A/N: Another week, another spiral, another promo...tying some portion of that into this chapter, and probably some more with the next update. And of course assuming that I have it all wrong anyways :) Thanks for continuing to read and all the lovely words of support
Of course, the next time Olivia sees Elliot, there's no chance of saying anything at all to him. When Bell had notified her of the case, she knew it was Elliot's influence, though Ayanna didn't say it. She knew too it was just a matter of time before Elliot's path crossed hers. At least this time she would be ready.
It happens a few days into the case. She arranges to meet Bell's team at a location where they can take in the scope of the trafficking ring. Olivia knows they need to understand this, need to see what it means so they don't push it aside, ignore what is happening to these young girls. She understands without asking Ayanna that Elliot will make an appearance and she tells herself to focus on the work. There's too much at stake and the conversations that need to happen with him will have to wait for a better time. She has no idea when a better time will ever come. Wonders if maybe this is just their curse; their inability to sync their readiness, find the time that's right for them.
She thinks once more of the two missed calls on her cell phone, while she'd been in McGrath's office going over every single one of her fucking DD5s. She'd tried him, the moment the meeting had ended and she'd seen the calls. But of course, it went straight to voicemail, and she was long past done leaving Elliot messages. It still bothered her that he called and she'd almost called Ayanna to see if he was alright. But it felt like a stone left best unturned, and she'd steeled herself against the recurring thought for days.
Olivia arrives early, standing in the dark space, the building's pink exterior lighting casting a glow. There's something sexy about it. Or maybe that's her anticipation. She stares across the street, seeing into the neighboring windows bright with light. Sees the young girls dolled up and pranced around for men twice and three times their age and cringes.
Bell's shoes on the polished concrete steps reach her first, another set of shoes directly behind her, and Olivia turns and sees Ayanna and the other sergeant turn the corner into the space. Ayanna nods at her and seems like she's about to speak, when there's more sounds echoing in the stairwell and they look over in time to see Elliot emerge.
His shirt is half open again, the silver cross hanging low on his chest and she nearly rolls her eyes at this patented look he's got going for his cover. She has a feeling he enjoys it, even if it's not his usual taste. His chest is red, highlighted further by the pink glow around them and she tries not to think about all that exposed skin, all those muscles. For a second the feel of him wrapped around her waist, the strength and solidity of him comes rushing back and she turns back to the window to push it away.
"It's definitely trafficking." She says without preamble. "Based on the photos you sent we were able to verify with Albanian authorities. The youngest come over around 13, 14 years of age. Trafficked into low pay, high labor work, at some point into the sex trade for most of them. From there…well most don't survive past 21. As far as we can tell, it goes back at least 10 years."
Elliot walks past her, right up to the window and she can read the worry in him even without seeing his face.
"Did you find an Amelia?" His voice is gruff, angry.
"Yeah, she's in one of the brothels. They rotate the girls into these parties."
"She's alive?" His voice quieter and she knows then he's made some connection, that this is the reason this case landed in her lap. She thinks of that conversation with Amanda and she knows that her ex-partner cares as much about these survivors now as he did then.
"She's ok, Elliot. And," Olivia takes a breath and turns to Bell. "We're going to go in, get these girls out."
Ayanna seems resigned, her eyes on the floor as she considers. "I understand. But we can't afford for the high level players to get taken out just yet. We're close to making our case, and it'll be enough to tear the whole organization down, all of their work. If you take in the wrong people now…these organizations are like Hydras. Cut off one head and two sprout into place."
Olivia nods. "Based on the information you shared, we haven't seen your top players. No Albi, no Kosta. The men running these seem lower on the food chain and from what we can tell they're isolated from the other businesses."
Ayanna looks up at her, that grateful look crossing her face again and Olivia feels a mix of empathy and frustration. She knows Ayanna means well, believes in her work. But like so many others, she seems to place the victims of sex crimes lower in importance. In some ways, Olivia can't blame her. That's the system for you. Getting arrested for sex crimes had a lesser guarantee of charges, of severe punishment, than most other crimes. Even trafficking cases were sometimes hard to prove, hard to tie back to those truly in charge.
Olivia frowns as these thoughts mingle in her mind. The frustration of the past few months has been piling up; Garland and Kat's departures, McGrath and all his bullshit, her injury, the small voice in the back of her mind that piped up every couple of years and wondered if maybe she should hang it up.
Elliot's turned back around and even in the dim light, she can feel his gaze on her, can feel the way he's watching her every thought as if it's tattooed on her forehead. She shakes it off and refocuses.
"I'm not trying to get in your way, sergeant."
"Same, Captain. And I appreciate your discretion. My team can back you if you need it."
After the logistics are settled, Ayanna gives Stabler a look.
"I'll be by tomorrow, Sarge." And then the sergeants depart and it's just her and Elliot.
He's doing that thing again. Looking at her like she hung the moon. And it stirs up all the feelings she works so hard to suppress and deny. She doesn't trust herself when he looks at her like that and fights to keep her face still, to not smile back as she so automatically wants to. Right now that look is making her wonder what it'll be like when he finally kisses her. Her brain snaps back, like a rubber band at its limit, and she swallows down that giddy sort of feeling that's tickling her throat. She can't be thinking like that. Not when she's still so confused. Certainly not when he seems like such a mess. And definitely not when she's still so angry and frustrated and hasn't said a word to him about any of it.
"How do you know Amelia?" She asks, too exhausted to give him that piece of her mind she so badly needs to unload.
"She works at the café the Albanians run. She's just a kid, barely older than Eli."
Olivia nods and turns to the window and he steps up to her side. Her eyes refocus on their reflection, the pink lines striping across them and she sees him do the same, his eyes meeting hers in the glass. For a long moment they stay like that.
"Why'd you call last week?" He watches her lips move over the words.
Elliot thinks of the voicemail he almost left, the words he felt like he needed to tell her, just in case. What he really wanted was her voice, the reassurance he felt in hearing it. He thought hearing her would steady him, would give him something extra as he walked into this life or death moment. And at the very least, he thought he had to tell her. Had to. It felt as imperative as giving Eli one last hug. The need to make sure she knew, because she deserved to know. And if he wasn't going to make it, he didn't want her spending her life wondering what he felt for her. Of course, he doesn't want to burden her with this stress now.
He feels it now again. That urgency coming to the surface whenever he thinks of her. The same reason he'd just let it slip out during the intervention. He just needed her to know after so long not saying it, so many years apart.
And then he's speaking, words spilling out of him that he's rehearsed a thousand times. Words that might maybe mean something to her, he hopes.
"When I told you I love you," he sees her flinch, but her eyes stay on his in the reflection. Her jaw doesn't drop this time, she doesn't look away. Yet he can sense her surprise that he's bringing this up now, without warning.
"You know that I wasn't…I wasn't doing too well."
She blinks, her face so carefully neutral that he knows the effort she's putting into it.
"That doesn't mean it isn't true." He finishes on an exhale, the pressure in his chest released by voicing this thought cloud he's been carrying around since the intervention.
Olivia's still got that blank look on her face, her eyes analyzing him and he wonders what she sees.
He's wishing now he'd left that voicemail instead of deleting the words that felt incomplete. It just seemed to him that nothing could ever be adequate, no words would ever be enough to let her know what she means to him. What she has meant to him since the moment he saw her. What she meant to him across 13 years of partnership. What she meant to him during ten years of absence.
Yes, she is his rock, but she is also his moral compass, his north star, his one and only. Sometimes the word 'love' feels so inadequate for all that Liv is. Is it enough to say 'I love you' to the person who has made you who you are? Is it enough to say 'you mean the world to me' when she has actually brought color and joy and meaning to it? Is it enough to tell her 'it will always be you and I' when they've never had the chance they deserved?
She still hasn't said a word and he reaches down, clasps her hand in his own. "Liv," He turns towards her and tugs on her hand, coaxes her to face him, her eyes rising to his. "I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember."
She closes her eyes and just for a second he sees her relax, like he's said the one thing she needed to hear most. But then her brow furrows and she pulls her hand from his.
"I don't think we should do this now." She looks up at him once more and he can read the sadness in her.
"If this is about the letter, about Kathy-" She shakes her head at him but he keeps talking. "Liv, she cared about you. She really did. I think she…I think I just put her in a bad place. I stayed and I tried to make it work, but maybe that wasn't the right thing. I just hurt her and I think she was trying to find a way out of that. I know it wasn't right. I know I shouldn't have written that to you-"
"Elliot, there are…" She exhales hard, shakes her head, her hands lifting between them. "There are so many things. Yes, the letter and Kathy…that's a lot. But there's so much we haven't talked about. I felt like I was just coming up for air after you reappeared and then you just disappear into UC work again. I can't keep going like this. You tell me you're glad not to be you for a while, and how am I supposed to take that?"
"Ok," He nods, his hands closing over her elbows. "I hear you. I know things are a mess right now. I just couldn't leave things unsaid. I just needed you to hear me."
Her eyes drift to a spot over his shoulder. "I'm not ready to hear that right now." And he thinks she's realizing it as she speaks it out loud. "I thought I needed to know. But, Elliot...things are a mess. And I can't do this with you, I can't unpack the last ten years of everything, when you're just going to disappear again. You get how unfair that is, don't you?"
His hands drop away from her and he nods, accepting. "You're right. You're right."
She sighs, "I have to go." She finally says, softly. He wants to reach out and touch her, hold her, something. But he can see that now is not the time and after he'd barged in on her the other week, high and out of control, he doesn't want to do that to her again.
"I'm sure I'll see you, these next couple days." He offers instead.