Author's Note: This takes place after "Wildlife". If you like it, let me know and I will continue. Thank you for reading and reviewing.

***EEE***

He hadn't had time to process just exactly what had happened two nights prior. But now, as he lay recovering in the hospital bed Friday morning, staring at the muted apricot-colored paint on the wall straight ahead, waiting for his discharge papers, it seemed it was all that his mind could dwell upon.

He closed his eyes and remembered every single detail.

Those full, black, lace-covered breasts as they made contact with his firm chest, erect nipples beneath, lightly teasing his overheated skin. Her strong, yet feminine, arms wrapped around him possessively, pulling him closer. God, her toned belly pressed against his felt incredible. It was all he could do to control the signals his brain was trying to send to his manhood. He desperately willed control on his lower half while her warm, soft body was pressed to his.

Given the particular situation, he could have allowed his body to display an erection, had he wanted to, and their intruders wouldn't have thought anything of it.

But Olivia. What would she have thought? Would she have been repulsed? Insulted? Taken aback?

He was so shocked, himself, by the way that scene had played out. Elliot hadn't been ready for it and had been struck with slack-jawed paralyzing awe for those brief and fleeting moments, Olivia confident and playing the role of the lady of the night rather well. Too well, in fact.

He had been speechless, turned on, and mortified all at once. The creeping scarlet flush that spread across his chiseled pecs had been evidence enough.

Now that he had already had two days to reminisce, the only thought that plagued him now was how he wished it had lasted longer, how he wished it had been real. How his partner of ten year's feelings might—just might—be as she had displayed them that evening.

It didn't matter now. He had controlled his desires, his impulses, at the exact moment that was necessary, and that's all that mattered.

Or was it?

Those defining moments, the overwhelming sensations that he was feeling, were what he couldn't help but return to in his mind. He had always thought of Olivia as a beautiful woman—a friend, a partner, a confidant at times. But, somehow, this was different. It seemed different this time.

He now felt something else. Desire? Longing? Perhaps it was both.

All he knew was that, what once had been an appreciation for his partner's physical beauty from afar, now seemed to have developed into an undeniable attraction.

Working closely with her every day, being in the car together, sharing meals together, he had always known that there was no doubt how attractive the brunette was. Who couldn't help but notice? She had the face of an angel and the body of a pin-up model. After all, he was a man and these things did not go unnoticed. Although married, he often let his concealed gaze gravitate toward the feminine beauty's best features, never believing that his physical attraction might take the direction it took that night.

But now he felt differently.

A switch had been turned on that night. The comfort level that Olivia had displayed in those moment—the way she held him close, that smooth, soft skin on his, her scent—all caused his heartbeat to quadruple in speed, his mind going places they hadn't dared explore when it came to his respect for Olivia Benson.

Over the past ten years, he and Olivia had a way of connecting without uttering a word. A perp, a victim, an asshole attorney could say one word and he and the beautiful brunette detective would simply look at each other in understanding, in recognition—a moment passing between them.

He hadn't been back to work yet—the following day was the day—and he wasn't quite sure what would happen. Olivia had visited him every day, a couple times a day, as well as others from the squad. But he had only had one visit from his family. It surprised and disappointed him that the people in his life who were supposed to mean the most hadn't visited.

But since that evening that Bushido and Tybor had discovered that he had a visitor, and the emotions that the situation had awoken inside of him, Elliot felt he was now in a quandary.

He wondered how he would handle these new-found emotions and sensations. He hoped he could carry on as he and Detective Benson had always had done.

But, somehow, he knew things had changed forever.

***OOO***

Olivia sat, elbows resting on her desk, left hand pulling on the strands of her hair as she waited for voicemail to complete its message so that she could begin to speak. Her eyes drifted upward as she waited, eyeing Fin as he entered the squad room with two cups of coffee, heading toward her desk.

She smiled as he placed it on one of the few small, vacant spaces on her desk, the area already piled with a clustered mess of scattered folders and papers, and other stray office supplies. She had been unusually busy since she walked in at eight that morning and it had been nonstop, no time to straighten the mounting piles of papers on her work space surface. With Elliot having been out the past couple of days, the workload had piled up. One of the hazards of a member being out of commission due to an injury.

Thanks, she mouthed to the mocha detective just as the voicemail message on the other end of her desk phone finished its spiel. "Ms. Andrews? This is Detective Benson at SVU. Please call me as soon as possible. We need you to come in and do an ID lineup at noon today. Please let me know if you'll be available and call me back ASAP."

Olivia replaced the phone onto the cradle and leaned back on her chair, but not before grabbing her coffee and sipped the scalding brew greedily. "Mmmm. That's good."

"Gonna pick Elliot up?" Fin's voice questioned from his desk now.

Olivia looked up and then leaned forward, "Yeah. What time is it?" She lifted her wrist and checked her watch quickly before standing hastily and beginning to form some sort of organization to the chaos on her desk. "Shit."

"Take it easy, Liv…" Fin chuckled. "Stabler can wait a few minutes."

Olivia smiled as she reached into her bottom drawer and pulled out her bag, swinging it over her shoulder. "I know he has the ability to wait, you know he can, but I don't think that he knows he can wait." Olivia stood up right now and took her car keys from her pocket. "He's been so antsy to get out of there and I promised I'd pick him up at ten sharp…"

Olivia glanced at her watch again. 9:58. In all of the craziness that had been going on that morning, she had lost track of time. Elliot would not be happy. "I'll be back, Fin…" she smirked.

"Later, Liv…good luck…" he winked.

The light was red and Olivia's mind drifted as she sat, relaxed, leaned back, waiting for it to change. She had been to see her partner every day, for the past two days, and she was finally picking him up so that he could head home and and recuperate for a week before he headed back to work.

Kathy was with the kids, visiting family, in Rhode Island, and was unable to be there for Elliot's discharge, but Olivia, ever the trustworthy partner, was available.

Olivia bit at a small piece of skin next to her thumb as her eyes glazed over, thinking of their small scene that had played out at the rented house where her partner was staying. She hadn't known that he would be raided, checked up on, and never imagined that what happened would happen.

While hiding in the bathroom, she distinctively heard the voices saying something about Elliot not being alone, and she knew that she had to do something—and fast. So, she had flushed the toilet and knew what had to be done.

It was almost comical, actually. A prostitute. She had remembered the lines in the often-quoted movie Pretty Woman, and put her character into action. She had no idea where the slight Georgia accent had emerged, but it was as though a switch had been flipped and the play that she had been performing had not only become necessary, it had become quite the performance.

Still…

The light turned green and the brunette detective eased forward into traffic, the hospital up ahead and on the right.

She had seen the way Elliot's chest had taken on a rosy hue. She had seen the conflict in those piercingly blue eyes. She had felt his ever-quickening breath as it streamed across her upper chest. But most of all, she had felt the firmness of his masculinity, pressed firmly against her upper hip.

Elliot had been turned on.

But it was the situation, right? Olivia was practically naked. Her partner was almost nude, as well. Skin to skin, warmth to warmth.

And he had felt so good—warm, safe, comforting, and highly erotic. She had always felt safe with Elliot and she knew that he felt the same with her.

They hadn't spoken of how their Oscar-winning performance had gone, but she knew that discussion was on the cusp of being had.

It was just a matter of time.