Summary: Velasco tries to drop off a file for Olivia. What does he see?

AN: These last two chapters reference things that have happened/may happen canonically (Eli leaving; BX9), but everything is really just free floating in this story so if there are any weird gaps or holes, just fill them in with your own imagination. It's hard enough trying to keep up with what I've already written in this story and Sibling Chats, I can't keep up with what's happening on the show too.

I hope you've enjoyed. I'm trying to figure out how to work in Whelan and Muncy, but honestly, how many more times and in what places are Elliot and Olivia gonna get caught with their pants down (in way that feels even remotely in character)? Maybe something with the grandkids or Noah again? Who knows.

Thank you for reading.

Fin steps into Olivia's office sneaking through her top draw on the right side looking for her chocolate stash—she always has the good stuff. Then he sees the Smith file, sitting right on her desk.

Grinning, he shouts for Velasco and the younger detective comes rushing in.

"Yea Sarge?"

"Looks like Cap forgot the Smith file. I'm gonna call her, but you should run to her place."

"Really?" Velasco asks nervously. He feels somewhat closer to the Captain because she's dating his girlfriend's dad. But going to her place alone after hours still feels weird, even if it's just to drop off a file.

"Yea, she left early with a headache, but she wanted to look over this case tonight. I bet she's taking a short nap and then will be pissed that she left it here. Plus, you know where she lives, right?"

"Yea I do. Okay, yea," Velasco nods. "I'll take it."

Fin snags a handful of the small candies and tosses a couple to Velasco, "Good man, you may make it here after all."

Velasco catches the chocolate and smiles on his way out.

Elliot glues himself against her back, his hands roaming her body aggressively, growling in her ear, "Hurry the hell up, Liv."

Olivia can smell the whiskey he drank at dinner on his breath as it hits her neck. She shivers at the sensation. His hands are teasing the underside of her breasts over her dress. If she wasn't just as tipsy as he is, she might swat his hands away. Instead she just leans against his back and lets him grope her in her hallway with her one hand resting on the door knob as if it was after midnight, not 5:25 p.m. on a Wednesday, when anyone could step off the elevator and turn the corner.

Noah had a late practice tonight, and Lucy was already on the schedule to pick him up and get him dinner before bringing him home for bed. They were unlikely to be home before 8:30 p.m.

Elliot had texted her around 3:00 p.m., asking if she could sneak away for an early dinner and drinks, his words followed by a few suggestive emojis. Being a very rare quiet day, the department working on a couple longer term cases, Olivia fibbed to Fin, telling him that she had a headache and was going to head home for a nap and then work on the Smith file later that evening.

They went to dinner at a nearby whiskey bar and Elliot decided that they each needed a whiskey flight to match their meal, and after dinner whiskey; all before 5:15 in the evening. She could tell that he was trying his best to hold back in the Uber to her apartment, but his body was tense and flushed, and she knew what whiskey did to him.

"You better open that door or I'm gonna fuck you against it out here," he growls again, grinding his erection against her ass.

"El…" Olivia whines.

"Now Liv," he bites her neck, "I'm not kidding."

Somehow, she finds the ability to unlock and open her door and he marches her through it, straight to her small kitchen table. Elliot swipes her table clear, the placemats and flower vase—full of fake flowers—clatter to the ground and his hand is flat in the middle of her back, forcing her to bend over.

Before she can ask him what he plans to do to her, she feels a cold breeze over her ass as her dress is shoved up and over her hips, and her panties are around her ankles. Elliot tugs her thighs apart and she quickly steps one leg from her panties to create space he needs.

She thinks hears his belt whip open, so she looks over her shoulder to see him, and warn him that she's going to need a little more before she's ready for him, but he's crouching down behind her.

"Oh!"

His tongue is hot and rough on her center. He's working her up fast. He's licking broad and wide, his mouth covering her completely before he sucks on her clit. In the back of his mind, clouded by his mild intoxication, he knows that she likes it softer at first before he works up to a more intense speed and pressure. But he can't help himself. He's just drunk enough that he's sloppy and devouring her without much thought other than getting inside of her. His hands grip her ass and pull her apart.

"Fuck! El!" she pants, taken aback by his urgency and force, but enjoying this change of pace. They've been able to have rough sex more often lately since his apartment was empty, but they've not yet braved daylight sex on her table.

He just grunts in return, desperate to get her wet enough that he can fuck her. He'd undone his pants before he kneeled behind her, needing to relieve the tension caused by the fabric over his erection.

One hand pulls his cock out and strokes it harshly. He groans into her heated and wet flesh.

Olivia's arms are outstretched over her head, her fingers curled around the far ledge.

He pulls back for a second to breathe, sucking in air and taking in the view, his hand stroking a few more times before he reaches for her with both hands.

"One of these days, Liv, I'm gonna take you every way," he says as he lets his thumb rub between her cheeks, pulling her own moisture up to help the pad of his thumb move smoothly.

Olivia gasps.

"God Liv…you like that, huh?" Elliot teases cockily, knowing that his words are only helping, "You want me to fuck your ass?"

He's not usually like this, so dirty and pornographic. Usually he's sweeter or just simply descriptive—you're so wet; I love fucking you; come for me—but when he drinks too much whiskey, his inhibitions drop and the filth flows. Though lately, if she thinks about it, he's gotten bolder, in his texts and in person. Olivia loves this side of him. She was shocked the first time he'd gotten like this. She had to put up some resistance to his sexting, but eventually she caved in and let him text her all sorts of naughty things during their days.

And she can remember clearly the time she was on her knees in front of him, when he gripped her head almost too roughly, pushing her down a bit and groaned "Take it all…suck me…all of me, Liv…I wanna feel your fucking throat. Her eyes snapped wide open and he stopped, afraid that he'd gone too far. But she'd pulled him back to her mouth by his ass and after he'd come, she'd run his hand over her center, showing him how wet she was just by his words, whispering "keep talking."

Since then, he's never held back, adding a little dirty talk to most of their encounters, but it takes whiskey to get him this lascivious. More daring and revealing more of the dirty secrets he keeps to himself.

"Answer me, Liv," he commands gruffly with a smarting whap! to her cheek before pushing two fingers into her.

"Oh…I…ah," Olivia struggles to form words, overwhelmed by the whole turn of events. His gravelly voice, dripping with his arousal, his hands on her and in her, and the fact that he has her bent over her own table while the sun is still up (though just barely) and eating her out from behind. It's been a while since they've been this out of control, let themselves have the run of her place and not worry about the noise they cause. She wishes they had more opportunities like this.

Grinning, he knows he has her. She's gotten so wet in the last few minutes, she's dripping down his hand and on to his wrist.

"Liv," he growls, but she just moans in response. He doesn't care whether she answers, he just wants to drive her up, so he can get inside her. And he can tell she's already close, her body shaking and clenching on his fingers.

"Yea," he pants leaning back in, his hot breath washing over her, "that's my girl, you gonna come?" he asks before sucking her clit back into his mouth.

Elliot slides a third finger into her, stretching her as he continues to push and suck.

"Come on baby…come for me…" he begs as he slams his fingers into her. He can feel his precum slowly rolling down the side of his cock, just begging to be rubbed around his head. He's dying to get his hand back on his cock—actually he just wants to be in her, to feel her hot and tight as she comes on him, surrounding him.

Quickly he pulls away from her, right as her orgasm is on the precipice.

"Ellll–" she whines at the loss, so ready to come. But the second half of his name comes on a hitch of her breath as he drives into her, his hips slamming into her ass.

"Wanna feel you…feel you come on my cock," he pants directly in her ear as he hunches over her, his hands next to hers on the table edge. "Your cunt gets to tight on me when you come."

"Fuck! yes…yes…yes"

He fucks her through it, the table scooting across the floor, and not letting up until he can feel her body relax under his. He pulls out, rubbing himself over her cheeks, and almost threatening "One of these days, Liv…"

He turns her around, roughly handling her, he pushes her back down before she gets her bearings and slams back into her.

He changes his mind though. As much as he loves having her spread out on the table, he wants to hold her up, pin her against the wall. It makes him think of their time in the interrogation room, bending her over the table and then rattling the window. Fucking Fin, catching them, ruining that memory.

He barely thrusts his hips three times before he pulls her legs around his waist, instructing her "wrap your legs around me…tight." He leans over her and dives one of his hands under her back and the other, under her ass, lifts her from the table.

"El!" she shrieks in surprise and grips his shoulders tightly. In the back of her mind she knows he is strong, but it's been a while since he's thrown her around or carried her.

He shuffles her the two steps to the wall, his pants still around his thighs. He holds her up, leaning her against the wall as he resumes. He grinds at first, keeping their bodies close, his stomach pressed tightly against hers. Then he leans his chest back, using the angles of his hips to keep her up, and pulls his shirt tails up, gritting them between his teeth so he can see himself sliding in and out of her. He wishes he'd actually stripped her of this damn dress.

"Hold it," he commands, his words jumbled around the cloth of his shirt.

She looks at him, confused for a second before she looks down and realizes that her dress is in the way of his view. And he loves to watch. She takes one hand from his shoulder and bunches up her dress out of the way. Her thumb the perfect angle to rub her clit.

He groans thankfully, still trying to talk around his shirt tail, "Fuck you are so sexy…I love how well you take me…"

Olivia's head falls back against the wall as she moans, doing her best to meet his movements but mostly held in place between his hard body and the wall and even more limited by her focus on holding her dress out of his way. "Yes El…god…I love this…fuck me…"

He meets her with a pained grin as he continues working, sweat rolling down his head, the back of his shirt soaked.

Velasco pulls up outside Olivia's apartment and flashes his badge at the deskman, telling him that Ms. Benson is expecting him, he's just dropping off a file. He waves the detective up.

He's about 10 feet from Olivia's apartment when he hears a rough scraping and a grunting. He picks up his pace, reaching for his gun. He sees that Olivia's door isn't latched and he hears what he thinks is a table scraping across the floor. He's terrified for Olivia's sake.

All he can think about is the lingering threats from BX9 and the shiner that his Captain sported for the better part of a week. They collared over half the gang last week and Captain Duarte swore up and down that the hit order had been dropped. But by the sounds coming from her apartment, Duarte had been wrong. Some of the gang apparently didn't get the message that the hit was off.

He runs the last three steps to her apartment. Slowing down to listen and thinking through his training. He wants to bust in and start firing, but he knows that doing so would be a huge risk to his Captain.

He tries his best to be quiet and he steps past the door, so he can see through the small crack where it's still open. He's startled by the sound of what he knows to be bodies crashing into a wall and stifled grunt. Some is speaking, but it sounds muffled, like it's distracted and coming from behind a mask.

He has to decide, but he's too afraid to act until he knows exactly what he's walking into: how many BX9 members; how many and what kind of weapons; does he need back up?

He slides the nose of his gun into the space between the door and the latch, carefully opening the door farther to get a better view. He will call for backup when he sees how many guys are in there; if there is enough time.

Velasco gasps when he sees it, his Captain held up against the wall by a big man, muscular and strong. He's about to run in, thinking that some strange man is hurting Olivia until he hears her moan his name "Elliot!" in an unmistakably not-in-pain tone. Then he notices it, the man is bald.

I know that head.

Elliot?

No.

No. No. No!

It hits him like a ton of bricks. The man is Detective Elliot Stabler, his girlfriend's father, his Captain's boyfri...partn...significant other? He knew that Olivia was with Stabler and Kathleen had hold him about some of their sex-capades—many of which he couldn't believe.

But now he was standing outside Olivia's apartment watching Stabler holding her up against the wall and fucking her…hard. And she was perfectly happy with it, more than happy by the sounds of it.

Oh god...is she? Is that what she sounds like?

I've got to get the fuck out of here.

Velasco goes to run back down the hall but his foot snags the door and he drops the Smith file when he tries to catch himself. Quickly he picks himself up and gathers the files before taking off again, not wanting to be caught by Stabler or his Captain, he's not sure which would be worse.

He doesn't stop until he's in the elevator, hunching over to catch his breath. But when it dings on the first floor he still speed walks past the deskman and to his car, certain that Elliot is hot on his heels and not afraid to shoot.

Velasco finally gets his bearings when he gets in his car, locking the doors, before he looks around and sees no one.

He pulls out his phone and types a quick message to his Sergeant: No answer at Capt.'s door, must still be napping.

Taking another look around to make sure no one has followed him, he pulls up his messages with Kathleen.

Can you meet me for a drink?

I've got something to tell you.

This you want to know.

—

Elliot is still gasping for air, chest heaving deeply, when he lowers Olivia's legs to the ground, doing his best to hold her up, knowing that her legs will be a little tight and wobbly.

"Fuck, that was…" he huffs, laughing a bit.

"Yea, that was something else," she agrees as she fixes her dress and scans the room for her underwear, instead noticing the mess they've made.

"Are you…I mean, you're good right?" he asks, somewhat concerned.

Smiling, she cups his sweaty cheek, "I'm better than fine El. My thighs might be a little bruised, but it's worth it."

He turns to kiss her palm sweetly, "Good."

"Though, I think we need to have a talk," she starts with a curious grin.

"About what?" he asks with his eyebrows furrowed, worried now after the fact that he may have pushed her too far.

Her tone is light and teasing when she pats his chest and answers, "I think someone wants to try something new."

"What? No...," he denies quickly, blush returning to his cheeks in embarrassment now that he's a little sober and arousal isn't clouding his thoughts, "I don't…it's just dirty talk, Liv. I thought you liked that."

"I do like that. I like it very much. But you don't need to be embarrassed, it's a normal thing to desire."

"But I don't," he huffs unconvincingly as he reaches down to pull up his own pants, leaving them undone and his shirt untucked. "It was just talk…senseless talk…"

"Okay, I believe you," she says with a wink, "But if you want …" the smile leaves her lips when she sees her open front door. "Oh no," she gasps softly, covering her mouth.

"What?"

Olivia raises her hand and points, "My door is open. Oh god...who knows who may have seen what. My neighbors…how will I ever…they probably saw…"

"Liv," he tugs her chin back towards him with a crooked finger, "don't get in your head about this. You have no idea whether anyone actually walked by. There are only a few people on this floor."

She inhales, trying to calm her worries and nods. "Yea…okay…you're probably right. But I'm going to close it now."

Elliot steps back to let her pass him, pulling his shirt away from his skin, it's damp and cool against his skin, which is uncomfortable now that they've calmed down. He begins to unbutton it on the way to the kitchen to get some water or maybe some Gatorade.

Olivia reaches the door and peers outside timidly, looking both ways down the hall, afraid that her entire floor would be standing in the hallway ready to shame her. She knows it's irrational. There are only two other apartments on this floor and it is unlikely that anyone actually saw anything. Whether they heard something might be a different story judging by the mess in her apartment. But no one is there.

She's about to pull the door closed when she sees a small slip of paper. She recognizes it as her notes, handwritten from this morning on a sheet of paper from a notepad. She'd torn it out and placed it in the Smith file earlier today. What is this doing here? Must have been stuck to my bag or something.

She grabs the paper and sticks it in her purse to return to the file the tomorrow.

The next morning Olivia gets to the precinct early, ready to review the Smith file. But when she sits down at her desk she notices that it's missing. That's funny, I left the file right here. She thinks, looking at the right corner of her desk.

She pulls open the drawer to see if she tucked it in there by mistake. It's not there. But she can tell that Fin's been into her candy dish. She decides that she will check in with Fin about the file when he gets in and busies herself with her full email inbox for the meantime.

It's close to 10:30 a.m. when Fin finally rolls in. She heads to his desk to ask him about the file and scold him for rooting through her emergency chocolate stash, "Fin next time you eat my chocolates, I'm taking it out of your check."

"I'll get you another bag, Liv," Fin promises with a wave of his hand as he sits down.

She's about to ask him about the file when she sees it, right on the edge of Velasco's desk, so she asks him, "Did you give Velasco the Smith file to work on last night?"

"No, you left it here, so I told him to take it to your place. I called you to tell you, but you didn't answer. Then he texted me around 5:45 or so saying you didn't answer your door."

Her face flushes immediately, realizing how her notes from the file must have ended up in her hallway. She gulps and faces the younger detective.

He diverts his eyes, his ears burning bright red, as he shakes his head.

"Everything okay Cap?" Fin asks at the tense interaction.

"Everything is fine, Fin. Isn't that right Detective?" the answer to her question in her eyes as she looks at Velasco.

"Peachy," he squeaks out, still not able to meet her eyes.

Olivia takes the Smith file from Velasco's desk, instructing him "Keep working on the Martinez file. I want updated theories by the end of the day today."

"You got it Captain Benson," he answers in a strained voice.

Fin waits until Olivia is back in her office before leaning over his desk and whispering, "What happened last night?"

Shaking his head and looking at Olivia's office to make sure she was distracted. "Nothing, nothing."

Fin's eyes narrow, "Nothing my ass. You look like you've seen a ghost, or worse…oh no!" Fin then recognizes the look on Velasco's face, he knows the look. It's a look of regret and queasiness at seeing what no one wants to see. "Was Stabler there?"

Velasco gulps, trying to decide whether to confirm or deny Fin's guess. Giving one last glance to the Captain's office, he looks over at Fin and gives a slight nod.

Fin laughs and claps his hands together, "Welcome to the club. Those two have the absolute worst luck. Seriously, everyone has caught them at least once. Even their kids, it's bad."

Velasco shudders a bit, thinking of the things that Kathleen has told him, then mumbles under his breath, "So I've heard."

"What have you heard?" Fin follows up quickly.

"Nothing," he tries to deny but falters under Fin's gaze. "It's nothing I can share. Just, uh…" he feels so guilty for betraying his Captain like this, "Kathleen has told me some things."

Fin smiles and waves him off, "Oh, I think I know most of that…couches, kitchen tables…the usual."

Calmed a bit by Fin's response he grins back, "You wouldn't think that would be the usual for two…uh, more mature…individuals."

"You better watch who you are calling old. Captain may not fire you for seeing her getting busy with her man, but she will can your ass in a second if she hears you call her the o-word."

"Got it."