This wasn't their typical undercover operation. When she learned they'd be "coupling" (as much as one can "couple" when one is supposed to be a "prostitute") at a club called Grind, she knew immediately that it was going to be different; she was excited and terrified at the same time.

"So how're we gonna work this?" She asked him.

"I think we just… see where it goes, I guess," he didn't even look up.

The club was thick with sweat, heat, and the only light came from small red lamps in the corners. There were silhouettes of moaning, screaming and breathing bodies everywhere; sliding against one another, screaming ecstatically… it was almost rhythmic with the heavy bass coming from the speakers.

She spotted Elliot at the bar, wearing just-tight-enough jeans and a black shirt that hugged him in all the right places. She, 'Dixie', was wearing black skinny-leg jeans, stilettos, and a backless red top that was cut low enough at the front to show just enough cleavage. Time to switch on.

She strutted over to the bar, turning heads, stopping people in the act, and took a stool a few seats down from Elliot and their suspects. Moments later, the bartender placed a martini in front of her, "From the gentlemen in the black shirt," he said. Olivia looked over at Elliot, he winked at her, she winked back, the other men hooted and whistled wildly. She picked up the martini and walked over to them.

"Hey baby," a rather fat man said, moving closer towards her, "Fuck I'd like to try you on for size."

"Sorry guys," Elliot said, moving in front of him, "This one's mine," he took the martini out of her hand, placed it on the bar, wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him, hard.

"Thanks for the drink," Olivia said in his ear, trying to ignore a tingling in her pants, "So, what can I do for you beautiful?" She said louder, in her most flirtatious voice she could summon.

"How about a dance?" Elliot said as the rest of the men made various moaning sounds and humped each other.

"Sure thing babe," she winked, took him by the hand and led him to the dance floor.

There were at least sixty people packed onto the dance floor, and amidst the moaning and music, they had to stand right up against each other just to hear each other talk. Her hands were on his shoulders, his hands on her waist; they were awkward, there was distance between them.

"How's it goin'?" Olivia said in his ear.

"I don't think Malronie's our guy."

The music picked up, and so did the bodies around them; they were moving faster and somehow things got closer, tighter. Somebody bumped into Olivia and she fell into Elliot. Whether it was the music, the thousand sweaty bodies around them, they didn't know, but he moved his hands to her hips and her hands snaked around his neck, their bodies were pressed up against each other, moving from side to side with the heavy electronic dance beat, the singer hit the lyric low low low low and they instinctively moved with the crowd. One of Elliot's thighs was between Olivia's legs, and she held onto the back of his neck, her eyes low as their bodies dipped to the dance floor. He couldn't keep his eyes off of her collarbones, the way her body curved around him, the way she was practically straddling his thigh. When they rose up, their bodies closed any gap that might have existed between them, grinding up against one another. Their cheeks were pressed together; he could feel her rapid breathing against his neck; there was something warm and hard pressing into her thigh. Olivia pulled back from him, but only so far that they could look each other in the eye. She searched his eyes with surprise for a few moments, his eyes were intense, and there was something serious in them; she threw caution to the wind, and rocked her hips into his. "Liv-," he gasped in her ear, he moved his hands to her thighs, moving them up and down her body in time with the music as they moved against each other.

She cupped his cheek and searched his eyes as their lower halves pulsated together in perfect motion, their faces barely millimeters apart, her eyes darted to his lips and back to his eyes, her breathing intensified as did her arousal, he pulled her harder against him, his cock throbbing with anticipation against her. Their upper lips touched, their breathing too heavy, too breathless to connect.

A scream from the entrance to the club broke them apart – nobody else seemed to have noticed. "Shit, it's Taylor," Elliot said, drawing his weapon and heading for the door, Olivia close in tail.