A/N: Well, it's finally over! This is the epilogue, taking place aproximately 4-5 years after the last chapter ended. I just felt like the last chapter didn't have as happy of an ending as I wanted it to, and I also thought that after chapter 5, I had added enough angst. So here's a nice, fluffy, sickening last chapter to make up for it. Lyrics are from "Everything I Need" by Melissa Ferrick, which happens to also be where I got the title for this fic from.
Everything I need is right here... - Melissa Ferrick
Olivia unlocks the door to the apartment, shutting it quietly, and locks it again. She takes off her jacket and hangs up her now soaked umbrella before walking into the living room, where the TV is still playing loudly. She smiles, seeing Elliot sound asleep on the couch, snoring even louder than the re-run of I Love Lucy that's playing, the remote still in one hand, his cell phone in the other, just in case she calls him.
It's times like these when, despite the loud snoring and the dirty dishes he left on the coffee table, she remembers why she married him.
She reaches for the remote, turning off the TV, and lies down on the couch next to him, half on top of him as she presses a kiss to his neck.
He jerks, waking suddenly, then smiles when he feels her body shake slightly with laughter against his. "Hey, Gorgeous," he whispers, kissing the top of her head. "What time is it?"
"Almost 1:30." She closes her eyes, her head resting against his chest as he reaches one hand into the back pocket of her jeans to hold her closer. "I missed you." Despite the stress of the last few days, she suddenly feels safe and warm and happy just from lying with him on the couch. It kills her that as independent as she likes to think she is, something as simple as his touch can make everything in her life okay again.
"I missed you, too," he tells her, pulling her even closer as he gently rubs her back. "Did you guys close the case or did Don send you home?"
"We closed it," she says, tracing the letters on his Hudson University T-shirt with her index finger. "I don't..." she sighs, dropping her forehead to his shoulder. "I just want to forget about work for a few minutes. I know I need to talk about it, and I will, all you want, but not tonight."
He nods once, then changes the subject. "Did you get something to eat? I put a plate in the refrigerator for you."
"Thank you," she whispers against his neck, both for dinner and for not pressing her to talk. She starts to stand but he stops her.
"I'll get it," he says, slowly getting up off the couch.
"For once, I'm not going to argue with you about waiting on me," she says, yawning. She can't help but smile when he turns around quickly and holds his hand to her forehead for a moment, as if wondering if she's sick. She smacks his chest playfully and follows him into the kitchen. She sits on the counter next to the sink as he warms up a plate of chicken, green beans, and mashed potatoes in the microwave. "How was Trouble today?" she asks, looking down at the blue linoleum instead of at her husband of four years.
"Good," Elliot replies. "He was fine until I made him go to bed and then he told me he couldn't go to sleep until he got a hug and a kiss from you."
She smiles sadly, rubbing her hand over her face. "Is it wrong that I want to go wake him up and cuddle with him?"
Elliot forces her to look at him and sees that her eyes are suddenly filled with unshed tears. "Hey. What's the matter?"
"Nothing," she lies, forcing a small smile. "I've just hardly seen either of you this week."
"You're a horrible liar," Elliot tells her, leaning in to kiss her quickly before taking her dinner out of the microwave. He sets the plate on the counter next to her and hands her a fork. As he, too, sits on the counter with the plate between them, the sound of thunder fills the apartment. "You know, the storm will probably wake him up any minute and he'll be begging to sleep in our bed."
"I know." Olivia leans her head back against the cabinet and turns her face slightly to look at him. "I'm sorry I wasn't home to help put him to bed."
Elliot smiles sadly, reaching for her hand and caressing her palm with his thumb while he speaks. "We've talked about this. We both work, we both miss out on things sometimes. We do all we can, and if we miss putting him to bed once in a while...yeah, it sucks. But we do it the other six nights that week and it's not like it's going to make the difference between him dropping out of high school and going to Harvard."
"God, don't even remind me that he's going to be that old someday," she says, smiling sadly and squeezing his hand as a thank you for his reassurance. She hesitates for a moment, then finally just says it. "Don told me tonight that he's retiring at the end of April," she says, looking down at the floor again instead of at him. "He wants me to take the Lieutenant's exam and apply for his job. He said that as long as I score well he doesn't see why they wouldn't give me the job, even though I won't be a captain yet."
"I think he's right. You'd be great at it, Liv. The brass knows that."
She shrugs, eating the last of her mashed potatoes. "I don't even want to think about it yet. I don't know what I want to do."
"I think you should go for it," Elliot says, leaning in and kissing her. "You know I'll support whatever decision you make and so will Don, but I think you're crazy if you don't even try. You'd be able to be home more, you'd make more money, you'd be off the streets..."
"I know and I've thought about all that. But we both know how good I am at following orders. You think I'm going to be any better at giving them? And it's true I wouldn't be on the streets and I'd make more money, but I also wouldn't have Don there to cut me some slack if Mikey's sick or if I need to leave early. I wouldn't be able to work around things the way I do now. I'd have to be available at all times in case something came up."
"You know, Don doesn't have to be there nearly as much as he is," Elliot argues. "You would be home more, Olivia."
"I'm thinking about it," she says, forcing a smile and squeezing his hand. "Can you believe he's retiring? I didn't think he ever would."
"Did he say what he's going to do with all his free time?"
"He wants to apply to be your son's nanny," Olivia says with a grin. "Mikey would love it."
"Yes, he would," Elliot laughs. "I think Don spoils him more than you do."
"I don't think that's possible," Olivia laughs, leaning against him.
"Liv, seriously," Elliot whispers, kissing her temple as he moves closer to her. "What's going on? I know this is bugging you, but it's more than that and the case. You've been distracted all week."
"Just...everything," she says after a moment, shaking her head. "I've been working so much lately that I hardly ever see you and Mikey anymore and this case just crawled under my skin and hasn't left for days. Then Don giving me this to think about and…" she trails off, unable to find the words to tell him. After a moment, she looks up at him. "I kept something from you. And it's not - I didn't..." she groans, massaging her forehead with her palm. "I just couldn't deal with it yet and so I kept it from you and-"
"Liv, just tell me," Elliot says, raising an eyebrow. "I promise I'll keep my temper under control."
She can't help but smile at his words. "Now, we both know that is unlikely to happen." She leans her head back against the cupboard again and closes her eyes. "I was late," she says, turning her head slightly to look him in the eye. "Five days. Five fucking days."
Elliot's eyes widen and his mouth opens for a moment, trying to figure out what to say. Finally, he asks her. "Was or are?" He doesn't wait for her response. "Are you… Do you think you might be pregnant?"
"I thought so, but I got my period finally," she says, looking across the room at the refrigerator, where pictures their son and his finger paintings cover the surface. "I didn't even think anything of it at first. And I should have told you, I know that, but I didn't want to have to deal with this yet and I figured you'd want me to take the test immediately. I needed a day or two to just let the possibility sink in before I took it."
He nods, kicking her sneaker softly with his white sock-covered foot. "Okay. I'm not mad."
"Really?" She had thought he'd be furious that she didn't tell him the moment the possibility crossed her mind.
"Really," he says with a smile as he looks over at her. "I can respect that. I'm still not happy that you didn't tell me, but I understand." He shrugs. "Are you..." he sighs, unsure of how to ask the question. "Are you glad you're not? Or do you want-"
"If you so much as think about asking me if I want another kid, I'm going to call the doctor's office right now and make you an appointment to have a vasectomy, Elliot Michael Stabler."
He smirks. "Okay. Point taken."
She's silent for a moment, then looks at him again, her eyes filling once more. "I thought I'd be happy, you know? The past three days... I was praying to whoever might be listening to me that it was something else, that I wasn't pregnant. We are not in the right place to have another kid. And when I realized I wouldn't get to put Mikey to bed for the fourth time this week, God, I was so pissed off that I might be pregnant. Because what about Mikey?" Her voice starts to crack as she talks and Elliot resists the urge to put his arms around her. "What about the fact that I don't get to spend enough time with him already? How is it fair to have another baby and spend even less time with him? It's not, you know? And I know that. But then I got my period and I..." she shakes her head, swallowing hard. "God, I am the worst mother ever. How can I even think about having another baby when it would just take us away from him even more?"
"Olivia, that does not make you a bad mother," Elliot argues, shaking his head. "How can you even think that? You are an amazing mother, and wanting, deep down, to have another child doesn't change that and it sure as hell doesn't make you selfish."
She shrugs, resting her head against his shoulder. "We're not having another kid, Elliot. I don't want to, and I don't care how okay with the idea as you are right now, I guarantee that you would see the reality of it the way I do. But. All of that doesn't mean I'm excited about not being pregnant."
He nods, kissing her softly. "If you ever change your mind-"
"You just want to have as much sex as we had when we were trying to get me pregnant with Mikey," she laughs. "But no. I'm forty-three, El, and you're almost forty-five. Another baby at our age? I might not be completely sane after all these years with you, but I'm not that crazy."
He can't help but crack a smile as he gets down from the counter and pours himself a glass of water. "You sure you're okay?" he asks, taking a sip.
"Yeah. I'm just exhausted and emotionally drained. This case… God, I don't even want to go there, and then worrying all week that I was pregnant, and of course, Don has to tell me tonight, of all nights, about his retirement. I just feel like I'm on overload at the moment."
"Did he give you tomorrow off?" Elliot asks, coming to stand between her legs.
She nods. "I was told that if he so much as sees my face in the precinct before Monday, I'm fired." Elliot grins. "I think he was exaggerating, though. Just a thought."
"Well, how about… I call in tomorrow? We can sleep in and make breakfast together and watch movies with Mikey all day. And you and I can sit down and figure out this promotion stuff together. Figure out what makes sense. Sound like a plan?"
"I like the sound of that," she says, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close. "Have I told you today how much I love you?" she asks after a moment, pulling back slightly to kiss him.
"Hmmm," he says, pretending to think. Another loud clap of thunder fills the apartment and Olivia knows it's only a matter of moments before Mikey's awake. "I think you could probably tell me again. My ego could always use a boost."
As if on cue, the moment she opens her mouth, she hears a cry coming from the other side of their apartment, and a few moments later, a terrified sounding voice calling for Mommy and Daddy.
"We're in the kitchen, baby," she calls, smiling when he runs into the kitchen, dragging the teddy bear Casey gave him when he was born along with him. "What are you doing awake?" she asks, unable to keep the grin off her face now that her son is close.
"Loud," he answers simply, reaching up with both arms, wanting to get as close to his mother as possible. She reaches down, picking him up and holding him close to her, his arms wrapped around her neck and his legs wrapped around her waist. "I sweep wid you an' daddy," he says, his voice giving away the fact that he is still half-asleep. His thumb returns to his mouth and she can feel his soft breathing against her neck as he hides his face against her. "'Kay, Mommy?"
"We'll talk about it," she says, already knowing that she'll give in. "El, what do you think?" From the look in his wife's eyes, he already knows that he's supposed to tell Mikey of course you can, despite his claim earlier in the week that Big Boys needed to sleep in their own beds every night, even if the "monshters" claimed they weren't afraid of Daddy's badge.
"Pweeeeeeeeeese, Daddy?" Mikey asks, turning his head to look at him, still resting against Olivia's shoulder. His bottom lip sticks out in his father's direction. Even at three, he knows exactly who needs convincing in every situation and how best to do it.
Elliot looks at Olivia and raises his eyebrow, shrugging. "You're the one who just got done telling me how exhausted you are. Do you really want little elbows and knees poking you in the side all night long?"
She shrugs, pressing a kiss to the top of her son's head as his breathing steadies and he starts to drift back to sleep against her. "Who needs sleep?" she jokes, reaching for his hand and squeezing it tightly as she continues to rub circles on Mikey's back. "I've already got everything I need."
The End.