Chapter 13 - Riptide

Elliot wished he could be anywhere but at home tonight. He'd take being in the hospital getting his appendix removed or even sitting through twenty horrible piano recitals just to hear his kid who was playing last. Anything but dinner at home tonight. Dinner. With Olivia. In his house, at his table, with her date, with his wife. Will this be an evening to remember or one to try and forget? He was putting his money on the latter. It's bad enough that she will be here, but to add to his agony, she's bringing Dean Porter, Special-Agent-in-Charge, FBI. The man he wants to punch in the face and rip apart. What is wrong with Kathy! Inviting the woman she has been jealous of for almost 9 years to dinner in their home! His partner, his best friend, his whatever she was to him. Well, they both managed to pull off the act at work today, heck, even Cragen was impressed. Tonight will be act two and hopefully, it will so well it will garner them an Emmy nomination.

Kathy was dressed in a red dress that had a filagree of silver around the neck of the dress and the lapels and sleeves of the matching jacket. The red was very becoming on her. She had a short string of pearls around her neck and matching earrings. Her long blonde hair that normally hung straight, was curled and fell around her shoulders. She looked very pretty.

Standing in their bedroom in front of the full-length mirror, she could not decide if the dress was okay. The color was okay. The style. Elliot came into the room, went to this dresser picking up and putting on his watch he had forgotten.

"Do you think this dress looks alright?" She asked him as she continued to survey herself in the mirror.

"Looks fine, Kath." He answered, not even taking the time to look at her.

"What about the color? Is it too bright of a red?" She wondered.

"Too bright? Red is red. It's fine." Snapping his watch and checking the time, he still did not even glance her way.

"Elliot! You aren't even looking at me!" She whined, putting her hands on her hips.

"Kathy, you look wonderful. Quit worrying." He walked over to her and kissed her on the top of her head.

"What is Olivia wearing?" She wanted to know.

No idea. Well, he has his own ideas. He did not get to see her dressed up very often and had already conjured up some mental images that were pretty awesome. The only thing he was sure about was that whatever she wore, she would be a knockout. She had a way of looking gorgeous even in worn out jeans and ratty t-shirts. He could not wait to see whatever attire she had chosen for the evening.

"How should I know? We don't exactly discuss fashion at work." The grimace on his face reinforced that he has no desire to discuss it either.

You know, we don't exactly discuss anything at work anymore. Or any where else. We don't talk unless it is about a case and sometimes even then we don't talk. When we do, more often than not, it usually leads to us taking verbal jabs at each other which in turn makes us talk less. There are even times that we try to discuss why we are not talking which leads to an argument which then leads to us not talking even more than we already are not talking. Did that make sense? Yea, well, that's how confusing things can get when you are not talking to someone your are not talking to but should.

"What about my hair? Do you like it with the curls or should I straighten it like I usually wear it? She was really agonizing over her appearance.

"Your hair is fine like it is." He said dutifully.

He wished Olivia had not cut her hair. He never even told her he liked it long. He didn't know it would have waves in it like it did. He liked it. She had grown it out when she was undercover and when she came back things were still off between them. He was still hurt and angry that she had left him again without letting him know. So they did not really talk then either, and he was not about to let her know he liked something about her.

"Shoes. Should I wear the black pumps or the red satin heels?" She had on one of each and was standing before him.

Do you want to look like a mother of five or a fashionable woman? He rubbed his chin, as if in thought. "The heels."

No question in his mind what Olivia would be wearing. If she had on a dress, she would wear those sexy, black, open-toed, four inch heeled, shoes with all those straps that came up around her ankles. Or the silver ones that had straps of diamonds. If she was wearing slacks, she would definitely have on one of her nine hundred pairs of boots. One of the dressier pairs, but definitely boots.

He wondered how Olivia ever got dressed without someone there to tell her this or that looked good. These shoes really go better with that outfit. Your hair would look better if you sweep the bangs to this side. Those earrings are perfect with this dress. But he already knew. She was used to being alone, used to figuring things out by herself. Used to making decisions based only on her input. She was confident in herself. She did not need anyone.

Kathy checked around the house one more time making sure every thing was in still in order from the days cleaning. All the books, clothes, shoes, toys put up. She had Elliot help her light candles. He thought there must be a hundred candles and he lit most of them. She had asked him at least ten more times if she looked okay. He had assured ten times her she looked wonderful. He was nervous as hell, but not nearly as nervous as he would have been if he had not taken those three shots of tequila without Kathy knowing. He was on his second beer, too. He actually believed he may be able to emerge from this evening unscathed. He went to check on the steaks he had grilling on the back porch.

- - - - - - - - - -

At precisely 6:27 p.m., Olivia and Dean pulled into the driveway at the Stabler home in Queens. It was lit up with Christmas lights, from the bushes to the porch to the roof. It was beautiful. Olivia wondered when Elliot found the time to string them all. The wine had worn off some aided by the two coffees she drank, but the calming affect she had needed remained.

Standing on the covered porch, Dean looked at her, leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Did I tell you, you look absolutely incredible tonight?"

She laughed, tilting her head up at him. "Yeah, but I lost count after five. Don't let that stop you, though...I like hearing it."

At this moment, she realized that even though she did not know Dean very well, she liked being with him. It was easy to be with him, maybe because she did not really know him. There was no history, no baggage, no battle, no wife. Maybe the problem was getting to know people too well.

He hugged her. "Ready?" She was not.

But there was no way to put this off. These past few weeks she felt like she had been treading in dangerous waters. Now she was caught in a riptide that was taking away from every thing safe and sound only dump her right in the middle of a sucking, swirling vortex of emotions that she feared would be her ultimate undoing. Taking a deep breath she sighed, looked at Dean once more and nodded her head.

- - - - - - - - - -

The sound of the doorbell, sent Kathy into a flurry of straightening and looking around the living room one last time before smoothing her hair and dress. It just made Elliot more nauseous than he was already. He made one last promise himself he was not going to fight with Olivia and he was not going to punch Dean Porter, Special-Agent-in-Charge, FBI. Not one time. "Elliot! They're here!"

Kathy opened the door with Elliot standing right behind her. Olivia and Dean stood on the porch, smiling as Kathy invited them in. Dean with one hand on the small of Olivia's back and a bottle of wine in the other, leaned over to place a quick kiss on Kathy's cheek. Elliot was caught off guard at that. What? Is he just trying to mess with his head or what? Porter has the woman Elliot loves hanging on to him and then kisses his wife! Somebody hold him back! Not that he was jealous. Not of Kathy. It was just the principle. And if Dean kept touching Olivia all night, Elliot was sure he would have to add to those three shots.

"Olivia, Dean. Come in, please." Kathy, the perfect hostess, spoke warmly, her smile bright.

"Thank you." Olivia said as she stepped in ahead of Dean. She glanced at Elliot just long enough to take him in head to foot. Why did he have to look so good? He had on a dark green checkered shirt, that must be new because she had never seen it, with dark tan khakis and brown and black tasseled loafers. The irony, that she and Elliot both had on the same color green and Dean and Kathy both had on red, was not lost on her.

"Here, I'll take your coats." Elliot offered. His fingers brushed the back of her neck as he reached to hold the coat, helping her out of it. She instantly sobered and wished for another glass of wine. Just give her the bottle! The whole bottle.

"Thank you." She tried not to, but she looked straight at Elliot and their eyes locked for just a second too long. In that extra second, she knew she was not the only one who felt the jolt of electricity that passed between them from that accidental touch. It was accidental, right? She felt color coming to her cheeks, as she turned back to Kathy and Dean. Dean saw how their eyes locked and thought to himself, that is not how a detective looks at his or her partner.

She turned away, but not before Elliot saw the look in her eyes that told him the touch affected her as much as it did him. How could such a superficial, accidental touch nearly make him fall to his knees. It was accidental Fingers still tingling from the heat of barely brushing her, Elliot continued looking at her. She looked incredible. Fantastic. He even liked her hair tonight, though he still preferred it longer. How he would love to run his fingers through it right now. The green sweater really enhanced her dark complexion and big, brown eyes. Her slacks were pin-striped, an elegant, classic style, and they looked as fine as the rest of her, he thought as his eyes quickly scanned her head to toe. Yep. There are the boots and since her eyes are almost level with his, he knows they must have three and half to four inch heels. She is gorgeous. He has to calm down.

Handing Kathy the bottle of wine, Dean told her, "Olivia said you were serving steaks so I brought one of my favorite wines, it's a deep, rich merlot. I think you will enjoy it as well." He turned and gave his jacket to Elliot, who then tore his eyes from Olivia and went to hang up their coats in the hall closet.

"Oh, Dean. You didn't have to do that, but, thank you." Smiling, she took the bottle from him.

"Olivia, I love your outfit. That shade of green is beautiful on you." Kathy said, graciously.

Any shade of any color is beautiful on her, thought Elliot, returning to the hallway. They had been here less than two minutes and he was already having to chastise himself for not being able to take his eyes off of her. Forget unscathed. He was so going to be caught before this evening ended.

"Thank you. Red looks very nice on you." Good grief, she thought. We have been here less than two minutes and I have said 'thank you' three times. Casual? That dress is far from casual. What? Was she hoping I would show up in jeans. Got to remember to thank Elliot for telling me what she was wearing!

"Yes. You look very nice, Kathy." Dean complimented, as she blushed and looked to Elliot.

He was still looking at Olivia but shifted his eyes to Kathy when she looked his way. At that moment a loud commotion suddenly caught their attention. Hollering could be heard from the upstairs and then the echo of pounding feet running down the stairs as Dickie made his escape from Kathleen.

As they hit the stair bottom, Kathleen whined to her mother. "Mom!! Tell him to give me back my cell phone!"

"You said I could borrow it, dweeb!" Dickie countered.

"Only for that one phone call, jerk! Not for the night!! Mom!?"

"Kathleen! Richard! We have company..." Elliot's stern voice, settled them instantly.

"Oh, I am so sorry. Please excuse us." Kathleen stopped and turned to look at the guests. "Hi, Liv. Thanks for being there for Mom and E.J." She gave Olivia a quick hug.

"No problem. E.J.?" She cocked her left eyebrow. Olivia had not heard the baby called by that name.

"Yes...the kids don't want to call him 'Elliot'...so it looks like he might end up with a nickname." Kathy smiled and hugged Kathleen.

"This is Agent Porter. Dean, these are two of our children, Kathleen, 19 and Dickie, 16. His twin is Lizzie, with the broken leg. She and the baby are being taken care of by our oldest, Maureen." As the introductions were being made, Dickie handed Kathleen's cell phone to her.

"Kathleen, you are as lovely as your mother. My pleasure." Dean took her proffered hand and kissed it. Kathleen nearly swooned. "Thank you, Agent Porter." Elliot nearly choked. If this jerk kisses one more Stabler woman...

"Agent? What are you? CIA, FBI. DEA...?" Dickie asked, looking him straight in the eye and shaking Dean's hand firmly.

"FBI." He smiled. The kid had a strong handshake and was almost as tall as Dean. "You plan to go into law enforcement like your dad?"

"Yes, Sir. But I want to go Federal, not local. Not sure which agency yet. DEA, ATF. Maybe FBI." For some reason those statements made Elliot seethe, even though he already knew that was what his son planned. He thought it was just because Porter was Federal and Dickie shared his dreams with him.

"Well, make sure you do well in school, son. These days you have to have a four-year college degree to be eligible to apply to the Feds. And believe it or not, we look for business administration degrees, not criminal justice, like you would think."

"Thanks for the information. Good to meet you, Sir. I gotta go. Meeting some friends for a movie." He turned to leave but then realized he had not spoken to Liv. "Oh, hey, Liv!" He gave her a big bear hug.

"Look at you! You're taller than your Dad? And definitely more handsome!" She stole a glace at Elliot as she held Dickie by the shoulders, looking him over and smiling. He was a young man, now.

"And you look awesome, Liv!" Dickie gushed. She could not believe he was no longer the shy, young boy who had a major crush on her.

"Thank you, Dickie." As everyone looked at her, she felt the heat rush to her cheeks.

"Dickie!" Kathy reprimanded.

Way to go, Dickie. Like father, like son, thought Elliot, grinning widely as he watched Olivia blush.

"Well, she does. And all my friends think she's hot, too!!" He said to his mother. "You know, we are all really glad you were with Mom and E.J at the accident...I mean not glad that you were...well...you know what I mean...thanks, Liv." He hugged her again. "I really gotta go! See ya, Liv. Bye, everybody!"

She was hot, thought Elliot. But she truly did not realize it and that made her even more so. Olivia gave the impression of being totally self-confident and in most areas she was very much so, especially professionally. But she seemed to have very little confidence in her femininity, that she was a very attractive, very desirable woman. Perhaps that came from her mother never really being able to accept Olivia as simply a child that needed love and acceptance, without remembering the circumstances of her conception.

Kathleen was right behind him. "Some of us are going down to the Hard Rock for dinner and then back to Torrie's house." She hugged Kathy and kissed Elliot goodbye.

As she passed by Liv, she leaned in, put her hand to Liv's ear and whispered. "Agent Porter is a major babe, Liv! I mean H-O-T, major! Way to go!" She hugged her again and was gone. Liv knew she was probably beet red and there was not thing she could do to hide it.

Elliot watched the entire interaction with amusement. He knew Liv was embarrassed by Dickie's proclamations, especially about her being 'hot', but he had to admit his son knew how to call them. And whatever Kathleen said to her, embarrassed her, too. But he had no clue about that. He'd have to remember to ask Liv about it later.

"Wow! I can't get over how much they have grown and changed. It's only been about 4 months since I saw Dickie and he was still shorter than me. And Kathleen...she has become a beautiful young woman. I know you are so proud of them." Olivia could not quit smiling. She loved those kids as if they were her own.

"Yea, we are proud of them, aren't we, honey?" Kathy, looking at Elliot.

"Couldn't be prouder." The grin on his face was evidence enough of that pride.

"I need to excuse myself to the restroom..." Olivia said. All that wine and coffee was making a comeback.

"El, show her the bathroom..." Kathy said.

"I think I remember..." Olive was pointing down the hallway.

"Oh, we added a new guest bathroom near the kitchen by the basement door...I'll show you." Elliot said, nodding toward the kitchen.

When they got to the bathroom, Elliot turned on the light and whispered, "So how many did you have." He was grinning. He could always tell when Olivia had even had one drink.

"Three glasses. Big glasses. Wine and two coffees." Rolling her eyes, she laughed out loud. "What about you?"

"Three shots of tequila and two beers." He was laughing as he walked away. When did they stop laughing, he wondered. The sound of her laughter always made him smile as it seemed to wash away all the tension within him, even if only for a few minutes.

As Olivia came from the bathroom, Elliot was heading out to check the steaks cooking on the grill. He smiled at her and she nodded and returned the smile.

Dean was following Kathy into the kitchen. "Why don't you keep Elliot company, Dean? I have a few things left to do and it will give Olivia and me time to talk."

"Okay. I know when I am not wanted. And don't you mean 'girl' talk?" Laughing, he headed for the back door.

Great. Alone with Kathy. Girl talk. Her mind screamed. Warning! Disaster ahead! Olivia's stomach drew tighter and she had not been sure that was at all possible.

"Come on." Kathy said, motioning with her hand to Olivia.

Kathy busied herself taking things out of the refrigerator and preparing the salad. Olivia just stood there not knowing what to do. "How can I help you?"

"Well...would you mind getting the wine glasses down? They are in the far left cabinet on the next to the top shelf. If you will, put one by each of the table settings."

"Sure." She opened the cabinet and pulled out four long stemmed wine glasses. She took them to the dining room and set them at each place. When she returned to the kitchen, Kathy looked up and motioned for her to sit down.

"I think I have everything else under control...just have a seat and keep me company."

Olivia sat down at the breakfast table and looked around the kitchen. Various pictures colored by small hands, must have been years old because the twins were 16 and she doubted they colored anymore, were posted on the frig along with school calendars, reminders of doctor and dental appointments and a few pictures. The kitchen had a homey feel to it.

"You have done a wonderful job decorating your home for Christmas." She bet Kathy had decorations for every holiday imaginable. Probably handmade them all, too. Olivia was doing good to remember it was Christmas, let alone take the time to decorate.

"Thanks. How have you been? Really. You know since the accident?"

"I'm good. You and the baby?"

"Oh, we are fine. Thank you, Olivia, for all you did."

"Anyone would have done the same thing."

"Have you gotten another car, yet?"

"No. The insurance company keeps saying the 'checks in the mail' but it hasn't come."

"So, tell me about Dean. You said you met him when you were undercover?"

"Yea, he was my case handler."

"What does that mean, exactly?"

"Kept me updated on intelligence information relevant to the case...gave me direction about what I was to do or look for while undercover, tried to keep me safe."

"Tried to keep you safe? Did something happen?"

"Our group got into a scuffle with the local police and I ended up in the hospital with a concussion from a billy club upside my head. It was all a big misunderstanding."

"Oh, my! Elliot never told me about that. I am so sorry."

"Elliot doesn't know. I really have not talked about the undercover stint."

Because any time it comes up, it ends in a fight with him reminding me that I left him for the second time without talking it over, without saying goodbye, telling him where I was going. Nothing. Nothing but the recording telling him 'the number you have reached has been disconnected. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please hang up and dial again' and I don't want to be reminded that I left him or of all that time I spent 3000 miles away from him, missing him, dreaming about him. I don't want to be reminded that I came back to find Dani had more than taken my place. That's why he doesn't know.

"Oh, I thought you two talked about every thing?"

Not anymore, she thought. We just tolerate each other. The only time we even pretend to be civil is when Cragen chews us out and threatens to split us up. But this morning...this morning he kissed my fingers and then kissed me on the cheek...that's progress, wouldn't you say...maybe too much progress...but just maybe...we will be able to fix things and find ourselves again.

When Olivia did not respond, Kathy asked another question. "So, you have known him for awhile...how long have you been dating?"

"I wouldn't call it dating." What would you call it, Benson? "Met a little over a year ago. We didn't have that much contact except for a couple of our cases that overlapped Federal jurisdiction. He heard about the accident, came by to see how I was and well...here we are."

"Well, he sure is handsome and nice."

"Yea. He is."

"Handsome or nice?" Kathy, cocked an eyebrow and smiled.

"Both." Olivia laughed.

"And he sure seems to have it bad for you!"

"Kathy...we hardly know each other and it only been two weeks since we've...we've..."

"Been dating?" She laughed.

Olivia started to argue with her, but found herself laughing right along with Kathy.

- - - - - - - -

Outside on the deck, things were not going as well. The conversation was stilted and tensions ran high. Porter had tried small talk, but Elliot was not in for it. So, he decided to try the 'to the point' method. " You don't like me, do you, Stabler?"

Elliot snorted as he turned the steaks. "What could possibly make you think that, Porter?" His voice tinged with sarcasm. He would like to knock him right up and over the porch railing and flat on his butt on the hard frozen ground.

"I am a detective, Detective. They pay me to watch people, assess their every action, every word, inflection of voice, analyze every emotion in their eyes they think they can hide. My intuitiveness is honed like the blade on a fine hunting knife. I'm just like you."

"Whether or not I like you is really a mute point given that my partner apparently does. So, I guess that means we're sort of stuck with each other." He took a few swallows of the beer in his hand.

"And that is precisely why you don't like me, isn't it?" He was going to push the envelope.

"What are you talking about?" He glanced at Porter who was finishing off his bottle of beer.

"Liv. You can't stand me because she does like me...enough to date me."

"We're partners. She can date whoever she wants. I just don't want to see her get hurt."

"You're jealous, Stabler."

"You're crazy, Porter...Liv and I are best friends."

He felt the familiar burning seeping into his being as his anger level began to rise. He felt the need to punch something, but he somehow maintained control.

"So she tells me...all the time. For two people who claim to be best friends, you sure seem to be at odds."

Elliot stiffened, laid the tongs down he was using to turn the steaks and faced Porter. He thought about that one well placed punch he wanted to deliver to the middle of Porter's face.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Elliot's eyes were blazing with the fire of his instant anger.

"Remember my detective skills? My gut says things are sour between you and Liv. Why? What's really going on with you two?" Porter stared unblinking at him.

The anger welled up within him, but he was determined to make it through this evening without inflicting bodily harm on Porter. His jaw clenched and his hands fisted. He took a deep breath and will self control upon himself.

"Whatever is between me and Liv is none of your business. If you insist of poking it where doesn't belong, you're gonna find yourself with a free nose job." His eyes were narrow slits, his voice low and menacing.

"Did I just hear you threaten a Federal agent?" Dean's voice was full of arrogance and sarcasm, as he stood up to his full height and put his empty beer bottle on the picnic table beside him.

Elliot quickly eliminated the space between them and stood toe to toe with Porter. He was only inches from his face and he had to look slightly up at Porter, but he spoke in the same menacing tone. "Is that what you heard? I am so sorry. I did not mean for it to sound like a threat."

He brushed an imaginary piece of lint from Porter's sweater, then smoothed over it with this right hand, patting his shoulder. He leaned just a bit closer. "It was a promise!" He growled. If looks could kill, it would be all over for Dean Porter.

Slamming the steaks on one platter and the potatoes on another, and shoving them into the Porter's arms, he was halfway in the house, when Porter made his last comment, just loud enough for Elliot to hear.

"She's not yours, Stabler."

He may be taller than Elliot, and about as big, but there was no doubt in his mind he would lose in any physical altercation with him. The man was pure muscle and simmering rage and built like a tank. Still, if he and Olivia were going to continue dating, he had to lay all that out there for Elliot to ponder, because for some reason he felt like Elliot was his competition. He also knew that if Liv ever found out about this conversation, he would have nothing to worry about because she would kick his butt just before she kicked him out of her life.

"Steaks are ready!!" Elliot hollered as he and Dean came in with platters of food. Elliot had the steaks and Dean the baked potatoes. Grilled baked potatoes.

Elliot felt like he being pulled farther and farther out and away from sanity, reality, caught in a riptide of emotions as Porter's words bounced off the walls of his mind, a persistent taunt, echoing, laughing. 'She's not yours, Stabler.' Not yours. Not yours. Not yours.

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A/N: You guys have made my Christmas with all your reviews. I cannot believe I am sitting here Christmas morning getting ready to post another chapter. Hope you enjoy it. " ) Bensler