Across the Queensboro bridge, Elliot couldn't sleep, knowing Olivia was tucked away in her apartment for the evening. Elliot took that as a reason not to call. After all, Olivia was entertaining Casey for the evening, and that was a feat in itself. When Casey Novak isn't dressed in pantsuits and crisp-ironed blouses, she is a wild child. It often left Elliot wondering how she made it to Harvard Law and passed the bar exam.

Nonetheless, it left him uncomfortably awake. He needed to sleep for his sake and hers. Being bleary-eyed behind the wheel of a squad car could have him riding a desk for a week.

It was a little after midnight when Elliot's phone vibrated across his night table. He didn't bother looking at the caller ID, thinking it was the station house.

Maybe there had finally been a break in the case of Olejandra Novelo, or perhaps it was an update about where Tommy the two-year-old ended up after all. All assumptions aside, he picked up the phone and held it to his ear.

"Stabler," he answered sternly, expecting Cragen's authoritative voice on the other line.

"I hope I didn't wake you," the feminine voice started, "I just really needed to hear your voice right now."

"Liv, what's wrong?" his voice grew of concern, "Are you alright, Livia?"

"Casey left a little while ago; I've had a lot on my mind."

"So have I. Can I see you?" he asked, jumping out of bed and throwing on the closest pair of pants he could find, "I'll come and get you—"

"I'm already here."

Elliot's eyes widened as her confession verberated from the phone. She must have found the sticky note on the fridge yesterday morning before her appearance at the 1-6, but that was an even bigger surprise.

"I'll be right there." he hurried, snapping the phone shut. The thunder began to roll again, and leaves swam in and out of the streets in a frenzy. He'll be damned if he let her get caught out in the October storm.

When he opened the door, there she stood. Her tennis shoes contrasted heavily to the pajama pants that hung loosely around his hips.

He smiled, "Come on in," he urged her inside with a hand at the small of her back. Tension and strain riddled her body, the muscles encompassing her spine he felt told him that much.

Olivia grabbed hold of Elliot's cheek and guided him to her lips, kissing him sweetly.

"You didn't drive over here just to give me a kiss goodnight, did you?" Elliot grinned. He saw a glint in her eye, a familiar one.

"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't." She teased half-heartedly, "I told Casey about you, in not so many words," She confessed.

"What did you tell her?" he inquired.

"That I found my Marine," he could see the tears in her eyes when she spoke, "She was happy for me, then said if it didn't work out with him after all, she'd set me up with you." Oliva chuckled, splaying an icy hand over his bare chest.

"Ha," Elliot joked, "Like I'd have a chance with a woman as beautiful as you," he kissed her again, "Munch knows."

He was trying to read what she was thinking. A lip twitch, a nostril flare, anything that indicated that she wasn't happy that Munch knew they had a history, "He knows, Liv. About before. I showed him your picture when you were singing on stage the other night."

Maybe she didn't care that Munch knew, or perhaps something else was sending her mind down the spiral staircase.

"I hope he's not teasing you about it."

"Nothing I can't handle. The old bastard's just bored." Elliot chuckled.

"Or maybe he's a hopeless romantic…." Olivia proposed.

"He's got four divorces under his belt, Liv."

"Maybe that's why he kept trying." She suggested.

"Or maybe he was tired of being alone."

Maybe Munch was a hopeless romantic, and maybe he was tired of being alone. John didn't marry for children; that much about him was clear. The two detectives stood motionless in the foyer, thinking whether or not they were still talking about their senior detective.

"He was in love." Olivia offered, "Isn't that why you got married, because you were in love?"

"I don't know if I'd call it love." Elliot squinted, "What did Casey tell you?"

"Busted." Olivia mused. Casey volunteered enough information to generate a composite of what Elliot's former life entailed. She wanted to hear it from him.

"That you tried to make it work."

"It was easy at first. I'd only known Kathy for five months when I asked her to marry me. I thought maybe she was my second shot at finding someone to share my life with. I thought she and I would quarrel in rocking chairs at eighty years old."

If at the end of his career, if he was still alive and kept his pension, that was the life Elliot Stabler wanted. To spend the rest of his life falling head-over-heels in love with the woman he married.

"What happened?" Elliot looked at her hesitantly, feeling the knot build in his throat, when she spoke, "You can talk to me, Elliot."

"It took me years to realize that she wasn't my second chance, Livia," he mournfully sighed, "She was my second choice."

"El—"

"You were my first choice, always," he abrupted, "And it took me until yesterday to realize I had a second chance," the shock of his words panicked him, but they rang true, "I don't want to screw up. I don't wanna throw and fit, and the next thing I know, your desk is empty."

"Mountains don't move in a day, El," her lip quivered, watching him fall apart, "If you hold onto this rage any longer, it's gonna kill you," Olivia's tears pooled against her waterline, "I'm here, you're here, we're here. Together."

"I'm glad you're here," he whispered, closing the gap between them again, wildly pushing Olivia's sweatshirt off her shoulders and onto the wood beneath both of their feet. He pressed her against his front door and used his hand to soften the blow to her head from his sudden force. Elliot pulled her leg up over his hip and deepened their attachment. She moaned, feeling his erection against the innermost part of her thigh.

They had haphazardly made it to her bed the last time, but she wasn't so sure they'd make it into his. More than likely, his was the long flight of stairs upon first entry into his home.

"Fuck the stairs, just fuck me now." Olivia thought

Elliot blindly guided them over to the couch, reaching for the hem of her t-shirt. Elliot tossed the garment over her head, and in a blink of an eye, she was completely topless, to his delight.

"So fucking, sexy," he breathed, kissing and nipping at the height of her chest, his nose brushing the Marine necklace.

The only thing separating their sexes were layers of useless articles of clothing and time. Elliot wrangled the skintight leggings over her hips and the swell of her ass when an additional discovery was made.

She's not wearing any underwear.

Olivia's cheeks flushed, watching him under her in awe of her presentation, "I believe you're still overdressed, El." Elliot raised his hips off the couch to assist. His nightwear made it to his knees before she pushed them off the rest of the way with her foot. To her delight, he was commando.

She was in control tonight. Her presence and sultry smile were enough to know that he was in for it. Elliot took himself in his hand and thrust into her heat, quicker than Olivia could anticipate. A struggled moan left her body, still lip-locked to Elliot.

"Yes." She hissed, Elliot's hands planted at her ass-cheeks, helping steady the hurried rhythm she chose at the start. He loved the way she fit perfectly around him again. He loved how he could reach the depths of her at an angle like this. Olivia's breasts bounced with each thrust she met to his hips, and again the beginning of her orgasm was starting. The fever rose in her thighs, and her lower half began to shake, but this time it was different. Amazingly different. Elliot hugged her body above his and guided her into her final moments before she went into complete ecstasy.

"Cum Livia, cum for me," Elliot coaxed, breathlessly into her ear, "Let go," he released a hand from her damp back and used his thumb to circle her clit. She didn't try to muffle her screams when Elliot spurted inside her warm body and made her ride it out until she was entirely spent. Wetness grew underneath him. He knew she felt the puddle on his legs. Olivia bit her lip, grasping for any stability. She recognized the mess she had made below her and tried to comprehend what had just happened. Olivia lifted off his hips and fell into his side on the couch. She was distraught at what her body had done.

"Did I just—"

Elliot interrupted, "I think you did, baby," he was equally shocked as she was, watching the milky white liquid drip down his groin. Female Ejaculation. A phenomenon that he only heard about in the Marine Corp and discussed once in the bullpen years ago during a very unusual case.

"That's never happened to me before—I thought it was a myth."

He kissed her damp chest, "Yeah, well, you just made me a believer."

The proof glistened between her legs, and Elliot was dying for a taste. Before she could protest, he peeled himself off the couch and bowed on the carpet infront of her, "El—," she gasped.

Inches from her essence, Elliot meets her eyes, "Just cleaning up, sweetheart." he licks up her folds, Olivia's sweetness coating his tongue.

She had barely recovered from her last orgasm, and here he was working to give her another, "Elliot," Olivia groaned, his lips covering her sensitive bundle of nerves, "If you're looking for a round-two, you're gonna get it."

"Bring it on, Benson."

The week had reached its eventful end. The lovers had spent every night together, with or without unhinged-animalistic sex. After countless hours of being pestered by her coworkers for another song, Olivia gave in and then gave it her all. She promised Munch a song at Flannigan's come later that Sunday evening. Hearing Olivia faintly hum a tune brought a smile to Elliot's face. Piece by piece, brick by brick, she was bringing him just back to where he needed to be. They were packing up, ready to ship out once again into the night, when Cragen quietly guided Elliot into his office.

"Elliot, a minute of your time."

He had just finished draping his leather jacket over his arm, "What's up, Cap?"

"How are things working out with Olivia?"

"Good. She is good with the victims and can hold her own. It's all I can ever ask for in a partner."

"That's good," Cragen quipped, "How much do you know about her?"

"I could write a trilogy, and then some," Elliot thought

"Enough. Why?"

"Do you understand why half of her file is blank?"

Elliot gulped, teetering between whether or not he should lie or tell the truth. He knew why. It was one of the first things he ever learned about Olivia.

1982

School had let out for the day, but neither of them wanted to go home just yet. To save themselves from the brutality they would face the second either one of them walked in the door. Elliot's father Joe was a cop, not a great one but a good one, but last night Joe Stabler laid into him for something that wasn't his fault. Elliot's younger sister Sarah was late for curfew, and because she wasn't home by ten o'clock, Elliot got the crap kicked out of him.

They sat on the swings, just happy to be in the company of someone who understood.

"My mother was raped."

It was unexpected and out of the blue. A confession like that needed a build-up or a transition, but there she sat emotionless as her feet swayed above the mulch.

"When?" he asked gravely. He was afraid to hear anymore but listened to her anyway.

"About sixteen years ago…" she paused, "A man attacked her when she was walking home from Hudson, and nine months later, I came along."

Elliot reached for her bruised hand to offer her some kind of comfort or solace.

She felt dirty. Like she was a side-show act of a circus that just made headliner.

If it hadn't been for that night, she wouldn't exist.

She ruined her mother's life.

Elliot got off the swing and pressed a firm kiss to her lips. Just like that, he kissed her. She looked at him, perplexed and startled.

"It doesn't change a thing."

Present

Elliot admitted, "Yeah. She told me." he stuck his hands in his pockets uncomfortably.

"Just watch out for her. She's a strong woman, that much I do know, but I have a feeling that maybe she'll get too close to a case one day. I don't wanna see that girl fall apart, capeesh?"

"Capeesh." he stated, "Are you meeting us at Flannigan's later?"

"You bet. Wouldn't miss our girl for the world." Cragen grinned.

Having a live band that night at Flannigan's was a treat. It was a pleasant surprise, instead of the awkward audio soundtrack that typically played to accompany the performers. Not being completely alone on stage was comforting. Especially when five familiar pairs of eyes were watching her below. The owner gave her a warm introduction, followed by an eruption of clapping and howling. She peered at Elliot, resting comfortably in his turned-around seat. He ditched his work tie at the precinct and opted for a few open buttons, exposing a portion of his hard planned chest. He looked just as good in his work clothes as he did without a stitch. Sexy.

Olivia grabbed the microphone and paced the stage, opening with her signature monologue, "Alright, so this song goes out to my entourage for the evening," she gestured out into the crowd, "Starting over in an unfamiliar place with new people is hard. But they make it easy. Can I get a hand for my brothers in blue?" The audience clapped and cheered at her word, "Let's get this show on the road!" With a click of a drum stick, the love ballad commenced.

Clock strikes upon the hour

And the sun begins to fade

Still enough time to figure out

How to chase my blues away

I've done alright up 'til now

It's the light of day that shows me how

And when the night falls

Loneliness calls

It was a song that used to play continuously on the radio back when they were young enough to have braces. Elliot couldn't help but smile, remembering her mezzo-soprano voice over the song during one of their many adventures after he got his license. The audience around their table swayed in their respected seats; a few supporters got up from their tables and began dancing on the free open floor.

I need a man who'll take a chance

On a love that burns hot enough to last

So when the night falls

My lonely heart calls

Oh, I wanna dance with somebody

I wanna feel the heat with somebody

Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody

With somebody who loves me...

Olivia had long forgotten the detectives ten feet away, seeing as they themselves had gotten lost in the music too. Before she knew it, she finished the song. The owner, Jerry, had greeted her up onstage once again. "Thank you, for blessing our ears once again this evening, Olivia. Which gentlemen out there do you trust knows you the best?"

"Elliot. My partner." she gleamed, seeing Elliot turn all shades of pink.

Jerry clapped his hands together, "Come on up, Elliot! We're gonna play a game."

Elliot was reeling, being put on display in such a dramatic way. It was a rush, but he takes a seat beside Olivia and is handed a small dry-erase board with a marker.

"I will ask a question directed at you or your partner, and it is your job to match your answers. If you manage to correct all six questions, drinks are on the house tonight for your table. You game?"

Olivia and Elliot nodded. He didn't know why he was so nervous being next to his partner now. It's not like they were going to do anything wrong. Were they?

"First Question. Olivia, if your partner got a dream vacation to anywhere in the world, all expenses paid, where would he want to go?"

"Olivia, whatcha got?"

"I said Italy."

Elliot held up his answer, grinning, "Italy."

"One down, five more points to go," Jerry chimed, reading the next question, "Number two. Elliot, what is the most ridiculous talent your partner has?"

He thought for a minute gritted his teeth as he messily wrote what he thought was right. She was good at this. Really good at this.

"Tying cherry stems with her tongue." he even drew a mock-up of a pair of cherries for emphasis.

"Tying cherry stems in a knot."

"Well done! Olivia, what is your partner's least favorite food?"

"Sushi, he hates raw fish."

Elliot's face contorted, "Sushi."

"Elliot, what is your partner's dream car? Assuming she has one?"

"Come on, Elliot, you got this." Olivia encouraged.

He scribbled his answer quickly. He hoped it was legible, "A '66 Dodge Charger AKA the General Lee."

"General Lee, Dukes of Hazzard."

"Olivia, how old was Elliot when he had his first kiss?"

She had to count back the clock in her mind, or maybe she was trying to fool her friends in the front row, thinking she didn't know the answer.

Olivia shrugged, "15."

"15, good guess Liv."

Jerry's eyebrow's raised, surprise they have gotten this far, "Elliot. Last Question. For the Win. How many people has Olivia seriously dated?"

Elliot froze. He hadn't thought about the men she'd been with after they'd broken up. It could be four, it could be twelve for all he knew. He wrote the only answer he did know.

"One."

"Olivia, for the win, what did you write?"

"I'd say you owe us some drinks, Jerry," she lifted the board for the last time with her million-dollar smile, "One."

Fin pumped his fist in the air, Cragen let out a hearty laugh, and Casey let out a shriek, stomping her heeled toes under the table in excitement. Under the glasses, wedged between his partner and his boss at the small round table, John Munch smiled bigger than he ever had before.

Olivia wasn't just the one that got away.

She was his soulmate.

Go get her slugger.

The lovers had surged into Olivia's apartment around one in the morning, tipsy and tired. A lethal combination for the detectives. It didn't take much for exhaustion to take over and coerce them into a deep sleep until Elliot's phone rang again at quarter to seven.

"Stabler." he groaned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

A sigh came from the other end, "Yo, it's Fin. We got another body."

A/N: Another Murder, another day in the life of our favorite sex-crime detectives. Song used is I Wanna Dance With Somebody by Whitney Houston. To my DEAREST ClassicTVJunkie, your predictions could not be more wrong. To my other lovely readers, I thank you kindly for your love and support. You know what to do! Follow, Fav, & Review! xoxo