4

"Is that the way we stand?

Were you lying all the time?

Was it just a game to you?" - The Cranberries, Linger

Every time they have a big bust at work, when all the hard work pays off and everyone is expecting a little bit of a break, the shit always hits the fan. Elliot knows this. He fucking warns the newbies about it. It's part of police work - things never go wrong when it seems like they will, when everyone is prepared for it, things go wrong when they're completely unexpected and no one can think straight. And after having spent all of Christmas Eve with a happy, stupid grin on his face, he knows it's coming.

So when the DA and six different levels of the brass start throwing new work at them from a case they closed four cases ago, he's not surprised. Pissed the fuck off, but not surprised. He'd been planning on coming back from Maureen's the day after Christmas and taking the rest of his vacation week to spend with Olivia and Noah because she said she loves him. She actually said it. To him. When she knew he would hear her. He can barely wrap his head around it.

But Bell is on the phone on Christmas night, telling him he has to cut his vacation short and she can give him until morning, but then he needs to be back, and he's so crushed he wants to cry and instead tells her he's never talking to her again on Christmas because she always ruins his holiday and he's grumbling through packing and explaining to the family that expects no better the next day because it's not just his holiday that's being ruined, but theirs and Olivia's too because even though she didn't know he was planning on coming home early, he knows it would have made her happy.

He calls her on the ride, letting her voice calm him as he drives, and he finds he's smiling again despite his bad mood because she's talking about how excited Noah is about his new computer and this software that cost a ridiculous amount of money and how everything is downloaded now so there's not even anything to wrap which is disappointing for something that costs several hundred dollars and all the while she's talking, he's imagining sitting there with her on the couch with a throw blanket over them so Noah can't see they're holding hands while they're sipping hot chocolate out of mugs with their other hands and they're enjoying their Christmas while he's enjoying his. And then he's remembering that she loves him and so maybe the blanket is just to keep them warm and they can hold hands in front of Noah because they fucking love each other and they earned the right to not sneak around to be together because they're adults and this is what they want and there's nothing wrong with them finally fucking having it.

He knows he needs to rein in his thoughts when he starts wondering if they're going to be living together by next Christmas because Eli is already looking at summer jobs and talking about moving off campus and staying in LA for the summer and Bernie is happy as a damn clam living with Kathleen and it's just him now in an enormous apartment that feels empty most of the time and it has never really felt like home to him anyway. He arrives at work with a promise to Olivia that he will find some break to come see her over the next week because he simply cannot go a whole week without seeing her, especially not now that he's desperate to look her in the eye when she says "I love you."

He's damn near ready to quit a week later. Not only has he been working his ass off on a case that's already fucking closed in his book, but he hasn't made it home long enough to shower in four days and of course Olivia is back at work and dealing with her own job shit and he's fucking furious that he hasn't seen her. He's talked to her, but it's not the same, it's not enough, not anymore, never again. He needs to see her, to hold her, to kiss her, to make love to her, to tell her he doesn't want to wait another week or month or year to move in with her because on those shitty nights when he has less than two hours to bathe and change clothes, he wants the option of kissing her after he brushes his teeth and before he goes back to work.

The case appears to be back in the box with the DA and the mayor off their backs and he calls Olivia to frankly ask how soon he can see her. He can hear the hesitance in her voice, the way she doesn't want to let him down, but she's explaining that she has gotten roped into a meeting with the mayor's office herself and he's mad that they can't catch a break and he's thinking about calling the mayor and telling him he's going to vote for anyone else at the next election if he doesn't get to see Olivia soon.

And somehow it's the middle of January with a steady blanket of snow falling over the city before he has a chance to see her again. Noah is sick and Olivia is dealing with a media circus involving a serial rapist and Noah's babysitting service has instituted a no-sick-day policy after six of their staff members caught the flu from the same family and so she's desperate and she feels bad asking if he can leave work early but Noah cannot stay passed out on the couch in her office for much longer and she absolutely cannot leave work and she says Elliot is the only person she can think of to call that she'll trust with her sick child when she can't be there to take care of the boy herself and Elliot is happy to agree even if he has to tell Bell he's got a family emergency because Noah and Liv are his family.

It's been three weeks, two holidays, and a first time I love you since he's seen her and he's well aware of all the faces turning to stare when he walks into a meeting that encompasses the entire department and Olivia has to excuse herself while McGrath is talking to show Elliot into her office where Noah is whimpering on the couch over how much his throat hurts. Elliot is desperate to kiss her or hug her or even grip her hand for a damn second, but he can't, hell, he can't even say anything much because he's sure one of the people blatantly staring at Olivia actually entrusting Noah to his care can read lips. So he tries to remain professional and tell her he loves her and he misses her with a glance and she smiles and he thinks she's returning the sentiment, but she's going over details of Noah's antibiotics and his asthma inhaler and the schedule for his Tylenol and she's writing down her alarm code and pulling her key off her ring and giving him the remote for the parking garage under her building and it's not nearly long enough or at all what he wanted, but at least he's gotten to see her for the first time in almost a month and he knows it's an incredible compliment from both Olivia and Noah when she lets him scoop the sick boy from the couch and Noah wraps his arms and legs around Elliot and when Olivia pats Noah's back and says "see you when I get home, love you" Elliot tells himself she's talking to both of them.

He sees the way Fin is grinning and Amanda is shocked and other people he doesn't know are watching as he carts their Captain's most precious cargo out of the room and he can't help but feel pride in having re-earned her trust.

She texts him periodically through the rest of the day and into the evening to check on Noah and he knows she's just in protective mom mode and he can't wait until she gets home and sees the boy is as fine as he can be with strep throat and he expects she'll be able to focus on something else once she's there and she can see with her own eyes that Noah will survive, even if he deserves an award for his dramatic bent.

Noah is sound asleep when Olivia knocks at midnight, having given Elliot her key, and he wants to kiss her as soon as he opens the door and sees her face, but she's tired and grumpy and sleep deprived and worried about her son and so Elliot barely gets a "hi" out of her before she's in Noah's room and insisting on re-checking his temperature even though Elliot has kept a detailed log in a notebook on the nightstand and had just recorded the last check less than an hour earlier. Once she's satisfied that nothing substantially negative has occurred with the boy's health, she ducks into the bathroom to take a shower and Elliot sits down on the couch to wait for her because he's not sure if he's supposed to stay. She hasn't mentioned work so he doesn't know if she's going to be able to take the next day off to stay with Noah or if she'll need Elliot to watch him again and if Elliot is due to return in a few hours, he's sure as hell not driving almost an hour home only to turn around and come back and he doesn't want to leave anyway.

It feels different now, somehow, maybe because Olivia is clearly not in the mood for anything physical and honestly, he's too tired himself, and it seems much more domestic than it ever has and he's truly looking forward to kissing her good night and holding her in his arms as they fall asleep and he wonders if, provided Noah is feeling better, the morning might be the right time for him to mention that they've been together-ish for eight months and even if they can't ever make it out anywhere for a date they're still clearly something to each other and he'd like to know what that something is or at least what she thinks it is since they've both said they love each other and that seems like it ought to count for something.

He's more than a little surprised when she appears next to the couch in her pajamas, holding a blanket and a pillow out for him and he's just staring at her and thinking what the actual fuck so hard he's pretty damn sure it's written across his face.

"Noah gets into bed with me sometimes when he doesn't feel good, so," she trails off and averts her eyes and he really, really wants to have it out with her right now.

Eight months. They've been whatevering for eight months and the boy is almost ten years old now so he's perfectly capable of understanding that adults have different sorts of friends than kids do and he's trying to reconcile this woman who's afraid to let her son see them together with the woman who said she loved him and didn't want to hang up the phone because he was too far away and it's not working because they are clearly not the same woman.

It's not the first time he's gotten the distinct impression that she's embarrassed to be with him. He's thought it every time she has gotten called away because eight months is a long time and she never gets called away when she shows up at his place with takeout so why is it only when they're going out somewhere public, and yeah, he got called away from their last attempt at a date, but that was only one time in the whole eight months and he's not a bit ashamed of being with her and as soon as they talk, he'll be shouting it from the rooftops and telling his boss and his coworkers and his mother and his kids and random strangers walking down the street.

It occurs to him that maybe all of this has just been about sex for her, maybe she doesn't really love him, maybe she's just using him, because she can't seem to go anywhere with him and times like tonight when sex is off the table she doesn't have anything to say. He's so bothered by the thought that he spends hours staring at the ceiling and feeling like his fucking heart is broken and wondering if it's worth the pain to be with the woman he loves if a secret physical relationship is all she is willing to offer.

Noah comes padding into the living room around three, making no noise except for the groan when he swallows, no sign of the labored breathing Olivia had warned him to look out for, no hint of the asthma that tends to flare up when Noah is sick. "Elliot, are you awake?"

"Yeah, buddy, what's up? Are you ok?" He's sitting up and pushing the blanket off and wondering why Noah is coming to him and not his mom.

"My throat hurts." He's sniffling and his chin is trembling and Elliot's heart breaks for the boy.

"Come here." He opens up his arms for Noah to climb into and then carries him to the kitchen. "How about a popsicle?"

Noah sniffles and nods, his head leaning on Elliot's shoulder in a way that makes him ache for when his kids were little. While Noah is having his popsicle, Elliot uses his hand to determine to the best of his unscientific ability that his fever is no worse than it had been. Noah eventually moves into the chair next to him, his groan returning when he yawns.

"Do you want to go back to sleep or do you want to wake your mom?"

Noah looks up in surprise. "Mom's here?"

"Yeah, she woke you up when she got home."

"I don't remember." Noah shrugs and finishes the last melting clump of popsicle that has fallen into his hand. "I can go back to sleep. I don't want to wake her." He drops his popsicle stick in the trash and rinses off his hands without being asked. But when he turns back toward Elliot, his eyes are narrowed and his face is drawn in contemplation and he's been on the receiving end of that expression from a Benson many, many times and it makes him nervous. "You and my mom are friends, right?"

Elliot's stomach drops clear through to his feet. He hasn't even had this conversation with Olivia and he's really not sure what the actual fuck is going on anymore and he's absolutely unprepared to discuss it with her son. "Yeah, we've been friends for a long time." They've been a lot of things for a long time, but he's honestly not sure they've ever been friends, not really. Still, it's a semantic argument he's not about to have with her son.

Noah nods thoughtfully. "When I was little I used to think you were my dad."

Elliot chokes on air suddenly, something between a snort and a laugh caught in his throat. Finally he manages to breathe while Noah continues to study him. "Why would you think that?" He's truly confused because he's only met the child a handful of times and only in the last year and though Noah's father has never come up between him and Olivia, he would have assumed Noah at least knew who the man was.

"Mom used to have a picture of you and her and you looked happy." Then he shrugs at nothing in particular. "I asked her once if you were my dad and she got upset and then she put the picture away in a box in the closet. It's still in there, but I don't think she knows I know."

Elliot is trying to figure out what to say and he's trying to swallow back the lump in his throat that formed in his throat at the idea of her keeping a picture of him around for years after he'd fucking abandoned her and he can't imagine how much it must have hurt to have her child ask if he was his father and then to have the whole thing come back up when Donnelly and the Brotherhood made the same suggestion. He bites his lip and shakes his head, wishing with everything in his soul that he could have a time machine to go back and make it so he is Noah's father and he thinks maybe in that parallel universe he is Noah's father. "I'm not your dad, Noah."

The boy nods. "I know that now. I said when I was little." He grins like he thinks Elliot is an idiot and Elliot can't help but agree with the assessment. "I was adopted."

His heart stops at the statement, as it rolls through his head how much she'd wanted a child and how devastated she had been when she wasn't originally able to adopt and he desperately wishes he'd been there to help her through what had to be terribly nerve-racking times when she was going through the process to claim Noah as her own.

He knows he should say something because Noah is clearly well aware and comfortable with this information, but it's a lot for Elliot to process and he can't find his voice and he won't be able to explain how much it means to him that Olivia's dream of becoming a mother came true, no matter how it came about and then he's wondering why he has to hear this from Noah rather than Olivia herself and maybe it's because she doesn't want him to know and maybe she'll trust him to protect a sick child when she's desperate, but she doesn't really trust him after all and the idea takes his breath away again.

Before he can find words, Noah fills the silence with his chatter about his new computer and a routine he's learning in his dance class and how he'd tried sausage on pizza at his friend's birthday party and really likes it even though his mom thinks it's disgusting and Elliot is truly grateful for the child's gift of gab because it buys him some time to pull himself together.

"So since you're my mom's friend, maybe we can be friends too?"

"Sure, I'd like that." Elliot is once again moved to tears. He wants to be this child's friend more than he wants to breathe, but he's not sure Olivia is on the same page and he's very afraid that he's going to wind up letting this kid down through no fault of his own.

"Will you tuck me in?" Elliot is surprised when the boy lifts his arms to be carried again, but he chalks it up to being a sick kid in the middle of the night and happily reaches out to hold him.

Noah has just settled back into Elliot's arms when he laughs suddenly. "Mom said I was too big to carry."

Elliot chuckles. "You might be too big for your mom, but I can carry you."

And then Olivia's voice chimes in. "You can probably carry a car." She leans over from her spot in the kitchen doorway and kisses Noah's forehead. "Good night, baby."

"Night, mom. Elliot said he'd tuck me in."

Olivia nods and stands back while Elliot takes Noah back to his room. She's waiting for him in the kitchen when he returns, her face nervous and tired, and he worries about how much she heard and if he said the wrong thing. He says nothing, just sits down in the chair across from hers like either one of them is ready to be awake and having a serious discussion at three in the morning.

"Was he ok?" Her voice is soft and he can feel how nervous she is and he's honestly not sure if he's nervous because she is or vice versa or if they're both nervous independently.

"He woke me because he didn't remember you were home." He doesn't feel like pointing out that he was lying awake because he was starting to question their entire relationship. "He just wanted a popsicle."

She nods, giving the statements far more consideration than is necessary, and he understands when she speaks up again. "That box he was talking about is the stuff Cragen made me clean off your desk. It's yours whenever you want it."

He'd been wrong when he'd thought he was nervous before. He's fucking nervous as all hell now, thinking that she's about to call him out for everything, for leaving the way he had, for not contacting her, for abandoning all his shit on his desk for her to have to clean up when he could have done it himself in the middle of the fucking night and spared her the pain. He swallows hard, unable to even speak the apology he knows she deserves because he's about to start sobbing over how very much he doesn't deserve her and no fucking wonder she doens't trust him not to break her heart because he already broke her heart.

"I never hid the fact that he was adopted from him, but I don't think he really understood what that meant until he got a little older. I think he was four or five when he asked if you were his dad." She looks away and sighs. "So I reminded him that he was adopted and I explained that you were my partner for a long time. I wasn't sure he knew what I was talking about, he was so young. He really surprised me when we bumped into you on Mother's Day and he remembered who you were."

His jaw is clenched and he's nodding at her words and he's fighting back the urge to cry again because she'll wind up comforting him and he doesn't deserve the comfort. He caused her the pain of packing up his desk and not having him answer when she called to check on him and having to explain to her son that he had once been someone very important to her and then had to hide his picture away because it probably hurt too much to think about. He doesn't know what to say even if he could force out words, so he reaches out instead, closing his hand around hers and squeezing it tight.

She stands up, leaving their fingers linked as she starts toward her bedroom. "Come on, you look as tired as I feel."

He can't even enjoy the intimacy of curling up with her in bed and holding her because he's overwhelmed with guilt. He wants to tell her then, when they're snuggled up close, that he's sorry, that he'll spend the rest of his life making it up to her if she'll let him. But when he finally manages to clear his throat and breathe her name in a whisper, she's asleep and he doesn't have the heart to wake her.

Two days later, Elliot wakes up feeling like he swallowed broken glass and he hasn't had strep throat in decades, but all of a sudden he understands why Noah was crying and moaning because mother of fucking god his throat fucking hurts. Olivia is still working crazy hours on the serial case and he feels bad for calling her at five am when she's on her way to work and whining about how much it hurts. Somewhere around noon he watches her speaking at a news conference and hears her strong voice and he's reminded of how weak and painful his voice is at the moment and he can't help it, so he texts her while she's still on camera, standing next to McGrath, and he sees her look down at his text stating that she's the sexiest, most beautiful woman he's ever seen and then he's watching while she fights to keep her face appropriately somber for the remainder of the conference. She texts him back as soon as they walk off camera, telling him he's an asshole and it feels so very much like their partnership that he can't help but smile, and then five minutes after that she asks if he needs to her to bring over popsicles or bourbon or anything because she knows he caught strep throat instead of her and he refuses the offer because he doesn't want her to catch it from him and as miserable as he is, he's glad he could take this one bit of pain from her for once.

He's feeling better a few days later and he can't help but see that they finally caught the guy they were chasing and he shows up at her door with a pizza and she's grinning from the living room when Noah opens the door and lets out a cheer that Elliot remembered he likes sausage and Olivia smiles harder when she discovers he only got sausage on half the pizza and they all manage to fall asleep together on the couch that night, Noah leaning on Olivia who is leaning on Elliot, and though they still haven't managed to find the time to talk or define or plan anything, he thinks maybe it's all going to be ok after all, until Olivia shakes him awake at midnight and invites him to leave while she's directing Noah back to his bedroom and Elliot wonders aloud what the harm would be in just letting them all get a little bit of rest. Rather than answer him, Olivia glares as though he's said something that would somehow negatively impact Noah's emotional development, and reminds him to lock the door on his way out.

Fin calls him the following week, mentioning that Olivia's birthday is coming up and saying he's getting some people together for a surprise party and invites him along. Elliot is still annoyed about being kicked out of her place, about the way that he can take care of Noah when she has no one else to call, but she's obviously drawing a line somewhere and he's not supposed to cross it and they can't seem to find the time to sit down long enough to talk about where that line is. He's annoyed that he's been sleeping with her for almost nine months now and he should be the one planning her birthday and he'd be making plans to take her and Noah out somewhere together instead of gathering her coworkers in a bar, but he's not going to pass up the chance to see her and he thinks maybe if he helps then he can arrange with Fin to get her a whole night off the next week and get her a babysitter and actually take her out for a real date with both of their phones turned off so she might be able to enjoy herself. But he can't mention it to Fin, not until she clears it, because they still haven't had that conversation he knows they've needed to have for almost a fucking year.

The night of the party, Elliot finds her in her office, working on paperwork he's pretty sure isn't all that important, dressed like she knows she's supposed to be somewhere besides work. Fin has already texted him twice, asking if he can please get the guest of honor to the damn party, and Elliot wonders how well thought out the idea of a surprise party was. Olivia likes neither surprises nor parties. He's leaning on her door and she's looking up at him with all of the dread he'd expect of someone about to go to a funeral.

"Liv, you know-"

She nods and leans back in her chair with a sigh. "I do. And I can't believe you helped him plan a damn surprise party for me."

He shakes his head and approaches her, leaning on her desk. "I had nothing to do with it. Fin invited me and charged me with dragging you there, that's all."

"I don't want a surprise party. I don't want to spend hours talking to people I already talk to all day long." She's pouting and it's taking all of his concentration not to kiss the expression right off her face.

"So let's blow it off." He looks around the office and realizes her blinds are closed and most of the squad is waiting for them at the bar so there's no one here to see anything anyway. He reaches out, sliding his hands around her waist and pulling her to her feet and then up against him and it's been so damn long since he's touched her like this and he misses the way they'd still been able to carve out private moments only a few months ago and she's pliant in his arms and leaning against him and he can't help himself, he's fucking missed her and it has been way too long and his mouth is everywhere and he just can't get enough and she's pulling him closer by his tie and yanking at his belt and somehow a moment later, he's eating her out while she's lying back on her desk with her legs over his shoulders and he doesn't fucking care if everyone knows why she's late to her own party because he's sure this is a much better gift than hanging around with her coworkers all night.

When they're finished, she's a little panicked as she looks around at her office and he's smirking happily and trying to distract her with kisses while she's trying to reconstruct the piles of papers on her desk that they'd sent flying onto the floor and she's muttering about how easily someone could have seen them and he's joking that everyone already thinks they were screwing around the captain's desk years ago so catching them in the act wouldn't surprise anyone and then she's scowling at him like she'd scowled at Noah when he'd made a fart joke at dinner the previous week.

She insists on showing up at the bar separately even though Fin had specifically sent him to get her and he lets it go because he's not about to have an argument with her on her birthday and he doesn't want to her freak out over the love bite he'd left on her neck that she hasn't seen yet and since that's probably not how she wants everyone to find out about them, he promises to wait ten minutes and watches her leave. He only waits five, but that's because he can still fucking taste her and he needs to drag her into the restroom in the bar for a few more minutes of alone time as soon as they get there.

He bumps into Ayanna on his way through the door and Olivia is still acting surprised with the celebration and she nods at him as though she appreciates that he's willingly letting everyone think he and Ayanna just came from work together and he's an uncomfortable mix of turned on and pissed off. He waits. He behaves. He lets his girlfriend talk to every other person in the overcrowded bar first.

He's been there over an hour when he finally sees a chance, when Olivia is ordering a fresh glass of wine at the bar, and he sidles up to her, his arm naturally moving to her waist, his body leaning in maybe a hair too close for friends but certainly not closer than they've been tonight and not even as close as they stood for thirteen years when they worked side by side.

She turns with a lazy smile, her senses dulled a bit by the several glasses of wine she's already had, her eyes going wide when she recognizes that it's him and she's shoving his arm away and backing up a step and his mouth drops open because it wasn't even two hours ago he had his tongue inside her while she was keening his name and he doesn't want to fight, but shit she's killing him here.

She looks around in a paranoid fashion as she backs up a little further and he's shaking his head because they've never stood an arm's length apart, not even when they were shouting at each other and he was married.

"What the fuck, Olivia?" His voice comes out harsh and he's not even sorry because he needs her to know how much this is getting to him.

She glances over both shoulders as though the fucking bartender is paying the least bit of attention to them. "Not here."

They just fucked on her desk and he knows she's trying to keep everyone from finding out, but hell, he wants to tell everyone so they can stop hiding it. He doesn't really think anyone in the room would be at all surprised. "Why not?"

She lowers her voice and leans a bit closer, but only because someone has approached the bar and Olivia doesn't want them to overhear. "We're at work, Elliot."

He scoffs and motions around the room with his beer. "We're in a fucking bar, Olivia." He sees the reflection of the front door in the mirror over the bar and he happens to catch Trevor fucking Langan walking in and he wants to stick his fist through the glass. "We're at a party with your friends."

She shakes her head, drains her wine, and nods to the bartender for another. "They're coworkers."

He sighs and watches as Langan approaches, nodding at him, smiling widely at Olivia. He wants to fight. He wants to argue. But he's certain that if he starts shit in this company, he will never hear the end of it. He waits for her to exchange greetings with Langan, his stomach tying in knots when the bastard leans down to press a kiss against her cheek and mutter "happy birthday, beautiful" before he moves over to the table with Fin and Amanda and the new detectives Elliot doesn't know as though the bastard belongs there with her inner circle.

He's clenching his teeth and trying not to glare at her and fighting back tears at the same time and he thinks her eyes soften a little bit when she turns back to him, maybe because she's imagining how hard the situation would be for her in reverse.

"I don't even want to be here, so can we just get through it, El?"

Maybe it's the way she says it like she expects to leave with him. Maybe it's the way she's smiling like she's not embarrassed to be seen in public with him. But he finds himself nodding. "Let me take you to dinner over the weekend. Just you and me and Noah. Just us."

She looks over her shoulders again, seemingly satisfied no one heard. "We'll see."

At least the last few times, she's agreed, even if she wound up getting called away. She hasn't dodged an invitation from him like this since they started their whatever-this-is. He can't hide the way his face falls and he feels like they've taken so many steps backwards they'll never get back to where they were at Christmas and he really fucking despises the idea that the high point of their relationship was spending the holidays apart.

She swallows, her face revealing something like regret. "I've worked really hard to earn respect here. I don't want to give that all back by bringing up all the rumors from twenty years ago."

He's trying, trying to agree with her, trying to understand, because he's pretty damn sure that Fin and Amanda and fuck even Langan know nothing ever happened between them while they were partners. But he can understand that she cares a lot more about appearances than he does and so he gives in. It's not like he has any choice anyway. "Where do you want me to sit?"

He wants to sit next to her. He wants to put his arms around her and hold her close and tell everyone that this woman fucking loves him, but when she glares at him for his innocent question, he starts to think maybe she was just overwhelmed with emotion and loneliness the way that some people are at the holidays and she certainly hasn't made much of an effort to see him since she told him she fucking loves him so he's not sure what to believe anymore.

"Sit wherever the fuck you want, Elliot." She shakes her head and storms away and he can't help but be impressed by the fact that now everyone in the fucking bar is going to assume they're fighting and never once think he left that fucking hickey on her throat an hour ago and she's a master fucking manipulator and he's just never realized it.

He has every intention of drinking his body weight in hard liquor and he's fucking furious and he wants to make Olivia every bit as uncomfortable as he is right now, so he slides into a chair on the opposite side of her from Langan so they're flanking her, where he can watch unhappily as Langan leans closer and closer and how his arm eventually moves from the back of Olivia's chair to her shoulders and she's not shoving the bastard away even though she's occasionally meeting Elliot's eyes and leaning towards him and not the sloppily drunk lawyer and he knows she's trying to tell him to calm down silently, but there's no fucking way he's ever calming down when he has to sit there and watch her be pawed at a table with her friends and he can't even touch her at all while he can still feel the sting of the scratches she left on his back.

Langan excuses himself to get her a refill and Olivia is protesting saying that she doesn't want anymore and Elliot wants to yell at the man who is clearly trying to get Olivia intoxicated enough to make a very bad decision and then Amanda, who has also already had her share of alcohol, leans across the table and speaks a little too loudly.

"So it finally happened, huh?" She chuckling to herself while she's motioning at Olivia's neck and Elliot can see the way her face pales and the shocked way her eyes dart to his and Elliot knows, he fucking knows Amanda is talking about Langan, but he also knows that Olivia has completely missed that fact because she's drunk.

"No, no, it's not like that, we're friends." She's shaking her head and leaning so far away from him that she nearly falls out of her chair and he tries to tell himself not to be offended by her denial because there are a lot of people listening and this revelation in this company with most of the audience drunk is exactly what Olivia was trying to avoid and then Langan is back with a glass of wine that she throws back in two sips and then she's so fucking close to Langan that he can't watch anymore and he has to get up, disappears to the restroom and balls his hands into fists and reminds himself that everyone will hear him if he screams at the top of his lungs.

When he returns to the bar, he pounds back four shots in rapid succession and watches as most of the table moves apart and Olivia is still there with Fin and Elliot decides it's time to leave before things get even more out of hand, but it's her fucking birthday and he doesn't want to leave without saying anything and so he approaches his two oldest friends.

Fin is shaking his head with a frown as he stares at Langan. "You know, I honestly never saw that coming."

Elliot is so used to reading her that he can see her panic from behind, the tensing of her shoulders, the way she nervously combs her hands through her hair. "Never saw what?"

"You and Langan. He never seemed like a good match for you."

Elliot hears her awkward laugh. "Oh, that, we're friends."

He's so close he's not sure how neither one of them has noticed his approach, but Fin's words assure him that he remains unseen. "I'm glad you and Stabler finally worked shit out. You've seemed happy for the last few months."

He can't believe he's here, they're here, that their relationship is finally going to see the damn light of day because they've known Fin almost as long as they've known each other and any of the three of them would take a bullet for the others and so it's ok that Fin gets to know first and Fin already figured it out anyway and Elliot is fucking dying for the chance to sit back down next to her and let his hand brush her thigh under the table for a fucking moment to reestablish what they have and remind her how very much she likes his hands on her and glare at Langan until he leaves.

But then her nervous laughter sounds again, her words a cold stab to his gut. "No, Fin, we're just friends."

That's twice now in one night that she has denied him. The first time he'd tried to understand, blamed it on the professional acquaintances listening. But this is just Fin, just her friend, a real, live, actual friend with no ulterior motives or complicated feelings aimed in her direction, a friend who has watched most of their relationship play out and evolve and has, as far as Elliot has ever been able to tell, been in their corner for working it out because he's friends with both of them and he knows how they feel about each other and he thinks they'd be happier together.

Fin shakes his head with a disappointed smirk. "So which friend left that?" He's nodding at the mark on her neck and chuckling to himself. "Because I know it wasn't there when I left the office and I know Elliot was going there to drag you here."

She's turning away from Fin in embarrassment and she finally notices Elliot standing there and she's looking right at him when she responds to Fin. "It's nothing important, Fin."

And that's three times. His best friend. The woman he loves. Turning on him like that. He wouldn't go so far as to compare himself to Jesus, but shit, he knows the fucking feeling of being denied three times by the last fucking person he'd ever expected to do it.

At least Fin has the decency, and the sense, to recognize something isn't right and he looks down to stare at the label on his beer bottle. Unfortunately, Olivia's other friend has apparently neither decency nor sense, and reappears, accidently checking Elliot's shoulder as he collapses back into his seat at Olivia's side.

Elliot is still standing there, more or less stunned into immobility, as several others return to the table. Langan doesn't seem to notice, or maybe he doesn't care, that he has an audience. He doesn't notice that Elliot and Olivia are locked in a staring contest while one of them looks devastated and sick.

Instead he slaps his hand very obviously onto Olivia's thigh and grins at her. "I'd love to take you out for dinner this weekend and celebrate your birthday in style."

Olivia turns to Langan, a smile slowly curving her lips. "Dinner sounds perfect."

That's all he needs to hear. He's back at the bar in seconds, pounding back several more shots, knowing there's nothing strong enough to dull the excruciating pain he feels so he's going to have to pray for unconsciousness instead.

All of his fears about what has really been going on are suddenly ringing true, all the dates she canceled, all the hiding from everyone, including her son most of the time, all the meetings that could only happen late at night at one of their homes, all the refusing to do anything besides fuck him. And that's when he gets it, when it finally sinks in. It really didn't mean anything to her. She was using him. He was just there, a safe bet, a sure thing, a place holder to fill a need until someone better came along. And no matter how much he loves her, he knows one thing is absolutely true.

He can't love her enough for both of them.