A/N: Learning from the tears and the mistakes, We're not perfect but we've come such a long way (Soldier - James TW)
DISCLAIMER: SVU and all related plot/characters originally belong to Dick Wolf. This story is allllllllllllllll mine. © TStabler
"What time is it?" She's mumbling with her eyes closed, the heels of her hands rubbing into the sockets. She takes a tired breath and she stifles a moan; her shirt smells like him and it's only reminding her how desperately she needs him, and how she's still not going to be able to have him for a while, yet.
"You're wearing a watch," Elliot replies through a yawn. He's aware that it comes out with more bitterness than he means, but he's a cranky son of a bitch at the moment.
She scoffs, reacting to his pissy attitude but not taking it personally. "Yeah, but my vision is so blurry I can't read it." She crosses her arms and shifts in her seat, brings one hand up to cover her mouth. It's his yawn that triggers hers.
He makes the mistake of looking at her, and because her blazer is off and draped over her chair, her arms are pushing up her perfect breasts and her entire body is straining against her shirt. His dick twitches and he moans softly. "Christ," he spits, dragging his hand down his face. He scratches at his chin; he tells himself he needs to shave. He knows that when his stubble gets to this point, he can't even kiss her without giving her the kind of goosebumps that usually come with dentist drills.
Not that he'll be able to kiss her anytime soon.
"You gonna answer me?" She tilts her head and watches his eyes focus as he snaps back to reality. The way his pupils dilate when he gazes in her direction stuns her; it's the kind of expression she's only seen in addicts and maniacs, and she knows exactly what's causing it because it's the same fucking thing that she's been craving for hours now. "El?" She tries to sound less wanton but her exhaustion mixes with her frustrated lust without her consent.
He narrows his eyes and smirks at her, letting her know he's aware that she wants the same thing he does. "It's ten to one," he tells her. "In the morning. Son of a bitch kept us here all damned night, when we could have gone home and got a few hours of actual sleep." He slams a drawer shut, forgetting why he's opened it in the first place. "Fucking governer asks for discretion and we have to wait until his bastard brother voluntarily comes down here? Waiting a few blocks away wouldn't have made a difference. It's a bullshit call, one that Cragen could've shot down, but since he'd rather have us in his direct line of sight for the rest of our fucking lives…" he shrugs and waves a dismissive hand, leans back in his chair, and says, "He must've forgotten that there are eight beds ten feet away, and an entire floor of showers, stalls, and lockers that, uh, serve more than one purpose." He tugs on his tie and winks at her.
She blushes slightly. It's been long enough, but she's still throbbing from the way he absolutely ravaged her in the bunker the minute he had the chance, as soon as Cragen told them to take a break, take a nap, he'd made good on his word. He made silent, deep love to her until she couldn't move. She flutters her eyes trying to dispel the memory that's making her ache. "Once," she whispers. "Never again." She's made him promise to keep it out of work, but it seems to be the only promise he can't keep. She's about to say something else, but Cragen's door opens, and he heads right for them with his eyes trained on her alone. "What?" she asks.
Cragen hands her a sticky note, consciously avoiding Elliot's infuriated gaze. "He's here," he says. "Waiting for you downstairs, you need to do this by the book, but…" he sighs. "Handle it delicately, don't cuff him, say please and thank you, this could blow up in your face if…"
"I know how to do my job," she barks at him, ripping the purple square of paper out of his hand. She looks at Elliot and stands, grabs her blazer and her jacket, and says, "For the love of God, control your temper." She gives him a soft but meaningful look, because she knows he's already halfway to Hulk and the last thing he needs is a red strike for punching the governor's brother.
"I will if he does," Elliot cracks as he rises. "We got his DNA, prints, and the girl's statement. This should be a lot easier than it's been," he pauses and sends a challenging glare toward Cragen as he pulls on his long trench. "Someone would rather play Political Poker a chip at a time than go all in, apparently."
"Our hands were tied, here, this wasn't my call!" Cragen points a finger and grits his teeth. "I do take orders from other people, Stabler! Not everything I do is a personal attack against you!"
"No, just everything you've done in the last nine months!" He shakes his head and cringes slightly. "We haven't slept for more than an hour at a time, if you can call rolling around on those Rock of Gibraltar bunks fucking sleeping! Ya know, we haven't been home in days, we haven't seen the kids. We got this asshole dead to rights almost twelve hours ago, could've taken him down and been home in time for dinner," he realizes he's getting louder, but he doesn't really give a shit. "You could have sent us to get him as soon as the lab got a hit, but the brass wagged a stick at you, you whimpered like a kicked puppy and kowtowed to the governor because God forbid we interrupt his fundraising banquet to arrest his psycho brother! Oh, the horror that would have been!"
"Watch it, Stabler!" Cragen fumes, nostrils flaring.
Elliot's done watching it, though, and he lowers his voice as he leans into his captain. "You know I'm right. Where's the guy that would tell us to arrest our own kids if it needed to be done? You've had us break up weddings, I arrested a guy at his mother's funeral at your command! Man, you lost your bite, now you're just towing the company line like the spineless cops you used to berate for being cowards. Tell me, before we actually bring this motherfucker up here, are we charging him? Or are we having tea and crumpets and telling him he was a naughty boy, slapping him on the wrist and asking him nicely not to do it again? Because I became a cop to defend and protect, to put the sick fucks in this city in cages no matter who the hell they are or who they're related to!" He shakes his head and pulls the cuffs of his black jacket down further. "I've always had this image in my head of the kind of cop I'm aiming to be, the kind of person I would kill to become. I had the perfect idolized example, and Cap, up until a week ago, it was you."
Cragen's eyes lose their luster as he expels the breath he'd been holding. Guilt eats away at his annoyance, his pride buries itself under the weight of his callousness. "And...now?"
Elliot chuckles almost sadly but his smile's truth is revealed when he says, "Now? Shit, it's Liv." He eyes her, then, and when he looks back at Cragen he says, "Strength, integrity, passion, drive, commitment...she inspires me with every single breath she takes, in so many fucking ways. She would never let anything or anyone get in the way of what she wants or has to do. She's pure justice, no matter what or who it affects."
"Except you, right?" Cragen knows his words are harsh and he hates that he has actually said them out loud.
"Including me," Elliot whispers. "God, especially me! Cap, she'd be the first one to come for me if I ever…" he makes a grotesquely disgusted face. "She'd be so fucking angry and upset, she'd arrest me herself, then she'd kill me. It would destroy her, but she wouldn't have a choice. Anything she'd felt for me would go up in smoke if I became one of the monsters we swore to slay, she'd put my ass in a sling and wouldn't feel the least bit sorry about it." He flinches slightly at the look Cragen is giving him. "Never gonna happen. You know that."
Cragen is silent, a doubt in his eyes that he can't hide, and he knows Elliot sees it.
"Oh, please," Elliot spits. "Any laws I bend or break, there's a damn good reason, and it's all fucking forgivable. I'd never hurt anyone who doesn't fucking deserve it, and I will never fucking hurt my wife or my kids." He shakes his head and looks at Olivia again. "Let's do this. I wanna go the hell home."
She nods, trying to come off as though she hasn't heard every word he's said. She looks down at the note in her hand for the first time and she balks. "Wait a minute. You're kidding," she looks up, "This is a joke, right? It has to be."
Cragen shakes his head and looks at her dejected and defeated. "I wish it was. That's why I said...do this...carefully. He doesn't need any ammunition." He turns and walks toward his office.
Elliot yawns again, and they move in extreme synchronization. "What?" he asks once they're out in the hallway.
She swallows and hands him the purple piece of paper. "He's here with his lawyer, and it's…"
"Olsen," he reads. "Son of a bitch." He scoffs and says, "Well, we're gonna have to fight fire with fire, then."
She hits the button on the wall, and for a moment she considers taking the stairs. The elevator still hasn't earned back her trust, and she's afraid that she'll fall asleep standing up if she stays still for too long. "We can't ask Trevor to come back from The Dark Side for this," she jokes, but it's the only possibility that seems like a solution because Langan is the only lawyer she knows who's brilliant enough to outwit and outplay James Olsen.
Elliot chuckles and gives her a light and playful shove through the opening metal doors. "We make a call, request Cutter," he tells her, and when her eyes widen and narrow he knows she's intrigued by the idea. "Cragen may suddenly enjoy playing by the rules, but we never have, and I don't intend to start now. Not on this one."
She pulls out her cell phone and dials a number she's only used once before, amazed she remembers it. "We're waking him up for this," she reminds Elliot.
"Good," he nods. He grins. "Maybe it'll wake Cragen up, too"
A/N: What happens when they finally get home? Heh.
