Sorry this took me somewhere equal to forever to update. Junior year has been a bitch to finish out but thank god for summer, right? Summer is essentially party time for Mademoiselle Severance. AKA stay up until four every night and write like a maniac. Yep.
Blah blah blah arguments are the shit. And of course they always lead to the bedroom (or in most instances: the coffee table, kitchen counter, entry rug, or public restroom) so what the hell. Let's let them beat the verbal crap out of each other some more. And jaed asked me to unchain dear Olivia so she can kick Monsieur Clueless Elliot's ass, so yeah, there's some physical abuse in this chapter too. PMS, what can I say?
And yeah, I kind of decided to skip over three episodes and jump to season finale plot substance here. Since there was that whole development…I think you know what I'm talking about. Anyone else evil enough to want to suggest the coat-hanger-trick to Kathy?
…
There are at least eight blurred messages on her answering machine when she gets home, all made within three minutes of one another. She doesn't bother to listen to all of them, since ignoring them entirely would be much more satisfying to the stubborn hatred that's curling somewhere in the pit of her stomach. No, she doesn't absolutely hate Elliot Stabler. Maybe she wants to do bodily harm to his manly parts and then skewer him with her curling iron while shooting him through the kneecap a couple of times, but she certainly doesn't hate the poor man.
"Livyouknowit'smeyweneedtotalkI'msorry-" He says in one breath, but by that point she has turned off the machine and collapsed on her couch, completely unwilling to surrender to the emotions that are currently outmatching her set of stalwart feminist beliefs.
He was an asshole: that is all there is to it. And she is in possession of the basic human right to not have to deal with assholes on a daily basis. But this is a particular breed of asshole, one that only shows its asshole-ness when truly provoked by an ice bitch of her sort of proportions.
In other words, she brought on her own misery by poking the hornet's nest a little too much.
Elliot Stabler. Complete moron or unknowing participant in fate's grand scheme to slowly drag Olivia Benson into the ground with the remnants of her life?
Coincidentally, just as she is pondering the nature of her partner's sudden apologies, the knock comes at the door.
Oh shit.
"Liv! It's me! Let me in!"
"I'm not here." She groans, rolling over and covering her face with a pillow. "Not in your realm of reality, anyway."
"Liv, we have to talk." His voice is more forceful this time, and she is almost under the impression that he's going to try to take the door down, or at least make threats about doing such. "I owe you an…"
Oh, just say it. Admit I was right.
"Yes?" She adds when he does not immediately finish.
"Are you going to let me in?" His voice is still muffled, but it's grown louder, as if he's pressed his face up against the door. She almost smiles at the thought of it. He can be such a…kid sometimes.
"Probably not." She gets to her feet, silently padding toward the door and adjusting the padlock, just enough to open the door and see a sliver of his face. "You were saying?"
"I owe you an apology." He breathes, giving her a hard stare. She frowns immediately, the sight of his eyes a reminder of everything that has passed between them and suddenly she's just as angry as before when they'd started screaming on the sidewalk.
And yet she gives in, and she opens the door and lets him step inside, because every other year of partnership is yelling at her right now to shut up and just do what she feels is right.
And hearing him out is right.
Yeah, right.
"Apology, huh?" She falls back onto the couch, watching him take a hesitant seat across from her and gnaw on the edge of his lip, eyes still intense as ever. "So humiliating me in front of my company deserves a sorry from you? That's a first."
"It's not like you were serious about him, Liv."
She rolls her eyes. "And how would you know?"
He shrugs. "I can tell with these sorts of things."
"That didn't mean you had the right to act like a moron at my expense, relationship ESP or not."
"Yeah, I'm…aware of that." He gives her a strange look. "So I'm sorry."
She pauses before replying, holding back the nasty quip she'd expected to retort. "Fine." She says simply, putting up her feet on the coffee table. "How did you get in here anyway?"
He grins slightly, just enough so the corners of his mouth reveal that small spark of brilliance. "Your neighbor likes me."
She narrows her eyes. "Mrs. Cho likes men. You're a man. There is really nothing special there."
"I wasn't trying to say it that way." He sighs through his teeth, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Jesus, why do you have to make everything into a fight all of a sudden? I came here to apologize-"
"And you did, so why don't you leave?" She stands up, inviting him out. Her eyes are on fire, she can feel it, but he doesn't budge.
"You let me in."
"I am polite."
"No, you're just not ready to admit that your anger is over. You'd rather fight it out until the PMS subsides."
"This isn't PMS!"
"You're right- that's not for another week."
She raises an eyebrow. "How do you know that?"
"I'm your partner! We went over this!"
"Went over what?"
"Went over that I've worked with you long enough to figure out how your body functions!"
She bites her lip, her fists on her hips. She can only think of hitting him, of striking him down until he realizes how stupid he is. Stupid for knowing everything about her, stupid for knowing her weaknesses. Stupid for going back to the one thing that never did him any good. "Well…stop!"
"Stop what?"
"Stop keeping track of my life!"
"Stop forming opinions about my life!"
"The only one forming opinions is you!"
"About what?"
"About the men I date!"
"You two weren't dating!"
She rolls her eyes, throwing up her hands in exasperation. "Well, maybe we were going to! But obviously we can't now, since you had to fuck with-"
He finally gets to his feet, finger pointed angrily in her face. "It would have never worked out!"
The tension is suddenly thrown off, the flames having risen to their fullest height. She takes a moment to breathe, exhausted by the effort of arguing. Exhausted by the emotions that have dragged her deep into the mess, this tangle of unrequited something.
"You came here to apologize." She begins slowly, breathing heavily. "Not to criticize me. So if you're done with the good deeds, you might as well go."
His expression has fallen, and his anger has swum away into the hot air. "Liv, I'm not-"
"I don't care."
"You should!" And it returns. Flares up again so she can see it rising in his eyes. All fury and flames and frightening honesty. "You're throwing yourself at some guy you've never met, trying to get an emotion out of some asshole who doesn't care about you. You should care. He doesn't."
"Oh, please. This is exactly what I was talking about." She throws back her head, rubbing her temples with heavy fingers. "I don't need your opinion on my sex life, Elliot. I really don't."
He rolls his eyes, not wanting to take it this far. "This is not about sex, Liv. It's about simple matters of respect."
She raises a dangerous eyebrow, the tiniest hint of a smile on her lips. If it is a smile, it is a wicked one. "You mean like the lack of respect you're getting from everyone because you tucked your tail between your legs and went whining back to Kathy?"
She sees him boiling again and watches the way he crawls underneath the pressure she applies. Her words are digging deep into the sad exterior, the place where he burrows and bubbles and tries not to explode. Now she can set him off. She knows how to trip his wire, and tonight she's holding the fuse.
"So now we get to it." He says quietly, his eyes lowering and his fists beginning to clench. Delicious fury. "I know you hate me for going back. I think you should know that I don't care."
"You should." She whispers, now only inches from him. She can almost feel the heat of his body, taste that sweaty scent in her nostrils and mouth. This has always been her favorite part of an argument: the moment when the climax goes silent. When the truth is released in small, breathy movements that decline and define.
He stares at her, but his grip is released. "I don't need your opinions."
She almost laughs. "Look who's talking."
"This is different, and you know it."
"No, it really isn't. It's exactly the same thing."
"We're married-"
"Divorced." She corrects, shooting him an unforgiving look.
"Well, maybe not for much longer. I mean, if I'm moving back in and everything…"
This stops her. The argument sways with her dizzied mind, her words suddenly gone.
No.
How the fuck could they get married again? How much of a fucking idiot was he?
Jesus fucking christ.
"Satisfied?" He says quietly, looking down at her with cold eyes. "This is what you wanted to hear, right? Well, I confess. I want to move back in. I want to get remarried. I want to forget it ever happened." His hand collides roughly with her shoulder, shaking her to life. "That's what you wanted to know, right? You wanted me to say I loved her."
She snorted. "Do you?"
He shakes her shoulder, frowning. "It's none of your business."
"Everything is my business, because everything is your business."
"I'm leaving." He releases her, turning sharply for the door. "I've had enough."
"Thanks for apologizing!" She calls out angrily, wanting him to turn around, just so she can see the defeat.
"No problem." He retorts over his shoulder, his hand on the doorknob. He steps into the hall, giving her one last disapproving look. "And thanks for being a bitch."
She takes his arm in her hand, biting her lip. "Hey, Elliot."
For a moment, he must be thinking that she's going to apologize. She can see the surprise in his eyes, the expectancy waiting there. He wants her to give in, to admit she was wrong. But no, she's not wrong.
She's never wrong about him.
He finally speaks, his breath heavy as it releases from his lips. "What?"
She swings her other hand from the other side of the door, landing it squarely on his nose. He flies backward, hitting the ground with just as satisfying a thump as the crack from her fist hitting his face.
"Fuck you." She spits it out, slamming her door with the slightest of smiles. Leaving him there, knowing now…just as of now…she has him.