A/N: A discussion, and a surrender.

DISCLAIMER: SVU and characters belong to Dick Wolf. Story belongs to TStabler

Elliot drummed his fingers along the surface of the table, waiting. He sighed, checked his watch, and pulled out his phone. He sent Olivia a text message, then plopped the device down on the table. He made a relieved face and rolled his eyes when the person for whom he was waiting sat across from him. "Where the hell have you been?"

"I was busy," she said. "I figured you could wait."

"Kathy," he said, shaking his head, "What are you doing? Do I really deserve this?"

She grinned. "And more," she said. "You know what they say. Hell hath no fury."

"You talked to your lawyer, you know why I…Why I was seeing that doctor, and it's covered by my insurance, so I don't know why you think I can afford to give you more money. I can't."

She furrowed her brow. "You could have talked to me," she said. "Or your precious Olivia. You didn't need a therapist."

"Work…Kathy, I am telling you the truth. I could not have possibly done my job if I didn't go see the doctor. I would have been useless." He closed his eyes and took a breath. "Please, don't hold that against me."

Kathy looked at him, her eyes softened. "You really…this is really upsetting you."

"Yes," he said, "It is. Kathy, I thought we agreed…this is for the best. It wasn't fair to either of us, or the kids, and you…you just threw all of that at me. Did you think it would make me come back to you?"

"No," she said with a sigh, "But I did get your attention, didn't I?"

He shook his head and scoffed. "Is that all you wanted?"

She didn't answer him, she simply said, "I'll call my lawyer in the morning. This will all go away. But…can you stay for dinner this time?"

Elliot sighed, a blend of relief and annoyance. "Yeah," he said, picking up the menu. "But I can't stay for dessert."

Kathy lifted her own menu, and she smirked. She would try like hell to change his mind.


"Liv!" Dickie yelled from the dining room table.

Olivia ran in from the kitchen, a spoon in one hand and a large spatula in the other. "What? What happened?"

Dickie looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "Um, nothing. Calm down. I just have to ask you for a little help here. I hate history."

Olivia sighed. "God, don't yell like that. You worry me when you yell like that." She shook her head and cleared her throat. "What's your question?"

"Charlemagne…the country he saved because he killed someone or something…," Dickie said, a curious look on his face.

"Rome," Olivia answered. "I'm gonna finish dinner." She walked back into the kitchen, and she stirred the soup on the stove. She tasted it, made a face, and opened the cabinet to find salt. She reached for it, then flipped the chicken in the frying pan with one hand as she shook the salt into the pot with the other.

"You're pretty good at that for someone who can't cook." Maureen walked into the kitchen and leaned up against the wall, smirking.

Olivia chuckled. "I never said I couldn't cook, I just said I didn't cook." She tasted the soup, smiled and nodded at the pot, and turned to Maureen. "My mom…she was never in a condition to cook or clean, so I did it all. When I moved out on my own, I guess I was just so sick and tired of doing it."

"Your mom, uh, she was really that bad?" Maureen asked. "I don't wanna bring it up, and you don't have to talk about it, but…Dad's never really told us anything about your life outside of work."

Olivia smiled. "Mo, my mother was an alcoholic. She had anger issues and she was always drunk, on top of hating me because I was a constant reminder of the worst night of her life." She shrugged and said, "I guess she was pretty good considering all of that, but compared to what a real mother should be…she was awful."

"You didn't deserve that," Maureen said, shaking her head. "No kid does. But…and I know my father tells you this all the time…you're who you are because of her. Ya gotta thank her for at least that, Liv. You're strong because she wasn't. You're capable because she wasn't. You're courageous because she wasn't. And you're a natural-born mother, because she wasn't."

Olivia felt the sting at the back of her eyes, the burn behind her nose, but she refused to cry. "You're a great kid, Mo. Thanks for that."

"Just being honest," Maureen said. She turned around and said, "Hi, Dad." She gave him a kiss on the cheek and left the kitchen.

Olivia turned, her eyes widening. "Oh, hey."

He was smiling, his heart warmed over by the emotional moment he'd just infringed upon, and he said, "Hi, Liv."

She turned back to the stove and said, "The, uh, chicken has about ten more minutes, and the soup is just about done. I've got Lizzie and Kathleen setting the table, and Dickie said he'd wash the dishes. Let me know how this tastes, would ya? I haven't made it in a while?"

"You're not staying?" he asked, taking a step toward her.

"Why would I stay?" she asked. "You asked me to stay with the kids so you could talk to Kathy, you're back now, I don't have to…"

"Stay." He gave her a smoky look. A look she couldn't refuse.

She took a breath, though, and said, "I have to go, Elliot."

"Why?" he asked, grabbing her hand.

"Your kids…they don't even know what's going on with you and Kathy. I don't even think you know, so…they don't need me here, they don't need to see you looking at me…the way you look at me. Like you…"

"Want you?" he questioned. "Or like I love you?"

She blinked at him. "Both." She handed him the spatula, said, "Flip the chicken," and stepped away from him.

He grabbed her arm, stopping her, and pulled her back toward him. "Stay," he said again, more demanding. "Look at me."

She turned, though she was holding her breath, and she said, "I know what this is, El. I don't expect you to try to make me feel better about this by working me into your domestic…"

"What?" he interrupted. "What this is? What are you talking about?"

"This," she said. "You and me. I told you I was fine with what we're doing, and I don't want you to feel like…"

"Whoa, whoa, what we're doing?" He raised both eyebrows and said, "Did you talk to Becky?"

"No," she said with a sigh. "But I think I have to," she laughed. "Why?"

He leaned into her and he brought his lips perilously close to hers. "This isn't just sex, you know that. I love you. I'm in love with you. Please, don't think this is just physical."

She looked up. "I never thought that. I meant, right now, at this moment, this is technically an affair. You don't have to make me feel less like the other woman by…."

"You are not the other woman." His voice was firm. His eyes were dark and serious. "You have never come second to me, never. That is especially true now. You mean more to me than…"

She pressed her lips to his softly. "Thank you," she said, relief dripping from her words. "I was so afraid you'd…"

"Never," he interrupted. He kissed her again and said, "You're staying. Finish the chicken." He winked at her and said, "I, uh, I already ate. But while you guys are eating, I'll make something for…"

"Dessert's in the fridge." She smiled at him as she turned off the stove and started scooping the chicken onto a platter.

He opened the refrigerator and shook his head at the pie on the shelf. "You don't bake."

"No, I don't. But Sara Lee does, and nobody doesn't like Sara Lee," she joked.

He laughed, closed the fridge, and walked back over to her. He kissed her softly and hoped he could get through the night without needing it to be more than a kiss.

"Wow," Dickie said, dropping his fork to his empty plate. "That was amazing. I had no idea you could do that, Liv."

She grinned. "Well, now you do," she said.

Elliot had been watching her eat, watching the fork slip into her mouth, pull against her luscious lips. He had listened to her moans of satisfaction as she tasted and enjoyed the food, and he watched her smile and laugh with his children, and it all made him anxious and hot.

Olivia looked at him and she knew. "You okay?" she asked.

"No," he said, staring into her eyes. "No, I'm not." He got up quickly and stormed up the stairs.

"What happened?" Kathleen asked, looking at Olivia.

Olivia bit her bottom lip. "Um," she mumbled, "I'll go talk to him." She got up, walked up the stairs, and stepped down the hall. She took a shaky breath and knocked on his bedroom door. "El?" she called, pushing it opened slightly.

He grabbed her, threw her against the wall, and kicked the door closed. "Fucking ridiculous," he hissed, slamming his lips into hers as he worked a hand into her pants. "Can't…get…enough of you." He was out of breath, almost nervous, trying to get her pants off with one hand and stroking her to wetness with the other.

She moaned. Her head slammed into the wall behind her, she bit her lip, and she reached for his pants. "El, God," she whispered.

He dropped his head into the crook of her neck, his lips teasing at her skin, nipping at it lightly as he finally pushed down her jeans. "Need you. Now."

She let out a low groan, almost a sobbing sound, as he shifted his hips and his pants dropped. He didn't wait, and he wasn't gentle, he just lined up and slammed into her, at the same time grabbing her hips and hiking her legs around his waist.

She locked her ankles together and leaned back, enjoying the ride he was taking her on, and because she wasn't thinking, because her brain had all but ceased to work, she said those three words she couldn't consciously say. She bit her tongue as soon as she realized it, and she moaned as he thrust hard into her.

"I love you." He said it loud and clear, deliberately, and he moved faster and harder, holding onto her tighter. He covered her lips with his, knowing they couldn't be loud with his kids downstairs.

She wrapped her arms around him tightly and held on as she let go, tightening around him quickly and powerfully. "El," she moaned into his mouth. She bit and pulled on his bottom lip. "Oh, El."

"Shit, Liv," he panted. "Hold on for me, baby." He didn't want her to finish just yet. He wasn't ready to let go, or for her to let go, He was never ready for it to end.

"Can't hold on," she argued, her body shaking against his. As she clenched and released around him, he grunted, frustrated and loving every second of it.

He kept moving, he held her as she shook violently and let out a feral sounding, throaty, noise. "Oh, shit, Liv," he grunted, still hitting into her. He kept her going for a few moments more as he built up to his own climax. He thrust hard, grunting each time his pelvic bone met hers, and he finally came, hot and strong.

She almost collapsed, thankful he had a good grip on her. "My God," she panted, struggling to breathe.

"Liv," he whispered, "I think we're officially fucked."

She laughed. "Pun intended?" she quipped, trying to pick up her head.

"No, no, that…some may call it fucking, but we…that was nothing but love." He tugged lightly on her hair, lifting her head and kissing her lips. "I meant…this is uncontrollable. What have we gotten ourselves into?"

"I dunno," she said, sliding off of him and trying to stand on her weak legs. "But you'd better finalize your divorce and figure it out."

He chuckled, and he said, "I'm working on it, baby. That's what my dinner with Kathy was about. And before you ask, yes, she tried something. No, she didn't succeed, and I told her I wasn't changing my mind."

"Well, thank God for that," she said, pulling her jeans back on and slipping into her shoes. "I would really hate to see us try to end this."

"Liv," he said as she grabbed the doorknob. "Baby, this has only just begun."

A/N: A long session with Rebecca reveals things about Elliot. The kids go back to Kathy, and they tell her some things she doesn't want to hear. Review here or on Twitter: TMG212