Title: Silence

Author: Alysza

Characters: Elliot Stabler, Olivia Benson

Shipping Pair: Close Friendship EO

Spoiler Severity: N/A

Summary: One last time, he studied her, trying to figure out her reasoning for being so different today, with her entire body covered in loose, casual clothing, and the passionate blaze for her work gone from her eyes.

Author's Note: Yeah, for those of you following me as an author, you're probably pissed that I haven't updated my other stories. My Red Dead Redemption Fic especially, and for those of you who don't know, my internet driver on my computer got deleted somehow. My brother broke my mouse, and, well, all the story updates are on that. So right now, my stories are going to be written on my parents computer. I will update as often as possible and I will start rewriting the RDR fic soon. Sorry guys. Also, if anyone is interested in helping me proofread my stories and giving me feedback before they are published, please contact me. I'm tired of grammar mistakes and realizing the glaring plot holes in my stories.

Enjoy.

Rain fell, splattering against the windows. What didn't ricochet away lingered on the glass, slowly sliding down. Fine mist came about from the shattering of drops into microscopic shards of water. The roof roared as rain pounded continuously against it.

While weather seemed melancholy, the morale of the people within the building was high. The day was only just beginning, but there was little work to be done. This was surprising to the detectives in the squad room. Usually, they were agitated, stressed, called in to work at an ungodly hour when a case took a undesirable twist. For the last week, however, things seemed to slow. Those who usually went sleepless were able to briefly subdue their insomnia for perhaps a good six hours of slumber.

John Munch, while usually a lighthearted older gentleman, was even more so today. He reached and pulled blank paper from his computer's printer and fiddled with it. After folding and creasing, he had created a paper airplane. Looking through his glasses, John set his sights on his partner, who was busy on the typewriter, as all the computers were occupied, typing his overdue DD5's for a couple of cases. John bit his lip and took careful aim. He drew back his arms a few times in mock throwing, before he finally let the projectile loose. It flew in a straight solid line to the forehead of an unsuspecting Fin Tutuola.

The other detective jumped, and looked around wildly for the source of the plane. Rather quickly, he identified his assailant as none other than his partner, John. Instead of making a scornful comment, he reached for the plane that had bounced off his skull onto the desk, and crumpled it into a pathetic heap. The paper slid off his palm into the trash. Fin shot a look at the sergeant, a look full of scorn and annoyance, but he quickly shrugged it off, deciding not to upset the peace within the squad room, even though his partner had already succeeded in doing so.

John hummed innocently, and reclined back into his chair. He let a few moments of silence ensue, before he reached again for a blank piece of paper, constructed a paper air plane, and again, took aim. Before he could launch his weapon, his partner's eyes snapped up and locked onto his owns.

"Don't even think about it." Fin growled, before returning his attention back to the paperwork before him.

John pursed his lips, twisted, and searched the room for someone with better humor. With a soft grunt, he shot the plane across the room at a different detective, but not shortly before he realized that the one he had fired the plane at, Elliot Stabler, was short a partner.

Elliot jumped and swatted at the back of his neck where the plane struck. He glanced down at the ground to see the plane lying on the floor, and turned in his chair to see John watching with amusement on his face.

"The hell, John?" Elliot hissed, picking up the plane and tossing it into the trash.

John threw his hands into the air. "Does no one have respect for my art around here?"

"What, your artistic ability to drive everyone around you insane?" Fin sneered. "Or your superb coffee preparation skills?"

"Hey, okay, it was Olivia who left the coffee open this time." John retorted. "Second of all-"

"Where is Olivia by the way?" Fin inquired, sniffing and balling his fists together. John seemed disheartened by their their lack of concern for his defensive antics and bitterly booted up his computer to sift through the news.

"No idea. I haven't seen her since last night when she was so excited for a date that she left the coffee lid open." John muttered, putting emphasis on the fact it was not him this time who had forgotten to seal the coffee container to keep it from losing its freshness.

"Give her a break. It's not everyday that she gets one with this job. With this week being this slow, I don't blame her for getting out. When was the last time your scrawny ass saw the limelight, anyway?" Fin jeered at John.

"For your information," John leaned forward onto his desk. "I met a lovely lady at Maloney's last night. She gave me her number, and I'm going out for dinner tonight."

"A real number this time?" Fin snorted.

John simply glared. Fin snickered, but Elliot had been quiet.

"I just hope she shows up before the Captain notices how late she is, regardless of how much fun she had last night."

"Already noticed," Donald stepped from his office, closing the door behind him. "Good morning, I see you've all made great headway into your work today."

John straightened up and cleared his throat and turned his attention to his computer screen. Fin mumbled a greeting to his captain and hunkered over the typewriter in hopes of finishing his paperwork before his superior noticed that it was supposed to be done yesterday. Elliot clasped his fists together and leaned onto his desk. Donald tucked his hands into his pockets and peered at his detective.

"I assume you were going to go over the Newman case to make sure our evidence is airtight for trial with your partner, but she doesn't seem to be here."

Elliot nodded. "That is what I had in mind."

"Any idea where she is?"

Elliot shrugged. "She had a date last night."

Donald sighed and ambled over to the coffee machine, pouring himself a cup. "Who made this?" He turned to his squad.

"I did. Don't worry, captain. Take a drink." Fin replied. Donald nodded his thanks and took a sip, then set down the mug onto the table.

"Well Elliot, I'll give her some leniency for now since it has been so loose all week. But if the pace picks up any faster than this, give her a call and make sure she comes in. Even so, she usually isn't late without giving us a heads up. Call and make sure everything is up to standard."

"Got it." Elliot reached for the phone, but as if on cue, Olivia strode in, clothes wet from the weather, and hastily took a seat.

Elliot slowly returned the phone to its base, and eyed his partner who was already getting into files and scanning over them. He took notice to the attention drawn to her, as Fin, John, and Donald were all watching with their breathes held. Elliot felt a small twinge of relief that he wasn't the only one who noticed something was off. Olivia, however, didn't take note of the eyes on her, and intently studied the files sprawled out over her desk. Elliot felt the questions that his colleagues wanted to ask in their watchful gazes. He nodded slowly, understanding, and they resumed their activities.

He turned back to his partner, observing her. She was dressed with a faded gray NYPD sweatshirt, with the hood pulled up over her head. Her hair was not as neat as usual, and her makeup was thicker than most days. The jeans around her legs were loose, and her shoes were worn out tennis shoes. Elliot waited, hoping Olivia would see that he was watching and comment, but she was stone still. Elliot cleared his throat and still, she didn't react. Something was off about her for sure –she often didn't wear casual attire to work. The stillness of her figure was also off-putting. Usually, she would have gotten coffee and asked if there was anything to work on, but she had simply immersed herself in files that were unrelated to anything they were working on.

"Rough night?" Elliot shattered the silence with those two words.

Olivia didn't reply. She fingered through the files in front of her. Finally, she spoke. "Yeah." Her voice came softly, with a lack of strength that usually backed her bold words.

Elliot shifted uncomfortably. "What are you looking at?"

"Files."

"Uh, I know that. But why, are you looking at files-" Elliot leaned forward and snagged a file. He tried to slide it towards him, but Olivia slammed her palm against the folder and dragged it back towards her. "-that are unrelated to any case we're working on?"

"Cold case." Olivia huffed. Elliot could sense the tension in her voice.

"Uh-huh." Elliot wasn't buying it. He rolled his shoulders, and cracked his knuckles. "Need help?"

"I'm good."

Elliot paused, becoming aware he was only going to get subtle answers if he only gently prodded. He was tentative to pry into her any more, yet so anxious to know what was going on.

"Nice outfit, by the way." Elliot sarcastically complimented.

"Not in the mood."

Elliot hunched his shoulders together. "Okay."

Once more, there came a silence. Elliot was desperate to break it, to figure out what was going on with Olivia. Even if it was only a bad date, he wanted to let her know she didn't have to clam up. However, he gave up, sighing heavily and standing up to get some coffee himself. "Coffee?" He offered to his partner. She shook her head.

"I'm good." Olivia muttered, shuffling through the folders.

A paper airplane shot through the air and stabbed Olivia's neck. She squealed with surprise and toppled over in her chair onto the floor. John ducked his head and stifled a nervous laugh. Fin gawked, glancing between Olivia and John, but Elliot rounded the desk to help her up. Her breathing was ragged. Olivia fought to overcome her fright, and staggered back into her chair with the aid of her partner. He asked her several times as she tried to sit if she was okay, but she shooed him back to his desk. Rubbing her eyes, she clenched her teeth and whipped her head at John.

"What the fuck?"

"Sorry! I didn't expect that sort of reaction. Elliot and Fin just sort of flinched so I thought-"

Olivia shook her head. "It's fine. Nevermind." Olivia tersely yanked open the drawer of her desk and pulled out a highlighter. She flipped several different folders open and began to glide the pen across the words of the files.

A tense quietness fell upon the squad room. Elliot was worried, but he knew he wouldn't get very far if he continued. Concern filled him as he gauged her reaction to simply being hit with a paper plane, and as much as he wished to shrug off her response, he couldn't.

One last time, he studied her, trying to figure out her reasoning for being so different today, with her entire body covered in loose, casual clothing, and the passionate blaze for her work gone from her eyes.

Any type of review is loved.