Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.
When they returned to the precinct, they could hear music blaring above them.
"What the hell is that?" Munch asked Cragen.
"I think it's Elliot," he answered. "He's been up there for almost an hour."
He looked pointedly at Olivia after he said this, and she knew what he was thinking. Setting her keys down, she headed up the stairs.
The music got louder the further up she went. She crossed through the crib and into the workout room. The stereo in the corner of the room was blasting the Beastie Boys. Elliot was on pounding one of the treadmills at the far end, sprinting hard.
Olivia winced as she got near the stereo and turned it down.
Her partner whipped his head around in surprise, slowing when he saw her. "Hey, Liv," he gasped.
"Hey," she replied, walking across the room toward him. When she got closer, she saw that his dark blue t-shirt was soaked with sweat, as were all of the exposed areas of his skin.
Elliot jumped down, mopping his face with a towel. He grabbed the water bottle from the holder in the side of the machine and gulped the rest down, his lips making a loud sucking noise.
She shook her head in mock disgust. "You sound like a baby pig when you do that."
He gave her a dirty look, sloshing the water around his mouth. She saw the mischievous glint in his eyes a minute before he spit water at her. Surprised, she leaped back, but wasn't quick enough to avoid getting wet.
"Oh, that's mature," she said in disgust.
She felt her breath catch when he flashed a dazzling smile. It was one of the rare ones that she had missed seeing lately…it was the first thing that had caught her eye when she had first met him. She had never seen such a beautiful smile before or since. His entire face lit up, his eyes sparkled, and his lips spread to reveal a row of perfect teeth.
The squad would probably laugh themselves silly if they knew about how Elliot spent an hour every night brushing and flossing, or that he had a toothbrush hidden in his desk drawer and would brush his teeth after eating anything….even something as little as a peppermint.
She followed him as he went over to the bank of lockers. The one he was using was hanging open. He stopped in front of it and peeled off his sweaty shirt, stuffing it inside and pulling out another towel.
"So what's the story on this new vic?" he asked.
Olivia had to make a conscious effort not to stare at his abdomen. The man was built like a brick wall…it drove her nuts. She knew for a fact that he hadn't done a crunch since he was in boot camp, and if given the chance, could eat an entire bag if Oreos in ten minutes.
She shuddered as she remembered the scene. "Not pretty," she said grimly. "Guy had an unpleasant meeting with a Heineken bottle."
He looked at her in confusion.
She raised her eyebrows. "Right up the ass."
His face screwed up in repulsion immediately. "Sick," he said in disgust. He started to say something else, but could only shake his head.
She went back downstairs while he took a shower. He came down the stairs ten minutes later, just as the captain was coming out of his office. He had a file tucked under one arm.
"Look, guys," he said. He looked at the wall clock. "We can't do anything more on this new case until I get in touch with the commissioner, and he's been in a meeting all day. Looks like you get to go home early again today."
He saw the looks of delight on their faces. "Don't get used to it," he said sternly, fixing them each with a firm look. They saw right past his tough act though; the twinkle in his eyes him away. He liked being able to give them a break whenever he could…they were the best team he had.
"Thanks, Captain," Elliot said, as they were walking out.
Cragen smiled weakly as he watched them leave. Sighing, he pulled the file out from under his arm. He briefly flipped through it again, even though he had already memorized it from reading it so many times. Shaking his head, he closed it and placed it on Elliot's desk before going back to his office.
The four of them headed to the pool hall after leaving work. Olivia had come along this time, as promised, and had pestered Elliot about going until he finally gave in.
She felt the tension of the day leaving as they sat around a small round table with a pitcher of beer. The hall was loud, crowded, and busy. It felt wonderful to be able to leave the pressures of their job behind for a little while and act like normal people.
"Who's up for a game of pool?" Munch asked. He looked pointedly at his partner
. "I don't even want to hear anything from you, man," Fin said. "You still owe me from the last game when you cheated."
"I scratched!" he exclaimed in defense.
"The ball bounced onto another table!" Fin said to the other two. "I'm sure it was just a coincidence that you got to call a "do-over"."
Elliot looked at Munch in amusement. "Is there even such a thing as a "do-over" with pool?" he asked.
Olivia laughed at the stunned look on Fin's face.
"You dirty cheater!" he said. He stood up quickly. "That's it….rack 'em up. We'll see who the real pool shark is around here."
She shook her head, chuckling, as they went to a pool table. She turned to face Elliot, sitting beside her. He was leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head, and she was pleased to see that he looked genuinely relaxed.
His electric blue eyes met hers. "This was a good idea," he said. "Thanks."
The detectives didn't stay too long, and they were careful about stopping after one pitcher of beer. They still had to go to work the next day. True gentleman that he was, Elliot walked Olivia to her car, even though his own was parked in the other direction.
He waited while she unlocked the door, pushing his hands in his pockets for warmth. His breath came in clouds of condensation.
"Night, Liv," he said, when she got in. "See you tomorrow."
She reached out and grabbed his wrist when he turned to walk away. He looked at her in surprise. She fixed him with a look. "You're out of your mind if you think I'm going to let you walk five blocks alone at this time of night," she said.
"Chill out, Olivia," he said, rolling his eyes at her. "Nobody mugs cops."
She fixed him with a fierce glare as she opened the passenger door, and he laughed. "Ok, ok!" he said, holding his hands up in surrender. He walked around and got inside.
"Thanks," he said when she pulled up next to his truck. He opened the door.
"Hey," she called suddenly, stopping him. He turned toward her. Olivia bit the inside of her cheek, staring into his face as if searching for an answer there. "You're my best friend," she finally said. "You know that, right? No matter what?"
Elliot cocked his head, puzzled. His eyes narrowed in confusion. "I know," he said quizzically. He stared at her, watching emotion cloud her eyes. "What's wrong, Liv?" he asked.
For a brief minute, she wanted to confess that she had seen him at the cemetery. But she chickened out. Smiling, she shook her head and shrugged. "Nothing," she said. "I'll see you tomorrow."
He surprised her then by leaning over and giving her a warm hug. "You're my best friend, too," he said. She hugged him back, breathing in the spicy scent of his cologne. It was a comforting smell. He pulled away after a minute and kissed her cheek lightly. "Nothing will ever change that."
She was stunned by the sweet gesture. Elliot had never been a touchy-feely kind of guy. He climbed out and winked playfully. "Later."
He got into his truck and watched her drive away. He wondered why Olivia had suddenly felt the need to remind him that he was her best friend. Not that he minded…it was just strange. Olivia had never been the type to verbalize her feelings. She didn't need to. They both knew how much the other cherished the friendship they had….they just had different ways of showing it.
A yawn ambushed him as he headed toward the expressway. He stretched one arm out, making the keys dangle in the ignition when he brushed them. A sudden light bulb went off in his head as he realized the keys were spares.
"Ah, damn it!" he griped. He had thrown his set of keys in the locker upstairs when he went to work out earlier. He had come downstairs after his shower and had forgotten to go back for them, grabbing the spare set that he kept in his desk as they were leaving. He had forgotten that his house keys weren't on that set.
Grumbling, he turned around and headed back toward Manhattan. So much for a decent amount of sleep tonight.
He keyed the alarm system outside and put in the password. The front door unlocked and he hurried through the dark halls toward the elevator.
Stepping off, he headed toward the squad room. He was unnerved about how creepy the place felt when no one was there. Pushing open the double doors, he took the steps quickly upstairs.
The squeak of the locker opening was amplified by the empty room. He reached in and grabbed his keys. The scraping against the metal echoed annoyingly. Pocketing them, Elliot quickly left the dark gym.
When he passed by his desk, he noticed a file that hadn't been there when he left. Stopping, he picked it up and walked toward the doors.
He made it two steps outside the squad room before stopping in his tracks. Papers fell from the folder he held, but he barely noticed. His heart leaped into his throat as he read the page on top:
Trial Date: March 17, 1976
Docket Number 3452: People vs. William Michael Sanford
We, the jury, find the defendant, William Michael Sanford, guilty on one count of first-degree murder. He is sentenced to fifty years in prison, with possibility of parole after thirty years.
Thirty years…Panic crashed down on him. Holy shit…holy shit! That's next week!
The tiredness he felt was gone in a second. His heart began pumping wildly, and he took off toward the staircase.