Drive
A/n: I'm being a good girl and hurrying! J/K! I've had writer's block!
Elliot knocked on Liv's door, knowing full well that the Goon Squad would be there. He knew that, but he couldn't stay in that apartment alone anymore. He needed to talk to Liv. Munch and Fin were great and all, but they just didn't listen the way Olivia did. He smiled as one of the "Goonies," as his kids called them, answered the door. "Can I help you?" he asked. Elliot didn't recognize him, and realized that they must have switched officers after Olivia left the precinct.
"Yeah, mind if I see my partner?" Elliot asked, flashing his badge. The man nodded silently and let Elliot into the apartment. He figured she would be holed up in her room, feeling sorry for herself, so he walked to her bedroom door and knocked. "Liv, it's Elliot. Can I come in?" he asked. He heard footsteps and the sound of the door unlocking. He knew her well enough to know that that was the closest thing to an answer he would get. He quickly opened the door and went in, closing it behind him.
"What do you want, El?" she asked, sitting back down on her bed. He went over and sat down next to her.
"I was worried about you," he said. She leaned her head down on his shoulder, prompting him to wrap his arm around her in a fatherly way.
"I'm sick of it, Elliot. I'm sick of people looking down on me because I'm a woman," she said.
"Who looks down on you?"
"Every person I've ever sent to prison."
"Who gives a shit about what they think? What matters is what you think," he told her. Some times it was so hard for her. He knew it was because of how her childhood had been. She'd never had someone to tell her that she was perfect. Her mother was a drunk, and her father was a perverted son of a bitch. "No one who counts thinks that you're weaker, or inferior."
"Then why are you all so damn overprotective?" she asked. Elliot sighed.
"We care about you, Liv. You're like a little sister to all of us, and we don't want to see you get hurt," he said, pulling her closer to him. "We all love you, Liv."
"Think you could talk Cragen into loving me a little less?" she asked, smiling just a little.
"No way in hell."
1234567890
Elliot opened his eyes to the sound of his beeper going off. He looked around and grabbed it off of the pants he was still wearing. He looked down into his arms, shocked to realize that he was still at Olivia's apartment, and that it was seven in the morning. Shit, he thought, getting up and heading to the door. He knew the Goon Squad would still be out there.
"Goodnight, Detective," one muttered, facetiously. Elliot shot him a death glare and ran out to his car, praying that he had a spare change of clothes in his locker. Once he was inside, he called Cragen on his cell.
"You paged me?" he asked.
"Yeah, we've got a body. Central Park at 97th. I have a feeling that you and Olivia will want to get down there," he said.
"Olivia's on desk duty…"
"Get her and take her with you. Warner's been instructed to leave the body until the two of you get there." Elliot hung up the phone and went back into Olivia's building, taking the stairs two at a time. He knocked on the door again, and one of the Goon Squad let him back in.
1234567890
"What have we got?" Elliot asked, as he and Olivia entered the crime scene. The Goon Squad had orders to stay back.
"Male, approximately thirty years old, shot and sodomized. TOD, approximately two hours ago," Warner said, not looking up. Olivia looked down at the body; something seemed oddly familiar.
"It looks like a drug sale gone bad. He had coke and crystal meth in his pocket," an officer said, holding up the bags.
"Do we have a name?" Olivia asked. Warner looked up at her.
"Carlos Gutierrez."