Disclaimer: Is this really necessary?
A/N: I promise to only pick on them for a few more chapters… then I'll get around to real dates, romance, possibly some dancing, etc… But for now? I'm enjoying the trials of love… I mean, c'mon, with a title like that, did you expect them to just ease right into a relationship? Ha… yeah, right! This is Olivia Benson we're talking about- nothing ever comes easy for her… but I promise- things will work out… eventually…
The Trials of Love
-iheartSVUandNCIS
Once you have purchased a key lime pie, half a dozen chocolate chip cookies, and half a dozen squares of peanut butter fudge, we are on our way out of the bakery and to your apartment. You smile sheepishly at me, eyeing the bright blue bag I am carrying, and I can't help but laugh.
Ladies and Gentlemen, Olivia Benson is a junk food junkie…
"It's not an addiction, I swear…"
I can't resist teasing you. Never, not in a million years, would I have pegged you as the sweet tooth type.
"Elliot has offered to pay for my stint in rehab. I told him not to bother- rehab is for quitters… See as how I have no intentions of quitting, it would just be a waste of his coin and my time." You say, your tone jovial.
I'm about to say something when your cell phone rings, and you hold up a finger as you dig the device out of your pocket.
"Benson… yeah… I'm entitled to an afternoon off… She did what?" You make eye contact with me and mouth your partner's name, letting me know who you're talking to, before going back to the conversation. "Well, take 'em home to Kathy… yeah, I'm sure… you too, El."
You close the phone and slip it back into your pocket.
"Sam sent me roses…" You tell me, turning up your nose.
For some reason, you just don't strike me as the flower type. Maybe it's your badass persona or your rough-around-the-edges appearance. I don't know what it is, but something about you tells me that you're just not a send-me-roses kind of girl.
"She doesn't know you at all."
My observation draws laughter from you, and I just smile.
"Oh, really? And just how would you have apologized?" You ask, eyebrow raised in question.
Without thinking, I speak.
"All night long."
I'm flirting, and I know it. I should stop it, should reign myself in before this goes too far, before this goes from harmless flirting to me throwing myself at you completely…
You flash me a knowing grin, and all I can do is smile back at you.
"A little sure of yourself, aren't you? What makes you think I'd be so inclined to forgive?" You ask, and it hits me that you are playing along, that you are flirting right back.
We come to a stop outside your building.
"Certain assets of mine can be very persuasive."
Your eyes meet mine, and in them I see questions that you're too afraid to ask, fears you can't let go of, and hope that you are not used to feeling… Questions and fears have been a part of who you are for so long that you are accustomed to how they feel, how they effect you… but hope? This is foreign to you, an unknown substance seldom allowed to course through your veins…
"I can only imagine… just how persuasive you can be…" You say, your eyes leaving mine, traveling down my body slowly, appreciatively.
I feel myself start to blush under your admiring gaze, feel my pulse begin to quicken.
Before I lose what little courage I have managed to muster, I lean into you, pressing my body against yours. You pull me closer to you, wrapping your arm around my waist, and, encouraged by the look in your eyes, I press my lips to yours, once… twice…
"What the fuck is going on?!" A voice from behind us demands, and it takes a few seconds for my brain to function well enough to identify the voice as that of Samantha Maddox.
You've got to be kidding me…
You spin around, a look of anger flashing in your eyes, as you put yourself between the two of us.
"Her?! She's the reason you broke up with me? She's a goddamn ice queen! That frigid bitch? You left someone like me for her?!" She sounds furious, and when she points her finger at me accusingly, you take a step towards her.
"Calm down, Sam… and keep your comments to yourself." You say, your tone one of warning.
You square your shoulders and stand a little taller as she approaches. She rushes up to you, her finger in your face, and I watch as your nostrils flare.
If she knows what's good for her, she'll back down…
"I'll say whatever I want about that self-righteous, uptight bitch! I mean, really, Liv, what are you to her anyway? What do you have to offer the Almighty Alexandra Cabot?! She's going to use you… she's going to use you and then just throw you away! It's what she does…" She is screaming now, attracting the attention of passersby, her hands gesturing wildly.
Oh, fuck you!
"You're one to talk! I don't think there's a woman in Manhattan that you haven't tried to go down on, you whore!"
My words must strike a nerve, because she lunges at me, only to be subdued by one very pissed off cop. I watch as you catch the fist she throws your way, spin her around, pinning both her arms to her back.
"Let me go! I'm going to slap the hell outta that stupid bitch!" She is livid, squirming, trying her best to break free of your hold.
Probably having realized that she is not going to break free, she stops struggling, stops screaming at the top of her lungs.
"You're going to leave her the hell alone, that's what you're going to do… You're going to leave- period." You say, letting her go, shoving her away from you.
There's a fire in her eyes that is telling me that this is far from over, and, as if to prove my point, she tries to dart past you and throw a punch at me. I watch in horror as you rush to put yourself between her fist and my face. The blow to your jaw makes a sickening sound. You recover almost instantly, shoving her up against your building, reaching for your cuffs.
I watch and listen as you slap cuffs on her wrists and start reading her rights.
Assault on one of New York's finest… that's going to look good on her record…
"No, no, no… I didn't mean to hit you! I was… I was aiming for her! I didn't mean to hit you, Liv, you gotta believe me." She is pleading now, trying her best to convince you to take the cuffs off of her as you pull out your cell phone.
You're on the phone with Elliot, telling him that you've just been assaulted, and from your tone, he is, as usual, worried about you. After assuring him that you are okay, you tell him to come pick up your assailant.
Turning to me, you smile apologetically.
"He's on his way now… about three blocks away." You tell me, then pulling her towards a set of steps, you motion for her to sit down.
She is sitting on the steps, crying, telling you that she's sorry, that if you take the cuffs off, she will leave and you will never hear from her again.
"I take those bracelets off, and you leave… You don't try to contact me. You don't cause any trouble for Alex. You leave… is that clear?" You say, pulling the key out of the back of your handcuff case.
She nods and remains silent.
You walk over to her, helping her to stand, and you turn her around so that you can unlock the handcuffs. Once she is free, she takes a few steps away from us, turning back only once to glance from me to you, before she decides to cut her losses and just leave.
Once she is out of sight, I rush over to you to examine your jaw.
"My, God, Liv… are you okay?!"
I know you can hear the panic in my voice, see the concern in my eyes. I hope you know how much what you just did means to me, hope you know that I just fell a little more in love with you…
You shrug, bringing your hand up to your face, touching it tentatively. You wince a little, and I can't help but feel a tinge of guilt. You took a punch that was meant for me…
"It's been one helluva day, huh?" You ask, laughing as you shake your head. "First I get kicked, then I get slammed through a table… now this…"
What the hell? Slammed through a table?!
The look on my face must inform you that you forgot to inform me about the fact that you were slammed through a table, and so you start to explain.
"Pushed another asshole's buttons… A high school kid was found bound and gagged, obvious signs of sexual assault.. He'd had the shit kicked outta him, and when we asked him who did it, he said that his boyfriend had gotten rough with him because he didn't want to be outted… So we picked his boyfriend up. Turns out, the six-foot-four, two-hundred pound quarterback plays for the other team… I, ah… I might have told him that maybe the reason he enjoyed playing ball was because he liked to strip it down and shower with the boys… He picked me up and slammed me through the table before Elliot and Fin could get in there to help me out… Gotta a confession outta him, though…" You recant the story, smiling innocently at me, as if you don't see anything wrong with the fact that you have been assaulted three times in one day.
What am I going to do with you?
"Your mouth has a habit of getting you into trouble, detective…"
You grin at me, shrugging once again, reaching out to take me by my hand.
"I seem to recall something else my mouth was doing… before we were interrupted…" You say, and I allow you to pull me into your arms.
I kiss your jaw line, careful not to cause you any pain.
"Purple seems to be your color… in more ways than one."
You roll your eyes at my lame attempt at humor, and I just smile, comfortable in your arms, in your embrace.
"Can you stop cracking jokes… and just kiss me?" The last part of what you say is said in a whisper, and instantly, my desire to laugh is replaced by nothing but sheer desire.
The kiss starts out as innocent and exploratory, but as your hand finds its way to the back of my neck, the kiss deepens, becoming sultry and passionate. I bend down slightly, to put the bag from the bakery down, and once both of my hands are free, one hand makes its way to the small of your back while the other finds its way to your hair, my fingertips dancing through strands of brown silk.
Your tongue glides over my bottom lip, and I open my mouth to you, allowing our tongues to collide. You moan into me, and in response, I allow the hand that is on the small of your back to travel a little lower. Slipping my hand into your back pocket, I pull your hips into mine, grinding against you once…
Hearing someone clear their throat rather loudly behind you, I slowly pull away, only to look over your shoulder and into the face of Elliot Stabler. He has lowered his sunglasses and on his face is a look of total shock.
Busted…