Prompt #57: Jet and Liv have an impromptu talk about intimacy and letting the people who matter most inside the walls they've constructed. This leads to some revelations for both women concerning the men in their lives.


Girl Talk

~oOo~

It's for the best.

That's what Jet tells herself as she drops her phone, face down so she doesn't have to see his reply. He'd changed, of late. He was asking for more than she wanted to give — asking for dates, to spend the night, to think about the future.

That's not what they'd agreed on.

She'd wanted him to be the same as all her previous men — easy, impersonal, and now…gone.

Her phone buzzes. He's replied to her text. She places her hands on her keyboard instead, resolutely ignoring it.

It was his fault. She'd have been perfectly happy to keep on going with things the way they were. Work kept her busy, and she wasn't willing to give up on any of her hobbies, so she had very little time left for him. All she wanted was a friend who would come over late at night and give her orgasms.

But then he had to start getting under her skin. Bringing boba tea to the squad room when he knew she was busy and her blood sugar would be crashing…hanging back after he'd helped Elliot with a case so he could see her home. It was annoying.

His text today was the final straw. Labor Day weekend at his brother's cabin — no thanks. And that was before she'd even learned that his brother was going to be there, with his wife and daughter. She was being invited on a goddamn family trip.

She'd had to end it. She had no choice.

It was for the best.

~oOo~

Olivia's eyes are glued to her phone as she steps off the elevator.

At OCCB now. Stand by — will let you know what she has asap.

She shoots off the text to Fin and almost collides with Ayanna on her way around the corner. "Ayanna. Hi."

"Captain." Ayanna takes a step back. "Sorry. Wasn't expecting you."

"I'm here to see Detective Slootmaekers. I emailed her—"

"The cyber porn thing. Right. She mentioned it." Ayanna glances down at her phone and her expression tightens, lips pressed together. "Uh…she's at her desk. Sorry, I've got a bit of a personal situation here…"

"Go," Olivia reassures her. "It's fine. I'll find Jet."

"Great. Stabler's on his way back — he'll be glad to see you."

Olivia doubts that, but Ayanna is already turning to slide past her in the corridor, making for the elevator and jabbing at the screen of her phone. She and Elliot have barely spoken since the Sirenko case wrapped up at the end of summer. She's busy, sure, and so is he…but with every passing week, their heavy caseloads are beginning to feel more and more like an excuse. A convenient barrier between them, halting any true progress they could be making together.

Olivia sighs and moves further into the squad room. She nods to a few detectives that she's come to know over the past year and they smile back, used to seeing her around here now. Jet is at her desk, eyes fixed on her screen, large headphones over her ears. Olivia has to tap her shoulder before she looks up, startled, and pushes the headphones off. "Didn't see you."

"I noticed." Olivia smiles at the younger woman. "I just came by for—"

"Cyber porn ring. Yup. Got it." Jet reaches for a folder by her left elbow, and as she does her phone vibrates on the desk. Olivia is surprised to see her almost physically flinch away from the thing. "The website looks pretty professional. IP address is bouncing all over Manhattan, but I was able to get around the firewall. Address is in the file, somewhere in Harlem."

Olivia flicks through the detailed pages, once again struck by Jet's meticulous work and attention to detail. "Excellent. Thank you."

Jet's mouth twists a little. "Some of those girls didn't look old enough to be out of middle school. I just hope you catch the perverts."

"Well, this is a huge step to making that happen." The phone buzzes again repeatedly, a call this time, and Jet's whole body tenses and arcs away from it. "Everything okay there?"

Her dark eyes flick to it and away again. "Yeah, it's just…yeah." She sighs, and Olivia has a million and one other things to do today but there's something in Jet's expression that keeps her feet grounded to the floor. "It's nothing." Jet shrugs and the vibrating phone falls mercifully silent.

"Elliot mentioned you were seeing someone," she says carefully, and Jet's shrewd eyes find her at once.

"I wasn't 'seeing' anybody," she huffs. "There was a guy around, for a bit, but…" She trails off, one hand reaching absentmindedly for her hair and seeming surprised to find it gone, cropped into a similar low-maintenance style that Olivia herself had favored when she first made Detective. "I ended things."

"Oh." Olivia nods, turning the folder over in her hands. "Not feeling it?"

"No, he just…" Jet lets out a whoosh of air. "We had rules, and he didn't follow them. He wanted more."

"And you didn't?"

Jet glares up at her. "We had rules."

A beat of silence, then Olivia says, "Right." She shifts a little, wonders if she should just excuse herself now, but Jet is holding her gaze and eventually lets out an exasperated sigh.

"I didn't ask for a…relationship, you know? I never wanted that. I'm busy here, and I'm just starting out. Sometimes I work all night and I don't want to answer questions about it when I get home. Sometimes I see horrible shit—" her voice starts to tremble a little, "and I have to do horrible shit, and it's impossible to tell someone all about that, put all that shit in their head and still expect them to fuck you afterward." Her eyes widen in sudden horror, and she sucks in a breath. "I'm sorry, Captain. I shouldn't have said..."

Olivia props a hip against Jet's desk, holding up a hand to stem the apology. "Don't worry about it. Look, Jet…I get it. Believe me, I do. I was exactly the same when I was starting out."

"Really?"

"Of course. Even more so, possibly – there was a lot a female officer had to do to prove herself, back then. In the Dark Ages." She grins, and Jet's expression clears a little. "I felt like I had to work later than my male colleagues, chase more leads, act tougher. I had zero time for romance – I felt like it would soften me when I couldn't afford to be softened, you know?"

A hint of a smirk plays on Jet's lips. "Did Stabler make you feel like that?"

Olivia gives a sardonic chuckle. "Elliot never made me feel inferior as an officer, no. But he was certainly happy I had no time for romance. Any time I did date, he would…" She remembers who she's talking to, and quickly shakes her head. "Well, he didn't love it."

Jet is fidgeting with a multicolored plush octopus now, weaving its tentacles in and out of her fingers. "So you get it…putting the job first?"

Olivia considers the words. She doesn't like the expression – never has, really – and it brings to mind the echo of a conversation from years ago.

We both chose each other over the job…we can never let that happen again.

"The thing with putting the job first, Jet," she says carefully, "is that the job doesn't reciprocate." She hesitates for a moment, trying to find the right words. "I'm not saying that you shouldn't dedicate yourself to your work, but…there's a lot of lonely nights along that road. How old are you, anyway?"

"Twenty-four."

Christ, she's a baby. "And you've already made Detective. Very impressive."

"I graduated high school early. Been on the fast-track ever since."

"Elliot's told me how talented you are."

A slight pinkness spreads over Jet's cheeks. "Yeah, well. I like this work. It's interesting, and it's nice to feel like I'm helping." Her eyes shift away, then, and a haunted look crosses her features. Olivia doesn't know Jet well, but she's seen that look a hundred times before on a hundred different faces. She knows what's plaguing her.

"You had to shoot a man recently, didn't you?" Jet doesn't look up. "El told me that, too."

"You guys seem to talk about me a lot."

Olivia gives a low laugh. "Yeah, we talk about you. Ayanna, too. My squad." Anything except what really matters, what we actually need to talk about. "I was older than you for my first. Early thirties, I think." Thirty-two, actually, and three months and six days, but Jet doesn't need to know the date is burned into Olivia's brain like a cattle brand. She tries to keep her tone light. "I got him in the shoulder. It didn't kill him, but he screamed like a dying goat. Went home alone, that night, and that scream echoed through my head for hours." She appraises the other woman. "Did you have anyone to go home to after yours?"

Jet's tongue darts out and wets her lower lip. "I did."

"That's good. You're lucky."

Jet studies her octopus for a little longer, lines creasing her alabaster forehead, then she looks back up at Olivia. "I've followed your career for as long as I can remember, you know."

Olivia raises an eyebrow. "That so?"

She shrugs a shoulder. "I wanted to be a cop when I was younger. Like a lot of kids, I guess. I grew out of it in high school, but then I met Stabler in Rome and…well." She spreads her hands, indicating the vast expanse of her NYPD-assigned desk and chair. "Here we are. I knew about you and Stabler, used to see your pictures in the paper when you were coming out of court and stuff like that. You intrigued me." Her mouth twitches in an embarrassed smile. "My mom didn't work, so it was cool to see a woman doing a job like this. You always seemed so tough, y'know? Like you didn't need anybody else at all."

Her words are clearly intended as praise, but Olivia feels a needle in her chest. "Really? That's how you saw me?"

Jet shrugs again. "Well, yeah. Like you had Stabler, sure. But then he left, and you just kept kicking butt all on your own. Didn't need anyone."

"I mean, I had partners after Elliot…"

"Eh." Jet's tone is dismissive, and Olivia can't help but feel a little offended for Nick. She starts tossing her octopus from hand to hand. "Anyway, you're – what? Late forties now?" Olivia scoffs, but Jet doesn't seem to notice. "And you're still kicking butt. All on your own."

All on my own.

The words prickle her, but she doesn't fully understand why. Jet is right – she has spent much of her life alone. She hasn't let herself get tied down to anyone, hasn't had anyone wondering when she might get home each night during her meteoric rise through the ranks of the NYPD. No one except her son, of course. Even her handful of serious relationships – Cassidy, Tucker – were on the job themselves, understood the demands and constraints. Sure, they didn't last, but she doubts she could've managed even those meager milestones with a civilian boyfriend. Never even bothered to try.

Jet's chewing her lower lip anxiously now. "Sorry. I didn't mean to assume…I mean, there must have been a guy, right? Your son's dad. Do you…is he around?"

Olivia interlaces her fingers in her lap. She considers evading the question, but there's something about this young detective, about her take-no-bullshit attitude and her confident, impassive expression – not to mention that hairstyle – that reminds Olivia of herself at that age. So she tells her the truth. "Noah's actually adopted. His birth parents are both dead."

"Oh." Jet's eyes flicker. "Shit. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. He doesn't remember them, but he knows the story. He's come to terms with it."

"See, this is what I mean." Jet huffs out a breath. "You're just…you're so damn cool. You get to raise a child without sacrificing your career. It's perfect."

"It's…far from perfect, Jet."

Her multitude of sacrifices dance on the tip of her tongue, ghostly voices echoing from years past. Brian's imploring requests to open up to him, knowing that she never would. Ed's stoic acceptance that to her, he would never come first. The gnawing desire she'd had for long years before Noah, the yearning for a child of her own, the cruel dismissal of the adoption agencies. Not prime parent material. The long, lonely nights, coming home after her child is long asleep; celebrating birthdays, Christmases, school plays over Facetime. Noah watching his classmates play with siblings, cousins, grandparents, and being unable to provide him with anybody except herself and his nanny.

He'd never complained. Of course he hadn't, her beautiful boy…but that didn't stop Olivia feeling absolutely rotten every time she couldn't make it to a recital, or slipped away in the early hours before he woke, leaving Lucy to fix his breakfast and get him to school. The guilt she felt whenever his little face crumpled at the news she'd be missing something else – just for a split second, before he was able to school it smooth again.

Olivia sighs. Jet is still so young, and if she's being honest, it's nice to have someone look at her life through such an idealized lens. To feel like she's built both a career and a family unit with impenetrable bricks and strength, when in reality it feels more like a house of cards, one the slightest breeze could knock out from underneath her to leave them both, her and Noah, in the cold.

"Sometimes," she says carefully, "I wonder what my life might be if I spent a little less time at work. If I freed myself up for…other things."

Jet's dark eyebrows raise. "Other things?"

"Yes."

"But…like what? You don't want a relationship, right?"

"Why would you say that?"

"Well, I just figured if you wanted one, you'd be in one with Stabler. He keeps asking you out, right? And you keep turning him down." Her expression suddenly falls. "Oh, shit. Is it just him? You just don't want to date him?"

"Jet, what are you talking about?" Olivia's mind is whirling. "What do you mean, keeps asking me out?"

"Um." She looks horrified now. "Nothing. Just…I heard your Sergeant say something to him during the Sirenko case. Something about the two of you…and Elliot just looked depressed and said of course he wants to, but you've already turned him down twice so he doesn't want to keep bothering you."

Olivia's mouth drops open. "That's why he hasn't asked—?" She cuts herself off, presses her lips together and takes a deep breath through her nose. "He was grieving—and then undercover—" She shakes her head in irritation. "Oh, he is unbelievable."

There's a small grin on Jet's face now. "Oh. I see. So you've been waiting for him to ask again?"

Olivia narrows her eyes. "No. No! I just—" She groans inwardly. She'd told him to wait. Not to wait forever.

Jet chuckles. "You could always ask him, you know." She cocks an eyebrow. "Women do it all the time now."

"Yes, Jet, thank you. I'm aware of the modern ways." Olivia pauses, chewing her lip thoughtfully. "He really said that?"

"Hand on heart," Jet mutters, moving her right hand to her chest. "I figured you were turning him down because you weren't interested. I mean, I'd get it if you weren't. He's a grumpy bastard, and his arms are ridiculous, and now he's shaved his head he kinda looks like a thumb—"

"Wanna tell me what you really think, Detective?" Elliot's voice rumbles from behind Olivia, and Jet's eyes widen and dart over to him.

There's a very brief hesitation, then Jet says smoothly, "We were talking about Detective Shaw. He has a thumb-like appearance. Interesting you think I meant you, though. Could it be you're finally recognizing that your arms have crossed over into those of a cartoon superhero?"

"Your haircut makes you look like a pixie from a Disney movie, so you're one to talk." He grins and tosses his jacket onto his desk, turning his attention to Olivia. His eyes soften. "Hey. What are you doing here?"

Olivia holds up her folder. "Cyber porn ring. Jet was just helping me out with an IP address."

Elliot nods. "She's good like that."

"Sure is." Olivia shifts off Jet's desk, giving the younger woman a smile. "Thanks, Jet."

"Welcome."

With a deep breath, she turns back to Elliot. "Got a sec?"

"Uh, sure." He gets up from the seat he'd just taken, swinging his leg easily over his desk chair and making his jeans draw tight across his ass. Olivia tries, in vain, not to look. She leads him a few steps away, out of earshot of Jet and the other detectives. He folds his arms across his impressive chest. "Everything okay?"

"Fine. Um." She shifts her feet nervously. He's wearing that blue denim button-down, the one that makes his eyes almost glow, and she can never concentrate properly when she sees him in it. "What are you doing later?"

"Later?"

"Yes. Later."

His mouth twitches. "Like, later as in this afternoon? Or later as in tonight?"

Olivia hesitates briefly. "Tonight."

He nods. "Tonight. Well, since my mother is living with my daughter and my son has left for college, I am doing…nothing."

Olivia chews her lip. "Nothing?"

"Nothing." His forearms flex, just a little, and she can't stop her gaze from dropping to them. "Absolutely nothing. In my empty apartment."

She gives a brief nod. "I see."

When she looks back at his face, his familiar Stabler grin is in full force. "Olivia?"

"Hmmm?"

"Would you like to come over for dinner tonight?"

She takes a deep breath – noting that his eyes ever-so-briefly drop to her own chest as she does, nice to see she's not the only one who can't help ogling – and says, "Yes. I would."

~oOo~

Jet watches from behind her hair. God, they're so awkward. Olivia is practically dancing a jig, she can't keep still, and Stabler has the expression of a kid who just opened a puppy on Christmas morning but is trying not to let his parents see how excited he is.

They look like a pair of teenagers trying to ask one another to prom, not two people in their fifties – yes, she knew Olivia was in her fifties, of course she did, but it cost nothing to flatter – who each knew enough about the other to write a damn book. Finally – finally – one of them manages to spit it out, and then they are standing there in the middle of the OCCB squad room, grinning like Cheshire cats, and Jet has to look away lest she gag on the syrupy cuteness of it all.

Love after fifty. Who knew?

At her elbow, her phone buzzes. He's calling again.

Jet sighs. She steals another glance over her shoulder, sees Stabler tentatively reach out and graze the back of Olivia's hand with her fingertips. Sees the almost unconscious way Olivia turns her palm toward him, links her fingers with his.

God damn it.

Jet lets out a disgruntled snort and grabs her phone, swiping at the screen.

"Hello, Adam," she says.


Note: The author of this SVU: Fall in Love story will be revealed in November