A/N: The term for rebuilding or fortifying something is "Accretion," the opposite of erosion. Yes, they can occur simultaneously.
DISCLAIMER: SVU and all related plot/characters originally belong to Dick Wolf. This story, words, and dialogue are mine. © TStabler
They haven't even been in the bar for ten minutes and Elliot has already watched three guys hit on Olivia. He's watched her turn them down, heard them beg, listened as she refused again, and he's not sure if he should be more flattered, proud, or pissed off. When another guy in ripped jeans heads in their direction, he leans over and grabs Olivia's chin with one hand, squeezing and pulling her toward him for a hot, sloppy, whiskey induced kiss.
She chuckles knowingly against his lips, and when she moves back, she brushes her nose against his and says, "Were you this possessive of…"
"Hell no," he says flatly, refusing to let her say the name of his ex. "I wasn't afraid of losing her." He kisses her again, softly and slowly.
On the other side of him, his friend Matt is nursing a bottle of Budweiser as he flirts relentlessly with Olivia's friend Stephanie. She's wearing her Cowboys warm up uniform and it's not leaving much to the imagination at all. Matt, in a leather bomber jacket, doesn't seem to mind.
Olivia drapes an arm around Elliot's shoulders as she spies her friend giggling and grabbing at Matt. She turns to Elliot and whispers, "She likes him." Uninterested in his reply, she drops her lips to his neck and kisses softly before she sinks her teeth into his skin.
"Fuck," he hisses, "You're playing with fire, Benson." He chuckles when she mumbles that she's in the mood for third-degree burns, and he slaps her ass hard. Stoke the flames. Gripping, he pulls her further into his lap, and he can practically feel the three rejected college guys staring at the overt display of lustful abandon. "Don't leave any marks where Cragen's gonna see 'em," he warns, but it's half-hearted. He loves the way she bites and suckles on him.
She pulls away only long enough to say, "Wear a turtleneck," and then bends her head to resume nipping and marking him. You're only marking your territory. Hearing him moan, feeling his hands on her body, makes her more voracious and she bucks against him, her short dress too thin to keep her from feeling how hard he is under his jeans. She moans and rocks again.
"Christ, Olivia," Stephanie laughs, shaking her head, "You two need to get a room." She drops her hand low onto Matt's belt and tugs it once. "Fast."
Without stopping what she's doing, Olivia raises one hand and gives her friend the finger, then sinks her teeth into Elliot's neck a bit harder as she grinds her hips against his.
"She's right," Elliot grunts, both hands holding her waist. "Unless you want me throw you down on the bar and fuck you in front of all these people." Slapping her ass again, he grunts once. "Because I will, don't fucking tempt me."
Tony, another of Elliot's Marine buddies, strolls up to the group, stopping them from making what would be an almost illegal move. He clears his throat and smacks each of his friends in the back of the head. Matt punches him in the arm, but Elliot hasn't even noticed, he's resumed kissing Olivia madly. "Damn, Stabler," Tony chuckles, noticing why his attempt at getting attention has been ignored. He signals the bartender then pulls on his green camo jacket. "Guys, uh...something I gotta tell you."
The tone of his voice sends chills down Olivia's spine and she pries herself away from Elliot's throat to look over at him. The way he's slightly slumped over tells her that whatever the news is, it's not good.
Sensing the sobriety of the moment, Elliot looks over at his friend, clears his throat, and tries to calm himself down. He smoothes a hand down Olivia's back as he blinks once and asks, "What's wrong?"
After ordering a bottle of Blue Moon, Tony looks at Matt, then Elliot, then he sighs. "I'm shipping out in the morning." He takes his beer from the bartender with a nod, then holds it up. "I'll be gone for a year, so, uh, let's make tonight unforgettable." He turns and taps the neck of his bottle against Matt's, then clinks the butt of it on the side of Elliot's mug of craft lager. "Cheers," he sips long and hard.
"Shit, man," Elliot leans back and sinks low, recalling a time when he would have had the same orders, when he would be preparing to leave his life behind, too. "Yeah," he nods and wraps a hand around his mug.
Tony shakes his head and slaps his chest once. "Semper Fi," he spits out, lifting his bottle again.
At the same time, Elliot and Matt raise their drinks and give a low, throaty, "Ooh-rah!" They sip, each man downing his whole drink in one long gulp. When the glasses hit the bar, they all bow their heads and make the sign of the cross, Tony clutching his dog tags in his hand as it moves.
"Where ya going, man?" Matt asks, his arm drapes over Stephanie's lap and his hand curls over her right knee. He, too, knows the pain of leaving everything at the drop of a hat and risking his life for his country. He eyes Tony, and suddenly he's thankful he got out when he did.
"Kuwait," Tony spits, then he grabs another beer as it's offered to him. He sips, swallows, and says, "Can't tell you why, though." He tries to smile as he turns to Elliot. "They, uh, classified this one." One hand slaps down on Elliot's shoulder and he squeezes as he says, "Like your last ride."
Elliot stiffens and his skin flushes. Without speaking he grabs Olivia's beer and gulps half of it down, hoping the alcohol will blur the rekindled memory from another life. "Shit," he huffs, "You know, we're here for you, man." He closes his eyes and he exhales harshly. "Once a marine, always a marine."
Olivia turns her head, looking from Tony to Elliot, and fear grips her heart suddenly, her blood runs cold, her body freezes. "Nicky," she calls and spins around fast, leaning far over the bar and grabbing a set of keys off of a small hook, "No one goes in the back, tonight." She meets her friend's eyes. "Get me?"
Nicky looks at her; he knows what the emotion in her eyes is, and he nods. "Okay," he says to her, and before he can blink, he's watching his best friend pull her boyfriend off of the stool and through the bar, toward a room he never uses. "Fuck," he sighs on a sad laugh, knowing that she's in over her head and hoping it doesn't blow up in her face.
Across the room, Olivia tugs Elliot along, jamming the key into the lock and opening the door one-handed so she can keep hold of him. Once she gets him into the room, she kicks the door shut and throws herself against him.
He can't understand what she's saying but she feels her lips moving as she kisses his chin and neck. "Liv," he moans, wrapping a fist in her hair. He pulls hard once, forcing her head back and her eyes up. "What? What did you say?"
She shakes her head and shoves her hands up under his shirt. Her nails drag over his tensing muscles and her body throbs when she feels his pecs twitch under her touch. "I don't wanna think about…" she shuts herself up, knowing how ridiculous she sounds, realizing she was in diapers when he was in the Corps. He needs to make you forget. In an attempt to ignore it, to push away thoughts of him all alone in the middle of the desert, she pulls on his belt and shoves at the denim beneath it.
He grabs her fast, his palms on either side of her face. "Calm down," he whispers, but his attempts at keeping her still are fruitless. She's not okay. He grunts when she manages to shove his pants down around his hips and he moans when her left hand wraps itself around his stiffened cock. "What's gotten into you?"
"Could've been you," she breathes, stroking him with one hand as the other grips his arm. You didn't even know him, then. She presses herself into him and buries her head in the crook of his neck. "You had to fight to get out, they didn't want to let you go, you could be the one..."
"I'm not," his voice croaks as he interrupts her, his senses muddling together. The way she's jerking him causes hot waves of pleasure to course through him, but the desperation in her rough kisses stirs up his own anxiety. Wrapping his arms around her, he whispers, "I'm right here," and then drags his hands down her body to pull her short blue dress up. Promise her. When he feels her skin under his fingers he moans again. "Not going anywhere," he says softly, then toys with the elastic of her underwear.
Her teeth find his lower lip and she nips and pulls, gasping loudly when he tears the silk away from her with a grunt. "Elliot," she moans, as his left hand creeps between her legs.
He strokes her slowly, chuckling at how wet she is already, and he kisses her once before he says, "I'm not fucking you agaisnt the wall this time." Before she can fight or protest, he lifts her off of her feet and carries her to the couch. Make more of this. When he tosses her down, he kicks away his shoes and shoves off his jeans, then smiles down at her. "They were in the way."
She bites her lip as he falls onto her, and her eyes close when he finds her entrance and pushes his way into her. Nails claw at his shoulder blades, feet lock around the backs of his legs, his name falls from her lips like a prayer. You prayed for him. As incredible as he feels inside of her, thoughts still drift to the could have beens, what might have happened if he re-enlisted instead of making the jump from marine to cop. He wouldn't be here. Inhaling, she bucks upward to meet his thrusts, grips him tighter, and lets herself revel in him. But he is. He's here, in your arms.
Grunting, he slams his body down, deep into hers, and kisses her fiercely. He can already feel her tightening and it's an unexpected, unfamiliar grip, as if she's trying to pull him in further and lock him in place. "Fuck, baby," he seethes, the pressure too great for him to thrust. Bending forward, he captures her lips and catches the guttural scream of his name that flies from her throat as she cums. "Fucking fast," he spits with a chuckle, but then his eyes find hers as she opens her red andpained eyes, and he knows. God, he knows.
She holds him tightly as he slows his pace, lowers himself more, and her arms wrap even further around him. Her legs and thighs tighten and the tears are fighting for release as her second orgasm builds. Kissing him, she claws at his back as she moves her hands up behind his head. As the hot droplets roll down her cheeks, it hits her that she could just as easily lose him now, his job is risky, he is in just as much danger in New York as he would be on the other side of the world, and her heart hammers so strongly she is certain he can feel it against his own chest. This is why she chose a career that was supposed to keep her isolated, why she'd always tried so hard to avoid complicated relationships and why she usually veers away from emotional commitment. He's worth it. He's so fucking worth it. Her fingers curl and her nails pierce the skin of his neck as she tries to forgive herself for making a monumental mistake, at the same time promising to be his protector in the field so she will never know the pain of losing him.
"God, Liv," he groans, rolling his eyes and neck at the way she tightens again. He feels her pulsing and drops his head, opens his eyes, and then moves slowly, kissing away any tears he can find and when he whispers, "I love you," she looks back at him and smiles. You need her, for fuck's sake. Curling his body, he begins to thrust in slow, hard, powerful rams, getting as deep as he can. "Look at me," he demands, just as her eyes start to close. He moves his arms, grips her shoulders and neck, and presses his forehead to hers.
Their eyes are open and locked as he speeds up slightly. Moans and hard breaths cloud the air around them and he slams into her harder the more she clenches. "Come on, baby," he whispers. "You're so fucking beautiful, you looks so fucking sexy right now." He kisses her, running his tongue over hers, swallowing a yell of his name. Bring her over the edge. Thrusting faster, he trails one hand down her side and slips it between their working bodies.
"Oh, my God," she cries, feeling his thumb flicking over her clit. Heat courses through her, every muscle seizes, and her head drops back as the release rips through her. White light burns behind her closed eyelids and she screams his name in a way she never has.
"Fuck," he growls, then crashes his lips into hers again to muffle his own loud grunts and quiet her cries. With only one final thrust, he shoots into her, hot and wild, the muscles in his stomach and back clenching and releasing in arrhythmic patterns.
The kiss calms as their bodies slow and still. When they quiet, their labored breathing and smacking lips the only sounds, their fingers lace together tightly. Languidly, they remain locked, until he moves back only enough to speak. "I'm right here," he tells her.
"I know," she exhales, kisses her again, and wraps her hands around the sides of his face. "I love you." As she kisses him once more, another question forms on the back of her tongue, one she doesn't want to ask but needs the answer to. Before she can speak it, a loud, terrifying scream filters into the room from out in the bar. She gasps and he yanks her off of the couch.
As he pulls up his pants and shoves his feet back into his shoes, she straightens out her dress, and together they run from the back room toward the sounds of screaming and crying. "Steph," he says on a choked gasp, seeing the beautiful redhead sobbing into Matt's chest. "What happened?"
Stephanie doesn't even look up. She just points toward the bathroom door and lets another hard cry loose into Matt's neck.
Elliot looks at Olivia, wishing he would have been his usual overprepared self and grabbed his gun and badge. Cringing at the knowledge that they're both unarmed, he steps up closer and nods at her.
Holding her breath, Olivia steps forward and pushes on the bathroom door. For a moment, she remembers a much different reason for being in the tiled room. Pushing the erotic memory away, she steps in further and looks around the bend toward the first stall, and her eyes close. Her shoulders drop. "El," she sighs, "Call Rodgers." When she opens her eyes, he's by her side with his phone in his hand. Both of them are staring at the lifeless, naked, broken body of one of the cocktail waitresses. "And Cragen."
While Elliot calls in, his eyes are on Olivia. She's wrapped her left hand in paper towel and is hunched over the body. Her dress is riding up, revealing just a bit of bare skin, her underwear is laying on the carpet in the back room, torn and useless; her heels accentuate the tones muscles in her legs and because he's not completely sober, he has to force himself to focus on the situation and not her ass. "Mace," he says into the phone, "Thirty-five West Eighth Street. He hangs up and says, "Rodgers is on the way. So's a local unit. Shit, what do I tell Cragen?"
"You were here with your friends," she speaks coldly. "Saying goodbye to Tony. I'm here with the girls. Total coincidence." She looks at him. "I'm sure everyone here will back us up." Tossing the rolled up paper towels into a nearby trash can, she says, "Ligature marks. Rope or thick chain."
"Cap," he says into the phone, and he grabs Olivia and pulls her along as he leaves the bathroom. He stands in front of the door and eyes Tony and Matt as he says, "We got a body at a bar. Obvious sexual assault and...no, I was just here with…" he inhales once then closes his eyes. "Some friends, uh...the girl who found the vic is a friend of Benson's. Yeah, yeah she is, it was a surprise, that's for sure." He tries to laugh and he makes sure that the group of friends understands what he's asking of them. "Already called Rodgers, but you...should send in Jeffries and Munch. I'm off the clock, I've been drinking and Liv looks like she knocked back a few. Right. Thanks." He hangs up and says, "Look, you guys, we aren't really…"
"We're not gonna say anything," Matt interrupts. "I'm gonna take her outside." he drops his head and whispers something to Stephanie. "I think she needs some air." He keeps a hold on Stephanie as he leads her through the bar.
Olivia looks at Elliot then, and because she knows she won't be able to for a while, she kisses him. "I'll let Nicky know he's gotta keep everybody here for questioning, tell him what's happening." She exhales. "And then I'll ask him for the security footage." When his eyes go wide, she shakes her head. "The camera aims down the hall, doesn't get the back room, no one watching it will see us, relax." She squeezes his arm, kisses him again, and then heads off to talk to her friend about the very sharp and dark turn the night has taken.
Elliot looks at Tony and says, "You said you wanted this night to be unforgettable." He chuckles and then mumbled a curse to himself. Running back into the small apartment in the back, he picks Olivia's torn underwear up off the floor, quickly straightens the cushions on the couch, then grabs the keys and locks the door behind him. He shoves the ripped silk into his pocket and chuckles at the look his friend is giving him. "Don't ask."
Tony walks with Elliot back into the main room of the bar, seeing Nick and Olivia spacing people out and moving tables away from the hallway, claiming that there is a plumbing and electrical issue. "So this thing with you and the co-ed," he says, jutting his chin toward Olivia, "Is it serious? Or are you just getting back into the swing of things after your failed marriage?"
"Twenty years," Elliot sighs, "Four kids. We didn't fail, we outgrew each other." Then he smiles. "And yeah, me and Liv. It's...serious." He bites his lip as his eyes meet hers. "I didn't realize how serious it was until tonight. She's…" he looks at his friend and puts his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "I've never felt anything like what I feel for her, with anyone," he shrugs and his face falls into a genuinely confused expression. "I can't figure it out, I can't explain it, but from day one...yeah, I wanted to fuck her, but I also wanted to protect her...love her." Shaking his head with his lip between his teeth, he looks away from Tony and back to Olivia, who's lost in conversation with Nick. "She's made me realize that I've never really been in love before, not like this. I loved Kathy, I did, but this is...so much more intense." He rubs his forehead, licks his lips, and asks, "What time do you have to be on base? These guys…" he points to the door as the medical examiner comes in, followed by two uniformed officers, Munch, and Jeffries. "They need to ask you some questions."
"Hold onto her," Tony says, slapping Elliot in the arm. "She makes you feel the way you say she does, you can't risk losing her." He eyes Nick and says, "Do what you gotta do, man. You wanna keep her, tell her." He nods and clears his throat. "Introduce me to these cops, I gotta get back and...pack."
Elliot leads his friend over to Munch and explains his situation, and once the questioning is underway, he moves toward Olivia. His smile grows, then fades, seeing Cragen walking through the doors. Stopping, he notices the way his captain is looking at his partner, the curious grin he gives Nick, and he realizes that Cragen must be assuming the worst. "Cap!" He yells and waves a hand, and as Cragen walks toward him, it hits him that he's in the middle of a full on investigation. He knows that he's going to be questioned, so is Olivia, and when they're asked about the most crucial moments of the night, they won't have answers. They have no idea what happened, because they were having intensely passionate and desperate sex in a seedy room. He know they're in deep shit, he doesn't have too many options, but it seems fate has dictated the way he has to act. He looks at Cragen and tries to smile. "Listen," he sighs and scratches his chin, "Me and Liv…"
"She told me," Cragen holds up both hands before tugging on the cuffs of his brown trench coat. "You two didn't see anything because you were back there in the bartender's apartment." He narrows his eyes and flattens his smile.
Elliot coughs and nods, his heart hammers in his chest. "Yeah, but why are you…" he coughs again. "I thought you'd be pissed off, you're…"
"She had a rough, emotional day," Cragen interrupts. "I'm not surprised she broke down, and she told me you saw it happening, knew she wouldn't want her friends to see her cry because you knew she didn't want to explain anything to them." He nods and folds his arms. "Finally got a partner you understand and you look out for each other. I'm glad you got her calmed down." He looks toward the bathroom. "Just wish that you two picked a different bar, tonight."
Relaxing, Elliot nods and lets out a small, breathy chuckle. "So do I, believe me." He turns and looks at Olivia. Tony's words ring in his ears. "You need us to do anything?"
"Give your statements to Munch and Jeffries," Cragen says, nodding, "Then go home. You weren't catching tonight, I'm not changing that." He pats Elliot's shoulder and moves toward the bathroom to meet up with the medical examiner.
Elliot walks backward, then, slowly turning around, then finally picks up his pace and moves over to Olivia. "Nice save," he whispers. "He bought it, but won't the other guys…" he sees the look she's giving him; he knows their friends are going to say the same thing, cover for them, and he hopes the slight proffering of misinformation isn't enough to blow the case or land them in any kind of trouble. You can't afford to make mistakes. "We're okay," he runs a hand down her arm discreetly. "Cragen wants us to give them our statements, we aren't working this one."
"Guy in the corner," Olivia says, slightly turning her head, "Has a thick chain around his neck. Looks like it's got blood on it." She folds her arms. "Go tell Munch, the sooner we get this over with…"
"Right," he whispers something to her, then nods at Nick, and he heads toward Jeffries and Munch, hoping that this doesn't take long and praying that by the time they get home, he hasn't lost his nerve and will be able to take Tony's advice, and tell Olivia the truth.
About everything.
A/N: A heavy conversation and a night of discovery. Next.