A/N: And now we'll never have to wonder if we missed out on each other…
DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and all related characters. TStabler owns the following story.
"That letter," Elliot says, a lighter flicking to life in his fingers, though he doesn't smoke, "You wrote it because Alex…asked you to, didn't you?"
Tucker smirks, leans back in his chair, and chuckles. "She can be very…persuasive. In fact, when you transferred back to the One-Six she got me to promise not to do anything about…this," he says as he waves a hand between Elliot and Olivia.
Olivia squeezes the bridge of her nose with her fingers as she screws her eyes shut. "I can't…I just can't…this is…" She looks up at Tucker. "What the hell were you thinking when you..."
"Look, Benson, your friend did you a favor," Tucker interrupts. "A few of them. Thank her, move on"
"Move…are you…" she shakes her head and scoffs. She looks over at her other half and she threatens, "Elliot, if you don't do it, I'm gonna…"
"Edward Tucker," Elliot cuts in, standing. He tosses the lighter down onto the man's desk and pulls his handcuffs out of his pocket. "You have no idea how much I am going to enjoy slapping these on you."
Tucker narrows his eyes and tilts his head. "What the hell are you doing?"
Elliot pulls Tucker out of his chair, hard, not caring if it hurts. "You are under arrest for solicitation, blackmail, conspiracy, and obstruction." He twists Tucker's arms behind his back and one cuff clicks tight around one wrist. "You have the right to remain silent, anything you say…"
"I know my rights, Stabler," Tucker spits. "You need to think about what the hell you're doing. If I go down, I'm taking you down with me."
Elliot laughs and yanks on the small chain between the cuffs. "For the first time, Tucker, you don't have anything on me."
"You and Benson!" Tucker yells.
"Everyone knows," Elliot growls into Tucker's ear. "Everyone. Guess I forgot to mention that."
Olivia stands as Elliot passes her chair, pushing Tucker out of the office. She looks at the cuffed man, and she sees real fear in his eyes. As hard as she tries, she just can't seem to bring herself to feel sorry for him.
"Are you okay?" Elliot asks, tilting his head as he watches her peel the label off of her beer bottle.
She nods, then she sips. "Fine," she mumbles. "Just arrested my boss, sat through prep for my best friend's trial, and now I'm sitting on my lumpy couch with a man I can't stop myself from needing with every fiber of my being and it scares the shit out of me." She finally looks up at him. "Yeah," she breathes, "I'm just fine."
He reaches for her hand, prying it away from the amber glass. "I need you, too, Liv," he whispers. "More than…more than I care to admit."
"Yeah?" Her eyes flicker slightly as she asks.
"Yes," he nods, and he brushes his thumb over her knuckles. "Look, baby, why don't we just forget about what happened today, okay? Just talk to me."
"About?" she questions, then takes another sip of her beer.
He smiles. "Tell me what went through your head when I kissed you in the cribs."
"Oh," she says, rolling her eyes. "There was no thinking, just…angels singing." She laughs and shakes her head. "Then I realized what was happening and…yeah."
He leans over and kisses her softly. "Glad that's all straightened out," he mumbled against her lips.
She hums in agreement and pulls away, then bites her lip. "Last night…"
"I know." He sighs and pulls her hand to his mouth. He kisses the soft inside of her palm. "I wanted it, too, and if I could have killed Langan in that room this morning, I would have." He looks into her eyes. "It's been a long day, baby, why don't we just go to bed and…"
She kisses him hard before he can finish his sentence. "It has been a long day," she whispers, running her lips along his jawline. "But how tired are you?"
He chuckles and slides his hands up her back, under her shirt. "I am wide awake right now," he says, nipping at her lips.
She smiles against his skin, her teeth grazing his neck, her hands feeling their way up his chest and around his neck. "Right here," she moaned, rocking into him, "Right now, El."
He kisses her again, grumbles something into her mouth, and peels her shirt up. He pulls away from her for a moment to rip it over her head and as he drops it to the floor he looks at her and loses his breath. "Are we really…?"
"Yeah," she cuts him off with a nod and a smile. She pops the buttons on his shirt, moving it to the side and brushing it down his shoulders. "We are," she says with a look in her eyes that tells him she doesn't quite believe it either. She watches him shake his shirt off, hears it plop to the floor where she knows hers is, and she holds her breath as she feels his hands reach for the clasp of her bra.
He flicks it with two fingers, it pops, and he takes his time dragging the silk off of her body. He drinks her in with his eyes as each new bit of skin is exposed. Something, though, snaps as the bra falls to the hardwood. He bends his head, takes one of her beaded nipples into his mouth, and sucks lightly as he pulls at her pants.
Moaning, she helps him get them off, her legs rubbing against his as she maneuvers to get the black cotton off of her form. She groans out his name as he moves to the other nipple, his tongue flicking over it before he takes it between his teeth. She yelps when he rips her silk panties off of her in one hard yank, and she knows now that it's real. It's all real.
He lifts his hips, her nipple still held between his lips, and she scoots up a bit to let him push down his own black slacks. He lowers himself back to the couch, sucks harder on the bud in his mouth, and kicks the pants off as he grips her sides.
She gasps lightly as she feels him move her, she bites her lip and every thought and feeling she has had about this moment over the last decade fades away. Nothing is left but the sound of her heartbeat as she looks down at him, her eyes glued to his.
He wraps one hand around the back of her neck and pulls her down to him, kissing her deeply as he thrusts upward, into her, moving slowly, inching in. He moans, his lips still attached to hers, and his body tightens when he reaches the deepest point.
She pries her lips from his, presses her forehead down to him. "Oh, my God," she says, so softly it's as if she's said nothing at all. "El," she cries before sealing her lips over his again.
He grunts, moans her name, and starts to move, and he prays that tonight, there are no interruptions. He moves his lips to her neck, nipping and biting as he thrusts upward, holding her down to make sure he hits every spot he can.
She drops her head back and his name rolls off of her tongue as her body reacts to every move he makes. She rolls over him, her hips and back making waves as he fills her, and she realizes, now, that her dreams and fantasies of him didn't do him justice. "Oh, God, baby," she pants, her nails cutting into his shoulders as she tenses and grips him.
"Liv," he moans, muffled by the flesh of her neck in his mouth. He moves faster, a bit harder. Sweat beads form along his joints, on his forehead. He feels her slickening, tightening, and the intensity of what's happening makes his heart skip.
She moans again, louder now. "Elliot," she groans, "Oh, God, yes!"
And though he expected her to make some sort of noise, he wasn't expecting it to sound so incredible. Her words, her voice, they hit his very core and makes every muscle in his body twitch. He grunts every time he slides into her. He breathes every time he pulls out, and when he finally looks up into her eyes, his world goes dark.
She shakes, trembles, her body burning. Her mind goes blank, she doesn't know her own name at this moment, and she growls out a fierce cry of his name and a long, rolling, "Oh, God."
He shakes against her, in her, shooting and slamming, not wanting it to end, knowing it has to. "Liv," he spits. "Christ." When he stops, he curses and stills, and he holds her tight, he can feel her still trembling in his arms, which surprises him because he's still shaking, too.
She kisses him, slowly, trying to calm down, trying to take in what has just happened, trying to grow used to the shift in her universe.
He runs his fingers through her hair, he's still inside of her, pulsing and throbbing in the wake of what he can only think of as a beautiful death. "I love you," he whispers.
She shudders again, hearing him, and she takes a slow, deep breath before answering, "I love you, too, El."
He tightens his fist in her hair and kisses her harder, as if needing to prove he means it. He takes his time, trying to kiss her all the way down to her soul. He's savoring the moment, memorizing the way she tastes, and he's almost got it down when his cell phone rings.
She moans in protest as he moves beneath her to reach over to the coffee table. His lips still against hers, he grumbles a greeting into the phone. He waits, he listens, and he pulls away from her. "What?" he barks.
"What is it?" she asks, fear striking her.
He holds up a finger as he kisses her shoulder. "Yeah. I'll be…I'll be right there. No...I think…I'll call her, but she's not my partner, I…yes, Sir." He hangs up, he looks at her. "We need to get dressed."
"What happened?" she asks, climbing off of him.
He takes a breath and he looks at her. "We got a homicide," he says with a shrug.
She squints. "I'm not…I don't work with you in…"
"You do now," he says, tugging on his pants. "It's the vic, Liv, it…Cragen wants you on it with me."
She pulls on her bra, clasping it behind her back. "Who, El?"
He smoothes out his shirt and heaves a heavy sigh, then moves to her. He kisses her gently and says, "Tucker."
A/N: How? WHO?
