Genre: AU

Present time: Post Ghost S6E16 and goes from there. Follows storylines from cases in sequential order, but sticks to this alternate reality behind the scenes.

Pairing: Elliot/Olivia (Established Relationship)

Categories: Angst, Romance

POST-GHOST

"Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt." Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five

"Mmm," she purrs into the cords of his neck. Her voice is gruff and sleep-laced still; rushed out by the sudden weight atop her. He languidly slides himself inside as he cradles her in the early morning hour.

Elliot lifts one of her thighs up and over his hip before returning his face to the sweet indentation of his lover's jaw. Morning sex was never possible before; there was always a needy child or an uninterested wife. But with Olivia, he was fascinated at how in sync they were in life outside the office, and how they both liked to start the day with measured releases and sour breath.

Their arms grasp each other loosely; the last vestiges of sleep still hanging on everywhere. With her eyes closed, she absorbs his relief, neither of them bothering with the inevitable anger that was sure to fill their day.

The knots slowly unravel inside her when his fingers reach down and draw lazy circles just under her pubic hair. Warmth spreads over her skin, both from the budding January sun and from the man making love to her. Memories of things long forgotten, both visions and feelings, blur past her subconscious. She can't help it; it's what he does to her. The things he does to her.

Today, she recalls the first time he called her "Liv". She'd always been just Olivia, even to those closest to her. He wasn't even tentative about it – the nickname slipped out like it had always been. There was no fight, no disagreement, no relationship-cementing conversation preceding it. It was somewhere in their third year as partners, before her mother died; a simple "Hey, Liv, another cup?" as she slammed down her second cup after a long night of tossing and turning. He had brushed it off when she stared at him and shook her head, but the warm fuzzy feeling that crawled up from her stomach to her chest stayed with her all day long.

It was the first time she felt included. Wanted.

And now, as he moans the nickname into her ear, that same feeling returns to the pit of her stomach and washes over her a second time as his body clings tighter to her. Fingers tangle in her hair and try to bury themselves under the skin on her back and she acquiesces and arches to accommodate him. Her hips open wider and her feet hook higher on his back as he settles into the crux of her body and breathes heavily on her neck.

"Liv," he says. Live.

She just smiles and wraps her arms around him, holding him in the present because that's where she wants to stay.

If only.

[]

Surprisingly, their transition from partners to lovers started as casual and uncomplicated. An honest comment led to a hug which led to a kiss which led to a smile and wink and a secret. Dates were coffee shops and terrible movies at 3am at each other's apartments under separate blankets and no sex. It wasn't about sex.

They just were.

That first night, when she returned home from the precinct, Elliot's comments had reverberated in her head. Part of her had said the things she had to elicit some sort of comment, but she wasn't expecting the impact of his words to hit so hard and to mean so much.

"And look how great you turned out."

The comfort those seven words provided stunned her.

She hadn't intended to sleep with him, or kiss him, or anything really, but that same feeling of inclusion and odd acceptance drove her to knock on his door at one that morning. She'd hesitated, of course, but the moment he opened the door, she'd flung her arms around him and nearly collapsed. And she had figured he would know, of course, because in the time he'd spent away from Kathy she'd caught him lingering, noticing things about her that she was sure he'd tried not to while he had been married.

She'd pulled away from him after long minutes of a tender embrace she'd never forget - the tears dried against her flushed cheeks - and softly pressed her lips to his. It wasn't sexual, it wasn't long awaited, it was just thank you. And when he smiled down at her and drew her in for another kiss, this time full of want and realization, the door shut behind them, locking their new beginning inside a bare bones apartment off Lexington.

[]

The sun begins to fill the room now as they lay spooning on top of the strewn bed sheets. He aimlessly plays with the lone curl at the nape of her neck as she stares outside at the sprinkles of rain beginning to tap the glass. Snow hadn't yet made its appearance this winter, but the rain is somehow more soothing to her than the blanketing of white on the dirty city. Metaphorically, it washes away the grit and grime whereas the snow highlights everything, making a grayish muddled mess of it all.

"You'd think she could have said goodbye. She did last time," she mutters aloud, unable to suppress the hurt and betrayal in her voice.

His hand stills on her neck. With a deep exhale, he leans in to kiss the spot and nuzzle into her a bit more. "But we knows she's safe now. I guess that's the difference."

Olivia half smiles and grasps the arms draped around her before planting a kiss on his cheek. She makes a move to sit up and he lets her, watching as her nude body casts a jagged shadow on the messy bed.

"I wanted to tell her, you know. About us."

Elliot just nods and lays back against the now cool white pillow behind him. She's in the middle of a train of thought, and he's just going let her ride that out until she settles it in her mind. The truth is, he wanted to tell Alex, too. He sat in that high rise hotel room playing backgammon, listening to Alex's nervous laughter, and all he wanted was to say "I'm sorry you had to die, but you eventually brought us together." But that wouldn't have eased the other woman's worries over her case, so for once, he chose to keep his mouth shut and continued distracting her with board games.

Tanned arms stretch out above Olivia's head and he's mesmerized by the subtlety in her strength. The muscles in her back are knotted but beautiful, holding so much more tension than is visible, making them fluid and miraculous.

"She was telling me about her life in Wisconsin. The man she was dating," she says without turning around. "There was this… this sadness behind her eyes when she told me he called her Emily. I knew I couldn't then. And I was so drawn in with empathy at her for having to pretend to be someone else. I do it all the time."

She turns to face him, her left leg bending at the knee and propping up next to her. "I do it every day," she continues sadly.

Next to her, he frowns, his lips forming a small line across his chin. He knows what she means, they both pretend to be just partners to everyone around them. Their boss, their friends, his kids, his ex; no one knows they share each other's beds. Being with her is comfortable and easy and it makes him forget the darkness inside of him at the end of the day, but he's not sure where they're headed. He had been hoping that conversation was a long time coming, but it looks like it's about to happen now.

So he smiles quickly, reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and caress her cheek with his thumb. "You don't with me. And it won't be like this for long. It's a new year."

Her head ducks down before lifting again as she smiles at him in agreement. "Coffee?"

"Yeah."

She seems to gather every last ounce of strength in her reserve to lift herself off the bed with a squeak. She pulls her silk robe off the chair next to the window and gazes out while tying it securely. For as beautiful as people have told her she is, she has no confidence in her naked form.

The bed creaks but she can't pull her eyes from the streets. They're just starting to fill with people and cabs and at the rush of umbrellas and windshield wipers drift past her four stories below.

Arms encircle her and she smells the lingering remains of his cologne. It's always subtle, and she isn't sure if it's coming from him or her own skin. Her eyes slip closed as he gently rocks her, his nakedness awakening and sliding along the under curve of her behind.

"I'm going to hit the shower. Join me when you're done," he whispers and kisses the back of her head, slipping away to the small bathroom behind them.

When the door closes, she sighs. A new year, she thinks, reveling in his unspoken promise. Never before had an increment of time held so much potential. She has never been one to look forward to the future, not for personal reasons anyway. But the little flip her stomach does when she thinks about what could be with her and Elliot is enough to make even the most cynical part of her subconscious a believer.

[]