a/n: hi! welcome to my first ever published fanfiction! let's start with a few disclaimers cause I'm paranoid…first, I do not own the Law and Order franchise or its characters. that all belongs to Dick Wolf and Wolf Entertainment.

secondly, this is an EO story and I promise they will be endgame. that being said, it's a slow, slow burn. we all know Elliot and Olivia are stubborn and it's going to take them a while to turn their chemistry into something else. plus, as you will soon discover, there is a lot more to this story than just romance including some dark subject matter down the line.

takes place around season 7 of svu, with lots of inspiration from season 8. Elliot is separated from Kathy, but not yet divorced. i hope you enjoy!

In the criminal justice system, sexually-based offenses are considered especially heinous. In New York City, the dedicated detectives who investigate these vicious felonies are members of an elite squad known as the Special Victims Unit. These are their stories.

Chapter One | Present

"I can't believe the captain is sending both of you. How do you expect us to survive here without either of our best detectives?"

Olivia Benson, who was halfway out the door of the Special Victims Unit squadroom, spun in a circle and smirked at her colleague. "Damn, John. That might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it," Munch quipped, his tone rich with annoyance, per usual. "But really, why do both of you have to go all the way to California? Are you just that inseparable?"

"Because we worked the Hailey Rubbo case together and that's what we're going to present at the conference," Olivia said. "Get over it. It's three days. Less than three days, really."

"Don't worry, I'll find a way to videotape Liv's badass lecture and send it to all of you," Elliot promised.

"Now, that's what I like to hear."

Olivia rolled her eyes. The reality that she was lecturing at a law enforcement conference was bizarre in itself. Olivia was only a detective, second grade, not a lieutenant, doctor, or victim. But for some reason, Cragen had nominated her to attend the Major Crime Investigators Conference in San Francisco, California. There, Olivia would advocate for sexual assault survivors.

Her partner, Elliot Stabler was attending the event, too, because the officers had closed a high-profile kidnapping case last year and they were outlining their case study together. Technically, Olivia would be involved in two presentations, and if she was the type of person to get nervous about public speaking, Olivia had a feeling that she would be terrified.

A thirty minute seminar was no reason for fear, though. There were legitimate problems in the world, real reasons for anxiety, so Olivia was not worried about her lecture, or at least that's what she continued to tell herself. Besides, the speech had been written and revised a hundred times. The material was memorized. Olivia had managed to pen something authentic without revealing anything too personal about herself.

"What are you two still doing here?"

A sudden voice interrupted the detectives' ongoing chat; Captain Cragen had rounded the corner from his office. "You should have been at JFK a half hour ago. Get going; you're going to miss your flight."

"We're going, Dad, we're going," Elliot insisted. "Hey…don't miss us too much, okay?"

"Yeah, we'll try. Now, seriously, go…I don't want to have to reschedule everything."

Olivia led the way out of the sixteenth precinct, her bland, tattered suitcase bouncing along from behind. She and Elliot had hoped to confine their belongings to carry-on bags, but this was soon deemed impossible. Elliot had multiple suits that needed to make the trip and Olivia's laptop and shoes took up more room than initially planned.

"We've got plenty of time. Are you sure you don't want to stop and get something to eat before heading to the airport?" Elliot asked.

Olivia glanced at her watch. "No, I want to get to the terminal and know that we're not gonna have to deal with Cragen's wrath if we're late."

Perhaps Elliot knew better than to argue. He quickly flagged a passing taxi, and the detectives piled their luggage into the trunk before instructing the driver to transport them to JFK. Olivia shivered in the backseat. Winter in New York was always frigid, but this year seemed to be especially brutal, with sharp, gusty winds and the temperatures frequently dipping below freezing. She could only pray that San Francisco was an improvement. It would have made much more sense to host the Major Crime Investigators Conference in Los Angeles or San Diego…southern California.

"So…you all ready for your big speech tomorrow?" Elliot said as their cab weaved through the hectic, Manhattan traffic.

"According to you, I am. Thanks, by the way, for telling everyone about my badass lecture. It really takes the pressure off."

"Oh, come on. It's not like you're nervous," Elliot said and Olivia shrugged, a bit too innocently. "What? You're not nervous, are you?"

"No," Olivia lied. "I just…I don't know if I'm the most qualified person to do this. It's not like I'm a victim."

"Maybe not, but you know why Cragen wanted you to do this. It's so cops from the other departments, homicide and narcotics and stuff stop blaming the victims. And no one knows victims better than you do."

That was what multiple people had told Olivia over the years. She nodded, forcing her brain to accept the compliment. "Yeah…again, no pressure."

"Trust me, you've got nothing to worry about," Elliot said. "If you want, though, I can look over your notes on the plane. You can rehearse tonight at the hotel. I'll give you honest feedback."

"No, I…I have it set, what I'm going to say. It's fine, Elliot. I'm fine."

"Well, I know that. You're better than fine."

For a second time, Olivia rotated her irises. There really was no other appropriate response. Elliot was goofy and made lame jokes but he was trying. And although Olivia would never articulate the syllables, she was relieved to see her partner relatively happy. Ever since the Stabler marriage had fallen apart the previous year, Elliot had resided in what seemed like a perpetual bad mood.

Approximately forty-five minutes and two phone calls from Cragen later, the duo arrived at JFK Airport. Olivia and Elliot rushed inside, dispensed their luggage at the correct location, and made it through security just as boarding was announced for their flight.

"I guess it's a good thing we didn't stop for food, isn't it?" Olivia simpered.

"Yeah, yeah, but I'm still starving. I hope they serve something better than pretzels and peanuts on this damn plane."

The flight to San Francisco was not direct, of course, not from all the way across the country in New York. First, the aircraft would stop in St. Louis, Missouri. Olivia and Elliot would have less than forty minutes to make their connection.

But the positive side to everything was that they had to spend almost no time waiting. As members of the police force, Olivia and Elliot were two of the first passengers to board the plane; they received an entire row to themselves, near the front of the aircraft. Grateful for the extra space, Olivia stretched out her limbs and when the plane took off, settled into her cubby, comfortably.

She would have slept, if that kind of thing was conceivable, but Olivia always found dozing off on planes impossible. It had something to do with surviving the September eleventh terrorist attacks. Instead, she skimmed over her lecture again and read two chapters from the book she had brought from home. It was a psychological thriller that involved a futuristic society.

Before Olivia knew it, the jet's wheels had contacted the St. Louis ground. Thanks to their status as law enforcement, Olivia and Elliot escaped from the cabin almost immediately and located their next terminal swiftly. In fact, their transition from the previous vessel was so smooth that Olivia and Elliot were forced to sit around, idly, while their next plane was groomed for departure.

Amidst their waiting, Olivia absorbed the sights and sounds of Lambert International Airport. Most of the other migrants were families, utilizing the holiday weekend as an excuse to travel. To Olivia's left, a dark-haired girl of approximately five sat on her father's lap, tranquilly. Her younger brother was close by, striving to disturb the peace, despite their mother's warnings. The group's overall aura emitted pure, wholesome vibrations.

Olivia was watching the family, wistfully, when Elliot said it: "You know, Kathy served me with divorce papers."

"What?" The Stablers had been separated for over six months, but everyone had been under the impression that Elliot and Kathy were resolving their issues. Olivia had thought—and hoped, for her partner's sake—that things were getting better.

"Over a month ago now…before Christmas," Elliot continued, almost casually. "I didn't sign them, though."

"Are you going to sign them?"

"I…don't know. I hope not. We've talked since then. We've…made some progress."

"Okay, well that's good," Olivia said. "Does that mean that Kathy's going to stop the divorce proceedings?"

"I don't know," Elliot said. "But a few weeks ago, right after Christmas, when we dealt with the Atchison case…I went home. I didn't spend the night or anything but I went to the house and I…I practically begged Kathy for another chance. I told her I recognized what's important in life, that I wouldn't let the job get in the way of family anymore."

"What did she say?" Olivia asked.

"Nothing, really. She wouldn't let me in the house. She said that maybe we can take it slow…get a drink sometime…talk things out."

"That's good. That's really good, Elliot," Olivia said. "Have you thought about…you know, maybe doing couples' therapy or anything?"

Elliot scoffed; his distrust of shrinks was no secret. Seven years ago, when Olivia had first begun her tenure at SVU, the detectives had been forced to visit a psychiatrist. They were assured that anything mentioned during therapy would be confidential. But when Elliot had confessed to fantasizing about killing child molesters, he had ended up on probation. It was enough to sway anyone's faith in the system.

Still, Olivia pressed on. "You know, I know you have your reservations but counseling has helped a lot of people."

"Yeah, and you're one to talk," Elliot said. "Didn't I have to drag you to see Huang after your deadly force thing with Plummer?"

"That's a different kind of therapy and you know we don't talk about Plummer. Just mention it to Kathy. See how she feels."

An overhead announcement intercepted the conversation; boarding had commenced for the flight to San Francisco. Olivia and Elliot stood up, silently, and it was only after they were planted in another exclusive column, additional passengers filling the craft, that their discussion resumed.

"I'll think about it. I've got all weekend to think about it," Elliot said. "It's gonna be weird, you know…spending time with you and not worrying about chasing down perps…protecting civilians."

"What are we going to do with all our free time?" Olivia wondered.

"I don't know but I'm not gonna lie…I'm looking forward to having a break."

"From what? Work?"

Elliot shrugged. "Work…life…it's just nice to get away for a while."

"Yeah…"

Awkwardness had tainted the air. Elliot may not have mentioned the word, but it was obvious that he was excited about getting away from something, or rather, someone else, too. None of it made sense, though. Elliot wanted to work things out with Kathy. He had been devastated when she left him, possibly even willing to attend counseling.

The plane had cleared the runway; they were officially heading west towards San Francisco. Through the window, Olivia watched as the Missouri landscape shrunk, the streets and trees morphing into miniscule, geometrical shapes. Elliot was assembling an action movie on his video monitor; Olivia opened her novel and attempted to concentrate on the futuristic universe.

Her mind was preoccupied now, though. Olivia wanted to remain in the present.

-DUN DUN-

There was no doubt about it—the northern California climate was significantly more enjoyable than Manhattan, mid-January. From the moment the detectives roamed out of San Francisco International Airport, fetched luggage in hand, they were submerged by a blissful, ray of sunshine. The fervor pierced Olivia's skin, warmed her spirit; she shed the heavy trench coat, formerly donned.

A nearby taxi driver, who had just dropped off a businessman at the terminal, yelled in her direction. "Keep your clothes on, honey! It's barely fifty degrees outside!"

"Yeah, and we're from New York so fifty degrees feels great," Olivia replied, but she made it a point to keep her scarf wrapped tightly around her neck as she addressed the cabbie. "Hey, can you take us to the Westin?"

"That's why I'm here, to escort beautiful women like yourself!"

Typically, unwanted flirting made Olivia uncomfortable but as she climbed into the back of the taxi, she found herself suppressing laughter. It did not appear that this guy was really perverted. He had requested that Olivia keep her clothes on, after all.

Regardless, the ride from the terminal to the Westin was, overall, concise. Hotels surrounded major, international airports for a reason, and that reason was primarily, conventions. Less than ten minutes later, the flirty taxi driver pulled up in front of the lodge. There was a large, bold banner hanging above the Westin's entrance that read: Welcome to the Major Crime Investigators Conference.

"I guess we're in the right place," Olivia said. While Elliot jumped out of the cab to grab their suitcases, Olivia handed their chauffeur a few bills as a tip. He sped off quickly.

Inside, the hotel was buzzing with commotion. Men and women belonging to various law enforcement branches were scattered around the grand lobby—making phone calls, eating an early supper, socializing. Individuals other than the police were present, too; attendees included doctors, attorneys, and crime-fighting organizations.

A stocky, bearded man approached Elliot almost instantly, grinning like a kid that had overindulged in sugar. "Elliot Stabler!"

"Jake Wurtzel," Elliot said and the apparent friends exchanged a half-hearted embrace. "How are you, man?"

"I'm good, I'm good," Wurtzel said. "I saw you on the schedule this morning when I got in and I couldn't believe it. It's been what, ten years?"

"At least, yeah. What are you up to these days?"

"Oh, not too much. I've been in Chicago these past few years, in homicide. What about you?"

"I'm in the same place I was last time we talked, just a rank higher. Detective, first grade," Elliot said and Wurtzel let out a low whistle.

"Damn, you're still at SVU? That's impressive, man. I don't know how you do it."

"Yeah, thanks," Elliot said. "Look, we just got in half an hour ago so I think we need to get checked in and everything but maybe we could meet up for drinks later? Catch up?"

"Absolutely," Wurtzel agreed. "Did Kathy and the kids come along for vacation?"

The pause was so brief that Olivia barely recognized it. Wurtzel certainly could not tell that anything was wrong. But Elliot visibly hesitated before nudging Olivia forward, gently.

"No, um…they're at home but I'm sorry, I should have introduced you sooner. This is my partner, Detective Olivia Benson. Liv, Jake was at SVU for a couple years, back before you came along."

"It's nice to meet you," Olivia said, politely.

"Likewise, likewise," Wurtzel said. He shook Olivia's hand, heartily. "You're a very lucky young woman, Olivia, getting this one as a partner."

"Aw, stop it, Jake. I'm the lucky one," Elliot insisted. "Liv's saved my ass more times than I can count."

Wurtzel cracked up laughing. It appeared that he had already consumed a drink or two at the Westin's gratuitous bar. "Well, that's even better! Alright, well, go get yourself situated, Stabler. We'll be waiting for you at the watering hole. Bring the partner, too."

"Yeah, see you around, Jakey."

As soon as Wurtzel had wandered off, Elliot revolved towards Olivia. "Listen, I'm sorry. He really is a good guy but when he's had a few drinks…"

"It's okay," Olivia said. "Really, you don't need to apologize."

"Okay, well…we probably should get checked in and everything, maybe get some dinner. You don't have to join us at happy hour if you don't want, but I'm probably gonna catch up with Wurtzel some more, later."

"What's the game plan if he asks about Kathy and the kids again?" Olivia said.

"I…I don't know. I haven't thought that far yet," Elliot sighed. "I know I should tell him the truth, but I mean…Kathy and I are gonna talk. There's a chance we might work everything out and if we do, then I don't want rumors going around that we're divorced."

Once the detectives had obtained their room keys, conference schedules, and presenter passes, they hopped onto an elevator. They had both been assigned spaces on the eighth floor, with Olivia in room 816 and Elliot in 819.

Olivia's room, albeit small, was a serene retreat compared with the Westin's frenzied lobby. Upon arrival, she took a few minutes to settle in. Olivia arranged all her hygiene products into an organized row. She sorted through her luggage, which had become slightly rumpled from the journey, and changed into less formal attire—loose denim and an emerald-colored blouse.

Honestly, Olivia wanted nothing more than to relax in private for the rest of the night. It may have only been five-thirty in the evening, but Olivia's body was under the impression that it was eight-thirty. Ordering room service, soaking in a hot, steamy bath, and rehearsing her lecture repeatedly sounded ideal.

Just as Olivia had considered leaping onto her heavenly, queen-sized mattress, though, a thumping noise came from her door's region.

"Yeah?"

"It's me," said a familiar voice, so Olivia opened the door.

Elliot had changed clothes, too. His usual button-down and slacks had been traded in for jeans and…well, another button-down but this one was short-sleeved and mellow. Elliot smiled at the sight of his partner. "Hey. You wanna go grab some dinner? There's a restaurant in the hotel or some steak and seafood place down the street people have been talking about."

"Either's fine with me," Olivia said. A sudden pang in her stomach reminded the detective that the extent of her nutrition today was coffee and a bag of pretzels.

"Well, pick something," Elliot urged. "The place downstairs is cheaper but I mean…this is also probably the closest either of us are coming to vacation for a while. We could skip the happy hour thing…tour San Francisco."

The suggestion was tempting. If Olivia had not already been exhausted, and nervous about her upcoming presentation, she likely would have accepted the offer. But thankfully, there were excuses galore. Visiting the Golden Gate Bridge and Alcatraz Island with Elliot would be…weird. Inappropriate. He was attempting to salvage his marriage. And Olivia was unsure whether she had ever gone on a normal outing with her partner, not unless one counted dinner dates following a long day at work.

"Thanks, but I think we'd better stay around here," Olivia said. "I'm really tired, you know, from the time change and I still need to rehearse some more for tomorrow."

"Oh, yeah. Well, do you wanna do room service or something? You can practice your speech on me."

"No, I already told you we aren't doing that. You'll get to hear it tomorrow when everyone else does. Come on, let's go get food downstairs. I'm starving."

It turned out, though, that the Westin's steakhouse was so packed with conference attendees that the dining staff estimated an hour long delay. Neither Olivia nor Elliot were willing to wait that long, so they decided to splurge and split the bill for seafood.

Lobster House was the most convenient target and its prices were not outrageous. The restaurant was poised just down the street from the Westin and conveyed an upbeat, festive atmosphere. Under a ceiling adorned with seashells and fairy lights, Elliot ordered a surf and turf special which included a huge, luscious filet mignon and of course, freshly-caught lobster tail. Olivia, meanwhile, requested crab cakes and extra vegetables. The detectives chatted about upcoming conference highlights while their food was processed, and then once the entrees arrived, opened their mouths only to fill their stomachs.

When both plates had been wiped clean, Elliot leaned back against his chair and sighed. "Damn…I sure do wish it was always like this."

"Like what?"

"Like this," Elliot said, gesturing towards their surroundings. There were coastal-inspired paintings depicted on the colorful walls and a sprouting fountain in the dining room's center. "I wish I was always paid to eat steak and lobster."

"You're not being paid to eat steak and lobster. Technically, you're paying to eat steak and lobster."

"I know, but you get the idea. Cragen sent us here. I guess the right way to phrase it would be…I wish I was always paid to travel the country."

"So get a new job," Olivia said. "There are plenty out there where you'd be on the road three hundred days out of the year. You could drive a semi."

The idea was ridiculous even in Olivia's head. Elliot's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Nah…besides, if we did this on a daily basis, we wouldn't appreciate it anymore."

"And it would get boring fast," Olivia added. "We'd miss the high of…you know, chasing pedophiles…having guns pointed at our heads."

"Definitely, that's the best part of the job," Elliot said and they both laughed. "You gotta admit this is nice, though, even though I'd rather have a real vacation. It's been forever."

"Yeah, I don't remember you ever going anywhere with your family, not since I've been here," Olivia said.

"It's just hard, lining up everyone's schedules. The last big trip we took…that had to be the year before you started at SVU. Kathy, the kids, and I all went to Disneyworld for a week."

Olivia raised an eyebrow. Forget the mental image of Elliot driving a semi-truck…picturing him at Disneyworld was downright comical. "Really? Did you wear the mouse ears and everything?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure the twins made me and I didn't really care. It was good, clean fun, you know? What about you, did you ever go anywhere?"

"You think my mom took me on vacations growing up?" Olivia said and laughed again, although her pitch had darkened significantly.

Elliot frowned, perhaps realizing his mistake. "I…I guess not. What about friends? You ever go anywhere in college or anything?"

"No, I was working to pay tuition all through college; I never had money to travel," Olivia said. "I did go on a trip with my mom once, though, as an adult. I went here, actually…to San Francisco."

"Wait, really?" Elliot sat up straight, his interest stimulated. "When was this?"

"I was a year or two out of the academy. My captain told me I had to take some time off and my mom was going through one of her stints where she tried to…you know, be normal and sober so we split the cost and flew to California. We spent some time here and then drove to Yosemite National Park."

Elliot was grinning, his blue eyes exceptionally radiant in the glowing candlelight. "That's awesome. Really, I…I didn't know you had good times like that with your mom. I'm glad to hear it."

Olivia did not respond. She had not intended on divulging everything. Not because she didn't trust Elliot—she did, but Olivia was on vacation. She wanted to be happy, to live in the present, and make new memories in northern California.

There was only one problem. Elliot knew his partner well, and he promptly recognized the expression of doubt on Olivia's face. "Liv? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," Olivia said. "My mom and I did have some good times on that trip. The main thing that sticks out in my head, though, what I remember most…isn't the good times and yeah, I know that's pathetic."

"What happened?" Elliot pressed.

Olivia chewed on her lower lip, buying some time. The memory shouldn't affect her anymore, not to this extent. She had lived through plenty of trauma and this event, while unfortunate, was irrelevant compared to the years of abuse. She took a deep breath.

"Um…my mom had been sober the whole trip so far. She was doing really well and we were sharing some nice talks…bonding in a way we never had before. Then, one day, we hiked up this mountain called the Half Dome in Yosemite. I don't remember how far we got, if we ever reached the summit but…it turns out that my mom had packed a bunch of those little, airplane shots of vodka in her backpack. She kept sneaking off the trail, saying she had to pee, and doing shots of vodka on the fucking mountain."

"Damn," Elliot whispered. "Did she…I mean, was she okay? That sounds kind of dangerous."

"Yeah, it was," Olivia confirmed. "At some point, my mom became so drunk and depressed, she tried to commit suicide by jumping off a cliff. I had to physically drag from the edge…over and over. She was sobbing hysterically. And the worst part was that there were other hikers on the trail. These people, these complete strangers were all staring as I pulled my intoxicated mother down the mountain while she screamed like a banshee."

Olivia inhaled, gradually.

"I eventually got her back to the trailhead. She had done…a lot of shots so of course, she puked all over our rental car. But I drove us back to our hotel, I tucked her into bed, and the next day, when she'd sobered up, my mom told me why she'd done it. She said that it was just too much…spending an extended period of time with the physical reminder of her rape. So we flew home that afternoon."

Elliot was staring at his partner, evidently speechless. It was a deep narrative, and there was no saying otherwise, but in a way, the ongoing gaze was making Olivia more uncomfortable. She hated pity, or anything resembling it so intentionally averted her vision.

When that did not snap Elliot out of his state, Olivia sighed and stood up. "Okay, so…are we about ready to go? Wurtzel's probably waiting for you at the bar."

"Hold on, Liv," Elliot demanded and shook his head. "No, um…actually, I don't feel like drinking tonight."

"No. No, we're not gonna do that thing where I tell you a sad story and you try to fix things by being my big brother. You asked if I'd ever been on vacation and I told you. Now, come on. I've gotta get ready for my lecture tomorrow."

The officers paid their seafood bill silently, and then trekked back towards the Westin. The temperature had dropped significantly; Olivia laced her arms across her thorax for extra warmth. She should have known better than to venture outside without so much as a jacket.

Halfway down the street, when Olivia had begun quaking with chills, Elliot maneuvered an arm around his partner's shoulders, generating body heat.

Olivia stopped short. "What are you doing?"

"You're shaking, Liv," Elliot said but he evacuated his limb. Olivia had not given audible consent to touch.

"I'm fine. We're almost there anyway."

They hurried along the boardwalk, dodging a wild man on a bicycle and various tourists. Their hotel was within sight now, the lobby's brilliance beckoning amid the chilly conditions.

The detectives finally dashed inside, minutes later and the Westin's central heating system thawed their figures. Olivia and Elliot both exhaled and the latter spoke. "Damn…we might wanna check the weather forecast next time."

"Yeah, or the host could have just planned this better," Olivia grimaced. "I mean, really, it's January. Why couldn't the conference be in southern California? Or Hawaii?"

"Because the host is a dumbass," Elliot said and paused. "But you know…since we're already here, I was thinking…we're done with our presentations on Sunday afternoon and the conference ends early on Monday. If you want, I could call Cragen, see if we can push our flight back."

"Why? Munch would probably have an aneurysm if we were gone any longer," Olivia said.

"Munch can get over himself," Elliot said. "And I don't know…I was just thinking, maybe we could rent a car, drive into Yosemite. We could squeeze a little vacation into this trip after all, go hiking. I promise I won't try to jump off any cliffs."

The proposal was, in all likelihood, a joke. Even if Elliot was serious, the plan was unreasonable. They had responsibilities as officers and no hiking gear packed. Nevertheless, Elliot's statement had touched Olivia on an unexpected level, and she found herself smiling…not smirking, like normal, but genuinely beaming.

"Thanks, El."

"So…is that a yes?"

"No. No, that's a…now probably isn't the time," Olivia said and Elliot noticeably deflated. "Look, I appreciate the offer. But we have work and…and open cases and I'm no expert in relationships but turning a business trip into a Yosemite vacation with me? Probably not the best start to winning Kathy back."

Reality had dawned on Elliot, it seemed. He nodded, sheepishly, as if the entire suggestion had been reckless. "Yeah…yeah, you're right."

"I know I'm right," Olivia said.

"Someday, though," Elliot promised. "Someday, we're gonna get you back to Yosemite."

Olivia had no opportunity to respond. An obnoxious, drunken man was staggering across the foyer, towards Elliot. "Hey, Stabler!"

If Olivia's estimation was correct, Jake Wurtzel had consumed at least six more alcoholic beverages since their earlier interaction. Any inclination that Olivia had to join the party disappeared. She looked at Elliot. "Look, um…I think I'm gonna head upstairs for the night."

"Yeah, I don't blame you. I'm just gonna make sure that he quits before he's unconscious."

"You're fine. Go have a drink with him; one more probably wouldn't make that much of a difference," Olivia said. "I've gotta go shower, anyway…run through my speech a couple times."

"Okay. Goodnight," Elliot said. "Call if you need any expert advice."

"Yeah, I'll be sure to call Cragen if I do," Olivia agreed and then scampered out of sight before Elliot could react.

As she trudged towards the elevators and then down the eighth floor hallway, every step seemed to multiply Olivia's exhaustion. Jet lag was a bitch. She had really not slept much the night before, either, thanks to her tendency to procrastinate packing.

Bedtime was still hours away, though. First, Olivia had to ready herself, both physically and mentally, for what would doubtlessly be an elongated day tomorrow. A shower was highest on the list of necessities. While Olivia was soaking under the scorching water, she closed her eyes and attempted to recite the lesson she had agonized over for weeks.

Stop being a little bitch. There's no reason to be nervous, Olivia told herself repeatedly. The worst thing that could happen was that she was not invited to major conferences like this one again. That was nothing compared to the risks of Olivia's daily life. But as she combed out her pin-straight, chin-length bob of hair, the logic of her anxiety became more obvious.

Olivia was not nervous for any personal reasons. She was not a shy person, not when it came to public speaking or getting in the face of a serial killer. The rationalism for Olivia's uncertainty was her ever-present feeling of responsibility. She was giving a speech about advocating for victims, and Olivia had to be sure that she did those victims justice.

After changing into her normal pajamas, a tank top and lounging pants, Olivia retrieved her lecture notes and read until the words all blended together. The statistics were solid. The case studies that Olivia planned on referring to were comprehensible yet unidentifiable. There was a sufficient balance of humor and solemnity, or at least a couple jokes to keep the audience from falling asleep. Yes, according to the standards that Olivia had set for herself, everything was in order.

A modest, professional outfit was already ironed and reserved for tomorrow; Olivia had some basic make-up and jewelry set aside to make her morning routine as simple as possible. Visiting the hotel gym would be pointless, at least on this first full day, so Olivia was allowing herself to sleep in until seven o'clock. The alarm clock was set and primed.

When Olivia finally collapsed onto her glorious bed at ten-thirty, though, questions continued to rampage her mind. What if she offended someone high-up and important in law enforcement? What if her jokes were inappropriate? What if Olivia's speech was viewed as more of a motivational, Ted Talk rather than an actual, educational seminar? Or worst of all, what if there were victims in the audience that were unimpressed by Olivia's attempt to speak for them?

The string of relentless worries never ceased but eventually, the combination of jet lag and melatonin must have propelled Olivia into oblivion because the next thing she knew, seven o'clock had arrived. An especially irritating alarm clock was blaring noise into her ear; Olivia quickly slammed a fist on the device.

Snoozing was not an option today. In just three hours, Olivia would be on stage in the Westin's grand ballroom, as one of the first presenters of the Major Crime Investigators Conference. The time for second-guessing herself had passed.

Olivia had brushed her teeth and changed into her arranged ensemble—black slacks, a pale, blue blouse, and matching blazer—when there was a sudden knock from the hallway. It was so tentative that Olivia was initially unsure whether her door was the intended destination, but she opened up anyway, and found Elliot Stabler dressed in a handsome, grey suit, a cup of Starbucks coffee in each hand.

"Good morning, sunshine."

"Hey," Olivia said. "I hope you'd know better than to come by this early unless one of those coffees was for me."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Elliot assured her. He passed one of the cups to Olivia who sipped at the hot, caffeinated liquid. "How'd you sleep?"

Olivia shrugged; she wandered back towards the bathroom but left the door open so Elliot could follow her inside. "Not bad, once the melatonin kicked in. How was it with Wurtzel last night?"

"Well, I'm sure you know what it's like taking care of someone who can't drink," Elliot said.

In a split second, Olivia flashed back to the conversation she had shared with her partner last night at Lobster House. She didn't know where any of that had come from…sure, Olivia had told Elliot painful stories about her mother before, but those instances were usually due to triggering SVU cases. The tale of vodka and mountains had been birthed on vacation and ended with an awkward invitation from Elliot to hike in Yosemite National Park.

"Yeah, um…can we maybe just forget about all that?" Olivia begged. "I just…I'm not saying I regret telling you what happened but I need to focus on my lecture and…you know, it's in the past."

That was one of the best things about Elliot. He never pushed Olivia. Right now, for example, he simply smiled in response to her request. "Can we forget about the uh…marriage discussion we had in St. Louis yesterday, too?"

"Already forgotten. I don't even know what you're talking about," Olivia said. She had been in the midst of applying make-up when Elliot called so leaned over the bathroom sink, her face close to the mounted mirror and resumed stenciling on eyeliner.

The elder of the two detectives was observing. "You don't need make-up, you know."

"Yeah, well I think a majority of society would disagree. When women speak in public, especially in front of a room full of men, we're supposed to look nice."

"Since when do you abide by society's standards?"

"I don't know, since I want people to take what I'm saying seriously today," Olivia said but she tossed the eyeliner pencil into her nearby cosmetics bag. She had completed the bare minimum in terms of beauty enhancement and that good enough for Olivia.

She attached a pair of classic, pearl studs to her earlobes, and then slipped on her two everyday pieces of jewelry—the amethyst ring that had once belonged to Serena Benson and a small, silver necklace that read Fearlessness. The moment that the latter was around her neck, it was like Olivia's nerves vanished into thin air. There was no reason for anguish or distress. The survivors that Olivia had aided in the past eight years were with her; therefore, she could not fail.

"You about ready?" Elliot asked just as Olivia slid on a pair of spikes.

"I'm ready now. Come on, I need to go get checked in at the lecture hall and then there's a hate crime case study I'd like to see at nine o'clock."

a/n: I hope you enjoyed! I know it was mostly fluff and set up, but the plot should be introduced more in chapter two. thank you again for reading, please don't forget to review and tell me what you thought! xoxo