The first time he said it, it was early on in their partnership, when they had already fallen into sync with one another, but it was still easy between them. Not yet even close to the complicated it would become later. Olivia doesn't remember the case they were working at the time, but that it was a tough one. She'd run out to a corner bodega late at night and filled up with snacks while he made another pot of coffee. When she'd come back, she plopped down all his favorites on his desk for the first time, all correctly without having to ask.

Elliot smiled so brightly it reached his eyes, and said, "Marry me, Benson."

She laughed. "You already are."

"Yeah, but the home wife has me cutting back on sugar, while the work wife knows that's exactly what I need right now."

And they both moved on like it was nothing, back to the case, back to the grind.

A whole lot of those complicated years passed, along with 10 silent ones, and a few more since Kathy died before it came up a second time. Not nearly as off handed or straightforward, but implied. They'd been meeting for coffee, or a drink after work occasionally, trying to be 'friends' again. Though Olivia could sense it wasn't enough for him, he'd been holding back for her sake.

"Come out on a real date with me, Liv." He said it quietly, in the middle of a hotdog stand lunch one day outside her precinct. "I'm not asking you to marry me, it's just a date. Let's have dinner."

She remembers taking in a sharp breath at that. Because as much as he was downplaying it in that moment, it really was going to be the start of something. He knew that. They both did. And if they start, finally start, then it will inevitably lead somewhere. Back then, she couldn't decide if they had better odds of landing at an altar or in one of them moving thousands of miles away again. This time permanently.

Her hands were shaking, but she decided to be brave anyway. "OK," she said. Nodding her head and looking up to find him feigning being shocked.

"Wow."

"Shut up," she said, but then chuckled. Because yeah, he wasn't the only one a little surprised that she'd actually agreed to this, and at least the teasing was helping with her nervousness all of the sudden.

"Just thought I'd have to fight you a little more, that's all."

"Watch it, El, or I'll take it back."

"Can't," he shrugged and stood up, offering his hand for her to take.

She thought 'This is all too easy. This should all be harder.'

Elliot added, "I'll pick you up at 7 on Friday?" She squeezed his hand as a yes. Then called the babysitter the moment she was back in her office.

The third time he said it, it was in the middle of sex. They were many months into a relationship they still hadn't put a label on, and found themselves alone for the night, so they were taking their time, savoring each other. He was kissing his way down her body, whispering the things he always whispers these days, "So beautiful" and "I love you" and suddenly she heard a new one. Something she wasn't even sure he realized he said against her skin amid his adoration of her: "Marry me, baby." She tensed, but he hadn't noticed, he was so entirely focused on spreading her legs and settling between them, kissing her thighs, and lowering his mouth to her clit. And then she forgot about it, and everything else in the world, but what he was doing with his tongue.

The fourth time he said it, it came out in the middle of an argument. Ostensibly, it was a fight about which one was supposed to pick up the dry cleaning today and didn't, and how Olivia was having to dig into the depths of her closet to find a clean blouse that fit to wear to a meeting tomorrow at 1PP. But it was actually one of those fights born of nothing but frustration on both their parts. Where stress-inducing work meetings, annoying eyerolling kids who procrastinated their homework, dishes piling up in the sink, and now this, were all just adding up too much.

"I swear you said that you'd get it during your lunch break."

Olivia rolled her eyes at that, because damn it if the entire household tonight isn't rolling their eyes and fuming. "Yeah, sure," dripping with sarcasm, "Because I so often actually get to have a lunch break."

"OK, OK, sorry." He said but didn't sound it in the least. "I'll get it tomorrow. Jesus, Liv."

"What?!" Olivia practically hissed at him, when inward all she really wanted was his arms around her making her feel better. Why wasn't she just saying that?

"You're biting my head off over dry cleaning." Elliot's voice is dangerously low. "Good thing we're not married."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that I see what you're doing, Liv." He shook his head. Then it became a fight for real, over actual stuff. "I've watched you with guys, and I know what you do, it begins to get serious and deep. So, you start adding things up like this, like a pile of little excuses to use. Makes it easier for you when you decide you're done."

Oh and isn't that just a little too rich coming from him. "I'm not the one who fucking left for 10 years."

"Are you ever going to stop bringing that up every time I point out one of your flaws, ones that I know a little too well?"

She ignores that, still trying to go for the jugular. "And maybe the reason we're not married is because you've never asked."

He roars now. "I've never asked because I already know your answer!"

"Do you?' she asks inside her head, in a small voice that honestly does not know the answer herself. But what came out of her mouth instead was, "You know what, never mind," pure ice in her tone and her veins. "I'm going to bed."

Elliot turned on his heel and stormed out of her bedroom. She'd thought at the time that he might storm right out of her apartment all the way back to Queens, or Italy. But he didn't. He sat out on her couch watching some kind of sports with the TV volume low, and drank a couple of beers, and then came into her bedroom in the very early morning, slipped in beside her, thinking that she was sound asleep.

Elliot hasn't said it a fifth time. He hasn't said much at all, besides a mumbled "I'm sorry," the next morning over coffee and cereal in the kitchen, an "I'll call you later," after he dressed and left her and Noah for work. Then, not even any words spoken aloud but rather a scribbled note pinned to the dry cleaning that she found in her office mid-afternoon. She'd just returned from the meeting to find it. Fin supplying what she'd already worked out in her head.

"Stabler swung by about an hour ago to drop it off. Said to tell you he couldn't stick around to say Hi."