Sorry for all the angst with this story but I'm really trying to captivate what, I think, would be going through Liv's head if the show would ever allow EO to heal together. Which at this point, I'm really not confident in. I may actually pass out if we ever get an EO kiss on screen, tbh. But hey, at least we have our fanfic.
Happy reading and remember to review!
This isn't the first time our units have worked together and it's probably not the last. I guess sex crimes and organized crimes go hand in hand when it comes to sex trafficking and I will do anything to protect victims. No matter what my Chief tells me.
Which is why I'm currently standing in Sergeant Bell's unit listening to her and Elliot respectfully hash it out on who is going to go undercover for the current operation they're working on. Not a long term undercover, thank god for that, but an undercover for the night, a woman undercover for the night.
"It needs to be someone who is going to stark their interest," Elliot exclaims.
"And you don't think Jet will stark their interest?" Bell asks.
I'm holding the file of pictures that Jet was able to come across during one of her computer hacks and I glance back down at the photos of the women involved in this sex trafficking case. These women are different than what we usually see. We usually see profiles of women who, like Jet, are young and thin but these women are not young and not really thin. And I hate to admit it, but they look more like my profile. Yes, I'm a little older but my body type? They definitely have a thing for more curvy women.
"What do you think, Liv?" I hear Bell ask me.
"I think Elliot is right. These women don't fit our usual profile of those being trafficked. If we want someone that is going to fit in, we need someone more…" God, I don't even know what to call myself anymore? Curvy? Heavier?...
"Voluptuous," Elliot says and fuck, that's a really good word. His eyes are on mine and I swear they fucking darken. Did he just call me voluptuous in front of his whole team? Because if he did he needs to stop, right now. It's one thing to flirt with me outside of work. But during? Not okay, at all.
"Yeah, voluptuous."
"Well, you and I are the only two that can be considered voluptuous, Liv," Bell states and shit, I am not going undercover for a sex trafficking ring. I'm not. That would involve me, most likely, having to wear a tight ass dress, and I don't wear tight dresses anymore. I just don't.
"Okay, so you go. We'll send Stabler in as a potential buyer so you have backup on the inside, as well as the outside." Boom. Problem solved. I'm already closing the file and pulling my phone out to inform my crew of the plan until Bell's voice is pulling my eyes back up to her.
"You'd probably stark more interest, Captain."
Oh, great. We just went from Liv to Captain and fuck. She's right, I know she's right but I don't want to go. I glance at Elliot who looks just as nervous as I'm feeling right now and bastard can barely even make eye contact with me. These assholes. They knew I was going to be the only one who could make progress in there and Jesus, I did not fucking agree to this. "I am not going."
Elliot is still silent in the corner and good. He better not say anything. I haven't slept in his arms since that one night because for some fucking reason, although I had the best night sleep I had in ages, I can't get out of my own head when it comes to moving things further with this man. And I'm sure he is trying to make sure he doesn't remove his chance of it ever happening again.
"Well, do you know any other voluptuous cops that will go?" Bell asks and shit, everyone needs to stop calling me voluptuous, dammit.
But, no I fucking don't. All the other cops I know are either men or women who are of a smaller frame. This is bullshit. Because if I want to catch these guys and save these women, I'm going to have to go. Fine. But I'm not wearing a dress. I don't know when I became so opposed to dresses that show my figure off but I'm opposed to them. My hips are just too big for that now. "Fine, I'll go. Elliot, you'll still come in with me."
"Yes, Captain," he says from his corner.
This fucking guy. He wouldn't have it any other way. Me going in and him having my back. "Okay, I'm gonna need to pick up something to change into and I have to update Fin. So, I'll be back with a crew in…" I glance at the clock on Elliot's desk, "Two hours?"
"Sounds good," Bell answers.
I give them both a small smile and almost roll my eyes at the smile threatening to break across Elliot's face. This bastard, he cannot wait to see me in action again.
EO
I'm standing in the bathroom at the Organized Crime unit looking at myself in this dress that I have never worn before. I bought it a few months ago on a whim because it was on sale and instantly regretted it when I got home to try it on. It shows too much. Not too much of my cleavage but a little too much of my arms, it barely covers the few scars present on my shoulders, and a little too much of my legs, if I were to move a certain way it would show that stupid ass scar on my thigh. But it's tight but not too tight and my curves actually look quite nice in it. The burgundy color compliments my skin tone and God, I really fucking hate Lewis. I can't even feel comfortable in clothes like this anymore because I'm terrified someone is going to see them. And I don't need anyone asking questions about my skin.
I go to reach back to pull up the zipper because really, I don't have any other choice right now, it's not like I can go in my blazer and slacks and I didn't bring another dress, when I hear a knock at the door. "Yeah?"
"It's me," I hear Elliot say and I'm actually thankful. Because I could use someone else's opinion right now. And yeah, my dress is open in the back but it's not like the man hasn't seen my bare back before.
"You can come in." He opens the door slowly and I find it endearing when his eyes instantly hit the floor when he sees that my dress isn't closed. I can see that he's not sure if he's crossing a line which makes me laugh lightly because in case he's forgotten, I told him he could come in. "Close the door, El." When he closes it behind him, I say, "Zip me up, please."
We're still tiptoeing around this thing between us and I'm not sure how much longer I want us to tiptoe. But every time I think of moving it forward, I'm reminded of what my skin looks like underneath all these clothes and I fucking hate the fact that I can't even get bare in front of this man without having to relive my fucking trauma in some way. Elliot is respectful though and every time I seem to pull back, he just pulls back with me. The next step is mine to make and he seems to kind of just be waiting for me to make it. Honestly, it seems like he will wait forever for me to make it.
His eyes finally leave the floor to drag up the expanse of my back until he meets my eyes before he's making his way to me. I take a shaky breath when his fingers land on the zipper and god, even this is intimate with this man. He raises it slowly, a little too slowly, his fingers purposely skimming across the bare skin of my back and when he hits that one spot against my spine I arch slightly and smile. I see him smile too and Jesus, this man is going to have the time of his life discovering all my secrets if I ever let him discover them. Fuck.
When it's finally up all the way he steps back slightly to allow me to turn towards him and I see the words he's about to speak before he even says them. "You're beautiful, Liv."
Jesus Christ. It's the first time he's ever straight up called me beautiful and it almost about knocks me over. His eyes drag along the expanse of my body and he needs to stop looking at me like this. Like he wants to consume me alive. Especially when we're at work. I drag my hands over my hips, pull the length of the dress down a little more because that scar, that fucking scar, and look at him, "Thank you." I once more glance down at myself, "It looks okay? Like, my hips don't look too big?"
His tongue darts out to drag across his lips, his eyes darken even more and goddammit, I'm sorry I even fucking asked. "You look incredible. Absolutely incredible."
"Okay. I just need my shoes on and I'm ready."
He looks around the ground and when I raise my eyebrows at him in question, he asks, "What shoes are you wearing?"
Although, I'm not sure why he's asking, I turn to grab my heels out of my bag behind me and hold them up, "These."
"You sure your ankle will be okay in those?"
Oh. Well I guess I'm getting caring Elliot Stabler all the time now. I shrug because we both know the true answer to that statement but it's not like I can go in sneakers. "It'll be fine. And even if it's not, I think I know someone who will ice it for me later."
He grins at that because he will, he knows he will. And if he has it his way, he'll be rubbing my back again. Which really doesn't sound like a bad idea either.
EO
I hate all these men looking at me. Hate it. Makes me feel gross and I keep subconsciously pulling my dress down in fear that a pair of eyes are going to catch my secret. Elliot never strays far from me. He's always within reach, his blue eyes constantly set on me. He doesn't raise suspicion because he looks as if he's interested in me and only me and a lot of other men are looking at women here like that also.
I see him eye me suspiciously when I nervously pull my dress down once more and Jesus, I must look like fucking lunatic constantly reaching down. I have to quit watching him, watching me and scan my eyes of the room once more. Our goal is to wait until we find the head of this ring and so far, no one big has emerged.
I almost find it disgusting to be around people who are buying women like property and the worst part? A lot of these women don't even know they're being bought. A lot were brought here by those who they thought they could trust and are now being sold secretly though an app on people's phones. God, I can't wait to see the head of this operation. I may shoot him in the balls. Seriously.
I take a breath when I don't see anyone new and turn my heads back towards Elliot. He's still looking at me and when his blues meet my browns he throws me that 'you good' look he used to throw me when we were partners. I give him a small smile to tell him that I am and once more dart my eyes along the room.
There's one guy sitting at the bar, a young man, younger than what we thinking, but a man who is getting a lot of foot traffic his way. It seems like a lot of people know who he is. Those who are not coming up to him, giving him a small wave as they walk by. So either he's a regular buyer, which means he probably has some idea on who runs this thing, or he's someone high up on the chain, if not the highest. And I'm going to go find out.
I glance quickly at Elliot, make sure he's still watching me and when I once more find the safety of his eyes staring right at me, I start to move. I'm beyond confident that he's following me, so I don't even look back to double check.
The man, whoever he is, catches me walking towards him before I introduce myself and I take a deep breath before taking the seat beside him at the bar. I go to order myself a drink but am cut off, "She'll take a Screwdriver."
Fuck. I avoid vodka at all costs now and of course, that's the one drink he's going to fucking order for me. It's okay. I'll be okay. Just don't smell it, don't drink it and remember that Elliot is right behind me. I can do this. I give him the best smile I can muster and turn my body slightly towards his, "Thanks," I say as the bartender sets the offending drink before me.
"Of course. Best screwdriver you'll have, I can guarantee it." He's watching me and shit, I'm going to have to take a sip. I can't very well turn my body to find peace in Elliot's eyes right now, so I hold my breath, lift the glass to my lips and take the smallest sip I can muster. I can feel my heartbeat quicken at the taste and I have to stop myself from gagging.
I have to look at Elliot, have to. So I pull the whole, "Nice party," as my eyes skim the length of the crowd. It only takes me a minute to find his blues and I can visibly feel my heartbeat become less erratic.
"Yeah, is every year. We really go all out for our guests."
We. Well that was easier than I thought it was going to be. "Oh, so this is your place?"
"Technically? My father's but everyone knows I call the shots around here." He looks down at my drink on the counter, looks back at me, "You should drink more. Doesn't get better than free drinks."
Yeah, so it makes it easier for everyone to derail us at the end of the night. I'll pass, thank you. I take hold of the drink but do not take another sip because really, I don't think a can do that again without spiraling into a full blown panic attack. "Is your father here too?"
"Nah, he doesn't like the party lifestyle."
"Mmm. Well I think it's great. Charity events are absolutely amazing, especially in today's world. Nice to see that people still care for those underprivileged."
He chuckles at that. A sadistic type of chuckle and I don't like it, at all. Well, I think we have enough to crash the party but I'm still not confident that his father has nothing to do with the operation, although he has already stated that he calls the shots. "Do you want to dance?" He asks me.
No, no I really fucking don't. But it will get me away from this fucking drink in my hand. "Of course. But I have two left feet, just letting you know."
I let him lead me out to the dance floor, let him pull me in close and god, I can smell the vodka on his breath. Just breathe, Olivia. Breathe.
"So, what's your name gorgeous?"
"Olivia. What's yours?"
"Well, that my darling, is a secret."
"Hm, I don't like secrets." I really fucking don't.
He chuckles at that, "Don't worry, you'll know it soon." His hands move sensually along my hips and I have to stop myself from flinching. "You're going to do good, I already know."
"Do good with what?" Because I'm not supposed to know why I'm here. And he's already talking about how much money I'm going to make him. Fucking disgusting.
"You'll know that soon also."
I follow his lead, obviously. Because a man like this would never let a woman lead and at one turn, I catch Elliot's eyes again. They're dark but not in the aroused way I have come to sort of know. More in the angry way I know so well. His mouth is tight and he's gripping hold of the drink in his hand like he wants to suffocate it. Jesus, the man still doesn't like people touching me. "So you said you call the shots. Does that mean your father…"
"My father is of no importance at all, Olivia. So stop." He pulls me even closer, makes me feel the hardness of himself in his pants and goddammit. Breathe. "Bringing." A thrust of his hips to ensure that I can feel him. "Him." His hand ventures from my lower back to even lower and I swear I am seconds away from kneeing this man in his dick. "Up." And finally, a squeeze of my ass.
Alright! That's it. I am literally a second away from saying 'NOW,' my word for our crews to raid the place, my word for Elliot to come and pull me away from the pervert when I hear his voice. Loud and panicked, "OLIVIA!"
My eyes look up just in time to see two men standing at the doorway with guns in their hands before the first shot is fired. FUCK! I push back against this guy's chest hard, fling myself backwards out of his arms and I see his arms trying to come out and grab me. Everyone is running, screaming, shots are being fired and at this point I don't even know how many people have pulled guns out. I'm trying to turn my body to find Elliot in the chaos but when a bullet flings right by me and clips a woman in the shoulder, I decide to just drop.
I still have no idea where Elliot is, my heartbeat is beating quickly, both crews are yelling in my earpiece and all I can think about is Elliot. I'm crawling on my hands and knees and bullets are still flying. At this point I know both of our units are in the building because I hear Fin and Bell yell, "To your right!" in my ear and where the fuck is Elliot!
My eyes are still scanning the crowd, scanning the ground for those icy blues and Fin is asking me a question in my ear, "Liv! Are you hit? Where are you?!"
"I'm fine! Looking for Stabler!" And as soon as the words leave my mouth, my body is being covered by another. I almost scream because I wouldn't put it past that man I was dancing with to try to use me as a shield.
"It's me, Liv," I hear his voice say and thank god. Thank fucking god that we've both always been lucky in these situations. Yeah, he's been shot, more than once, but I've never lost him and I sure in hell am not ready to lose him now.
I turn my body towards him because I need to see his face and those blue eyes. No one will ever know how grateful I am to see them right now. Shots are still ringing in our ears and I cannot stop myself from maneuvering my body under him enough to reach out to stroke his cheek, to feel the warmness of him, to ensure that he's really here. He closes his eyes against my touch, turns slightly into it and God, I don't know why we keep having these intimate ass moments but right now is not the time to be having one.
I see a strange man behind him pull the trigger of a gun facing directly towards us and nope, he is not getting shot. My arms rise up to wrap around his neck and I pull him down hard on top of me, sending myself flat on my back. The bullet whooshes above us and he mumbles a thanks into my neck.
"Don't mention it."
"Captain, you good?!" I hear Fin say on the radio. "Where the fuck is Stabler?!" Bell says and well, at least both our people are looking for us.
"We're both good! Gonna take cover!"
"There's so many people with guns! We have more backup coming!" Fin yells.
Elliot is rolling off of me, settling on his hands and knees and I turn my body to do the same. "Just don't get shot!" I say as I begin to crawl towards the first 'cover' spot I can see. Elliot and I are not armed, of course we're not armed and with the current state of bullets, there's absolutely no way we're going to get a gun in our hands. There are so many bodies on the floor already, some alive, some dead, and fuck, this is bad. Really fucking bad.
We both duck behind the couch at the same time but when he goes to crawl away, I grab his shoulder, "The fuck are you doing!?"
"Gonna grab that table to cover our heads!" It's an entryway table that is not only way too short for us to sit under but also too small for both of us to even fit under.
"El! That's too small!"
"We'll make it work!"
It's the closest thing to us, so it's not like I have a better suggestion and he's right, something to cover our heads is not a bad idea. I allow him to go, keep my eyes on him the whole time and cannot contain my eye roll when he yanks the table hard enough to send everything on top of it flying. But he's quick to pull it over beside me and just as quick to wrap his arms around my waist and pull me down under the table with him.
Okay, well I guess I was wrong that we both couldn't fit under here because, obviously, if I'm on top of him we can. I'm just about to lay my head on his chest because, let's face it, there's bullets flying all around us and I just want to be in the safety of his arms, when he suddenly flips us over. So that I'm on my back, my body closest to the couch and he's almost on top of me. It's not the most comfortable and I would object but I know why he did it. Elliot is a protector. Always has been and he showed me pretty early on after he came back in a car shooting that resulted with tucked under him, that he did not lose that trait. He would rather be shot, than me be shot. And that's never been fair because before he was the one with kids, with a family to go home too and now we both have children, a child, waiting for us and shit, we both have to survive this.
But as much as I don't agree, I just wrap my arms around his back, keep his body flush against mine and try to scoot myself even closer to the couch so he's more under the table. He tries to position himself mostly on his side so his weight is off of me and I really wish my dress wasn't only so tight, but also that I didn't have this stupid ass scar, because I would probably encourage him to settle in between my legs, no matter how inappropriate it would be, or look.
"Are you okay?" He asks me. His left hand is propping his head off me, his right is settled on my side, holding me as I am holding him.
"Yeah. You scared the shit out of me though."
"Me? You scared me. You dropped before I even had a chance to get halfway to you."
"Well it was drop or get shot, and I chose to drop."
"Definitely a good choice."
"I know."
He's staring at me and I see it. See his eyes look at my lips and fuck, we are not about to have our first kiss with bullets flying. We're not. But really, how much longer am I going to make this man wait for a kiss? We were both just lucky enough to not get shot by who knows how many bullets are flying and we're not even in the clear yet. With the current state of yelling in my ear, I know we're still waiting on more backup and for the most part, I think I hear all of the voices of our units. And what if we don't get another chance? I hate to think like that, refuse to think like that, because I have Noah at home waiting for me and Elliot has five kids, two grandchildren and a mother waiting for him. And this is not the last chance we're going to have to kiss. It's not.
But the look in Elliot's eyes makes me know that he is thinking that it may just be that. Our last chance and he obviously does not want to die, although no one is fucking dying dammit, without kissing me. He wants to kiss me. Right now. Against this couch, crammed under this table with the sounds of guns firing, people yelling, screaming and crying. And fuck.
"El…"
He drags his eyes slowly back up to mine and I see the plead in them. "Please? Just let me kiss you, Liv."
Jesus. This is not the time, nor the place. I've imagined kissing Elliot plenty of times and this scenario is not one of them. Recently my fantasies have included one of our couches, in the comfort of our homes, not during a shootout. Can't we just wait until we're out of this mess to kiss? Because really, that sounds like a better idea in my mind. And God, will I ever get out of my own fucking head when it comes to this man.
I'm about to open my mouth, about to tell him that we will, I will, kiss him when we're out of here. Tonight, when we're in the safety of the four walls of my place, we will kiss. I promise we will.
But he must take the look in my eyes as rejection, because I can see the disappointment swipe across his face, can see the way he bows his head, can see the way he takes a deep breath, can feel the way he pulls away from me.
"Elliot, I…" I try to explain. I want to explain my reasoning to him but the shake of his head stops me.
"No, it's okay… I'm sorry I asked." His hand is still around me but it's not holding me as tightly and goddammit!
"El…" I try again because he needs to hear me out on this one but as soon as his eyes start their journey back to mine, we hear, "Everyone inside, take cover! We're throwing in tear gas!" Oh, that's fucking fantastic. So not only are we currently in a blood bath, we're also about to have two units out on opposed to being exposed to tear gas. And on top of that, I think I just backtracked, once again, with this fucking man who is currently removing his jacket, throwing it over his head and draping his body on top of mine so that my head is protected in his jacket as well. Great!
He keeps his mouth far from mine, buries his eyes against my shoulder and I just bury mine against his, hold on to him tight and pray that one, we get out of here soon and two, that he will listen to me.
EO
A screening of our eyes to make sure the tear gas did not affect us, of our bodies to make sure we hadn't been hit, a meeting with IAB, and a meeting with our chiefs later, Elliot and I are pulling up to my building. We haven't spoken much, just a few glances as we were answering before we got pulled in different directions. He offered to take me home because Fin had picked me up at my place when I went home to get my dress, so I obviously didn't have a car.
The ride has been mostly silent and I'm not sure what to say to ease the tension. My plan is to just get him upstairs and kiss him but when he doesn't turn off the car when I unbuckle my seatbelt my shoulders slump. "You want to come up?" Because he can. I want him to. Really want him to.
"Not tonight. I have to see my kids, you know?"
Yeah, I get that but I can't help the pang of disappointment I feel deep in my gut. I'm not good at this communication thing, I never have been. And when it comes to this aspect of communication, the aspect of why I am holding back from moving things forward with him, I'm really bad at it.
I don't like to talk about what Lewis did to me. It gives me nightmares and makes my PTSD active. Makes me panicky and it always takes me a few days to feel 'normal' again. And it's not like I cannot tell him before we do anything because the first chance he gets, he's going to want to pull my shirt off and God, I don't even remember the last time I looked at myself naked. This wasn't this hard with Burton or Ed or Brian because they all knew what happened to me. Burton is a crime writer, so of course he knew, and he used that to his advantage to get me naked. That dick. But Elliot? He doesn't know. He doesn't know anything and he needs to know something before he sees my bare skin.
But I'm at a loss of where to start because every time we're together it's nice and I don't want to ruin that niceness with the trauma. And because I don't want to do that, this man beside me is just left waiting for me. And instead of pulling him closer, I keep pulling him back and forth and I'm sure he's confused by now.
I want to do so many things at this moment. I want to tell him I'm sorry, I want to tell that I want him, I want to lean over a kiss him but… I don't do any of those things. I just nod my head in understanding and say, "Tell them I said hi."
"I will."
As I reach for the handle, I take a deep breath, "I'll see you later, El."
"Yeah, see you later."
And as I watch him drive away from my window, I feel the tears I have been keeping in since he asked to kiss me form and fall.
Fuck.