Olivia should be exhausted.
She's spent the last seven hours in and out of interrogation, finally securing the suspect's confession a few minutes before sunrise. Normally, she needs a few cups of coffee to get through a night like this, but this time, she's been running on pure adrenaline, her thoughts lingering on her last exchange with Elliot.
It was a date.
The moment the words had left her fingers, she had felt something shift, a sudden unwinding of all the tensions that had twisted within and around them for so many years. She had shaken her head, amused by the simplicity of it all, the relief she had found in her own confirmation. The easy breath that filled her lungs. The quiet love she had held forever making its first sound.
His reply had caught her—and Muncy—off guard.
The young detective had glanced over at her Captain's phone as a voice note popped up on the screen. She had noticed the contact photo at the top of the message, a close shot of the handsome man who had just left the squadroom, and under it, the name—
Stabler
Of course, Muncy had thought, connecting the dots. Elliot Stabler.
She had never met him but had heard bits and pieces—Benson's former partner working at OCCB, a key witness in the upcoming Brotherhood trial, and as Fin seemed to suggest, someone special to Olivia.
Muncy had watched Olivia's expression evolve, her finger hovering over the play button, surprise giving way to amusement and finally, temptation. Calculating the risk, Muncy had adjusted the collar on the latest addition to her blazer collection before finally blurting out—
"Need some privacy, Captain?"
Olivia had frozen in place, feigning annoyance as she tried her hardest to restrain a smile.
"Really, Muncy?"
"I'm just saying!" her detective had laughed, moving toward the interrogation room door. "Don't want to intrude on any, uh, conversations, so I—"
"Detective?" Olivia had started, smirking as she turned her attention to the two-way mirror. "Quit while you're ahead."
But as soon as Muncy had made her way inside, taking her seat next to Velasco, Olivia had raised her phone and pressed the button, Elliot's low whisper vibrating in her ear—
"I thought so…" She hadn't needed to see him to know that he had been wearing a shit-eating grin. "So when's our second?"
She had tried her best to push the question out of her head during the suspect's interview, but now, having wrapped up and sent him on his way to Central Booking, it's all she can hear.
It's all she can see.
Elliot—no longer toeing the delicate line of their friendship—his hand in hers as they jump right over it and into each other's depths.
Elliot Stabler, actually dating her.
A few times, over the summer, she had wondered what that would look like, imagining that the past would prove to be too much for them and they would find themselves scraping against their own broken edges, tripping over all the unspoken cracks.
On her way back to her office, though, she catches her reflection in the mirror again—her eyes brighter than usual, even after a sleepless night. She barely recognizes it, the current of excitement that's slowly rolling through her, anticipating the prospect of something new.
Something good.
She's always been wary of her joy, heeding Icarus' example, afraid that she, too, will inevitably fall from her flight.
But today, walking into her office, a picture forms in her mind and she invites it to stay.
She sees Elliot, holding her, touching her, centering her in his orbit. And she sees herself, warm and glowing, life radiating from within.
Nearing her desk, she decides she'll reach for the sun; even better, she'll let herself become it.
At that moment, she sees it—a light blue sweater folded neatly and placed at the corner of her desk. She traces the fabric with her fingers before picking it up to examine it; holding it close, she notices the faint scent of something clean and crisp and familiar. Still, she's perplexed.
Just then, she hears Fin approaching.
"Cap, I—"
He steps into her office and she quickly turns, holding the sweater out in front of her, evidence of a visitor.
"Fin, do you know who—"
"Oh yeah," he chuckles, leaning against the door frame, casting a knowing look in her direction. "Forgot to mention, your boyfriend dropped it off around 2 this morning."
Before she can catch herself, his name jumps out of her mouth.
"Elliot?"
Shit.
"Well, if that isn't a confirmation," he laughs, shaking his head, "then I don't know what is."
"Fin, I didn't mean—"
"Liv, listen," he starts, taking a seat in front of her. "That man drove home to Long Island City, folded up his nicest sweater, and hauled his ass back to Manhattan just so you wouldn't be cold." He leans in, his voice low. "And trust me, I never thought I'd be saying this but…but if he's not your boyfriend yet…maybe he ought to be."
Olivia feels her defenses collapsing. Normally, she'd roll her eyes and change the subject, or freeze like a deer in headlights before summoning a few sarcastic words. This time, it's different; she finds the Sergeant's eyes and her walls come down.
"We're working on it, Fin," she says, vulnerability rising. "We're…getting there. I think."
"I think so, too," he replies sincerely, giving her hand a squeeze before making his way back to the door. "You heading out?"
"Yeah, I should have enough time to catch Noah before Martha brings him to school. Thanks for holding down the fort."
"Take it easy, Liv," he responds. "And I'm not telling you what to do, but you might want to stop at Stabler's afterward. A little birdie told me he's taking today off. You know, if you wanted to see him."
"And the little birdie's name?" she asks, finally slipping her arms into the soft, blue sweater.
"Actually, I was mistaken. More like a big, bald birdie with a Marines tattoo."