challenge #9 rare pairs

"You have no idea what you're doing, counsellor!" shouted Elliot, following Tracey down the hall with his coat billowing out behind him. She snorted at the suggestion and tossed her curls over one shoulder. Heels clicking, she rounded a corner and pushed one side of the double doors open, entering the deserted bullpen.

"Shut up, rent-a-cop." She snapped back at him, heading towards his desk. Grabbing the topmost file from the inbox, Tracey flipped it open and began to scan the first paragraph. Elliot stormed through the doors, pushing them inwards so hard one bounced of the wall and the other smashed into a filing cabinet with a metallic crash. Tracey looked up, not visibly fazed, a calm if perhaps slightly sceptical look on her face. Inside, she was taken aback by this violent display. She was used to cops throwing their weight around and getting into pissing competitions but Elliot looked as riled as she had ever seen him. In truth, the glint in his eye and his heaving chest caused a prick of fear in her ribcage.

Elliot stalked over to Tracey and grabbed the file out of her hand, flinging it across the desks placed in twos around the bullpen. The papers flew out like birds, their flight short and fluttering. Visibly taken aback, she took a step away from the infuriated detective.

"Rent-a-cop? That's what you think of me? You have no idea, Kibre, no fucking idea." Elliot's voice was harsh and packed with anger like ice, burning and cold. Tracey's eyes widened at the vein pulsing erratically at his collar bone and the brashness of his language. She struggled to understand the situation, why Elliot reacted so badly to her comment. Admittedly, it was meant to piss him off but he was taking it too far.

"Stabler, I don't know what is up with you tonight…" She began, trying to be diplomatic and unafraid, the tremor in her voice betraying her nonchalant appearance. Tracey Kibre was not easily scared but this was Elliot Stabler, family man and good Catholic, two inches away from her and breathing fire. She steadied herself, looking directly into his eyes. "If this is about your divorce…"

"Oh right, blame it on my marital problems. That's right, Kibre, nothing's ever your fault. It must be someone else. Just cos you're too pig headed…" Tracey cut him off. Her own anger was rising rapidly, the bait already set by Elliot's challengingly close proximity.

"Wait just a minute, buster. If I need some NYPD officer chewing me out over a case he doesn't even understand…"

"I don't understand? A man beat up his male partner after they had sex! Not too difficult to comprehend. Or maybe this is a bit too close to home for you, Counsellor. Your ADA not performing her functions properly? Should I be checking her for bruises?" Elliot spat. Tracey had to stop herself from slapping him. He damn well deserved it. She took a step closer, her eyes taking on an equally dangerous glint to that of his own.

"Just because your partner doesn't even know you're there. How many times have you thought about Detective Benson today, Stabler? Three? Four? Don't tell me it's any more than that." She narrowed her eyes at him. "I wouldn't want you to feel pathetic. Maybe you're just not enough of a man for her?" Tracey smiled coldly, watching Elliot's fury intensify and then ignite like a spark brushing the surface of a pool of petrol.

Elliot snarled and grabbed Tracey's wrist. As his hand closed around her thin forearm, she twisted her body away from him, not caring about cracked bones. She bit back a scream as he pulled her fragile wrist into his body. Using her free arm, she elbowed him in the chest and he let her go with a grunt of pain. Tracey backed into the desk, knocking a stack of files to the floor where they splayed across the plastic surface and under the chair. She spun around and ran towards the closest door; an interview room. She turned in the doorway to see Elliot moving in right behind her, growling in pain and rage. Tracey, unable to do anything and still in shock, backed away a few feet but Elliot grabbed her, pinning her to the wall with such force that Tracey had all the air knocked out of her lungs. He removed one hand from her shoulder to slam the door to the interview room shut. He turned on her filled with the rage of an animal.

"Don't you dare talk to me about Olivia. You don't know the first thing about me and her." Elliot had loosened his grip on Tracey's arms, pinned above her head, as she gasped for breath. At this, he slammed her back against the wall and she whimpered in pain. It was such a pathetic noise but it seemed to snap Elliot back into reality. It was like he suddenly saw her, pinned against the wall, unable to breathe, helpless and frightened. He shook his head a little, coming out of his angry haze and his eyes widened in horror.

He released Tracey's wrists slowly and let her arms drop. Tracey cradled one bruised forearm protectively to her body, the one he had grabbed to begin with. It was swelling and purplish finger prints were already blossoming on her creamy skin. Their fighting had been so quick, so angry that now it felt as if time was not moving; every second a held breath and a sob.

Elliot, shocked by what he'd done, tentatively placed his hands very gently, as if he thought he could hurt her more by even the slightest touch, on Tracey's thin shoulders. Her face had dropped, masked by curtains of dark chocolate ringlets and she was sobbing very gently. Elliot caught sight of one crystal tear fall and land on his belt buckle before she looked up at him. Her brown eyes looked frightened, tinged with sadness, with none of the usual Tracey Kibre confidence and damnable stubborn drive. Translucent rivers running down her cheeks ripped him apart.

"Oh god Tracey…" Elliot whispered, lifting one hand sorrowfully to brush a tear from her jaw. She flinched at his touch. "I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry." He put both arms around her small frame with genuine care and held her gently. She hesitated for a moment but then Elliot felt her arms curl around his back, sinking into his warmth. She rested her head on his shoulder, allowing her tears to fall. She was still in shock, still scared, but she had seen something in Elliot's eyes as he'd yelled at her, hurt her. There was so much fury there but behind that, behind all the anger he was showing, was real pain. She had crossed the line. It didn't make it right but she had pushed him over the edge, into an abyss which no human being should have to endure. Loneliness. And she'd made him face it head on. Unforgivable, Tracey, and trust you not to know when to stop.

As her tears dried up, she pulled away and looked into Elliot's eyes. There was no longer any anger. Now it was all pain. For what he had lost, for what he never had, for what he was being denied and now, for what he had done. She saw the similarity between the blue in Elliot's eyes and that of her junior ADA. Maybe that's what pushed her, the thought of that much pain in Kelly's eyes. She reached her uninjured arm up and curled her hand around Elliot's neck, bringing him down to her level. Her lips brushed his as her eyes slid shut, carefully gauging his reaction. Elliot responded almost immediately, kissing her back as if he already knew her lips as his. Tracey allowed this intrusion, letting his passion grow, opening her mouth to him. She responded to his tongue with a low moan, unexpectedly starting to match his enthusiasm. She grew conscious of the presence of his thigh between her legs, his hips against hers. Somewhere in her mind she knew she should be outraged and sickened by the whole course of events but she didn't care. Inexplicably, she couldn't give a damn. Something was growing inside her, something dangerous and hungry.

His hands slid around her waist and he pulled her closer to him. He didn't want her to feel trapped against the wall again. Not again. He felt her nails rake their way down his shirt, softly at first but then harder, with ferocity. He increased his assault on her mouth, groaning as she bit his lower lip. He could feel the new heat radiating from her body, not from the fight but from arousal. He felt her legs close around his thigh, ever so slightly. Grinning into her kiss, he pushed into her a little more. He felt her moan into his mouth, a low rumbling noise that spurred him on. Pulling her onto him, he dropped one of his hands, stroking down her back and stopping at her ass, just covered by the short skirt. He was rewarded by another moan and a gasp as he freed his mouth to see to the pale white incline of the lust filled woman's neck.

Tracey brought one hand up and clawed at the back of Elliot's head, through his short hair, making him shiver as he bruised her skin with his mouth. She sighed as his ministrations brought him to her collar bone where he bit down gently, leaving a trail of red marks. Elliot's hands travelled up underneath her shirt, tracing circular patterns on her lower back and he lifted his head to watch her eyes flutter closed in pleasure. He grinned as he extracted one hand to cup her cheek and brush her lips with his thumb. Her eyes flew open and she trapped him in a violent kiss, smiling as she caught him off guard. Her triumph did not last long though, as Elliot tangled one hand in her dark curls and used the other to guide her hips towards him. As her smooth stomach touched his shirt front, he thrust his thigh upwards, hitting her centre. She cried out but the noise was lost in his mouth.

Tracey felt so much and yet so little. Physically she was being driven insane by this tall, muscular man but mentally she was still battling the emotions she felt. She was Kelly's. This was wrong. She knew she should pull away, quit now while she had some semblance of independent thought. But she hadn't been with a man since stepping up her relationship with the blonde ADA. She'd never cheated on her. It must have been months. Maybe a year, in reality. And the feeling of his broad, muscular chest and his strong arms holding her above him was so good. So different to the feeling of Kelly writhing beneath her; his skin so rough and hers so smooth. At the back of her mind was a persistent voice saying 'He needs this. You want it and he needs it. It's the way you are. The way you were made' Tracey didn't want to listen but her body told her it was right. Her mind said no but her body said yes, oh God, yes.

Elliot had taken Tracey's moments of rapture to undo the front of her shirt. He pulled away from her to look deep into her lust clouded eyes. So dark. Savage. He nudged her skirt up a little further and slipped his hand underneath. He could feel her excitement, her heat. She was still grinding against him, slowly, eyes holding the tenuous connection for all she was worth. He bent his head and licked a straight line from between her heaving breasts, up her neck and to her mouth. As his lips closed over hers, his hand ripped aside the wet fabric and he plunged two fingers into her.

The staggering blend of the sensations was too much for Tracey. Her body won out. She bucked on his thigh and kissed him deeply as his hand worked frenetically between them. Her head dropped back against the wall and she screamed in ecstasy. Elliot swiped his thumb across her clit and sent her over the edge.

"Elliot!" She cried, her voice cracked and hoarse. Elliot leaned into her, supporting her as she shuddered in waves of pleasure. Rocking slowly, she began to come down from her intense high. Throbbing with the after effects of her orgasm, Tracey sighed, resting her forehead on Elliot's shoulder, dark coffee curls shifting across her back. Her wrist was sore and her head buzzed with pleasure and the oncoming crush of guilt. Elliot murmured something in her ear, something calm and loving, but Tracey's mind was already ripping out pictures of Kelly to play behind her eyes with savage satisfaction. She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed for forgiveness.

Elliot felt her breathing slowly become even. Holding Tracey to him, he smiled in amazement at what he'd found. Nothing was certain and he didn't want to mentally arrange what had happened but not once had he thought of Olivia. Something, if only for a minute or two, had changed and he felt like the shackles he'd been wearing for years had been loosened, if not released completely.

He kissed the soft spot right next to her ear and whispered without the touch of pain and suffering, only freely and gently.

"Tracey."