A/N: Quirk: (noun) a peculiarity of action, behavior, or personality; mannerism. A sudden twist, or turn. A clever or witty remark. In this story, each definition of the word is relevant. AU – Kathy and Elliot are divorced, she has the kids, no Eli. Set in the seventh year of their partnership.

DISCLAIMER: SVU and characters belong to Dick Wolf. Story belongs to TStabler© Read it? Love it? Review it!

Everyone has their quirks. Some are clearly visible to the rest of the world, unabashedly displayed for all to see. Some people hide their quirks so deeply, so profoundly, that no one suspects they have them. Some people share their quirks with another person, mutually engaging in the odd behavior or practice, making them feel less alone and more comfortable. While others still have quirks they do not realize they have, and when they're pointed out, it's either embarrassing or liberating. The men, and one woman, of Manhattan's Sixteenth Precinct's Special Victims Unit have quirks, fitting all of the categories, types, and levels of quirkiness.

Detective John Munch, for example, has quirks that everyone notices, they all talk about them, and he even brings them to people's attention. His first, and most prominent quirk, is just downright crazy.

"It's not a coincidence that your phone broke just as Cryptech came out with the one you want, Fin," Munch declared.

"Oh, here we go," Olivia said, rolling her eyes. "Wake me up when he's finished." She dropped her head into her hands, feigning sleep at her desk.

Munch chuckled and shot her a look. "Benson, it's a conspiracy. You honestly believe that the people who make the cell phones don't care which service you use their product with? They practically break your arm to choose one service over the competition, and no matter what, you will love the one you choose as long as you have the phone. They emit subliminal messages through the cell phone, making you believe you love the service provider!"

Elliot looked at Fin and said, "Please, never talk about your cell phone again."

"All I said was I think I needed to switch services," Fin said. "Then he asked why, and I told him it was because Cryptech came out with a new…"

"Please," Olivia said, rubbing her eyes. "Stop, Fin, you'll make Munch start all over again."

Munch was a conspiracy theorist. One of his many quirks, one that everyone else knew about. One that was either incredibly interesting or incredibly annoying, depending on the time of day, topic, and relevance to the day's events and conversations.

His friends and colleagues complained, ad nauseum, about his bad habit, but they all knew they had quirks of their own. Two of them, the shining stars of the unit, had a horrible quirk. A quirk that, if the rest of the unit ever found out about, would put their friendships, careers, whole lives on the line. They did their best to keep their little perversions private, secret from everyone, except each other. So far, so good. They were normal, professional, seemingly flawless while they were at work, in front of others. But once the doors of the station house closed behind them at the end of a rough day at work, the bad habits came out, with a vengeance.

"Liv," Elliot called after her as she began to walk in the direction of her apartment.

Olivia turned around, catching his eyes, seeing a look in them and knowing what that look meant. "What, El?" she asked, as if she didn't know what he wanted.

"Let me drive you," Elliot said, a small, maniacal smirk playing at his lips. "It's late, and I know what kind of psychos are out there."

"So do I," Olivia said, smirking back at him. "But if you insist."

The conversation, cleverly scripted and well rehearsed for the benefit of the other beat cops and detectives who might be listening or watching them, was superficial. A guise, designed to shield the truth of why Elliot needed to drive Olivia home, why Olivia didn't blow him off and keep walking. To the outsiders, it was simply a good cop looking out for his equally good partner.

The ride to her apartment was silent, the car filled with a tense silence and a misty haze of excitement and anticipation. Because it was her custom, her habit, another one of her quirks, Olivia looked at him as he parked the car and said, "Lemme guess, you want me to flash the lights when I get inside?"

"No," Elliot said, taking his keys out of the ignition. "I'm coming up with you."

The gleam in Olivia's eyes was almost evil, sinister, as she opened her door and got out of the car. She didn't think this would be so damn habit-forming, but then again, a year ago, she never imagined this happening at all, and she'd been wrong then, too. She led Elliot up the front steps, through the doors and to the elevator. The ride up to the third floor was agonizingly slow, since they both had a desperate need to get into her apartment, get what they came for. The metal door slid open and Elliot dashed out quickly, finding his key to her apartment, his patience wearing thin.

Olivia looked on with a chuckle and a smile, the wicked gleam in hers remaining where it was, and she waited until he got incredibly frustrated with the lock before telling him, "Wrong door, El."

"Huh?" Elliot asked, looking up. "Oh," he chuckled. "Guess I'm a little, uh, anxious." He quickly moved to the next door, pushing in the key and letting out a cry of accomplishment when it opened. He held it open for her, grinning at her, and then, the moment the door was closed, he attacked.

"Jesus!" Olivia gasped, unprepared for the rushing of his body into hers. His lips were on her neck, biting hard, as his hands grabbed and pulled at her clothes, clearly unconcerned with whether or not they ripped. "Harder, El," Olivia whispered, her hands on the back of his head, holding him in place as he assaulted her jugular. He sank his teeth into a soft spot, just behind her ear, and Olivia moaned, from low and deep in her belly.

"Oh, God, I love that sound," Elliot mumbled, still biting as his hands moved from Olivia's almost naked form to his own body, tearing the pieces of his suit off. Once he'd gotten down to just his boxers, he grabbed Olivia, hoisting her up around his waist, and leaned her over the couch. He set her down, having her sit on the back of the sofa, and he kissed and bit every part of her body. He pecked and nibbled from her neck to her chest, biting and kissing the tops of her breasts as he reached around, sightlessly unclasping her bra.

Olivia shrugged out of it and tossed it to the floor, moaning in sheer pleasure as Elliot chuckled and moved his mouth over her left nipple, sucking and biting. "El! Oh my God, Elliot."

Elliot gave her a grunting laugh in response, then moved again, biting and kissing a trail down her toned stomach, down to her waist, grabbing the waistband of her silk panties in his mouth. He looked up at her and quirked an eyebrow, the smirk on his face was devilish.

"Don't," Olivia warned.

Elliot growled, looking much like a dog with a chew toy in his mouth, and yanked, ripping the silk material off of her body. He spat it out, the now-useless fabric landed on top of Olivia's discarded bra, and he chuckled again. His mouth moved back to her waist and he nibbled and kissed his way lower, till he found her wet, throbbing center. He went right to work, sucking and biting on her clit, licking up and down the center of her slit, sometimes biting and pulling on the flesh, the whole time he was smirking and chuckling, giving Olivia evil eyes. He worked fast, and the moment before she came he knew, and he used his tongue in magical ways to make sure he drank up every bit of what she gave him as she cried out his name and shook violently, holding onto his shoulders so she wouldn't fall off of the back of the couch.

Olivia, in ecstasy, grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled, hard, emitting another growl from him.

Elliot looked up at her, smirking. "What, Liv?"

"You know what," Olivia moaned, giving him a sexy grin. "Up," she commanded.

Elliot let out another deep laugh as he kissed and bit his way up her body, his hand shoving his boxers down when he was on his feet. He bent his head and kissed Olivia, deeply, roughly, biting her tongue and lips and their teeth clashed together.

Olivia's hands moved to Elliot's waist, one holding his hip for leverage while the other wrapped tightly around his incredibly hard shaft, stroking.

"Fuck," Elliot gasped, kissing her more powerfully.

Olivia chuckled. "It's Thursday, so yeah, that's what we're doing, El," she said as she bit his bottom lip and pulled. She held him tighter, and stroked faster, looping her legs around his waist. She pulled him closer, and guided him to her entrance. She bit the side of his tongue, brought both hands up to his neck, and pulled his head toward hers, vacuum-sealing the kiss.

Elliot seethed in pleasure as he pushed into her, feeling her stretch and contract around him. He pulled his lips off of hers to spit out, "Oh, fuck, baby." He pushed in further, looking into her eyes. "Shit, you feel so fucking good, Liv."

Olivia, in too much painful pleasure to move or speak, nodded as she pressed her lips together tightly. "Hmmm," she moaned, another low, deep, delicious sound.

"Oh, God, you're gonna kill me one of these days, baby," Elliot said, beginning to move rapidly. "You're gonna gimme a heart attack." He hit into her, hard, rough, he knew he was going to leave bruises in his wake, but that was what happened on Thursdays. "God dammit, Liv," Elliot choked out, holding onto her tightly.

"Yes, El," Olivia gasped. "Shit, baby, faster," she requested.

Elliot laughed, wrapped his arms around her tighter, pulled her closer to the edge of the couch, and he moved faster. He pulled her hair, roughly, detatching her lips from his neck. She moaned and chuckled and cried his name. "You like that, baby?" he asked, moving harder and faster.

"God, yes!" Olivia yelled. "Oh, fuck, El!"

Elliot dropped his lips to hers again, assaulting her with kisses. Rough, violent kisses. "Fuck, baby," he mumbled as he kissed her. "So fucking amazing."

"Harder, El," Olivia demanded, her eyes closed as she kiss him back with just as much vigor.

Elliot hit harder, feeling their pelvic bones meet and hit hard against each other, and every time it happened, he and Olivia moaned each other's name and let a few choice curse words fly. "Liv," Elliot said, his voice taking on a warning tone.

"Oh, God, oh, God," Olivia panted. "Right there, El, yes, baby!" she cried, her voice getting higher, louder.

"Liv," Elliot warned again, knowing he was close, needing her to fall with him. "So close, baby," he said, feeling her clench around him, "Yes, baby, come on, Liv."

Olivia screamed his name, growling out a loud, "Elliot!"

"God, Olivia," Elliot grunted, his own phenomenal release spilling into her as he thrust, still fast, still hard. "Shit, Liv, baby," he panted, giving three more thrusts, punctuation for his words, before he stilled inside of her.

Olivia, breathing heavy and sweating, draped over his shoulders, shuddered as a blissful aftershock rolled through her. "Holy shit, El," she whispered to him.

"I love Thursdays," Elliot said, his forehead resting limply against hers.

Olivia chuckled. "I like Mondays and Fridays," Olivia said, breathless. "But I fucking love Thursdays."

"Sundays are nice," Elliot said, his lips finding hers, kissing her softly.

"And Tuesdays are…yeah, I love Tuesdays," Olivia said, smiling as she gave him a chaste peck on the lips.

Elliot nuzzled her nose, looking into her eyes, and asked, "What about Wednesdays?"

"Oh, Wednesdays," Olivia said with a breathy sigh. "Wednesdays are amazing, too."

"Thursdays, though," Elliot said, twitching back to life inside of her, "When it's rough, violent, frenzied, that's when I know."

Olivia moved her hips, rolling a little in response to his movement. She asked, "Know what?"

"That we're perfect," Elliot said, kissing her again. "Mondays, when we take it slow, almost agonizingly slow, it makes me realize how much I love every inch, every single part of you. Tuesdays, depending on what page we open the book up to, is either incredible, or painful but still incredible, and it makes me realize that you're willing to try anything with me."

"I trust you," Olivia said, her hips starting to roll into a steady motion.

"I know you do," Elliot said, smirking as he, too, began to move his hips. "Wednesdays, with the blindfolds and the candles and the scented, flavored massage gels, Wednesdays make me realize that you and I have a miraculous, deep, powerful connection, because we don't have sex, and we still both cum. From just touching and talking."

"Fridays?" Olivia asked, moving faster, moaning lowly.

Elliot kissed her, pulling back to speak. "Fridays are romantic, and they make me cherish you, make me truly feel what's between us. Fridays are when it's absolute, one hundred and ten percent, making love. No quirks, no games, no themes, just us."

"Saturdays and Sundays?" Olivia questioned, throwing her head back as Elliot thrust harder.

"Saturdays make me realize just how much stamina you and I have," Elliot said, with a few grunts. "We start after work on Saturday, and I don't know about you, but I lose track of time. Knowing we don't have to get up early the next day, Liv, it's like giving us permission to go all night."

Olivia moaned, shifting her weight. "We always do," she laughed. "We beat our record, by the way."

"Yeah?" Elliot asked, slamming into her now.

Olivia nodded. "Twelve," she said. "Went right through the alarm on Sunday."

"Damn, we're so good together," Elliot said as he bent his head to kiss her. "Sunday nights, when we just cuddle and watch movies, and talk, and laugh, that makes me realize that this isn't just sex. It never was, and it never will be."

Olivia clenched around him again, and said, "So, Thursday."

Elliot moved faster, clutching her tight. "Thursdays, I know that you can handle anything. I realize that I don't have to worry about hurting you, and everything I've got, you can take. I know that you're tough, and strong, and you have the same kinks I do. Biting, scratching, all of it. You love it just as much as I do, and you give it just as much as you take it," he explained, slamming into her with force and power until she started to shake. "I've only ever done it like this with you, Liv," he whispered keeping her on the brink for a bit, purposely missing her magic spot. "I love you," he whispered, slamming into her, giving her what she needed.

"I love you," Olivia said, clenching hard and holding onto him. "Holy shit," she whispered, dropping her head to his shoulder as she vibrated.

Elliot pumped her, five strong times, then let himself go, too, with a hard, loud, cry of her name. As he rested his head on her shoulder, kissing it, calming down for the second time, he said, "I don't know how much longer we can do this."

"Oh, I could go all night, you know that," Olivia said, chuckling.

"No, Liv," Elliot said, kissing her neck as he breathed heavily into her ear. "I meant this. Back and forth from your place to my place, pretending we're seeing other people, talking about you like you're not there, listening to you refer to me as 'he' and 'him,' hiding this. Us."

Olivia pushed him off her slightly. "We're not really hiding. We're just not shouting it from the rooftops. And you know why we can't do that."

Elliot nodded. "I know. Can we at least talk about the first part?" he asked, pulling out of her and reaching around her waist.

"What?" Olivia asked, hopping down from the couch with Elliot's help, leaning against him for support since she couldn't feel her legs.

"Can we, uh, pick a place? Stick with it?" Elliot said. "No one will ask questions. No one has any idea what's going on with us, they'd think it's just logical, ya know? Partners and roommates, makes it easier to go out on a call, get back and forth to work."

Olivia nodded. "Can we talk about it tomorrow though?" she asked, nuzzling sleepily into his chest.

"Yeah, baby," Elliot laughed, leading her to the bedroom. "Ya know, eventually someone's gonna ask you walk into work with a limp every Friday."

Olivia chuckled as Elliot lifted her and placed her gently in her bed before climbing in next to her. "I'll just tell them I have sciatica, and it only acts up on Fridays. One of my little quirks."

A/N: Anyone want Friday? To see how a quirky Friday with these two works, and to find out what Fin's quirk is? Lemme know, and I'll give it to you.