A/N: The chapter will have reference to the episode 'Starved' (7x08).
Songs: All The Same by Nick Wilson, Terrified by Isaac Gracie, My Favourite Faded Fantasy by Damien Rice, and Poison and Wine by The Civil Wars.
Chapter 12- Elliot
He laid awake in his bed; his eyes fixed on the tent of his boxers. Olivia was pretending to be asleep next to him. At his last comment she'd moved her body off of him and huffed her frustrations into the pillow on the other side of the bed.
Fuck. What had he been thinking? Did he really think either of them could handle what he'd asked for tonight? All he wanted was to sleep with her against him like they had on the couch that night two weeks ago, but now they were both lying awake with arousal that wasn't going away. He needed air, air that wasn't filled with her scent.
He stood from his bed and pulled on sweatpants.
"Where are you going?" she asked from the darkness of the room.
"Clear my head, going to sit on my stoop," he said as he slipped his phone into his pocket. She began to sit up in the bed, but he held a hand up to her.
"Liv, just stay in bed, it's too late for you to leave, and I'll be back in a few," he said as he eyed her in the dark. Just stay in bed. He wasn't sure if he was going outside for himself or for her.
"Jesus Christ, Elliot," she sighed as she laid back against his bedsheets.
"Don't sneak out the window," he said as he let the door close.
The night air instantly helped his erection. He lowered himself onto the step and put his head in his hand.
"I think that when I enter you for the first time, I want the ink dried on my divorce papers and I want my hands free to touch you wherever I want."
His words were on a loop in his brain. He couldn't believe that had happened. He couldn't believe she'd decided to straddle him and kiss his body like she didn't give a damn about their partnership.
This was so muddled in his mind that he didn't even know where to begin in his efforts to find clarity. Olivia. He'd always been hopelessly misguided when it came to her.
He wanted it all, and he wanted none of it. Having her that way felt like giving up everything. God he wanted her.
He wanted to eat pasta with her, he wanted to solve rape cases with her, he wanted to move her toothbrush to his medicine cabinet, he wanted to watch David Letterman with her, and he wanted his mouth between her legs. He wanted to taste that arousal against his tongue.
He wanted her to know that he was terrified he couldn't give her anything.
He wanted the ink dried on his divorce papers, he wanted Kathy to forgive him, he wanted his children to see him as a hero, he wanted to catch all the rapists, he wanted his fists to not burn with fire when he couldn't process the enormity of his shortcomings. He wanted to be seventeen again with the whole world ahead of him.
If he'd met Olivia first or in another lifetime, he would have done it all, the right way.
Two Weeks Later / 1-6 Precinct Squad Room
"Any word?" he asked.
"Not yet."
"Ah well, maybe you're not his type," he said as he approached her desk.
"Ah no, he was interested, I could feel it, ya know," she said as she flicked her eyes up to him. He considered her bait for a moment, knowing they were surrounded by their coworkers.
"Yeah…" he said through squinted eyes and rigid shoulders. Rachel Martin was waiting to hear back from a perv, and Olivia had no qualms about putting her body on the line. He didn't like the idea of her going under at the speed dating event, but Cragen had shot him a look that said it wasn't his choice.
"Think he's our perp?"
"Couldn't get a read on him, normally I need two minutes in the box with a guy to know if he's guilty but,"
He heard the ping on her computer and came around to stand behind her to read the message.
"Email?"
"I've got a match," she grinned, as if she was enjoying this.
"Romeo?"
"He wants to buy Rachel a drink," she said with the click of her tongue to the roof of her mouth. His fists tightened; he didn't want anyone buying her a drink. He wanted her back in his bed, now that the sling was long gone from his arm.
Things had been tense, to say the least, in the last few weeks. She'd left his apartment after that night, in the early hours of the morning. He took the day off because he couldn't handle facing her for a while after what had transpired the night before. His next case back to work he caught with Fin, and Olivia had been doing a marvelous job at avoiding him. Of course she was avoiding him.
He'd stopped her from doing what they both desperately wanted and then sat on his stoop for hours like a coward with his tail between his legs. He'd asked her into his bed, and then he couldn't even handle having her there. No wonder she didn't know what to say to him.
"You wanna drop me off at my date?" Her voice broke his train of thought, and he looked up from the stack of files on his desk. He'd been going over the three victims' statements again. She was walking down the squad room stairs in a black dress that had everybody turning their heads.
Elliot heard Fin's whistle from across the squad room and shot him a sharp look. He knew it was only Fin being friendly, but he didn't need anyone drawing more attention to his partner. Olivia's legs moved towards him, and he could tell she'd put lotion on them. The same legs that had fallen open over his hips. Her skin was so bronze, and the black halter dress was drawing extra attention to her collarbones and neck. Her shoulders were exposed, and he wanted to throw his blazer over her.
She stopped in front of her desk and reached for a tube of lip gloss in her purse. He kept his eyes on her, trying to silently intimidate her into backing out. He knew she was capable, and it was the best thing for their case, but he still didn't have to like it.
"I don't want you doing this," he said loud enough that their captain caught him as he walked out from his office and towards their desks.
"All right, listen up. Fin you'll sit under in the bar and keep tabs on Benson. Stabler and I will be outside in the van, and Munch will be sitting at Rachel Martin's apartment," he instructed.
"Cap, I think I should be in the bar," Elliot protested as he turned to face their captain.
"Olivia, what do you think?" Cragen asked as his eyes landed on her. He could see the way his captain became a tad uncomfortable. If there was anyone who came close to being as protective of Olivia as Elliot was, it was their captain.
"I think Fin's got it covered," she said as she shot him a pointed look.
"That's final then; let's get rolling people," Cragen said as he waved them all towards the exit.
"I'll have another glass of cabernet," Olivia said, and Elliot could hear her voice through her wire. The wire that was likely taped between her breasts. He and Cragen were sitting in the van listening in on the entire conversation. The air in the space was tight. He was still fuming that Olivia had fired at him by letting Fin sit inside instead of him.
"No, no, she doesn't want that, she'll have a vodka martini, dirty with extra olives." Mike Jergens responded, his awful voice flooding the van and making Elliot more on edge.
"What an asshole," Elliot said under his breath, and his captain shot him a look.
"She knows what she's doing, Elliot,"
"I know that," he growled as he shoved his fists into his coat pockets. The last thing he needed was his commanding officer seeing through his thinly veiled territorialism. Was that what he was, territorial?
He wasn't sure when he started considering Olivia as his, but he did. The realization tilted his axis. She was his partner. He had the right to be concerned, territorial. Right?
"It sounds like he's touching her," Elliot grumbled as the noise came through their mics. He just knew that prick had put his hand on her leg like he had the right to.
"Let it play out," Cragen said as he shot him a look with the corner of his eye. "She's got to reject him."
"Doesn't mean I have to like it," Elliot said, and he knew he was saying too much, was he gunning for a separation? Cragen only chuckled like he knew something Elliot didn't.
"Thanks for the drink, goodnight," Olivia's voice said into the mic, and it was music to Elliot's ears. He loved the way she sounded when she shot men down.
They could hear her walking and Cragen said,
"We're right behind you, and Munch is already there," as he began to pull the van away from their stakeout. "Oh and Olivia, the department owes you a drink."
"Just make sure it's not vodka," she responded once she was inside of her car and outside of Mike Jergens's ear shot. Elliot wanted eyes on her car, because he knew Jergens would be tailing her, but that was Fin's job.
"Hey El?" her voice said, and he could hear the radio playing in her car.
"Yeah Liv?" he replied with the click of his mic as he chanced a glance at their captain.
"Make sure you put the cuffs on extra good," she said and there was a hint of a laugh in her voice. She knew Cragen could hear her, but she didn't seem concerned.
"Of course," he said as he folded and unfolded his hands in his lap. They could hear her music playing in her car, but she couldn't hear them unless they wanted her to.
"This is really eating you," Cragen stated in a low voice as he made a sharp turn. He let his eyes fall on Elliot's hands again. Elliot forgot sometimes that his captain knew how to read people just as well as he and Olivia did. The man knew his way around an interrogation in his day.
"Never easy to see your partner on the line," Elliot said as he tried to keep his facial expression even. Elliot could feel Cragen considering his next words in the confines of the van.
"I never had to worry about my captain putting Greevey in a cocktail dress," Cragen said with a light chuckle, and the comment took Elliot by surprise. He wasn't sure he'd heard his captain right. The two men never talked this candidly, especially about Olivia. It felt wrong to discuss her with the other men in the unit; it would make them no better than the gossiping uniforms. He knew Greevey had been Cragen's partner at the 2-7, and Greevey had gotten him to face his drinking problem. Cragen had never mentioned his partner before. He realized his captain was extending him an olive branch, a nod at the fact that he understood the complexity of partnership but would never understand the complexity of Elliot and Olivia's. Greevey had never been in a cocktail dress.
"Sometimes I wish you gave me Cassidy," Elliot revealed into the van, and the word lingered with him. Gave. His, she was his, she felt like his. He knew it was wrong, but the word soothed his mind.
"Do you know why I put her with you?"
"No." Elliot swallowed as he looked at the clock on the dash, he wanted the car ride to be over, he wanted cuffs on Mike Jergens, and he wanted Olivia safely in the passenger seat of their squad car.
"She wouldn't have made it with anyone else," Cragen revealed.
"I think that's a grave underestimation, Cap."
"I don't mean as a detective- she's better than all of us; I meant in this unit. She needed to know there were still some good ones out there," Cragen said, followed by a pause as the gravity of his words settled down. Some good ones, some good men. Elliot clenched his jaw tighter because he didn't feel like he'd been a good man to her lately. He'd left her alone in his bed for hours while he sat outside because he was unable to comprehend on how many levels he wanted her. Then he'd looked at her at work like nothing had happened. What was he doing?
"Munch is a good man."
"Munch would have sent her packing after week one or proposed to her," Cragen shot back, and Elliot couldn't help but laugh and then in a softer tone, Cragen added, "some things you just know."
"Yeah," Elliot sighed as Cragen parked the car in the alleyway. Elliot jumped out, and Fin was already approaching him.
"She just went up, and Munch has eyes on Jergens. He's at the back entrance."
"Let's get him," Elliot said as he and Fin entered the building.
Elliot took the stairs two at a time to the locker room. They'd gone three rounds at Jergens, and the case was shaping up to be more problematic.
You should have let him attack Olivia. Casey had said, like all their efforts had been for nothing. Olivia said she'd take a crack at the girlfriend tomorrow and then slipped up to the locker room.
He needed to talk to her before she left. Cragen's words were gnawing at him. He didn't know what he needed to say, but he knew he needed to see her. Feel her. Assure himself that Mike Jergens was far away from her now. He opened the door to find her folding her dress and heels into a tote bag that she had packed for the undercover stint. She was still wearing the light blue shirt she had worn in the interrogation. It sculpted her body and reminded him how much he wanted her beneath his hands.
"You alright?" he asked as he let the door fall closed behind him. It was getting late, and the precinct was emptying out.
"Fine, just pissed at how this case is falling apart," she said, but she didn't look up at him.
"You looked beautiful," he said, and that forced her to raise her eyes.
"Really Elliot? Not here," she scolded as she slammed her locker closed behind her. She was mad, he could tell. She was mad that he'd been avoiding her, but she'd been avoiding him too.
"Why didn't you let me sit in the bar?"
"Not now," she warned as she undid her holster and set it on the bench between them. He took several steps towards her and stepped over the bench.
"I'm your partner; I should have been in there," he said in a low tone as he invaded her space. He could feel her wall slip a little as he cornered her against the row of lockers.
"Get over yourself, Elliot," she said as she straightened her back against the metal, he could see her eyes dart to the door to make sure they wouldn't be caught in this position. It did not look partnerly.
"I'm sorry," he said, and he didn't know what he was saying it for, Everything? Nothing? Then he let his hands do the talking when he placed them under the scoop of her long-sleeve t-shirt. His palms made contact with her collarbones, his fingers falling over her shoulders, the same collarbones and shoulders that had been exposed in that dress. Then he moved his hands across her shoulders, his thumbs skating against her neck.
"Why are you doing this," she sighed as she pressed her eyes shut.
"I just needed to feel you," he whispered as he removed his hands from underneath the collar of her shirt and let them skim down the curve of her body, his thumbs grazing the sides of her breasts.
"Not here."
"You remember six years ago?" he asked as he contemplated picking her up by the waist. He wanted to feel her legs wrap around him. Not here.
"Yes," she said as she made direct eye contact with him.
"I wanted to touch you."
"Elliot…," She said as her eyes checked the door again.
"I saw you standing right here, and I needed to touch you. I wanted to take you against these lockers Liv, and you know the worst part is, I would have if you didn't stop me,"
"You wouldn't have, just like you didn't the other night," she shot at him. She always knew when to call his bluff. He was as haunted by his marriage back then as he was now- he was a good man.
"I wanted to."
"Which time?"
"All the times," he said as he was brought back to standing in her doorway, standing in his bathroom, lying on his couch, watching her in his kitchen. All the times. They were in this so much deeper than either of them could admit. He felt his head spinning. She glanced at the door again as he said, "Come over tonight." She glared at him and then broke out in a soft laugh. She thought this was funny. She was laughing at how pathetic he was.
"Have you signed the papers?" She already knew the answer, he could tell she knew by the condescending tone she took with him.
"Liv..."
"You don't owe me an explanation, Elliot. I didn't ask for one," she said, and he could see the sadness in her eyes. The papers were sitting in his closet, and he agonized over them every night before falling asleep. He knew he had to sign them, but it felt like walking away from who he was. Once he signed that dotted line, everything he'd believed all these years would be for nothing. He could have touched her six years ago for all it mattered. His marriage would have ended anyway.
"I only want to spend time with you. I'll make us dinner," he said as his thumbs played with her belt loops, pulling her hips closer to his. She seemed to consider his words for a moment before a dark look came over her eyes.
"Kiss me."
Her words startled him. They fell so matter of factly from her lips, like she was asking him to grab her a casefile off of his desk.
"Where?"
"Kiss my mouth, El," she challenged as she let her eyes land on his lips. He took in a deep breath as he let his gaze fall to her mouth. Her mouth. Her lips were full, and her smile was his favorite. He loved listening to her talk and his mind had yearned for years to know what it would feel like to cut off her sentence with his lips. She still had lip gloss on, and he could see how the corners of her mouth parted in anticipation. He reached for her jaw and let his thumb press into the spot below her earlobe. He bridged some of the distance between their faces, and he could feel her breath. He closed his eyes and exhaled sharply as he pulled away.
"That's what I thought," her resigned voice said, and it cracked away at his heart. She knew him so much better than he knew himself. He thought he could do it, and she knew he wouldn't. That's why she'd asked. God Dammit.
"Tell me why," she asked in a low voice. Tell me why you can't do it. He shook his head through closed eyes as he tried to find the right words for her.
"I don't know, Liv. God I'm so pathetic, I…"
"If you don't want me like that just tell me. If I'm just a quick fuck against some lockers it won't break me Elliot," she said. They were both using each other's names in excess because neither of them seemed to really be reaching the other. His eyes darkened as he shoved her into the locker; he heard her spine hit the lock. If you don't want me like that. The problem was he did want her like that. He wanted to kiss her until he couldn't breath and he wanted her to know how much she meant to him. She'd never be a quick fuck against some lockers. How could she think that?
"You have no idea how wrong you are."
"Enlighten me, then."
"I can't kiss you because it makes this real, and we could lose this partnership," he let drop as he tried to steady his eyes on her.
"But you can look at me naked, and you can kiss my neck and my hands and touch my shoulders and my waist and my belly, take off my clothes, give me your clothes, invite me in your bed and hold me while we sleep? None of that means anything, Elliot?" she asked, and it was the most vulnerable he'd ever heard her. She was calling him out, and he had nowhere to hide. Her spine was pinned, and she was the only one between them who had a backbone strong enough to unpack this.
"God I'm sorry, Liv," he exhaled as he let his thumbs fall from her belt loops. "God, I'm sorry."
"Stop apologizing."
"You have to know…" he began, but she cut him off.
"I can't do this. You go around acting like I belong to you, and then you can't even claim me!"
"Do you want me to claim you?" he asked as he tried to get a read on her. Her chest was rising and falling, and he could tell she was trying with all she had to keep it together. For both their sakes. She looked away from him, her eyes hitting the floor.
"This isn't fair to me, Elliot."
"I want to make it right," he said, and she shook her head.
"You will not come near me again until you know what the hell it is you want," she placed her spread fingers on his chest and pushed him out of her space. She was hurt, and he knew it was all his fault.
"I want you…"
"Just stop!" she cried as she tried to not let her voice escalate too much. "I don't want to hear it unless you plan on proving it, and the last I checked you can't even stomach the idea of kissing me. Sign the papers or don't, but stop playing around with me like it's something to do in the meantime!" she said, her voice cracking ever so slightly at the end. She began collecting her things and refused to look at him.
"Goodnight, Elliot, don't call me, and don't you dare show up at my apartment. I'll call the cops on you," she warned, as she let the locker room door slam on her way out.
December 2005 / 1 Month Later / 1-6 Precinct Holiday Party
Elliot sat at the round table in the assembly room of the holiday banquet venue. He was nursing an old fashioned that his captain had gotten him. There were upwards of a hundred tables that sat around eight people each. He hated the bureaucratic horse-and-pony show that went down once a year around the holidays. He was waiting for the awards to begin and hoping they would go quick. He scanned the room for his colleagues. Everyone was around mingling, but he didn't feel like talking to anyone.
He hadn't brought a plus one. Rebecca had stopped calling him. He heard through the rumor mill that she'd gotten serious with a doctor. He was happy for her. Kathy was also dating a doctor. It was a lawyer first and now a doctor. He guessed she was trying to make her way through all the professions to make sure that detective was in fact the worst. His papers still sat in his closet like some kind of dark passenger in his life.
"How are you holding up, partner?" Olivia's voice said from behind him. She rested her hand on his shoulder, and he looked down to see that she had painted her nails red to match her dress. The party was white tie, and she was wearing a dress that made her more breathtaking. He had on a suit and tie that was too tight on his neck.
"How bad would it be if I snuck out?" he asked as he looked up to where she loomed over him. Her hair was curled, and it was just touching her shoulders. Her makeup was done, and she had a string of small diamonds around her neck. He wasn't used to seeing her without her gold necklace. The dress hugged her body like it was made for her, and it had a low dip in the back that gave an ample view of her spine. Her shoes were low heels that showed her matching painted toes.
"Cragen might kill you; you did that last year," she said as she took the seat next to him.
"Got sick of entertaining the uniforms?" he asked as he let his eyes dip to her cleavage for a moment before returning to her eyes. After the locker room, she'd come to work the next morning with his favorite coffee order and a tight-lipped smile. She handed him the warm cup and said with her eyes, we're okay. And they had been. They'd closed five cases in the last month; they'd been working suspiciously well together. Neither of them had mentioned all that was said, and wasn't said. Things were good.
"You have no idea," she laughed as she reached for his drink, "can I finish this?" she asked as she sipped the drink before waiting for his answer. He laughed as he watched her wince at the taste. She'd come alone, and he tried not to think about it too much. In years past, she'd usually brought a date. He wondered if she was still seeing Trevor but refused to be seen with him still.
"I remember thinking how great this was my first year. Now I'm about ready to sneak out with you," she said as she let her finger trail on the rim of his glass.
"Did you see the photo in the entry hall?"
"What photo?"
"They have a whole bunch of department photos on display at the entrance; there's a picture of you and me from that first banquet."
"Really?" she laughed as her eyes drifted to the entrance of the building.
"We looked so young. I think I've put on some pounds I wasn't aware of," he laughed as he let his eyes scan over her.
"You and me both, partner," she laughed.
"Nah Liv, if you have it's in all the right places," he said and then swallowed as he realized he'd stepped on a potential landmine.
"Have you been talking with the uniforms?" she quipped, and her smile told him he was okay.
"Yeah, something like that," he laughed.
"I heard rumor that we're getting an award. Something for case closure," she said as she redirected the conversation.
"We're pretty good at that."
"Closure?" she asked in a low voice as she looked up at him with her dark eyes.
"Something like that," he sighed as he let his eyes rest on her. There were hundreds of people from the department milling around, and he was perfectly content to sit beside his partner for the whole night.
"Elliot do you want me to wear black or purple," Kathy called from their bedroom as she tried to pull her look together for the night. Lizzie was sitting on the bed in tears because she didn't want the babysitter to watch her. Dickie was screaming about needing something from the kitchen. He was trying to get his tie on while Kathleen waved a school field trip paper in his face that he needed to sign.
"Doesn't matter Kath," he called into the bedroom as he scrawled his name across the paper and headed towards Dickie.
"What color is Olivia wearing?" his wife asked as she followed him into the kitchen with two dresses in her hands.
"I have no idea, doesn't matter; she'll probably wear a pants suit," he responded in a dry laugh as he tried to keep the irritation out of his voice. He'd been working with his new partner for about three months, and tonight would be the first time his wife would meet her. He tied his tie tighter at the thought.
"Well you should have asked her, doesn't she need to match you," she said as she held the two dresses out in front of him. He pointed to the purple one.
"She doesn't need to match me; she's not my wife," he said as he placed a quick kiss on her mouth before he bent down to lace up his dress shoes.
"You don't have a purple tie," Kathy frowned as she pulled the dress on in their kitchen, the craziness of their lives flying around them as they tried to pull it together for a dignified evening.
"Black goes with everything," he said as he tugged on his tie.
"I'm excited to meet her," Kathy said from the passenger side of their van as she put on lipstick. He liked when his wife got dressed up. They rarely had an excuse to do it anymore so he guessed he had one reason to enjoy the annual banquet.
"She's excited to meet you, been bugging me about it since her first day," he said with a smile.
"Think she'll last?" Kathy asked as she tucked her lipstick back into her clutch.
"I hope so," he revealed as he watched his wife's eyes look from him to the window.
When they arrived, they found Olivia in the middle of faking a laugh at one of Munch's ill-fitting jokes. Elliot felt his breath still in his lungs. She wasn't wearing a pants suit. She had on a floor length, black silk dress that cascaded down her body. The silk was taut against her abdomen, and he could see the outline of her navel. The dress had tiny straps that held the fabric on her body. Her hair looked darker and silkier when paired with the dress, and she had little pins in it. She was the embodiment of darkness, smooth and collected. She was breathtaking.
"You must be Olivia," Kathy said as she extended her hand to his partner.
"You must be Kathy," she replied as she turned to his wife with a smile fitting itself across her painted lips, dark red lips. Their hands shook, and Elliot felt his clench. He knew he'd be dodging and avoiding questions once he and Kathy got home.
"So nice to meet you," Kathy said as she looked over Olivia, and Elliot knew he'd be sleeping on the couch that night. The secret was out; his partner was gorgeous, and there was no amount of denying it that would satisfy his wife.
Then to his surprise, they hit it off. Olivia ignored him most the night and sat beside his wife instead, as they swapped stories and talked about his kids. Kathy's face lost its defense, and she seemed to be genuinely enjoying telling Olivia stories about the early years of taking care of Maureen and Kathleen, while he was in the service.
Olivia fit with Kathy as seamlessly as she did with him, and it let him breathe easier. The two women in his life weren't at odds. They sat beside the man that tied them together and bonded over cocktails.
"You think Kathy misses coming to these things?" she asked as she crossed her legs in his direction. Her knees were close to brushing his.
"I think she misses getting tipsy with you," he laughed.
"I miss that," she admitted as she glanced to where her hands sat in her lap.
"Feels like you divorced her too," he joked but it landed heavy. Her eyes fell to his empty ring finger. He'd finally taken the step of taking it off a few months back. Divorced her. His mind was there, but his heart couldn't commit to the finality of putting his name down on a symbol of his greatest failure. The failure of his marriage.
"I'm going to go find Fin," she said as she stood and left him to contemplate how he ended up here, when eight years ago he'd been surrounded by all the people he held dear, now he was alone.