There are too many people in here, she thinks as she's sitting at her desk, trying to overcome the accumulated paper work. There aren't more people in the bustling bullpen than usual but with her back to the entrance and with the goddamn twitch in her stomach, she feels like there's just too much noise and movement around her and she wants to scream at everyone to just shut the fuck up so she can concentrate.
Her hands rub her temples and forehead and Olivia realizes that she's also nervous because she shouldn't be nervous at something as a pre-trial discussion that she's done a million times with Elliot before. But as much as she would have given a kidney to have him back with them till a few weeks ago, it seems that 'be careful with what you wish for' is an idiom based on true stories. Their recent encounters, the last one being him barging into the bathroom in the DA's offices almost a week ago, proved her that things can't go back to being normal again and that outside the job she can't even be his friend; and maybe he's known it all along and that's why he severed her.
"Hey, Liv." A voice comes from behind her and she turns to smile at Fin and Amanda who return from interviewing witnesses.
"Hey, had any luck?" she asks them.
"Rough start but we have something to go with," Amanda updates and Olivia blankly smiles at her.
"Where's Cap?" Fin shrugs his jacket off.
"In his office." Olivia motions with her head.
"Casey there?" Fin looks over at Cragen's closed door.
"No, she's not here yet," she answers and his questions are making her even more nervous.
"Elliot?" he asks and she almost wants to roll her eyes because of the grimace Fin's face turned into without him even noticing it.
"Not here yet," she replies and gets back to her efforts to concentrate in her documents and computer screen.
YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY
The sergeant at the front desk doesn't look familiar as he walks past him, and he's glad. One less person to recognize him and either nod at him or stop him in his tracks, squeeze his shoulder and say something like 'hey, Stabler, how have you been?' or some other stupid thing that annoys him on the one hand and makes him thankful for being remembered on the other. His jaw muscles are strained from the fake smiles and from clenching and gritting his teeth the entire morning.
When Elliot walks out of the third floor elevator his confident stride doesn't reveal the mess of emotions that rumble inside him. He looks around and it feels like coming home after a long absence to find that you're a stranger in your own home. Things and faces have changed but most of it is the same and it pulls a nerve string inside him so hard that he almost wants to turn and walk away. On the wide and short corridor that leads to the Special Victims Unit, images are blazing in front of him, of himself walking there with victims, lawyers, suspects, with his friends and Captain and his partner, and he thinks about how feeling that he belonged there used to be so obvious.
When he reaches the double doors that lead into the bullpen he takes a deep breath and delays for just a moment to look at his former home, the place that he last saw months ago. He looks at the floor at his feet, where Jenna's body once laid, and his chest contracts.
"Elliot." Fin's voice startles him as the detective stands up from his seat and walks over to him.
"Hey," he replies and advances a few steps into the squadroom, as if he's checking that the ground is solid beneath his feet.
Fin pats his shoulder and stands there with him for a few seconds.
"Must be strange being here again after all this time," Fin says quietly and looks around the room too, joining him in taking it all in for the first time after so long.
"It is," he admits and it comes out as a sigh.
He notices first the things that stayed the same, like the kitchenette at the far end, the coffee corner, the metal lockers, Fin and Munch's desks, Cragen's door across from where he stands, and the double desks that belonged to him and Olivia. It all takes a few seconds and his eyes delay on her messy side and on the emptiness of his. He half expected to see her brown hair smooth on her back as she sits at her desk, but she's not there. He notices all the new things, the empty space where the holding cell used to be, the old fashioned charting board that replaced the large media board and the new detectives' desks.
"Want something to drink?" Fin offers as they walk further inside.
"No thanks. Everyone's here?" Elliot asks, anxious to start this already, to focus on the material and take his mind off of all this, though seeing Olivia again is not going to be easy either.
"Casey's on her way, Liv's in with Cragen. C'mon, let's get in there." Fin's tone is still quiet and soft as he motions with his head towards the office door.
"Let's go." Elliot's jaw clenches for the millionth time that day as Fin pushes Cragen's door open.
YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY
Cragen stands up and she notices the urgency in the movement and recognizes his excitement. It consoles her in a strange way, to know that her Captain is also excited to see Elliot again. Olivia remains leaned against a low wooden cabinet that stretches over one wall in Don's office. There was always one of them sitting on or leaning against that cabinet, she remembers, as Elliot follows Fin into the room and shakes hands with Cragen.
"Liv," Fin greets her and Elliot turns his head to look at her.
He gives her a slight nod of his head and looks back at the Captain. She hates the way her heart rate has doubled itself at the sight of him.
"Good to see you, Elliot." Cragen says as they're waiting for Casey to arrive.
"Good to see you too, Cap." Olivia smiles inside at the way he still refers to Cragen as his Commanding Officer.
"Thanks for helping us on this, I realize this is not conventional, but we'd better give it a shot than not."
"Sure, I…I hope I can help." Elliot shrugs and she remembers his pleading voice, 'D'you have any idea how much I missed all this?', and her jaw clenches at the memory of her silence.
"Heard from Smith you're doing quite well there now." Cragen smiles at Elliot, and Olivia's heart misses a beat because she realizes that she's never bothered to ask him what he does for work now.
"Yeah, it's ok," Elliot answers with a slight smile.
Her eyes are skimming his smiling profile, his neck, they slide down to his shoulders and to his arms that are resting on the chair's armrests and down to his right ankle that's crossed on his left knee, and despite the situation she feels the flutter in her lower stomach.
"Sorry I'm late," Casey's voice says before they see her. "Hi, everyone." She smiles when entering the room.
"You're not late, and, before you grab a chair, I thought it'd be better if we do this at the board, I want to see the dots connecting." Cragen says as he stands up.
They all walk out to the bullpen and the semi-circle they create in front of the board, right next to the joint desks that she now occupies alone, makes Olivia miss another beat.
From her spot at the end of their line she glances at his wide stance, his hands that move from his sides to join behind his back in a Marine posture, his neck that is strained as he looks at the board, his untouchable face, and although she's seen Elliot standing there like that so many times before, her breath becomes shallow.
Arrows are added to the board, linking the various crime scene photos and the hand written points as Casey describes her detailed strategy and Fin and Olivia indicate the relevant evidence. Elliot writes points and helps making more connections as they summarize the way the Briggs case will be introduced in court.
Olivia watches Elliot in action and she recognizes the activity thrill, the sharp analysis, the determination and concern to get justice done, and only she can see that it's all tainted by a thin layer of remoteness and despondency. She also notices that he hasn't acknowledged her since the slight nod of his head when he entered Cragen's office or the random look in her direction when she speaks, and while it doesn't surprise her, it still makes her wince.
"Ok, great. We're not giving up on finding Karen, but…good luck, folks," Cragen summarizes their briefing and the semicircle disperses.
'Thanks' and 'bye' and 'talk to you later' follow Olivia as she walks over to her seat with what she hopes resembles a smile cladding her face.
"Elliot, listen, thank you. I hope it means you're ready to stay in touch. You've been missed." She overhears Cragen.
"Sure, thanks. It's been…interesting." Elliot's voice is quiet and Olivia imagines the look on his face.
"Before you go, I saw the box with the things Olivia packed from your desk in the filing storage room. Why don't you grab it from there while you're here?" It's Don's voice and she feels Elliot's eyes on her.
She doesn't hear Elliot's response, but furtively peeping through the curtain of her hair as she pretends to be deeply immersed in one of the documents on her desk, she sees him walking towards the side exit of the bullpen, which leads to the back, where the filing storage room is located. Olivia pushes the hair from her face and looks around, finally able to breathe. She knows she shouldn't do it but she can't let him go like that, without saying one word to him. She fights the urge to follow him.
And she loses.
The back part of the third floor is quiet and deserted and Olivia's heart races in her ribcage as she reaches the door. 'Let him go. You can start by packing up his desk, we can't keep it as a shrine,' Cragen's voice echoes in her head.
Let him go.
It's a small room, packed with metal cabinets all around its walls, crates and boxes are stacked on the floor and a small oblong table is squeezed in the middle. Elliot is standing behind that table and looking into the contents of the box placed on it, which she finally remembered to bring back from her car. He raises his eyes when the door opens and she knows that it's his own face and his son's that gaze back at him in the picture he still holds.
They're both still quiet when she closes the door behind her and takes a few steps into the room. Her hands nervously arrange the rim of her shirt till she forces them to be still and rest on her hips.
"You really missed all this, didn't you?" She asks with a soft lopsided smile and rests her shoulder against a metal cabinet in front of the table.
"Yeah." Elliot's eyes close for a second and an almost imperceptible smile curl his lips up just a bit. He places the picture back in the box and fumbles with its contents.
She watches the roll of his shoulders under the blue-grey cotton of his t-shirt, the fabric stretches and flexes on the bulk of his biceps, and maybe because it's not an everyday sight anymore, she has to swallow, hard. Then as if by invitation he rolls back his sleeves and exposes his forearms. The tattoo.
He digs a pen out of the box and puts it on the table as if this is what he was looking for and she knows he's only buying time. He brings his eyes back to her.
"What do you do for work?" Olivia asks hesitantly and the question sounds strange in her ears.
"I deliver training sessions. The Academy, Quantico, private companies." He answers but he seems compelled to and the wave of his hand is almost impatient.
She presses her lips together in a smile of appreciation, nodding her head, before she teasingly asks "They let you teach?" and her eyes are warm on him.
"Apparently." A small, tired smirk flashes and disappears on his lips. He stops looking at her and starts closing the box and she feels that she loses him completely.
"I'm sorry I didn't ask about that before." Her voice is sincere. "Good luck," she adds, trying to do away some of the sting of their previous meetings.
She looks at his hands that are holding the cardboard wings of the box aimlessly, and she notices that his knuckles are almost white.
"Why are you here, Olivia?" Elliot's sudden motion as he moves from behind the table and his rough tone startle her.
"What're you doing following me here?" He glowers at her and she inches back to the cabinet, her widened eyes are almost leveled with his darkened irises as she stares at him incredulous.
"I…" she starts and she hates that she can't seem to finish a goddamn sentence when he's this close.
"I thought you don't give a fuck." His voice is grating and his head tilts so he can gaze into her eyes. "I try to talk and you shut me up, or you shut me out completely."
"Ishut you out?" her voice is raised, steady. She can't believe this prick, this too-close-for-her-own-good prick.
And this acts like a reality check on him, because the grating is immediately replaced with a low, soft tone, and it's even worse. "It wasn't meant to be like that, I'm sorry," he huffs in her face and she can smell the wetness of his breath, and despite herself this makes her eyes drop to his lips.
She doesn't know what wasn't meant to be like what and she can't ask because she can't even think of anything right now, her breath is shallow and when her chest swells it almost touches his.
"Yeah, I missed all this," Elliot says in this low, gravelly voice and everything slow-motions for her, his hands that are raised to lean flat palmed against the cabinet on both sides of her head, his eyes that skim her face and linger on her lips. "I missed you," he breathes. "I missed you," he repeats and she has a second to realize that Elliot's mouth whispers this against her mouth, before she feels his lips fully closing on hers.
Her head tilts up, pressed against the metal and her mouth instinctively opens to him.
She doesn't know who closed the final centimeter between them, but she knows that one of her hands is holding his neck tightly, her fingers scraping the cropped hair at the back of his head and her other is groping the side of Elliot's face, her fingers splayed on his cheek, behind his ear and on his jaw. She feels his jaw muscles work as his open mouth is melded with hers, his tongue penetrating and searching the inside of her mouth and meets hers as she's tasting the wetness of his mouth.
The movement of his jaw as he devours her, the sound of his breathing and Elliot's taste and scent and touch, make her insides feel like they're made of cotton wool. Her head is buzzing and she's dizzy, unaware of anything outside their bodies, outside this.
Elliot's hands cup her face and slide to her neck and throat, his fingers graze the skin of her clavicle and she moans into his mouth as they slide down the sides of her body, over the sides of her breasts and on to her waist and hips.
Olivia feels the low groan vibrates in Elliot's throat as her hand smoothes over it on its way to his shoulder and chest and she revels at the roughness of the rock solid pectorals through his shirt, his heat radiating into her palm.
She arches her back and her breasts crush against his chest, her pelvis meets his and Elliot pushes a leg between hers and she can feel every crevice of him. Their kiss is urgent and deep, and her entire body is a live wire centered at the wetness that's pushed against him.
Elliot's hands dig into the flesh of her hips and waist through the fabric of her shirt and he slides them to her stomach and up towards her breasts. Olivia tugs at his shirt, her hands roam around his torso to his back as she's trying to make contact with his skin. Elliot trails his mouth over her jawline and down to her neck, as his palm slides up to cup her breast. Her mouth is free and she can finally breathe.
She finally opens her eyes.
She finally recognizes where she is and what she's doing.
She finally realizes that she's panting and that Elliot is showering her throat and collarbone with open mouthed kisses and that she's grinding against him while his hard-on is pressed against her hip.
Elliot's. Hard-on.
Olivia freezes for a second and then her hands are on his chest and she's shoving him. Elliot's mouth detaches from the nook under her ear with a wet noise, and he's panting too.
His eyes are glazed and unfocused as he looks at her and she knows they mirror hers.
"Liv," he whispers and sends his hand to her cheek. She shifts her head and he lets his hand fall to his side.
She pushes her shoulder against him and he steps back, making enough room for her to walk past him and out of the door.
In the bathroom, she washes her face without looking at her reflection. Her mind is still humming and she knows there will be aftermath, she just hopes that it's not going to be now.
A toilet is flushed and one of the stalls' doors open. "Hey there," Casey says tentatively as she turns on a faucet.
Olivia gives her a small, fake smile through the mirror.
"What's with you? I hope you're not mad at me."
"For what?" Her voice comes out hoarse as if she hasn't used it in a long time. But she has. To moan. Into Elliot's mouth. She feels a flush of heat and color rising to her cheeks again.
"For, you know…I didn't mean to go over your heads with this, Liv, I happened to talk to Cragen when the idea came up and I …"
"I'm not mad. Listen, I have to go." Olivia interjects and grabs a paper towel on her way out.
"Bye," she hears Casey as the door closes behind her.
TBC