Title: Making a Connection, Chapter 13

Author: Sorsha711
Fandom/Pairing: Munch/OFC, O/E
Rating: M, for language and references to violence; some adult situations
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to Dick Wolf. Sigh!
Summary: Across a crowded coffee-shop… yadda, yadda, yadda. A Munch romance with a generous side of O/E; Post "Uncle" so Spoiler warnings if you've not see that episode

Making a Connection, Chapter 13

"This is fabulous! I can't believe how easy this was to make. Is it a family recipe?"" Olivia asked as she peeled another shrimp… only to have Elliot pop it into his mouth when she set it down to peel another. "Hey… peel your own!"

Stealing a quick kiss, he teased, "They taste even better when you peel them for me." A second peeled shrimp disappeared from her plate.

Amused by the exchange, John answered. "Seafood boils are pretty common on the coast. Each area does them a little differently, so Winnie and I put the ones we liked into this one."

"Keep calling me Winnie…" Arwen threatened, breaking into his answer.

John's smirk refused to become repentant. "The biggest difference is usually in the boiling liquid… the spices… whether or not you use beer, that sort of thing. Odd to say since it's a seafood boil, the potatoes, corn, and sausage are the only things most of them have in common."

Ben Randolph, Casey's fiancé added, "I love a good boil and this is delicious, but we do it a little differently up in Maine. I grew up near the Penobscot Bay and spent a lot of my time sailing when I was a teenager. Seafood boils are a favorite of mine."

"Olivia, Fin, and John deserve the credit, since they cooked it, but I'm glad you like it," Arwen replied. "You can do the 'down east' version for us another time, maybe."

"Count of it," the handsome blond law professor responded, going to work on a crab.

"I have the Davenport case starting next week. I'll be stuck the rest of this weekend working on my opening statement, so I needed something like this to help me relax and refocus," Casey offered, piling a second selection of the boil onto the plate she was sharing with Ben. "We always say we're going to do things like this more often, but it never seems to work out that way. Maybe you can help us remember to relax more often, Arwen… be good for all of us. Grabbing a beer after work just isn't the same."

"I'll do my best," she agreed. "I love having people over... throwing a party is my idea of relaxing."

"Question," Sally Pagani, Don's date, asked. "How do you eat a crawfish?"

Grinning, Arwen offered, "In New Orleans, they tell you to 'pinch 'de tail and suck 'da head'! Does that help?"

Laughing, the attractive brunette shook her head. "Errh… no, but thanks for the visual!"

Picking up a crawfish, Arwen demonstrated how to pop off the tail. "This is the only part I eat. My sister-in-law swears the brains are delicious, but I refuse to try! My late husband's family is from New Orleans, so they think I'm a wuss!"

"You've taken up with the Munchkin, so I doubt anyone can call you a wuss… brave or daring, maybe, but not a wuss," Elliot teased, grabbing a chuck of smoked sausage off of Olivia's plate, enjoying her playful objections as much as the delicious food.

"Both," John agreed. "Winnie made several desserts, so y'all need to save room for some."

"Y'all???" Fin pounced, a wicked gleam twinkling in his eyes. "Did you just say 'y'all'?"

Grinning down into the upturned eyes of his lover, John nodded. "Yup. Want to make something of it, partner?"

"Damn, Munchkin! You're so whipped!" Fin responded, trading an amused smirk with Cragen.

Laughing, John proudly repeated, "Yup. Want to make something of it, partner?"

"Y'all is a perfectly acceptable contraction I'll have you know," Arwen interjected, slightly embarrassed by their comments. She knew they knew, but they hadn't been lovers long enough for her to be this causal about it.

"So you keep telling me," John agreed, squeezing her hand under the makeshift table. "I guess you must have convinced me since I just used it. I'm willing to bet we'll have someone else saying it before much longer."

"I already do," Marisa Stevens grinned, "so it's nice to be around someone else that does. Fin teases me relentlessly about that and the southern phrases I use."

"Where's home?" John asked, glad the young woman hadn't seen the way Fin rolled his eyes at her comment She seemed sweet, if much too young for his partner. Experience with his partner's dating habits warned him this would be the only time he would bring her to one of their gatherings and that they would not be dating much longer.

"Atlanta."

"Prove it… can you give directions to your house using Peachtree?" Arwen teased.

Marisa laughed. "I did say I was from Atlanta didn't I!"

"I've been there enough times that I get that! I swear half the streets are named Peachtree something," Will Warner grinned. "Atlanta traffic can be is as bad as New York traffic some days… worse if you get caught on that damned Loop!"

Laughing, Arwen recalled, "I remember listening to a Braves game once where the starting pitcher didn't make it to the park because he got on the Loop and couldn't get off! Poor guy had just gotten his driver's license and got trapped in the far lane… was too inexperienced to force his way over to hit an off-ramp. He eventually ran out of gas and had to be rescued!"

Nodding, Ben began to chuckle. "I remember that! He must have gotten it from all sides in the locker room over that one… much like John will on Monday!"

"Muffins, Munchkin… they may be your only hope for survival," Fin taunted.

"I'll be sure George has a full breakfast before he leaves for work on Monday, John," Penny Huang offered. "That way you only have to fight off Casey and Melinda when they ambush you in the parking lot!"

"He and Fin have been talking pretty big," George insisted, focused on pulling a crab into manageable pieces to share with his wife. "Even if I don't want them right then, I'm still taking my share…"

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A groan proceeded, "I knew there was something we forgot to bring up with us," John complained.

Shifting slightly from her position lounging against his chest so that she could look up into his eyes, Arwen asked, "What?"

"Blankets."

"Blankets? Why blankets?"

A lazy grin lit his face. "I won't speak for anyone else, but I too stuffed to move, much less try to crawl down two flights. I think I may have to sleep up here."

Smiling fondly at the utter contentment wreathing his features, she teased, "You're still on vacation, honey, so you can sleep it off in the morning… until I drag you out of bed to help me clean up."

"I thought we agreed I only have to do what I want on my vacation," John observed, smirking at her over the top of his glasses. "Cleaning up isn't on my 'to-do' list. What's in it for me?"

"Oh, please don't go there, Munchkin!" Fin insisted, relieved to see the desperation that had been building in his best friend's spirit slipping away. "You're so not going to want to hear the answer to that one!"

Sighing dramatically, John admitted, "I guess I won't complain too much if Arwen let's me sleep late before she puts me to work."

"I'm just glad the Chief of D approved my request to let all of us have the night off without being on call," Cragen observed, eyeing the last slice of Key Lime pie. "We needed a night like this more than I realized. I doubt any of us is up to responding to a call at this point… though I think I can still manage another piece of that pie."

"You can take it home with you, Don," Arwen offered, pleased that the meal had been such a success. "Liv has marked the last of the cake as hers already."

"Looks like Livvie has plans to take all kind of goodies home with her tonight," Casey joked, noting the proprietary way she was nestled against Elliot.

"Mine, mine, mine," Olivia agreed, stretching up to kiss her main 'goodie'.

"If I bring both muffins and sweet rolls on Monday, I think I deserve a pass so we can all concentrate on those two," John proposed, pleased to see the uncertainty that has clung for so long to both of his friends beginning to fade. "They have it coming big time."

"You go right ahead and think that, John," Don proposed, pulling Sally a little closer to his side. Resting his chin against the petite brunette's head, he warned, "That's not going to happen, but you feel free to dream until Monday!"

"We fed you people tonight… doesn't that count for something??" John complained, too content to put much effort into his objections.

"Sure it does… we're all amazed you managed to snag a lady like Arwen," Fin retorted. "Don't screw this up, John. We may decide to keep her and toss your scrawny ass out if we ever have to make a choice. You better learn to make that shrimp dip as a fall-back if you want to have a chance."

"This is a cold group!" Will observed, dropping a kiss to the top of his wife's head.

George began to laugh. "You just discovered that, Will? I make a habit of keeping to the shadows in the squadroom to call as little attention to myself as possible. Office banter can be a blood sport for them."

"Yeah, sure you do," Elliot scoffed. "You score your share of hits, Dr. Huang! We all live in fear of drawing too much attention from our resident FBI profiler… you know just where to go to slice and dice!"

Laughing, Arwen forced herself to her feet, drawing grumbles from John when she left his arms. "No slicing and dicing tonight, any of you!"

Walking over to the CD player, she began to sort through the discs, looking for one to play. "I think we need a little dancing to get us moving again. What do you say to John and me showing you how to Shag?"

Sputters of laughter greeted her question… as she had expected. Fin called out, "Just what type of party is this, Arwen? We're cops, so we might have to raid ourselves if that happens!"

Smirking, John rose and sauntered over to join Arwen. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Tutuola. The Shag is a dance."

"You expect us to move… much less be light on our feet after feeding us that feast?" Casey complained, sifting more fully into Ben's embrace. "I think John was right about the blankets. I need a nap!"

"The Shag… that's danced to oldies, right?" Don asked, an intrigued look accompanying the question.

"Some of the music is oldies, but it has to have a particular beat and rhythm for shagging… usually a 4/4 blues shuffle," Arwen answered. "The music is usually called beach music because it's associated with the beaches of the Carolinas. The first exposure to R&B for many white teens in the fifties and early sixties… not just southern teens, but kids from all over, was during vacations along the Grand Strand. They heard the music being played, saw the dancing, and fell in love with both. Beach music and shagging helped break down a lot of barriers in the day."

Don nodded, a faraway smile on his face. "I remember going to Myrtle Beach once when I was a kid for a family vacation… my parents has scrimped all year long to afford it. My dad and I were out walking on the boardwalk one afternoon and heard music coming from a dive overlooking the beach. We looked inside and there were all these couples dancing to music like I'd never heard before. I loved it and was hooked on R&B from then on, but I hadn't made the beach connection until now."

Pulling Sally to her feet, he demanded, "Show us. I've always wanted to dance like those couples."

The beat of the Embers, "60 Minute Man", drifted out across the roof top as John swept Arwen to him and they began to dance. Within minutes, the entire group was up learning the smooth, sexy shuffle of the Shag. The Shag gave way to slow dances… partners nestled close with frequent lazy kisses shared and a much needed release of the tension the preceding week settled over the group.

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"You're coming up, aren't you?"

Elliot switched off the car engine and turned to face his companion. Reaching over to cup her face, he held her gaze as he asked, "Are you sure you're ready for us to become lovers, baby? If you want to take things a little slower and…"

A strangled laugh left her throat as Olivia tugged his head over to hers. "Are you insane? How much slower can we take things than eight years???"

Breaking the kiss, Elliot rested his forehead against hers. "I just meant…"

"Elliot… get your ass in gear and get upstairs before I jump you here in the car!"

A wicked grin proceeded, "Whatever you say, Det. Benson. I live to serve!"

Chuckling, Olivia pulled away and opened the passenger door. "So you say. Prove it!"

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Struggling to calm her racing heart, Olivia breathed. "Damn! You do honor to that badge you're wearing, Detective Stabler. You rose to the occasion admirably."

Turning his head to meet her twinkling gaze, Elliot smirked. "Next time can we try not wearing the badge? Clothes get in the way of my best work!"

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