A/N: This chapter contains a flashback scene that happens before the events of season 1. It's set around the six-month mark that Elliot and Olivia worked together. Also, a huge thank you to awildmind for the angsty music suggestions and the awesome, incredible beta reading on this whole story!

Song: In My Veins by Andrew Belle.

Chapter 17- Olivia

Olivia took her stairs two at a time. She didn't need to be in a hurry, but habit took over. It was only 6:00 p.m. and she had the whole evening to be alone with her thoughts. Working Computer Crimes had given her regular hours, she didn't know what to do with all the free time. As she neared her door, she thought about taking a bath, maybe she'd have a glass of wine, hell, maybe she'd paint her toes. She had the time. She'd thought about asking Casey to go get drinks or dinner but then she decided she didn't really want to explain herself to anyone. Casey had more guts than Fin, and the last thing she needed was more inquiry into her sudden split from Elliot Stabler. Elliot. Days had passed and her phone was silent. She knew he was still too angry to speak to her. She deserved his silence.

If she'd come to his apartment and made him promise that taking things further wouldn't send him running, and then she showed up at work the next day to find him in the wind...yeah, she'd be crushed. Not just crushed, she'd be enraged, violent. She was half tempted to show up at his apartment and beg for his forgiveness, apologize for how she'd hurt him, but the saner side of her knew that such an encounter would end in them undressed and filled with regret. They needed the distance.

Her spirits had been low, she missed SVU, she missed Munch and Fin, she missed getting home at 11:45 p.m. with a thread of sanity remaining, she wanted her body to ache with other's trauma as she stood under the waterfall of her shower. She wanted to feel like she had a purpose. Staring at a screen for eight hours a day made her feel like she was slowly typing her way into an early grave. It'd been three days.

She missed him. She missed sitting across from him and watching him chew on the end of his pen cap. It was so infuriating and unsanitary, but she'd give anything to watch him do it. Anything besides the pride she'd have to give up after only being gone such a short time.

She approached her door and with a jump start to her heart, she realized someone was standing against it. She'd rehearsed the speech she'd been forming in her head since he'd left, since she couldn't say it properly in the locker room, but before she could commit to saying the words aloud, she realized the man at her door was Trevor Langan.

Fuck.

"I heard you had new hours!" he said in a sing-song tone that grated at her patience. The last thing she could deal with right now was Trevor. She'd been avoiding him for weeks and she especially didn't want to see him after she'd had Elliot's hand between her legs.

"Yeah Computer Crimes lets me off at a human hour," she said as she approached him and fished for her key. He didn't have one, nor would he ever.

"I wanted to surprise you since I haven't heard from you in awhile," he said as he breathed down her neck as she unlocked the door. She wanted to tell him to leave but he was already following her through the threshold of her entryway.

"Surprise me with what?" she said as she eyed his empty hands.

"Myself," he shrugged as he grabbed for her waist, but she turned out of his advances.

"I'm not in the mood," she said as she hung up her coat and dropped her personal effects onto her kitchen countertop.

"What's been going on with you?" he asked as concern washed over his face. She had to give him that, Trevor was a decent guy, outside the courtroom.

"Nothing Trevor, just not in the mood," she sighed, as she placed a hand on her hip and studied him briefly before turning for her living room.

"You know since you transferred, we aren't technically on opposite sides anymore," he commented as he followed her into her living room.

"We'll always be on opposite sides when it comes to what you do," She said with a pointed look.

"You want me to quit my job for you, Olivia Benson?" he teased, but she could hear the hint of sincerity in his tone that tugged at her heart, Trevor would do almost anything to make her happy and she treated him like he was week old leftovers in her fridge. What was wrong with her?

"No," she said as she sat on her couch, he sat beside her and she could feel his questions closing in on her. She was not in the mood for more inquiry.

"You want me to go?" he asked as he pulled her feet into his lap and she couldn't help but think about how Elliot had done the same move the last time she'd been in his apartment.

"I think I just want to unwind alone tonight," she nodded, and he paused for a minute before he said,

"You wanna talk about what happened?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The Gitano case…" he began but she cut him off.

"Nothing to talk about, it was a hard case, and it made me realize I needed a change. That's it."

"Alright," Trevor nodded as he reached for her hand. "You know whatever it is that's bothering you, I could make you feel better," he proposed as he pulled her closer to him. He let a hand rise to her neck, and he pushed back her hair. She was about to stop him when he stopped himself, as his eyes landed on the marks Elliot had left on her skin. She'd hid them all week with collared shirts, scarves, and her hair. She knew she was dodging his advances because she didn't want him to see them. She wanted to curse Elliot in that moment, he'd left all the evidence necessary to refute her denials.

"Who gave you these?" he asked, and she could see the surprise filter across his features. He knew they weren't exclusive, but it had been only him for months and she had a suspicion that she was the only woman he was currently sleeping with. He'd never indicated to her that there was anyone else, but she still made him use protection in case he was sleeping around. She kept as many boundaries between them as she could.

"We both said this wasn't exclusive," she said as she tried to move out of his grasp, but his hands fell to her chest and pulled open the buttons on her shirt, revealing more markings.

"Was it him?"

"Who?" she asked as she looked away.

"You know who!" he said, and she stood from her sofa because she couldn't handle him staring at her for another second.

"Actually I don't, Trevor, and I don't owe you an explanation."

"Actually you kinda do, Olivia! You've been towing me along for months, giving me every reason in the book for why we can't be more. I think I have the right to know who else you are sleeping with."

"I'm not sleeping with anyone else," she said, and that was technically the truth.

"Well, that's not how it looks," he said as he waved a hand in her direction. He was still sitting on her coach as he yelled at her, and she'd give anything for him to give up on her and leave.

"I don't know what you want me to say," she said, and she hated the way she sounded. He had every right to be mad at her, and she was acting so indifferent.

"Was it him? Just tell me; I need to understand," he said as he shook his head, and she knew what he was really asking was- Are you in love with Elliot Stabler? Is that why you can't commit to me?

"I don't know who you're talking about…"

"Was it Stabler?" he cut her off with the question, and she could tell he was not messing around; he wanted an answer.

"No! Why would you think that?" she said as she crossed her arms over her chest. She never considered herself a liar, but she knew she couldn't disclose that it was Elliot to a man they both worked with. She'd deny their involvement till the day she died; she had to.

"Because you've never let me kiss you like that; you would've killed me if I marked you," he said, and he was right.

"And you think that I'd let him?!" she said in a soft shout. She was such a hypocrite; she had let him. She'd let him kiss a trail so deep on her that no man would dare follow in the wake.

"Well, who else?" Trevor grated as he leaned his head back and looked up at her ceiling.

"Look, Trevor, Elliot is my partner. We've worked together a long time, and it's always been strictly professional. I know everyone likes to make their speculations, but the truth is nothing of that nature would fly in the work we do. It would never work, and neither of us would ever go there. It's not like that between us," she said as she lied through her teeth. It was the speech she'd perfected long ago when they first started getting questions from colleagues, suspects, and people on the street. Her words permeated through the room, causing him to lift his head to face her.

"Then tell me why you left SVU?"

"I already told you."

"All I'm saying is that it seems awfully convenient that you leave the unit you're passionate about the same week you turn up with…." he trailed off as his eyes bored holes into her marked neck and chest.

"Think whatever you want, but please just go; I'm done having this conversation," she said as she gestured towards her door. He stood and began pacing towards her.

"I believe you. If that's what you say, then fine; I just want to make sure you're alright."

"I'm fine," she said as she looked past him at the clock on the microwave in the kitchen.

"I think you should go back to SVU," he said as he reached for her hand, "I've worked against you long enough to know you won't be happy anywhere else."

"I appreciate it…" she said as she looked up at him. There was a lot that she liked about Trevor Langan, but there was also a lot that she'd rather leave unknown with him. His hand found her neck, and she sighed. She felt his thumb brush over the marks.

"I'm sorry I pushed you on it...I just...tell whoever it is that I want their spot," he said as a smile ghosted his lips. She hated how understanding he was. It would be much easier if he'd stormed out in a rage. Maybe that would make her want him.

Before she could answer him, her cell phone began to buzz from the kitchen. He leaned down and brushed her lips as he said,

"You work Computer Crimes now, so I know that isn't important," he smiled against her face, knowing she was fresh out of excuses. She kissed him back softly because she didn't have the heart to make him feel unworthy, but she knew she was only digging her grave deeper.

"You still want me to leave?" he asked as he circled her waist. She was so conflicted; she didn't want his mouth on her with the memory of Elliot still fresh. She also didn't want to live the rest of her life feeling like Elliot Stabler's property. He had no right. Maybe being with Trevor would heal whatever damage Elliot had caused. It had been days and he hadn't called. Maybe their partnership didn't mean as much to him as she thought it did, maybe he was relieved to be free of their complexity, maybe he'd meant everything he'd said on the Gitano case after all. Her cell phone buzzed a second time. It occurred to her that it might be him. Trevor moved her across the room without breaking their kiss. He pulled them onto the couch as the missed call went silent. She wondered if it would ring for a third time. If it was Elliot, she knew he'd show up at her door if she didn't answer after a third missed call. She thought about pushing off Trevor to check but knew her heart couldn't take it if the calls turned out to be a 1-800 number or her pharmacy. A minute passed and the phone was still silent. She felt Trevor's fingers on her belt, and she knew she had to make a decision.

Trevor began undoing her shirt buttons as her landline phone rang. No one called her on her landline. Her mother used to, before she died, but that was about it. Other than her mother, the only other callers were sales representatives or the alumni association at her university.

"I should pick that up," she said between kisses. He ran a hand through her hair as he said,

"If it's important they'll leave a voicemail." He pulled her closer to him and continued on her buttons, pushing the shirt off, leaving her in just her tank top. He leaned back in to kiss her again, as the voicemail tone clicked on. She felt her stomach drop ten floors as his voice invaded the moment, that she was half invested in to begin with.

"I tried your cell but your voicemail is full, you need to clear that out, I rang you here because I know only your mom called you on this number, so I thought that might startle you into picking up the phone..." he paused for a moment and she looked to Trevor, who seemed to be holding his breath.

"I had dinner with Kathy last night, and she told me to call you...said something about you needing me. Told her it was pretty clear that wasn't the case, but anyway…" Then his voice rose, the tone shifting, and shivers ran down her spine as he continued to speak. "If you were going to pull the plug on us, the least you could have done was say it to my face Olivia." His voice boomed through the room, and she could hear the raw hurt in his words. Her chest ached.

"Look, I told myself I wouldn't call you until I wasn't angry anymore...I'm not angry Liv,...I mean I am angry...look, when I said we couldn't be partners and that I didn't want to wreck this...this is what I meant...I meant I couldn't handle having you drop out of my life without a word…" Trevor scrubbed a hand down his face. Olivia wanted to jump up and click off the voicemail, but she knew that would only make this look worse. Her stomach was in knots over what he could say next.

"...This week has been…" she could hear him groan as he struggled with what exactly it was he wanted to say. "...I know you only did what I threw out there first, but shit Olivia, I didn't think you'd do it!" his voice spiked again, the anger rising in him like a tide. She pressed her eyes shut and swallowed, hoping he would hang up and leave her to feel terrible, but instead he continued. His voice lightened but was still low, the tone he took with children and the fragile, the anger dissipating. "...I still want you in my life...call me back Liv, let me see you, let me touch you again...… This thing is going to cut me off, but I wanted to say that. I wanted you to know that, if you need me...I... need you too." Then the line ended, and she heard her voicemail click off. She took in a long gulp of air and then she looked to Trevor. He was slowly shaking his head.

"I…," she began.

"Stop it," he said as he sat forward and placed his face in his hands. She stood from the couch because she didn't want to be in the same space as him. She wanted him gone so she could speak to her partner in private.

"Trevor I'm sorry…what you heard...," she said, and he looked up at her from his hands.

"What I heard sounded an awful lot like everything you just spent the past half hour denying," his tone was firm, and she could tell he was angry.

"It's complicated…"

"Answer something for me Olivia," he said as he rose to his feet and she nodded silently. "Are you in love with him?"

"Trevor...I'm…"

"Just answer me."

"No, I'm not… No," she said, and she could feel the burn at her throat.

"That's a shame, because it sure sounds like he's in love with you," he said as he shook his head and started towards her doorway.

"He's not, that's not…" she defended, as she followed him toward her doorway.

"You know what else is a shame?" he asked as he turned to face her once more, with his hand on her doorknob.

"What?" she sighed as she examined his broken face.

"If you'd have let me, I could've been in love with you too," he said as he leaned in and placed a goodbye kiss on her forehead, before he slipped out her door and out of her life for good.

She sat with her elbows against her knees, as she cradled her cell phone in her hand. Trevor's words stung, but her mind was only concentrated on Elliot. She knew she needed to call him back, or he'd get worried, but she had no idea where to start when he picked up her call. If you need me, I need you too. The way he rushed out the words before he clicked off was echoing in her ears. She felt helpless, almost nine years of speaking to him, and she didn't have the first clue how to actually talk to him.

She knew she owed him an apology- she owed him a better confession. I would've done the same thing, but she wasn't certain she had the strength to make it. She'd grown so accustomed to their secret language of avoidance and hidden meaning that facing this head on was making her chest grow tight with nerves. She didn't know if she had the answers he was looking for. She had no idea where to go from here. They'd made a mess.

She wanted to throw her phone across the room and bury herself under her blankets. She contemplated driving to his apartment and explaining in the only way she knew how, but she knew that would only leave them with more aftermath. She wanted him to knock on her door, come inside, and hold her while she slept. Maybe between the hours of evening and new day, their mingled breathing and tired bodies could admit what their minds weren't willing to relinquish.

She didn't know anymore. Maybe her teeth in his shoulder would be better.

Before she could agonize over it more, she felt her cell phone vibrate between her clasped palms. No more running. He had her cornered, and clearly, he intended to play with words. It wasn't either of their strong suits, but she feared he may be better than her. She took a deep breath in as she flipped the phone open but remained silent.

"Olivia?" his voice said in a low tone. She could make out the sound of traffic in the background. He said her name like it was safe in his mouth, and she felt her body respond. She cursed herself for how much he affected her.

"Yeah," she sighed as she rested her eyes shut for a moment. He was miles away, but she somehow felt exposed.

"You answered," he said, and his words were so quiet she almost felt they were spoken more for himself than for her.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, as if he was calling to inform her about a case. There was no case. She didn't know how to talk to him without that barrier. All this time, and she couldn't even speak her mind to the person she considered herself closest to.

"Ha! Yeah, everything is great, Liv," he said in a soft yet bitter laugh, and she could picture clear as day how his face would look as he spoke the words. Nothing was okay about how she'd left. Nothing was okay about the way he looked at her in the locker room after he'd hit Blaine. Nothing was okay about pretending she wanted to be at Computer Crimes.

"So you aren't missing me, then?" she asked, as she thought about how long it would take Cragen to assign him a new permanent partner. It felt so foreign to think about him saying, I'm Detective Stabler, and this is my partner, Detective, and then hear another person's name drop from his lips. He was silent as he considered her question. She feared she'd gone too far. He could push their boundaries, but the minute she did it, he always panicked.

"Did you hear my voicemail?"

"Yeah, so did Trevor Langan," she said and then regretted admitting that he'd been with her. Deflection had landed her in a bigger problem.

"I figured; I saw him leave your apartment," he groaned, and she could hear his hands bristle against his steering wheel.

"You were at my apartment?"

"Parked out front. I got worried when you weren't answering, and I was still in Manhattan, leaving the house," he explained, and then silence followed. His explanation didn't add up. He would have had to be sitting out front when he called for the timing to make sense. She wondered how long he had sat there and looked at her building, while she was inside with Trevor.

"El, so you know, Trevor was at my door when I got home. I didn't ask him here, and it's over."

"You ended it with him?" he asked, and then she could hear him clear his throat.

"Your voicemail did all the heavy lifting for me," she sighed, as she felt her fingers shake with energy. More silence ensued, and she could hear the hum of his stereo through the phone line.

"I could turn the car around," he offered, and her belly was hit with another pang. She realized he must have left when he saw Trevor come down.

"That's probably not the best idea…" she said as her mind once again neglected her body.

"I miss you," he said, proving her theory that he was better with the words than she was.

"We'll just hurt each other," she said as the reality of the words hit her. They'd just hurt each other. There was no good ending; there never had been. She could tell him to turn the car around, and they could give in, but she knew he'd hate her come morning, because his divorce papers wouldn't be signed, and she wouldn't be his partner ever again. Once they crossed the bridge, she knew it would burn behind them, and then they'd have no way of returning to what they'd meant to each other for nearly nine years.

"I don't want to hurt you, Livia," he said, the 'O' sounding like it had dropped from her name, as his accent crowded his words. He was speaking low and close together, the intensity of his tone pulling and pooling at all her nerves.

"I know that," she said as she let her forehead rest in her palm. She felt exhausted.

"You really…" he began, and she knew what he was struggling to say was, hurt me. She knew she needed to apologize.

"I should have told you before...I went right after the hospital-to Cragen. I thought it would hurt less if I did it before you did."

"I know...I know that's why, but you gotta know I was never going to do it."

"Then why did you say that?" she asked as a slight tremor ran down her legs as she waited for his answer.

"It all hit me; how much I'd messed up. It was about me, Liv. I knew I had to get myself in check," he said, and she didn't know which direction to take his words. She didn't know how into it she wanted to get, the last thing she had the strength for was reliving that case.

"But you were mad that I was out of check too!" she said as his words replayed in her mind. I know you would have taken the shot, Olivia.

"I wasn't mad! I realized you weren't lying when you said you would've done the same thing, and I knew we had a huge problem!" his voice was escalating. The last thing she wanted to do was provoke him while he was driving, but he wasn't giving her much of a choice. "If one of us could have kept a straight head we wouldn't be in this mess!"

"And you expected that to be me?! Don't you see how unfair that is," she shouted back and immediately regretted her tone. They were screaming at each other over the phone like a pair of teenagers.

"I didn't know until you were holding that gun at my face, I didn't know…"

"Didn't know what?" she said as she felt the fear rising in her throat.

"I didn't know how hard it would be," he whispered, his shouts crashing down to barely audible omissions.

"Elliot, you thought it would be easy for me to cause your death? How could you think that?"

"People lose partners sometimes, in the field…you go in knowing it's a chance; everyday there is a chance that could happen."

"I know. I've always known that! I've carried all this pressure to protect you all these years, because so many people depend on you. Your wife and your kids, they need you, and it's my job to make sure they never have to go without you... and you're right, I didn't know...I didn't know until I had the gun pointed at you…that I need you too," she said as she tried with everything in her to keep a lid on the full truths that were threatening to escape. She could hear him breathing as he absorbed her words, and the silence was dragging on. She felt ridiculous that she'd admitted that to him.

She'd been alone her whole life; she'd never needed a damn soul. She learned how to make a sandwich for herself before she could ride a bike, she knew how to mix a cocktail by age ten, and she could forge a signature better than any other kid in school. She learned from a young age that wanting from anyone ended in heartache, so she made it her mission not to be dependent on anyone, not to need anyone.

They were sitting on an all-night stake out. It was February, and the windows were frosted. She'd been working with Elliot Stabler for almost six months. She blew heat into her hands as he adjusted the controls for the tenth time.

"Munch and the new guy should be thanking their lucky stars they aren't out here right now," he grumbled as he picked up his cold coffee and held it in his gloved hands. Snow began falling mid-stakeout, and the visibility out of their windows was hindering most chances of glimpsing their suspect.

"Tell me about it," she grumbled as she looked over at her partner. She let her eyes take in his jawline and neck, which disappeared into a zip-up sweatshirt. He had a black beanie over his ears, and it was the first time she had seen him look so casual. The air in the car was tight, and her senses were overwhelmed by the smell of his aftershave and the laundry soap that his wife washed his clothes with.

"About four more hours till sunrise, four hours for him to show," he said absently, and she groaned, her legs already stiff in the passenger seat.

"Tell me something interesting," he said as he popped his knuckles to relieve some boredom tension.

"What do you want to know?" she said as she thought about the things they'd covered already. He'd told her a lot about his family and his life, but she kept most things about herself private.

"Got any nicknames?" he asked as he turned to her with a smirk on his face. She hadn't been working with him long, but she couldn't deny the way Elliot Stabler brought frequent smiles to her face. He was serious most of the time, but every so often he'd crack a joke or ask a question that would have her sides feeling weak. She found herself wanting to tell him things.

"What kind of nicknames?" she said with the rise of an eyebrow. He chuckled as he said,

"I don't know, when you were a kid, I guess? We call my kids all kinds of ridiculous things."

"My mom called me Libbie," she said as the nickname stung her lips. He shifted his shoulders in her direction as he studied her reddened nose for a moment. She was freezing.

"How did that come about?"

"I think it was supposed to be Livvie; I would have liked that, but the v's sounded more like b's when she drank," she said as she moved her eyes from him to the frosted window. She didn't know why she'd killed the mood with the sad childhood tidbit.

"She drank a lot?" he asked in a soft tone that made her feel comfortable admitting the truth.

"She did- she does...I'm sorry; I didn't mean to throw that out there. Your turn to tell me something interesting."

He rested his head against the seat as he kept his eyes on her.

"Why'd she drink?"

"Why does anyone do anything…?"

"You don't talk about yourself much, Benson, hard to get to know you."

"You know what you need to know about me."

"I'd like to know more," he said as he cleared his throat.

"You never asked me why I picked this unit," she said as she shifted so she was facing him. The only thing between their bodies was the center console.

"Well, you haven't asked me either," he retorted.

"Why did you pick Special Victims?" she asked as she realized she wanted his answer. When she first joined the unit, she was suspicious of most men who would choose to surround themselves with the utter depravity of rape and sexual assault. She feared any man who would choose to be in that line of work was probably as sick as the perverts. He maintained eye contact with her in the dark car as he began to speak. She'd learned that Elliot Stabler wasn't a man of many words, but in the early hours of the morning, in a parked car somewhere in the Bronx, he spoke to her like he had all the time in the world.

"I had my first daughter when I was seventeen. I guess it changed the way I saw the world. The whole pregnancy I sulked that I wouldn't be going off to state school to party my ass off and sleep with sorority girls. Before Maureen those were my plans," he said as he laughed and shook his head at his own young naivety. "I enlisted in the marines instead, like my father. It gave me a way to put myself through school for free after deployment, so I could also support a family. I saw some things overseas- how women were treated, both female soldiers and native women. I saw a lot of shit excused in the military. I was too stupid and afraid to say much back then. I just accepted that stuff like that happened, in a man's world. Then I came back, and my baby was growing up. I realized she was going to be this whole person, with this whole future ahead of her. It horrified me that she would be growing up in the same world that excused so much harm. Then it really terrified me that it was my job to protect her. I was her father, and yet I knew that there was so much out there that was out of my control. By the time she was four or five, and Kathleen was a baby, I started to notice the attention our family would get. You hear stories on the news about kids being abducted right under their parents' noses, and suddenly I couldn't sleep anymore. I was twenty-two, my friends were still sleeping with sorority girls, and I had two little girls who depended on me for everything," he furrowed his brow as he let his words settle in the sedan. He gave a small smile which let her know he was self-conscious that maybe he'd said too much. She gave a soft nod, and he continued, "And other than that, I think that sex should be one of the best parts of life, not the worst. I don't want women to be scared. I want kids to be kids. I hate the shit we deal with. I hate the perps, but if it helps at least one vic, I feel like I'm making more of a difference than I would in any other unit."

"Thanks for telling me all that…" she said as she took in his face. His eyes were calm, and his breathing was steady. He was content to sit there and tell her all he had on his mind.

"Anytime, Benson," he shrugged as he smiled at her again.

"My mom was raped," she said as she rested her head against the passenger seat. He held her gaze as he urged her to go on. "She was in grad school at the time, happened the same way we hear it does every day, walking alone in the dark and snuck up on."

"How old were you?"

"I wasn't...she only has me because of the rape. I don't know my father; they never caught him," she said, as she felt the tears rise in her eyes. She felt like such a fool. She'd never told anyone in the way she'd told him. Cragen knew because she had to put it on her hiring paperwork, and she'd told the department psych evaluator so she could get the job, but she'd never told anyone by choice. Even though she'd known the facts of her conception her entire adult life, speaking the truth out loud burned her unexpectedly.

"She tried to be a good mom, but she needed the booze to cope, and I don't blame her. I could never imagine what she went through raising me."

"I'm sure you were a great kid," he said, and she could feel a few tears threatening to slip. She didn't blink them away; she let them well against her eyes. She was surprised that she didn't feel the need to hide.

"I tried to be. I picked this unit because all these years later, and I'm still trying to understand my mother, find some justice for her, for all the women like her," she said, knowing the truth would be safe with him. He didn't offer her a tissue or tell her not to cry. He just watched as she finally let a weight off her chest that she didn't realize she'd been carrying for so long. Once the tears subsided slightly, she added,

"And besides that, I also think sex should always be about pleasure, not control."

"Glad we agree on that," he grinned, and she looked away from him for a moment. They talked about sex in all of its vile forms all day long but talking about it in its intended form made her heartbeat pound a little faster.

"It's hard sometimes with this job."

"What's hard?" he asked, and even though she'd stopped looking at him, she could still sense he was looking at her.

"For it to feel like pleasure…" she revealed, and she wasn't sure why she'd told him that. Discussing her sex life with colleagues didn't seem professional, but she also knew that if anyone would understand, it would be him. She'd heard that in Special Victims partners developed a strange intimacy, and she realized this was how- in parked cars where sad truths could be admitted, truths that couldn't be shared with a lover or a spouse. He inhaled, and he seemed to be considering his words.

"I know… it takes its toll. Sometimes it's hard to not see the job everywhere,"

"I see the job whenever I look in the mirror," she admitted as she chanced a glance back at him. His face was overcome with sadness at her truth.

"You deserve pleasure, Olivia," he said, and her body stirred at his words. She knew in that moment that he could see exactly how she'd denied herself her entire life, denied herself of feeling worthy of anything good, denied herself of happiness. The sadness he felt for her almost made her feel sad for herself.

"Thanks…" she laughed as she exhaled through her nose. He shook his head at his own statement, knowing that it was toeing an invisible line. He looked to the dash to make sure their suspect hadn't shown. After some beats of silence he spoke again.

"Thank you for telling me that," he said, and she knew they had returned to the topic of her mother.

"I don't talk about it often."

"Did you ever try to find him?"

"Yeah, been over the report a thousand times," she said, and she could sense there was something he was holding back.

"Did you expect that?" she asked because the curiosity got the better of her.

"I…" he began, and then he laughed lightly, "I couldn't figure out for a bit what made you different; I knew it was something, but I wasn't sure what."

"Different?"

"Better- you've got a lot of drive, Benson," he said with a smile.

"Thanks."

"I like when you tell me things about you; you're pretty fascinating."

"Fascinating, huh?" she said, her laugh returning as the tears retreated from where they had rested against her eyelids, refusing to fall.

"Yeah, tell me what you eat for breakfast."

"A bagel and orange juice," she laughed. Once her tears dried all the way, he spoke again and asked, "Can I call you Livvie?" His smile told her that he was joking. She was thankful for the lightness.

"Absolutely not," she said as she slapped his arm playfully.

"I want to see you," he said, and she could hear the emotion in his voice.

"Elliot, I want that too but...it's…"

"It's what? Too complicated," he said, and she could hear his car stop at a light. She almost prayed he'd make a U-turn. When she didn't respond he continued, "Let's try, let's get dinner or something."

"I'm not sure I know how to talk to you now that you aren't my partner."

"I'll always be your partner, Liv. I'm still me; nothing has really changed."

"What are we going to talk about, there won't be a case..or..." What she was really trying to say was there wouldn't be enough boundaries to remind them why they can't have each other. The job had always been the same thing simultaneously keeping them together and keeping them apart.

"We'll talk about what normal people talk about. It will be fun."

"Right," she said as she clung to his words. It will be fun, nothing about needing him was fun.

"After work on Friday, I'll come over, alright?" he said, and he spoke to her like he could lose her at any second.

"Alright," she confirmed, as she hung up the call.