A/N: Pure, grade-A E/O Smut. Bon Appétit.

It was horrible.

Olivia stared at herself in the mirror in horror. "My hair." she ran a hand over her newly-shorn hair. "Oh, my God."

"Oh, God, Liv I don't know what happened." Delilah said sickly. "I was just going to add some layers."

Olivia squeaked softly, her eyes wide. "You did the opposite." She groaned quietly. "Lila, do you know what people are going to think of me at work with this haircut?"

Her friend, who had just completed a cosmetology course at Queens Community College with supposed Honors, grimaced. "Liv, I'm so sorry. I did so well in class."

Olivia stared at herself with wide, tearful eyes. "It'll grow." She exhaled shakily. "It'll grow. Maybe I can get extensions."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Delilah said apprehensively, "your hair is too short for extensions."

Olivia closed her eyes. "Okay, well, it'll just have to grow. I'll just take some hair supplements or something."

"Maybe cutting your hair and drinking was a bad idea." Delilah remarked quietly.

"Uh, yeah." Olivia agreed snidely. She groaned loudly. "Work is going to suck tomorrow."

"I'm just gonna go." Delilah said with false cheer. "You don't look terrible though."

"Oh, great," Olivia said, her voice breaking, "thanks. I just look awful, right?"

"It'll grow." Delilah said optimistically. "I'm so sorry, Liv. I didn't mean to mess your hair up. Look, when it's grown out a little I'll do some free foils to make up for it." She grabbed her gear and hurried out of the apartment.

Olivia turned back to the mirror and stared at herself. "Oh." She squeaked again. Suddenly she felt very, very unattractive. Her longer hair had softened her strong jaw and framed her face so her eyes didn't seem so intense. Now, her dark locks stuck up at choppy angles on the top and uneven, hacked up ends around her face. The blonde low-lights Delilah had added made her hair look as though someone with a shake had tried to take her from blonde to brunette. She sniffled loudly. "I look terrible."

She reached for the phone and called the only person she knew wouldn't make her feel worse. "El, can you come over, please?"

"Are you okay?" Elliot asked with concern. Olivia couldn't know it but the moment she asked him to come with tears in her voice he was already crossing the threshold of his house and bounding down the porch to his car.

"Um, just wait until you get here." Olivia said emotionally.

"I'll be there as soon as I can." Elliot said. "Do you need anything?"

"Tequila?" Olivia requested.

"I'm on it." Elliot chuckled. "See you in a few." He hung up.

Olivia put the phone down and turned back to the mirror. She exhaled in disgust and looked away.

Elliot arrived a half hour later. Olivia let him in and hid behind the door.

"What are you doing back there?" Elliot asked in confusion.

"Wait a sec." Olivia requested. "So, um, promise not to laugh, okay?"

"Laugh? Liv, what?" Elliot questioned. He pried the door from her grasp and shut it. "What's going-...oh." He stared at her, his mouth open.

Olivia turned bright red and her shoulders rose up around her ears. "Please, say something."

Elliot closed his mouth and exhaled through his nose. He smiled. "Well, now we can see your face better."

Olivia exhaled with relief and smiled gratefully. "Thank you."

Elliot held up the bottle. "Wanna get shitfaced?"

"Welcome, Friend." Olivia said reverently. She went to the kitchen. "Shots or are we going all-in?"

"Well, about an hour ago Kathy and I were screaming at each other because apparently I work too much and she wants more of a relationship with me, and how I only seem to care about the kids, so I'll let you make that determination." Elliot said.

Olivia got two tumblers down and joined him in the living room. "Sorry you had a fight."

"Eh, it happens." Elliot dismissed. He toed his shoes off. "So, what the hell happened?" He motioned at her head.

Olivia cracked the seal on the bottle and poured them both a double. "My friend just graduated from a cosmetology course for people with Palsy."

Elliot cackled loudly. "Obviously." He took a sip out of his glass and studied her closely. "You know, it doesn't look too bad once you get used to it." He laughed quietly. "That, or maybe the two beers I had before I left the house are mixing with the tequila. Either way."

"You drove here after two beers?" Olivia questioned. She punched him in the arm. "Dip shit."

"Eh, I called a cab, mother." Elliot defended. He rubbed his sore arm. "You punch like Andre the Giant's baby sister."

"So, how bad was the fight?" Olivia asked.

"She threw a plate." Elliot said with a shrug. "Thankfully she isn't a good shot. Thankfully neither am I when I've been drinking."

Olivia's jaw dropped. "You threw it back at her?"

"No, just a cup. Plastic." Elliot said quickly. "She almost took my face."

Olivia smirked incorrigibly. "You're just awful, Stabler."

Elliot grinned broadly. "Hey, you sound like my wife now. Tell me to go fuck my squad car and I'm going to change your name by deed-poll."

Olivia laughed loudly. "She told you that?"

"Look, I work twelve, fourteen, seventeen hour days," Elliot sighed, "I barely sleep, I've got the kids, the bills, Kathy doesn't work so I'm footing everything on my own, I mean, excuse me if by the time I crawl in bed at night I can't perform to her standards."

Olivia looked away, turned pink, and took a sip. "Hey, at least you've got someone who wants you. I'm sitting here in my itty bitty studio apartment with my bad haircut drinking tequila on a school-night."

"I'm here." Elliot pointed out. "It's a school-night for both of us."

Olivia poured him a fresh glass. "My point is, you are the only person I could call for a fucking hair crisis on a Thursday night. Do you know how depressing that is? I'm a thirty-one year old women and you're my only girlfriend."

They laughed together.

"I think the more depressing fact is how fast I ran out of the house to help you with your hair crisis." Elliot remarked. "I'm surprised you didn't ask me for tampons while you were at it."

"I figured you had one." Olivia said with a smile. "Might explain why you've been in such a foul fucking mood lately. Speaking of, what the hell has been pissing in your Oaties lately, El? I swear to God I've handled my own mother on a bender and she's been sweeter than you."

"High praise." Elliot chuckled. "How is Serena lately?"

"She's sober again, for now." Olivia said gruffly. "Won't last." She drained her glass. "Aw, I'm empty, that sucks."

Elliot poured her another. "You considered a wig?"

"I don't think a change of haircut is going to help my mother, El." Olivia said.

"Not for Serena, for you." Elliot clarified. "What if you just find a wig shop and just find one that looks like your old hair and just wear it until your hair grows?"

"A wig, with our job?" Olivia scoffed. "First time chasing a perp it's going to fly off, then I can just see the Daily Ledger, 'NYPD detective gets head blown off chasing perp. All that was left was hair.'"

Elliot snorted. "Fair enough. Hey, do you still see that guy from the Ledger, Ganzer?"

"Ew, no." Olivia said with a grimace. "He was totally gross."

"I don't get it," Elliot said, shaking his head, "you're a smart, gorgeous woman, I don't get how you have so much trouble getting guys. I mean, even Munch has a handful of ex-wives."

"It's different being a woman in this line of work." Olivia explained quietly. "I'm too intense, too strong, too fierce for most guys. And, it's not exactly like I can talk about my day. Oh, yes, here's a lovely pot roast and shall we discuss the rape of a three year old or the granny-fondler on the subway?"

"Hey, sometimes we have the college date-rapes." Elliot remarked.

"That's my point, what god awful piece of garbage do I bring home?" Olivia asked. "What nightmare should I give a lover on any given night? It isn't fair."

"That's why I have so many kids." Elliot mused. "Easier to talk about the kids, make the kids, be all about the kids than try to tell Kathy that some piece of shit hurt a little girl with the same name as one of my kids and that's why I'm angry, why I had a second beer at dinner, why I don't feel like talking, why I don't feel like sex? Because what kind of sicko listens to a five year old talk about her stepfather crawling in her bed at night and then fucks his wife with that in his head?" He poured them both a fresh drink.

"I don't want to go to work tomorrow." Olivia said quietly. "Everyone is going to stare and laugh. Munch is going to make jokes."

"I'll knock his fucking lights out if he even looks at you sideways." Elliot promised.

"Think there's ever going to be a day when we don't have to knock someone's lights out for each other?" Olivia asked with a small smile.

"Nah, it's what partners do." Elliot said. "I have your ass, you have mine."

"If I had your ass I'd never be without a boyfriend." Olivia teased.

"Yours isn't half bad." Elliot said quietly. He leaned against the back of the couch and put his chin in the palm of his hand. "Your hair isn't half-bad either." He reached out and brushed it back a little. "In time."

Olivia looked away. "Why did I let this happen?"

Elliot knew she wasn't talking about her hair. "It isn't so bad."

Her brown eyes rolled back to him. "Why did I call you?"

"Because it was the right thing to do." Elliot said simply. "When you got ghosts you call the Ghostbusters, when you need a boost you call me." He shrugged. "It's what we do." He put his hand on her shoulder and grabbed the fabric of her turtleneck. He pulled her closer. "What we do." He moved his hand to the back of her head and grabbed her short hair. "We do."

Olivia closed the gap between them.

They pawed at each other hungrily. Elliot wrapped his arms around her thin waist and threw her over his shoulder. As they crossed to the bed he felt her slid one hand down the back of his pants. He tossed her effortlessly over his shoulder on the bed. "Like I said, this is what we do." He looked into her eyes as he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants.

Olivia sat up and peeled her turtleneck off and threw it aside. She sat up on her knees and hooked an arm around his neck. With her free hand she took his jaw and opened it. She stuck her tongue in his mouth andfelt him growing hard between them.

Elliot held her in one arm and shovedhis pants down with the other. He pushed her on her back with his pelvis and held her arms together by the wrist over her head. He buried his face in her neck and wrapped his lips around hersoft, warm flesh. He taste her unique flavor, sweet and spicy. It had been intoxicating, filling up thesquad car the first time he took herclothes off and neverfailed to entice him since.

He reached for the button on her pants and opened them. He felt his dick harden at once when he saw her long legs as he slid her tight pants down. He picked one up and draped it over his shoulder. He kissed the crease of her knee, his tongue darting out, leaving a little wet spot on her warm flesh. He went back up and kissed her again, tasting tequila on her breath.

He picked her up and unhooked her bra. He sent it flying across the room. She was perfect, the most perfect woman he could imagine. He bent down and circled one perky brown nipple with his tongue until it pebbled up.

Olivia gazed back wantonly, her brown eyes nearly black with desire. Elliot felt his hand moving and realized he'd been jerking himself and staring at her.

Olivia smirked and sat up on her elbows. "I could do that for you."

"Or, you could suck it." Elliot shrugged. "Either way."

Olivia giggled playfully and got on her knees in front of him. "Whatever you want." She wrapped her hands around his waist, her long fingers digging into the firm flesh of his ass. She opened her mouth and wrapped her lips around the tip of his penis. She looked up at him as she slid the length of him towards the back of her throat.

Elliot rolled his eyes upward and exhaled loudly. "Jesus Christ, you're amazing." He grabbed a hank of her hair and moved her head faster. "Fuck, yes." He growled coarsely; a long, low noise. He pulled Olivia's head back and jerked her up.

He smashed their faces together and wetly enveloped her mouth with his. He pushed her back on the bed and pinned her once again. He kissed down the graceful column of her neck, leaving a trail of hot saliva, and down her chest. He wrapped his lips around a hard nipple and suckled at it hungrily, almost desperately.

He heard her moan; a soft, velvety noise that emanated from the depth of her throat. His dick quivered in anticipation. When he bit down on the delicate flesh of her right breast she mewed softly and her back arched, nearly choking him. He kissed down the length of her body, stopping to swirl his tongue around her navel.

He slid his fingers in the legs of her white lace panties and drew them down. He looked at her and smirked before tossing them over his shoulder. He wrapped his hands around her thighs and wrenched her body down the bed.

She was wet. So very wet. Her thighs were covered in her arousal. He pressed his face between her legs and drank her scent. Tantalizing and torturous, he drew the tip of his tongue along the opening of her vagina up to her clitoris and tickled the tender tendril delicately.

Olivia gasped quietly and curled her fingers around the bedspread tightly. "El,...fuck...".

"I am, baby, don't worry." Elliot assured her. He eased his tongue inside of her, the taste of her seeping into his tastebuds. It was better than any expensive booze, better than anything.

It had been better than anything in the backseat of the squad car on the road home from a quick trip in Dutchess County to question a person-of-interest.

She'd come out of her hotel room in a pair of tight jeans and a ratty old t-shirt, nothing special. Sitting next to her in the car, listening to her talk, singing along with the radio, smiling broadly when she saw him watching her and putting on a show for him.

They barely made it halfway before he pulled the car over behind some trees and grabbed her by the hair. Any fear she didn't reciprocate went out windows when he felt the divots her fingernails left in his scalp.

He'd got her in the backseat and pulled her pants down. Despite the thirty degree weather and how the cold, hard ground hurt his knees, her sex was warm and inviting.

Olivia, too, harkened back, but not to that afternoon on the side of the Taconic Parkway, but later, in the crib, after a difficult case had left Elliot in a quiet, dangerous mood.

She found him in the locker room with bloody knuckles, another locker with a caved in door. She'd put her hand on his shoulder so gently and he pushed her up against the same locker that his blood adorned. She let him take her roughly there without foreplay, without waiting for her own juices to flow. If she hadn't sunk her teeth into his shoulder the whole precinct would have heard her scream as she had one of the best orgasms in her thirty-two years.

Now, as his tongue probed her delicate, she brought the memory of that night with her. Her breath hitched in her throat and she threw her head back. "Shit, Elliot! Oh, God!"

It wasn't enough to let her come, he had to draw it out, make it last. He covered her throbbed clitoris with his mouth and undulated the dear little mound with his lips and tongue until he had Olivia bucking wildly and shrieking breathlessly.

He came up and took his aching penis in hand. He gave himself several brisk tugs and pushed Olivia's legs open. "Say 'aah'." He thrust once inside of her and pulled all the way out. He entered her again, harder and deeper, and pulled out all the way.

"El...". Olivia whined quietly. "Please."

Elliot chuckled once. "Whatever you say, baby." He thrust roughly inside of her and dug his fingers into her hips. He slammed himself in and out of her carelessly, their flesh slapping wetly at every meeting.

"Jesus," Olivia gasped stiltedly, "you trying to fuck my left lung?" She laughed breathily but when his dick hit a sweet spot she cried out and fell silent.

"Don't do that," Elliot grunted, "don't go silent. Don't go throwing that wall up now. I want to hear you enjoying this." He slowed down and stroked once, slow and deep.

Olivia moaned loudly. "Fuck, just make me come already."

"As you wish." Elliot said. He picked her up and she hooked her legs around his waist. He rocked up inside of her as he made his way across the apartment. He held her up with one arm and opened the fridge. "Hold up, I need something to drink." He shoved aside three day old Thai food and grabbed a bottle of cheap bourbon that had less than half a fingers worth left in the bottom.

He popped the cap with his teeth and took a long swig before kissing her. Alcohol bathed them both. Olivia kissed him, tasting herself and the booze on his tongue. Elliot turned and shoved her against the fridge.

He fucked her until she was screaming his name, neighbors be damned. Her short fingernails scratching his back up, her legs digging into his waist.

He felt his balls tighten and knew his own release was imminent. He lowered them to the floor with her straddling him. He held her by the hips and used her like a ragdoll.

He wailed loudly and shoved as far inside of her as he could. He felt his hot load shoot out of himself and his hips jerked roughly. "Aah, fuck!"

Olivia slumped forward and let her head rest against the cabinet Elliot was limp against.

For a while the only sound was their loud, uneven breathing. Elliot stroked his fingers up and down Olivia's sticky spine lightly. "Hey."

Olivia rest her cheek on his shoulder and put her face in the crook of his neck. "Hmm?"

"If anyone looks at you sideways tomorrow I'm gonna put you over our desks and fuck you in front of them." Elliot promised.

THE END