A/N: "I will never become you. The only time I will raise a hand to my son is to give him the highest of fives. The only time I will grab my child is to hug them tight. I will not become you. " Paul Forthern, Age 13. Untitled Poem

DISCLAIMER: Credit for inspiration and original creation goes to Dick Wolf. This version of the characters, events, and written story belongs to me. ::Evil laugh::

"This is weird," Olivia looked over her shoulder as she folded her arms, covering the logo on her tee shirt. She looked around the room, it's blank walls and bare furniture made her slightly uncomfortable. It reminded her of her childhood bedroom, when she lived with her mother, before she ran to Elliot. She choked down the memory and the nerves, and looked back at Elliot again. "You don't think this is weird?"

Elliot dropped a few pairs of shoes into the bottom of the closet as he laughed. He turned and took a step toward her and bent his head, kissing her. "Why would I think this is weird? We've been sharing a bed for almost a year." He laughed and swooped her hair behind her ears.

Rolling her eyes, she said, "Well, yeah. But we didn't have a choice. This place has more bedrooms, and your folks just decided we…"

He kissed her again, whispering softly, "Because they know we would just end up in each other's rooms anyway." He toyed with the hem of her shirt. "They know I already swore never to let you out of my sight, and they know that...well, they know we aren't having sex but they're not idiots. They probably figure if it's gonna happen, they'd rather it be here, safe, home, with their permission...than have us sneaking around, lying, and getting into trouble over it." He kissed her again, and he lowered his voice to tell her, "Besides, I don't think I could sleep without you, now."

"Yeah." She laughed and kissed him once. "Ditto, Stabler." She shot him a wink and then looked around the room. "I can't believe we don't live down the block from Cassidy anymore." She shook her head and shrugged. "Not that I care, I mean he was kind of an asshole, but…"

"Did Olivia Benson just say a foul word?" He gasped dramatically and clutched both of his hands over his heart, feigning severe shock.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm apparently spending too much time with Elliot Stabler, he has the vocabulary of an Italian mobster." She chuckled when he looked at her with minor offense on his face.

He raised one eyebrow at her. "You're damn lucky I love you." He kissed her forehead and heard her laugh again, his heart swelling at the sound. "It's noisy here." He jutted his thumb toward the open window.

"But beautiful," she wrapped her arms around him, sticking her thumbs through the belt loops of his jeans. Together, they stared out of their twelfth story window, the tops of some buildings in clear view while others were miles above them. Yellow taxis, buses, and cars looked like Hot Wheels toys on a playmat down below, people walking seemed as small as ants.

The smells filtering in through the window ranged from deliciously decadent to nauseating and when they mixed, it made them hold their breath. Sirens, shouting, loudly blaring music, and something that sounded like fireworks formed an orchestra of noises that filled their room. "It's nothing like home," she said to him, wrapping him tighter in her arms.

"This is home, now," he told her. "We'll get used to it, but like I said to you when my dad told us we had to move," he kissed her sweetly, "As long as I'm with you, I'm home." He swayed with her, then, rocking her back and forth in time with the classic rock power ballad they heard from somewhere outside. "You said the same thing to me," he reminded her. "You...you meant it, right?"

She smiled and nodded slowly, her hands crept around his neck as the kiss deepened and he pulled her toward the bed. He shoved aside some unpacked boxes and whispered, "What's really bugging you?"

She sighed. It scared her how well he knew her. "The whole reason we're here, why we had to move. How your dad said it's only temporary and we'll probably have to go back to Queens just as soon as we get used to things here." She flopped her head forward against his chest. "Your dad...Cragen and your father really pissed this guy off, and I'm just…"

"It's part of the job," he interrupted. "You know that, you want to live this life, eventually...which is the only reason my dad even told us the truth." He cleared his throat and said, "They're safe. They're gonna be okay, and so are we." He kissed her again. "You believe me, right? I promised you a long time ago, we promised each other…"

"I'm never gonna let anyone hurt you," she whispered to him.

He nodded and kissed her once more, deeper, curling himself around her. The unpacked boxes continued to be ignored. She leaned back when he pressed into her, light gasps escaping as his hands explored the land under her shirt.

He felt her grip tighten, her nails curl into his shoulders, the moment his fingertips grazed her nipples. It was as far as they've gone, teasing above the waist, but there was so much they longed to experience for and with each other. This was the summer they decided to see what all the fuss was about, to find out why so many of their less moral classmates bragged and boasted, but ever since the old house in Queens became the target of an ex-con's wrath, they've been robbed of time and opportunities.

"El," she breathed, her fingers digging into his back as he grew bolder and rolled her nipples between his fingers. "Elliot," she looked up into his eyes.

Something struck him, something in her eyes, and his fifteen year old body became one giant heartbeat, he felt it pulsing in every muscle, every joint, ever nerve. "I love you," he told her. It scared him how much he meant it, how deeply he understood what love truly was.

"I love you," she whispered back to him, and her hands skated down his back and pulled at the fabric of his shirt.

He moved allowing her to pull his shirt off completely, and he shivered a bit as the reality of their current situation fell on his bare shoulders. He swallowed a lump in his throat, lowered himself to her again, and picked away the bits of clothing separating them, keeping them from making a move they weren't entirely convinced it was okay to make.

He jerked backward, his eyes darting from Olivia to the bedroom door. He waited, holding his breath, and he sighed softly after he realized no one was there. No one was going to stop them. He looked back down at her, smiled again, and he said, "I'm not going to…"

"I know," she said, reaching for him. "Not that, not yet, but I…"

His lips were on hers, his hands found their way into parts of her body he'd only before dreamt about, and he silently said every prayer he knew to give him strength, protect them both from any painful consequences their actions would bring, and to say thank you to God for giving him so many incredible gifts in the form of one sweet angel. His angel. His Olivia.

A/N: What did Joe and Cragen really do!? And how does Elliot find out? Oh, and what...just happened?