Author's note: I'm not answering any questions without my lawyer present.

Disclaimer: Ditto.

"I warned you! I told you not to interfere! It's on your head!" Jason was screaming at Elliot, who sat on the floor, bleeding from a leg wound.

"Jason, there are better ways to handle this. There are innocent people staying at this hotel. Did you think about them at all?"

"If he hadn't failed me…" he trailed off, pointing his gun back at Smith, who was also on the floor, cradling his right arm.

"You weren't fit for the F.B.I.," Smith spat.

"I'm more than qualified!" Jason yelled, waving the gun wildly, his hands shaking.

"Jason," Elliot interrupted. He swung his weapon back at the detective. "Jason, I believe you. You appear to be very athletic…and quite skilled with a weapon. But did you ever consider taking the quals again? Proving your worth?"

"You're talking down to me again." His voice had taken on a dangerously calm tone. "I hate it when people talk down to me."

He swung his weapon back to Smith, but kept his eyes on Elliot. "He always talked down to me, too." He addressed Smith. "Get up."

Smith stood slowly, gritting his teeth and grunting at the pain movement caused his bleeding shoulder. Jason took careful aim at Smith. The special agent closed his eyes, preparing for the bullet.

The gunshot echoed around the lobby.

Jason looked momentarily surprised, then dropped the weapon. He turned around slowly and found himself staring down the barrel of a smoking .25 caliber handgun. He gripped his bleeding side and collapsed to the floor.

Olivia stepped forward and kicked Jason's gun away, then quickly searched him for the other weapons he'd taken. She holstered her own gun, then went over to Elliot, who still sat stunned on the floor.

"Hey, you alright?" she asked, pulling his hand away from the crimson spot high on his leg.

"Yeah, he missed the important stuff," he said, almost crossing his legs at the thought.

Olivia laughed and shook her head reprovingly, then placed his hand back on the wound. "Keep pressure on that. He seems to have also missed the femoral artery."

She leaned over, gave him a brief kiss on the forehead, then stood and swayed a bit, still woozy from hitting her head.

"Liv…" Elliot said warningly.

"I'm fine. I'm just gonna check on Smith." This last was said with great reluctance as she moved towards the agent, who was leaning heavily against the wall.

"Agent Smith, are you alright?" she asked hesitantly, not wanting to approach in case he didn't want her help.

"He's a terrible shot," Smith grunted.

Olivia rolled her eyes. "The paramedics are on the way."

She moved back to Jason, whose wound was a clean shot through the side. Oliviahadn't wantedto kill him, but she wanted to drop him. She examined the wound visually, tutting and shaking her head. "Keep pressure on that. It's not a serious wound, but it'll still bleed."

He obeyed, having lost all anger he had felt.

Elliot, meanwhile, had used a nearby planter as leverage to get himself up. He was standing on one leg, maintaining pressure on the other with a makeshift tourniquet from a strip of his shirt.

Olivia looked over at him sternly. She walked over purposefully, ready to chastise him. She never got the chance as she finally succumbed to her lightheadedness.

Olivia was unconscious and in her partner's grasp before she even realized it.

She woke to the unmistakable sterile brightness of a hospital room. She shut her eyes against the glare. Her head was killing her.

"You'd think they would have friendly ambient lighting in these places, wouldn't you?"

She turned her head in the direction of her partner's voice. He was in the hospital bed next to hers, his leg suspended, a brace around his entire thigh.

"Would it kill them?" she asked gripingly.

They grinned across the space.

"Well look who's awake!" Curry crowed, walking into the room.

Reynolds was a step behind. "True heroes."

"Hey, guys," Elliot greeted.

"So listen," Reynolds began, plopping himself down in a chair. "Smith—he's fine, by the way—he says that graduation is today at 1700. That's in about…" he checked his watch, "three hours. He expects everyone to attend."

"He can go screw himself," Elliot said. "Olivia just saved his ass. I think a pass is the least he could do."

"We actually argued that point," Curry said earnestly. "But he insists. He says anyone who doesn't show has the pleasure of attending next year's seminar."

Curry and Reynolds looked back and forth between the partners, who seemed to be weighing their options.

"Son of a bitch," Olivia swore.

"…through physical and mental challenges, you made it. You should all be proud of yourselves for getting through this week." Smith, arm bandaged and in a sling, stood at the podium that had been set up in what had served as the paintball field earlier that week.

"So now when I call your names, I'd like you to come up to the podium and receive your diploma."

He called them in pairs. The partners came up, each received his diploma, then lined up off to the side. He didn't shake their hands, as his right one was out of commission, but he offered each agent and detective a straight "Congratulations."

"Detectives Elliot Stabler and Olivia Benson," he finally called, after everyone else had been announced.

They helped each other up, both a little the worse for wear after their week. Elliot's leg sported a brace, and he walked on crutches. Olivia's limbs were all operational, but she was still slightly sensitive to light and sound after her mild concussion, and was somewhat unsteady on her feet.

Elliot accepted his diploma first, then moved out of the way so Olivia could face Smith.

When she stood in front of him, chin held high, he merely gazed at her. Everyone held their breath to see what was going to happen. It was never a secret that he didn't think she belonged.

Finally, after the intimidating pause, he carefully pulled his arm out of his sling, holding out his hand for her to shake.

She looked down at it, the entire week passing through her head of how he had treated her, starting with that very first gesture on her part and ending with the sneer she had caught as she nursed her collarbone after taking a paintball for her partner the previous day.

She held out her own hand and gripped his firmly.

There were whoops and cheers from the onlookers as she accepted the diploma from him, and he congratulated her sincerely, then thanked her.

She couldn't keep the grin from her face any longer. She beamed victoriously at her partner, who enveloped her in a warm hug, losing his crutches in the process.

They all gathered for a group photo, and while everyone adjusted, Curry whispered something in Olivia's ear and Reynolds leaned over and spoke to Elliot.

"Okay, everyone, picture on three!"

He began counting. On "One," Olivia nodded discreetly to Curry and Elliot did the same to Reynolds.

"Two." Olivia turned and grabbed Elliot's face in her hands while he cupped the back of her neck with one hand and slid the other around her waist.

"Three!"

To be continued…

One more chapter, then I'm done, doo-dah, doo-dah…please review, I beg of you, oh, the doo-dah-day….