Hey everyone! Thank you for all of your reviews. Here's the next chapter. And thanks, Chels, for your continued support and help! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Dick Wolf and Co. like to screw with Olivia's life and her partnership with Elliot (has anyone seen the "Perverted" promo? Gees). I don't own them; I'm just borrowing them for a little of my own enjoyment.
Rupture
The first week Elliot stays busy.
Keeping his mind occupied with case files and police reports makes it easier to push away the memories. Memories of Olivia screaming his name over and over, her legs wrapping around his back, her eyes fluttering closed as she climaxed.
His partner seems to have no trouble getting back to normal. On Wednesday she walks over and leans her hip against his desk. "Wanna grab some lunch before the trial?" she asks, casual as ever.
He pats a stack of manila folders by his computer. "Busy."
It's been his go-to answer all week. He feels like she's been deliberately trying to sabotage his attempt to forget. It was her idea, dammit. He's just trying to give her what she wants.
Olivia frowns but goes to lunch without him, just like she did yesterday and the day before that. It takes Elliot a moment to get her out of his head, then he buries himself in paperwork.
But the paperwork only lasts a week. Without the distraction, his mind starts replaying their night together, every detail so vivid it's like he's watching it in HDTV.
**
The second week Elliot tries to avoid her.
Putting physical space between them is the only way he can keep his hands off her. Every time Olivia enters the bullpen, he dodges her questions and ducks into the crib or hides in the bathroom. At one point he is sequestered in the men's room for fifteen minutes, listening at the door until he hears her storm off.
Olivia, he notes, has a harder time concealing her irritability. She stops asking him to go to lunch. She hasn't asked for a ride home since the day Porter left.
Elliot realizes that avoiding her isn't very effective. It's difficult to completely ignore someone you work with, when you spend the better part of the day with them stuffed into cars or interrogating suspects in a tiny, cinderblock room.
When Kathy asks him if he's having problems at work because he's managed to make dinner every night this week, Elliot decides it's time for Plan C.
**
A few days later Olivia corners him in an interrogation room.
"What is your problem, Elliot?"
Her voice is strained and Elliot realizes that she's not having an easy time forgetting about the sex either. Dark circles rim her lower lids, show how tired she is of putting up with his immature bullshit.
She's calling him out on his rude behavior, his half-assed Plan C. He's oddly glad though, because he hates himself for treating her like shit and now he'll have to stop.
"This isn't working. I can't stop thinking about it."
Olivia ignores his admission. "It's our only option. If word gets out—"
"Yeah, I know. The shit will hit the fan."
"I don't want a new partner."
"Well, I guess you should've thought about that before," he says without thinking.
Her hand slaps him before he sees it move. There's no restraint on her part. The skin on his jaw prickles, heats and tingles.
Glares are exchanged, deep breaths taken on both sides.
"Pull yourself together, Elliot. This is how it's gonna be. I need to know you can handle this."
She's right, of course. He just doesn't want to accept that it's over between them, romantically anyway. Things don't feel finished. All they've done is open a box of new sensations, new feelings, new possibilities. Elliot's not ready to put the lid back on yet.
"I can handle it."
She looks skeptical, but she should be, because Elliot doesn't believe the words that just came out of his mouth either.
A short series of knocks sounds on the double-sided mirror. They attempt to hide their panicked expressions before turning around. The door cracks open. Their captain's head appears.
"I want you two in my office," he says. "Now."
Fuck.
Olivia is the first to move, striding out of the interrogation room with her head high. Elliot shuffles after her, not feeling the same confidence. Cragen knows. He just knows.
If Dean Porter's visit taught Elliot anything, it's that privacy is overestimated. He should've known their secret would come out, especially with Cragen watching. Their boss probably has hidden microphones in the walls, probably employs the janitorial staff as spies too.
Or maybe Cragen just has eyes and half a brain.
**
"Who wants to explain?" Cragen asks after they're seated. He remains standing, assuming the proper stance to dole out a serious reprimand.
"Explain what?" Elliot asks.
"Cut the crap, detective. I'm not blind. And you're not as subtle as you think. How long has this been going on?"
His question produces an uncomfortable silence, thick with accusations. He knows everything, Elliot thinks as he pulls at his collar—the fabric feels like it's choking off his air supply, but it's just the lump in his throat.
Olivia tries to rescue their sinking chance at remaining partners, at keeping their jobs. "Sir, we had one lapse in judgment, but we're dealing with it. It's been dealt with."
"Rules are made for a reason," Cragen begins, his words cracking with the rage boiling beneath his composed appearance. "When things like this happen, good cops get killed."
Cragen pauses deliberately, lets his remark sink in. "When cops become romantically involved, they let their guards down. People get killed. Civilians. Victims. Partners."
"Captain," Elliot tries to interrupt, tries to tell him that won't happen.
"I did not ask for your opinion, Detective Stabler!"
His shout keeps Elliot from speaking.
"I won't have any of my detectives end up dead because you couldn't keep it in your pants," Cragen says, narrowing his eyes at Elliot before turning on Olivia, "Or because you undid yours."
Elliot's fists clench at the insult. He deserves the reprimand, but not Olivia. He was the one that started things, whatever she might argue.
She tugs on his sleeve when he opens his mouth. "El..." she growls in warning.
His fists release, responding to her voice.
Cragen sits and rubs his hands over his face. He remains silent, considering the situation. "This 'lapse in judgment' won't jeopardize your ability to work with each other, will it?" he asks finally.
"No," Olivia says quickly.
"No," Elliot echoes.
Cragen's eyes dart between them, assessing.
"It would be a shame to have to split you up. Consider this a final warning. If you two don't sort this out soon, you'll both have rookies for partners. Understood?"
They respond with a simultaneous, "Yes, Captain."
Cragen waves his hand in dismissal.
Elliot knows he must try harder to forget, to treat his partner as nothing but his partner. No matter how much it kills him to do it.
They walk back to their adjacent desks in stiff silence. Olivia's phone rings and she answers in a soft voice.
"We'll be right down," she says after a moment. Hanging up, she looks at Elliot. "We've got a case."
A/N: Well, I'm trying to be pretty realistic about the whole situation here. But the next chapter is head in a slightly different (read: possibly less ansty) direction. And for anyone who worries like I do about story length, just know that this fic isn't going to end any time soon. :)