He didn't get through the front door before he saw her. Kathy was coming down the last three stairs with his gym bag strapped over her shoulder. The obvious weight of it, as well as her pregnant belly, caused her to carry it awkwardly, turning her body and lifting her right side in an effort to balance herself. She breathed heavily as she let it drop to the wooden floor with a light "thud". Then she sat on the second to last step and looked up at him without saying a word.
He stared at her, willing her to continue the conversation she'd started upstairs. When it was apparent she was game to stare him down, he turned his attention to the orange bag.
"So what's this? We're not even going to talk about it before you throw me out?"
"They're my things in there, not yours."
"Are we going to pretend nothing has happened as you leave me?"
"I'm not leaving you. And we will talk. But I know that when we're done, you're not going to want me here anymore."
"Why don't you let me decide how I feel?" Noticing his tone was turning angry, Elliot tried to suspend his emotions. He knew Kathy was already on edge and ready to bolt without even discussing her so-called confession. He had to keep himself in check. Help her feel that she could trust him with whatever had been bothering her for the past few weeks. Squeezing the back of his neck with his hand, he looked up and sighed, as if summoning divine intervention. This cannot be happening, God. Please don't let this happen. That baby is mine.
Taking a deep breath, he kneeled to Kathy's level and took her hands in his. She concentrated on keeping her eyes fixed downward. Away from his baby blue eyes and instead on her wedding ring, which turned out to be just as accusing.
"I've tried to give you the space that you need. But I'm tired, Kath. Worn down. So now I need something from you."
She looked at him finally, curious what he would ask for.
"I need you to trust me. I need you to tell me the truth." Gently tugging at her arms, he assisted her to a standing position and guided her to the couch. They sat there, at the bay window. Her at one end, as far pressed against the back of the couch as possible, and he in the middle cushion. Far enough away that he felt she could open up but close enough to encourage her to do so.
"What you said upstairs…it wasn't true was it?"
Kathy turned her face to the window. The sun was shining outside, but she could still see her reflection in the glass. What she saw disgusted her.
"I can't handle lying to you anymore, Elliot. I thought I could, for the sake of our family, but it's killing me, I think."
"Lying about what?"
"The baby." Making eye contact that was fierce in its admission and determined to see it through, she said it again, which proved to be even more painful for Elliot to hear than the first time. "I lied about the baby."
Standing up from frustration, Elliot spoke with his arms extended, waving wildly with each word he spoke. "What are you saying? That she's not mine? I don't believe you—we made love!"
"We didn't make love, Elliot. We had sex. There's a big difference." Stepping towards him in an effort to calm him from his rampage, she closed her eyes and pleaded, "Let me explain—you've got it all wrong—"
Elliot would have none of it. He put distance between them, seemingly repulsed by the very suggestion that this baby girl he'd fallen in love with might not be his. Kathy granted him his distance, knowing that he was about to implode with disbelief. "Whatever you want to call that night, it doesn't matter. What does matter is that the timing makes sense! I—"
Turning his back to Kathy, who had thought it best if she stayed on the couch, he walked over to the fireplace and reached his hands up to the mantle, as he choked out, "I already love her…" Hanging his head, he remembered the night he'd come home simply to check on the kids. Kathy had looked at him in that way. The way she'd looked in high school. Lonely. Innocent. Needing. And he'd needed someone that night, too. Anyone. So when she'd invited him in, he'd gone to her, telling himself that this was something they both needed just once, and then it would be over. They'd be okay with it because it one last thing they could do for each other before they finally went separate ways. But ever since Kathy had told him she was pregnant, he'd felt it. Felt the connection with that baby and never wondered for even a second if Kathy had slept with any other man during their separation. But then he remembered Dani. Remembered how at that time in his life he'd wanted to be with someone, how lonely he had been during that time Olivia had been gone. It had never occurred to him that maybe Kathy had had those feelings, too.
Keeping his position at the mantle, he asked her in a low voice, "If she's not mine, then who else? Who else could be her father?"
Curious how she'd suddenly become the stable one in this conversation, Kathy spoke firmly, but with caution. "You're putting words into my mouth. If you'll be quiet for one minute, I'll explain because you've grossly misunderstood me, Elliot. Now if you're finished jumping to conclusions—"
"I can't believe you slept with someone while we were married. Didn't you?" He said it more to convince himself than as a question to her. He was incredulous. Livid.
Taken back with his accusations and direct questions, she was furious at his hypocrisy and no longer cared to explain herself or her statement from the bedroom. "Why does it matter? It was long before that night you came over. I know it was wrong and I've lived with the guilt," Kathy said heatedly, but then grew quiet and small. She stood and tried to make him understand. "But you've done wrong, too, Elliot. What about your partner?"
Turning to her, his face had become defensive, not for himself, but for Olivia. "How many times do we have to go through this? I have never been with Olivia. She's my partner and friend, nothing more. When are you going to let that go?"
"Elliot," Kathy touched his arm. "First of all, I wasn't talking about Olivia. I was talking about the other one. The Stunner."
Kathy felt some tension leave Elliot's muscles under her fingers as he realized who she meant. She also saw his eyes reveal that she was right. So he had been the tall blonde outside of work. She'd never really known until now, and while it stung, she knew she couldn't judge him, just as he had no right to judge her. She continued, "Secondly, you and I both know that you and Olivia are much more than friends."
He opened his mouth to stop her, but she interrupted him, sensing his rebuttal. "Don't bother denying it. To be honest, I think I've known longer than you have. And I know you have never acted upon your feelings for her, and I appreciate that. But don't you think it's time we both stopping living our lives for each other when we're not what the other really wants?"
"You don't want…?" Confused, and perhaps a bit hurt, Elliot softly pulled his arms from Kathy's grasp and sat on the couch.
"Elliot, I love you. And I know you love me. But, yes, I don't want you. Our love is the kind of love born out of living over twenty years together. We love each other out of mutual admiration and respect. We love out of gratitude for the beautiful children we have given each other and helped one another raise."
Seeing Elliot's expression soften, she pressed him to admit she was right. "Am I wrong in how I thought you felt?"
Elliot locked eyes with her and did his damnedest to deny it. But the charade was over. He had run out of energy to continue the fallacy. He simply hung his head down as he shook it in agreement.
Then he realized how off-track they had gotten from the origin of this conversation and the pit in his stomach grew tenfold.
"Up in the bedroom—if you know I'm the father, then why did you say you'd lied about the baby?"
Now it was Kathy's turn to look away in shame. The guilt in her face was so strong and painful, Elliot wanted to wrap his arms around the mother of his children and reassure her it was going to be alright. That he'd always be there for her, no matter what kind of relationship they had.
"I…What I meant was…" Seeing his eyes so intent on her words humbled the hell out of her. She dropped to her knees in front of him, already asking for his forgiveness. She rested her head on his lap as she tried to hold in the tears. She couldn't. "That night you came home, I watched you open the bedroom door to check on Lizzie and Kathleen. I saw the man I married. The man who wanted a family, even if it had come earlier than he'd planned. I saw the man who always took care of us." She choked on a sob.
"Go on," Elliot encouraged, after letting her cry for several minutes.
"It had been so long since anyone had taken care of me. All those years taking care of the kids at home, with you working long hours. I thought I'd might as well be single—I never saw my husband anyway. So I left you. But even with your hellish job, I never realized how much you truly did for us. I didn't realize how hard it would be to do it all on my own. Having a job full-time, being a single parent. I was tired of it. Elliot, I am so sorry! I am so ashamed of myself. I've never been so selfish!"
"Shh," Elliot stroked her hair. He hated seeing her like this. She was a good woman, a good person. "Kathy, you're one of the least selfish people I know. But I still don't understand."
"Then I'd heard Olivia had left and I found myself wondering if maybe then, we'd have a fighting chance. Maybe if her being gone would make your job less important to you, then maybe we could make it work. Maybe we wouldn't have to be alone anymore." Shuddering with a hard breath, she said, "Then, of course, you had your new partner, and I didn't want to interfere if you'd found someone that made you happy. And then Olivia…she came home, and I figured I'd blown my chance to win you back. But then I could tell things were different between the two of you. That you weren't as close. I want you to know I didn't plan this in advance, but when I saw my opportunity—"
"Plan what? What are you talking about?"
"The night you came to see the kids, while you were checking on them, it occurred to me that I was at a point in my cycle when I should have been ovulating. I knew the chances were good that if I could get you to stay, then…"
The light came on then and Elliot knew what she was trying to tell him. She'd seduced him. She wasn't just innocently lonely. She didn't see it as a one-night stand. She saw it as part of a plan.
"You wanted to get pregnant. You knew you could get pregnant," Elliot stilled, no longer touching her hair. His hands lay limp on either side of his legs.
Kathy lifted her head, still crying. "I didn't want to be alone anymore. And you never seemed happy alone, either, so I thought…Like I said, it wasn't premeditated or anything. But I realized the only way you were going to come back home was if there was a reason greater than ourselves. I thought if I could just get you to come home, then you'd remember the good times we'd had together and you'd change and stay because you wanted to, not because…El, I knew you'd do the honorable thing. I knew…"
"You manipulated me," Elliot nudged her so she no longer touched his legs. "You used me."
Sobbing into her hands, all Kathy could do was nod. He could hear her mumbling over and over, "I'm sorry, Elliot. I'm so sorry."
Desperately trying to keep control of his anger, his hands balled and flexed in a frantic pattern. "So tell me…when did you have your great change of heart? When did your conscience reappear? When did you suddenly decide your plan may not have been such a great idea?" He didn't even look her direction. He focused his eyes on the striped valance above the bay window.
"I felt guilty as soon as I left the station after asking you to come home. But it was after you'd actually moved back in that the guilt began to be unbearable. Especially because I could tell you were still so unhappy. And even though it took a long time to admit it to myself, I was still unhappy, too. I thought… I thought we'd have a fresh start. I didn't expect us to fight as much still. But then I talked to Father Bennion and he helped me realize that by getting pregnant, I didn't make our old problems disappear. Instead, I just added on another one."
So that's why Father Bennion kept pressing me to talk to Kathy, Elliot realized. It all made sense now. The good priest had a husband and wife complaining to him about the same problems and he knew that the only solution would be if they started talking to each other rather than to him. Elliot had to give Father Bennion credit—he was a wonderful priest, but an even better friend. He was loyal to The Church and agreed that divorce was a sin, but man enough to be able to see when the greater sin could come from staying in a marriage that was built on lies and was destructive to the souls of the parties entered in. Originally, Elliot had been confused when it seemed Father Bennion was almost encouraging him to end his marriage and pursue what would make him truly happy. But now he understood.
He was angry at Kathy for lying, for using him. But regardless of what her motives may have been, that night he had been a willing party and had taken just as much risk as she did towards getting pregnant. The only difference between them was he wasn't responsible enough to give it a second thought and she was lonely enough to hope for it. He could not hold her any more responsible for that new life than he was willing to hold himself.
Bending down and embracing her, they both cried for a long time. Finally, she dared to look at his face, and what she saw was absolution. His eyes told her she needn't feel guilty anymore. That he'd forgiven her of any wrong doing, just as he'd try to forgive himself.
They sat there, huddled together, sitting on the floor against the couch.
"So what now?" Elliot asked. "Could we be any more messed up?"
"I don't suppose so," Kathy said, trying to smile.
"I still want to be a part of her life," Elliot glanced at Kathy's round belly.
"You are her father, Elliot. She's yours just as much as she is mine. I would never take any of your children away from you," Kathy said, placing Elliot's hand on her swollen abdomen. "But…I do think it's time we stop pretending. Maybe I could go stay with my mother for a while."
"No. Not unless you want to. I'd prefer you stay here, in our home. Where you're comfortable. Let's try to keep as much stability for the kids as we can. God knows we've given them enough up and downs to last a lifetime. I'll find a place—"
"There's no rush, Elliot. If you want, you can wait until after the baby is born. Take your time."
"I'm not sure what I'll do. Let me think about it, huh?" He grasped her hand, giving it a squeeze. Kathy nodded her approval.
"One more thing. When do we tell the kids?" Kathy asked.
"I think we need to be honest with them from the start. I don't think they will be surprised. I think they've known for a while that things weren't good between us," Elliot remarked.
"Yeah, they had to have known with the way I've been acting lately—I'm sorry, Elliot. I must have made life beyond difficult this month."
"Well, it was hardest knowing you wouldn't come to me. I hated seeing you in such despair. I was worried."
"I know. And I know it was hard for the kids, too. I owe them an apology. And to tell you the truth, I think they'll actually be relieved we've finally come to terms on our relationship."
"Yeah. If you think the roller coaster was a nightmare for us, think of how it must have been for them."
Silence fell upon them as the two felt more comfortable with each other than they had in years. There was still so much to digest. So much to think about, but a veil had been lifted from the room and both of them were able to see things more clearly than ever. They now felt like friends, nearly best friends. Friends that would always be there for each other, be there for their kids, unified and loving. But able to move on in their own lives and find their own happiness.
Pulling himself off the hard floor and back onto the couch, Elliot reached down to help Kathy.
"Come sit up here—it's more comfortable."
Snuggling next to him, with his arm around her in a genuine gesture of friendship, Kathy reached for the remote that had been shoved down into the cushions. Turning on the television, she found the last half of a holiday movie and they watched it in a well-deserved, hard-earned peace.
"Do you…want to go over to your Mom's?" Elliot asked, as the movie's credits rolled across the screen.
"It's nearly nine-thirty. What's the point?" Kathy observed.
"Yeah, you're right. I'll call the kids to tell them they can come home whenever they'd like."
After speaking to Maureen on the phone, Elliot came out of the kitchen.
"Did you get a hold of them?" Kathy asked.
"Maureen says they'll be on the road within ten minutes. Just have to say their goodbyes to everyone," Elliot answered.
"Did you…tell her?"
"Over the phone?" Elliot's eyes got wide to think Kathy would assume he might not break news like that to his daughter in person. "No. We can tell them tomorrow."
"Of course. I don't know why I said that."
Picking up the orange bag, Elliot said, "I'll take this back upstairs. And if it's all the same to you, I'll think I'll sleep in the other room tonight, okay?"
Kathy slowly blinked and nodded her head. "Perhaps you're right. That might be best. I'll go up with you. I'm exhausted."
"Yeah, you go ahead and rest. I'll hang out down here until the kids get home."
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Early the next morning, Elliot and Kathy were on edge as they prepared to share with their children the latest development in their family. Anticipating harsh words and criticism, they were comforted to find the kids seemingly unaffected.
Maureen simply smiled, and Dickie piped up, "Is this divorce for real this time?"
Kathleen rolled her eyes and said, "It's about time you got yourselves figured out. Am I going to have to move?"
"No," Elliot reassured his kids. "You'll stay in the house with Mom and I'll move out."
"Again," Lizzie reinforced.
"Yes, again," Elliot said, almost embarrassed.
"Well, now that we've got this all settled, can I get a ride to Nicole's?"
"Kathleen!" Maureen called her sister on her tactless behavior.
"What? We already knew this was coming and now that it has, we can all get on with the business of living, right?"
"I think this morning, I'd like us to all eat breakfast together as a family," Kathy stated, gently guiding Kathleen back to her seat at the table.
"But we're not a family," Dickie protested calmly.
"Yes, we are," Kathy firmly announced. "No matter what, we are still a family. Maybe not the conventional one, but your father is still your father and I'm your mother. And no matter what happens between us," sweeping her hand back and forth between her and Elliot, "we still love and care for each other. And most of all, we love all of you. I want you to be very clear on that. Got it?"
Tunes of "Got it, Mom" came in almost unison as Kathy stood with her hands on her hips, waiting for her children to acknowledge their understanding.
"Good. Now, how do waffles sound?"
"Sounds great, Mom," Maureen smiled as she stood. "But you've had a long week. Let me do them."
"What a great idea, Maur," Elliot noted, proudly. "Kathy, you sit down and we'll do the work."
"Um, Dad? Last time you made waffles you beat all the fluffiness out of the egg whites. You sit down, too. We want good waffles, so Maureen will make them."
"Well, don't hold anything back—tell me how you really feel about my cooking," Elliot sat, feigning hurt. "That's fine with me, but the rest of you have to help."
"Like what?" Dickie whined.
This time Kathy stepped in. "Dickie, why don't you set the table? Kathleen, there's some strawberries in the fridge—will you cut them up, please? And Liz, how about making some orange juice? There are a couple cans in the freezer."
Elliot watched his family work together the kitchen and felt a warmth come over him. For the first time, he felt like even though he and Kathy were separating, it didn't mean he'd have to be separated from his children. For the first time, he felt secure in their decision and knew he no longer had to worry about keeping his family in tact. He knew that no matter what happened between he and Kathy, they both had something in common: that their children continue to know their family as they always had—loving, united, and loyal.
The family ate a delicious breakfast together, laughing—more freely than they had in a while. Could it be that his and Kathy's decision to end their marriage had been a relief to his children? Of course, he realized. What child would have wanted to continue to live in a home where tension was always high and the adults were so unhappy? He almost felt as though he and Kathy had been brave to risk being honest with each other. Turned out it was already blessing their family in positive ways.
He almost had to laugh at how the remainder of the morning passed. It was not how he'd imagined a family freshly-told of the parents divorcing would have behaved. It was ironically…normal. Everyone helped clean up the kitchen and then the kids were upstairs showing and hanging out in their rooms.
Kathy came down just as Elliot was leaving for work.
"Will you be home tonight after work?" she asked as he put on his suit coat.
"Uh…I'm not sure, to be honest. I need to think about things first. In ways, I'd like to stay here if you need help before the baby, but I also wonder if it's a mistake to postpone it. It will be a big change for the kids."
"Maybe it would be best to do it now. Like ripping off a band-aid. But that doesn't mean you have to leave tonight."
"I know, but I want some time to myself. And I also need to find an apartment—preferably close to work, I think. So maybe I'll stay in the city tonight and look when I get off work."
"Okay." Squeezing his hand, Kathy closed her goodbyes with, "Be careful, El."
Leaning in, Elliot gave Kathy a kiss on the cheek. For the first time in a while, he didn't do it out of obligation. He had a genuine wish to show her how much he cared and that he was glad she was in his life. She smiled at the gesture as she shut the door behind him.
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Elliot arrived at work just in time to see a suspect in handcuffs being taken into the Interrogation room by Fin. He thought the suspect looked familiar. He just couldn't place him.
"Who is that?" he asked Munch.
"Ah, that my friend, is someone we've been saving just for you: Mr. Dwight Peabody."
Elliot looked at him quizzically.
Munch continued. "Early this morning, we caught a break on the Sterling case."
Elliot was floored. "The Sterling case? What kind of break? Ryan Sterling was raped over eight months ago. We didn't have any solid leads, except that whomever assaulted him had stolen his father's pocket watch."
"And that's what led us to his doorstep. Turns out Mr. Peabody got a little greedy and tried to trade the watch for a night with a prostitute. Only problem is he tried to buy from an undercover cop. The boys down at vice caught wind of the watch and remembered Ryan's case."
Will miracles never cease, Elliot thought to himself. Ryan Sterling had been raped, sodomized, and beaten within an inch of his life. The case had kept Elliot up for weeks as he recalled Ryan's bruised and swollen body and face. The worst part had been his inability to live up to his promise to Ryan that they would "find this guy". After three months of nothing, Elliot finally had to admit to a pressing Ryan that they had investigated every possible lead and didn't know what move to make next. He tried to convince Ryan not to give up; that the detectives at SVU would push on and that Ryan would be notified first of any progress in the case. However, within twenty-four hours, Ryan's body had been found hanging from a rope in his closet rod. Elliot would forever be haunted by the demons Ryan had faced and what Elliot felt was his personal failure to bring Ryan some justice. He wanted a piece of this Peabody, and he wanted it now.
"Fin's in there with Dwight?" Elliot asked.
Munch saw the pupils in Elliot's eyes darken and he knew it could only mean one thing. That Elliot was ready to interrogate, but that he was also a loose cannon, unstable and ready to blow any second.
"Yeah, they're just waiting for you, man. Here's the file of evidence we've got against this guy. Look over it and go get him. Get him for Ryan." Tossing Elliot the file, Munch almost felt sorry for any perp that had to sit across the interrogation table from Detective Stabler.
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Olivia felt like she'd been giving herself a pep talk all morning. She didn't know why, but she was nervous for today. Perhaps because it had been such a long time since she'd participated in any kind of holiday festivities with anyone she'd call family. And of course, with her mother, there was always the elephant in the room. The proverbial history, their origins, how the two women were brought together in this life to begin with. Celebrations were happy, but never relaxed. Never too comfortable or what Olivia felt like they should be: familiar. Natural. She worried today with Simon and Lucy would feel the same way. Yet on the other hand, she was excited and hopeful to be proven wrong. She felt like she and Simon had been given a fresh start ever since he'd gotten married, and she was anxious to establish a relationship with him not unlike the same relationships she'd seen her college roommates have with their siblings. This was her chance and she wasn't about to blow it.
She took her time getting ready. She wanted everything to be just right. She wasn't sure what to wear—if she should dress casually, hoping to convey through her attire and attitude her hopes for a close, easy relationship. Or should she dress formally, showing respect for his invitation and the ritual of the holiday meal and preparations? She finally decided on something in between, but erring on the side of formal caution. Laying out her clothes while her bath water was running, she chose a pleasing pair of black flat-front flare leg pants. She loved the way they flowed on her body and felt she'd be dressy, but comfortable. Her top was a wine-colored blouse, with a wide boatneck opening, which she'd accent with a stylish wrap. She'd been given the wrap as a gift from her mother the Christmas before she passed. Olivia loved it—it was light as a feather, deliciously silky, and fabulously red. Bands of sheer burgundy organza alternated with crimson raw silk, giving it dramatic contrast and texture. It was wonderfully eight feet long, so she was able to wrap it around her shoulders and still have oodles to hang gracefully below.
After her bath, she decided she'd didn't want to get dressed before she made the salad she'd offered to bring. She didn't want to risk getting the clothes dirty. So she put on her black underwear and silk strapless bra and a robe as she tore the lettuce greens and chopped the vegetables. Seeing as how she had a good two hours before she needed to leave, she blow dried her hair and then curled up on her couch to relax.
Within seconds, however, the happy, eager feelings left her as her eye spotted the photo album she'd assembled during her time off after the attack. Her mind immediately went to the newspaper clipping Elliot had picked off her floor. She thought of Elliot, who must have sat with his family yesterday—his wife—at the dinner table and carved the turkey. He, the head of a household she would never become a part of, had probably led his family in prayer as they held hands around the table. She imagined Kathy sitting next to him, squeezing his hand as he thanked God for their bounteous blessings. She wondered if Kathy ever noticed that Elliot's left pinky was the tiniest crooked at the top joint. She wondered if Kathy had ever noticed the way Elliot tapped his shins against the chair legs when he was concentrating. These were traits Olivia had memorized about Elliot, along with about a million other things. You couldn't spend that much time with a person and not pick up on these things. At least not someone like Elliot.
Suddenly, Olivia felt melancholy. She didn't want to be around people. Not if those people couldn't be Elliot. She considered calling Simon and making up an excuse. But she knew it would break her brother's heart and that was something she was unwilling to do, no matter how selfish and sorry she was feeling.
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Splashing the cold water onto his skin, Elliot angrily rubbed his face until it stung. Blindly reaching for the faucet handle, he shut off the water and grabbed a stiff paper towel, holding it tightly against his eyes. He could feel a deep, pulsating headache announcing its arrival in the front of his skull. He knuckles were still red, and beginning to feel tender from the force he'd propelled them with into Dwight's face.
Elliot didn't want to open the door to leave the bathroom. He'd have to face his coworkers, whom he knew would be so obviously trying to not appear obvious as they pretended to not notice him leaving. Just a few minutes ago, his coworkers had been at a standstill as they listened to their captain berate one of the department's most seasoned detectives. It wasn't anything new for them to see, and yet they continued, just as all the other times, to stop their current activities and conversations, not wanting to draw attention from Cragen to themselves, lest his rebuttal had leftovers he was willing to dish out to others.
"Don't bother coming back until you're ready to play detective the right way," Cragen had barked. "Get this rage under check, Stabler, or I'll report you myself. Now get out of here."
Elliot couldn't blame Don. He knew he'd gone overboard with that dickhead Peabody. But he just couldn't help it—seeing Dwight's face develop a smirk as Fin tossed pictures of the deceased Ryan Sterling taken from the bitter metal table in Warner's morgue. Peabody had continued to deny any involvement in Ryan's rape, but the satisfaction in his eyes gave himself away. Elliot couldn't take it any more and had lunged for Dwight, grabbing his shirt collar and tossing him across the room. Dragging himself across the floor and into the corner, Peabody hadn't seemed fazed. Instead he'd just started laughing uncontrollably and it was more than Elliot could bear. Over and over in his mind, he saw Ryan's face—first alive and weeping, as he had been in the hospital room; and then gray and cold, the purple contusions a tragic ring around his neck left behind by the thin rope he'd used to hang himself. Elliot had punched Peabody then, breaking his nose and spraying blood over the wall. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that the only reason Elliot didn't keep punching Dwight until he no longer moved was thanks to Fin, who'd had to exert every fragment of muscle power to pry Elliot away from the over-confident criminal.
Elliot was moving sinuously, only stopping for his coat and keys as he left the bullpen. Cragen opened the blinds of his office, observing Elliot's well-rehearsed departure after a scuffle with a suspect. He had watched the interview from behind the glass and secretly taken a small amount of pleasure as he'd seen Dwight Peabody's form first rise into the air and then fall onto the concrete flooring with a fitting thud. But he knew that as the leader of this department, no exception could be made and Elliot had to be put in his place, otherwise they risked the entire case being blown on police brutality. Now the captain closed his blinds, as he wondered where Elliot would go mid-day, but thinking he had a pretty good idea.
Elliot wasn't sure himself where he would go, but for some reason wasn't surprised when he found himself once again at St. Anne's. Being Catholic was no coincidence in his life, he decided. Somehow he was wired for this stuff. For confessionals and culpability. The gray stone church was part of him, like a homing beacon.
He met Father Bennion in the confessional and they had a long talk. They started about Elliot's job, and Elliot was convinced by the old man that he should express remorse to God for using physical force upon another human being. Then Elliot told Father Bennion about his conversation with Kathy and the enlightenment he had felt.
"The funny thing is, Father, that you'd think all the drama and confessions would make me feel weighed down. Burdened."
Father Bennion finished Elliot's thoughts. "But instead, you feel free. Content."
"Yeah. I wouldn't have expected that."
"My child, the truth is always liberating. Remember, there are no secrets from God. So for us to try to hide things from Him only creates a prison within ourselves. It is through prayer, gratitude, humility, and confessing our sins that we become closer to Him, who ultimately unlocks the gates and sets us free."
They sat in silence for a moment while Elliot contemplated the priest's wisdom.
Father Bennion spoke again. "And…how is your partner? Do you think you have resolved any issues you may have had with her?"
Elliot closed his eyes and rested his head against the thin wall behind him. "Olivia." Breathing deeply through his nose he could practically feel her soft lips against his as he did that night in her apartment. And then it hit him. He and Kathy were over. For good. And wasn't it Kathy who had forced him to admit—admit to her, his current wife—how he felt about Olivia? Wasn't it Kathy who had urged them to stop pretending they were what the other wanted? Kathy had known. She knew he loved Olivia and yet, she was okay. He didn't have to feel guilty anymore. "I haven't resolved anything with Olivia, per se. But about her…uh, yeah. I guess I just did." Gathering his coat that lay on his lap, Elliot paused, his eyes downward in thought. "Excuse me, Father, but I think I have somewhere else I need to be."
"Um, Elliot, before you go running off—"
"Yes, Father?"
"Do you think just once we could end one of your confessions the proper way, without you running out on me?"
Elliot could hear the smile in Father Bennion's voice, and that made him smile as well.
"Of course, Father. I'm sorry." Elliot bowed his head and expressed an Act of Contrition as he made the sign of the cross. "O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended you and I detest all my sins. Most of all because I have offended you, my God, who are all good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve with the help of your grace, to confess my sins, to do penance, and to amend my life. Amen."
Father Bennion closed by saying, "Give thanks to the Lord for He is good."
"For His mercy endures forever," Elliot responded. "Listen, uh…?"
"Yes, Elliot?"
Elliot paused, wanting Father Bennion to know the sincerity of his words. "Thank you. You've helped me more than you'll ever know."
"You're welcome, my child. Now isn't there somewhere you were planning on going?"
But the priest never received a response. The confessional was already empty, and Father Bennion knew exactly where Elliot would be going.
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Pulling up to her building, Elliot hesitated only for a moment as he debated the wisdom in what he was about to do. Maybe she wasn't home. Or maybe she was and wouldn't want him, just like Kathy. Maybe this was too fast. Nine years too fast. But thinking of everything he might miss out on if he didn't take this chance, a warmth filled his chest and he was reassured she was worth the risk.
Opening the door, he smiled at an elderly woman who was collecting her mail. Seeing that she was having a difficult time holding her stack of mail as she tried to bend down and pull the remaining envelopes from her box, Elliot stopped to offer his assistance.
"May I?" Elliot indicated his willingness to retrieve the rest of the mail.
"Oh, yes, please. That would be most helpful," she responded. Her eyes were kind and trustworthy. She looked over the tall man. My, he was handsome. Obviously in great shape and with a smile that seemed more sincere than most. Perhaps he didn't smile often? Betty studied the good Samaritan and determined she could very well see that about him. That he didn't smile often, so when he did, it must be golden and genuine. The most noticeable feature he sported, however, was his aquatic eyes. They made her recall the deep pools around the geysers she'd seen at Yellowstone on her first honeymoon. "My name is Betty. Do you live here in the building?"
Elliot stood straight to place the last piece of mail onto the small pile in Betty's arms. "No. I, uh, I'm just visiting a friend."
"Oh, well, perhaps we'll run into each other again some time. And thank you for helping me."
"I'm happy I could help. Are you okay carrying that?"
"Oh, yes. I love getting the mail. It's nice to know someone is thinking of you, even if it might just be the bill companies."
"Well, have a nice day then," Elliot spoke politely as he turned to leave up the staircase.
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Finished with the final touches on her makeup, Olivia turned out the bathroom light and shut her bedroom door. Doing her best to stop thinking of Elliot, although ever since he'd crossed her mind an hour ago she hadn't had much luck, she turned the small black knob on the floor lamp next to the couch and prepared to leave. Tossing the silk wrap around her shoulders, she grabbed her purse, tucking it underneath her right arm, and finally took the salad from the refrigerator. Just as she twisted the door knob, someone from the other side began to knock.
When she the doorway was opened, she blinked in astonishment. He was the last person she expected to see this holiday weekend. She took in his appearance, as she sought any form of stability—the door became her anchor.
Something was different about him. He was wearing his suit, indicating he had been at work—which confused her, because today was his day to work. Why wasn't he there now? But his tie had been removed and the first three buttons on his shirt had been opened. She blinked slowly, commanding herself to stop thinking about the hard chest and the strong heart that beat under the thin grey fabric.
It was his eyes…that was the difference. The abyss had changed and they seemed lighter. Bright. Almost azure. At least at first glance. The outer ring of his pupil was lighter, as though he wasn't as weighed down. Something had definitely changed.
She wanted to ask him why he was here. Why he wasn't with his wife. She wanted to tell him she was just leaving. But she couldn't. She dared not speak. She didn't need to. They stared at each other for long moments, communicating like they used to through their gaze. And then she saw it. The light blue ring in his eyes seemed to darken. They reminded her of the violet-blue tanzanite jewelry that hung from the small peg in her jewelry box. She knew what that change was. She'd seen it before. It was yearning.
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Elliot had stood outside her door, trying to summon the courage to knock. Then he'd heard it. Footsteps. In heels. How he loved her long legs in heels! And from the sounds of it, it was coming from her kitchen. She was home. She was there. And the only thing between them now was two inches of door. That was it. Nothing else had to stand in their way, except themselves. And together, he believed they could overcome their fears and finally be together. So he did it. He knocked.
She'd answered immediately, as though she'd been anticipating his coming. But then he saw her, with her purse and a dark green ceramic bowl covered in plastic wrap, and he realized she was on her way to Simon's. He wanted to explain why he wasn't at work. Why he was so excited to see her. But his mouth failed him.
He couldn't speak. She was too much. Too beautiful. Too perfect. She had dressed up for dinner, obviously. The dark red shirt and scarf-thing she was wearing matched her lipstick perfectly. He couldn't take his eyes off her mouth. The way it was partially open, as though she was trying to say something but didn't know how. He looked at her eyes, shadowed in dark makeup that somehow did the impossible—it made the brown in her eyes black. They were open wide, blinking occasionally. Blinking so slowly, as though she was taunting him with those forever eyelashes.
Reaching into her umber eyes, Elliot tried communicating with her. Never taking his focus off of her, his lips bent upward in the tiniest of smiles. He knew that she'd seen it and that she knew what he was saying. He wanted her to know that she was the most amazing woman in the world. That the way he'd seen her help victims and other people around her, all the while putting her own needs on hold made her unparalleled. That he never knew her kind of beauty existed until he'd met her. That her exotic features had haunted his dreams for endless nights and he was ready to do whatever he could to make her dreams come true as well. That he was ready to take the next step, and he wasn't afraid of the risk, because seeing her face and reading her body language told him that if she could just not be afraid, there would be no risk. They were meant for this, for each other. But now that he was here, it was her move to make next. His arms ached with need to hold her against his body, but he had to be invited in. She had to want him to come closer, to be near him, to be with him.
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Finally topping the stairs, Betty heaved a thick breath of relief. Living this high up could be difficult sometimes, but the rent couldn't be beat and deep down she was grateful for the way it forced her and her husband to push themselves a bit and get some exercise. Turning down the hallway, she was surprised to see her Good Samaritan from the lobby. And even more surprised to see him in front of her neighbor's door. She'd never seen Olivia had company, aside from the delivery boys with pizza or Chinese. Betty noticed the man knock just as Olivia opened the door.
For a split second, Betty felt a twinge of guilt, wondering if it was polite for her to be watching, but she wanted to make sure Olivia would be okay. Besides, the couple was mesmerizing, and they didn't seem to notice her presence anyway. They were a curious pair—Betty watched, captivated by their silent exchange. Neither voiced a word verbally, but the heated glances they offered one another were heavy with history and spoke volumes. It was then that Betty realized this man could have the identity of only one possible person. This had to be him. Olivia's Elliot. Just like Betty's Saul from what seemed ages ago, and yet just yesterday.
Fascinated, Betty squinted for a better look. She saw the man shift his weight as he gripped the doorway with both hands, as though he had to do something with them. As though letting them simply hang at his sides was unthinkable. Their eye contact never faltered, but Betty could sense a change. From the side, it was difficult to know for sure, but Betty thought she saw this Elliot give a small smile. His breathing quickened, as she examined his chest heaving with longing and hope.
When Olivia had first opened the door, Betty could see the surprise on her face. In a matter of seconds, it had shown a range of emotion. First surprise, then confusion, as though Olivia was studying an Elliot she'd never seen before. Finally, it settled on a look of need, a look of love. Betty was familiar with that look. She'd had it herself once. Of course, with the two men she'd married, but particularly with one man that ironically she'd never had. She'd only experienced that kind of passion and craving for Saul.
After Elliot had given his decisive, but conservative, smile, Olivia's look went again to surprise—whatever Elliot was communicating to her with his telling revelation had obviously not been what Olivia had been expecting. And then Betty saw it. Olivia showed relief. She watched as Olivia's eyes filled with tears. She saw Olivia fight to keep them from spilling down her cheeks by concentrating on breathing deeply through her nose.
Elliot cocked his head to the side, as if asking permission. Betty heard Olivia's feet shuffle just a quarter inch as she pushed the door she'd been securely gripping open to its full-width. Betty couldn't take her eyes off Olivia's face as Elliot cautiously stepped through the threshold, reaching for the green bowl and leather clutch in Olivia's arms. He took the bowl with his hands, but his eyes still held Olivia's. Betty couldn't see behind Olivia, but when she heard the sound, she knew Elliot had just placed the bowl and purse onto the kitchen counter. She watched Elliot step back towards Olivia, but remaining behind her.
Olivia continued to stay fast in her doorway position, as though she was struggling to wrap her mind around what was happening. Elliot came close behind her but never touched her. Betty wondered what he was going to do next. Leaning in, he whispered something into Olivia's ear, which caused her eyes to go wide before blinking. A blink from which her eyes did not open until she'd sucked in a deep breath through her glossed lips. Her cheeks became flushed and pink. Still, she did not move.
Elliot then reappeared in front of Olivia, and Betty's heart was moved as she saw Elliot extend a hand towards Olivia. It was the first time Olivia looked down—her brow furrowing as though she was trying to read Elliot's palm. Then she looked up again, her eyes showing nothing but trust and desire, as she lifted her own hand, placing her long fingers in the safe alcove of Elliot's warm and gentle grip.
And then it was over. They were nearly out of Betty's view because Elliot had stretched his right leg behind him, hooking the open door with his foot and leisurely closing the gap in the opening. Just before the last sliver of light was shut out from Olivia's apartment, Betty witnessed a moment so sacred that it finally caused her to turn away—even before the shut door would have. Elliot had reached up with his free hand and touched Olivia's face, tenderly tracing his fingertips down her cheek until they reached her quivering chin. Olivia's eyes closed in anticipation. Using his fingertips to tilt her chin upward, his face leaned into hers. And that's when Betty turned around, out of respect. The door gave its final "click", indicating that the moment was not only long overdo, but private and belonging only to them.
"The End", or shall I say "The Beginning"?
A/N: Well, this is it folks. Elliot and Olivia have finally found each other and I leave it to your imaginations to complete what happens next. Thanks for all the great reviews. I'm humbled, because although it was fun to write this, it was a lot of hard work. I appreciate even more now the stories that are so well-written and woven together. As for myself, it sure didn't seem to come very easily and I know that you were very generous in your kind words. Thanks for a fun ride!