Part Nine

After

A few minutes after she turned in the multiple sheets to the desk, a nurse appeared to call her back. Elliot stood with her, being at her side so ingrained in him that it never occurred to him he wouldn't accompany her.

She looked at him with all traces of humor gone. "What the hell are you doing?" Though her voice was soft to keep from being overheard, there was no missing the irritation, the anger.

He only smiled, thinking it was just like her to get all pissed off at him over something so small. He shrugged at her. "You want me to wait out here?"

Olivia turned to answer him, but the nurse's voice interrupted.

"Your husband can come back, it's no problem."

Elliot stepped forward, amused at the nurse's mistake. "Come on, honey, we don't want to keep the doctor waiting."

"I fucking hate you," she growled through clenched teeth. "And you're not my husband."

Her words, her fury, the icy vibes radiating from her meant nothing to him. Not when she didn't bother to correct the mistake either.

Of course, Elliot wasn't one to not push his luck and so, as they were ushered into an exam room, he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "I might as well be."

Before

Before his hand had time to connect with the bouncer, Olivia stepped in front of him. She knew he had no clue right then what he was doing. He was simply angry and hurt and lashing out at the first legitimate option.

As soon as he saw her, he paused, his desire to hit someone fading when he realized that someone would be her. Knowing she'd made some kind of headway with him, her hands pressed against his chest, trying to separate him from his intended target in case he changed his mind.

She backed him up a few steps, but the bouncer moved with them and Olivia was convinced the other man was listening for someone's benefit besides his own. She spoke loudly to be heard by both over the music.

"Relax, Edward, we'll find another girl." She held his eyes as she spoke, waiting for the moment of comprehension.

Instead he stared at her like she was nuts.

"There are plenty of girls here tonight, Edward. No use getting all upset about that one." Leaning in as she spoke, she tried to distract him. Her hands moved up to his neck, her forearms landing on his shoulders. "Hey, it's just me. Calm down."

Whether due to her physical contact or the fact that she'd stopped using the wrong name, he was coming back, his eyes locked on hers as he came down from the high he always found at the prospect of beating the crap out of someone.

Finally, he nodded, his hands moving to her waist, telling her that he remembered where they were and who they were supposed to be and what they were doing.

"I'll get this round," she said as she eyed the bottles he'd dropped. She stepped away, her arms falling to her sides. "Don't beat anyone up while I'm gone, ok?" It was safe to joke. Elliot was back in control.

The corners of his mouth twitched up in a smile. "I'll try."

When she returned, the bouncer was long gone. She sidled up to Elliot, certain they were still being watched if not listened to. "Maureen was here with friends. Think you night recognize any of them?"

He shook his head, though his eyes were scanning the dance floor. "She's twenty-three. She doesn't really introduce her friends to us anymore."

Draping one arm around his neck, she began dragging him toward the dance floor. "Work with me here, will you?"

He grinned as he followed her lead. "I don't dance, Liv. Don't even try it."

"Maybe you don't. But Edward does." Besides, she figured there wasn't really any dancing to be done. She had been watching Maureen's friend for long enough that she should be able to find one of them.

She managed to spot one girl she thought she recognized, but when she asked about Maureen, the girl only shrugged before shaking her head. She suspected between the pounding music and the alcohol, the girl didn't have any idea what she was asking. Her shoulders drooped as she looked at Elliot with a shrug before turning to scan the crowded floor again. Picking out another candidate, she surged forward again.

They only got a couple steps when their bouncer friend appeared. Olivia caught Elliot's eye, a brief reassuring moment to tell him whatever it was - that they'd been made, that Maureen had been identified, that they were being kicked out - she was with him.

The guy smiled, though, inclining his head toward the roped off steps. "Your presence is requested upstairs."

Giving up her quest to get a message to Maureen, Olivia turned to Elliot with a smile. "What's upstairs?"

Elliot looked upward, as though he hadn't noticed the mirrors above. He casually hooked an arm around her shoulders. "It's got to be better than this!"

Her arm went around his waist as though she were quite used to such an action and turned to the bouncer with a smile. "Lead the way."

The bouncer led them up the steps and opened a door. "Enjoy your evening."

"Hey, sorry about earlier." Elliot threw out the apology along with some denomination of cash Olivia couldn't see. "No hard feelings?"

The bouncer shook his head with a grin. "None, sir."

While Elliot was muttering something about being a 'sir' suddenly, Olivia was checking out their new surroundings. The walls were dark wood, sections divided by deep red velvet curtains. Each section held a group of chairs and couches, covered in a warm gold fabric. And though she was sure the tables and flowers were quite expensive as well, she ignored them, opting instead to lean over the angled glass, staring down to the dancers.

She smirked at Elliot, figuring such voyeurism was right up Sarah and Edward's alley.

He joined her, taking his time to peruse the group writhing below. "Nice."

"It's perfect, Edward," she purred, playing the part of a contented wife. "You were right, I love it here."

He grinned at her. "I told you you would."

A waiter, who Olivia suspected doubled as a bouncer as well, approached to offer them glasses of wine. Elliot shook his head, requesting a whiskey, slipping the man a tip, and telling him to keep them coming. Having only had a few sips of her first beer and less than half of her second, Olivia reluctantly accepted the wine. She'd have to stay sober enough to drive, especially since Elliot appeared to be planning on the opposite.

They settled back on one of the couches with their drinks, watching the crowd and eyeing the people around the room. Olivia thought she recognized one couple from the dinner party, but not the rest. Most of them were too busy with their partners to notice the newcomers. Swallowing uncomfortably, Olivia knew they were going to have follow suit to blend in because she suspected they were still being watched.

Elliot seemed to catch on before she did, his arm stretching around her shoulder and pulling her close. She didn't resist, even though she knew she should. It was hard to remember it wasn't real when she was putting so much energy into making it look that way. As soon as he downed his drink, which was before the waiter had walked away, he ordered a double.

She shifted her face up to whisper in his ear. "You might want to pay as much attention to me as you are to your next drink."

His hand grabbed the back of her head, keeping her still when he turned to face her. "I'm paying attention to you."

His smirk, the way his eyes darted to her lips, told her a few more drinks and he'd be paying her a bit too much attention. While she was concentrating on extricating herself from a kiss she feared she would never be able to end, his hand slid up her back, across her shoulder, his fingers hooking around the thin strap of her camisole and sliding it down.

She knew her eyes were wide and for that reason she was glad he leaned in front of her, blocking her face from the view of the audience. Unfortunately, he hadn't done it to protect her. His mouth was on her neck a moment later, his lips parting, his tongue tasting her skin.

She swore it was simply shock, and her attempt to mask it, that caused the groan to spill from her lips.

And it was for the good of their cover, of course, that she let her head fall back, giving him free access to her neck. Access which he was so busy making use of that she wound up accepting his whiskey for him.

Loathe to interrupt her little fantasy come true, she waited as long as she could. But she was well aware that much more seduction from Elliot's mouth on her body and she would climb in his lap, demanding that he finish what he started.

Scraping together every shred of her self-control, she shifted back. "Edward, wait. I want to watch."

When he sat back, his eyes were wide and confused. It made her feel a lot better to know she wasn't the only one getting carried away. The line between them had always been so distinct and unmistakable that the sudden switch to completely blurred was throwing them off balance.

But Elliot was back in character, relaxed and content and overly sexual, so different from the man she knew, that it was somewhat sobering. He shrugged with a smug grin that told anyone who might be looking that he full well expected to get some from her later, and sat back on the couch. One arm stretched across the back of the sofa, the other accepting the drink she'd been holding while signaling the waiter for another.

Still a bit sober, he caught her eyes. "Tell me if you spot someone interesting."

She decided it was perfectly in character for her to drape herself across him as she stared at the dance floor. She wanted to think it was proof of his trust in her that he left her to look for Maureen's friends while he drank himself into a stupor, but while she was bored to tears watching for someone she recognized, Elliot's hands were getting friendlier than they needed to be.

She'd learned something that week – clearly Elliot could not hold his liquor. She'd never really given it any thought. He was Irish. He was solid muscle. She naturally assumed the man could throw down with the best. But there he was, feeling her up, getting quite turned on in the process, she could feel it the way she was pressed against him, and pounding back the whiskey like it was going out of style. Part of her wanted to smack him, considering they'd just been down that very same road a few days earlier, for getting drunk and thinking he was getting lucky.

The rest of her loved every minute of it and wished it would never stop.

By the time Olivia finally positively identified a girl she'd seen with Maureen, Elliot could barely walk. But she managed to get him to his feet, pointing at the girl, trying to make sense to the drunk man without blowing their cover.

He finally noticed where she was pointing, his face lighting up in a grin. "Hey, that's Megan!"

She had no idea if it was actually Megan or not, but it was a perfectly good reason to drag Elliot out of the club, which she needed to do as soon as possible or else he'd be sleeping it off there. Olivia paid no attention to anyone as she pulled Elliot down the stairs back to the main floor. Thankfully the alcohol made Elliot malleable and he simply followed her.

"Megan?" She shouted over the music she felt could best be described as noise at the girl.

She nodded, smiling with a curious look on her face. "Ye-" Her face broke into a smile. "Mr. Stabler! What are you doing here?"

His grin was wide as the girl hugged him. He nodded at Olivia. "This is Liv."

In keeping with the job she was still trying to keep, she pretended she knew Megan, hugging her tightly. "Just go with it, ok?"

Megan looked confused, but nodded. "Did you guys see Maureen?"

Olivia nodded, leaning forward to whisper in her ear, knowing no one could overhear with all the noise. "We're working. Can you leave with us?"

"Sure. I was supposed to make sure Maureen got home, but I can't find her."

Olivia laughed in relief. "Oh, thank God, you're sober!"

Megan nodded, eyeing Elliot. "Are you?"

Elliot snickered, not realizing it wasn't the least bit funny. Especially since it would be that much harder to convince everyone involved that Elliot was working when he was drunk.

"Let's get out of here." In an attempt to keep their cover intact, Olivia took Megan's hand and pulled the group out the door.

Megan listened politely as Olivia drove her home, her smirk revealing exactly what she thought of the story.

Olivia wanted to smack Elliot for having chosen that night to get tanked. She didn't know why she was trying to fix her partner's mess and keep his family's respect for him while he was making snarky comments from the passenger seat. At least he wasn't touching her anymore, though she couldn't swear that was a good thing.

But Megan agreed she'd tell Maureen everything Olivia had told her and promised she and her friends would never set in that club again.

It was almost two in the morning when she dragged her half-conscious partner into their living room. She was exhausted and wanted to crash herself, but she couldn't let Elliot down. Not when he'd trusted her.

After getting him to the couch, she shook him awake. "El, come on, it's not time for bed yet."

He chuckled at her with a drunken grin. "It's never time for bed with us, is it?"

"We're not getting into that tonight, El, please."

He stared at her for a long time, until his eyes started to close again.

She shook him again. "El, you need to call Kathy."

He grimaced, an uninhibited reaction that she wished she had the nerve to ask him about while he was drunk enough to tell her the truth. But she couldn't take advantage of him.

"You need to call her now. Before Maureen does." Because, even if Megan did as promised, there was no telling if Maureen had already talked to Kathy or would believe what Megan told her. Seeing was believing, after all, and Maureen had seen plenty.

Finally, Elliot took his phone out of his pocket. "Fine, fine, I'll call her."

She waited until he'd dialed and put the phone to his ear before she gave him some privacy. She didn't want to hear what he'd say. She didn't want anything to do with that phone call. She'd done her part. She'd done enough to save Elliot's marriage. The rest was up to him.