That Disclaimer Thing That I Always Seem To Forget - I suppose because I eat, sleep, watch, think and write SVU, I really believe they not only are mine, but are really here beside me...talking to me. Okay, okay...don't call the guys in the white coats...I'm just kidding. Really. I am. I know deep in my heart that they belong to Dick...I just borrow them. And sometimes forget to give them back. " ) Bensler

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Something I have had partially written for a long time and hanging around the periphery of my consciousness for even longer. Just picked it up again and I think I can finish it in one more chapter...well, maybe two. Let me know what you think...or I might not finish it all! " ) Bensler

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Author's Chapter Notes: This was supposed to be a one shot...so I don't even have a chapter name. Maybe I will come up with one later... " ) Bensler

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Black & White

by Bensler

Chapter 1

SVU Squad Room – Wednesday, May 6 – 7:53 a.m.

Nearly every person he encountered on his way up to the SVU squad room had either glanced at or shot him strange looks or outright stared at him. It did not take many looks for him to become self-conscious. First thing he did was slide his hand down to check his zipper. It was closed. His clothes were all color coordinated, same kind of shoe on both feet. Shirt buttons and holes lined up. He wiped at his mouth for left over breakfast, straightened his tie, brushed non-existent dandruff from his shoulders and ran his hand over his hair. It was too short to be mussed. Finally, he came to the conclusion that he must be in serious trouble with Cragen and was the only one that was not yet privy to this information.

Fin and Munch did not look at him when he entered the squad room which was more strange than all the others looking at him. He saw Cragen peek at him through the open blinds in his office. Olivia apparently had not arrived for work. He looked at this watch. He was a little later than he normally arrived but not late. Usually, she was already working away when he got there.

Upon reaching his desk, he saw that someone had left a copy of that morning's New York Ledger on his desk. In the top right hand corner was a three by three inch blue Post-It note that read simply, 'Section F, Page 5'. Taking off his jacket, he hung it on the back of his chair then walked over to the coffee table and filled his mug. Sitting down, he took a sip of the steaming liquid and cursed as it scalded his tongue and the roof of his mouth. He picked up the paper and looking around, noticing nearly every eye on him; several conspicuously looked away as he met their gaze with a hard, threatening glare.

He had no idea what was on that page until he saw the title of the section 'Lifestyle'. Then he thought he might know, but decided it could not be. She would have told him first. Right? Turning to page 5, the picture jumped out at him. Even in the grainy, black and white picture of the newspaper her beauty was evident. He held the paper up, shielding his face from his colleagues. No doubt they were all looking at him, waiting for his reaction. He could not react. Not like he wanted to react. Not in front of everyone. But he felt himself losing the tiny bit of control he had managed to cling to as though it were a life preserver. He felt it slipping from his grasp. He was about to go under.

Standing, he grabbed his jacket, rolled the paper and held it in one hand and then the other as he walked out, putting his jacket on as he went. Once again, all eyes were upon him. This time he didn't care.

"Elliot! Where are you going?" Cragen called out, even though he knew exactly where his detective was headed.

He heard his captain, but he didn't care about that either. There was only one thing on his mind right now. The same thing that had been on his mind almost from the day he met her. Olivia.

Benson Residence – Wednesday, May 6 – 8:45 a.m.

Hitting the snooze too many times had caused her to be late for work. Since it was a rare occurrence, Cragen was understanding. She and Rey had been up late looking over different locations, making lists, and deciding on the type of music for the event. Time had gotten away and it was nearly 2:00 a.m. when he left.

She was almost finished eating her bagel when the knock on the door came. It did not even surprise her and she knew the knock as surely as she knew the timbre of his voice, the sound of his footsteps, and the rhythm of his breathing. It was her partner. And he had seen the paper.

Peeking through the security glass, she saw him impatiently tapping the rolled up section of newspaper in his hand. Yes…he had seen the paper. Even squinting through the tiny hole, she could tell simply by his mannerisms he was upset and she dreaded the impending confrontation. No doubt it would be a confrontation. Taking a deep breath in the hope of calming herself, she unlocked the door and opened it.

Blue eyes met the brown of hers. Blue eyes so familiar, usually comforting, yet today filled with desperation. Breaking the gaze, he stepped inside her apartment. Closing the door behind him, she leaned heavily against it, steeling herself for the tirade she knew was to come. She noted that he had on his navy blue suit with that shirt the same color blue as his eyes. He always looked gorgeous in that shade of blue and she reprimanded herself for even thinking about how good he looked today. Especially today.

Standing with his back to her, head down, broad shoulders slumped; he fingered the newspaper as he spoke quietly, "We're partners. Eleven years."

She couldn't think of anything to say in response to his statement of such an obvious fact, so she remained silent. And waited.

"We're best friends," he turned slowly to face her and she could not stand the hurt in his eyes and she looked down at the floor. At least the floor was not blue. It did not remind her of his eyes.

"We were more…I thought…so much more…why…why didn't you tell me?" he unrolled the newspaper. "How could you do this and not tell me?"

Holding up the wedding announcement, he continued, his voice cracking, "I deserved more than this, Olivia."

Knowing what it was, she could not bring herself to look up at it or at him, so she began to count the planks in the hardwood floor beneath her feet and wish that she could just fade away. Into oblivion. Away from those piercing blue eyes that held nothing but accusation. Judgment. Betrayal.

Searching for something, anything to say, she could find neither words nor her voice and in the silence his breathing was the only sound. Ragged, desperate, hopeless eruptions of air. And the sound tore at the thin veneer of indifference she attempted to veil herself with though it was nothing more than an impotent stab at protection.

Images from the last time he had stood here, almost in this very spot, assaulted her memory and she wanted to run. She did not want to do this with him. Not now. Not ever. His eyes burned into her, pleading for an answer. An answer she was sure she did not own.

Sighing heavily, she pushed off from the door and walked toward the bar that separated the kitchen from the living room. Placing her hands on the counter, she leaned across it willing the knot in her stomach to settle and not turn into full-blown nausea. Slowly she turned to face him.

"You knew it was getting serious," she said softly, glancing briefly at him before her eyes dropped once again to the floor.

The short laugh coupled with a hiss of air was sarcastic, "No, Liv. No, I…I didn't know. Not this. You never told me…you never once told me…it's only been a few months…how could you…after what you and me…" he shook his head, "how…how could you do this?"

"Do what, Elliot?" she was getting angry now. "Go on with my life? Try to find a little happiness? You made the choice! What did you expect me to do, huh?"

She came to stand in front of him; her eyes were black with rage.

Chewing on the insides of his right cheek, he dragged his hands over his head, "I…I don't know. But not this. Not this, Olivia! Not this!"

The way he looked at her tore into her psyche, slicing her heart. His mouth opened and closed and then opened again. He shook his head slowly, "Not this…oh, God…I thought we were…we had something…something special…how could you…do this…" The words drifted into a pathetic whisper.

He was sick to his stomach. His heart was trying to claw its way out of his body, he felt weak all over, his face was covered in perspiration and his head pounded with each beat of his heart. He wanted to grab her and shake her and tell her she could not do this. She belonged to him and she held his heart. He was hers. They were the missing pieces in the others life. He couldn't live without her and he knew she could not live without him. But that was the problem. She was living without him. She had wasted no time in finding someone else. All those years they had been partnered and he was married but he loved her and he later realized she had loved him all those years that she never had a long term relationship with anyone, and now just a few months after they broke up, she was getting married. Married. Olivia was getting married. And it was killing him. He was dying inside. And it was all his fault. His choice.

She did not know what to say. She was not sure why he was here at all. If he was so upset about it, then why wasn't he saying something to make her want to call it all off? All he had to do was tell her to call it off and she would. She would. In an instant. Why? Because. Because she still loved him. Would always love him. Instead, he was putting it all on her, making it all her fault. Why was she to blame for wanting to share her life with someone? For wanting not to be alone anymore?

Okay…she would admit Rey was not who she really wanted, but she cared about him and they made a good couple. Besides, maybe love was overrated. Look what good it did her with Elliot. She and Rey shared a lot of the same interests and they could talk for hours on end. Best of all they never had vicious fights, they rarely disagreed about anything. There was little history, good or bad, between them. Their relationship was solid if predictable. Both of them were dark, dark brown eyes and hair, olive skin, hers presumably from her rapist father, his from his mother's Peruvian ancestry. People often commented on what an attractive couple they were and how beautiful their children would be if they decided to go that route.

Well, six weeks ago Rey Curtis had asked her to marry him. He told her he wanted children. Right away. And he wanted to be married. All the things Elliot no longer wanted. Or so it seemed. So, she said yes.

Ten years ago Rey had taken early retirement to care for his wife who had multiple sclerosis. When she had died three years ago, he had returned to the homicide division as a detective in Manhattan's 27th Precinct. Olivia had met him briefly when one of SVU's cases overlapped with one of his. He did not catch her interest then because she and Elliot were together. He, however, was very interested in her and had come by the SVU one day to ask her to lunch. Right in front of Elliot. Of course, she declined, but later Elliot went off on her about it. He wanted to confront Rey and set him straight. It turned out to be one of their biggest fights ever. He was so jealous over her.

Four months later she and Elliot were broken up – for the third time in the year they had been dating. She had always had a problem making a commitment and thought she would be the one to be antsy about making their relationship permanent. But she wasn't. Not with Elliot. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, she knew exactly what she wanted. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with Elliot Stabler. Wanted to have his babies. He, however, though he swore his undying love for her, could not make the commitment to her she wanted so much. Needed. She wanted to marry him. She wanted children. And her biological clock was running out. So, she had given him an ultimatum, knowing very well that Elliot Stabler did not do ultimatums.

Benson Residence – Approximately Four Months Ago

That night was stamped into her memory as though it had just happened last night. She had made dinner for them, candlelight, music, the whole nine-yards. Afterwards, they sat on her sofa; sipping wine, listening to piano music on the new CD Elliot had brought, and talking quietly.

"El…you know how much I love you?" she had asked him, playing with his fingers entwined with hers.

Kissing the top of her head, he pulled her closer, "Yea, but not near as much as I love you."

She looked up at him and smiled, her hand cupping his face as she kissed him on the lips, "That right?" her eyes searched his for a long a moment. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to have your babies. I want to be yours totally. Marry me, Elliot. Marry me and make yours."

Her stomach lurched as she felt him stiffen and pull away, but he told her, "You're already mine, Liv. You've been mine for years. And you've held my heart a lot longer than that."

"Then let's make it legal. I want more than this. I want to be your wife, El," she felt her heart drop because they had been through this several times before and she knew what he was going to say.

"Look, Liv…we've been over this before. I'm not…I'm not ready to do that again, okay? I…just…I just want to be with you. Me and you. Together. A piece of paper means nothing. It's just a bunch of black words on white paper," his hands were framing her face and he bent down to kiss her.

Jerking his hands away and jumping up, she avoided his kiss, "Piece of paper means nothing? You - the devout Catholic who stuck by your marriage vows long after you and Kathy were over…you think it means nothing?"

He stood up now, too, his hands sliding down her arms to pull her back to him, "Come on, Olivia. You know what I mean. I was married for twenty-three years and look where it got me. I love you, you love me…we don't need a priest or a judge to tell us we're a couple. I just...what's wrong with how things are now? I like it just like it is."

She stepped back out of his reach, "Yea? You won't move in with me or let me move in with you, I want to wake up next to you every morning and yet, we rarely ever spend the night together…so, why is that?" she demanded. "Tell me again, Elliot, why?"

"Liv…you know why," his exasperated sigh was loud and heavy as he ran his hands over his face and head.

"Oh, I know exactly why. Because you have kids. And you don't want them to think it is okay to sleep or live together without…without what? Come on, Elliot. Without what?" her voice was rising in accordance with her anger.

Staring at her, his hands on his hips, he shook his head. He said nothing as he worked over his bottom lip with his teeth.

"Oh…now I remember. You don't want your kids to think it is okay to live together without being married. That would mean without that little piece of paper that states in black and white that two people have a legally binding contract, it's not a valid relationship," she delivered each word with scathing sarcasm, flames of anger consuming her eyes.

"Liv, please. Let's not do this," he walked toward her, his hands outstretched.

"You're right. Let's not do this. I can't do this anymore, Elliot. I want an answer. Now. Tonight. Are you willing to make a commitment to me that includes marriage? Are you, Elliot?" her chest was rising rapidly and she was afraid she might faint from the pounding of her heart.

His arms had crossed his chest, his stance widened, his blue eyes darkened, the brows knit together in a deep frown, his lips a straight line, and she knew the answer before he uttered a word.

"Don't make this an either or situation, Olivia," he warned, his voice tight with barely controlled emotion.

"Too late. I want to know, Elliot. If you can't make that commitment, then I need to move on," she was surprised at how even the words now sounded.

But she was serious. As much as she loved him, she wanted more. Much more from him, with him. From life. And she was not willing to waste any more time. She had waited and wasted enough on him already.

Unable to believe she was doing this, he tried again to reason with her, "Liv, baby, you don't want to do this. Please. Let's just calm down and…"

When he called her 'baby' it nearly killed her. She loved when he called her that. It sounded so possessive and she wanted to be possessed by him. But not now. Not unless he was willing to make it permanent.

"Calm down? No. Elliot, I want to know your answer. Now," she insisted, each word enunciated sharply, clearly.

Their eyes battled with each other for several minutes, but he finally spoke again, "I'm not going to be manipulated into doing or saying what you want by your threats and demands that I make a choice. I'm not, Olivia." His eyes suddenly took on a cold, icy glare but she remained resolute.

Nodding slowly, she turned and walked to the door. Her hand on the knob, she looked down at the floor, blinking back the tears that sprang to her eyes threatening to overflow.

She took a deep breath, "Then you've made your choice."

Opening the door, her hand still on the knob, she looked over at him.

For just the shortest second she thought he would change his mind, but then she saw his jaw tighten and watched him straighten as though steeling himself, and then he started toward her.

When he reached the door, he stopped, his eyes softening as he stared at her, and whispered her name in his deep voice, "Olivia."

Lifting her chin, her eyes met his and she knew he knew she was not backing down. Not this time. Neither said a word. At last, he nodded once and then he walked out of her apartment and basically out of her life.

And she cried herself to sleep.

Too many nights to count.

Until there were no more tears.

There was nothing.

She had become numb.

Benson Residence – Wednesday, May 6 – 8:45 a.m.

She never knew whether or not Elliot actually talked to Cragen, but shortly after that she found herself paired more often with Fin or Munch than him. She did not ask about the arrangement and he never offered an explanation. And like so many times in the past, they simply did not speak unless absolutely necessary and there certainly was no sharing of personal aspects of their lives. They became awkward and uncomfortable with one another once again. But neither, it seemed, had the courage to completely sever the tie, the whatever it was that bound them together, no matter how precariously.

All she knew was she could not - would not continue to live her life hoping and waiting for something that apparently had little, if any, chance of ever coming to pass. She had already spent nearly a quarter of her adult life wishing and hoping she could be with Elliot but when they had finally had their chance, he obviously did not feel like she did so she somehow found the strength to cut her losses and move on.

Four months and several men after they broke up, she saw Rey again at a weeklong ballistics class and they hit it off. This time when he asked her to lunch, she accepted. As they say, the rest is history.

The Saturday after next she would be Mrs. Reynaldo Curtis. Olivia Benson Curtis. Detective Curtis. And she should be ecstatic but…she was not.

She was in pain. And the object of her pain stood before her, right here in her apartment.

Again.

His blue eyes piercing hers.

Again.

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