Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. Not even for Christmas!

Author's note: Yes, I'm still alive. I have been so busy with work (I need to serve all you mad people for Christmas!) that I didn't have a chance to just sit and write until the beginning of this week. If I made myself write, it'd seem forced and I'd be unhappy with it. So, I waited until I had time, and this came out. The end's smutty (:O!) so you've been warned. I might need to change the rating for next chapter. I think I can get away with a T rating for one sexy scene, but two might be pushing it. Lol.

I hope you guys enjoy this. It's the second last chapter, only an epilogue to go. Woot! Thanks for all your support, and remember to review. The more you review, the quicker I update! INCENTIVE! Yay! Lol.

Huge thanks to Scar and Nettie who have helped me out while I stressed about my grammar/ideas etc. Love you guys!

And Jenne, I finally got it updated ok? This is for you.

Go read anything by AllieM, you won't regret it.

Onwards with Touch!

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"Have a heart that never hardens, a temper that never tires, a touch that never hurts"

– Charles Dickens

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Sunday, October 17th

The first time he was roused from his drug-induced slumber, he had thought he was blind. The room had been completely dark, and his left shoulder screamed at him in agony as he lifted his hand to try and see if it was visible. His nerves were alleviated as he noticed the thin strip of light coming from under the door to his room. He had settled himself by breathing evenly, trying to remember where he was and why he was there.

The sting that shot down his arm as he shifted kindly reminded him; and his mind switched to its subject of choice.

Olivia.

"What about you?"

"I can't lose you Olivia. You need to go so I know that you'll be ok."

"What about me?"

The shot rang out before Elliot could react, the bullet hitting him in the left shoulder. Ashton pulled the trigger again, but let out a wail as his gun jammed.

"Elliot! Elliot!" Olivia was screaming for him across the room, her strangled cries reverberating in the small space.

"Ashton, get down. NOW!"

Porter's voice now permeated the air, but Elliot's head had begun to swim, his arm like lead at his side. Blood was pumping furiously from his shoulder, his right hand pressing at the wound to stem the flow. He could feel and hear a number of bodies moving around the room, and he assumed that the team was apprehending Ashton.

He could feel one body in particular at his side, sobbing uncontrollably as warm hands pressed with his on his shoulder.

"El? Can you hear me?"

He wanted to nod and tell Olivia he was ok, and that his shoulder was a little sore, but he couldn't find his voice.

"El, the bus is coming, you gotta hold on ok? Remember? You have to be strong for me 'cause I can't do this alone."

She was whispering the words he had told her days ago in his ear, her lips moving softly against the lobe as she spoke. It calmed his heart-beat considerably and he felt his body relax. She moved her lips from his ear to his cheek, her tears mingling with his own.

"Elliot, if you leave me now, I won't make it."

The honesty behind her words made his head spin even faster. He lifted his right hand to her face; it was bloodstained but she didn't seem to notice. He ran his fingers through her hair, cupping the back of her head. He was shivering now, uncontrollably as the blood loss began to overwhelm him.

"Liv…I…"

"Ssh, please, Elliot. You tell me that when you wake up ok? Not now."

Her hand pressed harder, ignoring Porter's attempt to pull her away for medical attention of her own.

"Fuck off Porter. Elliot, I know ok? Me too, but you tell me when you wake up…"

Porter had finally managed to pull her off him, the medics taking her place at his side.

The last thing he remembered before slipping into unconsciousness; was the feeling of Olivia's hand, strong and warm, in his own.

Two days later and rather than worrying about his sight, he was worried about his sanity.

He was itching to go to the toilet, but he was too nervous to call his nurse in case she tried to ask him out on a date again. Hanna had blonde hair, big blue eyes and was probably the same age as Maureen; but she was fixated with the idea that he was a cop. Every time she saw he was awake, her eyes would light up and she would interrogate him about his job until he feigned fatigue.

His restlessness also had a lot to do with the fact he hadn't seen Olivia in two days.

Ashton hadn't raped her like he had feared he might. Apart from dehydration and a cut that required stitches on her forehead, Olivia had escaped serious injury. Apparently, Ashton was more intent on harming him than Olivia.

And he succeeded, he thought wryly as he tried to move his injured shoulder. He winced as he flexed the fingers of his left hand, watching the muscles in his forearms move as he retracted them.

Porter had apprehended Ashton, and he was serving the full length of his 25-year sentence that Judge Petrovsky had so kindly dished out. This time, the judge had refused bail.

He was so absorbed in his own thoughts and the movement of his fingers; he failed to notice the presence of another person in his room.

"You find the meaning of life?"

His head whipped up to meet the weary eyes of his Captain.

"Cap, it's outside visiting hours." He tried to sit up out of habit, but regretted his decision as his head began to swim.

Cragen approached his bed with an outstretched arm, "Stop. Just rest."

He flopped back against the pillows, trying to fight the exhaustion that was beginning to spread through his body.

Cragen sat himself in the chair beside his bed that Olivia had apparently made her own. That was until Saturday night just before he'd regained consciousness.

According to Casey, who had managed to sneak into his room just before his Captain, she was at home on doctor's orders, and it was taking all of Simon's strength to keep her there. He smiled widely at the angst that Simon was probably going through; if he himself was half as stubborn as her, her poor brother was probably ripping his hair out.

His smile faltered when he noticed the decidedly sombre look on his Captain's face.

Cragen sighed, leaning his arms on his legs so he could rub his face; he looked like he hadn't sleep in a week. He probably hadn't.

"Elliot, there are some serious questions that need answering."

He moved his head back to face his Captain, "Now?"

Cragen looked up, "Yeah, now. Because I know that you won't be able to storm out of the room or throw things around in a fit of rage."

Elliot wanted to laugh, but felt it catch in his throat as the movement made his shoulder twinge painfully. He'd have to bite the bullet soon and call Hanna for some pain-killers.

"Tucker was in my office yesterday afternoon looking for an explanation," he paused, clasping his hands together tightly, "we had to give him the tapes from the warehouse."

Elliot closed his eyes tightly, trying to remove the image of Tucker listening to him practically declare his love for Olivia. He'd forgotten for a moment that despite the fact he had pulled the wire out of his ear, it was still recording everything that had been said in that room.

"Did he listen to them?"

He kept his eyes closed, but he could feel Cragen moving in his chair, "We listened to them."

Shit.

"And?"

He opened his eyes at Cragen's silence. Knots began to twist his insides as he realised whatever Cragen had to say may not be what he wanted to hear.

"He heard what you said to Ashton, and what you said to Olivia."

He wanted to be embarrassed, he wanted to feel his face flush as he realised that half of the NYPD probably knew that he, Elliot Stabler, had it bad for his partner.

But all he really wanted to do was get Olivia with him alone without the presence of a mad gun-man so they could cut through all the bullshit that had been surrounding them for so long.

Cragen stood from his seat and began to pace the length of his hospital bed, "What did Tucker say?"

Cragen stopped, fixing Elliot with his tired gaze again, "That you couldn't work together anymore."

Elliot's heart moved into his throat, "What?"

Cragen nodded, "I could ignore the fighting as simply part of the pressures of the job, but IAB don't see blatant proclamations of love for your partner as an integral part of hostage negotiations. They couldn't look past this Elliot."

Elliot found himself looking anywhere but at his Captain. Mostly out of guilt. Cragen had showed so much faith in them as Detectives and as partners and he was defending them again in front of the brass. In the space of a week, they had managed to throw Cragen into a position that, at best, would end with a re-assignment for him or Olivia.

Or both.

"I'm sorry."

Cragen didn't answer, choosing instead to move across the room, stopping at the windowsill. He turned his back to Elliot, looking out at the city skyline barely visible through the frosted glass.

The fragmented images beyond it a reflection of the current situation.

"I know you are, Elliot." He turned back to face the bed, his arms folded in front of him. "Is it worth it?"

Elliot swallowed thickly, nodding his head, "She's worth it, Cap. When Kathy and I separated, the only thing that kept me going was the fact I knew that Olivia would be there in the morning and a phone call away. And then she left and a part of me died, Don."

Cragen was silent at the window, allowing him the space to vent what he'd bottled up during Olivia's absence, "And she came back, and I thought I'd be happy. But I was angry. And guilty. Angry at myself for letting our partnership disintegrate so easily, and guilty because I felt worse about the state of my partnership than my marriage." He rubbed his eyes with his right hand, trying to get rid of the burning sensation, "and the worst part is that it took me too God-damned long to figure it out. My wife figured it out before me for Christ's sake."

Cragen had moved quietly back to the chair at Elliot's bed-side, "You've left me in an awkward position Elliot."

He nodded, all of a sudden feeling leaden all over. His body was craving sleep, but his heart and mind needed closure, "What's going to happen?"

"I managed to convince the brass that you shouldn't lose your badges, but you can't be partners anymore."

"You want one of us to transfer out?"

He didn't want to hear the answer, but he forced his eyes to stay open long enough for Cragen's response.

"No."

Relief. Warm sweet relief began to replace the lead in his veins, and he felt a lightness he hadn't experienced in ages sweep over him. Despite his willingness to leave his job for the sake of exploring new territory with Olivia, he knew that she would kill him if she knew he'd given it up for her. He probably would've done the same to her.

He turned his weary eyes to watch his Captain as he moved to the door. "You'll need to explain to Munch, Fin and Lake why there's going to be a major re-shuffle in the squad."

Elliot smiled; a full-blown grin that felt foreign to him, "Thanks Captain."

Cragen's lips lifted in a tired smile. But his eyes were conveying so much more than Elliot had seen in more than a decade of working with him. For the first time in a long time, his Captain didn't look disappointed in the decision he was making in regards to his partnership with Olivia.

Cragen took in a deep breath, his hand resting on the doorknob, "Now sleep and maybe when they release you tomorrow morning we can finally un-cuff Olivia from her night-stand."

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Monday, October 18th

"Wakey, wakey, Detective Stabler!"

He started groaning something he hoped was a 'fuck off', but the light that was now streaming through his window shut him up mid-grunt. His mouth had retained the cottony-feel that came from the drugs that helped him sleep, but a glass of water would fix that.

However, for a glass of water he would need to open his eyes.

And if he opened his eyes they would certainly meet those of his call nurse who had entirely too much energy for a morning. If Olivia were here, she'd have thrown both their coffees over her. And then Munch's for good measure.

"Elliot? You need to wake up for your morning dose. Hello?"

He cracked open one eye as minimally as possible, trying his best not to recoil at Hanna's close proximity.

"Morning." Her straight white teeth were bared in a huge grin, her nose almost touching his.

He moved his head to the side, lifting his right hand to rub sleepily at his eyes. "Can I get a glass of water please?"

Hanna's smile faltered somewhat, but she hid it by busying herself with her tray full of narcotics. One of which, he hoped, would return some sort of feeling to his arm.

"Here, Detective." She helped him into a sitting position, wheeling his tray in front of his so that he could take his pills.

"There's a lady for you in the waiting room, Detective Stabler."

He choked on the mouthful of water he was in the process of swallowing, coughs wracking his body as water escaped down his windpipe. His shoulder jarred and he gritted his teeth as the pain ripped at his shoulder.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he swore, fisting his hand tightly; hoping that his nails digging into his palm would take his mind off his shoulder.

"What have I told you Elliot? Try not to exert yourself too much," Hanna tutted at him, pushing him back lightly as she removed his tray-table.

Elliot ignored his impulse to push Hanna away, relenting to the pressure of her hands. He lay back into the pillows, "Am I still getting discharged today?"

Hanna stood back, arms folded, her foot tapping on the linoleum floor, "You can barely move. Do you have somebody who can take care of you?"

Elliot opened his mouth a couple of times, but nothing came out. He hadn't thought that far ahead. He couldn't move back in with Kathy and his kids were still at school or college so they couldn't stay at his place. Maybe Munch or Fin or…

"He'll be staying with me."

Olivia.

"Liv," he was doing that thing with his mouth again; his vocal cords were refusing to work with him this morning.

"Hi, El." Her smile was so wide and beautiful that he closed his eyes so he could file it in his mind for future reference.

"Who are you?"

Hanna. God he wanted to shove her into something hard and solid so that she'd finally stop talking.

"I'm his partner." He opened his eyes and found that she was still looking at him intently, her hands buried in her coat's pockets.

Hanna turned back to him for confirmation, but as far as he was concerned she wasn't even in the room anymore. With a final look back at Elliot, and one full of contempt for Olivia, she left the room, the door snapping closed loudly behind her.

"Hi," he wanted to have said something thought-provoking or smooth, but the smile that continued to grace her face had rendered him somewhat speechless. He didn't know why he hadn't noticed it before, but he promised to himself silently that he would do everything in his power to make sure she never stopped.

She finally moved her eyes off him, as she surveyed his hospital room. Despite only being there for a few days, most of which were spent asleep or unconscious, his shelving was full of flowers from colleagues and well-wishers. She began to pace the room, her fingers finally running lightly over the flower petals of the vase closest to him; barely disturbing the delicate petals as she moved onto the next ones.

Her hand fell onto the bed-side table, along its smooth surface and then to the cool sheets of his hospital bed. He closed his eyes as her fingers brushed his injured shoulder, the warmth seeping from her finger-tips through the thin cotton of his hospital gown onto his skin.

Her hand was now resting where it was when he had been shot initially, and he felt her fingers contract lightly.

"I thought I'd lost you El," her voice was barely above a whisper, a lone tear escaping and falling onto his forearm, "I thought you were going to leave me, you lost so much blood."

He moved his right hand to cover the one on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly in understanding, "what would I have done Elliot?"

He pulled her hand to his mouth, kissing her fingers lightly, "I'm here Liv, I'm not going anywhere. I promise you ok? We're in this together. Right?"

That smile was back and her eyes were clear despite her tears for the first time in five years. She wasn't running anymore; she wasn't running away from them despite all the risks involved.

"Right by your side Elliot, just like always."

His face broke out into the grin that Cragen had prompted from him the night before. He turned Olivia's hand in his, resting his lips against her palm, then the inside of her wrist; he couldn't get enough of the feel of her against him.

"El, you need to recover." She pulled her hand from his mouth, but settled it on his chest instead; "I'm not going to be held responsible for a slow recovery."

Elliot leant forward, his lips brushing her ear. "My lips aren't injured Liv."

He smirked as she leant into his touch, her body betraying her already weak protests.

"Elliot, we're in a hospital r…"

He knew from now on, if he ever wanted to silence Olivia, this was the best way to do it. His right hand moved of its own accord, sliding through and fisting in her hair. He liked it short, it reminded him of times when things had been easier between them, when they could be in the same room without it ending in an argument.

He much preferred this to fighting with Olivia, and as she moved her hand to cup his cheek, he didn't think he'd ever felt so warm and giddy. Her lips were soft and gentle against his, and he almost laughed as he thought about how brazen and tough as a person she was and how it went against everything this kiss was.

He let out a moan of his own as Olivia's tongue prodded softly at his lips, seeking entrance that he was very willing to give. He tried to get closer to Olivia, his hand leaving her head to press at her lower back, trailing up and down the rough material of her coat.

As air became an issue, Olivia pulled back, trailing kisses across his face; his nose, eyelids and cheeks. She was memorising his face with her lips, and he was lost in the feel of it.

"You're here," she kissed his ear, "not dead," his chin, "here with me," his nose, "I love you."

Her lips met his again in a far more frenzied kiss, almost as though keeping in contact with him would confirm in her mind that he was there with her. He wanted desperately to tell her that he loved her too, but she was doing something with her tongue that had made his mind spin helplessly.

If he had known she could kiss like this, he would've pulled her into the cribs a long time ago.

He went to run his left hand through her hair, but had to tear his lips from hers as a bolt of pain shot from his shoulder to his finger-tips. He fell hopelessly back into the pillows, panting lightly, cursing his shoulder and Ashton to hell.

He ran his right hand up to caress her cheek, thinking that with her lips so swollen and hair so mussed, nobody had ever looked so kissable. He moved his thumb across her cheek, then her lips, smiling as she kissed it.

"You're not dying anymore Elliot, you can tell me now." He wasn't sure what she was talking about at first, her voice was so low and husky that he shivered involuntarily instead.

"I do love you Olivia. I know, I'm an idiot, I should've told you ages ago," he stopped, moving their joined hands to his chest, "but we let everything get in the way. We can't let that happen again, ok? I think the guys at the precinct are tired of all our arguing."

Olivia laughed; the laugh momentarily froze the outside world and made everything seem inconsequential.

"Are you all set to leave?"

Her questioned startled him and he realised he had been staring. She released his hand and was looking around his room to make sure everything was packed away. Kathleen and the twins had been in the previous day to make sure he was all set to leave that morning.

"You have no idea." He sat up again, slower this time, "except the kids had no idea what to do with all these flowers, reckon I can leave them for Nurse Nutty?"

Olivia raised an eyebrow in question, "Who's Nurse Nutty?"

Elliot smirked, "My call nurse who won't leave me alone."

Olivia's face dawned in recognition, "Oh, you mean that nurse who tried to kill me with her eyes?"

Elliot snorted, "Yes, that's her. But be nice, I need clearance from her and my Doctor before I can leave"

Olivia smiled, shaking her head, "I'll be back."

"That's what you always say," he smiled coyly at her as she frowned at him over her shoulder.

"I'll leave you alone with Nurse Nutty if you're going to be rude like that," she paused at the doorway, "maybe she'll let you stay at her place?"

Elliot laughed, "Love you Olivia."

Olivia snorted, disappearing into the corridor, "That's what you always say."

By the time he had managed to get into a position that would allow him to get out of the bed, Olivia had returned with Hanna and his Doctor for a final evaluation.

"How are you feeling, Mr Stabler?" Dr Portman pulled his hospital gown off his shoulder where his wound was covered by a bandage.

Elliot winced as he pulled back the gauze, "Fine. Just numb more than anything, but the drugs are helping."

Portman nodded, "you're not feeling queasy?"

Elliot shook his head, "should I?"

Portman smirked, "No, Mr Stabler. But it's a normal reaction to a blood transfusion after a couple of days."

Elliot frowned, "blood transfusion?"

Portman continued to analyse his injury, "you lost a lot of blood, Detective. Lucky Miss Benson was riding with you; otherwise you may have bled out."

Elliot's eyes met Olivia's over Portman's shoulder. She had rolled up her sleeve to where a band-aid was covering her inner elbow and his heart skipped a beat.

You know we've been partners all these years and I don't even know your blood type.

A-positive.

Well, what do you know? Me too.

Olivia quirked an eyebrow at him, "I'm your partner, El. Who else would put up with you?"

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Four Weeks Later, Tuesday, November 18th

"Shit."

He opened the kitchen window in a vain attempt to stop the smoke from reaching the alarm. He had managed to set it off more times in his month-long stay with Olivia, than she had done in her entire time living there.

Well, that was what her neighbour had told him two days ago.

He was hoping he would be able to provide her with a home-cooked meal after a long week chasing dead-ends with Fin and Lake. She had called an hour ago, telling him she'd be home soon.

He moved with ease around her kitchen and, not for the first time, shook his head at how familiar Olivia's apartment felt to him. He hadn't been back to his own since Olivia had been abducted, but most of his stuff was now scattered all over her place.

His shoulder was healing well, and he was into his last week of physiotherapy. His arm no longer felt like lead when he moved it, and he would return to desk duty the coming Monday.

Work would require some minor shuffling, with he and Olivia announcing their relationship to the Detectives of the squad, Casey and his kids upon his release from hospital. Olivia had been re-assigned with Fin as her partner, and himself with Lake. Munch would act as a go-between.

As much as he loved sitting around watching Oprah and day-time soaps, he longed for the familiarity of the squad-room and being in closer proximity to Olivia. Even if she was no longer his partner, he still had an intrinsic belief that it was his duty to protect her.

Their time together had not gone without some arguments, most to do with Olivia's independent routines and habits which had to be reconfigured to include him. They were able to eventually achieve equilibrium each time; but it was clear Olivia had never been in the situation with another person, let alone another man, like she was facing each day with him.

He had to change as well. Olivia refused to take his excuse of being too tired as a reason not to talk to her about what he was feeling. He was so used to telling Kathy everything was okay, and that it wasn't anybody's problem but his own, that it shocked him at how easily the words left his mouth when they were speaking.

It was mostly late at night; and it was mostly with her pressed against him as tightly as possible.

He couldn't get enough of the feeling of her body against him in any way he could get.

When she'd kiss him good bye before she left for work in the morning, the taste of her on his lips a promise of what was to come that night.

When she'd slap his arm playfully as he held the remote control out of her reach as they stayed awake until they couldn't keep their eyes open anymore.

When she'd kiss the scar on his shoulder before she fell asleep every night during the first week, as though reminding herself that he really was there beside her.

He felt his body respond suddenly to the mere thought of Olivia's presence. Christ, he was like a randy teenager.

They both were. They couldn't get enough of each other. Since his injury had healed to a bearable numbness, there wasn't a room or surface in Olivia's apartment that hadn't been used as a way for them to get to know each other intimately.

He grinned as his eyes fell on the stool at the breakfast bar. He had barely been awake earlier in the day when Olivia had straddled his lap to wish him a very good morning.

The sound of keys in the lock startled him from his reverie. He turned the stove off, moving the hot pan to the sink so he could drain the pasta. He didn't even bother taking the garlic bread out of the oven, the charcoal pieces enough to get him banned from her kitchen for life.

"Something smells like its burning." He heard the smile in her voice as she appeared in the doorway, "but I'd eat a picture of a dead rat at the moment, so what've you got?"

"Hello to you too," he said over his shoulder, turning his head to avoid the steam from the hot food.

"Hi baby," she threaded her arms around his waist, resting her hands over his chest.

She stood on her tip-toes to reach his lips. "I made dinner."

She smiled against his mouth, "I can see…and smell that. How in the hell did you manage to burn the pasta?"

Elliot sat the pot on the sink, turning in her arms so he could envelope her in a hug, "I didn't burn the pasta."

She pulled back to lift an eyebrow at him, "ok, I burnt the garlic bread."

Olivia giggled, kissing him quickly before pulling away, "I need to get out of these clothes, and then we can eat."

Olivia hadn't been lying when she said she was hungry. An hour and two plates of pasta later, Olivia was laying with her back against the headboard, Elliot's head in her lap. He was almost lulled into sleep from the feeling of her hands running through his hair, her nails scraping lightly at his scalp.

"I miss you at work, El," she whispered to him, her hands never breaking rhythm, "I look up from my desk and I want to see you there."

Elliot opened his eyes, turning his head up to look at her, "I know. Fin isn't as sexy as me."

She smiled despite his lame attempt at humour, "I'm serious, Elliot. Fin and I went out to collar a perp today and I spent most of the time making sure he was there beside me. I never did that when we worked together."

Elliot shifted in the bed so that he was looking down at her, "Liv, it kills me to know that I won't be next to you every time you get into a potentially dangerous situation, but that's exactly why we can't be partners," Olivia nodded, resting her head in the crook of his neck, "How am I supposed to make an objective decision when you're at the crux of it?"

Her lips were wreaking havoc with his pulse-point and it was getting increasingly harder to speak with any sort of logic.

"I know. I love you and I just miss you. Maybe it'll change once you get back to the precinct?"

Elliot nodded, tracing his hand under her tee to stroke her back. He couldn't get over how warm her skin was; no matter how cold it was, she would always have impossibly hot skin.

"We have something in common…" She raised her eyebrow in question. "I love you and I missed you today," he whispered, using his unoccupied hand to smooth up her leg, "I had nobody to laugh with when I was watching MXC."

Olivia snorted, trying her best to seem unaffected by where his hand was moving to, "Nobody likes that except you."

Elliot pretended to be offended, "you laughed!"

Olivia sighed as his hand reached her hot centre, "shit…I was laughing at…oh…you."

Elliot smirked into her hair, his fingers sliding into her warmth, "oh yeah?"

Olivia nodded, her hand clawing at his shirt as her hips bucked towards his hand. Her thighs tightened around his fingers, keeping them where they were. Not that he had any plans to remove them soon.

"Oh, Elliot." He loved the way his name sounded coming out of her mouth, it was like she was trying to hypnotise him with each syllable. And it always worked.

"Yeah, Liv?"

Her breath hitched as he hit a spot a decidedly sensitive spot inside of her, "fuck."

He groaned at how husky her voice had grown, and a certain part of him grew in response.

She moved quickly, throwing her left leg over his thighs to straddle him, his hard length begging for release from the confines of his cotton boxers. Olivia's hands made quick work of his boxers and he was inside of her before he could even remove his fingers properly.

"I love you inside of me, Elliot." Her eyes searched his as she slid down his length slowly, "this is worth not having you beside me during the day." She closed her eyes, her head falling back, "having you beside me at night to help me forget what a shitty day I had is worth it."

Elliot nodded, giving into the need to attach his lips to her exposed neck, "you gotta move faster Liv, or this'll be over real soon."

He could barely stand the feeling of her hot and tight over him, her walls pulsing lightly against his cock. She needed to move, but she seemed beyond it at the moment, a low moan working its way out of her throat.

He took the initiative instead, flipping them over so he was hovering over her, her legs wrapping themselves automatically around his waist, "oh, shit, El."

He was impossibly deep inside her now, the new angle causing her moan to become more high pitched and persistent; a red flush covering her face. He couldn't see her chest, but he knew it was there as well. He would have laughed at the way their desire for each other had barely allowed them to get enough clothes off, but she was doing that thing with her tongue again and he could barely remember to keep moving.

He traced his hand back up her leg to where they were joined, and rubbed his finger once, twice, three times against her swollen clit and she exploded below him. His name an un-ending mantra from her lips as she began to shake from her orgasm. He loved watching her face as she came; the way her eyes and mouth would open wide, her hands gripped him tightly wherever she could reach, her inner muscles gripping at his throbbing cock as her orgasm tore through her.

"Shit, Liv," he panted, his lips dropping to hers.

"Come for me, El," she said around his tongue.

She tightened her inner muscles, and he followed her over the edge.

"God, I needed that," Olivia sighed, hooking her leg over Elliot's thigh so he'd stay over her.

Elliot smiled against her neck, licking at the sheen of sweat that was covering her skin, "yeah, me too."

Olivia's breathing evened out not long after that, and he was finally able to roll off her to allow her to breathe more easily. Immediately, her hands reached out for him and he smiled at the way that even in sleep, she was searching for him to be at her side.

He pulled one of them up to his lips, kissing her fingers like he did the first time he saw her in the hospital, revelling in the calm that was sweeping so easily through his veins. It was a calm that had taken a long time for him to find; and if it came from telling Olivia that he loved her that achieved it, he wondered why he hadn't done it earlier.

Maybe, if he had realised how wonderful Olivia would feel wrapped in his arms, he would've taken her in them a lot sooner.

Maybe, if he had, he would have realised that there was more safety on offer in one of Olivia's hands than both their skills as police officers combined.

Although he'd never tell any living soul, he was grateful to Robert Ashton for opening his eyes to the possibility of a life and future with Olivia Benson. As she slept soundly in his arms, he tried to imagine where he would be if the events all those weeks ago hadn't occurred.

He found that his mind pulled up only feelings of guilt and misery.

But here, lying in bed next to Olivia, he felt like there was only room to grow, both independently and together.

The potentiality that he feared they were lacking had begun to blossom with each day that passed, and reinforced with each minute together.

And because she would always be his partner, in the feeling of Olivia at his side.