Thank you for all the love you've shown this story. I really appreciate it.
I am still shooting to have this all posted before Thursday's finale, so I think just one more chapter after this. It will likely be a bit longer than the previous ones and I will probably change the rating to M.
Don Cragen, for his part, takes one look at their clasped hands as they approach his table and shoots them his trademark Mona Lisa smile.
"It only took you, what, 23 years?" he asks them in greeting, shaking Elliot's hand as he claps him on the shoulder.
The relief Olivia feels is palpable as she wraps her arms around her former captain in a warm embrace.
"Careful, Captain. You might want to keep your distance. These two have been all over each other all night." Munch appears, a drink in his hand.
Olivia flushes, but doesn't miss a beat. "You jealous, John?"
"Nah. That romance ship sailed a long time ago and took my three ex-wives with it. More power to the both of you," he says, taking a seat next to Elliot. "Though I still think you can do better than this schmuck, Olivia."
Olivia rolls her eyes, settling down onto Elliot's other side as she turns to Eileen. "You look beautiful, Eileen."
The other woman smiles. "Thank you, Olivia. Your dress is stunning." Olivia doesn't know Eileen very well, but she's enjoyed her company in the past when she hosted dinner parties with Brian — which feels like a lifetime ago.
Olivia reaches for a dinner roll from one of the bread baskets, ignoring Elliot's look of amusement over being right about her appetite. "Have the two of you planned any trips for the summer?"
"We were thinking Paris in July," Don says, glancing over at Eileen with warmth in his eyes that makes Olivia smile.
"Paris is beautiful," Olivia replies wistfully.
"Have you been?" Eileen asks.
"I - "
"I'm going to grab a drink. You want a glass of wine, Liv?" Elliot interjects gently, draping a hand over her shoulder as he rises from the table.
"Uh, sure," she replies, flustered. She looks up to search his countenance for any sign of irritation or hurt, but his back is already turned to her on his way to the bar before she can get a good look. Hmm.
Elliot had been remarkably calm when he finally found out about her relationship with Ed Tucker, really proving once and for all how much he's changed — for the better — over the years.
She never really felt like he had a right to be upset after the way he left her, but she'd still expected a more visceral reaction from him when she told him. Instead he swallowed it all down with just the clench of his jaw, the tightness loosening after she told him that Tucker had ended his life after being diagnosed with brain cancer.
He'd surprised her even more when he wrapped her in a comforting hug and told her he was sorry that she'd had to endure yet another painful loss, even if she hadn't been with Tucker when he passed.
Still, she knows Elliot isn't exactly thrilled about that particular romance, so she's not sure if his absence from the table is intentional or just coincidental.
Olivia turns back to the conversation, biting her lip. "I went 5 years ago with my boyfriend at the time. Haven't made it a priority to go back, but it was incredible."
"I'm trying to convince Don to take a detour over to Italy, too," Eileen admits, nudging the former captain.
"Okay, is this what I have to look forward to when I retire? Because I might think of doing it sooner," Olivia jokes, slipping a piece of bread into her mouth.
"Speaking of retirement," Cragen starts, turning his attention toward their surly, grey-haired friend. "John, are you still with the DA's office?"
"Captain, what else am I gonna do? Sit at home and knit?"
Olivia chokes on a laugh. "No big travel plans in your future, John?"
"I don't trust air travel."
"Of course you don't," she replies, shaking her head.
"Anyway, where the hell is Fin?" Munch asks, craning his neck. "I'm starving."
"You should've come with us to get first dinner," Olivia admonishes.
John peers at her over his glasses. "To crash and be the third wheel? I think I'll pass."
"You're the fifth wheel at this table right now, aren't you?" she teases, cocking her head.
"Not after Cassidy joins us."
Olivia pales, her throat going dry. "As in Brian?"
"No, Shaun Cassidy."
Olivia glares at him. "John."
He laughs. "Relax, Liv. I'm kidding. You should've seen the look on your face, though."
She narrows her eyes at him. "Not funny."
"I beg to differ," Cragen chimes in, amusement glinting in his eyes.
"I did catch a glimpse of him and his little blonde date on my way out of the church, so don't say I didn't warn you."
"Great," she grumbles. Bringing up one ex while another one lingers nearby? Elliot will love that.
"What's great?" Elliot asks from behind her, depositing a generous glass of red wine in front of her. She's definitely going to need it.
Well, no use in hiding it. She'd rather he be prepared than caught off guard if they bump into him tonight.
"Sarcasm," Olivia replies lightly, forcing a small smile. "Bri - um, Cassidy," she corrects. "He's here." She lifts the wine glass to her lips and takes a long sip without taking her eyes off him to gauge his reaction.
"Oh yeah?" He seems only mildly interested as he sits down, smoothing down his tie before he takes a swig of his beer. The foam coats his lips and oh, it distracts her, her gaze dipping to his mouth. Suddenly all she can think about is devouring him.
Twenty-three years and she still has no idea what his mouth tastes like. Such a damn shame.
"You want to go say hi?" he asks.
"What?" Olivia says thickly. She cannot for the life of her remember what they were talking about and now all she can do is picture him naked and on top of her.
Or beneath her. She's not picky.
The corners of Elliot's lips twitch in amusement, the son of a bitch. "Cassidy. Do you want to go say hi?"
"Oh." Wait. That's what he asked her? "No, not really."
"You can, you know." He lays a soothing hand over her arm that rests on the table. "Or we can."
"Are you actually cool with this or are you just trying to be cool with this?"
To his credit, he laughs gently. "Liv, I'm the lucky son of a bitch who gets to be here with you tonight. Not him." The tips of his fingers drift lazily along her forearm and it sends goosebumps prickling across her skin. "And I know you cared about him. So if you want to - "
"I don't, El." She drapes her hand over his, ceasing his exploration. She needs to be able to focus on this conversation. "I'm not going to go out of my way to ignore him, but to be honest, I don't know how he'll take this - " she gestures between them, "and I just don't want the theatrics. Not on Fin's wedding day, and not tonight."
Olivia tilts her head, smiling at him. "Okay?"
The light in his blue eyes only grows brighter. "You're the boss, Liv," he says softly.
She leans into him, her mouth resting just centimeters away from the shell of his ear. "And don't you forget it," she rasps, watching in delight as he swallows hard.
Fin, Phoebe, and the rest of their small wedding party show up about 30 minutes later, thank God. Olivia's forgotten how to handle a hangry John Munch after all these years and she would prefer to forget about it all over again.
The salmon and asparagus is heavenly, rich on her tongue, as she listens to the easy cadence of the conversation that flows around her, content to just observe.
When Elliot had left 11 years ago — and all the years in between — she could have never predicted that they'd all be sitting here like this together again, laughing and joking while they shared a meal. Almost like it was one of those early years on the job before they'd all become weighed down and haunted by violence, pain, and loss.
That she's the only one remaining in the unit is bittersweet, but she's comforted by the fact that her job still brings her an incredible amount of purpose every day. But even more importantly, it's not the only thing that brings her purpose anymore.
Not when she has them, her friends.
Her son.
Elliot.
A combination that makes it a hell of a lot easier to walk through this life she's chosen for herself. Because now, even when she goes to bed cloaked in darkness, the light is waiting for her when she wakes up.
"You're kind of quiet there, Benson," Elliot murmurs to her in a break in the conversation.
Olivia smiles a little. "Just taking it in." She shrugs. "All of this...you know? I just never..." She trails off, pressing her lips together as she tries to swallow down the emotion.
"I know," he says softly, lifting a hand to cup her cheek, thumbing it gently. His gaze is deep, steady, all-knowing and it makes her heart stutter in her chest.
Oh, what she wouldn't give for it to just be the two of them right now.
Something sparks in his eyes as his hand falls from her face to wrap his fingers around hers. "Come on."
She frowns. "What are we doing?"
"Dancing."
She gets to her feet, even as she protests. "Elliot, we can't. Fin and Phoebe haven't even had their first dance yet."
"I know." He laces their fingers together and leads her away from the table, past the bridal party and through a set of side doors that open into a dark, poorly lit concrete stairwell.
"This evening certainly has taken an interesting turn," she jokes as she follows him up the steps. "You didn't bring me out here to murder me, did you, Detective Stabler? Because if you did, I should warn you that my squad will hunt your ass down."
He chuckles. "Captain Benson, your lack of faith in me is insulting." They go through another door into a different stairwell and now she's really confused.
"Elliot, seriously, where are we going?"
"Have you always been this impatient?"
"Yes," she huffs.
"Don't you trust me?" The question is light, but she hears the meaning in it.
"I've never trusted anyone more," she says softly. He doesn't say anything to that, but squeezes her hand gently in reply.
It's only another minute before he leads her through an exit outside, the slight chill in the air a welcomed relief from the flush in her cheeks that's been her steady companion all night.
She gasps. Oh.
He's brought her up to the roof.
"How did you know to come up here?" she asks as they walk toward the center of the building, toward the glittering city lights and spectacular view.
"An old buddy of mine got married here last year, not long after Kathy passed." He rubs his chin thoughtfully. "I was in a bad way that night, hadn't slept much the day before. I just felt suffocated around all those people."
Elliot stops in his tracks and stares out at the city, keeping a hold of her hand. "At first, I started pacing the stairwells. Just walking up and down them, trying to get out of my head." He looks over at her with a small, sheepish smile.
"Eventually, I stumbled out here. Just laid down right here and stared up at the sky." He looks up, taking a deep breath. "Just breathing while I listened to the sirens."
She curls a hand around his bicep. "I'm sorry you had to go through that, Elliot."
He sighs, turning into her as one of his hands cups her cheek. His face is inches away from hers now and she wonders how long she can go without breathing before she passes out. "I never would've made it if it hadn't been for you, Liv."
"Yes, you would've," she assures him quietly, resting her hand on top of his, holding it there.
"No." He shakes his head fiercely. "I wouldn't have. And I don't know that I ever thanked you enough for putting aside everything to be there for me when you had every reason to completely shut me out."
He leans down, resting his forehead against hers. "I didn't deserve it, but you gotta know that I've never taken for granted what that must've cost you on top of everything else."
"Elliot," she rasps, swallowing hard. Fuck, she's going to start crying.
"I've made so many goddamn mistakes and I wasn't there for you for a long time like I should've been," he presses on. "But I swear to you, Olivia, I swear to you I will be whatever you need or want me to be until God takes me off this Earth."
"This," she whispers, wrapping a hand around his other wrist to lift it between them, pressing it against her chest. "This is what I need, Elliot. And you," she starts, resting her hand at his heart, mirroring him. "You are what I want."
"Liv." Her name is a mangled whisper on his lips, a warning, a plea, a prayer — everything wrapped in one syllable.
Her heart thuds in her ears as his hand migrates away from her heart to sweep her jaw before his thumb smoothes against her lips.
"Jesus Christ." The broken curse spills from her lips without her permission and he chuckles, low and throaty as his dark heady gaze falls to her mouth.
She whimpers. "Elliot - "
And then his perfect, delicious mouth crashes onto hers.
Love to hear from you!
Liv