AN: It's been awhile. Just hoping I'd get some inspiration for finishing my script if I just wrote something. So of course, I chose the two easiest characters to write about, lol. Not your typical EO beginning, at least not from me. Bear with me people, I'm rusty. But shall we see where it goes?
It finally happened, despite the fact she swore it never would. She was adamant not solely to other people, but also to herself. Especially to herself. Whispers, rumors and innuendo were bad enough but she sure as hell wanted to be anything but a cliché.
Olivia couldn't do a damn thing about the rest, but she definitely thought she could avoid being a fucking cliché. That all changed last night. There's no beautifully poetic, sunshine & flowers, champagne & candlelight way to put it.
They fucked.
There was no gut wrenching, emotionally draining case. No overabundance of alcohol. Nothing to blame on the reason they jeopardized their respectfully platonic friendship by getting naked and sweaty with each other on a Saturday evening after she'd casually invited him over to watch an NHL playoff game.
And she's struggling to figure out why.
Last night wasn't different than any other time they shared after hours, which wasn't all that often. Despite the aforementioned whispers, rumors and innuendo, they simply didn't hang out much beyond what was required of them by the NYPD.
A phone call from his eldest son reminding him he needed a ride back to the U.S. Coast Guard Academy, woke them this morning giving them both a pass on having to come up with excuses for him to leave. Being light sleepers due to their jobs, both were startled awake by his purposely annoying ringtone. There was barely any time to register his warm breath on the back of her neck, his arm draped across her middle nor the feeling of his bare skin pressed so intimately against her own before the noise began.
Olivia turned back over because it was too damn early but remembers hearing him hurrying back into his clothes, mumbling a few choice words when he'd stubbed his toe on her dresser and feeling his lips on her temple before he rushed out with a quick, "call you later Liv."
That was several hours ago.
She has since gotten up, showered, stripped the sheets from her bed and made herself breakfast. Upon waking she was immediately bombarded by their combined scents, the memory of what they'd done as well as his phantom touches. No way in hell was she going to continue laying there replaying it in her mind.
"It was a bad idea, and it can't happen again," she says to herself for the millionth time as she's throwing her sheets and other laundry into the washer.
Olivia decided it would be one more thing they'd put behind them like so many others. This situation will be decidedly more difficult to bury, but for the sake of her career and her longest, most cherished relationship…
She can do it.
"I can do it," Elliot thinks.
He can still smell himself all over her thanks to the hours it has taken to drive his son back to school before heading home. It was mostly a quiet ride. Rick didn't comment on his vanilla and brown sugar scented father and Elliot skipped the lecture on his son's obvious hangover.
Since the divorce he vowed he'd be there more for his kids, and he's happily come through for them more often than not. Elliot made a similar promise regarding his partner a year ago. Not to be there more, because they obviously spend an overabundance of time together already, but to stop taking her for granted.
They communicated better after he found out his hero was a murderer. Got closer after O'Halloran was killed. And when she finally confessed the details of Sealview, Elliot encouraged her to revisit counseling. The partnership evolved, and they continued discussing everything other than the one subject they actively avoided. Their feelings. A conscious decision on both their parts because he was still married at the time.
But last night…things changed.
One minute they were sitting on her sofa yelling about uncalled penalties by the ref and cheering at hard checks by their favorite defenseman. And the next, they were talking about their respective personal lives and why neither of them was dating.
"Well, I've had enough time on a shrink's couch to know what someone like Huang would say," Olivia pointed out.
"And what's that?" Elliot asked, smiling around his beer as he sipped.
She smirked before grabbing the remote and switching to a random movie channel after the game highlights began to roll.
"That as much time as we spend together, talking, working, eating…we get almost everything out of this partnership that we'd have in a relationship."
"Yeah, almost everything," he said, waggling his eyebrows and making her laugh.
"What's your take?" She asked. "And don't give me that 'married to the job' bullshit because that's my line Stabler."
"Well, Kathy did like to call you my 'work wife'," he told her, resulting in a throw pillow to the face.
"I've always hated that term," she said. "Makes me sound like some nagging woman that babysits you, makes sure your DD5s are handed in on time and ensures you stay out of trouble."
"Well we both know that's not true," Elliot told her. "But I've had enough time on my own shrink's couch to know that you're right."
"What?"
"You heard me," he said. "We click. We always have. There are times we've majorly disagreed, but we've always supported each other, rooted for each other, protected each other," he adds. "And that is almost…a relationship."
She held his eyes for a long moments before having to turn away.
"No more of these for you," she said, taking his bottle and downing what little remained of his beer. "Now help me clean all this up before you start waxing poetic."
He shook his head as he helped gather the food boxes and empty bottles before following her into the kitchen.
"It's only my second beer Liv," he said, rinsing the empties before putting them in her recycle container beneath the sink. "Do I really not tell you you're right often enough to make you think I'm drunk?"
He watched as she put away the leftovers in the fridge.
"No, you don't," Olivia said as she closed the door. "But I'm not some rookie who needs positive affirmations," she added. "I know when I'm right," she smirked, leaning against the opposite counter in the small kitchen. "Happens often."
"With that kind of modesty, I don't know why some lucky bastard hasn't swept you off your feet already," he poked, making her laugh.
"You should know," she told him. "You and this almost relationship is obviously blocking all the action I could be getting."
He shook his head but couldn't hide his grin.
And that's when it happened.
On a random Saturday night, just enjoying one another's company and making each other smile, he kissed her. And to Elliot's great surprise, delight and enjoyment, Olivia Benson kissed him back.
She kissed him back.
That is, she surmises, where she fucked up. Olivia knows she should've pulled away, stopped him or at the very least not kissed him back, but she did. Enthusiastically so, if she remembers correctly.
"Shit," she says to herself.
Maybe if she managed more than a date a month in the last year, she wouldn't have responded so strongly to his advances. Then again, she'd be lying to herself to deny having fantasized about everything they did to one another last night.
Olivia blushes at the thoughts that immediately invade her mind.
"Shit!"
After she prepares and eats lunch at home, she sits down at her laptop in an attempt at being productive. She figures if anything can take her mind off her predicament, it will be monotonous paperwork, reviewing victim statements and working on court testimony.
It works for about two hours.
Now she's back to thinking about what happened on her kitchen counter, then her sofa and her carpeted living room floor before they managed to finally make it to her bedroom. And to make matters worse, she has soreness in places that haven't been used for a while, along with numerous hickies, some of which she needed a mirror to see.
Olivia's had good sex before. Hell, she's had great sex before. But she has never spent an entire night, redefining the laws of gravity and physics, having phenomenal sex with someone who is her partner. With whom, she must work on Monday.
"Fuck!"
She nearly jumps out her skin when she hears the series of knocks against her front door. Elliot said he'd call but obviously, it's him. He's been knocking the same way for twelve years. Olivia is hesitant to answer but, in the end, she knows she will.
Avoidance has never done either of them any favors.
"You okay?" He asks. "I heard you yelling."
"I'm good," she answers. "Just…working," she adds, gesturing to her desk littered in paperwork.
"I see that," he says, closing the door behind himself. "Do you have a minute to talk?" He asks, stuffing both hands in his jean's front pockets.
Elliot has showered, changed and had lunch with his girls. Everything his Sunday was supposed to consist of. The need for this conversation, or anything remotely resembling it, was the furthest thing from his mind when he made plans last week.
Olivia notices that he tries to keep his distance when before last night, he would've already come in and situated himself on the sofa or her armchair. He hasn't respected her personal space since they met. And he sure has hell wouldn't have asked for her time in the previous twenty-four hours.
"Sure, have a seat."
The vanilla and brown sugar scent wafts up his nose as he passes by and Elliot balls his fists to physically stop himself from reaching to touch her.
"I uh, rushed out of here kind of fast this morning," he begins, choosing the armchair. "Forgot I had to take Rick back to the academy."
"Coast Guard, huh?" She asks. "Guess that's safer than the Marines or the Army."
"Hope so," he answers. "It was a good compromise, he seems to be enjoying it and it's one less college tuition."
"Good for him."
"But…"
"You're not here to talk about Rick," she acknowledges, facing him as she gets comfortable in one corner of her sofa.
"No," he responds. "Last night we—"
"I remember," she interrupts. "We probably should've talked more before—"
"Or after," he tells her. "At least the first time."
"Or the third."
"Or the fourth," he adds trying to hide a smirk.
"This isn't funny Elliot," she chides. "We're partners. And partners, at least those that wanna remain partners, don't have sex."
"Sorry," he acquiesces. "But it's not like we ran off to Vegas and got tanked before paying an Elvis impersonator to preside over our nuptials," he points out. "We don't have to rat ourselves out to Cragen."
He knows he's trying to minimize what happened between them as something less than colossal, because that's exactly what it is. But he's doing it for the good of the relationship they're both comfortable with, in its previous sexless form.
"Okay," she agrees. "Just…wanna make sure we're on the same page."
"We are," he tells her. "Last night wasn't supposed to happen and for the sake of our partnership—
"It shouldn't happen again," Olivia finishes. "Right."
"But at least we don't have to wonder anymore," he adds. "That…tension has been broken, ya know?"
Olivia looks away, tries to hide a grin under the guise of scratching her nose before returning her gaze on the guy that made her moan, scream and climax more times in one night than any man ever has.
"Yeah," she admits. "No more of that particular tension."
Now begins the new-found tension of trying to keep her mind out of the gutter and her hands to herself with a hell of lot more restraint than was previously required. Because before she could only speculate how his tongue would feel sliding against hers, or his mouth would feel on various parts of her anatomy, or his hands or his…
"Liv!"
"What?"
"I've been calling your name for a solid minute and you've just been staring at me like…"
Like she's seen him naked and wants to again. Soon. Even now.
"I'm sorry," she says, quickly standing. "I've been spacing out all morning," she tells him moving toward the door, hinting he should do the same. "And I have all this work I wanna catch up on."
"Right, well I'm glad we talked Liv," he says. "I didn't want things to be awkward between us tomorrow."
"No worries partner," she tells him.
They stand uncomfortably at her front door for a few seconds before he leans in, placing a lingering kiss to her cheek. Olivia instantly places a hand at his nape, holding him there. He ends the kiss but drops lower, nuzzling her neck, inhaling her scent.
Feeling his breath on her skin, she innately tightens her hold as if her body has forgotten what they've just agreed to. Her heart quickly begins to race once Elliot opens his mouth against her pulse and puts both arms around her waist, pulling her against his body.
He places warm, open-mouthed kisses from the tender flesh of her neck, to her cheek before blissfully parting her lips with his own. Tongues glide against each other, he suckles at her lower lip and she's seconds from going for the button of his jeans.
If not for the need to breathe, Olivia would never have found the strength to pull back.
"You should go," she tells him as he releases his hold. "And maybe…maybe we shouldn't see each other outside of work for a while," she adds with a flushed face and racing heart.
He simply nods, just as affected, not needing to ask about the why. They need to slide those decade-plus old barriers back into place. Them being alone in the same room, without the prying eyes of their coworkers with what's between them now, is a bad idea. They've just proven that.
"See you in the morning," Elliot rasps, then quickly exits.
Olivia is left frustrated and apprehensive about what tomorrow will bring.
End AN: Hope you enjoyed this first chapter. Please let me know what you think so far in a review. Also, I didn't use a beta. I never have. So, if you see any errors, ah well. I'm human and this site doesn't let you edit without going through removing and uploading again. No thanks.