Olivia walked slowly into the room, stopping a few feet from the bed. She
stared at Elliot for a few moments, before he sensed her presence. Elliot
turned his head, catching her hesitant gaze.
"Hey, you," Elliot murmured, lifting his hand lazily to gesture her over. She complied, pulling up a chair and sitting down. She took his hand in hers, squeezing it softly and bringing their enclosed hands to her heart, resting them against her shirt.
"Hey," Olivia whispered, her voice thick with emotion from the stress of the past few days. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I've been shot," Elliot replied, chuckling softly before wincing in pain, deciding it was unwise to move even the slightest bit, for it jarred the right shoulder held by a sling.
"Try not to move, Rambo," Olivia scolded playfully, her eyes filling with tears. She cleared her throat slightly, stating, "This is a hell of a way to get out of doing paperwork."
"I was desperate," Elliot chuckled, stroking her soft skin carefully.
"I... I was scared, Elliot. I was afraid that you... that you..." Olivia trailed off, her words hanging in the air as she ducked her head down, somewhat embarrassed at her emotions.
"Hey, it's okay, Olivia. I'm here. I'm alive," Elliot said softly, squeezing her hand in reassurance to emphasize his point. "Are you okay?"
"I was checked out," Olivia replied, avoiding his question.
"Yeah, but are you okay?" he pressed, his tired eyes roaming her body for signs of injury.
"I'll live," Olivia said quietly, laying her forehead against the cool sheets. She let go of his hand, resting her uninjured arm against his stomach carefully, not wanting to hurt him but resisting the idea of breaking contact just yet.
Elliot brought his hand up to rub her back soothingly, running his hand across the tense muscles. "You're exhausted, Olivia. Go home," he whispered.
"I don't want to leave you Elliot. There's something about your blood seeping through my fingers that makes me not want to leave you for awhile," Olivia murmured sleepily.
"Liv, I'm okay. I'm not going anywhere," Elliot told her.
"She's not going anywhere either," a voice piped up from the doorway. Olivia glanced over, seeing her doctor from earlier behind an empty wheelchair wearing a disapproving yet admiring look, along with the Captain, Fin, and Munch.
"Busted," Olivia muttered, reluctantly forcing herself to stand up.
"What's wrong?" Elliot asked, alarmed, attempting to sit up as well.
"Will you settle down?" Olivia scolded, pushing him down gently with her hand. "I kind of ditched the ER so I could come see you."
"What?!" Elliot screeched. "I thought you were checked out! You said you were okay! Olivia, are you nuts? You're supposed to be in a bed? If I wasn't shot, I'd personally-"
"Elliot, shut it before you hurt yourself," Olivia interrupted. "It's okay. I give up. I'm going."
Elliot opened and closed his mouth a few times before finally saying, "I'm glad you see it my way. Don't think you're getting away without a lecture with this one, Olivia."
"As amusing as this is, I'm going to have to ask you to come with me," the doctor interrupted, gesturing to Olivia to sit in the wheelchair. "Your lip needs to be stitched again and I need to make sure your concussion didn't worsen when you were hit."
"Okay," Olivia replied, walking shakily to the doctor and sitting down in the wheelchair. She glanced at Elliot, trying to reassure him with a smile. "I'll be in to see you later, okay?" she asked, giving him a small wave.
"Okay," Elliot answered absently, watching as she was wheeled out.
"How you doing, man?" Fin asked, walking over to the bed, Munch and the Captain following his lead.
"I'm okay," Elliot replied, his eyes still on the door. "Why didn't she get checked out? Why didn't you make her get checked out?" he asked, bringing his eyes towards his colleagues, his tone somewhat accusing.
"We did," Munch said apologetically. "She snuck out and told us the doctor cleared her."
Elliot groaned, leaning his head back. "I need to have a talk with my stubborn partner," he grumbled. Elliot blinked, a confused look coming over his face. "Why the hell was her lip split?"
Cragen cleared his throat, glancing at Munch and Fin. "That isn't relevant right now," the Captain finally said, attempting to choose his words carefully.
"No, the doctor said he needed to check her concussion after being hit again. What the hell happened?" Elliot asked anxiously. "Was it Wald?"
"Wald died in surgery," Munch informed him.
"Then what the hell happened?" Elliot repeated.
Fin ran a hand over his face, taking a deep breath before exhaling. He glanced at Munch, who shook his head, indicating that he wasn't saying a word. The Captain seemed unsure of how to explain, so Fin sighed, telling him, "Look, man, you've got to promise not to freak, okay?"
"Just tell me!" Elliot exclaimed, frustrated at their evasive tones.
"Elliot, Kathy came to the hospital a little while ago. She and Olivia exchanged some words and Kathy punched Olivia," Fin said quietly.
Elliot stared at him, shocked. "She punched Olivia?" he repeated incredulously.
"Yes. We pulled the two apart fairly quickly. She only got in one hit."
Elliot leaned his head back angrily. "Son of a bitch," he cursed.
/
Olivia forced her eyes open, squinting against the bright light shining through the window. She looked around, realizing that she was in a hospital room. Olivia looked over, meeting the blue eyes of her partner. "Hey," she said with a small smile.
"Hey yourself," Elliot said with a smile of his own, reaching over to take her hand. "The roles are reversed now," Elliot told her with a chuckle before asking, "How are you feeling?"
"Better," Olivia replied honestly, squeezing his hand. "The doctor must have slipped me something to knock me out."
"Well, maybe he wouldn't have had to if you would have just stayed in bed in the first place," Elliot said, raising his eyebrows in a stern manner.
"I was worried about you," Olivia answered. "I wanted to be there for you."
"Olivia, you are so important to me," Elliot replied, hesitatingly bring a hand up to stroke her jawbone, touching her bruises soothingly. "And the fact that I know you were running around while you were injured scared me."
"I'm okay, though, Elliot," Olivia said softly. "What are you doing out of bed, anyway?" she asked, noticing his hospital gown and the sling that held his wounded shoulder.
"Visiting, and don't change the subject," Elliot scolded, though his tired eyes had a slight sparkle in them.
"Are you okay?" Olivia asked, taking in his haggard appearance. "You seem better."
"I'm okay. The doctor said I should be fine and will make a full recovery. How about you? What did the doctor tell you before you pulled your little disappearing act?"
"You're never going to let me live that down, are you?" Olivia asked with a grimace, resting her cheek against the back of his hand.
"Nope, and don't avoid the question," Elliot chastised.
"He said that I'm bruised, cut, and going to be sore; I have a minor concussion; that my wrist is now broken rather than simply fractured; and I needed some stitches in my forehead, which means I'll need bangs if I want to hide my scar. Other than that, I'll survive."
"What about your lip?" he asked, his fingers tenderly brushing over the small cut.
"Just a stitch. It shouldn't scar," Olivia said casually, suddenly breaking eye contact and choosing to focus on the wall.
"Before or after my wife slugged you?"
Olivia closed her eyes, leaning her head back. "I guess you heard about that?" she questioned, refusing to meet his steady look.
"Yeah, I did," Elliot said softly. "And I'm sorry."
"For what?" Olivia questioned, keeping her eyes shut. "I was mouthing off to her. Hell, I probably would have hit me, too."
"Nothing gives her the right to hit you, Liv," Elliot said, standing up to place his hand behind her neck, forcing her head forward so she would open her eyes and look at him. "Nothing," he repeated quietly.
Olivia took a deep breath, her mind telling her to back away. Their lips were only inches apart. 'Move away, move away,' the mantra screamed in her mind, but it was too late.
They moved together simultaneously, their lips meeting in a gentle kiss. Olivia enjoyed the feeling of his lips against hers for a few moments before pulling away. "Elliot, this is wrong. You're married," she whispered reluctantly against his lips.
"No, Olivia. My marriage has been over for awhile," he replied, pulling her back towards him; still, she hesitated.
"I don't want to be the person who ruins your marriage, Elliot," Olivia told him.
"You aren't. Kathy hasn't accepted my job and has been giving me problems for a year now. Our marriage counseling sessions have ended up in screaming matches nine times out of ten. I promise you, Liv, that this isn't just a bunch of bullshit. I care about you. I'd be lying if I said I'm not attracted to you. I would never hurt you, though. I promise."
Elliot pulled Olivia toward him again, meeting her lips again.
This time, she didn't resist.
"Hey, you," Elliot murmured, lifting his hand lazily to gesture her over. She complied, pulling up a chair and sitting down. She took his hand in hers, squeezing it softly and bringing their enclosed hands to her heart, resting them against her shirt.
"Hey," Olivia whispered, her voice thick with emotion from the stress of the past few days. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I've been shot," Elliot replied, chuckling softly before wincing in pain, deciding it was unwise to move even the slightest bit, for it jarred the right shoulder held by a sling.
"Try not to move, Rambo," Olivia scolded playfully, her eyes filling with tears. She cleared her throat slightly, stating, "This is a hell of a way to get out of doing paperwork."
"I was desperate," Elliot chuckled, stroking her soft skin carefully.
"I... I was scared, Elliot. I was afraid that you... that you..." Olivia trailed off, her words hanging in the air as she ducked her head down, somewhat embarrassed at her emotions.
"Hey, it's okay, Olivia. I'm here. I'm alive," Elliot said softly, squeezing her hand in reassurance to emphasize his point. "Are you okay?"
"I was checked out," Olivia replied, avoiding his question.
"Yeah, but are you okay?" he pressed, his tired eyes roaming her body for signs of injury.
"I'll live," Olivia said quietly, laying her forehead against the cool sheets. She let go of his hand, resting her uninjured arm against his stomach carefully, not wanting to hurt him but resisting the idea of breaking contact just yet.
Elliot brought his hand up to rub her back soothingly, running his hand across the tense muscles. "You're exhausted, Olivia. Go home," he whispered.
"I don't want to leave you Elliot. There's something about your blood seeping through my fingers that makes me not want to leave you for awhile," Olivia murmured sleepily.
"Liv, I'm okay. I'm not going anywhere," Elliot told her.
"She's not going anywhere either," a voice piped up from the doorway. Olivia glanced over, seeing her doctor from earlier behind an empty wheelchair wearing a disapproving yet admiring look, along with the Captain, Fin, and Munch.
"Busted," Olivia muttered, reluctantly forcing herself to stand up.
"What's wrong?" Elliot asked, alarmed, attempting to sit up as well.
"Will you settle down?" Olivia scolded, pushing him down gently with her hand. "I kind of ditched the ER so I could come see you."
"What?!" Elliot screeched. "I thought you were checked out! You said you were okay! Olivia, are you nuts? You're supposed to be in a bed? If I wasn't shot, I'd personally-"
"Elliot, shut it before you hurt yourself," Olivia interrupted. "It's okay. I give up. I'm going."
Elliot opened and closed his mouth a few times before finally saying, "I'm glad you see it my way. Don't think you're getting away without a lecture with this one, Olivia."
"As amusing as this is, I'm going to have to ask you to come with me," the doctor interrupted, gesturing to Olivia to sit in the wheelchair. "Your lip needs to be stitched again and I need to make sure your concussion didn't worsen when you were hit."
"Okay," Olivia replied, walking shakily to the doctor and sitting down in the wheelchair. She glanced at Elliot, trying to reassure him with a smile. "I'll be in to see you later, okay?" she asked, giving him a small wave.
"Okay," Elliot answered absently, watching as she was wheeled out.
"How you doing, man?" Fin asked, walking over to the bed, Munch and the Captain following his lead.
"I'm okay," Elliot replied, his eyes still on the door. "Why didn't she get checked out? Why didn't you make her get checked out?" he asked, bringing his eyes towards his colleagues, his tone somewhat accusing.
"We did," Munch said apologetically. "She snuck out and told us the doctor cleared her."
Elliot groaned, leaning his head back. "I need to have a talk with my stubborn partner," he grumbled. Elliot blinked, a confused look coming over his face. "Why the hell was her lip split?"
Cragen cleared his throat, glancing at Munch and Fin. "That isn't relevant right now," the Captain finally said, attempting to choose his words carefully.
"No, the doctor said he needed to check her concussion after being hit again. What the hell happened?" Elliot asked anxiously. "Was it Wald?"
"Wald died in surgery," Munch informed him.
"Then what the hell happened?" Elliot repeated.
Fin ran a hand over his face, taking a deep breath before exhaling. He glanced at Munch, who shook his head, indicating that he wasn't saying a word. The Captain seemed unsure of how to explain, so Fin sighed, telling him, "Look, man, you've got to promise not to freak, okay?"
"Just tell me!" Elliot exclaimed, frustrated at their evasive tones.
"Elliot, Kathy came to the hospital a little while ago. She and Olivia exchanged some words and Kathy punched Olivia," Fin said quietly.
Elliot stared at him, shocked. "She punched Olivia?" he repeated incredulously.
"Yes. We pulled the two apart fairly quickly. She only got in one hit."
Elliot leaned his head back angrily. "Son of a bitch," he cursed.
/
Olivia forced her eyes open, squinting against the bright light shining through the window. She looked around, realizing that she was in a hospital room. Olivia looked over, meeting the blue eyes of her partner. "Hey," she said with a small smile.
"Hey yourself," Elliot said with a smile of his own, reaching over to take her hand. "The roles are reversed now," Elliot told her with a chuckle before asking, "How are you feeling?"
"Better," Olivia replied honestly, squeezing his hand. "The doctor must have slipped me something to knock me out."
"Well, maybe he wouldn't have had to if you would have just stayed in bed in the first place," Elliot said, raising his eyebrows in a stern manner.
"I was worried about you," Olivia answered. "I wanted to be there for you."
"Olivia, you are so important to me," Elliot replied, hesitatingly bring a hand up to stroke her jawbone, touching her bruises soothingly. "And the fact that I know you were running around while you were injured scared me."
"I'm okay, though, Elliot," Olivia said softly. "What are you doing out of bed, anyway?" she asked, noticing his hospital gown and the sling that held his wounded shoulder.
"Visiting, and don't change the subject," Elliot scolded, though his tired eyes had a slight sparkle in them.
"Are you okay?" Olivia asked, taking in his haggard appearance. "You seem better."
"I'm okay. The doctor said I should be fine and will make a full recovery. How about you? What did the doctor tell you before you pulled your little disappearing act?"
"You're never going to let me live that down, are you?" Olivia asked with a grimace, resting her cheek against the back of his hand.
"Nope, and don't avoid the question," Elliot chastised.
"He said that I'm bruised, cut, and going to be sore; I have a minor concussion; that my wrist is now broken rather than simply fractured; and I needed some stitches in my forehead, which means I'll need bangs if I want to hide my scar. Other than that, I'll survive."
"What about your lip?" he asked, his fingers tenderly brushing over the small cut.
"Just a stitch. It shouldn't scar," Olivia said casually, suddenly breaking eye contact and choosing to focus on the wall.
"Before or after my wife slugged you?"
Olivia closed her eyes, leaning her head back. "I guess you heard about that?" she questioned, refusing to meet his steady look.
"Yeah, I did," Elliot said softly. "And I'm sorry."
"For what?" Olivia questioned, keeping her eyes shut. "I was mouthing off to her. Hell, I probably would have hit me, too."
"Nothing gives her the right to hit you, Liv," Elliot said, standing up to place his hand behind her neck, forcing her head forward so she would open her eyes and look at him. "Nothing," he repeated quietly.
Olivia took a deep breath, her mind telling her to back away. Their lips were only inches apart. 'Move away, move away,' the mantra screamed in her mind, but it was too late.
They moved together simultaneously, their lips meeting in a gentle kiss. Olivia enjoyed the feeling of his lips against hers for a few moments before pulling away. "Elliot, this is wrong. You're married," she whispered reluctantly against his lips.
"No, Olivia. My marriage has been over for awhile," he replied, pulling her back towards him; still, she hesitated.
"I don't want to be the person who ruins your marriage, Elliot," Olivia told him.
"You aren't. Kathy hasn't accepted my job and has been giving me problems for a year now. Our marriage counseling sessions have ended up in screaming matches nine times out of ten. I promise you, Liv, that this isn't just a bunch of bullshit. I care about you. I'd be lying if I said I'm not attracted to you. I would never hurt you, though. I promise."
Elliot pulled Olivia toward him again, meeting her lips again.
This time, she didn't resist.