First, let's get some business out of the way...
As always, I do not own these characters or anything related to SVU storylines....I'm just borrowing them for a while to have some fun with them.
This story is fairly Season 9-centric, with some later details added in. It focuses mainly on the struggle that Olivia and Elliot have regarding their ever-changing feelings for one another.
Please read and review....your reviews are the driving force to make my stories the best they can be. I'd like your input very much :)
Olivia landed forceful punches, first left, then right. Over and over she continued her assault on the lifeless partner that hung before her. She wiped the sweat from her brow, moving back in for more. She ignored her screaming muscles-this pain felt better than the pain inside.
Her lungs ached, her chest heaved, but still she incessantly fought the partner that would not fight back, could not fight back. With every impact of her gloved fists, she imagined his face was the target. Anger seethed within her, renewed by her memories of helplessness, of complete submission. When she closed her eyes his face distorted in front of her, laughing at her, mocking her. She used up the last of her remaining strength, barreling punches relentlessly. She wanted to make him feel as helpless as she had felt in that basement.
She was eventually spent, and moved to sit down on the wall bench, trying to catch her breath. How long have I been here, she asked herself. She un-gloved and un-taped her hands, leaning her head back against the brick wall behind her. Her breathing had calmed somewhat, so she headed for the locker to retrieve her gym bag. She pulled out her phone and checked the time. She'd been sparring for two hours, and the ache in her legs and shoulders told the whole story. She decided she would rather shower at home, so she collected her belongings and headed out into the night.
She saw the silhouette of the person long before she could make out who it was. He was sitting on the front steps of her building, head in hands. She slowed her pace, caution taking over. But as she neared she realized there was no need for alarm. She would know Elliot's posture anywhere.
"El, I hope you haven't been waiting for me all evening out here," she said. He had not heard her approach, and jerked his head up in response to her voice.
"Hey, sorry," he replied, rising to stand on the step, so she had to look up to meet his eyes. "I, uh, just didn't really feel like going home, so I thought I'd check in and make sure you're okay." The exhaustion was evident in his voice.
The last couple of cases had really taken their toll on all of them. She was surprised she had actually had the energy to stay at the gym as long as she had.
Olivia pushed open the heavy door, making her way to her apartment. Elliot trailed in her wake. There was no permission needed to follow her in, it was understood that he was always welcome with her. And this left him with a feeling of comfort. She fished out her keys, unlocked the door and stumbled inside, the weight of her gym back throwing her off kilter momentarily. The stumble had only been slight, but as she sat her bag down, she felt the warmth of Elliot's hand on her arm. She smiled, because if it had been anyone else, the gesture would have annoyed the hell out of her. But somehow, Elliot's touch was always welcome. She smiled faintly back at him.
"I'm good, just got a little tripped up." He released her, sheepishly following her into the room.
He sometimes didn't like the fact that he was always so quick to come to her rescue, no matter how trivial or small the incident. He knew damn well she could take care of herself, but for some reason he felt the need to be her cushion.
She released her hair from the tie holding it, and stripped off her sweaty gym clothes. "Have you eaten yet?" she asked him. "I'm starving, for a change."
"Um, no-you want to get some take-out or something?" he asked in response.
She was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, and saw her faint reflected smile. What the hell it is about him….she silently pondered. There had not been a lot of smiling going on the past couple of months, for either one of them. Between Sealview and its aftermath, their regular case load, and his divorce, there just hadn't been too many things to smile about. But somehow, for some reason, he could always make her smile. And she knew that her effect on him was similar.
"Sure, you pick," she said back, wrapping a robe around her, "just no pizza. I'm sick of pizza."
"All right, where are your….," he stopped short. His back had been to her, so when she walked into the kitchen in just a bathrobe, it caught him off guard. The damn thing wasn't sashed very well, and he had a generous view of her chest, more than he needed to have. He detected a glimmer of amusement in her eyes as her mouth twitched slightly.
"My what, El?" she asked, almost teasingly. She paused a moment, enjoying his apparent discomfort.
"The take-out menus are on the counter," she said, knowing what he was referring to. His face reddened just a tinge, and he stood up, rubbing the back of his neck.
Walking over to get them, he met her eyes briefly. "Thanks," he said, with a little smile of his own.
"I'm going to get a shower while you take care of that." She turned toward the bathroom before he could respond, leaving him with a handful of menus and a dumb expression.
Olivia stood still in the shower, enjoying the warmth of the water. Her body was tired and achy, but tired and achy was better than numb. Her ordeal at Sealview had definitely changed her, and not for the better. But she pushed it back, did what she needed to do to function. It wasn't something she was ready to talk about, especially not to Elliot. She visited Huang like she was supposed to, but that was different. Seeing a shrink was required for her to return to duty. She was simply going through the motions in order to put it behind her and move on.
She closed her eyes, working the shampoo through her hair. She smirked slightly when she remembered Elliot's expression a few minutes ago. She really hadn't thought anything about traipsing in front of him in her robe. But after seeing his reaction, she knew she most assuredly should have.
Their relationship was undergoing a change, to say the least. Things had been difficult for a while—her evasiveness, his family issues. Slowly, however, they were beginning to rediscover the chemistry that had held them together for so many years. But it was different this time. They weren't just partners, or even just friends. But what were they?
Physically, they had never shared anything more than a hug. But the storm was always there. Anytime they were in close proximity, it could be perceived by both. Neither of them labeled it or even openly acknowledged it, but it was there nonetheless--a quiet churning energy, greater than comfort or respect.
She stepped out of the shower, toweling off. She slipped on some lounge pants and a tank top, and went to join Elliot in the living room. She started to speak, but the words stopped short when she rounded the corner. His head was laid back on the couch, his eyes closed. Cocking her head to the side, all she could do was watch him. Elliot--the raging cop, the stern father, the tough interrogator—was quite peaceful-looking when he slept.
She stepped softly around to sit beside him on the couch. She fought back the incredible urge to reach out and touch his cheek. This man--the only man in her life--had come to mean so much to her, especially in the last few years. They had been through so much, and still they remained. Many changes had occurred, some good, but most bad, and she knew that theirs was a bond that could never be broken. No amount of anger or harsh words, or even periods of separation, had permanently damaged them. And there was no one else she could say that about.
She leaned back on the couch, continuing to watch him sleep. Even though her movement was slight, it was enough to bring him back. He glanced over at her, his eyes heavy with sleep.
"I'm sorry," he croaked, "didn't realize I was so tired, I guess."
She simply shook her head, "I was just going to let you rest. You looked so peaceful."
He smiled, admiring her casual attire and still-wet hair. He loved that she could be so at ease around him. Without makeup and without her work clothes—she still was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
"What?" she asked, feeling the burn of his stare.
He just shook his head, not wanting to muddy the waters with an awkward conversation, at least not tonight.
"Thanks for letting me hang out here for a while," he said. "I'm just…..still not really adjusted to living alone, I guess." He laughed strangely, "Not that it's really any different. I mean, I was hardly ever home anyway."
Olivia pursed her lips, absorbing the pain hidden in his words. "But there was always the knowledge that you had somewhere to go," she replied softly.
He nodded. He was amazed how she always knew without knowing.
"How are the kids doing?" she asked, settling back, one arm propped on the back of the couch.
"Well, they're kids, ya know. At their age, they're so busy with their own lives…." Elliot trailed off. "To be honest, I haven't really talked to them much about it. Guess they got so used to not having me around they've just found their own ways to cope."
Olivia sat quietly, just wanting to listen. "Me and Kathy….," he continued, "We grew apart a long time ago. I mean, it got to where we couldn't even be in the same room without having a shouting match. But still, everything's just so different now. I've been married so long--I don't know any other life."
His marriage was something that they rarely discussed, for one reason or another. But she was touched by his frankness in talking about it tonight.
"I know, El, and I'm sorry that it happened," she lied. "But I think that it could end up being a good thing for both of you."
He rose from the couch, going into the kitchen. She wondered if she had said too much. "I sure hope you're right, Liv." He retrieved two glasses from the cabinet, and found some wine in the chiller.
Olivia watched him, strangely comforted by how Elliot knew his way around her kitchen. He had probably spent more time here than at his own house, and she knew that that fact had more than likely had a negative impact on his life with Kathy. Although Kathy had known and vaguely accepted Elliot and Olivia's partnership, it was something that she was never able to completely come to terms with. Not that Olivia could blame her.
But in ten years, nothing had ever happened between her and Elliot. Whenever he visited, it was usually because of a tough case or assignment. But the buck always stopped there. They had never, in any way, been unprofessional in their partnership. But, as Olivia pondered their just-finished conversation, she wondered how much longer that would be the case.
He returned to the couch, wine glasses in hand. She accepted, pushing the last thoughts from her mind.
"So, Liv," she heard him say, "how are you really doing? I mean, you may be able to pull that old smoke and mirrors crap on the rest of the world, but," he emphasized, pointing to himself, "this is me you're talking to now. We've not really talked about it, since," he stopped, both knowing what he was referring to.
Olivia shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, refusing to meet his gaze. She took a long sip from her glass. "El, I know, I just…..I just don't see how talking about it is going to help. I mean, it sure as hell isn't going to change anything, so…" her words trailed to silence. "I'm just learning to do what I have to in order to do my job and move on."
Elliot was silent for a while, and she feared that her refusal to talk had made him angry. But when she looked up at him, there was no anger painting his features.
"Liv, if I could've been there, Harris would be a dead man. And I know that if you can't even talk about it to me, then it must've been terrible. I just want you to know that I'm sorry. If I'd had any idea, I never would have gone along with that assignment." His compassion was deep, and it brought soft tears to her eyes.
"Elliot," she said gently, not wanting to cry, "It wasn't your place to save me. I was doing my job, and it just went really, really wrong. There was nothing you could've done. Nobody expected it, least of all me. I knew the risk I was taking when I agreed to go under."
"I could've choked the life out of him," Elliot said, leaning toward her slightly. "And it's always my place to save you. You're my partner, right?" This caused her to smile weakly; his need to protect her was ever-present, but strangely not unwelcome by her.
"It's over with now, and I just want to get on with my life," she replied, meeting his gaze finally. "And I promise I will tell you everything," she paused, swallowing a sob, "just not tonight."
He resisted the urge to gather her up in his arms. Instead he replied, his voice thickly emoted and sincere, "I'm always here, Liv. Doesn't matter if it's 3 in the morning on a Tuesday, I'm here."
She smiled, an inexplicable calm flowing over her. She knew that he was there for her. She had always known that. But something about his words at this moment—it was all she needed.
"I know, El, I do. And you'll never know how much it means to me."
They didn't speak for several seconds, just stared. A silent conversation was taking place, one that had been screaming to be heard for a decade now. Elliot's eyes studied her face, her mouth, the curve of her jaw, and used all of his restraint not to stroke her face, kiss her mouth.
There was a line somewhere, one that they had always been so careful not to cross. But that line was getting harder and harder to recognize. Olivia's head felt swimmy, her heart beating just a little faster. She opened her mouth to speak, but her words were silenced when the doorbell rang.
The spell was broken, but still they both stared.
"Food's here," she said, finally breaking the searing gaze. She rose from the sofa to answer the door.
Elliot stretched his arms behind his head and sighed. Disaster averted, he thought to himself. He collected his thoughts, discovering that proverbial line had once again become clear.
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