Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.
It's not a day that ever held any validity; it was never something of importance. It was simply another day, with more red and pink, and people seemed to be high on sugar and sappiness. She could always ignore most of it, or pretend to, but this year, someone was making it near impossible to ignore it all.
"Stop that." She eyed the man across the desk, the man who'd just thrown heart-shaped confetti at her.
He smirked and scooped some more of the glittery sparkles into his hand from the surface of his desk, and with a mischievous chuckle, he tossed it in her direction. "Lighten up."
She rolled her eyes as she shook the pink and red foil out of her hair. "You're a child," she snapped.
"What's with you, huh?" he asked, a more serious tone in his voice. He leaned a bit closer to her, as much as he could without having to get out of his seat. "You've been in a fucking rotten mood since you woke up, and today, of all days, I need to know why." He bit his lip. He needed her to be happy today.
She sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose, as if trying to keep herself from snapping at him. She took another breath. "Did it ever occur to you, for a single second, that maybe I don't want to be here, right now?" She opened her eyes and looked at him. "We've been here, in this cramped, stuffy squad room, for almost thirty-six hours. Cragen let us go home to get clothes and shower, but other than that..." she paused and exhaled. "Those beds in that bunk room are lumpy, and uncomfortable, and I kind of got used to sleeping with..." She stopped, cleared her throat, and said, "There's just somewhere else...something else I would much rather be doing today."
"Me, too," he told her. "Why do you think I'm trying my damndest to be happier than normal? Why I've been trying like hell to get you to crack a smile today?" He lowered his voice. "I'm trying to make the most of..."
"Hey!" Munch called from across the room, hanging up his phone. "Fin nailed the bastard. I'm staying to help him out, but the rest of you...you can all go home."
Elliot looked at Olivia, who was returning his gaze as if she knew exactly what he was thinking. Simultaneously, they rose from their seats; he smiled at her as she put her jacket on and said, "So, uh, where was it, exactly, you wanted to be?"
She narrowed her eyes as she smirked back at him. "Anywhere but here," she said, and she took a few steps closer to him before whispering, "As long as it's with you."
His gaze softened and he sighed, and then he looped one arm around her waist, grabbing his coat and ushering her out of the room. In silence, they walked toward the elevator, and the closer they got to it, the more his heart raced. He cleared his throat and took her hand, leading her through the metal doors as they opened.
She raised an eyebrow and stared suspiciously at him for a moment before turning her gaze toward their linked fingers. In all their years together, even before it was morally acceptable, he'd never held her hand so openly. She took a breath, exhaled, and gave his hand a squeeze, something deep inside of her cracking a bit while other more important bits of her put themselves back together.
He moved fast, kissing her temple. He moaned softly into her eat and whispered, "I love you."
She turned her head and just as the ding of the elevator hit her ears, she noticed his shift in mood. "Are you okay?"
"God, I hope so," he heaved, pulling her out of the elevator and into the lobby of the Sixteenth Precinct. He ran with her through the front doors, into the parking lot, and practically threw her into the passenger seat. He slammed her door before she could yell at him and checked his watch. "Shit," he hissed, licking his lips.
Once he was settled in the driver's seat, she gave him a narrow expression. "You almost pulled my arm out of the socket! Five minutes ago, we were sure we'd have to spend another night at work, so what's the rush all of..."
"I made plans," he interrupted, starting the car. "A while ago. I was sure we'd have to cancel, but I never...I just kind of hoped we'd be able to keep them, and now I'm praying we can make it there in time."
"Plans?" She raised one eyebrow inquisitively and shook her head. "What plans? Were you going to tell me about this?"
He laughed. "Nope," he said, grinning. He drove out onto the road and sped up a bit, his eyes flicking back and forth between the dashboard clock and the road in front of him. "It's a surprise."
She saw the glimmer in his eyes and smiled, her mind drifting back to when the shift in their relationship rocked her world. It was years ago. It was a cold night, after a long and emotional day. She'd left work without her gun, without her badge, not sure if she'd ever get them back after what had happened.
She'd heard him knock on her door, she'd heard her phone ring several times, but she'd wanted to shut out the world. The knocking had stopped, and then the ringing had stopped. She'd thought he'd given up, but as soon as she'd really let herself cry, he'd come back and used his key. "Liv," he'd whispered. And she was in his arms seconds after, and then he was in her bed, in her.
She blinked away the memory that now seemed so long ago, snapping back to the present, and she studied his face again. He was thicker, stronger, and God knows he was happier now, more so than he'd ever been. She smiled. So was she.
"You're quiet," he told her, slapping the blinker on and turning down a street.
"Just...thinking." She smiled again, and her memories flashed like Polaroids. She licked her lips as she remembered their first moments of exploration, the first time she held his cock in her hand and the first time she took him into her mouth, the first time he returned both favors and then told her she was his new favorite flavor. She grinned smugly as she recalled the nights they pushed limits, crossed lines, lived out each other's fantasies, ones no one else knew existed. Trust. Faith. Loyalty. Love. He was the only man...only person that ever held every ounce of everything she had to give. "About us." She finally added, clearing her throat.
"Good things, I hope," he said, suddenly turning a bit pale. His hands were slipping off of the steering wheel, they were sweating and clammy now.
It didn't go unnoticed by her. "Of course," she said softly, "But what's going on with you. I've never seen you like this."
"Like what?" He said it too fast, too high in pitch. He pulled the car into a parking space and turned the key.
"Nervous," she said. She looked around, then, and her eyes widened. "Elliot?"
He took a deep breath and unbuckled his seat belt. Without a sound, he got out of the car, walked around it, and opened her door for her. "You remember?"
She nodded, taking the slippery hand he'd held out to her. She closed the door as he led her down a hill and toward a gazebo, the lights beginning to glow in the dimming sunlight.
"Right on time," he said, grinning like a fool at the sunset glowing in pinks and purples over the river. He pulled her hand a bit, needing her to move faster.
She gasped, the spread of fruit and chocolate and chilled champagne coming into view as she stepped up onto the raised platform. "When did you do all of this?"
He smiled at her. "I told you," he shrugged. "I had plans." He leaned closer to her and brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. "And I know the cops on this beat. They did me a few favors."
She looked around again, stunned, and then beamed up at him. "Why?"
"Right here," he said, looking from her to the glittering river, and then back again. "We met...right here...and I know it was more, uh, grim and bloody but I still..."
"Our first case," she said, interrupting him. "I was supposed to meet you at the station, but you got called out here so Cragen told me to..."
"Yeah," he said, almost breathless. "We don't have to hide this anymore, you know that, don't you?" He saw her flinch a bit. "I saw the way you looked at me when I grabbed your hand in the elevator, and I felt you almost pull away from me, but..." he paused and looked into her eyes. "It doesn't matter, now. It never really did. This was never...wrong...you and me. It's always been...so fucking right, Liv."
She wasn't aware that tears were falling, and she sniffles a bit as she took his other hand and nodded, tangling their fingers. "You did all of this because you wanted to tell everyone about us? Because it's Valentine's Day?"
He swallowed the lump in his throat as he pulled one hand out of hers and shook his head. "No, I...I did all of this...because we have to tell everyone about us...so you could..." He stopped and gulped again, exhaling harshly as he pulled a small box out of his pants pocket. "So you could wear this to work. Once I put this on your finger, damn it, it's never coming off."
Her eyes widened, her freed hand shot to her opened mouth, and a small yelp escaped as she watched him slowly dropping down to one knee. She started nodding fast and furiously.
"I haven't asked you anything yet," he said with a small laugh and feigned annoyance. He pressed his lips together, took another slow, deep, breath, and flicked open the box. "Will you marry me?"
She froze, hearing the words leave his lips. She looked down at the ring, the delicacy of it, the way it sparkled as the last remains of New York City sunlight bounced off it. The years of secrecy played like a movie on fast-forward in her mind; slowing slightly when his divorce was finalized, when she moved in with him and his kids, when he told his mother about her, when his mother said she knew, and the movie stopped on one particular moment in time, a year ago, when she realized she'd never loved anyone the way she loved him, when she understood that everything that had ever gone wrong in her life was all but erased by him, by his devotion to her, by the way he consumed and protected and defended and adored her.
"So, what, I actually ask, and you change your mind?" he teased, wiggling the box a bit, getting her attention. He looked into her eyes, wet with tears but shining bright. "Liv, baby, marry me." It wasn't a question this time.
She took a breath and slid down to him, the hand that had cupped her mouth now cupping his chin. "You brought me...to the place we met..."
"The place I fell in love with you," he said, blinking once. "God, it sounds so ridiculous but...I knew...the moment I laid eyes on you, the minute you shook my hand."
Her hand swept up along his face and wound around his neck. She pulled him to her, brushing her lips against his. "Yes," she barely whispered, kissing him.
He moaned in relief and wrapped his arms around her tightly, deepening their kiss. He pulled back first, and then peppered her face, chin, and neck with what seemed like a thousand sweet kisses. He fumbled for a bit, his shaking hands trying to free the ring from the foam and box. He exhaled audibly again, through pursed lips, and then gave a hearty, happy laugh before grabbing her hand. "You sure?" he asked her, the ring a third of the way onto her finger.
She laughed back at him, smiling brightly, and said, "Damn right I am."
He let out a victorious whoop as he slid the ring onto her completely and pulled her back in for another searing celebratory kiss.
As the sun dipped behind the trees, bathing them in a wash of fresh moonlight, she pulled away from him and rested her head against his. "Happy Valentine's Day," she whispered.
He laughed, nodding, and said, "Best day of my life, so far." He pressed his lips to hers again, leaning backward on the gazebo floor, thanking God for the woman in his arms, the perfect night, and for seeing to it that it all went as planned.
Happy Valentine's Day
Peace and Love
Jo
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