10 - GOLDEN RING

We'll both regret it in the morning. He already regretted it now. Go home to your wife. He wanted to break something. When Elliot went back to his stool at the bar, Olivia and Downey were already gone. He pounded on the counter, making quite a few glasses jump and spill some of their contents, but none of their owners noticed or cared enough to throw him so much as a disapproving look. At this point, that would have been enough to earn a punch in the face from him, which he would have gladly delivered just for the hell of it. He drank up his warm, stale beer and left some money under the glass before leaving.

Go home to your wife. Well, that's exactly what he was going to do. Because he did have a wife, he was blessed with five children, and he was very grateful for all of it. Or did Olivia think he wasn't just because he was attracted to her? Do you have the balls to own up to it? He had the balls all right, but he also had a responsibility, and six people who depended on him financially and emotionally. How could Olivia know anything about that? All she'd ever known was taking care of herself, she didn't know anything about putting other people first. His life was all about putting other people first.

He couldn't just give in to his whims, his desires, he had a lot to think about before he could make any decisions. Anything he ever did affected many more people than just himself. That's what she couldn't understand. How could she understand? Downey really must be the guy for her; he was as much of a loner himself, and together they might learn to put each other first instead of themselves. The perfect symbiotic relationship. Good for them.

He's not married. Was that all it took for a guy to earn her trust? He had seen her arriving with him, his hands on her, like that guy knew her, like he knew her better than he did, he who had known her for ten years. And it wasn't like she was enjoying it or even welcoming it; she seemed to be just going along with it, numb, like she was hypnotized or something. It made Elliot want to wake her up, confront her, but it had gotten completely out of hand. When he got near her, he couldn't help himself, and before he realized, he was all over her, claiming her as his when she wasn't. But how come she wasn't? In that moment of alcoholic insanity, it didn't seem like she wasn't.

Still, it was no excuse for going after her like that, getting close to her like that, touching her like that, showing just what she did to him when he couldn't act on it. The power she had over him but which he could never let her wield. How crazy it was making him to see her with that guy. What the hell had he been thinking? It didn't matter how long he had been drinking at that bar and how many shots and beers he'd had, there was no excuse for what he'd done. And yet, as much as he kicked himself for it, he couldn't get over the scent of her hair, the taste of her skin. What was going on with him?

Elliot checked his phone; it was already half past eleven, and Kathy had called four times. There was also a text message from her asking if she should wait for him to serve dinner. Well, that ship had sailed long ago, and she would be mad when he made it home. Great; all he needed after this ridiculous scene was a fight with Kathy waiting for him. Go home to your wife. Why did those words make him so mad?

It only took a few seconds into the house for Kathy to emerge from somewhere, probably the living room, chasing after him as he went for the stairs.

"Why don't you answer your phone? I was worried, I was calling your desk, there was no answer. I tried Olivia's cell, but she didn't…"

"Why would you call Olivia's cell?" he blew up, not letting her finish. "I wasn't with her."

"Then who were you with?" She looked surprised, outraged even. "You weren't working?"

Elliot sighed, realizing his reaction had created room for an argument he definitely didn't want to have. His guilty conscience had made him assume she was accusing him of being with Olivia outside of work, and now she would demand to know why. He decided to start it all over again, now less sloppily.

"Honey, I don't want to argue, okay?" he approached her, trying to control his voice. "I'm sorry I didn't answer my phone. Now, I had a long, hard day and I really need a shower."

"Have you been drinking?" she must have smelled the alcohol on his breath.

"Goddamnit, Kathy, I don't have time for this!" he rushed up the stairs and headed for their bedroom with her on his heels.

"Why don't you just talk to me?" she demanded, whispering until they were past the baby's room. "What happened today?"

It was always the same thing. She wanted to know every gory detail, every thought that went through his mind. She shut the bedroom door.

"It's not anything you need to know," Elliot said cryptically, feeling caged. "You know I don't like to talk about work at home."

Another mistake; as soon as he'd said it, he knew what the retort would be.

"Yes, the only one who understands is Olivia," she said, like clockwork. "Were you having drinks with her?"

"I already said I wasn't with her," he raised his voice.

He suddenly remembered the smoothness of Olivia's skin when he'd ran his hand up her blouse. The weakness in her knees against him as he touched her, how she'd pleaded for him to stop.

"Why are you lying about this?" Kathy was saying. "I know you go out for drinks with her sometimes, I know you need to talk about work sometimes, why are you trying to hide this from me? Is something else happening?"

Something like what? Like grinding against her as he licked her skin?

"For Christ's sake, Kathy, don't start! Nothing is going on! She even has a boyfriend now, she's seeing a guy from work."

Even though she didn't like him. Even though he didn't make her knees weaken like that, didn't cause waves of chills through her body like he could.

"Oh," she nodded, as though she had finally understood something. She smiled and bit her lip. "That's it then."

Elliot didn't understand whatever leap she had made. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" He squinted, confused.

"You weren't drinking about the case. You were drinking because Olivia has a boyfriend, and you're jealous."

"What? Don't be ridiculous!" He turned away from her.

It wasn't about jealousy, how could she understand? He just couldn't handle watching Olivia fool herself with a guy she didn't care about, a guy she barely knew. Just because he had helped her dodge a bullet? It was like she thought she owed him something. But Kathy would never understand this if he tried to explain.

"I'm the one who's being ridiculous?" she scoffed. "Do you even believe yourself right now?"

"You've lost your mind..." he muttered.

Of all the things she could have figured out; the kiss, the encounter outside the restroom. This wasn't jealousy. Was it? And even if it were, was she going to audit his thoughts now?

"I'm not an idiot, Elliot. I know you. I knew there was something on your mind, I just didn't know it wasn't the case."

"What the hell are you talking about?" She was being so unfair. "Every night I'm here, spending time with you and the kids. What else do you want from me?"

"I want you to tell me the truth," she said simply. She seemed to be getting calmer instead of angrier; it didn't make sense. "I know you're trying really hard to make things work between us, but I need to know if that's what you really want."

I just don't think that's what we wanted… getting back together. That's what he had told Olivia right before he'd kissed her. But it was a choice he'd made, it was the right choice, and he would stand by it.

"Why else would I be here?" he said.

"Then tell me you don't have feelings for Olivia," she walked to him. "Tell me you didn't get drunk because you're jealous."

"Kathy, come on…" He pleaded. "I thought we were past this stupid thing with Olivia."

"Is it? Stupid?" It didn't sound like an accusation; instead, she looked sad. A tear rolled down her cheek. "I know you don't want to feel this, you want to do what you think is right. But being the right thing to do isn't good enough for me."

Elliot didn't know what to answer to that. Kathy didn't look mad, he couldn't read her at all; he couldn't have guessed what she expected to hear, so he settled for silence.

"You have feelings for her, you've had them for a long time." She wiped that tear. "The sooner you admit it to yourself, the better it will be for everyone." She approached him, arms crossed, as though holding herself. "You don't love me anymore."

Elliot closed his eyes, sighing. "Kath… Of course I love you. I'll always love you. You're the mother of my children."

"I know that," she smiled, blinking out another tear. "That's exactly what I'm talking about. You have reasons to love me, you don't just… love me. I know how that feels, this isn't just you. We're not in love anymore."

She took his hand, squeezed it, rubbed it with her thumb lovingly. He didn't understand why she was so calm, why she wasn't screaming. She looked up at him and smiled as another tear rolled down. Then, with her other hand, she removed his wedding ring, forcing him to look down; he was surprised by how easily it just slid off and how much lighter his hand felt. After letting go of him, she removed her own ring, then made a fist around both of them, pressing her lips together.

"I don't want us to start resenting each other," she said. "We have so many good memories and five beautiful children. We've been luckier than most."

Elliot was speechless, paralyzed. All she was saying made sense, but he wasn't prepared to hear it from her. She, on the other hand, seemed like she'd been rehearsing that conversation for a while. After those words, she deposited their rings on her dresser and locked herself in the bathroom, leaving him completely clueless. Did that mean the marriage was over? Just like that? He didn't even know what his privileges were right now. Did he even get to sleep on their bed?

He figured that the kids could be scared if he didn't sleep at home or if they saw him sleeping on the couch, so he just stripped to his underwear and lay down, listening closely for any sounds produced by Kathy, wondering if she would come back to talk some more or just leave it at that. Sleep came surprisingly fast, no doubt with the help of the alcohol he'd had, and as he was falling into it, some sort of dream mixed up with reality played in his head, with Kathy, Olivia and Downey appearing as smudged silhouettes in a scene he had no understanding of. Somewhere in the middle of it, he felt Kathy lying down next to him.

Morning came unceremoniously after what felt like just a few minutes to Elliot, and he woke up to a merciless headache. When he looked at Kathy's side of the bed, it was empty, making him doubt whether she had been there at all. He checked his watch on the nightstand: it was actually later than he thought, which meant Kathy had probably gone out to take Eli to daycare, and the twins were already at school as well. With the house to himself, he went for a shower in hopes it would ease the hangover.

We'll both regret this in the morning. Olivia's words came back as the water hit him, and he saw it all in his mind again, how he had chased after her, demanded to know about Downey, told her how it bothered him. Held her, kissed her. He felt like he was behaving like a boy in puberty, letting his impulses rule him, his body act on its desires without the filtering of reason. But maybe that first kiss weeks ago was a can of worms that could not be unopened, or even could, but doing so would be useless, as it was already empty, all worms out, lost, out of control and causing mayhem.

You don't love me anymore. It wasn't that simple; he wished he could make Kathy understand. It wasn't just a matter of loving her or not, it was a matter of making decisions that would affect their children. This wasn't just about love, it was about responsibility, and Elliot knew well what his responsibilities were. He knew and followed them so well that he wasn't even used to listening to what his feelings were. In that sense, love was also a choice, and he chose his family, he always did, it was his duty. And it wasn't difficult either: it was more than twenty years of a life that he liked and that was, honestly, all he knew.

Tell me you don't have feelings for Olivia. That he had feelings for Olivia wasn't exactly news to him. But he wasn't a twenty-something guy without any strings attached and a whole life ahead of him, he couldn't just decide that these feelings were strong enough to justify throwing that whole life out the window. And this wasn't just a physical thing, something that might be solved in one night, a lust, a curiosity. This was a person that he valued and cherished, and if he were to ever really act on anything concerning her, he knew it would be a life commitment; he wouldn't risk their partnership for anything less.

Elliot finished getting dressed and, when he was about to leave, he noticed that now only one wedding ring sat on the dresser; his. That meant that Kathy had taken hers, put it on. Maybe she had changed her mind, recognized that she had acted impulsively and that this wasn't something as simple as taking off a ring. He stared at the golden circle for a few moments, trapped; he couldn't move until he decided what to do about it. In a swift movement, he took the ring and put it back on, twisting it around his finger with his thumb as he walked out of the room.

When Olivia's alarm clock rang, she was already awake after another almost completely sleepless night. She considered calling in sick, she definitely didn't want to see Elliot after the previous night's exchange. She also wasn't looking forward to seeing Eric, as she still owed him an explanation for how she had come back from the bathroom looking like she had seen a ghost or something, rushing him to leave without even sipping her drink.

He had been worried, asked what had happened, even offered to spend the night at her place instead of going home, but she hadn't been able to say much more than enough to assure him she would be fine. She asked him to understand that she just needed to leave the bar and go home alone, no questions asked. But he wasn't stupid; he had seen Elliot go to the bathroom right after her, he had seen the time it had taken her to come back, in that state, and the fact that Elliot had stayed behind. It wouldn't be hard for him to put two and two together and figure it out.

A shower was a good idea, and it helped Olivia make a decision: she wouldn't be intimidated by Elliot. He was the one who had been unbelievably inappropriate and disrespectful, she had done nothing wrong. If anyone had to feel ashamed, it was him, not her.

And yet, she couldn't help but feel guilty as soon as she saw Eric at the precinct. He thoughtfully asked her if she was feeling better, didn't push to know what had happened, and all she could think about was how she had been fooling herself. He was a great man, offering everything she knew she deserved, but she had realized that many things had led her to being with him except for the right reasons: she didn't really have feelings for him. That made her even angrier at Elliot and what he'd done, because it had irrevocably opened her eyes, and not reciprocating Eric made her feel painfully guilty.

"What have you been working on?" she asked him, figuring work was the best thing to focus on.

"Remember when we searched Wyatt's apartment and turned up nothing?" He walked to his desk and sat down. "Well, I figured he probably didn't keep anything at home, so he must have another place. I came in early to look for something, but so far, nothing."

His desk was complete chaos; it looked like he had gathered the documents, pictures, DMV records and anything else he could on Jordan Wyatt and anyone connected to him in any way, but she didn't know how he was supposed to get any intel from that mess.

"You've checked all of these?" she asked hesitantly, pointing at the piles of documents and folders.

"No," he replied, raising a hand as if to tell her not to touch anything; apparently, there was some order in place that she might disturb. "These haven't been checked yet," he pointed at a big pile that sat in an adjacent chair he had taken on, then at a small, fragile pile that sat completely misaligned on top of one side of a paper tray, the other side barely supported by a pencil and a pair of scissors in a pen holder; Olivia was afraid to breathe around it.

"I'll take care of these first," she said, smiling. "They look more urgent."

"Thanks," he grinned, looking embarrassed in his cute way.

More guilt. Olivia walked back to her desk with the files, thinking about how Eric brought out this lighter, fun side of her, and how ungrateful she was for not being able to value that as she should. She had barely finished that thought when she bumped into Elliot as he rushed into the squadroom. She was able to avoid a collision just in time, but she couldn't escape meeting his eyes for a moment, and that single, touchless contact was enough to bring the night before crashing back; she could feel his breath against her neck, feel his mouth, his teeth. Her involuntary physical reactions.

"Sorry," he said, looking away.

Without replying, she rushed past him and landed in her chair, the evidence pile she had just adopted the perfect target for her full focus and attention. She opened the top folder and read a death certificate over and over again as she struggled to focus; it took her three times to absorb that it belonged to Eleanor Wyatt, Jordan's mother; she had died five years earlier. The next document was her marriage certificate to Jordan's father, Anthony Wyatt, and she noticed it contained Eleanor's maiden name.

"Eric," she called out, standing up quickly. "Did you check any properties under Wyatt's mother's name?"

"Yeap," he replied without turning around. "Nothing."

"Did you check her maiden name?"

Now he turned around quickly, his eyes wide. "No, I didn't. What is it?"

She walked to his desk. "Stuart. Eleanor Stuart."

"What are we doing?" Elliot asked, joining them, his voice defiant, his arms crossed.

Eric looked at him, then at Olivia, and she felt her cheeks blushing as she wondered if he had noticed the tension between her and Elliot, but as he went back to his research, she understood he was only asking her to deal with her partner; she answered without looking at him.

"We're looking for properties in Wyatt's mother's name that he could have used as a hiding place."

"I thought this would have been checked by now," Elliot accused, and she felt it as he turned his body towards her. He was trying to pick a fight, after everything he'd already done. "You hadn't thought of that?"

"Nobody did," she said, now looking at him, feeling the anger building up. "I didn't hear you suggesting that."

"Maybe you might have if you were actually working with me," he said with a wry smile. "But it looks like you've changed partners without telling me."

Olivia opened her mouth with shock and outrage, but Eric spoke before she could.

"What is your problem?" he asked calmly, still sitting down.

"She doesn't need you to defend her," Elliot raised his voice slightly.

"Back off," Olivia said through clenched teeth, trying to sound threatening.

"Got anything, Detective Downey?" the captain said, walking out of his office, and Olivia noticed that he was scrutinizing her and Elliot.

"I hope so," Eric replied, unaffected, his attention already fully back on his research.

He explained what he was looking for to the captain, but Olivia knew he had come out into the squadroom because he'd heard the argument.

"While he's looking," Cragen started, and Olivia already knew what was coming. "You two: my office."

She avoided Elliot's eyes as she followed the captain, but she was aware of every move he made as he walked behind her. Cragen had obviously picked up on the hostility between them. It didn't help that, once in the closed room, they stood as far away from each other as the limited space allowed. And yet, Olivia felt it as if Elliot were right behind her, his arms around her, his mouth on her neck.

"What's going on with you two now?" the captain asked, looking from her to Elliot and back. "You know what, I don't even want to know what's happening. I just need you to fix it."

"Nothing's wrong, Captain," she started, but he interrupted her with a movement of his hand.

"Don't even try, Olivia," he said, anger trembling in his voice. "I know you know I'm not that stupid."

"What she means is it won't interfere with the job," Elliot said, his voice firm, sending a shiver down her spine as if he had whispered it into her ear.

She hated him for saying that. How come it wouldn't interfere? And how dare he speak for her, explain what she meant? Even if he was just trying to get them out of that room. Before the captain or either of them could say anything else, Eric barged in.

"Sorry to interrupt, Captain, but I think I've got something," he said.

Cragen followed Eric out of the room, throwing them a disapproving look before leaving them alone. "Fix it. Now."

After the door slammed, Olivia looked at Elliot; he stared back at her, his body poised, his arms behind his back defiantly, chest puffed out, a severe expression. After what he had done the previous night, she'd thought he would be regretful, ashamed, but from his behavior in the squadroom and the way he was looking at her, he seemed to think she was the one who had done something wrong.

"Are you going to say something?" She asked eventually, anger boiling inside.

He squinted with what looked like feigned ignorance. "Like what?"

"Like you're sorry." Her voice trembled.

He shrugged. "I'm not."

She scoffed, looking down and shaking her head. She walked to the door, grabbed the handle and looked up again. "Whatever. Let's just walk out of here and act like everything is okay until this case is over, do you think you can do that?"

"You certainly can," he replied calmly, reproachful.

She glared at him, letting go of the handle. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means nothing is okay, but all you do is pretend it is. Especially with your new boyfriend."

Olivia smiled. "You're jealous. You made that pretty clear last night."

"I am," he admitted nonchalantly, surprisingly. "But I also don't like him. I don't trust him."

"Why, because he can actually be there for me?" she challenged.

Olivia saw it as that one seemed to hurt. To her surprise, he walked to her and took her arm, his fingers firmly holding just below her wrist; with that pressure, he could probably feel her heartbeat intensifying.

"Maybe I was inappropriate last night, but you're being hypocritical. You were just as into it as I was." He paused and, when he spoke again, he lowered his voice. "You don't like this guy." He was adamant.

She didn't want to admit it or even show that she agreed in any way; it would be too big a defeat. Why was he insisting on proving her feelings for Eric weren't real? Did he want her to force him to face the mirror as well, dissect his feelings for his wife? She figured attack what the best defense strategy.

"Who are you to judge?" she raised her arm, still circled by his hand, showing him his own wedding ring, the cold metal feel against her skin. "Did you go home and make love to your wife with that hard-on?"

She saw rage in his eyes for a second; maybe her truth hurt, but so did his. But then he sighed, and his expression softened. He let go of her arm.

"How I feel is not the point," he said. "The point is you're letting this guy gain your trust too quickly. You're letting him get too close to you without even thinking if you like him enough or not. That's not like you. You're not yourself lately."

Had it occurred to him that maybe she didn't want to be herself? That maybe she was tired of what she was like? What she was like was hurtful; what she was like was never letting anyone really get close to her, comparing every guy she met to him and blowing them off when they failed to meet those standards. What she was like was being all alone. She was tired. Why couldn't he just let her fool herself? Pretend she could be happy too? It was easy for him to prefer her as herself, he didn't know what it was like after he went home to his happy family.

"Leave me alone," she said simply. "Judge all you want, I don't care. I'm sick of you and your damn high horse. Screw you."

She opened the door and rushed out, stopping next to the Captain, Munch and Fin around Eric's desk. "Have we got something?" She said, eager to focus on anything else.

"Actually yes," Cragen said, analyzing her.

They were all staring at a map on the screen.

"There's a house in Brooklyn registered under Wyatt's mother's maiden name," Eric said, smiling at her. "It looks like the perfect place."