Christian De La Costa has called and told Elliot not to worry about driving him. He knows that the side effects of his own product aren't conducive to focusing on the road nor anything else.

Elliot takes a cue from Olivia, deciding to take the time to rest as well. He has no intention of letting her go things alone no matter how capable he knows she is. He'll be spending his night at Club Envious watching her back whether she needs it or not.

He steps into his undercover apartment, a shoe box compared to hers. Elliot strips and gets into the shower to wash the scent of his former partner away. Olivia's always smelled unique to him. A combination of something woodsy, flowery, fresh and just…her. He hadn't expected to see her again anytime soon, let alone do anything with her requiring a shower afterwards.

Twenty minutes later he's refreshed and washed but no less screwed up in the head.

Shit, shit, shit.

He sits on his bed, damp from cleaning himself up, towel wrapped around his waist palms pressed into his eyes. As much as he'd like to, he knows running headfirst into a wall will not free his mind from the images that bombard it.

Elliot accepts that there were times during their partnership, especially his marital separation and her stints in Oregon and computer crimes, where he allowed himself to fantasize what being with her would be like. To say his imagination paled in comparison would be an understatement.

Elliot didn't expect to have visible evidence of Olivia's passionate sexual appetite afterwards. Maybe it was just the effects of being drugged that had her so…enthusiastic. If he thinks too heavily about it he'll find himself driving back to her condo for round two-four if he remembers correctly. Or getting back into the shower to release the pressure on his own.

So, he busies himself with putting on his boxer briefs and grabbing two sleeping pills from the medicine cabinet. Elliot knows it'd be useless trying to find sleep without help so he doesn't bother trying.

It takes about an hour before the pills kick in. But much like his conscious mind-in slumber-he can't fight against his thoughts.

He's both surprised and excited that she's turned around, that she's stayed with him…for him. Time seems to slow to a crawl as they kiss.

After what seems like long minutes but are more than likely mere seconds, they pull away for the need of oxygen. He takes a moment to simply look at her, really look at her. Her hair is longer and wavier. She's still as beautiful as he remembers but there is a lingering sadness in her brown eyes. With his abrupt departure and lack of communication he realizes he's more than likely a large part of the reason it's there.

Her hands have dropped to his waist inside his jacket and his have migrated to her hair. He knows he's a hard man to know. Elliot probably never apologized to her for anything the entire time they were partners. With the half pissed, half wounded look in her eyes he knows if ever there was a time to do so…

"I'm so sorry Liv," he rasps sincere in his apology. "And I'm gonna make it up to you."

There's no need to ask what he's sorry for. They both know.

With the multitude of emotions she's feeling she chooses silence and substitutes her words for a nod before stepping into him and recapturing his lips. He languidly guides her backwards off the patio and into the bedroom behind them, never breaking the kiss until they're inside.

A slow number wafts up from the floor below and into the bedroom as she peels Elliot's sport coat down his arms letting it fall to the floor. He steps out of his shoes putting her at eye level with him while she still wears heels. She smiles at the new view as he caresses the soft skin of her collar bone.

Olivia's fingers don't tremble with nervousness as she ditches his tie and opens one button at a time. He watches in awe as she undresses him, having difficulty believing it's her that's really doing it. Elliot comes out of his trance long enough to help un-tuck his shirt. Too hot for the tank he normally wears, she's rewarded with his bare chest underneath. She is confident touching him intimately for the first time.

Her soft hands feel unimaginably good trailing from his shoulders through the hair of his chest to the mane of his stomach then back again. They are new to each other in this way and both seem to be taking the time for exploration.

Before he locates the zipper to her dress, he leans in to rest his forehead against hers giving them both a moment to find an excuse, to back track, to simply think. When he reaches for and finds the clasp, there is no hesitation as she let's the dress fall before stepping out of it. He has no words but an approving expression spreads across his face.

The matching black strapless bra and panties she wears beneath are pure seduction. They're satin, lace and nearly see through. She puts her arms around his neck and smiles at his obvious and instant response to her.

"You know the last time I took my clothes off in front of you, you weren't nearly as appreciative," she tells him eying the bulge in his slacks with a raised eyebrow.

"In my defense I was distracted by two men with guns," he says a whisper away from her lips before kissing her again.

"That could happen right now you know," she tells him after the kiss. "But I just can't bring myself to give a damn."

"Me either," he says backing her into the bed behind her. Once he knows she's reached the mattress he kneels in front her. He smoothes his hands up her thighs until they reach her panties.

He pulls them down slowly while admiring her Brazilian wax job with a predatory smile on his face. Once she steps out of them, he uses his strong hands to guide her into a sitting position.

Olivia sits back far enough so that her feet are dangling off the side of the bed. Elliot takes one leg and bends it at the knee. He takes the other and puts it over his shoulder.

"You are absolutely gorgeous," he says before trailing warm open mouthed kisses and hickeys from her inner thigh to his intended destination.

Across town Olivia has returned to her own vivid colorful dreams. She's used to a few nightmares because of her line of work, but over the years has become a more peaceful sleeper. Her reunion with Elliot has pretty much shot that to hell.

She is twisted in her bed sheets. Her hair is splayed all over her pillow and she has changed positions for the millionth time. If someone took her pulse they'd find her heart beating at a pace synonymous with that of a sprinter.

To any on-looker she would appear to be having a nightmare. Her face is flush and she is sweating through what little she does have on. But as is often with her, nothing is what it seems.

The vision of having Elliot Stabler kneeling between her legs would be enough to finish her off it weren't for the very adept things he is doing with his tongue.

His new beard is creating a delicious friction with what little hair the woman at the spa has left her with. And Elliot is savoring her center with slow, deliberate, toe curling intention.

"If this is…ahh…making it up to me," she says in between unintelligible sounds. "Then I accept you're….umm…apology."

Minutes later she feels the familiar electricity as it builds in her stomach and spreads throughout her limbs as she climaxes. Olivia can do nothing but close her eyes and fist the bed sheets as wave after wave hits her.

Once she's back to herself she opens heavy lidded eyes to a smiling Elliot.

"I love the way you make amends," she tells him eying his pants and reaching for her bra at the same time. "But I think we're both still too overdressed."

Elliot reaches for his belt buckle unclasps it and tosses it onto the floor while Olivia kicks off her heels.

"Pants," she tells him with one side of her mouth turned up in a smirk. She wants him with her, inside her, all around her and is completely unapologetic about it. Even though Olivia is the one fully exposed, she has her arms folded behind her head knowing she has complete control.

He moves away from the bed obliging her by dropping his slacks and kicking them across the room along with his socks. He stands there in all his usual smugness enjoying being ogled by his ex partner in his black boxer briefs. She's eying him like she's the lioness and he's a gazelle.

"You know every time I've had this dream you were always wearing those," she reveals to him.

He climbs onto the bed slowly up her body until he's resting perfectly between her thighs. Elliot continues until he gets close enough to whisper into her ear," in my dreams you weren't wearing shit." He punctuates the expletive by bucking his clothed erection into her causing her to gasp. She's still sensitive from the "apology" he gave her moments ago. Add that to the fact that she can smell herself on him and she's defenseless.

Elliot continues licking, nibbling then sucking at the skin of her neck and further down until he reaches her breasts. His skillful mouth is attached to one bud while his hand works the other between thumb and forefinger applying just the amount of pleasure and pain.

Along with the kneading of her hypersensitive breasts he's creating a rhythm against her core. He's hit a particularly sensitive spot causing her to go from rubbing his back to clawing it.

Olivia suddenly flips them over without warning so that she's on top.

"You're fore playing me to death here El," she tells him using his nick name for the first time since seeing each other again. "As much as I love it…"

"I'm just trying to show you how much I missed you," he tells her sliding his rough hands up her torso to palm her breasts. Her eyes close at the contact but she quickly regains control taking his hands placing them at his shoulders.

She leans over him resting her chest against his, biting his ear before soothing it with a warm mouth. "Then stop teasing and prove it to me," she whispers returning the torture of grinding into him.

Elliot's attempts at a peaceful rest before their night's work, is just as futile and nowhere near as recuperative as he'd hoped with the sleeping pill.

It has done nothing to quiet his thoughts or erase the latent images that made the sleep aide a necessity to begin with. He's fallen out of bed at least once and woken himself up.

Elliot's eternally grateful for having landed on his hardwood floor thinking he would dream of something…anything else. That is, until he goes back to sleep and his mind wickedly picks up where it left off concerning his night with Olivia.

Never one to shy away from a challenge Elliot gets off the bed standing at Olivia's side. She sits with her back to the headboard perching herself up on her elbows with one leg arched…waiting.

He then takes both hands slowly lowering his briefs before stepping out of them completely. Olivia's eyes darken to a near black hue as she takes in the entire view of her ex partner.

Elliot leisurely climbs up her body spreading her legs with his knees until their hips meet. For a few seconds he's rubbing his length at her entrance seemingly getting them both used to the idea of the unfathomable thing that's about to happen.

He kisses her deeply and passionately exploring her mouth again while simultaneously slipping into her for the first time. Elliot swallows her gasp and begins moving at a snail's pace before removing himself and then filling her completely resulting in another short intake of air by her.

Words can't describe how he feels about seeing the expression on Olivia's face. Her eyes are hooded and staring directly into him. She alternates between biting her lower lip and throwing her head back in ecstasy.

"Faster El," she tells him.

She raises her hips to meet every stroke working with him as she never has before. He raises her leg up over his hip to deepen the motion at the same time putting a hand beneath one of her shoulders for leverage.

Between his panting and her moaning he's glad that the song has changed to a louder more up tempo tune. As he pistons his hips and hits new depths her moans become genuine screams and he absolutely loves it. He just doesn't want the other guests to hear.

"Shit," she manages between indecipherable sounds. "Don't stop," she adds before planting the heel of her foot into his ass spurring him on.

Elliot buries his face in her neck alternately whispering her name along with lust driven profanities. Her only response is to nod or kiss him because her verbal skills are seriously lacking at the moment.

Once he palms and starts to knead one of her breasts the sensations of pain and enjoyment conspire to send her over the edge. He feels her muscles pulse around him as she at once scratches new flesh out of his back and bites his shoulder muffling a primal scream. After thrusting into her several more times, it's enough to make him reach his own climax and follow her over.

Afterwards, they lay there spent, sweaty and satiated. Nothing can be heard over the soft melody that's begun to play save their short breaths as their heart rates work at returning to normal.

As her cell phone alarm blares waking her out of the dream, she now remembers every detail about their time together.

Elliot had not immediately withdrawn himself from her. He had taken his hand and wiped the sweat and hair out of her face telling her how beautiful she was, reverently placing butterfly kisses on both eyes.

"Damn him," she says swearing she can still feel phantom kisses on her skin and the sex they had between her legs.

It had been awhile for her, six months since her and Hayden called it quits. Being with David was nice. Though it ended before either of them wanted, it was exactly what she needed to show her there was life post-Elliot Stabler.

Olivia had been fine. Her closure rate hadn't suffered and she was adjusting to the new dynamics of Amaro and Rollins. Calvin's grandparents allowed her to see him from time to time, she was sleeping well enough and her world was righting itself once again.

Enter Christian De La Costa and his damned specially concocted brand of Ecstasy. Any filter she had, any walls she had up, any defense she put in place where her former partner was concerned had been quickly annihilated by the drug.

She hates that when he noticed her goose pimpled flesh from the open patio door, he closed it and gathered her in his arms before covering them both with blankets they hadn't bothered to pull back.

She hates that even under the influence he was sweet, attentive, left painless hickeys and treated her body with adoration. But Olivia was angry, almost violent leaving painful scratches and bite marks, ravaging his body. She wasn't at all tender with him.

Olivia hates that he was just as considerate of her body the second and God help her the third time when she climbed on top of him. But what she hates the most is the fact that he turned simple lust, simple attraction, and a simple roll in the hay into a lovemaking session under the beautiful view of a full moon.

The way he whispered sweetly to her, touched her tenderly, held onto her like he'd never see her again and most of all the way he looked into her eyes so intensely before, during and after was just so… much. It was too much.

Her plans are to make the deal with De La Costa, nail him for everything she and the feds can throw at him, close the case and try to forget that last night had ever happened.

She needs to believe it was Rachel Martin and Elliot O'Leary having sex instead of Olivia Benson and Elliot Stabler making love. She needs to blame it on the Ecstasy or the full moon. She needs to find a hypnotist that can erase the images of his naked form all over hers, the sound of his voice whispering her name, the feeling of his hands, his mouth…

"Shit," she says grasping her marble bathroom sink.

Why couldn't he have just stayed retired? In Queens. With his family. With his wife.

For her own self preservation Olivia needs just one more thing. To hate Elliot.