A/N: Nothing guarantees more the erosion of character than getting something for nothing.- Dennis Prager.
Clarity- Maureen: 20, Kathleen: 15, Twins: 11
DISCLAIMER: SVU and all related plot/characters originally belong to Dick Wolf. This story, words, and dialogue are mine. © TStabler
He's been hungover before, but never like this. Never this powerful. He's had cravings before, but not for what he's craving right now. Never this extreme. He'd always assumed the headaches after a night of drinking were his body's way of punishing him. He realizes now they'd been caused by tension, one of the side effects of his hangovers is an intense lustful need and he'd never wanted to give in to it when he was married. Now, he's feeding it, nurturing it, egging it on.
He chuckles when he hears her moan, watches her head roll slightly to the side. "Come on, sleepyhead," he mumbles, and he drags his tongue through her wet folds again. He spreads her wider with two of his fingers, marveling at the reddish tinge to her sensitive skin, evidence of a night well spent, a few rounds of rough sex that surely woke her neighbors and annoyed her landlord. "Liv," he sings, working his tongue through her, deeper, into her.
"Good fucking morning," she moans, her back curls and her left hand meets the back of his head. She blinks her eyes open and stares down at him, the vision of his head between her legs, the fire in his eyes, is enough to make her cum on its own, but her body is still reeling from their wild night, and she's trying to fight the pain to relish in the pleasure.
It's quiet except for the wet sounds his mouth makes against her heated flesh, their loud gasping breaths, their powerful heartbeats. He won't blink, not until he watches her cum, it's his favorite thing in the world. Fucking incredible. A moan erupts, he makes sure she feels it, and he growls when her hips rise and bucks her pussy against his working mouth. He presses down on her navel with one hand, holding her still, and he flicks his tongue over her clit rapidly until he hears her keening whimpers. "Cum," he demands softly, and then gently wraps his lips around the bundle of nerves and sucks until she twists the sheets, arches her back, and gives him what he wants.
She rakes her nails up and down his scalp as she cums, her head rocks slowly from side to side against her pillow as she undulates and rolls in waves, the electric charge shooting up her spine and piercing every nerve she has.
He grins smugly as he pulls away from her and licks his lips while he crawls up her form. He looks down at her, watching her panting, parted lips move, and he kisses her slowly, deeply. "Better than coffee," he whispers with a wink, and he hears her chuckle. He stretches as he drags himself off the bed and to his feet, and one hand curls behind his neck as the other buckles over his stomach. "Jesus, I am...not okay," he shakes his head fast and bubbles his lips.
She hides the grin on her face behind a hand, pretending to yawn, and she says, "You got a little crazy last night," she tells him. "We both did."
"How often, uh, do you plan on us doing that?" He scratches his head and grabs her hand, leading her into her bathroom.
She shakes her head as she reaches for her toothbrush, and it hits her that they're both completely naked, completely comfortable. She smiles slightly and grabs for the tube of toothpaste. "Not often, at all," she tells him. "I'm not a drinker, I told you that. Last night was...a much-needed break from reality." She catches his eyes in the mirror. "For both of us," she says, and she feels his hands wrap around her hips.
As she brushes her teeth, his eyes never leave hers in the reflection, his hands never let go of her, and he knows when his headache goes away he's going to have to tell her that her mother's drinking again, and he prays she won't hate him for it.
By the time they walk through the sqaudroom doors, he's complained about his headache six times, pulled over twice because he felt like he'd be sick, bought and drank four cups of coffee, and audibly lamented the fact that his sunglasses weren't working. In between, he'd slipped lewd comments and suggestive flirts across the car, which did nothing to alleviate his hangover and far too much to set Olivia's tension levels higher. Wicked man. She moves instantly toward the coffee pot, grabs one of his mugs, and pours a cup for him, leaving it black. It isn't until she sets it down on his desk in front of him that she notices the beautiful, chocolate-skinned woman staring at her, a look of disdain in her eyes. "Hi, Kar," she says, nodding, her lip caught between her teeth.
Karen Smythe glares at her and takes one step forward, the thick soles of her boots land against the tiles with heavy, foreboding plops. "Am I supposed to congratulate you?"
Olivia holds her breath, her eyes widen slightly. She darts her eyes toward Elliot, still wearing his dark shades, then looks at Jeffries as if asking for backup. She looks toward Karen again and opens her mouth, but her ex-partner stops her.
"You know how long I've been in this uniform?" Karen hisses lowly. "Waiting for the perfect person to hand my ride off to so I could finally move up?" She chuckles and says, "Look at you. That suit...those shoes...you just jumped the line, didn't you?" She stiffens and looks around. "You'd think a detective bureau would be less of a slum." She scoffs and then looks back at Olivia. "Anyway, I wanted to let you know that it doesn't matter. Our patrol is out of my hands now, too." Her almost hateful smirk turns into a genuine smile and she says, "They're promoting me to Sergeant!"
With a hand over her heart, Olivia finally takes a breath, hoping no one has noticed she'd been turning purple. "You...you're not really mad…" she chokes. "Jesus, Karen!" she yells and swats at her.
"I had to give you hell for ditching me, Benson," Karen states, and then moves to hug Olivia. "I really am proud of you, Detective, you…" she sniffles and wipes her eyes as she pulls away from the younger woman. "I knew you'd be special." She inhales and then says, "The last time we talked...I'm sorry for taking my frustrations out on you. You left me there alone and they...they were relentless. I didn't mean to…"
"It's fine," Olivia stops her, and she offers a smile. "Sergeant, that's incredible. You're gonna kick their asses."
"I'm hoping," Karen laughs. She looks around again and makes a face. "I was serious about this place being a hovel. Broken windows, chipping walls, peeling paint, I'm worried about leaving you here."
"We're the last of the budgetary priorities," Cragen intrudes, making his presence known. "If you don't mind, Sarge, I need to put our Detective to work." He bypasses Karen and hands Olivia a pink slip of paper. "Take Jeffries," he says, and he turns before he can see the look of annoyed panic on her face. "Top Gun," he jokes, pointing to the glasses, "I got a call from Lenny Briscoe, says he needs to see you as soon as possible, that's now." He looks around at his unit, no one is moving. "Go! Now!"
"Oy, don't yell," Elliot mumbles, and he burps, his stomach rumbles, and as he stands he grabs Olivia's arm. He leans over, peers over his sunglasses, and whispers, "Five cups of coffee and I can still taste you." He licks his lips, shakes his head, and growls at her before letting her go and heading out to see what Briscoe has for him; he knows it's about Olivia's mother.
Olivia's heart is hammering in her chest now, his words striking more than one nerve. Damn him. She tugs lightly on the collar of her shirt and glances at Karen, waves to her, then nods at Jefferies. When they get out into the hall, she shoves her hands in her pockets. "You wanna drive?"
"I have to. Do you even have a license?" Jeffries jokes. She holds up both hands. "Kidding, kidding." She pushes the call button for the elevator and says, "I'll drive, but where are we going?"
"Gateway, some insurance company uptown," Olivia says, then she licks her lips. "The, uh, CEO was found in her office...not gonna be pretty."
"Ouch, no wonder Cragen pulled Stabler off of this one," Jeffries says, and she fishes the keys to a green sedan out of her pocket. "That's where Kathy works."
"Kathy?" Olivia feels her heart drop into her stomach. This is the last thing she needs, and something she doesn't have any way out of now. Fuck. "Wonderful."
"Speaking of Stabler," Monique twirls the keyring around her finger and eyes Olivia slyly, "What's his deal this morning? Pale, shaky, those sunglasses? Looks like a vampire."
Olivia grins as her hand shoots up to her neck. His teethmarks are hiding under her collar, and if she didn't know any better, she'd agree. "No idea, I don't follow him home, ya know."
Jeffries nods and then clears her throat. When the metal doors open, she steps off first and says, "Has he, uh, said anything about...um, I just assumed he might have told you that I'm…"
"He hasn't really told me anything about you," Olivia interrupts, "Other than you're a lot nicer to other people than you have been to me." She raises one eyebrow as she flips out her hands, making her burgundy blazer billow as they walk through the lobby.
Monique winces. "Yeah, I haven't been the best member of the welcoming committee, but…" she smiles and tosses her tightly curled hair over her shoulder. "If I buy you a cup of coffee, would it help earn back some brownie points?"
Olivia's eyes flicker and she smiles back at the older woman. "With sprinkles." She nods and the two share a laugh and head into the New York morning, leaving what Monique wanted to tell her back in the lobby.
After meeting Briscoe and following his lead, Elliot's head is spinning for a whole new reason. The woman he'd spent the last two hours tracking down and talking to gave him a lot to think about, the possibility of Olivia having a half-brother is weighing on him as he stares at the two files in his hands. He sighs once, the stale air of the car smells like old coffee and gym socks, it makes his already weak stomach turn. He blinks and rubs his eyes, then slips his sunglasses back on before flipping the folders closed.
When he opens the door, he smiles. His mother's voice ringing in his ears, her laughter when he told her he was seeing someone, the way she said she could tell he was happy. It makes his heart sing, and he hopes when he has to tell Olivia what he knows it won't all come crashing down. He's had to promise to bring Olivia to meet her next weekend and he can't do that if she kills him.
The sun hits his face and he winces, but something catches his eye as he slams the car door behind him. "Liv!" he yells, and he runs, regretting it as his stomach and muscles bounce and jostle. He lays one hand over his belt and the other clutches the files, his shaded eyes brightening when he catches up to her by the side of the building. "Fill me in." The glare she gives him makes his head throb. His face falls. "Okay, that bad?"
Jeffries scoffs. "Well, after meeting your ex, we no longer wonder why you got divorced, Stabler," she says, half-smirking. "I'm gonna run this stuff down to the lab, meet you upstairs." She elbows Olivia and leaves to round the corner toward the side entrance.
"My ex?" He pulls on his blue tie once, then as painful as it is, he takes off his sunglasses and squints at her. "How the hell did Kathy have…"
"Her boss was raped and killed last night, we spent the last few hours in the office talking to everyone," Olivia babbles, "Including Kathy." She folds her arms and looks around, then leans into him. "At least she waited until Jeffries was in a different room before telling me...Maureen told her about me."
Elliot smirks. "Really?" he remarks, and he licks his lips as his free hand smooths down the side of his grey suit jacket. "Saves me the trouble." He tilts his head, sees the look in her eyes, and then grabs her arm. As he pulls her around to the back of the precinct for more privacy, he asks, "What's going on?" He furrows his brow and leans against the bricks. "What the hell did she say to you?"
"She's pissed," Olivia hisses at him, "Elliot, the woman is furious that you're involved with someone, she's not happy that it's your partner, and she's really fucking mad that I'm almost half your age." She bites her lip and then says. "She told me she doesn't want me anywhere near her kids, and she thinks I'm giving Maureen the idea that dating a man who's old enough to be her father is an acceptable thing." She brushes her hair out of her eyes and scrapes her teeth over her lip. "She's under the impression that you're eventually gonna try to get back together, so if the last month has been..."
He kisses her fast, deep, keeping her from finishing the thought. "You…" he whispers in a low voice that he knows is hitting parts of her that now belong to him, "All I think about is you. When I'm not thinking about being inside you, I'm thinking about being with you. Watching movies, making dinner, sleeping…" he bends his head and brushes his nose against the thin skin of her neck. "I think about how you smell, how you taste, how fucking beautiful you are, how intelligent and talented...and how you're not perfect but, fuck, you have the most perfect fucking imperfections."
She can't move because his words stun her into submission, and she knows his hands are roaming and heading into dangerous territory. It's the middle of the day, technically they're at work, he's battling a hangover and she's still pissed off, nothing about this is okay but she doesn't have the willpower or desire to fight it.
His left hand nestles itself between her legs, pressing into her heat, his right is under her chin, cupping it and forcing her to look at him. "I think about how hot, wet, and so fucking tight you are, how you take whatever I give and, damn, you know how to give it all right back to me. I think about the way your eyes are seven different colors but none of them have names. I think about how much I want to fucking kill everyone who has ever hurt you, and I think about how fucking ready I am to make this thing between us more serious than it should be, but damn it, I don't fucking care."
She moans, his fingers are stroking up into her through her burgundy pants, her hands are hooked around his arms, and she sees the depth and gravity in his eyes. "Elliot," she breathes, and he's unrelenting, replacing his hand with his knee and moving his arm to her waist. "You shouldn't be…"
"You're coming with me and the kids to my mother's house next weekend," he interrupts her again, and he groans when he feels how hot she is, the warmth seeping through his pants to his leg. "And Maureen's going back to school tonight, so you're gonna need to stay with us since I won't be able to leave the kids home alone." He gives his leg a swift, hard pop, making her moan, and he grips her chin a bit more firmly. He leans closer to her, brushes his lips over hers slightly, and whispers, "Does it sound like I fucking want to give you up and give Kathy a second fucking chance? Because, to me, it kind of sounds like I'm fucking in love with you and she can kiss my Irish ass."
She laughs but it brings a moan with it, and she can't help but rock against his thigh as he presses it up into her again. He's making her cum, up against the back wall of the station house, in broad fucking daylight, and she sees it on his face that he's damn proud of it.
He braces her and he growls when she starts to grind down onto his leg, his hands hold her hips tighter and he whispers, "God, I'd give anything to fuck…" and he can't get the rest of his words out, he's lost to the look on her face. He watches her eyes widen, her pupils dilate, he sees her jaw drop, hears the softest cry of his name, and he knows she's cumming. Fuck, this is amazing. He kisses her once just as her eyes slip shut, and he whispers something against her lips that earns him a deeper kiss and a scratch down his back.
She pulls away from him and inhales sharply, letting the last shockwave roll through her, and then she moves with him toward the front of the building. "Okay," she says, nodding at him. "After work, uh, I guess we'll stop at my place, I'll grab a bag…oh! Remind me to call my mother," she says, "I still haven't told her I officially got the job, she keeps hounding me about fixing a parking ticket for her."
He chuckles, but then he closes his eyes, reaches for the handle of the door, and says, "Liv, uh...I should have told you yesterday, but I didn't want to ruin your night." He nods at the desk clerk, waves to a couple of the guards, and then leads her up the stairs that bypass the metal detectors. "I, uh, when I met the guys, before we went to find you at Mace...um, I saw your mother."
She stops dead in her tracks. She turns slowly, her eyes still glassy from the fresh orgasm he just brought down upon her, and she wonders if it was his way of exhausting her so she wouldn't be able to get angry. "Please, tell me it was at the fucking bus stop."
"Baby," he whispers, and he shakes his head. "At O'Hara's, it's a…"
"I know what it is," she snaps. "You're right, you should have fucking told me!" She moves away from him fast, pulling her cell phone out of her pocket. She ignores his pleading stare as they walk fast toward the unit's doors, and she doesn't even say hello when her mother answers the call. "Yeah, when the hell did you start drinking again?"
He flinches as he listens to her dejected tone, her harsh words, and he wonders if maybe he did the right thing by telling her. He bites his lip when they round the corner and step into the squadroom, and he ignores the way Cassidy is starting to loom a little too close to her while he strains to listen to what she's saying.
"Don't worry about how I know where you were, just tell me why you…" she pauses, makes a frustrated noise, and then rubs her forehead with her free hand. She rolls her eyes and then her shoulders. "Fine, whatever. By the way, I took the job, so you have to pay that parking ticket. Well, that's not my problem, you figure it out!" Her eyes close. "Yeah, I love you, too." She hangs up and tosses her phone onto her desk, crosses her arms, and then looks at Elliot. "Oh, and don't think that little stunt you pulled outside gets you off the hook for leaving me with Jeffries this morning! What the hell did you have to do with, uh, what's his name? Briscoe?"
Elliot looks down at the files under his arm. "Uh, cold case." He nods at her, plops the folders onto his desk, and says, "Doesn't matter. Fill me in on this thing at Gateway, we'll get cracking. I'm all yours, now."
Olivia smirks and thinks back to the way Kathy had threatened her, the way she'd been so sure of herself. She doesn't know who she's dealing with. "Yeah," she says. "You are."
A/N: Next? A night with the kids, Elliot runs some things of his own down to the lab, and Jeffries and Munch make a startling discovery.