The next scene has a sexual situation. Nothing graphic.
Four stacks of files lay on the desk in front of Peter, along with his laptop. Jazz from WGBH played faintly in the background. Peter rubbed his eyes, stretched, and pulled another folder from the tallest stack.
At least he wrote everything down, even if most of it doesn’t make sense.
Olivia stood in the doorway, watching Peter as he skimmed the contents of the folder. How many nights had she done this with case files, going over the details dozens of times, looking for any clue that would bring her another step closer to resolution? And how many times had Peter coaxed her away?
She walked behind him, then leaned on his shoulder and set a small tumbler of whisky by his left hand. She rested her hands on his shoulders and began to massage the knots from his neck and back.
“Thanks, Liv. Ahh, that feels good,” he mumbled, never looking up from the file in front of him.
“How’s it going?” She asked softly, still rubbing his shoulders. “Anything I can do to help?”
“Find Walter…” he sighed. He took one of Olivia’s hands in his, and leaned back, resting his head against the back of the chair.
“Come to bed, Peter… You’ve been at this for hours.” She kissed the top of his head. “I miss you.”
“Is this how you felt all those times I tried to get you to take a break?” His voice was serious, but he was smirking. “Isn’t this the part where you kiss me and promise me mind-blowing sex if I’ll just come to bed?”
“Did that work?”
“Most of the time.”
“Then yeah, this is that part.” She leaned over and brushed her lips against his stubbly cheek. “If you shave before you come to bed… and if you can stay awake.”
“How can I refuse?” He chuckled and shut down the laptop. “But shaving, huh?” He wrapped his arm around Olivia as they walked out of the room.
“Well, it’s not a requirement… but it severely limits your options if you don’t,” she teased.