Olivia stepped into her entryway, returning from a long day out in the field, and dropped her bag and jacket by the door next to a familiar looking pair of shoes. Tonight, Lincoln had relieved her mom of Henry-sitting duty while Olivia finished up her case. Now, she saw as she peeked into the room both her boys were asleep in the semi-darkness on her couch. Her lamp was casting sharp shadows against his lovely cheekbones, and her son looked so peaceful lying on Lincoln's chest, and she was unexpectedly reminded of the night she gave birth and exactly how it how sounded when he'd told her he loved her.

During their last big mission, to her eternal dismay, she'd become aware of Lincoln's voice. Aware, in the sense that although she'd heard it a million times saying a million different things, she was now much too aware of how attractive it was. She'd always had a thing for voices; it was usually the first thing that drew her to a man. That day, as she was giggling while Lincoln referred to an old joke concerning jelly sandwiches and Charlie's penchant for frightening schoolchildren, she really heard it, as if for the first time. His voice, soft but somehow strong, had a smoky sort of flavor that she had never paid attention to. That had been two weeks ago, and ever since, Olivia had been hard pressed not to swoon at his every word. It was utterly ridiculous that a man's voice whom she'd heard daily for the past three years was now swelteringly seductive, that her name from his lips was now the most provocative thing she had ever heard.

She had never felt that way about Frank's voice.

Her interactions with Lincoln had therefore inevitably become charged with a potency that she hadn't felt before that fateful night in china town. She was seeing a lot more of him, too. Frank's departure at her unsolicited pregnancy had infuriated Lincoln, who apparently decided to take up the responsibilities of fatherhood in Frank's place. Which was kinda a problem for her, as Lincoln's husky voice whispering sweet nothings to her child was just plain drop dead sexy.

Realizing she'd been staring for who knows how long, Olivia glanced down at her watch. 12:30 am. Lincoln had been over for nearly four hours, and he looked exhausted. She stepped quietly over to his sleeping form and carefully lifted little Henry off his chest, but as she did so, Lincoln's hand came up and grabbed her wrist.

"Liv." That voice again.

Olivia tried to gently shake him off.

"Shhh. I'm going to take Henry to his room. You can go back to sleep," she told him.

But Lincoln was never one to be still while things were going on, so up he got, following her to Henry's room and watching bleary-eyed from the doorway as she tucked her baby into bed. It was strange, but it felt completely natural with Lincoln in her life this way, watching over her, his blue eyes smiling as he experienced first-hand her first steps in motherhood. As she caressed Henry's head affectionately, she heard in the darkness:

"Liv. I love you."

Olivia walked back to the door where he was leaning tiredly against the frame and grabbing his hand, pulled him back to the couch.

"I know," she answered, "Lincoln, I––"

But he cut her off.

"Liv, you don't have to say anything. But since you already know, I'm just going to keep telling you," he said with his typical cheeky, if a bit sleepy, grin.

"No, I know that. That's not it." Olivia found herself having a hard time keeping his gaze. "I need to tell you though, that, well––just don't give up on me. I know things are weird right now, what with Frank leaving and me going off and not telling you and then sort of falling for Peter, even though I had no right, and everything is just so mixed up, I just––" She took a large breath as Lincoln put his hand to her cheek and looked at her with concern.

"Let me finish. I can't say I love you right now, but I think I'll be able to sometime. I've always had a thing for you, you know that. It took me way too long to remember I had a boyfriend that time you cornered me outside the office..." she blushed at the memory, "I like you Linc. A lot. You're perfect. I've often thought that if I was going to cheat on Frank with anyone, it would be you."

Lincoln laughed at that.

"I've told you I love you, right?" he said again in his ridiculously seductive tones. The fact that he clearly wasn't trying to be sensual just compounded the effect.

Olivia ducked her head, but he wasn't having any of that, pulling her face back towards him.

"Hey, Liv."

"Hmm?" she answered, unable to find words in such close proximity and under such circumstance. Her pulse was beating unruly as he edged closer.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked, teasing but hopeful.

She struggled to control her breathing.

"I don't know Linc. Don't you think it'll make things more complicated?"

But she didn't pull away.

"What's complicated? It's just a kiss."

His arms wrapped themselves around her waist and unwilling to pull away, Olivia found her arms sliding around him as well. His lips hovered over hers and he continued. Her heart pounded erratically.

"One kiss? Please?"

And his voice was so husky, she couldn't help herself. She kissed him––or did he kiss her? Whichever it was, their lips met fervently. Her hands traced his spine up his back, up his neck, and into his messy blonde hair, and his slipped under her shirt as he gripped her waist. The kiss was getting long, she was getting breathless, but was reluctant to break the kiss, soaking in his warmth. Air became too necessary, and Lincoln broke the kiss, only to bump noses with her as he re-angled his face for another. And another. Without either of them really realizing it, they slowly tipped over on the couch until she found herself on her back with Lincoln pressed against her. Her legs reached around him, and the soft fabric of their shirts began to feel like a barrier. Garnering what willpower she had left, Olivia pulled her mouth away before things got any hotter and turned her head. Lincoln's lips immediately found their way to her neck.

"I think you may have gone over your one kiss limit," she reminded him.

Lincoln let out a bark of a laugh, but carefully pulled them both upright, with her somehow ending up on his lap, and he began to run his fingers through her red locks.

Olivia thought about her bed, in her own empty room. It seemed bleak and cold compared to this. She didn't really want to go, she knew she was going to have a hard time getting to sleep after this, but two people on a couch was ridiculous. She slowly got up from his embrace, but pulled him along with her.

"I'm going to bed. You can come, but we're going to sleep. Okay?"

"Yes, ma'am."