A/N: "A surfeit of information often hides an untruth," he said, with annoying clarity." ― Jasper Fforde, Shades of Grey
DISCLAIMER: The characters aren't mine...yet.
"Uh, yes, ma'am," Elliot said, the phone held as close to his ear as possible. He was pacing back and forth in their hotel room's parlor, biting the thumb nail of his left hand. "Right, right. Absolutely. No, that…I understand that. My job…uh, well, it doesn't get in the way of the important things, I've never missed a football or soccer game, I've never skipped a parent-teacher conference, unless you count the once…well, twice my partner and I…oh, uh, Olivia, yes. Benson."
Olivia was trying not to listen, sitting on the couch reading, but her ears and her head perked up at the mention of her name. She watched him move, back and forth, wearing a pattern into the carpet. She had never seen him look as nervous as this, and it very nearly scared her.
"Yes, ma'am, that's right," he said, again, a new nail on a new finger now lodged between his teeth. Suddenly he froze, stiffened, stood almost at attention. His hand fell from his mouth. "Really? I mean, really, really? Oh, thank you, Your Honor!" He gave a slight victorious fist pump, maki8ng a face, and his eyes rolled heavenward and his shoulders finally relaxed. "You have no idea how much that…yes, I will. Thank you." He hung up, dropping the phone into its cradle on the coffee table, and did what he'd really needed to do since his phone rang. He fell into the couch, dropped his head into his hands, and cried.
"What happened?" Olivia asked, tossing her book aside and looping an arm around him.
Shaking his head, he buried his face in the bend of her neck, and sobbed lightly, laughing at the same time. "That was the judge…the one handling all this shit with Kathy." He lifted his head and sniffled. "Whenever we get out of this mess, when we…when we go home…" he smiled and looked upward again, saying a silent prayer of thanks. "The kids…are coming with me."
Olivia smiled brightly at him. "Really?" she asked, wide-eyed. "Oh, El, that's fantastic…"
He had cut her off, a good, hard kiss stopping her words. He cupped her face, pushing against her so her body fell back, into the couch. He moved one hand lower, down the side of her body, easing her gently until her head dropped to the arm of the sofa. He toyed with the drawstrings of her pants, still kissing her, whispering, "I know what you did," against her lips.
She mumbled something back to him, but he had deepened the kiss, pressed into her a bit more, making her words unintelligible. Her hands moved, then, around his neck, down his back, she chuckled against his lips when she heard him yelp in surprise, feeling him bucking into her as she grabbed his perfect ass.
"Playing with fire," he spoke, moving his lips away from hers to assault her neck with lavish attention.
She moaned, gripping him tighter, arching upward. "Am I?" she asked teasingly.
He bit her neck hard in response, and when her reaction was a loud, "Oh, God, Elliot," he took it as a sign. He nipped, bit, and sucked his way across her collar bone, to the other side of her neck, his hands trying to fight against their trembling to work into her pants.
Her moans of pleasure became moans of protest, and she pushed him back slightly. "Whoa, cowboy," she chuckled. "What has gotten into you?"
He narrowed his eyes, confused. "I don't think it's what's gotten into me," he said, and then he smirked. "It's what's about to get into you." He wagged his brows at her, but when she didn't resume kissing him, he sobered. "What's wrong?"
She sighed, biting her lip. "You don't have to…I don't want you to think you owe me anything," she said, pushing him away so she could sit up. "I did what I did because I…" she looked at him. "Because you know how I feel about you. It didn't take much. A phone call or two, a few little white lies," she shrugged. "You don't have to…"
"Is that what you think I'm doing?" he asked, hurt. He looked away from her, getting off the couch, and one hand flew to his mouth, rubbing hard, as the other rested on his hip. "Fuck, Liv, I'm not! I would never…" he turned sharply. "You think this is happening too fast, too fucking fast to be real? To mean anything? That it?"
She ran her hands through her hair, exhaling, but saying nothing.
"Or do you think that I'm so fucking eager to hop into bed with you because I'm not home fucking Kathy?" his voice cracked, proving he was just as upset and scared as he was angry. "Even if we were home, Liv, I wouldn't be fucking her, because I'm fucking in love with you! You think I would use you like that?"
"No, that…" she spoke, pointing at him, shaking her head and giving him a flat smile. "That I know you'd never do." She lowered her hand and her eyes. "I know…I can feel how much you…mean this." She held back tears and blinked quickly as she tried to look at him again. "I'm terrified," she admitted in a whisper. She felt herself paling. She had never let him see this side of her. Even during her mother's funeral, when he tried to be there to comfort her, in any and every possible way, she hid the more vulnerable emotions. She had snuck out of bed and into the bathroom to cry. Cry for her mother, cry over the fact that she'd fallen hopelessly in love with a married man, and let him hold her all night, wearing his best suit, because she was too proud to admit she didn't want to be alone, and because he wouldn't let her be alone anyway.
"It's never meant this much," she confessed. She gave one, single, hard, scoffing laugh. "My relationships…they've always been guys I kept at arm's length, kept from getting too close, so when they left…because of my job, because of my past, because of…me…it wouldn't completely destroy me. With you…you're all I've got, and losing you would…" she shook her head, refusing to say it out loud.
He moved toward her, seeing how distant her gaze had become, and he lifted her chin with three fingers. "Oh, honey," he laughed softly, looking down at her. "I'm petrified, too," he told her. "For the same reasons." He knelt down before her, moving his other hand to her face and holding it his hands. He bent his head and nuzzled her nose. "But I'm more afraid of giving up, now, of spending one more fucking day without you…the way I want you…the way I need you. I spent four years falling more in love with you than I thought was possible, and the closer we got, the more I fell, and I can't…" he stopped, he sighed. "My divorce has nothing to with you, Liv. I didn't leave Kathy just because I…"
"I know," she said softly, her eyes closing as she rested her forehead against his. "I already told you…I don't want to lose you, and I know…I suck at this. I'm gonna fuck up, and you're gonna realize how much better you could do, how much more is out there, and when you do…I'll completely break, because you are the only person…the only person in the world who has enough of me to break my heart."
He kissed her. A soft and gentle kiss, so tender. "Nothing you could ever do would make me run from this, or turn away from you. I'm not gonna break your heart, because that would kill me. Okay? That's never gonna happen," he promised her, kissing her softly again. "Trust me."
"You're the only person I trust," she said to him. "That's why…that's why I can't…"
"Liv," he interrupted, "Look at me." He waited until her eyes were set on his. "You know I could say the same exact thing to you, don't you? You've got…everything I have, everything I am, more than I have ever given anyone. Do you know, Olivia Benson, the power you have over me? How completely devoted to you I am, and have been, for years? Anything you want or need, anything you ask of me…even…even things that you don't have to ask…" he tried so hard to explain, but there were some things, he realized, that couldn't be said. He got to his feet, his barely healed ankle cracking as he moved, and he pulled her up with him, his hands still around his face. "I made this promise to you, four years ago, when you walked into that squadroom and sat behind that desk, I will never be the reason you hurt, I will never be the cause of your pain, and I will love, honor, protect, and defend you with everything I have, until the day I…"
It was her turn to silence him. She kissed him, and her body seemed to pick up on signals her brain didn't mean to send. She moved with him, toward the bedroom, but before they could kiss their way to the bed the room's phone rang.
He rolled his eyes and laughed at the absurdity of the situation. He pulled her toward him again, kissing her in spite of the ringing phone, hoping whoever it was would hang up.
The backs of her knees hit the mattress and she fell backward, flattening onto it, taking him with her. They laughed as they kissed, and there was no urgency, just slow, easy kisses and her fingertips running along his arms. In this kiss, they said everything for which they couldn't find the words.
Elliot took the chance, holding his breath, as he moved one hand down to the waistband of her pants. He pulled back from her, looking for any sign of hesitation or doubt, and when he saw nothing but love staring back at him, he slowly shoved the pants over her hips. He followed his hands with his mouth, kissing each bit of newly exposed skin, chuckling to himself when it became clear she wasn't wearing anything under the sweats.
He kept his mouth occupied, kissing and biting the skin of her inner thigh, as she bent her legs and let him tug the pants completely off of her. He gently pressed her legs back down as his eyes moved up to look at her again. Once their gazes locked, he moved, slowly, his mouth hovering over her bare, smooth, center. He eyed her, seeing the anticipation in her eyes, and he smirked as he bent his head.
He let his tongue swipe up her slit once, loving the way she bucked up and gasped. This was never something he had a great desire to do, not until Olivia, and he realized with just one taste of her, that he had found a new addiction. He rested one hand on her stomach, feeling it clench and roll, as he got to work, slowly licking upward, over and over.
Her hands wound themselves in his short hair, her nails scratched at his scalp, and she moaned his name and a few unladylike words. "Jesus, fuck, Elliot," she seethed, her eyes shut tight, just before her jaw dropped open.
He let his tongue move a little faster, deeper, swirling in intricate patterns, and when she began to thrust in a rhythmic motion, he caught her swelling clit between his lips. He sucked, slowly inching the fingers of his other hand to meet his mouth. He was amazed at the noises she was making for him, sounds he'd never coaxed from his ex-wife, and it made him eager to earn more from her, make her give him everything, as he'd promised to give her. One of his thick fingers slowly pushed into her.
"Oh, my God," she cried, twisting his hair with one hand and scratching up his scalp with the other. "Elliot, holy shit," she moaned, as she felt him pushing in one more finger.
He nipped her clit lightly with his teeth, and then flicked at it quickly with his tongue, simultaneously twisting and thrusting his two fingers, feeling her grow wetter with every move. He couldn't stop watching her eyes, her face at it contorted in pleasure and bliss, for him, because of him. He wrapped his lips around her clit again, holding it gingerly between his teeth as he kept sucking. "Come on, baby," he mumbled to her. Letting it go for a moment, he said, "Cum for me."
Her eyes rolled back hard at his words, her hands held his head down to her as her hips thrust into him. His voice alone turned her on, on a regular basis, but hearing him call her "baby" and begging her to cum, made her head spin and her entire body ache. "Elliot, God," she whimpered, feeling a burn begin to build. "Please," she whispered, her head dropping backward, "Please don't stop."
He smirked as he licked around his working his fingers, loving that he'd reduced her to such a wonton puddle of putty in his hands. He felt her pulsing around his fingers, and his heart stopped. Something he'd dreamt about, fantasized about, begged God to give him, was finally coming to life and he didn't want to miss it. He moved fast, keeping his fingers rolling and twisting and thrusting as he kissed his way up her body. He nipped at her chest through her top, and when he reached her face to face, he smiled at her. "I have been waiting…so long…to watch this," he panted. "Look at me," he said, demanding.
She rolled her head toward him, forcing herself to open her eyes. One hand was twisting the sheets beneath her like a machine, the other reaching for his face. She kept her eyes trained on him, wide open, as she felt his thumb begin to firmly press and circle her clit, and she exploded for him. "Oh, God, Elliot, yes," she spat out, rapid and breathless, her body jerking and bucking, but her eyes glued to his.
"Holy fucking shit," he said, still moving his fingers, not wanting this to end. He had never seen anything more gloriously beautiful, more incredibly sexy, or more intensely emotional as her, coming undone for him. He kissed her fast, hard, frantically, as his hand worked overtime in a desperate attempt to make her cum again. "Come on, baby," he breathed into her ear hotly. "One more for me, fuck, please," he whimpered, dropping his head to her neck. He kissed and bit and sucked. He moved fast, catching her earlobe in his mouth, sucking on it momentarily before licking the spot right behind her ear. He felt her clenching again, his heart was ready to burst as he watched her body arch again, and he covered her mouth with his just in time to catch a scream that would have surely disturbed the people in the next room.
Still kissing her, he slowed his fingers, gradually bringing her down. Pulling them away from her was almost painful, his wrist was aching, but his fingers itched to touch her again. He stopped kissing her, only long enough to suck each of his two fingers, keeping his eyes locked on hers as he did. Without words, he moved in again, kissing her with as much tenderness as he could, hoping she could feel it.
She moaned into his kiss, her right knee pressed between his legs, feeling his hardness twitch and pulse. She moved one hand down his back, over his hip, inching closer and closer to him, and just before she cupped him, just before she felt him at full attention for the first time, the phone rang again. "No," she complained, shaking her head as he rested his own against it, making their noses brush together.
He sighed, dejected, and kissed her forehead twice as he reached over to the end table to answer it. "Hello?" he questioned, knowing he couldn't answer it the way he usually would, since at this moment, no one was even supposed to know him as "Stabler."
As he listened to the person speak, he sat up, his eyes widened. "What? Are you sure?" he asked, his voice now laced with panic and fury. "Don't fucking mistake…are you absolutely…shit," he spat. He exhaled harshly and looked at Olivia. "No, she's…she's absolutely…perfect," he told the caller, unable to keep from smiling. He ran the pad of his thumb under her right eye and blew her a kiss.
She smiled back at him, moving closer to him. When he kissed her forehead again, she closed her eyes. He had hit spots inside of her, emotionally as well as physically, that no one ever had, that she didn't know existed, and she promised herself that she wouldn't screw it up this time. He was it for her, as long as he wanted her. "Yeah," she heard Elliot say, and her head popped back up.
"Okay, uh, no, we'll find a place…you can do that? Perfect." He took a moment. "Thanks." He hung up and got out of the bed, picking up any clothes, shoes, and books around the room. "Uh, we, uh, we gotta go," he said, pulling a black bag out from under the bed.
"What? Where? Why?" she asked, furrowing her brow as she caught the pants he threw at her. "I can't move my legs, right now," she said, rolling her eyes.
He laughed, leaning over the bed and kissing her slowly. "I will carry you, if I have to, but we need to get out of here." He started to empty the drawers as he spoke. "Cragen…wasn't a hundred percent honest with us."
She finally got out of the bed, on shaking legs, and moved to help him "My father isn't…"
"Oh, he is," Elliot said, nodding. "But the first time…that cop really was aiming for Cragen." He looked at Olivia with fear and pain in his eyes, the betrayal of someone close to him sinking in, the lines between friend and enemy no longer clear, the lines between friend and captain no longer mattering. "Honey, Cragen set us up." He kissed the end of her nose and looked into her eyes. "We're bait."
A/N: …O..O O..o o..o