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 30th, 4:00 AM
Elliot rolled over onto his side, seething as the sore skin of his arm pulled with his movements. He draped himself fully over Olivia, grinning as his fingertips landed on her own Saniderm-sealed ink. The same image as on his arm, smaller and more delicate, had been etched into the top curve of her right shoulder blade.
He chuckled softly, remembering the fight they'd gotten into about placement, how he'd had to talk her out of hips and ribs in case she was pregnant now or would be soon. He recalled her initial reaction to the needle on her skin, the way she'd grimaced and told him she'd rather be shot or stabbed any day of the week. However, when the single-needle outline was done, she'd gone numb, and she'd barely even felt the rest of the tattoo. They'd both cried when Ben was finished with it, the reality sinking in as they stared at their matching ink in the full-length shop mirror.
They're permanently a part of each other, under each other's skin, and the tattoo itself had so much significance, held so much weight: her badge and his. The two four-digit numbers defined them individually and as partners. It encapsulated the moment they met and the vows they'd made to protect and defend each other, kill or die for each other, have each other's back, and support each other no matter what. That same promise he made to her a thousand times over, every day of his life, and it reached far beyond his job.
She stirred under his touch, and he stilled as if only just noticing he'd been grazing the tattoo beneath the protective film. "Sorry," he whispered, watching her eyes flutter and open. He wriggled against her, pulling the blue and grey comforter up higher on their entwined naked bodies. "Didn't mean to wake you up."
"You didn't," she whispered. With a smile, she shook her head and nuzzled closer to him, and then twisted a bit to glance at the clear wrapping on her shoulder. "I see why you have nine of these things," she mumbled. "Well, ten, now." She snuggled into him, her head rubbing against his chest. "I think you created a monster, this one isn't even healed, and I'm thinking about my next one."
"Told you," he laughed, then kissed the crown of her head as he looped his left leg around her ankles. "So if I didn't wake you up…" he exhaled and closed his eyes, hoping it wasn't what he feared. "What did?"
She rolled her hips, moaning once as his hardness sunk deeper into her. The cushy mattress molded around their joined bodies as she exhaled. "Don't worry about it," she spoke, but she knew as soon as the words left her lips that they would be met with a side of Elliot only she knew. One that only existed now because of her.
"You know better than to say that to me," he spoke lowly, his lips dragging over the skin of her forehead. "Bad dream?" He thrust his hips once. "Good dream?" He chuckled, trying to ease her mind and lighten the mood. He felt her rock into him again and gave a soft growl. Opening his eyes, he found hers. "What's wrong?" he asked, brushing his hand through her hair.
"Nothing," she said to him. "For the first time in my life…nothing is wrong. Everything is perfect, I'm happy, I feel whole…with you…like this." Her head bent forward slightly and she kissed him once. Her fingers trailed up his arms and hooked together around his neck. "You were right," she breathed. "Bad dream…but not…it was stupid."
Brushing his nose against hers, he exhaled and said, "Talk to me." His hands found her ass under the covers; thick-skinned palms caressed her skin, and his tongue darted out to lick at her lips.
After a long, slow kiss, she sighed. "It was just a dream about things being different. The way they were…" her head turned up slightly. "Before."
"No, no way," he whispered. "Never. We are never going backwards, baby, you and me…" he dragged one hand up the length of her spine and ran a finger underneath the gold chain. "Forever." He let the chain hang around his finger for a moment, and then he clutched the medallion in his palm. "Semper Fi," he eked out, and then he looked at her, holding her gaze but not smiling. "Always."
"I'm holding you to that," she whispered to him, curling her fingers, tightening herself around him.
With a hard grunt, he rolled over, moaning when her back flattened onto the mattress as he slipped deeper into her. His words were muffled as he kissed her neck, and his hands traveled up and down her sides until he moved one of them to her chest. Kissing his way downward, he cupped and squeezed her breasts. His mouth met his right hand, and he gripped tighter while he suckled on her nipple.
She moaned his name as he carried on, lavishing her right breast as he began to buck his hips slowly. His head tilted back slightly and looked into her eyes.
Her nails clawed at his scalp and the back of his neck, and she arched her back slightly as she mumbled a soft Latin prayer she wasn't even sure how she knew.
His head popped up, then, and he tilted his head. "How the fuck did…" he smiled and hit into her a bit faster, a lot deeper. "You remember that?" With a soft moan, he pressed his forehead against hers and moved with a profound purpose, eager to make her feel everything the way was. "Fuck, baby," he breathed.
Blinking once, it hit her. During one of the first cases that had taken them undercover with assumed names and identities, a night where they'd experienced too close a call, he'd said it so many times she couldn't help but memorize it. When it had all ended, he had held her against him in a hug that defied explanation, finding solace amid the commotion. He'd whispered a prayer over and over, thanking God that they'd been given to each other because they wouldn't have survived with anyone else.
Wisi enim ad perfectum meam dans mihi hac fide dilectione patientia et praesidium.
The words left her again, her unblinking eyes staring into his. The language he'd slowly but certainly taught her through whispered curses and barely spoken utterances in times of Catholic need. She'd picked up more than she'd realized, and now in the most intimate of moments, she proved it.
Smiling, he kissed her slowly, sweetly, his toned arms bracing her body as he thrust and retracted in a stammering rhythm. He'd hoped that somehow she'd been listening, absorbing his faith in the spurts and drabs he'd tossed at her because he found comfort and strength in it and wanted so desperately to give that to her. He'd made it part of his job, a vow he intended to keep. "I love you," he softly moaned into her partly opened mouth.
Her body met his, move for move, and her hands palmed his clenching ass. "God, I love you," she returned, closing her eyes as he thrust and hit an undiscovered spot inside of her that made her tremble.
Feeling her tighten and shiver, he kissed her again and sped up his motions, needing to feel more, desperately yearning to see ecstasy wash over her. He grunted as he slammed his body into hers and then whispered, "Let go." He brushed his lips over hers. "Cum for me," he huffed, "With me."
Even if she wanted to deny him, she couldn't do so; her muscles twitched as her toes curled. Nails dug into his skin, and soft snaps pierced the air as she carved her way down his back. "Elliot," her voice fell away on a melodic moan as her whole body clamped around his.
Gasping and groaning, they were hit by waves of pleasure and bombs of intensity. He thrust deeper and faster, moaning as she screamed his name and gripped his arms. Finally, he stilled and growled as she thrashed and clenched around him, his fiery kiss muffling her loud cries. Her entire body shuddered and her head fell back; her mouth dropped open in soundless euphoria. As he gripped her hips, he convulsed, giving off a hot and almost violent release.
He collapsed when he was spent, using the last ounce of strength he had to flip over onto his back and take her with him. With closed eyes, he kissed her face and forehead, feeling her settle against him. His arms wrapped around her and he could feel her still shaking in his hold, still pulsing around him. Unconsciously, he muttered the prayer again, adding a few more words, thanking God for the woman in his arms, for the sacred love they'd discovered in each other, and for absolution.
Silence fell over them; their breathing slowed as their heartbeats calmed. His hands ran up and down her back, words falling from his mouth to hers as he languidly kissed her. He was fully conscious of where he was: the freshly painted and decorated bedroom nestled in the corner of a half-floor apartment he'd co-signed with her to merge their lives seamlessly. Beneath him, the new bed that was purchased and put together for the sole purpose of sharing it with her. Again, he closed his eyes and exhaled, silently thanking a much higher power for giving all of it to him despite his faults and sins. And though he didn't want to seem greedy, he asked for one more precious gift, something he'd wanted more than he could fathom, something he promised to give to the woman wrapped up in him. Nothing was lost on him, nothing taken for granted.
Minutes passed, nothing more than deep breaths and rustling sheets filling the space. Sleep welcomed him first, and just as she was drifting away to meet him in her dreams, a soft but demanding knocking hit her ears. With a whimper and a whining grimace, she peeled herself away from Elliot, careful not to jostle him or bounce the mattress too much. Yawning, she forced her arms through the sleeves of her plush robe and padded out of the bedroom and down the hall as she wrapped and tied the pink material. She looked through the peephole and then, with worried anxiety, she unlocked and opened the door. "What happened?"
Captain Cragen shook his head as he scrubbed a hand down his face. "You need to tell me you two have been here all night."
Squinting, she covered another yawn with a delicate hand. "Well, we spent a few hours downtown, but we…"
"Where?" Cragen interrupted sharply. He let his eyes patrol the living room, signs of a blended life hitting his gaze. School books and hardbacked novels strewn across the coffee table, ashen embers in the pit of the fireplace, shoes in several sizes and styles in neatly discordant piles on the plusher oak flooring near the door, just to the left of his own feet. "I need…" he looked up at her. "I need to know."
"Shotzie's," she gave him, folding her arms. "Tattoo place. We've got the fresh ink and raw skin to prove it, and I can call Ben and have him give you a full account and security tapes if it's that important." She huffed and raked her nails through her hair. "Now, what is this about, Cap? It's almost six in the morning on a Sunday. You couldn't have just called one of us?"
Licking his lips, Cragen's hands trembled as he motioned with them, finding the words he needed to say. "Al Antonaci was following you. It was no accident or coincidence that he's the one who slammed into the back of your sedan." He let out a hard breath. "Liam ran ballistics, the trajectory of his wound says he was shot at high-speed, someone shot him while he was driving, not before like you thought. He must have followed you from the scene to your place and tailed you until he…"
"Calm down," Olivia said, and she furrowed her brow. "Do you think whoever killed Lia Antonaci knew that her father was following us, shot him to keep him from, what, talking to us? Giving us a name? He knew who killed his daughter?"
With a shrug, Cragen let out a scoff. "Your guess is as good as mine," he shoved his hands into his pockets, instantly clutching his sobriety chip, the cold metal almost burning his palm. "We only know what we know because of his GPS." He let out another breath. "You two didn't contact Masucci or any of his goons, after finding out he was behind that bullshit with Harris?"
Concern turned to disdain as Olivia's eyes darkened. "Cap, I admit, I wanted to shake the man's hand for having a hand in wiping Lowell Fucking Harris off the face of the Earth, but absolutely not." She bit her lip. "We wouldn't even know how! I mean, it's not like we have the Mob on speed-dial!"
"And you're sure, absolutely sure he doesn't have any relatives who…" Cragen didn't even get the rest of the words out. He flinched when Olivia barked back at him.
"Shit! No!" She yelled a bit louder than she'd intended. "You and Tucker have vivid fucking imaginations, I'll tell ya that." She rolled her eyes. "Elliot is not related to anyone in the mob. Not Italian, Irish, Russian, or…"
"All right," Cragen softened slightly, holding up one hand. With another heavy sigh, he looked around again. Walls around him were dotted with framed photos of kids he hardly recognized; Elliot and Olivia looked more like a happily married couple than partners, even in pictures that he obviously been taken years ago. "I've been meaning to ask you…" he dropped his eyes and continued to twirl his coin around in his pocket. "You and Elliot, uh…you're not just stepping in because Kathy left him, are you? You're not obligated to be his partner, uh, in other ways.
"Wow," she huffed, her eyes widening. "I thought he told you…"
"He told me," Cragen nodded, "But you didn't. I keep hearing him defend this. He tells me how he feels, how much he worships you and the ground you walk on, but am I listening to a broken man on the rebound who isn't used to being alone? You sure he isn't taking advantage of the crush you've had on him since the moment you met so that he doesn't have to reevaluate his entire life?"
She blinked once and licked her lips, controlling her rage, and she gritted out her next words. "Cap, I'm gonna try very hard to pretend you didn't just say that." She inhaled deeply. "I'm only going to say this once because I shouldn't have to say it at all," she breathed. "Everyone saw this coming. Everyone but us, apparently. What is happening here is two people finally confronting what's been brewing for so damn long, now that there's nothing in the way or anything to be afraid of, and I know he told you that we…"
"Yeah, he did," Cragen injected again. "Just promise me, and yourself, that you won't be raising this child on your own and that he or she won't be last on his list of previously existing priorities." He cringed, hearing himself, and then he said, "No, I know that's not gonna happen, I know how much you two…how serious this is…."
"But yet you still think I'm making some monumental mistake," she spoke sullenly. "You think I'm making sacrifices for him because he has kids and hasn't been single since high school," she quipped, shaking her head.
Cragen chuckled softly as he nodded slightly. "Crossed my mind," he admitted. "Only because it's something you would do. That's why you're such an incredible cop, because you care too damn much. Especially about your partner and his kids. Well, I guess they might as well be your kids, now, huh?" He smirked, crossed his arms, and relaxed slightly when Olivia smiled back at him. "You two, uh, enjoy your Sunday…."
"Why did you ask where we were?" she asked, reaching for the doorknob before Cragen could grab it. "What was so important you had to come all the way out here?"
"We had a lead on your doer," Cragen said flatly. "Dricket and Briscoe ran with it, but the guy was DOA, shot between the eyes, caliber matches department issue brass. Half-written text message on his phone, still in his hand. He was watching you, making sure no one else went to talk to you. I needed to make sure…" he grinned and tilted his head. "Needed to make sure Elliot wasn't doing his job, protecting his family."
"If I would have known someone had sights on my family," Elliot spoke from a few feet away, "You can bet I would have." He crossed his arms over his bare chest, having only pulled on a pair of sweatpants before following the sounds of their voices. "Thanks for knowing I'd kill for my family, Cap, but you should maybe have a little more faith in me that I wouldn't actually do it without at least warning you first." He narrowed his eyes and scratched the side of his scruffy face as he stepped closer to them and wrapped one arm around Olivia's waist.
Cragen nodded at him with a half-slanted smile, then let himself out.
Once the door was closed, Olivia turned and looked at Elliot apologetically. Before she could speak, he kissed her once.
"Wasn't you," he whispered, pulling her back toward their bedroom. When they stepped through the door, he kicked it shut and let go of her. "Kathy called. The phone woke me up." He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. "She, uh, just got home from a double shift, checked her mail." He grinned. "She got a letter from my lawyer with a signed affidavit from two federal judges, telling her she couldn't get her hands on any of the money in the kids' accounts, she's not entitled to my pension, and she's off the major credit cards. It kind of pissed her off. Took the opportunity to call and scream at me about everything I did wrong that led to this."
She watched him sit on the edge of the bed, then dropped right next to him. Both of her hands fell into his lap, wrapped around his knees. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
Making a face, he kissed her again. "She did say something…that got to me." He dropped his chin into the bend of her neck and kissed the thin skin behind her ear, making her moan and shudder once. "She said she resented my job, that she felt like a single mother most of the time because my job came first."
"That's bullshit," she offered, pushing him back so she could look into his eyes. "You were always the most devoted father, you are, and it's one of the reasons I fell in love…"
His lips stopped her. Grinning against her mouth, he worked their bodies back into the middle of the mattress and tugged open her robe while he kicked off his pants. "I tried," he sighed once they settled. "I swear, I tried so hard to be there for every damn minute of their lives, and she fucking knows that. That's not what got to me," he exhaled.
"What did?" She brushed her lips over his, nuzzled his nose with hers.
"She told me when and how she realized I wasn't neglecting the kids." He pulled her closer. "She knew; she saw it all happening. I wasn't an absent dad at all; I just wasn't by her side anymore for her to see it." He inhaled. "I was always with you. Took you to the games, plays, concerts, school art shows, and conferences…yeah, it was easier because it kept you from calling me in the middle of it all when we caught something, but more than that…" he smiled. "She told me she couldn't believe how hard I tried to ignore the fact that I would rather raise my kids…with you. That's why she was yelling at me, because what's happening now…should've happened years ago."
"She's right," Olivia muttered. She laughed as she sunk into him and felt his hands smooth down her back. She yawned and then said, "It should've, but we're here, now." Her lips pressed to his chest once. "Your kids are down the hall, safe and sound, and in four hours, we're taking them to Church, brunch, and…."
"And then Fin and I are heading to Queens, emptying the storage locker, and putting together a nursery that, God willing, we're gonna need soon." He held her tighter and felt her slipping off to sleep in his arms. He let out another slow breath and whispered their prayer one last time and then smiled. "I can't wait," he whispered, dragging one palm over to cup over a nonexistent swell at her stomach. "I love you."
He fell asleep before he heard her say it back to him, too exhausted and eager for the morning ahead and the surprises he had in store.
For everyone.
A/N: Family Sunday comes with some tension and a conversation with Fin. Next?