A/N: Hello, folks. Here is your chapter 4! The story has kind of gone in a direction I wasn't expecting. Lol But I am feeling pretty great about it. I love reading all your wonderful comments/reviews! Still seeking a Beta, btw. Pairing is E/O. Tuckson fans ... I'm sorry.

Rating: Strong T for language (sorry, not M yet, but the payoff will be good, I promise)

Spoilers: Same as last chapter

Disclaimer: Not mine. Never will be mine. Mariska, pls be mine. 😍

Talisman: 4

the very thought of you/has my legs spread apart/like an easel with a canvas/begging for art - rupi kaur

He banished himself back to the balcony. Like a dog who'd peed on the rug, he stayed there late into the night. More than six years apart and he'd somehow managed to let it get away from him in less than a month. The older he got, the easier it was getting to believe the lesson that his years at SVU had tried, and failed, to teach him: he was never going to learn.

Elliot couldn't be sure how much of his feeling betrayed was rightfully earned, from years of managing to refrain from putting Tucker in traction - and how much of it was, well, personal. He wanted to think that his testosterone was in better check nowadays, but the real truth of it all was, his testosterone had never been in check where Liv was concerned - not once, in 18 years.

Sure, he could rationalize, and say it was because he hated Tucker - for going after him all those years. The man had backed El into a corner when that last shoot had gone down, causing Elliot to lose so much more than just the job. Some of us are people outside the job, Olivia had said, not knowing how deep that fear ran.

He'd never told her - or anyone - how he had cursed his faith, his likeness to his long-dead father, and the woeful ironies of timing. Elliot's long-suffering marriage had gone on longer than he could have dreamed - laboring for years under the assumption that Kathy would get fed up and finally give up on him.

It was an odd bid for freedom, he knew. But his stubborn ties to his faith, not to mention a senseless drive to atone for his parents' disastrous marriage, made it the only freedom Elliot was willing to entertain.

Part of El had gotten to wondering, since retiring, that if he'd tried harder, to stay, if things might have finally gone in his favor. Maybe he could have put down his cross to bear, and learned how to be someone . . . outside the job. Because somewhere along the way, he'd forgotten.

And entertaining the idea that Ed Tucker - of all the fucking jack holes - had stuck around long enough to scoop up what should have been Elliot's life, was just enough to get Elliot thinking about throwing himself from the fucking balcony.

It was the thought that finally drove him inside, to bed.

ii.

"You okay?" Barba asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. What's up?"

"You sure? For a second there when you picked up, you sounded disappointed."

"I'm good. What do you need?"

Olivia fidgeted with items on her desk while Rafael went over a few things he needed for a casae. She'd had an obsessive eye on her phone all morning, despite her having been the one who had asked Elliot to leave.

It felt an awul lot like six and half years ago: waiting for the phone to ring, her pulse hammering with every ding of a text message.

Liv thought of all the work she'd done, on herself, on her career, and everything that she had overcome. And all of it - without Elliot. She was more than just "Benson and Stabler," now, more, even, than "the one who used to be Elliot Stabler's partner." There was Noah to think about, and the thought of somehow going backwards, after such immese, painful self-growth . . . knocked the wind out of her.

As much as she craved him, she wasn't ready anymore, to jump into the path of Elliot's self-destruction. Olivia exhaled a heavy breath as she flipped her cell over, face-down on her desk.

"No going backwards," she whispered.

iii.

WANNA GRAB SOME LUNCH?

Elliot put down the file he was scouring and picked up his cell from the passenger seat. it was Kathleen. Every now and then, the two of them would go to lunch together when they were working close by each other.

Since her Bipolar diagnosis nearly a decade ago, Kathleen was the one of his five children that he was closest with. It wasn't immediate; it had happened slowly over the years, as his daughter had gotten healthy, and then had found a use for her intelligence and her journey.

Kathleen had less patience than her mother, and a way of pushing Elliot, just enough to end up making the truths he feared seem childish, at times. It reminded him of Liv, to be honest - and how she could see through him, no matter how hard he fought to hide.

PLEASE! he texted back. PASTA?

YOU READ MY MIND.

iv.

He met her in a greasy little Italian place that she loved.

"This place is probably a mob front - you know that, right?" He dropped into the booth across from Kathleen.

"So what if it is?" she shrugged as she sipped her water. "The food's amazing. Isn't that what you came for?"

"Well," he smirked, "the company's not too bad, either."

"How's work, Dad?"

"Oh, you know, same old story." Elliot glanced at the menu, even though they never really needed it. "I just got assigned a new file. How's yours?"

"The best!" she chirped, as was her norm. Every challenge just kept the fire in her eyes lit. He'd hardly heard her complain since university ended - she often joked that it was his reward for putting up with her as a teen.

The waiter came, and they got their usual, which for her was a Caesar salad and a piece of lasagna, for him, spaghetti with meatballs. Elliot often snuck glances at his daughter during these informal lunches, overwhelmed by the fact of his children growing older, and the changes in them every time he saw them.

Rarely did theyever get dessert, but would linger over cups of coffee - or sometimes a glass of wine, since her father's days of telling her what to do were put to rest.

"How are things with mom?" she asked him that day, catching her father staring out the window.

"Fine," Elliot told her, with no attempt to go into any detail.

"Mm. Yeah. Fine," Kathleen echoed. "I'm sorry to hear that."

El raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"C'mon, Dad." Kathleen wrapped both hands around her coffee mug. "You've said the same thing about you and mom now for as long as I can remember."

"So? Is 'fine,' not 'fine' anymore?"

"You and mom weren't always fine," she stressed. "For years now - definitely not fine."

He shifted, uncomfortable. "Are you tryin' to shrink me, right now?"

"Dad." Her voice was serious, and the smirk slipped off his face. "All those years ago, when you and mom split up . . . did you guys ever talk about divorce?"

There was a heavy silence between them for a minute. El and Kathy had never fully discussed with the kids the divorce that was never completely processed, those ten years ago. And because it never came to pass, they'd seen no reason to discuss it after the fact, either. But none of their kids were stupid.

"Talk about how it's a sin, you mean?"

It was a poor stall, at best - as Elliot was well aware that Kathleen hadn't grown to exactly embrace her faith. She told him once that Catholicism wasn't "the religion of addicts."

"That reminds me - I've been meaing to welcome you to the twenty-first century. . . ." Kathleen rolled her eyes.

Her father fidgeted with his napkin, then sighed. "You think your mother would be happier without me, huh?"

She was smart. Not cruel. "No. I think you guys spent a lot of years raising us . . . and did a great job. But, I also think people change," she shrugged. "Spending as much time apart as you and mom had to, only makes that gap wider."

Kathleen touched her father's hand gently, across the table. "I just think both of you have waited long, and worked hard enough to deserve something . . . more."

"What about Eli?"

"Eli is a strong kid," she reminded him. "Besides - d'you think watching you and mom mope around the house together is doing him any favors?"

El squirmed under his 28-year-old daughter's gaze, and the wisdow beyond her years there. "Did your mom ask you to talk to me?" he asked quietly.

Kathleen snorted. "Mom? No." Finishing her coffee, she glanced at her watch. "You should know better. I gotta run, Dad." Elliot reahed for the bill, but she stopped him. "I'll get it."

"You handing out your counselling for free now?" he chuckled.

"Well," she grinned as she stood up, "when we're even, you'll know." She kissed his cheek, leaning into the booth. "Bye, Daddy."

v.

It had taken Liv a long time to convince Rollins to go home and be with Jesse, and now, she was about ready to do the same. Only the overnight guys were left in the bullpen - and then stuck mostly to their desks, making it the quietest time of day for SVU, usually.

Liv put her things together as her laptop shut down, and found her keys. She was looking over her shoulder, making sure she hadn't forgotten anything, before she went to lock her office door, when he spoke:

"Never thought I'd step foot in this place again."

Elliot was perched on the edge of a desk, across from the door, with his arms folded loosely over his chest. Just the image of him, back in the precinct, raised goosebumps as if he were a ghost. Olivia slowly pulled her glasses down the bridge of her nose and off.

"Hi, Liv."

Her head dipped. "Hey, Elliot."

"You have a minute?"

She pushed the door open, gesturing back inside the office. She turned on the light. "What's up, El?" Liv kept her voice neutral and light, folding her glasses shut.

He was smiling when she looked up, and she just managed to keep from rolling her eyes. "The glasses look good," he told her.

"Thanks." She waited, refusing to engage until she had a feel for where his head was.

Elliot cleared his throat. "Liv, I uh . . . I came to apologize."

She waited.

"Apparently retirement hasn't done anything for my communication skills, either. Look, Liv - I never shoulda jumped down your throat like that. And I really am sorry. I'm sure neither of us expected me to find out, that way.

"Noah just . . . caught me off-guard, that's all. I just hope that you can understand why it was so hard for me to hear. Even if it has been a long time."

"Yeah." Liv chuffed out a sigh. "Yeah, I do. I mean, I can." She looked up at him as she sat on her office couch. "I'm sorry you found out that way."

Elliot took his time, in the silence that followed, admiring Liv: the healthy weight she'd put on, every new laugh line, every worry line that he had been forced to miss. Her face, so familiar but more wise, that El had tried to forget was so beautiful. It was no longer clear to him how he'd managed to work by her side for 12 years.

His heart was racing. He tried hard to remember the last time Kathy had set his heart going like that.

"Noah's adopted, El."

Elliot couldn't very well say he was relieved, so he nodded. "Good for you, Liv. He's beautiful." He did not ask where the child had come from.

"It's been . . . hard," Liv admitted, "but also just the best damn thing." When she looked up, she caught him staring out the window of what he probably still thought of as 'Cragen's old office.'

She got up, crossing to stand behind him. Stabler had left before there was time for him to adjust to the new precinct. Even with all the changes . . . Elliot's eyes were rooted to the spot where Jenna Fox hadbeen shot, in 2011.

Olivia took a deep breath, wanting to tell him that it wasn't his fault, but knew that would devolve into his reasons why it was. Instead, she stepped up next to him so they were shoulder-to-shoulder.

"It's a different place, without you," she said softly.

"Thanks." He tried to smile, but it was gone beore it even reached the corners of his mouth. "The world's a different place, too, Liv. The job moved on, too."

"You're a great cop, Elliot. I . . . " she hesitated, "I really wanted you to come back."

Elliot never took his eyes from the window. He felt his stomach turn over as he spoke:

"I might have - if it wasn't for Tucker."

vi.

"What did you just say?" Liv's voice was breathless.

Elliot grit his teeth until he could feel his pulse in his jaw. He levelled his voice and tried not to start another fight. "Olivia . . . " he turned his head finally, to look at her.

"El, don't. I know how much you hate Tucker, but . . ."

"Didn't you ever ask, Liv?" El reached a hand, intending to touch her shoulder, but she took a step back. "Cragen never told you?"

"Told me what?! Or better yet, why didn't you tell me yourself?"

He took another deep breath, walked back to the desk. "After the shoot, Liv, at first all I wanted was to come back - and to talk to you. The next thing I know, I'm in the middle of IAB's investigation . . . hours, every day, answering the same questions over and over.

"Then it was just me and Tucker - he wanted to go over every event in my jacket, Liv. Goin back more than just 12 years. More than just SVU. He wanted everything - all of it."

Liv looked at him blandly. "That was his job, El."

"You're right, it was. But you know how he was - he always liked to get a dig in, any way he could. And after we'd been at it a few days, he starts askin me . . . " Elliot trailed off, looking away.

"Asking yu what?"

"Asking me about you. What kind of partner did I think I was, with you . . . if I thought maybe you deserved a better partner. One who didn't - you know - fly off the handle. The more he went on, the more it seemed like he was insinuating something inappropriate."

Liv bristled. "You and I both know we never crossed that line."

"I know that. And you know that - but what did Tucker think he knew? Fucked if I know. The more I tried to steer the conversation back to Jenna . . . the more he started spinning his theory, that I had been a lousy partner for a dozen years, and that there must have been a reason why.

"Finally, I flat out refused to answer any questions about you, or our being partners. That's when he gave me an ultimatum. He said I could come back and partner with someone else. They would close the case and just have me submit to regular reviews. Or . . . I could come back and partner with you. As long as I agreed to a battery of psych evals, reprimands, duty restrictions - you name it."

Olivia was gaping at him. Her throat was tight with anger and tears that she refused to give way to.

"I wanted to come back, Liv. But I didn't wanna work with someone who wasn't you - and I didn't want Tucker making my life, yours, a working hell for who knew how long. Not only that, maybe . . . maybe part of me bought his story. I thought maybe you could do better. If I left."

Olivia scoffed. "El, you know that's -"

"Not true?" he finished for her. "So you say, Liv, but . . . you deserved this office, and that child long before I left. Have you ever considered maybe I was holding you back?"

"No," she said flatly. "Because It's not true. How could you think that?"

They both fell silent; their breathing heavy in the quiet room. Olivia thought of Tucker - in Paris, playing with Noah, thought of every time he had made her smile. Her head was throbbing with confusion, and disbelief. She needed the truth, but more than that, she needed to get away from Elliot before she lost her composure.

"You should go," she said, meeting his eyes. Without asking, she knew he could see what she was feeling - a trait in him that she both loved, and hated. "Please."

Elliot left without anything more to say, closing the office door behind him.

Liv's lip began to tremble.