A/N: The rest of their glorious "noche," and the history between Stabler and Phillips.

DISCLAIMER: SVU and its Characters belong to Dick Wolf. Storyline and dialogue, and narrative belong to TStabler©

Elliot and Olivia had only left the dance floor to eat and drink, barely socializing with anyone else. Not that anyone else was complaining. No one had ever seen this side of Stabler before. He was really going wild out there with Olivia, and the smile never left his face. A lot of people expected Olivia to be embarrassed, but she wasn't. She was having so much fun, and to her, he was the only other person in the room.

A slow song began, one that Elliot had taken to singing to Olivia randomly in the middle of the night, and they smiled sweetly at each other. He pulled her close, linking their lefts hands as his right arm wrapped around her waist. "They're playing our song, baby," he whispered into her ear, almost seductively.

"So I hear," Olivia said, resting her head on his shoulder. "Wonder why." She smirked, knowing that he'd stopped off at the DJ Booth on his way to the bar and asked the man to play this song.

Elliot grinned and kissed the top of her head. "No idea, Liv." He held her tightly to him, spinning her around the floor, as he hummed the song to her softly. "It's true, Liv," he said as he dropped a sweet kiss to her neck.

"What is?" she asked, picking her head up and looking at him.

"I really am amazed by you," he said, using the lyric to express his feelings. "I can't believe we're here, sometimes. I feel like I'm gonna wake up tomorrow, and Kathy's gonna be there, yelling at me for dreaming about you."

Olivia chuckled. "I know, El. I feel like that, too, but then I realize that this all very real. And as crazy as it was, how we got here, I'd never go back. Not for a second."

"I love you, Olivia," he said, kissing her.

She brushed her nose against his. "I love you, too, Elliot," she said, watching his eyes light up.

"I think this is good practice, baby," he said, looking around at the still-sitting, stiff and staunch cops who were all staring at them.

"For what?" Olivia asked, listening to the final verse of the Lonestar tune as she rested her head back on his shoulder.

He leaned his head on hers, swaying and spinning. "The wedding," he said, giving the crown of her head another peck. "We are the center of attention, and everyone in this room is either jealous or thinks we're the fucking cutest thing they've ever seen." He dipped her as the song ended, kissed her, and pulled her up. "And that's exactly how it's gonna be on our wedding day."


They'd gotten home around nine-thirty, read the kids three bedtime stories to make up for being gone so long, and then, as soon as they were asleep, Elliot grabbed a bag from the bedroom that he'd packed before, and pulled Olivia down the stairs. They waved to Frank, who rolled his eyes, and left, climbing back into the SUV. "We don't have to do this, ya know," Olivia said, looking up at the house.

"Baby," Elliot said, starting the car. "I'm afraid that if we don't, the kids are gonna be asking a lot of questions in the morning that we aren't ready to answer." He laughed when she chuckled and they headed for the Hyatt.

"So, what exactly happened between you and Phillips?" Olivia asked as they pulled out onto a busy Queens street, heading into the city.

Elliot shook his head and sighed. "I've always been one step ahead of him, Liv. He got a seventy on his entrance exam, I got a ninety. He could only point and shoot with his right hand, I could use both. He did fifteen extra training hours by graduation, I did twenty. I ran faster, I was stronger, I was..."

"Way hotter," Olivia said, sounding like a teenager.

Elliot laughed. "You see my point. Anyway, we were both up for this special services award and he was told the night before graduation that he got it. Well, graduation day, they called my name instead of his. I asked my CO about it, and all he could tell me was that a national police bulletin published an article that led to the closure of eighteen open rape and assault cases at Fort Meyers, and the author specifically thanked me. That put me over Phillips at the last minute." He raised an eyebrow and smirked at her.

"Holy shit," she said, shocked. "My thesis!"

"Yeah," Elliot said, nodding. "I didn't make the connection until Phillips came storming into the squadroom the other day reminding me about it. Even when we were apart, you had my back."

Olivia hummed and raised her eyebrows. "Guess you can't screw with fate, huh?"

"Nope," Elliot agreed, pulling off of the highway and onto a busy Manhattan avenue. He turned down a one-way street and pulled up next to a pimply-faced kid in a red jacket. He got out of the car, ran around to help Olivia out of her side, and handed the kid a twenty-dollar bill, and flashed his badge. "If this car has so much as a wayward fingerprint on it, I'll arrest you. Got it?"

The kid, shaking, nodded and got into the car. Elliot chuckled as he watched the SUV move, very slowly, into the valet lot of the Hyatt and fade into the distance as the kid found a spot far away from the other cars. He laughed harder when he watched the kid pull his sleeve down over his fingers to turn the key, and get out of the car. Olivia had to laugh, then, too, when the boy tried to close the door and set the alarm without using his hands.

Elliot shook his head when the boy ran back and handed him his keys. "Thanks," he said to the valet. He grabbed the duffel bag and walked into the hotel, still chuckling.

Before she followed him, however, Olivia looked at the kid and said, "You know he really couldn't have arrested you for getting fingerprints on his car, right?" When the boy's eyes widened, Olivia laughed and walked into the hotel to catch up with Elliot.

He checked them in and they headed to their room, opened the door, and before Olivia could say anything, Elliot had her locked in his arms and his lips were attached to hers. It was as if he'd never kissed her before; as if he truly tasted her for the first time at this moment. He was nibbling on her tongue and her bottom lip and running his hands through her hair, over her body, never once breaking contact. He was incredibly happy she was in a dress, because nothing needed to go over her head to interrupt his continuous assault on her mouth. His fingers slid the zipper down, slowly, and Olivia moaned in anticipation. She worked him out of his pants as he skimmed over her body under the dress.

Her own hands were busy shirking away his jacket and tie, nimbly flicking open the buttons on his shirt and effortlessly smoothing it off of his shoulders. As her hands ran over his bare arms, she felt his tattoos, both of them, that were constant reminders of the way they'd been brought into each other's life. The Marine seal emblazoned on the inside of his arm, shouting to them that the whole reason he was with her that night to begin with was because he was a Marine, on leave for one week, spending one night in upstate New York on the way to the city. Jesus, who wore a crown of thorns and "Olivias", reminding them that she had been a sin and he, a sinner. Her finger grazed over the crown, and she felt the raised letters of her name, scripted three times in rapid succession. She moaned again, against the still-unbroken kiss, as the tremendous realization that his promise to find her again had been kept.

Similar thoughts were racing through Elliot's mind as he heard the dress plop to the floor and he searched, eyes closed, with agile hands, to find the straps and clasp to the white lace bra she was wearing. He found, first, the chain and charm around her neck. His fingers followed the chain, not the original since his mother ripped the first one to pieces, down to the valley between her breasts and they clutched the gold, diamond laden cross. For them, it wasn't about faith in God, or Heaven. It was a symbol of her faith in Elliot. Her faith in his promise to come back for her, his promise to find her. And keep her. And he did. He clenched the cross in his fist as he deepened the kiss, even more, telling her, in a way, that he was a man of his word.

He dropped the cross and finagled the bra away from her silky skin, letting it, too, fall to the floor. He picked her up, wrapping her firmly around his waist, and carried her over to the bed, flinging them softly onto the mattress. His lips finally detached themselves from hers and began to explore her neck and her chest and her belly, lower and lower. He clutched the sides of her white lace panties, smirking at them, silently thinking how amazing they would have looked under a wedding dress. "What a shame," he said, and tugged them off of her. "Lace rips so easily, Liv," he said with a grin.

"Normal people don't really go around ripping off their underwear, El," Olivia said, grinning right back at him.

"We're not normal," he quipped, bending his head to kiss the warm, wet canal he'd positioned himself in front of. He licked her, twice, and heard two amazingly loud cries. "Oh, hell yes," he said, popping his head up. "See, that's what tonight is about." He smirked and resumed his licking. Every time he heard her moan, he'd lick her deeper. She came in mere seconds, but he didn't stop. She was in a bit of pain, but it was a good kind of pain.

"Oh, my God, El," she cried. Her right hand had entangled itself in the sheet, twisting it into a braided, knotted mess. Her left was twirling the long parts of his hair, scratching at his scalp, egging him on. "What the fuck…"

"I told you," he said, looking up at her. "I'm gonna make your head spin." He winked, then reattached his mouth to her clit, sucking, hard. She growled and he lost it. He got to his knees, pointed and snapped at her and said, "Up!" and waved a hand over the headboard.

Olivia's eyes darkened and she sat up a bit and scooted back, doing as she was told.

Elliot's eyes were a deep, midnight blue, now, and he crawled over in front of her. "I know you're a screamer, baby," he said, positioning himself between her legs. "And before we're done, everyone on this floor is gonna know it, too." He made sure her back was flush against the headboard, he trickled his fingers lightly over her body and grabbed her hands. He brought her arms up to the top of the bed and wrapped her hands around the top. "Hold on, don't let go," he told her. He chuckled when he saw the shocked and slightly nervous look in Olivia's almost black eyes. He ran his hands gently back down her body and moved her legs around his waist, linking her ankles behind him. He wrapped one of his hands around her neck and placed the other one on the headboard, next to her head. "I love you," he said, looking deeply into her eyes, darker than he'd ever seen them.

"I love you, too," Olivia replied, still wondering why she was backed up against the headboard, why he'd told her to hold on, why he was looking at her like that.

He gave her an answer when he gripped her neck and kissed her quickly. Then, Elliot pushed against the headboard, and speared into her, causing the both of them to cry out, loudly. He loved the noise, the sound of her voice, the way she yelled and screamed his name, the way to anyone listening, they would know damn well they were cries, moans and groans of pure pleasure.

She couldn't get enough of his grunts, and cries of her name. She held him closer, disregarding his command to hold on to the headboard, wrapping one arm around him and clawing at his back. The second he felt her nails on his skin, he growled her name along a string of four letter words he usually reserved for the interrogation room. Olivia grinned when she felt the first of many mind-blowing orgasms approaching. The upright position was definitely making her head spin. "El," she cried. "God, Elliot. Oh, my God, Elliot."

"Jesus, Olivia," he said, slamming into her, slamming her into the headboard, violently. "Don't hold back, baby."

Olivia didn't hold anything back. She screamed and cried, nothing but Elliot's name and a few loud prayers to God and Jesus.

The man in the next room, sitting against his own headboard, feeling the thuds and listening to the moans and screams, so loud, right in his ears, rolled his eyes. He didn't get out of the bed though. He smirked. He knew he shouldn't have told Elliot where he was staying while his apartment was being renovated. Phillips chuckled and settled back on his pillow. "Fuck, Stabler. You lucky son of a bitch," he mumbled. "Just wait, though. You'll get yours."

A/N: I told you guys that Elliot liked an audience. =) More to come, if you want it!