Summary: Just a short blurb after last night's OC promo. Elliot's propositioned by Tia. What do you think he does? Runs to Liv of course, where she yells at him because these two fools still need to talk.
AN: I'm trying not to speculate about OC the next two weeks and the potential between Elliot and Tia. But that doesn't mean I won't write about it. This is a departure from my normal smutty fics, feel free to read my Kinktober submissions if you need some sexy times in your life.
Thank you for reading. As always, no beta.
"So," she starts over the clink of their beer bottles, "what now?"
"What do you mean, what now?" Elliot asks dully, before he gulps down half his beer, his eyes scanning the dingy bar in the low light. He knows what, he knows exactly what. Tia had always been very clear what she meant. She was like that, blunt and unafraid to ask for exactly what she wants.
They had worked together on a handful of cases in Italy. They shut down a drug trafficking ring and saved several girls from a very horrid fate at the hands of a few pimps. And all the while, she'd always made her interest in him clear, very clear. But as usual, his response was "Thank you, but no thank you. I'm married."
She always laughed it off with a "Well, maybe next time."
It was next time. And this time he wasn't married.
He wasn't really sure what to do.
Sure, he was single. She was attractive. And it had been a long time since he'd had any relations with a woman. After Flutura, he swore off women and casual dating. He'd realized that he was too far out of practice in reading people that he couldn't risk getting into any relationship that would cause more trouble. Plus, he knew what he really wanted: her. Olivia. His Olivia.
His Olivia who was just up the road commanding the 1-6. His Olivia that had once again rode in on a white horse and saved his family again and again in the last two years. His Olivia continually refused his advances to get any closer. Not returning his calls. Turning down his offers for coffee and lunch. Sending Amanda Rollins to call him for help on a case rather than do it herself. His Olivia who was even more beautiful and strong and smart than he remembered.
His Olivia who apparently wanted nothing to do with him. But he wanted everything to do with her.
Now though, he was sitting in a bar getting a drink with an attractive woman who was very interested in going back to his place for the night. No sane, hot-blooded man in his position would turn her down.
She was very pretty and had her hand on his arm, her fingers gently stroking over the soft hair on his forearm. She was offering him nothing more than a good time. He knows he'd be a fool to tell her no.
"You know what, El," she answered him, cocking her head. "You're not married anymore. The case is over. What's stopping you now?"
He takes another drink.
Her eyes furrow at him.
"Were you always just playing me before? Do you not find me attractive?"
"No, you are very attractive," he assures her, "It's just…" he trails off, not really sure what he wants to tell her. I'm interested but I can't. I'm not married but I want someone else. I think having sex with you, while it sounds really good, will hurt that possibility–even though the other woman hasn't talked to me in weeks and apparently wants nothing to do with me. It all sounded too pathetic.
"It's what? I'm not asking for a relationship. I'm only in the U.S. for a few more days. I just want to explore," her fingers crawl up his arm and then scratch over his chest, "this undeniable chemistry."
Despite his best effort, his body reacts to her touch. He exhales roughly through his nose and his eyes close briefly. He covers her hand with his as he realizes how long it's been and how badly his body aches for this kind of touch. He needs this, her, something simple and something that feels good. He just wants to feel good, even if it's shallow and temporary.
Elliot nods and stands, reaching for his wallet. He tosses a $10 on the bar.
"Come on then."
She grins and stands from the barstool, letting him pull her to the entrance of the bar.
As they stand on the sidewalk he pulls out his phone to call an Uber and she wraps her arms around his torso, leaning in to kiss his neck.
He stops what he's doing and enjoys her small kisses and the feeling of her arms around him, her breasts pressed against his body. God, this is what I need. She feels so good and it's been ages.
"You are so strong," she coos in his ear, "I can't wait to unwrap you."
His heart starts to beat faster but it's not due to arousal. Something else is rushing through his veins. Not fear. Anxiety maybe? It has been a long time.
You can do this. He thinks to himself. You know how to do this.
No, it's not that.
Tia lifts her hand and taps on his phone and reminds him of his task "Car. You need to call a car."
It's not anxiety that is balling in his stomach. It's guilt. He can't quite place it; figure out why it's there. But all of this feels wrong. Her arms feel wrong, she smells wrong, she is wrong.
Elliot thinks maybe the feeling is related to his marriage, so he tries to encourage himself. You can do this. You aren't married any more. You are not cheating on Kathy. And no one has to know.
But it's not that either.
"Elliot?" Tia asks, separating herself from his body. "Is everything alright?"
No. It's not alright.
"El, baby, call the car."
I can't do this.
He shakes his head and pushes her back with his hands on his shoulders. "I'm sorry. I can't. I just…I can't."
"What is this? What do you mean you can't?"
"I'm sorry," he repeats and pulls up his phone, "I'll call you an Uber to take you back to your hotel. I just can't do this."
"I don't understand," she takes a few steps back and covers herself with arms, "I thought you wanted this, me."
"I do, I just…No, I can't."
"What is it? Is there someone else?"
He doesn't answer her but clicks away on his phone. "I've called you a car. They will be here in a minute. I'm sorry. It's been wonderful to work with you again, but I need to go."
Tia eyes him incredulously, not used to being rejected. But the car pulls up sooner than anticipated and Elliot opens the door. "Here, please get in."
She shakes her head in disbelief and blinks but gets in the car. "If you change your mind, you know where to find me."
"Good night Tia," is all he says before he closes the door.
He waits until he sees the tail lights turn the corner before he calls a second Uber.
He doesn't care that it's late and that he'll be unannounced. He doesn't care that he will probably piss her off. He expects a slap to the face, maybe the door slammed in his face. But he's done waiting. He needs answers.
He's at her apartment building in no time and he flashes his badge to get past the front desk and on to the elevators.
Elliot lifts his hand to pound on her front door but thinks better of it at the last second remembering that Noah is probably home and in bed.
He pulls out his phone and calls her number. It rings. He can hear it through the door but goes to voicemail. He calls again. It goes to voicemail again; quicker this time. She's rejecting his call, again.
He texts her: Answer your damn phone. I'm outside your front door and I'll wait here all night.
It's aggressive, he knows. Probably uncalled for but he doesn't care.
He hears her phone chime with the text message through the door, some shuffling, maybe a glass being set down, then the door opens.
Before she can get a word out, he nearly shouts, "I just turned down a night with a gorgeous woman, who wanted me," his finger digs into his chest before pointing at her, "and it's your fault!"
Olivia jaw drops surprised not only by his angry tone but the admission. He what?
"Shhhh, you'll wake up everyone on this floor," she reprimands him before pulling him by his bicep into her apartment and shutting and locking the door. Turning back to him she asks, "Do you want to try that again, more quietly?"
His chest is heaving but he takes note of the look on her face. She's angry. And she's not going to tolerate his anger right now or his lack of explanation for showing up on her doorstep after 11:00 p.m. and ranting about another woman.
He's quieter when he answers, but no less insistent. "I'm fed up with this Liv," he waves his hand between them. "I need to know what we are doing. I can't keep existing in this limbo."
"I don't know what you mean," she deflects, pulling her long cardigan around her body, shielding herself from him. "There is nothing between us. You are free to, what was it? 'Spend the night with any gorgeous woman you want,'" she answers snidely.
He tosses his hands up in frustration. "Ugh! I don't want gorgeous women, I want you."
She scoffs, turning her back to him and reaching for the wine glass on her coffee table.
"That's not what I meant. You are gorgeous. You are the gorgeous woman that I want, but you are keeping me at arm's length. I don't know what I need to do."
"Elliot–" she tries to interrupt before he goes on a full rant, her back still to him.
"No, don't 'Elliot' me! I'm dying over here, I need answers," he demands.
At this she whips around, anger flashing across her face. "You're dying? You are the one who is suffering here? Why? Because you aren't sure if you can go fucking your way around the city? You are free to do what–who–you want!"
"Goddamnit Liv! I don't want to do any of that." This is not going how he had planned, though that was probably his fault given his temper tantrum at her door.
"You are the one who left! You were the one who was married and even when you weren't, you were the one who didn't want me. You don't get to march in here late at night and demand answers. I want answers! I've wanted answers for years, but you were gone! You owe me answers!"
"Liv…"
"No! You want to know where we stand? Well, so do I!" Olivia's voice raises, and she sets her glass down before she spills wine on the floor. "I don't have any answers. I don't know what I want. I don't know what you want. Goddamnit El, I don't ever know where you stand or what you want. You are here one second demanding my time and attention and then you ghost me. You are the one who is forcing us to be in limbo."
Elliot sees tears from anger and desperation forming in eyes. "Liv," he calls softly, "You're right. Let's sit," he reaches for her, but she shrugs out of his grasp.
She sits on the couch and he takes the chair.
"Olivia, I'm sorry. God, I am so sorry."
She scoffs. "Do you even know what you are apologizing for?"
"Everything. For leaving; for not telling you; for never calling. For not being here when you needed me; for not being here to celebrate the big moments in your life. For showing up unexpectedly and being all over the place."
"That's a start," she sniffles.
He grins at her before resting his head in his hands, his elbows on his knees as he leans forward. "I didn't mean to come over here and yell at you. I just…it's been a weird night–"
"Oh yea, being propositioned by a gorgeous woman must be so hard for you."
He knows he deserves her sarcasm, every bit of anger she has, but he also knows he just needs to be honest. He can't match her frustration. "It is when I feel like I'm cheating on you."
Olivia turns her head to look at him.
"I know, I know," he meets her eyes, "We aren't together, but damn Liv, I thought I've been pretty clear here. I don't know how many more ways I can ask you out and be rejected."
"Oh, don't be so pathetic. I've told you no two, maybe three times. Try being rejected for years."
"Liv…" he tries to explain.
"No! No. You do not get to blame me for protecting myself, for protecting Noah."
"I would never do anything to hurt you or your son," he grits out, frustrated by even the thought. She has to know that he'd do anything to protect her boy in the other room.
"That's just it, El. You already have." She takes in a deep breath, calming herself to go on. She's thought long and hard about everything she'd wanted to say to him, but she wasn't prepared to do it all tonight. "You come back unannounced with the plan to return to Italy…with your wife, right?"
He nods.
"Then you give me this letter. One that tells me that we were never more than just partners, that it was all in my head. Except for that last line. Then you show up here drugged up, which I've already told you was terrifying for me. You've gone undercover, fucked around with suspects' wives…wivessss…plural, Elliot. And the only thing you've asked about my life is how many men I've been with. You want to sit there and tell me that I'm being the difficult one? If that's really how you see this, then you can just leave." She points to the front door.
He follows her finger then shakes his head as he looks back to her. "I don't want to leave. I want to figure this out."
"There is too much to sort through for one night."
"Then I want to start."
"Fine, then start," she challenges him, "Where do you want to start?"
He shrugs, "I don't know."
"Then you can go home. You can try to put this on me all you want, blame me for your limp dick, but this is on you. You are the one who wants more, you have to figure this out."
"Don't you, though? Don't you want more, too? I'm not crazy. I know I'm not the only one who feels this," he asks softly, almost desperately. He has to know that she is actually in this too.
Olivia sighs, her shoulders sag, "Of course I do, El. I've wanted it for years. But I've learned to live without it, without you. I am happy, and I can continue to be happy never having this," she waves her hand between them.
"I don't know if I can."
"Then what are you going to do about it?"
"Everything. Whatever needs to be done. Whatever it takes. I need you to know, this is what I want. Us."
"It's nice to hear that, but it's not going to happen tonight. I'm tired and frustrated."
He nods, knowing that she's right. They aren't going to resolve anything now. He's not done this the right way. But he can't leave yet either, not without knowing that it's not all going to end here. "I don't want to leave like this, nothing is resolved. I'm afraid that if I walk out that door, I won't hear from you again. That you won't answer my calls."
She swallows, acknowledging that's a realistic demand for him. She has rejected more of his calls than she's answered in the last two months. But she needed time. After her sessions with Dr. Lindstrom discussing her love life and potential relationship with Elliot, she'd needed time to really think. And she couldn't do that with him constantly in her ear.
"Are you serious about this El? About sitting down and sorting through all of this?"
He nods, "Yes, absolutely."
"Not just these last couple of years, but all of it. Our partnership and your absence…all of it."
He stands from his chair and approaches her on the couch with his hands outstretched. She takes his hands and lets him pull her up.
"Olivia, I'm ready to sort through it all. I know I have a lot of explaining and apologizing. But I want to be clear: I want you; I want us; and I'm ready to do whatever it takes to make that happen."
She nods and bites on her bottom lip. "Okay then. I promise that I will answer the next time you call."
"Thank you, that's all I need right now."
"It's late. You need to go."
"Okay, I'm going," he agrees and drops her hands. He dips down and kisses her cheek, quickly before she can stop him, and heads to the door. "I'm sorry that I came barging in here so late."
"It's okay, El," she says as she follows him to her entryway, "Just go. We will talk more about this later."
He grins briefly before stepping out in the hallway and letting her shut the door.
Olivia leans back against the door, taking stock of what just happened. But before she can wrap her head around it all, her phone rings. She walks to the coffee table to grab it and answers, "What now?"
"Nothing, just making sure you were telling the truth. I'll call you tomorrow."
She smiles. "Good night El."
"'Night Liv. Talk to you soon."
