The sheets were wrapped conveniently around both of them, his just above the dip of his waist, hers caught underneath her arms so that anatomical parts unsaid were hidden, but he smirked and gave a small snicker so as not to wake her, fully aware of what lay beneath. He reached up and delicately, a word so rarely used to describe him, brushed away a strand of hair that had fallen into her closed eyes. She was out like a light but it wasn't as if he could blame her; after the night they had, he had crashed almost simultaneously with her. He balanced on one hand, head perched on his palm, savoring the moment he actually got to watch her sleep, uninterrupted and through the night for once.

But he supposed this might have been influenced by the fact that she had been in his arms the entire time.

He moved carefully as he got up from the bed so as not to wake her, hoping to get a jump start on the morning before she did awake from her slumber. He silently thanked the gods above that they both had today off.

He stumbled into the kitchen still groggily, turning the coffee pot on silent to brew. He was absentmindedly peeling back the skin of the banana because all his mind could think about was Olivia. Everything that had occurred the night before had been better than he had imagined; his dreams had been fulfilled. It had not just been about sex; it had been about making love. The way her lips melded with his in unison, the way her flesh felt against his in such a palpable state, the way the noises she made gave him the chills, the way his name just rolled off her tongue as she yelled it from the pleasure he was giving her, the way she had held onto him as she rode out the final storm and the way she fell asleep against him with her body flush against his, still heated from what they had just experienced.

When he finally had a steaming cup of coffee gripped tightly between his chilled fingers, he relished in the warmth it was giving off and made his way back to the bedroom. But the coffee's warmth paled in comparison to that of Olivia. He could see the look on her face as he arrived and he just knew.

His shoulders slumped as he spotted the utter relief in her eyes. "You thought I left?"

"Of course not. I was just - "

"You are a very bad liar, Olivia," Elliot scolded, reluctantly handing the heated cup over to her. "And a thief at that."

She glanced down to her legs which were now occupied by his boxers and then back up to where his NYPD shirt hung loosely over her and let out a soft chuckle at her wardrobe. "I seem to have misplaced my own clothes."

"Olivia," Elliot said as she took a long swig of the caffeinated beverage, her eyes focused on the liquid inside instead of him. "I am not going anywhere."

"You are the first man to actually stay the night and not leave me wondering the next morning, the only thing missing the money on the bedside stand," Olivia said, shrugging her shoulders half-heartedly as she fiddled with a lose thread on the comforter. "This will take some getting used to because this isn't what I know. I expect it from you because it's who you are but it doesn't mean I know how to handle it any better."

"You are not a whore," Elliot clarified in an angry tone. "Nor should you ever think that is what you deserve in any capacity."

"I don't deserve you."

Her eyes finally found his and he saw the struggle she was grappling with. He understood from day one that she was not the typical woman that most men had come to find; she was complicated, with issues and flaws that could fill a book, those of which would scare anyone off who didn't realize the extraordinary woman that lay beneath the hardship. He loved her for reasons many did not. A child of rape, the lack of a stable family, her inability to trust anyone she might fear would damage her. She saw these as reasons to turn away but they were reasons to love her more. He always knew that it was difficult for her to trust and even more so to love.

"I told Taylor one day that you deserve far more than you have been given," Elliot began as he recalled the memory, and he swallowed heavily but his heartfelt confession made its way to the surface despite his efforts to keep it bottled inside. "He asked if I wanted to be the person to give that to you and I told him that I didn't know how to be what you deserve. But I'll be damned if I let you get away without at least trying. Because that's what I want, what I have always wanted, is to be what you deserve. I know that this is complicated beyond belief and we are both so damn complicated but tell me you feel the same way and I promise you that I won't hurt you and I will give you what you deserve. Tell me, Olivia, because I need to know."

Olivia kept staring at him with that look that could melt him to a puddle on the ground. She approached him from her position, interlocking her fingers with his and studying them with intent. She noticed his blue eyes watching her, but this wasn't as benign as a simple observation. She gripped his fingers even tighter than before and pressed her lips softly to his. "I'm not entirely certain what this is but I do know that I want to have you, if you'll have me," Olivia whispered as she let go of his hands to hold onto his waist. "I think this might be love, Elliot Stabler."

"That's good, Olivia Benson," Elliot smiled instinctively against her lips at her words. "Because I think this might be love too."

AN: I am fairly certain that the next chapter will be the last, as much as it pains me to say. But this story has run its course, a very good course at that and I think it's time I wrap it up. So stay tuned for the next chapter, for it will end this journey...