A/N: Alrighty then! Chapter 3. And surprisingly, no one is mad at me for writing this in class, and completely ignoring what's going on. Even my math teacher, who stood behind me as I scribbled out this chapter and actually chuckled when I got to the part with Cragen in the dinosaur suit …. Ha. Sorry. That was really random, I know. But, what they hey.

Anyway, I'm so excited. Tomorrow I am so skipping school! (Okay, not really. But close enough.) My theatre class is going on a "field trip" to go perform our one-act "Validation" which is going to be amazing. Plus we'll get to see other school's one acts. Yay! No algebra II for me.

So I bet a lot of you are reading this and thinking when is she going to stop rambling and get on with the story? The answer is now, my dear readers. The answer is now. Right after a word from our sponsors …

Disclaimer: Mr. Dicky has yet again declined to give this show to me. Oh come on sir. It's not like I would do anything bad. Maybe just a few kisses between El and Liv here … a little bring-back-Dani-Beck-and-have-someone-kill-her there … oh and maybe a tiny -minuscule- murder of Kathy too. But, alas (I love that word! Don't you? Alas … alas … Ala-ha-ha-ha-ha-as. Sorry), until I can convince Mr. Dicky to hand over my rightful ownership rights … it isn't mine.

Enjoy.

1 week later…

Things hadn't gotten much better. Elliot and I had returned to work, catching perps, drinking the disgusting "Munch coffee", and doing paper work. Loads of paper work. Sure, everything seemed normal on the surface. To any regular person walking into the squad room, it was almost like nothing had ever happened that night.

But every now and then, I would glance up and see this blank look on Elliot's face, like he was thinking back to a time when things were better. When he could go to work and know that he had a wife and kids waiting for him back at home.

My heart would pound incessantly whenever he got that withdrawn look in his eyes. And then tears would appear in my eyes faster than a speeding cheetah. No matter how much he -or anyone else for that matter- comforted me, there would always be a small part of me that blamed myself.

"Hey Olivia," John Munch whispered in my ear, causing me to jump about 10 feet in the air. I hadn't noticed he was behind me. Too busy watching my partner flip through a file, the detached look back on his profile.

"Damn! Munch! Don't startle me like that," I scolded him, giving him my best scowl. It didn't work right though; I could never stay angry with John for long.

John just smirked. "Sorry Liv. But, seeing as how you were too busy staring at Elliot, I thought I should come tell you that your phone is ringing off the hook."

I felt the blush creep onto my cheeks. So he had noticed. "John, I-"

"No need to thank me," he smiled, picking up the phone and handing it to me. "Just deal with the victims now. But I'm always here for you Olivia. If you need to talk, you know where to find me."

I smiled. "Thanks John." He gave me a grin before walking slowly back to his desk.

Realizing that I was still on the phone, I sighed, placing the receiver to my ear. "Special Victims Unit, Benson."

And so, our day begins.

……………………………

"I don't think seeing all these victims is ever going to get any easier," I grumbled to Elliot as we walked toward his car.

We had just interviewed a little girl, about 5 years old, who was brutally raped. And when I say brutal, I literally mean it.

"Took you 9 years to figure that out, huh Liv?" Elliot chuckled, slamming his car door shut behind him.

"These perps are getting so much more violent these days," I complained angrily.

"They do tend to do that after seeing all the glorified crimes in the papers, on television…"

"Ugh. Can we please not talk about this? Not now, at least?" I shook my head, trying to clear the images that were swirling in my head.

Elliot got suddenly quiet. And it wasn't the comfortable silence either. Talk about awkward.

"Uh. Sure Liv. So … what do you want to talk about?" Why was he sounding so nervous? So confused? So sad, lonely?

"I think you know what we need to talk about El …" I whispered softly, turning to face the window. Tiny raindrops slid quickly down the clear windows of Elliot's car.

"Oh … right. " Silence. I sighed. This was going to get us nowhere. I knew that it was still fresh, only a week ago. But Elliot was in so much pain right now… I had to be there for him. And I couldn't even touch him without feeling guilty or without having my feelings crushed.

I had to be the best friend; I knew that. But what else did I think I could be? His partner? His lover? I've wanted him for years, but there was always something in the way. His wife, my undercover assignment, his new (now old) monstrosity of a partner -Dani Beck-. Oh and of course our job.

But what was stopping us now? We had kissed! He had kissed me! Finally, it had given a voice of reason to my hidden love. But there was no way he could love me. Not like that, like I wanted him to. No way he could ever want to be anything more than my partner, or my best friend.

Yes. The more I thought about it, the crazier my ideas seemed. Our kiss was a sign of stress, of worry, of sadness, of relief. Nothing more, no matter how much I wanted it to be.

So, with a heavy heart, I turned to my best friend and gave him the biggest smile I could manage. "So, tell me I was not the only one to see that picture of Cragen! Him in a purple dinosaur suit? Who would've thought?"

Elliot turned to me, taken aback by my sudden change of mood. His eyes glazed over while he studied my face for any hint of another feeling. He knew me well, but there was no way I would let him see me in my pain.

Then he smiled. "I know. How did Munch even get that picture anyway? That's definitely going to be the new scandal of the office." He chuckled softly and I joined him, knowing full well that Cragen's "Barney" look was so not going to be the real scandal.

No that honor belonged to someone else… me. Of course, there would only be two people in on the subject. Elliot would only know of our kiss, not my emotions. I would know everything, and still not know what to do with it.

Maybe I should take Munch up on his offer to talk. Just as long as he doesn't make me drink any of that coffee of his.