He's coming over for dinner tonight. Finally. It took another three weeks to get both our schedules clear, that's what I like to call it, but honestly I think he may have been trying to avoid me. But that's okay because tonight I'm going to kiss him. And maybe make out with him, maybe let him a cop a feel depending on how good of a kisser he is, maybe tell him about Lewis.

But, after a long due discussion with Dr. Lindstrom, I've come to the conclusion that the maybes don't matter. Those I can decide when the time comes, those I can rely on what I feel with Elliot when we get there. I need to set boundaries with myself if I want this to happen, if I want this with Elliot, if I want to be comfortable with this every step of the way. And I've decided that Elliot and I can kiss and get to second base without me having to explain Lewis, without me having to warn him about what my skin looks like. We can have fun without having to bring my trauma into it yet and it will be slow.

Now that I think of it as I pull on my choice of leggings for the day, I have never really moved slow in any relationship. Yeah, I knew Cassidy and Tucker for years before I started dating them but when it came to sex? Once that door was opened, it was opened. And why can't I have it half opened and half shut with Elliot? I'm sure he would be more than happy with that for now. And if I decide to tell him about Lewis right away, I trust myself to know when that right time is.

I'm cooking, something I have yet to do for him and I'm kind of excited for him to try my stir fry. Ten years ago he laughed at my inability to fry an egg and although, I'm still not the best cook, I'm not the worst anymore.

Noah is more than excited to see him and has already dug through his closet for a Lego building that they can build together. Noah has been… testy lately. Not to the point where I would consider him a bad kid but just to the point where he wants to ask a numerous amount of questions that I'm not ready to answer yet, like why we don't have any other family, why he doesn't have a father, what my mother was like, what sex is, if I'm going to be alone my whole life, and when I don't answer them head on like he wants, he wants to catch an attitude. I understand that he's getting older and he wants to know these things but if I need a day or two to think about the best possible answer, I should be allowed that. I am his mother, after all. So, I'm really hoping this time with Elliot will get him off my back some. Because god, I really need him off my back with these questions for a little bit.

Its five o'clock when I get dinner started and we had agreed on 5:00-5:30 for the time. So although I'm trying to concentrate on chopping vegetables, Noah beside me peeling zucchinis in the trash, I can't help staring at the clock above my television. I have no doubt that he's coming. With the rift between us again I could see him bailing on me but on Noah? There's no chance. Which is why I had actually used Noah as a pawn to get him over here.

By the time the clock hits 5:20, I can feel myself get anxious. He's coming, right? He said he would come and I don't know. I just expected him to be here by now. Maybe I'm overreacting but I swear to God if this man does not show up tonight, there will be no kissing, ever. I think I keep backtracking us? That will destroy us. And like always, perfect timing. Because just as I my blood starts to boil from frustration, there's a knock on my door. Thank goodness.

Noah is running to it before I even have a chance to put my knife down. I'm glad he has finally remembered to look through the peephole before answering the door and when he squeals Elliot's name, I blow a breath I didn't even know I was holding from my lips. Definitely overreacting.

I resume to cooking as Noah helps Elliot settle in and am a little confused when I hear him tell Noah, "Just give me one second and then I'll help you." I look up just in time to see him walk towards me with a bouquet of lilies, my favorite, and I feel my heart flutter at the fact that after all this time he remembers. Okay, maybe he's not too upset with me.

"Hey," he says.

I smile at that, "Hi."

"These are for you." He holds them out for me and I wipe my hands quickly on my kitchen towel before grabbing them and holding them up to my nose. Mmm, lilies always have the best smell. One of the reasons I love them so much.

"Thank you." He's looking at me like he wants to say something else and when I raise my eyes at him in question, we hear.

"ELLIOT! Have you given mom her flowers yet? Can you come help now?" Noah must have already made his way into his room and this child.

"Excuse me, I'm being summoned," he says and that makes me laugh.

"I'll call when dinner is done."

He gives me a nod and I watch him walk down the hallway. Why does this man have such a nice ass? Why does he have such a nice everything? Age has brought me more curves, has made me soft, while it has brought him more muscles, has made him hard… Jesus I need to not think of the word hard when it comes to this man right now. We have to make it through dinner and probably a game and movie with Noah before he will go to sleep for the night. After he's sleeping my mind can wonder there.

Dinner is good, really good if I must say so myself. I almost laugh at the look of surprise and satisfaction on Elliot's face when he takes the first bite. Yeah, I already know. Noah talks the entire time and Elliot listens attentively. Asks him questions and relays information to him that Noah asks him and it's nice. It's nice that he and Noah have bonded so well over the last few months. Even during our three months of silence they didn't lose the bond between them, much like we didn't lose the bond between us.

Monopoly is a bullshit game, especially when both Noah and Elliot kick my ass at it. I'm the first one to run out of money and I have to admit, I'm a little bit salty about losing. I've always been competitive, so to lose to both of them… it's crap. It really is. I cross my arms like a child, huff out and lean back against the chair.

When Elliot chuckles at me, I mug him, "Just wait until Noah beats you."

"Well, I'm not a sore loser like you, mom," he says and God, I'm serious about still wanting to slap this stupid ass grin off his face sometimes. As much as I love it, I hate it.

"You really are a sore loser, mom," Noah says as he rolls the dice and whatever.

But although I lost, I watch the game intently, assign myself as the banker and the distributer of properties and when we're going on hour three of the game, I can see the boredom start to spread across each of their faces. "You guys finished? Or still set on completing the game completely?"

They both look at me, both look at one another and I laugh when they both start picking up the pieces of the game at the same time. They get in a little playful tiff about who was on their way to winning, when, in my opinion, it was pretty neck and neck, while I pop some popcorn for the movie we promised Noah we would watch afterwards.

He's been begging to watch the new "Cruella" on Disney Plus and what better time to watch it than with Elliot? Noah picks a spot right in the middle of the couch and Elliot and I take our respectable sides beside him. The movie is watched in mostly silence, which is nice because it's actually a really good movie. I like how they're now making Disney movies about the villains, about the real stories behind the villains. About why they were perceived as the bad guys and why they became the bad guys. Motive and God, I'm such a fucking cop.

It's pushing 10 by the time the movie is over and I'm not at all surprised that Noah is asleep with his head in my lap. That's what happens when someone is overexcited for Elliot to come over and has me up at six in the morning. And really, he needs to stop waking me up so early on days that I'm off. I don't sleep enough as it is.

I'm running my fingers gently through his curls, something he now thinks he despises but just like it did when he was a baby; it helps him fall into a deeper sleep. Jesus, when did he get so big? He was supposed to be my baby forever. I guess in a way he always will be but that doesn't make this easier. Sometimes, sometimes, I catch myself longing for a life I never had. I love Noah and I wouldn't change what I have, what I've been given, for anything. He's mine and always will be. But another baby would have been nice. Another person to call my own. Another one to raise since an infant. Someone to be a sibling to my hazel eyed boy. Throughout the years I've thought about adopting again but I have a hard enough time at my age, with my job and with one child, let alone two.

Having a baby naturally has been out of the picture for years and sometimes I long for that too. I always wanted a family. It was never my priority because let's face it, I've never really had anyone to come home to and it's not like I was going to get pregnant by a complete fucking stranger. But to never have carried a child? Never have felt a child growing inside of me? A child moving and stretching my belly with them? It gets to me, sometimes. Not as often as it used to, I mean I'm almost 60 but it's something I will always long for. Lindstrom tells me it's not bad to long for things as long as they don't consume me. So I long for it, once in a while.

I catch Elliot watching me run my fingers through his curls and I whisper, "They grow too fast."

"Yeah, they do."

I feel my eyes brim with tears and shit, I am not going to cry right now. Because I'm supposed to get this boy to bed, so I can kiss the man next to me and now that I remember that, I need this boy in bed. "Do you mind taking him to bed for me? He's out and I don't want to wake him."

"Of course." When he lifts Noah gently from my lap, I stand to follow him because he may not be a baby anymore but I still want to tuck him in, dammit.

I whisper a thank you to Elliot as he lays Noah down and he gives me a smile and nod before heading out of the room. I kiss my sweet boy on the head, lift his covers up to cover him, smile at the way he snuggles in closer to his pillow and yup, he will always be my baby.

I'm out of the room, closing the door quietly with one mission in my mind, my lips on Elliot Stabler's, but faith is just not on our fucking side because when I hear his voice say, "You got it, Serg. I'll be right there," my heart sinks. Okay, now this is just straight up bullshit because I know we haven't kissed but I was hoping for a little more than just kissing, which is why I went for a pair of leggings and a non-padded bra today.

By the time I round the corner to my living room, he's already putting his coat and crap. "Sorry, Bell pulled in a perp we've been investigating for a while and wants me there to interrogate him."

I nod because I get it, I do. I've worked this job for over 20 years. We're lucky if we can have a night to ourselves. But I know I have a choice to make right now. I either tell him goodnight and wish him good luck with his interrogation or I kiss him before he goes. And really, do I need another regret like I had last time? No, I fucking don't. And my head? Just needs to shut the fuck up with its excuses.

So, I don't even think. I don't have to think anymore. I just walk up to him and I can see the look of confusion in his eyes before it dawns on him what exactly I'm doing. And then he's moving towards me as well because, like me, he's been waiting 24 years for this shit to happen.

Our chests connect, I tilt my chin up, he tilts his chin down, his hands fly to my waist, mine fly to his shoulders and everything is so in sync I almost have to pinch myself. And then our lips are drawing in closer at the same time. I take a deep breath a second before they connect and holy shit.

Everything I ever envisioned kissing Elliot Stabler would be like is put to shame. Literally to shame. His lips are soft and warm and we don't even pull back after the first touch. We just dive right into one another. Like we're relying on this moment to breathe and in a way, we kind of are. His lips catch my top lip, sucking it not at all gently into his mouth, while mine catch his bottom lip and when his teeth lightly nip, I moan lowly.

Oh, he likes that because his hands are around me, pulling me more flush against him, his tongue is swiping over my lips begging for entrance and I'm giving it to him. Without a doubt giving it to him. And I thought it was great with just lips? Fuck, when our tongues touch for the first time, I get dizzy. I moan again, try to use my leverage on his neck to pull myself closer to him and God, I can feel him through his pants. Yeah, I always knew he could back that ego of his. The hard length of him pressed against me just makes me more wet, I can feel the lace of my panties slipping against myself and shit I'm fucking throbbing.

Elliot is the perfect combination of soft and rough. His lips are soft but the force behind this kiss is rough. Rough in the most delicious way. His tongue is moving expertly against my own, hitting the roof my mouth, exploring every piece of me and when his hands tangle in my hair to pull slightly to deepen our kiss even more, I whimper. He groans and fuck his job right now. Because I was going to let him get to second base tonight, maybe even more, but I guess I'll take our lips sucking, our tongues dancing, our teeth nipping for tonight.

I'm not even sure when the last time I took a full breath was but I really don't care. He can kiss me for however long he wants to kiss me if he keeps kissing me like this. And the way his tongue is moving in my mouth makes me think of somewhere else I'm sure it's going to move expertly against and my thighs squeeze to try to relieve some of the ache.

But he has to go, he knows he has to go, I know he has to go and we seem to slowly pull away from one another at the same time. His lips are red, and swollen and I hope I look the same way he looks right now, thoroughly kissed. And God, I can't remember the last time I've been so thoroughly kissed, if I ever have been.

He gives me that fucking grin and okay, I kind of like it. "You think that took us long enough?" He asks as he runs his fingers through my hair.

"Definitely worth the wait."

He hums, leans down to peck my lips once more and shit, I really don't want him to go. "I'm sorry I have to go."

I shake my head, run my hands across his shoulders and I cannot wait to touch this man without a shirt on, "Me too. I was going to let you get to second base tonight."

He growls at that, pulls me once more against him, "Benson…" his tone is one that radiates warning and sex, and fuck, I like it.

I like it so much, I push a little more just to hear it again, "You could have gotten to second base after the shootout if you would have came up." He's confused, I can see it in his eyes, and I can't help but laugh lightly. He and I definitely need to work on our communication skills. "I didn't tell you no, El. I was just wanting to wait until we were in the safety of four walls. So we could let ourselves go."

He groans. And I'm not sure if it's from frustration or arousal but whichever, I'll take it. He leans down, kisses me again, allows me to dart my tongue out again to connect to his and that's it. Bell is just not going to get her detective tonight. She's not. But Elliot actually holds more resolve than me, go figure, and still manages to disconnect his lips from me. I whimper, because Jesus, I just want him to kiss me forever. I just want some friction against my swollen clit; I just want him to make me come. Fuck. This really is bullshit. I don't even realize I've said that last thought out loud until he's groaning his agreement.

"I know. But we'll figure it out."

I nod. Because we will, I know we will. I tilt my chin up, sensually kiss his lips once more, drag his top lip into my mouth and God, if kissing this man is this good, what is everything else going to be like? He's going to wreck me. Then I'm dropping my hands from his shoulders because if he's going, he needs to go. Right fucking now or I'm just going to push him down on the couch.

"Go," I whisper, stepping back from him so that neither one of us are tempted to connect once more.

He nods, turns his body to make his way towards my door and since I have to lock it behind him, I follow him. As I go to close the door behind him he turns abruptly, stops the door with his hand and when he reaches for me I open my arms to let him. Let him wrap his arms back around me, let my own hands wrap around this bald head of his, let him descend his lips back onto mine and God, why does he fucking have to leave. I don't even know how long our lips are connected, our tongues once again swiping against one another, moans falling deep from my throat and his hand is just about to drop down to, what I think, grab a hand full of ass, and I'm absolutely going to let him, when his phone rings once more. Fucking Bell.

His lips tear from mine with a groan and I'm glad that I'm not the only one fucking irritated at the Sergeant right now and shit, how many times have I interrupted my detectives in moments like these. I kind of want to apologize to all of them.

"Yeah? I'm already coming. What file? Shit, I don't know. It may be in my trunk." Bell must still be talking to him because he covers the mouth piece, leans forward to peck my lips quietly once more, makes me blush and Jesus, I feel like a high school girl right now.

I mouth a "Bye," to him. He mouths one back and I watch him walk down the hallway once more talking to Bell on the phone. It may not be how I expected the night to end but it's exactly how it's supposed to be. And it's perfect. Absolutely perfect.