Elliot watched Olivia walk down the hallway, and decided it was probably best if he gave her a little space. He started opening up some of the boxes, and saw they were filled with things for the kitchen. He hauled the boxes into the kitchen, and started looking around, trying to understand how Olivia organized everything. Once he figured it out, he unpacked the last few boxes.
He cleaned up the mess from their impromptu pizza party and moved the table and chairs to their rightful spot. He moved into the living room, and pushed and lifted all the heavy furniture into place. He kept sneaking peeks towards the hallway to see if Olivia was coming back. When he was done getting the furniture situated, he stood at the edge of the hallway. He strained to hear any sound coming from Elise's room. He could hear Olivia talking, and a few interjections from Elise. Even though he couldn't hear what they were saying, it sounded like Olivia was reading to her. He considered poking his head into her room, but after thinking about it for a minute, he decided against it.
He walked back into the living room and saw more boxes lined up against the wall. He opened the box at the top of the stack, and saw some pictures and candles and other miscellaneous things. He did the best he could, putting some on the mantel and others on some of the shelving they'd moved. He emptied out two boxes of books, and left one small box of items he had no idea what to do with. Olivia was going to have to deal with that one.
When he was done, he took several loads of garbage and packing boxes to the garbage chute. When he walked back into the apartment, he was happy with what he saw. The room looked warm and inviting, and he hoped Olivia would be happy that at least one room was pretty well complete. He saw the rocking chair sitting at the entrance to the hallway, and debated taking it down to nursery. He peered down the hall, and saw the door to Elise's room was still partially closed. He lifted the heavy rocker and struggled down the hallway, placing it down gently in the nursery. He stood in the room for a few minutes, thinking about the months ahead. He was excited that he was able to go through this pregnancy with Olivia. He had missed so much with Elise…
He was determined not to dwell on that. He had let it go for the most part. Looking back was never going to change anything. They had to move forward. But in rare moments like this, it made him wistful, thinking about all that he had missed out on. With Elise and with Olivia.
He turned back and walked down the hallway. When he got to Elise door, he listened again. This time, he didn't hear anything. He pushed the door open just a little, far enough so he could poke his head inside. He saw Olivia curled on her side and Elise snuggled up against her. Olivia had her arm slung over Elise's little body, creating a little protective shell. They were both sound asleep. Elliot backed out quietly, and closed the door.
He wondered if they were out for the night. He looked at his watch and saw it was almost 7; and he contemplated waking them up. Falling asleep now might mean they were up at 3AM, unable to sleep any longer. But he had seen the exhaustion in Olivia's expression and he thought maybe they needed the sleep.
He left Olivia a note on the kitchen counter, grabbed his keys, and headed out the door, taking the empty boxes he had stacked by the door.
EOEOEOEOEOEO
Olivia woke up slowly and realized she had fallen asleep in Elise's bed. Elise was wiggling next to her, and Olivia lifted her arm to free her. Elise didn't wake up, but spread out, kicking Olivia in the shins. She smiled, assuming that's what had woken her up. She gently pushed herself up, and Elise immediately spread out, taking up the space Olivia had just occupied.
Olivia covered her up with her blanket and turned on the nightlight. She gave her a light kiss on the forehead, and stood up. She ran a hand through her hair and hesitated at the door, listening to the quiet of the apartment. She walked down the hallway, bracing herself for the conversation she knew was coming. The conversation they needed to have.
She was surprised when she saw the living room was empty. And doubly surprised when she saw all the work Elliot had done. The couch and chairs were situated around the fireplace, with the coffee table squarely in the middle. The lamps were on low, and she saw he had placed some photos on the mantle, and others on the shelves. The books were unpacked, and she only saw one small box that was unpacked sitting hear the bottom shelf. On the other side of the room, the table and chairs were set against the wall, and she turned to look into the kitchen area. It looked like everything was in its place there too, and it appeared he had disappeared, along with the garbage and empty boxes.
She was amazed he had done all of this by himself, and also that he had done it so quietly that she'd been able to sleep just one room away. She walked into the kitchen, and saw a note on the counter.
Didn't want to wake you. Went to drop off truck. Be back soon. Love u.
She picked up the note and read it again. Love u.
She knew he did. She just wondered when he'd lost faith in her. In her ability to take care of herself. To make her own decisions.
He had told her that he would support her always. Apparently that didn't apply if he didn't agree with the decision she made.
When they'd been partners, his confidence in her had even surprised her sometimes. He had trusted her implicitly. The relied on each other, and his belief in her rarely wavered. They were equals. He had never questioned her capability in the most dangerous situations; relying on her skill and her instinct.
He may not have always agreed with her decisions…her theories…or her tactics. But he went with it until it she proved to be right…or wrong. He may have been overprotective sometimes, but it was never because he questioned her judgment. It was out of concern, and later she would learn, love.
So why now? Why was he hovering over her? Questioning…and practically dictating her decisions? What had she done to make him lose his faith in her? She thought back over the past several weeks, and saw the pattern there. Questioning her about things she was doing…telling her there was no rush to get back to work. She had told him she needed to feel a sense of accomplishment…to retain some sense of independence. It seemed he had been on the same page. But his actions didn't mirror his words.
She'd been angry when she walked into the living room and heard the conversation about her future. She realized she wasn't angry any more. She was just… Confused? Sad? Disappointed?
When she had told Elliot that she need to get things settled and start moving forward…that night they'd made their list…the very last thing on that was to get a job. She felt like they'd had numerous conversations without really talking about it. Well, maybe that wasn't accurate. They'd talked about it, but put off the hard conversation and the argument by deferring a final decision until later.
Later was now.
Elise was in school. By the end of the weekend, they would have everything unpacked and be officially moved in. There wasn't anything else on the list. She was ready to go back to work. More than ready.
She set the note back on the counter. She grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and saw a bowl of grapes. Suddenly, she realized she was hungry. She grabbed the bowl and a yogurt, found a spoon in a nearby drawer, and carried it all into the living room. She settled down on the couch and started popping grapes in her mouth. They tasted so good, and she realized that it was the first time in quite a while that the smell and taste of food didn't make her nauseous. She opened up the yogurt and curled her legs to the side, spooning a cool, creamy bite into her mouth.
She was about halfway through the container when she heard keys in the front door. She lowered the spoon and container and looked up at the door. She could tell Elliot was trying to be quiet as he slipped in the door. He paused when he saw her sitting there, watching him.
"You're up." He said.
She raised an eyebrow. She wanted to make a comment about stating the obvious, but she could feel tension radiating from him. She assumed it was because he wasn't certain what he was walking into. "Yes." Her tone was carefully neutral.
"You're eating." He said.
That comment got to her and she wanted to snap back at him. Instead, she ignored it and leaned over to set her yogurt and spoon back on the coffee table.
"I didn't mean…" He stopped, and held up a bag. "I stopped and picked up your favorite chicken salad. I thought maybe the pizza was too greasy and that maybe you'd be hungry."
"I do eat you know." She said, moving her eyes from his to the bag in his hand. She noticed he was still frozen at the door, not having moved into the room since he closed the door behind him. He was being careful…cautious. He mistook her silence for anger, and she supposed that was a legacy of the past. They had both always done a good job of shutting each other out when they were angry or upset. Talking about things had never come naturally. It was still hard, but she thought they'd come a long way.
It was a choice sometimes. It would be so easy to lash out at him right now.
She held out her hand, motioning towards the bag. "Thank you."
Elliot hesitated still, trying to dissect the sound of her voice. It was controlled and she wasn't showing emotion, one way or the other. He couldn't read anything in her face, and he didn't know where he stood right now. He knew she had to be angry about what happened earlier, and yet, he couldn't quite pinpoint her mood.
"Well?" she asked. "Is delivery over to the couch extra?"
Her smartass remark, delivered without so much as a smirk, jarred him from his thoughts. He propelled himself forward and came around the chair to hand her the bag. He sat down in the chair opposite her and watched as she pulled the container from the bag. She flicked her eyes into the container and then looked back at him. "You ate?"
Elliot nodded. "Yeah. I grabbed a sandwich but I ate it in the car on the way back. I was starving."
Olivia just nodded as she dug into the chicken salad. It was from the diner that they used to eat at all the time when she worked in SVU, and she knew he'd had to have driven out of his way to get it. If he was trying to get back in her good graces with these acts of kindness, he was doing a good job.
She kept her attention focused on her salad. "Thanks for unpacking everything in here. And getting this all set up. And cleaning up all the garbage. It looks great."
"Yeah." He said, his tone low and gruff.
She popped her head up then and saw him leaning back in the chair. He was wearing a worn black t-shirt that was stretched across his chest and arms, and a faded pair of jeans. He had his eyes trained on her and she could see the wariness there.
There was a part of her that wanted to keep him on edge. It would serve him right for being such an overbearing ass at times.
"If you're waiting for me to start yelling at you, we're going to be here for a while." She swore she could see some of the tension leave his body as he sat and stared at her. She leaned over and set the salad on the table and took a sip of water. She sat back, surprised he hadn't said anything.
"I'm not trying to tell you what you can and can't do." He started out, but he could tell she wasn't buying it.
Olivia didn't say anything. She could tell even he didn't believe what he said.
"I'm just worried about you. The risk is high. You could get hurt." He waited for some kind of reaction to what he was saying, but she still kept her expression neutral. "When I think of you back out on the street…"
"So when I was in SVU before, I could cut it but now I can't?"
"I was your partner. I had your back."
"Oh, so I wasn't actually capable of doing my job or defending myself. It was all you."
Eliot leaned forward and shook his head. "That's not what I said."
She raised one eyebrow. "That's sure what it sounded like."
He rested his elbows on his knees. "Just listen to me a second. It's not that I don't think you could do the job, it's just that I don't think you should. Things are different now. We have a daughter." He watched her, and he could see her jaw clench slightly. He knew she wanted to say something, but she held her tongue. "I think you told me you didn't go back to police work in Connecticut because you recognized the risk." He knew it was more than that. She'd been a single mother and everything was magnified in that scenario: the long hours and the calls in the middle of the night didn't work. And the risk of being hurt, with no backup/father/friends to be there only made it worse.
"Thanks for laying that all out for me." She said, and she knew the sarcasm in her voice didn't go unnoticed. She played with the ring on her finger, twisting it around as she spoke. She unfolded her legs and set them down on the ground, leaning slightly forward so she was looking right at him.
"I was just pointing out…" he continued.
Olivia cut him off. "That's the problem Elliot." She snapped. "Do you honestly think that I haven't thought these things through? That I don't understand the potential risks? That things have changed? Of course I do! Like you said, it's the main reason I didn't go back into police work before." She ran a hand through her hair. "But I thought now, we're back together. I had someone to support me. I thought that would give me options I didn't have before." She shook her head and looked down at her hands again. "I guess I was wrong."
"Of course I know you thought of those things. But I don't get to voice my opinion?"
"It sounded less like an opinion and more like an edict." She looked up at him.
"That's not true."
"I think it is." She said. "If I told you I wanted to go back to SVU, can you honestly sit there and say that you'd be OK with it?"
Elliot leaned back and let out a heavy sigh. "If you really want to go back, I'll back you." He sat, his eyes glued to her, waiting for a response. He meant what he said. If she was absolutely set on it, he wouldn't be happy about it, but he wouldn't stand in her way.
Olivia pressed her lips together. "I'm not going back to SVU."
"What?" Elliot let out a sound of exasperation. "Then why the hell are we fighting about it?" Now he was pissed. "What's the point?"
Olivia shook her head, disappointed that he didn't understand what she was trying to say. "The point is that I should be able to rely on you to support my decisions. That you should have faith in me. Trust me. You used to." She gave him a wry smile. "You used to trust me with your life, and now, for some reason, you feel like I can't even manage my own."
"Let me get this straight. I told you I wasn't happy about you going back to SVU, and suddenly I don't trust you?"
Olivia looked down at her hands. She could hear the frustration in his voice, but she was doing her best to make him understand. "It's not just the job. I feel like ever since I've moved back, you've been hovering, questioning my decisions. I went out with Casey a few weeks ago, and you practically ordered me home. You're watching every bite I eat; I feel like you're keeping a log somewhere. And you've been suggesting that I don't need to rush back to work. That there's no rush." She had been thinking about it a lot lately, and things had been piling up that made her think that he
"So I'm worried about your health and that makes me a bad guy?"
"No." she said vehemently. "No. You're not a bad guy. You're a good man. A fierce protector. Loyal to those you love." She pressed on, tears threatening her lower lashes. "We're partners Elliot. That's meant so many things over the years. And now, it means more than ever. But partnership also means that we're equals…that we share our life, make decisions together, support each other." She looked down at her hand, and started to slide her ring down her finger. "But I think you're used to a certain lifestyle. A wife at home, watching the kids…making dinner. That's not me…"
Elliot stood up quickly as he watched her hold her engagement ring in her hand. "What are you doing?" he asked.
She looked up at him. "Marrying you shouldn't mean I have to lose myself." She hadn't intended to take off her ring when this whole conversation started, but now she was thinking that maybe they had rushed their engagement. They'd barely been back together for four months, and even though they'd known each other a long time, things change. People change.
He moved over to where she was sitting and pushed her food over roughly, sitting on the coffee table across from her. He wrapped his hands around hers, trapping her ring inside of her hand. "Don't." he said, desperation in his voice.
She looked up at him. She waited for him to tell her she was overreacting…that it was the hormones talking.
"I don't want that." He said. "I want to marry the woman I fell in love with." He looked at her earnestly, desperate to get her to understand. "I don't want you to change." He squeezed her hands. "I know I can be overbearing sometimes but it's just because…so help me God Olivia. The thought of something happening to you is more than I can bear." His voice caught. Even thinking of life without her now caused a sharp ache. "I didn't mean to make you feel like you're somehow something less than what you were before. You're all I've ever wanted. For as long as I can remember." He swallowed hard. "You think I don't trust you with your own life or mine anymore, but the truth is you hold both of our lives in your hands. Please…please put that ring back on your finger."
