A/N: We made it! Thanks for sticking with this fic which has been both exciting and terrifying to share :) I appreciate each and every one of you!

His pictures didn't do him justice. That's what she thought the first time Olivia had set eyes on Stabler. Not that he wasn't photogenic. But the sheer gravity of him couldn't be captured in a photograph. His presence was this tangible thing, sucking the oxygen out of a room, all other movement and sound grinding to a halt.

She had been well prepped for the assignment. She knew this man inside and out. She knew exactly how dangerous he was, all of his heinous crimes. And yet, when she'd set eyes on him, she'd wanted him.

She had expected to be disgusted with him. Had thought that she'd only see what he had done to her, to Jordan. But he had this draw she hadn't counted on. This ability to charm. Despite the nearly 20 years he had on her, he was one of those men that seemed to get better with age.

Olivia had never been the type to allow her libido to override common sense. But she knew in that moment the danger that lay ahead, how easily sex could lead to so much more. How she could fall into him and not look back. Especially since her assignment was to get close, to seduce him.

She had resented the offer when first presented. Was the NYPD so backwards that all they could think was to find an attractive young woman to send in and bed him? It was insulting. Too bad she was so desperate to bring him down. And the damn brass knew it too. Took full advantage of it. Well, fuck them. She reminded herself each and every day that she would bring him in or die trying. She'd build a fucking glorious career off of this case, no matter the personal or emotional cost.

That determination helped immensely as she'd allowed him to bed her, as she'd made him fall for her. It even helped as she fell in love with him. She'd be damned if she'd let herself forget exactly who this monster was, the impact he'd had on her life, even if he had no fucking clue. And she'd be damned if she'd give up the two things she'd sought since she was 15 - revenge and a chance to make a name for herself.

Life as a foster kid in 1970s New York was no cake walk. That first year she'd been in the system was now some hazy blur of tears, anger and confusion. Her first real memory of the period was Jordan.

Two years older than her, with gray eyes and a shocking afro, he had somehow taken her under his wing. Protected her from the bullying of the other children, the creepy foster dad, the angry foster mom.

He'd been her brother, her best friend, her only family. She'd learned to braid his cornrows and she'd taught him how to skateboard. They'd bonded over the fantasy of a better life, lifting magazines from the corner drugstore to pore over the homes and the clothes and the vacations they'd have one day.

While terrifying at the time, the three years that she and Jordan had been in the same foster home were the best years of her miserable childhood. When the system had finally realized her foster parents were abusive assholes, they had been thrown to the wind and Jordan was no longer around to protect her day in and day out.

She'd figured out how to survive at 10. How to identify the predators and stand up to the bullies. She'd had no comfort, aside from Jordan's friendship. Somehow they'd stayed close as they'd each bounced around foster families and group homes. Finding ways to still spend time together, against the odds.

When she was 13, Jordan had decided he was done with it and he fell in with a group of older kids who sheltered him. He ran errands for them and eventually drugs. And he'd promised her that he could take care of her. Save her from foster care, maybe even help her pay for college, since at least one of them should get to go.

And then once she had a good job, he could get out of drug running and do something normal. And one day they could have the life they never got a chance to live as kids. A sunny home on the beach with a wraparound porch.

She had actually believed it for a while. Thought that they had paid their dues in misery and were owed some happiness.

And then Jordan was gunned down. And all her dreams of a happy future died with him.

Olivia was 15 when she was left alone once again. Nothing but rage for company. Nothing but the need for revenge in her future.

She'd learned quickly that it was a rival organization moving in on the territory Jordan's gang ran. The 16 year old kid that had held the gun that killed Jordan didn't interest her. And anyways he had died just days later in a retaliatory shooting. No, she wanted the head of the monster.

Information was easy to come by when you knew the streets and no one found you threatening.

And so it hadn't taken long for the name Elliot Stabler to fall into Olivia's lap. Hadn't taken much effort to learn his rising prominence, the power he wielded, his associations.

And even then, as Olivia realized how out of reach this target was, she didn't give up. She thought bigger, dreamed harder. She learned to be resourceful and had found a backchannel into the NYPD.

She was on a path. And then she met Lucas and it turned her head. She fell hard and fast and thought she may still have that shot at real happiness after all. Thought maybe there was a way to have her revenge and this new future.

Lucas talked her into a year abroad and it was only once they were in Thailand that she had realized he was a fucking idiot.

But Olivia was resilient. So she dumped his sorry ass and found her own way. She thought about returning, but travel had always been something she and Jordan had talked about. So she did it for him, to honor him, to live for him.

But the more time passed, the more certain she was that she had to return, had to make things right.

And once she was back in New York, it was easy to find the path back. Into the NYPD, with a clear agenda.

"I know we're asking a lot of you." She's meeting Captain Cragen in an abandoned warehouse, overlooking the Hudson River. They're standing at a sun drenched window and she squints against the bright light.

"I'm clear on what I signed up for." Olivia's voice is firm, steady.

Cragen sighs, giving away his discomfort. "Until you sleep with him-"

"I know." She interrupts. "But right now, the fact that he hasn't tried to sleep with me...I think it's to my advantage." She looks at her captain squarely, refusing to blush.

He can't hold her gaze the same way, turning away from the window and walking a few paces away. "He treating you alright?"

She softens at the concern in his voice, in his words and she follows him. "He's been a gentleman. As much as a man like Stabler can be."

"Be careful." And then he heads for the exit and she's on her own again.

It's strange to have to discuss this with her Captain. Before meeting Elliot she had been concerned about having to bed him. But now that he's wrapped around her finger, her concerns are different. She's worried that she really wants him. Wants to feel his mouth on hers, his touch on her skin. Concerned that she's not just doing it for the job, but for herself. Worried what it means that she's looking forward to seducing the man who is the root of so much of her pain.

Spending time with Elliot already means that she's planted bugs, tapped his mobile phone. She has already created access that they've been struggling to get. And if she said she was out, she knows they'd let her walk. She's done enough. But she could do so much more. And she still has her conflicting reasons to stay. Her desire for revenge. Her desire for him. She thinks if she were saner, she'd walk now, before this hurt her. But she can't bring herself to make that decision.

From the first touch, the first kiss, her body had begun to crave him. Desperate and needy for the way he could set her body aflame. She thought she'd known good sex, but this was something else. Something volatile and urgent, dark and foreboding. Her hunger for him only matched by the desire she saw echoed in his face. One feeding off the other like an inextinguishable fire.

She may be sleeping with him, but she can stop things from getting out of control. She is just a fling, a temporary distraction to a man like Stabler and maybe he just needs the reminder. And so she tries to push him away, to postpone the closeness he seems to be seeking in her. She calls herself a side piece and is unaccountably warmed by his denial of it.

For a while she lies to herself. It's just lust, how good he is with his hands and his mouth and his cock. It's just loneliness and so many years of being by herself. She's undercover and things get twisted. Her brain is playing tricks on her because her life is constantly on the line. There's a whole list of things she tries to make herself believe before she can't fight it any longer.

She keeps trying to remember that it's one thing to sleep with him and another thing to love him. But when he's so clearly falling for her, she can't help but feel something too.

By the time she falls for Elliot it is too late to turn back. She is in too deep - on the mission, in her feelings for him. She had thought she could ignore it. But he had opened up to her, become too human. He had revealed himself to be someone she understood, instead of the simple villain she thought she knew.

So when he says 'I love you' it's both a balm to her lonely soul and the worst thing she's heard in a long time. She doesn't want to say it back because voicing the words will only make the feeling all the more real.

When he tells her he loves her, she thinks of Jordan. She thinks of the future he'd never get to see. She decides that Jordan deserves her loyalty, no matter the feelings that Elliot was stirring inside her.

But not saying it doesn't mean she doesn't feel it. And when she does tell him she can't decide if she's doing it for the job or for herself. But every time she voices it, it hurts just a little more. Just makes her think of how she is loving him and betraying him at the same time.

She keeps hoping that it will turn out to be another Lucas situation. That she could quickly fall out of love and move forward. She feels her stomach clench and flip as he'd describes the way he'd beaten and murdered Ricky Chao. For a moment she thinks she'll give herself away with her disgust. But even as she takes a role in the organization, sees the damage he is inflicting, she still can't stop herself from loving him. It's strange to see all of him, the terrible alongside the good, and accept every bit of it. She's never known a feeling like that before.

That access into his organization had been key. The thing the brass wanted. The guarantee that they could bring him down. She tries to get out of it because she knows it would be the nail in his coffin. But when he insists, she reminds herself what she is there for. She refuses to feel guilty, even as she knows that the trust he had placed in her, the way she had manipulated him, will be his demise.

When he buys her the house she feels so loved, so cherished. The closest feeling she'd ever had to the way Jordan took care of her. And of course it makes her think of Jordan. It is impossible to be in that house and not wonder what Jordan would say. How he'd feel about the man responsible for his death sharing her bed.

When Elliot asks her to run away with him, for a few precious moments she wants to say yes. She wants to leave with him and never look back. She wants to selfishly think of a future with this man and forget her plans for vengeance. But she can't shake the image of Jordan, dressed in a cheap suit, lifeless in his coffin. It didn't matter if Elliot made her happy. He had stolen something vital from her and she'd never be able to forget that.

That knowledge didn't make it any easier. She had come to need this man who she had far more in common with than she should. Even with her cover, with the lies she told, there was so much more truth between them. The only real thing she'd left out was Jordan.

Elliot had connected with that lost little girl that she was, because a part of him was still a lost little boy.

"Your best friend…" Elliot stares at her confounded.

"His name was Jordan. He's the reason why I'm here. And his blood is on your hands. Like so many others."

Elliot scrubs a hand over his face. "You're a cop." It's not a question, but his tone is still full of disbelief. He watches her nod. "No. No! You-" Elliot stabs a finger towards her. "You love me."

She looks at him coolly and he closes the distance between them, ignoring the gun she still holds to her side. "You love me." He repeats as his hands cup her face and he pulls her to him, taking her lips with his own. His fingers delve into the hair at the base of her skull, his tongue sweeps across her lips. She moans against him, soft and real, and he knows he's right. He pulls back and she's there now. His Olivia. "You love me." He says again, softly.

She steps back, the hardness settling back on her. "I was doing my job."

"Bullshit. Maybe it started that way, but you love me as much as I love you." He watches her shake her head, her eyes darting away and it only underlines how much she's lying to him right now.

"Just leave with me. We'll run." He's nearly pleading. The old him would never have bothered. This betrayal should be too much. All his trust misplaced with her. He'd been foolish to let her in, to give her every bit of the information she needed to bring him down. He should want her dead by his hand. Instead he wants her in ways he has never experienced before and he doesn't think he can live without her.

"You're not going anywhere. I can't let you." Her voice is quiet, almost apologetic. "You've done too much, Stabler. It's too late to just walk away."

"I don't believe that. We can just start over. Far away. Never look back."

But she shakes her head, resolute. "If you come with me quietly, we can make this whole thing simple."

He shakes his head, steps away from her. He reaches for the gun he has holstered and mirrors her, his arm coming down to his side, weapon at the ready. He's sure he's hearing the cars now, the cavalry coming for him.

He turns back to her. "Please, Liv." One last try at redemption.

She gives him nothing. Just waits for his next move.

"I can't let you take me in. I can't live like that." He tells her, but she remains impassive.

Finally he lifts the gun, slowly bringing it up, pointing it at her.

She moves fast, her stance adjusting, her gun leveling at him. "It doesn't have to be like this, El." And despite the training, the air of professionalism, he can hear the tremor of emotion in her voice.

He shrugs. "I don't see another way."

"Don't…" it's just a whisper from her lips. The pleading in her eyes weighs against the hardness in her mouth.

"I really do love you." He responds. And then he squeezes the trigger.

Olivia fires, two shots. It's a direct hit, center mass, and he stumbles back, falls. He can hear her make a strangled sound and for a moment he's worried that his wide shot had accidently hit her. But then he hears her footsteps as she rushes to him. She drops the gun as she kneels down and he's relieved to see her uninjured. She's crying, sobbing really and he feels a sharp pain as she presses her hands into his chest. "El...I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

He smiles up at her, reaches for her arm, her hair. He tries to speak, but he can't make the sound leave his throat. He wants to tell her this was for the best. That he'd do anything for her, even accept death. "Please El, don't leave me. I love you."

His eyes meet hers one last time before his world goes dark.

Olivia sobs as she watches his eyes close, as his body stills beneath her hands. She wants to scream, throw herself over him. But she can hear the footsteps running towards her and instead she pulls back, stands up.

"You ok?" There's a hand on her arm, someone she doesn't know and she nods and steps back as she hears another officer confirm that he's gone.

Cragen finds her a few seconds later, takes off his jacket and wraps it around her. "You did good, officer." He leads her back towards the front of the house where an ambulance waits. "You injured?" When she shakes her head no, he continues. "They'll have to interview you, get the whole story. But I can't imagine this will go down as anything but a good shoot. You're gonna make your bones on this, kid." His arm is steadying around her, but she can't really take any of it in. He leaves her with an EMT and she goes through the motions of their exam, watching the body bag being rolled away out of the corner of her eye.

She knows her captain is right; she'll make her bones, she'll go on to do great things. She's already avenged Jordan and she's on her way to making a name for herself. But tonight she killed the man she loved. The man that loved her back. And she's not sure how she'll ever really recover from that.

A/N: Confession, I wrote those last two scenes first, then decided I needed to write an entire fic just so I could post it :) also I'm sorry for my sadistic nature XD to make it up to you, I've got a sexy undercover fic in the works ;)

Also, a few words on the title. 'To make one's bones' is a term used in the mob that then bled over into law enforcement and other professions. It means 'to establish one's credibility in an organization' and is thought to originally be derived from the phrase 'establishing one's bona fides'. Bona fides is a Latin phrase meaning 'good faith', basically establishing credentials, or proving who you are.