A/N: Hello! This is my first work of fanfiction and I would appreciate any and all comments, reviews, tips, etc. The fic will be in two parts, this being the first. Heed this warning, though, if you don't like the idea of Olivia and Stone, you probably shouldn't be here. Or maybe you should, it's up to you. Thanks for reading!
All characters and their likenesses are property of Dick Wolf and NBCUniversal. The story and situations therein are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit.
Strength in Vulnerability
"Jesus Christ, Olivia. I don't know what to do. I'm…I'm flailing." Peter's voice caught in his throat.
Lieutenant Olivia Benson of Manhattan's Special Victim's Unit was currently sitting on the TriBeCa sofa of her ADA, Peter Stone. She'd come from nearby where she and her unit had been, for the past four hours, painstakingly retracing the path of their latest perp. Her toes were practically numb inside her trusty work boots, her hair was haphazardly pulled into a ponytail, and her black blazer felt constricting. It was late, she was exhausted and felt ragged. She hadn't seen her son in nearly 24 hours, but Peter's phone call sounded desperate. The moment she heard his "hello" over the line, she knew it was personal, not professional.
The lines had been blurred for some time now, personal tip-toeing into professional, professional hurling towards personal. Olivia tried for months to brush off any non-platonic feelings she had for Peter, but it eventually became clear that the pull was too strong, even for her. There was something about him. Something she felt within herself, that she'd never felt with any other man.
One afternoon last spring, after a particularly trying day in court, Olivia pulled Peter into a stairwell off the main hallway.
"I'm sorry, Peter. I don't know what happened up there. I…I've testified hundreds of times. I got distracted. Fuck!" Olivia's hands were waving wildly through the air as she spoke. She was exasperated, mostly with herself.
"Liv. Listen to me," Peter said, as he grabbed her elbows and dipped down to look into her eyes. "You were fine. We did all we could. There was no chance".
Peter's eyes were so sure, so trusting of Olivia's judgement. He was silently begging her to believe in herself and in her performance on the stand, because God knows he believed in her. No one had ever caught her, or calmed her, so quickly. She was her own harshest critic, and moments ago she was blaming herself for losing this case. Yet Peter Stone managed to take that blame away with one look. It took her breath away, and she broke eye contact. Olivia sensed a shift and as she often does when things turn toward the serious in her personal life, she went for a bit of levity and a quick change of subject.
"Do you remember a while back when I caught you nearly shirtless in your office?", she teased.
"Yes, and if I remember correctly you kinda barged in", Peter remained serious.
"Maybe I did, but you knew I was on my way over. Did you have your shirt off on purpose? Were you trying to impress me even then? Because I can still see through your charm". Olivia had a playful twinkle in her eye.
Peter was affected but he knew what she was trying to do: deflect. He dropped her elbows but dipped once again to catch her eyes. "What's going on, Olivia? If you're upset about the case, let's go grab a drink and…"
"It's not the case", she interrupted. With a deep breath and a quick silent prayer, Olivia leaned forward so that their lips were practically touching. "It's not the case, Peter", she whispered, repeating herself. "I was trying to distract myself so I wouldn't do this. But you clearly saw right through me". With that, Olivia closed what little space was left between them and pushed her lips to his.
Peter was taken aback but not surprised by how soft and lush Olivia's lips felt against his. He felt lightheaded, and judging by the tiny buckle of Olivia's knees, he knew she was dizzy, too. Neither of them moved for a few seconds, but then the initial shock wore off and they simultaneously opened their mouths to one another. Peter's right hand curved it's way up Olivia's back and into her wavy locks, while his other hand rested on her hip. His mind was swimming but he did everything in his power not to pull her fully into him. That would come later.
Olivia led this first dance of theirs, her hands unable to remain still. She roamed his back, seemingly memorizing the planes beneath his grey suit jacket, but really what she was doing was alleviating energy through her hands so that she could keep the kiss calm and sensuous. She swept her tongue along the roof of Peter's mouth before lowering it back down to entwine with his. It was passionate, yet slow, and between nips on the lips there were breathy sighs.
As if a switch suddenly flipped in Olivia, her mouth stopped moving and she swiftly pulled back from Peter.
"Shit. I'm sorry, I didn't mean…I shouldn't have…" And just like that, the waving hands and the exasperation came back.
"Hey, hey, hey, do NOT apologize". Peter tried to grab Olivia's hand but she snatched it away just in time.
"I want to do this, Peter", she said with pleading eyes. They both knew this had been building for a while. "I want to, but not here, not when we're working. That never bodes well for me. I should go".
Before he could respond, the heavy door leading out to the bottom of the courthouse steps slammed shut and she was gone.
It wasn't the kiss that played over and over in Olivia's mind as she caught an Uber uptown. It was the moment before. The shift she felt as Peter held her gaze. She knew there was no going back now, and it was going to take everything in her power to not let him break through her carefully constructed walls.
Months had gone by since that first kiss in the stairwell. Months of kisses inside and outside of bars, in parks, in dimly lit alleys after drawn-out dinners, and once…once in Peter's office when both of their guards were down. Peter had just watched his sister die and the only thing Olivia could think to do was kiss his pain away. She was naive to think it would help. For a while it did. In every practical sense, Peter was himself. At least at work. The ADA and the Lieutenant, the law and the order, were balanced, were winning cases, and were putting away perps for good. Olivia kept up her rule of no affection at work—the slip up in Peter's office notwithstanding—although they couldn't avoid standing in each other's personal space every chance they got.
The intimate tension was rising between them, and sometimes that would expel itself in a work-related argument, without fail Peter would always level out and come to her defense, and they'd be balanced again. They both knew they'd work out that tension in heated kisses later. In recent weeks, however, they weren't seeing each other outside of work as much as either of them wanted. Olivia was spending every free moment with Noah, and Peter was…well Olivia didn't know what Peter was doing, but she didn't have time to think about that.
Until tonight.
Olivia reached her hand out to rest on Peter's shoulder. "You're flailing?" She knew where this was going. This was personal. Peter was always poised at work, always on top of his game, but every once in a while she'd catch something in his eye that betrayed the ADA's composed exterior.
Peter was resting his elbows on his knees, his face in his hands. He turned his head and lifted his eyes to look at Olivia, the pain in them immediately evident to the woman sitting next to him. He knew if he spoke the anguish in his heart would spill forth without restraint.
"Oh, Peter", Olivia's heart broke for him without knowing exactly what was wrong, even if she did have an inkling.
Turns out, he didn't have to speak to unleash the tears. Just the sound of Olivia's empathetic voice did him in. He turned fully to her then, all of the pent up sadness he'd been trying to quell since his sister's death racking his body. Olivia took him in one of her all-encompassing hugs and held him tightly. She was reminded of the night in his office when she'd comforted him in this same way. This also felt very much like one of her victims right before they revealed to her their painful past. But this wasn't one of her victims, this was the man she was falling in love with, even if she hadn't let herself believe that yet.
She continued holding him with one arm, the other stroking up and down his back. She whispered an occasional "shh" or "it's okay", her heart clenching and her eyes brimming with her own tears with each gasp of air from Peter. They stayed this way for some time, Peter struggling to compose himself, his tears wetting Olivia's blazer.
Finally the tears stopped and Peter sat back from Olivia's embrace. As he scrubbed his hand down his face, Peter stood up from the couch and started to pace the room. He didn't speak for several minutes, and Olivia sat silently her eyes tracking his moves as she waited for him to collect his thoughts.
He stopped in front of the television that was situated across from the sofa and turned to look at Olivia, both of his arms stretched out at his sides. "I've fucked up". His arms dropped down, making a loud clap as his hands hit his thighs. "I'm fucking up, Liv".
"What are you talking about?", Olivia asked.
No answer.
"Peter? Come sit down. What are you talking about?"
And he did, this time sitting with one leg folded under the other so he could fully face Olivia. He took a deep, cleansing breath and told her everything: how he'd spend hours at a dark bar drinking until he couldn't see straight, the sex with woman both anonymous and not. How it was sometimes more than one woman at a time and how once he even let two of them spend the night. How there were never any feelings involved and the only thing he wanted to feel was pleasure followed by numbness. That the only reason for any of these indiscretions was to forget about how he let down his sister, how it was HIS fault she was murdered. Even if that meant only forgetting for a few hours, or, at most, a night.
'I'm trying to stop, Liv, but I feel like an addict. I feel…I feel like I'm fucking cheating on you for chrissakes!" His voice was shaking.
Olivia took a moment before she spoke. Peter was pouring his heart out to her, and any jealously or anger she felt towards his confession flew out the window when he looked at her with the same pained eyes she saw when they started this conversation.
"Peter," she paused, pressing her lips together, thinking about what she wanted to say. She looked away from him for a second, then trained her eyes back on his. "You should have talked to me". No, that wasn't how she wanted to start, this wasn't about her. She shook her head and started again. "I'm so sorry you're hurting so badly". Her hand flew to her heart. "You can't stay in this destructive pattern forever, and I think the best thing you could have done is told someone about it, and I'm glad you felt safe enough to tell me".
"You're not mad at me?", he asked carefully.
"No, absolutely not. If anything I'm mad at myself for not noticing that you were spiraling down like this. I've seen the sadness in your eyes sometimes at work and I didn't say anything when I should have but I've been so goddamn wrapped up in my own stuff with work and with Noah I didn't…"
He reached out for Olivia's hand. "You're rambling, Liv", Peter smirked for the first time that night. He secretly loved when Olivia got flustered. He turned serious again. "I would never, ever expect you to fix this for me. I wanted to tell you because I care so much about you, and we've been doing this little dance with each other for months now. I want this chaos of mine to stop for you just as much as I want to stop it for me".
"I can help you find a really great therapist. Having an unbiased person to talk to can be invaluable, trust me. And I'm here for you, always.", Olivia said.
"Thank you, I think I'll take you up on that offer. Aside from that, Liv, I want…", Peter cleared his throat and reached up to loosen the knot of his tie, "…I want you to be the person I turn to when I'm in pain. Not some random woman I meet at a bar. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
Olivia could only nod. She knew exactly what he was saying. Still, though, she was fighting the walls around her heart. She wanted so badly to punch through the bricks.
Peter leaned forward and pressed his forehead on Olivia's. He breathed her in then placed a gentle kiss to the spot his forehead had just been resting. "I need to kiss you", he whispered.
"Please". Olivia's hushed tone matched his.
With that Peter captured her plump lips with his, wanting desperately to convey all of his feelings through one single kiss. He cradled her head in his hands, moaning deeply into Olivia's open mouth. Olivia kissed him back with equal fervor, scooting back on the couch never breaking contact. She released her grip on his hips so that she could lay back, resting her head on the armrest. The look in her eyes told Peter everything he needed to know: she wanted to be the person he goes to when he's in pain, too. He climbed over her, straddling her hips, and lowered his body to hers. They've been close, but never this close. They both recognized the newness and let out simultaneous sighs.
"Kiss me again", Olivia practically whined.
Peter didn't need to be told twice as he dipped his lips to hers. She embraced him with both arms from her spot below him, pulling him firmly to her. Peter couldn't help himself as his right hand smoothed down her neck, over her collarbone, and landed on her full breast. He started massaging her before he stopped and asked, "Is this okay?"
He got his answer when Olivia pushed her chest out to meet his hand. She pulled her lips away from his just long enough to respond with a breathy "yes".
Eventually Peter ended the kiss and slid behind Olivia so he could hold her. He knew that the kiss was enough for tonight, that he had conveyed everything he wanted to. Neither of them spoke, both lost in their own thoughts. Olivia was mindlessly running her fingers up and down Peter's well-toned arm. It felt so good to be held by someone again.
"Liv?", Peter asked after several minutes.
"Hmm?"
"Stay with me tonight?" It was a long shot, he knew.
Olivia craned her neck to look at Peter's face. "I can't. You know I can't. I've got a little boy at home who won't be happy if he wakes up and his Mama isn't there", she smiled. As much as she wanted to stay in Peter's embrace, she wanted to get home to her son even more.
"I know, just thought I'd try". Peter winked at her and she almost lost her reserve. Almost. Olivia untangled herself and stood up, straightening her blazer. She reached out her hand and helped pull Peter up so he was standing inches from her face.
"I'm so glad you called me tonight. We'll get through this together, right?"
"Right. Olivia…I can't thank you enough for coming over tonight, for letting me get that all out, for not getting up and walking out on me." Olivia smiled, but offered nothing else, so Peter continued, "You'll be okay getting home? Can I call you an Uber?"
"That'd be great, thank you." And with one more quick kiss, Olivia made her way uptown and home to Noah.
The next day was unchaotic at the 16th precinct and Olivia was grateful. When she got home from Peter's the night before, she checked in on a sleeping Noah, giving him a gentle kiss on the head before retreating to her bedroom. She laid in her bed going over every single detail of their conversation and the make-out session that followed. She couldn't sleep. At 3:30am her phone buzzed—it was Carisi letting her know he and Fin had finally caught the rapist who had been terrorizing the residents around Washington Market park for three nights. Knowing their latest perp was locked up and her Sergeant and detective were safe at home, Olivia finally drifted to sleep.
She relished in the quiet day at the office, nothing more to do than paperwork and a few phone calls. She was physically tired but emotionally energized. She reached for her cell that was sitting on top of her copy of the book Ruth Bader Ginsberg: In Her Own Words. She smiled as she remembered Noah's explanation last Mother's Day that Uncle Sonny bought it, but he, Noah, saw it first and knew that she'd like it, even before Uncle Sonny pointed it out. True or not, the six year old was right. She loved it.
She slipped on her black-framed glasses and quickly typed a text to Peter:
[Olivia]: Hey, quiet day over here at SVU. How're you?
She didn't have to wait long before her phone vibrated with his reply.
[Peter]: Quiet day? Never heard of such a thing. ;)
He was being flirty. Good sign.
[Peter]: I'm good, Liv. Really. Thanks again for last night. I needed to get that all out.
[Olivia]: Happy to help. Plans for dinner tonight?
She was taking a leap of faith.
[Peter]: Leftover Chinese. A bachelor's delight.
[Olivia]: Hah! Sounds good but maybe I could entice you with something better?
[Peter]: What did you have in mind, Lieutenant?
[Olivia]: Relax, Stone. I'm talking about Spaghetti Night with my kid at my place.
Not what he was expecting exactly, but he was thrilled nonetheless.
[Peter]: I'd love that. Can I bring anything? Wine?
[Olivia]: Nope, I've got it covered. See you at 6:30?
[Peter]: I'll see you then. Gotta run to a meeting.
[Olivia]: Aren't you going to ask for my apartment number?
[Peter]: I'm not embarrassed to say I saved it from off the card you sent me after Pam passed. Thought I might need it someday.
[Olivia]: I'm glad you did. See you tonight.
…to be continued.