AN: This was a pretty hard chapter for me to write (I had another ending that I scrapped), and I'd planned a really long introduction, but I think that it's probably best for you guys to just read. We do see more of Jonathan in this chapter, again through Luke's recollection of him, and then some through an inebriated Olivia. Please leave your thoughts in a review & thanks for reading.

Chapter 4 – Red Wine and its Various Effects

After his birthday party, Elliot cannot shake the uneasy feeling that had settled in his stomach the moment he'd seen Olivia's hand touch Brian's thigh. He didn't know why the small gesture had bugged him so much. Brian had asked if he and Olivia had something going on, and Elliot's answer had been no, because that was the truth. He and Olivia's relationship had never been anything other than friendly. They were close and had been that way since they met, but they had never even skirted the line between friendship and romance.

He had thought about it before; of course, he had thought about it. Elliot had thought about sucking all of his reservations and fears up and just asking her out to lunch, but he'd never gotten around to it. Really, it wasn't his fault, he told himself, because it was impossible not to think about wanting something more when spending time with a woman like Olivia. He tried to tell himself that thinking about something that could maybe one day happen meant absolutely nothing. And anyway, she hadn't ever done anything to make him believe she was even remotely interested in him, and so that was that.

But even as he tells himself all of this, that tense, anxious feeling curls up in a corner of his stomach and refuses to leave, and he can't help but think that maybe he'd messed up and missed out on his chance to explore something amazing. That maybe he and Olivia would have worked if he'd just mustered up the courage to ask if she'd ever felt the same way.

He does his best to ignore the feeling. However, he comes to work the next couple of days a little glummer than usual, moving a little slower, dragging his feet and being a little ornerier. By Wednesday, the whole precinct is frustrated with him. His captain had just sent him out of an interrogation because he'd gotten a little too heated too quickly, telling him to clear his head and focus on some paperwork.

Naturally, as soon as he sits down, Brian walks into the precinct looking for him. Elliot exhales, sitting up at his desk as Brian heads over and sits down in the chair next to Elliot's desk. Fin, at his nearby desk, looks up as well.

"Hey," Fin says. "What are you doing here?"

"Uh, I had some questions?" Brian says, addressing Elliot. "It's my lunch break, and I wanted to just stop by and get your opinion on some date ideas since you know Olivia and all. I've been trying to figure out where to take her and I just can't think of anything good enough."

"We're really just friends," Elliot says, holding his hands up and shaking his head. "I don't think I'm going to be much help…" He does not want to discuss date ideas with Brian, especially considering the fact that he was taking out someone that Elliot couldn't stop thinking about. In fact, the only thing that had kept him sane over the past couple of days was the knowledge that there was a chance the date wouldn't go well, and Brian and Olivia wouldn't be compatible. But now, here was Brian, asking for his help, his ideas. Elliot felt sick.

"Please," Brian says. His cheeks darken, and he sighs, leaning in and dropping his voice. "I mean, she seems really, really nice, and really classy, which I know nothing about. I'm terrible with dates, and I spend most of my free time at cop bars nursing beers, so you know, I don't really know where to take her."

"Look, why don't you just take her to dinner?" Elliot asks, his eyebrows knitting together. "You make it sound like she's intimidating."

"I just don't want to mess this up," Brian pleads, meeting Elliot's eyes. "And I want to do something special. Come on, just tell me what kind of things she's into?"

"I don't know her all that well," Elliot starts, but Brian rolls his eyes, looking at him expectantly.

"I'll take whatever you've got," he says, sitting back in the chair. Elliot sighs. He had set the two of them up. It wasn't fair for him not to help. So, he quickly racks his brain for pieces of information about Olivia he'd picked up over the last 5 years. Eventually, he begins talking, slowly.

"She's a big fan of the arts," he says. "When her husband was alive, he used to take her to museums, gallery openings, opera, concerts, plays, that sort of thing, you know? She likes getting dressed up, going out and being treated well."

"Wait," Brian says, holding out his hand to stop Elliot. "You said when her husband was alive? What happened?"

"There was a car accident," Elliot says. "Not this previous January, but one before that. But don't bring that up."

"Right," Brian says, nodding, even though his face is a little white. "Okay, so what do you think I should do? You said she likes concerts, but is she like a rock and roll kind of girl? Because I do know this bar where a cool band plays…"

"No," Elliot says, shaking his head and looking at Brian in disbelief. "Are you serious? Did you hear me? She likes nice, upscale stuff. Places she can wear dresses to. In terms of music, she listens to a lot of jazz. I mean, to be fair, she does own a fair amount of The Cure t-shirts, but that may have been a high school phase…"

"Okay, okay," Brian says, trying to pull Elliot back. "So, you have any idea of where I should take her? I mean, I don't spend all that much time in museums." Elliot sighs, rolling an idea over in his mind. Eventually, he decides to just say it.

"There are a ton of nice museums in New York and I think she's been to most of them. But there's a paint and sip place in Chelsea," he says, his voice a bit resigned. "That's where I'd take her. She'll like it. I don't think she drinks much, but she'll enjoy painting. And then you can take her out for a late dinner or something afterward. She likes Italian, French, Indian; anything but Greek - she got food poising once and hasn't been able to eat it since."

"That's a great idea," Brian says, smiling widely now. He stands and shakes Elliot's hand animatedly, looking excited. "Thanks again Elliot, for setting us up and for helping me out with this."

"You really like her, huh?" Elliot says, leaning back in his chair. Brian shrugs sheepishly.

"I mean, we haven't gone out yet, so I don't know for sure…but I really think I will," he says, still smiling. He turns and waves goodbye to Fin before nodding at Elliot. "I'll tell you how it goes alright? See you guys later."

"Bye," Fin calls. After Brian leaves, his flicks his eyes at Elliot, who is staring at a sheet of paper on his desk, but not reading. His jaw is tight. "Elliot."

No response. Fin calls a little bit louder this time.

"Elliot!"

"Huh?" Elliot says, looking up now. Fin looks at him for a second before shaking his head, which makes Elliot grunt. "What?"

"You like Olivia," Fin says. There's a moment of silence and Fin nods. "Yeah, I thought so. Why didn't you tell Brian? And why in the hell did you set them up?" Elliot wants to deny it, wants to say that Fin is off base, but he feels like he needs to talk to someone about why something so stupid is bothering him.

"I never initiated anything," Elliot says eventually. "We are just friends. And it's not fair for me to call dibs on someone that isn't even interested in me."

"You just said you never initiated anything," Fin points out. "How do you know she wasn't just trying to make sure you felt the same way?" Elliot's quiet for a minute, and eventually, he shakes his head.

"I don't," he says eventually. "But I couldn't keep Cassidy away from her just because I've wondered if we could end up together."

"Whatever you say, man," Fin says, scoffing. "But, if they end up getting married or something, just know that you brought it on yourself."

It feels like Elliot's just gone down a steep hill on a roller-coaster, the way his stomach drops. He grunts a little, trying to assure himself that Fin had only been teasing to get a reaction out of him. Eventually, he looks back up.

"Hey, Fin," he says. Fin looks up. "How did you know? That I liked Olivia. I mean, I didn't even really know until this whole thing happened." Fin stares at him, his eyebrows lowered.

"Come on," Fin says. "You know what kind of foods she eats, what kind of music she likes, what band t-shirts she owns."

"That doesn't necessarily mean I want to be more than friends," Elliot says. Fin raises his brows.

"What kind of music do I like to listen to?" he says. Elliot starts to open his mouth and he cuts him off. "It's not rap. And that's prejudiced."

"No idea," Elliot admits. Fin nods.

"And, for good measure," he says. "You had a place to take her on a date picked out in your head. There's no other reason you'd remember a place in Chelsea that offers paint and sip sessions." Elliot thinks about this, slowly realizing that Fin was right.

"Wow," he says, laying his head on his desk. "I'm pathetic."

"It's okay," Fin says. "You know, maybe won't get married. They might just shack up in an apartment in Soho and buy a little dog or something."

Elliot sighs.

•

Friday night comes fast for Olivia. Maybe because she spends the whole week worrying about her date. She had not been asked out on a date since her husband died, and even before that, the only man she'd ever been a serious relationship with was Jonathan. He was her first, and he was her world until he passed. And yet, here she was, almost two years after his death, somehow still breathing without him, even though there was a time when she would have thought it impossible.

She sits at her vanity, perfecting her makeup. She pauses for a moment, takes a second to look at herself. Her hair, which had been cropped this summer, was growing out into a bob that just covered her ears. She hadn't let it grow out for a long time, and she briefly wonders if she'll ever gain the courage to let it fall to her shoulders again. Her eyes move downwards, to her dress. She was wearing a black dress, casual, but form-fitting. When she'd called Brian to see what they were doing, he'd told her in a nervous voice just to wear whatever she felt comfortable in. Olivia enjoyed getting a chance to dress up, and so she'd decided on one of her "feel-good" dresses, one of the pieces that always made her feel more confident. She hoped it worked tonight.

There's a knock on her bedroom door. She knows who it must be, and so she smiles before glancing over at the door.

"Come in," she says. Luke enters, first peeking his head in and then shyly making his way over to sit on her bed. He watches his mom as she turns back to the vanity, outlining her lips with a liner. "Everything okay out there?"

"Yeah," Luke says. "Amy turned on Rolie Polie Olie and Grace is watching that."

"Thank you for being a good sport," Olivia says, smiling at Luke through the mirror. "You can watch your shows on the big TV after she goes to bed, okay? And remember, there's chili in the slow-cooker, that's dinner tonight."

"Okay," Luke says, swinging his legs. He watches him mom for a moment, his eyes following her hand as she applies lipstick. "Where are you going tonight?"

"I have a date," Olivia says. She glances back at her son, tilting her head. "Is that okay with you?"

"Yeah, I guess," Luke says, looking down and playing with his fingers before raising his eyes to meet his mother's. "Is it with Dickie's dad?"

"Elliot?" Olivia says, her eyebrows raising. It seems that everyone thinks she and Elliot are dating. "No. Where'd you get that idea?"

"I don't know," Luke says, jerking his shoulders and looking back down quickly.

"Dickie's dad and I are just friends," Olivia says, setting down her lipstick. She picks up her powder brush, trying to think about when her son had gotten the idea that they were more. He was awfully observational for a kid his age, but she didn't think she and Elliot had done anything to suggest they were a couple. "Okay?"

"Okay," Luke answers. He sounds a little reserved, and Olivia looks in the mirror to see his face, but he's still looking down. She decides to let it go for now, and the room is quiet as she finishes her face. At least until Luke speaks up one more time. "Do you still love Dad?"

There's a long pause after that. Olivia turns around now, facing her son. He looks up, meeting her eyes and she exhales. She has always tried her hardest to be honest with Luke; she never wanted to patronize his intelligence, but she didn't want to warp his view of his father either.

"A little," she says eventually. And this is the truest thing she can think of to say. "I think I always will, at least a little. We were married for a long time, and so that's not going to change because I go out on dates with someone else."

But Luke hadn't been thinking about the date, at that point. His question had come from another place it seems, and he sits for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip until he finally speaks up.

"I know he was mean to you sometimes," he says, looking back at Olivia, who's face folds a little. "He yelled at you."

"Yeah," Olivia says softly. Her heart lurches, and guilt begins to fill her. She had never known for sure how much her son had seen, and she had never known how to ask. But now here he is, sitting on her bed and telling her that he knew his father could be mean. "That was wrong of him."

"One time, he yelled at me too," Luke begins. Confusion washes over Olivia's face as she tries to think of when her husband yelled at Luke. She had never seen Jonathan yell at her son, and part of her believed that was because he had known that she wouldn't have allowed it. She had threatened to leave, once or twice, but if Jonathan had taken out his anger on their child, she would have had no other choice. But now, she's looking at her son and his hazel eyes, which are so like his dad's, but so different as well – clouded with concern and worry – and hearing him tell her his dad had yelled at him too.

"When?" she asks. Luke takes a breath, trying to figure out how much he should say, and if he had been supposed to say anything at all. He didn't like to upset his mom, but she also told him all the time that he could tell her anything. So, he continues.

"When we went on vacation, at the lake house," he says, his voice quiet. "You took me swimming and we did the kayaks, and then we went to get ice cream, but it rained, and we got lost so we came back really late."

"I remember," Olivia says. In July of 2000, they had rented a house on Lake Ontario. On that day that Luke is talking about, Jonathan had been angry when they had come home. It was only 9, but it was dark outside, and Olivia had taken the car, so he couldn't go looking for them. She had known that he was going to yell as soon as she had walked in the house and seen the fire in his eyes and the beer bottles in the trashcan. So she had sent Luke back to his room, told him to shower and get in bed so that he wouldn't have to see his father yell. "But you went to sleep as soon as we got back. Right?" Luke pauses, taking another deep breath.

"I was thirsty," he said. "I did take a shower and I got into bed too, but I couldn't fall asleep and so I got up to get a glass of water."

"Oh Luke," Olivia says, her stomach plummeting. She is praying, hoping with everything in her that he hadn't seen the worst of the argument, that he'd just bumped into an upset Jonathan who told him to get back to bed. But Luke looks back at her, his eyes wavering, and Olivia knows before he speaks that her fears are confirmed.

"I saw him yelling at you," Luke breathes. It feels like he's sharing a secret, saying something he shouldn't have. "You were on the couch, holding your face, and you were crying. And I watched in the hallway, and he said that you needed to shut up before you woke me up, but I was already there. I was going to go see if you were hurt, but then he saw me, in the hallway, and you didn't. And he walked over to me and grabbed my arm and yelled that I was supposed to be asleep and he took me back to my room."

Olivia looks at her son, his eyes trained on her. He doesn't seem upset about what he's saying, he's only trying to gauge her reaction. Olivia blinks back the tears that have come to her eyes and shakes her head, standing and then sitting on the bed next to her son, wrapping her arms around him. She doesn't want to react badly and make this worse for him, but her whole body feels like it's going to cave in on itself.

"I shouldn't have let him yell at you," she says softly. "And I shouldn't have let him yell at me either. That is not the way you are supposed to talk to someone, no matter how mad you are, no matter what happened. That's not how you treat people. I need you to know that, okay?" Against her will, a tear slides down her cheek and she wipes it away hastily, hugging her son before letting him pull back to look at her.

"I know," Luke says quietly. "I know, mom. It's okay. Don't cry." He raises a hand and wipes her cheek and Olivia laughs softly.

"It's my job to take care of you," Olivia says, running a hand through his dark hair. "No one is ever going to yell at you like that again, okay? I promise. And I'm sorry that your dad did. He could be good. And when we got married, he was the best person I'd ever met. But you're right, he was really, really mean sometimes. And I shouldn't have let that happen. I'm sorry you had to see that."

"It's okay," Luke says. He pauses for a second, looking like he wants to admit something. "I thought Mr. Stabler would be a cool dad. And he makes you laugh a lot. That's why I asked if you were going on a date with him." Olivia chuckles softly, looking at her son.

"So now you're trying to set us up, huh?" she says, smiling gently. "I do appreciate that, but I promise I can figure it out on my own, alright?"

"Alright," Luke says. "Who is your date with?"

"His name is Brian," Olivia says. "He's a police officer, like Elliot, so he's a good guy."

"Okay," Luke says, seeming to accept this. "Is he coming here?"

"No, I'm supposed to meet him there." Olivia looks down at her watch. Brian, of course, had offered multiple times to pick Olivia up, but because she had wanted to wait awhile before introducing him to her kids, she'd told him that she would just take a cab and meet him there. "Oof, I should be leaving now, actually. Do I look okay?" Luke's eyes run over her face and he nods.

"Yeah, you look pretty," he says. "But I think you messed up your eye." Olivia stands and glances back in the vanity, wincing at her smeared mascara.

"Wow, you're right about that," she says, grabbing a wipe. "Good call, kid. It's a good thing you always have my back." Luke giggles and nods, confirming her statement.

"Yeah."

•

"Hey, I'm so sorry I'm late," Olivia says, walking up to Brian, who stands. The address he'd given her had led her to a tall building with lots of suites, and they stand in the lobby now. Brian smiles a little and shakes his head, but she continues with her apology. "I got caught up talking to my son, and Grace loves to throw fits right when I'm about to leave the house."

"It's alright," Brian says. "I'm really just glad you're here."

"Yeah," Olivia says, smiling slightly. "Me too." Brian smiles back at her, licking his bottom lip nervously, before looking down at his hands and realizing he'd had something to give her.

"Here, this is for you," he says, holding out what looks like a t-shirt. When Olivia unfolds it, she sees that's what it is: a faded NYPD tee. She looks up at him questioningly.

"Are we solving a case tonight?" she asks. Brian chuckles and shakes his head, starting to walk over to one of the suites.

"No, that's so you don't mess up that great dress," he says, realizing that he hadn't complimented her yet. "You look amazing by the way."

"Thank you," Olivia says softly, smiling. "But what do you mean?" Brian nods at the sign on the door before he opens it for her.

"We're participating in a paint and sip," Brian says, looking at her for a reaction. "Is that alright? We can grab dinner afterward."

"That sounds great," Olivia says, pleasantly surprised. Judging off of Brian's relaxed aura, she had expected to just go out and grab a drink and some bar food, but this idea was well-planned and extremely thoughtful. She smiles widely at him as they make their way over to table with their names on it and slips on his t-shirt. "This is a fantastic idea."

Brian is trying to decide if he should tell her that Elliot had helped him out, or just brush it off. Before he makes a choice, one of the workers walks up the table and offers two glasses of wine.

"Thank you," Olivia says, placing the glass on the table. She was not usually big on drinking. But, tonight had been stressful, and her date hadn't even really begun yet. And in the head, her memories of Jonathan and the incident Luke had brought up threatened to overtake her thoughts. She needed to calm down. Brian had done something so nice in planning this date, and she wanted to be able to relax and enjoy it. So, smiling at him, she lifts her glass and takes a sip.

•

Olivia had not planned on finishing her first glass of wine. But by the time she and Brian finish their paintings, she's reached the bottom of her second glass. As they stand and leave, she notices that she's beginning to feel the effects, and tells herself that she'll have to slow down.

They walk to a restaurant around the corner, a little hole in the wall Italian place. It looks a little familiar, but Olivia can't remember why exactly, maybe because of the fuzziness the wine had caused. They grab a booth in the back corner and Olivia smiles at Brian, passing him back his shirt and setting her painting and purse to the side.

"That was really fun," she says, smiling widely. To be fair, the wine had made her feel a lot more open and she's happy she had come out. "Thank you, for taking me. I'd never been to anything like that before."

"Me either," Brian says, smiling widely at the gorgeous woman in front of him. "I'm glad you had a good time."

"A wonderful time," Olivia says. She motions to her painting. "And I made that, and it almost looks like the skyline we were supposed to make. You know, if you tilt your head, and squint, and then close both eyes and imagine what it was supposed to look like."

Brian laughs, surprised by her humor like he had been every time she made a new joke. As far as he was concerned, Olivia was such a catch. He really owed Elliot a thousand thanks yous.

A waitress walks up to take their drink orders and pass them menus. Her eyes hover over Olivia's face for a moment before she smiles.

"Olivia, right?" she says. Olivia's eyebrows knit together, and she nods slightly. The waitress smile widens. "I never forget a face. You came here with your husband once; a few years ago, had to be. Left a great tip."

Olivia knew that this restaurant had felt familiar. Jonathan had ruined New York for her. She would have moved away from that too it didn't mean uprooting Luke from his school. Now her husband's smile is in her mind again; the crack of the back of his hand against her cheek echoing in her ears.

"Right," she says slowly, blinking and trying to come back to where she was. "I remember now. I'll take a water…and some kind of red wine if you have it? Is that okay?" She glances back at Brian. She had fully intended on paying half of the bill, but she didn't want to seem demanding.

"Of course," Brian says, nodding. "Coke for me please." The waitress writes it down and nods before heading to the next table. Brian tries to catch Olivia's eye, but she's worrying a loose thread on her jacket sleeve. "Hey. You want to talk about that?"

Olivia looks up at Brian, his softened features. She smiles a little and shakes her head.

"No."

•

Dinner goes well, Olivia thinks. This is until she realizes over dessert that she is drunk. She hadn't been paying attention to how much wine she'd had, but she thinks she's on her fourth glass of the night. It seemed like every time she started enjoying herself, she had remembered Jonathan, and her son, watching him yell at her from the hallway. This made her reach for her glass again, and somehow, she'd ended up here, her mind cloudy and her body warm. She giggles as Brian asks for the check, then looks over at her, his eyes concerned.

"Hey," he says gently. "You alright?"

"Yeah," she says smiling a little sleepily before shaking her head. "Wait, no. I think I might have had too much to drink." Brian's eyebrows raise, and he glances at her glass. He hadn't finished a glass at the paint and sip, or the one he'd gotten when they first came into the restaurant, and although Olivia had been getting steadily more talkative as the night progressed, he hadn't realized she was drunk until now. He'd been a bit distracted, quite honestly, focused mainly on how much he liked her and how lucky he felt to be out with her.

"Oh," he says. "Oh wow, um, well, let me get you home okay?"

"No, no," Olivia says, her words beginning to run together. "I can't go home. I have kids. Oh man, I have kids and I'm drunk." She says this last part to herself, mostly, in disbelief. She hadn't been drunk since her freshman year in college. Brian looks at her, starting to worry. The bill comes, and he puts down some cash, quickly making a decision.

"Alright," he says. "Come on, I know where we can go."

•

This is how Brian and Olivia end up outside Elliot's apartment at 11 pm. Brian knocks and shifts the arm that's around Olivia's waist to support her a little more.

"How you holding up, champ?" he asks and she laughs softly, leaning into his chest.

"Good," she mumbles, glancing up at him and raising a hand to trace over his jaw. "Was this a bad date?"

"Um," Brian begins. But then Elliot swings the door open, looking surprised.

"Hey, come in," he says, stepping aside. Brian helps Olivia inside and Elliot shuts the door behind them. "What are you doing here?"

"Man, I don't know what happened," Brian says, carefully guiding Olivia to the couch where she sits, smiling at Elliot. He places her jacket and purse next to her. "Do you have aspirin in the kitchen?"

"Yeah," Elliot says, taking the hint. He leads Brian back into the kitchen. "Is she alright?"

"She's okay, but she's drunk," Brian whispers, looking for a glass. When he finds one, he fills with water. While he does this, Elliot finds some aspirin in the cabinet. "I didn't even know until the end of dinner."

"Drunk?" Elliot says, confused. "No, Olivia doesn't drink."

"I know you said that," Brian says, shaking his head. He runs a hand through his hair. "But she's drunk."

"What did she drink?" Elliot asks, concern edging his voice. In all the time that he had known Olivia, she had always refused alcohol when offered it. "And how much?"

"Just wine," Brian says. "Maybe 3 and a half, 4 glasses? I wasn't counting."

"4 glasses," Elliot repeats, shaking his head. "Why'd you bring her here?"

"Well, her kids are at home with a babysitter, so she didn't want me to take her there," Brian says. "And I didn't want to take her back to my apartment and have her panic about waking up in a strange place in the morning. Do you mind letting her sleep it off here? Your kids aren't here this weekend, right?"

"No, they decided to just come over for Halloween," Elliot says. "But, yeah, I guess she can."

"I'm really sorry," Brian says, meeting his eyes. "I just didn't know what do…I mean fuck man, what made her get drunk? Was it me?"

"I'm sure it wasn't," Elliot says, shaking his head. He pats Brian's should. "Go tell her good night, I'm gonna call her babysitter for her."

"Right," Brian says, nodding. "Thanks again."

He heads back into the living room and Elliot goes to the phone and quickly dials Olivia's home number, something he'd remembered in the past year. He lets Amy know that Olivia is over at his house and asks if she's able to spend the night. Luckily, she says she's happy to stay and Elliot thanks her before hanging up and picking up the water and aspirin.

"Hey, Liv," Elliot says gently, walking back into the living room, where Olivia is half asleep. She looks up at him, smiling a little. "You okay?"

"Hey, Elliot," she says, tilting her head to look at him. Brian must have already left. Elliot knew he was going to find a way to beat himself up about this; he'd been so eager for the date. Elliot sets the glass of water down on the coffee table and hands Olivia the two aspirin. "I feel good. Great. Super."

"Take this for me," he says gently, sitting on the edge of the couch.

Olivia obliges, giggling softly as she does so, taking a sip of water and nearly spilling the whole thing on herself. She laughs at her own clumsiness and Elliot shakes his head, helping her set the glass back down.

"So," she says, looking at him through half-lidded eyes, a sleepy smile on her face. "What's next, detective?" She giggles again, and Elliot only can chuckle softly, in spite of the situation, because, well, she looks kind of cute. He stands and leans down, helping her up off the couch.

"Next, I'm going to help you lay down," Elliot says, trying to get her to walk back to the bedroom, but Olivia protests, a pout on her face, and she shakes her head. "Come on, you'll feel much better after you wake up in the morning."

"Noooo," Olivia whines softly. Then just like a small child, she goes limp in Elliot's arms, making her lift her. She's not at all heavy – which may have explained why she'd gotten drunk so quickly, now that he thought about it – but Elliot still grunts when he catches her, keeping her from hitting the floor. Olivia slips her arms around his neck, pressing against him to hold herself up and murmuring softly as she looks at him, her eyes attempting to focus on his face. "I wanna stay out here, with you. Brian left, but you're who I really wanted to see tonight anyway."

"I'm going with you," Elliot assures, trying his hardest to steady his increasing heartbeat. He has to force himself not to look too much into her speech and he tries to move again, but Olivia still refuses. Eventually, he just sighs and lifts her, wrapping his arms around the back of her legs and carrying her into the guest room. Olivia squeals when he does this and when he sets her down, helping her sit on the edge of the bed, she's pouting again.

"That wasn't fair," she says, shaking her head, her voice still child-like. "You can't just pick me up, that's totally against the rules."

"Okay, okay," Elliot says, smiling again. "I'm sorry. I'm going to get some clothes for you, okay? Stay still."

"Yes sir," Olivia responds, nodding, and then giggling to herself again. Elliot chuckles quietly, heading across the hall to his room. He quickly grabs a large t-shirt and some sweatpants, then makes his way back. Olivia grins when she sees him. "You're back!"

"I am," Elliot says, setting the clothes down. "Here, can you change into these?" Olivia stands, a little wobbly, trying her hardest to follow through on the command. She manages to get her tights off, even though she has to balance against Elliot, but when it comes to her dress, she can't even reach around to grab her zipper.

"I can't get it, El," she says, sounding sad. "Why do they make them like this? The zipper should just go in the front."

Again, her tone of voice makes Elliot smile just a little. He steps in to assist her, unzipping the dress and helping Olivia step out of it. He casts his eyes to the ground as soon as she gets the dress off and sees that she throws her bra to the ground as well.

"Put on those clothes," he says gently, motioning to the ones on the bed. He turns his back to her, folding her dress and gingerly picking her bra up. He places the folded clothes on the ottoman. "You dressed?"

"Yes sir," Olivia says again. Elliot turns to see her covered by his t-shirt, which reaches her knees. She had ignored the sweatpants, but he'd guess that'd do. Olivia seems to be slowly becoming aware of her intoxication and raises her hands to her head, cradling it. "Wow."

"You okay?" Elliot asks carefully. And she nods slowly, eventually looking back up at him and giggling softly.

"I am so drunk," she whispers. Elliot can't help but laugh back softly, shaking his head. "Wow, I'm such a bad date." She pauses, her eyebrows knitting together as if she's trying to put something together. "I'm a bad mom, too."

"No, you're not," Elliot says, shaking his head. "Your kids are safe, at home, in bed with the babysitter. You just need to get some sleep, so you can go see them in the morning."

"But I'm really, really drunk," she says, shaking her head and looking confused. "And I let Luke see his dad yell at me, and he wasn't supposed to see."

"What?" Elliot asks, tilting his head. Olivia sits back on the bed and he carefully sits next to her. "Jonathan?"

"Yeah," Olivia says. She spits his name out like it tastes bad. "Jonathan. Don't get me wrong, he was sweet sometimes but sometimes he was so mean."

"Jonathan was mean to you," Elliot says, his eyebrows coming down.

"Yes," Olivia says, sounding like she's frustrated with Elliot for not keeping up. "He was a real dick sometimes. He yelled at me, all the time, especially when he got drunk. He could be such a jerk."

"That's why you don't drink?" Elliot asks, trying to follow her train of thought.

"No no," Olivia says, shaking her head. "I don't drink because of my mom. Except for tonight, I had to drink because I was so nervous and because I was so worried about what Luke told me."

"What did Luke tell you?"

"That he saw his dad yelling at me," Olivia says, cradling her head again. She continues, slowing down to try and keep her words from slurring, but it doesn't help much. "On vacation, at the lake house. But Luke didn't see him hit me, so I guess it could be worse. Right?"

"Hit you," Elliot murmurs, closing his eyes for a second and trying to process Olivia's words. When he opens them, his hands have formed fists. "Olivia, Jonathan hit you?"

"Only a few times, at the end," Olivia says, pursing her lips together. "Only when he had been drinking. I told him I didn't like alcohol, it can make people so evil and it made him awful." She closes her eyes, her head beginning to thud slightly, the aspirin from Elliot helping the pain only slightly. "Luke never saw that. But he saw the arguing. You can't tell him, okay? It was a secret."

Elliot is angry. Angry at Jonathan, angry at himself because he had been there and not noticed. He looks at Olivia now, with her hands in her head, drunk because her husband was dead, but still in her head. He fumes. Eventually, Olivia looks up, meeting his eyes. Immediately, she shakes her head, her voice cracking.

"You're mad," she says. She sounds scared, and that breaks Elliot's heart. He quickly tries to adjust his face, shaking his head. "You are."

"Not at you," Elliot assures. "Come here."

Olivia chews on her lip, debating whether to stay where she is or move closer. Eventually, she seems to decide that she can trust Elliot because she moves in, letting Elliot wrap his arms around her and pull her against his chest, exhaling as he does.

"It wasn't always bad," Olivia says softly, eventually. "He apologized after. Brought flowers. He could be kind. When he wanted to."

"Okay," Elliot says softly. He rubs Olivia's arms gently and she exhales, slowly relaxing into him. "Okay."

They sit like that for a minute. Elliot exhales slowly, thinking about Olivia, living with a man who hit her, who yelled at her. Who abused her. As he sits and thinks about her suffering in silence for 15 years of marriage, trying to shield her son from her own experience, his arms tighten around her. He wants to protect her, shield her, encase her until she was hidden from the rest of the world and even the ghost of her late husband couldn't reach her. He wants to keep her safe.

Olivia starts to fall asleep. He can tell because her body presses more into his, her head relaxes, her breathing steadies. He shifts slowly, moving to guide her to lie down but her arms slip around his neck for the second time and she whispers into his t-shirt, holding onto him.

"Stay," she says, barely audible. "Please, El." Elliot feels his gut wrench.

"Okay," he says. He slides away from her, guiding her to lie under the covers. He then moves to turn the light off, lying down next to her afterward. She moves to meet his body heat, wiggling under his arms. She nearly asleep, Elliot knows, and he wraps his arms around her, making her hum contentedly. She finds a way to get even closer, tucking her face into the crook of his neck, sliding her own arms around his back.

"Don't leave," she mumbles softly, and Elliot shakes his head slightly.

"I'm not going anywhere," he says. But by the time he responds, she is already asleep.