A/N: Hi, this little introduction won't be long. Our names are Dani and Brooke (quohtes and bensler on IG) we're new to writing, so hopefully this doesn't completely suck! This story is set somewhere around season 13ish. We're not going to include the new cast members.
Review and let us know what you think.
The below freezing air makes her expelled breaths visible; if her body wasn't completely numb right now, she probably wouldn't have made it this long. She takes a sip of her coffee and involuntarily grimaces; of course, it's ice cold. The blinking clock on the dashboard catches her attention and she rubs her eyes to make sure she's reading it correctly. 10:17 P.M. They've been out here for two and a half hours and there hasn't been an ounce of activity. This stakeout is good for her, it's distracting. Otherwise she would be thinking about him. And how she stopped calling him 2 months ago because she can take a hint. When someone continuously ignores you, eventually you stop trying. He's been working Brooklyn Homicide for the past 6 months.
"How long are we gonna stay out here? I'm freezing. And hungry." His voice pierces her thoughts; she furrows her brows before refocusing. He's a 25 year old detective who barely walked a beat. They've been partnered for about 3 weeks, and she's...adjusting. She wants nothing more than to go back to the normalcy of a partnership again, but the only person she can think of is him. And how it ended. And why it's very important she doesn't get that close to someone again.
"As long as it takes." As if on cue, her stomach growls and she rolls her eyes. They watch the house intently for a few more minutes and he starts again.
"It's been almost 3 hours, nothing's happening. Come on, Benson." He pleads with her and she finally glances at him. His lips are quivering and she suppresses a laugh. Rookies.
"Okay. But only because my ass is numb." She starts the car and they make their way back to the precinct. She listens to him talk about everything. His girlfriend, his new apartment, his adopted dog, the courses he took in college, what he had for dinner last night, where his parents honeymooned, his sisters new fiancé. Getting information like this out of Elliot was like pulling teeth; she really has to stop comparing them. "Do you wanna drive?" She hopes the task will shut him up. The last thing she needs right now is a headache.
"Are you serious?" He sounds like a kid on Christmas morning. "Yeah!" He's already opening his door.
"Okay, calm the hell down Evans. Let me park the car first." She pulls up to an empty spot and they switch seats.
"Put on your seat belt and hold on, Benson. I'm about to make this car my bitch." He sees her disapproving look and immediately corrects himself. "I mean, you know, show you my driving skills."
"I know what you meant. Shut up and drive." She settles into the passenger seat and checks her phone. No messages or calls. She masks her disappointment and puts her phone away. With his eyes on the road, she decides to study her partner. Collin Evans. He's young and has a lot to learn. Like, a lot a lot. But he has a good heart from what she's seen. He's fresh out of the academy, barely walked a beat. He's a handsome guy. Sandy blonde hair, green eyes, chiseled jaw, very fit. He's a poster cop. He's the cop that tourists want to take pictures with. She rolls her eyes and observes the streets of New York City. Home.
She'd just come back from an interview with Fin when Cragen called her into his office. Her witty attitude never let her down in these kind of one-on-ones, but this was different. She heard it in Cragen's voice, saw it in his eyes. Her mind went blank and she lost the ability to breathe evenly. Recovering quickly, she put on her infamous poker face and followed him into his office.
"Close the door, Olivia." She wanted to run. She tried to get her breathing under control while she gently closed the door; she took her time before she turned around to face him. The silence was deafening. "Elliot put his papers in."
After a 10 minute drive, they pull into the precinct parking lot. "So? Am I good or what?" He's so eager for compliments, she decides to toy with his ego.
"How about you leave the driving to me?" With that, she gets out of the car and makes her way into the building.
"You're kidding, right?" He's sprinting towards her with an exasperated expression. "For real. You are kidding, aren't you? Come on, you know I did good. Grade me." His boyish attitude is drastically different than what she's used to. They wait for the elevator and he folds his arms.
He almost reminds her of herself when she first started working at SVU. Almost. She shakes her head and laughs. "Alright, you did okay. 7 out of 10." They move into the elevator and ride up in silence. Surprisingly.
After informing Cragen of their unsuccessful night, they descend from his office to work on their paperwork with one of Collin's playlists quietly filling the silence. 20 minutes later, they're done.
"Goodnight, Benson." Evans waved on his way out.
"Night" She tidies up her desk and decides to check her phone again. 1 unread message. She holds her breath and taps on the message icon. It's not him. She's disappointed.
TO: Olivia Benson
FROM: Collin Evans
You're a tough grader.
She ignores his message and turns off her desk light. "Night captain." She makes her way toward the elevator and waits.
"Goodnight." She hears him quietly make his way over to her and before she has a chance to look at him, he's holding a small round cake, willing her to take it. He's the father she never had. "And happy birthday, Olivia." She fights the urge to cry and instead hugs him briefly. He smiles and nods in the direction of the waiting elevator.
Ridding herself of work clothes is something she's grown to look forward to. Yes, she's at that stage in her life. She turns on the shower and steps in, letting the hot water cleanse her body. This is her thinking time, but lately thinking leads to crying and she's so tired of crying. She's drained, emotionally and physically. Work used to mean so much to her; it was tragic and traumatic, but at least she wasn't alone. At least she had him to make her feel alive. At least she meant something to someone. After two glasses of red wine and a pity party that's surely run it's course, she makes her way to bed. This is how it is most nights. He's who she wants. Wanted. Wants. She doesn't even know anymore. She's not sure of anything except that fact that she deserves a fucking explanation. He owes her that much.
2:29 A.M.
Her eyes shoot open and her heart races. She waits as her breathing starts to settle down only to hear it again. Loud, and quite frankly, obnoxious banging on her door. Her hand instantly finds her gun in her bedside table before she wraps her robe around her body and slowly makes her way to the door, careful not to make any noise. The banging starts again and she takes a deep breath before looking through the peek hole. It's him. Her body relaxes before she fully registers that while he may not be dangerous to her physically, he's definitely dangerous mentally. She carefully unlocks the door and opens it before he has a chance to knock again. Her eyes immediately find his and the will to fight she mad moments ago vanishes.
"Liv." His voice makes her eyes close and her grip on the door tighten. She's missed him so much. Her first instinct is wrap her arms around him but that's not gonna happen. She studies him quickly before her eyes find his; his black suit jacket is slung over his arm and his white dress shirt clings to his body. Elliot Stabler's body is a sight for sore eyes. "How about you put the gun down?" The feeling of missing him quickly turns into annoyance; the balls on this guy, after all these years, still managed to knock the wind out of her. She cocks her eyebrow and narrows her eyes.
"How about I make my own decisions?" It comes out harsher than she intended but that's a good thing. "What are you doing here?" He's clearly prepared for his visit because her hard attitude doesn't seem to affect him at all. After mentally debating with herself, she gives in and retreats to her bedroom to put the gun back in it's rightful place.
When she re-enters the living room, he's leaning on the kitchen island with one hand cradling a beer, he must have helped himself, and the other hand is holding a manila folder, she missed that when she first observed him. He looks strangely at home. This is how it used to be. They'd come back to her apartment after a hard case and he'd drink a little too much so he wouldn't have to drive home, she wouldn't let him. Before she lets her mind wander off too far, she breaks the silence. "Does your visit have something to do with that file in your hand?" She pushes her side bang behind her ear and moves toward him with caution.
He takes her in. She can feel his eyes on her as she moves around him and into the kitchen. She can't look at him too long, it's dangerous. She doesn't trust herself. She opens the fridge and pulls out a bottle of water, she takes a long sip before putting it back. When she turns around, he's eyeing her birthday cake from Cragen. "You can have a piece if you want." She knows he feels guilty and her sweet voiced offer is the icing on the cake. No pun intended.
He runs his hand down his face and sighs. She finally faces him. Direct eye contact with Elliot Stabler is not a good idea. He wants to say something. His mouth opens and closes multiple times before she caves. "Look, I'm tired." Her voice is laced with defeat and she hangs her head. There's so much she wants to say to him.
"So am I." He hangs his jacket on her kitchen stool and puts his beer on the counter. Suddenly he's in front of her with his hands on her shoulders and she feels tears coming. "I'm sorry, Liv." And she knows his apology isn't just because he missed her birthday. He's sorry for abandoning her. He's sorry he's here. He's sorry for things he hasn't done yet. His pained voice only makes this harder for her. She finds her voice again, and without looking at him, she whispers so quiet she's not sure he even heard her.
"Go home, Elliot."