A/N: Ha, I somehow managed to get this one out before life will get rather hectic for me starting tomorrow. And more good news - the next chapter is well underway as well.


Olivia wakes in the early morning hours when the sun crawls above the roofs of the city. She cracks her eyes open, eyelids fluttering before she allows them close again and settles against the warm body behind her. At this hour quiet still engulfs them, the city will only come to life in about an hour when the commuters head to the subways and Grand Central and business men and women take their cabs. It is never completely silent however and she thinks she misses that tranquility in the Tetley's backyard where there was nothing to hear except their own voices. The air had been clean and fresh and when they had walked through the forest she could smell moldy, moist forest ground. She could actually hear birds there accompanying their every step with their song and twigs cracked beneath her shoes. She could breathe there. Although it wasn't a big forest she had felt like she was embraced by broadleaf and conifers as far as she could see and it was so beautiful and so much more quiet than New York City could ever be at 4:55 in the morning. She thinks of the narrow path they have all walked two months ago and she misses how it had made her feel and tries to remember all that Tom has told her about their shenanigans they have done in the small woodlot as kids and how it had filled her with wonderment. What would she have done if she and her friends had had a forest to play in? All of these trees to climb upon and play hide and seek until dark?

Up until now she has never felt regret over having grown up in the city and raising her own child in the same environment, too. But ever since she has seen where Tom has grown into an adult and how exciting and free he must have been there is something within in her that yearns for… something. For more. For a place where there is so much quiet that she can actually hear herself think, a place where she can hear the birds sing and where the air isn't made from exhaust gases, stuffiness and piss.

She turns her face a little further into the softness of her pillow and makes a conscious effort of keeping her eyes closed and her wakefulness away for a little longer. Tom's chest heats her from the outside in where it is attached to her tank top clad back. Pushing herself a little further against him, Olivia allows herself to be engulfed by him and his body heat and as if on cue one arm snakes around her middle, pulling her impossibly closer against her as he exhales gruffly into her thick hair that has by now reached shoulder length since she had cut it off a year ago. Tom's hand flexes against her stomach, his fingertips digging into the familiarity of his girlfriend's soft skin where the tank has ridden up. She hums because not only does she feel safe, it also feels incredibly good in this warm cocoon. She never wants to leave the chrysalis his arms, his body provides. It is almost enough to lull her completely back to sleep. Almost. But there's also his lower half that now attaches to her behind, making her bite her bottom lip because feeling his semi-hard manhood against her but sends a jolt of arousal down her spine and it meets her right between her legs. Throat dry she swallows audibly. At least she can hear it loud and clear before she exhales with a heart that is beating a little too fast. A small sound is thrown in there for good measure and she wonders if Tom is still asleep or as aware as she herself.

She doesn't move and rests against him stiff like a board before she brings one hand to the one that is resting on her stomach. The second she covers the back of his hand his fingers spread and lace into her.

„Morning." The words are muttered in a whisper, his voice coming out filled with sleep. The awareness that he is at least somewhat awake covers Olivia's arms in goosebumps. And honestly, not just her arms. She revels in the silence of the room for a few seconds and doesn't allow the noises from outside to filter in. There is only his breath in her hair soft and even accompanied by her thumping heart.

„Hm." It's the smallest sound she gives in acknowledgement and when he exhales it tickles her neck because he's moving his face further down. Olivia doesn't quite trust her voice, thinking it would be too shaky and give her state of arousal away instantly. She breathes in slowly through her nose to keep herself grounded but when she exhales it's ragged.

„Time issit?" His lips rasp against against the column of her neck, making her shiver as his hand slips beneath her tank and pushes upward until his fingertip makes contact with the underside of her breast. His thumb skims over her costal arch and she tenses when she lets another breath escape through her lips. She is too aware of him and his every touch as she tries to remember how to answer him.


„Too damned early," he decides. Her lips quiver when his words hit her pulse point and the tension within her builds. She physically aches for him, is too aware of him, wants him. There is literally no space between the back of her and the front of his body and if she could, if she could at all, she'd get even closer. There is the barrier of clothes - too many clothes. His boxer briefs, her tank and panties, although screw the tank, really. That's not something she needs to get rid of. A few long moments pass and as if he can somehow read her mind his hand pushes up further and a breath gets stuck in Olivia's throat. She thinks he is going to palm her breast, instead he only teases, brushes her nipple with the outside of his thumb and simultaneously pushes his groin against her ass. She feels his response to her body instantly and he gives a groan as her nipple stiffens against his nail. She wonders if his eyes are still closed or if he watches her without hesitation because she knows he likes to look at her in these moments. Her entire body hums with contentment and need alike. And finally it's too much and she can't hold it in. She purrs and pushes back against him, wordlessly telling him she wants. She needs. More. Him.

It's like she's flipped a switch because his lips are on her then, caressing her shoulder with the whisper of a kiss, nothing rushed. It's never really rushed in the morning. It's sensual and soft and so, so quiet. Delicate. He cups her breast and exhales audibly as he grows completely hard against her behind and her head drops forward just a little as her hand comes up to cover his and pushes it against the plump flesh he's holding in his palm. The entire bottom half of her torso throbs with desire. It's funny that she still responds to him this way, that their sexual relationship hasn't cooled off now that they knew each other better because in the past it always has. The sex isn't always earth shattering but it's always good, never unwelcome.

A soft moan falls from her lips and he takes it as an invitation to let his hand wander. His knuckles skim down her side and when he reaches her hip back up, taking the thin cotton material of her top with it until her breasts are exposes and in the open. His mouth finds a pathway to her upper arm and when she lightly turns her head and gazes at him he sees his eyes are open but hooded with his own arousal. His cerulean eyes are trained on her tits and he's always been a breast man.

Encouraging him she moves against him, just barely but she moves, sways. Her hand comes to the waistband of her panties and lifting her hips a little she tugs the piece of underwear down.

„So eager," he groans and his hand is on her breast again with a firmer grip now but only for a few seconds, only so she knows what she is doing to him before his hands are soft, dancing across her skin and rubbing her nipple.

„Please," she breathes. It's almost inaudible. He might be all she ever needs she thinks, she believes. He breathes into her neck again and he's too much and it's too little so, she bites the inside of her cheek to contain herself. More morning light filters into her bedroom and a beam of light lays over her arm and face warming up her already heated skin. She trembles. Trembles from the way he's holding her, touching her, resting so firmly against her backside. Olivia has always been a cop first, has never fully let her guard down, but with him like this, in the early morning as the summer sun kisses them awake in late June, every last wall crumbles to the ground. He weakens her very last defenses, disarms her. For a moment the weight of the world is not resting on Olivia's shoulders. She's feels light, free. She is becoming that person that is so different from who she has been for her entire life, the person her mother, all of her past experiences and the job made her.

It's his warm chuckle that makes her close her eyes again and she falls into the sound of him completely. It's a low rumble, sweet and vibrating before there's a little snort through his nose that hits her square in her raging abdomen. That hand is on her thigh now, on the outside, rubbing gentle but big circles against her skin and she can't help but think that she needs his touch elsewhere because the bundled lust aches and burns between her legs. Her stomach plummets, her mouth runs dry. Those fingers tease as they drop to the front of her thigh and although her muscles scream she opens her legs up a little. When she breathes out it's staccato. Her entire leg shakes violently and she can't take it, can't keep it up even an inch for much longer.

It is not normal that he can do these things to her. That she hangs on his touch like this, a whiff of nothing under his touch. Everything about this feels so right and yet wrong because it's still nothing but stuffy heated air against her throbbing and moist sex. Actions are quicker then. He pushes down his briefs, just past his hips, and she can feel him completely hard against her buttcheek as his other hand combs her hair back. She arches her neck and feels him suckle on the back of her neck as he shifts, trying to find his way into her.

„Wait," she breathes and moves, pushing her behind further into him, arching her back to make it easier for Tom. His touch burns her and when he slips inside she gasps softly.



He rocks forward, burying himself into her slowly, a tad deeper with every soft motion of his hips.

„Let me…" Again she moves and shifts her lower half into the perfect angle where she feels more of him. „Like that…"

He adjust to her, exhales against her hair.

„That better?"

„Hm-hm." He drives himself a little deeper and she is impossibly warm and wet, silken walls encasing his length. He rocks on, continuously, gradually burying all of him inside her.

Olivia falls completely silent. He thinks she doesn't even breathe as he rests against her and holds still. Eventually she releases a laden breath when his hand finds her sex. He avoids the small bundle of nerves and strokes her labia, knowing she likes that and her response is imminent as she bucks against him. Perspiration builds beneath the comforter and between them, the heat is just right, however.

His hips are blissfully familiar as they meet hers and the pace is slow, like he is trying to rock her back to sleep. When she comes, long before him, it wipes her out. Her eyes remain closed and she dozes a little, barely aware of what's happening anymore. All she realizes is that she feels warm and fuzzy and so, so comfortable as he rest against her, rests inside her. The only thing keeping her from falling fast asleep are the mellow surges Tom creates with his hips every now and then.

He knows she is half-asleep like so often. He only moves a little to keep his erection at all, wants to stay inside of her, close to her. He finds peace within her, in her warm and soaked depths that encase him completely. The sheet beneath him is drenched with his sweat because underneath the covers there is too much heat. He wants to get out from under the comforter but knows if his movements are anything out of the ordinary it will break the spell of the moment.

Olivia makes a tiny moan of protest when he moves his hips backwards too much, when he almost slips out of her. A smile tugs on the corners of his lips. Even semi-asleep she wants to feel him as much as he wants to feel her. His own release isn't urgent. Of course he wants to fall over the edge and spill into her, but it can wait. In times like these it can always wait.

When he gets semi-soft and he is about to succumb to sleep she rocks him back away with swaying, full hips, teasing him back into consciousness, awakening his body - well, the lower half anyway. He cracks his eyes open for a moment and all he sees is dark hair. Hair that smells so good, he thinks he is going to lose his mind. He's alert when she pushes herself back against his hips so he's inside her to the hilt and inside her he stiffens to completion again.

He never tires of this. His hand searches for hers and their fingers interlace on her pillow, next to her face as he braces himself and rolls her over with his weight so she is almost completely on her stomach. From behind he is on top of her, one leg between hers. The strokes of his hips are still leisure but he has more room to move. Olivia bends one leg, brings it up and squeezes his hand when he hits the right spot.

It's around 5:30 AM and she knows she is going to crash over the edge for a second time.

She is slippery and the angle doesn't offer any friction at all. The pace is a little more needy, their breaths out of sync and close to ragged. Tom's pants are in her ear, his breath hot in her hair as her free hand attaches to the sweet spot, two fingertips starting to rub in small, fast circles. Whimpers fill the air as he shifts the both of them to a more comfortable angle. She turns her head, face in her pillow now as she groans with the release she feels is coming.

„Come for me." His voice is deep and breathless and faint as he buries himself within her to the hilt and stays like that, allowing her to rocks against him and her hand to get herself off until her entire body tenses under his weight and she crashes and collapses beneath him.

He strokes her hair and kisses her cheek when she turns her head. Her face is flushed and a little blotchy as she pants with the aftershocks. He rubs his thumb over the slope of her cheek, all the way down to her mouth, dragging her bottom lip with it before he takes the freedom to start moving again, a little quicker to get himself there. He can literally feel her body come down from her climax and her breathing returns to something close to normal. It's a few more minutes until he comes and spills his desire deep into her belly and there is something deeply satisfying for him about the act of coming inside of her, of being allowed to come inside her. There will never be a child growing in her womb but he implants his love within her every time, makes her his in this primal and natural way.

He turns them back around, onto their sides and they stay there in their silence. He remains inside of her until he goes soft and slips out of her. The loss of her inner sweet warmth hits him square in the chest each and every time. If he could live like this, buried inside her 24/7 - he would. He has never felt quite so complete as he does in these moments.

The sun has fully risen when Olivia awakes again, kissing her skin with a warm glow. Summer has definitely arrived. Drowsily she stretches out her arm and reaches for her phone on the nightstand, pushing her thumb down on the home button. 7:12. With any luck they still have thirty minutes, maybe an hour until Noah will be up, demanding their full attention. The quiet from earlier is now replaced by the usual New York City buzz that permeates walls and windows. Everything. She thinks there is no place in the city that offers total silence and again her heart yearns for things she has never really thought about before. Things she never knew she wanted.

The blanket hugs the curve of Olivia's hip. Her underwear is haphazardly wrapped around her knees. Tom is no longer wrapped around her body. She doesn't feel his warmth at all and she turns just enough to check if he is still next to her. He rests on his back, one arm beneath his head as he faces her and flashes her a small smile. His eyes are still glazed with sleep, telling her he hasn't been up for long.

„Hey there." Dimples light up his face and she never once regretted asking him to take off the beard. She melts whenever they appear. She falls for that smiling face hard each and every time.

„Hey." She rolls onto her back and rubs her palms over her face. Her left breast is uncovered and she quickly adjusts her top because it amuses the man next to her way too much. His chuckle and stare are telling. „Very funny."

„Isn't it?" The grin he shows is boyish and brazen. „Slept well?"

„With interruptions," she smirks. „Yeah, I slept okay." Surprisingly she did. The images from the basement haven't haunted her in her dreams. She has managed to leave Millie Schimmel's death behind for the time being.

„That's good then."

Humming her agreement Olivia moves in and settles against him, her body curling into his as her head comes to rest in her favorite spot on his chest. Outside a car honks.

„I can start breakfast." Breakfast sounds good. She is hungry after going to bed with an empty stomach, thinking she could really scarf the leftover lasagna down. All of it. But her desire to stay exactly like they are right now is bigger and wins out.

„Not yet. Don't wanna move." She puts no emphasis at all into her words. Truth is she is way too tired to move.

„You're startin' to get lazy," he teases and cackles as she hits his arm.

„You're a dick."

„Such a filthy mouth and so early in the morning, too." He shakes his head but his fingers rake through her tousled bed hair lovingly. „What do you wanna do today? Playground? Weather's supposed to be nice all weekend."

It seems they do the same thing every weekend. It's either one of the various playgrounds combined with a walk through Central Park or the Zoo. Not that she doesn't like it, she does, but it gets old. Tom has suggested a couple of outdoor activities but she thinks Noah's a little too young for things like geo caching, although Tom insists there are kid friendly apps out there made for a young audience. Again her heart aches a little. She wants peace and quiet and thinks of all the possibilities in that small town on Long Island where Tom has grown up where there is so much space for a child to run and explore, a place where they don't have to watch him like a hawk every second.

„Hm, maybe," she says indecisively bobbing her head left and right. „It's my weekend off. I figured if you'd be up to it we could drive out and visit your parents."

Looking down at her his eyes fill with skepticism. „Really?"

She gazes into his blue eyes and chuckles. „What? Why do you sound so surprised?"

„I don't know," he says slowly. „You wanna visit my parents that's… not what I've expected."

„You know I liked them."

„I do."

„So why is it so surprising?" Her brows knit together in confusion.

„No reason. I guess I just didn't see it coming." He doesn't want to say Olivia is anti-social because she isn't. But spending time with his people, be it friends or family, has never seemed to be far up on her list. He remembers the fight they had when he had asked her to join him and his friends for game night and it has taken quite a bit of convincing until she had agreed to meet his family for Easter and spend an entire day with them. He thinks if she could have had her way she would have liked to meet his parents in a neutral place like a restaurant for an hour or two, a setting that allowed for a quick getaway, just in case. In fact he had a feeling she would have rather put up with a root canal or head lice. However, this isn't an unpleasant turn of events. He hasn't seen his parents since Easter so, naturally he would love to go. „We can make it a day trip," he nods. „Fire up the grill, head back after dinner." He mulls it all over, thinking they might give his mother a heart attack on such short notice. Olivia's attendance alone will throw her into host mode. Alice hates to be unprepared.

„That sounds great." She stretches out her legs, feet peeking out from under the blanket. She remembers Tom's suggestion to stay there the next time they are visiting and she ponders the idea. She knows she wouldn't feel a hundred percent comfortable in a foreign home although she is sure they will have a bedroom and a bathroom for themselves. She is not the kind of person who likes the idea of causing somebody any inconvenience and then there's the whole issue of not being able to move around freely in the attire she wants. She'd be embarrassed to dart to the bathroom or kitchen in her pajamas and risk to run into Alice or Bill. However, it isn't entirely convenient to waste four hours of the day in the car, either and taking a hotel room for the night would be a hassle. For one they'd have to share the room with Noah, which isn't a problem. But they'd also have to be quiet by the time her son would go to sleep, so it's an options that is even less attractive than staying at the Tetley house. „We could stay. Only if it's okay with your parents, of course. I don't want your Mom to go through any trouble."

Tom's eyes widen and deep furrows fissure his forehead. „Who are you and what have you done to my girlfriend?"

After breakfast Tom has phoned his mother, asking if would be okay for him, Olivia and Noah to come and stay. As expected Alice instantly agreed and asked what they would want to eat, if there is anything Olivia and Noah don't eat and what they could do to make sure their son's girlfriend and her son would feel at home with them. After several attempts to assures his mother that nothing special was needed and they would like to barbecue he eventually hung up. Olivia put together an overnight bag for her and Noah, clothes, pajamas, toiletries. As much as she was looking forward to get out of the city, she felt nearly as nervous as the first time she met Tom's parents.

Noah is beyond excited because Tom has promised they would all play Kubb. he also remembers a large box full of Lego. The weather is supposed to hold and Alice has already promised to get the kiddie pool set up for the boy. Tom helps Noah to pack a backpack of toys and his favorite book for his bedtime story and they get on their way shortly after ten.

The radio is playing an upbeat Taylor Swift song that has Noah bouncing in his car seat as he sings along play, play, play I'm just gonna sha-sha-sha-sha shaky off, shaky off. The two adults look at each other how shake it off becomes shaky off and grin at each other. The kid is too adorable.

„That's the first gem I'm going to teach him on the guitar," Tom teases.

„Taylor Swift?"

„He seems to like her."

„Well, I guess she's pretty," Olivia chuckles. She doesn't know the first thing about the pop singer, except that drama seems to surround her.

Break break break and-a faker gonna fake fake fake fake fake, I'm just gonna sha-sha-sha-sha-sha, shaky off, shaky off.

Olivia snorts. It's too funny to her and she regrets that she hasn't hit record on her phone because the song ends. The radio host mentions something about Swift and a new single before the next song comes on and Tom instantly turns the volume up. The melody sounds familiar but it's not until Mr. Big's words resonate in the car that the penny drops.

Hold on little girl

Show me what he's done to you

Stand up little girl

A broken heart can't be that bad

„You like that song?"

„Who doesn't?" As if to make a point he looks as her as they drive onto I-495 and starts to sing along full-throated.

So come on baby, come on over, let me be the one to show you"

He closes his hand to a fist and exaggerates with his gestures as if he is some member of a boyband, trying to make his female fans faint.

I'm the one who wants to be with you, deep inside I hope you feel it, too." His eyes scrunch up and Olivia throws her head back and laughs like a little kid. It is one of the many things she loves about him. Tom is not above embarrassing himself or letting his goofy side hang out just as long as it makes her laugh. The thing is, the man can sing. He plays the guitar like a god and has a beautiful singing voice although he has never really let her hear him sing. The few times she has noticed were when he was plucking on Noah's Baby Taylor, humming along and singing a line or two every now and then, and only quietly. Noah joins in on his mother's laughter and she thinks he isn't even sure what's so funny.

Laughing himself Tom glances over to her again. „That's the spirit."

„Can you give a rendition of Taylor Swift, too?" Her lips crack with an inquisitive smile.

„You bet I can. Just wait until I get my old man's guitar when we're sitting by the fire tonight, I'mma swift it up." He tries to think of any other songs and comes up with nothing at the top of his head although he'd probably recognize every song of hers that's been on the billboard top 100 after a few beats.

„Do you do that? Campfire songs?"

„Sometimes, yeah. My Mom likes it. But most of the time we just talk or turn on the radio, or put on a playlist, something like that." He has always love to sit around the fire bowl, no matter if it's with friends or his family. There is something serene and cosy about it. To Tom it's the epitome of Hygge.

„Is Rebecca going to be there, too?"

„I texted her. Walt has Abby for the weekend so I think she'll be over and probably have one too many. If she's being a pain just tell her, she appreciates honesty."

„Oh please, I can't tell your sister to shut up."

„Of course you can, we all do." She's taking the separation from her daughter particularly hard and her hatred for Walt is still at full blast. Apparently he has started dating other women, which Rebecca claims translates to fucking them. She is bitter because she has heard it through the grapevine when this kind of news should come from him. They are still technically married after all. He figures by the time it will only be adults tonight she is going to have one too many.

„I'm not gonna blow it with your sister," she shakes her head. „No way."