Title: Untouchable Face
Author: PoppyB
Rating: M
Pairing: E/O
Disclaimer:God, I love 'em. But they're not mine.
Summary: Munch cleared his throat meaningfully and slapped Elliot on the back. "Our man Elliot here has moved back home."

A/N: An oldie...reposted.

think i'm going for a walk now
i feel a little unsteady
don't want nobody to follow me
'cept maybe you

i could make you happy, y'know
if you weren't already
i could do a lot of things
and i do

tell you the truth i prefer
the worst of you
too bad you had to have a better half
she's not really my type
but i think you two are forever
and i hate to say it
but you're perfect together

so fuck you
and your untouchable face
and fuck you
for existing in the first place

who am i
that i should be vying for your touch
who am i
bet you can't even tell me that much

Ani Difranco - Untouchable Face

Her morning was actually going okay. She'd had a long, hot shower, used that new shampoo that made her hair smell like vanilla all day. She'd even shaved her legs, just because. It was a beautiful day in mid-fall - her favourite time of year. The leaves were promising change and there was a hint, just a hint, of frost in the air. She'd splurged on an extra large coffee from the overpriced cafe down the street and sipped at it as she made her way through the throng of commuters. She walked briskly, her boots keeping a solid beat with the chant in her head: El-li-ot. El-li-ot. She grinned like an idiot and tried to force herself to stop. Olivia, she chided herself, you are acting like a lovesick schoolgirl. But she kept grinning in spite of her admonitions. As she walked into the station, the thought that she would see his face, his eyes, see him, in a matter of minutes, lifted her spirits even higher. And there he was, perched on the edge of his desk, chatting with Fin and Munch as if he had no idea in the world the impact his very existence had on his partner of seven years. His head snapped up the second she entered the room, his eyes locked on her face, drawing her in. His lips curled up in the slightest smile and he gave her a tiny nod.

Ahhhh, you.

"Morning," she said brightly, dumping her bag on her desk. "What have I missed?"

"Not much, not much." Munch leapt up to pull out her chair grandly. She sank into it, cradling her coffee between her hands. "Well, some. I mean, you've missed a bit. Elliot has some news, don't you, my friend?"

"Really?" Olivia tilted her head at her partner. His eyes hadn't left her face since she'd entered the room, but his smile had faded. In fact, his brilliant blue eyes looked rather dark and even more intense than usual, if that was possible. Her brow furrowed as she waited for him to talk. He didn't. "Am I going to be privvy to this so-called news?"

"Come on Elliot. You seemed pretty excited about it a minute ago," Fin broke in. Still Elliot only watched Olivia and for the first time in their relationship, Olivia had no idea what he was thinking. He looked...well, he looked suddenly like he was on the verge of tears.

"Come on El," she said, grinning in spite of the splintering sick feeling in her stomach. She wanted to know. And she didn't want to know. "Fill me in."

Munch cleared his throat meaningfully and slapped Elliot on the back. "Our man Elliot here has moved back home."

Olivia heard the words, but they weren't fully registering in her consciousness. She felt her lips curving into something resembling a smile, but there was a loud buzzing in her ears and she couldn't feel her hands anymore. Were they still holding her coffee? She forced herself to look down. There it was, the jaunty green and brown cup she'd purchased less than an hour ago, for an exorbitant price. She placed it very carefully on her desk and wiped her palms on her pants. All the while she felt Elliot's eyes burning holes into her.

"Home." She repeated the word, but still wasn't sure of its meaning. Home? Whose home?

"He and Kathy are back together. They're giving it another go." Munch's voice was very loud, despite the buzzing. And God, he wouldn't shut up. "And here I thought you'd finally decided to join me on the dark side, man. So, no divorce after all? What a good Catholic boy!"

Olivia dragged her eyes up to Elliot's face, feeling hideously ill and curiously numb all at once. She knew she had to do something, say something, before somebody noticed the stunned look on her face, but the combination of coffee and shock was doing not very good things to her stomach. She desperately didn't want to vomit all over her feet. Please don't puke, don't puke, whatever you do. Say something supportive and then run to the bathroom. No, don't run. Saunter casually, as if you could care less. Fuck.

"Wow, El," she said softly. She wasn't sure he could hear her, but he was staring like he could see right through her, as always, leaning forward slightly, toward her, every fibre of his being focused on her, her face, her body, her reaction. He wouldn't stop looking at her. "That's, uh, pretty surprising, huh?"

"Yeah." It was the first word he'd uttered since she'd come in. Yeah. Very deep, Elliot. He sighed then, deflated, his head dropping down. "Yeah, it is." He said this very softly.

"I'm...happy for you. Seriously. That's great news." Now she was outright lying and she had to stop somehow. She wished she'd bought a bagel so she could shove it in her mouth. He looked at her again and she could have sworn he mouthed "I'm sorry, Liv," but she could have imagined it, because all of this had to be a dream. She couldn't possibly have just heard that Elliot Stabler, her Elliot, was reuniting with his wife, who left him more than a year ago and was supposedly divorcing. What the fuck was going on? Had she fallen and hit her head in the shower this morning? She picked up her coffee and took too big a gulp. She was coughing rather violently when Cragen walked in and Munch called him over and the entire gut-wrenching, horrendous scenario had to be replayed in glorious technicolour once again. As Cragen tentatively congratulated Elliot, keeping a watchful eye on Olivia, she stood, still coughing and excused herself to the washroom.

Once enclosed in its dim sanctuary she did puke, and not on her feet, thank God. She splashed cold water on her face, rinsed out her mouth and patted herself dry. She steadied herself at the sink, taking deep breaths, trying not to think about anything other than this moment. And the next. Beyond that, she was spent. She forced her mind into some semblance of rational thought. Baby steps, Benson.

One: What did she care that Elliot and Kathy were getting back together? She should be happy that her friend, her best friend, was reuniting with his wife. Good God, they had four kids together! What kind of bitch would she be if she wasn't happy for him, for his family?

Two: Who was Elliot to her? He was her partner. Her work partner. Three: Was she dating Elliot?

No.

Four: Had they ever kissed?

Definitely not.

Did she want to date him?

Did she want to kiss him?

OK. Enough of these stupid questions.

Olivia took one more deep, cleansing breath, smoothed down the front of her shirt and exited the bathroom. And almost ran right into Elliot.

"Hey, El," she said brightly, trying to squeeze by him. He wouldn't let her.

"You OK?" he asked quietly, studying her. His eyes seared hers, and God help her she couldn't look away.

"Yeah, fine." She patted her chest. "Went down the wrong tube."

"That's not what I meant--" he reached out to touch her arm, when Cragen interrupted.

"You OK Olivia?" he asked kindly.

"Great! I'm great!" she was talking loudly and quickly, but her tongue was thick and glued to the roof of her mouth. "Why does everyone keep asking me that?"

Cragen took the hint and nodded briskly. "Good. OK, you two. You've got work to do." He began detailing their new case but Olivia was fading out, staring at some spot above Cragen's bald head. And still Elliot watched her. What the hell was he looking for? Was he waiting for her to cry? Scream? Faint? Fuck. She was dying inside and she had forgotten she still had to work with this man. Suddenly she regretted coming back. Regretted thinking she didn't care. Regretted thinking her feelings for him were anything less than what she knew they were and that she didn't want to kiss him every bloody time she laid eyes on him. Her safe little desk job was looking safer and better by the minute.

"Are we going to talk about this?" he asked several hours later. They were parked outside Marcus Stevenson's condo, waiting for the suspected child molester to make an appearance.

"What's that?" she asked, widening her liquid brown eyes. Elliot sighed, rubbed his head. He looked...utterly lost.

"C'mon, Liv. We know each other better than that, I hope."

Something inside her snapped when he said that. Keep the bitterness out of your voice, Olivia.

"Well, Elliot, I guess we don't. We don't know each other better than that, because this is a pretty major event in your life. Don't you think? It's major. And the first I hear about it is this morning. In fact, it reminds me of the last major event in your life, when Kathy took the kids and left you. Remember? I think I found out about that a couple of weeks after the fact." So much for the bitterness. He flinched, as if she'd slapped him. Good. Slapping is too good for you right now you son-of-a-bitch.

"I know. I know." Elliot sighed again and looked out the window. It was a bright fall day and Olivia felt like dying. All the good feelings she'd had that morning were gone and she didn't know if she'd ever get them back. "I didn't mean for you to find out like that. Fucking Munch and his big fucking mouth."

"It doesn't matter." She pressed her fingers to her eyes, hard, to quell the tears she felt burning there. "I meant what I said. I am happy for you. And Kathy. And the kids. They must be thrilled." She sounded robotic, which is pretty much how she felt.

"They don't know yet. This just happened. Two nights ago. I wasn't going to tell anyone, but Munch heard me talking on the phone this morning and..."

"Yeah," Olivia said quietly. Two nights ago. God. Were they sleeping together again? Had they already had sex? It didn't matter. That was her new mantra, she decided. It doesn't matter. Now, if only she could make herself believe it. Elliot reached over to touch her but she pulled away.

"Liv--"

"So, how did all this come about?" she asked smoothly and, she hoped, casually. "I thought the divorce was a done deal. Whose idea was this?" She stopped, bit her lip to keep from talking anymore. She didn't really want to know. He didn't answer for so long she didn't think he was going to.

"When you...when you left, after the Gitano case...I...I thought that was it, y'know?" Olivia had never seen Elliot struggle for words like this. His hands gripped the steering wheel and, for the first time that day, he refused to look at her. "I mean, when Kathy left, took the kids, it ruined me. You know that. You saw it. You lived it, pretty much with me." His knuckles were turning white with the effort to hang on to something tangible. "But, for how horrible that time in my life was, how, day to day, I wasn't sure I could make it, walking into that office and seeing you, knowing I had you, knowing...it made the whole mess...not okay...but survivable." He paused then, as if waiting for her to say something.

"I'm not sure survivable is a word, El," she said, then wished she hadn't. It was a stupid, stupid thing to say. But he hadn't heard and he still wouldn't look at her.

"And then...I saw you, getting knifed, and falling and I swear to God, any thought I had of running after that sick bastard vanished. Any notion of saving that poor kid..." Elliot's grip on the steering wheel intensified to the point Olivia thought he might tear it right off. She was trying to hear what he was saying, really hear it, but some of the buzzing was back. "Just to clarify, you didn't let Ryan die, Liv. I did. Because I chose you. I chose you and it wasn't even a choice. It was...a reflex. No...that's not even the right word. It was...self-preservation, in the most selfish sense. 'Cuz if you'd died there, I might as well have laid down beside you and put a bullet in my own head."

Olivia closed her eyes then, let two hot tears slip from beneath her lids. That Elliot was saying these incredible things to her, after seven years, was more than enough to reduce her to tears. That he was saying them now, here, after the news she had received earlier, was almost too much to bear, because nothing good could come of this.

"El..." she whispered.

"No. Don't," he snapped. "Just...let me finish, 'kay?" She nodded, even though she wasn't sure he could see her. He was still riveted on some spot through the windshield.

"And then, you killed me anyway. You left me. And I died. I died, Liv. There was nothing left then. Less than nothing. I thought...thought that was it. It was over. Whatever this is. Or was."

He finally pried his hands off the steering wheel and leaned back, exhaling long and loud. "D'you see? Do you get it, Liv?"

He turned to her, his eyes flashing blue and anger and sadness. How was it possible for his eyes to convey so much at once? If he saw her tears he made no move to acknowledge them. "And, of course, Kathy found out. That you'd gone. And knowing me the way she does...or did...she called. To see how I was doing. 'Cuz she knew. She knew how I felt...feel, about you. She called and asked me out for coffee." He laughed suddenly.

"I don't see anything funny about this," Olivia said.

"Oh God, Liv. Neither do I. But if I don't laugh I may just cry, OK?"

They sat in silence for a moment. The sun shone down through the tree they were parked beneath, light dappling the hood and windshield brilliantly. Olivia stopped thinking, let herself be mesmerized by the shifting patterns of autumn shadows and light.

"So you and Kathy...talked..." Olivia prodded.

"Yeah. For the first time in months. Years. I just...opened up. I was a fucking geyser. I told her everything, things I should have told her when we were together. The job, the cases, the marriage. Us."

"Us."

"Yes, us. You and me. How much I counted on you. Cared about you. It was nothing she didn't know already, but hearing me say it validated it for her. It helped her...come to some understanding or peace about it. Shit. I don't know. But we connected for the first time in so long. And you know what?"

"What?"

"It felt good. It felt right. I felt...light. Like all that stuff I'd been shoving deep down and trying to ignore for so long was gone. And Kathy listened. And she talked. And I listened, really listened. And understood some things. And...I took her home and--"

"No. Don't. Please." Olivia didn't want to hear anymore.

"We went out again, a couple of nights later," Elliot plowed on, knowing he'd lose his nerve if he stopped. "And kept talking. Like we'd never been apart. No," he corrected himself, "better than before we were apart. And you. Were. Gone."

Is he just trying to hurt me now? Does he want me to start bawling like an idiot or something? Olivia shook her head, rubbed her temples. A terrible headache was building there, something that no painkillers would fix.

"And then, I walk into the station one morning and Cragen calls me into his office." Elliot's voice was rising, his cheeks flushing. "What do you think he told me? What happy news do you think he wanted to share with me?"

"Elliot..."

"Olivia Benson was coming back. She was coming back and being assigned to me. As my partner. Again." He was practically yelling now. "You ripped out my heart and took it with you the first time you left, Liv. Were you coming back just to throw it in my face?"

Olivia took a steadying breath. And another.

"Elliot, when I left, I did it with the best intentions. You have to believe that. Those things you said to me, when you said...about us not being able to be partners if we were going to choose each other over the job. How did you think that was going to make me feel?"

Olivia wasn't even angry. Just tired. Exhausted. It seemed utterly pointless to talk about this, but she supposed they had to. Just to say they'd tried.

"I don't know!" Elliot slammed his hands down on the steering wheel, letting loose a deafening honk. Passersby started and turned. "I don't know. But not that. Not that."

"And when I came back, you and Kathy..." She certainly wanted to torture herself today.

"We'd already decided to...try again. See what...happened. But I didn't move in until a couple of nights ago. We're telling the kids tonight."

"Are you...what, getting back together permanently? Are you going to renew your vows or take a second Honeymoon? What?" Again with the bitterness.

Elliot reached out and grabbed her hand. She tried to pull it away but he wouldn't let her. He put his other hand on her chin and gently turned her face to his. She stared at him, his eyes, his mouth, his face. She wanted so badly to kiss him. Or hit him. Goddamn him. Her heart hurt. She didn't want him to see her crying.

"I don't know," he said quietly and honestly. "Liv...I'm sorry."

"For what, El? Sorry that you didn't tell me earlier, or sorry that you're trying to put your family back together? Because neither of those options really makes me feel any better. Your children need you and I guess you wife has realized she needs you too." And who am I? Who am I, really, to Elliot Stabler?

She pulled free of his grip and wiped viciously at her eyes, willing no more tears to fall.

"Liv--"

"Look, that's Stevenson," Olivia cut in brutally. "While we were sitting here hashing out our relationship, we almost missed collaring a dangerous sex offender." She pulled on the door handle, galvanized into action.

"Thanks for the talk, Elliot, but I think we've made it pretty clear we can't choose each other over this job anymore."

"I'm here and I bring reinforcements." ADA Casey Novak slammed two large mugs of beer down on the table and slid into the booth across from Olivia. Before she'd even shouldered off her coat, Olivia had grabbed hers and gulped back half. "Hey, hey...go easy there," Casey laughed, somewhat uneasily.

Olivia slumped against the seat, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Scenes from the Day from Hell replayed mercilessly in her head and right now the only relief in sight was the brown beverage on the table.

"Oh, Casey," she groaned, rubbing her hands over her face.

"I know, I heard." Casey took a sip of her beer and regarded the woman seated across from her compassionately. Who hadn't heard by now?

"Why did I think coming back to this job was a good idea?" Olivia took another long drink and then a deep breath. "Please talk me out of staying."

"Olivia..." Casey, rarely at a loss for words, honestly didn't know what to say. She also didn't have enough information to make an informed decision about what was best for Olivia Benson. Was Olivia so distressed about Elliot's reconciliation with Kathy because the two partners had been having an affair? That rumour had certainly made its rounds often enough over the years, but Casey didn't know Olivia well enough to ask her outright. Perhaps the detective was only hurting because Elliot hadn't told her personally. Casey regarded the mysterious woman sitting across from her and wondered if anyone knew her, really knew her. Olivia drained her glass and looked around for a waitress.

"Why don't you let me order you some dinner, 'kay? Have you had anything to eat today?" Casey wavered between concern and amusement at Olivia's attempt to flag down one of the women running tables in the busy bar. She knew some of the guys would be arriving soon and she didn't want, well, an alcohol-infused scene.

"My stomach feels like I've swallowed glass, Case," Olivia finally succeeded in snagging a waitress and ordered two more beers. "Do you have any idea how...horrendous today was?"

"No. I really don't, I'm afraid," Casey took another sip and watched her friend. Well, workmate was a more accurate description. She would have liked to call Olivia Benson a friend, but their relationship was pretty much relegated to work and this bar. She wondered suddenly who in her life Olivia was close to. Did she have any female friends? Was Elliot the only person she really talked to? If so, it was no wonder she was so upset.

The beers arrived and Olivia began to make short work of her drink. Casey simply continued to watch her and waited for her to talk. She knew the alcohol would eventually release the truth. And it did.

"He's going back to Kathy," she said quietly. "I don't even know why I'm upset, really. He's my partner. My friend. We're not a couple, you know." She looked Casey directly in the eye when she said that and Casey was startled by the intensity she found there. And the depths of sadness. "His kids...his kids will be thrilled, you know? They really will. And Elliot. Well, I think it will be good for him. Truly. He needs...he needs a home." He needs something I can't give him, obviously, she thought.

"But..." Casey prodded gently. "Look, that's all very noble, Olivia, but I sense it's not what's in your heart." She leaned over the table, let her hand rest on Olivia's for just a moment. "It's OK to feel...whatever you may be feeling. They're just feelings. They won't hurt anyone."

Oh, if you only knew, Olivia thought bitterly. The love she felt for Elliot Stabler was definitely hurting her. It was slowly fucking killing her. And the pain in her heart that had been threatening to suffocate her since Munch had sprung the news on her that morning had not abated one bit with the quick consumption of alcohol.

"Do you love him?" Casey asked quietly. Again the flash of those luminous brown eyes. Olivia Benson was very good at masking her pain, but Casey caught glimpses of it now and then and its magnitude took her breath away.

"Of course I do," she said lightly, not willing to give any more away. "He's my partner. My friend."

Casey sat back and rolled her eyes. "Please. I heard that line already. I didn't believe it the first time."

Olivia grinned. "I need more beer. How 'bout you?" Casey pointed to her glasses, one still full. "You have some catching up to do, Casey." With that she was gone and Casey felt an immediate dip in energy at the table, like a switch turned off. It wasn't a pleasant feeling. Something was missing. God, is that what Elliot Stabler had to endure every day? No wonder he was running back to his wife. To save his soul.

And speaking of the man, there he was now, making his way determinedly across the bar followed by Fin and Munch. Casey nodded and smiled and moved over to make room. Elliot slid in next to her and Casey was immediately aware of his presence, his maleness. There was a solidity there, a safeness, but also imminent danger. It was amazing how quickly a pretty, young waitress appeared at the table to take drink orders and Munch ordered a round for everyone.

"Where's Olivia?" Elliot asked casually, thought Casey could hear the interest in his voice, tinged with, what? Concern? When she didn't answer quickly enough he turned to her. God, he had beautiful eyes. He pinned her to the wall with his gaze and Casey had to think for a minute. Olivia who?

"She, uh, went for more drinks."

"More? How many has she had?" Elliot's eyes narrowed and he quickly surveyed the busy room. Casey almost pitied Olivia. When she got back she was in for an inquisition.

"So what have you two ladies been chatting about?" Munch eyed Casey. "And please don't spring any surprises on me. My old ticker just couldn't take any more today."

"Ha, ha." Elliot said dryly. "I think it's about time we dropped that subject, don't you?"

"Hey, man," Munch held up his hands in a conciliatory manner. "It's a happy, happy day. It's a happy surprising day." Drinks arrived. "A toast, everyone. To family."

"I'll drink to that," Olivia appeared, two more beers in hand, her cheeks flushed. She slid in next to Elliot and clinked her mug with his bottle. "To family." She drank deeply. "Here, Case." She slid another beer over, then realized Casey was still working on her first. "Oops. I'll just take that back, then." She leaned across Elliot, pushing him back against the seat. Her hair brushed his cheek as she grabbed the beer and Casey could have sworn he closed his eyes and breathed in her scent. In that moment Casey was sure she would never affect a man the way Olivia Benson affected Elliot Stabler. And she envied her for it as much as she knew how much pain it caused her.

"Did I miss anything?" she inquired cheerfully, her words only slightly slurred. Casey was sure Elliot, as highly attuned to Olivia as he was, picked up on it. "Any pregnancies? Hirings or firings?" She turned directly to Elliot, her eyes bright. "You." She jabbed his chest with her forefinger. "You're still getting back together with your wife, right?"

"Oh, jeez." Fin sighed and Casey dropped her head into her hand. Munch grinned, clearly enjoying the show, but Elliot just glared. If looks could kill, thought Casey.

"Relax, El," Olivia pressed her hand against his chest. "Lighten up. Have a drink!" She drained half her glass before Elliot pried it from her hand.

"Liv-"

"God, Elliot! I'm just trying to have a good time here. I think I deserve it after the day's events, don't you?" Her cheeks were thoroughly flushed now, her hair tousled and the top three buttons of her blouse undone. Casey had never seen a woman look more desirable. And the effect was not lost on the men at the table, especially Elliot. But he seemed more distressed at his partner's apparent reckless desire to drown her sorrows.

"Can I take you home now, please?" he asked quietly.

"Whose home? Mine or yours?"

Elliot grinned then, baring his teeth like a predator, and scraped his hand along the back of his neck. "Do you really wanna get into this here? Now? With you drunk?"

"Oh, jeez," Fin said again. Munch just continued to watch and smile and Casey had to admit she was mesmerized by the electrical charge coming off these two. Their energy was palpable.

If Elliot's stinging accusation had hurt her, Olivia didn't dare show it. Casey's admiration for the woman ratcheted up a few notches.

"Well, that's just the problem, Elliot," Olivia took another drink. "I'm not nearly drunk enough to discuss anything with you. Yet. Give me about half an hour, 'kay?"

"Olivia. Enough." Elliot, his teeth gritted, sounded like a stern father now, and Olivia responded like a spoiled teenager.

"It is enough, El. It's enough. You don't tell me what to do, or how much to drink, 'kay?" She swallowed the last of her beer and went to start her fourth when she rounded on him. "What are you doing here, anyway? Isn't tonight the Big Night? Aren't you gathering all the little Stablers around to tell them the Good News? Isn't your wife going to be wondering where you are? You're back on the leash, you know. Can't wander too far."

"Olivia!" Casey hissed from the corner. But Olivia waved at her dismissively.

"Home sounds like a great idea, Elliot. Go. Home." The two of them glowered at each other and for a moment Casey had the strange sensation no one else in the bar, in the world for that matter, actually existed. She had to squeeze her arm to make sure she was still there. At that moment the partners could easily have kissed or slugged each other and Casey wouldn't have batted an eye. Finally, Elliot caved.

"OK, Liv. You wanna play it this way? You win." He finished his beer and pulled on his coat. "You're gonna have to move out of my way, though."

Olivia's entire body coiled with anger and...what else? Frustration leapt to Casey's mind. Fear? Agony.

"Casey, make sure she gets home all right, 'kay?" he said smoothly to the woman behind him without breaking eye contact with Olivia.

"Sure thing," Casey said, eager to pacify.

"See you guys tomorrow," he said to Fin and Munch. Finally Olivia slid out of the booth and stood up. She backed up just enough to let Elliot out and when he stood, their bodies were mere inches apart, their gaze still unbroken. Then Olivia's knees buckled and she started to fall. She grabbed for the edge of the table, but Elliot already had her. He caught her around the waist easily and under the elbow, his face etched with intense concern and...what else? Fear? Agony. Casey couldn't remember the last time she felt this...alive.

Olivia's dizzy spell passed and when she realized who was holding her, she shook him off impatiently. Elliot held his hands up and retreated, his face a mask. He waited until she was sitting again, however, before he made his exit.

"Later," he threw over his shoulder, and was gone.

No one said a thing for several awkward moments.

"Well, that was a bit of a buzz kill," Olivia declared. Munch burst out laughing, and Fin joined in. Olivia held up her beer. "To asshole male partners who keep forgetting to tell their female partners really important things that, like, affect their female partners a lot."

"Cheers!" Munch yelled and they all drank. Casey laughed along with the others, but after what she'd just witnessed any sage advice she might have had for Olivia Benson had just evaporated in the wake of Elliot's abrupt departure.

Olivia awoke with a start, her heart pounding like a sledgehammer, her mouth dry as dust. Where am I? she thought, trying to orient herself. She gripped her throbbing head, trying to quell the sickly dizziness and then she remembered - the bar.

Oh God, what did I say? What did I do? She sat up, tangled hopelessly in the bedsheets, still dressed in her work clothes, minus shoes.Thank-you Casey. She peered at the bedside clock: the blood-red numbers read 2:14 a.m. She sat for a moment, waiting for her abused stomach to let her know what it had planned. She didn't have to wait long before she had an answer. She leapt from the bed and made it to the bathroom. Barely. She was splashing cold water on her face when she heard it - a faint knock at her door. There was only one person that could be. She studied herself in the mirror. Rumpled, stained shirt, untucked and mostly unbuttoned. Dark, disheveled hair. Bloodshot eyes. Face pale and strained. Lovely, just lovely. She sighed, knowing he wouldn't leave and if he did, he'd keep calling until she answered. She might as well get it over with now, whatever it was.

She opened the door just enough to see his face, and surprisingly, he didn't look angry. He looked relieved that she was up and mobile. He looked concerned. He looked sad. He looked dead tired.

"Hey," he said quietly. "You OK?"

"As well as can be expected," Olivia managed to crack a smile. Elliot studied her, his blue eyes somber. "You, uh, wanna come in?" She unchained the door and swung it open. Still, he stood there, uncertain.

"I was just worried, Liv, y'know?" he looked down at the floor, at his feet, back up at her. He was wearing a faded blue sweatshirt and jeans and he'd never looked sexier. "That was a little out of character for you."

"Yeah," she sighed, still holding the door open. "I know. I'm fine, really. I just needed to blow off a little steam. And now I'm paying for it."

"I'm...I'm gonna go, 'kay?" Elliot gripped the back of his neck. "I just...I...hell. I don't know what I'm doing here." He shook his head angrily and looked at her. His piercing blue gaze took her breath away.

"You can come in. If you want. I mean..." Olivia faltered. "Isn't Kathy going to wonder where you are?" Saying her name sent a stabbing pain through Olivia's heart, knowing she was now firmly entrenched in Elliot's life again.

Elliot rubbed his eyes and Olivia saw again how exhausted he looked. Worn out. How could she have missed that? The truth was she had missed so much. As attuned as she was to Elliot and his moods, she had been more involved in her own pain and heartache of late to notice what he had been enduring. When she saw him still hesitating, she reached down and gently took his hand. He actually flinched at her touch. Has it been that long since I've touched you, in any way, friendly or otherwise? she thought. He clutched at her hand almost painfully and she pulled him inside, closing the door behind him. The living room was dark save for a dim glow from the streetlight outside. They sat on the couch in the darkness, still holding hands.

"Did you tell the kids?" Olivia asked quietly. He nodded once and that was all. Olivia, full of questions, burning with the desire to know how they took the news, bit her tongue. Why torture yourself? she thought. Why add fuel to your already blazing fire? Surely his children had been nothing less than thrilled, amazed, joyful, to learn their parents were making amends. What child of separation or divorce didn't dream of that?

"You know what's fucked up?" Elliot said suddenly. "What's fucked up is that when Kathy asked me if I wanted to...try again...try putting our family back together...I couldn't answer her right away. I had to think about it."

Olivia said nothing, content to sit in the darkness of her living room, holding Elliot's hand. She felt heavy, her head, her eyes, her body. Tiredness was washing over her in waves and she didn't really want to think about anything. She leaned back against the couch, her legs tucked up under her. She smelled like beer and smoke. She wanted a shower and pajamas. She wanted Elliot to curl up with her in bed. She wanted to wrap her arms around his strength and solidness and breathe him in until sleep overtook them both. Everything else was just too complicated.

"I had to think about it because I was thinking about you, Liv. I was thinking about you and me and what we have here, what we've been building up between us for the past seven years. I was thinking, what if there is something there besides friendship, partnership? What if...what if..." he couldn't finish and he shook his head again in frustration. Olivia could hear unshed tears in his voice and she leaned over, slid her arm across his hard chest, squeezed him tight. Elliot responded immediately, clutching her to him, pulling her onto his lap. Olivia straddled his legs, dropping her head onto his shoulder, her face pressed against her neck. He smelled like beer and laundry and aftershave. She closed her eyes, letting tears burn and fall. His arms moved against her back, hands open, palms pressed flat. He slid one hand up the back of her neck, into her hair, gripping her head tightly. "Liv," he breathed. "Olivia." She shook her head against his neck, not trusting her voice. Still her tears fell, wetting the collar of his sweatshirt. He rocked her gently, rubbing her back, her head.

"Why are you crying?" he said quietly.

"Too many reasons," she whispered. "I don't even know. Yes, I do. I miss you. I'm sorry. I want both of us to be happy. I want both of us to be happy together. I don't want this to end. Us. Here. Like this. And I feel like it's ending. It's changing. Again." She pressed herself more tightly into him, hoping, hoping she'd somehow meld into his body, disappear inside him, stop the pain so deep in her heart. Elliot, too, seemed to sense this longing and hugged her so tightly to him she couldn't draw a breath for a moment. And she didn't care.

Finally she pulled back, away, wiped the tears from her cheeks, looked down at him. He ran his hands down her arms, gripped both her hands in his. He lifted her hands to his face, pressed his lips to her fingers, sending shivers down Olivia's back. She pulled her hands free, placing them on each side of his face tenderly. Before she could think too much about what she was doing, she leaned down, placing her lips gently, sweetly, against his. His lips moved beneath hers ever so slightly.

If this is the only kiss we ever share, it is perfect, thought Olivia.

And like everything else in their relationship, the kiss, too, ended. Olivia sat back, Elliot sat up, moved to kiss her again but Olivia shook her head.

"I don't want to be a one-night stand, El," she said, very quietly. "Not with you. I don't want to be the woman you think about fondly for the next 20 years of your marriage."

"You could never be that woman," Elliot said.

"I already am. And I hate it."

"Liv-"

Olivia pushed off his lap, suddenly sad and angry, unreasonably so. She wanted to be alone. "You should go home, Elliot. Kathy's going to be wondering, and I won't be a homewrecker. I won't be your homewrecker." She turned and walked to her bedroom, whipped her blouse off, her bra. She wanted sleep. She reached for her T-shirt

"Olivia." Elliot was there, behind her, standing in her bedroom doorway, framed by the light behind him. She could feel his brilliant blue eyes on her, on her body. She turned slowly to face him, without bothering to cover herself. They faced each other, Olivia brazen and vulnerable, Elliot amazed and moved.

"My God, you're beautiful, Liv," he murmured. Olivia took a deep, shuddering breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them, he was gone. She yanked on her T-shirt and hurried out to the front door. Elliot was fumbling with the doorknob, obviously flustered.

"I guess this means our date is off," Olivia said snidely, without meaning to. God, this man had the ability to wrench emotions out of her she didn't know existed. Elliot stopped short, puzzled. "The Policeman's Ball? Next month."

"Oh, shit, Liv. I'm sorr-"

"No, no." Olivia cut him off. "No more being sorry, 'kay? We've both made our choices, for better or worse, and now we need to live with them. Like grownups."

Elliot dragged his hands down his face, shook his head, laughed without a trace of humour. "I should be happy, shouldn't I?"

"Yeah, Elliot. You're getting something so many people would die for...would kill for. You're getting a second chance. You should be very happy." Olivia wrapped her arms around herself, trying to find some comfort in an embrace. "Aren't you? Happy?"

Elliot stepped back into the hallway, into the shadows, away from her and her prying questions. She saw him shake his head, as if to clear it.

"Good night, Olivia." And then he was gone. She stood in her doorway, unshed tears in her eyes, in the back of her throat, in her soul. Finally, when she realized he really wasn't coming back, she closed the door, and locked it.

Good-bye, Elliot.

"Hot date tonight, Olivia?" John Munch queried casually as he sauntered by. Olivia, a compact mirror held up close to her face, raised one dark eyebrow and smirked.

"I have something in my eye. And, as a matter of fact, yes." She snapped the compact shut and realized Elliot was watching her intently. "What?"

"Hot date, huh? With who?" His tone was teasing, but there was a serious undercurrent and he was smiling, but only just.

"No one you know, Stabler." Olivia grinned, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"Oh, yeah? Try me." Elliot leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped behind his head. God, those eyes. Why the hell does he have to stare at me like that?

Olivia felt a blush creeping up her neck and willed it to stop before it reached her cheeks. "Casey set us up, if you really have to know."

"I really do. First date?"

"Geez, what is this, an inquisition? I feel like one of your perps." Olivia leaned her head to one side, smiling lightly. The mood, however, was anything but light. Elliot's gaze had not left her face and she could see he wasn't going to back down until he was satisfied. She sighed. "No, Elliot. This is not our first date."

"Oh?" Elliot simply continued to stare. Olivia stared back. Her heart thudded against her ribs. So, this is what it's come to between us, she thought. A Goddamn contest of wills. Who will give first? Who's the most stubborn?

"It's our fourth, OK?" She was almost sorry she'd answered. Almost. Elliot's face fell and he dropped his hands and his eyes, mumbling something unintelligible.

"I didn't quite hear that," Olivia said, leaning forward.

"I said," Elliot cleared his throat, "I didn't know Casey had it in her."

"Had what in her?"

"The ability to be a ... matchmaker. Whatever you girls... women call it. I didn't think she knew you that well. You know, to set you up with someone and have it work out that well. Well enough to make it to the fourth date, I mean."

He stopped suddenly, aware of his babbling. The two of them stared at each other, each daring the other to name the unnameable. Now he was blushing and Olivia had to physically restrain herself from leaning over to touch his reddened cheek, caress it, tell him it was OK, everything was going to be OK for them. Because she honestly didn't know if it would be. Then the moment passed, as all their moments did, stolen moments, tucked away like tiny folded pieces of paper shoved deep into pockets, safe, never quite forgotten.

And that was how it went now. Since that night in Olivia's apartment with the one tender stolen kiss, they had fallen into the steady, dependable routine of Just Partners again. Comfortable. Safe. Friendly. They rarely went out anymore, after work, either alone together or with the others. Now that Elliot was working on reconnecting with Kathy and his kids, Olivia felt she had to back off, give him as much space, breathing room, as possible. If he resented her distance, he said nothing about it, which made her think he actually appreciated it. He didn't talk about what was going on at home and she didn't ask, but gone was the Elliot of old, the post-Kathy-leaving-divorce-threat Elliot, the anger, bitter, unstable Elliot. This Elliot was quieter, gentler, more at ease with everyone around him. He treated Olivia almost reverently, as if he realized how close he had come to losing her forever, how grateful he was that she'd returned to his life. More than once she caught him laughing, long and loud, at some stupid joke Munch felt compelled to inflict on everyone. He seemed almost ... happy. And Olivia should have felt happy for his happiness. But she didn't. The more settled and content Elliot became, the more depressed and lost she felt.

She did her job and she did it well. She helped people. She helped children. She had a few friends, women she called from time to time for coffee or a dinner date. She hung out with Casey after work and sometimes they talked shop and sometimes they talked men. Casey was seeing someone very casually and, after a few drinks, she spared no sordid detail about the sex. Olivia had no such stories to share with Casey, unless she dug deep into the past. Too deep, she realized one night, late, after four or five beers at Whiskey Jack's, a tall, dark-haired man sliding into their booth, leaning over Olivia, smelling of clean sweat and aftershave, laughing at her jokes and making her laugh out loud at his. Casey watched appreciatively, keeping an eye on her more than slightly drunk friend. When things started to get out of hand, with the uninvited guest copping more than a few feels, she dragged Olivia out, shoved her in a cab, and took her home.

"Oh, I need to get laid, Case," Olivia groaned as the two maneuvered their way from the elevator to Olivia's apartment.

"No kidding," Casey wrestled Olivia's keys out of her pocket and managed to unlock the door, despite the three drinks she herself had consumed on an empty stomach. She helped the older woman shrug off her coat, her shoes, and got her into a semi-comfortable position on the couch. "This is feeling a bit too much like deja-vu for me."

Olivia stretched out on the couch, burying her head in a throw pillow, remembering suddenly the last time Elliot had been here, ages ago, when she'd held him, straddled him, kissed him. Tears burned behind her eyelids. She pushed her face in the pillow, hard. She wondered what he was doing right now. Watching TV? Sleeping? Making love to Kathy? She groaned again. Casey, in the kitchen, laughed.

"What, or who are you thinking about?" she called.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Olivia called back.

"Sweetie...I'm a lawyer, remember? It's my job to believe crazy stories." Casey shoved Olivia's feet down and curled up in the corner of the couch. She handed her a glass of water, which Olivia gratefully downed. "How's it going with David, anyway? You two have had more than the requisite number of dates to qualify for some hot sex."

"David's fine. He's good. He's...nice." Olivia stared down into the empty glass.

"But..."

"I..."

"You haven't jumped him yet."

"No."

"I can't believe he hasn't tried to put the moves on you."

"We've kissed, OK? And yes, he has suggested, strongly, that we move towards a more horizontal position."

"But..."

"He's..." Olivia shrugged, still staring into the glass.

"He's not Elliot." Casey knew she was taking a chance even bringing up Elliot's name, but she was getting more than a little frustrated with this woman sitting beside her. She'd set Olivia up with David Wolfe weeks ago, after Olivia had confided in her, one beer-soaked evening, about the Kiss and its aftermath. David was an old friend of hers, kind, intelligent, a doctor for pity's sake. Granted, he was divorced, with an angry ex-wife and two kids, but he was a good guy. Olivia deserved a good guy. Didn't she?

"No." Olivia finally put the glass down and met Casey's penetrating stare head on. "He's not. But, you know what? That's not necessarily a bad thing. He treats me well. He's got a good heart."

"Who are you trying to convince, me, or you?" Casey smirked, unfolded her legs and stood up. "Look, I set the two of you up because I thought, I think, you could use a break. A break from the insanity that is Elliot Stabler. You're...you're my friend, Olivia, OK? I don't like to see my friends hurting. And I've seen you hurting for too long, now."

Olivia nodded, rubbed her temples with her fingertips. "I know Casey. I know. You've been a good friend to me. I don't have many, and I definitely count you as one. And I appreciate what you've done. I like David. I just don't know if I can ever...love him."

"Give him a chance, all right? Give yourself a chance." Casey paused, wondering if she had license to proceed with her potentially risky line of argument. "Just don't confuse infatuation with love."

Olivia looked up then, her mouth agape. Uh oh, thought Casey. I've gone too far.

"If you think I'm infatuated with Elliot, you don't know me as well as you seem to think you do. You think what I feel is temporary? That it's irrational? I've never, ever in my life had feelings for anyone like I do for him." Olivia's voice was shaking with emotion, her hands coiled into tight fists in her lap. Casey sat down again, took one of Olivia's clenched hands in her own.

Might as well dive in now, Casey thought. "Temporary, no, but irrational...yes. I'm not questioning your feelings. I'm questioning, as a friend should, what those feelings are doing to you. That's all. If Elliot is incapable of reciprocating, and it seems as if he is right now, I think it would be healthier for both of you if you...moved on."

Olivia's eyes blazed with intense anger while she listened to Casey talk, but two tears that tracked slowly down her cheeks suddenly extinguished the fire. She made no move to wipe them away.

"I wish I could, Case. You have no idea how badly I wish that."

Two days later Olivia brought David Wolfe home to her apartment after a nice dinner with pleasant conversation and some laughs, and fucked him. Twice. This isn't making love, she told herself as he pounded away at her for the second time. There is no love here. It's not just sex, because there is definitely some passion, at least on his part. This, she decided, as he brought her to orgasm, finally, and came with a shout himself, is fucking. Pure and simple. Two lonely, rather lost adults who have reached out to make a connection, realizing their lives have spiraled out of control and fucking a virtual stranger is preferable to spending another evening in front of the television with popcorn and a couple of beers.

David rolled away, panting, lay his arm across his forehead. Olivia pulled the sheet up over her bare breasts and glanced over at him in the near darkness. He was a handsome man, in a rugged-verging-on-haggard kind of way. Many women would probably find him extremely good-looking, and the Dr. in front of his name would only add to his attractiveness. He was fit, dressed nicely, read the newspaper and some books. He didn't smoke. He loved his kids, spent as much time with them as a busy family doctor could. He was, in short, everything a single, professional woman in her early 40s could want. Why then, she wondered, don't I give a shit about whether he calls me ever again after he leaves my bed?

"My God, Olivia," he finally managed to choke out. "I really needed that. You have no idea." He reached over and took her hand. She let him. Within minutes he was asleep. She pulled her hand away, rolled as far as she could to her side of the bed, pulled her knees up to her chest, and stared into the darkness. What she couldn't figure out is why, on top of everything else, she felt like she'd just cheated on Elliot.

"How's...whatsisname again? Kevin?" Elliot inquired loudly the next morning. They were en route to the courthouse and the interior of the car was taut with unspoken discussions and accusations. Elliot had kept his distance since he'd pinned her down on her dating life, but there was a strange sort of vibe emanating from her this morning and he felt compelled, as men often do, to pick a fight.

"David," Olivia said tiredly. She was not in the mood for a sparring match, but if provoked, she could easily go a few rounds with him. There was too much unsaid right now that could get said, fast.

"Ahhh, right. David. David." Elliot tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and sipped his coffee. "So, David treating you OK?"

"Magnificently." Olivia watched the early morning commuters out her window, wishing she was one of them, a nameless, faceless drone walking to some mind-numbing nine-to-five desk job with tiresome co-workers she didn't lust after.

"You guys go out last night?"

"Yep."

"Dinner?"

"You bet."

"And a movie, I hope?"

"Nope."

"Just dinner?" Elliot glanced over at her, but she wouldn't look his way. "What'd you do after?"

"Pardon?"

"What did you do after dinner? Go for a walk? Get coffee?"

"I took him back home and fucked him senseless for hours." She glared at him. "How's Kathy, by the way?"

Olivia remembered hearing the expression face like a thunder cloud as a child, but she'd never actually seen it in person. Until now.

"She's fine. Great," Elliot growled. "She was asking about you this morning, actually. Wanted to know how you were doing."

"Did she?" Olivia hardly recognized her voice for the biting sarcasm. "How nice of her. And what did you tell her?"

"I said...I said you were doing OK. That you were...seeing someone." Elliot turned his attention back to the road, and she couldn't see his eyes anymore. "She was happy for you."

"I bet." Will this car ride never end? Olivia wrapped her arms around herself and took a deep breath. This was not the person she wanted to be.

The silence lasted much longer this time. Olivia could feel it, pricking at the back of her neck, she could taste its iciness on the tip of her tongue.

"Are you? Sleeping with him?" he said, so quietly she wondered if she'd imagined it.

"Do you really want to know?" she replied. He shook his head, smiled.

"Forget it. You just answered my question."

"Are you sleeping with Kathy?" Why am I doing this to myself? she groaned inwardly.

He shrugged, one-shouldered, sighed, defeated. "She's my wife, Liv."

Like that explained anything. And everything.

They reached the courthouse and Elliot parked. They sat in silence, listening to the muffled sounds of the city, of life going on, around them. Then Elliot was reaching for her, pulling her to him with his strong arms, enfolding her. Her head nestled too easily in the warm space between his head and shoulder. She let her arms hold onto him, grip him, for a moment, her fingers digging into his jacket, her thoughts racing, racing, into one, final, coherent thought: This, right here, isn't enough. This isn't enough for me.

She pulled away then, adjusted her coat, smoothed her hair with hands that trembled. She could sense, more than see, Elliot's despair, his disappointment, his hurt. She didn't care. She couldn't let herself care. She didn't know if she could be just his friend anymore. Just his partner, anymore.

"Olivia-" he began, reaching out for her again. His hand stopped in mid-air, hovering inches from her sleeve.

"Let's go," she countered briskly, flashing him one her brilliant, but empty, smiles. "We've got work to do."

The banquet hall was shimmering.

Olivia could think of no better description on the night of the annual Policeman's Ball than shimmering. It was late-November; Fall, her favourite season, was dying a quick, chilly death and a hint of Christmas was in the frosty air. The thought of facing another holiday season without family, with Elliot and Kathy together, filled Olivia with such a feeling of desolation it nearly took her breath away.

"Hey gorgeous," David squeezed her hand, gently touched her cheek with his fingers as they approached the hall's main entrance. "What are you thinking about?"

"How happy I am to be here, with you," Olivia quickly replied, a smile pasted on her face. It amazed her how easily the lie slipped past her reddened lips. What she really wanted to say was how she wished it were Elliot holding her hand, touching her face, calling her gorgeous. What she really wanted to do was pull her hand loose, turn and flee, make her way back home to the safety and sanctuary of her apartment, her bed, the warm embrace of darkness.

But, she was here, with her boyfriend, as Casey was inclined to call him now, teasing, but only just. And Olivia had to admit, grudgingly, that David Wolfe was her boyfriend. They saw each other whenever Olivia's schedule permitted; he slept over at least once a week. He left cute messages on her machine: Hey, it's me. Just wanted to say I'm thinking about you. And I miss you! He called her cell just to see how her day was going. She'd met his kids numerous times, two boys aged eight and six. Cute, confused, angry. They'd all gone to the park, to dinner, hung out at David's home. The sex was...there. It was fine. He liked to cuddle when it was over and he always asked if she'd "finished," if it had been good. And she always lied.

What frightened her was that the one kiss she shared with Elliot had contained more passion, more life, more everything than all the nights of sex and orgasms with David.

What frightened her was that while she felt more and more distanced from David, she was acutely aware that he was falling more and more in love with her.

What frightened her was that she wasn't falling out of love with Elliot Stabler. At all.

"After you," David said grandly, holding open the heavy entrance door for her. It even smelled fancy. There were several affairs happening tonight. They located their hall, checked their coats at the front and walked in. Olivia was aware of her nervousness as much as she was aware of the appreciative glances she received from co-workers as the appropriately attractive couple entered the room. She was aware of the impression they made: She, tall and dark, clad in a simply elegant, low-cut deep red dress. He, tall and dark, clad in a well-cut, expensive suit. We look like we belong together, like we're happily in love, she realized, even though nothing was further from the truth.

"Drink?" he asked and she nodded gratefully, unable to speak just yet. The room was breathtaking, festooned with garlands, lights and flowers. It was filled to overflowing already with jovial members of the city's finest, everyone chatting, drinking and generally having a wonderful time.

"Olivia!" Casey emerged from the crowd to embrace her warmly and Olivia could smell the sweetness of alcohol on her breath. "You look stunning."

"Thanks. So do you," Olivia hugged her back lightly, grateful to have at least one "friend" by her side. She didn't feel stunning. She felt like an imposter, a fraud posing in a stunning body she'd rented for the evening. She felt exposed, in more ways than one. "Glen." She acknowledged Casey's date, a handsome attorney who Casey had been seeing for several months. She pressed her cheek to his, aware of the coolness of her skin against his warmth.

"Olivia," Glen pulled back, grinning, slid his arm comfortably around Casey's waist.

"Where's David?" Casey asked eagerly, sipping at a drink.

"Getting me one of those, I hope," Olivia said, pointing at the glass. She rubbed her arms with her hands. She couldn't seem to get rid of the November chill.

The two of them stood there then, staring at her, watching her.

"What?" Olivia asked, slightly annoyed.

"Nothing, nothing," Casey said, giggling.

"Good God...are you giggling?" asked Olivia. "Don't tell me you're drunk already."

"Nope. Not me. Just...happy," Casey squeezed Glen's arm and he grinned. Olivia shook her head. Finally David arrived with a glass of wine for each of them.

"C'mon...our table's over here," Casey beckoned and they followed her bobbing blonde head through the crowd to a quieter section of the hall. There were already several couples seated there; two Olivia didn't recognize. One she did.

"Look who we found! I think they were lost," Casey announced loudly to Table 15. "Hey, you two - break it up!" Kathy Stabler was whispering something in Elliot's ear. She jumped back nervously at the sound of Casey's voice.

"Evening," David said, pulling out Olivia's chair for her. She sank down, her knees suddenly weak, and downed a large gulp of wine. It burned her throat and finally some part of her body felt a little bit of heat.

"Evening," Elliot replied, looking at no one but Olivia.

"Hi Olivia," Kathy said with a warm but guarded smile. She had an odd combination of triumph and insecurity plastered across her attractive features. Yes, she had her man back where he belonged and still...still, there was Olivia.

"Hey," she replied weakly to the table centerpiece.

"Isn't this place lovely? Like something from a fairytale," Kathy said to no one in particular. Casey made a sound that resembled a snort, then covered it with a cough.

"I don't think we've met," Elliot said, glaring at David.

"No. No, we haven't," David replied, meeting the hostility head on. They hadn't met, but they had certainly heard of one another. David, to his credit, never asked too much about Olivia's partner, but he had heard plenty from Casey, been warned by Casey about the situation before they began dating. He knew, as a man does, that this tall, brooding, married man seated across the table was, in a strange way, his most serious competition, the biggest obstacle in the way to happiness with Olivia.

"David Wolfe," David said, extending his hand. It hovered there in mid-air for an uncomfortable amount of time before Elliot finally reached over and shook it tightly. "You must be Elliot."

"I must be," Elliot smiled without showing his teeth. Olivia had seen him smile like that at child molesters. "This is Kathy. My wife." There was the slightest hesitation before the qualifier, perhaps one that only Olivia caught. But, she had caught it.

"Very nice to meet you," Kathy shook David's hand warmly.

With all the territories neatly divided and protected, the table erupted in convivial small talk. Kathy immediately began chatting David up, asking him detailed questions about his practice, his patients, his children. Elliot said little, but Olivia could see he was hanging on every one of David's responses, eager for any bit of information about the man Olivia had been spending her nights with. Casey leaned over and squeezed Olivia's arm.

"You two look great tonight," she murmured. Olivia smiled, wishing Elliot would stop staring at her so pointedly. Surely Kathy, as possessive as she must be feeling, would pick up on it. But no one else seemed to notice how quiet both Elliot and Olivia were throughout the meal, which Olivia barely tasted, and later remembered nothing about.

With dishes cleared away and coffee being served, the emcee approached the mike, regaling the crowd with hilarious tales of the past year's triumphs, mishaps and inspirations. Finally, the band took over and dancing began.

It's almost over, Olivia thought gratefully, wanting nothing more than her bed and a semi-comatose state, as she watched Elliot and Kathy make their way to the dance floor, hand in hand. Her heart contracted painfully as she watched him slip his hand around her waist, pull her close, move with her. When she realized tears were imminent, she excused herself to the bathroom.

Thankfully, the room was almost empty and relatively quiet. Olivia locked herself in a stall and let the tears fall, just a couple, before she composed herself. God, this feels like a bad high school dance, she thought, and managed to bring a small smile to her lips. Maybe I should pass Casey a note to give to Kathy about how much I want Elliot to myself. Maybe I should challenge her to a hair-pulling match after gym class.

She patted her eyes and unlocked the door, to find Kathy Stabler at the mirror. Olivia sighed inwardly. Of course. She washed her hands, avoiding eye contact, hoping the woman wouldn't see her red-rimmed eyes.

"You look great tonight," Kathy said, without preamble.

"Thanks, Kathy. You do too," Olivia hoped her voice was calm, cheerful. "It's good to see you again."

"You, too," Kathy said, always so polite. "I really enjoyed meeting David. He's quite a catch."

Olivia only nodded. What does one say to that? Thank-you. I know. And, he's all mine! She was eager to leave the now claustrophobic room, but Kathy seemed determined to wrench some sort of conversation out of her.

"I wanted to thank you," she said earnestly, quietly. This caught Olivia completely off-guard and she stopped, stared. Kathy seemed almost vulnerable.

"For what?"

"Elliot said...he said you've been...supportive of our decision to...try to, uh, repair our relationship, our marriage," she floundered and Olivia almost felt sorry for her. Almost. "He said, he said...you've been, um...very supportive."

Olivia wondered what words Elliot had actually used to describe her behaviour, but she supposed supportive would have to do. Distant? Angry? Dismayed?

"I am supportive, Kathy. I'm...happy for you guys. Really. It's...good for Elliot, you know, to have you all back in his life..." Stop talking now, she warned herself. Tears bubbled just beneath the surface, making her voice sound thick.

"That means a lot to me, to him." Kathy clasped her well-manicured hands in front of her, clutching her small purse tightly. "The kids are, well, I haven't seen them this...They're so happy. We all are. I...well, thanks. Really." And she was gone.

Olivia closed her eyes and smiled at the absurdity of it all. She tried to remember the days before she knew how much she loved Elliot, before she cared whether or not he touched her, looked at her, smiled at her. She could not.

Somehow she made her way back to the table, slid in next to David who immediately took her hand and pressed it, smiled at her. Elliot and Kathy were back on the dance floor and Casey was deep in discussion with Glen.

"Olivia," someone was saying. Someone was talking to her. Focus. It was David. Olivia turned to him, waited. "You know how much you mean to me. You know how close we've grown these past few months. I want you to know I've never felt this way about anyone else. I've never felt this deeply about anyone...ever."

Olivia heard the words but they did not register. What the hell was he going on about? She saw in her peripheral vision Casey and Glen stop talking and watch. They were both...smiling. Oh no. No, no, no, no, no.

"I've always considered myself a lucky man. When I met you, I know it was the luckiest day of my life."

To Olivia's utter horror, she saw David slip his hand into his pocket and remove a small, velvety black box. A jewellery box. Casey was positively beaming now. You are in so much shit, Olivia thought. David opened the box. Olivia saw the ring. She closed her eyes. She opened them. The ring was still there.

"Olivia. I want to give this to you. I want to marry you. You don't have to answer me right now. I don't want you to answer right now. I want you to think about it. Take all the time you need. I just...needed to show you how I feel about you. How much I want you to be a part of my life. Forever."

This is the absurdity that is my life, was all Olivia could manage to think. This is the insanity I've created for myself. She let David slide the ring on to her finger. She let him kiss her, long and deeply. She returned the kiss. She let Casey squeal and hug her. She let Glen kiss her cheek. The ring felt cold and odd and foreign on her finger. She felt like laughing. Poor, befuddled David. Poor man.

"Hey, what did we miss?" Kathy Stabler asked from behind them. She had Elliot by the arm. Elliot was watching the scene with narrowed, suspicious eyes.

"A proposal, of sorts," Casey said, and gave Olivia another little hug.

"Proposal?" Kathy said, her mouth agape. Elliot remained stone-faced, but his blue eyes snapped with disbelief and something else Olivia couldn't put her finger on. "You don't mean..."

"I've asked Olivia to marry me, when she's ready, that is," David said, a small tremor in his voice. He squeezed Olivia's hand painfully. Kathy squealed in that particular way women do when talk of marriage is in the air.

"Let me see!" she demanded, taking Olivia's clammy hand in her own warm one. "Oh, it's lovely."

Olivia only nodded. She looked up and met Elliot's gaze helplessly, in that moment conveying her absolute frustration and incredulity without uttering a single word. She didn't have to. Elliot could see it all so plainly in her face, even if no one else could.

David pulled her onto the dance floor then, led her to the music.

"Are you angry?" he asked, after several moments of somewhat strained silence between them. Olivia shook her head.

"Surprised," she said. "Surprised. Really, really surprised."

"You must think I'm crazy," he smiled.

"A little," she admitted, smiling. Insane, is more like it.

"I hope...I hope you will think about it. I hope you won't just...say no, now, without thinking..."

Olivia took a deep breath, about to say just that, when a familiar voice cut in.

"I hope you don't mind sharing your...fiancee...for one dance, anyway." It was Elliot, with Kathy close behind. His face was calm, almost serene, but Olivia knew better. She had seen this face before, before he beat the shit out of some perp.

"Of course not. If Olivia doesn't mind," David said, moving to take Kathy.

Then it was Olivia and Elliot.

For a moment he didn't touch her at all. He simply stood and stared at her, helpless. He shook his head. Then he drew her to him, slowly, one arm slipping effortlessly around her waist, the other taking her hand, enveloping it. For the first time that night, for the first time in weeks, Olivia felt warm again. Warm and safe and whole. She leaned into his solidity, let her head rest on his shoulder. She was suddenly sapped of strength, exhausted, tired of fighting. Elliot held her up, supported her. His hand gently and firmly pressed into her lower back, rubbing it. She could smell cologne and soap and skin. She heard him murmur her name, above and below the pulse of the music. There was no one else in the room.

"How's your evening?" he asked, and she laughed out loud, grateful for the release. People turned to look. David and Kathy's heads swiveled in perfect tandem, their faces cautiously curious.

"Interesting," she said.

"I bet."

"How's yours?"

"Good enough."

"Uh huh."

"So?" he asked lightly.

"What?"

"Did you give him an answer?"

"I was about to, when you so rudely interrupted," she laughed.

"You look...absolutely beautiful tonight, Liv. The most gorgeous woman in the room." She heard the catch in his low voice, and it brought tears to her eyes.

"Why do you have to say things like that?"

"Because. It's true."

"Elliot-"

"What were you going to tell him?"

"Why do you care?"

His hands clenched, tight on her back and hand, hurting her.

"I can't believe you would even ask that."

"I have to. I look at you and Kathy, your wife, and I have to Elliot. You have someone in your life. Why shouldn't I? You must understand that."

"I want you to be happy, Liv," he said.

"Do you?"

"Yes," he said quietly.

"How?" she whispered.

He didn't reply. He pulled her closer, put his face to her hair. He spoke softly, quickly, but with enormous intensity in each word, each syllable, each letter.

"I love you, you know. I want you to know that, 'kay? No matter what happens with me, with you. You. Need. To. Know."

She nodded, closed her eyes, dizzy, afraid to speak. Her fingers dug into his back, his hand.

"Elliot, I -" The music was ending, people were clapping. Kathy and David still chatted, but were moving inevitably towards them. Olivia smiled up at Elliot. She slipped the ring from her finger and palmed it. She pushed it into his hand, closed his fingers around it firmly. She pulled back from him, pulled away, putting space between them. His face fell, his eyes dimmed. She moved away, further, looking for the door.

"What?" he said, reaching for her helplessly.

"I...I have to go."

"Where?"

"There's something I have to do," she said. She saw David's face watching her, slightly bewildered, questioning. She saw Kathy slip her hand into Elliot's. Would she find the ring? She saw the flowers and lights and seemingly happy people, everything shimmering.

"Olivia, what?" Elliot took a step forward. She took a step away, looked for the door, the exit. She gave him her most brilliant, tear-filled, love-filled smile.

"Start living my life."