Bombshell Chapter 3:
I know that this work was kind of a two-shot thing but... I just had to address how they'd interact together afterward and how awfully awkward it would be lol. And I mean HELLA awkward (but they find their groove eventually). After this, I'm moving on to write another chapter for Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow for any Barson fans out there (I've noticed that is more EO imo and Ao3 is more Barson?).
Yes, I know I didn't address the baby thing (or the potential for one). But I wanted to do this first, and tbh it would be too early to know right now, and I didn't want to skip forward because I'd lose out on the opportunity to write all these precious awkward/cute moments.
I think next chapter might entail dealing with the repercussions of their actions, both the possible good and the definite bad.
The Vitamin Shoppe Parking Lot, 3:24 AM.
Olivia's high heels clicked against the damp asphalt surface of the poorly lit parking lot as both detectives weaved through an assortment of cars. They had parked behind a drugstore opposite the Swing Set for the convenience of not having to worry about parking on the street, but Olivia's weary feet threatened to give out soon. The refuge of the Purple Room's soft cushions was reluctantly abandoned hours ago – she simultaneously wanted to stay in her comforting fantasy but desperately needed to escape the suffocating tension – in favor of investigating the case at hand. Casandra's information proved useful but neither detective was in a rush to get back to the precinct and write the incident report.
A breeze whistled through the wind tunnel created by the buildings around them, and their leisurely pace sped up to escape the cold. There were two lampposts meant to illuminate the potentially dangerous area, but their dim light provided little relief. Elliot, who had taken the lead but was careful to make sure his partner was close behind, subconsciously moved nearer to Olivia as they walked. He was careful not to stray too close, however, for fears of imposing on his reserved partner. This didn't stop him from opening the door for her, though. As she lowered herself into the unmarked car and exhaled with relief – her shoes were becoming unbearable – Elliot took a deep breath as he rounded the car and entered the driving seat.
As he started the car and began to maneuver out of the claustrophobia-inducing parking lot, both partners were forced to face the awkwardness of the situation. Elliot desperately wanted to say something, to explain. To tell her what he thought. He could internally admit that part of him wanted to go back, but that small feeling – not exactly regret but rather a cowardly fear of change – was inducing a sense of anxiety that he fought hard to control.
Olivia, too, suddenly lost the ability to smoothly interact with her best friend as the old Crown Vic crawled across New York at a frustratingly slow pace. While Elliot's mind raced and swirled with anxious thoughts, Olivia's mind only partially subscribed to that tension. The other half floated leisurely, indescribable but invaluable. Her mind overloaded with the fear of change like Elliot's, but the thought of the possibilities... guiltily imagining the natural processes that could very well be occurring at this very moment...
Unexpectedly, Elliot's voice snapped her out of her wishful thinking. His decision to speak even surprised himself, but he ached to get rid of the silence that was suffocating his ability to think coherently.
His voice rose with his questioning tone but still maintained its gravelly nature. "For our report..."
Olivia stated her new tale as fact. "We found Casandra at the bar. You talked to her and got the information we needed. Then we left."
That wasn't nearly enough detail to seamlessly and unsuspiciously forge the narrative they were making, but Elliot decided to drop it. Part of him wanted to talk about what had happened. He wanted to know what it means, what it will do to them. He ached to know, needed to put everything out in the open. Still, not a word fell from his lips. Not that he didn't want to press further, exactly, but he didn't want to impose on Olivia if she didn't share his... affections. At least in the emotional sense.
She did, didn't she? After all, he had caught her staring almost as many times as she had caught him. Elliot had told her things he would never dare utter to another role on earth, and vice versa. Although he couldn't be sure, and the doubts were plenty, he could guess. Olivia never really had a serious relationship from the beginning of their partnership; was she waiting for him? Elliot felt a pang of guilt resonate through his chest, partially for his own family but largely the fact that Olivia had waited too long. She was already 42...
He shook the thought from his mind, attempting to dismiss the crushing thought that disrupted many guilty fantasies. Instead, he focused on more optimistic aspects of their dynamic. They were in sync – or at least they were. The real issue, he supposed, wasn't an issue of attraction but an issue of bravery. Of facing change. He'd never thought of taking risks like this before, at least not romantically. He'd never had to wonder if his former romantic partner would say yes, or if she'd be willing to have a family with him. With Kathy, it wasn't much of a choice.
"Elliot!" Olivia's voice resonated throughout the car in sync with the honking horn of the driver behind them. "Are you trying to kill us or something!? Pay attention!"
He mumbled a quick apology and swerved back into his lane before attempting to make his mind blank – something that he likely would have done anyway to distract himself from the thought of his failing (or rather, failed) marriage. Figuring that he could overthink this at home and prevent the rising anxiety that threatened to take hold of his emotions, Elliot gave his full attention to the road ahead. Luckily, this tactic yielded an unexpected benefit as the neon lights of an unfamiliar diner caught his eye.
He flicked on his turn signal before he even asked, already knowing her answer. "Do you want to stop and eat?"
"Absolutely." She looked out the window once more. "I'm starving."
Both partners immediately thought of the physically intensive activities that caused this hunger, but neither mentioned it aloud and they quickly dismissed the intrusive reminder. Elliot maneuvered the car into a tight parking space on the side of the building and, never failing to be a gentleman, approached Olivia's side to open the door for her.
Understanding that physical contact would take it too far, his suit jacket ruffled in the late-night wind as he moved back to make room for her exit. His intent on remaining an altar boy for the rest of the night was interrupted when Olivia's rising body suddenly lurched forward.
She groaned in frustration as her body lightly fell into his. "Damn it!"
Elliot, now steadying her by the elbows, was almost too distracted by the moan-like sound, which traveled directly to his groin, and the close physical contact to think. "You okay?"
Olivia broke the contact and stepped back. "My feet... been wearing these cursed shoes all night..." She didn't let go as she leaned down to take off the buckle. The cushion of the passenger seat compressed under her weight as she sat back down and swung her feet over the side to finish releasing the buckles and take the heels off. "You know how after you finally get a chance to rest and then suddenly getting back up is so much harder..."
Elliot barely managed a weak "Yeah."
As she started to replace the leopard heels with her original grey sneakers, Elliot tried his absolute best not to look at her breasts, which were practically aching to fall out of their confines, as Olivia bent over in the seat. He hardly managed to choke out his agreement with her complaint before the thoughts of her soft flesh, the very same olive skin that he had kneaded in his hands only hours earlier, invaded his mind. Her pink peaks, her moans when he touched them... it was becoming too much.
He turned around to face the dark patch of trees that surrounded the miniature parking lot.
When she finished donning the more comfortable sneakers, Elliot closed the door and walked behind Olivia as she headed to the main door.
His voice cut through the light wind to reach her, even though she was only a few feet away. "Are you cold? You can have-"
"No, I'm good. The fresh air feels nice, actually."
Olivia's voice faltered with doubt as they approached the dingy diner. "We're uh…" Manicured nails motioned to their outfits and Elliot began to chuckle before she even finished. "a little overdressed. And I'm not sure how good the food will be at three in the morning…"
He smiled, although Olivia couldn't see it, at the anticipation of his light teasing. "Well… I guess we're just fashionably late for the dinner rush."
Elliot's playful grin widened as Olivia's stony features cracked and displayed her own amusement. Now that he had stopped walking, Olivia quickly caught up to his position and they walked side by side to the door of the diner.
As the metal door swung open, a semi-brightly lit interior was revealed within. Olivia wasn't sure if the 50s theme and old décor were intentional or products of time, but the two partners quickly escorted themselves to a small retro booth in the corner of the dining area.
As the baby blue plastic cushion let out a huff of air as he sat down, Elliot looked at the other patrons. "It's almost empty in here."
Olivia smiled as she looked around. "It's that perfect time, El. Too late for drunks and too early for morning people."
Before Elliot could agree, they were met by a young college-aged boy with ruffled hair and little apparent care for his job. Olivia figured that he must have been the son of the owner, a rich kid forced to work by his parents, or something along those lines. The striped red and white apron loosely hung, weighed down by the pens in his pocket. The name tag, which was barely visible and smudged with what was probably coffee, told the pair that the kid's name was Jake.
He only looked at Olivia, with a quick flick to her breasts, as he spoke with a smile. "Welcome to Nifty Fifty. How can I help you?"
Elliot spoke louder than usual, annoyed with the boy. The way he looked at Olivia...
"Two lemonades and two coffees. One with a crème and sugar and one with two of each."
Jake lazily walked away with their orders, disappearing behind the counter to fill their drinks up in glass Coca-Cola cups.
Olivia fiddled with her newly polished nails, making sure that the boy was out of earshot before continuing. "You know, I can order for myself. What if I wanted something other than the usual?"
Elliot grinned. "Did you?"
Her eyes shifted to focus on the napkin holder as she tried not to smile. "That's not the point."
Only moments later, Jake returned with their drinks. "What can I get you to eat?"
Elliot smiled at Olivia, silently challenging her previous complaint. Grinning from ear to ear, he ordered for them both once more. Even worse, he got the entire order right down to the way Olivia wanted her egg cooked and the packet of hot sauce that she always wanted. A new reddish tint was visible on her cheeks and chest, but Elliot only mentally catalogued the grateful reaction at his surprisingly heartfelt knowledge rather than playfully gloating.
Elliot's business, however, wasn't finished as the clatter in the backroom reminded him of the way that the boy devoured Olivia's upper half with his eyes. The black coat ruffled softly as Elliot removed it with a sigh of annoyance. "Here. Take my jacket."
"What?"
He didn't break eye contact, slightly shoving the jacket forward in his hand as if to reinforce his point. "It's cold in here."
And Jake can't seem to avert his fucking eyes.
"El." Her reprimanding tone was off-put by the fact that one arm was already through the sleeve. "Seriously? He's a kid."
The smell of his cologne, an unidentifiable but familiar fragrance, made her blush when the black sports coat was finally on. The fabric didn't cover her still-exposed breasts, only her formerly bare arms, but Elliot visibly relaxed. Olivia tried not to blush at the overprotective gesture but was internally grateful.
By the time the hot ceramic plates clattered against the tabletop, both partners had achieved a steady conversation that largely focused on workplace gossip. Neither was in the mood for shop talk but other topics, especially family ones, were off-limits so they reached a compromise. Their voices, which were the only ones in the diner, were at an unrestricted volume due to the lack of audience but subconsciously lowered as the conversation got more interesting.
In between mouthfuls of eggs, Elliot detailed a rumor he heard against a mutually disliked member of the brass. "I heard she's his long-lost cousin."
Olivia looked up from her toast to silently confirm. "No way."
"Yeah." He opened the syrup container and generously dispensed the slow-moving liquid onto his pancakes before continuing with a mischievous grin. "John told me that they got married last year and only found out when they got an Ancestry kit for Christmas. Her mother was kicked out of the family and no one knew that the wife was related. Apparently, they've decided to stay together."
Amused, Liv countered. "Well, Munch isn't the most credible source for conspiracies."
Elliot smiled. He wasn't usually one for workplace gossip, especially rumors that weren't verified, but he was comfortable speculating with Olivia under the assumption of secrecy that was backed by the trust they both shared. "Well, do you believe it?"
She thought about it for a couple of seconds. "Maybe." Her fork picked up yet another piece of Elliot's pancake as she continued to think about the situation. "They're too old to have children anyway, and it's not like they knew about the relation before they got together."
"Yeah, but-"
"Besides, when two people love each other, not much is going to stand in the way."
Elliot's eyes locked on hers, watching the way they wobbled a little as the understanding sank in, before quickly breaking eye contact. The feeling hit him like a truck, a profound sense that simultaneously weighed him down and freed him at the very same time. Realizations, ones that were subconsciously known as fact but previously failed to break through to the surface of conscious thoughts, hit him one at a time.
He'd die for her. He'd do whatever it takes to protect the woman that sat in front of him. The one that was connected to him on a deeper level than any other being on Earth. The one that made him homesick, ironically, when he took more than a day off. Olivia accessed parts of himself, parts of his soul, that he was never able to unlock with anyone else.
I love her.
His gaze, finally breaking away from the intense concentration on her face, looked at the fake ring that still adorned her finger before going back to examine her in a whole new light. He was separated. She was single. They had been fighting these feelings, these ineffable instincts, for years now.
What the hell am I waiting for?
Olivia's coarse voice only partially broke their stream of stray thoughts that threatened to destroy the only boundaries they had left to cling to.
"I didn't mean..." She abandoned her whispered sentence halfway through – her voice cracking with each syllable – figuring that it was worse to verbalize the tension. She sensed the need for immediate redirection and immediately conceded a bit of ground in the argument. Her words, even though they were neutral with no connection to their predicament, were partially restricted by the sudden tightness of her throat. "Staying married to your cousin is a little gross, though."
He wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed that he didn't get the chance to use his voice, given that the following words surely would have detailed his feelings for her. Maybe it would have been better to get it all out in the open. Maybe it would have been relieving to verbalize the tension that had been brewing between them for more than a decade. Apparently, though, that conversation would have to wait.
Silence dominated the entire room, save for the seemingly perpetually-running dishwashers, as the partners defaulted to slowly eating their meals. The lack of conversation was unnerving at first, filled with incomprehensible thoughts, but it gradually shifted into a more comfortable understanding. The repetitive clicks of utensils against plates and the familiar sounds of the cars running in the pitch-black night made the transition easier. Still, at least ten minutes passed before Elliot stopped periodically looking up to see if Olivia would meet his eyes.
Elliot looked up from his plate at the familiar sound of the plastic cushions crunching. He soon realized the culprit was Olivia shifting ever so slightly in her seat for at least the third time since the food had come out. Ignoring it once more, another bite of toast almost reached his lips before it happened again.
Concerned, he inquired. "What's wrong?"
Olivia paused before impulsively deciding to tell the truth. "I'm just... sore. That's all."
What am I doing?
She quickly took another bite of her eggs to fill the immediate silence that followed her rather bold, but true, admission.
A shot of warmth spread through his chest, the fond but terrifying memory sparking mixed feelings in his hesitant heart. He wanted to relive every moment of it, to savor the feeling of her warmth wrapped around his. Equally powerful was the scared, almost nostalgic, feeling that made his throat close. He'd just internally labelled his feelings for her, which was yet another monumental landmark although an intangible one. They'd never be able to go back... but did he even want to? Unlike the previous conclusion, this one did not come to him naturally. Elliot visibly shook his head to rid himself of the confusing thoughts; he was much too tired, hungry, and slightly hungover to contemplate such complexities.
Besides, Elliot, who had as many questions about their future as Olivia did, refused to have such a sensitive conversation at a dingy diner at 4 in the morning. It would have to wait as well.
He redirected, choking out the words and stumbling over every syllable as he did everything in his power not to make eye contact. He knew he didn't fool anyone. "Do you want dessert?"
Despite the reason for her sudden honesty – perhaps it would have been nice to trigger a discussion of their future, but she immediately realized she was much too tired to do it now and regretted her impulsivity – Olivia was grateful for the chance to disregard the statement.
The dress left very little room for movement, especially after a meal, but she cautiously leaned back against the pastel pink backrest cushion. She sighed. "I'm full, actually. And exhausted."
Her partner agreed, leaning back in his seat as well. "I'm only minutes away from taking a nap right here."
Olivia's sleepiness began to get the better of her, creating excuses and forging shortcuts between herself and sleep. "We can brief the Captain and file reports when we get back, right?"
Elliot did the same, too tired to resist the temptation. "Yeah."
"Can you make it back to your apartment?"
His heart nearly stopped in his chest as he realized the deliberate implication of her words. Sleeping over at Olivia's was a challenging feat of self-control even under normal conditions, but with everything that happened tonight... he wasn't sure if he'd be able to keep his hands to himself if it wasn't for the mind-numbing fatigue from partying most of the night.
"I…uh…" Elliot stammered, searching for the right words but finding none. Hell, he didn't even know the right answer to a proposition like this, even an innocent one at that. Finally, he gave in to his lesser nature. "I don't think so."
"My apartment is a block from here." Obviously, he already knew that, but Olivia felt the need to indirectly offer. Still, it required careful wording and she decided to elaborate. "I'm actually in between mattresses right now, but you can sleep on the floor and I'll take the couch." She winked at him playfully, taking amusement in his uncomfortable lodgings.
"I'll take anything." They rose to leave, chuckling when the back of Olivia's legs slightly stuck to the plastic cushioning when she got up. "I'm glad you're finally getting rid of that death trap you call a bed. Remember that one time, after the… uh…"
Olivia's smile widened as she knew exactly what he was referring to. "The Catrona case. With Homicide."
"Yeah, that one." His lips moved slightly upwards as he recalled the full memory. "I took a shower at your place, and when I sat down on the foot of the bed to change my socks that one broken bedspring got me right in the ass."
"I remember," she whispered fondly, trying not to break her still-semi-reserved exterior by actually laughing. It didn't work, though, and the pleasant sound spontaneously echoed against the exterior walls of the diner as they approached the car.
Clearly, she had just remembered something. Elliot playfully challenged her. "What?"
Her laughter, no longer light as she began to further remember the hilarious events that followed, resonated through her diaphragm and flowed past her lips. "You yelped like a kicked puppy."
"Did not!"
"Yeah, okay..." she responded sarcastically; her eyes still scrunched up with the humor of the situation.
Elliot, making up for his louder-than-acceptable playful outburst only moments earlier, stayed silent. The exhaustion set in once more, coursing through every muscle until his body threatened to collapse. Still, his eyes never wavered, only wrinkling with humor as well until he took in every ounce of the brown orbs in front of him.
Olivia's Apartment, 4:58 AM.
To say that they barely made it through to the apartment was an understatement. Both partners barged through the door after struggling with the key, tired and ready to sit down. Elliot was suddenly more grateful that he had agreed to sleep over tonight, even on the floor, as he doubted that he'd stay awake long enough to crash at his own place. Not that he wanted to, either. It was depressing to stay by himself in a dull, empty place that reeked of lifelessness.
"I'm going to go get some pillows and blankets." She went as far as the bedroom door before turning half-around. "Feel free to make yourself at home."
Olivia would have reminded him about the beer in the fridge, but she knew he was already very familiar with the inside of her apartment and both of them were much too fatigued to drink anyway. Returning to the living room only seconds later, taking a moment to look at her empty mattress-less bedspring frame first, she placed one pillow on the couch and two others on the floor. He got the gray blanket, a rather soft one, while Olivia moved her emerald green comforter from her now disassembled bed to the couch.
Elliot moved from his position on the couch to let Olivia take her place on the worn but comfortable brown cushions, rising slowly and begrudgingly to reach the light switch on the wall near the breakfast bar. The automatic nightlights turned on as the larger source of light disappeared, temporarily disorienting their eyesight while their eyes adjusted to the new darkness.
The absence of light somehow required voices to be at whisper level. "Do you want some pajamas? I think I have some old sweatshirts of yours and you can borrow some oversized sweatpants."
Elliot nodded in response and Olivia brought out his clothes while retreating to the bedroom to get changed herself. Extra careful to put her underwear aside, as to not further soil the other dirty clothes with semen, Olivia donned a navy-blue pair of silk pajamas. She looked at the bathroom door with want, but her eyes were already forcing themselves shut and she was confident that although needed, taking a shower right now just be another physical burden. The newly unpackaged pink slipper socks squished the carpet underneath almost silently as she slowly trudged towards the door.
By the time that she had emerged from the bedroom, Elliot had already changed and taken his place on the floor. Luckily, the shag carpet provided enough cushion, and the weary detective couldn't help but savor the residual smell of Olivia on the gray blanket she provided him.
Olivia took her place on the couch, drawing the blanket up over her back as she twisted to lay on her stomach. Elliot, on his back, stared at Olivia's softened features, fully aware that she was watching him. It was peaceful. Silent. Comforting.
He didn't move, hesitant to break eye contact. "Goodnight, Liv."
Olivia watched his blue orbs fight to stay open. She wearily smiled, blushed even, at his refusal to fall asleep before she did. "Night, El."