A/N: I don't believe you, but I must admit, you've got all the right things to say. (Son Lux)
DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters as written on the TV show, but this version of them? All mine.
"You okay?" The question came out barely above a whisper, each small word holding with hesitation and apprehension. She bit her lip as silence answered her, her feet betraying her by taking her closer to the couch, where he sat slumped over and scowling.
Her eyes dropped to his bruised knuckles, and a small seething grimace twisted the features in her face, the moment playing back like film noir: in black and white and blood red. "You," she began, but stopped. Her breath caught when he looked up at her. The severity in his eyes made her stiffen, but the million other emotions etched into his features softened her again. "You really…"
"Sorry," he shrugged, but he wasn't sorry. He'd do it all again in a heartbeat. He had a temper, everyone knew it, and this wasn't the first time he roughed up a perp in the box. It wouldn't be the last, either, since nearly everyone who witnessed it would've done the same thing. He chuckled, then, and shook his head. "No, um... I mean, I'm sorry for scaring you, but I'm not sorry for wailing on that son of a bitch."
She took a silent breath and let her body fall into the cushion next to him. "Scare me?" She scoffed and reached out for one of the bottles of warm beer set on the coffee table. "You didn't scare me, you…" she cleared her throat as she unscrewed the top. She took a long sip and then licked her lips, trying to figure out how to explain exactly what he'd done to her, because it was definitely not fear she'd felt in that interrogation room.
"I tried to keep it cool," he said, saving her from speaking. He kicked the blue duffel bag at his feet and then turned his head toward her. "When he started talking about what he did to that little girl, the look on his face, I just…" he gritted his teeth and shook his head again. "And then the way he looked at you, and when he said…" his face reddened, the vein in his neck pulsed.
She held her breath as her hand moved, slower than she thought possible, toward his bouncing leg. Her palm cupped his knee and instantly, the jittering stopped. She felt herself tense when his eyes met hers, his head had turned too quickly to process. Her eyes stung with the need to blink, but they didn't dare. "Me?" Her voice was hoarse. Weak.
He nodded and blindly dropped the bottle from his hands to the coffee table, not caring if it landed upright. He swiveled his body toward hers and watched helplessly as his hands flew to her upper arms, gripping them tightly. "I can't fucking explain this, I don't...I don't get it."
Still not breathing, she nodded once, knowing that anymore exertion that that would lead to her fainting, or worse. Her chest burned with her eyes, now, and her throat went dry.
He gave a mirthless laugh, shaking his head, while his hands trailed down her arms to her fingers entangled themselves with hers, and he sighed, defeated. "When I was fifteen years old," he started, staring down at their dancing fingertips, "I had this dream...it was so real, I remember it like a memory." He cleared his throat and turned her left hand over in his, then started to draw swirling patterns in her palm with his right ring finger. "I was at this party, in some huge house I'd never really been to before, and there was this girl." His eyes popped up. "Beautiful, exotic, dark hair and even darker eyes," he let himself smirk at her. "I was with Kathy, I was with friends, but I ignored them all...just kept staring at this...creature. She was just leaning against the wall, a drink in her hand, staring back at me."
"I really don't need to hear about your wet dreams, Elli-"
"I think it was you," he said, cutting her off, making her freeze again. His hands stopped moving, his grip on her tightened. He saw the incredulous look inher eyes,and stammered out an exuse. "I mean, I know it couldn't have been, I didn't know you, never saw you...but what I mean is...now, when I remember that dream...the girl is you. The same look in your eyes, the same nonchalant attitude, you don't know how fucking beautiful you are."
She felt her face heat up and knew she was blushing, but she shook her head and tried to turn her eyes before he noticed. She cringed slightly when she felt his fingers cup her chin, pulling her focus back to him. Her eyes met his and everything she thought she was only imagining stared back at her, as real as can be, in his gaze. She gave him a small smile but pulled herself out of his light hold.
He dropped his hand with a sigh and shook his head as he reached for his beer. "I know, you think I'm just an asshole, looking for a way to get my rocks off, on the rebound from my failing marriage, but I swear I…"
"That's not what I think at all," she told him. She wrapped her thin fingers around the neck of her own bottle and lifted it toward her mouth. Before she sipped, though, she spoke again. "And your marriage...it can be fixed. You can work through it. You two have been together for…"
"Too long," he scoffed, cutting her off. "Liv, you have no idea what I've realized in the past couple of weeks. I don't know her anymore," he almost whispered. He took a swig of his beer and swallowed with a scowl. "She's a different person than she was when we...well, I mean, we both are, but…" he pressed his lips together and stared at the peeling label on the bottle. "My kids mean everything to me, they do, they're my whole world. But I can't stay with someone who doesn't make me feel…" he turned to look at her. The words were lost on his lips, hovering around his teeth and tongue, and he tried to give them a voice.
She tilted her head, listening, eager to hear the rest of his sentence, but he said nothing. "Makes you feel…" she dragged out the word, prodding him.
He smirked at her and relaxed, bringing one foot up onto the couch and leaning back against the arm on his side. "You know, loved. Wanted. Desired." He eyed her more sternly, his smirk becoming smoky and his eyes piercing hers. "Safe. Home." The way you make me feel was on the tip of his tongue, but he felt like a fool for thinking it and couldn't bring himself to say it. "Things you should feel for the person you promised to love and honor and cherish for the rest of your life." He licked his lips and furrowed his brow. "Looking back, I…" he paused, lifted a finger, and held it to her. "I have never told this to anyone, I don't think I ever even said it out loud." He dropped his hand and told her, "I don't think it was a promise I truly wanted to make, and it's one I always knew I'd break."
"You're upset," she whispered, peeling at the sticky label on her amber bottle. "I could...I could talk to her. You don't have to feel like…"
"Christ, kid," he spat, running one hand down his face. He shifted forward and slammed the beer bottle down on the coffee table. "You're not listening."
"I'm listening," she defended just as gruffly. "Forgive me for trying to pretend you aren't trying to tell me the one thing that could fuck up your entire life!"
"My life is already fucked up!" He yelled, turning, but he softened as soon as he saw the ire in her eyes. "I'm not in love with my wife, I'm closer than I should be to my partner, whom, may I add, I haven't even known that long! Closer than I should be to anyone! And I'm pretty sure I'm falling…"
Her cell chirped, silencing the confession he wasn't ready to make, that she wasn't ready to hear, and that neither would be ready or willing to ignore.
She shot him an apologetic look, reaching for her cell and exchanging it for the bottle of beer in her hand. She cringed slightly at the name lighting up the screen. "Hey," she said, answering it. "Tired, but otherwise okay. It's not...no, just working. A lot. I know, me...me, too. Yeah, I'll call you. Bye." She hung up and sighed again, dropping her head back and closing her eyes. "Shit."
"Was that Scott?" He asked the question already knowing the answer.
She nodded but then chuckled. He called to see how I was, he said he missed me, and asked if I needed anything...and it didn't even…" she turned her head to the side and looked into Elliot's eyes. "What were you saying?"
He blinked once. When he opened his eyes and stared at her, he felt his chest tighten. He knew what he was about to do would kill the last shred of moral decency he had, but he realized he didn't care. He moved closer to her, and when he was an inch or two away, he said, "I think I said enough."
She gasped softly when he pressed his lips to hers, but she didn't move away. Her head lifted a bit, just enough for him to slip his hand behind as he scooted closer to her. One of her arms looped around his neck as the other weakened enough to let her cell phone slip away and fall to the floor.
He let out a very light moan, pulling back slowly, licking his lips. "Just…" he took a breath as he spoke with closed eyes. "Wait a minute for you punch me." He heard her laugh and opened his eyes, waiting.
"What was that for?" she asked, sitting up a bit straighter.
He shrugged and scratched the back of his head sheepishly, moving back a bit more. "I just...I guess I wanted to tell you...show you that…" he narrowed his eyes and tilted his head. "You kissed me."
Her eyes widened. "Excuse me? I'm pretty sure you're the one that…"
"No, no, I mean...when I kissed you, you didn't move or stop me or hit me," he smiled at her. "So...you…"
"That shouldn't have happened," she said, suddenly standing. "You're married, and I...I'm seeing…" she turned on her heels and knelt to pick up her phone. "We work together, we are partners, we…"
He stood fast and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her to him, and before she could process another thought, his lips were on hers again. Her whimper was caught on his tongue, her resolve being kissed away.
With a shuddering moan, she resigned and let him kiss her, let herself love every moment, and let the world around them fade away.
At least until her phone rang again.
A/N: Yes, school has started and I have been driven insane by meetings, parents, students, lesson planning, and professional development. I look forward to my time to write, and I don't take it for granted at all, so thank you for waiting for this and reading. Much love.