A/N: I literally don't know what I'm doing here. Longer note at the bottom so as not to give away too much.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not the characters, not the title, not even really the premise of the story because Heart and Halestorm have beat me to it.
Olivia Benson always liked the rain.
Some people preferred sunny days, others a fresh coat of snow. But Olivia loved the way a shower or storm could cleanse the earth. Wash away debris, evidence, and her feelings. While most people avoided driving on rainy nights, she embraced it. Something about being tucked inside her car as the drops and wipers made their own music, it soothed her.
That's how she found herself driving down a New York side street. She'd gotten out of Manhattan, over the Queensbrough bridge, away from school for the night. Though she said she was a city girl and she'd never move to the suburbs, there was something about the rain that always made her wish for a simpler life.
She pulled up to a stop sign and spotted a man standing on the side of the road. He was near her age, in dress pants and a button up shirt and tie. She wondered why he was just standing in the rain. He didn't have a coat or umbrella. If she was in the city, she might think he was waiting for a bus, or a ride. The clear fall morning had turned to November rain, and people in the city were always leaving the office unprepared, not bothering to check the full forecast before boarding their trains to work. But in Queens?
She knew better than to do what she was about to do. Her mother's voice in her head, even at 19, threatened her not to talk to strangers. But there was something about him.
She pulled up to the curb and leaned over to crank down the window.
"Hey," she yelled so he could hear her over the drops.
He cocked an eyebrow at her car but came to stand by the window.
"Yeah?" he said, leaning into the car to catch a few seconds of reprieve.
"You need a ride?" she questioned.
He looked down the road, as if he was looking for something or someone before leaning back through the window and smiling.
"That'd be great," he said, pulling for the handle. "Thanks."
He got in, dripping wet, looking for a place to put his hands.
"Sorry about the mess," he said. "I didn't really expect to be standing out in a rainstorm."
"Don't worry about it," she said. "This car has seen worse."
And it had. Years of her mother throwing up in that very same seat, too wasted to drive home so the bartenders had called Olivia to come pick her up. Sometimes before she was even old enough to drive at all. She got a fake ID at 14, not to get into clubs or buy cigarettes, but so she wouldn't go to jail driving her alcoholic mother home from a binge.
"So, where can I drop you off?" she asked.
"That depends," he said. "Where are you headed, so I don't take you too far out of your way?"
"Oh, I'm just out for a drive," she said. "So anywhere, really."
He bit his lip and checked his watch before sighing and looking out the window.
"Mind if I just come along for the ride for a while?" he asked. "At this point, there's nowhere I really need to be."
Olivia didn't say anything more. She put the car in drive, turned the radio on softly and drove her familiar rainy path through Queens.
They didn't talk, but the silence was comfortable. She'd never felt this way, especially not around a stranger. Didn't feel the need to make small talk or keep a conversation going. It was nice. She was lost in thought and the emptiness of the streets.
"Look out!" he yelled from the passenger seat, just as she noticed a deer trying to make its way across the road. She braked in time to miss the deer but hydroplaned into the curb, and the pop she heard was most definitely a tire.
"Son of a…" she muttered under her breath.
"I'll get out and take a look," he said.
"No," she said, reaching out and putting her hand on his bicep. She felt a jolt through her fingers when she did. "I know somewhere we can take it.
She was able to inch the car two blocks down to an all-night service station she'd passed before on her drives. She parked under an awning and got out to go into the building and he followed. She was already yelling at the counter attendant.
"It's really going to take you seven hours to replace a tire?" she said. "What kind of 24 hour service is that?"
"Supply and demand," the man said, taking a sip of his PBR and flipping to the next page in Playboy.
"Look pal," her driving partner said. "The lady just needs a tire."
"It'll be done by 7 a.m.," he said with a belch. "There's a motel next door and you're welcome to wait or try to push your car home in the rain."
Olivia knew her face was an unhealthy shade of red. She threw her keys down on the counter.
"I'll be back at 6:59, and it better be done," she growled before stalking out of the office, and again, the man had no choice but to follow her.
They dashed across the parking lot to the hotel so now she was soaked too. They stumbled into the lobby where the night manager was snoozing at his post. She slammed her hand down on the bell to wake him up.
Olivia didn't care to admit that she'd been here before, more than once. It was actually a favorite of the college crowd. They charged by the hour and never questioned the messes left behind of beer bottles and pill bottles by kids way too young to be using them.
When the night manager snorted awake and realized they were standing there, she spoke first.
"We need two rooms for the night," she said.
"Best I can give you is one," he said.
"There's like 50 rooms in this place and you're saying all 49 are booked?" she said with a bite in her voice.
"Big wedding on Saturday and big funeral tomorrow," he said. "Room 205. Take it or leave it."
"We'll take it," her driving partner said, tossing some cash on the counter and grabbing the room key. It was her turn to follow him to the stairs.
When they got to room 205, he opened the door and stepped inside, holding it open for her.
"Great accommodations," he joked, considering the room was nothing but a bed, bathroom and a television with a cracked screen. They could hear something on the other side of the wall that sounded like a rager and not somebody going to a wedding or a funeral trying to get their beauty rest.
They were both dripping all over the floor as he shut the door.
"I did not plan on this," she murmured, trying to wring out the end of her t-shirt.
"Trust me," he said. "Neither did I."
"I really wish I had a change of clothes in my purse," she griped. "Wet denim is so unforgiving."
The man didn't say anything but instead went into the bathroom but didn't shut the door. He emerged with two oversized towels in hand.
"I don't want to think about where those have been," she said as he handed her one.
"Well, we could just dry off with them," he said. "Or we could change into them."
"Are you crazy?" she asked.
"It's either this towel or wet denim," he said with a smirk.
She yanked one of the offending items from his arms, stalked to the bathroom, and slammed the door shut.
She took about 20 minutes trying to get herself composed. She was soaked to her bra and underwear, so even they had to come off. She hung her clothes over the shower rod, tried to do something with her now tangled hair, and cleaned the mascara smudges from under her eyes. The towel was short, but not too short that she wouldn't be giving away a free show.
When she finally emerged from the bathroom, he was bare chested with his towel tied around his waist. His clothes were spread out on the floor in an attempt to dry.
She tried not to stare, but the man in front of her was too good to look away from. Every muscle of his back and chest was defined. His massive bicep tattoo of Jesus normally would have been a turn off for her (she wasn't big on religion) but on him it was sexy. As if he could feel her eyes on him, he whipped around and looked at her and she didn't miss the way he subtly licked his lips.
They both somehow found their way to the bed, the only place to sit in the room. The full size wasn't nearly big enough for the both of them, especially not clad in just towels.
"It's amazing how little there is to do in a motel when you can't watch TV," she cracked.
"We could do pushups," he tossed back. She pictured his strong arms moving up and down, supporting his body weight, and had to bite back a groan.
"We could talk," she suggested, and he tensed.
"I'm not really up for talking right now," he said. "Everything I thought I knew in the world kind of came crashing down around me tonight and I just… want to forget."
She understood. Although she loved the rain, that wasn't the only thing that sent her out driving tonight. The conversation she had with her boyfriend, now fiance, was crushing. She, too, just wanted to forget.
Her hand accidentally brushed his when he shifted his weight on the bed and she felt that electric jolt again. Brown eyes caught blue ones and she felt a fire burning in her stomach. The way the tips of his ears were turning red, she was pretty sure he felt it too.
"We could forget together," she said, deliberately taking his hand.
That was all he needed to hear, and then his lips were on hers.
Olivia had never had a night like that. Eight times in succession. She'd slept better than she had in months, curled up in his strong arms, cuddled to his chest.
She thought about how she never wanted to leave it there, where she was safe, and warm, and everything smelled of sandalwood.
Until she remembered what they had done, and who he was, or rather, who he wasn't and panic started to close around her throat.
He was still wearing his watch and she craned her neck to see what time it was. 6:30 a.m. She slipped out from under his arms and tiptoed to the bathroom where she quietly redressed. She was just going to leave but something inside her told her that just wasn't right.
She found a notepad and pen in the bedside drawer and scribbled a note that she left on the pillow in her place.
Thanks for a wonderful night. I'll never forget it. Please don't come looking for me. We'll keep this memory between us.
Then she slipped out the door and ran as fast as she could to the service station. It was 7 a.m. and her car was finished. She pushed some bills at the beer-drinking attendant and told him to keep the change. Then she backed out of the parking spot and never went back to Queens on a rainy night drive again.
Seven Years Later
"Mommy, is this really where you're going to work?" Chelsea asked as they rode the elevator up to her new floor.
"Sure is sweet girl," Olivia said, taking her daughter's hand as they stepped off the elevator.
The last seven years hadn't been easy. Getting pregnant and married while still in college. Balancing motherhood and the police academy. Money was always tight and tempers seemed to always be high, but somehow she'd made it to the Manhattan Special Victims Unit.
"We just have to drop some papers off with my new captain and then we can go to this little bakery down the street," she said.
"Can we get cookies and hot chocolate?" Chelsea asked, batting her eyelashes.
"Well, if we're celebrating, then sure," Olivia said, pulling her daughter into her side.
They found her new captain's office and dropped off the paperwork. She was able to introduce Chelsea to her new boss.
"Are you going to keep my mommy safe?" Chelsea asked him.
"I'll do my best," Captain Cragan said, looking up through the window into the squad room. "But, I can introduce you to the person who definitely will if that'll make you feel better."
Cragan crossed the room and yelled out into the bullpen.
"Olivia, meet your new partner, Elliot Stabler," Cragan said as a man in dress pants, a button up shirt, and a tie stepped into the office.
Olivia thought for sure she was going to pass out because she recognized him immediately. He was just a little bit older, with a new line here or there around the mouth, but it was the man she hoped she'd never see again.
She felt some comfort in the fact that she looked different. Her hair was in a bob now, with a red tint. Not the long dark brown curls she wore seven years ago in college. She was probably safe.
Her new partner, Elliot was his name, cocked his head at her before sticking a hand out to shake.
"Stabler," he said.
"Olivia Benson," she said, shaking with him. She felt the same electric tingle in her fingertips that she felt before and she swore he felt it too.
"Mommy, it's Olivia Messer," Chelsea huffed at her mother.
"Not at work, baby," Olivia said. "I still use my maiden name here."
"Who's this," Elliot said squatting down to Chelsea's level, even though Olivia wanted nothing more than to pull her down the hall and get to that bakery, as far away from him as possible. But Chelsea loved meeting new people. And Elliot's eyes widened when he got down to her level.
"Chelsea Messer," she said, smiling and shaking Elliot's hand. "Captain says you're going to keep my Mommy safe."
"Well, that is my job," Elliot said. "I'm her partner, for better or worse."
"This has been fun," Olivia said, pulling Chelsea slightly towards the door. "But we don't want to interrupt your cases. I officially start Monday so you can catch me up to speed then."
"Before you go," Elliot said. "Chelsea, I have two daughters just about your age, Maureen and Kathleen. And I have to say, your eyes are just so pretty. You remind me of them."
And that's when Olivia knew he knew. Chelsea had his daughter's eyes. Chelsea had his eyes. And there was no getting out of this now. Not when she had been working towards this job her entire life.
"Chelsea, why don't you go wash your hands before we go to the bakery," Olivia said in a fake happy voice. "Captain, could you show her were the bathrooms are?"
"Sure," Cragan said, leading the little girl out of his office.
"So, seven years ago all I got was an unsigned note, and today I get a partner and a kid?" he asked sarcastically, his fists balling at his sides. But Olivia wasn't going to allow him to take the lead on this.
"Listen closely, because I'm only going to say this once," she whispered but it came out more like a growl. "That night that we spent together was wonderful, but I'm in love with someone else. My husband, Mark, is a good man. The night he proposed to me he told me there was a 99% chance he couldn't have children, and when I found out I was pregnant he called her our miracle baby. I have worked damn hard to get here today and I won't let you or anyone else ruin that. It sounds like you have a family too, and I'm not going to let one night wreck either one of them, my family or yours. You can ask the Captain for a new partner if you can't handle this. Otherwise, nobody here or anywhere else can know, and I'll see you Monday."
Then, Olivia turned on her heel and walked back into the squad room, picking Chelsea up from Cragan and heading for the elevator.
Elliot stayed where he was, watching her, never breaking eye contact until the elevator doors shut.
A/N: I heard Halestorm's cover of "All I Wanna Do Is Make Love To You" like two weeks ago and I could NOT get this fic idea out of my head. Clearly it's AU. I also feel the need to put the disclaimer on that neither of them would cheat or be the other woman/man in show canon. It took me so long to write this because I don't condone cheating and I felt icky writing about them being cheaters. But it wouldn't leave me alone and here we are.
Haven't decided if I should continue this yet. I think it works as a one shot and I don't actually have a plan for a longer fic. Plus I don't know if I trust myself to take on a multi-chap story and actually finish it. But if you'd like to see more in this universe, please comment and I'll see what I can do!
