A/N: If you watched OC last night and have had a productive day, how does it feel to be superhuman? Is it fun? This was written quickly but was fun to get it out.
It has been such a long time since Olivia has done this. The pandemic, coupled with her roles as a mother and a captain, her priority just wasn't this. She'd spent the extra time blowing her hair out, bumping the ends, allowing her bangs to fall seductively across her face. She'd spent time lining her eyes with black, brushed each lash with lengthening mascara, and applied two coats of her favorite lipstick. She'd stood at her closet with the doors swung open in nothing but a robe and she took the time to pick out the perfect dress.
It has been so long since Olivia has done this for a man.
April brought unpredictable weather to New York City, so she intends to take advantage of the warm May evening. She chooses a dress she's only worn once before. It's olive, stops at her knees, fits her snugly, and clings to her curves. The shoes she chooses are brown, strappy, and higher than any heel she's worn in the last year.
When she's dressed and she finally leaves the confines of her bedroom, her son makes a big deal over her appearance. "You look be-yoo-tiful," Noah sings, with both his eyebrows hitched on his cherub face. "Where ya going?"
"I told you, knucklehead," Olivia teases. "Out with a friend." By the time she gets to the door, her smile is genuine and her face is flushed because if a child tells you you're beautiful, it's usually true.
She tells Noah to go to his room with Lucy one last time as she stands at the door. "Go ahead, Noah! Finish your homework," Olivia instructs. When her date had texted her, telling her that he'd just arrived, she hadn't expected him to come upstairs. She'd been gathering her cropped brown jacket and her clutch when the doorbell rang.
Olivia peers over her shoulder once more, finding Noah retreating into the back of the apartment with his sitter, so since he's moving, and even though it's sluggish, she decides to answer the door.
"Hi," Olivia beams.
"Who is that? Uncle Elliot?" Olivia whips around to find Noah standing there again and she groans.
"Noah," she starts, her eyes squinting the slightest bit. She tries to gain his eye contact, but he's way too interested in their guest to pay attention.
He peeks around her and he huffs. "Oh."
She tries to ignore the disappointment in his voice. He'd been trying to meet Elliot for some time now. "Noah this is my friend, Mr. Edgar Goodwin."
"This is Noah? He doesn't look like a baby to me! Nice to meet you, sir," Edgar reaches his hand out, offering it to Noah.
Her son shakes his hand, peering up at him, his questioning eyes taking in the man who'll be entertaining her for the evening. After a beat, Noah finally speaks. "You are super tall."
Edgar chuckles, his eyes darting from Olivia to her son. "I am." He is tall. He towers over both her and Noah, and she wonders if he'll have to duck just to enter her home. His beard is fully grey, but his brown skin is smooth, clear and he exudes youthfulness. She considers his age and if he's even remotely close in age to her. With all that grey, he has to be, she decides. The loose curls of his hair are slicked back, his suit is pressed and perfectly fitted and she notes that he smells damned good, even from inside her home. Jesus, she is fully checking him out right there in front of her son.
"Noah!" Behind them Lucy is standing there, reaching for him. "So sorry, Liv," she whispers, her hands grabbing onto Noah's shoulders. She gives them a squeeze. "Let's go, bud."
"Night," Olivia says, watching as Noah and Lucy begin retreating again. "When you said you were here, I didn't expect you to come up."
Edgar frowns slightly. "This is a date, isn't it?"
"It is," she chuckles.
"Oh, ok. I thought so. Don't beautiful women like this? Being picked up at their door?"
Olivia grins and she nods quietly. This is nice. It'd been so long, too long since she's been out with a man like this. Powerful, forward and so God damned handsome that she doesn't know what to do with herself.
Edgar is smooth and eloquent when he speaks. He is the type of guy you find yourself swooning over and melting when he laughs and blushing infinitely hard at every single compliment. He is perfect. The perfect distraction and as he fits his hand on her lower back, escorting her to his car, opening every door they step through, she finally takes a breath and she lets the relief settle over her.
This is it. Her time to unwind and relax and remember what it feels like to just be a woman. He'd called her, and she's almost positive she has Garland to thank for it, and she didn't even mind the assist. "Take a few days. Let someone take care of you," Garland had told her. And he sent his incredibly attractive lawyer friend over to be the one to do it.
In the car, they make small talk until he brings up a case from a few weeks ago. "A black girl was kidnapped?"
"Two girls actually," Olivia says. She goes on to give him a brief overview of the Harper case. He's already familiar with the basics.
"Nicole Harper, right? Saw her interview on TV. I'm sure that was helpful," Edgar says with a chuckle.
"She meant well, I just think—" In her hand, her phone vibrates. She looks down and it's him again. Stabler. Fuck. How many more times was he going to call? She silences her phone before she drops it into her bag and her attention turns back to Edgar. "I understand her desperation. Feeling unseen and unheard, she was fighting for her sister. Do you know how many women of color are missing?"
Edgar chuckles again. "You don't have to tell me. It's sickening."
"It is."
Her bag begins buzzing in her lap and she rolls her eyes. She was so close to blocking him at this point. Over the last two weeks, he'd left multiple messages, sent multiple texts, and even after she'd caved one night and texted him back asking for space, he still calls. From what she understands, there's been a break in Kathy's case, but she just doesn't have it in her.
She is spent. So completely worn out and just barely surviving on her own, she cannot welcome him with open arms this time. She had tried to be a pillar of strength for him and she was told to back off. Twice. I didn't ask you to be here. The rejection had been a reminder that the person who ends up hurt every time this scenario has ever played out, has always been her. She is the one broken and alone and left to fend for herself. So this time, after she's begged him to get help and he's refused emphatically, she knows this isn't her battle to fight. He won't get help until he wants it and she can't sacrifice herself to make him do it. Even as the realization fits itself into her brain, all that she is able to think of is that he told her he loved her.
Elliot Stabler told Olivia Benson that he loved her.
He loves her. It is a fact. It is something she knew to be true and still, it ruffled every calm seam of her being. She was falling apart, physically unstitching at the idea of it, that he'd said it with his children there as witnesses. It has to resonate with her every time she remembers he'd said it. Still, a week later, there are moments when she has difficulty even comprehending it.
Since he'd stumbled back into her life, he'd been more forthcoming with his feelings than he'd ever been as her partner. You mean the world to me had lingered in her brain for weeks. She heard it every day, every moment alone, every time someone mentioned his name. You mean the world to me. It shook her every single time. And if she thought that was earth-shattering, I love you was ethereal.
It was a resounding feeling, knowing that he loved her enough to declare it. She was left bewildered and perplexed in the worst way. WHAT her mind had screamed. You love me? And she'd watched it play out on his ever expressive face. His royal fuck up, he hadn't even meant to say it, didn't even realize it at first. His lips had trembled, broke into a nervous smile, before faltering again. He twitched, looked away, cowered inwardly.
He tried to cover it up and he failed. She knew him too well.
She knew that the words had forced themselves out and he was grasping at his self-control. He was losing it, his sense of boundaries, and maybe even his mind. The Elliot she knows would've never voiced such a thing to her, no matter how much it was silently understood between them. The Elliot before her that day was broken.
And Olivia is self-aware enough to know that she is lingering on the cusp of broken, too.
How can two broken people help each other anyway? It's the question she'd asked herself the first time she'd ignored his call. And now, as her phone vibrates again, she thinks the same. I cannot help you.
She needs a break. Even if it's just for a few weeks. The recovery period is a requirement at this point.
He loves her. Still. After all this time and Jesus, she knows his heart is broken because of it. He'd never wanted to love her. She knows that.
She never wanted to love him either.
The guilt she feels, God, his guilt must be tenfold. Even with the Atlantic Ocean between them and a decade worth of time, grief, and absence, he never learned to fully love his wife. She knows it eats at him. It must kill him that even in death, he isn't able to give Kathy what she deserves.
—
Fuck.
She'd done it again. She'd been operating on automatic, smiling, laughing when appropriate, and suddenly like she's had a quick mirage of Elliot's face and blinked once, they're now seated in a beautiful restaurant Edgar had chosen for them. He had taken her jacket, pulled out her chair and when they were finally seated he'd told her how beautiful she looked again.
"Lamai and Christian told me about Vanessa's."
The corner of her mouth lifts compassionately. "The pandemic has really done a number on us, huh?"
"All of us," he says in agreement. "I'm happy you agreed to this date, Olivia."
"Me too," Olivia says. She shakes it off, the guilt, the grief that comes with Elliot, she gets rid of it temporarily. She won't go on like this. Stuck. She can't.
She won't.
"Tell me about Noah."
Oh, Noah. Is that uncle Elliot? He had never even met him. God. Even her son has been obsessed with the guy he keeps seeing in passing. That's Uncle Elliot, she'd blurted out once after he'd asked. It was a habit. Aunt Amanda, Uncle Sonny, Uncle Fin. And now her son refers to this man as uncle and Jesus, he's everywhere now. In her phone, at work, now in her incredibly perceptive son's mind, too.
She is giving him the basics, Noah's grade, age, his hobbies when her phone vibrates again. "Let me just turn this off," Olivia says, reaching into her bag for her phone. It's not a call this time. It is a text. From him.
MESSAGES
Stabler
is that your boyfriend?
Olivia's eyes dart around the restaurant, but she's unable to spot him. Had he tracked her phone? Was he following her? Is he really that unhinged that he's taken these extreme measures? God, is he okay? She feels her hands shake and she shoves them to her lap. Fuck. "Edgar, if you could excuse me. Emergency. Work."
"Oh sure, I understand," Edgar says with a smile. "I'll order you a drink. Wine? Red?"
"Any red is fine," she says and they stand together. He is so gentlemanly and she has to ask God, why is he so perfect? She gives him one last smile, grabbing her mask and she makes her way to the bathroom. Her phone is pressed to her ear and it only rings once before he answers.
"Have you been getting my calls?"
"Yes, Elliot. I said I need space," she grunts harshly. "Do you know what space means?"
"We don't have time, Liv. Did you listen to anything I said in those voicemails? We need to talk."
"I can't. I do not have the capacity," she whispers. She looks up into the mirror in front of her and she sees the tears in her eyes already. "Elliot, I just need a night. For myself. Can we do this later?"
"I've called you every single day for over a week."
"I. Can't," she bites off.
"Olivia."
"Go home. Do not ruin this for me. Bye." Olivia ends the call and she rips a paper towel and blots at her eyes. He doesn't get to take this. Her date, her perfect distraction is waiting for her, and he doesn't get to take this experience away from her. She presses her back to the bathroom door for a moment, pinches the bridge of her nose, and breathes before she plasters a smile on her face and she opens it.
She is a master at this. At burying her innermost feelings and no matter how broken her heart is, she knows damn well how to smile through it.
—
By dessert, she is certain that Elliot has left. She expects him to be waiting for her at her apartment building, a place she's never invited him to, but somehow she knows that he knows exactly where she lives.
The shock is genuine and nauseating when she sees him approaching right over Edgar's shoulder. She almost feels stupid for ever thinking he'd actually leave. Of course, he wouldn't leave. Why would she ever think Elliot would respect this boundary? He'd tracked her phone for God's sake.
"Elliot," she mumbles.
"Huh?" Edgar picks his head up, tearing his attention from his chocolate cake.
"I'm so sorry," Olivia says, reaching out to grasp Edgar's hand. "I've had such an amazing time with you," she rushes out. She knows the second Elliot gets to them, it'll all be over.
Elliot doesn't even bother to be polite, to say hello, or offer a smile. He just speaks. "Did you drive here?"
Olivia looks up at him. He stands there, looking impatient as ever, in his blue button-up shirt, grey tie, and matching grey slacks. His gun is protruding from his hip and his badge is clutched in his left hand. She imagines him briefly, strutting through the entrance, proclaiming police business before going on his search for her. "Elliot, are you kidding me?" She keeps her tone even and she tries to remain as calm as she possibly can.
"Oh, this is Elliot? Your… brother?"
"I am not her brother," Elliot bites off.
"This is Detective Stabler."
"Oh. Oh," Edgar gives Olivia an apologetic look. Garland must've filled him in on that, too. Edgar must know exactly who Elliot is. Edgar stands to his feet and he offers his hand. "Edgar Goodwin."
Elliot turns to look up at Edgar, and then down to Olivia where she's still seated. Seriously, his eyes ask.
Yes, Elliot, there's a man on earth whose presence is bigger than yours, she thinks. At least, physically.
Elliot offers his hand to Edgar and finally, they shake firmly. "Elliot Stabler. Not her brother. Nice to meet you."
Edgar chuckles, flashing his perfect white teeth. He is not at all intimidated by Elliot. "Nice to meet you, too."
"Elliot, whatever it is—"
"It's important. Let's go." Elliot cuts her off and she notices the clench of his jaw and the vein protruding at his temple.
Edgar gains her eye contact and she realizes then how soothing his presence is. "Olivia, if it's work—"
"It is. Liv, let's go." Elliot's fists ball at his sides and she knows his patience is wearing thin. The veins in his arms, on the tops of his hands, all ripple as he breathes through his anger.
She doesn't have much of a choice. She could say no but that'd only escalate him. Or she could just gather her things and accept defeat. "Could you give me a moment to say goodnight to my date, Elliot?"
Elliot drops his eyes down to watch before he glares at her. "Five minutes."
—
Edgar had asked if she was okay. He'd offered to get rid of Elliot for her, but she knows well enough that if he had taken these measures, he wouldn't leave without a fight.
She feels herself stewing. Physically, she is boiling in the passenger seat of his truck. The first few minutes of the car ride had been in silence, but she is unable to hold it for another moment. "I am not one of your children, Elliot."
"Clearly."
"You tracked my phone? Don't you think that's a violation of my privacy? You're following me, Elliot? Are you crazy?"
His eyes dart away from the road and he quickly chances a look at her. "You think I'm crazy?"
"Elliot," she barks. "Do you even realize what you just did? Where is Sergeant Bell? She's going to hear about this."
"Go ahead and tell her," he whispers. "I sat there for over an hour while you had your date. You're lucky I let you have dessert."
"Let me? Do you hear yourself?"
"Kathy was the target."
"I got that, El. I heard your messages."
"I think… this goes far deeper than what I thought. I think it's all connected… I think… it's all far-fetched. Let's just get to my apartment and we'll sort it all out. I need to bounce this off of someone who sees like me. I need your eyes, Liv."
—
"You look nice," Elliot mumbles. His eyes linger on her for a moment before he goes to the kitchen. "Do you want water? I have beer. Alcohol. No… food."
"I'm fine."
He grabs a cup and he fills it with water. "How long were you planning on ignoring me for?" he asks, peering at her over his cup.
"For as long as I could," Olivia answers. She looks around his apartment, at the wall littered with papers and photos. At the table stacked with new files that hadn't been there a week ago. She leans against the furthest wall just outside of the kitchen, maintaining space between them. "How many times did I call you before I gave up? For however long that was, that was the goal."
"Olivia."
"What?" She is looking directly at him, challenging him to defend himself, but he knows better of it.
They stare at each other for a moment before he sighs. "How could you walk away? After that."
"Walk away? Elliot, you do not ever get to question why I've walked away from you. Ever. Do you get that?" The words are flying out of her mouth before she's able to stop them. "And I didn't walk away, Elliot. You left me here in your apartment with your kids after you told me you loved me. In front of them. Elliot, are you even thinking at this point?"
"It just came out," he mutters, his eyes scattering around the kitchen. "I don't even," he shrugs. "I've wanted to say that to you for so long and I— I wasn't expecting to see you. I couldn't even understand how you could still care enough to be there and then I… the kids were there, but I only saw you. I'm sorry."
"Elliot."
"I just saw you. For a second I looked up and it wasn't just in my head. I had nightmares about you. I'd see your face when I slept," he confesses and Olivia feels her chest constrict. "Every time I was reminded of you, I'd have a nightmare. See guns pointed at you… every time we could've ever died together merges in my head at night… and now it's not just you. It's Kathy, too. I see it. Over and over."
"I'm here, Elliot. I'm fine."
"Are you? Am I? Is anyone fine?"
"I don't know what you want from me, Elliot. You keep saying these things to me. The letter. I—" The words end abruptly and she shakes her head.
"I do love you, Olivia. It's important to me that you know that. What I've lost this year… I can't go on without letting you know how much you've meant to me."
"This isn't our thing," she whispers. "We don't do this. And we don't cross these lines. You're—" married trips on her lips and when the realization occurs, it aches. She shakes her head again and she sighs. "We don't do this," she repeats.
"Why not?"
"Because you don't know what you're saying. You're devastated and you're grieving."
"Everything with Kathy aside, I love you, Olivia."
"Can you just stop, El? Please? Are you going to be okay?" Olivia asks. "Whatever you wanted to talk about, can it be tomorrow? Can we do this tomorrow?"
"It was Lenksi. I have proof now. We've also been following the drugs. Look." Elliot hands her a file and she flips it open. "Do you know how many people have been killed by these drugs?"
"Is Kathy connected to Wheatley, Elliot? Is it possible…" She doesn't even attempt to finish her sentence.
"What are you asking me, Olivia?" Her eyes lift to meet his, and they both know what she is thinking. "I've thought about it, too. There's no way."
"We're not going to figure this out tonight. I can take some of this home," Olivia says holding up the folder in her hand. "I told my sitter I'd be home by now."
"I'll bring you."
"No, I can call an Uber."
The look on his face tells her that she isn't getting in a taxi and she doesn't even argue with him. She doesn't give him her address. Just as she's suspected, he already knows where she lives. "I'm walking you up," he says, pressing the off button to the ignition.
"I'll blink my lights," she offers. She points toward her window, "just look right there—"
"Let me walk you up, Liv. This is more for me than it is for you."
"It always has been," she says. Elliot pauses for a moment, processing her loaded statement, but he doesn't respond. Instead, he steps out of the car and he meets her in the street before they begin walking toward her building. They're quiet on the elevator ride before Olivia clears her throat. "You can't come in."
"I didn't ask," is his response.
They walk to her door and she opens her purse, retrieving her keys. When she turns around, and she sees his face, she knows him so well at this point in their lives, he doesn't even have to say it. She shoves her purse under her arm and she prepares to hear it again. I love you. The tears she'd been fighting all night multiply in her eyes, just like the burning in her nose and the heaviness in her chest. "I can't say it back," she whispers quickly before he says anything. "But you know."
"I know."
She nods in understanding. "Good night," she mumbles, but before she can slip her key into the lock, she feels his hand on her bicep. He spins her back around to face him and her hands land at his sides. They stand there for a second, reading each other, memorizing each other. When her eyes drift to his mouth, he takes it as a sign. It is a sign that she wants him to kiss her.
His fingers thread through her hair and he tilts her head back. He drops down and he covers her lips with his. It's innocent. A kiss between friends. It's all innocent until her mouth drags away and he follows after her, and this time his mouth is determined. He catches her with parted lips, his mouth open and ready for her. He seizes her succulent lower lip into his mouth and he sucks gently.
"El," she breathes, sighs softly into his mouth as he shifts her head, angling her for his onslaught. His tongue touches hers and she awakens. Her right hand clutches his stubbled jaw and she kisses him back, clinging to him, grasping desperately as he ignites something in her she'd thought was gone a long time ago. She falters in her heels, falls against the door to her apartment as he steps closer, his body lining up against hers. As desperate as they become, they both know it is not about sex. It is about a connection that had been forged decades ago. It is about an unconventional love story that had never blossomed to its fullest potential.
Everything that has gone unspoken between them is instantly confessed in a kiss that has come far later than expected but is still just as perfect, just as complete.
Elliot breaks away and he chances a look at her. "I'm sorry," Elliot whispers against her mouth. "Is this okay? Are you okay?"
Her eyes are still closed when she answers, "I'm fine."
He swallows audibly. "Are you?" Elliot asks and when she opens her eyes, she finds that his eyes are moist with unfallen tears.
Olivia's voice is so small, so broken when she finally answers, "Is anybody?" The slight shrug of her shoulders, the way her eyebrows stitch together, chips at his heart.
"Let me stay, Liv."
Her eyes slip closed again. "Thought you didn't ask."
He cracks a smile. "Please."
"El, I can't. I'm exhausted. You don't understand." He doesn't even know of the loss she has experienced or how strong she's had to be. He has no idea about Ed or Simon, or the case against her that has just been closed. He has no idea.
"We won't talk," Elliot promises. "We don't have to talk about ourselves or the case. I need you to be near tonight, Olivia. And I think you need me, too."
God, it's true. She does need him near. She wants him near. She turns away from him and she sticks her key into the lock, finally flipping it over, opening the door. She walks inside and she turns, holding the door open for him. His eyes are red and glassy, but she feels the relief emanating from them. Thank you, they say to her.
Lucy secretly asks about the change of date and long story is her whispered answer. After Lucy has let herself out, they stand there for a moment in silence. She has her right arm across her waist, supporting the elbow of her left arm. Her fingertips are pressed into her lips, still shocked that he has kissed her, and her eyes drift over the toys and papers Noah has left on the kitchen table. Even as she looks for a distraction, he's there. He's waiting for her to lead this.
Her eyes drift over to where he stands and they climb slowly until they meet his.
Now what?
"What are you thinking, Liv?" he asks, breaking the lull.
"I thought you said we didn't have to talk."
"Do you want to know what I'm thinking about," Elliot baits. He waits for a beat before he answers his own question. "I'm thinking about kissing you again."