A/N: His problem finally causes a problem.
DISCLAIMER: SVU and characters? Dick Wolf. This story? TStabler©
Olivia lifted a hand to her face, covering a yawn. "Is he still on the other side, or did he leave us here to do this alone?"
Elliot took the last sip of the cold coffee in his hand and grimaced. "He's there," he said. "He wouldn't leave. This is his case, if you ask him, and we're just tagging along." He put the empty cup into the holder near the radio and ran his hands up and down his face. "Fuck, this has been exhausting."
Olivia glared at him as she yawned again. "Who are you telling?" she asked, rolling out a kink in her neck.
"Come here," he said, leaning over the console. He rested both hands on her shoulders and squeezed, feeling the knots and tension immediately. "Christ," he hissed. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
She scoffed. "Well, let's see. I haven't slept in a real bed in days, my partner keeps fucking me nine ways from Sunday up against doors and walls which doesn't do much to relax me, Tucker has been following us like a starved puppy, and Cragen hates you after that stunt you pulled, which is why we're sitting in this car outside of a run-down motel at midnight on a Friday watching nothing happen."
He chuckled and rubbed his strong hands down her spine, his fingers digging into her mangled muscles and working the knots out. "It could be worse," he said. "It could be three in the morning on a Saturday." He kissed her neck and whispered, "We, uh, we don't really have to watch nothing happen."
"Are you...you've gone mental," she snapped. Then she moaned. "You bastard, that feels so good."
He kissed her neck again and worked his hands deeper into her flesh. "Tucker's got the next hour," he said. "I can just set an alarm on my phone." He slipped his hands under her shirt and rubbed harder, the skin-to-skin contact making him groan along with her. "Please?" he whispered, his tortured voice hoarse in her ear. "Baby, I don't know how much longer I can..."
"Stop," she said. She turned her head, looking at him over her shoulder. She saw the desperation in his eyes, and she reached down into his pocket.
He moaned, the contact proving to me more of a titillation than it should have been. "God, Liv," he said with a shiver.
She pulled out his cell phone, clicked a few buttons, and tossed it onto the dashboard. "I swear to God," she said, "If I lose my job because of your severe psychological..."
He silenced her with a kiss, moving fast and shifting his body between the seats. He kept his mouth against hers as he yanked her into the backseat, shifting things around and tossing her onto the cushions.
"Ow," she said, bucking her body into his. She rolled to the side, reaching an arm underneath her and ripping an empty water bottle out from under her ass. She tossed it into the front seat as Elliot began to work on unbuttoning her pants.
He looked at her with apologetic eyes and smirked when she reached for his belt buckle. "You're loving this," he said, shaking his head and laughing a bit.
"Uh, yeah," she said. "I love you, I love being with you, but this is just a little redic..."
He flattened over her again, kissing her and sliding her panties to the side. He stroked himself twice, all that was needed since he had been rock hard for several hours already.
She seethed as he entered her, then she sighed, feeling him bury himself in her completely. She gripped his hips as he began thrust, looping her fingers through his belt loops. She had to laugh as the pitiful hilarity of it, they were still fully clothed and romance was not a factor in this at all.
He moved fast, keeping one hand on the ceiling of the car so he wouldn't hit his head. He tried to shift his weight to keep her under him without falling off of the seat, but it was proving to be difficult. He hadn't really thought this through.
"Shit," she cursed. "Stop, baby."
He looked at her, puzzled, throbbing, and tilted his head. "Am I hurting you?"
"No," she said, arching her back. She pulled a sneaker out from underneath her and shot him a look. "How do you only have one sneaker back here?"
He shrugged, ripped it out of her hand, and tossed it into the front seat. He looked back down at her and smirked, moving in for a kiss. He thrust his hips, running his hands along her body slowly and tenderly, trying to let her know that this wasn't just because he needed the physical satisfaction of being with her.
She moaned beneath him, finding bliss in the midst of discomfort, and wondering if this was at all giving him the idea that she was in this, if he finally realized she would give him whatever he needed.
He suckled on her neck, moaning as he filled her. He felt her hands on him, felt her responding to him eagerly. "So tight," he mumbled, nipping at her skin.
"Hmm, El?" she cooed, clenching her muscles tightly."
"What, baby?" he asked, peering down at her, his body on fire, ready to blow.
She turned her head and said, "I think your phone is..."
Before she could finish talking, a loud and angry knock on the fogged up windows broke them apart. "Shit," he spat, pulling out of her, rushing to adjust himself, and hop into the front seat. He waited until Olivia was in the passenger seat, then rolled down the window.
Tucker wasted no time. "What the fuck have the two of you been doing? I've been calling you for twenty minutes! I had to go in there and...why are you out of breath and...are you...what was going on in this car?"
Elliot looked at Olivia, saw her bite her lip and run a hand through her hair, and she looked out the window, giving Tucker all the answer he needed.
"Calm down," Olivia said, cringing as his fist flew into the locker for the fifth time. "You're gonna break your hand."
"Haven't yet," he snapped, laying another punch into the metal. "A fucking week! Suspended for a goddamned week!"
"You could have been fired altogether!" she shouted, looking up at him as he paced around her in the locker room. "You're fucking lucky! We both are!"
"Lucky?" he barked. "You think this is...I had to explain my...issue...to Ed fucking Tucker! He laughed at me, Liv! He thought it was fucking hysterical!"
"Yeah, until you told him you only had this problem with me," she intruded. "That shut him up real fast."
Elliot scoffed. "Fuck, that's because every guy in the entire department has it bad for you. You're the only woman here that's straight and under three hundred pounds. I think Munch has fantasies about you."
"Now that's not fair!" she yelled.
"None of this is fucking fair!" he yelled back. "I didn't ask for this! I didn't wake up one day and say, 'Gee, I think I'm gonna leave my wife and develop a physical dependence on my partner so I can have an all-access pass into her pants!"
She folded her arms and countered, "I didn't ask to be the reason you ruined your life."
He dropped his head and sighed. "Honey, that's not...you didn't ruin anything." He took a deep breath and said, "You've made everything so much better, I just...this is so hard."
She turned her eyes up a bit and said, "I know it is, El. You're not in this alone."
"I know I'm not," he said with a small smile. "I've got you, and I'm pretty sure you're not leaving me anytime soon, right?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Is the Pope Catholic?"
He laughed and ran a hand through his hair. "I love you," he said. He bent over and kissed her sweetly, then said, "I'll see you at home." He caressed her cheek a bit, then picked up his jacket and walked out of the locker room, leaving her to close the case alone. With Tucker.
He strutted down the hall, heading back to the squad room. He thought about what had just happened, what could have happened if he didn't make sure Tucker understood Olivia was only trying to keep him functioning and shouldn't be punished for his faults. He had to make sure he would never let her risk her job for him again.
He walked through the bullpen doors, over to his desk, and he pulled open the bottom drawer. He reached into it and pulled out a stack of papers, biting his lip as he scanned the top sheet, as if he hadn't read them ten times already.
He picked up a pen and heaved a heavy sigh, bending over his desk and signing his name to each page. He dotted his last I, tossed the pen onto his desk, and straightened up. He looked at the papers, then looked at Cragen's door, then looked at Olivia's empty desk.
He knew he had to move, he had to take a step in one direction or the other. Out the door or toward Cragen's office. The problem was making the choice.
A/N: What choice does he make? Is it the right one? And Olivia realizes she may have a sure-fire way to hold onto Elliot after all. Review here, or on Twitter: TMG212