Wolf owns them all! Can't I just have one of them, Mr. Wolf. Please. How about that blue-eyed, hot-headed detective who is always giving Cragen a headache? Be happy to take him off your hands...what do you say? I said please...

A collection of post-eps for season 11 that will attempt to explore the depth of the relationship between Olivia and Elliot; that reciprocal emotional dependency between them in which the loss of their interpersonal boundaries have caused them to become so intermingled neither can be certain where he or she stops and the other begins. All they know is that the other is an integral facet of their life, their very survival.

"Detectives Benson and Stabler have a degree of mutual reliance, an emotional dependence that compromises their effectiveness as police officers. They're too close". When Cragen asked her if she recommended he split them up she replied, "If you want to lose your two best detectives". ~ Dr. Rebecca Hendrix ~ February 27, 2007

Benson & Stabler: Too Close

by Bensler

Chapter 1 ~ Unstable

Standing at the double doors of the squad room, Olivia watched him. These last two weeks had been rough. Elliot's demeanor was more than proof of that fact. He was the portrayal of a tired, hopeless, defeated man. The Foster-Tate case has crushed him, beat him down. His physical appearance said it all. A haggard look had replaced the confidence; his once steely gaze, now avoided everyone's eyes; his shoulders slumped, and he had lost weight. He was withdrawn, quiet, docile even – the anger, the rage, gone. So unlike the man she had known for over ten years. Now when he shuffled into a room he was barely noticed, whereas before he arrived with a swagger, full of energy and a magnetism that boldly proclaimed his presence and demanded attention. Yet, he still came to work every day; did his job; spoke when spoken to; asked questions if necessary; nothing more, nothing less. Others may or may not have even noticed the change in him, but his partner did. Olivia knew he had given up.

Two weeks ago rapist, Mark Foster, had died in a fall from the men's room of the SVU squad room. Whether he had taken a dive on his own to avoid prison, or was tossed out by Detective Nate Kendal, would most likely never be known. Most saw Foster's death as justice served. He had confessed to a rape for which an innocent man, Victor Tate, had already spent ten years in prison. Elliot had been the lead detective on Tate's case and he was distraught to learn he had been responsible for helping to convict an innocent man. Upon Foster's confession, Elliot had gone to the prison, apologized to Tate, and told him he would soon be free.

When the new ADA, Sonya Paxton, informed Elliot that Foster's death meant that his confession was null and void, that Tate would have to serve the remaining fifteen years of his sentence, Elliot nearly lost it. He could not fathom having to tell Tate he would not be freed even though they had the real killer's confession on tape. It was not right. The system was screwed up. He was so distressed over it, he even begged Paxton, his nemesis, to tell him what to do; that he would even hire a lawyer to free him. Paxton told him he'd be wasting his money and that unless he knew the governor, there was nothing that could be done. Olivia had never seen him so desperate, bordering on the edge, almost unstable.

All efforts to get him to talk either to her or Huang, or someone fell on deaf ears. He was fine; he didn't need to talk to anyone, he insisted. She knew otherwise. One of her first cases had ended up with an innocent man, Eric Plummer, serving seven years before the fairly new advent of DNA testing cleared him. She had been devastated to know she had had a hand in sending him to prison. Upon his release, he sought revenge and murdered four innocent people, all previous cases headed up by Olivia. His actions and messages made it clear that he was out for Olivia. That situation had culminated in bad blood between her and Elliot because he put a protective detail on her even after she had declined it. It also ended with her first time of using deadly force. Not only had she been partially responsible for Plummer's wrongful incarceration, she had ultimately been the one to take his life.

So, she knew exactly how Elliot felt. Putting on a smile, she approached his desk. "Hey. Almost time to blow this joint. I've been wanting to try that new Mexican place on the next block. How about it?"

She stared at him and his surroundings. His desk was in disarray, much like him. Papers stacked haphazardly; a myriad of folders spread across the desktop; empty soda cans and half-eaten packages of crackers littered the surface; innumerable pens with the tops chewed off were everywhere; stacks of files on the floor nearby – she wondered how he kept track of anything. His jacket hung on the back of his chair, his tie stuffed into its breast pocket. The pale green shirt rolled up to his elbows was quite crumpled. She puzzled at this because she knew Kathy had all his work clothes done at the dry cleaners. His eyes flitted to hers for a mere nanosecond, before he shook his head, and turned back to the computer screen.

"El, come on. I don't want to eat alone," she sighed, her right hand running through her hair.

Noticing his hesitation to answer, she knew he was being pulled in two directions. He did not want to go because he wasn't up to talking, yet he knew how she hated to eat alone and wanted to help her out.

Seizing the opportunity for her advantage, she leaned over, palms flat on the desktop and begged, "Please."

When he looked up, he nearly drowned in her liquid brown eyes and he knew he was had. He couldn't resist. Smiling just slightly, he nodded, "Okay."

Benson - one point.

During their meal there was very little conversation. And that was all right. The last six months or so they had slowly been getting the familiarity of their friendship back. This cocoon of silence was but one of the things she had so missed about them. The easy silence. The one that wrapped around them and sheltered them; the one where no words were spoken because none were necessary. All that mattered was that they were together. In the silence they connected, they rested, they healed, and they drew acceptance, understanding, and strength from one another. And yet they never said a word. There just were. And this was one of those old silences. She took pleasure in it.

The waiter left the bill and Elliot insisted on paying it. She argued, but not much. She realized this was but a small way he had opted to make a decision and assert himself, something he had not been doing the last two weeks. So, she let him pay. When the waiter returned with Elliot's credit card, he pulled it out, signed the slip then stood waiting for Olivia to do the same. They walked out together and she fully expected him to hail a cab. Instead, he turned to her and smiled.

"It's a nice night. Do you mind if we walk?" He seemed almost shy about asking her to walk.

"That'd be fine." She smiled and they turned toward her apartment.

There were quite a few people on the streets. It was dinner time, after all. They dodged in and out of the crowd and finally the crowd thinned out. Olivia sensed him looking at her and when she looked over at him, he grinned. She smiled back.

"Thanks for asking me to come." He gave her a lopsided smile.

When he did that he reminded her of a young boy hoping to get his way with his charm. She smiled to herself at the thought. "Thank you for coming."

Nodding, he looked away and jammed his hands in his pockets. "Look…I know I've been…things have been…off…the last couple of weeks…and I appreciate all you've tried to do, but…" he trailed off.

The sounds of their footsteps slapping the concrete were in perfect sync. Olivia thought how odd that was given how disjointed their relationship had been lately. She wondered if he noticed the sound, too. When he didn't continue his line of thought, she picked it up.

"But? But what?" she prodded, watching their feet as they made their way down the sidewalk. They were nearly to her building.

Elliot stopped. She had taken another step when his hand caught her arm turning her toward him. "I…I can't do this anymore, Liv."

Eyes narrowing, her heart clenching, she searched his face. "You can't do what anymore?"

Releasing a sharp huff of breathe, he chewed first on the inside of his cheek then ran his tongue over his bottom lip before biting on it. Finally, he looked into her eyes, his full of pain, desolation, and slight shimmering from tears that were building up despite his constant blinking. She had never seen him like this and intuitively knew that what he was going to say next would rip her heart from her possession.

"This. SVU. The job…I can't do it anymore."

"Elliot…"

"I put an innocent man in jail, Liv. I'm a joke." His breathing became ragged. "Foster was right. I shouldn't carry a badge."

"El, you are not a joke and Foster was a perv."

"I got the papers in my desk…"

"Papers?" Her heart was pounding against the frame of her body.

He nodded, "Yeah…there's a desk job open in Queens."

Silently, her world came crashing down and she could barely breathe let alone compose coherent sentences. She stared at him. The look on her face must have said what she couldn't because the tears in his eyes now flooded over and started their journey down his cheeks. Quickly his hands rose to his face to wipe them away.

"I-I'm sorry, Liv," he choked out.

Knowing she had to say something to change his mind, she cleared her mind and found her voice. "Elliot, don't do this. You quit, Foster wins."

"I just don't have it in me anymore. I can't keep doing this. It doesn't make any difference, Olivia. There are always gonna be perverts out there hurting people. No matter how many we lock up, there's always another one. I don't make any difference…" He wiped at a trail of fresh tears and turned away from her.

She laughed out loud. Here they are standing in the middle of a sidewalk in Manhattan having this heart-to-heart talk and she is laughing while he is crying.

"No difference? You didn't make a difference for Jackie Landricks? You helped her get her life back, Elliot. How about Tommy Ross? If it hadn't been for you, he never would have been tested for HIV and started meds. Ray Shenkel will never rape another young girl; neither will Gordon Rickett. And Li Mei…you helped find her sister's killer and freed her niece. The way little Tommy Keegan was so attached to you…Elliot, you've done a lot of good. More than you probably will ever know about. You do make a difference."

She wanted to add 'what about me?' He had saved her more times than she could count and in more ways than just physically. He had saved her from herself and her own demons when she would have long ago succumbed to them and been completely lost.

"I-I don't know…I j-just…I just don't think I can live with knowing Victor Tate has got to spend fifteen more years in jail for something he didn't do."

"At least he's still alive," she mumbled.

Elliot looked down at her, knowing what she meant, suddenly sorry that he had caused her to dredge up painful memories of Eric Plummer. "How…how'd you come to terms with…uh…with Plummer?"

Her gaze remained locked in the distance for several seconds before she took a deep breath then slowly lifted her eyes to his. "I haven't."

They stared at each other for a long moment.

"Did you hear back from that attorney friend of Cragen's?" she asked, changing the subject.

He cleared his throat. "Yeah…this morning. Says there is nothing that can be done. The only way is to get the governor to pardon him."

"Then that's what we'll do," she told him. Grabbing his tie in her hand she jerked his head up to look at her. "You hear me, Stabler? Someway we'll get to the governor."

"How? You been dating him, too, without me knowing it?" He was pleased at the way she said 'we' will get to the governor.

Laughing, she released his tie and slapped him on the shoulder. "No. But I might have a friend…"

"Right…the infamous friend," he snorted.

She didn't, but she would sure be asking around in wider circles to find someone who did.

"El…just promise me…those papers…shred 'em," she pleaded as she locked her eyes with his.

"Haven't even filled them out yet," he said as he gave her a reticent smile.

"Good." She smiled back. "Come up for awhile?"

He looked at his watch and she was sure he was going to refuse.

"Guess Kathy expects you home, huh?"

"I don't think so. I'd like to come up for bit…you got coffee?"

"I can scrounge some up, I 'm sure."

Elliot had been the one to make the coffee while Olivia changed clothes. She reappeared in an oversized tee shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Elliot could not help but wonder who the tee shirt belonged to because it swallowed her. He realized then that she had not mentioned dating anyone lately and he wanted to ask. But he didn't. They had made some great strides in finding their friendship again but a question about her personal life may be all it would take to throw it off kilter again. Besides he hoped that after Kurt she would let him know if there was a serious relationship in her life - no matter what conflicting emotions it evoked within him.

Now seated in her living room, she was tucked into one corner of her beige couch, while he occupied the recliner directly across from her. Shrouded once again in silence, they sipped their coffee. Elliot was the one to break it.

"You said you haven't come to terms with Plummer…how…do you…how do you deal with it?" he asked quietly.

Olivia knew this was probably the closest she would come to getting him to talk about his feelings about Tate. She looked at him and then into the dark liquid in her mug. "I killed him, Elliot. He was innocent and I took his life."

"You had no choice, Olivia."

"I know that here," she said pointing to her head, "but this is where it lives, where it haunts, where it hurts." She pointed to her heart.

He nodded. "I wanted to talk to you so bad that night…I called…even came by your place…" his voice trailed off as he remembered standing in the hallway knocking on her door. Then calling again and again.

Lost in her own memories of that rainy night, she whispered, "I know."

"So…how do I…how did you deal with it?"

A heavy sigh prefaced her answer. "I analyzed everything I did and said; played everything over and over in my head until I nearly went insane; second-guessed myself, my abilities and competency to be a cop; I wanted to quit the force; even talked to Huang. Finally, I learned to live with it," she told him, still staring at the coffee. She took a big swallow and looked up at him. "El, do all you can to free Victor Tate, but if you can't…you gotta let it go. Let it go or it'll consume you."

Nodding, he looked away then downed the rest of his coffee. "Yeah."

*****

The man looked across the table bemused by her answer to his question. When he kept staring at her, she snapped out of her fog.

"What?" she smiled curiously.

"I asked if you were still up for that hiking trip Saturday and you said 'no, thank you. I don't need any more wine.'

The heat rushed to her face as she apologized, "I'm so sorry…I…well, I guess that statement is true. I don't need any more wine. I'm already too preoccupied."

They both laughed, but then he leaned across the table, placing his right hand over her left. "You wanna tell me what's going on?"

Giving him a half-hearted smile, she pulled her hand from his and propped her elbows on the table, resting her chin in her hands.

She had not told Dean the specifics of the case and definitely not how it was affecting Elliot. Deciding that he should know because it was now affecting her quite deeply, she began to explain. When she finished, Dean set his glass on the table and shook his head.

"Olivia, I wish you had told me about this when it happened. Remember Joe Philips, the Field Office Supervisor when you went undercover back in '06?"

"Yeah…I remember Joe." She leaned forward keenly interested in what he had to say.

"The governor was his college roommate. They're great friends and I know Joe can get you and Stabler an audience with him," Dean smiled.

"Are you serious? You really think he'd do that for you? That would be great, Dean!" she exclaimed. And maybe then I can have my old partner back, she thought.

"He's retired, but Joe and I still catch a drink or dinner here and there. I'll call him first thing in the morning."

"Oh, Dean. Thank you! Thank you so much!" She went around to his side of the booth, slid in next to him, hugging and kissing him.

*****

Three days later Olivia and Elliot were on their way to the capitol for their meeting with the governor. They were to see him just before lunchtime. Dean and Joe were actually going to have lunch with him. Elliot was a bit uncomfortable about Dean being involved. Not because he would have jeopardized the meeting or anything like that, but because of Olivia. From the first time Elliot had met Dean Porter three years ago, he did not like him. Since he did not know him there really was nothing to like or dislike. It was simply because the guy was obviously interested in Olivia and Elliot was jealous. He had no right to be jealous but that did not matter. He and Kathy were separated; he and Olivia had been at odds because of all the undercurrents of forbidden feelings; and now here was a guy that wanted her attention. He didn't like the way Dean looked at her and he sure didn't like the way he touched her. And she let him. No, Elliot did not like it. At all.

The governor's secretary ushered the four of them into his office. Joe introduced everyone and they talked for just a few minutes before Joe and Dean excused themselves. Elliot thanked the governor for allowing them the time to talk and then carefully explained the case while Olivia showed a video of the evidence. The governor asked several well thought out questions as he looked through the police reports and read highlighted portions from Tate's trial. He asked both detectives if they had been aware that the confession was void if the suspect were dead. They talked about how the system was good but far from perfect. Then he asked to listen once again to Foster's taped confession.

"Since receiving these reports two days ago, I have read them thoroughly. Your presentation today has reinforced my thoughts on this situation. Mr. Tate will receive a full pardon as soon as we can process the paperwork. Most likely within the next few days."

Later that night after Dean had gone home Olivia could not get Elliot out of her mind. She wanted to talk with him, see how he was doing. Her calls went unanswered as did her texts. She called his house and Lizzie acted like she was puzzled that Olivia called there for him. Since he was not at home, she headed for the precinct. It was just after ten and the night had been quiet. She wondered why he was not with his family.

The squad room was dimly lit and just a few people on night duty milled about. The only sign of Elliot was his cell phone sitting on his desk. She could see it was lit up showing all her calls and texts. She headed for the locker room first. It was empty as was the crib. That left the roof so she made her way up the last flight of steps and opened the heavy metal door. It groaned and scraped across the rooftop and she saw his silhouette against the city skyline. He was leaning on the railing, looking out at the city. He didn't turn toward her, but she knew he knew it was her.

Slowly she walked over to him, planting herself to his right as she mimicked his actions. She took in the noise of traffic, people talking, shouting. The night air was breezy with just a touch of a chill. Fall was here.

The silence was familiar, comforting. After several minutes, Elliot nudged her shoulder with his. "Liv, I can't thank you enough for making this happen."

"El…you made it happen. It was your explanations and arguments that convinced the governor. You didn't give up." Smiling, she leaned into him this time.

He grinned back and looked out over the city again. After a long minute, he spoke, "So…you and Porter, huh?"

She knew he did not care for Dean. And she knew why. Sucking in her lower lip then biting on it, she cautiously sneaked a sideways glance at him. His eyes were unreadable, squinted against the breeze but she saw the tension in his jaw. From that she knew no matter how far they had come they were still stuck in the timeframe of Gitano; in middle of their complicated feelings for one another. They were close. He was her best friend. And so much more. She loved him. Maybe they were too close. Maybe Cragen should have split them up years ago. A sharp pain ripped through her heart because she could not imagine her life without him.

She looked out over the city and nodded. "Yeah. But you're my best friend."

And standing on the rooftop of the one-six, she felt his smile and it warmed her from the inside out. Shifting her eyes, she could see the city lights reflecting on his face and she did not miss the sparkle on his cheek. The sparkle as one lone tear traveled the length of his cheek and neck to disappear into the collar of his shirt.

"I'm glad you have somebody," he whispered to the night air, his voice raw with emotion.

Turning, he kissed her on the cheek and the last thing she remembered before she realized she was alone, was the sound of a door closing. Was it the door to the building, or the door to her heart? Whatever it was - it hurt.

~ ~ ~ ~ eoeoeoeo ~ ~ ~ ~