We're getting to the sex. I promise. But first they have to torture each other. Because that is so entertaining, and you know it.
…
He wasn't expecting that really. Now that he looks back, maybe he should have been more prepared for that kind of response. After all, she was the one who said it was a step in the right direction. She was the one who patted his back and bought him his coffee and kept him company once the marriage was officially severed. She'd approved of the divorce. And apparently she didn't approve of this.
A little part of him was somehow under the impression that what he'd just witnessed was jealousy, pure feminine envy of the greenest kind. But no, he shrugged it off. Olivia was many things, but envious she was not. At least not of him. No one should envy him.
He returns to the squad room and takes his seat, watching the edge in her eyes as she works. The silence continues, but there's something more sinister in it now. The truth is out (at least he hopes so) and both are trying to decide how to react without killing the other one.
He turns to the desks behind him now, hoping the boys are a little more forgiving than the icy countenance before him.
"Munch, Fin. You have any plans tonight?"
Munch shrugs. "I have a meeting for my Club For Bachelors Gifted With Rugged Good Looks."
"So that's a yes, then." He hides a laugh, since a laugh will only encourage him. Encouraging Munch is always a bad idea. "What about you, Fin?"
"If this has something to do with a bar stool at Murphy's, then I am completely free."
He grins, and turns back to his partner, her eyes cast downward but still positively glowing with a slow rage. Oh Jesus, isn't this over yet?
"How about it, Liv?"
"How about what?"
"Tonight? You got any plans?"
"Oh, uh…" Her eyes roll up to look at him, the flash of chocolate that still glares angrily. "No. I'll be there."
"Good." He manages a smile, but she turns away again, and the moment is over. If that's how it's going to be, fine. That's how it's going to be.
But then hours pass by him and he finds himself on that bar stool Fin mentioned before, and he is hoping this isn't how it's going to be forever. He is starting to get very sick of having the accusing glares answer his questions for her.
Yet she is playing cool with Munch and Fin, laughing with their jokes and sipping on her beer with that languid, laid back expression on her face that she only gives in to every once and a while, only when she's really sick of pretending everything else is fine. She chuckles enthusiastically at one of Munch's stories and then leans dangerously close to the others, grinning maliciously.
"Want to play a game?"
Elliot, who has been sitting quietly with his beer up until now, finds himself staring in her direction, choking momentarily on his drink.
"I think we're a bit old for games, Liv." Munch quips, and Fin starts to laugh.
"Then we'll call it a bet." Her eyes sweep over the crowd, and Elliot feels her gaze goes icy when she glances at him, the flicker of her eyelashes that slows methodically when she meets his gaze again. Alright, you've got my attention. Stop dawdling.
"I'll bet you 25 bucks I'm getting that guy's number by the end of the night."
Oh please.
But then he gets it. Elliot definitely gets it. She may not be envious of him, but she's more than willing to turn the tables and play it to his weaknesses.
But no. Because there is no way this is going to make him even remotely jealous.
Munch and Fin of course have jumped on the opportunity to gamble, and are nodding appropriately as they listen to Liv's instructions.
He feels his pulse quicken momentarily when she stretches out one long leg and stands up beside the stool, sidling slowly to the table in the corner. He looks away when she slides into the seat across from the lone male occupant, blinks when he sees the smile on her face. She's not going to win. She can't win. I don't care what the hell she does.
He buries himself in the beer and pictures Kathy at the door last night, the arms around his neck when she took his mouth into hers, his tongue pushing her lips apart and pulling him into oblivion. Across the room, he watches his partner bite her lip playfully, and he thinks about Kathy on the couch, sucking tenderly on his lower lip. He had ran a hand over her thigh and almost smiles at the warmth. Yeah, he'd missed sex.
Olivia's running her tongue across her teeth and he's thinking about the hands that removed his shirt, brushed against his chest and then traced circles on his abs, tugging adversely on the button of his pants, loosening the zipper. Olivia leans forward and the man's eyes drop momentarily to her breasts, and Elliot's imagining last night, the knee he pushed between Kathy's legs before he slid on top of her, lips nagging at her nipple before she pushes against him and lets him in.
"She's good." Munch says quickly, bringing Elliot back to the present. He blinks, sees her across the room with that grin on her face, and he forgets the sex and the flesh and the sweat. Her gaze returns to where her three companions wait at the bar, and one particular smile is reserved for Elliot. She blinks knowingly at him, but the ice in her pupils is back. He knows exactly what she's trying to say there. Fuck her. Fuck her for being so god damn stubborn.
"Now I know where we've met before!" She says loudly, laughing suddenly and throwing her head back, the top of her breasts exposed once more. "Siena!"
"Benson..." The man runs her name over her tongue with the smallest trace of eagerness in his smile. "Criminology with Dr. Phillips, two semesters." He grins wider. "You were definitely two rows behind me."
"I tried to avoid sitting front row for lectures."
"I think I came in drunk to at least three of that man's classes."
"I think I remember. So…I remember your girlfriend from those days, but…any action now?"
"This might just be my lucky night, as a matter of fact." He smiles convincingly, enough for everyone to buy it. Buy that he's a nice guy and a good match and oh, they'll be nice together. Elliot can hardly take it.
She laughs again. She's bearing her soul in that laugh. She's bearing her soul, and Elliot knows she's bearing her soul, and Elliot's going to kill that son of a bitch.
"Alright, that's enough." He mutters, pushing the bar stool away from him as he gets to his feet. Munch and Fin have opened their mouths but seem to lack any words for the occasion. Munch makes a swipe for his wrist, but Elliot ignores the warning and strides to the table where the new couple sits, gnawing on the inside of his mouth.
"Hi." He puts on his friendliest smile, ignoring the warning glare she gives when her companion cannot see.
"Uh, hi." Her new friend smiles tentatively, looking over at Olivia for help. "Do you two know each other?"
"Yeah, actually-" He starts, but she breaks in, facing him with one of her evilest grins.
"Actually, Elliot and I are old friends."
"Really." Her prey looks disappointed, but tries to hide it with a surprised grin. "Hi there. I'm Jim Green."
"Jim, right." He smiles at Olivia again. So Liv, you pleased with yourself?
"Elliot and I have known each other since, oh...I don't know. Would you say it was right after your marriage?" She smiles complacently, but her eyes say everything he needs to hear. Damn right I am, you bastard.
"I'm divorced."
"And recently back with his ex, isn't that wonderful?" Olivia added quickly, grinning happily as if it was the best news she'd heard in a while.
"Oh, um…that's great." Jim smiles again, but the confusion is more obvious in his eyes.
"Yeah, it's nice." Elliot agrees, hands going to his hips. "So Jim, what line of work are you in?"
"Uh, I'm actually going to night school for my law degree, but I'm a pharmacist right now."
"Isn't that nice? Olivia and I are cops. Partners, actually."
"That's interesting." Jim leans toward Olivia, smiling again. "So how is that-"
"We're sex crimes." Elliot smiles proudly. Olivia gives him a look that could burn down houses. "Yeah, we've seen a lot of terrible stuff together. Honestly, I don't think it's even possible to hold down a relationship with the kind of shit we're tied up in. Olivia's never been in a serious thing for as long as I've known her, but then again, if you're the kind of person that likes sleeping with someone who's seen-"
"That's enough." Olivia stutters, and he feels her foot stab painfully onto his own beneath the table. "I'm really sorry, Jim, but I have to excuse myself."
"No, that's…fine." Jim stares between the two of them, his mouth hanging open a bit. "It was great seeing you again."
"You too, really." Her eyes are full of apology. Pathetic.
But when she drags him outside, her eyes are anything but filled with sympathy.
"You fucking bastard! What the hell was that all about?!"
He shrugs calmly. As if I cared. "I was just protecting your interests."
"But it's none of your fucking business!
"That guy wasn't right for you."
"And how the hell would you know that?"
"Because…he was" He's really trying here, like it counts. "…older."
"By two years? What the hell are you talking about?"
"You can't date a guy that's two years older than you are."
She glares at him, jabbing a finger into his chest. "You're two years older than I am."
"But we're not dating."
"Yes, thank god. I'd think I'd rather shoot myself than put myself through that misery."
He bites his lip, knowing that both of their voices are raising and it's only a matter of time before one of them starts screaming.
"The feeling is mutual."
"Get the hell away from me!" She snaps, and storms off in the other direction.
He watches her go, pretends he doesn't care, pretends he hates her too.
Fuck it, seriously.
…
Fin turns to Munch from where they've been staring out the window at the public spectacle their fellow police have been putting on.
"So…are they coming back?"
"I have no idea."
"So…should we pay the tab?"
Munch stares at the empty glasses lining the bar. "Yeah, we'll split it."
Fin raises an eyebrow as they leave. "If they don't get laid soon, one of them is definitely going to get their head ripped off."
"30 bucks says Olivia pops Elliot."
Fin grins. "You're on."
AN: Ah, the classic element of gambling Munch and Fin. What is a fic without it?