TITLE: Revelations
AUTHOR: UnicornGoddess
SPOILERS: none
RATING: PG-13
CATEGORY: Olivia/Elliot friendship
ARCHIVE: SVU fic archive. Anyone else wants it, just ask.
SUMMARY: Olivia and Elliot on a boring stakeout with nothing to do but talk...goofy fluff. Absolutely nothing of substance. You've been warned!
DISCLAIMER: They're not mine, no money was made.
AUTHORS NOTES: This is my first SVU fanfic, and my first fanfic ever (well, in a looong time anyway), so please be kind! Also, a lot of this stuff I just made up, but I tried to stick to the characters and the canon whenever possible.
FEEDBACK: Yes! Please tell me what you think...send to aivilosvu@hotmail.com. Flames must be censored.
**********
It was another cold night in the city of New York, and Olivia and Elliot were on a stakeout in front of a rape suspect's house.
Olivia sighed. "Do you think this guy's ever gonna come back?," she asked wearily.
"Nah. He's probably long gone by now."
"So...tell me again why we're sitting here?"
Elliot just shrugged. "Hey 'Liv, what did you do before you were a cop?"
"Huh? What do you mean?," Olivia asked, confused at the change in conversation.
"What did you do for a living before you were a cop?," Eliott repeated.
"Um, mostly just part-time jobs...I was a desk clerk in a hospital for a while. I did some telemarketing, too. You?"
"My very first job was at Burger King...after that I finished high school, got married, went to college, and became a cop." He paused, grinning. "My life story in a nutshell."
"Oh, there's got to be more to it than that. What was your major in college?," Olivia inquired.
"Public policy. I knew as soon as I graduated high school that I wanted to be a cop. What about you, what did you major in?"
Olivia smiled. "If I tell you, will you promise not to laugh?"
"Of course I won't laugh. Why would I laugh?"
"Well, I'm willing to bet most cops don't have a bachelor's degree in dance, with a minor in music," Olivia confided. "By the way, if that gets out, I swear to God I'll kick your ass."
Elliot gave her a curious look. "I promise I won't tell..but *dance*? Doesn't seem like you. What kind of dance?"
"The technical term for it is 'modern interpretive dance', but I always just skipped the formal crap and called it hip hop."
Elliot tried but failed to stifle a snicker. "Hey, you promised you wouldn't laugh!," Olivia cried, swatting him over the head with some paperwork.
"Sorry, I just couldn't help it. Seriously though, dance is good. It's good exercise."
"Uh huh. When was the last time you did hip hop?," Olivia asked, sceptical. When Elliot didn't answer, she said, "I thought so. Well, now that I've told you one of my secrets, you have to tell me one of yours."
"Oh really? Is that how this works?," Elliot joked. "Okay, lemme think...did I tell you I used to work at Burger King?," he asked, obviously still joking.
"Ha ha...yes, you did. Come on, I'm waiting."
"Why do you want to know so bad?"
"Two reasons. One, I'm curious. Two, I may want to blackmail you someday, and I need material," Olivia said, smiling.
Elliot rolled his eyes. "Alright, alright. I have a tattoo."
"Yeah, I know. It's on your upper arm, I've seen it."
"No, I have another one. It's a green butterfly. Please don't laugh."
Olivia snickered. "A butterfly? Isn't that kind of...girly? Seriously, where is it? I wanna see it."
"Oh no. I'm not telling you where it is, and you are definitely not gonna see it."
"Aww, why not?," Olivia asked, pretending to pout. "Ya chicken?"
"Only two people have seen that tattoo...well, three if you count the guy in the tattoo parlor. One, me. Two, my wife. And that's all I'm gonna tell you.
Ah, it's on your ass, huh? Does it have Kathy's initials in it?
None of your damn business.
Just then Olivia's cell phone rang. Benson. Okay, thanks. She turned to her partner and said, Alright, that was Munch. Our shift's over, so he's on his way and we can go home.
Elliot started the car and headed toward Olivia's house. Certainly was an interesting stakeout, though, wasn't it?, he asked.
Yeah, even if we didn't catch the guy, Olivia agreed.
THE END
