Chapter 2
Elliot drove through Queens, his mind still rank with the day's cases. A muscle in his shoulder was jumping uncomfortably, and he had to admit to himself that tackling that jackass in court today had probably not been his most brilliant idea. He had just been so "on edge". Ever since that moment in the Immigration office when everything had went ape shit he had been on edge. He could still feel Liv tensing behind him. He hadn't been able to look at her for more than a second, but the sheer size of her eyes had implied the "What the fuck?" thoughts screaming through her brain.
Wait a minute, he thought. Why the hell did he feel guilty over this. He was separated. Kathy had dated. Hell, Kathy had dated enough that he had even questioned the paternity of his own child. He'd still be questioning it if the damn car accident hadn't thrown everything out of whack.
Ugh, the car accident. There should seriously be some sort of limit on the personal chaos that SVU detectives had to deal with. The car accident, the baby, almost being blinded by that prick Picard, readjusting to life with Kathy, and his beautiful/smart/tough/bad ass best friend who also happened to be his partner in his professional life.
But back to the guilt. If he was going to be completely honest with himself (though seriously, after all the aforementioned chaos this would be an excellent time to keep lying) he didn't feel guilty when he thought of Kathy. He felt guilty when he thought of the wigged out look Olivia had in her eyes in the brief second he had made himself look at her.
That in itself was enough to make him want to go back to the squadroom and furiously fill out paperwork until he forgot. The darn woman had wormed her way so far into his skin over the past nine years that sometimes he wasn't sure where he ended and she began. The night his son was born he had been so detached that it hadn't hit him that he almost lost her until he saw her standing outside of Kathy's hospital room. His stomach dropped even as he smiled and walked towards her. He doesn't even remember what they said to each other, just that all the sudden it hadn't been enough to convince him that she was really ok. And so he grabbed her and held on, needing to feel her breath and squeeze her to make sure she wasn't hurt. And then he had closed his eyes. Big mistake. Eye closing plus long drawn out hug (alright, blast it, he freaking HELD her) equals very non-plutonic contact. And anything more than plutonic in regards to Olivia was something he had been avoiding, tamping out, and ignoring for years.
"Which" he says out loud, "I will continue to do. Because I have a wife again. And Olivia is my partner. And she is a better shot than I am."
But then the realities of this last case slammed back into his mind. Why on earth the man had had to love multiple women and marry them in the years preceding now, Elliot would never know. Couldn't he have done this polygamous stuff after he and Elliot's acquaintance was over? Honestly, Elliot thought. Nothing like watching another man acknowledge his love for multiple woman to make Elliot want answers. And so he had asked. And contemplated. And still, he did not understand why he so badly needed to know that there were answers out there to his questions on this case. He wasn't polygamous. He only loved one woman in that way. One. She has blond hair and brown eyes and…..wait. Blue. Kathy has blue eyes. Blast.
He pulled into his driveway in Queens and cut the engine. He sat for a few moments, as he did every night that he came home, and tried to cleanse himself of the days evils. As he got out, wincing because he was not thinking about the privilege of being home with his wife, but the duty of being home with his wife, his shoulder muscle started jumping again. This time he ignored the inner voice that said "tackling large suspects in you're early forties is a big no". He knew that the voice was only wishful thinking. The real cause of his ticking shoulder muscle had nothing to do with landing a 200 pound man on a tile floor, and everything to do with a pair of huge brown eyes popping out at him in a little office in the immigration building.