Title: Chasing your Silhouette
Chapter One: Blur
Rating: M
Category: Angst/UST/RST/Partial AU
Summary: They'd learned each other's quirks and intricacies on the job—but when did it become over the line? When did physicality become a detriment to them once they've taken off their shields? When did they realize the line in the sand no longer existed? (This is meant to take place a couple weeks after "Zebras" – had to assume a timeline, I don't remember actual dates)
"Sometimes a change of perspective is all it takes to see the light" – Dan Brown
Note: Mild description of sexual assault/violence – it is not meant to trigger. Please proceed with caution.
Secondary Note: Sure, I'm definitely on the EO ship but I don't necessarily ascribe to the idea that Elliot would ever cheat on his wife. Creative liberties have been taken to alleviate such issues. Eli was never conceived and the marriage has never recovered since the initial separation in 2007, the status of their marriage is unresolved but in limbo. Don't come for my head.
No one else can disarm me
No one else has your light
-Edward Gamper "Stranger Love"
"Put your gun down."
It couldn't be real.
The blood, the wound duct tape around Elliot's wrists and across his mouth, the click of a bullet sliding out of the clip and into the chamber. The only sound that inspired any sense of clarity was the thudding of Olivia's heart in her throat as she stopped dead in her tracks. She tore her focus off of Elliot for just enough time to bear witness to O'Halloran's lifeless eyes. She walked right into it and let her guard down as the distress in his eyes pulled back her layer of protection. How could she be so stupid? Stuckey had her in the wrong spot and Elliot had already begun to pay the price as the punctures and slashes continued to bleed through his striped shirt.
"Okay, Dale. Okay," Olivia blinked and relinquished her sidearm, the shaking of her digits barely noticeable as she kept them extended.
Don't flinch. Don't flinch. Do not flinch.
Her inner mantra was stuck on repeat as the reminder of O'Halloran's corpse laying just feet away and her partner hung in the balance as some sick offering to the one holding all of the cards. She couldn't tell if it was Stuckey or herself that had everything to gain. She knew she had everything to lose. The line began to blur as the business end of Elliot's gun got a little closer and Stuckey's stance became a little less sure; he was shifty, aching to pull the trigger. Stuckey was capable of burying a bullet in the middle of her back, or her head, and leaving her for dead in the middle of the tech lab. Collateral damage. She was in the way. Her head was swimming, battling against the current as her blood pressure skyrocketed.
Think…What would Elliot do?
"What are you doing here, Liv?" Stuckey had disappointment flaring from behind his rage as he digested her arrival. "I didn't want to have to hurt you, too."
"Then, don't," Olivia's voice wavered, the scenario playing out in a dozen different ways as Elliot's muted breaths were audible from across the room.
"I don't have much of a choice now," Stuckey had that gun aimed high and true, inspiring nothing less than a hefty dose of tension as she swallowed more of her fear. "You've seen a little much."
"Let's all calm down," Olivia's method of reassurance was hovering between collected and methodical as her chest heaved, opting to pivot to look him in the eye with a certain level of assertion. "Okay, Dale? Just relax. Because you did good. Really good."
"What?" The confusion was real but he held his ground and stared her down.
"Well, I think it's pretty clear what happened here, right?" Olivia didn't think about it as she chose the only feasible way to undo what had already been done as she made a gesture toward O'Halloran's body on the floor then Elliot in the chair. "One of Harrison's crazy followers must have gotten in here. He attacked these two, you found the bodies, you secured the crime scene, and then you called me. Right?"
"I did?" Stuckey's eyes couldn't stay still as Olivia weaved the careful tale for him, desperation in her eyes.
"That's what I'm going to tell Cragen," Olivia nodded, squeezing the last bit of calm from her expression as she elevated her eyebrows and made eye contact with Elliot. "And then, you can finagle the forensics so everyone else believes it, too. SVU hero is killed in the line of duty. It's perfect."
God, I'm so fucking sorry.
Olivia knew it was a mistake to look at Elliot but it was a necessary evil to drive her point home. He would've done this and more if it were her in that chair; that fact was never in doubt. He'd been through the wringer and now she was twisting the blade a little further into him to really make it count. She'd give her life up to save his and that was the more acerbic part of the situation as she pushed her tongue against the roof of her mouth. It wasn't like refusing to take the shot but it almost felt worse as the silence from Elliot was deafening. He would just have to trust the method even if it betrayed every fiber of his being.
"You're lying," Stuckey's finger was lingering a little too long over the trigger, his tone elevated as he stared her down. "You're lying."
"You think that you're the only one whose life is hell because of this prick?" Olivia didn't waver with every syllable as she began to back up and let the first heavy-handed slap bite hard on Elliot's skin before it blurred into the second and third strike as she read him the riot act. "…'Liv, do this. Liv, do that.' I'm sick of it."
"No, don't," Stuckey wanted him muffled but Olivia's wheels were turning as the panic set in. "Don't!"
"Sick of it," Olivia muttered and gave the tape a firm, unforgiving tug from her partner's lips. "I want to hear him scream!"
"Don't you touch me, y—" Elliot's growl was cut short with Olivia's hand pushing against the knot of his tie as she wrapped her fingers around the material of his shirt and pushed her knuckles into his Adam's apple.
Olivia's knees cried out, yearning to buckle as she let the words slip free, the effort to keep a domineering stance faltering with every breath while towering over her seated partner. "Did somebody say you could talk?"
"Both of you, shut up!" Stuckey's face was red, the adrenaline pumping as the agitation nagged and nipped in the air, pushing the envelope a little further as he tested the boundaries. "Hit him again."
Elliot's eyes were locked on Olivia's. There was an immeasurable level of strength hidden beneath the glaring amount of vulnerability she possessed—it's what made him choose her too many times. It's what made her everything that he needed right next to him. It's exactly what drove him crazy. Her eyes glassed over and her lashes twitched as she held onto her control. She didn't need to say 'I'm sorry' out loud. It had already been scrawled all over her face as she gradually blinked and exhaled slow. They were stuck in a perpetual nightmare and the aggressive show was becoming difficult to maintain. He could see it in the depths of those deep, brown eyes. All he could do was narrow his stare and will her to finish what she'd started.
A means to an end.
"Don't do it, bitch," Elliot muttered and squeezed his fingers against the chair, bracing for the inevitable as Olivia's hand met his face again, encouraging a little more than a groan in the process, "Don't hit me ag—"
Olivia cut him off and gripped his neck, pressing the curve between her index and thumb against his windpipe to keep him from speaking. "No more orders out of you, pal!"
"I don't believe you," Stuckey was breaking, finally, and Olivia had finally gotten underneath his skin. "I don't believe you."
"If you knew half of what this prick has done," Olivia had her index directed firmly at Elliot, digging deeper as she rationalized every word and let them move her, cutting open another wound as each phrase became an excruciating plea, "Somebody needs to take him out. I just didn't know you felt the same way as I did. I never had—anybody that I could trust."
"Stuckey, don't listen to her, she'll turn on you the way she's turned on me," Elliot talked right over the top of her, adding to the torment that they were inflicting on each other as they laid it on thick and went to the extreme.
"Dammit, just shut up!" Olivia shouted and glared, sweeping her index at Elliot as Stuckey took particular offense to the outburst.
"We told you to shut up!" Stuckey pistol-whipped Elliot across the left side of his face, throttling him solidly before aiming the gun at Olivia.
Olivia's voice was ragged as Stuckey kept the gun trained on her, the wretchedness breaking free as she kept talking. "And when this son of a bitch is out of the picture, I'm going to need a new partner."
"What about Cragen?" Stuckey's eyebrows went up, attracted to the notion.
"I've got Cragen wrapped around my little finger, the same goes with Munch and Fin," Olivia was hopelessly clinging to getting him to lower the barrel as she held up her finger and attempted to ignore Elliot's disapproving groans. "Dale, if I say the word, you're it. Think about it, Dale."
"I like the sound of that," Stuckey tilted his head and smirked, his focus off of Elliot entirely as he nodded eagerly.
"You like it because we get each other…We're connected," Olivia knew how contrived it sounded but her body told a different story as she held out her hand and softened her facial expression to drive the point home, "We're connected."
"We are connected" Stuckey was still teetering on apprehension but his grip on that gun was softening, his enunciation faltering.
"Yeah," Olivia reached for his hand, moving just close enough to graze his fingers and get him to hold hers with a semblance of affection.
Come on, come on, come on.
"Let's take care of the third wheel," Stuckey rubbed her fingers and nodded his head as he started to move toward Elliot, a determined look on his face.
"Wait, just wait one second," Olivia was at a turning point as recklessness took over and she forced a smile while her fingers smoothed across the top of his hand, tugging Stuckey's focus back to her, "I want him to watch."
The knock at the door nearly took her breath away and elicited an involuntary gag as a wave of dizziness washed over her while she stood at the sink with the water still running. She splashed herself again with more urgency and wiped away the stray droplets as she turned the spigot until the flow stopped. That was all she needed tonight. Instant replay of one of her less graceful solutions that had the palm and back of her hand sore for two days. Olivia would've liked to admit that she knew why it was still rolling around in her brain but she couldn't pinpoint it even as the knocking continued with a little more urgency than the first time.
"Liv, a bathroom break shouldn't take this long. Are you ready for round two?" Elliot opened the door and raised an eyebrow at her as she palmed the porcelain, staring at her reflection in the mirror. "You can do whatever you're doing later. Russell is getting antsy and whining about sweat pooling in his asscrack."
Olivia shook her head and scoffed, the smirk resting on her lips as she tilted her chin to look at him. "He still hasn't waved the white flag and asked for counsel?"
"Nope," Elliot pushed the door against the stopper and leaned against the iconography, waiting impatiently for her. "There's a solid chance he's got a thing for you, though…might be why he's not asking for a lawyer."
"He's either brave or stupid," Olivia dragged her feet as she moved into the dimly lit hallway, shaking off the last of the flutter working through her belly. "I'm his type—let's not make this deep, El."
"Oh, by the way, Liv," Elliot stood in front of her as they approached Interrogation One, a crooked smile creeping across his face as he encroached on her personal bubble. "You better not go ducking out on me again because it's too hot in there."
"You turned on the heat again, didn't you?" Olivia slipped out of her jacket and swatted him with the overheated leather before he could reach for the door handle. "You're a royal asshole, you know that, right?"
"I'll see you inside, dear," Elliot shrugged his shoulders, laughed, and dodged the slap of leather against his exposed forearm.
"You're lucky I'm too hot to bruise your other cheek and match them up," Olivia turned around, flipping him the bird as she came to the end of the hall to put away her coat.
"You keep your hands to yourself," Elliot called out after her, a guilty smile across his face as he twisted the handle and gave it a push.
He really had jacked up the temperature. It was excruciatingly hot in the interrogation room. Olivia gripped the back of her neck and swallowed a groan as the wave of heat spread across her skin, awakening every pore as a bead of sweat kissed her brow as she went from the cooled space of the hall to the sweltering cage the interrogation room had become. Elliot narrowed his eyes at her, a not-so-subtle reminder that she wasn't going to go escaping their interrogation over a little sweating. She shifted her weight in her ankle-high boots and cleared her throat as Elliot's eyes burrowed a hole straight into her soul, refusing to back down. She would've been lying if she said the look he just gave her was ineffective but it was shifting her focus and tugging at the last of her sanity as their suspect continued to stonewall them.
Cat and mouse. The bait was out and he wasn't biting.
"You look really uncomfortable, Olivia," Russell had already, expertly, pushed every one of Olivia's buttons before she had made a rather prompt exit just thirty minutes earlier. "Can't take the heat?"
His inquiry wasn't without irony as he wiped the sweat from his neck and dried his palms on his pants. His skin had developed a reddish hue in patches and the staggered pattern of his open-mouthed breaths hastened. Of anyone in the room, Russell was the least skilled at executing a poker face. He grinned, his sleepy gaze fixated on Olivia as she moved behind the chair opposite his. He licked his lips as he immersed his attention fully on her; studying the sway of her hips even as Elliot's jaw tightened with displeasure.
"Oh, focus on yourself for a little while, Russell. The only words I want to hear out of your mouth is an explanation of why you restrained, raped, and mutilated four women in the last six weeks," Olivia snapped and slammed both hands on the edge of the table, barely making a hair flinch on her partner's body.
"You really don't want to keep pissing her off," Elliot had both sleeves rolled up, a light sheen of sweat across his brow and down the curve of his nose, still favoring the healing flesh wounds across his chest and ribs as he winced with a flex. "Playing games with her is a bad idea, buddy."
"That sounds like you're speaking from personal experience, Detective Stabler," Russell lit the match and ignited another fire as Elliot balled up his right hand into a fist.
I want him to watch.
"That shit isn't going to work on me," Elliot gritted his teeth, a flash of Olivia's fingers stroking Stuckey's cheek moving into his consciousness as his patience wore and the affliction twisted at his guts.
Elliot couldn't let it tug at him any further as he centered his concern on Olivia. Elliot already knew Olivia's breaking point and she was comfortably residing at the edge of it even as Russell Miller continued to man spread in his seat, a delightful sneer aimed at her. She was thoroughly done with his shit but four hours of interrogation needed to be worth something more than a foul taste in her mouth. He wasn't going to get away with this. Olivia's knuckles went white as she gripped the cold steel with the tilt of her head as she dug her chin into her shoulder. The slow blink was satisfying as her back went rigid after a necessary release of the palpable grip from the tabletop.
"How many false confessions have you inveigled from men in my position, Detective Benson?" Russell had gotten her attention with that one as she laced her fingers through her hair and snagged a couple of knots in the process. "Tight slacks. Low cut, tight tops that leave next to nothing to the imagination. Repeating the action of running your pretty, delicate fingers through hair that most red-blooded men would love to pull. I'm sure that it's done a healthy amount of coaxing."
"Well, I'm sure this is no surprise to you, Russell, but you're a predator and only predatory men would make something so innocuous become a device or a motivator for their fetishes…" Olivia couldn't help but laugh as she crossed her arms, letting sections of softly highlighted locks fall around her face. "Is that your motivator?"
"Oh, you're not going to redirect this, Benson. I have too many curiosities that need satisfied," Russell scrambled as Olivia found the trigger to flip the game on him, making him more irritated than she had earlier. "You like the attention, don't you? I bet you love knowing that you get stared at by that uptight mother fucker over there, huh? How many times do you think he's imagined undoing the zipper on those slacks?"
"Have I touched a nerve?" Olivia could feel the burning stare from Elliot as she diffused the bomb and stepped directly into his line of sight to soften the temper that was beginning to boil. "Sounds like I touched a nerve, doesn't it?"
"That's what it sounds like," Elliot had to move as he paced the floor and watched her tongue graze the edge of her lip.
I want him to watch.
Russell's left hand banged against the surface of the table, demanding their energy anchor on him as he scrutinized Elliot's movements. "Come on, Stabler, tell me how much it kills you that you haven't taken the initiative and sampled the product?"
"You fucked up son of a bitch," Elliot had done his best to not let it get to him but Russell had sent his rationality flying out a window.
"El…don't," Olivia grasped his bicep and redirected his torso, absorbing more of his heat than she'd bargained for as his chest thumped against her own.
"Oh, no way," Russell's laugh was entirely too loud as Olivia's grip persisted on Elliot's arm, the balance of her intensity meshing with a more frenzied one from her partner. "…You already have, haven't you?"
"Alright, enough," Olivia veered, converging at the edge of the table with a little more intensity as she gripped the table. "Was that the problem with your victims? Were they wearing tight, low cut clothing and suggestively touching their hair? Did you think it was all for you? Just couldn't stop yourself, could you? They were all there to be your playthings, weren't they?"
"You know it's always all for me," Russell lacked self-control and a filter as he jolted from his chair, lunging at Benson as his shouts echoed through the room. "Always!"
Elliot had been waiting for him to make an ill-advised maneuver for hours and all it took was getting a weak grip on Olivia's shirt to flick the switch. The sound of cotton and polyester ripping immediately preceded the haphazard and quick extraction of Russell's form from Olivia's immediate vicinity. Elliot knocked over two of the chairs in the tussle and took an elbow to the face as he wrapped his arm around Russell's torso, tugging him just enough to stop the flow of air to his sternum. A last hoorah of Russell's strength came in the form of a shift of his arms in such a way that the contents of the file went flying into every direction before landing in a scattered pattern on the floor. Russell flailed as Elliot swung him toward the table as the clang of cuffs reverberated in the air. Elliot bumped against Olivia's side as he secured Russell's hands behind his back. Elliot couldn't help himself as he took a whiff of her deodorant stifled sweat, citrus, and faint coconut while his partner beat him to the punch with the slapping of her own pair around Russell's wrists.
Her timing, as always, was impeccable.
"You know I could've gotten him just fine without you knocking him around," Olivia breathed heavily as she elbowed him and went to the glass to give it a couple of sharp pounds before moving back toward the mess they'd made. "Couldn't just let me have this one, huh?"
"Not that it matters but I had a little bit of a vested interest in putting a little bit of a hurt on him," Elliot tilted his chin, gesturing toward her ripped shirt as he caught his breath and heaved Russell to his feet as Fin and Captain Cragen opened the door. "It's exactly what it looks like this time…"
"Are you okay?" Cragen was parental in his assessment of the situation as he passed Olivia first, his voice barely above a whisper as she awkwardly held torn fabric between her fingers.
"I'm fine," Olivia said and turned her head toward Elliot. "He's the one that's doing all of the manhandling with fresh scabs on his chest and abs…I'm just peachy."
"Fuck you both," Russell fought against the cuffs as two uniformed officers pulled him toward the doorway, the spittle running down his lip as he struggled.
"Sounds like the conversation got a little dodgy in here?" Fin and Elliot had butted heads more than enough but the concern for Olivia was paramount as the reddened flesh of her ribcage peeked out from the ripped portion of her shirt.
"Nothing that we couldn't handle," Elliot sniffed the stale air in her absence from his proximity and dabbed the perspiration from his forehead, never once taking his eyes off of his partner.
Elliot's yellowed bruising across his left cheek stood out in the light as Olivia took a step closer, reminding her for the second time of the game they'd play to get out of a jam. It reminded her of every gamble she'd taken to save him even though she knew the reversal was bitterly true. The thought alone stole her oxygen as she contemplated the reaches of her partnership. She made eye contact with him in spite of her best efforts not to and the doubt crept in. She bit down on her bottom lip, held the ripped open section across her midriff closed, and ducked out of the room before Elliot could fully fathom what she had just done.
What Olivia hadn't anticipated was that he'd follow her around every corner.
"Liv, come on," Elliot pushed the door to the crib and found her sifting through a duffel bag for another shirt, her back to him with the ripped section of her top hanging off to one side. "Cragen's going to want to talk to us about what just happened in there and you ran out a little quick…"
"Can a girl change shirts so she's not flashing her fucking stomach to the whole fucking precinct or is that too much to ask?" Olivia was terse as she pulled a fresh top from the bag, refusing to grant him the courtesy of looking him in the eye. "I'd like some privacy."
"I'm sure you would but you're not going to get it," Elliot was unintentionally rough with her wrist as he spun her around, encouraging a yelp from her. "You act like I've never seen what you've got on under there."
"El…Jesus," Olivia let out an exasperated sigh and pivoted in her shoes as the cot rail pinched the backs of her legs until it dug against the material of her pants. "Why are you doing this? Wasn't all of that in there enough for today?"
"You can act like everything is fine and dandy, but I see right through your bullshit, Liv," Elliot was less concerned with the concept of her personal space and more focused on driving the point home as his knees brushed against hers. "Every single day, I'm running after your shadow, and even when I am facing you, you're pretending. Why?"
"If you've got something to say then just say it. Contrary to popular belief, I've never needed you to coddle me and that's not going to change anytime soon," Olivia squeezed the shirt between her fingers, frustration brewing as her partner's behavior seemed less like an unusual outburst and more like he'd been holding it in.
"So, you don't think about your power play with Stuckey at all?" Elliot took a step back from her and wiped the thin layer of sweat from his face as he craned his neck back, angling his eyes toward the ceiling. "I mean, really, Liv."
There it was. They'd tiptoed around it and pretended as though it didn't exist but it was real. It had taken weeks to talk about it and they'd both let it fester for a lot longer than they should have. The wound was open and Elliot wasn't going to let it go. Not that Olivia was doing anything about forgetting it. It had been haunting her and invaded wandering, waking thoughts on a daily basis. Olivia crossed her arms and shrugged her shoulders, the distant look in her eyes less than inviting as she trapped her tongue against her cheek. She didn't want him to know that she'd replayed the scenario a thousand times but the outcome was still the same every time. That acrid taste on her mouth, that look in Elliot's eyes, and a pang of agony over not being able to look away or close her eyes.
It was strategic. It had to be.
She did it all for him.
"What do you want me to say?" Olivia dodged him and moved toward the exterior wall, winding the fabric of the shirt around her hand while the ripped shirt continued to hang freely from her torso. "That slapping you around and saying really fucked up things about you didn't bring me personal joy? I certainly didn't want to force you to watch that cretin stick his tongue in my mouth, either. I thought you knew me a little better than that, El."
"I want you to tell me the truth, Liv," Elliot took a breath as he lowered his voice, the agony having its way with his senses as he stared at the floor. "I can't get the image out of my head and I had to ask myself if it was out of sick possessiveness but I don't think it's that."
"Why are you telling me this now?" Olivia leaned against the cold finish of the painted, cement brick and bit down on the swell of her lip. "I can't be your little sibling that you tower over and stifle whenever danger gets too close. I'm not property, Elliot."
"Eleven years, Liv," Elliot was fiddling with the tip of his tie, winding it around his fingers as he shook his head slowly, grappling with the words. "Eleven God damn years. Enough to go from zero to sixty and lose control of all of my faculties without so much as a lift of your fucking pinky. Eleven years of tucking away so much of my sentimentality when it comes to you that the sight of your lips on anyone else's…Despondency doesn't go far enough and all I can do is pretend that it doesn't piss me off. It does. It torments me. It kills me…it breaks my heart."
"You're a fucking piece of work, Elliot Stabler," Olivia's voice strained, a swarm of trepidation whirling through her chest as she fought the desire to hit him as his sky and steel lifted to stare into her soul. "I walked away from you once and I can do it again just like that."
"Just like that? No hesitation at all?" Elliot refused to shrink as his speech did nothing but piss her off as he groaned into the atmosphere. "I can't say that I wouldn't deserve it, Liv."
"I meant what I said, Elliot, about having rules and not breaking any more of them," Olivia had already broken them for lesser men but she let the comment slip free as though it carried a semblance of conviction. "It can't get personal."
"We're a little past that, Liv," Elliot wanted to shout at her but he held it in as he watched the indignance cover for confusion as he groaned, popped his knuckles, and pushed his sleeves up toward his elbows. "Everything fell apart…except for you. You were still here. You are personal and I don't want that to change."
"Whatever you've done with the Elliot Stabler I know, I need you to bring him back because this convoluted and confusing sender of mixed signals is like riding a roller coaster and I'm sure my lap belt is broken," Olivia hated being the equalizer but she was witnessing her best friend fall apart before her eyes as she shoved past him and reached for the door handle.
Elliot wasn't good at grandiose gestures or elucidating the details of his feelings until they were boiling over like a screaming kettle but he couldn't let her slip away again. He snagged one of her belt loops and tugged her backward, demonstrating one of his more agile qualities as he braced her back from smacking against the wall. Olivia's knees betrayed her as they shook, reverberated the sensation as the gooseflesh covered all the way to her neck. He made her feel gossamer and ethereal, unnerved and out of control, while understating the actuality of her height as he tilted her chin with the tip of his index. It wasn't demanding but the craving was irrefutable as he sought out a silent acquiescence with the softest graze of his mouth on hers.
Her answer wasn't so quiet as the utterance came out in a soft, breathy gasp.
"Don't ruin it," Olivia was already drunk off of him simply by his touch and his heat radiating against her, both of which were consuming her as his name came out in a moan. "Elliot."
Elliot's lips were already tracing the curve of her jaw all the way to her ear while his fingers gathered along the small of her back, tangling around the strip of ripped fabric. "Tell me to stop and I'll stop, Liv."
Olivia's eyes rolled back and the Earth tilted on its axis as she didn't give two shits if anyone walked in or not while her back involuntarily arched, pushing her forward, against his chest. "No, no, no, don't stop. Please, don't stop."
The protective line between them had dissolved with the return of a gaze that seemed to last forever. They'd tiptoed around the broken glass and still came up with shards as Elliot's mouth crushed Olivia's, pushing her lips apart as though he'd replayed it in his head a thousand times. Perhaps, he had and knew, deep down, in the depths of her mind that she'd done the same as her fingers gripped his bicep, drawing him closer. Her heartbeat thrummed against him, the frenetic rhythm building with that of his own. He loved her so much more than he could ever say in words as he directed her motions and dragged his fingers over the material of her shirt until her moan vibrated against his mouth.
Elliot savored the taste of a mint's remnant on the tip of Olivia's tongue as he felt the chill of the night air radiating through the windowpane as he pressed his palms against the glass. It suddenly didn't matter that only a singular door separated them from the outside world—for a moment, they existed wholly for each other. Even as Elliot leaned in a little further and bowed his head as if to pray, he simply craved more of her. Elliot tilted his chin and encouraged Olivia onto the tips of her toes while his arms memorized the curve of her spine down to the swell of her hips. There wasn't anything to pull them back, convince them of an alternate path, or deter them from simply being. There was nothing left to prevent either of them from feeling something real.
"El, we still, ah, have work to do," Olivia's eyes were dreamily in reset, lashes aimed down, lips swollen and bruised while reality crashed back down around them in the dim, her fingers gliding along the chiseled edge of his jaw. "Captain will send Fin or Munch out after us and we've already been gone too long."
Elliot groaned and dragged his lips down her cleavage as he pulled her close and buried his face against the soft, hot skin above her shirt, generously squeezing her backside until the grunt was audible. "I know…But I don't want to."
"We have to," Olivia bit down on her lip, the chill of the wall finally touching the exposed skin at her side while she traced lines around the remnants of bruises on his face. "As much as I'd like to keep going, we have to get back to our job."
"It's worse than a little taste," Elliot set his teeth against the material of her shirt before standing upright, applying a soft, completing kiss to her temple as his embrace slowly unwound. "A tiny tease of you."
The absence of his heat against her tugged at the strings of her ailing heart as she ran a hand through her hair and unfurled the shirt to swap out, a smirk residing on her lips. "You know, it's only a tease if it doesn't lead anywhere, El."