title: religious ecstasy - chapter five
author: duck
rating: pg-13
author note: shorties but goodies. this one was tough to write and i'm all up for editorial suggestions if anyone wants to make any. and on a completely separate thought, i've now decreed that richard belzer is THE MAN after re-reading my well-loved copy of ufos, jfk, and elvis for at least the twentieth time. if you haven't read it yet you should read it after you're done with the davinci code. because i know you'll read whatever i say ;)
disclaimer: still. not. mine.
- Whitehall Street -
- Wednesday April 28th 12:48am -
The air was chilly for so late in April and Elliot should have been worrying about Olivia catching a cold dressed the way she was. At least he would be if she weren't snuggled into his lap with her chin resting on his shoulder. He resisted the impulse to tighten his grip around her waist and continued to stare at the exit to the Opus Dei sanctuary.
"Still no movement?" she asked quietly, half-whispering into his ear. He felt an involuntary shiver go up his spine.
"Nothing, you?"
"No." Olivia was watching the alley through the back of car as carefully as Elliot was watching the front. He could tell her nerves were standing on end as much as his were; her body was tense and she kept shifting slightly.
His earpiece crackled to life and Munch's voice filled the silence. "We've got a couple people together walking on the street. Not likely our doer is one of them."
"Could be both," Fin added. His gravely voice was distorted even more through the tiny speaker.
"Huang thinks we're looking for a solitary guy," Olivia reminded. He'd finally showed up earlier that evening as they were prepping for the plant to offer his analysis. He'd seemed convinced that the plant was going to work, if not the first night then eventually.
"He's not going to be able to resist the compulsion to kill," he had said in that even, calm voice. "Especially if he is killing to satisfy a religious need. Once he sees two people in a car near his church the killer's mentality will take over and he won't be able to stop himself."
"We'll just have to stop him, then," Elliot had said, casting a protective eye over Olivia who was busy trying to figure out how she was supposed to wear the clothes vice had provided. The blue collared shirt would have been something he could see her wearing on a normal day if it had another foot of material on it. The shorts--the phrase 'booty shorts' came instantly to mind--and fishnets on the other hand were something she'd never wear and he'd almost laughed at her discomfort once she'd managed to get it all on. The death looks she'd given to everyone in the room had deterred him however and not even Munch had an offhanded comment for her.
Of course she was really quite stunning in all of it, which wasn't a problem at first, but now that she was perched precariously on his lap it was becoming more and more of an issue. Especially if she kept shifting around like *that*. A guy really couldn't help his physical reaction, aside from his damnable feelings that he could very well help. Biting his lip he thought of cold showers and doing that stupid Polar Bear Plunge upstate when he was twenty and home on leave.
It worked for now and leaned back to support his head against the headrest, his eyes still unwavering from the church door despite the path of his thoughts. And then she shifted again. This could not last long.
"Dammit, Liv, could you stop moving?"
"You try crouching on your knees like this for hours on end." Oh, well that explained that. It hadn't even occurred to him.
"Sorry." He pushed her down so she was actually sitting on his legs. "Better?"
"A little, yeah." Her tone told him she was still pissed, an increasingly frequent occurrence these days.
Unfortunately, their new position meant she was practically laying on top of him to keep her chin on his shoulder. After a few moments of shuffling they ended up with her arms around his waist and his touching way too much bare skin to be good. Still, that meant he could feel her goose bumps.
"Cold?"
"Rather." He rubbed her back with his hands, hoping to pass along warmth by kinetic energy. She pressed into his body ever so slightly and he felt himself smiling.
------
This is without a doubt the worst thing I've ever had to do, Olivia thought as Elliot rubbed her back, trying to warm her up. The cold wasn't so much bothering her as having to sit on Elliot's lap was. At first she'd tried to maintain some sort of distance, but it had been too painful on her knees after a while and he'd gotten annoyed with her constant movements to relieve the pressure.
She was more upset with herself for feeling so childish about all this. Poor Elliot probably thought she was mad at him. Poor married-with-four-children Elliot. She had to constantly remind herself of that fact. It was just that he was possibly her best friend in the world, and so attractive to top his charming personality off. Sitting on his lap in the middle of the night while scantily clad--scratch that, all but unclothed--was something that she entertained only in her most closely guarded fantasies.
Cold shower, cold shower, cold shower. Repeat the mantra. Think about the time you and your friends decided it would be fun to jump into that icy pond. That had been a bad, bad idea. A childhood stupidity.
Not unlike now. But he just smelled so damn good and the heat coming off his body was perfect. She couldn't stop herself from burrowing down further into his chest. A rumbling chuckle echoed against her.
"What's so funny?"
"You."
"I'm cold, Stabler! We could always trade clothes. Try laughing then." The mental image of Elliot shoving himself into the fishnets was enough to make her snicker.
"Now what's so funny?"
"You in fishnets."
"Dirty girl." They both laughed and her tension drained. "I don't think it's quite my style though."
"The shirt would show off your tattoos so nicely though."
"But I inherited my mother's hips; those shorts would make my ass look bigger than a Macy's balloon."
Her earpiece hissed again as Munch decided to ring in with his comments. "I'm sure you could give old J. Edgar a run for his money, Elliot."
"Yeah, add a feather boa to the ensemble and it's complete," Olivia said, pulling back to look at Elliot's face. He blue eyes shined with amusement in the dim light from the streetlamp. "Maybe a little make-up around the eyes."
"Not too much," he said. "Wouldn't want Maureen to get upset because I look too much like Johnny Depp."
"Trust me, you won't even come close, pretty boy," Olivia assured. She eyed him like she was measuring him up. "Although you might be able to pull off a pirate hat."
"And a monkey?" he asked, features lifted in mock hopefulness.
"Well that's what we have Cragen for," Olivia said, knowing full well he'd chime in. Sure enough the earpiece hissed.
"Hey, I heard that. You two still keeping your eyes out? This is a stakeout after all. Would be a shame to miss anything." Oops, busted.
"Yeah, captain," Olivia said, settling back with her head on Elliot's shoulder. Silence reigned for a few minutes.
"So," she finally said.
"What?"
"I'm sorry about how I've been acting lately."
"What's to apologize about? It's a rough case; we're all feeling it, Liv."
"Just accept my apology and make me feel better." She leaned her head against his. "Please?" The stubble of his cheek rubbed pleasantly against her smooth one.
"Apology accepted." She felt his arms tighten around her back and smiled.
------
Munch looked over to his smirking partner. "Hey! We still have several hours to go!"
"And you'll be begging for double or nothing."
"Never."
They both turned back to their watch on the street three stories down. Nothing stirred as the city slept on. After an endless moment Munch broke the silence.
"Let's say--purely hypothetically speaking of course-- that I did. What would you say?"
Fin spared him a glance, but he was still studying the road below.
"I might accept."
[tbc]
and i quote the great fiona apple... "your hungry flirt borders on intrusion/i'm building memories on things we have not said"
you should listen to "tidal" and "when the pawn..." while you read richard belzer's book :) because you do everything i say...ha. hope the short chapter was good enough. editorial suggestions welcome.
author: duck
rating: pg-13
author note: shorties but goodies. this one was tough to write and i'm all up for editorial suggestions if anyone wants to make any. and on a completely separate thought, i've now decreed that richard belzer is THE MAN after re-reading my well-loved copy of ufos, jfk, and elvis for at least the twentieth time. if you haven't read it yet you should read it after you're done with the davinci code. because i know you'll read whatever i say ;)
disclaimer: still. not. mine.
- Whitehall Street -
- Wednesday April 28th 12:48am -
The air was chilly for so late in April and Elliot should have been worrying about Olivia catching a cold dressed the way she was. At least he would be if she weren't snuggled into his lap with her chin resting on his shoulder. He resisted the impulse to tighten his grip around her waist and continued to stare at the exit to the Opus Dei sanctuary.
"Still no movement?" she asked quietly, half-whispering into his ear. He felt an involuntary shiver go up his spine.
"Nothing, you?"
"No." Olivia was watching the alley through the back of car as carefully as Elliot was watching the front. He could tell her nerves were standing on end as much as his were; her body was tense and she kept shifting slightly.
His earpiece crackled to life and Munch's voice filled the silence. "We've got a couple people together walking on the street. Not likely our doer is one of them."
"Could be both," Fin added. His gravely voice was distorted even more through the tiny speaker.
"Huang thinks we're looking for a solitary guy," Olivia reminded. He'd finally showed up earlier that evening as they were prepping for the plant to offer his analysis. He'd seemed convinced that the plant was going to work, if not the first night then eventually.
"He's not going to be able to resist the compulsion to kill," he had said in that even, calm voice. "Especially if he is killing to satisfy a religious need. Once he sees two people in a car near his church the killer's mentality will take over and he won't be able to stop himself."
"We'll just have to stop him, then," Elliot had said, casting a protective eye over Olivia who was busy trying to figure out how she was supposed to wear the clothes vice had provided. The blue collared shirt would have been something he could see her wearing on a normal day if it had another foot of material on it. The shorts--the phrase 'booty shorts' came instantly to mind--and fishnets on the other hand were something she'd never wear and he'd almost laughed at her discomfort once she'd managed to get it all on. The death looks she'd given to everyone in the room had deterred him however and not even Munch had an offhanded comment for her.
Of course she was really quite stunning in all of it, which wasn't a problem at first, but now that she was perched precariously on his lap it was becoming more and more of an issue. Especially if she kept shifting around like *that*. A guy really couldn't help his physical reaction, aside from his damnable feelings that he could very well help. Biting his lip he thought of cold showers and doing that stupid Polar Bear Plunge upstate when he was twenty and home on leave.
It worked for now and leaned back to support his head against the headrest, his eyes still unwavering from the church door despite the path of his thoughts. And then she shifted again. This could not last long.
"Dammit, Liv, could you stop moving?"
"You try crouching on your knees like this for hours on end." Oh, well that explained that. It hadn't even occurred to him.
"Sorry." He pushed her down so she was actually sitting on his legs. "Better?"
"A little, yeah." Her tone told him she was still pissed, an increasingly frequent occurrence these days.
Unfortunately, their new position meant she was practically laying on top of him to keep her chin on his shoulder. After a few moments of shuffling they ended up with her arms around his waist and his touching way too much bare skin to be good. Still, that meant he could feel her goose bumps.
"Cold?"
"Rather." He rubbed her back with his hands, hoping to pass along warmth by kinetic energy. She pressed into his body ever so slightly and he felt himself smiling.
------
This is without a doubt the worst thing I've ever had to do, Olivia thought as Elliot rubbed her back, trying to warm her up. The cold wasn't so much bothering her as having to sit on Elliot's lap was. At first she'd tried to maintain some sort of distance, but it had been too painful on her knees after a while and he'd gotten annoyed with her constant movements to relieve the pressure.
She was more upset with herself for feeling so childish about all this. Poor Elliot probably thought she was mad at him. Poor married-with-four-children Elliot. She had to constantly remind herself of that fact. It was just that he was possibly her best friend in the world, and so attractive to top his charming personality off. Sitting on his lap in the middle of the night while scantily clad--scratch that, all but unclothed--was something that she entertained only in her most closely guarded fantasies.
Cold shower, cold shower, cold shower. Repeat the mantra. Think about the time you and your friends decided it would be fun to jump into that icy pond. That had been a bad, bad idea. A childhood stupidity.
Not unlike now. But he just smelled so damn good and the heat coming off his body was perfect. She couldn't stop herself from burrowing down further into his chest. A rumbling chuckle echoed against her.
"What's so funny?"
"You."
"I'm cold, Stabler! We could always trade clothes. Try laughing then." The mental image of Elliot shoving himself into the fishnets was enough to make her snicker.
"Now what's so funny?"
"You in fishnets."
"Dirty girl." They both laughed and her tension drained. "I don't think it's quite my style though."
"The shirt would show off your tattoos so nicely though."
"But I inherited my mother's hips; those shorts would make my ass look bigger than a Macy's balloon."
Her earpiece hissed again as Munch decided to ring in with his comments. "I'm sure you could give old J. Edgar a run for his money, Elliot."
"Yeah, add a feather boa to the ensemble and it's complete," Olivia said, pulling back to look at Elliot's face. He blue eyes shined with amusement in the dim light from the streetlamp. "Maybe a little make-up around the eyes."
"Not too much," he said. "Wouldn't want Maureen to get upset because I look too much like Johnny Depp."
"Trust me, you won't even come close, pretty boy," Olivia assured. She eyed him like she was measuring him up. "Although you might be able to pull off a pirate hat."
"And a monkey?" he asked, features lifted in mock hopefulness.
"Well that's what we have Cragen for," Olivia said, knowing full well he'd chime in. Sure enough the earpiece hissed.
"Hey, I heard that. You two still keeping your eyes out? This is a stakeout after all. Would be a shame to miss anything." Oops, busted.
"Yeah, captain," Olivia said, settling back with her head on Elliot's shoulder. Silence reigned for a few minutes.
"So," she finally said.
"What?"
"I'm sorry about how I've been acting lately."
"What's to apologize about? It's a rough case; we're all feeling it, Liv."
"Just accept my apology and make me feel better." She leaned her head against his. "Please?" The stubble of his cheek rubbed pleasantly against her smooth one.
"Apology accepted." She felt his arms tighten around her back and smiled.
------
Munch looked over to his smirking partner. "Hey! We still have several hours to go!"
"And you'll be begging for double or nothing."
"Never."
They both turned back to their watch on the street three stories down. Nothing stirred as the city slept on. After an endless moment Munch broke the silence.
"Let's say--purely hypothetically speaking of course-- that I did. What would you say?"
Fin spared him a glance, but he was still studying the road below.
"I might accept."
[tbc]
and i quote the great fiona apple... "your hungry flirt borders on intrusion/i'm building memories on things we have not said"
you should listen to "tidal" and "when the pawn..." while you read richard belzer's book :) because you do everything i say...ha. hope the short chapter was good enough. editorial suggestions welcome.