Authors Notes – Slight delay on this, because once again El and Liv seem to have taken the story and ran with it in a direction I wasn't planning. Mind you, they have convinced me to write a sequel when I eventually get done with this, so they're not all bad!
As ever, feedback rocks!
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Olivia's words stuck with Elliot, all the time he was out on the street. He knew he only had himself to blame, for letting lust kick in when caution and compassion might have been better, but it didn't stop what she'd said hurting. Plus, he was deeply concerned that he'd blown it for good, and that this was it now. They'd end up at loggerheads forever.
By the time he'd seen his witness, and briefly followed up the lead, it was coming up to lunch time and he resolved to take a second crack at her, desperate to make things right. He went to the drug store, and a sandwich bar, on the way back to the precinct, and when he arrived in the squad room placed his purchases gingerly on Olivia's desk.
She looked from the items, to him, and Elliot figured that was a good start. At least she was responding to him now, as opposed to point blank ignoring him. She picked up the paracetmol and razors first, opening her desk drawer and placing them inside, before turning her attention to the meatball sub and energy drink he'd picked up her for lunch.
"Retribution sandwich?" She said questioningly, "That's a new one." But Elliot couldn't help notice that she had it out of the packet and was taking a bite before he could respond.
"I thought it might soak up your hangover." He explained, then u-turned, worried that she might see it as an accusation, "Well, you know, if you've got one."
She laughed slightly, and although it was slight it was enough of a laugh to feel like progress, "You know I have. I look like crap."
"You look beautiful." The words were out of Elliot's mouth before he could stop them and he instantly regretted them when he saw her grimace in response. He sighed, "Wrong thing to say?"
She pushed her chair back, dumping the sandwich in the trash and getting to her feet. She gave him a cold look, "You know it was." And then she walked out of the squad room without another word.
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She was on the roof when Elliot found her. She'd known that he'd follow but then in truth she'd almost wanted him to. Wanted to get him to a place where they could have it out, once and for all.
"Don't jump." He said, as he appeared on the opposite side of the roof to her, and to Olivia it seemed like he was only half joking.
"I'd push you off before I did." she retorted, certainly not joking. Not in the slightest.
He came up beside her, holding his hands up submissively, "No funny business. I just want to talk."
Olivia didn't look at him. It was too hard to do so. It was like torture, too much of a reminder of everything that had gone on the night before. Too much of a reminder of everything she wanted so badly. Instead, she just looked down, staring out down to the street below. "What makes you think there's anything left to talk about El?" She knew the second the words were out of her mouth that they were a mistake. If ever there was a chink in her armour it was using her pet name for him, and of course, he seized on it.
"You called me El. Not Stabler. That proves there's something left to save."
She sighed, again cursing her own stupidity. "All the same," She murmured softly, unable to keep the sadness out of her voice, "you can't make this better. You said it yourself its messy and complicated and we'd be better off leaving well alone."
"Liv," He reached out, touched her arm, and she let him, although it was against her better judgement, "I can't bear the thought of losing you."
That seemed hilarious to Olivia. HE was scared of losing HER? It was like not one single solitary word of hers from the night before had sunk into his thick skull. HE was scared of losing HER when he was the one who had people; a wife, kids, a family. He wasn't even beginning to imagine how scared she - the one who had no one but him - was that their friendship had been compromised beyond repair, and that he would end up walking out of her life, never to return. She was about to turn on him and unleash a rant to that effect when she realised they were no longer alone.
"What do you want Munch?" She asked their colleague who was stood awkwardly on the other side of the roof, obviously not having felt that he could interrupt.
"Cragen wants you downstairs. We've caught a case. Baby in a dumpster."
She jogged over to him, leaving Elliot behind, "Does this mean I'm off desk duty?"
Munch nodded, but there was no missing the curious look on his face, "What's going on with you and Elliot?"
There was no point lying to him, Munch was too smart and too suspicious for that so instead she looked at him pleadingly, appealing to his better nature, "I'd rather not discuss it if its all the same to you."
He shrugged, "Sure. Already forgotten."
She kissed his cheek, "Thanks Munch."
If only dealing with Elliot could be that easy.
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Much to Elliot's relief, they managed to work the case that afternoon like professionals. Olivia stopped her sniping and they just got down to the task in hand. The tension was still there, he could see that, but at least it was under the surface and not on display for all and sundry to witness.
A lot of that though was down to the case itself. All cases were serious, but there were those that allowed for a bit of joviality or personal interplay between the squad, and there were those that absolutely did not. This was one of the latter. There was an infant involved and it only took one look at the body, a bloodied and battered mess, for Elliot to realise that until they cracked the case, nothing else would be allowed to get in the way.
And so, they worked quietly and conscientiously, their relationship lacking its usual warmth, but still working as partners all the same.
And Elliot was glad she was there with him, wouldn't have handled it without her there. All infanticide cases were hell, and as a father particularly hit him where it hurt, but this was one of the worst he'd witnessed, particularly when the ME revealed the body had a whole catalogue of injuries going right back to birth. 4 months the poor little thing had lived and by the looks of it had been beaten daily. It was going to be one of 'those' cases; one of those that haunted him night and day for its duration, and then intermittently for the rest of his life.
Which was why, when they eventually called it a night, and he headed home, the last thing he needed to be greeted by was Kathy. Off on one. Wanting to know why he'd called their daughter a 'bitch' that morning. Expecting him to explain himself.
Yeah. Right. Babies found battered to death in dumpsters, children being neglected by their mothers, mere babies being left to fend for themselves, and he was being asked to explain himself because he told his spoilt 15 year old daughter a few home truths?
Kathy could dream on.
He didn't even bother taking his coat off, instead turning on heel and walking out of the house, Kathy's words still ringing in his ears.
He walked to Olivia's apartment, not kidding himself for one second that he didn't know where he was going. Not trying to pretend that he was looking for a bar, or an liquor store, or anything. He walked directly to her neighbourhood, climbed the steps to her building and hit the buzzer.
Initially, there was no answer. So he tried again. And then, over the intercom,
"I'm not about to sleep with you El, but if you want a heart to heart about the case, come on up."
He couldn't help smiling at that; at her apparent psychic intuition in knowing it was him, and the fact that the tenseness that had been apparent in her voice all day seemed to have lightened some what. Not to mention the fact that in spite of what was probably her better judgment, she was letting him in anyway.
He headed upstairs to her apartment and found the door open, and Olivia curled up on the couch in her pyjamas, with a cot blanket over her legs. He stood awkwardly in the doorway waiting for further instructions, "Hi."
She sighed, and then sitting up, patted the space on the sofa beside her, waiting until he came and sat down before she finally spoke, "I knew you'd come."
His turn to sigh, "I can't stop picturing the baby Liv."
She nodded, "Me too." She turned her head slightly to look at him, and he felt self conscious as she stared, apparently reading his face, "You had a row with Kathy?"
He laughed slightly at that, finding it almost unnerving that she knew him so well, although it felt good too. Having someone who could read you like a book, having someone who knew you so well that you didn't even have to speak for them to know what the problem was. "How did you know?"
Olivia got to her feet, heading towards the kitchen, and he had no doubt that she'd be returning with a bottle of wine, "Partner intuition Stabler, partner intuition."
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She knew that the last thing she ought to be doing after the night before was entertaining him, not least in her pyjamas. But she also knew what infanticide cases did to Elliot, how much they wrecked his head, and she wasn't about to abandon him at that moment, no matter how pissed she'd been at him, or how dangerous him being there, in her apartment, could be perceived to be.
She grabbed a bottle of red and two glasses from the kitchen before stopping briefly in the hallway to stare in the large oval mirror that hung there and to give her reflection a damn good pep talk. No talking about her past. No hand holding. No physical contact. No kisses, not even those platonic ones he was so fond of planting in her hair. Just shop talk. The baby. Nothing personal.
Pep talk done, she made her way back to him, and found him sat on the couch still, his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking, as he sobbed silent tears. Sighing, and mentally striking the physical contact condition from her list, she sat beside him and wrapped her arm around his shoulder, pulling him close to her, holding him as he cried.
When he was done, he pulled away, looking embarrassed as he tended to on the very rare occasions that he broke down in front of her. She reached for his hand, striking that too off the list and then hesitantly spoke,
"The baby? Or Kathy?"
He wiped his eyes, taking a deep breath so she knew what was coming even before he said it,
"You."
"Me?" She sloshed the wine into the glasses, keeping herself busy, avoiding looking at him. Trying to be the strong one. The one who wasn't going to 'give into it' all over again.
"You." He took the bottle from her hands, placing it down on the table and then taking her hands in his, "You're the reason the baby is hitting me so hard. And you're the reason I fought with Kathy. Its all you Olivia. Everything comes back to you."
She let go of his hands, got to her feet. Still desperate to do that right thing, and to an extent still smarting from the events of the night before, "And yet, its not me you're married to. So this conversation is academic."
There was a long long silence. And then Elliot dropped his bombshell.
"But the conversation doesn't have to be academic. I could be married to you. If that's what you want…"
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He hadn't thought the words through before he said them, and therefore, they should have come as of much of a shock to him as they clearly did to her, but if anything his surprise came from the fact that they weren't a shock. They felt… right.
Not that Olivia thought so. Not in the slightest. Not judging by the way she exploded.
"You have got to be fucking kidding." She was pacing the floor, just as she had been doing the night before when he'd finally grabbed her and kissed her, "Last night you wouldn't even sleep with me, tonight, you're leaving your wife and kids. Over what? A baby in a dumpster who you - I assume - link back to me in some way because I too had a shitty start in life? That's what's turned you around? Made you want me? Well you can forget it. I'm no one's sympathy screw Elliot."
Elliot groaned, wondering when it had become law that he couldn't open his mouth without her getting upset or misinterpreting his words. He took a deep breath and then tried again.
"Tonight, I was so cut up about you and the case. And I went home to my wife looking for support, looking for someone I could lean on. And was she there for me? Was she hell? She didn't even see I was upset. She didn't see I was hurting. But you, even though you're pissed at me, you did Liv. You were here for me, with your gentle hugs and your comforting words. Because you know me. Inside out."
"I see." She sat back down beside him, but her tone was still fairly frosty. She picked up her glass and sipped it, before turning to look at him, "I thought that hitting on your partner when you're down is considered unacceptable."
Touche.
He reached out; lay his hand over hers, "Maybe I was wrong Liv."
"And maybe," she said slowly, "you were right all along. How could we ever build a relationship based on what we have?"
He wasn't prepared to give her that one, "I think that's a weak argument considering the fact we already have."
She glared at him, "A working relationship Elliot. A working relationship."
He shook his head, "It's more than that. And you know it."
"No!" She exploded again, but he grabbed her hand before she could get back onto her feet and start the pacing thing all over again. She stayed sitting but her rant continued, "I know that you're married, and that it could never work, and that you were the one who told me that a thousand times, and God Elliot…" her eyes filled with tears and much as he hated himself for it, it didn't make him wish he could retract his words, "what the hell do you think you're doing here? Why are you doing this?"
As her tears began to fall, he reached out and pulled her to him, cradling her in his arms, "Because Liv, I meant what I said on the roof today. I don't want to lose you… but more than that, I want to be with you."
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She felt like a fool for doing so, but she stayed in his arms, although her head was screaming at her to move away. She knew she should. Knew she needed to fight against her heart which had lost her plot roughly around the point where Elliot told her that she could be his wife. But it had been a crap day, following on from yet another crap day and truth be known, she needed it. Needed him.
He kissed the tears from her cheeks and when she finally stopped crying he let loose with another of the bombshells that he seemed to be in the habit of dropping so well.
"Let me love you Livvy."
Even her heart knew that was trouble, not least because her brain was still shrieking "sympathy screw" at the two of them. It wasn't that she didn't want him, not for a minute. God, in many ways it was all she wanted. But she'd had her fingers burnt the night before, and not only that but…
"You can't leave your wife and kids because I had a lousy mother."
He looked confused at her words, and although she was sure it was completely genuine, it didn't change the hard facts,
"You've never been interested in me like this, until now. Until last night when I told you what my childhood was like. When you realised how messed up I am. And yeah," she held her hand up, silencing protests she knew were coming, "you'd looked at my ass, you'd imagined what it might be like to grope my breasts but you never once thought about leaving Kathy. And you shouldn't be thinking that way now…" She stroked his cheek, "I know what you're scared of. You gave that away when you stole the paracetemol from my bathroom last night. But I'm stronger than that, and you don't have to marry me to stop me committing suicide. I've lived with my life a long time, and I don't intend to go anywhere any time soon. Capische?"
He smiled, "Capische."
She was just thinking that she was glad it was over. That there would be no further debate and that they'd be able to move on from that moment, when he spoke again, "Except, my wanting to be with you has so little to do with losing you Liv, and everything to do with my wanting to be with you. Why can't you see that?"
She groaned, out loud, needing him to see how frustrated she was with his continued insistence, the fact that he wouldn't let it go, "Because you're not giving me any evidence to the contrary!"
"Oh no?" He retorted, bringing her further still into his embrace and gently nuzzling her neck before gently brushing his lips against hers, "How about this?"
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