A/N:As long as I got you by my side, I know what I wanna do in this life (Soldier - James TW)

DISCLAIMER: SVU and all related plot/characters originally belong to Dick Wolf. This story is allllllllllllllll mine. © TStabler

"You sure you're okay?" His voice is cool, though his nerves are shot. He twists the glass in his hand, swirling the ice and the last sip of deep brown liquor at the bottom. From his vantage point on the couch, he stares at her, wondering what the hell is happening outside, because she's focused on something beyond the window. "Babe?"

"Perfect," she says. She knows he doesn't buy it.

He smirks as he stands up. He drops the glass onto the new marble and brass coffee table and he steps over to her, instantly remembering the night he told her...really told her how in love with her he is, and he wraps his arms around her and rests his head on her shoulder. "What is so interesting out here?"

She shrugs, it makes her cheek brush against his. "We aren't that far away from my old place...and still it's so much quieter here. No sirens, no yelling, no loud neighbors…"

"No," he says, "See, I told you, it's exactly like…"

"I know," she says as her eyes close. She turns into him, nuzzles him a bit. "That's what I was thinking. How everything is…"

"You're thinking about Cragen," he tells her, because he knows, and he shakes his head. "So am I. But I'm also thinking about how fucking wrong he was, how he could even think you would give a guy like Porter the fucking time of day is just…" he scoffs and rolls his eyes, squeezes her a little tighter. "What kind of detective is he, really?"

She chuckles and sinks into him.

"Success," he gasps, loving the way her laughter hits his ears. His eyes trail down her body, over the long sleeved black shirt, down to her light blue sweatpants. He licks his lips, remembers watching her change into them, knows there is nothing between the cotton and her bare skin. "Look, we know he isn't gonna fire us, or split us up, he already feels guilty as…"

"What he said…" she cuts him off, and then her thoughts momentarily drift to her own mother, the reasons she is so quick to believe every relationship she has is doomed to fail. "What I said…" she scrapes her teeth over her lower lip and drags her nails down his chest, their edges catch on the cotton of his tee shirt. "I've always taken him at his word, trusted everything the man said, so when he...he put the pieces together and it made sense. This all happened after we almost got blown up, after you found out Kathy was running around on you, after…"

"After we spent a few weeks together and found out what love really is," he interjects. "That's what started this, not some trauma induced rebound."

She smiles but it's a hesitant one, she looks downward, fingers the hem of his shirt nervously. "Hearing him say it...brought up every doubt I have been trying so hard to ignore, every fear I have been fighting for months... and knowing he had a hand in helping Porter fuck with us, El, it makes me doubt everything I thought I knew about him. Not you. You're the only person…"

"Shh," he quiets her as he kisses her, smirking against her lips.

She kisses him back, but then pushes him away softly. "We never talked about it," she whispers. "What happened in Syracuse. And what didn't. What would have...what almost happened." She plays with him, nips at his lips as he tries to kiss her again, brushes her lips over his as he teases her. "We got back and then...it took over two weeks thus to even acknowledge…"

"Talking about it would've hurt," he whispers back to her, finally letting his lips press into hers. "Thinking about it fucking hurt. Because I...well, you know…"

"That first time...that first party, when we infiltrated Calderone's club," she interrupts, blinking. "I know he was watching us, I know you were only giving him what he wanted but I swear I was..."

"That's not what happened. I kissed you because I wanted to kiss you," he assures her. "Him watching was a bonus. You looked so fucking gorgeous in that red dress, your hair was curly and the way you were looking at me all night...shit, we were so far away from anyone who would've possibly made me feel guilty for it. I admitted to myself, long ago, how I felt about you…and that night, I guess, I had to do something about it." He grins at her and moves closer to her. "You didn't stop me, you kissed me, too. You meant it, baby, I felt how much you…"

Her lips stop his words. She nods as she kisses him, her hands wrap around his head and her fingers dig into his scalp. "I meant it," she breathes. She pulls him closer as her body turns and she moans when he presses her into the stone wall behind her. "I knew…" she pants, her eyes still closed. "The whole time I knew...it wasn't just the job."

He shakes his head and brushes his nose against hers. "The second party...I knew we were taking things further than we needed to, but damn, I needed to feel you...taste you…" he kisses her and slips his hands into her sweatpants. "I had no intention of coming home and leaving it all behind, you know that, now." He slams his mouth over hers again, working his fingers between her thighs, finding home. He chuckles with pride as he feels her body give into him, her back arching and her head dropping back into the wall. "Just like I need to feel you now." He kisses her. "Always." He bites at her chin. "Forever."

She grips his shoulders tighter as he pushes another finger into her. "That long?"

"Longer," he promises. He bites her neck and suckles her pulse, twists his fingers and rolls his wrist. "Remember...the night we took him down?" he asks, breathless. He marvels at the purpling skin of her neck, he can see the throb of her heartbeat beneath it.

"Yes," she tells him, both an answer to his question and a response to his ministrations. She's trying to control her volume and her breathing, the kids are in the house, and she rocks her hips into his hand.

"We knew he was watching us," he tells her, his voice low and breathy, in her ear. His left hand pulls at his white tee as his left drills into her. "Knew he had eyes through the window, waiting, and I…" he licks the conch of her ear, pants into it and feels her shiver. "I was so fucking terrified that...something would happen…" he moves and looks into her eyes. "If he didn't barge in on us when he did...I mean, we were ready for him, but he came in too soon," he stops moving his hand, he stares at her. He takes a single deep breath. "I wouldn't have stopped, baby. I would have...I wanted to…" he chokes on the memory. "Fuck, I needed to make love to you that night. I needed to tell you, show you, how much I loved you...just in case we…"

"We didn't," she stops him, kisses him, bucks her hips to tell him he needs to move again. "We're here, and…" she nods at him. "I know now." She cups his face and searches his eyes. "I know."

He slams his mouth over hers with a guttural but muffled moan of her name, his right hand shoves her pants over hips as his own sweats drop to the floor at his feet. "I don't think you do," he tells her, and he smirks when her eyes fall, he knows she's watching him stroking his cock. He moves closer to her, lets himself tease her entrance as he thumbs her clit, and he whispers. "You have no fucking idea how much I love you, how long I've been in love with you…what the fuck you mean to me." He pulls his fingers out of her and pushes the tip of his dick inside of her, his hands smooth down to hold the back of her thighs, and he drops his head to hers. "Years," he tells her. "It's never been lust...though, I mean, yeah...I've always wanted to fuck the shut out of you," he laughs. He kisses her nose and says, "But I have been so fucking desperately in love with you…"

"For four years." She breathes, and her eyes widen when he pushes further, deeper, filling her. Her ankles link behind him as he hikes her up around his waist and sinks deeper into her. She closes her eyes and presses her lips together, scratching at the nape of his neck as he moves slowly. She doesn't know how any of this happened but she's not stopping it any time soon. Quite the opposite. She's counting down the hours until they get to make their whirlwind of a spontaneous relationship a permanent partnership, on and off the field.

"Every case, every conversation, every cold beer at Harry's, every sleepless night in the cribs," he lists as he slowly thrusts. "Every single time we went under as a couple, it was never pretend." He kisses her and grunts as he moves his body faster, trying to physically convince her that he's serious. Their kiss is fire and frenzy and for a split second he wonders what his mother would think, what hers would, and he chuckles.

"Elliot," she whimpers, feeling her body begin to burn and tighten, far too soon and not soon enough. She hears her phone ring and she whines, suddenly regretting sending her new number to the people at work who needed it. She grimaces as he starts to slam into her harder and faster, a face to the finish.

He needs to make her cum before he does, he needs to cum before the phone stops ringing. His eyes roll when she clenched around him and he whispers, "I love you," before he feels her explode. He can feel her quaking between his body and the wall, and when she tells him what he needs to hear, he fires into her with a heat that scares him.

She kisses him hard in an attempt to stifle the cry of his name that's ripping out of her throat.

He stays inside of her, his grip stable as he carries her toward the coffee table. He grabs their angry phones and sits her on the back of the couch as he answers his call and hands her phone to her. "Stabler," he breathes, his respite from his harsh world all too brief. "What? Slow down. Where are you?"

"We're on the way," she says, and she hangs up abruptly, kisses Elliot, and says, "Are you gonna be…"

"I'll be fine," he smiles and kisses her forehead, he thrusts once to prove his point, and he kisses her nose and then her lips and then her chin. "If it was you…" he shakes his head, unable to even voice the rest of the thought. "I love you."

She kisses him again and as he pulls out of her she hops off the sofa. She follows him into the bedroom, into their walk-in closet. They choose matching suits and dress in silence, pulling at and buttoning each other, and she can't help thinking that this is another move in the game they're unwilling to play.

"El?" She looks at him, raises an eyebrow.

He licks his lips and nods, silently agreeing with the thought he knows is in her head. "I know," he says. "We just have to prove it." He kisses her again as he adjusts his gun at his hip, and he flattens his smile.

He knows they're already two steps ahead.

A/N: What happened?