Part Four
After
He swallowed hard, reminding himself that as much as he wanted to touch her, it was a horrible idea. Even worse than telling her the truth. "I just wanted to check on you. See how you're doing."
"Bullshit." She glared at him. "I know when you're lying, Elliot. That hasn't changed."
"Everything else has." He didn't know why he said it. It wasn't like either one of them didn't already know.
She looked away, hurt replacing the anger on her face. "You should go."
And suddenly, despite having heard the one thing that would have made it ok to leave, he was glued to the couch. "What the hell, Liv? What is your problem?"
Her face was the picture of utter shock, as though it should have been painfully obvious. "You didn't ask for my permission, Elliot. You just went ahead and made a huge decision for me without discussing it with me first."
"What?" It was his turn to be shocked, because of all the things she could have been pissed at him over, the one she picked had never once entered his mind.
"I had no say, Elliot! You forced your choice on me. How did you expect me to react?"
He wanted to laugh at the absurdity. "You were unconscious."
"So? That means I don't have a say? Did it occur to you that I might have an opinion of my own?"
"Would you have rather died? Cause that was the other option." He couldn't believe it. Just couldn't wrap his head around it.
Her chin trembled. "It doesn't matter. I still feel violated."
Before
Olivia spent half the day catching up on paperwork which she was sure the captain would appreciate. Elliot did the same. It was too dangerous for them to work the rest of their cases while they were undercover. Their active cases, besides the three girls, had been reassigned throughout the rest of the overworked squad.
She caught their unhappy glares but she didn't feel guilty. Not only had she more than done her part over the years, but she was also in the midst of a dangerous undercover assignment with the Russian mob. Not exactly the sort of thing anyone had the right to be jealous of.
"You should probably head out, Liv."
She looked up, confused momentarily since she and her partner usually burned the midnight oil at their desks. But Sarah didn't. Smiling, she met Elliot's eyes. "Any requests for dinner, darling?"
He raised an eyebrow. "You're going to cook for me?"
"No, but I thought I'd ask anyway." She snickered at his disappointment.
"I'll leave here in about an hour. See you at home, honey." His shit-eating grin told her that he was getting a kick out of the gig too.
Probably not as big a one as she was getting though, since he had a spouse to go home to every night. Briefly, she wondered how Kathy was taking the news about her husband's new wife, however temporary it might be. Knowing Elliot's tendency to not tell the truth when it might get him in trouble, she wondered if Kathy knew at all. But she didn't dwell on it long.
Normally, Olivia hated leaving work. She loved her job, found a lot of satisfaction in doing it well. There was more to it though, she knew, because she missed the company when she was at home. Not just her partner, her friends too. Her entire identity was tied up in her career as were most of her relationships. Being at home was lonely.
So it made her smile as she climbed into her borrowed car, knowing that she wouldn't be home alone that night. And not just not alone, but with her first choice of companion on any given day, if she were being honest with herself.
Armed with a slew of Gucci and Prada and Coach shopping bags loaned to her in case someone was watching, she let herself into her new house. The bags were abandoned by the front door, as were her shoes. She'd been too hungover that morning to do more than fold the sheets at Elliot's request. She hadn't had an opportunity to look around the house. Starting with the living room, she checked everything out - the high-end furnishings, the tastefully expensive art decorating the walls.
But the thing that caught her eye was the collection of "family" portraits adorning the mantle, the end tables, the hallway to the bedroom. After so many years, she knew there were bound to be photographs of her and Elliot. And while Ellis had asked her and Elliot for any shots they had, and while she'd heard the captain asking the rest of their unit to fork over any pictures they might have, and while she knew there were certainly several photoshopped concoctions, like their wedding photos, Olivia was truly amazed at the pictures. She really couldn't tell how many were faked besides the obvious. It was strange to see how happy they looked together in the ones she knew were real.
A quite disturbing thought occurred to her, one that scared her, made her think about gathering the pictures and throwing them in the beautiful marble fireplace.
She wanted to keep them. Take them home. Hang them on her walls.
Pretend that it was real.
So shaken by the thoughts in her head, she was honestly surprised to still be there when Elliot came in from work. She could have run and she would have. Except she thought of the girls being tortured and the real couples who thought they had the right to keep a young girl prisoner just because they could afford to. And so she stayed, despite her instincts screaming at her to run for her life.
If he noticed anything was off with her, he pretended not to. Instead he threw his suit coat on the bags she'd dropped by the door. His tie wound up draped over the chair. His shoes dropped over the arm rest of the couch as he flopped down and kicked up his feet. He managed to half unbutton his shirt with one hand while he operated the remote with the other.
Olivia snickered at him, at his level of comfort, at his utter maleness. "I hope you're not expecting me to pick up after you."
He lifted his head to look at her, but she realized a moment later he'd only lifted his head to shove a throw pillow under it. Eventually he seemed to realize he should acknowledge her. "Petya called. Gave me the address for the party, said to be there at eight."
Olivia rolled her eyes. "Nice. We work all day and now we work all night too."
"You weren't working too hard last night."
Scoffing at her make believe husband, she sat down in the chair adjacent to the sofa. "I had to kiss him last night. That was work. I deserve hazard pay for that."
He smirked in her direction for a moment before his eyes locked back on the giant TV screen. "That nap you took on my shoulder really wore you out, huh?"
Thankful he wasn't looking, but aware he knew she was blushing anyway, she tried to pretend it wasn't out of the ordinary, that it didn't bother her. "It's not my fault you got me drunk." And then she grinned at him. "And it's not my fault you smell so damn good either."
To avoid a repeat of the night before, Olivia made sure to eat dinner before she left the house. Elliot had reminded her several times that they were going to a dinner party, but she ignored him, deciding that Sarah would declare that she was on a diet if anyone questioned her lack of appetite. She didn't want to take the chance that dinner would be something disgusting that she wouldn't be able to eat. She'd barely touched dinner the night before and had paid the price with getting drunk even faster than she'd expected.
Once she was finished with the bowl of pasta, she headed into the bedroom to change. Elliot was already dressed, his expensive suit somehow making him even more ridiculously attractive than normal, even while he glanced at his watch and warned her the car was leaving in thirty minutes, whether she was in it or not.
To guarantee that the drooling over her partner wouldn't be entirely one sided, Olivia carefully picked through her loaned closet. She needed just the perfect dress, one chosen specifically to make Elliot crazy, and yet not one that was too blatantly picked to get his attention. She found just the one in a dark blue, slightly shiny fabric. It was full length and slightly fitted. The high neck and long sleeves made it seem almost prudish at first glance, except the back dropped sharply from the shoulders, curved forward around her sides and waist, carved out to completely expose her back, so far down as to be nearly inappropriate for public wear.
And poor Elliot would have no idea until he put his hand to her back the way he always did. She smirked at herself in the mirror as she pinned up her hair and put in her earrings. A touch of eye liner, some lip gloss, and another pair of really silly shoes finished her off.
She made it back to the living room in twenty-seven minutes, raising her eyebrow at Elliot's shocked, yet appreciative expression. She smiled, loving that he was checking her out, feeling almost guilty because he was clearly relieved she wasn't showing as much skin as she had the night before.
Pulling her wrap around her back and shoulders to keep the secret a bit longer, Olivia grabbed her clutch and followed Elliot out the door.
They pulled up to the enormous mansion a few minutes before eight. Olivia turned to glance at Elliot, taking in his shell-shocked expression.
"You sure this is the place?"
Elliot glanced at the slip of paper in his hand. "I'm not sure this isn't an airport."
Two men in black suits opened both of their doors without warning, each offering a hand to help them out, revealing the guns they carried as they did so. The one helping Elliot spoke gruffly. "Your names please?"
"Edward and Sarah Grant. We're expected."
The man nodded, waving his arm for Elliot to go ahead. Unnerved that there were armed guards to stop them in case they needed to cut and run, Olivia's hand gripped Elliot's proffered arm, her nails digging into the fabric of his jacket.
Two more men, undoubtedly armed as well, met them at the front door, taking their names and patting them down.
Out of Sarah's sense of propriety, Olivia yelped quite convincingly when the man put his hands on her.
Out of Edward's concern for his wife, he jumped at the guy. "Hey! Hands off my wife, pal!"
Abandoning Olivia to check Elliot instead, they closed in around him. "Your hosts are cautious people."
Elliot let them pat him down with a scowl on his face, also quite convincingly, in Olivia's mind at least, irritated that his honor was being questioned. He straightened his jacket as though it had been ruined by their unworthy hands. "Are we done here?"
The man who'd done the patting nodded at the other, who spoke. "Right this way."
He led them down a long hallway and through a giant set of double doors, so ornate that Olivia thought they might have belonged in a castle. Of course, the house was so enormous that it resembled a castle, so it made sense.
As he stepped through the doors, the man spoke, announcing their arrival to the twenty or so guests in the room as though they too were royalty simply by being allowed entrance. "Edward and Sarah Grant."
Olivia plastered a smile on her face as though she were used to such treatment, handing her wrap and clutch to the maid on her left. She turned to Elliot, watching his face carefully as his arm moved toward her, his hand nearing the skin of her back. The movement was so ingrained, so natural, that he didn't even need to look as he moved, knowing exactly where the small of her back would be.
She felt his warm hand press against her bare skin for all of a millisecond before he realized something was very different. He turned to her, his eyes widening as his mouth dropped open the slightest bit. She grinned contentedly at him, stepping forward slightly to allow him to see the full back of the dress. He caught up with her quickly, trying to pretend not to be thrown by her attire.
But he swallowed so hard Olivia could hear it.
