A/N: First, THANK YOU!! So much, for all of the amazing reviews! You'll never know how much it means to me! Now, Is Agent Benson gonna say it? And, there's a tiny smutlet, and something big goes down in Special OPs, which forces Benson to move out of her penthouse *shock*
DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and the characters. I own this little saga. TStabler©
Elliot was never one for letting things he wanted slip through his fingers so he stormed into the library after her. "Olivia, you can not just walk away, when..."
She was sitting, flipping through the pages of a leather bound book, hyperventilating and checking her own pulse.
"Liv!" He ran over to her and knelt down beside her. "Are you okay?"
"Panic attack. Haven't had one since I was fifteen. Since they found me," she said in between short, tense breaths. "You said...you love me."
"I don't know, Liv. I can't get you out of my head, you make my heart beat ninety miles a minute, I am so turned on by the way you, like, breathe! I've only known you for a few days but I know you better than I know my own sister. You make me nervous, and scared, and happy and excited and when I'm not with you, the only thing I can think about is being with you, Liv. I think that's love."
"It is," she said as she held up the book. "Textbook definition."
He laughed. "You had to look it up?" She nodded, biting her bottom lip. Elliot knew that this was her only nervous habit. "I didn't know what was happening to me, El. Special Ops are trained to not have feelings until they meet their…"
"Mate," he finished for her.
"Yes. Emotions like love, they were abolished in training. I haven't felt love in such a long time, and I've never been in love before."
"Before?" He asked, pulling her out of the seat.
"Before you, El." She took a step toward him. "I might love you." She looked at his face, a mixture of shock and giddiness, and then she flipped through a few pages of the book. "Either that, or I have very bad indigestion, acute appendicitis, seasonal affective disorder, a sexual addiction, aversion to the color green, an allergy to shellfish and a severe heart condition. If that's the case, I should be hospitalized and heavily medicated."
"Well, I hope, for your sake, it's just love." He pulled the book out of her hands and threw it over his head, it landed with a thud on one of the tables in the far corner. "Yeah, with me in the hospital, who'd save your ass?" she teased, pulling him toward her by his belt and letting a hand graze his erection. "Good question, baby, but I think your team of miracle doctors could fix any problem in seconds," he said, pulling her shirt off, over her head, in one move, with one hand. "Only if someone signs the consent forms. I don't have a personal medical proxy."
She pulled his shirt off, but needed both of her hands to do it, and pecked tiny kisses along his chest. "I'll sign anything if it'll keep you alive, baby," he said as he unhooked her bra and let it slide off of her body.
"I am going to be in so much trouble for this," she said with a smirk. "But, I've just realized, that I don't really give a shit." They went to work on each other's pants, sliding them off, kicking out of them. "I didn't mean it, El. You're not just a task. You're not even just a mate. You're..." Elliot lifted Olivia onto the table and, now that he was totally sure he wouldn't hurt her, he thrust into her, completely, fully, in one smooth move. "Liv, I know, baby. I know." He kissed her, consumed her. Then he pulled away, slowly. "Liv?" Her lips were pressed together, her head was thrown back in ecstasy and her eyes were closed, but her head rolled toward him at the sound of her name. "Hmmm?"
As he started to set their pace, pulling almost completely out before pushing all the way back into her, sensually, passionately, he kissed her once on each eyelid, forcing them to open, then he kissed her full on the mouth. He looked her right in her chocolaty eyes and said "I love you, too."
They were lying on the large, cherry table, limbs entangled, bodies fit together, tightly, perfectly. "Three hours. On a table. In my goddamn library. You know Harry Potter has been watching us the whole time?"
"Perverted little wizard isn't he," Elliot quipped, jerking his head toward the bookshelf to their left, which was filled with nothing but Rowling's books. Every edition in every possible language translation.
Suddenly, a red light flashed and an alarm blared. Olivia pushed Elliot off of her and jumped off of the table. "Oh, God, No! How the fuck...shit!" She ran into her bedroom and immediately started to get dressed. Elliot followed her. "Should I be scared, here?"
"Yes."
"Good, because I am."
He watched in utter shock as she pressed a palm to a blank spot on the wall and the back of her closet opened up, revealing an arsenal of weapons that were unlike anything he'd ever seen before. "You can not come with me, you can not be involved in this," she started, "Unless you get dressed."
He looked down, saw that he was still naked, and ran to his closet. When he came back, in another new suit, she was in her techno-vest and she, surprisingly, had one for him. "Put this on. Don't ask questions. This," she said, holding out a black, heavy, weapon to him, "Works like a regular Glock, only you can certainly not survive being shot by this fucker. Do not aim or fire unless I say so."
"Yes, Ma'am." She snapped her head up and looked at him with a very odd expression, and her eyes widened.
"Yes, Benson?" He asked. Her expression didn't change, and she still said nothing. "This is a task, I committed The Five to memory. Right now, I'm not your boyfriend, or your task I am your subordinate. Whatever we're doing, let's do it," he declared as he pulled back on the cartridge and loaded the weapon.
She looked at him for a beat and said, "I really do love you."
He smiled and winked at her. "I know." She led him out through the back of her penthouse, a door that he'd never seen before, and up a staircase, also one he'd never seen before. They were quiet and very stealthy. He couldn't even hear the click of her heels.
They came to a foreboding set of double doors and stopped. She caught his eye, and he knew instantly what to do. She nodded, and simultaneously, as if they had been working together for years, they each kicked one panel of the door open and walked through, holding their weapons out. They looked around corners, down hallways and as they drew closer to the CIC's central office, they saw the Primary Response team surrounding a cuffed, kneeling agent and a man in a suit lying on the floor, with a huge, devastating weapon wound in his back.
"Report!" Olivia barked. Everyone in the room turned and saluted, shouting a clear, loud, "Good Evening, Agent Benson."
"Good Evening. Now, report!" A middle aged agent stepped forward and bowed his head, taking off his cap. "Agent Benson, at twenty-one-hundred, the alarm sounded and we, as Primary Response, acted immediately. However, upon arriving, which was mere seconds before you, Ma'am, we discovered that un-sub now known as D. Lewis had terminated CIC, using her lethal task weapon. Motive unknown. Remorse from assailant is unexpressed."
"Thank you, Agent Monroe," Olivia said as she snapped her weapon to her vest, then signaled Elliot to do the same. "PR, you are excused. Fall out." At her words, the Primary Response team left, leaving her alone in the room with Elliot, Lewis and three Internal Agency Affairs Negotiators, the Special Ops' IAB.
Olivia knelt down beside Lewis and rested a hand on the cold-eyed woman's knee. She whispered, because she was about to break protocol. "Why? Why would you do this, Dana?"
Lewis snapped her head up. "First name, Ma'am?"
"This is a delicate matter," Olivia said. "I need your reason. If this was self defense, you won't be...well, you know."
"I had many reasons, Agent Benson. He just wouldn't stop. No matter how many times I asked, or begged, and he was so rough," Lewis said. Olivia's eyes darted up to Elliot. They had themselves a Special Victim. "I tried to convince myself that I could live with it. Treat it like a task. But then, when I heard what he did to you..."
"Okay, Lewis. You've given us enough of a motive..." Olivia tried to get her to stop before she said anything. She did not want to be implicated in the death of the CIC.
"No, Agent Benson. You have to know what this man did. He didn't pull your mating status because of the guidelines Porter enacted, he pulled your mating status because Agent Porter blackmailed him. I wasn't the only female agent the CIC was using and Porter has proof." Olivia's face fell. Shit. "He threatened to go to Universal if the CIC didn't order the change of your mate. I had to kill him before he could do that or you'd be stuck mating with..."
"Oh, my God. You are not telling me what I think you are telling me Lewis."
"I am, Agent Benson. If I did not come in when I had, the CIC was going to change your permanent mate to Agent Porter." Lewis looked up at the IAAN beside her and nodded, and the man pulled her to her feet, escorting her out of the room.
A man cleared his throat and began to speak. "Agent Benson, when the Victim Disposal and Scene Disinfection and Purification taskforces are finished, the Architectural Design team will be rearranging your quarters. You need to go down to HQ and be sworn in, and you will need to verify life partner as soon as possible. This is a crucial and emergent matter, Ma'am. Time is of the essence."
Olivia gaped at the agent in front of her. "Say again?"
"I said, Agent Benson, when the Victim Disposal...
"I heard you, Conrad! I'm just in a bit of shock! You've just told me that...I need to get mar...legally and irrevocably bound to another human being... and be sworn in as the American and British...tonight!" She held her hand to her chest and started breathing very heavily. "Jesus Christ."
"Who's that? Oh, is he your life partner? He sounds very nice, Ma'am," the stout agent said,
"No! You impotent little...no, I don't exactly have a life..." she put a hand up against the wall and looked at the man. "Why does this all need to be done tonight?"
"Agent Benson. you are...were second-in-command. The CIC has just been terminated, so you must take over immediately. You are, if my eyes do not deceive, a female, though, Ma'am. Statute Eighty-five, Subsection B, Article one-nineteen-dash-C clearly states..."
"I know what the damn thing states, Conrad. I wrote it. I just thought I'd be, like, forty when the CIC kicked the bucket. Not twenty-fucking-seven! And it's there, written, for personal and financial security, protection of the estate and the family in case of imminent death, neither of which I have. Mother of God, this is fucking terrific."
"Yes," Conrad said brightly. "Isn't it? We have all always thought you were a much better suited leader than him anyway, Ma'am. Everyone is greatly overjoyed in the midst of their grief." Conrad turned to leave, but paused and gave a salute. "On the 'morrow, Commander Benson."
A/N: Poor, Benson! Did her life just go up in flames or what? Review!? CHapter 11 will be up, soon!