One-shot request from 1LUVSVU. Can I just say that holy shit this was hard to write. This was probably the most challenging request I have gotten and I really hope I did it justice. Spooked was a great episode and thanks for the idea.

That coward. That fucking coward! It took everything she had to trust him and he threw it back in her face. He should rot in jail; if not for what he did to those people than for what he did to her.

He's and accessory to murder and he's getting away with it. Fucking FBI. Fucking Dean Porter, who gets to waltz in here, sweep her off her feet, take her away, and leave her fucking crushed.

The look on her face when he left, it will haunt me. She didn't know I saw, she didn't know I was there. But I was and I did see.

Feelings don't matter. How could he say that to her? Maybe his don't but hers do. They matter to her and they sure as hell matter to me.

And she looked so beautiful tonight in her dress, the one that clings to her. I wonder if she wore that for him? Would she ever wear something like that for me?

It took everything I had not to rip him off of her tonight. He shouldn't have been there. He shouldn't have been touching her like that. She shouldn't have let him, wanted him, to touch her like that; ever.

She knows how I feel about her; she has to. She should know that I cant stand to see her with anyone else but me and yet there I was in her bedroom as she seduced the man I despise on her couch, with her body, in that dress.

Fuck being married. Fuck being a good catholic.

I have to see her. I have to make sure she is okay. If not for her sake then for mine.

She shouldn't be alone tonight. Not after what Porter did. Not after she had a gun held to her head.

I can see it now. The second she opens her door she is going to invite me in and act like everything is fine. She is going to offer me a beer and pretend that she hadn't been crying her eyes out moments before I arrived. She is going to talk about anything she can think of to take her mind off of Rojas, off of Dean.

He saved her life. He took the shot I could never have taken and saved her life.

Like Gitano.

I had been so selfish then. I'm being selfish now. Who am I to say she can't be with Dean? So I don't like him; I don't like anyone she dates. I don't like any guy who so much as smiles at her.

I'm a fucking coward. I always say I want her to be happy but I don't. Truth is, I want her to be happy only if she is happy with me. How is that fair to her? Who am I to keep her from finding the family that would make her happy?

I already have a family. I'm married, to Kathy.

So why can't I get her out of my mind? Why can't I forget the feeling of her in my arms after the shot was fired and she fell to the ground.

I thought I had lost her. I thought she had been hit. Once I had her in my arms I knew I couldn't let her go. I couldn't let her leave me once again. She smelt so sweet, felt like her body had a permanent mold into my arms; like she had been there a thousand times.

And then there was Dean, lowering his gun and I realized that I hadn't saved her. He did.

And once again she walked out of my arms and I let my rage get the best of me and I left her.

I shouldn't have left her; not with pretty boy Dean to pick up the pieces. The pieces he fucking shattered right after.

At least I didn't yell at her this time. I couldn't. She had been hurt enough.

I need to make things right. I need to show her that there are people out there who actually care enough not to hurt her. I need to prove to her that she is loved; that I love her. I need her to know that.

And maybe she will turn me away. Maybe she will say she doesn't feel the way I do or that its wrong, that I'm married. Maybe she will be angry.

Or, maybe she'll say it back. Maybe she'll say its okay and kiss me. Maybe she'll take me into her arms, into her bed, her body. I could hold her like I have always wanted to and apologize for never letting her be happy with anyone else. And tell her that its okay because I am here now and she doesn't have to hurt over Porter anymore.

Or maybe I should just leave, turn around before she opens her door. Maybe its better if we leave things the way they are and I go home to my wife and she continues crying over the love she doesn't think she'll ever have and tomorrow I can smile at my best friend and we can pretend that nothing ever happened.

Pretend that Dean was never there and she never loved him and I was never jealous. I never saw her that way, in her dress. She never touched Dean, he never touched her and I never hated him for it.

And I never loved her.

"Elliot?" She asked as she opened the door to her apartment. "What are you doing here?"