AN: This is the tropiest trope to exist! I'm pretty sure this concept has been done already? If not, it should have been!

Notes: Inspired by Olivia's UC hooker outfit in Strain S7, E5 (and the sad fact that Elliot was AWOL for it).

Set Season 10.


THE COVER, PART 1


It's an unseasonably warm evening in April and the dress she is wearing is causing her to perspire. Maybe it's not the dress, maybe it's her nerves – or the rapid fire of emotions that are currently pulverising her chest.

It's only been a few minutes since they had settled into the sedan and Elliot's stare had already moved off the windscreen and landed unwaveringly on her profile. She doesn't meet his gaze, instead she focuses on the couple crossing the street and for a minute the sound of their laughter is a welcome distraction from the task at hand.

This isn't new - sitting next to her partner while they're in the midst of an undercover operation but what is new is their cover – their prospective plan. She doesn't know how they'd settled on this, how it went from spit balling ideas in the bullpen to actualised into form.

How did Cragen agree to this?

How did they?

She knows Elliot's uncomfortable with it too, they had looked at each other wordlessly from across their desks when it was first suggested, neither of them willing to admit it would be pushing the boundaries of their partnership – so neither of them did.

She wishes in that moment she hadn't been so damn stubborn.

Why couldn't she have just forfeited this one and let him have this round? Not one part of this pre game anxiety was worth it - she knows that now, particularly the underwear she had to sport that rode so high up it bordered on intolerable.

Plus her dress was short, way too short – she'd seen his eyes drop down to her legs when she'd first slipped into her seat. He hadn't meant for it but she'd caught the millisecond of infraction. She couldn't blame him really, even she thought the dress length was laughable.

Damn it was quiet in here.

He still hasn't said a word. Maybe if someone spoke the tension between them would ease up slightly but what could they say?

'It's not too late.'

That's what he'd said to her last night in the locker-room but she knows what he was doing, he was calling her bluff - pressing her to be the one to call it off, only she let her stubborn ego overtake.

'I'm fine with it El.' She feigned indifference. 'If you are.'

He had just stared at her then as she closed her locker with a quiet click. He'd appeared pissed at her response, but he didn't press her on it, and now here they were.

Besides, this was just another uncomfortable aspect of their job right? They'd had risky covers before - ones that put their lives on the line, but this time she couldn't shake the feeling that this was them on the line.

Their partnership - as it stood.

This would change it irreversibly.

She knows that.

Or at the very least it would change for her.

She hears him clear his throat and she thinks for a second he has something to say to her, maybe he's actually going to call this off at the eleventh hour and put an end to this insanity.

God she prays that he does.

She glances over at him expectedly, hoping to catch some element of surrender in his eyes but he is simply staring ahead, most likely into the abyss of their future.

He looks just as shit scared as she feels.


It's exactly 17 minutes later when the crackle of the radio interrupts their silence.

"Riley's been spotted, he's about 4 blocks away," Fin's voice interjects through the quiet sedan. "You've got a couple of minutes till showtime."

Her heart pounds as a familiar pang of anxiety twists in her stomach.

Showtime.

She should be grateful that Riley's has showed up, it means this would soon be over - that they could all go home, but instead her stomach muscles contract like she's about to take a dive off the high board.

He clears his throat again, maybe he has a tickle, or maybe he's wondering why the hell she isn't moving yet. She knows it's up to her to start this - this is all on her, she has to kick this into gear otherwise they're going to completely miss their mark.

"3 blocks Liv." Fin's voice crackles back into life and he's singled her out now because they have eyes on her, and that's another story – they're being watched this entire time, as if that wasn't even more fucked up than it already was.

She shuffles forward in her seat, the thin dress hiking up her thighs as she shakes the coat down her arms, praying she will get through this without crumbling.

It's just a cover.

A cover.

An act.

One moment in time.

It will all be over soon.

Her cleavage is now at full attention - because it has to be, because this needs to be obvious as hell to capture Riley's attention. She feels the warm air clam her exposed skin and when she glances over at him she knows all he can see is fire engine red and hot pink lace.

A clashing combination that can only scream call girl.

Because that's what she is tonight.

Elliot's call girl.

And in about 30 seconds it would appear that it was 'showtime'.

TBC


The good news is part 2 is already written and will be posted within 72 hours!

The bad news is part 3 isn't written and will probably take years lol.

And one day eventually I'll finish The Roof, Part 3 (just for you Jac).

Thanks for reading!

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