Author's Note: So, this was supposed to be Elliot and Olivia dancing at Fin's wedding. It grew legs on me and ran away.

This is a direct sequel to "All My Instincts, They Return," but can mostly be read without knowing that fic. The gist: Elliot's phone was compromised by the Wheatleys, and recordings taken from his phone were uploaded to a mysterious cloud account. Super hacker Jet is on the case. (I'd still go read the original story, but that's me.)

Minor Rollins/Carisi, background Fin/Phoebe, and various friendships within the squad, Rollins & Olivia being the most prominent.

Title taken from "Angel Eyes" by the Jeff Healey Band.

One week.

It had been one week – seven days – since the night with the Wheatleys in the interrogation room. Since the night he ran to Olivia in a fevered panic to ensure her safety. Since they'd laid in matching cheap motel beds and holding each other's hands while he confessed what Richard had said to him. Whether it was meant as a cruel taunt or something more indicting, it had the same effect on him either way.

And to her credit and his confusion – not that he was complaining, not at all – she hadn't run away at his confession.

Something had shifted between them that night. It was a small shift, to be sure, imperceptible to most – but Elliot wasn't most, he'd been living out half of this story for as long as it had been told. Her smiles came a little easier; her laughter was a little lighter and more frequent. She wasn't clinging to him, by any means – he didn't tend think of Olivia as a clingy person, anyway, not when she was so fierce and independent – but they were closer now than they'd ever been before.

He took his phone out of his pocket and smiled when he saw the latest text message from Olivia. Her and Noah were on their way over to Maureen's – Maureen, with help from probably every other Stabler child, would watch Noah while he and Olivia went to Fin and Phoebe's wedding. "I promise we won't traumatize him too badly," Maureen said. "We're probably going to pop a bunch of popcorn, watch Pixar movies, and see what the kid's made of when it comes to Uno."

"I'm trusting you," he'd said, with the fatherly tone of reproach he'd perfected over the years. "I wish I could be there to watch the handoff, but I have to check in with Jet before I head over to the venue."

"I understand. He's in the best possible hands, Dad, don't worry."

"I'm a cop, sweetie. Caution is the confirmation name they give us when we get our badges."

"I know." He heard his daughter laugh; she'd always had her mother's laugh, which was vaguely unsettling now that she was gone. "Oops, Kathleen needs me to help her. Something about the curling iron. Have fun tonight with Olivia."

"Tell everyone I love them. Bye." The call ended, and Elliot squared his shoulders. He'd been sitting idle in his car outside the warehouse while he talked to Maureen; his neatly-pressed, impeccably-tailored suit hung in the backseat, with a selection of Italian silk ties – he was still holding out hope that one of the girls would send him a picture of Olivia's dress on the sly so he could coordinate with her. He picked up a small bag from a local import store and went inside.

Jet was hunched over her keyboard as Elliot walked into the warehouse, and he heard the comfortable rat-a-tat-tat of the keyboard clicking. Hard at work. Good. "Hey," she said, lifting her head as his footsteps became audible. "Glad you made it, Stabler." The dark rings around her eyes weren't one that looked like they'd been made by eyeliner, and he knew she'd been hard at work on their case.

"Promised you this for the whole phone thing," he said, handing her the bag. "Don't drink it all in one place, but –"

"You are a God among men, Detective Stabler." She pulled out two large jars of Illy Classico coffee beans with a measured gasp of awe. "As you can see, I clearly need this very, very much."

"It's the best I could do without flying to Rome and bringing some back for you in my carry-on."

"I'd say this is a lot better than whatever brand it is the NYPD provides for us in their budget." She turned one of the jars over in her hands and grinned.

"I believe they call that no-name river sludge they imported from the banks of the Hudson. Maybe Jamaica Bay if they're feeling exotic. They probably use convicts on work-release to harvest it and save an extra penny or two."

Jet laughed. "No, but seriously, this is amazing. Hopefully you're not going to want to take these back once you hear what I have to tell you, because I've already laid claim to them."

"Is it about the cloud account you found?" He could almost imagine the kinds of recordings that he'd provided it. So many things about routine police business, coordinating the drops, conversations with his kids – with Olivia – and the things he said when no one else was around. There were so many things that he thought were only between him and God, and with how many nights had involved finding temporary absolution at the bottom of a bottle lately, he wasn't entirely sure what he'd said aloud.

"Yeah, so, the thing is, it's still updating with new material, even after I gained access. There's enough on these recordings to bring down half of the people who hold any power in this city, and make the other half sick with worry."

"You think he'd resort to blackmail?" With as many tools as Wheatley had in his arsenal – and he knew the man had many – he would have thought blackmail was too common. But maybe that was the beauty of it.

"You think he wouldn't? You've heard about that sociology professor from Hudson who got fired for posting an anti-Trump meme on Facebook and refusing to delete it, right?"

"Yeah? What about her?" He remembered seeing the story one day scrolling through the internet, at least.

"Turns out Wheatley has a recording of Representative Dillon persuading President Weiss to fire her for it." Jet made little air quotes. "I imagine if this conversation were to be released to the media, both Dillon and Weiss would likely find their careers in shreds."

"Because Weiss would also determine if Angela had a job or not, and if he has this over Weiss, then he controls Angela's employment." Elliot was beginning to see how this all tied together. "Wheatley can't stand not having control."

"That's an understatement, if we look at all the files I've found. It's got the potential to be another Watergate, with the recordings to back it up."

"I trust you've been careful."

"I'm wounded!" She clasped her hands over her heart and grinned. "What do you take me for, Stabler, a novice? I hacked my first website – okay, it was actually my mom's email – when I barely knew how to spell my own last name."

"And why were you hacking your mother's email?" He clicked his tongue in mocking disapproval. At least none of the kids had ever asked him for any of his codes or passwords – it would have exposed the Olivia situation long before he was ready to admit it.

"I had to find out if Santa was really going to bring me a pony for Christmas." She frowned. "I never got it, but I did find out she was spending a lot of time with Pastor Greg besides on Sundays. Turned out later they'd been having an affair." She shrugged her shoulders and slid forward in her chair, propping herself on the desk with the delicate tips of her fingers. "Point is, I've been doing this about as long as I've been alive. I know what I'm doing. Keep up."

"Fair," he said. Kids these days were practically born into a world of digital avatars, he should have known better than to question her on it. "Anything in those recordings you've found that I should know about?"

"Still sifting, but I'd be careful tonight. Your phone's been detached from the account, as I told you, but with the hundreds of other phones that are still on it – I can't promise no one else at that wedding is going to be bugged."

He nodded. It was the pronouncement he'd come to expect. "Is Olivia's possibly one of them?"

"Not that I've found. I don't think he could ever get to her directly, for some reason. Only to the people around her – like you."

There was a measure of relief as he heard her words. He'd long ago realized that the kind of person he was naturally invited some degree of trouble into his life, and while he innately knew Olivia was cut from a similar cloth, he couldn't bear the thought of her being someone's target. "Thanks."

"You're not wearing that tonight, are you?" She quickly checked him over. "I mean, I know Olivia would still want you if you were wearing a potato chip bag, but blue jeans to a wedding? C'mon."

"I'll have you know I have my suit in the car, thank you very much." The jeans were nice, but they'd be better for a casual walk in the park, not the wedding of someone he'd known nearly as long as he had Olivia.

"And what time did you say the wedding was?"

"It's in –" He checked the time. "Shit, I should have left like ten minutes ago." It wasn't like he was the guest of honor – maybe at one time, he could have sweet-talked his way into being a groomsman, but not anymore. But he did want to get there on time and not miss any of the festivities. "Do you think Bell will mind if I use the facilities here to get ready?"

Jet pantomimed zipping her lips shut and tossing an invisible key high into the air. "You keep me rolling in this delicious good stuff, I'll keep any secrets you want," she said, pointing to the jars sitting on her desk. "Seriously, this smells like actual coffee. Folgers can fuck it."

Supplying his computer specialist with quality coffee – and thus giving him an excuse to visit the little import store he'd found through word of mouth – was well worth the cost, at this rate.

Moments later, he walked out in his suit after doing a little freshening up. "Okay, I need a verdict here, and you're the only person around, so," he held up two ties, after whittling it down from the four he'd brought with him. "Which one of these should I wear?"

She pursed her lips together and squinted at the two. "I'd definitely go with the navy," she said, shaking her head. "She won't be able to look away."

"Thanks, Jet," he said, instinctively tying the knot. "Thanks for the update too."

"Oh, before I forget, one last thing about that. That account appears to be registered to an email address I've pinged back to Dana Wheatley." Shit. It made sense that she wasn't as innocent as she'd might have appeared at first. She was her father's informant, and sometimes, the person who held the information was more important than the person in charge. "Go, though. I'm going to soak in coffee nirvana and you'll save your favorite computer specialist some yummy wedding cake, won't you?" She grinned at him. "Go."

She didn't have to tell him twice. With a quick goodbye, he was out the door and speeding off toward Fin and Phoebe's wedding venue, trying to make up for lost time. Whether he was making up the half hour or so he was behind schedule, or the ten years he'd disappeared from her life, or the twenty-two years he'd been secretly in love with her – that was the question.

"You girls really didn't have to do all this," Olivia said, as she brushed her hands over the front of her dress and looked at her reflection sideways in the mirror. "I would have been perfectly fine dropping Noah off and getting to the wedding."

"Nonsense," Kathleen said, wielding her mascara brush and stroking it along Olivia's eyelashes. "Think of this as our way of thanking you for making our dad see some sort of sense."

Maureen ran the curling iron through a few chunky locks of Olivia's hair, giving it a gentle wave. "He really has been doing better lately. I don't know what it is. He's not back to his old self – but he's getting closer, and honestly, that's what Mom would have wanted."

"You think so?"

"In some way, I think she always knew," Maureen said, flipping the curling iron a final time. "I don't pretend to understand you and Dad and Mom and what that was all about, none of us do, but that's okay."

"Sometimes, I don't think I really understand it all myself," Olivia said. Her thoughts trailed back to that first day in the precinct, so long ago – her, the newbie, the rookie, meeting her new, more experienced partner for the very first time. There had been an unmistakable swagger then that had seemed slightly off-putting – for about as long as it took her to realize that there was far more to Elliot Stabler than met the eye. Which had been about two weeks after she'd arrived, give or take – once she saw how he comforted a young girl who'd been forced to witness her mother's death, she knew that this man was someone special.

And he'd given her so many countless reasons to continue to believe in him in the years that followed, she'd lost track of them. Somewhere along the way, she'd fallen in love with him and convinced herself otherwise; honor above all, that was their creed, and she was duty-bound to it, and would do everything in her power to make him right by it too.

And now, somehow, even after ten years of painful separation and the lingering questions and the sting of betrayal that was only now finally beginning to abate, there they were. And she was in his adult daughter's house getting ready for the wedding of one of her oldest and dearest friends, where she'd see him in a matter of an hour or so.

"Dad keeps trying to convince us to send him a picture of you in your dress," Kathleen said, shoving a pretzel stick in her mouth as she responded to her text chime. "I don't know how many times I've told him that that is confidential information on a need-to-know basis. If he can tell me that when I asked him if he was taking us to Disney that one time, I can tell him that now."

"He's acting like a teenage boy on prom night," Maureen said with a laugh. "Then again, he and Mom probably didn't really get a prom, what with –"

"Yeah, yeah, you ruined that by simply existing, Mo," Kathleen retorted, but her grin showed the sisterly love beneath the ribbing. She swiped a lip gloss applicator across Olivia's lips as Maureen put the finishing touches on her hair. "What do you think, Olivia?"

"Mom! Mom! Eli found Bagel Bites in the freezer, can we have some, please?!" Noah burst into the room waving a box of frozen food in the air, with Eli tagging along just behind shaking his head. "Whoa, Mom, you look pretty! Please, can I have some Bagel Bites? I won't ask you for anything else tonight!"

"Well, sweetie, I'll be leaving for Uncle Fin's wedding soon, so I'd hope you'd ask Maureen or Kathleen if you needed anything else, but yes, you can have some, if Eli shows you how to make them." She looked at herself in the mirror and smiled. Pretty was an understatement, but she'd take the compliment from her own son. The Stabler girls had really done a great job with elevating her look for the evening. "And Kathleen, Maureen – you did an amazing job. I'd cry, but I don't want to smudge the mascara you put on!"

"We used waterproof mascara for that very reason," Kathleen said, grinning. "Works like a charm, so you don't get raccoon eyes tonight."

"Oh, come here, you two!" Olivia exclaimed, and hugged the two women tightly in a group embrace. "This really meant a lot. Thank you for the makeover, and for watching Noah. I usually try to get him in bed around 8 or so on the weekend, but it's a special night and I won't be mad if he misses his bedtime."

"Works for me, Olivia," Maureen said. "If we pinky promise not to send the pictures to Dad until after the wedding, want to take a few? You look so stunning; it'd be a crime not to capture the moment."

"Believe me, she takes her pinky promises deadly serious. It might as well be a solemn blood oath." Kathleen rolled her eyes. "You take one extra cookie and it's the silent treatment for an entire week."

"Yeah, because I'd made those for Luke, that cute boy in my biology class! Letting you have any was me being incredibly generous!"

Olivia sat back and laughed to herself watching the two sisters playfully bicker with each other. She'd never been privy to conversations like this before, being an only child who didn't have any cousins to substitute for siblings, and Noah was an only child himself. It was beautiful to watch, if only for the sheer banality of it: a luxury, given what she dealt with at work. Her heart ached with unrestrained longing; her greatest desire had always been to give Noah what she had never been able to have, and this precious time with three of the five members of the Stabler brood would be the closest he'd ever truly come to it.

They snapped a round of pictures outside by Maureen's porch. The sun glinted off Olivia's hair and brought out her caramel highlights as she posed by a flowering bush, first by herself, and then joined by various combinations of Kathleen and Maureen, and a fleeting one with Eli. They even managed to drag Noah away from his prized Bagel Bites long enough to get a picture with his mother. "You be good for the Stablers, okay, sweetie?" she said, pressing a kiss to the top of his unruly curls and giving him a final hug. "Love you."

"Love you, Mom," he said, squirming out of her embrace and making a beeline back toward the kitchen. "Tell Uncle Fin hi from me."

"I sure will," she said. "You swear those pictures aren't leaving your phones until after the wedding?" It wasn't like there was some superstition about your maybe-date to your friend's wedding not seeing your dress before the ceremony, but some part of her was tickled about the secrecy of it. Plus, she knew it was driving Elliot crazy.

"Promise," the two Stabler women said in near-perfect unison, practiced over the decades of being sisters. They looked at each other with matching grins. Their father could afford to hold on a little bit longer, but they could at least torment him with one little piece of knowledge.

Olivia waved as she pulled away in her car. A small part of her was sad that she wasn't riding to the wedding with Elliot, but she'd known it was unlikely. Plus, they'd spent enough time together – what with his increased level of concern for her and Noah's safety since the recordings had come to light, and all – that it was nice to have a moment to compose her thoughts privately.

She was beyond happy for Fin and Phoebe, but she couldn't help but feel as though going to this wedding only highlighted the fact she was still alone. Not only was she still alone, but she'd never even tried the commitment thing; she tended to get the hell out when things got too serious. Her mind flashed back to the night in the motel room – his quiet whispers of love and reassurance, when he'd thought she was too far gone to hear her, still echoed in her head.

"You know, I meant it when I said I love you. Wheatley also said you were the one true love of my life, and I couldn't deny it."

It was everything she'd ever wanted to hear him say, but she had no idea what to do with the words now that he'd spoken them and given them life. He wasn't drunk; she would have known, since she'd been with him for hours before that part of the night and he'd barely even touched the coffee at the diner, so she couldn't even blame his loosening of the tongue on the lure of alcohol.

The thing was, hearing him say those words felt right in a way that it never had coming from anyone else. If any other guy she'd ever gone on a date with said that to her, she would have asked him what corny-ass romance novel he'd thumbed through on the drive over. But from Elliot – they rang of his truth, as pure and as simple as he could make it.

Nothing between them had ever come easy; they'd had to fight and claw their way for every scrap they'd ever been able to gain. And if this was where it all culminated, then it was their form of an imperfect destiny that awaited them.

"Olivia's wearing black," Kathleen's text message read. "And that's all you're getting out of either of us. Have fun. Don't do anything we wouldn't."

Elliot's lips formed a little o-shape as he pictured Olivia in a little black dress. It was a good thing he'd been at a stop light when she'd sent the message, or she might have caused a traffic collision with the images that played through his mind.

Whatever style the dress was, he knew that what he built it up toward in his mind would pale in comparison to seeing it in person.

He hit the accelerator and willed himself to magically teleport to be there already.

It was a small group at the wedding venue, for being planned in the middle of COVID's uncertainty. There were a handful of Fin and Phoebe's family and friends milling around the deck overlooking a particularly scenic part of the Hudson River. Olivia happened to pull into a parking space right as Amanda pulled into the adjoining one. "You look wonderful!" Amanda exclaimed, hugging Olivia as they got out of their cars and began the short walk across the parking lot. "That dress looks like it was made for you."

"You look amazing too!" Olivia felt the lightest she'd felt in a long time walking with her friend, a gentle breeze wafting through the trees. "Can I tell you something?"

"Yeah? What is it?"

"I actually saw this dress on a window mannequin when I had to question a witness at the restaurant next door. Something told me to go into the boutique after work and buy it." She smoothed the skirt under her hands, feeling the easy flow of the fabric rippling under her fingertips. It was really a nice dress to go to a late spring wedding in.

"When were you out questioning witnesses? I thought, since you were Captain, you didn't have to do that. That's what us minions are good for."

"It was during that week when Jesse had that weird stomach bug and you had to take her to the doctor, Fin was in court testifying in the Burnett case, and Tamin was with me."

"Oh yeah, I think I remember that, now. That's been a while."

"Well, I don't get a lot of chances to wear dresses like this." Olivia laughed and glanced at Amanda's knee-length jade-green dress. "Nor do you, unless you have a secret double life I don't know about."

"We'd give the perps quite a show if we decided to make every day at the precinct cocktail hour."

The two women joined in raucous laughter as they came up to the entrance to the venue, and were greeted by a very dapper Sonny Carisi in a charcoal gray suit and a tie that was suspiciously close to the shade of green of Amanda's dress. "Evening, ladies," he said. "Really putting the special in Special Victims Unit tonight, I see."

Olivia leaned in close to Amanda after exchanging quick raised eyebrows and whispered, "remember, tonight, whatever happens – it's all between friends. I'm not Captain Benson tonight, I'm Olivia."

"It's the Vegas principle," Carisi said. "Sorry, I couldn't help but overhear. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, ergo, for tonight, what happens at the wedding, stays at the wedding."

"As long as no one commits any felonies, we should be good," Amanda said, agreeing with what he'd said. The others nodded in agreement. The last thing any of them wanted was for something to ruin Fin and Phoebe's special night.

It hadn't escaped Olivia's notice that Amanda's eyes had barely left Carisi's for more than two seconds since they'd met up, and it was beginning to feel incredibly personal and intrusive for her to stand there any longer and bear witness to another potential blossoming relationship. It wasn't as though it would be anything close to unexpected; no one who knew both of them would say that. "Well, I'm going to go see what everyone else is up to," she said, clearing her throat and pointing at the deck. "If you care to join me, I'll be over there."

It didn't surprise her one bit that her words seemed to have fallen on deaf ears, and as she walked over, she saw another familiar face from her past. "Captain Cragen, I can't believe you came," she said, giving her former captain a brief air hug. "I didn't think anything could pry you away from your fishing boat."

"Well, you know, Captain Benson," and her heart swelled when he emphasized the fact that they were now equals; he'd been her mentor and taught her a lot of what she knew about SVU, it wouldn't have been possible if it wasn't for his guidance, "I didn't think so either, but when one of the very finest detectives I ever worked with decides to settle down, I'm not going to say no to toasting the accomplishment. The local fish are relieved that the menace is gone for a few days, I'm sure."

"I'm really happy for him," Olivia said. "Phoebe seems like she's really good for him, and they're a great couple." She didn't know Phoebe as well as she might have wanted, but she trusted Fin's judgement. Plus, they'd always gotten along great the times they'd met.

"Yeah, well, that didn't stop any of my ex-wives from divorcing my scrawny ass," another voice echoing from the past said from somewhere behind her. "You look radiant, Olivia. Being Captain must really agree with you."

"Now I know I'm hallucinating," Olivia said, laughing as she turned to see Munch standing there, a champagne flute hanging loosely from his hand. "John Munch, live and in the flesh! When was the last time we saw each other – the time you tried to turn my toddler into an anarchist?"

"Hey, all I did was tell Noah not to believe everything he hears. If that makes him a pint-size Proudhon, then that's on him, not me."

"It's fine, really. All it means is that if he wakes up one morning and starts trying to 'educate' me on the 'truth' behind one of your pet conspiracy theories, I know exactly who's to blame." She sighed happily and breathed in the warm, early evening air. It was nice to be able to relax and banter with old friends, especially after the extra-trying year they'd all had.

"Is Stabler coming?" Munch asked, scanning the crowd from behind his tinted shades. A few more people had filtered in, but it wouldn't likely get much larger. "I heard he was back in town."

"He'll be here," Olivia said. "He had to check in with someone on his task force and then was coming straight here after that."

"Wow. The whole band, back together again, one night only," Cragen said. "Unless you and Stabler –"

"Sorry to disappoint, Captain, but we're not." She didn't know what they were or weren't; they'd always existed in a nebulous zone beyond mere friendship but before physical intimacy, defying true definition. But whatever they were, for now, she knew they weren't what Cragen thought they could be.

A tiny, perky redhead clapped her hands in the air and all eyes in the crowd turned to focus on her. "If you're here for the Tutuola-Baker wedding, the ceremony's about to begin by the gazebo! And if you're not here for that, then sorry, you're definitely in the wrong place!"

As the crowd parted and shifted toward the gazebo, Olivia felt a vague warm, familiar presence settle in her gut. It had become a foreign sensation for a while – ten long years, to be exact – but now it was back with a burning vengeance. "You came."

Words failed him when Elliot saw Olivia from a distance, and as he walked up toward her, he only grew more flustered. It was impossible for any woman to be this beautiful, and yet, here she was, living proof that he could be proven wrong on a daily basis. And he'd happily be proven wrong for the rest of his life if it meant she was there by his side.

Sitting through this wedding was going to be the most exquisite form of torture, especially as all he wanted to do was take her in private and tell her – if not with words, actions would suffice – how much she'd always meant to him. "I wouldn't have missed this." His voice was choked thick with emotion as he looked at her. "Liv, you look –"

"You don't have to play the cat who ate the thesaurus game with me. Noah said I was pretty, Maureen said stunning, Amanda said wonderful, Carisi made a terrible pun about Amanda and I putting the 'special' in SVU," she rolled her eyes, and Elliot let out a short bark of a laugh, "and Munch said I looked radiant."

"Is all of the above an option? Because if so, I choose that one." He couldn't get enough of looking at her in her dress, and he was so glad Jet convinced him to wear the tie he was wearing. His heart was racing in his chest, and he prayed that she couldn't hear it. Or that if she could, that she'd understand it was because the last thing he wanted to do in this moment was make a mistake. "I believe I heard the ceremony was about to begin, so, would you do me the honor of accompanying me, Liv?" He offered his arm out to her, and she looped hers through his, her fingers curling possessively around his bicep.

"I'd be honored, El."

They made their way to where everyone else was, over by the gazebo. Little white string lights flickered above them; with it being a second wedding for both bride and groom, planned in the middle of the uncertainty of the pandemic, it was never going to be a showy affair, but there were enough small touches to show that care and planning had been put in. The seats they found happened to be right behind where Carisi and Amanda were talking in low whispers, her head resting on his shoulder, and his hand resting lightly on her knee.

"They look cozy," Elliot said, remarking on the couple in front of them. "I take it they're to you like you and I were to Cragen?"

"Used to be, when he was one of my detectives, but now that he's the ADA, it's changed a bit. Old habits die hard though, whenever he stops by."

"I believe it."

Music swelled in the background, and Elliot grasped Olivia's hand. Weddings were all about celebrating connections, and in the moment, all he wanted was a physical connection between him and the woman he loved more than he'd ever allowed himself to admit before. She let out a small gasp, but smiled up at him.

That smile reminded him of everything he'd done right in his life, to have someone like her smile at someone like him.

The ceremony itself was short, simple and sweet – Fin had written his own vows, and Elliot could have sworn that the groom looked into the audience and found Elliot to stare pointedly at when he said the line, "we wasted a lot of years not being together when we could have been, but you can't change what's already done. All you can do is take every chance you have now and change your future before it's too late."

As the officiant proclaimed Fin and Phoebe husband and wife, and they kissed for the first time as a married couple, Olivia looked up at Elliot with a content look on her face. "You seem to have a lot on your mind," she said in a soft whisper. "You okay, El?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said, and hoped she wouldn't question him any further. She probably thought he was thinking about Kathy and missing his dead ex-wife after only a few months of being a widower. And it wasn't that he wasn't, but his thoughts were more directed to the lovely woman who was currently next to him. They always were, and that had been the problem with his marriage for roughly twenty-two years, give or take. "Just – really happy for Fin and Phoebe."

"Ah." And mercifully, she left it at that, as the throng of happy observers, flush with witnessing the vows that tied Fin and Phoebe together, began to disperse for the reception that was soon to follow.

The champagne flowed freely at the reception after the cake had been cut, and Olivia was certain that was the one area the happy couple had chosen not to skimp on. "Nice vows, Fin," she said, embracing him with a joyous grin.

"Thanks, Olivia," Fin said. "I had a little help from Carisi in making it sound – you know, proper and all that. If I'm doing this again, I'm doing it right." He cast a glance across the deck to where Phoebe was chatting with some of her friends, and Olivia could see the look of a man in love radiating in his eyes. She'd never seen a guy look at her like that before, except for Elliot, and he'd always made it seem so natural of a progression that it took her a while before she realized that wasn't actually his default expression. "She deserves it. So do you."

She cradled her champagne flute in her hand and gave him a small, wistful smile. "That means a lot coming from you, Fin."

"Stabler finally get his head out of his ass? I saw you two were awfully close during the ceremony, same for Rollins and Carisi."

They shared a laugh; Olivia was surprised that even in the swirl of emotions he'd had to been feeling standing there with Phoebe, he could be perceptive enough to notice something like her and Elliot, or Rollins and Carisi. "I don't know if I'd go that far, but he's been keeping a close eye on me since they arrested Wheatley," she said.

Fin nodded in acknowledgment. He'd been there the day they swept the precinct for bugs earlier that week – the only ones they'd found had been ones the exterminators could take care of, nothing for TARU to worry about, but Olivia had extracted a promise from them that they'd come back by for periodic checks, at least while Jet was still figuring out the depth of the infiltration. "Good for him. I'd hate to have to kick his ass back to Italy when he's only just gotten here again."

"Oh, believe me, I think there'd be a line-up of people who would be itching to do it in that case, and half of them would also have the name Stabler," she said, sipping her champagne. She could see Munch and Elliot laughing nearby – she thought she could hear the words Mafia and JFK, and maybe Munch thought Elliot would finally be able to solve that mystery once and for all now that he was working for Organized Crime. Amanda was eating a crab puff that Carisi had handed her from his plate, and the ambient music in the background made it feel like a night where every opportunity was within grasp, if they only dared to go for it.

The music shifted, and the same redhead from earlier broke in – "I believe it's now time for the first dance of the evening," she said, and Fin and Olivia nodded at each other. Olivia stayed back by the table where the cake had previously been and watched as the happy newlyweds swayed to the classic baritone of Frank Sinatra underneath a gorgeous moonlit New York night.

It was good to see them so happy. She couldn't be more thrilled for them.

But some part of her would always wish she could have something resembling it for herself.

The music shifted, Fin and Phoebe left the dance floor, and Amanda made her way toward Olivia. Her face was flush with excitement and there was a grin plastered across her face. "He asked me to dance, Olivia!" she said, excitedly, with a glittering sparkle in her eye. There didn't need to be any explanation who the he was – Olivia could see Carisi shifting back and forth on his feet, rolls of anxiety clearly evident on his face. Amanda's expression faltered slightly, and she pursed her lips together as if her internal dilemma had come to a head. "But I don't want people to think that we're being inappropriate dancing together – you know, an ADA and a Detective that he works closely with."

Olivia lowered her voice and leaned in close to her friend and colleague, before she stage-whispered, "half the people here don't know who the hell you two are, and the half that do know, they'll either too far gone on the bubbly to remember a thing you and Carisi do tonight, or they won't care. I say, go get him."

"Only if you get your him too." The two women gave each other a quick friendly hug. "You're the best!" Amanda exclaimed as she bounded across the deck, a spring in her step that hadn't been immediately obvious before. Olivia suppressed a laugh behind her champagne flute and downed the last dregs before setting it on the table. Whatever happened next, she wanted to remember with full crystal, sober clarity.

The crowd – never full to begin with – had begun to thin some after the food and cake, and it wasn't hard to find Elliot, who was making small talk with someone Olivia thought she recognized as being a former Vice officer. As she approached, she could hear that the two men were discussing the previous night's Yankees game. "If their bats don't start to sizzle soon, this whole season's gonna be a wash," the other guy said, shaking his head furiously. "And then what, am I supposed to start cheering for the fucking Mets? Shit, my pops would roll over in his grave if he heard me say that."

Elliot said something she couldn't quite hear, but he'd clearly realized she was nearby, as his stance had shifted outward, as if to invite her in.

"Hey, sorry to interrupt the sports talk, you two," Olivia said, walking up to them and flashing her most dazzling smile. "I was wondering if I could talk to this one," she jabbed her thumb at Elliot, and his Adam's apple bobbed slightly in recognition, "alone for a minute?"

"Take all the time you need," the other guy said, "the Yankees will still suck tomorrow, but this pretty lady," his eyes traveled up and down, taking in her entirety, "might not be around." She felt a shiver course through her and bit it back – it wasn't as if she wasn't used to being objectified by perps and the occasional victim, but it was always a little unsettling to have it happen in such a personal setting, especially by someone she likely out-ranked in the hierarchy.

He wandered off, leaving Elliot and Olivia to themselves. Their portion of the deck directly overlooked the water, and Olivia breathed in the stillness of the air. Being a city girl her entire life, she'd never spent much time being one with nature – except for the occasional sojourn to the park - but there was something about it that felt cleansing. "He seems like a real character," Olivia said.

"I doubt he knew who you were," Elliot said. "He's one of Phoebe's squad. If he knew you were a Captain –"

"Yeah, but tonight, I'm not Captain Benson," she said, rolling her shoulders forward and releasing some built-up tension that had been creeping its way in. "Tonight, I'm Olivia, who happens to be a NYPD Captain. There's a difference."

"I happen to think both Captain Benson and Olivia are amazing."

She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. It still felt unusual to hear him giving her compliments, and she'd never been the best at taking them when they were offered, even with the best of intentions. "Sometimes, I think you're probably the only one."

"Don't sell yourself so short," he said. "I've known you a long time, Liv, and you've never failed to astonish me yet."

"Yeah," and her words were more on a breath than anything. "You said as much in your letter." The letter, which she had read and re-read countless times and practically committed the words to her memory. It sat folded at the bottom of her jewelry box, tucked in next to her high school graduation tassel and a Polaroid photo a former boyfriend took of her at the shore on summer break in college. She couldn't even remember the guy's name now, but the picture was one of her favorites that had ever been taken of her. It was, in a very real sense, one of her most treasured possessions – not that she'd let him know that his words had that effect on her.

"And I meant every word of that letter." He bit down on the corner of his lower lip and sighed. "I knew there was no way I could sit there and explain everything I wanted to say to you in a letter. Maybe a novel."

She rested her hand on his arm and smiled at him, and she could see the tension leave his face as he soaked in her smile. "I understand. That doesn't mean I'm not upset."

"I would be too if the situation had been reversed, believe me."

It was on the tip of her tongue to say that the situation never could have been reversed, because she would never leave him without saying anything, at least not without a really damn good reason – but it'd occurred to her that at the time, it'd probably seemed like the best decision he could have made and it was only after the horrifying clarity of hindsight and regret that he realized it was otherwise.

It didn't make it hurt any less; she was still furious, though it was a calm fury, borne of time spent in deep contemplation. But she was beginning to understand.

They were silent, watching the breeze create languid ripples across the water. Brilliant stars shining from a distance, along with the glow of the moon, reflected on the water and bathed them in a sense of serenity. Elliot placed his hand on the small of Olivia's back, and she exhaled delicately and leaned her head against his shoulder, rocking herself against his side. The music in the background still played, and the laughter of the other guests echoed, but it all seemed softer somehow, more distant. The wedding was in one world, and they were in another, entirely of their own creation.

She could hear his heart beating, and she laid her hand over his heart, allowing her fingertips to graze the fabric of his shirt. Never before had she been with someone who she could say so much to without speaking a single word. Where one of them ended, the other began. It was terrifying, and haunting, and wondrous, all at the same time, that not only had she found someone like that, but that he'd found her too. And even after all this time, there they still were – broken in ways they never had been before, but still utterly beautiful in their own way.

His breath caught in his throat at the realization of her touch. "Shh, it's only me," Olivia said, breaking their silence. "It's me. I've got you, El."

Her small declaration shattered the last fragile vestige holding him upright, and he sank against her as much as she was against him; they were melded and fused together by their desperate need for connecting with each other.

"And you wonder why I wouldn't have been able to leave if I heard your voice," he managed to croak out between ragged breaths, his hand gripping her around her waist tightly as he nuzzled his jawline into the crown of her hair and silently begged the tears that pricked at the corners of his eyes not to fall, not now. "You say things like that and I don't know what to do with myself."

Her hand clutched at his chest and crumpled the fabric lightly in her grasp. "So, if I keep talking, you'll never leave me like that again?" Her voice was a frail whisper, broken by the pain he'd inadvertently inflicted on her.

"Now that I have you back in my life, I don't intend to ever let you go." He'd never been a man to do things in increments; it was all or nothing. It'd been the character trait that'd driven him to the altar with Kathy as teenagers, the one that desperately kept his family together through everything, the one that drove him and Olivia apart for those ten excruciating years – and it was the one that brought them back together. He had his all in his hands, and there was no way he could let her go. He'd take on the devil himself and all his minions to protect Olivia and have her in his life.

"Good." She shivered slightly against him, and she nestled herself in closer. The water was beautiful, but the woman next to him even more so, especially from this perilously close of an angle. "I wouldn't want Fin to have to kick your ass."

"If you're cold, I can give you my jacket." It would probably look better on her anyway, but anything would. And he'd known Fin was probably itching for a reason to give him a piece of his mind, though his wedding wouldn't be the likely venue.

"No, I'm good just like this," she said, pressing her face into his shoulder, and he swore he could feel her smiling against his jacket.

How had he gotten so goddamn lucky?

Time seemed to have lost its definition and meaning in their makeshift world, and he wasn't sure how long they'd been standing there basking in the glow of the other's presence. But he'd made himself a promise the day he'd accepted Fin's invite, knowing she'd be there too, and he knew there was no way he was leaving without at least trying to fulfill it. "Can I have this dance?" he asked, taking her hand that had been laying over his heart and folding his hand over it. It wouldn't take much to shift from how they were to even the most simplistic of dance positions.

"I thought you'd never ask." She straightened herself and they began to gently sway together to the rhythm of a distant song, his arms wrapped around her waist, and hers looped lightly around his neck. Her eyes pierced straight through him with a loving intensity that would be enough to send him staggering to his knees if she wasn't propping him up.

As they twisted and turned and swayed, he knew there was nothing in his life that had prepared him for dancing with the woman in his arms. And if this was what it was like to dance with her, hold her tight, feel her steady breaths against him, he could only imagine what delirium would wash over him if he were to kiss her, to lay her across his bed and learn the contours of her body as she learned his, to show her the width and breadth and depth of the love that had always lingered somewhere below the surface and only now was beginning to show its true form. Time had done nothing but reinforce what was already there long before.

"El," she murmured his nickname in a throaty whisper. "Please."

It was the word he'd longed to hear from her lips the longest – well, that or "love," but "please" had always seemed the more likely, at least initially. But he had to make sure – his personal honor wouldn't abide him not ensuring he knew exactly what she was asking for. "Please, what?" he asked.

He heard her grunt in annoyance, and instead of her saying anything, she closed the last bits of distance between them with a press of her lips to his. It was only something that resembled chaste for the fraction of a second it took him to register what she had done; once he realized that holy shit, Olivia Benson is actually kissing me, it was all over. He opened his mouth to hers, and sought to claim for himself what he had always secretly craved. It wasn't a secret anymore.

The tip of her nose brushed against his, and he smiled into the kiss as he poured in every ounce of emotion he'd ever felt for her. She let out a small whimper, and her breath hitched, as he smoothed his hand over the curve of her hip and dragged her that much closer to him. This kiss – their first, but hopefully not their last – was his own solemn vow to Olivia: I'm not going anywhere, not without you, and what I feel for you is real. This is it, Liv. I promise you.

As they gradually and reluctantly broke apart, they leaned their foreheads against each other and gave one another the silliest, most lovestruck grins they could fathom. "Hi," he said.

"Hi, yourself," Olivia replied, catching her breath. "I – you – "

"Yeah, that about sums it up, I think." God, he didn't want to be presumptuous – but this was Liv – he could die a happy and content man just knowing how it felt to kiss her, to feel her lips under his own, to have savored the heat of her mouth. He wanted more, he always would; he wanted to know everything there was to know about her and to also discover the things that had gone unnoticed by the lesser men who had come before.

He knew he likely wasn't her first love, just as she wasn't his, but as the man of the evening had said in his vows only hours before, "You can't change what's already been done. All you can do is take every chance you have now."

He wanted to be her last love, the one that would go into eternity. And she was his.

There was no question in his mind about that.

Across the dance floor, Cragen muttered something unintelligible to Munch and slipped him a $20. "Looks like you were right. Lunch is on me next time I'm in the city, too, since it did end up happening tonight," he said.

"There's this steakhouse that supposedly serves steaks wrapped in edible 24-carat gold that I've heard raving reviews about," Munch said, taking the bill and slipping it into his pants pocket. "If, you know, you're offering –"

"Don't push your luck, John. They only kissed."

"Double or nothing on those steaks if we see a Benson-Stabler wedding in the near future?"

"Now that, you might have yourself a deal on."

"Aw, darn." Fin walked up to them and grinned at his two fellow conspirators. "I wish I'd gotten in on this little betting pool back in the day."

"Eh, Detective Jeffries was in on it too at one time, but she was more convinced they'd get together a long time ago. I think she'd be slapping herself – or some sense into one of them - if she realized it'd taken this long," Cragen said. "I think Cassidy was always convinced he could woo Benson himself, so he never wanted to join in our festivities."

"He was fighting a losing battle from the start," Munch replied, and Fin nodded along in agreement. "I don't know how we all saw it so clearly and they never did." Their little game might have started as a joke, once, after noticing how comfortable the new partners were together, but it'd proven to be enduring beyond anything they could have realized.

"Oh, they did," Fin said. "They did, and their asses were too fucking stubborn to do anything about it until now."

"Preach."

Olivia couldn't stop looking at Elliot and stealing flirtatious glances, but she'd noticed he was doing the same with her. It was as though they had granted each other the permission to finally say out loud the words they never dared before.

He'd wrapped his jacket around her shoulders – the first shiver, she had easily shrugged off as nothing, but he'd insisted after the second, and it was getting a bit chillier as the night went along. Probably being near the water had something to do with it.

The crowd had thinned down to only the people who were the closest to the couple, and even those were beginning to filter out. "Amanda and I were thinking about hitching us an Uber and going to the hotel nearby Fin and Phoebe suggested – it's late, who actually wants to drive back to the city now?" Carisi said, as the giggling younger couple approached them, "So, if you two want to save a tree or whatever and ride along –"

Olivia raised an arched eyebrow at Amanda – the secret, silent code for girl, tell me what's going on – and she mouthed back, "I'll tell you later!" The excited grin on her face and the giddiness in her eyes betrayed her though, and it was obvious something had happened between the two. Finally.

"You want to, El?" Olivia asked. She stretched her arms out above her head and mock-yawned very loudly. "I mean, I'm so tired, I don't think I could make the drive myself, and it's so nice of Carisi to offer, isn't it?" She threw a dramatic wink toward Rollins and Carisi, to add to the theater of the display.

"Sure, let's do that." The playful smirk she saw on his face was proof he'd picked up on whatever she had laid down, and was in no condition to argue with her about driving arrangements.

Fifteen minutes or so later, Roberto pulled up to the entrance in his black SUV. With best wishes for the newlyweds, fond farewells to old friends, and promises to reconnect over shared meals in the city at an indeterminate date in the near future, the four passengers traipsed to the car. Carisi helped Rollins in through one door, and Elliot did the same for Olivia on the other side, making sure the point of her heel didn't get caught in the mud puddle near the door.

They settled in for the short ride to the hotel. Olivia and Rollins – Amanda was her name, he reminded himself, and since she seemed to be a good friend of Olivia's, it was worth committing her name to memory – whispered back and forth frantically about God-only-knew-what. He had his suspicions, which were seemingly confirmed by the barest hint of a satisfied smile he could make out on Carisi's face.

Lawyers. You never could read them.

He checked his phone for the first time since he'd arrived at the wedding and was otherwise distracted. There was a new message from Maureen that he hadn't seen, sent about an hour before. "Hope you're having fun at the wedding, Dad! Thought you might like these. There's more if you want them." Attached were three pictures; one, a sweet shot of Noah hugging his mom outside Maureen's house earlier that evening, the second, a silly selfie with Maureen, Kathleen and Olivia mugging it up, and the third, one of Olivia by herself looking effortlessly stunning as she gazed dreamily into the camera, the late-afternoon sun illuminating her hair like a glorious, angelic halo.

Each of the pictures touched him deeply in a different way – seeing the connection between her and her beloved son, as well as the bond between her and his two oldest daughters, and his heart couldn't help but leap a little at the thought she was thinking of him when the last picture was taken.

Naturally, he'd ask Maureen for all of them, and at least one of them would make it to the frame on his desk at work, but she could wait until the morning. She probably wasn't expecting a response tonight, anyway.

What was left of tonight was for him and Olivia, and wherever that might lead. And where it lead, he would follow, as long as she was there.

No one – not even the Wheatley family – could change that.

-fini-