A/N: Bound: under a legal or moral obligation; destined; sure; certain; inseparably connected with; devoted or attached to.
DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and the characters; TStabler© owns the story you're about to read.
"Liv!" he yells after her, following her fast as she races out into the hall. "Olivia! Stop!"
She either doesn't hear him or is ignoring him; her path is set and firm as she heads down the hallway. She's seeing red right now, because she is bound to him, bound to her job, and this was bound to happen once she found out who was ultimately behind her almost losing both.
"Olivia!" he yells again, this time in vain. He knows there's nothing he can say, nothing he can do. "Please?" he tries, hoping begging will appeal to her sense of pity, if she still has one.
They round another corner, and the target of Olivia's fury comes into view. She smiles politely just before her fist flies through the air to meet the face of the woman who essentially caused the death of a little girl and the end of Elliot's career.
"Jesus, Liv!" Elliot grumbles, grabbing her in hopes of keeping her from taking another swing.
The people in the hallway are watching, stunned, amused, but the woman who'd been punched is scrambling to her feet in horror. "What the hell, Benson?"
"You...how could you do this to him?" Olivia hisses. "To that...she was just a little girl, Alex!"
Alex Cabot's face falls, and every slip of skin on her body goes completely white but for the patch of skin below her eye, on her cheek, which is rapidly reddening and bruising where Olivia has hit her. "You know."
"Why?" Olivia barks, kicking and trying to pry herself out of Elliot's arms.
He runs one hand down her back, though, and she seems to calm. He presses his lips to her neck and closes his eyes. "Breathe," he whispers.
She takes his advice and takes a breath. "Tell me why."
"Cragen," Alex offers, bending to pick up the strewn papers that have been tossed in the blow. "He asked me...I refused...he said...he told me that it would it get me job back. You hated West and you know it."
"You got your job back," Olivia spits, tugging down her jacket. Tears spring to her eyes. "But you cost Elliot his! You cost that little girl her life, Alex! Did you have any idea that would all..." she pauses, seeing the look of recognition and slight guilt on Alex's face. "You knew."
"Haven't you ever done something for purely selfish reasons, Olivia?" Alex asks, her arms fall in defeat. "Haven't you ever once, in your entire life, just said screw everyone else, I want this, I don't care?"
"Yeah," Olivia whispers, nodding as she bites her lip, "But no one died, Alex. No one fucking died because I decided to get married! Jenna...Sister Peg...fuck, Elliot..." she can't form a coherent thought. She licks her lips and runs a hand through her hair. "Deal with her," she says, turning to Elliot, then she blows passed him and storms off, heading back toward the squad room.
Elliot turns to Alex, loathing in his eyes. "I have waited so damn long to do this," he says with a vile grin on his face as he grabs her arm. "Oh, by the way, I know about you and Judge Bradley. You can talk to me and my partner about that, too."
"Wait, partner?" Alex questions. "What? What the hell is..."
"FBI, Alex," Elliot interrupts. "You stepped in some pretty deep shit. It's a shame, too, because those are some nice shoes you're wearing." He chuckles as he leads her toward the squad room, hoping to get some closure and put one case behind him in order to focus on another.
The squad room has been quiet since. Everyone's senses are heightened and they're all waiting for something to happen. When it doesn't, each person attempts to get some work done, but they're all watching the doors to the pit, wondering when an agent will walk out and yell, or when their captain will be carted out in cuffs.
"Did I miss anything exciting?" Nick Amaro asks, finally walking back into the squad room. He waits for a response, then looks around at the tense faces of his colleagues. "I'll take that as a yes." He clears his throat and walks over to Olivia's desk, throws a file down on her desk, and says, "I told you."
She narrows her eyes as she lifts the manila folder into her hands. She opens it and reads it. then sighs and shuts it, tossing it back down. "Congratulations," she spits. "You are not the father."
"That's it?" Nick barks. "No apology? No hug? Are you serious?"
Olivia bites her lip and flicks the file closer to him. "You're not the father, that doesn't mean you didn't..."
"Fuck, Olivia!" Nick yells. "I didn't kill her! What's it gonna take for you to believe me?"
Munch walks in on the tail end of his rant and says, "Don't take it personally, Nick. She doesn't believe me, either, and she's known me a hell of a lot longer than you."
"Munch," Olivia begins with a sad roll of her eyes, "Please, that's not what...I just don't..."
"I get it," Munch interjects, and he sighs as he walks over to his desk and sits, his own test results in his hands. "I don't blame her. She's thinking like a cop. We all have motives, we all had the means and the opportunity. She's right to not fully believe any of us, and she's right to not fully doubt any of us." He turns and, though he's deeply hurt, he smiles at her. "It's okay, Olivia."
Olivia returns his slight smile, and she leans back in her chair. One hand falls to her stomach as she grimaces slightly and she looks around. "Tell me something, then. If all three of you claim you didn't do it, then who else could have..."
"We weren't the only ones at that warehouse," Amaro speaks. "We had TARU there to help us with the web cam tracing. We had a couple crime scene techs, there were a couple of uniforms." He folds his arms and shrugs. "The dingus with the pointy face talked to all of them, though."
"Pointy face?" Olivia laughs. "You mean Porter?"
Nick shudders. "Guy looks like he's sucking on a lemon. All the time. It's weird."
A loud crash disturbs their first somewhat friendly conversation in days, and Olivia is on her feet in seconds. Before anyone can stop her she runs toward the interrogation room, pushes her way into the pit, and stops in the entryway, seeing Elliot huddled over a knocked down filing cabinet.
"Okay," she says softly, "What did the big, bad drawer do?"
"Not now, Liv," he snarls, his jaw clenched and his whole body rigid.
She climbs over piles of files and bent metal, and she reaches slowly for his shoulders. He jerks when she touches him. "Easy," she coos, resting her palms on him. "Easy, baby." She squeezes once and feels him stiffen. She squeezes again and he's Jell-O. "What happened."
"Fucking...Cragen...Chief Bradshaw...fuck!" he spits, taking sharp breaths between words.
"All that sounded like was a porn flick I never wanna watch," she says, trying to calm him with humor. "Wanna try again?"
He chuckles only slightly, and takes another breath. He slams his fist into the wall and pushes his shoulder blades together, making his back crack and pop. "Cragen gave Rollins the job," he begins, "As favor to Chief Bradshaw." He closes his eyes and says.
"Wait, Bradshaw?" Olivia asks, stunned. "Elliot that man isn't gonna talk to you or Dean without..."
"I know," Elliot stops her, rubbing his forehead. "Shit! That baby was Bradshaw's. Bradshaw paid someone in this unit to..." he tightens his jaw again, his body stiffens, and all of the tension returns to his back and shoulders. " To get rid of the problem."
Olivia's brow furrows. "How do you know it was definitely..."
"We've been working on Cragen and Alex for the last two hours, Liv," Elliot sighs, finally turning to look at her. He slams his head backward into the wall, then pulls her into his arms. he lays her head on his chest and kisses the top of it. "I had to watch him cry...I had to act like I wasn't ready to cry right along with him...I can't believe this shit. I mean, Cragen...I thought of him like a father." He kisses her head again. "We both did."
"Well, you know I have rotten luck when it comes to fathers," she jokes.
He smiles and kisses her lips. "You light up my life, you know that? When there is darkness, the light is you."
"Stop quoting the bible at me," she says, elbowing him. "It's annoying."
"Hey," he defends, "I only have my faith, the kids, and you to keep me strong right now, so combining them all is really doing the job." He lifts her chin and grins at her, and leans in for a longer kiss. "How's my baby?" he whispers.
"Absolutely perfect," she whispers back, "For someone that's only about the size of a cocktail shrimp."
He laughs and shakes his head. "Stop reading that book, honey." He sighs and looks around. "Shit, I really gotta stop taking my anger out on the filing cabinets."
Olivia hums in agreement. "And lockers, and doors, and walls, and..."
"I get it, thanks," he intrudes, narrowing his eyes at her. He growls and kisses her, moaning against her lips. "I can't wait to finish this. So many things I wanna do to you."
"Why wait?" She wraps her arms around his neck with a small moan as she returns his kiss eagerly, and as his hands near the waistband of her pants, her cell phone rings. "Damn it," she hisses, ripping her mouth from his. "Better be the goddamned President," she mumbles.
Elliot laughs and wipes the corners of his mouth, trailing one finger along the hem of her slacks as he watches her answer the call. Then, he sees her turn white and look at him with wide eyes, and he straightens.
"Okay, yes, Sir," she says quickly, "I will...I will be right there." She clears her throat the taps a button to end the call. She sees the concern on Elliot's face and nods once. "That was...that was Chief Bradshaw. He wants to see me."
A/N: WHA?
