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.

A contemporary dancer. A kindergarten teacher. A lawyer. A professional race car driver. These were only some of the things she could have been instead of what she was. Only a few of the careers she had considered, though only briefly, before she enrolled in the police academy. At this moment, she was regretting that decision. She rubbed her eyes with one hand as the other reached for the chipped mug of cold coffee.

"Here," a mellow voice said coolly, dropping a hot cup of fresh java on the desk in front of her.

The aroma wafted upward, hitting her as she inhaled, and her eyes popped open. She looked at him for a moment, her eyes widening enough to show just how bloodshot they were. "Bless you," she said gratefully, immediately setting the mug down in favor of the foam cup. She took a sip, savoring the heat and freshness, and after she swallowed she asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Bringing you coffee," he said, smirking. He sat on the edge of her desk and reached a hand out, brushing hair behind her left ear. "You haven't been home in days. I mean, shit, if this is anything like what I put Kathy through, no wonder she..."

"Benson, where are you with the..." Cragen stopped speaking, freezing as his right foot landed on the spot exactly halfway from his office to her desk. "Elliot," he almost whispered.

"Yeah," Elliot said, nodding. No smile was on his face, no hint of humor. "I'm not staying long."

Cragen took another step as he licked his lips. He folded his arms and asked, "Between cases?"

Elliot looked at Olivia and offered her a small smile. "Yeah, I took a few days off. I planned a family vacation, but, uh, you kind of put a stopper in it."

"Me?" Cragen asked, confused. "How did I..." he paused, looked from Elliot to Olivia, and noticed the way she was looking at him. His eyes narrowed but then widened slightly in realization. He let out a sharp breath and turned his attention back to Elliot. "Oh. Sorry. We're kind of short-staffed right now, I needed her on this."

Elliot gave a curt nod, a disbelieving grunt, and then he looked back down at Olivia. "Get this done, okay? It gets cold in that bed without you." He leaned over, kissed her cheek, kissed her lips, and whispered, "I love you." He stood up and headed out of the room, sending a harsh glare at Cragen over his shoulder before taking his final steps out of sight.

Olivia sighed as he faded from view, and she swiveled around in her chair in time to catch Cragen's questioning expression. She raised one eyebrow, gave him a slightly spiteful smirk, and asked, "What were you going to ask me?"

With another sigh, and the dismissal of several questions he had no right to ask, he finally brought himself closer to her. "I, um...I just needed to..." he took a breath. "Where are you with the ADA? Is Marcato being arraigned on all charges?"

"So far, just the rape," she said, leaning back in her chair. She picked up her coffee, took a sip, and said, "It's the only thing she can make stick until we get more solid evidence to connect him to the murder." She eyed Cragen as she took another sip of her coffee. "You gonna ask me?"

Cragen let a smile start on one side of his face. "How long?"

"Little over a year," she said, "And no, it doesn't get in the way of the job. His or mine." She scraped her teeth over her lower lip. "We've, um, crossed paths once or twice, helped each other out, but nothing insubordinate, inappropriate, or illegal, I assure you."

"You happy?" he asked, but he already knew the answer. He'd known, long before it became obvious to even her, that being with him was the key to her feeling any bit of true happiness.

She couldn't hide or help her grin. "Very," she said, and she looked down at her desk. "I'll be happier when this is over, though. I'm running on fumes, here. You know, I've asked him, I've begged him, he isn't coming back." She looked up at Cragen. "But it has nothing to do with me."

Cragen didn't have to wonder for too long, he knew what point she was trying to drive home. "I'm sifting through resumes." He blinked once. "Go home."

"What?" she almost scoffed. "You just told Elliot you needed me here, besides Munch, I'm the only one..."

"Go home, Olivia," Cragen said more firmly, interrupting her and raising his voice.

She shook her head, confused, grabbed her coffee, and walked out of the squad room. Unlike Elliot, she didn't look back. As she lifted her head, though, she chuckled. "You knew, didn't you?"

Elliot grinned smugly as he leaned against the wall near the elevator. He shrugged teasingly. "Had a feeling," he said, straightening up. He pulled her into his arms and into the elevator. As the doors slid shut, he wrapped her tighter in his embrace, took a deep breath, and kissed her.

It was a deep, soulful kiss, their tongues dancing and soft smacking, moaning sounds escaping through the small gaps between their lips as they moved. He backed away when he heard the faint ring of the bell, and he smiled at her. "I got a call, while I was waiting for you."

"Anyone I know?" She knew it was probably work, but if he felt the need to bring it up so vaguely, she'd play the game.

"Yeah, actually," he said, dragging his hand down to the slight dip at the small of her back. He walked through the lobby with her, almost protectively. "It was Ralph Meyers, the guy who used to work with..."

"Tucker," she finished for him. "I'm not going on-record again, whatever they need to hear to sweep it all under the rug, they can get somebody..."

"He's retiring," Elliot said, cutting her off. He had a shit-eating grin on his face, and when she turned to look at him, he laughed. "Not everything is about you, baby." He winked at her and gave her a playful shove toward his silver sedan.

She opened the passenger-side door and asked, "Why did he call to tell you that? I mean, as thankful as I am to see him go, I don't feel like going to his retirement party." She watched him sit and got herself settled as well. She was buckling her seatbelt when she heard his answer.

"He offered me a job," he said, blinking once. He waited until she turned to face him before continuing. He scratched his stubble-speckled chin and cleared his throat. "With him leaving, you know, uh, there's a shift in personnel. Griffin is getting a promotion, so is Tucker...not that he needs the power trip."

"What job?" She had gone white, her heart began to race. "Elliot, what job? Where?"

"Relax," he said soothingly. He reached across the console for her hand. "If it was anything that would take me away from you, I wouldn't even be considering it." He dragged his teeth over his bottom lip, waiting, and when he saw her relax, he said, "I'd be taking Tucker's place. This...um, this would still be my jurisdiction, and I would be in direct charge of the captain and the staff of every unit, in every department of the NYPD."

She blinked, frozen and silent, until her mouth curled upward and she tilted her head. "That would be me, for one."

He nodded at her. "There's more, um..." He stopped and he scratched at his chin again. "Tucker, um...his promotion is to the..."

"Shit, he really would be your boss," she said with disappointment. She saw him nod. "Why you? Why now?"

"You really think I know? I have no fucking idea," he said, giving her a narrow-eyed expression. "But, uh, I talked to Tucker, and he was actually the one who put my name in for it. He thinks I'm the only one with the balls to take the job."

She bit the inside of her cheek. "You get an office?"

"Yeah," he said, one eyebrow raising. "Naughty thoughts, Detective Benson."

She let her smile widen. "You get a raise?"

He nodded, dropped her hand, and started the car. "It would be a pretty big one. We could look for a bigger house in a better neighborhood. And we could..."

"Did you tell Tucker about us?" She didn't mean to blurt it out so rudely, but she needed to know. The sudden thought was making her panic and if she had to choose between him and her job, again, she'd need to go back over her list of missed opportunities again to start filling out applications.

He squinted as he turned the wheel and stepped on the gas, bringing the car onto the highway. "The first thing I said to him was, 'I'm with Olivia." He rolled his shoulders. "He told me that he knew our feelings got in the way when we were partners, he told me he knew that being with you was the reason I left the unit." He looked at her as he stopped at a red light. "He said it didn't matter because he was pretty sure I won't have to deal with you getting into any kind of trouble, and if I ever did I would make it my only priority to fix it, which would be my job, anyway."

"I don't get it," she said softly. "He hates you. Fuck, he hates me! Is that what this is? He knows how much fucking shit we give him all the time, how much I despise him, and he's hoping to split us up because I'll hate you, too?"

Elliot laughed as he changed lanes and got ready to turn off the road. "No," he chuckled. "No, baby, he actually thinks it'll bring us closer. He knows I won't be on your ass the way he was." He smirked. "He also knows I'm actually on your ass in a way he will never be."

Rolling her eyes, she laughed. "Mature," she quipped.

"True," he corrected. He slowed down as he drove toward the toll for the bridge, slowly passing through the auto-pay lane. "I would be able to make my own hours, review cases, I could even pop in and shadow you every once in a while and claim it's professional observation." He smiled. "I could make sure we get home at the same time, we could go home together."

"You want the job," she confirmed, looking at him.

"I kinda do," he told her, and he glanced at her with a smile. "I won't take it if you think it's going to damage us, or if you think it's going to be too weird with me in that position of authority."

Her smile grew slightly wicked and she let out a dark sounding laugh. "I never have a problem with your authority." She sighed and closed her eyes. "There's no negative to this, El."

"There, uh, might be one," he said. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her head pop up and her focus settle on him.

She waited, and when he remained quiet, she snapped at him. "What? What is it?"

"If I take the job, I start immediately," he told her. "I would take over Tucker's current investigation."

Her eyes widened a bit and a small gasp escaped. "Oh, honey," she said, her body slinking slowly deeper into the car seat.

He nodded resignedly. "Yeah," he whispered. "That's gonna be hard."

They rode the rest of the way in silence, sharing soft looks and comforting touches. He decided, as he pulled into his driveway, that he would take the job. But he didn't know, exactly, how to run an investigation involving a former friend, a former colleague, and a former boss. He would either salvage these relationships when the job was finished, or he'd destroy them entirely. With him, it was always one-or-the-other. He was a friend, or an enemy. He was a good-cop, or a bad-cop.

With him, there were simply no "in-betweens."

Peace and Love

Jo