Summary: Amanda Rollins suggested that Olivia get a hotel room with Elliot to "get it out of her system." There are a few ways that could go. Here's one take on it…

Disclaimer: Dick Wolf owns everything; I just take the characters out and play with them once in a while.

Chapter 1 - Elliot

"Red wine? You've always been more of the beer type," he said, taking a seat on the stool opposite her at the high top table she had selected.

"Uh…yeah. I've always liked wine better than beer. You just always did the ordering when we went out for drinks." Her palms were sweaty, and she got that fluttery feeling in the pit of her stomach. She hadn't told him why she asked him here tonight, to this bar, on the ground floor of a hotel far enough of the beaten path that no one would spot them. She didn't tell him about the room key slipped inside her purse, or that her intentions were to end this in that very room. She could walk away. She could have a drink with him, and they could talk like old friends, and she could forget what Rollins had said in her office.

"Olivia, what's going on?" Elliot asked, his blue eyes glinting with concern. Apparently, she wasn't as good at hiding her anxiety as she thought she was, or he just knew he well enough that she couldn't hide from him. 23 years. He had been her other half for 23 years.

Damn Amanda Rollins.

"Nothing," she swallowed hard. "Nothing's wrong. I just…we needed to talk, and we need to do it away from undercover operations and rape cases and court cases and whatever else gets in the way whenever we try to have a real conversation." He nodded.

"I missed you. Every day, for 10 years," he told her.

"Then why did you leave? I called you so many times, and it just always went to voicemail."

"Because." he stopped, not knowing how to move forward with this conversation. He wanted to tell her, NEEDED to tell her, but did he dare?

"Whatever the reason, El, you owe me that, at the very least," she said.

"Ok, ok. Jesus, Olivia, I…after Jenna died, it…hit me harder than any other case has," he started to explain.

"You've had to use your weapon before. What was it about this case?" she asked.

"She was 16. Lizzie and Dickie were…"

"Having their own prom nights," she finished for him.

"Yeah. I don't know, Liv. Don't get me wrong; I loved Kathy, with all my heart. She was the mother of my children. But…she wasn't…you. And when my children were dressed up and going off to their senior proms, I had Jenna in my head. I didn't want to discuss it with Kathy. I just wanted you," he said. His heart hammered in his ears. He had danced around this for a long time, but he had never said it out loud. Tonight was the night. This was it; he needed to know how she felt once and for all.

"…me?" Elliot had no way of knowing her heart was beating just as hard, and she wasn't sure she was ready to hear what he was saying. But, that was the point of this - to get to the heart of the issue and figure out whatever was going on between them.

"Liv, I loved my wife. But I was *in* love with you. And…I think I still am. I went to Italy to forget about you, and to work on my marriage. That's why I couldn't bear to hear your voice. I don't think I could have ever been able to leave if I had," he confessed. Ok, there it was. It was on the table, and the next play was hers.

She sat for a minute, processing his words.

"And now…Kathy's gone."

"Kathy's gone. And I'm still in love with my partner."

"Former partner. And I think…that feeling might go both ways."

"You said you weren't seeing anyone, so…where do we go from here, Liv?"

"I think…" she hesitated. Lindstrom's words tumbled around in her head along with Rollins', "…we go upstairs, and see what happens." She pulled the key out of her purse, and tapped it slightly on the table.

"You got a room?" he asked.

"I did. I'm not saying we need to use it…but I'd rather have the rest of this conversation in private." He nodded in agreement, and they make their way upstairs. Not a word was spoken between them, as each was lost in their own thoughts about the other. She had fantasized about being alone with him like this for 23 years, and he hadn't dared to for fear of what it would do to his home life. And yet…she frequently starred in the dreams he didn't dare share with a soul.

"Olivia, I don't…" he started.

"Oh, come on, Elliot. You don't know what to do with a woman in a hotel room? That's not what I've heard. Flutura, Angela Wheatley, who else, El? You know exactly what to do in this situation," she challenged.

"That was different," he said quickly.

"I don't know, El. Do you not see me as a woman?" Oh, she was getting under his skin now. She knew it, and he knew it.

It happened so fast. One second she was pacing the room, like she used to when they were interrogating a suspect, and the next she was slammed into the wall, and his lips were on hers - hard. His fingers dug into her flesh mercilessly.

No…this wasn't what she wanted. It was too close to-

No. No.

"Stop!" she cried. Instantly he pulled away.

"I thought…you said…" he stammered.

"No, it's fine. I just…maybe not so rough, ok?" She was fighting through the adrenaline now, forcing those memories back into the recesses of her mind where they were safe.

"Ah. Not rough. Ok." He kissed her again, more gentle than before.

Come on, Olivia, get a grip, she chided herself. This was what she had imagined on many dark nights, alone in that same apartment she had been abducted from.

That same apartment she left because she couldn't bear to be there again after what happened. Cassidy had been there. He was the one who held her while she cried, who soothed her when the nightmares woke her every single night, who never pressed her for more than she was ready to talk about. She had wanted it to be Elliot, but it wasn't. He had been gone more than 2 years by that point.

Wait. Ok. His lips were on hers, but now he was too gentle. There wasn't enough passion or, or *need* in it. He probed her mouth with his tongue, but instead of the hot, open mouthed kisses Tucker had given her that went straight to her core, this felt like he was trying to swallow her whole.

But this was Elliot.

This could be fixed.

He couldn't figure out what was going on with her. He had hoped that his galavanting through his grief had earned him a few more experience points in the bedroom, but maybe not. Up until her death, Kathy was the only woman he had ever been with, despite the fact that he pretended she was Olivia more than once. But this just felt weird. She wasn't swooning the way the others had. Why couldn't he figure this out?

He pressed his forehead against hers. "Why is this so awkward?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I don't know. I didn't think…" she trailed off.

"Ok. Let's try again," he said. He swept her up and laid her gently on the bed. He covered her body with his and started kissing along her jawline. She twisted and turned her head, trying to guide him to the spot she knew - thanks to Ed Tucker - would turn her into putty.

"Behind my ear, El," she finally said. He shifted, following her instructions. "A little lower…there! Oh God…there!"

Finally.

Elliot continued to nip and suck at that magic spot, now that he had found it. This was what he had expected from Olivia Benson. She was wriggling under him, clawing at whatever she could reach. She dragged his shirt across his back trying to remove it. He broke contact with her for the split second it took her to pull it over his head before going right back to her.

His hips settled between her now spread legs. She could feel him against her thigh, still fully clothed - both of them - and he was definitely attracted to her. His lips continued their exploration of their newfound treasure and his fingers unbuttoned her blouse, and parted it. He stopped, once the garment was removed to look at her, clad in a lacy black bra, her olive skin flawle-

Wait.

"What's wrong?" she asked lazily, noticing his brow was furrowed as he stared at her. Her stomach and her chest were decorated with scars - some thin and long, others perfect circles. The patterns crisscrossed with others that were a more oblong shape. A few slipped beneath her bra. He traced one of them.

"….what happened?" he asked.

Shit.

She had grown used to it over the years. Brian had rubbed burn cream on them every single night to reduce the scarring as much as possible. Ed had known about whole ordeal before they even slept together that first time. He had read the entire file, seen the photos. She had never needed to explain it to him. But Elliot…

He didn't know…

"Uh…" she pulled a blanket around her, suddenly very aware of how much skin she was bearing. "I was…assaulted. About 2 years after you left. He liked to brand his victims." There. She wasn't ready to talk about this with him just yet, and that surprised her. She figured Elliot would be the one person she could talk about it with, if there was such a person. And now…she felt guarded, and she didn't want to go there. Not while she was trying to have sex, at least.

"Is that…but…Noah is…" he was working out the math in his head. "Liv, is that how you have Noah?"

"No…no no no…oh God, no. Noah is adopted. We found him while working a case, but it had nothing to with what happened to me," she explained. He let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. She never said anything about any of this.

"Did he…did he rape you?" His jaw clenched. Yep, there was the Elliot Stabler she had imagined on that night, the one she wanted to find her in that beach house, and the one who would have snapped Lewis' neck without a second thought.

"I don't really want to talk about this tonight, Elliot. I want this to be about us, not him, or anyone else," she pleaded.

"Please, Liv. You can talk to me. Or at least, you used to be able to. I want to know what happened," he tried again. She closed her eyes and sighed.

"Don't ask me about this. Please, Elliot…" He pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head gently.

"Ok. We don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

"Do you think I'm ugly?" she asked, burying her head in his chest. He tilted her face towards his and wiped away the lone tear that was sliding down her cheek.

"Olivia Benson, nothing in the world could ever make me think you're ugly," he said. She tilted her head to kiss him again, and as soon as his lips met hers…

…she remembered how badly he kissed.

Dammit!

She let the blanket fall away from her as she wrapped her arms around him. She was going to have to teach him how to kiss properly.

He kissed his way down her jaw while tugging at her bra. He fumbled with the clasp a few times before she finally reached behind her back and undid it herself while lying back on the bed. He hadn't been prepared for what Lewis had done to her breasts. The scars were even worse underneath than they were on the rest of her torso. He tried to tease her, but he just…couldn't.

"…why did you stop?" she asked.

"I…the guy that did this, what happened to him?" he asked.

"Jesus, Elliot…this isn't exactly the conversation I want to have at them moment," she retorted.

"I need to know. Because right now, the only thing I can think about is hunting him down and killing him in the slowest, most painful way I can think of," he said. Yeah, she knew that. She knew that during those four days she was held captive by Lewis.

"He'd dead, ok? He's dead, and I'm half naked and this isn't how I thought this would go." She was snapping at him, but she didn't care anymore. "Do you want to fuck me or not?"

He had no idea what was happening here. Of course he wanted that. He's wanted that for years. And now all he had managed to do was piss her off.

"Christ, Liv…of course I do. I just need a minute," he said.

"Just don't think about it. It was one event, and it's over. It's been over for a long time."

"No, I mean…" he gestured vaguely towards his crotch. "I *need* a minute." And she finally realized what he was trying say.

"I think I can help with that," she said, reaching for his pants. She knelt in front of him and took him into her mouth. She had always been good at this, and it didn't take long before he was at full mast once again. He ran a hand through her hair. Kathy had rarely done this for him, and when she did, she didn't seem to enjoy it nearly the way Olivia seemed to. When Olivia Benson did something, she put her entire being into it, and she definitely wanted to do this. As she worked him, she slipped out of her own pants. The sensations shooting through him were absolutely incredible. He had never realized this could feel *this* good. In fact, it was so good, that if he wasn't careful, this was going to backfire on him.

"Uh, Liv…baby, I need you to-" He was too late. She pulled back, stunned that it was over already. "I'm…I'm sorry, Liv. I thought I could…shit."

"No, it's ok," she said quickly. In all honesty, she was ready to be done. It was clear to her now that she wasn't getting off tonight, at least not with him.

"Wait, hop up on the bed. Let me take care of you," he tried, sounding almost desperate. She was already pulling on her clothes, though.

"It's fine, Elliot. Sometimes these things happen," she told him. He watched as she put her clothes back on.

"Wait, don't leave. Please don't leave," he begged.

"Elliot, I'm not in the mood anymore, and I'm not mad. But this…this was good," she told him. The sex was awful, but she knew. She knew, once and for all, that what she had imagined between her and Elliot Stabler was only in her mind. Reality could be so disappointing.

She went home, paid her sitter for the evening, and check on Noah, who was sound asleep. She was still unsatisfied from the day before, but she had been through enough dry spells to know how to take care of herself.

But surprisingly, she didn't want to anymore. She was in the apartment she had gotten with Cassidy, and the last time she was in a hotel had been with him. She had seen a side of him that night that she was sure very, very few ever did, and a smile crept across her face as she remembered.

And this is where I'll leave you for now. Next up - Bensidy!