A/N: Did Alex screw with Olivia's cases, or are they all clean wins? How will their last night in Paris go? What happens on the plane home?

DISCLAIMER: SVU and related characters belong to Dick Wolf. Story, dialogue, narrative and plot belong to TStabler©

"You can stop talking about it," Fin said, squeezing the bridge of his nose as he went through his fifth box of evidence.

Munch hummed in agreement. "We don't really want to think about Olivia having sex, thanks," he said.

"And definitely not with Stabler," Fin said with a shudder. "They're like family, Jo, so could you stop?"

Jo Marlowe smirked as she read through the file in her hands carefully. "Just telling you what I had to deal with for the last four days," she said. "And they really are incredible fun to watch. I'm sure you'll find that out. They'll get it on around here, trust me. Was she ever a gymnast? Because this one time she got her leg all the way up around his..."

"Jo!" Cragen yelled, tempted to cover his ears and start humming. "She's like my daughter! Could we concentrate on making sure she doesn't lose her fucking job?"

Marlowe chuckled. "And not on what kind of job she does fucking, you mean?"

The men in the room groaned and Casey threw more files down in front of Marlowe. "Look, I know you don't particularly like her, but you like Elliot. That's his wife, the mother of his child. You've also got four people in this room who will hurt you if you say anything else negative about her, so have a little fucking respect, and just do your damned job."

"Five," Trevor Langan said, walking in. "And this one might not hurt her but he'll fire her." Jack McCoy was behind him, looking a little glum. "It's a real party now, isn't it?"

McCoy dropped a cardboard box and a jug onto a table in the corner. "Coffee and donuts," he said. "That's still what cops like in the morning, right?"

"Morning, afternoon, middle of the night," Fin quipped, heading for the refreshments. "Thanks Jack."

"Hey," McCoy said, "Benson is one hell of a detective. Just because I asked for this investigation, doesn't mean I'm not on her side. I don't think any one of her cases was fixed by any fault of her own." He held out a hand to Casey, asking for a file. "I'm willing to help you prove it."

Casey gave him a soft look as she handed him a file.

"Hold on," McCoy said, "If you're all in here, who the hell is getting rapists off the streets today?"

Cragen chuckled. "Conroy, Devlin, Hampton and Elroy," he said. "They're all here, and they're all on cases."

Munch tossed evidence bags back into the box in front of him and resealed it, saying, "Everything's good with these." He stacked the box in the corner of the room and re-filed the case folders he had been examining.

Trevor sipped his coffee and sat down. "We have nine hours until Tucker comes up here, asking for your findings and the chief's decision," he said. "Olivia and Elliot are my best friends. Give me that box and tell me what I have to do."

Casey smirked at him and plopped an evidence box down in front him along with a pair of latex gloves.

Heads turned as they heard two more clearing throats from the interrogation room doorway. "Hey gang," Melinda Warner said. Ryan O'Halloran from the crime lab was next to her. "We only have an hour, but...is there anything we can do?"

Cragen looked around the room, at all of the people who were so willing to help, and he knew that this was more than a place to work. These people were more than Olivia and Elliot's friends and colleagues; these people were family. "Help with the evidence?" Cragen suggested. He looked at Jo Marlowe, then at Casey, and he nodded. "I think we're gonna be okay."


"This place is just so...you," Olivia observed, leaning over the table to Elliot. She had been looking around the hazy, dim, jazz club and smirking, thinking that this was definitely the type of place he would have taken her on a date. If they had dated.

Elliot wrapped both of his hands around hers and nuzzled her nose. "Why do you say that?" he asked, listening to the saxophone in the background but his eyes fixed on her.

Olivia's lips brushed against his lightly. "You love jazz," she said. "You also love the dark, and this place...El I can't see anything except you and the musician, since there's a spotlight on him."

"Well, I like intimacy," Elliot said, kissing her softly, "And privacy."

Olivia chuckled. "You just like being able to do naughty things in public without risking anyone really knowing," she teased, elbowing him playfully in his side.

"That, too," Elliot said with an evil smirk, letting one hand drop to her thigh. It moved slowly up her skin, sliding under the fabric of her red dress.

"I was kidding," Olivia whispered, suddenly still, breathless.

Elliot chuckled. "I'm not," he said. "It's our last night in Paris," he whispered. "It's a thrill, think about the excitement. Baby, no one can see us, look around," he said softly, kissing the skin just below her ear, making her shudder.

"I would, but I can't see anything," Olivia said with a light chuckle. She felt his hand move higher up her leg, under her dress, and his fingertips grazed the edge of her panties. He let go of her hand and caressed her cheek, cupping her face, watching the anticipation and anxiety etch into her features.

"Look at me," Elliot said in a whisper, his voice firm but not forceful. He saw Olivia's eye open and roll toward his, and he saw how dark they were, almost black. He pulled her closer to him, the action making his hand to move just a bit, brushing over her silk-covered slit, causing her to gasp. Elliot chuckled. He could be an arrogant bastard sometimes, and there was nothing he enjoyed more than being on a power trip. He slid the hand from her face down her body, wrapping it securely around her waist.

Olivia had a good idea of what was about to happen. Her heart was somewhere between stopping altogether and pounding so hard and fast she thought it might explode. She listened to the music, and just as the drums kicked in, joining the sax, Elliot, who obviously knew what he was doing, began stroking the back of his finger over her covered mound, right in time with the beat. Teasing her. Torturing her.

Elliot watched, in amazement and with an overwhelming sense of pride, as Olivia drew her bottom lip into her mouth, scraping it between her teeth. He watched her eyes flutter shut and he clicked his tongue. "You don't get to close your eyes, honey," he whispered to her. "Not yet, not here." He leaned closer to her, smirking, and said, "Just look at me. Listen to the music, and look at me."

Olivia turned her head toward his again, pressing her forehead to his, and her hands ran down his chest. He wanted to play? Well, they'd play then. When her fingers gripped his belt, the music picked up a bit of speed, got louder, and Elliot let out a purely demonic laugh. If she didn't know him, she might have been scared.

Elliot had never felt so confident, so proud of himself. He had a goal, he had something to prove tonight, and he was well on his way to proving it. "You're really gonna do this," he whispered to her, a statement, but a mildly disbelieving one.

"Like you said, It's our last night in Paris," Olivia whispered to him, working him out of his pants, just enough. She saw the relief and the expectancy on his face. "No one can see us," she pointed out, and that music is..." her eyes widened a bit and her smirk grew to match his. "You planned this."

Elliot grabbed the hem of her panties and pushed them aside, sliding a finger through the tremendous wetness he found. "Plan worked," he whispered. "You want this, and you can't fucking deny it. Tonight, what I wanted to do was prove that no matter where we are, who we're with, what's going on around us," he ran his finger back down her slit, watching her lips press together, "There will always be us. We will always come first, and we can ignore the rest of the world. Baby, nothing else exists. Just you. Me. Us." He pushed his finger into her and pulled her onto his lap, kissing her and sliding and thrusting his finger in and out, then adding another one. Her hand moved back down to his shaft and wrapped around him, and the rest of the world really did go away.

The dark jazz club was filled with hazy smoke from the candles and the incredible tones from the horns and the drums, and the patrons were all oblivious to the quietly passionate couple at a table in the corner, lost in a world of their own.


"Marlowe," Trevor said, sliding an evidence box toward Munch, who stacked it on top of the pile, "What are you mumbling about over there?"

Jo wagged the file in her hands and said, "These." She patted the pile of folders next to her. "There are inconsistencies...but not...I mean, Cabot didn't screw with Olivia's evidence, or testimony, or witness statements."

Fin glanced at Casey, sighed, and said, "That's good, but I feel a 'but' comin' on."

"But," Marlowe said. "She screwed with Elliot's."

"What?" Casey spat, ripping the open file out of Jo's hands. "Son of a bitch, she misquoted him, and his statements aren't signed, there's nothing in here about a warrant...she probably didn't even give any of these to Elliot," she said, huffing.

Cragen looked at Marlowe and held out his hand. "Gimme one," he demanded.

Jo slapped a folder into the captain's open palm and said, "They were all cases he either worked solo, or with Olivia. She was trying to make him look bad, not make Benson look good. She wanted him out of here."

Munch looked down at watch, then looked at the case numbers on the files. He got up and went to the far left corner of the room and shuffled boxes around, grabbing two of them.

Fin, knowing what he was doing, pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number, waiting a moment. "Yo, Ruben, man, it's Fin," he said. "You need to get up here. We gotta get into Stabler's computer. We don't have a lot of time and...he's on his honeymoon, I'm not gonna call and interrupt what I have been told is some Olympic gold medal winning sex to get his pass...don't worry about how I know. Yeah, thanks." He slapped the phone closed.

Trevor grabbed one of the boxes from Munch, and followed him out, heading down to the lab with O'Halloran. Casey looked at Cragen and McCoy and said, "None of this was his fault."

"I know that," Cragen said, "So will Tucker, but the chief...he hates when mistakes are made. If any of those cases were won or lost when they shouldn't have been..."

"I know," Casey said, nodding. "I just hate that they have to come back from what was probably an amazing week, move into a new house, deal with Olivia's pregnancy, and find that his job is on the line. They need the..."

Cragen's eyes widened. "Shit," he spat. "I'll be back in an hour. Do not let them take a break and if you find out that any of those mistakes were Elliot's, call me." He ran out of the room and out of the bullpen, clearly in a hurry to get somewhere.


Elliot peered over at the sleeping woman next to him, and he smiled. He brushed her hair back, kissed her forehead, and craned his neck, trying to get the flight attendant's attention.

A man in a blue and red uniform walked over and said, "What can I get you, sir?"

Elliot smiled politely at the attendant. "Can I get a blanket and a pillow? My wife fell asleep, and..."

"Of course," the man said, smiling and nodding. "Anything else?"

"Two bottles of mineral water and, uh, some kind of aspirin," Elliot said, squeezing the bridge of his nose.

Olivia scooted closer to him. "I'm not asleep," she whispered, "And why didn't you tell me you had a headache?"

"You'd worry," Elliot whispered to her, kissing her forehead again. "And you're the one that we need to worry about. We didn't get a lot of sleep, and that chair in that club wasn't the most comfortable place to..."

"Oh, I was pretty damn comfortable," Olivia said with closed eyes and a smirk, wrapping her arms around his and using his shoulder as a pillow. "I'm fine," she said, sighing into him.

Elliot dropped his head to hers. "We have a doctor's appointment tomorrow," he told her. "I can't wait."

"Me either," Olivia said, her smirk growing into a smile. "Are you sure you're ready for this? I mean, I know it was you're idea, and you..."

"I'm ready for everything," Elliot said, "The second I asked you to marry me, baby. I was ready for it all. Why? Are you...are you thinking that you're not?"

Olivia looked up at him, her eyes droopy. "I'm ready, El," she said, meaning it. "We're gonna be amazing, ya know."

Elliot chuckled. "Yeah, we are," he told her. "Look what we've done with Maury, and imagine what it's gonna be like starting from the beginning. This baby is gonna be loved, and spoiled. And, honey, our child is gonna be beautiful and smart, generous, and caring like Mommy."

"And don't forget strong and athletic," Olivia said. "We're both in great shape. And of course, a tad bit conceited and slightly arrogant, like Daddy," she teased.

"Well, as a Stabler," Elliot said smugly. "It's his or her right to be a bit cocky."

Olivia leaned her head up and kissed him as the flight attendant returned with their water, Elliot's aspirin, the blanket, and the pillow. "Excuse me, sir, but are you, uh, Detective Elliot Stabler?"

Elliot popped the pills in his mouth, nodding as his chugged the water. "Yeah, how did you..."

"Your name's attached to your ticket, you were in the computer, Sir," the man said, cutting him off. "And you must be Detective Olivia Benson, then?"

Olivia sat up, nervous, nodding. "Why are you asking?"

"We have a, uh, situation," the attendant said. "Would you both please, come with me?"

Olivia looked at Elliot, cautiously, and they rose from their seats, following the attending through the black curtain separating first-class from coach. "What kid of situation?" Elliot asked, his headache getting worse as he tried like hell to keep from panicking.

The attendant cleared his throat and led them to the back of the cabin, near the closet. "This kind of situation," he whispered.

Olivia put her hands on her hips and looked up at Elliot. He looked at her and his mouth was caught between a scowl and a smirk. "Lemme guess, you want us to handle this bck here so you don't cause pandemonium on the plane until we land?"

The attendant nodded. "Security at JFK has already been notified. No one will be getting off the plane when we land. I'm not really sure which jurisdiction..."

"Ours," Olivia said, crouching down next to the closet, looking at the twisted body of the naked woman. She looked up at Elliot again and said, "I guess the honeymoon's over."

Elliot chuckled and rolled his eyes, not realizing how very true that statement was.

A/N: Will the team get the cases straightened out before Tucker and the chief show up? Where did Cragen go in such a hurry? Who is the girl on the plane, and how is she connected to someone at SVU? I assure you, it was no coincidence. I shall answer these questions, along with some family fluffiness with Maureen and the new house, if you want me to! Tell me here, or on Twitter, TMG212!