If you would like to join me in the happy EO bubble I was in while writing this chapter, you might listen to "Ivy" by Taylor Swift on repeat.

If you're on Twitter and enjoy flailing over all things EO/SVU, come find me at OliviaJRowe.

I'm imagining probably 4-5 chapters for this story and it will all be posted before Fin's actual wedding, the SVU season finale on June 3.

Elliot catches her tearing up toward the end of the wedding ceremony, smiling to himself as he pulls out a small pack of tissues from the inside of his suit jacket. He'd brought them for just such an occasion, and he was a little too pleased about being right.

He nudges her. "Your secret's safe with me," he whispers, sliding them into her hand.

She rolls her eyes, bumping her shoulder against his. "Ass," she mumbles under her breath, surreptitiously picking at the plastic wrapper to make as little noise as possible. "I saw you swipe at your eyes earlier, Stabler."

He shrugs. "Allergies."

She narrows her chocolate brown eyes at him. "You don't have allergies."

Damn, she really does know him so well.

He swipes a hand over his mouth to cover a blooming grin. He will never grow tired of all the walking contradictions that come with Olivia Benson. Tough on the outside, soft on the inside. It's one of the many things he loves most about her.

He drapes a hand over her thigh possessively and that seems to shut her right up — she jerks under his touch and lets out a little gasp that he will definitely be thinking about for the rest of the night.

"You're playing with fire," she sing-songs through gritted teeth, timed with the applause that comes with Phoebe and Fin's first kiss as a married couple.

Elliot smirks. "Oh yeah? How's that?"

But then the pack of tissues falls from her lap to the floor in front of him and then she's leaning over to retrieve them, giving him a very distinct view of her tan cleavage as the move traps his hand between her leg and her chest, lighting him on fire from the inside out.

After she grabs them, she looks over at him on her way back up, a cocky smile on her face as she winks at him. Fuck, she did that on purpose.

"Jesus Christ, Liv," he groans, scrubbing a hand down his face.

She laughs, full and rich, and he wishes he could bottle it up for later. "Two can play this game, baby."

He looks skyward. "It's gonna be a long night."

"It's been 23 years and you can't wait a few more hours?"

He shoots her a knowing glance. "You heard yourself say the first part, right?"

"Chin up, Stabler. I hear there's an open bar at this reception," she says as they rise to their feet for the recessional.

"I'm gonna need it to keep up with you."

"See, you're learning already."

A throat clears behind them. "For the record, you two disgust me," Munch says.

Olivia presses her lips together, eyes sparkling with amusement. "Sorry, John."

She's not and John knows that, but when Elliot turns around to look at the older man, he's smiling at them, waving them off as he trails a few people out of the pew into the bustling aisles.

Olivia snags his hand, tugging him away from their seats. "Let's go, you're buying me dinner."

He chuckles. "Liv, I think the food is also free."

She rolls her eyes. "Elliot, what is Fin doing right now?"

Elliot cranes his neck, looks toward the front of the church to see Fin and Phoebe milling around with the rest of the small bridal party as the photographer sets up her equipment.

"Taking photos?"

"Exactly. Do you know how long those take? It's at least two hours before dinner. I've barely eaten anything today." She pats her stomach.

His hand falls to the small of her back as they trail a few uniforms he recognizes from the 1-6 out the door. "Too nervous about tonight?" he surmises, his mouth brushing against her hair.

She turns her head, and he gets another hint of her light floral perfume — all her — that makes his stomach flip. Her deep brown eyes look up at him with the kind of weight and yearning that leads him to stop dead in his tracks — much to the chagrin, he's sure, of the wedding guests behind him.

"Yes," she rasps, swallowing hard.

God, how he wants to tell her that he loves her again. He promised himself he wouldn't say it again until they were both ready to hear it and this doesn't seem like the most opportune time, but it clogs his throat and burrows itself in his chest.

Soon.

He settles instead for kissing her on the forehead, letting his lips linger along her hairline. "Let's get out of here before we give everyone a show," he murmurs.

Olivia tears into her egg roll with such ferocity that he can't help but laugh at her, which she very much does not appreciate.

She narrows her eyes at him. "Shouldn't you be keeping your eyes on the road, buddy?"

"We're at a red light and I'd rather look at you." It's meant to be teasing, a little sarcastic, but it doesn't quite come out as light as he intended and she flushes under his words.

"Such a line," she says anyway, swiping at the corner of her mouth with a napkin.

He's quiet as he turns back to the busy street in front of him, his foot settling onto the gas as the light turns green again. A few seconds later, he feels her warm hand come to rest on top of his over the gearshift. He smiles to himself as her thumb begins to sweep the back of his hand in soothing, rhythmic motions.

He's been looking forward to this night for a very long time and as much as he can't wait to see how the night plays out in front of them, he's been enjoying the calm, the peace that he feels being by her side like this.

He's not surprised, necessarily. They've always been in sync in so many ways. But they've had so much to work through to come together, obstacles he knows that most people wouldn't be able to overcome.

But they've never been most people. And the relief he feels that they're both on the same page about what this is and where they're headed — it's palpable. He doesn't know how much time he has left on God's green Earth, but he intends to take advantage of every second of it to show her how much she means to him.

How much she deserves.

She's been dealt so many terrible hands over the course of her life, more than ten people combined should have to endure, but if he has any say in it at all, that part of her life is over now. It's so much later than she deserves and he'd be lying if he said that didn't keep him up at night sometimes.

But the knowledge that despite it all, despite everything, that yes, it might be later but it's not too late — it's the thing that gets him out of bed in the morning.

His family — his children, Olivia, Noah — it's everything that keeps him going.

"Thinking pretty hard over there." Her voice snaps him out of his reverie as he turns left onto the street where the reception hall is held.

He shrugs. "Just content. That's all."

Elliot allows himself a long second to take his eyes off the road, just in time to catch the light that blooms across her face, ducking her head as a shy smile crosses her lips. He will never get over the way that this brazen woman can still possibly be shy around him, but it's something he'll never take for granted.

When he turns back to the road, he hears her let out a contented sigh. But he knows them all — has catalogued all the variations over the last 23+ years. And this one?

It's brand new.

She wonders if he's noticed that she seems to be completely dumbstruck tonight. Shy and blushing again like she's a teenager again and not a handful of years away from turning 60. Do they still give out AARP cards to fools in love?

He squeezes her hand in his as they make their way into the reception hall. Fuck, does he know that her gaze immediately flits to his mouth when he does that? She can't imagine she's been conditioned enough for it to be a Pavlovian response after just a couple of hours, but everything inside her is moving at lightning speed after what must be the slowest burn in the history of time.

"Do you know if Fin and Phoebe are doing assigned seating?" Elliot asks, pausing just inside the entryway. Olivia's breath catches in her throat as she takes in the intimacy of the small hall where 75 guests can comfortably fit. The room is bright only with white lights and candles that flicker gently on top of tablecloths decorated with peonies.

It's beautiful. In fact, if she doesn't pull it together, she's going to tear up again. Too many emotions in a single day.

She clears her throat. "I think Fin told me it's open seating."

Elliot points their clasped hands off to a table near the left, not far from the bar. "You feel okay about sitting with Cragen and Eileen?"

Oh.

She bites her lip, thinking it over. She and the Cap have remained close over the years and he reconnected with Elliot when he came back to New York from Italy. Their former boss is certainly not an idiot and Olivia doubts very much that he would be at all surprised by the evolution of their relationship.

But there's still that nagging feeling in the back of her mind that he might entertain the idea that the she and Elliot crossed a line when they were partners. And well, they did in the way that they were far too close for many years, but nothing beyond that.

Still, she counters, Cragen would find out eventually. She's never letting the man beside her get away ever again.

"Hey," Elliot gently interrupts her dizzying thoughts. His hand slides under her hair, drifting to the back of her neck to knead soothingly there. It's been years since the first time he touched her there and it still calms her as much as it did the first time, back to that night in Jersey when he'd just wanted to offer her some comfort when she was lonely and aching for family.

When all along her family had been right beside her.

"If you're not comfortable with it, it's okay. We can sit somewhere else and say hi later," Elliot reassures her.

She shakes her head. "No, it's fine. I'm just overthinking it."

His lips find her forehead for the second time already tonight and she wonders if being able to touch each other like this could ever possibly get old. She has no idea how they've kept their hands off each other for so long.

"Liv, you know the Cap could never possibly be anything but happy for us, right?" he says softly.

She nods. "Yeah."

"Well, happy and ready to kick my ass if I let anything happen to you," he adds lightly.

His joke makes her laugh, the heaviness of the moment slipping away, leaving only warmth behind again. He chuckles too, the vibration of his laugh against her skin thrumming down her veins into her toes.

"Come on, Benson," he says, leaning down to kiss her cheek all too briefly. "They just started serving the rolls and I know you're already hungry again."

Bastard.

Let me know what ya think!

Liv