we dont own anything..

just a short, but sweet post fault drabble. we had to do one. but we promise its the limit.

"I'm sorry." She whispered. He just glared at her.

She looked helplessly around her. The roof was surrounded by the illuminated skyline of Manhattan, but it seemed crushingly small, and consumed with their anger, their lust, their confusion and their fear.

She found courage in the darkness of the spring night, and changed her tone. "No, I'm not sorry Elliot." She said loudly. "You're the one who wanted this."

His jaw dropped. "What the hell made you think that?"

She flet herself throw her hands in the air. "You said so." Her voice was quieter now. "You said we'd have to change partners."

"If that ever happened again, Liv. I said if."

She laughed. A bitter, cynical laugh. "God, Elliot. Are you blind? We could play that scene two hundered and forty seven times, and I'd never take the shot."

His eyes widened.

Her eyes rolled. "You or the job Elliot, I'll always choose you."

"Don't say that."

"Why not? It's true." She said, with a little more volume. "At least I can admit it. You can't hide behind the badge forever, El."

They both fell silent, and their words washed over each other. A breeze blew softly between the buildings. It was awfully warm for early April. He wrung his hands together, too close to this revelation not to fear it.

She pushed her hair back from her face, as if it would help the clairty of her thought, the eloquence of her words.

Elliot looked at her. The space of roof between them was a chasm of unspoken thoughts feelings, unvoiced desire and need.

"That's the difference between us." She whispered. He could barely hear her. "It's something I figured out a long time ago, and something you still can't see. And it's the reason why we failed as partners, and why we'll fail right now."

The implication of those words ignited something inside him, something he thought was forver lost.

"You're blind to it." She whispered.

He took a step toward her. "To what?"

"You couldn't see it with Kathy." She said, barely audible. "So why should see it with me?"

Another step.

"You chose the job over Kathy. You chose the job over me." Her hands were shaking. "But the job is never gonna choose you. The job is never gonna love you back."

He looked into her eyes. Icy blue into velvety brown. His color remained locked on hers.

"And you?" he whispered.

"I think that's obvious, El. I chose you."

"That's not what I meant. I mean would you love me back?"

Her world of pride and security of seven years of flippant friendship, but never too close to betray her emotions shattered. She was once too proud to even admit it to herself, but she could feel them falling apart around her, and she didn't have the strenght for pride anymore.

"I already do."

He almost didn't believe her. But he saw the glint in her eyes, and the trail of moisture that moved down her cheek.

It felt like his heart started to beat again, after being still for a long time. Only he didn't know how to tell her that. So he closed the gap between them, and kissed her.

When they pulled apart, she stepped back and stared at him. He smiled.

She returned it tentatively. "What is this?" she asked.

"Feeling alive." He answered. Her smile broadened, and he took her hand.

There were a million questions to be answered, and a million things floating around that they wouldn't talk about tonight. They were surrounded by uncertainity and the overwhelming chance that all of this would crash.

No. Olivia shook her head and looked around. They were surrounded by something beautiful, something more beautiful than the twinkling skyline of the city. They were surrounded by anticiapation and potential, and maybe even love.

And the next time he kissed her, she traded herself to the moment.