A/N: Your life is a reflection of how effectively you balance potential and kinetic energy.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the show or the characters, but, oh, how I wish I did.

March 28th, 3:33 AM

As Olivia swallowed the bitter mouthful of her decaf latte, she closed her eyes and thought back to the moment her phone rang. After the incredible night they'd had, it had been so much harder to pull away from Elliot. For the first time in her life, she'd fallen asleep with a man she loved, still inside of her, after hours of intense lovemaking. Although the unwelcome phone call interrupted the most restful sleep she'd had in years, she'd woken up happy in his arms. She smiled against the rim of her foam cup, letting the warmth seep into her palms as she held it, remembering how he'd kissed her so deeply the moment he became conscious, morning breath ignored or unnoticed. With another sip, another swallow, she let herself admit that what had happened between them was life-altering.

Something had shifted. It was clear from the moment they'd woken up, evident in the profound intimacy that followed them out of the bed, into a shared shower. Their slow kisses had held more power, the tenderness in each and every touch held more weight. What they'd shared was not sex, but something much more sacred and all-consuming.

Her eyes opened when she felt the heat of his body radiating against her back. She took another sip of her coffee, which was not serving any purpose at all. "What'd she say?" she asked him, turning her head to look over her shoulder at him. The brighter blue of his eyes struck a chord within her. She'd watched them change, knew the exact moment the hue had turned, and she knew what it meant. Briefly, she wondered if it would ever fade, then silently promised to prevent it from ever happening. Returning his warm gaze, she smacked the back of her hand into his shoulder. "Work," she reminded him.

His eyes widened slightly as his brow knitted and his lips and chin twitched. "Right," he cleared his throat and took a long gulp of his own coffee, also decaf, in solidarity with his partner. "Warner thinks this is just a body dump," he sighed, "Petichial hemorrhaging, uh, she was strangled or suffocated, and she had cotton and feathers in her mouth. Unless there's a bed back there, she wasn't killed in the alley."

"Someone held a pillow over her face," Olivia spoke, and then she narrowed her eyes. "She say if she found any…"

"It's three in the morning," he interrupted with a crooked smile. "The only other thing the woman said to me was that if we woke her up this early again, she'd shove a pillow down my throat, too." They shared a laugh, then he grimaced as he downed the rest of his coffee. "She'll tell us everything once she gets back to the lab, does three shots of espresso, and gets the girl on her table." He looked down at the sealed evidence bag in his hand. "For now, we go back to the station, see if we can find out what this means." He handed her the bag, then let his eyes drop to her neck.

As though she could feel him staring, she hummed once and twisted the bag in her hand as she said, "Trust me, I know what the one around my neck means. No question." She smiled as she raised her chin slightly and looked back at him. "No doubt about it," she chuckled. Then, waving the bagged necklace at him, she said, "It's Sanskrit."

"What?" He nudged her elbow and gave her a small shove toward his truck. "What's it say?"

"I have no idea," she huffed with a wide-eyed grin. "I know what language it is, but I didn't say I could read it." She shook her head at him as she laughed again and got into the passenger side. As she closed the door, she grinned at his surprised expression. She loved how there was still so much they didn't know about each other, so many surprises still in store for them. She ran a hand over her green top, biting her lip. Events from the night rolled like Thirty-Five Millimeter film in her mind. They'd spent hours in bed, exploring each other, pushing limits, discovering how and where to touch each other, learning kinks and erogenous zones, loving each other to the very depths of their souls.

He heard her moan softly, noticed her hand splayed over her stomach, and he grinned. "Yeah," he said as he pulled the shift into reverse. "I can't stop thinking about it either," he confessed on a gravelly whisper. Driving onto the main road, he cleared his throat and licked his lips. "Nothing has ever…" he paused, pressed his lips together, and inhaled. "It's never been anything like that, before, ya know? Am I even making sense?" He laughed at himself, slapping the blinker and turning the wheel.

"Perfect sense," she whispered to him, reaching over and scraping her nails through his short hair. She wondered what would happen if she let her fingers drop a bit, if she grazed them over the thin skin behind his ear, which she discovered drove him absolutely crazy, but she thought better of it. The last thing she needed was him being frustrated and on edge during a case that was already giving her a headache. She dropped her hand back into her lap and exhaled slowly, calming herself down. "Exactly how I feel."

He smiled and turned the wheel again, then cupped his right hand over her left knee. "I'm serious," he told her softly. "It was the most completely emotional...physically incredible…" he blew a puff of air through his flattened lips, making them bubble. Chuckling he said, "I swear, it'll be that way, every night, for the rest of our lives." He shook his head as she laughed with him. "No matter what."

Nodding, she scraped her teeth over her lower lip and closed her eyes. "I believe you," she whispered. Flashes of his naked body working into hers filled the space behind her lids, she could almost feel him thrusting, slow and deep, then rough and fast. She heard his voice so clearly in her ears, whispering soft confessions of love and need, cursing violently, offering vulgar blasts of eroticism she knew he'd never said to anyone else. Then she remembered the tears, how they'd kissed and wiped each other's away, the bittersweet ending of the most passionate and primal moments of her life. She thought about how they'd fallen asleep after making yet another promise to each other, then vowing to keep it. Opening her eyes, she noticed the car had stopped, parked in the station lot, and he was staring over at her with an expression that held a small snip of every emotion she'd been dreaming about. "I love you," she whispered, though it wasn't at all what she'd meant to say.

"God, I love you, too," he returned, then leaned across the car and kissed her slowly, deeply, giving her lips a slight nip and letting out a rumbling growl. "Fucking...damn job…" he mumbled, pulling away from her. He grabbed his nearly empty coffee cup, grumbled something under his breath, and then got out of the car. Looking around, he sighed. Buds on the ends of the trees signaled the coming of spring and the severe allergies it would bring with it. Chuckling at the thought of forcing cold medicine down Olivia's throat, he shot his gaze upward. No birds were chirping or squawking overhead, a sign of just how early it truly was, but the purple sky was too beautiful to be ignored. "Hey, come here for a minute."

Olivia walked around the back of the car, strode up to him, and tilted her head. "What?"

Peering down at her, his heart stopped, his stomach lurched. He was brought back to a moment, only a couple of weeks ago, where she'd given him the same expression, held her coffee in the same exact way, after a date had been cut short by an eerily similar case. Shaking the painful memory away, he swallowed, then wrapped an arm around her. "I didn't want to ignore this," he whispered, and then he leaned back against the car, holding her against him, and looked back up at the sky. "Don't get to see the stars too often around here."

She grinned as she felt his lips pressing to the back of her head. "This is a side of you I never thought I'd see," she hummed, sinking into him. Her eyes followed the patterns of stars as his left hand ran up and down her arm.

"This is a side of me that didn't even exist three weeks ago," he whispered to her, his mouth only a breath away from her right ear. "I had no desire to look up at the stars, I mean, shit, I never really noticed them at all…" he dropped a kiss to her neck. "Until that night in Jersey." He kissed her chin. "God, I wanted to pull you out into the back, throw you in that boat, and just...sail around in the moonlight." He laughed as he shrugged and said, "You, uh, you brought out the romantic in me, Benson. Be prepared," he leaned closer and whispered with a growl, "You created a monster."

Laughing as he bit her shoulder, she let herself moan once and then sigh. "So did you," she told him. "You think I'd be stargazing in a parking lot with anyone but you?" She turned around, slipped her right hand down the front of his grey shirt, and whispered, "Last night was…"

The shrill sound of Elliot's phone burst into her words. He rolled his eyes, kissed her forehead, and then dug around in his pocket for his cell. Finding it, he screwed up his face and answered the call with a sharp, "Stabler." He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, we're here, actually. Coming in now. What's the rush? We don't even have a solid ID on the…" his eyes went wide, and he gave Olivia a swift knee to the ass and jerked his head forward. "Right, Cap," He hung up and led the way through the front doors. "Two things," he said, answering the question on Olivia's face. "One, bomb squad did a sweep an hour ago, found two more charges, like the one that went off in Narco, one was down in Homicide, and one was…" he took a deep breath as they slipped through the security gate. "Under Munch's desk." He rubbed his eyes and shook away another dark memory he wished he didn't have to live with, "Then he said Warner called, she ran the vic's prints in the van with the PAFIS." He lowered his voice as he guided Olivia toward the stairs. He waited until they were halfway up the first flight, then told her, "Her name's Allyson Denning. And her sister, Myra, is on her way to the morgue to identify the body."

"Oh, my God," Olivia whipped, stunned. "We can't take this case! That woman tried to crucify you, you have to…"

"That's why Cragen called me," Elliot sighed, then he started running up the steps, along the way he drank what was left of his coffee and tried to calm himself down. "She, uh, you know she issued a retraction and public apology after that whole...thing." He exhaled as he pushed open the door to their floor, holding it for Olivia.

"Yeah," she snapped, "Doesn't mean shit, Elliot! She has it in for you, for both of us, now we have to…" she paused, blinked once, and then one brow rose on its own. "You don't think it was Polikoff," she breathed.

Elliot shrugged as he tossed the empty cup into the closest garbage can. "Might've been," he said quietly. "Revenge for destroying the man's entire life, family, career, getting him locked up for three years," he spoke as he pulled his jacket off and kicked the squadroom doors open. Again, he held them for Olivia, smiling at her slightly when she looked into his eyes. "Could be."

Smiling back, she nodded once at him and then dropped her coffee cup into the bin near her desk. As she pulled off her brown leather jacket, she looked around, noticing stacked boxes, moved furniture, and Munch's upside-down desk. "Cap?" she called, then as soon as the older man turned away from the conversation he was having with another cop, she asked, "What the hell happened in here?"

Cragen moved, folding his arms. "All hell broke loose," he answered with a heavy breath. "Carter found a small incendiary device under Munch's desk, then started pulling the place apart looking for other ones. He's done with your desks, and Fin's, but he's been pulling open every filing drawer and cabinet for the last two hours." He rubbed his forehead. "Bomb down in Homicide was a lot bigger, would have caused half the building to go up if it had gone off." He looked at Elliot and said, "Tucker is trying to get security footage from the past few days, and I know this isn't what either of you needs, right now, but it is what it is."

"Where's John?" Elliot asked, pulling on the sleeves of his grey shirt. He let his eyes flicker over to Olivia, smirking at the fact that her v-neck shirt was the same shade of green as his tie. Catching himself, he dragged his attention back to Cragen. "Is he okay?"

Nodding, Cragen dropped his arms. "Still home, just fine. But he's pissed that it's the second time this year someone tried to blow his ass up," he scoffed. "Even though, the first time...he wasn't…"

"We know," Olivia closed her eyes and leaned back against her desk. "Reason he's asking...Cap, we can't work this case. Vic's sister was…"

"I know who she is," Cragen interrupted, and he shot Elliot a hard look before softening his glare and looking back at Olivia. "Personal feelings and professional history aside, the woman requested the two of you before she knew you had it anyway. She trusts you, because even though she...did what she did...the two of you still fought for her, and that meant everything to her. Just...do your jobs." He looked at Elliot. "We don't get to…"

"I know, I know," he rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes and stifled a yawn. "Don't have to say that anymore, we get it." He blinked and rolled his neck, then checked his watch. His kids were home, in bed, which is where he so desperately wanted to be, with Olivia. "Fuck," he mumbled, finally giving in to the exhaustion and yawning.

Cragen cringed at the word that had flown out of Elliot's mouth, but he let it slide, knowing the hour of day and circumstances merited the gruff language. "I'll make a pot of coffee," he said, "You two, get to work."

Olivia watched him walk toward the back of the room and start scooping stale coffee grounds into the filter-lined pot. "Well," she sighed, plopping into her chair, "At least you'll be able to…"

"All we have is decaf," Cragen yelled, shaking his head. "Could've sworn we had regular around here somewhere."

Elliot grinned smugly as he dropped down into his own seat and shot Olivia a wink. "Couldn't have a pot full of swill back there just taunting the fuck out of you, could we?" He reached over and grabbed the evidence bag. "Sanskrit, you said?"

Humming affirmatively, she swiveled around in her chair and turned on her computer. "Very distinctive formation and script, it was obvious." She held her hand out expectantly.

Slapping the bag down into her open palm, he licked his lips. "Yeah, obvious, if you speak nine languages and read six more."

She shook her head as she took out her phone and snapped a picture of the gold pendant in the bag. "Told you I can't…"

"And recognize the rest of them," he added before she could finish. "You're brilliant, you know that? Absolutely brilliant." He leaned back and wagged his eyebrows at her. "One of the million reasons I love you."

"Please," a cold voice from behind him said, "Don't list the other nine-hundred-and-ninety-nine-thousand-nine-hundred-and-ninety-nine." The woman shivered and added, "Don't have that kind of time or that strong a stomach."

"What the hell are you doing here," Elliot crowed, narrowing his eyes at Casey Novak.

Novak looked at him, shifted her weight, and then gave him a crooked smile. "Nice to see you do own a suit," she joked, and then she eyed Olivia. "I got a call from sergeant Tucker. He told me your victim's sister was the plaintiff in one of my cases. Called me in on it because they could be related."

Olivia rolled her eyes and folded his arms. "We don't know that," she said. "We don't know much of anything. We know who she is, who her sister is, and that she was getting married." She nodded toward her computer. "The charm on her necklace," she tossed it back over to Elliot. "It says 'bride," she said with a tilt of her head.

Elliot immediately hunched over and started typing. "I'll look up her social media accounts, see who her groom-to-be is, maybe he got cold feet."

"Before you fall down the rabbit hole of Hot CoEd Instagram," Novak inserted, stepping forward, "Can we talk?" She drove her eyes down his body again, taking in the way his suit clung to his muscles, how broad his body was. Licking her lips, she walked forward again. "Alone?"

"Look around," Elliot returned, scrolling through photos and messages on the victim's Facebook page. "This is alone as we're gonna get. You, me," he nodded once, "And Liv." He clicked on a name and then spun around in his chair. "Say what you're gonna say."

Novak glanced at Olivia, trying to ignore the glare on her face, and then slowly exhaled as she inches closer to Elliot. "Something you should know," she began, "Before Myra Denning comes down here and tells you…" her voice cracked and she ran a hand down her face. "The reason she was so sure you grabbed her...why she even went to her lawyer about it…"

"Go on," Elliot prodded, narrowing his eyes. He folded his arms and sent a quick look toward Olivia, having a feeling he knew what Casey was going to say and hoping he could get in front of his girlfriend to stop a fight if he had to. He raised an eyebrow at the attorney and waited.

Novak rocked on her high heels, twisted her lips, and then said, "I went to lunch with Lorna that afternoon, I may have mentioned that you were having problems with your wife, but I swear I never meant for her to use it to force the charges or sway the jury."

"Well, what the fuck did you mean, then?" Olivia shouted, her hands balled into fists and her eyes wide and dark.

Casey held up both hands and shook her head. "I wanted her advice, I asked if she thought it was a good idea for me to make a move." Her eyes dropped to Elliot's. "I didn't know you were already banging Benson," she let her arms drop. "Lorna used it to convince Myra your attempt at helping her up the stairs was more…"

"And you didn't do anything to stop it?" Olivia fumed. "You knew she was lying, knew that accusation was a crock of pure bullshit, and instead of…" her jaw dropped in realization. "You wanted him to get in trouble, you thought he'd need you to defend him in court, maybe he'd thank you by…" her stomach flipped and her eyes closed as she grimaced. "Jesus, Casey!"

"You could have cost me my career!" Elliot barked. "And I wasn't banging Benson! I mean," he chuckled and rubbed his chin. "I fucking wanted to, but I wasn't!"

Casey flinched. "I know that, now," she breathed. "I've realized...I've made a lot of mistakes, working with this unit, with the two of you. I'm not gonna fuck this up. I promise." Her arms folded over and she slumped slightly. "Not like it matters. You already went to Jack, as soon as he finds someone else willing to take this gig... I'm out."

"If you don't get yourself fired," Olivia muttered. She rubbed her eyes and let out a hard breath. "You find anything?" she asked, turning her attention toward Elliot as she raked her hands through her hair.

He hummed and turned back to his computer. "She was engaged to a guy named Darrel Heinzberg, works on Wall Street, I'm running him through the system, see if we can get an address." He looked over his shoulder. "You need anything else?"

Casey bit her lip and shook her head, then dragged her hands over her blouse. "No, not until Myra gets here." She sighed and turned, heading over to sit in a chair by an empty desk on the other side of the room.

Olivia shook her head again, scraped her teeth over her lower lip, and leaned over her desk. "She was really trying to…"

"Didn't work," he interrupted, "Besides, I was already in love with you and trying to convince Kathy to…"

"I know," she cut in, "Doesn't make me any less pissed off. You get anything on the guy, yet? The sun isn't even up yet and I just…" she sighed. "I want to go home."

"Me, too," he ground out, then grabbed the notepad off of her desk. He picked up a pen and scrawled down an address. "Let's go wake up someone else, huh?" He grunted once as he got out of his seat. "Unless he's halfway to Mexico, that is." Turning his head, he yelled, "Cap, we got a lead, we're running with it!"

Cragen, still standing next to the coffee pot and long table, took a sip of the freshly brewed decaf and said, "I can hear you guys from back here, you know." Waving a hand at them, he said, "I heard everything. Go. Be careful."

Elliot swallowed the slight nerves that had crept up at Cragen's statement as he tore a set of keys off of the hook on the side wall and then stood up straighter. "You heard the man," he spoke, looking over at Olivia. He waited for her to rise and walk around to his side of their duetting desks, then said, "You wanna drive?"

Her eyes popped, her jaw tightened, and she tilted her head. "You feeling okay?"

Chuckling, he nodded. "I know you. When you're this pissed off, you need to either hit something or break traffic laws. I'm not letting you punch Novak, so…" he dangled the keys to their maroon sedan in front of her and wagged his eyebrows. "When we get home, uh, I'll help you vent your frustration in much more productive ways." He licked his lips when she snatched the keys and stifled another yawn as he walked out into the hall with her.

"I think we need to thank Melinda," Olivia mumbled, heading toward the elevator. She leaned against the wall and slapped the button halfheartedly. "She called Myra, saved us the trouble of notifying the parents." When the doors opened, she sluggishly made her way into the small box, nodding politely at the two guards who were already inside, then folded her arms and leaned back against the wall.

"You took your pill, before we left, right?" Elliot whispered to her. Leaning closer, he nudged her and asked softly, "One of the ones George gave you?"

Nodding, she said, "Right after we got dressed." She looked at him. "Why?"

He grinned, kissed her cheek, and said, "Just checking." When the doors opened, he ushered her out into the lobby, whistling loudly, and he prayed that what she'd taken would help keep her calm throughout the day, because he feared that when she realized what day it was, she'd panic, and this time he wouldn't be able to calm her down.

Because he'd be crying right along with her.

A/N: Myra, Polikoff, Kathy, and a night full of flying sparks. Next?