Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. CSI is the intellectual property of Anthony E. Zuiker. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.

"I can't believe you told him," Olivia spat harshly, her voice a gravelly whisper. She was comparing a local construction company's employee records and sign-in sheets to a list of the people who'd contacted White while he was in prison.

Elliot, doing the same with the logs from another company, flipped pages with one hand as the other cupped Olivia's right knee, under the table. He pressed firmly, stopping it from bobbing and bouncing, and leaned closer to her. His voice dropped, but came out more lustful than irritated. "You're lucky I didn't tell him what else I did to you, last night." He crooked a brow at her and smirked.

She sighed, trying to keep her lips from curling into a smile. Failing, she grinned t him and rolled he eyes. "But you didn't have to tell him…that." She shot Fin a hazarding look, making sure he was fully engrossed in files and ignoring them. Satisfied that he was oblivious enough, she turned back to Elliot. "We haven't even talked about what the hell happened last night, or if you even want…"

"Excuse me," he interrupted, annoyed now, "You think that this wasn't going to happen, eventually?"

She rubbed four fingertips across her forehead and exhaled again."I think we had way too much to drink, I think we acted on impulse, and I think as the liquor works its way completely out of your system, you're going to realize what this means, and you're…"

"I'm not going to regret a fucking thing," he said, cutting her off, his hand working up higher on her thigh, his fingers curling between her legs. "You know we weren't that plastered." He saw her raise both of her eyebrows and tilt her head down, and he laughed. "Okay, uh, maybe we were. But we sobered up when we got back to the hotel, and I remember every fucking detail of that. I always do." He licked his lips. "It, uh, it was different, last night. Something was different, right?"

She bit her lip, suppressing the moan that had threatened to come to life, responding to his hand nestling itself at her juncture. "We were more possessive, but more…I don't know…uninhibited. It felt more…real."

"Because we made it real. And permanent," he whispered to her. "No more fear, or wondering what we're going to do to fuck it up, and something about…knowing that you are completely and totally mine, that no one else would ever love you the way you know I do, that no one else would ever…"

"Guys," Fin's voice broke into their personal conversation, sitting up and leaning forward, "I think I got something."

Olivia held out her hand, taking the packet of paper Fin offered to her. "What?" she asked, looking across the table at him.

Fin handed another stack of stapled paper to Elliot. "A few months ago, a guy named Roger Hanlin…his name shows up on White's visitor log, every day for six weeks, then never again. His name is on that roster," he pointed to Elliot's hands. "Conscious Construction, he's a job foreman, guess what job."

"Down the block from the bookstore," Elliot said, reading the logs. "This could be the break we've been looking for," he said, his face breaking into a somewhat relieved smile. "I'm going to make a phone…"

"No, you're not," Nick argued, pushing through into the conference room. It was the first thing he'd said to anyone since Elliot made his accidental admission. He sat, across from Olivia, and eyed the door as Grissom and Catherine walked in.

Grissom looked around. "What did the three of you find?" he asked, dropping his gaze to Olivia.

"Roger Hanlin," she said, handing him the papers she'd taken from Fin. "Has a connection to White and works in construction." She looked at Fin, then at Elliot, and then said, "He's the foreman on the new casino lot, a block away from the bookstore."

"Good, it's a start," Grissom folded his arms. "We can use that to get a warrant." He looked over to Catherine. "Give Brass a call, see how fast he can make that happen."

"Yeah," Catherine said, nodding. On her way out, though, she stopped net to Olivia, smiled at her, and leaned down to give her a short, but tight, hug. "Congratulations," she whispered. Leaving Olivia stunned, she shot a wink toward Elliot and walked out of the room again, to make the phone call Elliot had planned to make only moments ago.

"You told them?" Elliot asked, glaring across table at Nick.

Nick licked his lips with narrow eyes, nodding. "Doesn't really matter, does it?"

"What was that about?" Fin asked, smirking curiously at Olivia.

"Nothing," Olivia said to him. "Just, uh, girl talk."

Nick chuckled as he leaned over the table and whispered harshly to Elliot. "Man, he doesn't know?"

"Up until you opened your mouth," Elliot said, giving Nick a cold stare, "No one else did."

"Sorry," Nick said with a shrug. He cleared his throat and looked up at Grissom. "Hodges has the clothes Warrick found in he dumpster. He's running…"

"Yes, I know," Grissom said to him. He looked at Elliot. "When Brass gives us the go ahead, I want you and Olivia to meet him here, and he'll take you to the site. I'll send a few of my guys along with you, see if we can find the missing pieces of...White's puzzle." He took a deep breath and then let his eyes travel to Olivia's. He smiled at her, tilted his head, and whispered to her, "If he ever hurts you…" he paused, rested a hand on her shoulder, and squeezed as he told her without words what he needed to say. "I'd get away with it, you know."

She laughed. "Yeah," she said, smiling at him, "I know." She grew serious, her eyes boring into his, her smile a genuine, soft, yet severe one. "He won't, though."

Grissom nodded, straightened up, and then looked at Fin. "You have any experience in a lab?"

Fin thought for a moment. "Once, I watched Melinda Warner cut open a…"

"So, that's a 'no,'" Grissom interrupted. "Come with me, I'd like to introduce you to someone. You're going to help him with a couple of things."

Olivia watched Grissom leave with Fin, and looked back at Nick. "Why the hell did you tell him?"

"Because I thought he would talk you out of it," Nick scowled. "I thought he would convince you that you rushed into something you weren't ready for, and that you'd realize it, but he told me he already knew about it, and that he was happy for you, so I…"

Elliot stopped him. "He said he knew?" His head whipped toward Olivia. "How could he possibly know?"

Olivia reached over to him and pulled something grey and fuzzy off of his shoulder. "He's the most accredited criminologist in the country, El. He probably figured it out. Maybe you looked at me funny, or I walked with a weird kick in my step, or maybe he saw it in our eyes. What were you two really talking about this morning?"

Elliot's eyes closed and he laughed, realizing. "Yeah, I, uh, I guess he did know, after all." He sighed and looked at Nick. "Look, I know how you feel, and I don't…I don't blame you, all right? I knew, when I started falling for her, that I would never get over her. And for years, I had no choice but to pretend…to lie to myself…to her." He exhaled. "But we didn't rush into anything. It actually…took us way too long to get here, and I am more ready to give her everything, everything I have, everything she wants and needs." He licked his lips and squeezed her thigh, letting two of his fingers push upward, into her clothed heat. He chuckled to himself, feeling the warmth radiate, enveloping his hand. "Thing is, what she needs now, is for you to understand that you have to let go of whatever you had, years ago, no matter how painful it is, because even if we didn't get drunk and stupid, here, last night…eventually, you all would've been getting wedding invitations in the mail."

Nick looked at Elliot, as if seeing him for the first time. He swallowed hard, nodded, and got up out of his seat. "I should…I should get back to work." He walked out without saying anything to Olivia, leaving her alone in the room with Elliot.

There was a moment of silence, and then Olivia spoke. "You just said…"

"I know what I said," he countered, overlapping her. "The way this started, you and me, wasn't exactly honorable, but damn, I've been in love with you for so fucking long…I don't think we would have made it more than a month without me putting a ring on your finger." He blinked, swallowed, and said, "And let's face it, if we tried to make this work, one of us would have fucked up, or I would've pushed too hard, you would have scared me shitless…"

"We wouldn't have fucked up," she argued. Her eyes turned downward, she frowned a bit, and she smiled sadly as she took his free hand in hers and shifted in her seat. "I need you to tell me if we just did. If last night…"

His lips stopped her question; his kiss made her moan and gasp slightly. He pulled away slowly, brushing his nose against hers. "I think we're in deep shit," he laughed, "But I don't think we fucked up. I think…no, I know…whatever parts of our brains that were working last night were trying to protect us, trying to set in stone what we never would have, otherwise. We did…what we wanted to do. For once, we didn't care about what Cragen would do, how my ex would react, how the kids would handle it, and we did something…for us. Were we stupid, selfish, and fucking shitfaced? Yes, but I knew what I was doing." He gave her nose another nudge with his. "You did, too, didn't you?"

She smiled, still looking down at her hand in his, and she nodded. Facing him fully, she said, "That's part of why I was so bitchy this morning. Besides the hangover, I thought you'd be looking for the first available opportunity to have it annulled."

"Eight years," he said to her. "Eight years, six months, four days, twelve hours, and seventeen minutes. That's how long, Liv. Morning coffee, late-night burgers, hours in a car alone, nights up in the bunks, a few undercover gigs where I got to play the part of your husband, proudly calling you my wife…those were the best dates of my life. You can't tell me you didn't think of them that way. I know, uh, I know how you must have felt when I made that first move, but I swear to you…"

"El, I know," she said, to him, letting go of his hand and cupping his face. "You're not as bloodless as you think. I saw right through you, and I felt everything you were feeling. I wouldn't have…" she pressed her lips together and moved closer to him. "If there was ever a doubt in my mind that it was meaningless, it never would've happened. And we had enough conversations about your marriage, and its problems, for me to know that you weren't using me, that you weren't sleeping with…her." She brushed the pads of her thumbs under his eyes, smoothing out the dark circles and bags leftover from their alcohol-fueled, sex-filled, sleepless night. "And when she left, God, you were so fucking happy," she laughed, shaking her head. "You wouldn't let me get out of your bed for…" Her words were cut off with another kiss, a deeper one, more eager, more desperate. She whimpered against his lips, her way of succumbing, of caving, of finally surrendering to the truth.

He smiled as he pulled back, breathless, keeping their foreheads pressed together with one hand looped around her neck. "Every time I kiss you," he panted, "It's like I can feel…everything. Everything." He kissed her again and mumbled something against her lips, chuckling when she murmured a response into his mouth. Breaking away from her again, his smile faded. "I know…I know we made a pretty big decision, last night. And it's…I know it's not going to be easy. We weren't even really…fully…together." He brushed her hair back and looked into her eyes. "I'm not easy to live with, we have to hide this at work, my kids are probably going to have a thing or two to say about it. We made a big fucking mess, and I know…it's not going to be simple, trying to make this work...but I want to try, like hell."

She didn't know she was crying, not until she felt him wiping away the tears that had rolled down her cheeks. "As much as this terrifies me to say," she said, and then she sniffled and let out a shaky laugh, "So do I."

"Relieved, he let his shoulders drop, and his eyes rolled as he laughed again, cupping her face and kissing her hard. A clearing throat tore them apart, and as they both turned slightly red, they looked sheepishly at the man in the doorway.

Grissom grinned. "Brass is here, he's got your warrant," he said. "You ready?"

Elliot nodded, standing, and he pulled down his tee shirt as he watched Olivia rise. "Yeah, we are," he said, and he looked at her. "For everything."

"Don't be so sure of that," Grissom said, eyeing them both warningly. He led them out of the room, into the hallway toward Sherriff Jim Brass, and toward something they weren't prepared for, at all.

Peace and Love

Jo