Disclaimer: No, not mine. And if I was producing the quality of writing at the moment, I wouldn't want them to be mine either.
Author's note: Where to start? I could start by apologising for taking so long to update but I know you all love me and that you'll forgive. Right? But I am sorry, I've just been so busy that I haven't had the chance to sit and write. The past couple of days have allowed me to put thoughts to paper. Or screen. LolSame difference. I understand that there's a serious EO drought right now, so this chapter is my attempt at helping you forget about it.
I was going to wait another week before posting this because it wasn't quite finished; but with some prompting from Nettie, I've decided to post the epilogue in two parts. I've only completed what I've posted at the moment, and will need to write the next part when I get the time. But it's entirely up to you guys. You need to tell me in a review if you want another chapter; and if enough of you do, I'll post the second part. This chapter ends quite well, and I'm more than happy to leave it at that; but if I get enough of you persuading me otherwise, I'll post part two. Deal?
So take the time to leave a review; maybe a sentence, maybe one word. I love to hear from you guys.
Hope you enjoy it.
Allie and Sam – you keep me inspired.
My thanks and love to Nettie and Scar who have had some hard times recently. This is for you guys.
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"Someone to whom we feel profoundly connected, as though the communication and communing that take place between us were not the product of intentional efforts, but rather a divine grace. This kind of relationship is so important to the soul that many have said there is nothing more precious in life"
- Thomas Moore
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Proprioception: Some disciplines believe that we have a sixth sense, one that some call psychic; an innate knowledge often associated with a gut feeling. Or, perhaps, simply knowing your soulmatebeyond the boundaries of the five regular senses.
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One Year Later
"I didn't do it, I swear."
Elliot smirked from behind the one-way mirror of the interrogation room, watching with his Captain and Huang as Olivia and Lake tried to get Lesley Pullman to crack. Pullman had been accused by his girlfriend of molesting her five year-old daughter. The girl had been silent since, refusing to speak to or have anyone in close proximity apart from her mother and Olivia.
All the evidence pointed at Pullman, including an eye-witness account and the fact Isabelle Cooke had been in his care on the day her mother had lodged the complaint. But Casey claimed that what they had was circumstantial at best and they needed a confession if they were to indict; especially if Isabelle Cook remained silent.
And it didn't help that their eye-witness believed John F. Kennedy was President.
In a bid to seem innocent, Pullman waived his right for representation, but the detectives had experienced enough to know that it didn't necessarily equal an innocent conscience. Gordon Rickett had allowed a 24-hour interrogation to take place without legal assistance and he had been guilty as sin.
"I swear to you! I didn't do it! Why don't you believe me?"
Elliot shook his head, rubbing his chin in frustration. Pullman's story was changing more times than they could keep up with. He was still sticking to his guns that he was innocent, but Elliot had a gut feeling there was something he was holding back.
"He did it!" He turned to Huang, "I know he did it. But we're not getting through to him."
Huang nodded, "I think he did it as well. He fabricates events where it's necessary for his story to be credible, but not so much that it isn't. You need to trap him in his lies."
Elliot nodded, turning to Cragen, "I want to go back in there."
Cragen levelled his gaze at him, and Elliot had the distinct feeling he was being x-rayed. He was silent so long he was afraid his Captain had forgotten what he'd asked him.
Finally, Cragen nodded. "Pull Lake out."
Elliot froze, thinking he hadn't heard Cragen right. Since he and Olivia had been split up, Cragen had diligently kept them apart in all facets of work so that IAB and One PP would keep off his back; and that included interrogating suspects. The only time they ever interacted together at work was when they were making coffee at the same time or when they were all in the bullpen brainstorming.
"Lake, sir?"
He kept his voice low; almost as if he spoke any louder he'd break Cragen out of the trance he had to be in. He wouldn't be telling him to go into that room under any other steam.
Maybe Munch had put something in the coffee earlier in the morning as a way for them to remember him by.
Cragen turned to face the mirror, "Yes, Elliot, Lake. And don't let me regret my decision."
Elliot took one more look back at his Captain before moving purposefully towards the door to the interrogation room, taking a deep breath before yanking it open.
Pullman looked up with a furrowed brow, "You come to beat me up again?"
Elliot smirked, "I barely touched you."
When he and Fin had taken their turn at Pullman earlier in the day, Elliot had introduced him to the wall of the precinct.
Twice.
Pullman let out a puff of air in dissent, but Elliot was now focused on the way Olivia was trying to hide the small smile he could see creasing the sides of her mouth. As soon as he stood to the left of her he felt as if he was returning home to something; a sense of familiarity running through his veins. And he could feel from the way her back became straighter, that she was thinking the exact same thing.
Lake had left without another word, the door snapping shut quietly.
Pullman was now fixing them with a look that Elliot hadn't seen in a perp since he and Olivia had been partners.
Fear.
There was something about their combination that was able to evoke a sense of anxiety and uncertainty in the most self-assured suspect.
This is what had been missing over a year ago.
This was what was missing between him and Fin and Olivia and Lake.
The intangible; the feeling that didn't come to just anybody; but which had to be earned after years of being partners and understanding each other's rhythm and movement.
Being able to anticipate.
Being able to predict.
Being able to sense.
Elliot strode to the empty seat next to Olivia, sitting down heavily, "Now, Lesley, there are some things we're not quite understanding."
Pullman eyed him cautiously, suddenly unsure in what he was saying. "Like what? That I'm innocent? That can't be really hard to understand. I didn't do it, simple as that."
Olivia turned to Elliot. "You hear that Detective Stabler? He thinks we're stupid."
Pullman swallowed loudly, "No, I didn't. I just..."
"Shut up," Elliot cut him off, "you told us that on Monday you weren't even looking after Isabelle." He leant forward slightly, folding his hands in front of him. "So who did you leave her with?"
Pullman frowned. "With the neighbour."
Elliot didn't answer, beginning instead to unbutton the cuffs of his shirt. Pullman watched him with wide eyes, and he could feel Olivia almost smiling next to him.
Olivia tapped the table with her index finger. "Which neighbour Mr. Pullman?"
Pullman was still focused on Elliot as he rolled his sleeve up his forearm, "Mrs Enfield," he stuttered.
Olivia rose from her chair, the legs scratching loudly along the floor, "You mean senile Mrs Enfield who thinks it's 1975?"
Pullman was now watching as Olivia moved slowly behind him, but he didn't dare turn his head and expose himself to Elliot, "She seemed in a right frame of mind when I left Isabelle with her."
Olivia nodded, pretending to accept his answer. "What time would you say you did that?"
Pullman leant back, "around three in the afternoon."
Olivia paused, "But you told Detectives Stabler and Tutuola that it was at two." She was now directly behind Pullman's chair, leaning down to his ear. "Were you lying Mr. Pullman?"
Pullman shook his head frantically, "Maybe it was two. I don't know. It was in the afternoon sometime."
Elliot watched as Olivia moved her head to Pullman's other ear, smirking in what he hoped was a menacing way. Pullman was rattled, his leg bouncing up and down as Olivia invaded his personal space.
"We asked Mrs Enfield if you left Isabelle with her," Olivia whispered, "and she had no recollection of ever being left in charge of a small child" Olivia's lips were now a scant inch from Pullman's ear. "But do you know who remembers exactly what happened that day?"
Elliot watched as Pullman's eyes widened further, his own flicking to Olivia's. She raised her eyebrow imperceptibly.
She was bluffing.
"Tell me Detective Benson," Elliot requested, leaning in further, "who?"
Olivia moved her head again to Pullman's other ear, "Do you know who lives in the apartment on the other side of the Cooke's? He's a retired detective from the homicide division, Mr Pullman, and old habits die hard. Do you know what he remembers?"
Pullman's mouth was opening and closing like a goldfish, but only a squeaking sound was coming out.
Elliot cocked his head to the side, "No, Detective Benson, what does he remember?"
"He seems to remember your story going a little differently. Tell me Mr Pullman," Olivia leant, if possible, even closer, "how do you think your two stories diverged?"
Pullman's head dropped to the table, and Olivia's shining eyes met his.
Bingo.
We got him, El.
I know. I've missed this.
Yeah, me too.
Pullman dissolved into tears, repeating "I'm sorry" onto the table's surface.
Elliot sat back, watching as Olivia scooped up the papers sitting on the table in between he and Pullman. He hadn't realised how much he missed working with her until now, and how out of sync he now seemed as Fin's partner. They had spent all morning trying to get a confession out of Pullman, and it had taken all of ten minutes with Olivia to get a result.
He sighed, moving out of his seat so Casey could take his place to get a signed confession from the blubbering Pullman. Following Olivia out of the room, their Captain was waiting for them on the other side of the mirror.
Elliot and Olivia stood next to each other while Cragen, with his hands deep in his pockets, kept his gaze on Casey and Pullman.
"Great job," Cragen said, eyes still on the occupants of the other room. "Type up the DD-5 and get out early. I'll see you tonight."
Elliot tried his best to repress the smile he wanted to give at how good he felt at that moment, and let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "Right, Munch's retirement party."
How could he forget? He'd spent five hours following Olivia into every dress store in Manhattan trying to find something for her to wear.
They hadn't found anything, but they probably weren't going to be welcomed back with open arms at Macy's anytime soon. It wasn't entirely his fault, Olivia had been half-naked and the other dressing rooms had been empty. He had simply taken advantage of the situation offered to him.
He had never been a fan of public displays of affection, let alone sex in the fitting room of a department store, but Olivia brought out a side of him that he didn't know he had in him. And he had to say, he loved every minute of it.
Despite being together for a little over a year, Munch's retirement dinner would be the first place where they would attend as a couple in front of all of their colleagues.
Neither he or Olivia particularly enjoyed social gatherings, but as he followed her back into the bullpen, he thought maybe, for the first time, he actually would.
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"Dad, why are you so nervous?"
The blue eyes of his eldest daughter looked up at him as he attempted to do up the buttons of his white dress shirt. He had missed the same button-hole twice and he was grateful when Maureen gently moved his hands to the side to finish the job herself.
Her question was a loaded one. He wasn't nervous because of what he was about to do. He was nervous because he wasn't nervous about what he was going to do. In fact, he couldn't remember a time when he was so sure about something.
"She'll say yes, you know," Maureen had finished his shirt and was now inching his tie over his head.
Navy blue. Like Olivia's dress.
Also like the colour Olivia said his eyes were when she caught him staring at her.
Or the colour she had been wearing when she had left him after the Gitano case.
But, more importantly, the colour she had been wearing when she had come back to him.
"I know she will," he winced as Maureen tugged his tie over his ear, "but it's a big step, you know. It might mean one of us will have to transfer out completely."
Maureen nodded, lifting his collar as she straightened his tie, "She's good for you dad. I haven't seen you this happy in a long time."
Elliot nodded. Since he and Kathy had finalised their divorce over a year ago, their relationship had become easier; more amicable. Olivia encouraged him to go out to dinner with his ex-wife and his kids at least once a month and he found himself communicating with his ex better than he ever did married.
His kids were old enough to realise that the divorce was in everybody's best interests, culminating with Henry moving in with Kathy over six months ago. He wasn't as upset about the developments as he thought he would be; but then again, if he did have an issue, he'd be a huge hypocrite.
The baby hadn't been his either; and he was okay with that. He hadn't been in the right frame of mind to go through the motions of having another child; especially with Kathy. Baby James had taken his mother's maiden name as well as her blue eyes, and Elliot smiled widely when Lizzie and Dickie would inform him about every little thing that he would get up to.
Olivia would listen to their conversations with a wistful look on her face. But he knew that behind the beautiful smile she'd give his kids as they told her how James had said his first word, there was a fear. Fear about having kids of her own.
But also fear that she may never get to experience it herself.
Yet, that had changed a month ago.
Henry had been in a car accident and Elliot had offered to babysit the twins and James while Kathy stayed at the hospital. Lizzie and Dickie had fallen asleep almost as soon as they started the movie they had brought; and when he had returned from tucking them in inside one of the guest rooms, he had walked into the living room to see Olivia cradling James in her arms.
For a full ten minutes he was glued to the spot; taken aback by not just how happy she looked, but by how badly he wanted to have kids with this woman.
By how lucky a child would be to have her as their mother.
Olivia had looked up at him at that point, and held his eyes as she gently rocked James back to sleep. And he had known.
He knew, right then.
Right there, he saw in her eyes a clarity about not only her future, but their future, that she had been uncertain about since they had begun seeing each other.
All the doubt she had about being a mother that came from her own upbringing and as far back as her conception, had been dissipated in the seconds that she had James in her arms.
Half my genes are drunk and the other half are cruel and violent
And look how great you turned out
That discussion had been at a time when he himself had been in the middle of a separation from his family; and for a moment they had shared in their loneliness.
But in Olivia's living room, where she had experienced so much heartache; as she lowered James in between a border of pillows, he hadn't thought he'd seen Olivia look so complete.
"Done."
Maureen stepped back as though admiring her handiwork, either oblivious or ignoring the fact he had been off in his own little world. She moved out from in front of him so that he could see his reflection in the mirror.
"You look great, Dad."
He turned to Maureen, "Thanks, sweetie." He pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly.
"You call me when she says yes, okay?"
He laughed, her hair tickling his nose. "You'll be the first call I make."
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When he had married Kathy, there had been no proposal.
No chance to ask her father for his permission.
No option of setting up their future and then asking for her hand at a romantic candlelit dinner.
No opportunity to call her 'his fiancé'.
When they had married, she had been three months pregnant and he had spent the majority of the wedding avoiding her father. She had worn white, her belly barely showing as she sipped water during the speeches, smiling happily at all the warm well-wishers. Nobody had been the wiser.
And nobody said anything six months later when Maureen was born.
During the reception, held in her parents' back garden, he had been accosted by a particularly overzealous aunty of Kathy's as he was coming out of the bathroom; her pudgy face slightly pink from too much champagne and wine. She had grabbed his arm in a vice-like grip and had asked him questions that under normal circumstances would be easily answerable.
How did you propose?
How long were you engaged for?
What next?
He stood there, completely at sea, thanking the heavens that the aunty was too inebriated to properly register his answers. He hadn't really proposed; it had merely been a survival tactic.
If he didn't want to be murdered by Kathy's father, then he was to marry her as soon as possible. As a result, they hadn't technically been engaged. And as to what was to come next; it was no longer up to him. He was now a husband and soon-to-be father. All the plans he had carefully made a decade ago were no longer viable options if he and Kathy were going to make it.
In the end, she had bore him four beautiful children and twenty mostly happy years as a married man. He would never regret what they had, no matter how rushed and unpredictable it had been.
But he was now facing a completely new frontier with Olivia. He had the opportunity for the romantic proposal; for the time before the wedding to call her 'his fiancé' to any and all concerned. And he felt he was in a position in his life where he was finally settled; where his future seemed a lot more controllable.
He and Olivia had spoken about marriage over the past six months, and she seemed very open to the idea. When he had voiced his intentions to his children and Cragen the past week, they had been incredibly excited and happy at the news of the development.
Kathleen and Maureen had helped him pick out the ring, and he had settled on one that had made his daughters squeal at its 'prettiness'.
That had been three days ago, and he had spent those days and subsequent nights stressing over the best way to ask his partner and best friend of nine years to marry him.
Kathleen had suggested hiding it in a piece of cake Olivia would eat for dessert.
Maureen thought putting it in a glass of champagne was the best way to do it.
Lizzie held firm in her belief that Olivia would appreciate a trip to the top of the Empire State Building.
Dickie, in stark contrast, would roll his eyes and claim that Elliot could simply throw the ring at Olivia and she'd say yes. His indifferent attitude was a smoke-screen however; he adored Olivia. In fact, he had overheard Dickie asking Maureen if it would be ok to call Olivia 'mum' as well.
Despite assuring his children that each method was a wonderful suggestion, minus that of Dickie's, they lacked something. Not so much originality, but more that they didn't reflect his and Olivia's dynamic.
The reality was that they simply weren't dessert, champagne or Empire State Building people. They were happy to eat two-day old takeout from the precinct fridge when they stayed behind in the office for the fourth night in a row.
They were happy to turn their noses up at unknown food items found under their car-seats; and then laugh about it when they dared each other to eat it.
They were happy to sit in their sweats late at night, watching crappy re-runs until they fell asleep in each other's arms.
No, they weren't those types of people. Not for proposals anyway.
He toyed with the small velvet box resting in his suit pocket, as he fished for the key to her apartment with his other hand. He pushed open the door gently, and grinned immediately at the sound of Olivia singing off-key from the direction of the bathroom.
"Liv?"
The last time he had snuck up on her, he had ended up on the other side of her glock; his head in the firing line. If he hadn't been so terrified of being shot between the eyes, he would've laughed at how Olivia's face was covered in a gooey green beauty mask, a piece of cucumber hanging off her chin.
"Elliot?"
He smiled again, his heart fluttering slightly as her head poked around the corner. "You ready?"
"Um, not quite. Give me five." She winked, "and stay there." She pointed her finger at him, noticing his movement towards her.
He smirked at her, challenging her with his eyes, "I'm serious El, stay."
He pouted, but her gaze remained unwavering. "Fine," he relented, shaking his head as hers disappeared back into the bathroom.
He sighed. Olivia's five minutes translated to twenty minutes when it came to her getting ready. He'd learnt that the hard way. For all the times she'd been on time, or even ahead of time, when it came to work related issues; somehow, her social clock was always delayed by several minutes. He flopped onto the couch, running his hands up and down his thighs so he had something to do with them that wasn't fidgeting.
"Casey called. She'll be here in twenty minutes; she got held up in court."
Elliot nodded, trying to ignore his body's desire to defy Olivia's order for him to stay out of the bathroom. It was getting increasingly hard to do, but if they were to be on time; and if Casey were to voluntarily keep her eyesight, it was best that he stay where he was.
But that meant he was alone with his thoughts; and that meant they automatically switched to what had been overwhelming him for the past week and a bit.
How to propose to Olivia.
He was sure she'd say yes, she'd been hinting at it more and more. But he didn't want to disappoint her. She'd been engaged before; she'd revealed that to him on one of the first cases they'd worked together, but the tone in which she described the occasion indicated it had left a lot to be desired. Granted, this was a completely different situation, but he wanted her to be able to have a story to tell their children and grandchildren.
To tell their friends and work colleagues.
The ideas that his children had so helpfully spouted lingered in his mind momentarily, but he dismissed them almost as quickly. He knew the perfect way to do it. And it didn't involve hidden jewellery and building-high confessions.
Underneath it all, he and Olivia were much less complex than that.
He smiled, as the sounds of her footsteps approached him, because he knew that as long as they were in it together, they would both appreciate the simplicity of it.
"Ready?"
He desperately wanted to say something suave, but his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth as Olivia stood in front of him. Screw the proposal; he wanted to start the honeymoon ASAP.
Her navy blue gown matched his tie perfectly, but that was the last thing on his mind as she did a mini-pirouette in front of him. The dress clung to all the right curves and ended just at the knee; the legs he adored wrapped around his body on full display.
The halter part of the dress was adorned with crystals that matched the chandelier earrings she was putting on; but her smile was even more dazzling than the jewellery.
He was rendered temporarily speechless; and fleetingly, Dickie's idea of throwing the ring at Olivia wasn't sounding like such a bad one after all.
"Wow, Liv...you look. Wow."
Jesus Christ, he had it bad. He couldn't even form complete sentences. But her smile indicated that she was more than pleased with his situation.
"Casey helped pick it out."
"Oh did she now?" He made a mental note to thank the DA.
Olivia nodded, her arms resting on his shoulders as he pulled her close, "And my earrings?"
Elliot's eyes shifted to look at the glittering jewellery, "They're beautiful."
Olivia grinned, "Your daughters picked them out for me."
Elliot's mouth opened. "All three agreed on one thing?"
Olivia snorted and all Elliot could do was pull her tightly into his arms, his hands coming into contact with...
"There's no back, Liv."
Olivia pulled away, turning in his arms, "I did a turn for you, didn't you notice?"
Elliot shook his head, trying his best to keep his hands and lips from indulging in the expanse of skin that was on offer. "I was too focused on your legs to be honest."
Olivia shivered as he ran his hand down her smooth back. "Does that mean you're not wearing any underwear?"
Olivia's forehead creased, but she continued to smile, "I spend two hours getting ready and you want to mess it up already?"
He leant in conspiratorially, "Then I'll give you a two hour head start."
Her dark eyes became almost black and he knew that she knew what he was thinking. It was as simple as that sometimes; just a look, or even a touch, and he'd know exactly what she wanted. And it worked in the reverse just as effectively.
Finally, she smiled again, her eyes almost rolling, "I'll get my bag."
As she walked back to her bedroom, the feeling of the small box began to feel like lead, and he knew that if he was going to ask Olivia, now was the perfect time. They were certainly dressed for the occasion, and he could only imagine the sort of screeching that would permeate the air when Casey arrived.
He pulled the box out, holding it firmly in the palm of his hand, trying to steady the frantic beating of his heart.
"Hey, my phone won't fit in my purse, you got room...what?"
Olivia stopped where she was, hands at her side. He had no idea what gave him away, but she sensed three seconds into entering the room that something was off. He tried to nonchalantly move his hands behind his back, but her eyes caught the slight movement and her mouth quirked into a smile.
"What are you doing?" Her eyes dipped back down again, but were straight up to meet his gaze just as quickly.
"Nothing," he cleared his throat, "just waiting for you. As usual."
Her eyes narrowed a little bit, her arms folding beneath her bust, "Elliot, what did you do?"
No guts, no glory.
"I just think you look so gorgeous tonight Liv. I'm practising keeping my hands off you."
Olivia snorted, shaking her head. "You're an idiot."
Elliot nodded his head in assent. "Yeah, but you still love me."
Olivia's smile faltered a little, her eyes fixing him with a look that would, and probably could, burn Lucifer himself. "Of course I do. Elliot, what did you do? Did you break something?"
He desperately wanted to laugh, but he knew that if he did, he'd lose what little valour he had. "No. But I was thinking."
Olivia nodded, encouraging him without words. She was always best at that, giving him the courage he required without him feeling as though he was needy, without patronising him.
"And I noticed that Casey helped with your dress, and the kids helped with your earrings, but I didn't do anything."
Olivia's mouth quirked. "You did me...in the dressing room."
Elliot took a step forward. "You know that's not what I meant."
Olivia cocked her head to the side and he knew that she was trying to read his thoughts. If only he could somehow block his mind from her; just for a second. He didn't want to spoil this.
"Well, you're paying for the cab ride. I think that counts for a lot."
He snorted, and Olivia's face seemed to lose some of the tension that had appeared with his secretiveness. He dropped the box into his back pocket, glad to see that this time, her eyes didn't follow.
"But, I realised I do have something."
Olivia's face broke into a beautiful smile, as she took a step forward. "What do you have?"
He ran his hand across her face, shifting her fringe as he went. "I've been doing a lot thinking recently..." he ignored the roll of her eyes. "And I was wondering. What does Olivia Benson want most in this world?"
"To find out what you're hiding from me?" She grinned at him impishly as she grabbed at his back pockets with her free hand.
"Hey! Hey!" he jumped out of her reach, taking her hands in his.
"Come on Elliot; don't make me kick your ass." She lifted her eyebrow, pulling him into her as closely as she could.
Out of everybody he knew; Olivia was probably the only one who could go toe to toe with him in a contest.
He tried to fend her off, but settled for holding her hands in his at her sides, "Liv, come on. You're making this hard and not at all romantic."
Olivia bit her lip, bowing her head, "ok."
When she looked back up at him, her saw that her eyes had begun to fill with tears. Her playfulness had been a way of hiding how vulnerable she was at that moment. He rubbed his nose against Olivia's; offering her solidarity in the silence.
He sighed, straightening slightly as he released the grip on Olivia's hands. "As I was saying; I thought of all the obvious things, you know? Family, happiness..." He leant forward, his lips brushing hers. "A drop dead gorgeous boyfriend."
A puff of air hit his lips as she chuckled. "Ok, maybe just gorgeous."
She shook her head, her lips moving back and forth across his. "No, I think it was an accurate description," her eyes lifted to his. "I just think you were selling yourself short is all."
He smiled, his hand squeezing her hip. "And then I remembered all those fears you used to tell me, Liv. About what sort of mother you'd be, what your kids would be like, whether you had some sort of intrinsic iniquity that made you deserve less than what you do."
He brushed a tear that had escaped, and she smiled embarrassedly. "Are you trying to get my make-up to run? Is that what you have for me?"
Elliot moved his hand from her hip to her cheek. "No, Liv. I just have a promise."
Olivia moved her head back, her eyes widening slightly. "What?"
"I promise that I will do everything I can to show you that you deserve everything you've missed out on. That I'll make the ghosts that haunt you from the job a little bit more bearable at night because I know what you're going through. I want you to be able to tell everybody proudly that you didn't have to accept some loser's proposal because you wanted to get away from your past."He pulled the ring out from his pocket, wiping at another tear. "I want you to accept my proposal because you want to go into the future; and hopefully, you'll let me be there to help you find the way if you get a little lost. God knows I will."
Olivia laughed, her eyes shining with tears. "You always sucked at navigating."
Elliot's chest rumbled with laughter, his fingers continuing to sweep at her tears. "That's why you're in the passenger seat next to me."
Olivia's hand cupped his cheek. "Where are you getting all this from, El?" her breath hitched, "I thought you'd broken a vase or something, and you get all wise on me."
He laughed, "You have no idea how long it's taken me to think of what to say, baby."
Olivia's bag fell from her grasp as she pulled him into a fierce hug; her body wracking as she sobbed into his neck. He ran his hands up and down her back, trying to comfort her, as his words overwhelmed her.
"Liv, I love you sweetheart. I want to tell everybody that you're going to be my wife - that we're going to get married." He kissed her hairline. "What do you say?"
"Yjijhidg," her lips moved against his neck, but he couldn't hear a thing.
"You'll need to come out from hiding, baby."
She pulled back, her eyes shining, "I said, yes," her hands cupping his cheeks. "Of course I'll marry you, El."
He opened the box that he was holding tightly in his hand, revealing the white gold band adorned with diamonds.
"Oh, El, it's beautiful," Olivia covered her mouth with her right hand, allowing Elliot to slip the ring onto her finger.
"Now, I think your outfit's complete."
Olivia pulled her eyes off the ring, smiling up at him, "I think this'll go with every outfit."
She looked back down at it, holding her hand out so the light reflected off it. "Does that mean you're my fiancé?"
He gave her a quick kiss, "I guess it does."
Olivia yanked the lapel of his jacket to seal her mouth over his, her lips still upturned into a grin. He soon changed that, his tongue slipping past her lips and exploring the only mouth that he would ever kiss again. That he would ever want to kiss again. Olivia ran her left hand through his hair and he revelled in the feeling of the cool metal of the band in it, despite it catching at his hairs lightly.
Olivia pulled back, kissing the side of his mouth, "Casey'll be here soon, and I gotta fix my make-up."
He nodded, his eyes still closed and nose rubbing against her lips, "And I have to call Maureen."
"She babysitting the twins?"
He smiled, "No, I just promised to call her when you said yes."
Olivia backed up towards the bathroom. "She was certainly sure of herself."
He shook his head, noticing that wearing his ring and the signs of being thoroughly kissed, she had never looked so beautiful.
"She's a Stabler, Liv. All my kids are like that."
Olivia chewed on her lip in thought. "Does that mean when I become a Stabler I automatically get a boost in my ego?"
"When you become a Stabler?"
He could scarcely believe how light-headed he was feeling; how happy his heart was.
Olivia winked, "Of course. I think I've officially outgrown my past," she paused at the doorway, "and I think the world definitely needs two Detective Stablers."
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To be continued? Let me know. R/R.