science vs. romance
Um, so, I'm at work right now...posting this because this kept me up until 3am to write, with no energy left to post it.
Takes place after the last aired episode, so spoilers for all. Rated R. You were warned ;)
"Tell me something," Olivia remarks suddenly, the most talkative she’s been around her husband in months. He pauses, Charlie cradled in his arms as he scoops her out of her car seat. She’s been having nightmares again and she only wants Mark. Tonight’s the first night out of many that he’s been available to take her. Olivia’s trying not to keep score.
"Yeah?" he asks. She tries to not wince as his shabby apartment. It’s not permanent. He’s still counting on coming home, on her bending and giving in.
She squeezes her eyes shut tightly then opens them once more. Their entire world’s different and crumbling and Mark doesn’t even seem to notice. She’s a fool for thinking he would, she supposes.
"If you had to pick between the flash forward’s coming true and…" she pauses, unable to finish her sentence.
Mark sighs, walking up to his door. Charlie looks peaceful now, sound asleep. It’s almost enough, seeing her daughter content, to wish things were different.
Almost.
"Don’t do this," he insists, shooting her a silencing look. He’s all business and protocol these days and she’s not sure why she keeps getting surprised. She should be anticipating his actions by now. She’s watched this happen too many times before.
Olivia nods, understanding. "You want them to come true," she determines.
He shakes his head. "It’s not that simple. You think I want Demitri to die? We changed that."
For now, she thinks. She’s not so convinced they can’t stop any of it. Delay it sure, but change it?
"Right," she replies, waiting for him to add to his first statement. He doesn’t. She should know that he wouldn’t.
"It’s late," he insists, eyeing the door slowly. He hesitates, looking back at her strangely. She understands that they can’t even recognize each other any more. "Unless you want to come in," he suggests quietly, hopefully, almost.
She laughs. She can’t help herself. It’s funny, hearing those words from her husband’s mouth, like a cheap proposition. This shouldn’t be weird, but it is.
"You should really look over the papers," she urges him. "If you want the house…"
This time they’re on the same page. If he takes the house, she won’t be in that room with Lloyd on April 30th. It doesn’t mean she won’t be elsewhere with him, but Mark need never know then.
Mark shakes his head. "I want you to have it."
He seals the deal. He’s all but counting on her flash forward coming true.
She holds her breath. He’ll be sure to call her out on this one.
There are still some things about him she can predict.
"Goodnight," she calls quietly.
He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t ask her where she’s going, though they both assume it’s not home.
Olivia clings tightly to habits and routines, old friends that helped her survive for so many years, buried deeply inside of her shell. Instincts were Mark’s territory. He’d always acted on gut and intuition.
Now that she’s doing the same, she couldn’t be more terrified. This is about more than a decaying marriage and a questionable affair with an even more questionable man. This is her changing and reprioritizing and not thinking with the science and precision she’d clung so tightly to. This is her acting on emotion and throwing reason and logic out the window.
A few months ago, there’d been a problem: she’d seen herself in bed with another man. In her mind there’d been an easy solution: avoid said man, fight for her marriage, and put literal distance between her family and LA. Months ago this all seemed plausible, infallible even.
Since then, she’d done none of these above. It’d be easy to peg this all on Mark. He didn’t want to run away with her (though he’d recommended Demitri run away from his future - but there’d be time for hypocrisy discussions later) and he was at work, never at home. She’d understood to a point. She’d always been a career woman and she works four twelve hour shifts at the hospital a week. She understands Mark’s responsibilities. What she can’t wrap her head around are his priorities. He knowingly separated himself from her and now he wants to blame her for letting him. Then again, she didn’t put up much of a fight.
Maybe she really didn’t want to.
All water and bridges by now, because she’s somewhere far away from him and there’s no amount of running that could ever close in the distance between them. They’d each made a choice, she knows, and for the first time in their lives, they’d traded places. He’d acted on reason and logic, with his whole save-the-world complex and she’d allowed herself to cave into emotions and desire.
No, for the first time the facts are not all on Olivia Benford’s side. And for the first time, she’s beginning to realize the facts are only half of the story.
It’s cliché, the bar he meets her in. Dim lights and littered with customers in plaid and fraying tee shirts, all but reeking of the word "regulars". She’s sure she’s never been here before. She wonders idly if Mark has.
She orders a beer, not much for drinking aside from the occasional glass of red wine or champagne at parties. Beer reminds her of college, which she associates with UCLA and days in the sun spent wondering what life would be like in Boston. She drank a lot back then. She wonders vaguely if there’s a connection.
Lloyd orders a scotch on the rocks, which almost makes her laugh, because it’s a drink only ordered in movies, not real life. Not unless you’re old, which Lloyd most certainly isn’t. Of course, they’re not exactly kids either, which reminds her that they can’t make the same foolish mistakes they might have when they were younger. They’re dealing with families and children. This will never be about just them.
He talks about Dillon mostly, and she find this adorable, listening to him babble on and on about his son. She forgets that he’s new at this, that fatherhood is new to him. He seems like such a natural.
"At least he’s with people who understand," she concludes when he talks about Dillon’s new school specially designed for autistic children.
He smiles. "He misses Charlie though. I didn’t realize how close they were. It’s strange, really."
She sips her beer, finger running down the length of the bottle’s neck. He means ironic.
"He made a new friend. Kelly. He wants her to meet Charlie."
Olivia grins. "I’m sure Charlie would like that," she insists. "She’s been asking about Dillon. We’ll just have to make sure they continue to see each other."
Lloyd’s eyes meet hers. It’s silly, the way they’re speaking. They’re hiding behind their children and never saying anything directly. They have to be careful.
"Of course," Lloyd agrees, smiling slowly.
Olivia brushes her hair behind her ear, her hand a decoy to hiding her blushing. "Is that where Dillon is?" Olivia asks, looking into her bottle. "At his friend’s house?"
Lloyd turns to her knowingly. "It’s important for him to make friends." He pauses. "I didn’t want to say no."
Olivia nods. "No, it is important." She wonders why they’re still talking about their kids when neither one is thinking about them. "Very important."
Lloyd chuckles softly. "Did you tell him?"
"Tell who?" she asks, delaying the subject.
"Mark," Lloyd says quietly.
"About Gabriel?" she questions. He nods and she shakes her head fiercely. "No. He’d probably find some way to make it all about the investigation."
Lloyd wraps his hand around his rocks glass and looks away from her. "It could be important," he offers.
"Oh, I’m sure it is," she remarks sarcastically. She’s growing bitter again and she catches herself, stopping quickly. "I’m not upset, you know," she tells him quickly. It seems like one of the most important things she can tell him.
"About what?" he asks quietly.
She pushes her empty beer to the edge of the bar. Without asking the bartender brings her another. She doesn’t protest. "Everything," she replies simply. "This. Us." She says us like a forbidden word, because she knows neither is ready to define whatever it is that they’re doing. "I’m not sorry for the way everything worked out. A few months ago? Maybe. But now?" She shrugs.
Lloyd smiles into the bottom of his glass. "I’m not sorry either," he insists, glass clanking down with a slight thud. "I should be. Maybe a better man would be, but I’m not."
They’re interrupted by the bartender pouring Lloyd a second drink. Olivia leans forward, beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol taking hold. Her face grows warm and flushed and she finds herself nervous for the first time since her MCAT exams. This isn’t a date, but it’s staring to feel like one. The last time she’d gone on a date with someone who wasn’t Mark, she’d been a teenager. She’s not sure she knows how to do this anymore.
She steals a glance at Lloyd. She’s at a bar with a man she could fall in love with. She’s at a bar with a man who is definitely not her husband. Her fingers are wrapping around the glass that belongs to a man who her husband hates.
She keeps thinking her husband in terms of permanence, when the truth is, once he signs the papers, everything will be over.
Her fingers bring Lloyd’s glass to her lips as his fingers run over the back of her free hand, her left hand, the hand where a golden wedding band and engagement ring are missing. He doesn’t say a word about it, but she knows he’s noticed.
"I have off tomorrow," she offers suddenly, then wishes immediately she could take the words back. She’s coming off all wrong and she’s too anxious to just relax. Nothing she’s saying sounds right.
Lloyd laughs, smiling kindly at her. "Olivia Benford, are you trying to seduce me?" he jokes, as she nearly chokes on his scotch.
She hands the glass back to him, laughing easily now. "Rather badly, I might add," she jokes back, rolling her eyes lightly.
"Well whatever it is you’re doing," he begins only half-teasing, "I’m pretty sure it’s working."
"Oh," she remarks shyly, laughing at her own embarrassment. She turns to the bartender sharply. "I think we’re gonna need another round," she grins.
There’s some debate about where she’s staying. He offers to take her home, but she declines. He insists, but she knows he lives right down the street and besides, neither one of them should be driving.
Still, he’s in much better shape than she is.
"You’re not staying on the couch," he insists.
She raises an eyebrow coyly. "I’m not sleeping with you," she tells him firmly.
He laughs as he pulls into the driveway. "Never crossed my mind," he tells her, smirking as he steps out of the car.
She freezes momentarily when he opens the car door for her, but recovers quickly. "Chivalry will get you nowhere," she remarks, grinning wildly.
"Oh won’t it?" he teases, helping her out of the car.
"It won’t," she insists.
Lloyd rolls his eyes. "I wouldn’t dream of it anyway. You’re entirely too drunk."
"Me?" she remarks in shock. "You’re not exactly sober yourself."
He smiles, letting her inside. "But I could never let myself take advantage of you," he remarks.
"Who says you’d be taking advantage?" Olivia questions.
He laughs.
She blushes as she leans against the door, closing it behind her. "You wouldn’t be," she informs him. "Just for the record."
"Right," he nods. "But as you so brilliantly pointed out, you’re not sleeping with me."
Olivia pauses, remembering. "Of course not," she adds slowly, following him to the bedroom. "That would be crazy."
"Mad," Lloyd offers.
"Insane," she adds. She pauses as he opens the bedroom door for her. "But I can do this," she whispers softly, leaning towards him, fingertips grasping his tee shirt tightly as she pulls in.
He’s ready when her lips find his, hands all over her within seconds, fingers on her hips, her back, and running up the length of her shoulder blades. She grows dizzy with excitement as she deepens the kiss, pressing up onto her toes to reach him.
There should be a sense of dread or hesitation at the very least, but she’s either ignoring this or not feeling it at all. She whispers his name into his skin as he presses her onto the bed, his mouth on her neck, then her collarbone, fingers trailing down her breasts to her stomach.
She wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him closer to her. She works on the buttons of his shirt as he slides off her skirt then moves on to her blouse. His fingers unclasp her bra expertly and she slides her fingers under the waistband of his jeans, pushing them off his body with ease.
She moans as he kisses the inside of her thigh, her hand tangled in his hair as he breaks skin. He looks up at her curiously, making sure this is okay. In response, she pulls him back up to her mouth, needing his lips on hers.
"You’re sure?" he half-whispers.
Her tongue glides along his lower lip and plunges into his mouth.
He doesn’t ask any more questions.
He eases one finger under her panties before peeling them off, his fingers thrusting deeper inside of her, her breathing growing heavier and more ragged. This is all strange and new to her and she doesn’t know the rules of this game. Her hips arch as his fingers twist circles inside of her and she gasps loudly, letting out a sound somewhere between a scream and a sigh.
She whimpers his name as she comes, eyes squeezed tight as her nails pierce his skin.
His lips are on hers as she recovers, trembling slightly as she intertwines her fingers with his.
Lloyd’s lips burn trails down her skin stopping slightly above her navel. She squeezes his hands tightly, unable to slow her breathing, and she buries her teeth in her lip to keep from gasping.
"Olivia," he breathes, eyes locked onto hers as he slides over her body. She digs her fingers into the soft flesh of his back as he thrusts into her.
She moans loudly as he slips deeper inside of her, legs wrapping around his torso as her hips move to his rhythm. She holds tightly to him, gasping as he shifts inside of her. She can’t imagine ever letting go.
She collapses onto him as they come, her cheek flush against his chest. She hooks her leg over his hips as he pulls the sheets over their bodies, his lips kissing her forehead softly.
"I thought you were sleeping on the couch," she whispers, raising her jaw to kiss him once more.
He runs his thumb over her lips. "I can leave," he teases.
She smiles quickly. "Don’t you dare," she whispers.
She picks Charlie up from school at three o’clock the next day. It’s bright out, even through the dim lenses of her sunglasses.
"You look funny," her daughter comments, crinkling her nose slightly. She stands back, staring at her mom for a moment.
"What do you mean?" Olivia remarks, frowning.
Charlie shrugs. "You look happy."
Olivia blinks back her surprise. "Happy?" she repeats.
Charlie rolls her eyes. "Yeah, happy," she states again as she races to the car.
"Is that, weird?" Olivia calls after her, hurrying to the car.
Charlie shrugs again. "I don’t know."
She sends the papers to her lawyer the next afternoon. She wonders what to do with the ring. She doesn’t want to keep it, but giving it back seems tacky. She opts to pack it up in her closet. Perhaps Charlie might want it someday.
There’s a message from Mark on her phone. She can barely distinguish his voice through the background noise. She can almost smell the whiskey and stale smoke on his clothes, all old ghosts that she needs to learn to say goodbye to. She’s never been particularly good with goodbyes.
Dillon comes over after school, grinning at Olivia as he races upstairs to Charlie’s room.
"Hi Olivia!" he yells as he darts past her.
"Dillon, that’s rude!" Lloyd calls after him desperately, looking tired and frustrated. "We’ve talked about this...we’ve...."
Olivia laughs. She can’t help but notice the stubble on his face. She likes him best this way; too distracted to fully take care of himself. She finds this trait oddly endearing.
"I’m sorry. We’ve talked about this," he repeats, dejectedly, motioning to the spot where Dillon disappeared.
"Oh, I’m sure you have," she remarks, biting her lip to keep a straight face.
"Oh you find this funny?" he questions, grinning.
She smirks. "No," she lies, stepping closer to him.
Lloyd wraps his arms around her and kisses her slowly."Hi," he says softly.
She’s no longer analyzing their situation. Instead she merely smiles and kisses him back.
"Hi," she laughs.
fin