A/N: So, who slashed their tires? Is Andy really gonna give up that quickly? And how rough is too rough?
DISCLAIMER: SVU and its Characters belong to Dick Wolf. Storyline and dialogue, and narrative belong to TStabler©
They had called Hank from the bullpen, after getting a ride back with Cragen. He and Melinda didn't have a problem keeping the kids another night. The Warners were getting a much bigger Christmas basket this year.
Their car was currently in the crime lab's garage, being processed and examined to find out how the tires were slashed, with what tool and, if possible, by whom. Olivia was walking up and down the empty hallway and perked her head up when she heard a familiar grunting coming from the workout room. She approached the door, opened it slowly, and her breath hitched. God, the man was beautiful.
She watched him, her heart beating faster every time his fist hit the punching bag. His body was rippling and sparkling with a light sheen of sweat. She was definitely aroused. He, however, was definitely pissed off. First, he had to deal with his fiancée's insane ex sending her flowers, then he had to run into said ex and watch him hit on her right before someone slashed all four tires on their brand new car, ruining their perfectly planned evening of sex and snuggling. He was visualizing Andy's face with every punch, and somehow, it wasn't enough. There was a lot of steam he needed to blow off, and this wasn't working. He laid another blow to the bag with a hard grunt and that's when he heard Olivia moan. She couldn't help it.
A rush of adrenaline shot through him. "Liv?" he asked, stopping instantly, breathing heavily, holding the bag still.
"Oh, yeah. It's me," she stepped forward and was just about to rest a hand on his shoulder.
He jerked away from her. "Don't," he panted. "Touching me, right now, is a bad idea." He turned toward her and she saw the anger in his eyes, but she knew it wasn't directed at her.
"El," she said, "You're scaring me."
"Yeah," he said, squeezing his eyes shut. "I'm scaring myself, baby." His hands slid down the bag, trembling, and he stepped away from her, leaning his forehead up against the wall.
She grabbed his hand, gently. "I'm here, if you need me."
Elliot turned his head, slowly, with a fire in his eyes she'd never seen before. "I need you," he said. She went weak in the knees and he pulled her to him, roughly. "I told you touching me was a bad idea." He slanted his lips over hers and palmed her left breast through her shirt, squeezing. Shocked, but not resisting, Olivia groaned and ground her hips into Elliot, spurring him into motion. Still attached at the lips, he tore her shirt off, sending the buttons flying. He must have had one hell of grip on it because he ripped her bra apart, too. She shrugged out of the useless bits of cloth while Elliot pulled her slacks down, without unbuttoning or unzipping them, sending another button sailing across the room. He hooked a finger through the side of her panties, which were soaked, and ripped them clean off of her. She yipped in pain, briefly, hopped up, looping her legs around his waist and yelped when he slammed her into the wall.
They were still kissing, as Elliot tugged his sweatpants down just enough to free his painfully hard rod. She bit his already split lip as he impaled her with no warning, no ease, no grace. He made a painful, wincing noise, as his cut was reopened, but he didn't stop kissing her, he couldn't stop kissing her. He didn't start moving slowly like he usually did, no, this was frantic, rough, hard and almost violent right from the first thrust. Burying himself inside of her to the hilt, slamming in and out every time, he was brutal. But, she didn't seem to be complaining. On the contrary, she was making some of the most incredible noises he'd ever heard. Finally, he tore his lips away from hers. "Holy fucking shit," he said, pounding into her. "Am I hurting you, baby?"
She shook her head, her lips pressed so tightly together she couldn't speak. Her hands were wrapped around him, grasping onto whatever flesh they landed on, nails digging into him in ecstasy. He kept up his hammering, and reclaimed her mouth. He felt her clenching, the tightest he'd ever felt her get, and he realized that this is what he needed. This is how he had to vent his anger and frustration, by feeling her around him, bringing her to a hard, frenzied release and releasing his own pent-up tension. She screamed into his mouth as she fastened around him so tightly she almost shoved him out, but he, being stronger and more forceful than ever tonight, charged his way in one last time and spilled into her, crying out against her lips, through their seemingly perpetual kiss, and he held onto her as he stilled and rested inside of her, as she shook through the aftershocks of the most violent orgasm she'd ever had.
As he held her up against the wall, a bit of his lost common sense came back to him, and he realized that, maybe he was bit too rough. She was still shaking, when she would have usually calmed down by now, and he had destroyed all of her clothes. They were at work, she needed to leave this room, and that was impossible for her to do with a bra that was in two pieces, a shirt with no buttons and pants that wouldn't stay up. "Baby," he whispered to her, "Are you okay?"
"Still...cumming," she said, as he felt her pulsate around him.
"Holy shit," he said, shocked. "Really?" He kissed her head and her neck and her lips and waited, and when she'd finally stopped vibrating, she looked him in the eyes and leaned her head back against the wall. "Mother of Christ, Elliot," she panted. "What the fuck was that?"
"Angry sex." he said with a laugh. "But, not angry-at-you sex," he clarified, kissing her. He let her down, handed her pants and his sweatshirt to her and pulled up his sweatpants. "Are you sure I didn't hurt you?"
She pulled his sweatshirt over hear head as she answered him. "El, I'm sure it'll hurt like hell in the morning, but, baby, damn, that was amazing." She kissed him one last time before they walked back into the squadroom to find out who hurt their car.
Cragen was the only one left in the bullpen when they got there, and he looked almost as tired as they did. He furrowed his brow when he saw Olivia walking, very slowly, toward her desk. "Wow, Olivia, are you okay?"
"Yeah," she said, concentrating on walking straight. "Just really tired."
"We all are," Cragen said, rubbing his eyes. "Jenkins from the garage called up with some information. Your tires were slashed with a military issue serrated knife. He found the tip of the blade stuck in the rear left tire. It must have been the last one that was slashed. There was something in the trunk, too. Small grade explosives. Elliot, if you had started that car, you'd both be in the hospital. As for who it was, there were solid hand prints above each tire where the asshole leaned against the car."
"Good," Elliot said. "I'm not pissed off anymore. You can tell me, I promise not to kill him."
"You're going to smack yourselves for not even considering him," Cragen said. "Andy Eckerson."
Elliot looked downright stupefied. "Of course, Liv. He was there, he was irritated, jealous, annoyed. He walked away way too easily," he said, looking at Olivia and trying not to grin at her still-rosy cheeks. "No man would give you up without a real fight."
"El, we saw Andy get into his car after he talked to us. We watched him drive away," Olivia said, surprised.
Cragen's eyes widened. "Which means, he did it before he went over to the van."
"He wanted to talk to you, alone, hoping to get you to go home with him and leave me stranded there," Elliot said, shaking his head with a chuckle. "Stupid son of a bitch. He still has a death wish."
Olivia smirked. "I thought you said you weren't going to kill him."
"I'm not," Elliot said. "But, uh, I think Daddy Cragen might." They looked up at their captain, who had turned a bright shade of red.
"I'm not gonna kill him," Cragen said, snidely. "But, when I'm done with him, he'll wish I had." The graying man straightened up and headed for the door, turning his head before he left. "No one hurts my kids and gets away with it," he said with a wicked gleam in his eye as he stormed out of the bullpen, leaving Elliot and Olivia in stunned silence.
"El," Olivia said after a few minutes of staring at the doorway.
Elliot turned to her and took a hold of her hand. "What, baby?"
"Cragen drove us here," she said blankly.
"Yeah," Elliot said. "And he just went after the guy who was gonna blow us up. He called us his kids, Liv. I love that man."
"Me, too," she said with a warm smile. "But, how are we gonna get home?"
A/N: The kids finally spend a day with Liv and El, Olivia chooses her maid of honor and Fin and Casey fight and flirt! Next, if you say so! My birthday is tomorrow, and nothing says "Happy Birthday" like some reviews!?