Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.

She was fairly certain she had only fallen asleep a minute ago; she was also pretty damn sure she was going to kill whoever had the balls to call her at such an ungodly hour of the night. She didn't open her eyes as she shot a hand out to blindly search for the offensive device that was beeping and buzzing around on her nightstand.

"Benson," she mumbled with a half-closed mouth, her face still pressed into her pillow. Once she heard the voice on the other end, though, she was wide awake. "Oh, hi. Yeah…um, I was." She sat up slowly so the sleeping caveman next to her wouldn't rouse. "It's okay," she assured, rubbing the dregs of sleep out of her eyes as she shifted her body toward the edge of the bed. She got up easily and padded barefoot into the hallway, hoping her eyes would adjust to the dark fast. She looked over her shoulder, seeing him still sound-asleep, and she ran her tongue around her teeth and gums a few times to keep herself from mumbling again.

"I know he didn't," she said, a little bit of guilt and a lot of resentment hanging on the words, which she hoped came off as exhaustion. "Uh, yeah, he…he's here, actually." She cringed when she said it, hating herself for her innate inability to lie unless the situation absolutely demanded it. She honestly wasn't sure if this one did. "The…um, the couch," she spat out quickly. If she didn't think about it, the lies came so easily. "By the time we finished up, it was almost two-in-the-morning, he didn't want to…" she listened, "Well, he didn't think you were seriously going to wait up for him, Kathy."

She sighed as she felt her way toward her couch, the one on which Kathy now believed Elliot had been sleeping. She held in a yelp and clenched her jaw tightly when she stubbed her toe on the foot of the coffee table, making indiscriminate sounds of response to whatever Kathy was saying. Plopping down softly, she lifted her leg and rubbed her throbbing toe as she finally heard a few words: "Question, advice, help, lawyer, divorce," and a few phrases in between that may have helped her make more sense of her babbling if her heart hadn't stopped. "I could talk to him," she said, "But I already have. A couple of times. And Kathy, I know you don't want to hear this, but…I think…I think he's…" she froze.

"Kathy, please don't…don't cry," she begged, her head dropping forward into her free hand. Christ. The guilt that had been knocking at her stomach for months was now fully formed and taking over. "I know. I know the kids mean everything to him, he…he talks about them constantly. How proud he is of them, how much he loves them, and how much he really hates his job sometimes, because it takes him away from…" she stopped again, something Kathy said sending a wave of nauseous-making fear over her. "What? No, no, I know he wouldn't do that. Not…no, he would never quit, but he does have a few vacation days coming, he told me he talked to you about taking the kids to…yeah, well, I guess he meant it would just be him and the kids, Kathy, he's been pretty, uh, vocal about the separation."

She fell backward into the couch cushions behind her, letting her head drop, and stared disbelieving and unblinking at her cracked, water-damaged stucco ceiling. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she made a note to ask Elliot to caulk and repaint it this weekend, but consciously she was having a war with herself. Listening to her partner's wife make wild claims that she thought her husband was having an affair, while, at the same time, being the person he was having it with, made every cell in her body tighten.

Her voice, just above a whisper, spoke the words that, once-upon-a-time, she thought were the epitome of truth. "Kathy, he would never do something so dishonorable. He's Catholic, he's a marine, and he's…Elliot." She closed her eyes. "He would never do that to someone…someone he loves."

Her head snapped back up, her heart cracked, her brain seized, and her blood ran ice cold. "What did you just say?"

"You heard me, Olivia," Kathy's voice sobbed. "He doesn't love me. Not anymore. I think…Olivia, I think he's in love with someone else. I think…I think it's you."

There was pure silence, intensely so, as thoughts and the war between confession and denial raged on in Olivia's mind and heart. "I…um, I don't…Kathy, listen, I…"

"I know he hasn't told you," Kathy interrupted, sniffling as she paused. "I mean, he's always had ruled against getting too close to his partners, but you…there's something different with you. This connection you two have, this bond, it happened almost instantly, didn't it? I'm not sure he's ever had someone like you in his life, Olivia. Not even me. I think…with you, for some reason, he finds parts of himself that I never knew existed, maybe he didn't either. You've given him something, I don't know what, that he needed. That he will need for the rest of his life. You give him…stability. If that's the word. That's something God knows I tried to provide, but he would never let me in deep enough, never let himself go too far with me, and it just all comes so easily with you."

Olivia was the one crying now. Silent tears running down her cheeks, her eyes still fixed on the most damaged corner of her ceiling. She didn't know whether to apologize to her or thank her.

"I know…well, at least, I'm choosing to believe that you don't know, but I see it. I've seen it for months now. It's in the little things, the way he looks at you, the way his face changes just a bit when he says your name, the way he talks about you, like you're his guardian angel, and for a while I thought I was overreacting, that it was just jealousy because he really couldn't stand his last partner, and he was still my Elliot when he came home," Kathy went on. "But he stopped coming home, Olivia. Sure, he walked through the doors and he took his showers, and he came to bed, but he never came home. I am praying with every ounce of faith left in me that I'm wrong about this, for both of our sakes, but, Olivia, I think he's only home when he's with you, now."

Another tear rolled down her cheek. "Kathy…" she eked out, "What do you want me to do, here? If you're right…I can't change the way he feels. I can't just walk away from this job, either, so I'm…" she sniffed and tried to move, but she felt a strong hand wrap around her, keeping her still. She closed her eyes again, realizing it was Elliot, realizing that he was there, and that he could probably hear a good chunk of the conversation. "Why did you call me?"

She felt Elliot's hand begin to move, the pads of his fingers tracing detailed patterns into the skin of her arms. She felt his body move, his head dip, his lips gently swipe along the crook of her neck. She put her hand over the mouth-end of her phone and turned to look at him. "Stop," she scolded, her voice still shaking.

He shook his head at her, moving one hand upward. He brushed his thumb lightly under her eyes, wiping away the tears. "She's right," he whispered to her. "About everything." He kissed her forehead and heard her take a breath, feeling her body tremble. He pulled her closer and tried not to listen to the last part of their conversation.

"Okay," Olivia said, her eyes shut. She leaned back, into Elliot, and said, "What if you're wrong?" She laughed. "You sound so sure of all this, Kathy, but I…I don't get it." She turned her head and looked up at Elliot, speaking to him as much as she was speaking to Kathy. "I don't really believe anyone could love me like that, especially someone like him. I don't…I don't deserve that kind of…"

He stopped here from speaking with a kiss. A terribly soft, noiseless kiss, carefully cupping her face to keep her still, knowing his soon-to-be-ex-wife was on the phone. He just couldn't let her finish that sentence. He pulled back, tears springing to his eyes, and he shook as head at her.

Kathy must have said something similarly protesting, because she smiled and said, "Oh, uh, well, thank you, Kathy." She sniffled again and said, "I, um, I will. You, too, Kathy. Um. Goodnight."

Elliot pulled the phone out of her hands before she could even end the call. He pushed a side button and tossed it onto the coffee table before pulling Olivia to him, crashing his mouth into hers in a powerfully crushing kiss that reached the depths of her soul. He pried open her mouth with his tongue, his hands working their way up, under her pajama top, smoothing over her bare back.

She moaned, shock and desperation caught in the air between her mouth and his, and her hands flew to the back of his head. Her nails scratched at his scalp, making him growl against her lips, and she felt herself being pressed backward, down into the sofa.

He made quick work of her pants, working them off and throwing them to the floor, and he laughed when she gasped, after he had yanked her top off seemingly without her realizing it. He managed to wriggle out of his own sweatpants at the same time, and he looked down at her with pure love in his eyes as he gave a hard thrust of his hips and kissed her again, sheathing himself inside of her.

She let a moan loose into his mouth, taking him all the way in, arching her back.

"You…" he breathed softly, "Deserve to be loved, so fucking loved, Olivia. And I…"

"I know," she gasped, feeling him pull out and thrust in, feeling every inch of him drag and push and fill her so entirely. "God, El, I know."

"I don't think you do," he whispered. He moved slowly, deeply, kissing her softly, breathing in short, hot, bursts against her lips. "You'll never know how much….fuck, how much I…"

"El," she said, stopping him and curling her nails into his back, "Baby, I know." She could almost feel his skin snapping, knowing she was leaving crescent-moon shaped bruises beneath her fingers. "Elliot. God, Elliot," she whispered over and over, a perfect mantra.

He bent his head and kissed her again, fiercely this time, and moved harder, faster, staking a claim on her that neither of them could deny. He gripped her hands, his fingers linking with hers and he whispered a promise, a vow, into her ear.

Her back arched again. "Fuck, God, Elliot," she cried, and she nodded finally telling him she agreed, wholly, with the words he'd just whispered to her. She knew, now, how serious he was, and had been, and the part of her that doubted it was silenced.

Finally admitting and accepting how truly serious this all was would make it that much harder to do as Kathy had asked, and pretend she didn't know how he felt. For the sake of his kids, she would try, but something on the horizon would certainly make it more difficult than she could possibly imagine.

Peace and Love

Jo