Rating: this part T, some adult situations
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine, more's the pity...
Spoilers: Everything
Pairing: Elliot/Olivia forever
Summary: Please see previous chapters
A/N: Wishing a happy new year to the lovelies still reading! :)
1998
Elliot was already at his desk when she arrived early that morning. He watched as she shed her coat and scarf, as she shook the snowflakes from her hair. He waited for her to open her locker, secure her weapon and retrieve her yellow legal pad. He didn't open his mouth until she'd taken the seat opposite him. Then he broke the silence, saying in a voice that was both quiet and forthright:
"Found this on my desk." One finger was planted, pointing down at the folder she'd left for him. "Case file of Serena Benson. Raped, March 8th,1967."
Olivia nodded, tightly controlling her voice as she added, "Nine months before I was born." Her eyes fell to the file in front of him and her voice faltered as she went on. "I…didn't know how to— I thought you should know…why this last case," she lifted her head to meet his gaze, "it rattled me a bit."
Elliot's head gave a few slow bobs. "I could tell..."
Her cheeks flushed and head re-ducked. "Yeah..."
She hated that she'd allowed herself to get so rattled. She hated that she'd allowed him to see her so rattled. It made her feel weak, exposed. Unprofessional and uncontrolled. Especially in the face of his experience, his stability, his formidable control. She felt like she'd been trying to prove herself to him for months. She felt exhausted by the attempt. And she felt like she'd failed, that she'd proved his tacit misgivings about her right. That, even though they'd built a certain level of rapport and reliance, Elliot Stabler deserved a stronger partner than she could ever be. Her new partner surprised her though when he rose from his desk, moving around his to hers, approaching with caution and gently laying her mother's case file on her desktop.
Propping a thigh on a corner of her desk, he hunkered in close. And when he spoke again his voice was low and lenient. "I can see why."
Olivia inhaled, straightening her spine. "It's not gonna interfere," she assured him. "I'm here to work."
Elliot nodded. "Fair enough." But didn't retreat right away. "Thanks for telling me," he said in the same soft, intimate tone. "And if you ever need to talk…"
She nodded then scooted closer to her desk, giving him the cue that their conversation was concluded. Her partner withdrew, heading for the squadroom's kitchenette. Olivia sniffed, shook back her hair and placed her mother's file in a locked drawer. Elliot returned a minute later, silently placing a mug of hot tea on her desk blotter. It had taken awhile but he'd finally remembered that she preferred tea first thing in the morning, not coffee. That she liked the teabag left in to steep and only a token splash of milk.
Olivia looked up as he headed for his own desk, coffee in hand. "Elliot."
Elliot stopped and turned back.
"Don't…" she said, head shaking, "Don't tell the others. Okay?"
He nodded once. "You have my word."
-x-
2014
Olivia flashes her badge at the guards on duty then takes the elevator three floors up. Elliot's been working out of the One-Two, tying up the loose ends of the undercover mission she ruined while awaiting his long-term fate. She doesn't actually expect him to be there, she's hoping to just place the envelope on his desk and leave. It's their preferred way of communicating. Whenever they have something important to communicate, at least. That's why her heart stopped when she was handed that plain package containing his gold medallion and his two-word goodbye several months after his devastating departure.
Cowardly though it may be, her plan is to maintain that whisper-thin thread of unspoken communication that weaves back through their years together. When she enters the unfamiliar bullpen though, her old partner is stationed at a tiny, cluttered desk at the foot of a well-worn staircase. The desk has clearly been crammed into an inconvenient nook in order to accommodate him following his unforeseen release from prison. People keep bumping the back of his chair as they pass but Elliot doesn't notice. Nor does he look up as she approaches. His eyes are on a file, his sleeves rolled up, a pencil between his lips and a frown creasing his brow. She moves slowly but with purpose, coming to a stop at his desk. Then she places the envelope she holds on the dossier he's examining, interrupting his apparent absorption.
Elliot lifts his head, stares up at her a moment. Then he scoots his chair backwards, "Hey—"
"Open it," she says, holding his gaze.
He looks like he wants to say something but complies with her command instead. He picks up the envelope, tears it open and pours a key out onto his palm.
"I'll be home round eight," Olivia tells him.
His eyes return to hers, his fingers close around the key. "I'll be there."
-x-
2006
Arriving late on the Red Eye, she headed straight for the precinct, rather than home. She wasn't due to make an appearance but she wanted to see her partner, to check how he was getting on with his cold case. Her cab got stuck in traffic though and, by the time she arrived, Elliot was gone. Olivia was about to head out again when she noticed that her desk lamp had been left on, highlighting a small envelope in the center of her desk. She moved closer, dropped her bag to the floor. Then, standing at her desk in the deserted squadroom, she opened it. Inside was an address and a key. Olivia smiled and took a cab directly there.
The key stuck in the door but with a sharp shove from her shoulder, it allowed her entry. She wandered through the darkened apartment, taking in what she could see of the design and décor, or absence of. Heading down a squat hall to the only light still on, Olivia entered a bedroom with cracked and peeling walls to find her shirtless partner, propped up in bed with a book. A rusty old fan spun sluggishly in one corner as he flipped idly though the sunnily covered Divorce for Dummies. He'd just been killing time though, or so it seemed, because the book lowered onto his lap the second she appeared.
"You found the key?"
Olivia dropped her bag at the door and crawled across the bed to peck his lips. "I did."
"And you found the place." He shifted under the sheets, setting his book aside. "So what do you think of my new digs?"
She glanced about, pulling her rumpled shirt over her head. "Pretty grim, El."
Elliot smirked as he watched her disrobe. "Less grim now."
She sat on the edge of the bed to remove her boots, scrunching up each leg of her jeans, unzipping each boot then tossing it away with a satisfied sigh. Elliot budged closer, removing her gun and securing it with his in a shonky bedside drawer. His hands proceeded to her belt buckle while his lips dropped to her neck.
"How was L.A.?" he murmured against her skin.
"Hot," she replied, throwing away her second boot. She let him undo her belt and unzip her jeans, lifting her butt off the bed so he could push the sticky denim down her legs.
"What took so long?" he asked, sucking at her earlobe and watching her feet kick off the jeans.
She huffed tiredly. "There were…complications." Olivia turned to him with a smile, one leg folded flat on the bed. "Why? You miss me?"
Elliot smiled back and countered with, "You miss me?"
Neither query was answered because they both leaned in, initiating a deeper kiss than her opening peck. Without breaking it, Elliot peeled off her underwear and drew her body up onto the mattress. Olivia flung back the sheet and rid him of his briefs. Easing back on the new bed in his new apartment, his arms wound round her upper body while her legs wound round his lower body.
It was the first night they spent in his new apartment but the last they would spend together. It was the last time they'd make love for very a long time. The last time they'd sleep together and wake together. And the last time they wouldn't have to miss each other. The following morning, they caught Victor Gitano's case. In its aftermath, Olivia requested a new partner and a new assignment. Shortly afterwards, she disappeared undercover and the relationship they'd secretly maintained for more than a year was over.
-x-
2014
It's much later than eight when he lets himself in. Elliot leaves his wallet and keys on the bookcase, secures his weapon in the kitchen. Following the light down the corridor, he first ducks into Noah's room. Olivia's young son sleeps peacefully, stars of light gliding around his walls and the baby alien keeping watch from one corner of his crib. Elliot kisses two fingers and places them on the little boy's rising and falling chest. Then he sneaks next door.
Olivia is already in bed, curled on one side with her back to him. The lamps either side of the bed are still on but she's out cold, he can tell. One arm looks like it was propped beneath her head but has since collapsed under the weight of her exhaustion. The other lies over an abandoned book, its open pages turned face down into the bedding. Elliot smiles and creeps closer. She's reading Eat Pray Love ten years after the rest of the world did. He seems to recall her starting it three years ago, before he was forced into a jail cell and a new identity. At the rate she's going, she probably hasn't even left Italy yet.
He sheds his jacket and toes off one shoe. Toeing the other off, he unbuttons and discards his shirt. Elliot drops his pants, takes his socks off with them. Then he climbs into bed and scoots in close, pressing his front to her back and breathing her in. Olivia rouses but doesn't open her eyes, stroking his arms as they wrap around her. He kisses her ear, whispers in it:
"Sorry I took so long."
Olivia inhales deeply then replies on her exhale, "You're here now."
After several moments of breath and still, she rolls over to face him, eyes still closed and lax arms snaking round him. Behind her, Eat Pray Love slides silently to the floor. Olivia settles against him and Elliot shifts onto his back, taking her warm, weighty body with him.
He kisses her temple, smooths some hair out of her face. "Hey."
She takes a moment to answer. "…Hm…?"
His eyes skate around her new bedroom, taking in every detail, liking how his voice sounds within its brand new walls. "Gotta tell you something."
Olivia gives a throaty grumble. "Can't it wait 'til morning?"
"No." He places a series of kisses along her hairline. "It's very important."
"What?" she croaks, eyes still closed despite his coaxing.
Elliot runs a hand over her hair, fingertips combing through the ends of the dark strands. "I love your hair like this. Reminds me of when I met you."
Olivia smiles in her sleep. "I've got something to tell you too."
He smiles down at her. "What's that?"
From her snuggle against his chest, she tilts her head up, opening her eyes halfway. "You better shave that beard off or I'm never kissing you again."
"I'll do it first thing in the morning," he whispers before leaning in to kiss her.
Olivia allows the kiss but pulls back when he tries to deepen it, mumbling groggily about pash-rash. Elliot hesitates a moment then flings off the covers and heads for the bathroom in his briefs. Olivia props herself up on an elbow, blinking a few times as she asks:
"Where you going?"
Elliot flicks the bathroom light on then braces both hands against the door frame. "You better have one of those lady razors in here cos I'm doing it now. Then I'm coming back for my goodnight kiss."
"Just a goodnight kiss," she calls as he disappears into the bathroom, "or…?"
Her only answer is a chuckle and the sound of rummaging. She calls out again, telling him to check the second drawer. Then Olivia flops back in her new bed, back flat to the mattress and eyes staring at the ceiling. Her breath is even and deep as she listens to the faint hiss of the blade against his skin and the swish of it being rinsed in her sink. He finishes by using the toothbrush she purchased for him, returning to the bed with a fresh face and minty breath.
He crawls onto the bed, holds himself over her on all fours. "Better?"
She reaches up, stokes his face, his chin, her returned partner. "Much."
He leans down and kisses her, his lips soft and cool and unhurried.
Olivia still can't help whispering an uncertain, "El?"
He continues his kiss. "Mm?"
"Been thinking…." she murmurs, one hand descending his body.
"Don't," he sighs, resting his forehead against hers.
Her eyes rake over his closed eyes, his smooth jaw, his familiar, if aged, face. "This is all…such a mess, so many people involved." She swallows and voices the question that's been plaguing her for much longer than just that night. "What if…What if it doesn't work out?"
Elliot kisses her forehead, her nose, her lips. "What if it does?"
-x-
1999
Elliot poked his head inside Cragen's door. "You wanted to see me?"
Putting down his phone, Cragen rose and headed round his desk. "Just wanted to check how you're getting on with Benson."
Elliot glanced over his shoulder at his partner who stood by their desks, chatting with a delivery boy. He watched her flash the poor kid a smile, causing his face to turn beet-red. Elliot bobbed his head. "Ah, alright…yeah."
Cragen slid his hands into his pockets, contemplating the younger man. "Well, she hasn't requested a change of partner or precinct so that's definitely an improvement." He glanced over Elliot's shoulder at the squad's relative newbie. "Think it'll work out long-term?"
Elliot just shrugged. "Guess we'll have to wait and see."
Behind him, Olivia's voice called out over the constant clamor of the squadroom. "Elliot! Lunch."
He turned to see her unpacking a large brown paper bag, doling out boxes of salad and bags of bread and cans of soda, dividing them onto each of their desks. Elliot gave his captain a nod then returned to his desk and his partner and his lunch. Cragen wandered closer to the door, observing them from afar. He watched them bicker jokingly about who'd get the coke and who'd get the sprite. Then he watched them sit, passing fragments of food across their desktops. Apparently, they'd figured out that Elliot loved extra bacon bits in his salad while Olivia loved the thick-cut slices of cucumber.
Cragen couldn't help an inner surge of satisfaction. His instincts had served him well there, he'd done a good thing putting them together. A not uncomplicated thing – he could see that a mile off. So many years as an investigator meant he couldn't help but see it, even if he didn't want to, even if it felt like a slight invasion of his colleagues' privacy. But ultimately, he was convinced that, notwithstanding any personal complications, he'd done a good thing, created a solid partnership. One that would prove productive and prosperous. One that would serve the city, his unit and their victims with exceptional dedication and integrity. One that undoubtedly would last. And one that would prove pivotal to two people he was just beginning to view as the son and daughter he never had.
Returning to his desk, Cragen opened a drawer and took out a photo frame. Olivia had gifted him the photo to commemorate her first few months at SVU, to thank him for his support and faith. Cragen was not generally one for personal touches, not in his professional domain. But God knew, in their line of work, they all needed something to smile about. And the photo of him with Olivia and her new partner, both of them mock saluting him, made Cragen smile. He had already decided to re-gift the photo to her when one of them moved on – whenever he retired or she left the Special Victims Unit. Despite her partner's initial skepticism, Cragen believed that the latter eventuality was a long way off. Olivia had quickly become a staple of his department and absolutely indispensable to her partner. Since her arrival, her brilliant but often difficult counterpart had become more grounded, more consistent, more content. Cragen didn't doubt that Olivia Benson would be with them for a long while yet, steadily inhabiting the desk opposite Elliot Stabler's.
Placing the photo on his desktop, their captain smiled. He'd created many a partnership in his time. But each day he was becoming more convinced that Benson and Stabler would be his greatest success.
End of Part Five
To Be Concluded in the Epilogue...