Elliot splashes water onto his face, wincing when the water hits his cuts. He wonders if he should have accepted the waitress's (Jess) offer to bandage his cheek. But he could see that the poor waitress was terrified and was itching to leave after the fight. If Elliot was honest, he wanted to get the hell out of that bar as well.
Elliot assesses his injuries in the mirror. The dark bruise over his eye almost looks alive, as if its pulsing, and has turned a shade of purple. The two-inch cut on his cheek is hot and raw. Elliot had removed the shards of glass that had cut his skin, leaving behind other bloody cuts. Fortunately, he didn't sustain any serious injuries.
Elliot is surprised that the waitress at the diner had served him in the state he is in, without even batting an eye. Then again, he is in a rough part of town, on the outskirts of New York City. He's sure that he's not the first customer she's served who just came out from a bar fight.
Jess had offered Elliot a ride to the hospital, but he had declined. Elliot knows that he probably needs medical attention, not the quick first aid job he had done himself. But he didn't want to leave Liv alone with these men. Elliot can't follow her either.
So, he chose to attend the 24/7 diner across the road. There, he cleaned up the last of his injuries and sobered up over a greasy burger and fries.
Elliot checks his watch. It has been hours since he got into a fight with the other men. He is sober enough to get back into his car and drive home. But Elliot isn't fooling himself anymore. He won't leave without checking in on Liv one last time.
…
Olivia Benson lines up her pool cue against the white ball, angling it at precisely thirty degrees. She crouches. Closing her eyes, she summons the remainder of her energy and frustration following tonight events. She shoots.
Wham!
The cue sends the white ball colliding against a blue ball, shooting it into the hole.
Olivia drops the cue and leans back against the table, sighing. She casts a weary look at the broken glass, pools of beer and mountains of glasses on the table, waiting to be cleaned.
Despite her attempts to distract her mind in a game of pool, she can't seem to release all the tension in her body from tonight, or the thoughts racing in her mind.
Fortunately, Olivia had caught Robert in time before he entered his car. With a flirtatious smile and reassuring touch, Olivia had convinced Robert to not let the owner of the establishment (who was currently holidaying in the Bahamas), know about the bar fight. She convinces him to come back to the bar, promises that she'll deal with Elliot. Promises that he won't regret it.
Olivia knows that Robert would have no hesitations in taking his business (and his associates' business) elsewhere, which would result in Olivia being fired. More importantly, it would ruin months of work she has made in getting closer to Robert, their number one suspect for the string of rapes and murders across Wallstreet's salacious parties.
Olivia takes a swing of gin, draining the rest of her glass in one gulp. She winces at the burning aftertaste. Then she leans back against the pool table. Olivia thinks about her current problem. Elliot. She did not plan on getting so close to him. It's clear that he's getting closer to her as well. Olivia doesn't miss the way he looks at her. She isn't sure if what he feels for her is lust or something more.
Sometimes Olivia wonders if she wants it to be something more…
Regardless, Olivia has been growing worried that this man will threaten her cover.
A knock on the door startles her attention. She freezes for a moment, her mind racing to work out who might be coming by after midnight on a Tuesday.
Olivia places her glass back down and slowly approaches the door. She calls out, "We're closed."
Olivia doesn't get a response. She opens the door. Elliot is standing there, still wearing the dirty shirt with patches of beer and faded jeans. It's clear he didn't go home. He lifts his head up, his cheeks lifting when he sees her.
"I didn't come for a drink."
Olivia swallows. The logical part tells her that she should slam the door on his face and send him away. Yet when he asks her if he can come in, his eyes meeting hers and stirring something in her heart as he does so, she finds herself stepping aside.
Olivia folds her arm protectively, watching him as he walks in. She can see him taking in the empty room, the silence.
"You were playing pool?" Elliot observes, noticing the scattered balls on the pool table.
Olivia nods. "I was…trying to let out some of the tension from tonight."
It is when Elliot is standing near the table, under the dim neon lights, when Olivia sees his scars and bruises.
"Shit…" Olivia walks over to him, concern creasing lines into her skin.
"What?"
Olivia reaches for his cheek, her fingers trailing down the slope of his face, between his cuts. Her eyes linger on the bruise over his eye and slash over his skin.
"God…What did they do to you? I'm so sorry."
"Hey Liv, it's not your fault. I chose to punch the bastard."
Olivia shakes her head, a sad smile playing on your lips. "You shouldn't have been hurt. I must have been so caught up in what was going on…I didn't realise they had hurt you like this-"
"Liv," Elliot reaches for her hand near his face, his fingers curling around hers. His eyes seek out hers, trying to reassure her. "I'm fine. This isn't your fault."
Olivia pauses. She takes in a rattling breath, letting his words sink in. I'm fine. She tries to believe him. She looks at his injuries once more, this time with less emotion. "I thought I told Jess to clean these up and take you to the hospital. Why aren't you at hospital?"
"I wanted to check in on you…make sure you were right after, you know, what happened."
Olivia met his eyes, shaking her head back to the side. She spoke softly, "You idiot. You're the one that's bruised and bleeding. You're the one that had his face smashed into a glass. You know these cuts can get infected if they're not cleaned and bandaged properly."
"Hey, I took care of it." He says it almost defensively.
Olivia raises her eyebrows at him, shooting him a really? look. "Are you always this stubborn?"
Elliot's lips quirk into an amused smile. He finds her concern endearing.
Olivia sighs. "The girls here can do a better job tending do your wounds three drinks in. Sit down," Olivia tilts her head to the lounge.
Elliot frowns. "What?"
"I need to get those cuts cleaned and bandaged before they get infected. Sit."
Elliot raises his eyebrows at her but senses the seriousness within her tone and hardened gaze. He knows that it is best not to protest. He goes to sit on one of the lounge chairs as she goes behind the bar to find the first aid-kit.
Olivia returns shortly later with the kit. She sits on the edge of the seat, taking a moment to examine his injuries.
Olivia clears her throat before speaking. "I'll clean these first and then bandage the cut."
Elliot nods.
Olivia is silent as she goes to work, cleaning his wounds with the anti-septic wipes. Elliot winces and takes in a sharp breath every time it touches his cuts. Olivia's eyes soften compassionately, feeling her own chest tighten every time he grits his teeth. It pains her to hurt him. Olivia does all she can to not think about what other pain he went through during that fight.
Finally, Olivia makes her way down to the large, two-inch cut on his cheek. Elliot almost cries when she dabs his cut, turning his head to the side to avoid the burn.
"You know Elliot, this would be less painful if you stopped fighting me on this."
Elliot lifts his head up. He can tell from her gentle smile and tender gaze that she's trying to make light of the situation.
"Here," Olivia offers him her hand. "Squeeze."
Elliot takes her hand. He grits his teeth when she begins dabbing at his cut, squeezing his eyes shut. Olivia barely flinches when he almost crushes her hand, working quickly to clean his wound.
Olivia finishes cleaning his wound. Then she cuts off two inches of first-aid fabric and bandages his cut. She blows out a tense breath when she finishes.
"Done. I can't believe you were really going to leave with that unbandaged. It could have got infected." She pauses, eyeing him with a critical gaze. Then, "do you always get yourself into this much trouble?"
"Only for the right reasons."
Olivia doesn't miss the way his eyes linger on hers. She dips her head down, somehow feeling like his response was a confession, disclosing a deeper meaning. She lifts her head back up, her eyes checking her work once more, trailing over his bruises and cuts. Her chest tightens with guilt when she realises that none of this would have happened if she hadn't grown so close to Elliot in the first place, hadn't given him reason to keep coming back to the bar and to want to defend her honour.
Olivia finds the words slipping out before she can register them herself. "God Elliot…I'm so sorry."
Elliot's eyes are tender when they seek out hers. "Liv, stop. I told you, this isn't your fault."
Olivia meets his eyes, wanting to speak, the words trapped on her tongue. But you shouldn't have been there. I shouldn't have gotten so close to you.
Elliot continues, "Anyway, they deserved every punch I threw at them. If I could turn back time, I'd do it again."
Olivia smiles, a soft, sad thing. She doesn't doubt that he would.
Olivia searches his eyes. Secretly, she has always been fond of the soft, shade of blue in his eyes. They remind her of the ocean.
"You know," Olivia begins lightly. "I never got to thank you for…stepping in and saying something to them. I hate that you got hurt. But I appreciate the gesture."
Elliot's lips crack into a smile. Olivia notices how his eyes grow warm when he smiles, crinkling around the edges and softening his features. The look melts warm into Olivia's heart.
Suddenly, Elliot speaks. "Why do you work here? Why do you let them treat you this way?"
Olivia chews the inside of her mouth. She should have known he would ask this. Her fingers come together on her lap as she thinks carefully. She speaks slowly, "It's…complicated. The job isn't easy, but I stay for the right reasons. It would be hard for you to understand."
Elliot studies her, thinking. "The other girls?"
Olivia bows her head in a nod. "That's part of it. I like to keep an eye on them…make sure they're safe."
Olivia lowers her gaze, suddenly noticing a red stain on his shirt.
She reaches for it and asks, "What's this?"
Elliot follows her gaze. "I think it's just some blood, probably from one of the other-"
But Olivia is already reaching for his shirt and, despite Elliot's yelps and protests, is pulling it up to examine. She casts him a disapproving look, gesturing to another bloody cut on his torso.
"You didn't tell me about this."
"Liv it's fine, I picked the glass out and washed it myself."
"Well, if it's like the other job you did, then I don't have confidence in your work. Take off your shirt."
Elliot's eyes round with surprise. He arches an eyebrow, his lips quirking into another amused smile. Olivia feels a blush creep up her cheeks and dips her head down, silently chastising herself for her choice of words.
She clears her throat and tries again. "I just mean that…I'll need to examine that one as well."
Still smirking, Elliot does as he's told and begins to unbutton his dirty shirt, shrugging it off. "I didn't know you were a qualified to deliver first aid."
Olivia speaks as she reaches for the first aid-kit, searching for more anti-septic wipes. "It's an important skill to have for any role, don't you think?"
Olivia lifts her head up, her breath catching in her throat. Her eyes take in his sculpted chest, firm and toned. She follows the trail of dark hair dusting down his front and dipping under the waistband of his jeans.
Olivia swallows and tries to recover, but not quickly enough. Her desires are written plainly on her face.
"So, satisfied now?"
Olivia looks up to Elliot, who's smirking, clearly enjoying her embarrassment. She clears her throat. "That you're cooperating for once, yes."
Olivia takes a steady breath and tries to push her desires aside when she goes to clean his cut, applying a little pressure. It's not as serious as she thought, but she still wants to apply a bandage, just in case. Her fingers are cool when she touches his skin, and she can feel it quiver under her hands.
Olivia tries to keep it professional. But her thoughts betray her, filling her mind with images of her running her hands down his chest, tracking bites and bruises down his bare skin, feeling his strong arms reach for her, lifting her by the hips and pulling her into his core…
"Liv?"
Olivia startles once again, realising that she had been sitting there in silence for a while, his cut now bandaged, and her mind lost in her fantasy. She clears her throat and says, "We're done."
Olivia clears up the rest of the equipment, avoiding his burning gaze. God, she needs a drink. She collects everything together and walks back to the bar, her cheeks still warm with embarrassment. She can already see Elliot smirking in her mind. Olivia reaches for the bottle of gin and downs one shot, then two. She pours herself a third and closes her eyes. She feels a slight buzz kicking in.
Trying to keep things casual again, Olivia calls out to Elliot. "Did you want a scotch?"
Elliot lifts his head up. "How about a beer instead?" At her surprise, Elliot says, "You should know, I can't stand the scotch here."
Olivia frowns as she walks over with their drinks. She hands him his beer. "You never said anything before."
Elliot shrugs, accepting the drink. "Like I said, I never came here for the drinks."
His eyes linger on hers for a little longer than necessary. Olivia finally lowers her eyes, breaking the tension.
Elliot suddenly stands and walks over to the pool table, as if he's only noticing it now. "I hardly ever see anyone use this. You were playing before?"
Olivia nods. She sees Elliot picking up a pool cue, his shirt still on the lounge. He hasn't bothered to put his shirt back on. Olivia swallows, her body deceiving her once more as her eyes trail down his body. God, why isn't he wearing a shirt?
Olivia takes a large swing of her gin.
"Up for a game Liv?"
Olivia eyes his challenging stare, her voice playful. "I don't think you can take me."
"Is that a challenge? Come on." Elliot picks up a cue and throws it her way. Olivia quickly catches it. He raises his eyebrows, as if daring her to accept.
Oh, what the hell.
Olivia makes her way over to the pool table.
Any good judgement she had left dissipated with her last drink that night.
Olivia watches Elliot set up the balls. Then he breaks. He makes a clean-cut shot through the middle, the balls splitting off in different directions. He leans back against the table and takes a swing of his beer, raising an expectant brow at Olivia.
Olivia feels a little self-conscious as she leans over, her hands a little clumsy at first as she aligns her cue tip towards the white ball. She feels heat creep up her neck, feeling his gaze burning into her skin. She bends over a little more and just knows that he's staring at her arse. Olivia bites back a small smirk. It makes her want to bend over more.
She takes in a steady breath, trying to concentrate. She shoots.
The cue misses the centre of the white ball by millimetres, jolting against the edge of the ball. It bounces against the edge of the table, missing the coloured ball by an inch.
"Damnit."
She needs to focus and get Elliot out of her mind.
"Didn't think I could take you huh?" Elliot says with a small smirk.
Olivia represses an eye roll, ignoring him.
Elliot nods her way when he says, "It's your stance." He places his beer down and walks over to her, standing where she was before. "You're too close to the table when you hit, and your feet need to be further apart."
Olivia folds her arms, eyeing him with scepticism. "And you're an expert at pool now?"
As if to answer his question, Elliot picks up his cue and bends over. He hits, shooting the white ball into the red ball, which ricochets off the blue ball. Both coloured balls roll smoothly into their pockets.
He stands back up and shrugs casually, but Olivia doesn't miss his smirk when he says smugly, "Yeah, I think I'm pretty good."
Olivia wants to be mad at him. And she is. Yet there's something else there as well…drawing her closer to him.
Elliot walks over to her, so he's standing just behind her. His tone is sincere this time when he asks, "Can I show you?"
Olivia nods.
"Take a few steps back, that way you give yourself more space when aligning your cue."
Olivia obliges. Then she feels him coming to stand behind her, his hands on her hips, gently turning her towards the pool table.
"Part your feet."
Olivia obliges once more, trying to forget about the warmth radiating from his hand and to her hip.
Olivia swears his voice is a little hoarse when he next speaks, "Now bend over."
Olivia swallows, desire stirring within her. She leans over and aligns her cue towards the white ball. She can feel his hand trailing up her waist, his fingers brushing over the whisper of skin peeking above her skirt. Olivia shivers. His hand trails up her side until he reaches her arm, which is pulled back to position the cue.
"Your arm can be a little higher," Elliot says, gently pushing her arm up.
Olivia blows out a small breath. She can feel her heart accelerating. His hand is still on her waist, and she can't stop thinking about the warmth his touch is spreading throughout her.
She struggles to keep her voice steady when she asks, "Are we good?"
Then she can feel him leaning forward, so his body's almost pressing up against hers. She feels his nose brush against her hair, his voice tickling her ear when he whispers, "Line it up and aim."
Olivia closes her eyes. Now she knows that he's doing this on purpose. Ruining her concentration with his feathery light touches, teasing her body. She feels him squeeze her waist, his thumb brushing over her bear skin.
His breath tickles her ear when he whispers once more, "Something the matter Liv? You seem distracted."
Olivia can just see him smirking behind her, enjoying her struggle. Like hell she'll let him win. Olivia takes a steady breath, focusing. She shoots.
She hits the white ball in one swift motion. It glides across the table and hits another coloured ball into the pocket.
Olivia turns around, smiling with satisfaction. "My turn again."
She doesn't miss the slight irritation crossing his features. Olivia drains the rest of her glass, an idea forming in her head through the wisps of drunken thoughts clouding her judgement.
An idea that can only lead to trouble.
She circles the pool table, thinking about where she might shoot next. She stops at the end of the table, parting her feet and leaning forward.
Olivia calls out to Elliot. "How's my stance now?"
Elliot walks over, already finding flaws. "Your backs a little straight…try stepping back and leaning forward."
Olivia knew that he couldn't resist correcting her. "Can you show me again?"
He meets her gaze, studying her. Olivia blinks back innocently. Slowly, Elliot walks behind her like he did before, his hands going to rest on her waist. His hand trails up her side, slower this time, before stopping to correct the position of her arm.
He's closer this time. So much closer that she can feel the heat radiating from his body. She feels his nose brushing against her neck, as he breathes, "Good. Now bend over a little more."
Olivia bends forward, lifting her hips up. Her arse brushes against his core. She feels his fingers dig into his waist and swears she can feel his breath hitch in his throat. Smirking, Olivia pretends to re-adjust her position. She wriggles her hips and then bends over again, purposefully brushing her arse back against his hips. She can feel him growing harder against her.
She shoots.
She hits the coloured ball and makes the shot perfectly.
"How was that?" Olivia whispers huskily.
Elliot doesn't answer.
Olivia turns around. She suddenly realises just how close they are, her back leaning against the pool table. He's standing in front of her, his hands coming to rest on the edge of the pool table, on either side of her. She dips her head down, her eyes trailing up his bare body and landing on his eyes. His intense, blue eyes, darkening with lust that hits her straight in the chest. It takes her breath away. Olivia isn't sure if it's her shallow breathing or his she can feel, drumming in her ears.
She can feel lust swallowing them both.
Olivia swallows, her voice thick with desire when she breathes, "What are we doing Elliot?"
Elliot doesn't miss a beat. "Something I've been wanting to do for a while now."
Then he closes the space between them, capturing her mouth in his.
He kisses her long and hard, as if he has been holding in his desires in for days and finally, letting go. He parts her mouth open with the push of his lips, his tongue slipping inside and intertwining with hers. He draws a deep moan from her throat.
Olivia feels his hand curling around her neck and fingers tangling through her hair, drawing her deeper into his kiss, into him. She parts his mouth with hers to deepen the kiss, tasting spice and citrus. She drinks him in. She can feel herself swimming, floating. Olivia wants to get high on his kisses alone.
"El…"
Elliot swallows her moans. He can feel his heart hammering in his ears. Every instinct tells him this is wrong. Yet the sound of his name on her lips, falling in a moan, pulls him in further. Elliot drags his teeth over her lower lip as he goes to slowly break the kiss.
He brushes his lips over her earlobe when he whispers, "You know I dreamt about this?"
Olivia's breathless and can barely manage her response. "Dreamt about-"
Her words quickly die into a moan when she feels his mouth dragging kisses from her ear and down the slope of her neck. Olivia tilts her head back and tangles her arms around his neck, surrendering to his mouth. She feels his fingers pushing under her skirt, ghosting up the backs of her thighs. It sends waves of pleasurable shivers up her spine.
"I dreamt about us, fucking here on this pool table."
His voice, thick with lust sends desire pooling quickly between her thighs. Olivia feels his fingers bunching her skirt up around her waist. He teases her with his feathery light touches, fingers caressing up her inner thigh and down her sides, but not where she needs him the most.
Suddenly, Elliot lifts her up by the backs of her thighs and onto the table, releasing a gasp from her lips. Olivia quickly wraps her legs around his waist and almost topples backwards, but Elliot quickly moves his hand behind her back to capture her.
Olivia laughs at the sudden movement, briefly breaking the kiss. She whispers into his mouth, "What are we doing?"
Elliot bites her lower lip and asks, "Showing you what happened."
Then he's squeezing her arse and lifting her hips up to his. Olivia laughs into his lips, a bubbly, breathy thing.
Elliot swears that he could spend a lifetime chasing down that laugh.
Olivia breaks the kiss to take in his naked chest, lust darkening her eyes. Her hands trail down the slope of his shoulders and over his chest, feeling his skin contract under her touch. God, she wants to taste every inch of him.
Elliot dips his head down and kisses her neck, burying his mouth in the hollow of her neck. Olivia drops her head back and moans. She can feel his teeth dragging down her skin, tracking bruises down her neck. She wraps her legs tighter around his waists and lifts her lips higher, brushing against his core, desperately trying to ease the aching desire between her thighs. She feels his hands squeezing into her arse and pulling her hips up to his, groaning into her mouth at the friction.
"Liv…"
Olivia brushes her lips against his, her tone drenched with desire when she breathes, "So tell me, what happens next?"
The shrilling sound of bells suddenly shatters the moment. Elliot's phone vibrates in his pocket, ringing. They both pause, their eyes falling on his mobile.
Olivia doesn't say anything. She doesn't need to when Elliot meets her eyes, wincing with regret. There is no reason for anyone to call him this late at night, unless it is an emergency.
Regretfully, Olivia untangles herself from him, letting Elliot answer his phone.
Elliot takes a quick moment to steady his breathing. Then he answers it on the fifth ring. "Hello?"
Olivia watches him, her own heart rate climbing back down. She can see his brows pulling into a frown when he answers, before easing. She sees him shake his head as he responds to the person, "Why the hell are you calling so late at night?"
Clearly, it's not who Olivia was expecting. Nonetheless, even when she sees Elliot end the call and walk back over to explain that it was an old friend back in town, drunk and wanting to catch up, Olivia knows that the moment is ruined.
She can't shake off the guilt twisting in her stomach and clawing up her throat.
Olivia whispers, "I thought that was your wife."
Elliot nods, his features mirroring Olivia's guilt. "Me too."
Olivia closes her eyes and tilts her head back, leaning back on her hands, as if she can feel the weight of the adultery they committed, falling on her. Olivia blows out a long sigh which soon turns into a groan.
Olivia lifts her head up, her voice cracking into a breathy, incredulous laugh. "God, what are we doing?" Olivia closes her eyes, shaking her head. "You have a wife…a family."
What am I doing?
Elliot can see her cracking under the guilt and regret. He feels equally suffocated by it. Elliot wants nothing more than to take away her emotional pain. He tries to approach her. "Liv, I-"
"Stop," Olivia says firmly. She's straightening her skirt down and then her hair. Her tone is as cool as her features when she speaks. "Just…it's easier if we don't talk about this. Maybe you should leave."
Elliot meets her eyes. He can see the emotion behind her glassy gaze, can see the strength it's taking for her to not crumble under the weight of her emotions. Elliot nods slowly. He walks over to collect his shirt, slipping it back on.
Olivia slides down from the pool table and watches him, waiting for him to leave. She folds her arms to protect herself, as if there is a chill in the air and not in her heart.
Elliot begins to walk to the doorway, then stops, turning around. "Liv, I'm sorry," he says quietly. "I never meant for this to happen…I was just-"
"I'm not the one you need to apologise to," Olivia cuts him off. "Tonight was a mistake and I'm just to blame. I was just…caught in the moment." Olivia hesitates, then says, "don't come back here Elliot. Go back home to your family. You have a second chance…don't screw that up over me. Don't make that mistake again."
Elliot's taken back at her words, at the sincerity in her tone. He nods. Elliot makes his way to the door. Then he pauses, turning around once more. "Liv, for the record, I never saw you as a mistake. You're anything but."
Olivia watches him leave, his words lingering in her mind.
I never saw you as a mistake.
When she hears the door click shut, Olivia sinks to the floor and cries. Tears shatter in her chest and quake throughout her body, growing as the weight of what she has done caves in on her. Olivia draws her knees up to her chest and lets her head drop town, tears rolling down her cheeks and to her chest.
He's wrong…this was all a mistake.
Olivia thinks about her career. Her investigation. Months of work that she threatened to jeopardise in one night. Then she thinks about his wife and his family.
God, she's been so stupid…
She knows that it's not just the alcohol that has compromised her judgement and decision-making tonight.
Olivia thinks about Elliot. She thinks about all the times she flirted with him and found herself enjoying his attention. She thinks about the long days she spent here, sacrificing her life and her home to be at this sleazy bar, cleaning tables, enduring taunts from men and looking forward to the time when Elliot would walk inside.
Olivia groans.
She wonders how the hell she let herself get so close to him when she knows he could jeopardise everything.
Deep down inside, if Olivia could face her demons, she knows why.
Olivia takes another trembling breath and lifts her head up. The broken glass and empty glasses sit there, still waiting for her. It's late, she can't delay cleaning this up anymore.
Olivia wipes the tears away from her eyes and stands. She walks over to the table and begins to collect the empty trays, doing all she can to push away tonight's ordeal. Olivia knows that if she works hard enough, she can numb herself to all thoughts and feelings of Elliot and what happened between them on the pool table.
However, ignoring the ache in her chest, pulsing unrelentingly like a throbbing bruise, will be harder.
…
I know I said it would be a slow burn, but I couldn't help myself. *fans self after writing that pool table scene*
Please leave a comment, I really do appreciate it. Wishing everyone a safe and good week! Let's hold onto our sanity until the reunion.
