Part Ten
After
Elliot leaned against the wall nervously while the nurse checked over Olivia. He waited while she checked her blood pressure and popped a thermometer in her mouth and took her pulse. He pretended not to be concerned when the nurse asked about pain and discomfort and Olivia answered affirmatively. They were at the doctor's. If there was anything wrong with her, anything more than the obvious, they were in the right place. He swallowed hard when Olivia glanced at him, then changed her mind and said everything was fine.
The nurse offered them a tight smile, beginning to pick up on the tension in the room. "The doctor will be in shortly." As soon as she closed the door behind her, a miserable silence fell over the room.
Elliot gave first, as he usually did, knowing Olivia would lie about feeling pain. Hell, she would remain stoic in the face of death. Lord knew she would never give in. He'd seen it a million times.
"Do you want me to wait outside?"
She looked at him, her eyes slowly turning around from the ever-so-fascinating arrangement of gauze pads and cotton balls and tongue depressors in glass jars on the counter. "No, it's fine."
He knew it wasn't. But she wasn't going to fold. She wasn't going to show weakness in front of him by asking him to leave.
Before
Olivia was flat out exhausted. Her eyelids felt too heavy to lift, and yet, that was exactly what seemed to be expected of her. She pried one eye open, finding her partner perched on the side of her bed, looking somewhat worse for wear.
"What," she grumbled at him. He wasn't bleeding and no one had a gun to his head. Therefore, she saw no reason for him to have woken her.
"I wanted to let you know I'm leaving for work."
She looked at the clock and determined, in that sleepy-math she could only ever completely understand while she was only semi-conscious, that she had plenty of time to sleep. But the man sitting on her bed seemed to want some sort of response from her. "Next time leave a note."
It took her a moment to realize in her hazy state that Elliot's hand was brushing her hair back from her face. Completely unsure what to do with the man's sudden proclivity towards touching her even when he was sober, she rolled away from him and was asleep before he left the room.
It was only as she was driving to work a couple hours later that she realized Elliot had probably been more tired than she was, if only because he was hung over. But she didn't feel too bad for him. It had been his choice to drink. He knew full well the consequences of his actions.
Still, she knew what he was feeling since she'd just been through it a week earlier, and stopped to pick him up something to eat, knowing he'd skipped breakfast. Sitting the sandwich and drink on his desk, she looked around for someone who might be able to tell her where her partner had gotten off to. They'd caught up on months worth of incomplete forms and spent most of the days helping out anyone in the precinct. Although the undercover assignment was getting to them both, she knew there was more to it than just confused personal boundaries. If they didn't get back on the streets soon, they'd go stir crazy.
There was no one around the squad room, so she walked over to Cragen's open door, expecting the boss could at least point her in the direction of someone with something for her to do. Cragen wasn't alone in the office, however, and the unexpectedness of the visitor kept Olivia glued to her spot just outside the door. The other woman had just arrived, as evidenced by the greeting she offered, but the fact that she was there at all piqued Olivia's interest.
It was quite a rare occasion indeed when Kathy Stabler showed up at the precinct. Even rarer still that she wasn't there to talk to Elliot. Olivia thought perhaps Kathy had gone there to talk to Elliot and sought out Cragen for the same reason Olivia had. But as she listened, it became clear that Kathy was there specifically to see Cragen.
And Olivia really wished she'd listened in on that phone call after all. Intrigued, and hating herself for it, she leaned against the wall, trying to hear every word.
"That's ok, Don, I'm not here to see Elliot."
There was a distinct pause and Olivia could only imagine how desperately Cragen was looking for something he could pretend to be busy doing. "Something I can help you with?" His tone made it quite clear he was praying to avoid being involved in whatever it was.
Kathy sighed loudly and Olivia rolled her eyes at the overly dramatic sound. "I'm going to ask you a simple question and I'd like a straight answer, ok?" Olivia couldn't see, but she guessed there was a nod in the silence when Kathy continued. "I want to know if Elliot was working last night."
In the awkward silence that followed, Olivia could practically see the desire on Cragen's face to be anywhere besides there. She'd seen that expression many, many times over the years.
He cleared his throat. "Elliot has been working on an undercover assignment recently. I can't give you any details, Kathy, I'm sure you understand."
"Was he working last night?"
Olivia wanted to stride right into the office and ask Kathy what the hell was wrong with her to question her husband's honesty. He'd called her in the middle of the night to explain the situation. She should have had the courtesy to listen.
"He's been working twenty-four seven on this case." Cragen was dodging the question, giving the most specific answers possible, and Olivia wondered why he didn't just set the woman straight and send her on her way.
Kathy caught on to the fact that Cragen was only going to answer direct questions and stopped beating around the bush. "Would he have had any reason to be in a club last night? Drinking with his partner? Where my daughter might have bumped into them?"
Olivia realized that not only had Elliot failed entirely to explain his assignment to Kathy, but he'd neglected to tell her about bumping into Maureen as well. It occurred to her that she'd left him half asleep and entirely intoxicated to make a very important phone call that he obviously hadn't made. She felt like an ass. And she felt bad for Elliot, who'd probably forgotten about the whole thing since he hadn't been able to remember long enough to explain it to his wife.
Cragen must have realized Elliot's failure to disclose certain facts to his wife at the same time because he slammed something down on his desk. "Yes, Kathy, they were working last night. And if one of your children was anywhere around what they're investigating, I'd tell her to find better places to hang out."
Kathy was quiet for a minute, her voice soft when she spoke again. "Thank you, Don."
"No problem." Olivia could hear the relief in his voice that whatever the fallout from the information he'd provided, he wouldn't be witness to it firsthand.
She heard footsteps as Kathy headed for the door, but before she moved away, she heard them stop. Her blood ran cold, fearing she'd been caught eavesdropping. It was only a second before Kathy's voice sounded again, her words revealing that it hadn't been Olivia's presence that had given her pause.
"You know, Don," she spoke in a small, scared, sad voice, as if keeping her words quiet might soften their meaning. "I asked you the same question a long, long time ago. It's probably been more than ten years now, when they hadn't been partners very long." She paused, and Olivia wished she could see the other woman's face. "Not that Maureen was old enough to see them then, but still," her voice faltered. "You looked me in the eye and swore to me I didn't have anything to worry about."
Neither said a word for a long time. Olivia swallowed hard and wondered exactly what the silence meant, if perhaps one or both of them knew about the kisses she and Elliot had shared in the previous week.
And then Kathy spoke again, her voice strong and certain. "You're not going to say it this time, are you?"
Again silence reigned. But it spoke volumes to Olivia, who carefully moved back to her desk. She didn't care what else was said in that office; she knew enough. Well, she'd heard enough. What she understood, what she knew, they remained quite muddled concepts.
Thankfully she was seated at her desk with a pile of paperwork in front of her by the time Kathy stepped into the bullpen. She glanced up, trying to remain neutral and friendly, the way she would have been had she not been privy to that conversation. She offered Kathy a smile and nod.
Kathy didn't meet her eyes.
The uncomfortable moment was mercifully interrupted by Elliot's voice. "Kathy, what the fuck are you doing here?"
Olivia buried her face in forms she'd already completed, knowing better than to look up as Elliot dragged his wife out into the hallway.
Elliot sat at his desk, huffing and muttering and slamming drawers. Olivia knew better than to ask. Honestly, she didn't want to know anyway.
But Elliot wasn't about to let her avoid his bad mood, like always, he was far too happy to share it with his partner. "Fuck, Liv, why didn't you remind me to call Kathy?"
Her eyes went wide. "What? I chased down one of Maureen's friends to set her straight before I dragged your drunk ass home and put you on the phone to Kathy. Did you expect me to call her myself and explain?"
His eyes narrowed as he looked down. "I guess that's why I woke up with the phone under my head."
And then she really did feel bad. Because she had left him alone to call and evidently he'd been too drunk to manage that after all. She shrugged. "Considering that you were too drunk to finish dialing her without my supervision, it probably wouldn't have been a good time to talk with her anyway."
He nodded, slowly raking his hands over his face. "God, I'm too old for this shit. I didn't party like that when I was twenty."
She smiled, knowing the booze hit her harder than it used to as well. "We've only got the rest of the week before Ellis pulls the plug on us. Think you can make it?"
Elliot smiled. "So what's on the agenda for tonight?"
The next two nights were lost in a fog of loud music and drunken club-goers and people with far too much time to party. Though they'd both stayed sober, the late nights were still taking their toll on them. They were running out of time as well, still hoping to get close enough that the Simonovichs might try to entice them to buy a young girl to buy for their amusement.
It was about a half hour after they'd munched on sandwiches at their desks for lunch when Olivia looked over to see Elliot's head tilted to the side, his eyes closed, his mouth hanging open. She laughed as she tossed a pen at him, the light tap of the pen on his chest causing him to jerk awake.
"Jesus!" He blinked in the odd silence following his shout, staring back at all the people staring at him. He caught Olivia's eye and glared. "Are you trying to get me fired?"
"You're the one sleeping on the job." She held out her hand, waiting for her partner to hand back her pen. "I was trying to keep you from getting caught."
He leaned forward, dropping his chin into his hands. "Can we skip tonight? Stay in one night and go to bed before it's time to get back up?"
She smiled, amused that he was asking her. Maybe he'd been playing her husband too long and thought he needed her permission. It seemed like the thoughtful thing a husband would do – check with his wife about her plans for the evening. "Yeah, we're running out of clubs."
"Plus, hitting their clubs every night is bound to be a bit obvious, right?"
She loved the idea of taking the night off and relaxing, but she dreaded it as well. A quiet night hanging around her not-house with her not-husband would only serve to make her wish for something she didn't, couldn't, have. More emotional problems were not something she needed.
Still, she couldn't tell him no. She never could. "We can order a pizza and watch a movie or something."
He nodded, a smile forming on his lips that didn't fade the rest of the afternoon.
She was waiting for him when he got home, already settled on the couch in sweats with a half-eaten bag of microwave popcorn on her lap. Ignoring the perfectly natural way it felt when he tossed his jacket on the chair and flopped next to her on the couch, she offered the popcorn. "It's still warm."
He glanced at it, then at her. "Get dressed."
"What? You're kidding, right?" She looked at him in shock, having grown quite attached to the idea of sitting right where she was for the rest of the night without shoes on.
"Let's go out." He was already standing, pulling at his tie, untucking his shirt as he walked toward the hall. "I'll be out of the shower in five minutes, ready to go in ten."
"I thought we were staying in." Grumpily, she threw the popcorn on the coffee table and stomped after him. She leaned in the bathroom door, trying not to look as he tossed his shirt on the floor and started unfastening his pants. "Where are we going, exactly?"
He turned back to her, no modesty at all as he unzipped his pants and kicked them off. "Just dinner. Just out. Not for…" He motioned around them vaguely to let her know he meant that they wouldn't be working.
Shrugging, she headed for the bedroom to change. God forbid the man continue stripping in front of her. There wasn't much left to go, and she suspected he'd show the same amount of self-consciousness about dropping his drawers in front of her.
Not that she'd mind. No, not at all.
But they probably wouldn't make it to dinner. Not after she tackled him and had her way with the man. Hell, he probably wouldn't mind that either.
She pulled on jeans, a pink button-down and grabbed a white sweater just in case. It was decent to go out in, but comfortable enough that she wouldn't miss her sweats. Her feet happily slipped into a pair of flat sandals, foregoing her painful heels for the night. She went back to the living room to give Elliot the privacy she doubted he cared about when she heard the shower shut off.
True to his word, it wasn't long before he emerged from the hallway, dressed in a navy polo and khakis. He took one look at her as she pulled her sweater over her shoulders and laughed.
"What?" Nervously, she looked down to see if she'd forgotten to button her shirt or something.
He looked her up and down shaking his head. "You look like you fell out of the J. Crew catalog."
"And you don't, Mr. Preppy?" They were limited by the clothes they'd been provided, except for the few things of their own they'd managed to sneak in. Every time they set foot out the door, however, there was a good chance they could be watched, and so, mostly the items of their own were ones they wore around the house.
With a grin, Elliot held out his elbow to her. "Shall we, Mrs. Preppy?"
She linked her arm through his, still giddy at the thought of touching him, no matter how many times she'd done so. It was fun, pretending to be his wife.
Her smile fell in the car, realizing that it wasn't a good thing to get so attached to the concept.