[23/06/2022] Hello everyone! I apologize for the delay in updating the story, I haven't had time to write any in the past weeks. This chapter is a bit shorter than the previous ones, a bit difficult for me too, as I haven't been watching Organized Crime and so am not really in touch with Elliot's character these days... So I'm sorry if this doesn't feel quite right, and don't hesitate to point out any inconstency in the comment section. I hope you enjoy anyway!


For the first time in so long that he couldn't quite remember the feeling, Elliot Stabler was alone at home in the middle of the afternoon, with absolutely nothing to do. No work, no chore, no family duty… it was almost eerie. The sunbeams were bathing the kitchen feature in soft light, blurring the sharp edges of everything around him, even his thoughts that swam in the air, slippery, uncomfortably out of grasp. He had never been one to take the time to reflect on his life and feelings, always so busy, in action, on edge, taking care of a case or his family. He reflected with facts, people in flesh, his thoughts working and processing under pressure, anger, pain, responsibility, sometimes even spontaneous joy or desire. So when he was alone with nary to do, his brain was like a cold piece of hardware in an old computer that you needed to bleed and sweat upon for it to emit a spark. He was rarely willing to kick it back alive, and by the time he got on the verge of madness with this Silent Hill-feeling of out-of-placeness, he generally had something urgent to do. But today, today… well. He decided that it was time to grow a pair, grab a wrench and open the Pandora box.

He was debating with himself since over an hour about whether or not he should send a text to Olivia to invite her, yet again, for lunch or dinner sometime next week. Though he felt like their relationship was getting easier, she had still refused his last invitation, and he didn't want to impose or, worse, be taken for an awkwardly insistent teenager that he definitely was not. He just missed her. Wanted to properly meet her kid and know about the person she had become in the ten plus years he was not around. He understood. It was his fault she was apparently not ready to open up to him. He knew he had hurt her by leaving so abruptly, so suddenly, he hadn't needed her to explain it to him. He wasn't that thick. But the way she had displayed her feelings to him, as they were just reunited over the worst circumstances possible… He hadn't been ready for that. Ready for that raw emotion thrown at his face, so hard that it had almost occulted the fact that his wife was dying in the next room.

Fuck. How horrible is that? That's why I don't ever make time to sit and think.

What was that that Olivia and him had? What were those feelings, this pull? When they were still partners, the trust they had in each other, the way they shared everything, work, afterwork, jokes, experiences, opinions, pain… Although he'd never crossed the line, it still felt a bit like cheating on his wife. Kathy had known it on some level, it had almost ended their marriage. And if not for Eli, it probably would have. Did Olivia know too? She always had that sensitivity, that empathic ability to read people that he admired immensely. He thought he knew it too, somehow. Enough that after everything, he had to shut her completely out of his life, lest he wouldn't be able to rebuild the life, love and family that he had almost destroyed. But that was ten years ago.

Today, today… Kathy was dead, and it felt like a lifetime away. The man who murdered his wife, who had been his nemesis and sole focus for too many months was also dead. He was drained. He couldn't even get in touch with his anger anymore, his faithful friend, the anchor of a lifetime. Where did that leave him? On a sunny Sunday afternoon, alone in his kitchen, thinking about his miserable ass and how to get Olivia to want to be them again. Or finally. Because what was them, now? They had touched, and stared, and wondered out loud. He had felt hopeful for the first time, that they could begin somewhere, his invitations sounding like romantic dates, because how could they not, how could he not think about that? Think about what they could be if they went for it? About the attraction, the ever-present sexual tension, the way she was always here for him, whatever crap he pulled, whatever danger he put her in? He wanted to be the solace for her that she had been for him. But he didn't know if he could. She wasn't the same person he knew, she had grown and blossomed without him. She had been better without him.

So what were they? Two strangers trying to fulfill an old fantasy? Two lonely, single older parents with too much history, too much unsaid, and probably too tired for those ravenous feelings eating at their loosening flesh? Or two people who have loved each other for a long time and maybe now have a chance, time and distance be damned?

_ Aaaargh! Elliot took his head in his hands, trying to shake the torrent of thoughts he knew he shouldn't have let mess with his brain.

He got up and went for the fridge, hoping a cold beer and some TV would end this self-inflicted torture. As he was grabbing the small bottle, bent over in the freezing yellow light, a grinding vibration resonated in his ears. By the time he realized it was his phone ringing on silent mode, the vibrations had stopped abusing his counter. He slid his finger on the screen to see who had called and saw a notification for a voicemail from… Olivia. His hand slightly trembling, he gingerly put the phone against his ear.

"Hey Elliot, it's Olivia. You probably busy with family, but I was wondering if I could take you up on that lunch offer you made? If it's still open, of course. Would be just me, though, if that's okay with you. Well, call me back when you can. Bye."

Elliot put back his phone on the counter, eyes wide and mouth a little slack.

Well, I'll be damned.