It's been about a week since he saw her last in person, bright-eyed over a quick morning cup of coffee at a little café outside the 1-6. She only had 30 minutes before she had to meet McGrath, so they split a cruller and caught up for a bit. And then when it was time to part ways, he watched her hesitate for a split second before she kissed his cheek, a murmured promise of dinner soon on her lips.

Elliot dreamt about her later that night, of his mouth buried between her thighs, her lips wrapped around his cock. He just wants to sink into her and never let go.

And he has really enjoyed this easy dynamic between them — this 'friends but a little more than that' thing they've got going on right now. But he craves so much more. More of her , her mouth on his skin, her flirtatious energy, the lingering notes of her vanilla and jasmine perfume. He hasn't been sleeping much lately — even worse after he'd apparently spilled his heart to Tia — because he just keeps thinking about her .

She's the only thing on his mind as he steps into a little sports bar in Alphabet City, shivering as he ducks out of the blustering city wind. He should've worn something heavier today, at the very least a knit cap for his bald head, but he's so used to running hot.

He's the last one of the joint OCCB-SVU crew to show up, the two teams jointly celebrating Rollins and Carisi's spontaneous nuptials along with Ayanna's promotion.

He squints his eyes under the dim lights and spots them in the back, Liv and Rollins sitting around a high-top table while Fin, Carisi, Jet, and Ayanna appear to be playing doubles at the pool table next to them.

"Hey, you made it," Liv greets him with a brief hug and a bright smile that makes him go weak in the knees. He's such a cliché when it comes to her.

"There you are, Stabler. I thought you were right behind me," Ayanna says, taking a sip of her beer.

"Sorry, got tied up. Eli called me, wanted to catch up." He nods hello to Rollins.

"How's he doing?" Liv asks, tilting her head curiously. And he knows she's genuinely asking because she loves his kid, maybe almost as much as he does, and he knows she worries about him. Maybe almost as much as he does.

"He's good." Elliot smiles, settling a hand down on her shoulder. He squeezes it gently. "He sends his love."

Olivia's deep brown eyes crinkle in response, pleased. "I'm really glad to hear that, Elliot." Her hand finds his on her shoulder, lingering for a long second before she lets it go.

"Can I get you another drink there, partner?" he asks, tipping his head down at her near-empty wine glass.

"Yeah, it's - "

"Cab sav?"

"Yeah," she replies softly, a little flushed, he's noticing now. "Need me to come with you?"

He shakes his head, shoots her a smile. "Stay here, relax a little. I got it." His hand reluctantly falls away from her and he's already thinking about how he can touch her again.

"So Rollins, I hear congratulations are in order," he says, settling down into a seat close enough to Olivia that he can drape his arm across the back of her chair. "How long have you and Carisi known each other?"

Amanda bites her lip in thought. "What year did he join SVU, Liv? Must've been 2014, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," Liv snorts, shaking her head. "He was a real piece of work back then."

Elliot chuckles. "Oh yeah? How so?"

"Real rough around the edges when he started," Liv replies, taking a sip of her wine. "I think we were his third SVU bureau in a month."

"The DA's office moved him around that much?" Elliot asks, surprised.

"Oh, he wasn't an ADA when he started," Rollins clarifies. "He went to night school for awhile when we were partners, and then he joined the DA's office a few years ago."

Elliot nearly chokes on his whiskey. "You were partners?"

Amanda smiles. "Yeah."

He looks over at Olivia, half expecting her to avoid his gaze, but instead finds a spark in her eye and a smirk behind her wine glass that he feels all the way down to his cock.

Fuck.

"Well," Elliot starts, swallowing roughly. "Sounds like it all worked out for the best."

Rollins' fond gaze drifts over to her newlywed husband. "Yeah, it did."

"Benson, Stabler, you guys up for a round of pool? Carisi and Jet are wimpin' out on us," Fin asks, and all of a sudden Elliot's transported back 20 years and they're just a foursome of detectives blowing off steam with booze and billiards after a long case.

"What do you say, partner?" Elliot asks, tipping his glass toward her.

Liv clinks her glass to his, mouth twitching as she leans in close, secretive. His eyes dart down to the play of her tongue over her lips, and he swallows roughly. "I say the good sergeants are goin' down, partner."

"You sure about this, Fin? You still owe me 20 bucks from the last time I wiped the floor with you," Liv teases, eyebrows raised and cocksure as she chalks her pool cue, hip propped against the pool table. She's a vision in heeled boots, a deep purple sweater, and a pair of blue jeans that cling to her like a second skin he wants to paint with his tongue.

He's clearly going to need another drink if he's going to keep up with her tonight.

"That was just an off night, Cap'n," Fin replies.

"Sure, it was." She smirks, giving him a little patronizing tap on his shoulder before she joins Elliot's side to watch Ayanna break.

Liv nods her head toward his sergeant. "She any good?"

But before he can answer, the balls scatter easily across the table as Ayanna sinks a solid.

Liv whistles, impressed. "Think I just answered my own question."

"She's a shark," Elliot confirms grimly.

"You didn't expect me to go easy on you, did you, Stabler?" Ayanna asks, bent over to take another shot.

"Oh, no need," Liv replies, a heat in her eyes as she looks up at him. "Elliot can take it."

Oh, she's really not playing fair tonight, is she?

"I'm gonna get another drink," he rasps, confirming to them, if anything, that he actually cannot take it.

After his second drink, he's a little buzzed, a little brazen. They're kicking their sergeants' asses and he has Fin's terrible playing to thank for that.

"How is it that you haven't gotten any better in 20 years?" Elliot asks after Fin scratches.

Liv suppresses a laugh, but Fin catches it anyway, glaring at her. "You too, Captain?"

"I'm so sorry," she chokes out on a laugh, losing her battle with it. Elliot can't stop staring at her tonight, and he knows he must be incredibly obvious, but he can't remember the last time he's seen her so free and… happy.

He's missed seeing her like this.

It's her turn next and she bends over to take the shot right in front of him, and he's almost positive it's on purpose because there's a ball at a much better angle on the other side of the table.

But regardless of whether it's purposeful, he can't stop the way his eyes flit to the round curve of her ass, to her necklace that dips low in her cleavage.

"Eyes up, my friend," Olivia says, low enough for his ears only.

"S-sorry," he stammers, a blazing heat working its way up his cheeks. Subtlety is not his specialty tonight.

She sinks another stripe then, grinning in victory before she straightens up. She turns around and takes a step toward him, her brown eyes dark on his as her teeth find her bottom lip. "Don't be."

Yeah, he might actually die tonight.

"How much wine have you had tonight?" he blurts out before he can think better about it. He braces himself, waits for her wrath, her eyeroll, her mind your own business, Stabler.

But Olivia just laughs, bright and open, her joy pinking her cheeks. "You think I need to be drunk to flirt with you, Stabler?" She cocks her head, her pool cue firmly planted into the floor next to her.

"You're flirting with me?" he asks dumbly. He doesn't know why he said that; she's been playing with him all night. But seeing this side of her with him, it -

Well… makes him stupid. What else is new?

She leans in, closing the short distance between them, and he can't help the way his body cants into hers, a reflex. Her hands curl around his biceps, scalding him through two layers of clothing. Her mouth lands just inches away from his ear, and he sucks in a breath, the heavenly scent of her climbing inside of him to warm his blood. "If you have to ask El, then maybe I'm not doing it right."

He suppresses a groan, but recovers quickly, determined to at least match her in her own game if he can't beat her. He dips his head, his voice gravel in her ear. "Oh, I think you're doin' just fine, Captain."

Elliot watches in triumph as her eyes slam shut and her throat bobs with a hard swallow. Fuck, he wonders if she'll let him take her home tonight. They haven't even kissed yet for Christ's sake, but she's gone from about 0 to 100 tonight, and he's not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

He doesn't know what's gotten into her, what's made her bold enough to be so open with him. If he was a betting man, he thinks it probably has something to do with Rollins and Carisi tying the knot. Maybe watching Amanda get everything she's ever wanted has made Liv shake some of the fear off. Ready to take the plunge.

He's not certain, but he's sure as hell gonna find out.

"Stabler!" Ayanna calls out impatiently. She's a little drunk now, and unlike Liv, her playing has greatly suffered because of it. "Can you quit flirting with Tia so she can take another shot?"

Shit.

Elliot freezes, watching Liv's face contort in confusion.

"Who the hell is Tia?" Fin asks, clearly not helping matters.

"A woman I worked with in Italy," Elliot replies tightly, grimacing.

"Sorry, Benson," Ayanna apologizes, slurring her words a little. She cocks her head in thought. "You two do look a lot alike, though. She could be your Italian doppelganger."

Olivia frowns, still mostly calm though, which surprises him. She turns her attention to Ayanna. "How do you know what she looks like?"

"Stabler didn't tell you?" Jesus Christ, Bell. "She was here for a few days working a case. Though if you ask me, she just wanted to get close to old Baldy here, if you know what I'm sayin'."

And it seems that unfortunately, Olivia does. She's turned away from him, but he doesn't need to see her face to know that if she was calm a second ago, she certainly isn't now. Her spine is stiff and her fingers have gone white-knuckled around her pool cue.

She's probably a little jealous, but he knows it's much deeper than that — it's yet another woman who's breezed into his life since he's been back.

Another woman who isn't her.

"Liv," he starts gently. "It wasn't like that - "

She whips around to face him and he was wrong because it's worse, so much worse. It's not anger written on her face; it's anguish, resignation. He sees the hope of them shatter in real time behind her eyes. "Yeah? It never is with you," she whispers.

Before he can squeeze in another word, she's shoving her pool cue into his chest and storming for the door. So blinded that she leaves her coat and her purse behind.

At least he knows she's not getting very far without them.

He turns to Ayanna. "Seriously?" Things between them have been strained ever since she told him she was getting promoted. And he knows he acted like an asshole about the whole thing, but he apologized. She took it in stride and forgave him, but things still haven't quite recovered yet. Now he's not sure if or when they will.

"I'm sorry," she apologizes sincerely.

He waves her off, doesn't have time to deal with her right now. He grabs Olivia's coat and purse and tosses a handful of twenties on the table, enough to cover at least both their drinks. He bids the rest of the crew good night and jogs out the door.

He finds her leaning against the building, arms crossed and shivering. He knows her, knows she's stubborn as hell and would rather stay out here and freeze her ass off than come back inside to retrieve her belongings she'd forgotten in her haste.

"You forgot these," he says thickly. She doesn't look his way as she snatches them out of his hands.

He sighs in frustration, scrubbing a hand down his face. "Let me take you home and I'll explain everything on the way."

She scoffs, shrugging into her coat. "You don't have to explain anything to me, Elliot," she replies, her tone clipped. "You're a free man, so you can do whatever — " she breaks off on a hollow laugh that cuts him in half, "or should I say whomever the hell you want."

"Don't do that, Olivia," he cuts in, a little angry now. "Don't dismiss this."

Liv spins around to face him head on now, incredulous. "Are you kidding me right now? All you have done for the last 25 goddamn years is dismiss this, Elliot."

She shakes her head, breaking her steely gaze to fish her phone out of her purse.

"What are you doing?"

"Ordering a cab," she snaps.

"Please don't." It comes out like a plea and it makes him wince, how desperate he sounds, but he feels it. Feels this precipice they're on. Like if he can't make her see now, then they're going to fall off. Again.

He doesn't think they can come back from another one.

She ignores him as she frowns down at her phone. He doesn't have to see her screen to know she's looking up the number for a cab company, and normally he'd laugh at how adorable it is that it's 2022 and she still refuses to use a rideshare app.

"Olivia, I love you."

He hates that he's telling her again at the most inopportune time and not because they're happy and in love, but fuck, he's desperate to get her attention.

And if the way her phone falls out of her hand and clatters to the pavement is any indication, it works.

She snatches it up off the ground and takes a furious step toward him, her curls flying behind her in the wind. "You son of a bitch," she hisses. "You think you can just say that to me whenever the hell you want to get out of a difficult conversation?"

"No," he spits. "My timing is shit, but I mean it every fucking time, Olivia. Every time."

She rolls her eyes, shoving her hands deep in her pockets. "Oh give me a break, Elliot."

"It's true," he insists.

"I don't care," she sneers.

He flinches as if she slapped him. "What?"

She looks victorious, like she wanted to hurt him. It worked. "You heard me."

His heart pounds loud in his ears. "You're lying."

"Am I?" she challenges, fire spitting out of her eyes. "God, I'm so fucking tired of this shit, Elliot." I'm tired of being second, third, fourth, fifth to you."

She pokes him hard in the chest. "I could live with being second to your wife. I would never ask you for anything else. But the Dani Becks, the Angela Wheatleys, the Flutu- or whatever the fuck her name was. The Italian doppelgangers," she mocks. "I deserve better than your bullshit and I'm done."

Olivia looks past him then before she looks down at her watch. "Forget the cab. It's still early, I'm taking the train home."

She moves to brush past him, but he grabs her arm, brings his mouth down to her ear so she really hears him. "None of them were you, Olivia. Do you hear me? No one fucking holds a candle to you." He sucks in a breath, bracing himself for the next words that spill out of his mouth. "Not even my wife."

Her eyes jolt to his, startled. "You don't mean that," she whispers, shaking her head in her refusal to acknowledge his truth.

"Yes, I do," he confirms, steadfast. "You're right, okay? You deserve so much better than me. In fact, I don't think there's a man or woman on this planet that can possibly deserve you."

He breaks off, losing his momentum as he watches her fight back tears. "But I love you. I love you so much I can't stand it sometimes." He takes a chance, curls his fingers into her hair as he leans his forehead into hers. She's stiff against him, but she lets him. "God Olivia, I just wanna crawl out of my goddamn skin because I don't know what to do with how I feel about you. I couldn't have you for so long that I just buried and buried it for 24 years."

"Elliot, please." Her voice cracks.

But he presses on. "Those women - " Elliot shakes his head. "No one ever came close. And I know you got no reason to believe me when everything I've done says otherwise, but you know me, Liv. You know me better than anyone. You . Not Kathy or Dani Beck or Angela Wheatley or Flutura or your Italian doppelganger - "

She lets out a watery chuckle.

"All I ever wanted was you. Christ, I had to fly halfway around the world and cut all ties with you just to give my marriage a fighting chance. I know I'm a selfish bastard for doing that to you when all I ever wanted was to love you the way you deserve."

She's crying now, quiet as the tears fall down her cheeks.

"Don't give up on me, on us," he begs. "I'm so sorry it took me so long to get my head out of my ass, but I'm ready now, Liv. Please just…" He lets out a shaky breath. "Let me love you."

It's quiet for a moment, the two of them unmoving, exchanging breaths as traffic continues to zip by them.

She sighs then, tired as she lets her body fall into his, burying her face into his neck. "Okay," she murmurs into his skin.

"Okay ?"

She just nods in response and he laughs a little, tugging her gently away from him so he can meet her eyes. "I give you the speech of my life and you give me okay ?" He's not mad, quite the opposite, finds her as amusing and endearing as ever.

She waves her hand in dismissal. "I just don't wanna talk anymore."

But for once, he can't read her, not her tone or her body language. He takes a step back. "Oh."

"No, you idiot. I just mean - " she rolls her eyes, growling in frustration. And then she looks at him, really looks at him as if she's trying to decide something.

And then -

She yanks him down to her mouth as she kisses him, warm and biting. Just a little bit punishing, he thinks. "God Elliot, don't you ever just fucking shut up?" she grouses.

"Shutting up, Captain," he pants against her mouth. She chuckles into his kiss, and the rumble of it against his mouth leaves a fire burning bright in his belly.

"You better take me home before we get arrested for public indecency," she moans, her nails digging into the skin at the nape of his neck.

He clutches her tighter to him, giving them another second to stay right here. "Copy that."

He takes her that night for the first time, naked in the glow of just the stovetop light, pressed against the wall because they just couldn't wait another second. She writhes against him, the most perfect thing he's ever seen.

"Tell me again," she gasps, her hands gripping his shoulders as her forehead meets his. "Tell me you want me."

"God, I want you so bad, Olivia," he grits out, clutching her hair tightly in his hand as he forces her to open his eyes. "Only you."

She comes for him.

You can find me on Twitter at OliviaJRoweee or on Tumblr at loveandprose.