"You know, you really don't need to dress up just for little old me," remarked an exhausted Elliot Stabler with a sly grin creeping across his face. His partner, Olivia, normally uniformed in Dockers and sturdy shoes was quite breathtaking in a slinky black number that left little to the imagination.

"You wish," retorted Olivia. "One of these days, I am going to go on a date and not end up in this dump before the night is even over."

"There's nothing like being married to your job. What happened? Prescott's dinner didn't agree with him?" Elliot could not avoid an unmistakable hint of jealousy in his tone.

"Parker," she corrected him, "spent half the evening talking about how he and I aren't getting any younger, and how he is tired of feeling like he keeps coming in second to my work."

"So?"

"So what?"

"What happened after that?"

"I'm here, aren't I?" Elliot's face was sympathetic. "I don't know how you managed a marriage and four kids while working here."

"It wasn't easy, but look how great it turned out!" Having been divorced for well over two years now made joking about it much more sincere and comfortable. "Don't worry, Liv, this place isn't going anywhere-you will always have a job to spend your life with. Why do you think I'm here this late on a Saturday night?"

Olivia had no answer. No matter how long she had been a part of the Special Victims Unit, the reality of her life never got any easier to bear. She would most likely never lead a "normal" existence of working nine to five and taking the train home to the suburbs to a house with a real yard and a family inside. Instead, she remained in the world where her hours were spent chasing after the most despicable breed of criminals, only to come home to an under-decorated studio apartment with only the constant sounds of horns and sirens to help her sleep at night. Not realizing just how deep in thought she was, the sudden ring of her desk phone gave her quite a jolt.

"Benson," she answered mechanically, having done it more times than she could count. The other end of the line, however, gave no response. What sounded like TV static lasted for a few seconds, and the line was quickly disconnected. Still rather distracted by her thoughts, she brushed it off as a wrong number and made her way to the lockers to grab some sweats that she kept for nights like this one, which occurred all too frequently.

"I'll be back." Heading to the restrooms to change, she noticed that Elliot was staring blankly at the mass of files on his desks and had not even heard her.

There was something about washing the night off her face and peeling away her uncomfortable ensemble that made Olivia feel more like herself than anything else. Clad in only her underwear, she stared at her reflection for what felt like ages, not really for any reason in particular.

"Liv, do you have the-oh, sorry, I didn't realize you were, umm, I mean, ya." Both Elliot and Olivia were fairly reserved when it came to their emotions, and rarely had either of them blushed with such force. After quickly throwing on her sweats, Olivia made her way back to her desk, working hard not to make eye contact with her partner.

"Sorry, Liv, I, umm"-

"Really, don't worry about it. What were you trying to tell me before you...", she couldn't help her cheeks reddening once again.

"Right…that. I was just missing a file, but I found it. Oh, and your phone rang again."

"Hmm, I think there's something wrong with the connection-I've been getting a lot of dropped calls." She took a closer look at her partner, noticing the huge dark circles under his eyes. "You know, El, it wouldn't kill you to get some sleep. You look awful."

He didn't bother to remark, but merely headed up to the break room and collapsed on the couch, slipping out of consciousness almost as soon as his head hit the worn upholstery. In what felt like seconds later, he was back at his desk. The sun was in the early stages of rising, and Olivia was hard at work finishing the never-ending supply of paperwork that all detectives faced.

"How long was I out?" he grumbled, wiping his eyes and heading for the coffee maker.

"A few hours, I guess you really needed it. I'm just finishing up. Hey, I've got some slightly questionable leftover Chinese in my fridge. You interested?"

"Sounds good. Just me just grab my stuff."

Elliot grinned. "Liv, I think your apartment looks more like a bachelor's pad every time I see it."

"What can I say-I need to find me a good househusband to keep the place livable and put food on the table. Chow mein?" As she offered up the pungently aromatic take-out container, she noticed a strange look in her partner's eyes.

"I'm not hungry, Liv."

Nothing could have prepared him for the rush of emotions the he was experiencing. Maybe he was just lonely; maybe he was tired and not thinking clearly. Maybe he had just become too comfortable around his partner. Or maybe, and his gut told him that this was the most likely option, he was finally allowing himself to feel toward Olivia the way he had felt for so long. Whatever the reason, it wasn't long before an inexplicable force overcame him and he was pressing every inch of his body against hers. While clearly shocked, Olivia had very little desire to resist this unexpected advance. With an intense gaze of yearning, they melted into each others mouths, all the while Elliot was beginning to explore every sensual curve and exciting nuance of Liv's well toned shape. As their hunger for each other escalated, he guided her to the nearby sofa. With an intensity thought by both to be unattainable, the two united as one in so many ways. Collapsing after an earth-shattering climax, they laid, bodies entwined in a collection of heat and sweat. When he had finally caught his breath, Elliot leaned over to taste every reachable inch of his lover's glistening skin, only to notice her image starting to fade. Figuring that he had simply not gotten quite enough sleep, he curled up against Olivia, or at least tried to, when…

"Elliot? Elliot, wake up!"

"What?"

"Sorry to wake you, but I'm leaving now. I've got some semi-digestible Chinese in my fridge and a well worn couch that you're more than welcome too."

"Thanks, but I think I'll stay here tonight."

"Suit yourself. Sweet dreams." She leaned over the lounge couch to hug him, which sent a confusing quiver up and down his spine.

"Ya. You too, Liv."