A/N: That tattoo can't stay. This is how we're gonna fix it.

The first time she saw it, she got a sinking pit in her stomach.

At Bell's request, she'd gotten involved with this Frank Donnelly business; buddying up to him at a "chance" meeting near his precinct, sending him right to Elliot. Making a scene in the lobby at 1PP.

"We need somebody we can trust. Someone we know for sure isn't involved," Bell had said when she called. "And Stabler said there's nobody in the NYPD, or otherwise, he trusts more than you."

Well, how could she say no to that?

She'd teased him. Told him he was undercover as Elliot Stabler. He wasn't really undercover, of course. Infiltrating, yes. Undercover, no.

But she should have known after 23 years that when it comes to the job he doesn't half-ass a thing.

It was a normal Wednesday afternoon and now that she was involved with this case, Olivia dropped by OCCB to check in on things. She couldn't prove it, but she had a bad feeling Chief McGrath may be part of the Brotherhood. He'd always rubbed her the wrong way, but then she heard him mumbling something about Donnelly on the phone when she'd gone to meet him and go over her DD5s and she didn't like it, so she'd come to warn Bell that this thing may go higher than one corrupt precinct.

"You know he's gonna wanna know," Bell said, as they stood in her office. "Can you tell him?"

"It's been over a year and you haven't figured out how to quell his rage yet?" Olivia asked, a bit amused.

"You had 12 years," Bell said. "You're the Stabler whisperer. Please tell him so I don't have to add to my already splitting headache today."

"Where is he?" Olivia asked.

"Downstairs," Bell said. "We have a gym and locker room in the basement."

Olivia wasn't sure what she was expecting when she stepped into their makeshift gym, but Elliot having it out with a heavy bag, shirtless of course, would have transferred her right back to 2006, had he not been bald and sculpted like some kind of Greek artwork now.

He noticed her when she walked in the door and he dropped his gloves to the ground, smirking at her.

"My friend, Olivia," he said. "You wanna go a few rounds?"

"My friend, Elliot," she said, smiling back. "Came to give you some news about the case. It's just a hunch but I thought you and Bell should know about it."

"When you go off on a hunch it's usually serious," he said, stepping toward her and grabbing his water from a ledge on the wall.

"I went to McGrath's office to talk about my DD5s and he was on the phone when I got there," she said. "He said Donnelly's name and then when he noticed me he said he'd have to call whoever was on the other line back. I'm not sure, but I think at a minimum he knows about the Brotherhood. At worst, he's a part of it."

"He have any tattoos?" Elliot asked.

Liv furrowed her brow.

"None that I've seen," Olivia said. "But he's always in his long-sleeve button-up. Unless he had any on his face or hands I probably wouldn't be able to tell. Why?"

"Brotherhood is a police gang," Elliot said. "They have their own symbol and all the members have tattoos."

Olivia bit her tongue to keep from rolling her eyes. Of course, they did. Good thing Elliot was only casually infiltrating them.

Then he turned around and she saw it.

It wasn't like she had Elliot's body memorized, but she knew his tattoos and scars, and the stories behind most of them, too.

That ugly little thing between his shoulder blades was brand new.

Before she could stop herself she stepped forward and ran her hands over the ink. She felt him shudder under her touch, and she realized for all the millions of times she'd cleaned him up after on-the-job injuries, this was likely the first time she'd ever touched his bare back.

It might have been romantic if she hadn't been so furious.

"Something like this?" she asked, tracing the lines.

"Yeah, something just like that," he muttered.

"I know I said you were undercover, but really, Elliot?" she asked.

"Donnelly drove me to the tattoo parlor and practically dragged me in," he said. "What did you want me to say 'oh sorry, I'm only here temporarily, I don't need the ink."

Olivia felt her blood boiling. There was a time she used to love undercover Elliot. He was a father trying to save his daughter's reputation, a candy-maker billionaire desperate to give his wife the baby she's always wanted, a timid husband willing to give a swinger's club a try.

Okay, maybe she only loved undercover Elliot when she was there to watch what the hell he was doing. Because when left to his own devices he lit shit on fire and screwed sex traffickers and apparently got gang tattoos, too.

"You could have said something about being on blood thinners or something," Olivia said. "Pushed it off hopefully to the point where you didn't have to mark yourself for life."

"I made sure to get it where nobody's going to see," he said.

"And you're already doing a piss poor job of that considering you're wandering around shirtless," she said.

"At the precinct," he said. "Where everybody here knows what we're working on and why it's there. It's why I'm not at my regular gym. Got it between the shoulder blades so it's totally covered. I won't be a target as long as I'm wearing a shirt."

"Which you aren't right now," she muttered.

"You distracted, Captain?" he said with a self-satisfied smirk.

"By the ugly gang tattoo on my friend's back, absolutely," she said.

"Well, don't get too attached to it," he said. "It's coming off when this is over."

"It's permanent ink, Elliot," she said.

"They make laser removal for a reason," he said. "This is no different than the beard, or any of those tiny little dresses you used to wear on undercover assignments."

"Some mini dress isn't a permanent fixture on your body," she said.

"No, but it does leave a permanent imprint on the brain," he said, staring right into her eyes, sincere enough to make her blood pressure rise a bit and her ears feel warm.

Olivia sighed and took a few steps so they were closer, so she was in his personal space again.

"Just don't lose yourself in it this time," she said. "With you being undercover as yourself, it might be even harder to remember who you really are."

"If I start to forget, I know my friend Olivia will remind me," he said, reaching for her hand. "She's never had a problem calling me on my shit before."

"Just watch your six," she said, giving his hand a squeeze. "I don't like sending my people under alone. Especially when they're being reckless about it. Amanda almost got herself shot recently going off book on an undercover sting."

"I don't how much my word means to you," Elliot said. "But you have it that I'll be as careful as I can."

"You better," Olivia said, giving him a small smile and pulling back from his grip to go back up the stairs and get home to her son, some comfort food, and a long, hot shower after his bedtime.

Though she hadn't been running the Brotherhood operation she had been keeping a close eye on it, especially when they uncovered that McGrath was in fact an integral player, and she was more than happy to see his ass go down, and get out of her way, once and for all.

Elliot had done what he seems to do best anymore, get in too deep. But thankful for small favors, he had checked in with her repeatedly over the course of the assignment to prove that while his cover was deep as the ink on that disgusting little skull tattoo, he himself wasn't lost like he'd been the last time.

She didn't think much of it when he texted her Friday afternoon after they wrapped the case.

"Got something to show you," he sent. "Can you stop by after work? My place?"

She responded and pointed her car toward Long Island City at the end of the day. She came up around the back and knocked on the patio door, and saw Elliot scrambling into the living room from his bedroom, in jeans and a zip-up hoodie.

"Howdy, partner," she said as he let her in.

"Hello, my friend, Olivia," he said.

"Ok, even I'm getting a little nauseated with us saying that all the time," she said with a chuckle.

"Hey, I'm just calling it like it is," he said. "Unless you can think of another word I can use instead?"

"Captain might work just fine," she said, arching an eyebrow.

"But you're not my Captain," he said. "Unless you arranged some transfer nobody told me about, in which case I cannot wait to torment you the way we used to torment Cragen."

"Did you bring me here to show me that you still tell terrible jokes or is it something else?" she asked, still smirking.

"Fine, fine," he said. "I really do have something I want you to see."

He turned his back to her and she heard the sound of his hoodie unzipping. He slid the blue material off his arms until she was staring at his back yet again. That damn tattoo was still there. Olivia stepped forward to look at it more closely, wondering if maybe he'd started to get it removed or something but it didn't take.

"I know I told you I was going to get it lasered off," he said. "But that shit kind of hurts, so I decided to go a different route."

Olivia wanted to roll her eyes. How much more painful could a laser be compared to a needle piercing your skin in the first place to get the tattoo? But she stepped forward to see what exactly he'd done to the thing. Once she got nearer, she realized it wasn't the same tattoo at all.

Sure, the outline shape was similar, but the scythe now formed part of the outline of the state of New York. The playing cards had been turned into two scrolls, each with a message on them. One said Fidelis Ad Mortem, faithful unto death, the NYPD motto. The other said Semper Fi, always faithful, the Marines motto. And the skull was now an NYPD detective badge. She squinted to see the number printed at the bottom.

4015.

Her badge number.

Olivia let her finger trace the ink again, feeling too many things to put into words.

"Do you still hate it?" Elliot asked. "I know tattoos aren't really your thing."

"Not on me, no," she managed to say. "But uh, I think somebody screwed this up, El. They put the wrong badge number."

"No they didn't," he said, turning around to look at her.

"That's not your badge number detective," she said.

"No, it's my partner's," he said with a grin. "Lemme explain. I got the outline of New York because that's always going to be home, no matter where I've been, and I hope I'm not going anywhere else again. Two scrolls with two very important mottos, both a promise to the person who owns badge 4015. My partner. It couldn't have been anybody else's badge, Liv. You've always been the one to have my six. And now there's proof of it, right there on my very literal back."

Olivia felt overwhelmed. Men had done sweet things for her before. But this… was permanent.

"That's permanent ink, Elliot," she said. "You put my badge number in permanent ink on your body."

"Yes, I did," he said, still grinning. "Somehow I feel like we've already had this conversation about how tattoos work."

She didn't know whether to laugh or cry, smile or frown. All she really did know is he could not do something sweet for her and then stand there shirtless with his strong pecs and biceps and expect her to form coherent sentences.

"You need to put a shirt on so we can finish this conversation," she said.

"Distracted again, Captain?" he asked, no doubt feeling good about himself.

"Oh my God, Elliot, you can't mark your body with my badge number and then stand there looking all chiseled like no fifty-something man has the right to be and then expect to have a grown-up conversation."

"I'm open to alternative suggestions to a grown-up conversation," he said, still smirking.

"You're infuriating," she said, with a huff.

Elliot laughed a full belly laugh as he slipped the hoodie back onto his body and zipped it up, then he grabbed her hands and tugged her into his chest, wrapping his solid arms around her body.

She felt safe there.

"I love ya, Liv," he said, into the top of her head. "Even if you don't feel the same way, I hope you know it. You've always had my back, even when I didn't deserve it. Just thought it was time everybody else could see it too."

"Well, only if you're shirtless," she mumbled into the solid wall of his chest. "Just how many people do you expect to be seeing you shirtless?"

He laughed again.

"Just the people who live in this apartment," Elliot said. "The people at my gym, and the occasional doctor or medical professional."

"What about your partner?" she asked. "I mean it is my badge number back there after all. Do I get to see it whenever I want?"

"That depends," he said. "You got any secret tattoos for me to see? Ones you've been hiding behind the facade that you don't like 'em?"

Olivia went quiet for a minute.

"I have some scars," she said. "From an incident, a few years after you left."

Elliot immediately sobered.

"Liv, I didn't mean…" he started. "I was just joking. I didn't know. I'm sorry."

"No, no," she said. "No tattoos, but I do have those scars. Some are right where your tattoo is actually."

She felt his hands move up to rest between her shoulder blades.

"I don't like to look at them," she said. "Don't like remembering what happened. But, uh, if you can transform an ugly little gang tattoo into a real sentimental piece of artwork, maybe someday you could help me do the same with some of my scars? And then I'll have a few secrets of my own for you to see."

She should feel uncomfortable bringing up Lewis, her scars, even considering the possibility of a tattoo because needles make her stomach turn. But here in Elliot's arms, under his gaze, she felt nothing but confidence.

"I'll help you with anything you want, my friend Olivia," he said, drawing out that word again. "Gonna keep saying it until you give me a reason to call you something else."

This time Olivia really did roll her eyes and she tilted her head up to look into his eyes. For the first time in over a year, they had their sparkle back. His grin was real. He was happy. He was home.

So, Olivia raised up on her tiptoes just a bit and captured his lips in a quick but promising kiss.

When she pulled back, the look of genuine surprise mixed with gratitude was all the more encouragement she needed.

"Hey, my partner, Elliot," she said. "How'd you like to take me and Noah to lunch tomorrow. Your treat, of course, with ice cream for dessert?"

"Yeah?" he asked, brushing a stray curl behind her ear.

"Yeah," she said. "Now that you're home for good, I think it's time."

"I am home," he said. "No place I'd rather be, as long as you're with me."

"I'm with you," she whispered, leaning her head back into his chest and letting her hand drift up his back to the spot where his promise to stay was there for anyone to see, drawn in permanent ink.

A/N: You know what time it is: Review time!