A/N: I lied. There will be two more chapters after this one- for a grand total of 31 chapters. Expect those soon, as well as a treat from awildmind! I finally finished writing the last two chapters and I'm excited to share them with you all. This chapter deals with slightly heavier subject matter and a discussion about family. This was a part of their story, and a difference in views between them that I felt needed to be explored in the context of their changing relationship. I hope you enjoy and as always, I love your reviews!

Song: Any Other Way by Bahamas

Chapter 29- Olivia

December 12th, 2006 / 4 Weeks Later

She turned the key to his apartment, dropping her coat on his hook and making her way into the quiet space. The lights were off, and she thought for a moment that he wasn't home.

He'd been upstate renewing his firing certification all week. She'd been helping Fin with a case. His son Randall knew the victim, and it was taking its toll on Fin. She'd been thankful to have a break from Elliot at work because it was becoming more difficult to keep their boundaries clear, but she'd missed him too. He'd touch her out of instinct, just a hand to her back, but even that could be incriminating when they'd never touched like that before. She'd caught Fin's side eyes, and she knew it was a matter of time until one of them slipped up and gave it away. Their little secret. They took care in making sure it didn't seem like they left work together, even though they were always headed to the same destination. Most nights it was his apartment, but sometimes it was hers. Four weeks had passed, and they'd somehow managed to avoid the landmine that was their work. They'd fallen into a rhythm of being Olivia and Elliot, not Benson and Stabler.

She took off her shoes as she padded into the living room. She was met with the sight of him sleeping shallowly on the couch. The remote was under his hand where it rested on his chest. She grinned at the sight of him sleeping. The room was dark; the sun must have set after he'd slipped into sleep from his sitting up position. She took the remote from his hand, tossing it across the couch as she lowered herself onto his lap, running her hands down his chest. His eyes opened, and he sucked in a sharp breath as he became aware of her on top of him.

"Jesus Christ, Liv," he said as he blinked the sleep from his eyes, his hands immediately falling to her jean covered thighs, making sure she was real and not a figment of his imagination.

"I didn't mean to scare you," she whispered as she lowered her chest against him, and his hand rose up to her back, to wrap his arm around her, holding her against him. He looped his other arm under her folded knees.

"How was work?" he asked as he stroked her hair. She was afraid that she was getting used to coming home from work and having him hold her. She didn't know if he was a habit she should keep or break. All she did know was that he was addictive, and she gave into him without thinking anymore. Four weeks, and he'd dissolved some of her strongest safeguardings against him.

"You come back next week, right?" she asked, her words pressing into the space between his collarbones.

"You miss me?" he laughed, and she felt it through his chest.

"Fin doesn't make me come in the cribs," she sighed, as her mind flashed to a week ago when he'd gotten her off with his hand in between hours of mindless paperwork.

"He better not," he said, and she looked at him so she could take some joy in the darkness in his eyes. She laughed at how he never failed to radiate possessiveness. "I'd kill him," he added for extra measure.

"But to answer your question, I did miss you all week."

"I'm right here, Liv."

"At work," she clarified, and he sighed.

"You know I can make you come at home," he teased, but she was frustrated that he was missing her point. A week of him being upstate, and it startled her how much she'd miss not having him at work.

"That's not what I'm saying," she gulped.

"I know…" he said as he ran a finger over her mouth, just grazing her bottom teeth. "I miss you too."

"But you'll be back on Monday."

"Liv…"

"El…" she challenged, darting her eyes up to him.

"Eventually we have to make a decision here."

"Not tonight," she said sternly as she locked her gaze onto him.

"But soon, we have to...firearm training reminded me why this is a problem, a conflict."

"It doesn't have to be."

"It is, and no good cop would overlook it."

"I'm a good cop, Elliot."

"Yeah, I know," he nodded, as he cupped the side of her face, his lips finding hers. He broke the kiss by saying, "And that is why I'll submit the papers as soon as you give me the go ahead." His words shook her to the core. They were no longer discussing divorce papers; they were dancing around transfer papers.

"I can't lose you."

"I'm right here."

"As my partner."

"I am your partner," he countered, and she knew he meant it in their new context. His acceptance of their transition into whatever it was they were made her more uneasy. He was so at ease, and she was unraveling at how their lives were changing.

"And if we don't work out?"

"Like you said, we can't have both. You can't try to protect this by holding onto me at work," he sighed, his honesty cutting through her. They'd taken the step, and if they didn't work out, she'd lost him for certain, at home and at work. She worried it was only a matter of time.

"So you'll work some desk job in Jersey, and I'll be alone or stuck with some rookie, and then we have sex on the weekends?! That's what you want?" she groaned as she sat up in his lap and searched his eyes.

"Olivia...," he sighed, his frustration with her spreading across his tired face.

"You brought it up," she said as she shook her head at him, the anger coming off her.

"Let's go to bed," he said as he lifted her with him as he stood, forcing her to her feet.

"Maybe I should go," she countered as she put two steps of distance between them. He reached out and yanked on her hand.

"No, you're going to come to bed, and you're going to think about how the only one ruining this is you," he said pointedly as he basically dragged her to his bedroom. He pulled back his covers and waited for her to get in. "Well…?" he said, as he watched how she stood defeated in his doorway.

"Maybe I really should go, El…" she said as she folded her arms over her chest. His certainty that they had to give up working together made her want to be far away from him.

"Not tonight," he said, as he moved back across the bedroom and began undressing her. His movements were gentle as he striped her from her work clothes, taking extra pause as he worked on the buttons and the collar of her shirt. He took off her bra and panties, holding onto them like he was collecting truce flags, before discarding them on the ground. "Not tonight," he repeated as he guided her to his side of the mattress and settled beside her, pulling her body to him so he could fall asleep. She swore she heard him mumble, "not ever," as she settled into his embrace and forced herself to let go of her fears, for the night.

One Week Later

Her period was late. A whole week late.

"Where'd you go?" he asked from across the table, the food he'd made them for dinner between them. She knew that he meant where did she go mentally, because she'd barely spoken three words to him the entire night.

"Nowhere," she said as she sipped her wine and then set it down, thinking seven days late was reason enough to go easy on the glass he'd poured her after work.

"You look like you're going to be sick," he said, and she wished he knew how ill-fitting that comment was. She needed to tell him. She should take a test first, to see if there was anything to bother telling him, but the thought of walking to a drug store and purchasing a pink box made her want to swallow down the rest of her wine glass.

"I'm late," she said as she pushed her dinner around with her fork.

"Late for what? I like to think I'm your only plans for the weekend," he said as he kept his eyes on his food, clearly not sensing the terror in her tone.

"Late," she repeated, and he looked up with a confused expression on his face, his eyebrows knitting together as his eyes swept over her. She let her lips begin to part in order to clarify but the realization hit him in that moment, his mouth hollowing as it interrupted her unspoken words.

"Oh," he said as he let his fork clatter against his plate. She watched as the information sunk into his gaze, and it crushed her that Kathy had spoken the same words to him when he was seventeen.

"I, I'm…I still need to take a test" she stated flatly. She pushed out her chair and stood. She couldn't sit across from him, look at him, wait for him to react to something she hadn't processed herself.

"Okay," he said, and she heard him push out his chair too. "Why don't you finish eating," he said, as if she hadn't just imparted life-altering information to him.

"I'm not hungry," she said as she leaned against his sink and tried to steady her breathing. She closed her eyes as she cursed herself for even saying anything. She should have taken care of it on her own, but there was a large part of herself that wanted him to know from the beginning. She stood in solitude in the kitchen for a few moments before he appeared in front of her.

"Are you okay?" he asked, and she couldn't help but notice how his eyes fell to her abdomen.

"I shouldn't have said anything," she said as she looked at his kitchen floor.

"It's not that surprising." His statement jarred her. She looked up startled at what she'd just heard come out of his mouth.

"What?!"

"It's not like we've been careful; actually, we haven't been at all."

Unless you tell me not to. She hadn't spoken a damn word in the name of caution.

"So you expected this to happen?!" she asked, her voice raising as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"You didn't?" he said with squinted eyes, "Christ, Olivia, I was pretty certain it was what you wanted."

"What the hell would make you think that?" she said in a measured shout, careful not to lose control to the point of the neighbors hearing them fight.

"I know how much you love kids, how much you wa…"

"Don't tell me what I want, Elliot," she snapped.

"So, it's not what you want?" She couldn't believe him; she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Are you crazy? We are a month into this, and you're trying to get me pregnant?"

"Well, you've done nothing to stop me!"

"I'm not exactly young, Elliot! I didn't feel a need to be overly careful, and besides, nothing good ever comes my way anyway," she said in her moment of haste, and she watched as his blue eyes deflated. Nothing good, he was so good, he was so good to her, and she was hellbent on pushing him away. No wonder he was trying to implant a reason for her to stay. God, they were destructive; how could they even entertain bringing a child into their instability. "That's…. I'm, that was selfish," she amended, but he looked away from her. He sucked in a breath and then turned back to face her. She could tell he was holding something back behind the tightness of his jaw.

"So, a baby would be good, if one came your way- that would be a good thing" he clarified, his gaze testing her with the gravity of his words.

"That's not...no," she swallowed. She wasn't ready for this.

"I'm trying to understand, Liv," he said, the use of her nickname signaling that he wasn't as furious as he looked.

"Not like this."

"Not with me?" he corrected, but she wanted to make him unspeak it. Of course, with him-only with him.

"That's not what I'm saying."

"What are you saying?"

"Not yet," she sighed as she forced herself to meet his eyes.

"Why not?" he challenged, his eye contact holding steady.

"Because we have nothing figured out!" she called out, begging him to take back the offer of everything she'd ever wanted with him: he was giving it so recklessly, without consideration for all the reasons it couldn't be good.

"Why are you acting like this would be so bad? Parenthood is…"

"Please stop," she said as she cut him off with a curt wave of her hand through his words.

"Come on, Olivia, we'd be great parents."

"You're a great parent," she corrected as she shook her head, "I have no idea how I'd be."

"You'd be great, Liv," his need to assure her, even as they were yelling at each other in the kitchen, sent goosebumps along her arms. She was silent for some moments before she said,

"What if I'm like her?" She spoke her biggest fear, the fear that held her back from living the kind of life she secretly dreamed of. She wanted to be a mother, more than anything, but she'd never allow herself to become her mother.

"You wouldn't be." He was so sure of her, and it made her more certain that she could prove him wrong and lose him. "Besides, I'm not talking about you. I'm talking about us, we're a good team." Good, that word was taunting her with all the space it was threatening to consume in her life.

"We can't agree on anything since this started! How would we agree on raising a child?!"

"We agree on the important things."

"What's that?"

"Safety, empathy, honesty, good cop, bad cop- it'd be a cake walk, Liv," he said as he stepped closer to her, "Our baby would be amazing; I don't have a single doubt."

"Elliot, why would you even want this?! You have a family; your kids are basically grown. It would be a mess! What the hell would we tell people? What would we tell your kids?" she unleashed the questions, the reality, because he seemed oblivious to how this would completely alter and restructure their lives.

"So if this is happening," he said as he gestured to her stomach, "What was your plan, because you keep speaking in hypotheticals as if you didn't tell me a moment ago that you're late."

"I'm going to handle it, figure it out…"

"Handle it? So, if you are pregnant, how do you plan on handling it?"

"It doesn't have to be an issue," she swallowed, and his eyes blazed with furry.

"You're not suggesting what I think you're suggesting," he cleared his throat as his brow furrowed with immense tension, waiting for her to confirm her heartless implications.

"Elliot…"

"No! No, don't 'Elliot' me! Are you serious right now? You'd get rid of our child because you're not ready for this! I…" he scraped a hand over his opened mouth as he looked at her in total and complete shock. She knew they had different feelings towards abortion, but her baseless innuendoes had clearly stricken a chord in him that she had no idea how to defuse.

"It's what my mother should have done," she muttered more to herself than to him, but her self-pitying confession led him to look at her again. His eyes were glazed over.

"You know what, Olivia," he said as he stepped into her space. "Do you have any idea how much you hurt me when you say stuff like that, how much it would have impacted me if I didn't have you in my life?" His words were forceful, and it occurred to her how selfish she was being: she'd had no regard for how her own deep-seeded issues would wound him.

"I'm sorry; I never meant that I'd do that... if this is happening….I'd need time….to figure it out, that's what I meant…I meant that it doesn't have to be an issue for you," she said, even though there was some truth to the conclusion he'd jumped to. She was haunted by her own entrance into this world. She knew that, if it had been a different time, she likely wouldn't have. He bit down on his bottom lip as he swept his eyes over her, seeming to assess if she was worth the hassle.

"I forgive you. I'm angry, but I forgive you." He shook his head as he extended a hand to her. "Come here," he said, and she gave him her hand. He pulled her into an embrace. "You are making this hard, but I'm not giving up on you, but let me make this clear, if you do anything to harm any child of mine, that is the only thing that will make me give up on you." His words spared no mercy, and she nodded her understanding into his chest. He put some distance between them as he gripped her forearms. "You're mine," he said in a throaty whisper as he stroked the side of her cheek, "and any child of yours will be mine, and that is my issue- I want it to be my issue. I want it to be mine too," he said as he placed a firm palm against her stomach.

The Next Night

It was 3 a.m. as she turned her key, opening his door and slipping inside. She'd left his apartment the night before after their conversation in the kitchen. She told him she needed space to process, and he agreed that he had to get a hold of his own thoughts. They were close to consuming each other in a nightmare of distrust, and they both needed space as a reminder that they knew each other better than most anyone knew anyone. She'd gone home and taken three pregnancy tests.

Now she'd returned, leaving her shoes and coat at the door and then going to his bedroom. She watched from the doorway as he slept, and she wasn't certain if she should wake him, but she needed to be with him now. She slipped out of her jeans and removed her bra, only keeping on her t-shirt as she crawled into his bed. For all she knew, he was still livid with her and wanted her nowhere near his bed, but she needed him. He stirred just slightly as he instinctively opened his arms to her. She settled against him, pressing her face into his neck as he mumbled her name. She was thankful that he still welcomed her after her divisive behavior yesterday. She was immensely lucky that he loved her: who else would put up with her?

"You okay, Livia?" he said in a drowsy voice, her name coming out like a slur as he tightened his hold on her.

"I'm fine, go back to sleep," she said.

"What time is it?" he murmured, his eyes still closed.

"3 a.m."

"I'm glad you came back. I hate fighting with you" he sighed. She was silent for some time as she listened to his breathing. She could sense he was still awake, waiting.

"The test was negative," she whispered to him, and just like that, she'd ended the nightmare, and the dream.