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 29th, 6:00 AM

"Where's your partner?" Casey Novak tilted her head to one side, licked her lips, and smirked in a way that would have driven Olivia crazy if she'd noticed it at all. Her hands draped over her folded arms, her high-heeled shoes dug into the gravel as she rocked back and forth. Part of her was annoyed that she was wasting such an amazing outfit since the one person she wanted to impress was noticeably absent, another part was pissed off that she'd rolled out of bed three hours too early for nothing. "Trouble in paradise?" She hoped her voice carried the right amount of sting.

Olivia kept her eyes trained on the broken and bruised body on the pavement at her feet, shook her head, and sighed discontentedly. "Maureen's car wouldn't start, so he has to take the kids to school, then go back to the apartment and wait for the tow truck," she babbled without thinking. "We're sending the car to Jimmy's, damn thing is only three years old, it shouldn't have…" she paused, blinked twice, then let out a hard scoff. For a moment, the past had been forgotten. For a split second, she was talking to Casey the way she would a friend. Her attention shifted and she looked around, noticing the damp alley was lit only by the red and blue police lights, because the streetlamp was broken, glass shattered on the ground. "Fucking hell," she breathed. Her head dropped, then, and another hard breath escaped as she looked at the plastic bag in her hand. "What can you tell me, Mel?" she asked, running her finger along the plastic, over the photograph on the victim's driver's license. "Anything solid?"

Melinda Warner looked over her shoulder and upward. "Stabbed three times, but your doer only needed one," she tapped the young woman's coat. "First blow pierced her heart, killed her instantly. Other two were literally overkill. We got fluids, though. I'll run tests as soon as I get this poor girl back to my lab." She rose to her feet and folded her hands together, then pulled her latex gloves off in one whipping motion and tossed them into the paper bag one of her assistants held out for her. After she nodded her thanks, she looked at Olivia again. "Now, you wanna tell me why Novak has been here for the last twenty minutes, glaring at me like an angry librarian?" She dragged her fingers through her curly black hair, loosening herself up a bit.

Chuckling, Olivia scratched the side of her nose and lowered her voice. "Returning to her roots, just like her hair is," she quipped. "Figures she can try to get back into our good graces by proving she's fully committed to the job, seeing her cases through from beginning to end. Now she's waiting for you to tell us where this girl lives, then she's gonna bug me all the way there and back."

"Well, you have the girl's wallet, so I don't need to tell you where she lives," Warner shrugged. "As tempting as it might be, don't punch the lawyer," she warned, half-kidding, and then said, "I can make a call, have her benched and babysat until she's needed at a trial." She nudged Olivia with her elbow. "And when the hell were you gonna tell me you and Elliot…"

"Shh," Olivia slapped her hand into Warner's arm, looking around quickly. "Who the hell told you?" she hissed as she tossed her hair back and tugged on the cuffs of her jacket.

Melinda twisted her lips to the side and crossed her arms. "Three guesses," she said flippantly, "But I wanna know why I had to hear it from him when it should have come from you!" Her face fell and she realized Olivia really wasn't thrilled with the topic of conversation. "Oh, come on, Benson, you don't really think the two of you are in any kind of trouble, do you? That archaic policy is meant to keep people from having drunken one-night-stands with each other to forget about a hard case." Her eyes widened as she dragged her palms down the front of her blue windbreaker. "Not what I meant! You were sober when you slept with Cassidy, and work had nothing to do with it, so don't look at me like that."

Dragging her hands through her hair, Olivia relaxed slightly and nodded as she bit her lip. "No, uh, Cragen and Tucker know, I think we're...we're fine, I just never thought…" she cringed as two of the other medical technicians lifted the body of their victim and placed her in a black bag. "How are we having a casual conversation, right now?" She raised one eyebrow and hid a slow-spreading smirk behind one of her hands as she turned back toward Melinda.

"Because if we waited until we were off the clock, we'd never get to talk to each other," Warner offered with a curt and firm nod. "Call me later, you need to tell me everything," she lowered her voice and smiled. "I've been waiting to hear this story for years, Liv."

"I've been waiting a lot longer to tell it," Olivia chuckled. Taking a deep breath, she watched the techs set the cold, bagged body onto a stretcher and roll it toward the medical examiner's van, then shoved her hands into the pockets of her brown leather jacket. "Let me know as soon as you find anything on her."

Melinda waved over her head as she walked away from Olivia and toward the waiting van.

Rolling her eyes, Olivia sighed and turned around, then shot Casey a narrow-eyed look. "No," she spat before the redhead even asked anything. "You can't come to the victim's house with me," she spat fast. "I have to tell these people that their daughter was found in the alley behind a strip joint wearing nothing but a ripped shirt and a trench coat, I don't need you huffing and puffing over my shoulder while I do it."

"I'm not…" Casey started, and then she exhaled as Olivia breezed past her. "And since when does the fucking medical examiner know things about you that I don't?"

Not even looking over her shoulder, Olivia spat back, "Since you decided you'd rather throw Elliot and me to the wolves every chance you got than be any kind of a friend."

Casey ran, her stilettos clicking on the pavement, and grabbed Olivia's arm. "Okay, look, I'm sorry! Is that what you want to…"

Olivia's boots scraped on the gravel as she sharply turned. "No! God, saying you're sorry isn't gonna fix this! That's the issue!" She took two steps forward, her right hand clutching the evidence bag as her left balled into a fist. "How the hell is saying you're sorry gonna make up for everything you've done in the last four years? Cases you've blown for bullshit reasons, evidence and testimony you've manipulated or destroyed for personal gain! Oh! And putting your emotional attachments ahead of your legal obligations and forgetting where your loyalty…"

"I…am…sorry!" Novak bellowed, drawing out each word loudly. Her hands swept over the silk of her shirt and then fell into the pockets of her skirt. "You're right! I let a lot of my personal feelings get in the way and I cost you and Elliot…"

"This isn't about me! Shit! You almost cost him his job!" Olivia fumed. "His wife thought…" her eyes closed, so many things she recalled Kathy complaining about came flooding back to her. Only one had anything to do with what Casey had said or done, the rest had fallen squarely on her. She exhaled and relaxed her shoulders. "Just…" she opened her eyes slowly. "Do your job, the right fucking way, and stay on your side of the investigation."

"I did what I had to do, you can't fault me for that!" Casey yelled. Her nails clawed the air as she let out a frustrated growl. "You of all people should know how hard I have to fight just to earn respect, and what I have to do to compete with the men in the field! I don't have a choice! If I find a weak spot, I'm going to expose it! Are you really mad at me for using a few tricks to get my way in court," Casey asked in a low voice, "Or are you just pissed off that I got Stabler to notice that someone is ready and willing to fuck him, besides you?"

Giving Casey an almost vile laugh, Olivia shook her head as she straightened out the wrinkles in her black and white striped shirt. "What he noticed?" she sneered. "Is how desperate and pathetic your attempts at getting his attention were, how cold and unfeeling you could be, and how selfish and vindictive you are." She bit her lip and wondered what the look on Casey's face would be if she knew they were trying to have a baby, if she realized how permanent things were. "Not worth it," she mumbled, then turned around and walked away, fighting the sudden wave of nausea rising in her stomach.

Just as she reached the red sedan that Elliot rarely let her drive, her phone rang. "Jesus," she gruffed. Opening the door, she tossed the bagged wallet onto the passenger seat and then pulled her phone out of her pocket. Without looking at the name or number, she answered the call with a harsh sounding, "Benson." The smile formed without her noticing. "Yeah, I can pick you up, as backwards as that sounds." She laughed, then heard him speak again. "I'm still at the…what?" She shot her gaze back toward Novak, her stomach sinking. "Oh, we already got into this morning. You wanna tell her that Donnelly is benching her, it's on you." She finally got into the car, settling herself behind the wheel. "Yeah, I will be there in a few…" Her heart stopped and her lungs constricted. The permissible smile on her face grew. "I love you, too."

After hanging up, she tossed her phone into the tray near the gear shift and ran her hands over the steering wheel. Her focus remained on her hands, thinner fingers than she remembered dragged along the vinyl as they drummed and wriggled. For the slightest of moments, she imagined what the cold metal of a ring would feel like grazing under her skin. The promise of that kind of future had never been so certain, so fiercely inevitable. Dropping a hand, she shifted the car into drive, then headed onto the main road as she gnawed on the inside of her cheek.

Maybe he'd ask one day when she didn't expect it in a way she'd never imagined. Or maybe he'd take her to a fancy restaurant on one of the million anniversaries they have, get down on one knee before the wine was even uncorked. Perhaps he'd simply slip a ring onto her finger as they lay in bed together, or say something cheesy while watching a movie in front of their fireplace. Would it be an event they spend a year planning, or would it be just the two of them and a judge who owed them a favor? What if he didn't even ask? What if he drove her and the kids out to Jersey one day, pulled into a church lot, and winked at her. And what if he'd already asked, in his own way. He did say that most Marines propose with the medallion around her neck, and he had said that he wanted to be with her forever when he gave it to her. Maybe that was it, they'd fallen into it, they'd never even get married and just settle into a perfect life with their beautiful children without the legality of exchanging vows and changing names. But God, she wanted the vows and she wanted his name.

Every way she'd ever fantasized about it played like short films in her mind and she had to fight to bring herself back to the moment. Back to reality. With a deep sigh, she turned the wheel again, getting closer to her apartment to pick up her partner. That's what he was, in every possible way. She inhaled, smiling again at the thought of him.

As she drove, her mind wandered again, until she realized how calm she still was. It was the first time that being alone with her thoughts didn't lead to panic, didn't bring on flashbacks. Trees blurred into paint streaks of green, buildings became wavy greys and browns as she drove, and she stopped at a light just in time to see a few joggers cross in front of her car. It hit her, then, how long it had been since she'd gone for a run, since she'd taken a yoga class, since she'd needed something to clear her mind and distract her from her feelings. The ones she had to kill, because she shouldn't have been feeling them at all.

Now, those feelings couldn't be ignored anymore, didn't have to be shut away, and her mind was so cluttered by them that no amount of running would clear it. But it was the only thing that she hadn't tried as a way to calm herself down. "Tomorrow morning," she mumbled, planning to wake Elliot up an hour earlier and drag him around the block a few times. Laughing at the mental image of him running after her, she turned the wheel and sighed. Her life, every aspect of it, was more wrapped up in Elliot than she realized, and she was thankful for it.

Turning the wheel once again, she caught sight of him, standing on the sidewalk in front of their building. She grinned as she stopped the car, and then melted as he got in and handed her a foam cup. Looking down at it, she gave a sad smile. "I can't have…"

"It's ginger and lemon tea," he said as he picked up the sealed evidence bag so he wouldn't sit on it, then plopped into the seat. He closed the door then grinned proudly at her as he ran his palms over his knees. "It'll give you all the energy you need," he began, then pointed at her stomach. "And it's totally safe, ya know, uh, if there's a baby in there."

"If there's a baby in here, then you really do have miracle sperm," she joked, sipping her tea. Humming and licking her lips, she nodded and dropped the cup into the console holder. "We've only…what, maybe four times…six if you count…"

"I slept with Kathy once, and then," he interrupted, holding up a finger. "Bam, Maureen." He simpered playfully as he shrugged and then leaned over to kiss her. "Where are we going?"

"East Ninety-sixth street," she said as she peeled her lips away from his. "Did you just…"

He silenced her with another kiss, stroked his fingers through her hair, moaned softly, then pulled away. He straightened his tie and pulled on the hem of his jacket. "I'm not used to being on this side of the car," he said with a wink. "Wanted you to know how much I love you, in case you kill us."

"Oh," she scoffed and widened her eyes, then shifted into drive. "Okay, Stabler, have fun trying to make a baby by yourself on the couch, tonight," she teased, but she laughed along with him, knowing there was no way they'd spend a single night apart, ever again. "By the way," she breathed, heading toward their victim's house, "What exactly did you tell Fin when you called him this morning?"

Sheepishly, Elliot pursed his lips and examined the vic's wallet, hesitating before speaking. "Well, you told me to ask him to help me empty the storage unit, I needed to also explain why he'd be helping me carry a crib and changing table into our apartment…so I told him…about us." He licked his lips. "Everything."

"You give him details? Because apparently, Melinda expects me to regale her with something akin to the sequel to Fifty Shades of Grey when I call her, later," she cracked, chuckling again. "I thought we were trying to keep this quiet!"

"Oh, come on, I have been dreaming of the moment I'd be able to brag about being with you…fuck, for years." He reached out a hand and softly cupped the side of her face. "I had to tell Fin, but it's not like I posted it on Instagram or something." He chuckled. "Though I do have a few pictures on my phone that would get a whole lotta likes." He wagged his eyebrows at her.

Nodding, she laughed and let out a content breath. "Just keep the more sordid details to yourself, huh? In this line of work, it's not exactly…"

Their conversation was cut short; their bodies were jostled and the tea spilled over the plastic and leather, and the car halted as the emergency brakes kicked on and the engine cut. "What the fuck?" Elliot huffed, turning around. "Call Cragen," he said as he dug his own phone out of his pocket and pressed three buttons. "Detective Stabler, Manhattan Special Victims, Six-Three-One-Three, en route to a victim's residence, corner of East Ninety-sixth and Second Ave, uh…we were struck from behind," he kept talking as he reached for his gun and opened his door. "Blue compact, driver still on scene." He got out of the car and stepped closer, aiming his gun, then looked through the driver's side window of the car that had hit them. He gripped his gun a bit tighter but then dropped it and winced. "Send the medical examiner with patrol." He hung up and looked over at Olivia, who was still on the phone with Cragen, and sadly shook his head as he holstered his gun. "Thanks," he spat and then hung up the phone. "GSW to the right shoulder, probably tried to drive himself to the hospital, bled out, hit us."

Ending her call, she walked toward him and folded her arms. "Never a dull moment," she exhaled.

"No, not with us," he laughed, and he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer to him. "Are you okay?" he asked, skimming his hands over her body.

"Yeah, yeah," she nodded. "Are you?" her worried voice croaked and her hands flew to the back of his head. She searched his eyes for any sign of distress, but when he nodded at her, she exhaled. "Shit like this can only fucking happen to us."

"Oh, I think Cragen's been bugging the wrong one about the potty mouth," he joked, and then he wrapped her in his arms again, hearing the sirens grow louder, the flashing lights get brighter and closer. As he pressed his lips to her forehead, he closed his eyes and prayed that this wouldn't take long, that they'd be able to get back to work and that the rest of the day wouldn't be as eventful. He had plans for the night, ones he couldn't cancel, and would definitely leave their mark.

Permanently.

A/N: The couple that gets tattooed together stays together. Next?