Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.

He'd finally made his way back from the bathroom, his shoes sticking to the beer-coated floor with every step. He took the chance, thanks to the dimly lit and smoke-filled fog, and wrapped an arm around her. "Hey," he whispered.

His breath was hot against her neck; it made every tiny hair stand on edge, sent shivers up her spine and waves of fire into other, lower, parts of her body. With a low moan and a shudder, she turned her head just slightly, eying him over her shoulder. "Hey, yourself," she said flirtatiously.

He narrowed his eyes and licked his lips, reminding himself that he was surrounded by people he worked with. "Shit," he hissed, tugging on his suddenly tight pants. "I just, uh, I wanted to tell you to slow down. You're knocking back more than a few, here."

She scoffed at him and then took another shot, slamming the squat glass down on the bar, and then rubbing her mouth with the back of her hand. She licked her lips as she turned to fully face him. "You gonna arrest me?" she said, moving her leg slowly toward the spot between his. Her knee brushed upward, barely sliding against his hardening bulge. "Detective?"

"Fuck," he spat, pushing her leg down and backing up a bit. "Christ, Liv, Munch and Cassidy are four feet away, Cragen could be here any…"

"Please," she dismissed, rolling her eyes and turning away from him. She raised a finger toward the bartender, asking for another shot. "He isn't coming."

Elliot tugged down his tie, smoothed back his hair, and slid onto the stool next to Olivia. He looked around cautiously before slipping his hand out of view and resting it over her thigh, his fingertips slightly grazing her tenderest flesh. He took a hard gulp, feeling the heat radiating from her. "You're not okay," he said, his voice low. He moved his fingers almost painfully slow, inching them closer to her clothed core. "Tell me what's wrong."

Her eyes fluttered shut as she felt the tips of his fingers brush against her, a light gasp escaping. She opened her eyes to see his staring back, dark and intimidating, as if daring her to refuse him. "We need to…" she paused, as if suddenly hearing his words from before, and she paled. She grabbed his hand and moved it back up, toward her knee, and linked their fingers together. "Cragen said something…before we left for the diner this morning. I think he…well, he thinks he saw…"

"Is that what's got you all hot and bothered?" he asked, a smug grin on his face. He winked at her. "Besides me, of course," he added with a cocky nod of his head. "Yeah, uh, he asked me. I told him he wa way off, but, uh, I did say that I would be spending a couple nights on your couch. He made some wisecrack about needing to pay you rent, for all the times I've stayed with you."

She had to laugh, though it was more bitterly pitiful than humorous. "Yeah, it would help," she quipped. Her eyes darted toward the bar as she heard the drop of a fresh glass. Just as she swung it back, Munch and Cassidy appeared at her side, their bickering garnering her attention. "Lover's quarrel?" she teased, turning her head up at them.

"Munch is a sore loser," Cassidy snapped, plopping into the nearest stool.

Munch stared at the younger detective over the rims of his glasses. "I didn't lose! You scratched! You sunk the eight ball, and then threw a tantrum and tossed all the other balls into the pockets!"

"That's like committing every sin the billiard handbook, man," Elliot chuckled, pulling Olivia slightly off her stool, closer to him.

"Whatever," Cassidy huffed, waving a hand at him. He looked up and signaled the bartender, silently asking for two drinks. He turned with a smirk, a salacious comment about Olivia's pants on the tip of his tongue, but he faltered seeing how close she was to Elliot. "You two look cozy."

Elliot's grin grew slightly malicious; the joy he found in making Cassidy jealous almost came close the joy he found with Olivia in his arms. "Chilly in here," he said with a shrug. "That's all." He sat up a bit straighter. "Now that we're off the clock, you want to explain why you used Liv as an alibi for almost throwing your career down the toilet?"

Cassidy balked, clearing his throat a bit, and then he looked toward the bartender. "Hey, man! How long does it take to pour a couple-a beers?"

"Answer the question," Munch said. "I think I deserve to know why you hung me out to dry like that."

Cassidy took a breath and looked at his partner, and then at Elliot, and then finally at Olivia. "First, uh, Olivia, I'm sorry I dragged you into it, I honestly thought…well, I thought Cragen would buy it off the bat. I mean, is it that hard to believe? I got everything it takes to get a girl like you, Benson. Good job, good looks, sense of humor, so I thought…I mean why is it so fucking hard to believe?"

Elliot clenched his fists, and then, when Olivia cupped her hand over his, he fired a heated look at her.

She shook her head at him and smoothed her hand up and down his leg, trying to calm him. She whipped back to face Cassidy. "I think the people I work with know me better than that, Cassidy, can you please just get to the damn point?"

Brian eyed her for a moment, looked her up and down, swallowed hard, and said, "I got a call. Someone…someone I trust. Told me that Carter wasn't even in the building, gave me an address, and I thought that…"

"You thought that you'd get the glory by nailing the bastard by yourself," a grumpy voice behind the group finished. "And when you showed up and realized you got punked, you thought, 'Hey, I'll just say I was with the only detective in the unit who wouldn't dare do something so stupid and pray my boss believes me?"

Cassidy turned, his face forming a fake, placating smile. "Hey, Captain," he said, nodding.

Cragen did not look amused. He didn't even crack a smile. "I'm not here to join your little party, here," he looked at Elliot and Olivia, curiously scrutinizing their perfectly measured distance. Too close to be merely colleagues, too far away to be intimate. "I need you two back at the station. Two bodies in the park, one older male, but a teenage girl…same MO as our girl this morning, so Homicide kicked it up to us." He gave them each a long look. "Hit the can, sober up, and get back to work."

"Yeah, okay, Cap," Olivia said, sliding off her stool. She waited until Elliot stood beside her before making any move to walk toward the bathrooms. She really had thrown back too many shots too fast.

Elliot followed close behind her, and when they were out of view, he pulled her around the corner, into a dark recessed hallway. Without warning, without a sound, he kissed her, hard, and worked one hand into the waistband of her black slacks. "You're a tease," he whispered. "A goddamn fucking tease." He wriggled his fingers, working them further into her pants, finally touching the hot, wet, skin he'd been craving.

His name was a gasp on her tongue, her eyes opened wider as her head flew back into the wall with a thud. "Christ, Elliot," she moaned. Her eyes rolling now, she rocked her hips, eager to take his fingers inside of her.

He chuckled from low in his chest as he gave her what she so clearly wanted. Pushing two fingers into her, he crooked them and twisted them, and his lips slammed over hers to catch her cries.

Her hands moved fast, toward his belt, knowing he needed to relieve tension and frustration as much as she did, if not moreso after Cassidy's mindless ranting. "Shouldn't be doing this," she mumbled against his lips. And she meant it. They shouldn't be having an affair, and they certainly shouldn't be acting on impulse against the wall of a dark, dingy pub just before heading to work. But they were. God, they were. "Elliot," her voice whispered into his opened mouth, the word falling through his parted lips like iced water on a sweltering day.

"God, Liv, baby," he groaned, thrusting into her hand as she stroked and tugged him. "Not…fuck," he babbled. "Didn't think about this. Shit," he panted, and he worked to get her pants around her waist before it was too late. The last ting he needed was a stained suit; Cragen was already hotwired to write him up.

She laughed in surprise when he hoisted her up, but it became a pleasurably pained sigh when he impaled her and began to hit into her with more force. "God, damn, Elliot!"

"Shh," he silenced, and he kissed her to drive his point home, thrusting faster. "Need this." He moaned her name again and nuzzled her gently. "Need you. Always."

Her heart gave a sharp thump and her hands slipped from around his neck to his elbows, her fingers trailing along his arms to find his hands. A rough and spontaneous fuck in the bar, needed to sober up and right themselves, had become a sweet surrender, a tender and loving tryst.

He slowed just before he exploded, making each of his final thrusts powerful, hitting her pelvis with his. "Close," he breathed against her lips. "So close."

She nodded, leaned into him, and nipped his lower lip before kissing him hard. She squeezed his hands, her body tightened and burned, and her spine tingled.

He felt her clamp around him, felt her pulse and quake, and it was his undoing. He shot into her, whimpering into her mouth and freezing where he stood, unable to will his body to move and her body not allowing him to, anyway. Slowly, he kissed her and pulled his hands away from hers. He smoothed his hands up her goose-pimpled arms, and then dragged his fingers through her hair. "I love you," he whispered.

She nodded, her damp forehead swiping against his. "I love you, too," she said, too fast for it to be easily understood, not fast enough to be meaningless. She was the first to move, adjusting her clothes and straightening her posture. She moaned as she shifted, feeling the remnants of what had just transpired trickling down the still-hot skin of her thighs. She kissed his cheek and whispered, "We have to go."

He nodded, kissing her back quickly. He watched her move and turn away, but his cool voice stopped her. "Hey. Liv?"

She turned, one brow raised.

"Tell me…tell me he's wrong," he said, though he was still looking at the wall.

"What?" she asked, confused.

Elliot took a breath. "Cassidy. Tell me he…no matter what he does…that you…"

"Jesus," she interrupted, huffing and shaking her head in disbelief. "Is that what this was? You were jealous, and you, what, needed to lay your claim on me?"

He turned to her, his eyes red and his face dour with sincerest severity. "Liv?"

His demeanor now took her by surprise. "El," she whispered. "Oh, Elliot, no. Okay? I have never, and will never, be attracted, in any way, to Brian Cassidy." She tried to smile at him. "In fact, I, uh, I think I'm pretty much out of the game. Even if…when…if…this," she waved a hand between herself and Elliot, "This ends…I'm done. You've ruined me for every other man on the planet."

He smiled back at her. "Yeah?"

She nodded. "Completely," she affirmed. "Now, we really have to go, before Cragen starts suspecting things, again."

He walked with her, through the bar, out the doors, into the night. He was trying to get his head back into work, into professionalism, but now, the only thing on his mind was the need to convince her that 'this' was not ending, not any time soon. Not ever, if he had his way.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and smiled slyly to himself.

He knew exactly how to start.

Peace and Love

Jo