A/N: This will have elements of sci-fi, romance, angst, and some mature content, but I could only label it in 2 categories. Shrug. Also, expect looong chapters. I'm enjoying this one.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything except the written words. Dick Wolf, don't sue me, pal. This is a labor of love!
The ride was short, or at least, that's what it felt like to Elliot, because the entire time, Olivia was straddled over his lap, her nails digging at his scalp as she kissed him hungrily. His hands were up under her shirt, palm to skin, running up and down her smooth back. Soft moans, spat curses, prayers to God and Jesus, and one utterance in Latin filled the air in the backseat. They were thankful that the tinted divider was up, but honestly, they wouldn't have cared if it wasn't.
She growled as she nipped his lips, her hands shoving their way into the waistband of his pants, and just as she was about to wrap her skilled hand around his hard, throbbing length, the car came to an ill-timed stop. The driver knocked on the divider.
"Fuck," she huffed, dropping her forehead to his. "To be continued," she panted, climbing off of him. She smoothed out her clothes, combed her hands through her hair with her fingers, and cleared her throat in a vain attempt to calm down.
He smirked at her, shaking his head. "At least you look presentable," he said, pulling on his pants as he shifted in his seat. "I can't exactly hide this," he gestured nonchalantly at the rather impressive bulge in his rezipped pants.
"Why the hell would you want to hide it?" she asked, brow furrowed, smile wicked. "You already intimidate half the people in there, now they'll know how inadequate they really are." She winked, kissed him again, and got out of the vehicle, slamming the door behind her. She tugged on her jacket sleeves, rolled her head from side to side to ease some residual tension, and walked at a clip toward the security doors.
Elliot had to run to catch up to her, but stepped up to her side just in time to see her press her thumb on a small metal panel, where the door's handle should have been.
She grinned, seeing the intrigued expression on his face from the corner of her eye, and she led him into the building.
The lobby of this place was bustling, busier than the precinct had ever been, filled with men and women in suits, a few in tactical defense gear, black and grey uniforms, and some in black lab coats, milling about and conversing in a way that made the entire room hum. He tilted his head as he followed Olivia, observing the new world around him, wondering why it felt so vastly different, but somehow very familiar.
"Watch your step," she said, not looking at him but yanking him closer to her by his arm.
Both eyebrows shot up high as he watched a small robot zoom by him, and had she not pulled him back, he would have tripped over it. He chuckled in amazement as the bot's head flipped open like a hinged box, and one of its arms reached inside, pulled out a can of Diet Coke, and extended it out to a woman in a black suit. He laughed even harder when he watched the woman pat the bot on the head, and it did a little dance, rolled around in a circle, and then rolled away fast.
"Cute little buggers, aren't they?" she asked, having seen his reaction. "They're IANs."
"Ians?" he questioned, his head still craned over his shoulder, watching the robot continue to dole out soda pops and protein bars.
"Intelligent Anthropomorphic Nano-subordinates," she rattled off, trying not to laugh at the befuddled expression on his face, as if she'd just been speaking a foreign language. In a way, she had.
He snorted, turning his head to face forward as a set of glass doors slid open for them. "So, Ians, then. Yeah, cute."
"Relax," she whispered, resting a hand on his back. "You know what you signed up for, you heard the stories, now you get to live the fantasy."
"I do, huh? So when do you change into the red lace and…" he saw the mildly annoyed yet seductive glare he was getting, licked his lips, and shrugged. "You said fantasy, and I'm sorry, but you...you're involved in every one of my fantasies."
"Oh, I'll be involved," she chuckled. "Just fully clothed." Another set of clouded-glass doors slid open, and Elliot's gasp was more of an audible choke than he'd intended. "Holy…" he swallowed the next word, looking around at the hundreds of monitors lining the walls, the large one front and center, and the keyboards and control panels jutting out from beneath every tenth one or so. He was standing in the middle of a gamer's wet dream. He was stunned, his head turning in all directions, imagining the epic games of SoldierX and Lethal Force he could play in this room. "What is this place?" he asked, his eyes like tea-saucers, the smile on his face so purley innocent.
Her heart warmed at the sight, and she reached out to tug on his tie, getting his attention. When he looked at her, and the ecstatic expression didn't fade at all, she knew she had the same effect on him as the computers. "Control Hub," she said. She pointed to one of the screens on the far right. "That's the Sixteenth, lobby," she said, and her finger moved two monitors over, "Cragen's office," and she moved it again, down two screens. "That's our bullpen, the two interrogation rooms, and the ones around it are all Homicide, Vice, Major Case, and…"
"Hold up," he said, knitting his brows and pressing his lips together, as his weight shifted to his left foot. "All of these are...what, some kind of hidden cameras?" His eyes widened."Cragen's office? What the fuck...if anyone was in this room when…"
"I turned it off," she interrupted, an amused chuckle falling out, "I'm not an idiot." She took his hand and sat him down on the edge of a long, shiny, silver table. She held out her hand and a man in a black and grey uniform, resembling nurses' scrubs, slapped a large remote control into her palm. She hit a few buttons. "Most of these are trained on police stations, government offices, other buildings in the network. Because I am...well...me...there's one in my apartment, and a few in your house, but I never turn them unless I feel it's absolutely necessary, like when you leave the kids with a sitter, or your mother shows up."
"My house? Are you…" his quick anger faded as she raised an eyebrow. "Jesus, yeah, you told me, the, uh...the teddy bears and the picture frames." He scratched his head and pursed his lips. "You, uh, you never turned on the one in the bedroom? Not once?"
She couldn't hide the salacious smile spreading across her face. "Not the live feed," she said, winking at him. "You're getting one hell of a birthday present this year."
"So, you said, your apartment." He took a breath and realized why she'd taken him to this room first. "This is how that asshole got the video of…"
"Yup," she said, not letting him finish the sentence in front of adjuvant personnel. "This is where we monitor our agents. Plant locations, op locations, and homes. Make sure they're always doing their jobs, and if they're not…" she dragged out the word as if singing, and she tapped a few more keys, bringing to the larger screen a live-feed of an older man sleeping on his desk. There was no audio, but the image was clear. She hit a button, and the man's head popped up. He rubbed his eyes and answered the phone on his desk, and Olivia hit another button. The man on the screen jumped high, reactively throwing the receiver across the room, and put a hand over his heart. He looked terrified. Laughing, Olivia looked at Elliot. "Bullhorn," she shrugged. "He needed a wake up call."
Elliot chuckled, but then sobered. "I guess that, uh, that was one of the more innocent consequences." He watched her eyes as they darkened, the light in them fading.
"Depending on the circumstances," she said with a nod, "There are more...severe repercussions." She scraped her teeth over her bottom lip. "Royalty before me took a lot of pleasure in it, took things too far, even when it was completely unnecessary. I take no great joy in doing what...well, what has to be done, sometimes."
He reached for her hand, tangled his fingers in between hers, and said, "You and I, baby, neither of us ever feel right about using excessive force. Even when it's the only way...it still sucks."
She squeezed his hand, and then hopped off the table, tossing the remote back to the man who'd given it to her. She didn't loosen her grip on his hand as she pulled him through a set of sliding metal doors that reminded him of something he'd seen on TV once, in a show about aliens and spaceships.
"We going to your office?" he asked, trying to look through the expansive windows and glass doors leading into the various rooms they were passing. He took a jerking step as he craned his neck behind him. "Hey, were those monkeys?"
"What?" she asked, turning her head and stopping, confused. "Monkeys?" She marched back a few feet, stared into the viewing window with a pissed off scowl, and knocked on the glass.
A woman in a black lab coat turned her head and her eyes bulged behind her thick safety glasses. She pointed at the monkey and shrugged innocently, shaking her head vigorously.
"That's not fucking in the budget," Olivia gritted out through a clenched jaw. She slapped a hand against the wall, hard. "Remind me to call Decker in for a little chat, would you?"
"Uh,sure," Elliot said, raising an eyebrow. "Who's Decker?"
"Oh, honey, she laughed. "I wasn't talking to you." She pointed to the ceiling, watching for his reaction.
A surprisingly human-sounding computerized voice spoke, the sound coming from speakers hidden in the walls. "Meeting tentatively scheduled. Benson's office. Agent Hal Decker. His earliest convenient time is Three-fifteen AM. Set meeting?"
"Three…" Olivia sneered, shaking her head. "Does he even fucking sleep? Uh, no, no. Set meeting for seven o'clock, PM, tomorrow," she said to the Automated Personal Assistant, which seemed to give the entire building consciousness.
Elliot laughed, overpowering the confirmation coming from the speakers, and he said, "What's that, like a really smart version of Siri?"
Olivia raised a brow as they stopped in front of another pair of metal doors. She took what looked like a credit card out of her pocket and swiped it through a security panel, and then pressed her thumb on a red-lit button. "Our program makes Siri look like a toy, baby."
The button's light turned green, the doors opened, and Elliot's eyes bugged out, yet again. "Woah," he huffed, looking around the room. It's marble walls were filled with crowded bookshelves. Huge floor-to-ceiling windows covered by deep-red velvet curtains tied back with gold tassels filled the spaces between the bookcases. The glass was so clean and clear it almost seemed as though there weren't any panes at all. Hand-carved wooden chairs were peppered around glass topped tables, which he realized were actually some sort of touch-screen computers. He could see the text, images, and small monitors glowing near the streak-free surfaces.
"Research and Development," she whispered to him, "And I come in here when I'm bored, just to read." She shrugged. "Or, uh, I used to. Haven't really had time to be bored in the last couple of years." She smirked. "Three, to be exact."
He chuckled. "Yeah, I've kept you pretty fucking busy, haven't I?"
"Between work, and you and the kids...no wonder I have a horrible coffee habit," she teased. She guided him up a spiral staircase, and she noticed the awe on his face as his hand smoothed over the wooden banister, the carvings and etchings making his fingers roll and bob as they moved. "Beautiful, huh?"
He looked up, smiled warmly, and said, "Yeah, you are." He winked. "So's this...this place, baby. It's amazing." He followed her down a long, quiet hallway, and when she came to a stop, so did he. He watched her as she moved slightly to the left and a red beam of light hit her face, dragged down the contours of her features, and then turned green and disappeared. He heard a buzz and a soft click, and the door in front of her opened. "What just…"
"Retina scanner," she said, walking through the door and into the room. "Same system they use at the NCIS HQ in Quantico, to access MTAC." She walked around a large cherry-wood desk, plopped into a comfortable looking cushioned chair, and held out a hand as she said, "Have a seat."
"This is one fucking amazing office," he said, sitting in a smaller version of Olivia's chair in front of the desk. "That view is…" he shook his head as he stared out of the picture window behind Olivia, the buildings lit up against the cotton-candy sky, the sunset smiling back at him. "It's incredible."
"Yeah, I wish I used this place more often," she chuckled. She opened a drawer and pulled out a thick file. "You...have been nothing but trouble," she laughed, dropping the folder to her desk. It landed with a loud thud. "I mean, an incredible asset, but trouble."
He gave her a smug grin, smoothed a hand down his tie, and said, "You fucking love trouble." He watched her nod at him, and then said, "How am I trouble, exactly?"
"Wicked temper, arrogant attitude, resistant to authority, selfish streak," she listed, "All things that make Ed Tucker your personal hemorrhoid, and make Cragen want to drink again, but they make you one fucking amazing cop. Those qualities...they make you who you are, and you've given me nothing but trouble...because I think we both know I wasn't supposed to fall in love with you, I wasn't supposed trust you enough to tell you all of the shit you know, so, yeah, you've caused some trouble."
His smirk became a very satisfied smile, and he said, "Well, I didn't exactly plan to fall in love with you, either. I didn't plan to have an affair, get my kids to love you almost as much as I do, get my ass handed to me at work because you're just as reckless as I am…" he cleared his throat. "You caused your share of trouble, Benson." He pointed to the ceiling. "But you get away with it, for reasons."
"Now," she said, flipping open the folder and signing the bottom of the very first page, her signature large and swirling, "So do you." She turned the thick file to face him and offered him the pen. "Sign it," she demanded.
Without any hesitation, he took the pen out of her hand and signed his name, with quick slanted script, and after he firmly dotted the i, he tossed the pen down. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked, not even looking up, just knowing what sort of look was on her face.
"You just...I mean, you didn't even…" she cleared her throat. "It took me four months to even consider signing my life away, a lot of thought, and doubt, and you…"
"I'll be with you," he interrupted. "You explained this job, you told me exactly what was waiting for me, how and why I'd be asked to do this, and that I'd be with you. You, do you get that?" He licked his lips. "You took time to think about it because it was some life-altering thing for you, right? You didn't even know I existed when you signed your contract. As for me? Honey, the minute you walked into my life, you became my life, and I am your partner, for better or worse, in every possible way. When you told me about this, there was no question, I don't trust you in anyone else's hands." He leaned closer to her. "You've become my best friend, my family, my lover, my soulmate, and I've already made it clear to anyone who fucking knows us that in any situation, if I have to make a choice, I will always choose you. So this decision? It was easy for me. If you asked me to follow you into Hell, I would."
She sniffled as she looked at him, the truth in his eyes, the honesty lacing every word that had spilled from his lips. She wiped her eyes, not even fully aware she'd been crying, and nodded. She whispered, "Well, good, because you just did." She laughed through her softly falling tears, and she took a deep breath. "You ready?" She kept her eyes on his, using all of her training to discern any doubt in them. She watched him nod firmly, and in his eyes she saw no faltering whatsoever, only certainty, and love. "All right, then. First things first," she opened her top drawer, picked up and held out a small square of black plastic, resembling a thick car alarm remote. She flipped a switch on the side, pushed a button, and the center of the square began to glow, a red light illuminating beneath and through the surface.
"What do you want me to do with that?" he asked, shifting in his seat.
"Put your thumb over the red light, press down, keep it there until it turns green," she instructed. "I'm putting you in the system. It'll scan your fingerprint and load any intel we already have on you into a personnel file, give you a title, and security clearance." The light turned green and she held the device in her hand until it beeped three times. "Welcome to the club, Agent Stabler." She winked at him.
"I'm gonna be honest, I expected more, uh, bells and whistles," he said, seeming disappointed.
She rolled her eyes. "There would have been, if I didn't already involve you. I'm letting a few of the probative things slide." She put both of her hands on his shoulders. "I'm putting you in the field, effective immediately." She squeezed his shoulders and heard him moan, watching his eyes slide closed. "Of course, you have, uh, certain duties to fulfill that no other agent does, though. They're...high priority. Can you handle it?" Her hands moved, ripping down his chest, making him moan louder.
"Fuck, yes," he said, and again he didn't hesitate. His hands flew to her waist, his fingers pulled her shirt out of her pants, and his mouth attached itself to hers. "Cameras," he mumbled against her lips.
"Not in my office," she moaned, leaning backward as he got out of his chair and pressed himself into her. She moaned again, feeling his teeth sink into her neck and his hands pull at her pants. "God, Elliot," she seethed, his teeth biting down harder on her flesh. Her head fell back, her mouth fell open, and she hooked her legs around his waist.
He worked his way out of his own pants and they fell into a crumpled ring around his ankles. He moved fast, not needing any further enticement, still worked up to a rigid tension from their half-tryst in the car. He grunted as he thrust his hips, making her cry out his name and dig her nails into his back. "Oh, fuck, yeah, baby," he panted, beginning to move, powerfully hard.
They didn't get far, not even close to being able to bring each other over the edge, before a low-toned beep sounded, and Olivia groaned. She dropped her head to his chest, feeling him begin to move slower, hearing him sigh and whisper her name. "Benson," she said, accepting the incoming communication. "Go."
The same voice they'd heard in the hallway spoke to them. "Benson, I have intel regarding a security breach that took place at six-forty-five PM, location Sixteenth Precinct of the New York Metropolitan Police Department, Special Victims Unit, sector three, console twenty-seven."
Elliot snorted once, still thrusting into and out of his lover slowly. "That's very specific," he said, and then he lowered his head and kissed her neck again. He heard her moan his name softly and he grinned.
"Report," Olivia said, hoping it didn't sound too painful or too pleasurable, the last thing she needed was the APA system sending a Medic team into her office right now.
"Source code found in sector nine, console seventeen, authorized user Stanley Altimar, Detective Third Grade, Traffic and Transit Division. Unauthorized user Brody Nelson, accessed terminal via malware implant uploaded via ComStat data server, initiated unauthorized communication with Agent Elliot Stabler, commenced vulgar and abusive correspondence, distribution of pornographic personal surveillance footage, threatening dialogue, and unauthorized offer of agency employment. Will be waiting for directive, Benson."
"Thank you," she said, trying to suppress her moans. Elliot had picked up speed again, slamming into her with force, making their skin slap and bones hit together. They heard the beep, telling them communication with the APA had been cut off, and she let out a growl she'd been holding in for far too long. "Elliot, baby," she cried, "Fuck, I'm gonna cum."
"That's the fucking point, baby,' he ground out. He worked harder, faster, and he felt her pulsing around him, tightening, keeping him from moving at full speed. He rolled his eyes when he felt her walls throb, gripping him, and he crashed his mouth into hers, catching her scream as she came. He wasn't far behind, working through her tight clamping to thrust one final time, and then he stilled, allowing himself to curse and moan into her mouth as he shot hotly into her.
Panting hard, they ran their hands over each other's body, kissed softly, calming each other down. When she could breathe, she pulled her head back. She smiled and kissed his wrist as he brushed her damp hair back, and she said, "We have to go." She kissed his chin. "Back to the One-Six, before Cragen thinks we're…"
"Off fucking somewhere,' he finished, smirking. He kissed her again. "What did Alexa say to you?"
She rolled her eyes and whimpered in protest when he pulled himself out of her. "It's not Alexa, please. Like Google could get its hands on our technology," she spat sardonically. "We know who hacked into the system, we know who was talking to you, who forced you into…"
"No one forced me into anything," he said, pressing his lips gently to hers, again. He fixed his pants and tucked in his shirt, watching her do the same with a lustful glare, his dick twitching and coming back to life. "Who was it, and when can I kill him?" he asked, taking a deep breath.
She hopped off her desk, raked her hands through her hair as she walked across the room, and pressed her thumb to the panel on the inside wall near the door. The door opened, and she pulled him over to her by the collar of his shirt. "Patience," she said, pushing him into the hallway. "Turn around and look directly at that little red light. It'll hurt, but you have to keep your eyes open." She stepped aside.
Elliot straightened up, looked forward, focused on the light, and when it ran over his eyes, he didn't even flinch. When it turned green, he heard the door lock. "I have access to your office?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"You're special," she said, smiling. She walked with him, in sync, hand in hand, back the way they came. She told him, "You'll have a card-key by tomorrow, and expect an, um, interesting phone call in a few minutes." She guided him back through the expansive library, the long hallway, the control room, and the lobby, and she laughed when he bent down to talk to one of the IANs. "El, you have one of your own, now. Baby, you can play with him later."
He got to his feet. "Get to play with you, later, too, right?"
"We just…" she stopped, knowing all about every aspect his life before her. She knew that, for years, he had to stifle his urges and ignore his sexual appetite, how he had so many kinks and fantasies he had to hold back for so long, more inhibitions that he could stand. Now that he had an outlet for it all, and someone who understood, took it all, and gave it right back, she couldn't deny him. She rolled her eyes and chuckled, giving into him. "Of course you do."
He gave a victorious laugh, and just as they moved through the final set of glass doors and stepped outside, his cell phone rang. He looked at her, her expression seemed to say I told you so, and he answered the call as a man in a black suit opened the back door of the car for him. "Stabler," he said, sliding along the seat. He wrapped an arm around Olivia as his brows knitted. "Yes, I did, but I thought…" he blinked. "Oh, well, um, yes. Thank you. When do I have to...oh, really? Is that legally...oh, well, great then. Thank you." He hung up and he turned his head. "You knew this was going to happen?" He saw the look on her face and his eyes widened, sparkling at her. "You did this, didn't you?"
She nodded, and then turned to look at the window as their driver sped off toward their precinct. "I told you," she said. "You're special."
A/N: Raised more questions than answers, but come along for this ride, and all will become clear. What happened? Who called him? And what about those monkeys?
