Note from SuperCellist: Hello again! I'm back! No, I wasn't eaten by a pack of wolves. I was writing. This chapter take me long time. I was up until 1 am finishing it. Anyway, I know I said that I wouldn't do any more chapter stories, but obviously I can't help myself. If it wasn't a chapter story, it would take longer to read than the copy of Gone With the Wind I checked out of the library a few years ago–over 1,000 pages. I wouldn't do that to my lovely readers. So, here's the first chapter of "It Happened One Night." Enjoy.
Olivia Benson was not a morning person, especially not this morning.
She had been rudely jolted awake from a pleasant dream by the couple in the next apartment. From the sound of it, World War III was beginning.
"Why can't people get along?" she groaned, squeezing a pillow against her ears. To forget about the noise, she went over the dream in her mind. She was relaxing on a beach, when her partner, Elliot, ran up to her. He was wearing the bathing suit she got him for his birthday a few years ago. His body was, as usual, perfect, and even in the dream she could feel herself melt. He grabbed her hand and told her he wanted to show her something. He led her to the water's edge and stood there for a few seconds, until a large yellow submarine rose up out of the depths. A band of small mouse-like creatures came out and asked them if they wanted to see the sub. They were about to go inside (Elliot's hand still entwined with hers) when the screaming neighbors awakened her.
She held the picture of Elliot in a bathing suit in her mind, willing herself not to lose control and shoot the neighbors. They were still going at it, oblivious to the police officer next door who was sleeping in on her much-needed day off. She curled up in a ball and shut her eyes tight. She heard pounding feet, and then…
"Wake up! Wake up!" and excited voice shouted at her.
She jumped up, smacking her head on the headboard. When she opened her eyes a few seconds later, she saw Elliot Stabler standing at her bedroom door.
"Elliot! What the hell!" she cursed.
"Come on! We've got a day off! We can do anything!" he said happily.
"What is wrong with you?" she said, hiding her head under a pillow again.
He grabbed her arm and shook it. "Don't be lazy! We've got a whole day ahead of us!"
"Go away!" her shout was muffled by the pillow.
Elliot realized he had one last chance to get her up. He grabbed her sides and squeezed, knowing those were her ticklish spots. She squealed and sat up. Her evil glare didn't scare him, and he reached over and poked her in the side. In response, she took a pillow and smacked him with it. Poking her in the side once more, her ran out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. He heard her bare feet slap the wood floor, then saw her zoom like a missile straight at him. She ran right into him, driving them both against the wall. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her to him so she wouldn't get away.
"Hey, look. You're in the bathroom, so might as well get ready." He grinned.
Her head resting comfortably on his chest, she admitted defeat. She sighed. "I won't forget this, Stabler," she warned, not making any move to disentangle herself from his embrace.
"Well, you might not want me attached to you," he said, removing his warm arms from around her. She shivered at the loss of contact.
Elliot resisted the urge to re-wrap himself around her. He had bothered her enough that morning. Another few seconds and she would rip him to shreds.
"See you later," he said, and walked out of the bathroom.
Olivia shut the door and leaned against it. When she had run into him it was like running into a brick wall…a very warm and sexy brick wall, if that was possible. Had she heard a note of reluctance in his voice when he left?
"Pull yourself together, Benson, you're an adult!" she chided herself. Then the Elliot-in-a-bathing-suit dream picture came up and she sighed. "Or not." She grabbed a towel.
Meanwhile, Elliot was pacing back and forth in her kitchen, running his hand continuously through his short hair. What had he done? Had he blurred the line between friendship and something more?
"Let it go," he mumbled to himself. "She doesn't think of you the way you think of her."
He just wanted to see her, to be with her, he wanted…
The screams of the neighbors once again penetrated the walls. He cocked his head to one side and listened.
"I see you've met the neighbors," Olivia said, making Elliot jump. He hadn't realized she was in the kitchen. She was wearing a very form-fitting pair of jeans and a tight t-shirt. She was cleaning up the kitchen, not even realizing what her body was doing to him. He swallowed hard and shook his head.
She leaned against the counter and crossed her arms. "What have you go planned for today, El?" she asked.
He grinned. "Nothing. I thought we'd just wing it."
"You mean," she said incredulously, "that you got me out of bed on a day off and you didn't have anything planned?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "Yes," he said simply.
She threw up her hands in exasperation. "I give up with you."
The restaurant they picked was small and almost empty. They sat at a table in the far corner. Their eyes drifted over their menus, the murk of quiet enveloping the corner. Elliot could not stop thinking about how Olivia had been in his arms that morning. His insides writhed every time he remembered the feel of her skin on his. She seemed to become one with him, but maybe he was looking to far into this. After all, she was running and couldn't stop herself. But on the other hand, he was the one to break the embrace…
You're an idiot, Stabler, why'd you let her go?
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. It was going to be a long day if he couldn't stop thinking of her in that way.
"Something wrong?" Olivia asked nonchalantly, glancing over the top of her menu at him.
"Nope. I'm good," he said, forcing a smile.
He could be so infuriating when he hid things from her. Of course, she was being a hypocrite, because there was something on her mind that she could never tell him.
She had never felt muscles like those before. His hands were like hungry animals, unknowingly running over her skin, fingers hooking into the flesh. Though his chest was rock hard, she felt like she was falling into a warm feather bed when his arms came around her. She forgave him in that second for waking her up the way he did.
"Hello, you two. My name is Janice and I'll be serving you today. Would you like anything to drink?" their waitress said. She had a small Wisconsin accent. Elliot almost laughed.
Olivia pulled her eyes away from Elliot's arm. "I'd like an orange juice, please," she said.
"And I'd like…a grapefruit juice, please," Elliot said, his voice deeper than usual. Olivia felt goosebumps rise on her arms.
"Grapefruit juice?" Olivia asked when the waitress left their table. "Since when have you had grapefruit juice?"
"I want to get healthy," he answered. "So I can be around for a long time."
"You look fine to me," she said, shrugging her shoulders.
"So glad you think so."
They fell silent when the waitress returned with their drinks. "Are you ready to order?" she asked.
"Yes. I'll have the pancake breakfast," Elliot decided.
"And for me, the vegetable omelet and sausage," Olivia said, handing over the menus.
There was another silence. Olivia decided she had to say something. It was giving her too much time with her own thoughts, and that wasn't good in her present situation.
"Hey, El," she began. "Are you afraid of anything?"
He looked at her, his grapefruit juice halfway to his mouth. "What?" he asked, caught off-guard.
"Are you afraid of anything?"
He thought a little before answering. "I'm afraid that one of my kids might get hurt. I'm afraid that a perp might try to hurt my family. I'm afraid that I might get shot. I'm afraid that I'll…" he stopped, holding himself back.
"What?" she whispered.
He took her hand and looked her straight in the eye. "I'm afraid that I'll lose you."
Her eyes widened, but she never dropped his gaze. What was he talking about? She wasn't going anywhere. Matter of fact, she was afraid she'd eventually lose him. She held on tighter to his hand.
The moment was broken when the waitress brought their breakfasts. They ate in a comfortable silence, paid, and left.
They walked slowly down a quiet street (hard to find in New York), hands brushing against each other once in a while. They talked about small things: life in New York, Olivia's annoying neighbors, the vacations they wanted to take, the crazy homeless man who had tried to stuff a dead bird in Elliot's pocket earlier that week.
"The look on your face was priceless when he held out that dead bird," Olivia laughed, remembering how Elliot had a look of pure disgust when presented with the small animal.
"Remember how he tried to shove it in my pocket? He was rambling on about how I had to take it to an Air Force base."
"At least he had a sense of humor."
"Yeah, great sense of humor. Did he really think I thought a dead bird in my pocket was funny?"
"I would have laughed."
"Do you like to laugh at me? Do you find my predicaments funny? Are you nuts?"
"No, it's your reactions that are hilarious."
"You're kidding, right?"
"No."
He moved closer to her left side and tapped her right shoulder. He didn't know if she'd do anything, but he was feeling a little silly…or maybe it was just another reason to touch her.
"You are so not smooth, Stabler. I saw your hand coming a mile away."
"But my arm isn't a mile long," he said, mock-seriously.
"Right, Amelia Bedilia."
"You implying that I'm a cross-dresser?"
"Well, you sure act like it!" she laughed, jumping away when he tried to poke her.
Quiet came over them. They passed by a schoolyard with a small field. It was empty today; no children running around, no mothers making boo-boos feel better.
"Hey, Liv, let's walk through that field."
She nodded. Their feet made swishing sounds in the short grass. Olivia watched it spring back up after she stepped on it, wishing she could do that. Jump back up when something bad happened to her. Not feel bad about her father. Make a life with someone instead of wasting it on one-night stands.
"Penny for your thoughts," Elliot said, curious.
"A penny saved is a penny earned," she said. No way in hell would she open up now.
"Okay," he said. "But if you ever want to talk…"
"You'll be there," she finished.
"Of course."
He was always so damn understanding. He knew when to back off and when to push her. He knew the right words to say at any given moment. That's probably what made her fall for him. His looks didn't hurt, either, but that was beside the point. She had seen inside of him, his soul, and she knew this was the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. She was half-rewarded because she spent every day with him at work, but that was not the same as being married to him. She could live on the small police salary if she could just have him. Oh so cliché, but oh so true.
"Liv, look. A football. You wanna play catch?" His voice startled her from her thoughts.
"Okay," she said.
He tossed the football to her, and she tossed it back. Each time, they stepped farther and farther away from each other.
"This is like that water-balloon-toss game I used to play at school carnivals," Olivia said. "My partner and I always lost because I could never hold onto the water balloon." Her point was proven when she dropped the ball after Elliot threw it to her.
"Here, let me help you," Elliot called, and ran over to where she was standing. Getting behind her, he rested his chin on her shoulder, his lips dangerously close to her neck. He put his hands over hers.
"When you catch the ball, clamp down very hard with your hands and hold the ball to you," Elliot explained.
Was he meaning to do this? Was he deliberately killing her slowly on the field? She found herself wishing that he would move his lips closer so that they were touching her neck.
"Got it?" he asked.
She nodded.
He went back to his previous place and threw the ball. She reached for it, but it sailed over her head and landed a few feet away. When she turned around to get it, she tripped and fell.
Elliot sprinted over to her. He found her holding onto her knee and wincing in pain.
"Are you all right? What happened?" Elliot asked frantically.
"I think I skinned my knee."
"Lift up your pants leg and let me see," he ordered, going into father mode.
Olivia looked at him, but did as she was told. She rolled up the pants leg up past her knee. It was very red, and she could see where some skin had come off. Elliot ran his fingers over the wound, stopping when he felt her jerk. One of his hands rested on her ankle, the other on her knee.
His mind reeled. Leg, he thought. My God, what a leg.
Olivia was not much better off. His hands. Oh, my God, his hands are on my bare leg.
She cleared her throat. "Let's go back to my apartment. We'll put some Neosporin and a Band-Aid on it."
He reluctantly removed his hands from her leg. "Sure," he said. He helped her up, and couldn't help glancing one more time at her leg.
Damn, that woman has great legs.
Another note from SuperCellist: Don't ask about the crazy homeless man with the dead bird. It was late at night and I was tired. Oh yeah, I almost reused the joke about the waitress falling in love with Elliot (from "Happy Accidents"), but as one of my friends used to say, "Once is funny, twice is not, and three times is a kick in the head." And yes, I did steal the title. It's from one of my favorite movies: It Happened One Night, starring Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert. It was made in 1934. And yes, I also stole "Happy Accidents." Another movie (but not as good): Happy Accidents, starring Vincent D'Onofrio and Marisa Tomei. Okay, now I've gone on too long about nothing. REVIEW! Please?