A/N: This is a one-shot set right after Elliot shot Jenna in "Smoked". This story assumes Elliot went to see Olivia that night….and the rest of the events of how they unfolded after are still the same.

I also have another Elliot/Olivia story called 'Semper Fi.' If you haven't checked it out already, please do J

Disclaimer: These two beautiful characters belong to Dick Wolf… lucky dog.

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"Smoked and Mirrors"

He hasn't been back to the precinct. He can't go back…right now. Hell he may never go back. He's been wandering the streets for hours now. He doesn't know what time it is. It's like he's having an out of body experience. He remembers heading to a bar and drinking…a lot.

The bartender recognized him immediately. At one point they were almost friends because he was in there so much. He'd been in there to question suspects before but that's not when they became close. He started going in there when he was separated from his wife. Just a couple of times a week when the thought of going home to a quiet drab apartment seemed like too much. Then his bar visits started to die out when he made some sort of peace with his marriage being over. Then she left. She went to Oregon...and suddenly he was in there everyday. The bartender, Chuck was his name, looked at him during those times with pity as he grieved over yet another woman leaving him. He visited that bar more times in the few months that she was gone than he did in the few years he was separated from his wife. Tonight he managed to stop himself before he got sloppy drunk because he had some walking to do. He had somewhere to be.

He remembers the last time he felt like this. When a case hit him so hard that he was in a daze and seeking comfort. He was going to go to her that night, the night Malcolm Royce confessed to killing his family… but he didn't. Instead he found himself back to what was familiar. What was comfortable. He was at his house in Queens making love to his ex-wife hoping to find some sense of comfort in the depths of her body. The release worked momentarily but by the next morning he regretted it. And 9 months later he had a son and had gone back "home." As much as he loved his son he decided after what happened today he would not make the same mistake again. He was going to go where he wanted to go, where he should've gone the last time.

Shooting Jenna was his rock bottom. He didn't bother to hang around for the suits to show up. He knew the drill. This was the sixth time he's shot someone. He immediately walked into his captain's office, dropped his badge and gun and walked out. She was over with the paramedics and caught in the middle of the chaos when he left and he walked out the back door. Not ready to face her. Not ready to face why he did what he did. He could've shot Jenna in the arm, the leg, somewhere that would weaken her. But her movements and shots were so frantic he couldn't take the chance that Jenna would shoot her while she lay over a dead Sister Peg. And if she killed her he would have stood up and begged for Jenna to shoot him because if she died then he wouldn't be able to go on. Facing that fact is what brought him to the bar and had him drinking glass after glass of bourbon and not even blinking as the dark liquid burned his insides.

She had been calling him over and over. He wanted to answer but felt like he couldn't talk. He didn't want her to ask if he was ok and try to reassure him it was a good shoot. Because it wasn't a good shoot. How could killing a young girl because she could possibly kill the woman you were in love with a good shoot? A woman you are in love with that is not your wife.

There.

He admitted it.

He didn't say it out loud and he couldn't explain that reasoning to her so he didn't answer when she repeatedly called. Instead he finally text her back and told her he was on his way to her place. It was a long walk but he barely noticed. His head was throbbing. He was so tired of thinking.

When he finally approached the steps to her apartment building he felt relieved. Then his phone rang. Shit. It was Kathy..again. He silenced the call. By the time he made it to the hallway outside of her apartment she was calling again. This time he turned the phone off. He knew she was worried. Someone probably called her when everything happened but he didn't want to think about that right now. He was where he wanted to be.

He took a deep breath trying to settle and sober himself before he knocked on the door. After a few tentative knocks she answered the door.

"El, where have you been? I've been calling you all day," she said pulling him inside. "I called Kathy she's trying to get in touch with you too." He said nothing, just looked at her willing her to understand what he wants. What he needs. From her and only her.

She stopped when she saw he wasn't saying anything. "You ok?" And then he's close. Real close. So close that she is inhaling the same air that he exhales. Her breathing has picked up and he's almost panting, locking eyes with her praying and pleading with her to understand why he's there. Hoping she won't make him say it.

"I-I-I just," he struggles to say but the words won't form. So he did the only thing he can think to do. He pulled her in his arms. The hug is similar to the one they shared not long ago when Sonya died and she obliged. He breathed in the scent of her, her hair that faintly smells of vanilla and thrives in the feel of her against his rigid body. She's always been strong but she's so damn soft. A mass of contradictions. He never allowed himself to really feel her before and his already lowered inhibitions are now extinct. His hands slowly travelled lower landing on her waist. Her breathing changed and became short, quick pants. His hands were near the edge of her shirt and he could feel the heat from her bare skin where the shirt rode up slightly. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and put his hands on her skin. He jumped briefly as if he had been burned. The feel of her skin against his rough hands was something he wasn't prepared for and his pants tightened.

"El." It's both a statement and a question. He knows she's sensed the shift. But he just wants.

That's all.

Just wants and needs to touch her.

He ignored her and ran his hands back on forth on her exposed waist. Every touch has a delicious consequence because he's getting more and more turned on. She's tense for a brief second then he felt her relax into his touch. She's mimicked his same rhythm rubbing back on forth on his back. She's making herself believe that he just needs comfort right now but he knows that she knows better. This is different.

He kicked things up a notch and quickly pulled her flush with his body. Their lower halves are making contact and there isn't one inch of his body that's not on her, touching her, feeling her. She pulled back slightly to meet his eyes, the rest of her body firmly against his. She needed to see what was going on with him. To confirm what she was feeling.

He met her eyes hoping she wouldn't make him say it. Hoping she would read him like she always does and the non-verbal communication they thrived on in their partnership would pay off now.

She saw it.

She saw it and it scared the shit out of her. His eyes dropped to her lips and he could see the panic building within her.

"El…" she breathed breaking eye contact.

She tried to look away but her eyes ended up on his lips.

"Please Liv," he rasped begging her with his eyes. "Please just don't think. For once just don't over think it."

He sealed the last millimeter between their lower halves and shifted his hip so she would feel his erection. He wanted her to know just how much he wanted her.

"El I—, "she struggled for the words.

The air was thick with tension and anticipation. They didn't do this. They didn't get this close and they both knew why. They both knew they would pay dearly if they ever gave in. So they made an effort. Everyday they put so much thought into making sure not to touch each other the wrong way and mastered getting just close enough that it wouldn't be too much. They both knew that any wrong move and the wall would come tumbling down.

"Don't think. What do you want to do?" he whispered.

"We can't.."

"Liv. What do you want to do? Right now don't think about anyone else."

He saw the war in her eyes. She always did the right thing and put herself before anyone else. She always had the power to crack him but she never used it. And he loved her for it but right now he didn't want her to put everyone else first.

She didn't answer. Instead she put her head back on his shoulder and resumed their original position. He thought for a split second that she was going to hug him and let go but at the last second she did something he didn't expect. She shifted her thigh to directly make contact with his groin and he moaned from the contact. His hands continued to rub her warm skin and she started to stroke her leg back and forth along his erection. His control was starting to slip. His eyes closed while he waited for her to set the pace.

Her strokes became more aggressive and he spread his legs to help relieve the discomfort he was starting to feel.

"Liv," he moaned and that was her undoing. Moments after he felt her heart slamming against his chest, she placed light kisses along his neck testing the waters. Her mouth needed to touch him. At first she wasn't sure, but once she made contact she couldn't stop. He tasted so damn good. She had always wanted to touch him, every inch of him. To have her hands and her mouth on him. His hands cupped her perfect ass while she kissed a path from his neck to the corner of his mouth.

Her eyes caught his and she stopped again. She was searching his eyes again for something. He stopped his frantic movements to meet her gaze and give her whatever it is she wanted because he did not want this to end. The seconds ticked away but then he sees it. Her brown eyes are like a mirror into his soul. She needs confirmation. Confirmation that he knows what they are doing. They are seconds away from taking their partnership to the point of no return and blowing everything to hell. But they both want it. They both want it bad. She needs the confirmation that they will be ok tomorrow. But he can't give her that. Shit. He really wants to but he doesn't know what it will be like tomorrow. But he can give her one thing, the truth.

"I will always love you Liv. Always." It's all that she needed. He thought he saw tears forming in her eyes but there's no time to tell because she took his hand and walks silently with him to her bedroom.

He's quiet. The only thing audible in the apartment is quick pace of their breaths. Her bedroom is dark except for the light shining in from the street. He hasn't been in here in over a year when he came to her rescue when an ex-con attacked her and set her up for murder. He's only ever been in here for police work. But this isn't police work. This isn't about special victims. This isn't Detective Stabler and his partner Detective Benson. This is Elliot and Olivia, two people who in the midst of all the dark surrounding them everyday managed to find some light in each other.

She turned to face him and he sees the trepidation she felt a few moments earlier has completely faded now that they are in the bedroom. She's more confident and the fear in her eyes has been replaced by sheer want and desire.

She's ok.

She's ready.

He swallowed hard and began to take off his shirt. His eyes never leave hers looking for the slightest bit of hesitation. But her resolve is strong. When his shirt and tie are completely off he sees her eyes dip lower. She's looking at him, taking all of him in. Her chest started rising faster. She licked her lips and he doesn't even think she noticed it. When he reaches for his belt buckle and begins to unfasten it, her breath hitches. He stopped, thinking that maybe this is too far. Maybe she can't handle it after all but she isn't retreating. Instead she started to unbutton her shirt. She's going as slow as he was, watching him as each button reveals more and more of her olive skin. He continued to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants but when her bra comes into view and her shirt hits the floor he stopped cold. He's focused on her ample cleavage almost spilling out of her bra and thinking that his erection is straining against his pants to the point that he is uncomfortable.

When he stopped, she stopped. They watched each other for a few moments before he continued to take off his pants and she does the same. Just as on the streets of Manhattan everyday, their moves are in sync. They become unevenly matched when they are left in their undergarments and she has a bra to take off. He wondered how she would handle it. But she's Olivia. She will handle it like she always does. Her lips lifted into a slight smile as she reached behind her to unbuckle her clasp. She paused for a second before letting the bra hit the floor and her breasts are in full view.

His mouth is dry making his deep swallow painful while he takes her all in. He's a bastard. He knows this but he has to admit that he's watched her breasts with admiration for years. They've been taunting him while she worked across the way from him for as long as he can remember. And now her taut caramel nipples are mocking him and begging for his mouth but he's frozen. He can't move. His erection is evident in his boxers and he can tell she is trying not to look but temptation gets the better of her. She looked down. He took the opportunity to remove his boxers while he wasn't under the intense scrutiny of her gaze.

The sight of his hard length sends a jolt of liquid coursing through her body and between her thighs. He is everything she thought he would be and more. He had always been this force of brute strength in her eyes and as he stood before her completely naked she couldn't help but crave the force of that strength pounding into her.

When she reached for the waistband of her panties he quickly stopped her. "No," he rasped taking hold of her hand and closing the distance between them. "Let me." He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her panties and slowly slid them down her body. He can feel her heart beating wildly only outpaced by his own.

They locked gazes once again and his eyes dipped to her lips. They stood in front of each other more bare and exposed than they have ever been and he took one deep breath before crashing his lips against hers.

The moment their lips touch it's like a volt of electricity hit them both. The pace has gone from languid to frantic and their tongues fight for dominance. He put his hand under her cheek to lift her head more to him so he can get deeper into her mouth. He sucked her bottom lip and moved her back slowly towards the bed. When the back of her knees hit the mattress, she lowered herself and he quickly followed.

She spread her legs to allow him to fit between and his mouth hastily begins to nip and suck on her nipple. She arched off the bed crying out in desire.

"Elliot."

That's all he wanted to hear. Her call out his name in pleasure. He knew she was ready for him. He wanted there to be foreplay. He wanted to take the time to cherish every part of her body but he couldn't wait any longer. She moaned and writhed beneath him from the feeling of his mouth on her breast and he thrust into her in one quick motion.

"Ahh," she cried out. She was tight so he wasn't all the way in. He pulled out a little and worked his way back into her not stopping until their pelvic bones made contact. Once he was all the way inside her, he stilled.

They both exhaled deeply and held on to each other. He rested his face in the crook of her neck and she rubbed the back of his head and neck. He wanted to sit still and she didn't rush him to move. This. This felt like home to him. He felt more at home inside of her than he had in years. He would think about how wrong it was later and how he betrayed his wife and his vows.

But right now.

This was home.

"You feel so good inside me El," she whispered in his ear and he groaned. He had to move. He had to feel the rest of her.

So he did. His first full stroke in and out of her sent her eyes rolling in the back of her head and he struggled not to come. She was like velvet around him and so tight. Her body was like a vice holding on to him tight as he slowly moved in and out of her. She felt every inch of his thick long cock and his pace was intoxicating. Their cadence in lovemaking flowed as it did in every aspect of their life. He knew it would be like this. So wonderfully overwhelming.

He started to feel her small spasms around him and knew she was getting close. He positioned her legs on both sides of hips allowing him to get deeper inside of her and he knew they wouldn't last much longer. His pace picked up considerably and the formerly quiet room was filled with the sounds of their skin slapping against each other and her screams of ecstasy.

She clawed at his back trying to grab hold to brace herself for her impending orgasm but his body was too slick from sweat.

"El I'm-", she cried out desperately.

"I know. I know," he said quickly cutting her off. "It's ok Liv," he whispered and nibbled on her ear. "Let it go."

She shattered around him seconds later and his mouth covered her screams. He felt the tears running down her face and tried to kiss them as his own release took over him. He came hard, his warmth filling her. He stayed inside of her and they said nothing to each other as they both drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

He woke a few times during the night. Each time he took her, took all of her. He kissed and tasted every inch of her body. She was on top of him, underneath him, all over him, inside him. He couldn't get enough of her calling his name and the solace he felt when their bodies joined as one and they went over the edge together. She never faltered. She took everything he gave her and sighed with contentment when she laid in his arms.

The last time they made love was shortly before the sun came up. He watched her while she slept and he couldn't help the tears that fell from his eyes. How could something that felt so right be so wrong? She was the yin to his yang and the other half of him.

She loved SVU. It was her life. But he knew it was no longer his. He couldn't continue to do this but she needed to continue to help the victims. She had to go on even if he couldn't. His tears flowed as he rubbed circles on her back and watched her naked form lying next to him. He couldn't believe he had been inside her. He couldn't believe that she was there laying next to him and they finally crossed the one last boundary that existed between them. He couldn't believe that he would have to leave her. But he had to.

He had to figure it out. Whatever this was in his life that led him to this moment. This beautiful moment that would be permanently marred by the commitment he made years ago to his wife and the job that once brought them together.

He got dressed and stood over her trying to brand that image of her in his brain. He didn't know if or when he would ever see it again. He kissed her on the forehead, lightly on the lips and she stirred slightly but went back to sleep. He whispered softly against her temple, "I love you. I always have. I always will."

With the delicate traces of dawn shining on his face, Elliot walked back out to the same street that brought him to her and headed in the opposite direction with the words he left on a note on her bathroom mirror echoing in his head.

"I WILL come back to you Liv...Semper Fidelis."

He will see her again. He will come back for her. One day when the complications of his life no longer exist and he could do it the right way. Give her what she deserves.

He will come back for her.