Elliot awoke to the sound of his cell phone ringing. He reached his hand out to feel on his nightstand, but instead his hand collided with a Chinese take-out container, the events of last night slowly came flooding back.
"Hmm," he heard Olivia grumble, and he realized she was still curled up next to him.
"Shit," he muttered under his breath, reaching into his pocket, his sole purpose to stop the annoying ring.
"Stabler," he finally managed as he fumbled with the phone.
"Where the hell are you at, man? Daddy's mad," he heard Fin's voice on the other end.
Elliot covered the mouthpiece and tried to pry himself out of Olivia's grasp.
"Shit! Liv, get up," he urged.
"Fin, I'm on my way," he said, slamming his phone shut.
"Damn it, Liv, I'm late. Seriously, get off me," he said, clumsily trying to stand up. His eyes were blurry from his contacts and his neck was cocked to the side. He continued to mumble obscenities under his breath as he tried to work the kink out his neck.
"Jump in the shower. I have your suit from the dry cleaners in my closet," Olivia mumbled, her face buried in the couch cushions.
For once, Elliot was actually glad he had picked Olivia up from one of her late night pity parties. She'd gotten sick in his car on the drive home one night. While Elliot's suit jacket had been draped over her shoulders. She'd apologized profusely, and, thankfully, had gotten his suit clean in a timely fashion.
Elliot showered and dressed in record time and when he emerged from the bathroom, Olivia was waiting for him with a travel mug of coffee.
"I'm so sorry," she said, sleep still in her eyes, her hair matted to her cheek. She set her own mug down and quickly tied his tie.
"Thanks. We'll talk later, I swear. But I gotta run," he said, grabbing the mug and squeezing her hand. She smiled, and he was grateful that things weren't too weird. Or maybe things were weird, and he was just in too much of a hurry to notice.
"El, what's wrong with your neck?" she asked as she ushered him out the door.
"You have the most uncomfortable couch in the five boroughs, you know that?" he called as he ran down the hall to the elevator.
Elliot quietly slipped into the squad room, hoping his late entrance would go unnoticed. He sat silently at his desk, removed his glasses, and squirted eye drops into his burning eyes.
"Stabler. My office. Now," Cragen hollered from his desk. Elliot groaned and stood up.
"Ten bucks says Stabler gets desk duty for being tardy," Fin said slyly.
"Twenty says he gets written up," Munch raised the stakes.
Elliot couldn't help but smile at his friends.
"You boys underestimate me," he smiled wickedly as he reluctantly headed for Cragen's office.
"Thirty says Elliot tells some sob story and they come out old pals," Fin countered.
Munch reached across the desk and shook his partner's hand.
"You got yourself a bet," Munch said peering over the top of his glasses.
Elliot closed the door behind him, he knew he was in for it this time. He wiped away the stray tears that were running down his cheeks and slid his glasses back over his eyes.
"You okay?" Cragen's voice full of concern.
Elliot laughed, knowing he looked like a wreck. Especially with his stiff neck and his head permanently cocked to the left.
"Munch kicked me and stole my lunch money again," Elliot smiled, hoping his attempt at humor would make the Captain go easy on him.
"Yeah, well, it's the scrawny, scrappy kids that'll get you every time," Cragen said, shaking his head. The two men looked at each other, knowing the real reason Elliot was sitting in Cragen's office.
"That's the second day in a row, Elliot. Wanna tell me what's going on?" Cragen's tone was even, but Elliot could tell he was struggling not to sound angry.
Elliot knew he couldn't lie anymore. Cragen was smart, Elliot knew he was catching on. He reached up to massage his neck. That damn couch.
"I was at Olivia's," he admitting, so quiet that Cragen had to strain to hear his voice.
"Elliot, now would be a good time to start explaining," Cragen said, leaning back into his chair and folding his arms across his chest.
Elliot chose his words carefully.
"She's had…a real rough go of it lately, Cap," he spoke slowly. "Someone she trusted let her down, she's been hitting the bar pretty regularly the past few weeks."
Elliot sat quietly, staring at his foot nervously tapping the wood floor boards.
"There's more to it," Cragen said, implying Elliot should continue.
"She called me. Every night to come pick her up. I'd drag her home in the middle of the night. I, uh, crashed here a lot. The drive to Queens is too far at two in the morning," Elliot said, his gaze meeting Cragen's.
He was surprised to see the warmth and compassion in his eyes. He could be tough, hard-nosed. But Elliot forgot he cared about all of his detectives like they were his own family. He should have come to him earlier. Maybe he could have helped Olivia out of her downward spiral.
"You should have told me Elliot," a hint of disappointment in his voice.
"Cap, it wasn't my place," Elliot said, knowing that Cragen wouldn't push him.
"She's lucky to have you, Elliot. I'm glad she can talk to you. But see if you can get her to talk to me. I need to know if she's gonna be okay," Cragen said, standing from his chair. He walked around to the front of his desk, leaning against it, his arms still crossed.
"Now, you gonna tell me what really happened to your hand?" Cragen raised his eyebrows at Elliot.
"That's between me and my bathroom mirror," Elliot said with a smirk on his face. Cragen just shook his head. "What about your neck?"
"That's between me and Olivia's couch. Which, by the way, is made of concrete," Elliot said smiling as he headed toward the door.
Elliot paused with his hand on the door knob. A wicked grin crossed his face.
"Hey, Cap? Got lunch plans?" he asked, turning around to face Cragen.
"You buying?"
"John stole my lunch money, remember?" Elliot snickered. "But what if I told you I knew how we could get it back?"
"Pay up, man," Fin said as he saw Cragen and Elliot walk out of the Captain's office together, Cragen's arm around Elliot, talking quietly so the other detectives couldn't hear.
"I know, Cap, I'm sorry, it won't happen again," Elliot mumbled apologetically.
"Damn it, Fin," Munch said, pulling out his wallet and removing two twenties.
But Fin wasn't fast enough. Cragen swooped in and nabbed the bills from John's hands.
"What's for lunch today, boys?" he asked, taunting his detectives.
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