This might have a different vibe to it, so hopefully that is a good thing, because what fun is cliches? (okay, sometimes they are great.) Ramble ramble. I don't own SVU or the characters blah blah blah. Sass sass sass. Enjoy!
Calming the Storm
The water sloshes beneath her feet.
She doesn't know why she left the comfort of her lonely apartment when all she wants is to be alone.
Or why she chose to walk in this weather.
Perhaps it's because the liquor store is right around the corner, and she just finished off a bottle of wine and is desperate for another.
She's unprotected from the downpour of the rain, and it soaks her hair and streams down her face. She barely notices. The sidewalk glistens from the dim light of the streetlamps reflecting on the wet pavement. She doesn't avoid the puddles she encounters but trudges along, unfazed by the heavy precipitation and wind whipping across the exposed skin on her face.
She's lost in her thoughts of the case she and Elliot closed today. Every time she blinks, she sees the little girl's face appear, or she sees the expressions of her parents when she informed them of their daughter's rape and murder.
It never gets easier.
Children are undeserving of all the hate of this world.
Little Maya should be asleep in her pink bedroom, dreaming of princesses and fairy tales. Her mother should wake her up tomorrow morning for kindergarten. She should be getting dressed in a jumper, and her mother should be tying ribbons into her caramel-colored braids. She'd eat her breakfast, perhaps pancakes or maybe her favorite cereal. Then she'd hop on the bus and join her friends; everyone is best friends at that age. At school, she'd learn how to spell dog and cat, practice coloring in the lines of circles and squares, then run around on the playground, laughing and trying not to get caught by whoever is "it".
She should be. And it hurts Olivia to know she never will do any of those things again. She feels a tightness in her chest, and she inhales a deep breath to relieve it.
Rape and murder cases are horrific.
Children's rape and murder cases are even worse.
The moisture from the rain is blurring her vision. She stops and looks behind her. Because of the dark, rain, and hectic thoughts, she realizes she's walked long past the liquor store. She looks down to her watch to calculate how long she has been walking, but she never checked the time of when she left. She looks at the building in front of her, and it looks vaguely familiar. Probably from a case at one point.
At this hour, she assumes it isn't open, but it doesn't have a sign that says otherwise.
Without a reason she could explain, she steps up to the doors - the large and intimidating front doors. She sighs, grasps the metal handle, and tugs. It opens, and she's greeted by an empty, dimly lit room. Hesitantly, she enters.
It's tall, and she finds the architecture breathtaking. Marble pillars rise from the floor to an arch in the center of the ceiling, and lights with golden rims hang down and illuminate the room. She glances all around her. It's eerie being in here alone with the only sound her breathing and the pattering of the rain on the roof.
She has been here before, but didn't have a chance to take in the beauty of it. Slowly, she walks down the main aisle with pews on both sides. The carpet is a plush red, and the pews are wooden with carvings on the bases. As she reaches the front, she stops and stares up at the crucifix. It's carved out of stone, and the detail of the face, the nails, the crown of thorns, the wounds, are all impeccable - perfect.
He's...it's...staring at her.
She closes her eyes, wondering why she came here.
Maya's face appears. The bruised, gashed face of a child who was raped of her innocence and her life. Olivia's hands fly up to her face, and she squeezes her temples and clenches her teeth. Her eyes burn as she fights the urge to break down in tears.
"Why," she whispers. The word is not a question, but rather holds a threat to it. She feels anger rising - fire surging through her weary muscles. "Why!" she screams before she can stop herself, "dammit, why! God, if you're really there, why the hell do you let these things happen?!" The tears are flowing unrestrained as she backs up and sits in the nearest pew. Her hands are holding her face, and she doesn't attempt to control the tears. They fall.
Her breathing is ragged, and her voice quiets. "She was only six," she whispers, "she was just a child. She didn't deserve this. None of these victims deserve this. It's not fair." She inhales an uneven breath. "It's not fair," she repeats.
She lifts her face up and glances around her. A few candles are flickering among a group of maybe twenty or thirty. Statues are scattered around the church, and all of them are replicas of different people, she notices. She looks back to the front at the crucifix.
It's the only one that seems to be watching her.
Another tear plunges down her cheek.
She realizes why she came here.
It's surprisingly peaceful even with the constant rainfall and the threat of thunder in the distance.
She isn't ashamed to cry. She doesn't feel like anyone is judging her for letting her weakness show. Even when she's alone at home, it doesn't always feel safe. But she feels unusually safe here.
She hears a buzzing and assuming it's thunder, ignores it. But it repeats. Once more. And again.
Her phone.
She digs through her coat pocket and pulls it out.
One missed call from Elliot.
One new text from Elliot. Where are you? I stopped by and you're not here
She wonders if she should have him pick her up here, but she knows he'll ask questions. Which means she will have to talk. She decides to tell him she went to the liquor store and would be back shortly. She should be able to make it before the severe storm hits.
The thunder crackles louder.
Maybe not. Shit, how far did she walk? She stands up and walks to the back of the church.
She wipes her face. She feels the dampness of her hair on her neck.
She'll run if she has to. She hits reply. I stopped by the liquor store. I'll be back shor-
Crash! She jumps with a gasp.
The lights above her flicker.
Then they disappear.
"Dammit," she mutters. She erases the message and hits call instead.
He answers within one ring. "Hey, Liv. Did you get my message? Where are you at?"
She sighs. "Hi, El. Yeah, I need you to pick me up. I don't want to walk back in this storm."
"Sure, where at?"
She can make it. "I, uh, I just stopped by the..." she exhales heavily, "I'm at a church. St. Ann's. It just lost power."
"I'll be there in a few minutes. Hang tight." She can hear the surprise in his voice, but there is still a warmness.
"Okay."
She hangs up, but leaves her phone out with the flashlight turned on. Besides the few candles in the distance, it's her only source of light. She waits, but time is moving dreadfully slow. She's watching the candles as they tend to flicker with the rhythm of the thunder. She shivers. Thunderstorms have never bothered her, but being alone in an unfamiliar place without electricity during one isn't at the top of the list of her favorite things to do. She can hear the wind howling as it causes the rain to fall to the roof in loud, sporadic wisps.
Finally, she thinks, when she hears the sound of a horn outside. She braces herself for the heavy rain and charges outside. She tugs at the passenger door of Elliot's car, and it's locked. "Really!" she shouts as the rain doesn't let up. He unlocks it when she smacks the window. "Are you kidding me?" she groans as she sits down. He's biting his bottom lip to stifle a laugh. "Don't you dare," she warns, but he cracks a smile. "I said don't you dare." He chuckles, humor gleaming in his eyes, and a smile smile creeps up on her. "I said, dammit don't laugh!" He bursts out laughing, and she joins in, unable to hold back. "It's not funny," she whines, "I'm soaking." But they both keep laughing. She smacks his arm, as she manages to stop laughing. She tries to be serious, but looks away, so she doesn't meet his eyes. "Stop. It's not funny." He stops laughing for a moment, and she peeks at him out of the corner of her eye, and he's smirking.
"You're right. It's not funny. It's actually quite hilarious!" She glares at him as he says it. "Oh, and watch the bag down there." He points to her feet. She looks down and picks it up as he pulls away from the church.
She smiles as she pulls the bottle out of the bag. "You got my favorite wine?"
He returns a smile. "Figured it might help calm the storm."
She watches the sky respond. He understands how hard she took this case. Of course he does; he always understands.
"Thanks, El." She turns the heat up and puts her hands against the heater to warm up her fingers, and he turns the volume of the radio up to a light buzz.
Elliot tightens his grip on the steering wheel, and leans forward slightly. "This rain just won't quit," he mutters.
"So much for calming the storm," she responds. "Good thing we're almost back," she adds quietly.
And they are. He pulls over to the curb and shuts off the car. They both sigh and exchange knowing glances before stepping out of the car and hurrying up the stairs and to her apartment. As Olivia is unlocking the door, she feels Elliot's fingertips ever so lightly on her lower back. She holds her breath.
Olivia opens the door and is greeted by a pitch-black apartment. She fumbles with the light switch, and nothing happens. "You've got to be kidding me. Power's out here too." The two simultaneously flip on the flashlights on their phones. "I'll find some candles. There's a lighter in the second drawer from the left." She hands him the bottle of wine to set on the counter and goes off in search of candles. She manages to find a few, not many, but enough to suffice. Before joining Elliot back in the kitchen, she opens the blinds to allow the lightning to occasionally brighten up her apartment.
"I managed to find a few." She lights the six candles while Elliot pours two glasses of wine. "I see you're staying," she comments with a smirk as she brings two candles into her small living room to line up on the coffee table.
"Course I am. I did buy the wine, remember?" His tone is casual - easy - but it strikes Olivia differently. Her heart rate accelerates, as she grabs two more candles.
"Good," she says softly. The thunder claps outside and matches the beating of her heart. She freezes at the edge of the coffee table. She can't breathe.
They're alone. Alone in her apartment. At ten o'clock on a Friday night. It's storming. The power is out. Light is emanating from only a few candles. And they're about to be sharing wine.
"Wouldn't want you to be driving back in this storm," she adds, then sets the candles down gently.
They're only friends. That's all this is.
Oh, but the atmosphere says otherwise. She almost whines aloud.
She slowly straightens back up, and she can sense his presence behind her. She doesn't move. She can hear his relaxed breathing. She can smell the wine he's holding, and she sighs.
"You okay?" he asks quietly. She can feel his breath on her neck.
"Yeah," she manages, turning to face him. She takes both wine glasses. "Could you grab the other two candles?" Her voice is too throaty. She sits on the couch, and he gets the candles and sets them next to the other four. "Thanks." Now, her voice is too quiet. He's sitting so close. She could just lean to the side a little, and her head would rest on his shoulder.
She takes a sip of wine, places it on the table in front of them, and leans back. He's watching her carefully, and she feels shy, so she doesn't meet his eyes. "Liv," he says faintly. She inhales, striking up some courage, and slowly, slowly, inch-by-inch... there. Her head is barely resting on his shoulder, and she breathes in his scent, closing her eyes.
"Liv," he repeats in a soft tone. "Why were you at the church?"
She sighs, expecting this. "I don't know, El. Maybe I needed help calming the storm, like you said earlier." Lightning responds with a flash, briefly illuminating the room. His arm wraps around her waist, and he pulls her closer against him.
"Did it help?" he asks against her hair. She smiles against his shirt.
"A little." Honestly, it's being so close to him - being held by him - that's truly helping. She doesn't want to be alone if she has the other option of being with him. They are silent for a few moments; the rain, thunder, and their breathing are the only sounds emitting. Olivia opens her eyes and watches a candle, listening to the soft crackle of the flame. She feels Elliot's thumb carefully stroking her hip, and her breathing hitches. "What are we doing, El? What is this?" she asks suddenly.
His movements slow to a stop. "I'm comforting you," he responds quietly.
"Is that all it is?" she asks. She hopes not. Damn, she hopes not.
He sighs. "I'm not sure," he answers truthfully.
She barely nods, waiting a moment before asking her next question. Her voice is barely a whisper, but it roars over the storm. "Is that all you want it to be?" She squeezes her eyes closed, awaiting his answer.
His fingertips graze her jaw, and she lifts her head from his shoulder. He stares into her eyes, the glow of the small fires burning in them. "No, Liv, it's not." He leans down, and his lips brush against her forehead. The simple contact makes her smile.
"Me neither," she whispers. He's smiling with her. It's warm, comforting, and real. Not many people have the privilege of seeing Elliot happy the way he is now, and she feels fortunate to be one of the few, and to be the reason. "What are you waiting for?" she asks him.
It's as if he was waiting for her permission because his lips are on hers as soon as she finishes her question. They're soft against hers, and he's gentle, and Olivia sighs. She's wanted this, to feel how perfectly their lips mold together and to taste him while she's surrounded by nothing but him. The storm has died down, but she believes her heartbeat has replaced the sound of the thunder. She becomes more forceful, her desire for him growing stronger. She grips at the back of his neck, her fingernails marking him. He pulls her tighter against him, and she can feel that her heartbeat isn't the only one accelerating wildly.
To her dismay, she releases the kiss in order to distribute oxygen back to her lungs. "El," she whispers breathlessly, as his lips trail down her jawline and to neck, peppering her with light kisses. "I think the storm stopped." He's softly sucking on the pulse on her neck, and she's fighting to breathe steadily.
He lifts her onto his lap and captures her lips with his again. She smiles as he says, "I think you're right," against her lips.
She leaves his lips and drags hers along his jawline and to his ear and whispers in it, "But you're staying." It isn't a question, but a demand.
"Course I am."
Please let me know what you thought of it! :)