A/N: Sometimes, the only way to slow ourselves down is to just keep moving.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the show or the characters, but, oh, how I wish I did.

March 21st, 5:21 AM

"Well, at least it's not freezing out here," Olivia said, shifting her eyes toward Elliot as she brought a cup of hot coffee to her lips. She smiled once she tasted it; Elliot had ordered her something called a French Kiss, a sweet blend of vanilla, caramel, and raspberry in a dark roast. He told her it was because he'd kiss her all day if he could.

"Could be waiting in the fucking lobby, but you didn't wanna make nice with Novak." He sipped his own hot latte, a simple bitter blend with milk and sugar, and nodded his agreement. "You, uh, you chewed her out in front of Donnelly, that's gonna cost her, you know that don't you?"

"She deserved it," Olivia took another sip of her coffee and kicked one foot over the other as she draped her arm over her chest and leaned against the car door. "She's dropped the ball one too many times, and I am not in the mood to deal with her bullshit excuses."

Narrowing his eyes, he moved closer to her, leaned in, and lowered his voice to a whisper. "You okay? You seem, uh…"

"For the first time in almost a month, I wasn't having any trouble sleeping," she broke. She sipped her coffee and licked her lips. "Of course, we get woken up, dragged out to a fucking burger joint at five in the damn morning, and when we finally get a solid lead, Novak blueballs us on a technicality? I don't think so." She scraped her teeth over her bottom lip. "More has happened to us in the last year…" she swallowed as the memories rolled by, one by one. She looked at him, into his eyes, and tilted her head. "Janis and all nine of her fake personalities hitting on you, threatening you," she blinked once.

"Thomas and Morton, that fucking bastard," Elliot added, his eyes on Olivia's lips as she sipped her coffee again.

There was a moment of pure silence, Olivia's eyes dropped to the lid of her cup. "You…" she took a quick breath. "You went blind." She pressed her lips together. "You think, uh, you think Casey knew I was there? When she…"

"Is that why you're out for blood?" He smirked and drew even closer to her. "Because she came to see me thinking I needed more than just her legal help?"

"She used personal bias to let that son of a bitch walk," she said, tears springing to her eyes. "She threw you under the bus, made us both look like absolute idiots, I'm not sorry for going to the feds." She let out another breath as her lips trembled, and she blinked again, hoping to stave away tears. "She didn't care about those little girls, or what that man did to you, all she could think about was her…"

"Hey," he cut her off, shaking his head. "I'm fine, and Novak's under a lot of scrutiny for it. Ya know, I should actually go out to Saratoga Springs and thank Picard." He brought a hand to her face, caressed her for a moment, then smiled at her. "Going blind made me see everything so much more clearly." He smoothed the pad of his thumb under her eyes. "You, uh, remember what I said to you? When we were working that Cryobank case?"

"That Munch is an asshole?" she joked, and when he laughed, she relaxed. With her lip between her teeth, she nodded. "Yeah, I remember. I actually...hear you saying it, over and over." She rolled her eyes and sipped her coffee. "If I knew then that you just meant moving your four fully grown kids into my place…"

"Liv," he interrupted her sarcastic crack. "When I brought it up, when we were in the car…" he gulped down the rest of his coffee, swallowed loudly, and tossed his foam cup into a nearby trash can. "I was thinking about you...raising kids. My kids. But also…" he turned back to her, found her eyes again, smiled. "Thinking about being the one that got to…"

"Detectives," Casey Novak interrupted their conversation and held a folded packet to Elliot with a sideways grin. "Your warrant. Gets you phone logs, computer access, security footage, and anything inside the manager's office," She crossed her arms when Elliot took it from her. "What, no thank you?"

He rolled his eyes and shouted, "Thank you," as he ran around the back of the car to the driver's side.

Olivia didn't say a word as she threw her empty cup on top of Elliot's in the trash can and then got into the car, slamming the door behind her. She buckled her seatbelt and then looked at Elliot as he started the car.

"Don't say it," he intoned, turning the wheel and pulling away from the curb.

She licked her lips and laughed, and then asked, "What were you gonna say? Before Casey and her crush on you interrupted?"

"You know what I was gonna say," he told her, and he shot her a look that held more weight than any words ever could. "And when we get to that point, because we will…" he grinned and turned his attention back to the road in front of him, "I'm gonna be the happiest son of a bitch in the world."

She couldn't help but smile at the look on his face, in his eyes, and she had to admit, she'd thought about it every night since he said it, since the words left his lips. He wanted to be there for her, he thought she'd be an amazing mother, and now she knew for certain that she was right about the hidden promise in his voice. He wanted to be the one that gave her that gift. "Are you?"

He nodded with a delirious smile, turning the wheel, and he said, "I think you were right. It has been a hell of a year, and a lot of shit happened that….God, I wish never did, but you and me? More than makes up for it."

She laughed again, then fished her phone out of her pocket and dialed a number she apparently knew well. "You and me, huh?" She shot him a sly smirk. "How long you think…" she held up a finger, leaving him confused, and she spoke into the phone. "Yeah, Mac, it's...good, everything's good, I need you to…" she rolled her eyes. "How did you...oh." She shot Elliot another look; her smile changed and shift into something soft. "Yellow roses?" She watched Elliot chuckle. "Thanks, I will. No, I need you to dump a number for me. Ten minutes. Run down a central code, nine-one-seven, two-one-five-nine. Yeah, Baja Burger. They do?" She rolled her eyes again. "No, never. Maybe we will. How soon can you...okay, great, no, uh, I gotta go we got a...body dump. Okay, thanks, bye!" She hung up fast and let out an exaggerated scoff. "That woman..."

"She told you someone sent you roses," Elliot said, turning back down the avenue toward the restaurant. "That's nice. Wonder who they're from."

"Well, according to McNamara, there's no card," she let her gaze fall as she asked him, "But they're from Venus et Fleur so she assumed they were from my apparently very wealthy boyfriend." She eyed him again, smiling only slightly. "You sent me roses. Why?"

"The beauty of it, baby, is that I don't need a reason." He pulled the car into a parking spot in the burger joint's lot. He shifted the gear, turned off the car, then leaned over the console. He held her gaze for a moment, then kissed her in the middle of the forehead. "Just this one." He pressed his lips to hers quickly, shortly. Then gave her a smile as he got out of the car.

She let her smile fade as chewed on her lip and watched him walk toward the yellow tape, thinking about something she struggled to fully process until now. Events leading up to her time in Sealview, every moment after, overlapped and tangled until there was nothing but a knotted mess of furious emotion and lost chances. Her eyes darkened as a meaningful smirk crossed her face. She opened her door, got out, and slammed it shut as she bound toward the line with a new kick in her step. As she flashed her badge to the uniforms guarding the door, she spotted Elliot holding up the warrant and giving the manager the full Stabler experience.

With every step toward him, she felt the broken parts of her snap back together. The scattered thoughts that had boggled her mind suddenly made sense, the fire that had burned itself out almost a month ago reignited with more intensity and fervor. She snapped her fingers and pointed, directing the crime scene guys toward the manager's office. "The computer, any disks and drives, any files, paperwork, pictures," she looked at the man then Elliot, and she grinned smugly. "Check under the floorboards."

The manager looked horrified; Elliot looked proud; Olivia looked like herself for the first time in months. "You heard Detective Benson," Elliot spoke with an authority in his tone that didn't exist until now. "Move!"

They worked with a regenerated dynamic and strength. They had their rhythm back, the swift deduction, keen eyes, obvious intellect that struck fear in the hearts of their perps and awe in the minds of their colleagues; the flirtatious banter that once upon a time served to rule each other up and piss each other off, but now held so much truth and promise; it was all there and so much more prevalent. After getting everything they could from Baja Burger, they headed back to the station, stopping for more coffee on the way.

"Here," Elliot handed her a tall, capped cup and a paper-wrapped donut. "They know me by name, now. I hope you and your caffeine habit are happy." He gave her a grin as he took a sip of his own coffee and took his foot off the gas, easing out of the drive-through. He stopped before pulling onto the main road, eyeing her as she bit into her stuffed donut. His smirk grew darker when, as he'd anticipated, chocolate hazelnut cream slowly dripped from the corner of her lip down her chin. He leaned over, ignoring the honking horn from the car behind him, and grabbed her neck. Pulling her toward him, he whispered, "So much better than sprinkles," and then ran his tongue along her skin, lapping up the sweetness and then delving into her opened mouth. He pulled away, licking his own smugly grinning lips, then started to drive.

"Son of a bitch," she breathed, letting out a small laugh on the heels of a moan. She shifted in her seat, feeling the sudden discomfort of arousal at the wrong time, in the wrong place. She took a long sip of her coffee, another bite of her donut, and then she said, "Just wait, Stabler."

He laughed as he turned the wheel, shaking his head. "Yeah, I realize," he cleared his throat, "We have a problem." He winced as he wriggled in his seat and just as he turned down the street toward the station, his phone rang. "Damn it," he spat, but the Bluetooth in his car kicked on, answering the call. "The fuck? Uh, Stabler?"

Cragen's voice barked out a gruff, "Watch your damn language, Stabler!" that echoed around the front of the car. "You two on your way back yet?"

"Yeah, Cap," he gave Olivia a sharp look as she chuckled at Cragen's scold. "We just parked. We gotta take the tags into the lab, then we're heading up to…"

"Well, keep the car running. I'll have Ryan swing out to grab your bags. You got another vic," Cragen's tone was severe, almost angry.

"You gotta be fucking kidding me," Elliot hissed. "Jesus, connected to our case?"

"Gee, no, Elliot, I just thought you could juggle two at once," Cragen remarked. "The Gray's Papaya on Seventy-Second, drive through attendant was raped and killed in the manager's office. Body was left in the same pose. Pretty sure it's connected, yeah." They heard Cragen huff and knew he was annoyed. "Warner will meet you there." They heard a loud click, the call cut out, and then there was silence.

Olivia waved to Ryan O'Halloran, the lab tech, and smiled politely as he grabbed the boxes of bagged evidence out of the backseat of their car. "Thanks, Ry," she said with a nod, and as soon as the man closed the door, Elliot backed out of the lot again. She looked at him, exhaled, and sipped her coffee. "He's right, you know," she said with a grin.

"About what?" he raised an eyebrow at her as he drove onto the road, hitting the button to light up the dash.

She dropped her cup into the console's holder. "You curse like a sailor."

"Eh, well, I am a Marine," he quipped. "And an Irish Catholic cop with a lot of pent up aggression." He looked at her. "You're not exactly Little Miss G-Rated, babe."

"Never said I was," she shrugged. "Just said you need to find a different word when Cragen's around. That's the second time he's told you to watch your mouth." She laughed at the face he made, then leaned back in her seat, watching the black and whites and flashing lights come into view. "This bastard escalated way too fast. From the burger joint to this place, before the sun even came up." She shook her head. "When did all these fast food joints start serving breakfast, anyway?"

"Trying to compete with McDonald's," he said as he parked. "Instead, they compete with the scum in the city that doesn't sleep." He let out a sigh as he got out of the car, hearing Olivia's door open at the same time. He stared on as she moved, a weight in her walk that made her more intimidating, more seductively dangerous. He smirked as he whispered, "There's my girl."

"I heard that!" she called over her shoulder. She tucked in her black shirt and pulled the collar up on her brown leather jacket.

"Wasn't trying to keep it quiet," he returned, smoothing out his red tie. And as they stepped under the yellow crime scene tape, he knew. He held up his badge, nodded at the unis by the door, and stepped up to Olivia. "We got this," he said, then he looked at her. He lowered his voice. "And we got each other."

She winked at him then looked over toward the manager's office. "Damn right."

A/N: Next? They work the case, Elliot's lawyer calls, the kids have a problem, and we meet Fisher.