AN: I appreciate the reviews and all who've welcomed me back!
Elliot has spent a good portion of the day actively avoiding looking his partner in the eye or taking a breath anywhere near her. It was a good, no…great, no…perfect plan. In his mind it was an absolutely perfect fucking plan.
That is, until Cragen ordered them to surveil a house where a rape suspect is known to frequent for drugs when he's not preying on women.
They park half a block down the street. Far enough to be inconspicuous but close enough to see who comes and goes. And fortunately, adjacent to a park with nasty but public restrooms to relieve themselves. The late spring night is dark and wet but unseasonably warm for New York City. So, the windows remain down, and both are thankful to be able to breathe air that doesn't smell like his cologne or her body lotion.
While she seems to be taking things in stride, calmly sipping her coffee and periodically taking a closer look with some binoculars, her partner is anything but.
He can't be still.
Between tapping on the steering wheel with his index finger, shifting in his seat or popping his knuckles, he's a bundle of nerves.
"How long do you think 'til he shows?" Elliot asks.
Olivia looks at her watch and the sparse activity around the house.
"It's only just past 9 o'clock El," she answers. "The later it gets the busier it'll get, we're early."
"Great…that's just great."
"What is your problem?" Olivia asks him. "We've done this a million times and you're acting as if this is your first stakeout or you'd rather be anywhere else."
He finally meets her eyes for a few seconds but quickly returns his focus to the street.
"Is that it?" She asks. "You have some place you need to be?"
"No."
"Then what?"
"How…how are you so fucking calm?" He asks. "I mean…we had sex Olivia, we had…a whole hell of a lot of sex!"
"Jesus Christ, Elliot!" She yells. "Why don't you scream it a little louder, maybe they didn't hear you in the Bronx!"
He takes a breath, releases the death grip he didn't even realize he had on the steering wheel and rests both hands in his lap.
"Sorry," he says, facing her. "I'm just finding that trying to put this behind me has been easier said than done," he adds. "I didn't sleep that well at all last night and I was distracted most of the day," he explains. "My focus was much better when I'd only imagined seeing you naked."
"Wow," she manages.
An old Ford Escort pulls up to the surveilled home, the guy that gets out is gangly with long, dark hair. Not even close to their suspect's description.
"Despite what you seem to think, it hasn't been easy for me either," she admits. "You're not just my partner, you're the longest relationship I've had with anyone other than my mother," she adds. "The person I'm closest to, the next of kin in my personnel file, my…organ donor."
Elliot laughs despite himself.
"Don't make jokes," he manages. "I blame you."
"What?" Olivia asks, incredulously. "How the hell is this all on me?"
"You're the one who invited me over."
"To watch the NHL playoffs Elliot, not to—
"Fuck on every surface of your apartment?"
Olivia massages her temples with her fingers, shaking her head of the instant mental pictures as she turns away from him and refocuses her attention on the job.
"I didn't answer the door wearing a sexy dress, smelling of my most expensive perfume, or playing Marvin Gaye," she begins, still focused on the task at hand. "And I didn't prepare a nice dinner, ending it with a champagne toast."
"Is that what you do?"
"The point is…I wasn't aiming for a night of seduction," Olivia tells him. "I invited a friend over to watch something we both enjoy because I thought it'd be fun," she continues. "There's no way I could've predicted everything that happened afterward."
"That makes two of us. And it was fun, the game I mean…it was fun to watch with you," he clarifies. "It's been a year since the divorce, my dating life has been sporadic at best and on those weekends where I don't have Eli it gets…well, let's just say I was more than happy for the invitation."
"That why you kissed me?"
Just then the radio crackles to life, advising the detectives their rape suspect has been apprehended by Vice in a Staten Island drug raid. He'll be processed in central booking then taken to The Tombs. Cragen calls shortly after letting them know questioning can wait until morning.
"I can drop you off at home," Elliot offers. "No point in driving all the way back to the station just to take the train or a taxi."
"Okay."
It only takes twenty minutes before he's stopping at the curb in front of her Midtown apartment building. And as elated as she is to have the day over with, there's something Olivia needs to know.
"You never answered my question."
He could pretend not to know what it was, but Elliot knows she'll only repeat it. Stalling for time won't help.
"It was just…one of those perfect moments where everything lined up."
She furrows her manicured brows in confusion.
"It was a good night…good food, good game, great company," he explains. "We made each other laugh, you smiled and I…just felt such a strong pull," he goes on. "And it's not like I haven't felt it before but—
"You weren't in any position to do anything about it or at the very least…you didn't think I'd reciprocate."
"No, I didn't," Elliot admits. "But the way you looked at me that night, like you were seeing me as something other than partner or friend or organ donor," he continues with a grin. "I just…I saw you as more than that too and I couldn't stop myself."
Olivia takes a few moments to process all that he's said, knowing how uncharacteristic these moments of complete honesty are for them
.
"So…why'd you kiss me back?" He asks.
"Can't say my reasons are all that different from yours," she responds. "We've always had chemistry Elliot so I can't deny that I was seeing you in a way that was less than platonic," she tells him. "I kissed you back because in that moment…I couldn't think of a good enough reason not to."
"If this was just mindless sex Liv, and we both agreed it shouldn't have happened," he begins. "Then why was this day so damn hard to get through?"
"Can we just chalk it up to lust or dry spells for both of us?"
"You really think it's that simple?" He asks. "Because it wouldn't explain the last time we-
"I know," she interjects, tired of being overwhelmed with vivid mental pictures.
"Or the kiss at your door the next morning."
"I know," she repeats, calmer.
Olivia takes a deep breath, rubs her right temple before resting her elbow against the door frame.
"I'm tired Elliot," she says. "I don't have the energy to dissect all the why's let alone what the answers could lead to."
"Then I guess I'll just see you tomorrow."
"Yeah."
Elliot reaches out covering her hand with his, pausing her exit with his touch.
"Liv?"
"Yes El, you'll see me tomorrow," she assures him, squeezing his hand momentarily before stepping from the car. "I'm not going anywhere."
They spend the next day trying to avoid lingering eye contact. Olivia doesn't bring him coffee when she gets up for hers because they'll brush fingers with the hand-off. Elliot doesn't put his hand on the small of her back when they leave to interview a witness. And when Fin suggests they join he and Munch for drinks at the end of a long week, they quickly decline, garnering strange looks from their colleagues.
"Gotta pick up Eli," he offers, shuffling folders before putting them in his outbox. "It's my weekend."
"Raincheck guys," Olivia excuses.
"You got a better offer?" Munch asks. "A hot date maybe?"
Elliot's eyes snap in her direction, waiting for a response.
"Absolutely," she answers. "With a bottle of wine and my Netflix subscription," she adds with a smirk.
He tries to hide the relief in his eyes, but she notices.
"Let's go old man," Fin says to John. "You're buying the first round."
"You know, if we had our own bar, we wouldn't have to worry about that," Munch points out.
"Here we go," Fin says.
"A place that's for everybody, not just cops," he continues. "A classier establishment with great lighting that morning after regrets can't be blamed on."
Olivia laughs.
Elliot shakes his head as the two men walk towards the elevator.
"Did I leave my jacket in the car?" She asks, watching him shut his computer down.
"Nah, you put it in your locker when we got back."
"Thanks."
Olivia heads upstairs and when she returns grabs her purse from her bottom desk drawer.
"Enjoy your weekend," she tells him, moving towards the box on a string.
"Hold on," Elliot says. "I'll walk you out."
It's been a week and they haven't touched one another or so much as held eye contact for too long. They also never finished the conversation regarding the night they spent together in Olivia's apartment.
"You and Eli have big plans for the weekend?"
He smiles, shakes his head in the negative.
"Not really, the Children's Museum, whatever movie he's attached to these days, reading with him so he can work on building his vocabulary," he responds. "And he loves trains so maybe I'll get him a new one."
"Daddy stuff."
"Yeah," he nods. "Daddy stuff."
As much as he wants to talk about what happened, he also knows she'll shut him down just as soon as he breaches the subject. Perhaps she figures if they don't discuss it, they'll simply be able to bury it. And maybe their partnership can get back to the status quo.
But Elliot has realized something. He doesn't want things back the way they were. Yes, they screwed the first few times. But their last encounter was different.
He slowed down and every kiss, every caress was an effort to learn her body. Elliot now knows what makes her moan and cry out. He was only awake for a few minutes before his alarm went off. But it was long enough to remember how good his partner felt in his arms.
No one seems to be wise that anything has changed between them. They sufficiently close cases and they've argued less during the last week than they have in the entirety they've known each other except maybe their first year. One might even say they were getting along better. That in and of itself should be a dead giveaway but perhaps everyone is just enjoying a consistent truce.
Guess there's something to be said for rupturing the bubble of sexual tension. Although, how do you get something you've wanted for so long…and not want more?
"Liv," he begins, as the elevator doors open. "I know you don't wanna talk about what happened."
"But?"
To their surprise the car is empty once it reaches their floor.
"I just wanna make sure we're okay," he answers, taking a step closer.
"We're fine," Olivia assures him. "We just…need time is all."
"You think this attraction between us is just gonna wear off?" He asks, moving towards her again.
"We can't have a 'friends with benefits' type of partnership Elliot," she contends but makes no move to recreate the space he's taking.
"I know," he says, closing the distance before reaching for her hand. He leans in, touching his lips to her right ear. "I want more than that," he whispers.
Her pulse races, his mouth waters.
Before she realizes what she's doing and where they are, Olivia's other hand is on the back of his neck and she's turned her face towards his. There's a slight hesitation before their lips connect, slowly and tenderly sliding against each other's before he opens her mouth, tasting her again.
For long moments Olivia allows herself to forget the walls she's spent the week rebuilding. His hands frame her face as hers drop to Elliot's back, pulling him against her. They kiss as if it's natural, as if they've had years of physical intimacy together instead of just one passionate unplanned night.
When the elevator jolts them to a halt, she takes her hands off him and steps back like she's been burned.
"Damn you," she rasps, hand over her mouth trying to catch her breath. "Shit," she adds rushing off the elevator the second the doors open.
"Liv, wait!"
She's halfway across the lobby before he catches up to her.
"Wait?" She asks, incredulously as she stops to face him. "Wait for what Elliot?"
"To talk," he answers. "We can't keep pretending."
Olivia looks around nervously as a few stragglers from other detective units move past them to leave for the night.
"We've been pretending a hell of a lot longer than just this week," she rasps. "Things are back to normal so let's just…let's not do this okay?"
"Normal?" He questions. "What just happened was anything but."
Wordlessly, they agree that talking about something so personal within the walls of the precinct isn't the best idea. Elliot follows as she continues beyond the double doors and outside into the night. They stop when they reach his personal SUV about a block away, leaning shoulder to shoulder against it watching the street traffic.
"Why are you pushing this?"
"Because I know it's not just me," he surprises her with. "It wasn't just me last week and it sure as hell wasn't just me five minutes ago," he says. "Look…I know it's messy."
"It's more than messy, Elliot," she tells him. "You're talkin' about the end of our partnership," she adds. "Do you even know what the hell you want?"
"I want…" he begins but can't finish.
"See," Olivia says, turning to face him. "You may not know but I do," she tells him. "I want your face on the other side of my desk come Monday," she begins. "I want your name next to mine on our case files," she goes on. "I wanna keep saying 'I'm Detective Benson and this is my partner, Detective Stabler', like we've been doing for over a fucking decade."
She moves to walk away, and he puts a hand around her elbow, dropping it after seeing the look of determination in her eyes. Even though they had an incredibly recent saliva exchange, Olivia is confident that she's made her point.
"Liv I-"
"Don't you have to pick up your son?"
"Shit," he says, eyeing his watch. "I gotta go."
"I know."
"But Liv—"
"Like I said Elliot," she interrupts. "We're good. Things have been working between us as they are for a very long time," she continues. "Last week is no reason to change that."
"I disagree."
He holds her eyes for long moments before Olivia notices his gaze slip to her lips then he's unashamedly trailing her body from head to toe with a predatory glare. By the time he's finished she's slightly flushed as if he's used his hands and judging by the smirk on his face, the man sure as hell notices.
Speechless, she simply watches as he climbs into his Grand Cherokee.
"We'll talk more later," he rasps after powering the window down.
She's left standing alone in the street staring after him and wondering what the hell just happened. The way Elliot looked her over, Olivia has the feeling that what she said and what he heard are two very different things. She was clear on wanting to put the walls back up and keeping them there.
But if her body continues betraying her, Elliot will only take it as a personal challenge to change her mind.
"Fuck."
END A/N: For some strange reason Elliot is having trouble believing Olivia wants to return to the comfort and complacency of their awesomely platonic partnership. Could be that she keeps allowing his tongue in her mouth but hey, maybe it's something else, lol. Patience people. The story will unfold when it unfolds. My continued gratitude for those who not only read but take the time to key that all important review.
