A/N: A revelation. A steamy moment. A few kids. A decision.

DISCLAIMER: SVU and related characters/ideas belong to Dick Wolf. Original plot and dialogue belong to TStabler©

Olivia hurled herself on the couch. She was bored, lonely, antsy, and anxious. She'd done every scrap of laundry in the house, including socks that she knew had holes in them or were missing their mates. She'd cleaned, thoroughly cleaned, every inch of the townhouse. People could eat off of the kitchen floor.

She'd watched daytime television for the first time in her life, and she didn't understand what other women got out of it. She scoffed at soap operas, rolled her eyes at some show with a mustached psychiatrist, and she only made it through ten minutes of a cooking show before she realized she couldn't do anything the woman on the screen was telling her to do.

She looked at the clock, sighed, and flipped through the channels, figuring evening television had to be more exciting. That's when she heard the key in the door. That's when she stood up, reaching for her gun, just in case Elliot brought home any visitors.

"Put the gun down," he said without looking at her. He closed and locked the door, hung up his jacket, and walked over to her. He leaned over and kissed her, then settled into the couch beside her.

"You brought everything home, right?" she asked, biting her lip.

He sighed and pulled a few files out from under his arm. "Baby," he said, "Do not get angry, or upset, okay?"

She watched as he slowly handed them to her, and as she read, her eyes watered. "Wow," she said, sniffling. "I didn't think they'd be this..."

"Detailed," he said with a nod. "They are. Honey, they...they really made these look legit. Every time I read them, because I read them everyday, I have to remind myself that you're all right." He ran a hand over her back and kissed her forehead. "This is scary shit," he whispered, tapping the file folder.

She flipped the pages, reading the official account of what happened to her and her apartment, reading the ton of evidence that led everyone to believe it was a cop, or someone with a lot of knowledge about the NYPD. "How did they know what he took, El? I wasn't there to..."

"I walked the scene," he interrupted. "It was hard, I cried, and I punched the already demolished wall, but I told them what was gone. If they didn't recover it, or any pieces of it, I told them it was gone."

"Who would steal pictures, Elliot?" she asked, softly and sadly, looking up into his eyes.

He shrugged. "Just the one's of us, baby. The ones of your mother are in an evidence locker. You'll get them back."

She scoffed. She rubbed her eyes and closed the file, then flipped open the next one. She gasped, looked up at Elliot, and said, "Seriously?"

He nodded. "He's actually...uh, he's at the top of the list, baby. Porter even thinks..."

"Why?" she asked, hurt. "Why would he try to..."

He pressed a finger to her lips and shook his head. "If I knew that, I'd arrest him. He's who the evidence is pointing to, Liv. He even has a photo of you and me, one I know was in your apartment, on his desk."

She narrowed her eyes. "Well, that's enough to get a..."

"No, it's not," he said, shaking his head. "It was taken at the Black and White Ball last year, anyone could have the same photo.

She grumbled and flipped the page in the file. "You think he did it to keep us apart? Because he found out about us and got pissed off, or..."

"I told you, I don't know," he said gently. "We have a few more suspects, honey, I just...my gut tells me he did this." He looked at her and asked, "Why else would he have followed me home? Why would he think you're still alive? He wants a body, Liv. He needs to know you're dead."

She took a breath, closed her eyes, and said, "So we'll give him a body."

He furrowed his brow. "What are you..."

"Tell Porter to talk to Melinda. I'm sure there's a Jane Doe somewhere in that morgue with brown hair, brown eyes, who had a similar body type. El, if he needs to have a body, give him one. It may make him give you a better reason to think he did it."

He kissed her, smirking against her lips. "You are really..."

"Pissed off," she finished, smirking back. "Someone tried to kill me, and I need to help you find out who. If there's a body, the perp is more likely to give you signs of his victory." She looked into his eyes and said, "Those notes, El. I need to read them."

He nodded and handed her another file. Several typed notes, in different sizes on different types of paper, were ordered by date. Each one gave a detailed account of how much fun it was to watch her blow up, and each one asked how Elliot felt knowing the only person he ever really loved and trusted was gone.

He watched her read them, feeling horrible as the slow tears rolled down her porcelain cheeks. He thumbed away the droplets, and pulled her close, letting her read them as she dropped her head to his shoulder.

"Hey," she said, suddenly popping her head up. "El, this one...look, didn't Cragen say the same thing when he left last night?"

Elliot took the note out of her hands, read it, and let out a strangled, angry noise. The words, "Move on. Let her go," looked up at him, after a particularly awful note describing what the man would have done if Elliot had been with her that night, what he would have made Elliot watch. "Damn it," he said, shaking his head. "See, this is why I decided to let you in on this," he said, kissing her temple.

He got up to call Porter, and Olivia flipped through the rest of the files, watching the face of old perps with a grudge blend with those of people she trusted.


An hour later, Olivia was asleep with a file on her chest, and Elliot had hung up the phone. He walked back over to the couch and chuckled, shaking her lightly.

Her eyes opened and she rubbed the sleep out of them, sitting up. "Sorry," she said.

"For what?" he laughed. "Porter said he'd talk to Melinda. She has to sign a confidentiality form and a contract, but this could work."

She nodded and ran both hands through her hair. "Good," she said, looking up at him.

"Listen, baby," he began, looking down at her. "I have an idea. Porter's against it, but you...it's gonna mean...it could be dangerous if..."

"Spit it out," she barked, nervous.

He brushed the back of his hand over her cheek and said, "I need you to help me get him. I know how we can get to him, but you might not wanna do it. If he sees you, like...thinks he's seeing you..." he paused, blinking, and said, "You might not be ready for this. Forget it."

She looked up at him and shook her head. "What are you talking about?"

"Tomorrow, okay? I'll explain it tomorrow. You cleaned," he said, looking around. "You're getting all domestic on me," he chided.

"I was bored, El," she moaned. "I can't stand being in the house anymore. I need to..."

"Shh," he hushed her. "You and me, shower, bed. We can work on the case tomorrow."

She nodded, getting up, and he took her hand. She let him lead her into the bathroom as she asked, "How did your meeting with Huang go?"

He turned, letting go of her hand as he turned the water on, making it hot. He pulled his tie and shirt off as he told her. "I got a lot of shit off of my chest," he said. "I cried, I yelled, I think he wanted to have me sedated. It was great."

She ran her hands over his back as he stood up, and she dropped gentle kisses to his shoulder blades. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, pecking his spine lightly.

He turned and cupped her face. "Don't," he told her, staring into her eyes. "None of this is your fault." He kissed her slowly, moving his hands to lift her shirt over her head. He chuckled when he saw she wasn't wearing a bra, and he moaned lightly as he pulled away from the kiss and saw her full breasts staring at him.

She smirked and said, "I'm home all day, why wear one?" She knew what he was thinking, and that was only one reason why they worked so well together.

He smiled at her, slid down her pants, and held open the curtain. He watched her step in, then shed the rest of his clothes and stepped in after her. He watched the water fall over her, and he avoided the heat rising in his body as he grabbed the body wash. A simply clean scent, so he wouldn't have to explain why he smelled like a girl, filled the room as he squeezed the creamy gel into his hands. He rubbed his palms together for a moment, then smoothed them over her body, starting at her shoulders.

"Feels good," she whispered.

He smiled, but as he watched the suds drip down her back, flowing into the delicately curved crevice between her perfect ass, he groaned. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying hard not to give in, not to make this anything more than a shower, but his hand slid down her back, following the path of the suds. He was reminded of the morning with Huang, talking about her as if she was gone, as if she was never coming back.

She moaned, dropping her head back slightly. "El," she whispered.

He leaned closer to her, flattening his body against hers, his now-rigid member pressing against her lower back. His hands slid around her body, running up her sides, over her toned stomach, making their way to her breasts. He held one in each hand, then, thumbing over her nipples, feeling them respond quickly to his touch. "God, baby," he whispered, "I need you. Now."

She leaned further into him, reaching up and wrapping an arm around he neck, holding him close to her. "Always need you," she whispered.

He gave her nipples a gentle tug, twisting just a bit, making her seethe but knowing she loved it. He ran one hand down her body, following the flow of the hot water to her slit. He ran two fingers up and down, making her moan, making her ache.

"El," she whispered again, her head dropping back further, her hand running through his hair.

He growled softly, moving both hands to her hips and turning her around. He kissed her, almost forceful, and one hand crept up her back, grabbing her short locks. He pulled hard as he nudged her legs apart, and he massaged her scalp, pulling gently on her hair as he pushed into her. His other hand rested behind her knee, holding her leg up, causing him to go deeper, harder.

She moaned loudly against his lips, her hands struggled to find a place to grip, and her nails left streaks of red as she raked them over his flesh. "Love you," she whispered, finding it hard to breathe.

The heat was intense; the steam from the hot water combined with their body heat was stifling. He didn't care; he moved faster, deeper, pounding into her hard and pulling out slowly before doing it again. "Love you, baby," he mumbled, dropping his head to kiss her again. He tugged on her hair, she scratched him harder, and they fell into a trance.

Nothing existed but here, now, them. He needed to know she was alive, and she was his. She needed him to know she wasn't going anywhere, she needed to feel him take over her body, she needed to feel alive.

"Fuck," he seethed, feeling her start to clench around her. He dropped his hand from her hair to her neck, sliding it down over every gentle curve of her body. He stopped to flick at her nipples, making her moan and chuckle, and then he slithered toward his destination. He let his middle finger sink into her working flesh, resting between her and his pistoning rod as he hammered into and out of her. His thumb swiped her clit, slowly twice than quickly twice, a pattern that drove her insane.

"Oh, God," she cried, her eyes clenching closed and her mails digging into his back.

He moved his hips and his hand faster, knowing he couldn't hold on, knowing she was close to exploding, too. "Cum for me, baby," he cooed into her ear, licking and kissing at her neck. He dropped sweet, hot kisses over her jaw line, reaching her lips. He kissed her deeply and muffled their cries and curses as they both fell over the edge they'd been teetering on for close to forty minutes.

She panted, she laughed, and she opened her eyes. "Water's cold," she said with ragged breath.

He chuckled, reaching down to turn it off, and he kissed her again. "I love you," he said, holding her close.

She wrapped her limp arms around him, trying to breathe as the emotions coursed through her wracked body. "I love you," she returned.


Once they were wrapped in their robes, they walked out of the bathroom, and Elliot sat on the couch while Olivia walked over to the fridge. "I made chicken," she said, tapping the pan on the top of the stove.

"Shit," he laughed. "Cooking, cleaning, what has protective custody done to you?"

"Nothing," she said. "I said I cooked, I didn't say it was edible," she laughed. "It's raw on the top, burnt on the bottom, and it's salty as fuck."

He laughed and shook his head. "Good thing I had a backup plan, then," he said.

There was a knock on the door, and Elliot grinned. He saw Olivia freeze and noticed her back toward the bedroom. "Honey, relax," he said, "It's Friday. It's just the kids." He unlocked the many locks and opened the door, letting four happy teenagers into the living room.

Olivia chuckled and relaxed. "Hey, guys," she said, smiling.

"Hey, Liv," Maureen said, smiling back. "Dad told us to bring pizza."

Lizzie dropped her bag and said, "Mom thinks we all need therapy."

"What?" Elliot asked, confused, as he re-locked the door.

Dickie yawned, then said, "She thinks Liv's...um...death...had a huge impact on us, and she thinks we're hiding our feelings from her because it'll upset her to see us crying over Liv."

"Well, that's your mother," Elliot said, shrugging. "I'll talk to her. I'll tell her that we spend a good chunk of Friday night crying together, how's that?"

The kids laughed as they ran over to hug Olivia, and she looked into each child's face. She wanted so desperately to have a real life with them and their father, and she needed to make the same decision that Elliot had made. She looked up at him and said, "Hey, El," with a smirk.

"What, honey?" he asked, looking up.

She narrowed her eyes, glanced at her badge and gun on the coffee table, and said, "I'm ready. Whatever you need me to do, I'll do it."

A/N: Part four: Morning with the kids, afternoon of badass Benson getting her life back, or trying to, with the help of her partner. Review here, or on Twitter: TMG212