Ava Cabot
Illusionary
A Law and Order: SVU fic
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. Olivia, Elliot, and Cragen belong to Dick Wolf.
Holding my last breath,
Safe inside myself,
Are all my thoughts of you.
Sweet raptured light,
It ends here tonight.
Evanescence: My Last Breath
It didn't take a fool to notice what they were doing.
I, Captain Donald Cragen, may be old, bitter and somewhat ignorant of the affairs of my detectives, but I'm not stupid. A blind man could see what Olivia and Elliot were doing.
Fools do anything when they're in love. I was young once. I remember being head over heels for a pretty girl. But I'm not so young and naïve anymore. I've had enough time to face my demons and try to conquer them. Compared to my experiences, Olivia and Elliot were just stupid kids doing stupid things.
I knew Elliot had his eye on her since she joined the SVU force. Years of scaling up the wall intensity had led up to all of this, now in the present. I knew Elliot's wife, Kathy, was suspicious. Anyone would be. She'd probably heard of so many cases where a detective fell in love with his dangerously beautiful partner. It happened all the time, and not just in movies and on TV. This happened in real life, not fantasy.
It started out small, at first. When Olivia transferred over, she was still a kid, the youngest of all my detectives. She acted beyond her years of a young cop, not wide-eyed and innocent anymore. She'd seen too many bodies ripped apart from life and too many tragedies to shake her. She was corrupted in the way a police officer is.
She was striking, eye-catching, and dazzling. Dark eyes flashed underneath a flurry of long lashes, one eye always covered by a lock of stray chestnut hair. It swayed gently below her shoulders, framing her porcelain face. She was too pretty for the male staff of SVU. I know if I were at least thirty years younger, I'd like her. But I'm an old man, and have no interest in pretty women. Dead ones, not live ones, floated in my world of sexually- abused victims.
Elliot seemed to be the only one noticing her. Munch was my age, and was interested in someone else, the identity of whom was yet to be revealed. Olivia was too young and bold for any man. It was no wonder she was always at the department, working instead of dating. Few men could put up with her. Elliot was one of those exceptions. It seemed a good idea to pair them together.
No one ever thought their relationship could escalate to this.
For a while, we all just ignored it, thinking Elliot was being a good partner, showing the rookie all the techniques of a good SVU cop. It didn't help that he was an overeager teacher, and she the ever-willing, too-smart- for-her-own-good student.
Even then, she didn't know how far he'd been drawn into her. But then again, she was part of the entire problem.
Day by day they faced some crime. Some incident where a girl was dead, by rape, molestation, sodomy, any form of sexual assault the assailant could think of. Everyone in their eyes became a victim. Elliot's children, their friends, and family, even random people they saw on the street. Anyone could be next in the ME's office.
Cop life can eat away at souls. Elliot and Olivia were slowly drowning in dead bodies, choking on the stench of criminals and jail. I would pity them, if I weren't already lost to the world of injustice and murder.
Elliot couldn't get enough of her, it seemed. They worked side-by-side in the morning, glued to paperwork until a murder called them away. They drove her car, driving all the way to the ME or hospital, depending on if the victim was alive or dead.
They shared parts of their lives as time went on. Elliot's own personal one was eaten up by his bread-winning job, and Olivia lacked a decent social life for a person as attractive and young as she was for her age. Elliot tried to be a father while on the job, and Olivia tried to solve crimes single-handedly, trying to repent for the life she gave up. Both had vendettas to prove, and many believed they would die to keep them.
Elliot wanted to keep his three young daughters and only son away from the crime-ridden streets of New York. He didn't want his daughters raped and killed, or his son driven crazy and thrown into a psych ward. He couldn't bear to see Kathy dead, covered by cardboard in an alley or floating down the Hudson.
But that all changed with Olivia.
Olivia and Elliot. Both good, strong names for people. Olivia's name was Greek, derived from the olive tree that Athena, the passionately wise and artistic goddess, gave to the Grecians. Elliot was the name of heroes, battle-savvy warriors, and men destined for a hard, rocky life.
Once Olivia came into the picture, everything but her disappeared from Elliot's mind. Kathy, his home, even his past vanished whenever she walked into the office. She was drop-dead gorgeous in the way that exotic movies stars were, in a coy, almost seductive manner. She would have easily been at home in a dark, sultry corner of Hungary or France, where beauties like her thrived. Instead she planted roots in New York, preying almost like a succubus on Elliot's mind.
They can't seem to function without the other present. Olivia, not bound by the responsibility of a family, is the earlier one of the two. She's agitated until he arrives, jumpy and anxious not due to a lack of sleep, but instead due to the lack of Elliot's familiar presence. Munch learned early to stay clear of her until Elliot arrived. Until then, she would snap if bothered, or pace around, her eyes pretending to scan a file.
She was trying to hide her craze for him.
Once Elliot arrived, the station functioned properly. Olivia could concentrate, and the other officers stopped avoiding the cranky detective. She remained calm, even suave when talking softly over the desk, acting as if her behavior prior to his arrival never existed.
Olivia had him wrapped around her thin little finger. Any word she spoke, he replied to. It was a normal routine, one that didn't require much effort from the two. Whenever he rose to get a cup of coffee, he would return with a steaming paper cup for her. When she needed to rest after three days with no sleep, it was him who drove her home, making sure she made it inside her building. It was her who he came to console in. Not his wife.
They just always assumed they would be together, as partners, as lovers. They were joined at the hip, and would remain that way for some time. They think I never noticed, but I did. I saw the way his hand lingered on the small of her back while they left for a case. I noticed when their eyes met above the desks, lingering until someone broke in.
Their hands casually brushing each other's in the interrogation room. The lack of restraint between them while investigating was infuriating. They couldn't control themselves around each other. It was just impossible.
And then she changed herself just for him.
Elliot told her, in an overly friendly way, that she was looking too much like a cop. The makeup on her face increased. Her eyes were smudged with eyeliner, looking dusky in the early morning light. Her lips were fuller, her face glowing. She cut her hair short, throwing Elliot off completely. One day, she had long, naturally dark locks. The next, it was short and auburn streaked. She was distinguishing herself from Kathy.
Olivia wasn't just his cute partner. She wasn't a kid anymore, interested in a man she could never have. The game of love was on, and she was ready to take action. Kathy was upbeat, blonde, and had held Elliot's attention for years. Olivia was shadowy, dark, and was catching his interest now. She crept up on the Stabler radar without much of an effort.
Their façade was a curtain waiting to be dropped. Any minute their love- nest time bomb would explode, and take down the Stabler family, the SVU team, even most of the tri-state area with them. Their romantic interludes could take down the entire department.
And yet they wanted to be together.
Noises now interrupt my thoughts. I know Olivia and Elliot are still here—they are always the last ones to leave, around two in the morning. There's a reason we have a couch in the loft. Some of us, including me, don't even leave the station.
They must think I'm asleep or gone. Or they wouldn't be talking so openly; so bold and promiscuous that it makes me sick just to listen. Don't they have sensors for this kind of conversation?
Their voices drop to a whisper. If my curiosity was full of any sense of morality, I wouldn't try to listen. But they are my best detectives. If anything happens between them, I'm bound to do something. Transfer Elliot to Narcotics. Send Olivia to Alaska. Anything to get them apart from this situation.
But instead, I listen.
"...My eyes are killing me...find anything yet?"
"Nothing."
"We've had this case for almost a damn month. Why can't we pin the father again?"
"Because he refuses a voluntary DNA sample, and Alex can't secure us a court order. Apparently, we have 'insufficient' evidence."
"That's bull."
"You and I know that. But the law doesn't."
"We both know he's guilty. Why can't we just bust him?"
"It'd be on our heads. Cragen would himself serve them to the DA on a silver platter."
I smile. They know me too well.
"I wish we could just put him away. His own daughter...he raped his own daughter. And covered his tracks by killing her. What kind of sick freak does that?"
"The kind we hunt down and put in jail."
"Doesn't anyone have a conscious?"
"Sex offenders don't."
I heard Olivia sigh. This was going to be a long night for the two of them. Elliot would go home around four, get yelled at by Kathy, and relive another day in Hell. Olivia wouldn't sleep tonight, and would twitch for about forty-eight hours before I send her home. But then, if she did sleep, nightmares would plague her. The bodies of girls we couldn't save in time would haunt her dreams. SVU cops lived in nightmares, not dreams.
Why was it so hard for them to restrain themselves? Mentally, I knew they were all over each other. But physically, they were tumbling down in an avalanche of regret. If I could save them, I would. But even now, they were lost to each other.
I watched him brush a tentative hand against hers. I could imagine Kathy sitting on the couch of her home in Queens, struggling to understand why her husband was never home anymore. She tangled with the thoughts of where he was, whom he was with. She knew he was with Olivia. She probably even thought he was screwing her.
Well, Kathy wasn't completely off mark.
I leaned farther on my desk, pressing my face down on the mountain of papers I should have been sorting through. I was exhausted, and could do nothing but listen to Olivia and Elliot struggle to control themselves. What had happened to my life?
I heard Olivia's chair creak back. Her hair, messy from constant, tired swipes at it, seemed at peace with her red eyes, smudged makeup, and dark circles. Elliot's pale face reflected bright lamplight, his blue eyes struggling to stay open. They occasionally glanced up at each other, holding the gaze until one broke off, pretending nothing had happened, and there was no spark of love between them.
The clock inside my office chimed two-thirty. Olivia jumped, crashing on the ground with a hard thud.
"Shit."
They hated the clock I kept in my office. It always managed to scare the crap out of Olivia when she was working late and low on sleep. It was always Elliot who had to help her up, easing her back into the chair. His smile made all the pain go away.
I heard her stumble, grabbing the desk and swearing softly. She could have easily been a sailor, with that mouth of hers. Maybe she needed to stop listening to suspects, with all their threats of, "Mother-fucking bitch cop- --get your fucking hands off me, you shitting whore." Or, the occasional, "I want my fucking lawyer. I'm not saying nothin' until they get here. You hear me, you piece of law-abiding shit?"
Sometimes I wondered how Olivia kept her cool around them. With all the words she endured each day, it was only a matter of time until she cracked. Occasionally, I watched her rest up in the loft, curled in a fetal position that reminded me of a child. She was a scared girl trapped in a woman's body, sometimes. She wanted to run to the mother she never had.
But then again, who needed a mother when she had Elliot to go to?
Elliot kicked his feet on the desk, Olivia watching him stretch out of the corner of her eye. A file scattered to the side, as he carelessly grabbed it with his free hand.
"Damn," he said, watching the city lights flicker outside. "We need to go, Liv. It's late, and we have check-in at six. Want a ride?"
She smiled. "Sure."
I watched them rise, slowly and stiffly getting their coats. It's now I realize they haven't moved for over two hours.
Olivia's coat rustles as she pulls her hand through the sleeves. Without even looking, I can envision the scene. It's what they do every night around this time. Elliot suggests they leave, finally, and helps her into the coat. He guides her out the door, resting his hand on the curve of her back. She doesn't react anymore---they've done this for years, that it's just second nature.
But tonight might be different. I can feel it in my old bones.
Their footsteps stop. I close my eyes, knowing that the end for their partnership is near. My detectives are strong, but they aren't gods. They can resist the temptation to kill or rape, but they can't resist each other.
Olivia tries to speak first. Her voice her shaky, the words caught in her throat.
Elliot's only a few inches taller than she is. In the shadiness of the doorway, I know he's memorized by every single shadow on her face. I can see his hands reaching up, one resting lightly against her waist. She's hesitating, knowing that what they're doing is wrong.
But she doesn't care anymore.
Like an explosion, I can feel the barrier between them come crashing down. They've finally done what they were afraid and wanting to do. His face is on hers; releasing every bit of emotion he can through her lips. She backs against the wall, trying to keep some sense of balance between them.
Her hand guides him to her back. He presses against her thin body, the weariness in their bodies gone. I see stars in her eyes. His are glassy with tears, the two of them trapped in a parallel universe where their actions are not condoned by her sense of decency and his vow of marriage to another woman.
I can't bear to torture myself with this any longer. Slowly I rise from my desk, counting carefully to ten before throwing open my door.
"Get out," I snarl, scaring them apart.
Olivia's large eyes widen, as she runs like a scared rabbit out the door. Elliot swears quietly, briefly glancing up at me.
"You were here the entire time." His voice is hoarse, almost dead.
"What do you think?"
Elliot shakes his head. "I'm sorry, Captain."
I point out the door. "Not as sorry as Kathy is going to be."
"You'll tell her?"
"That's not my job. You're her husband, and Olivia just became your mistress."
"You have to understand---"
"I don't have to understand anything, Stabler. You made a choice. You aren't a kid, and I can't stop you from doing what you did."
"Please---"
I shake my head. "Nothing else to say, Elliot. Go after Olivia. Be good to her. But don't leave Kathy and your children hanging. Either stay with them, or be with your new interest."
"She isn't my new interest."
"Since she joined the force, you've had your eye on her."
"No."
"Don't lie to me."
He stops.
"I can't protect you two forever."
My words hang in the air, silent until we both hear Olivia's car rev up. It's his cue to leave, and find someway to pick up the shattered pieces of his life.
"See you tomorrow."
Elliot turns on heel, running out the door and barely catching Olivia in time. I hear the car drive away, and know that I'm alone. It's quiet again, the lamp by the two desks still buzzing away, the papers still scattered.
I ease myself back into my office. There's nothing more I can do for them. Only they can fix the mess they threw everyone into.
It was they who broke down their illusion, and let everything pour out into chaos.
A/N: it took me awhile to write this, solely because I was having issues with keeping the story interesting. It's one thing to write a small, 2-page vignette of Captain Cragen's thoughts, but I wanted this to be a complete fic, the next chapter in my Olivia/Elliot fics. I hope everyone liked Illusionary. I tried to get inside Cragen's head, and pray I succeeded. Tell me what you think in reviews. Remember, no flames, please.
Illusionary
A Law and Order: SVU fic
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. Olivia, Elliot, and Cragen belong to Dick Wolf.
Holding my last breath,
Safe inside myself,
Are all my thoughts of you.
Sweet raptured light,
It ends here tonight.
Evanescence: My Last Breath
It didn't take a fool to notice what they were doing.
I, Captain Donald Cragen, may be old, bitter and somewhat ignorant of the affairs of my detectives, but I'm not stupid. A blind man could see what Olivia and Elliot were doing.
Fools do anything when they're in love. I was young once. I remember being head over heels for a pretty girl. But I'm not so young and naïve anymore. I've had enough time to face my demons and try to conquer them. Compared to my experiences, Olivia and Elliot were just stupid kids doing stupid things.
I knew Elliot had his eye on her since she joined the SVU force. Years of scaling up the wall intensity had led up to all of this, now in the present. I knew Elliot's wife, Kathy, was suspicious. Anyone would be. She'd probably heard of so many cases where a detective fell in love with his dangerously beautiful partner. It happened all the time, and not just in movies and on TV. This happened in real life, not fantasy.
It started out small, at first. When Olivia transferred over, she was still a kid, the youngest of all my detectives. She acted beyond her years of a young cop, not wide-eyed and innocent anymore. She'd seen too many bodies ripped apart from life and too many tragedies to shake her. She was corrupted in the way a police officer is.
She was striking, eye-catching, and dazzling. Dark eyes flashed underneath a flurry of long lashes, one eye always covered by a lock of stray chestnut hair. It swayed gently below her shoulders, framing her porcelain face. She was too pretty for the male staff of SVU. I know if I were at least thirty years younger, I'd like her. But I'm an old man, and have no interest in pretty women. Dead ones, not live ones, floated in my world of sexually- abused victims.
Elliot seemed to be the only one noticing her. Munch was my age, and was interested in someone else, the identity of whom was yet to be revealed. Olivia was too young and bold for any man. It was no wonder she was always at the department, working instead of dating. Few men could put up with her. Elliot was one of those exceptions. It seemed a good idea to pair them together.
No one ever thought their relationship could escalate to this.
For a while, we all just ignored it, thinking Elliot was being a good partner, showing the rookie all the techniques of a good SVU cop. It didn't help that he was an overeager teacher, and she the ever-willing, too-smart- for-her-own-good student.
Even then, she didn't know how far he'd been drawn into her. But then again, she was part of the entire problem.
Day by day they faced some crime. Some incident where a girl was dead, by rape, molestation, sodomy, any form of sexual assault the assailant could think of. Everyone in their eyes became a victim. Elliot's children, their friends, and family, even random people they saw on the street. Anyone could be next in the ME's office.
Cop life can eat away at souls. Elliot and Olivia were slowly drowning in dead bodies, choking on the stench of criminals and jail. I would pity them, if I weren't already lost to the world of injustice and murder.
Elliot couldn't get enough of her, it seemed. They worked side-by-side in the morning, glued to paperwork until a murder called them away. They drove her car, driving all the way to the ME or hospital, depending on if the victim was alive or dead.
They shared parts of their lives as time went on. Elliot's own personal one was eaten up by his bread-winning job, and Olivia lacked a decent social life for a person as attractive and young as she was for her age. Elliot tried to be a father while on the job, and Olivia tried to solve crimes single-handedly, trying to repent for the life she gave up. Both had vendettas to prove, and many believed they would die to keep them.
Elliot wanted to keep his three young daughters and only son away from the crime-ridden streets of New York. He didn't want his daughters raped and killed, or his son driven crazy and thrown into a psych ward. He couldn't bear to see Kathy dead, covered by cardboard in an alley or floating down the Hudson.
But that all changed with Olivia.
Olivia and Elliot. Both good, strong names for people. Olivia's name was Greek, derived from the olive tree that Athena, the passionately wise and artistic goddess, gave to the Grecians. Elliot was the name of heroes, battle-savvy warriors, and men destined for a hard, rocky life.
Once Olivia came into the picture, everything but her disappeared from Elliot's mind. Kathy, his home, even his past vanished whenever she walked into the office. She was drop-dead gorgeous in the way that exotic movies stars were, in a coy, almost seductive manner. She would have easily been at home in a dark, sultry corner of Hungary or France, where beauties like her thrived. Instead she planted roots in New York, preying almost like a succubus on Elliot's mind.
They can't seem to function without the other present. Olivia, not bound by the responsibility of a family, is the earlier one of the two. She's agitated until he arrives, jumpy and anxious not due to a lack of sleep, but instead due to the lack of Elliot's familiar presence. Munch learned early to stay clear of her until Elliot arrived. Until then, she would snap if bothered, or pace around, her eyes pretending to scan a file.
She was trying to hide her craze for him.
Once Elliot arrived, the station functioned properly. Olivia could concentrate, and the other officers stopped avoiding the cranky detective. She remained calm, even suave when talking softly over the desk, acting as if her behavior prior to his arrival never existed.
Olivia had him wrapped around her thin little finger. Any word she spoke, he replied to. It was a normal routine, one that didn't require much effort from the two. Whenever he rose to get a cup of coffee, he would return with a steaming paper cup for her. When she needed to rest after three days with no sleep, it was him who drove her home, making sure she made it inside her building. It was her who he came to console in. Not his wife.
They just always assumed they would be together, as partners, as lovers. They were joined at the hip, and would remain that way for some time. They think I never noticed, but I did. I saw the way his hand lingered on the small of her back while they left for a case. I noticed when their eyes met above the desks, lingering until someone broke in.
Their hands casually brushing each other's in the interrogation room. The lack of restraint between them while investigating was infuriating. They couldn't control themselves around each other. It was just impossible.
And then she changed herself just for him.
Elliot told her, in an overly friendly way, that she was looking too much like a cop. The makeup on her face increased. Her eyes were smudged with eyeliner, looking dusky in the early morning light. Her lips were fuller, her face glowing. She cut her hair short, throwing Elliot off completely. One day, she had long, naturally dark locks. The next, it was short and auburn streaked. She was distinguishing herself from Kathy.
Olivia wasn't just his cute partner. She wasn't a kid anymore, interested in a man she could never have. The game of love was on, and she was ready to take action. Kathy was upbeat, blonde, and had held Elliot's attention for years. Olivia was shadowy, dark, and was catching his interest now. She crept up on the Stabler radar without much of an effort.
Their façade was a curtain waiting to be dropped. Any minute their love- nest time bomb would explode, and take down the Stabler family, the SVU team, even most of the tri-state area with them. Their romantic interludes could take down the entire department.
And yet they wanted to be together.
Noises now interrupt my thoughts. I know Olivia and Elliot are still here—they are always the last ones to leave, around two in the morning. There's a reason we have a couch in the loft. Some of us, including me, don't even leave the station.
They must think I'm asleep or gone. Or they wouldn't be talking so openly; so bold and promiscuous that it makes me sick just to listen. Don't they have sensors for this kind of conversation?
Their voices drop to a whisper. If my curiosity was full of any sense of morality, I wouldn't try to listen. But they are my best detectives. If anything happens between them, I'm bound to do something. Transfer Elliot to Narcotics. Send Olivia to Alaska. Anything to get them apart from this situation.
But instead, I listen.
"...My eyes are killing me...find anything yet?"
"Nothing."
"We've had this case for almost a damn month. Why can't we pin the father again?"
"Because he refuses a voluntary DNA sample, and Alex can't secure us a court order. Apparently, we have 'insufficient' evidence."
"That's bull."
"You and I know that. But the law doesn't."
"We both know he's guilty. Why can't we just bust him?"
"It'd be on our heads. Cragen would himself serve them to the DA on a silver platter."
I smile. They know me too well.
"I wish we could just put him away. His own daughter...he raped his own daughter. And covered his tracks by killing her. What kind of sick freak does that?"
"The kind we hunt down and put in jail."
"Doesn't anyone have a conscious?"
"Sex offenders don't."
I heard Olivia sigh. This was going to be a long night for the two of them. Elliot would go home around four, get yelled at by Kathy, and relive another day in Hell. Olivia wouldn't sleep tonight, and would twitch for about forty-eight hours before I send her home. But then, if she did sleep, nightmares would plague her. The bodies of girls we couldn't save in time would haunt her dreams. SVU cops lived in nightmares, not dreams.
Why was it so hard for them to restrain themselves? Mentally, I knew they were all over each other. But physically, they were tumbling down in an avalanche of regret. If I could save them, I would. But even now, they were lost to each other.
I watched him brush a tentative hand against hers. I could imagine Kathy sitting on the couch of her home in Queens, struggling to understand why her husband was never home anymore. She tangled with the thoughts of where he was, whom he was with. She knew he was with Olivia. She probably even thought he was screwing her.
Well, Kathy wasn't completely off mark.
I leaned farther on my desk, pressing my face down on the mountain of papers I should have been sorting through. I was exhausted, and could do nothing but listen to Olivia and Elliot struggle to control themselves. What had happened to my life?
I heard Olivia's chair creak back. Her hair, messy from constant, tired swipes at it, seemed at peace with her red eyes, smudged makeup, and dark circles. Elliot's pale face reflected bright lamplight, his blue eyes struggling to stay open. They occasionally glanced up at each other, holding the gaze until one broke off, pretending nothing had happened, and there was no spark of love between them.
The clock inside my office chimed two-thirty. Olivia jumped, crashing on the ground with a hard thud.
"Shit."
They hated the clock I kept in my office. It always managed to scare the crap out of Olivia when she was working late and low on sleep. It was always Elliot who had to help her up, easing her back into the chair. His smile made all the pain go away.
I heard her stumble, grabbing the desk and swearing softly. She could have easily been a sailor, with that mouth of hers. Maybe she needed to stop listening to suspects, with all their threats of, "Mother-fucking bitch cop- --get your fucking hands off me, you shitting whore." Or, the occasional, "I want my fucking lawyer. I'm not saying nothin' until they get here. You hear me, you piece of law-abiding shit?"
Sometimes I wondered how Olivia kept her cool around them. With all the words she endured each day, it was only a matter of time until she cracked. Occasionally, I watched her rest up in the loft, curled in a fetal position that reminded me of a child. She was a scared girl trapped in a woman's body, sometimes. She wanted to run to the mother she never had.
But then again, who needed a mother when she had Elliot to go to?
Elliot kicked his feet on the desk, Olivia watching him stretch out of the corner of her eye. A file scattered to the side, as he carelessly grabbed it with his free hand.
"Damn," he said, watching the city lights flicker outside. "We need to go, Liv. It's late, and we have check-in at six. Want a ride?"
She smiled. "Sure."
I watched them rise, slowly and stiffly getting their coats. It's now I realize they haven't moved for over two hours.
Olivia's coat rustles as she pulls her hand through the sleeves. Without even looking, I can envision the scene. It's what they do every night around this time. Elliot suggests they leave, finally, and helps her into the coat. He guides her out the door, resting his hand on the curve of her back. She doesn't react anymore---they've done this for years, that it's just second nature.
But tonight might be different. I can feel it in my old bones.
Their footsteps stop. I close my eyes, knowing that the end for their partnership is near. My detectives are strong, but they aren't gods. They can resist the temptation to kill or rape, but they can't resist each other.
Olivia tries to speak first. Her voice her shaky, the words caught in her throat.
Elliot's only a few inches taller than she is. In the shadiness of the doorway, I know he's memorized by every single shadow on her face. I can see his hands reaching up, one resting lightly against her waist. She's hesitating, knowing that what they're doing is wrong.
But she doesn't care anymore.
Like an explosion, I can feel the barrier between them come crashing down. They've finally done what they were afraid and wanting to do. His face is on hers; releasing every bit of emotion he can through her lips. She backs against the wall, trying to keep some sense of balance between them.
Her hand guides him to her back. He presses against her thin body, the weariness in their bodies gone. I see stars in her eyes. His are glassy with tears, the two of them trapped in a parallel universe where their actions are not condoned by her sense of decency and his vow of marriage to another woman.
I can't bear to torture myself with this any longer. Slowly I rise from my desk, counting carefully to ten before throwing open my door.
"Get out," I snarl, scaring them apart.
Olivia's large eyes widen, as she runs like a scared rabbit out the door. Elliot swears quietly, briefly glancing up at me.
"You were here the entire time." His voice is hoarse, almost dead.
"What do you think?"
Elliot shakes his head. "I'm sorry, Captain."
I point out the door. "Not as sorry as Kathy is going to be."
"You'll tell her?"
"That's not my job. You're her husband, and Olivia just became your mistress."
"You have to understand---"
"I don't have to understand anything, Stabler. You made a choice. You aren't a kid, and I can't stop you from doing what you did."
"Please---"
I shake my head. "Nothing else to say, Elliot. Go after Olivia. Be good to her. But don't leave Kathy and your children hanging. Either stay with them, or be with your new interest."
"She isn't my new interest."
"Since she joined the force, you've had your eye on her."
"No."
"Don't lie to me."
He stops.
"I can't protect you two forever."
My words hang in the air, silent until we both hear Olivia's car rev up. It's his cue to leave, and find someway to pick up the shattered pieces of his life.
"See you tomorrow."
Elliot turns on heel, running out the door and barely catching Olivia in time. I hear the car drive away, and know that I'm alone. It's quiet again, the lamp by the two desks still buzzing away, the papers still scattered.
I ease myself back into my office. There's nothing more I can do for them. Only they can fix the mess they threw everyone into.
It was they who broke down their illusion, and let everything pour out into chaos.
A/N: it took me awhile to write this, solely because I was having issues with keeping the story interesting. It's one thing to write a small, 2-page vignette of Captain Cragen's thoughts, but I wanted this to be a complete fic, the next chapter in my Olivia/Elliot fics. I hope everyone liked Illusionary. I tried to get inside Cragen's head, and pray I succeeded. Tell me what you think in reviews. Remember, no flames, please.