A/N: Here is chapter 9! I'm thinking that I'll finally be wrapping this up after this with one more chapter. I feel like I owe you guys the heads up that this story won't be one of those "Elliot leaves Kathy and lives happily ever after with Olivia" endings. So if that's your preferred thing, you may want to bail out before the next chapter is over. Haha I'm not really intending on a sad ending either, though, if that helps you. Writing the angst was intense for me this chapter, plus I was down with a nasty cold for a week and was too tired to write. Please enjoy! I do love reviews! Pairing is E/O, since that's all I'm interested in writing currently.

Rating: M/MA - Heed the rating on this chapter, please!

Spoilers: Major/Minor spoilers for Perverted, PTSD, Smut

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Dick Wolf, not myself. No copyright infringement intended, and no money is being made.

* IX *

By the time they got back onto the highway and into Manhattan, the rain had finally relented. Their silence on the rest of the drive had not been awkward, yet Elliot wondered what would happen once they were back to their day-to-day lives and routines.

After the picnic kiss, they had spent weeks going on as if nothing had happened. El knew better than to think they could turn back from this place they'd reached - but he worried that Liv would try.

They parked the Mustang and he reminded her to switch out the spare before she drove again. Without invitation, he followed her up to her apartment, but stopped short of crossing the threshold. Liv tossed her keys onto the counter and then turned back to face him, looking him over as he leaned against the door jamb, arms crossed.

"Thank you . . . " she said slowly, "for spending all this time with me."

El's pulse began to pound and his mind whispered, Don't Liv . . . don't shut me out. Please.

"My pleasure," he said, his lips numb as he smiled.

She crossed to face him, her eyes never leaving his mouth. El found himself not wanting to go home to Kathy. Such an alien feeling for a man who had so much built on fidelity, on family - until that day.

When Liv reached up and touched his lip gently with a fingertip, he looked nervously into her beautiful dark eyes. Elliot was not a man who knew how to be vulnerable, and now he was out of control and alive. His whole life seemed a scorched desert, and he had finally found an oasis. If he drank too much too fast, he'd surely die. But he wasn't sure there was a force that could turn him away.

"I don't wanna . . . go . . . without," he faltered, her finger still at his mouth.

Maybe that was the whole thought: I don't want to go without. He opened his mouth and the tip of Liv's finger slid inside. He moved his tongue against it, hearing her breathing quicken. She pulled her hand back and replaced her finger with her mouth, tasting his tongue like she hadn't been doing just that, barely an hour ago.

Taking his hand as she kissed him, she pushed it into her jeans, desperate to feel him against her again. Elliot found her center, sighing into their kiss.

Oasis.

Elliot picked her up easily, wrapped her around his waist and kicking the door shut behind them. He took her to the bed he'd spent recent nights chasing demons away from. He undressed her tenderly, reverently, admiring every curve and dip that the confines of the Mustang had hidden.

His lips marked her in ways he had never even dreamed. The skin behind her knees, the underside of her breasts. For ten years, he had been puffing out his chest like a rooster, chasing off the men who'd dare come near Olivia - all because of his conviction that this moment was somewhere to be found.

El memorized every part of her dark skin, and the sounds his touch drew from her lips. As her inner thighs quivered with her soundless anticipation, he rested his cheek there, catching his breath.

When he dipped his tongue into her wet heat, tasting her in ways his fingertip never could, he felt humbled. El drank deep, parting her over and over with his tongue, flicking her engorged clit with its tip, before drawing it into his mouth.

They had found a place, at last, where there was no job, no evil they had to chase at the price of their sanity. There was no world outside to complicate the purity of their coming together. The power and freedom of her body under him, so willingly given was more than he could take.

"Oh God," Liv breathed, "Elliot . . . "

He moved his tongue over her again, harder. "Come, Liv . . . I want you to come in my mouth," he told her, his voice low. She moaned at his request, arching under his mouth.

He slipped a finger into her, fucking her with it slowly, his mouth never leaving her swollen clit. There would never be enough of her for him to claim.

She came with a long, gritted growl of his name, and her clit pulsed against his tongue, rewarding him with more for him to drink from her. Olivia had a taste that went straight to his cock.

When Elliot finally pulled away and covered her body with his, he saw she was crying. His veins filled with ice. Reaching trembling fingers to her face, he whispered, "Liv? Do you want me to stop?"

Her arms flew around his neck in response. "No! El. Don't stop. Don't ever stop. Please . . . " her words were a whimpered supplication. She took a deep breath, reaching between them to wrap her hand around his cock. Turning her mouth to his ear, she whispered, "Love me, El. I've waited so long."

Still holding him, she guided him to where she needed him to be. With a shift of his hips, Elliot was buried in her - and closer to understanding her tears. Elliot moved slowly, working to control himself, not wanting to leave this cocoon of safety they'd found.

Liv's fingers danced over his buttocks, and he moved harder. She was so wet he could hear their sliding together. He groaned, "Liv . . . God . . . you're amazing."

She responded by bucking her pelvis to meet his as he thrust. The weight and warmth of her, pushing against the base of his cock made him cry out and pick up speed.

"Liv," he whispered, "Liv . . . look at me." She met his eyes and it was all he needed. They never took their eyes from each other as he shook, emptying in her, while her breath hitched, up and up . . . and then out, as she joined him in that safe place that had taken ten years to find.

eoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeo

The sound of El's cell phone ringing brought them out of their reverie. They weren't asleep - not really - just silent in the yawn of the afternoon, tangled together in a moment they knew was borrowed.

El extracted himself from the comfortable embrace and dug his phone from the pocket of his discarded pants. Liv was grateful that he took the call out of the bedroom, even shutting the door behind him.

"Elliot, where have you been?" Kathy asked, "When are you coming home?"

Just the sound of her voice was like a weight bearing down on him that constricted his chest. He struggled to hang onto the day, to hang onto feeling safe.

"Hey hun. I've been workin." The lies came so easily, smooth. "I'm coming home soon." His eyes flickered to the closed bedroom door.

Home was on the other side of that door, and Elliot was deeply afraid that he'd never get there again.

"Uh-huh," he mumbled, not really hearing Kathy's voice at all. When her voice stopped, he inserted, "Okay, see you both soon."

When he turned to the door again, it was open. Liv stood there, in a t-shirt and a pair of shorts she'd thrown on. "Everything okay?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah. It's just - "

"Time to go home," she finished for him.

Elliot sighed and balled a fist, looking down at the phone in his hand, resisting the urge to pitch it against the wall.

"Olivia," he tried, his voice filled with pain he could hardly recognize as his own.

She shook her head and forced a weak smile. "It's fine."

The lies came so easily. Smooth.

"They're your family, El," she said.

He felt all of it - the comfort, the safety, the life he'd felt catch fire in him - slipping back to the who-knew-where from whence it'd came. Defeated and unsure of himself, he stepped past Liv in the doorway and got himself dressed.

She was at the end of the kitchen counter when he came out and crossed to the apartment door, slipping into his shoes. El met her eyes, willing himself not to tremble at the possibility of leaving without touching her.

Liv took a step towards him. "Have a good night, El," she said. With her arms crossed, she leaned in and up, catching his lips in a soft, brief kiss.

As he stepped into the hallway, he was acutely aware of the door shutting and locking behind him. If that was the kiss he was now supposed to live on, Elliot knew he would surely starve.

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The next morning, Elliot found himself in the locker room of the 1-6, head in his hands. He had spent a sleepless night on the couch, after chastely kissing Kathy and holding Eli long enough for Kathy to relax, to stop asking questions.

Olivia's desk was still empty.

He had texted her just after dawn, checking on her . . . finding excuses to keep in touch. She hadn't answered him. Elliot had never felt so unstable - like a teenager, caught in the middle of a breakup by text message.

And part of this huge, cosmic joke was his realization of how much he had always relied on his work relationship with Liv, long before finding respite in her body. His day had barely begun and everything was off-kilter. He'd left without waking Kathy, had to remind himself three times that he didn't need to bring coffee or breakfast for Liv, and had stared at her empty desk long enough to draw questions from both Cragen and Fin.

El got up and checked his phone for just about the hundredth time in the last two hours. Still nothing. With a growl of disgust at himself, he headed back to the bullpen wondering how long before he stopped feeling like a stranger in his own life.

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"Figured I'd find you up here."

Elliot turned, the sound of Liv's voice washing over him like warm water over frost. Despite being irritated that she hadn't texted him all day, Elliot smiled at her as she approached him on the precinct roof.

"How was the day?" she asked him.

He shrugged. "Long. You okay?"

"I'm okay."

Elliot wanted to touch her. He wanted to pick her up and place her on the low cement ledge and stand between her legs. To close his eyes and be in that safe place again so he could stop feeling untethered.

Olivia slid her hand into El's, and he let out a breath he'd been holding.

"Nobody wins, here, El," she told him quietly. He opened his mouth to contradict her, but shut it again as she levelled a look at him. "Eli is . . . so young," she exhaled. "He's the entire reason you went home in the first place." She was telling him the truths he was too afraid to tell himself.

"Even if i asked you to, which I wouldn't, you shouldn't leave that. Eli deserves as much of you as the rest of your kids had. I've never met a man more born to be a father."

Elliot ached to tell her about the man only his mother had really envisioned, who was passionate about more than just the monsters who preyed on children. He wanted to be vulnerable with her, tell her of the life he dreamed of, if Kathy and the Marines had never happened. El wanted to show her he was more than just responsibility, honour, duty. He was more than just a man who followed orders.

He squeezed the hand in his. "Liv - " he said painfully. He so clearly recalled the moment he had first told Olivia that Kathy was pregnant for the last time - and even then, in their interrupted moment, it had felt like something immense had slipped away.

"Elliot," she breathed, "we just can't. There's too much at stake."

He knew she was right. He felt ripped in half, suffocated, pinned. In an effort to feel something, anything other than pain, Elliot picked Olivia up swiftly, hands at her hips, and sat her on the ledge they'd been facing. Cupping her face in his hands, he brought his mouth to hers, seeking some unearthly answer that life wasn't providing.

When Liv stopped the kiss with a hand to El's wrist, he dropped his from her face, both of them panting. She slid from the ledge.

"I'm coming back to work," she told him. Not waiting for a reply, she walked back to the door to the stairs, and left him on the roof, alone in the December chill.

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True to her word, Olivia came back to work. Their mutual pain and frustration immediately found a case to bury themselves in. Going through the motions did, somehow, make it a little more bearable. And they pulled it off well enough that nobody at the squad was asking questions.

But sooner rather than later, they were butting heads.

He hadn't been to her apartment since the day they got back from Jersey. Elliot had been watching Liv drink more and more coffee as the days went on. He knew she wasn't sleeping - he had only been catching a few hours here and there himself, mostly in the crib at work. It was killing him, killing them both, slowly.

On the roof, she may have been right, but El already knew this was never going to work.

Olivia came slamming through the unit door. "What the hell were you thinking?!"

El eyed her, wary, irritated. He had been waiting for this fallout. "I was thinkin about getting a serial rapist off the street," he answered, rising from his desk to face down Liv's rage.

"I wanna catch the guy as much as you do, but what about Laurel Andrews?!"

He stopped himself from shaking his head at her, hearing her distance herself, as if 'the guy' hadn't already been in their grip. "How many times have you said confronting the attacker is the only way to move on?"

"Laurel doesn't have to move on!" Liv cried, "In her mind she wasn't even raped!"

Caught between anger and sympathy, knowing she was identifying with the vic, El kept pushing toward logic, toward the great detective he knew she was. "Lutz will learn from his mistakes, he'll improve his M. O., and then we'll never get him. You can't change what happened to Laurel."

"I can protect her from the damage."

Reaching for his jacket, El's anger rose back to the surface. "No. You can't. You know that better than anyone."

He left Liv, gaping after him as he went out the door she had come crashing through. Barely a moment later, he heard the door again, and Olivia rocketing after him.

"How dare you?!" she bit out. He didn't stop walking, and her hand landed on his shoulder, pulling him roughly to face her.

El's anger drained out of him when he met her eyes. if he thought she would let him, without punching him, he'd back her up into the nearest quiet room and remind her that his mouth knew how to help her heal, too.

"Liv. Listen to me. If we want to keep this guy from hurting someone else - and you do, I know you do - then Laurel Andrews is our best and only shot at doing it. Show Laurel how to be strong," Elliot lowered his voice, touching her forearm lightly.

"That's what you're best at, Liv. You're great with the victims because you show them how to reclaim their lives, not focus on the damage. And I need you on this."

Olivia's lip trembled, and he wondered if it was for want of crying, or for want of kissing. "Liv, I'm sorry. Just . . . help me on this. Please."

She stood up a little straighter, take a deep breath. "Yeah." She nodded. "Yeah. Let's go."

Elliot waited for her to start down the hall, always allowing her to lead the way.

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The Lutz case dragged on for much longer than either of them could have anticipated. Being there for Laurel was taking a noticeable toll on Liv, and Elliot's strength for leaving her to her own devices was wearing thin.

Just when it seemed they could see the light at the end of the tunnel, they'd been forced to hand over the information requiring Judge Moredock to recuse himself. And just like that - back to square one.

Olivia was in the squad room the following day, pouring herself another cup of what now seemed like an endless amount of coffee she consumed on a daily basis. Elliot was at his desk, not quite paying attention to anything in particular. Neither of them had slept well in the weeks since they had made the decision not to be together. At home, El and Kathy had been bickering over . . . well, everything, which was beginning to take its toll on Eli.

Elliot knew something had to give, and soon.

"Detective Benson?"

El vaguely recognized the voice to be Laurel Andrews'. The next thing he heard was a sharp slap, as Laurel hit Olivia across the face. He saw red before he could help himself, stumbling up from his desk, at the ready to shoot across the squad room.

But Liv held out a hand to stop him. "I'm fine," she nearly whispered, her voice still shocked.

"You're going to make me go through this again?!" Laurel cried.

"It was my duty to turn those photos over," Liv explained, her voice controlled, trying to rein Laurel in.

"I thought your duty was to protect victims like me?!" she spat.

"Believe me, Laurel, the last thing that I wanna do is to hurt your case."

But Laurel was beyond reining in. "You made me remember - relive that awful night!" she accused Olivia tearfully, "And now for the rest of my life I will never get those horrible images out of my head!"

Liv opened her mouth to respond, but Laurel jumped back in, enraged. " - and I won't testify again!" She swung on her heel without even considering giving Liv a chance to try again.

Elliot crossed to Olivia before Laurel could finish blowing out of the unit like a storm. "You okay?" Her cheek was flaring red from the slap and El winced internally.

"No." Liv gave a long glance over El's shoulder and then left the unit as well, leaving him wanting, yet fearing, clarification.

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After her breakthrough regarding the engagement ring Lutz had purchased, Cragen had insisted that Olivia shower and get some sleep while he put together the phone trace that would make up the next part of Olivia's plan.

Excited but exhausted, Liv climbed the stairs to the crib, thinking ahead to what she'd say to convince Lutz to do what she needed. She entered the dim room and reached for the switch, thinking it ws empty - then caught her breath when she saw Elliot.

He was asleep on what he considered 'his' cot, near the middle, face to the ceiling and one hand resting on his lower stomach. His hand had pushed his shirt up, just high enough that Liv could see his belly button and a smattering of dark hairs.

Her heart dropped, and her groin filled with heat and blood as she remembered the feel of that belly against hers. Taking a breath, she was irritated to realize it was shaking. She gave her head a shake, left the light off and took a few steps closer to him, watching his chest rise and fall. The want to touch him . . . to collapse on top of him in order to be able to really sleep, was immense. Liv was dizzy and nauseous with it.

She missed the way she had slept when Elliot had stayed with her. She wanted the heat, the shelter of his body. This separation from each other that she had imposed, she now feared would kill her. With a final, hungry look, she rounded the corner to the showers.

When the hot water hit her body, Liv couldn't stop herself from letting out a groan. She had been working non-stop almost 18 hours and needed to relax. She tried to do just that, watching the water course down over her skin. There was just a standard bar of soap in the precinct showers, and she reached for it, sliding it down over her belly. Bringing it up between her legs, she discovered that at least one part of her was still thinking about Elliot.

Pulling the soap away, she slid a finger into its place, touching softly, licking her lips. When her fingertip found her slippery clit, she whimpered. Liv thought of Elliot - the taste of him, the throbbing hardness of him, around her and in her.

Sheer terror was the only thing that kept her from screaming in the next moment, when a strong, heavy arm slid around her from behind. And then she could feel the belly she'd just been pining for, against her back. Liv felt the dark hairs, too, and Elliot's hard cock.

"Let me do that," his low voice rumbled next to her ear. He pulled her hand away, replacing it with his own.

Olivia let her tired head fall back to his shoulder as his thick, warm fingers found their way home.