A/N: Hopefully this will be the last traumatic chapter (for readers at least), as far as revelations go. There was no better title for this chapter. A huge thank you to everyone who reviewed, even if some of them involved threats of bodily harm. I deserved it. ;) Enjoy the chapter. And thanks for reading.

Chels, you help me more than you know.

Disclaimer: I don't own SVU or the characters. Those rights belong to NBC and Dick Wolf and Co.

Revelations II

The ring is MIA.

It makes him wonder if he imagined the whole thing. Elliot almost convinces himself that night didn't happen, except Olivia has been avoiding him, giving him apprehensive looks like he's going to reveal her darkest secret.

That's why the ring is missing; she doesn't want anyone to find out she's engaged.

Elliot's happy he crashed the celebration. Otherwise Olivia might have kept him in the dark until after she was married.

Now that he knows, he has to try and stop her. If not for his sake and sanity, then for hers. There's still time to talk her out of this mistake.

The only problem is getting her to talk.

Elliot makes a mental note to thank his Captain one day. Cragen ordered a stakeout on a suspect in a rape investigation, inadvertently giving Elliot the perfect chance to interrogate his partner about her misguided decisions.

Olivia is trapped and testy. She's probably been expecting—dreading—this conversation.

Elliot doesn't want to disappoint her. "So, about last week."

"What about it?" Her voice sounds calm, but Elliot hears the edge.

"Well, for starters, you're engaged."

"Yes, I am."

"How can you be engaged to a man you've known for three months?"

She keeps her eyes on the apartment building their supposed to be monitoring. "Don't start this, El. Not now."

"We've got plenty of time," he says. "What's so special about this guy?"

"His name is Henry. Stop referring to him like he's some stranger."

"Isn't that what he is? How much do you know about Reed?"

"Plenty."

Elliot snorts. He doesn't believe that for a minute. "And how much does he know about you?"

Her mouth opens, but she can't come up with an answer.

Elliot pushes the issue. "Does Reed know about your mother? Your father? Does he know how your job consumes your life or how it's almost taken it a few times? About Sealview?"

"Stop."

Elliot pauses, then says quietly, "Reed doesn't know you at all, Liv."

"You're wrong," she says, but her voice wavers.

"He'll never know you like I do." He's trying to tell her what she means to him, but she's too stubborn to hear it.

"Maybe not. But Henry's good to me."

If he hears that phrase—that excuse—one more fucking time. . .

"I need a bathroom break," she adds.

And just like that, the door's open and she's gone.

Olivia comes back and passes a cup of hot coffee into his hands.

Confused, he looks at the coffee, then at her. "Is this bad juju coffee?"

" 'Bad juju'?"

He gives a half-smile at her raised eyebrow, trying to ease the tension between them. "Did you pee in it or something?"

She grabs the cup, rolling her eyes. She takes a short sip, then hands it back. "Satisfied?"

"Thanks."

He eyes her empty hands. "You still staying away from caffeine?"

She nods, but her gaze is fixed on the building in front of them. Good. One of them should focus on the job. Elliot's more interested in how her shoulders slump, how her head tilts toward her chest and how the rims of her eyes are a dull pink, like she's been crying.

"What's up?" he asks.

"Nothing."

Her response is too quick. "Somethin's wrong."

"It's nothing I want to discuss."

"Now?"

She doesn't respond.

He prods. "Is it about Reed?"

"Just drop it, Elliot," she snaps.

"Would you stop PMSing for a second? I just wanna know what's wrong."

Olivia closes her eyes and bites her lower lip as if prepping herself for pain.

"What'd I say?"

"Elliot, please."

"What's the matter with you?"

"It's personal. Leave it at that."

" 'Personal?'" he asks.

"Sometimes I wonder if you ever really lived with four women."

Her mumblings confuse him even more. Then realization dawns and he feels like an idiot. "Oh, that kind of personal."

Elliot falls silent, wondering why it's such a big deal. It's not like her to be so hormonal. He knows she can't be embarrassed; he used to know her cycle like clockwork. The only reason getting her cycle would be this upsetting. . .no.

No. No. No.

But all the signs point in that direction—the healthy diet, losing weight, avoiding caffeinated beverages. All those 'vitamins' she's been taking. He can't believe he overlooked them.

"You're trying to get pregnant?" He sounds every bit as shocked as he feels.

Olivia's eyes go wide. Apparently this is another secret she was trying to keep from him.

"Yes."

Elliot can't wrap his head around the concept. An engagement ring is one thing, but a baby? That's a life changer. He fumbles with words, but finally asks, "And Reed? How does he feel about it?"

Olivia remains silent.

"Liv, he knows. . .right?"

"He knows I'm not on birth control. That it's a possibility."

Elliot can't believe the words coming out of her mouth. This has to be some kind of mid-life crisis. That's the only thing that would explain her losing her mind like this.

"That's not the same as wanting a kid."

"I want a child."

"That doesn't mean you can lie to Reed."

She doesn't say anything for a few minutes. Then she says, "Last year, when we were on the Bernardi case. . . .It really changed things for me."

Elliot keeps himself from interrupting her. She closes her eyes and, for a moment, the current case is forgotten.

"The daughter of a suspect, Fidelia Vidal, told me I was jealous of her because she was pregnant. Said I was too old to have children. She was right."

"Olivia, you are not old."

"I'm forty-one, El. I don't exactly have time to play with."

It's a valid argument, but he still thinks she's going about this the wrong way. "It's not right. Lying to Reed."

"I wasn't asking for your opinion."

She refocuses her attention on the building across the street. Elliot backs off, giving her time to breathe.

Another hour of waiting and watching—of silence—goes by.

Elliot feels like he should say something, something supportive. Even if he doesn't agree with her.

"Give it time," he says, picking up the thread of their earlier conversation.

She follows him. "What if I run out of time? What if I've missed my chance? What if I can't get pregnant, El?"

"You will."

"Do you have any idea how low the statistics are for women over forty conceiving and having a healthy pregnancy? And that doesn't even include the possible health complications for the baby."

Elliot knows the odds. He knows they're not in her favor. It's clear she's scared, scared in a way that he's never seen her before.

He reaches across the space between them and finds her hand, squeezes it. "Don't think about the statistics. It'll happen. Trust me."

She squeezes back. She doesn't let go.

A/N: So, some of you kinda predicted the pregnancy thing. BUT, she's not pregnant. . .yet. :) Let me know what you thought. And, in case you're wondering, the next chapter won't be up until Wednesday next week (at least that's what I'm shooting for).

In other news, the poll is still open for what I'll be writing next. Just visit my profile to vote.