A/N: So, after the crossover event between episode 22x09 of SVU and the series premiere of OC, I was assaulted by these endless ideas of dialogue I didn't know what to do with. It wasn't a story, it was just one of the endless avenues this rebuilding of EO's relationship may or may not take, just a glimpse into an imagined reality that could fit with the new canon, now that we have one again!
I started to think about how this is possibly going to happen as we move through episodes until the end of the season, these ideas for quick scenes which will also be very fleeting, as the canon can change with every new episode, canceling the possibility of some of those imagined scenarios.
Still, I wanted to give those ideas a place to live so they would vacate my mind and allow for other thoughts about, you know, daily life and stuff. That's why I decided to create a ficlet collection, a place where ideas motivated by the new canon can live their short lives until new possibilities come along.
Below is the first ficlet, based on "Return of the Prodigal Sun" and "What Happens in Puglia", and it's called "A Familiar Scene".
Daylight saved
To spite the dark
In spite of the darkness
There I'll crave
To get to the heart
In spite of the darkness
Great wide stretches of canvas
Signed by a godless name
Strange bright colors of madness
Only a fool would frame
Sketches of Pain — Tears for Fears
A FAMILIAR SCENE
A cup of coffee, and both of her hands wrapped around it, fingers interlaced. Holding on for dear life.
It's a familiar scene.
About fifteen years earlier — the figure scares her —, they'd sat at a cafe just like this, next to each other around a small table, struggling for oxygen in the air that hung heavy with the silence that comes from too much left unsaid, trying to speed up to close a distance they weren't sure they could.
That was a completely different life back then, but the suffocating feeling is the same.
Olivia had been the one to leave then. He had felt betrayed, abandoned. Well, she knows the feeling now. And then some.
You were the single most important person in my life and you just…disappeared.
Elliot pretends to add more sugar to his coffee, and Olivia knows he's working up the courage to say something. Even with ten years between them, she still knows.
I was afraid that if I heard your voice, I wouldn't have been able to leave.
He clears his throat before he speaks. "They give you another partner?" he asks. "You know, after…I left."
Olivia presses her lips together as she's unceremoniously crushed by the memory of those first few days, months, years without him.
"Yeah," comes out in a whisper, and it's her turn to clear her throat. "His name was Nick. I made his life a living hell in the beginning."
"How so?" he asks with curiosity.
She shrugs, taking a minute to put the puzzle of feelings into a coherent set of words. "Basically, I didn't want a new partner."
Elliot sighs audibly, looking down at his own coffee mug. She can see his fingers curling to grip harder at the handle.
"But he understood," she goes on, bringing his attention back to her. She smiles, shaking her head slightly. "He was so patient. He was such a great guy. Such a great partner."
Tears threaten to well up in her eyes, but she blinks them away and takes a deep breath while registering the pain in his blue eyes as they face the reality that he had been replaced. That she had eventually accepted that.
She waits, but it's very clear he's not going to say anything. He's just listening now.
"He looked out for me, you know?" she continues. "Right off the bat. He was my junior, so he looked up to me…but he was also…this rock you know? I resisted trusting him for a while, but he was always there when I needed him."
Olivia can see clearly as tears well up in his eyes now, and there's also the glint of a different emotion, something that she knows well, she'd been so used to seeing it in his protective, territorial stare.
Possessiveness.
"Did you two ever…" he says, and for a moment, she wonders if she really heard it — he's nearing the forbidden territory.
"What?" she says, her brow furrowing. "No! It wasn't like that…"
Like us, is the part she omits, unwilling to break their unacknowledged promise to never touch those topics they had unspokenly agreed to never allude to so long ago.
Elliot seems a bit relieved. He nods once, then looks away from her, as though ashamed of the entitlement he knows he has no right to claim over her.
"Where is he now?" he wants to know, but there's accusation somewhere in there too — they both know he hasn't met any Nicks since he came back. Maybe he feels better knowing he wasn't the only one to abandon her? Olivia hates him for his pettiness in that moment.
"San Diego, last I heard," she says casually before she throws an accusation of her own. "He does call me sometimes. Sends Christmas Cards."
Elliot scoffs, looking down like he's amused by his coffee — maybe he's seeing the projected image of all the postcards with stunning images of Rome he'd never considered sending her.
"But yeah, he left, he moved on," Olivia emphasizes, and she's not sure if she's trying to seem tough or what. "And so did Munch, Cragen."
For some reason, it's important for her that he knows how much she's lost since she'd lost him. His glance turns into one of sadness when it touches her face again.
"Fin stayed," he points out.
She bites her lower lip, realizing how grateful she is. "He did. He never left me."
"I owe him," Elliot raises his voice slightly, and it comes out choked with emotion. "I owe all of them. For having your back when I didn't. It was my job."
"Exactly…" Olivia grins, shaking her head. "It was your job. But you left the job."
"Liv…" he says with this scary intensity, covering her hand with his, the heat of the steaming mug caught under his demanding skin. "Looking out for you is always gonna be my job. Partners or not."
He doesn't have to say a word for her to know he's not going to let go of her hand or stop staring at her until she acknowledges his statement. But she's not giving him what he wants here. She needs to put herself first.
"I'm just not ready to count on it," she whispers. "I think you can understand why."
His intensity falters, but she catches him trying to conceal it with lightheartedness.
"So you're still stubborn as hell huh?" he chuckles, but Olivia is not amused.
She shakes her head. "Oh this isn't me being stubborn…" she counters, harshly retrieving her hand from his grip. "Trust me… I am not stubborn anymore. This is me just…trying really hard not to rely on…" she trails off, gesturing between them. "This."
"Liv…" he protests in an unconvincing whisper.
Olivia instinctively pulls away toward the back of her chair, gaining a few precious inches of distance. "It's very easy to fall back into what it was…" she starts, then corrects herself. "What I thought it was… Until you up and leave again. Then what happens to me?"
Before she realizes, Olivia is already standing up and putting on her coat. Elliot sits, defeated, watching.
"I'm not gonna…" he tries, but she cuts him off.
"I didn't mean to be…" she says apologetically, with the most uncomfortable politeness. "I know you're…trying. But I just…I've got to protect myself here."
The last few words are said in a whisper, and it's all she can do to keep from crying before she turns and starts to walk away with long strides.
"Please, read the letter," he says with renewed vehemence before she can even understand that his hand has wrapped around her upper arm and halted her movements. His mouth is suddenly, dangerously close to her ear as she keeps her back turned to him. "Tell me you didn't throw it away."
When she doesn't respond, he tightens his grasp.
"I didn't," she confesses, contemplating the endless times she's fantasized about burning the envelope, aware as she'd always been that she'd never have the heart to do it.
"Give me a chance, Liv," he pleads. "Read it."
Without replying, Olivia pulls her arm, and he offers no resistance, allowing her to make her escape.
She still knows how to run away from him.
It's a familiar scene.