I decided that it wouldn't kill me to write a chapter two. Same scene from Olivia's POV. I mention something in the season one show "A single life" but it's only a sentence. Other than that, it's pretty self explanatory.

DISCLAIMER—Not mine. But, as I said in my story contact, I am right now planning a large scale kidnapping, and anyone interested in helping should hit me up.

The fact that he's married tops the extremely long list why I shouldn't be feeling like this. Obviously, there are other important reasons, too—the teensy weensy little fact that we're partners, the fact that I'm unable to carry on a reasonably stable relationship anyway, and the fact that we're complete opposites are all contenders for the number one spot on my guilt list. But the fact that he's married, and has four children with his wife of fifteen years is always the detail that holds me back. I'm a lot of things, but a home wrecker isn't one of them.

Strangely, I'm not jealous of Kathy, even though she has what I want. I'm jealous of Elliot. We live the exact same life at work, see the exact same things, have the exact same nightmares. But the difference is that he has a place to go when it's all over. A home base, if you will. And even though he almost never spends any time there, I'm sure that it's comforting to have. I've never had that, and now, approaching thirty five with more one night stands than actual dates, I'm quite sure that I never will.

I turn to find him watching me from across the room. Seeing me, he jerks his head away so fast that I'm sure he has to have gotten a nasty bout of whitflash in his neck. This is a dance that we've done many times before—he'll stare at me, and I'll catch him at it, I'll ask him what's up, and he'll just say "Nothing" before turning his attention to something else. It happened a lot when we were investigating the homicide of that woman who lived alone and was sleeping with her shrink. He'd stare, I'd ask, and he'd never bother to give me a reason. And then, some time later, I'd catch him at it again.

Kathy's not here with him tonight. He said that she has a reunion over one of her friends' houses, and couldn't make it. And Cragen, who wants us to make nice with the Feds and IAB, wouldn't tolerate either one of us missing the party short of a national emergency.

The men are flocking me over my dress—it's pale blue, and maybe a bit showy, but I only have two actual dresses in my closet. And the other one is the short black one that I wear to clubs a lot when I'm looking for an ego boost. Shopping has never been my forte.

After the first man, a middle aged Computer crimes guy with a potbelly asked me to dance and I accepted, the other men in the place seemed to decide that I wouldn't nail them in the nuts for trying. And so I danced—not well, mind you, but danced—once with everyone who asked me. Twice sends the wrong message. There are so many damned people to mingle with here that it's weird to spend a lot of time with only one person.

After the last guy, a Narc rookie named Tyler left, I danced once with John. Munch is one of my favorite people that I've met in the NYPD since I started a few months ago. Besides Elliot, he's one of the few men that I know who can make me think. And I appreciate his barbed wit a lot more than I give him credit for.

And when that dance ended, I left the floor to get myself some punch and take a breather. But of course that never happened. Because no sooner than when I began to dip the big spoon in the punch bowl did Elliot come up to me, and asked me, his voice tentative, whether I wanted to dance. The uncertainty in his voice made me want to hug him for it. What did he honestly think I would say? No? Had he not been watching me for the past few months at all?

I decided not to torture him, and instead let him lead me out. The song was slow, and Elliot easily assumed the position, one hand on my hip, the other holding mine. He moved easily with the music, almost smiling, as he led me back and forth. And a dance floor was the only thing in the world I would let a man lead me around.

"Didn't take you for a dancer, Stabler. Never comes out at work."

A chuckle from him. "I can't show off my dancing skills with the perps, can I? They'd think I was soft."

"Elliot Stabler, model alpha male."

"Damn straight."

He spun me away from him, clinging to my fingers, before bringing me back again. And this time, even closer than before. Not touching, mind you—but bodies skimming each others. Close enough for me to feel his body warmth, yet too far for me to feel the heat. His icy blue eyes stared into mine for a second, permeating me, making me feel exposed and almost naked. But Elliot was good at that. Just one glance, and he could convey what normal people would spend a hundred words on.

His hands began to roam, but somehow, not in any tasteless or tactless way, not touching anything out of bounds—just a need to know, to explore; a need that I was sure was magnified a hundred times over in myself. And I subconsciously stepped closer, until the buttons of his shirt grazed with my dress. I felt his breath on the back of my neck as his hands worked their way to my waist, to my sides, and up my back between my shoulder blades.

And suddenly I became aware that my thoughts had transcended professional admiration, and now sat right in the middle of blatant sexual attraction. And that thought was scary as all hell.

I untangled myself just an inch, and granted myself entrance into his blue eyes. His hand moved its way over my shoulder, and then he was caressing my cheek with his thumb; so absently that it could have been by accident. But I found myself praying to a god I didn't believe in that it wasn't.

It was a good thing that the song ended right there, because I wasn't sure how much longer my self control would hold. The next song was a faster one, and Elliot managed to become the only man in the place to make me break my one dance rule. And when the next song played I broke it again, and again, and again—for the rest of the night.

So that's it. I'm not great at writing UST or any sexual tension, really, but it's oh-so fun. Anyway, hit that nice little purple button and review if you like. A small price, and you will receive my undying love. That's worth it, right?