Yay! Reviews! Thanks a bunch! Katydidit-All right, you can yell at the clueless detectives. Won't do much good for a few more chapters though. Lady Padfoot II-Writing is definately my passion! I have seriously considered it as a career. The only thing not so appealing is the lack of money involved, or so I've heard. I'm debating between that and maybe a legal career? But if I wrote and published a book, you'd buy it, right? ;) Lucky Ducky20- No, no more hitting Olivia. I just did that to set this chapter up.

This chapter isn't very long, just some more OE angst! Oh, and I couldn't resist taking Elliot's shirt off. He doesn't do it nealy enough on the show if you ask me... ;)

Chapter 3 - Love's Like Walking a Tightrope

"Liv! Hold up!" Elliot jogged forward, resisting the screaming urge to grab her shoulder and slow her down.

"El, I'm fine." She finally planted her feet on the ground and gazed up at Elliot, cupping her chin in her hand.

"Can I see?" He shoved a hand in his pocket, searching around for the Kleenex he normally kept there. Feeling his hand wrap around it, Elliot pulled the material out, still waiting for Olivia's answer.

"It's just a cut," she sighed, lowering her hand to her side. She looked up at Elliot with impatient eyes. Paternal instincts taking over, he held her chin with one hand and started dabbing at the corner of her bloody mouth with the tissue until it was clean. "So, will I live doc?" Olivia let the uninjured corner of her mouth curl up in a lopsided smile as she watched Elliot's concerned blue eyes study her over.

These were the times that made Olivia question whether their friendship was just that, or something more. She'd never met another man like Elliot, and God knows she probably never would. Every other relationship she'd had eventually fizzled out or just came to an abrupt halt. None of them had any real depth or emotion behind them, at least, not for the guys. Most had ulterior motives than just wanting to be with her. They saw a relationship as an opportunity to use her, just like that crime scene reporter she'd dated awhile back. How easily he'd played her like silly putty still angered her when she thought about it. Or if it wasn't to use her, he was in it for a one-night stand, after which he'd run.

But Elliot, God… Elliot, he was different, pure and selfless in his actions. He'd put anyone's welfare ahead of his own, no matter the cost. He was one of the people who genuinely cared for her and that always been underneath to catch her when she fell. In fact, it was one of those moments that the spark of something more than a friendship appeared…

It had been another day, another case. But this one, this one had crawled under Olivia's skin. It was really starting to eat away at her. A man they'd put on trial had tried to use genetics as he defense, that his genetic make-up was responsible for his actions, because his father had done the same things.

While she'd been waiting in court for the verdict, she felt like it would affect her too. What if the jury found him innocent? Then that would only further prove the one thought that had haunted her entire life - that she would end up like her parents. If genetic material were to blame for how we turned out, then she'd become a drunk and a rapist. Even with the guilty verdict, the thought still plagued her.

It had still been on her mind when she was in the squad room with Elliot that night. That's why she asked him if he wondered how his children would turn out. He'd replied with a shrug and indirect answer, prompting Olivia's next statement.

"Well, at least you know what you're passing onto your kids," she remarked with a sad smile as she tossed her coat on. "Half of my genetics are drunk and the other half violent and cruel." Letting that settle on his shoulders, she turned to leave, unprepared for his next statement.

"And look how great you turned out."

Damnit Stabler… How did he always know what to say to pick me up? And why did he always bother? She was content with thinking what she wanted to. His comments would only start an argument between herself, with neither side winning or backing down. And she cherished their relationship, whatever it may be, for that. For the fact that, despite what she was feeling, Elliot would never let her see herself as anything but perfect and wonderful as she was.

"Does it hurt?" Elliot gently ran his fingertips over the injured area, waiting for a reaction from Olivia.

"Hmm!" She mumbled in pain, jerking her head back from Elliot's touch. She brought her hand back up and cradled her chin like she had a toothache, sending a glare to her partner.

"I take that as a yes?" He raised his eyebrows and held out the already bloody tissue towards her.

"I'm fine," she asserted, yet grabbing the Kleenex anyway and holding it against the cut. "Come on. We have to get this over to Warner." She readjusted her grip the small white box in her hand, making sure she hadn't forgot it in everything.

"What about your jaw?" Elliot stepped in front of her, blocking her exit through the sliding glass doors. "Do you think you should see a doctor?"

"This is nothing," she sighed to hide her appreciation for all his fretting. She treasured the fact that she even had someone like that in her life, slightly irritating or not. "I've seen broken jaws before-"

"Broken? He broke your jaw?" Elliot's eyes widened, first in bewilderment, then fury. "I'm gonna kill 'em!" He stormed past her, picking up pace as he headed towards Perry, like a jealous boyfriend ready to beat up any guy that touched Olivia.

Olivia felt a prickling of worry tickle her stomach at his reaction, causing her to lunge out and wrap her arm around his elbow to halt him. "Hey Mr. Testosterone, hold up." At that, Elliot glanced over his shoulder, his previous rage dwindling under her gaze. "I appreciate the offer," she glared with a grin, each action canceling out the other, "but you didn't let me finish. I've seen broken jaws before, and this doesn't come close." She nonchalantly waved her free hand next to her mouth. "Just forget it."

Elliot stepped one leg around so he was completely facing Olivia again. His head tilted against his shoulder as studied her unusually patient face. "But he hit you!" Elliot foolishly started debating, the fact that he'd never won even one argument with her fleeing from his mind at the moment. "That's assaulting a police officer!"

Olivia's lips twisted into a partly irritated, party amused grin as she folded her arms, shifted her weight onto her right foot, and stood back. "How many times have you been 'assaulted,' El?" Just as he was about to reply, she threw another condition into the question. "And pressed charges against them?" Elliot's open mouth just hung slack at that, all his previous cases flashing in front of his eyes as he searched for some exception to his partner insinuated accusation. Olivia watched on, entertaining herself with his silence. "Exactly," she smiled, pleased at another victory. "Drop it," she ordered warningly, unfolding a hand and making an 'enough' signal with it.

"But this is different!" He knew it was a feeble statement in any dispute to change her mind, but it escaped his lips before he could stop it.

"Different how?" She challenged, still refusing to take any of his comments to heart or interpret them as insults. That wasn't Elliot, and Olivia knew it. Of course, it didn't make jerking him around any less fun.

"Because you're-"

"What?" She interrupted, shifting her crossed arms against her chest as a smirk crossed her face. "A woman? You don't want to say that," Olivia spoke in a teasing voice as she unraveled Elliot's 'plan of attack', step by step. "Then you'd be acting sexist. But, if you don't say that, you'll have to just agree with me. Either way, I'd be right, meaning you're stuck." With those three last words, she locked her eyes onto Elliot's, watching as the baby blue pools steadily lost hope.

"So there's no way to talk you into it," he sighed, allowing his flexed muscles to relax, giving more of a statement then question.

Olivia thoughtfully chewed her bottom lip as she pondered that over. "Well, one." She held a solitary finger up before closing it back into her hand. "If you tell me what's been bothering you lately, then I'll even let you slap the cuffs on him."

Elliot felt his stomach flip like an acrobat in response to Olivia's short, yet powerful sentence. Under her stare, he suddenly felt like a kid who just got caught sneaking a look at his father's Playboys, sweaty palms, shorted breaths, dry mouth. Though it did, should this really have surprised him? Eight hours a day, at least five days a week for seven years, without a doubt were they able to read each other's emotions. But damnit! He assumed there'd at least be a chance that it could also work vice versa. Maybe this wasn't a good thing to test that theory on.

"What are you talking about?" Elliot shifted his weight awkwardly from foot to foot, barely keeping his balance as he blew any cover he'd managed to scrape together beforehand.

Olivia didn't speak and instead narrowed her eyes in a 'don't-act-like-I-don't-know-what-I'm-talking-about' glower. When Elliot eyes darted around, seeking anything else to focus his sight on, she felt like bringing the back of her hand across his face and slapping some sense into him. She cared about him so much… But he was standing here, lying straight to her face!

"Nothing's bothering me," he shrugged indifferently, plucking the sexual assault box from her hand before she could pull it away. Finally meeting her stare, his was a forced blankness as he spoke. "Gotta get this to Warner," he held it up, flying past her towards the door.

"Liar…" Olivia growled to herself, frowning as her partner disappeared from sight.

--XXX--

"The Samone case…" Olivia moaned, shutting her eyes as she rubbed the front of her forehead with her right hand as her left one clutched a mug of steaming hot coffee. She absent-mindedly twirled it around, a reflex to cool the burning liquid to a tolerable temperature. A collection of folders grew under her arms, cases with paperwork that she'd long since put off finishing. The grunt work, number one on the list of cons for her job. She was dead on her feet and couldn't rack her brain hard enough to remember when they'd indicted the perp for this case.

But fatigue really wasn't what was throwing her off. She'd pulled an all-niter for three days straight before, only cramming in an hour of two in the crib each night. No, her real problem's name was Elliot.

Just forget about him for five seconds already! A deep, dormant crevice in her mind came to life and screamed in her ear. You're not superwoman! You can't always fix everything!

Fine, she snapped back, silencing the voice back into hibernation. He's forgotten… for now.

And she remained good to her word, shutting down every part of her brain that she didn't need to file papers for the next hour or so. In fact, she threw herself so deeply into it that she failed to notice as her partner walked up behind her.

"Liv-" Elliot only managed the one word before Olivia snapped to life and jumped back in surprise. Her hands flew next to her head, bringing the open mug full of boiling coffee straight up as well. The liquid was thrown backwards, meeting the bottom of his shirt, right were his stomach was.

Elliot cried out in alarm and pain as he felt the coffee soak through his two shirts and press against his stomach, burning his skin.

"El! Are you okay!" Olivia's sluggishness disappeared and she sobered up, watching Elliot with guilty wide eyes.

The detective's mind was elsewhere as his instincts and pain reflexes took over, drowning out Olivia's voice. Only three words made it to his brain stem. Get. Shirt. Off! Listening, he frantically yanked his light blue cotton shirt over his head, taking his muscle shirt with it. He drew both arms from the material until the bundle ended up in his left hand, leaving him naked from the waist up.

Elliot forgot about all other inhabitants in the squad room as he looked down to examine his stomach. A bright red, circular welt was already raising from his well-toned abs, the skin raw and inflamed. He gingerly ran his fingers over the muscles and burn, wincing as he did so.

"El, I'm so sorry!" Olivia was still sitting in her chair, a shocked expression on her face as she still held the coffee mug upside down, unaware of the occasional trickle that fell from the lip. She moved her eyes from his face downward, landing eye level with his stomach. Canvassing his six-pack, a grin escaped her. "Well, kind of. If I'd known it was that easy to get your shirt off, I would have tried it years ago." She barely attempted to stifle the laugh in her throat as she watched his cheeks start to flush a crimson red in embarrassment.

While Olivia was trying not to roll around the floor in laughter, Elliot swiped his blazer from the back of his chair and awkwardly threw it on as he made his way back to the lockers to get the spare shirt he always kept in there.

A few minutes later he arrived back in the squad room, wearing a twin of the dress shirt that was now stained and crumpled up in a ball next to his desk. He found Olivia getting up from the floor, holding a handful of light brown dyed paper towels. It looked like she cleaned up the remains of whatever failed to land on him.

Feeling a stare on her, Olivia turned her head to find Elliot standing by his desk, a new shirt on. He still appeared flustered as he took his seat. She scrunched the napkins into a ball and sent them sailing into the wastebasket as she pulled up her chair so that she was facing Elliot.

"I'm so sorry El," she sincerely apologized this time, no rippling muscles to sidetrack her. "You startled me."

"It's all right," he shrugged apathetically, leaning his elbows against the metal desk.

"How's your stomach?" There was a hopefulness in her voice that she hadn't burnt him too badly.

"It's all right." He felt his hand subconsciously trace its way to the wound, feeling the heat radiating from it through his shirt. He tried to ignore the throbbing as he focused on Olivia's face, for the first time noticing her swollen lip. "How's your lip?" He switched the attention to her.

At the mention of it, her hand shot up to explore the swelling. Realizing the extent, she frowned and curled her fingers back into her fist. "Swollen. How's your hand?"

"What?"

"Your hand." She nodded to his left hand resting amongst his huge pile of papers. The bandage Elliot saw reminded him that he'd scraped it up against that fence a few days ago while in pursuit of a suspect. It had totally slipped his mind.

Grinning at his and Olivia's game of 'who's got the most injuries,' he picked it up and made a fist, releasing each finger one at a time. "It's fine."

Acutely aware of the smile on his face, Olivia decided to take advantage of it to try and pull out of him whatever he was hiding. "So, I guess perps really love you and me."

As soon as Elliot heard the phrase "love you," his head snapped up. Instead of turning away once he knew what had really been said, he kept his eyes where they were, sinking into the beauty of Olivia. Before he could stop himself, his thoughts burst through his mouth. "I do…"

"What?" Olivia's smile never left her mouth as she heard an inaudible mumble from Elliot.

"Nothing." Elliot drew back from the desk and got to his feet. "I have to go get a file, or something…" He tripped over his own excuse as he retreated into a back room, leaving Olivia with one foot in his heart and one still out, hanging her in mid-air.