Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.

It had been three hours since Fin's cryptic phone call. Two and half since Elliot's even more ambiguous phone call to his kids. One since Olivia had taken a shower, hoping to wash away the grime of the past few days, the confusion of the last twenty-four hours, and the smell of Elliot that had seeped into her every pore. That attempt was in vain, because Elliot had joined her, surprising her by working sweet-smelling shampoo into her scalp, while working himself into her body.

Now, dried, dressed, and well-sated, they sat on the couch, waiting for another phone call, drinking coffee and watching a made-for-TV movie that seemed more like a recap of an old case.

"You okay?" He asked the question right into her ear, just before taking her earlobe into his mouth, sucking for just a moment, and then licking the thin skin behind her ear. He couldn't help it; he needed to kiss, touch, love every inch of her, now that he was allowed. He sighed, kissing down her neck, dreading the moment they'd be thrust back into normalcy, when he couldn't have her whenever he wanted, when he had to pretend she wasn't already his.

Her eyes fluttered shut as she felt him nip at her throat, and she moaned softly for him. "Better now," she replied, a small smile pulling at her lips. "What about you?"

"Fucking perfect," he mumbled as his teeth dragged along the skin of her shoulder. He moved, then, curling into her. He reached behind him blindly and put his coffee mug down on the table, grabbed hers out of her hand and did the same, and then pulled her quickly, settling her on top of him as he sat back. He pried his lips away from her soft skin and looked into her eyes as she shifted into a perfect straddle, over him. "I don't want to say I'm enjoying this, but I really fucking am." He laughed and ran his fingers through her hair.

"Yeah," she sighed, dropping her forehead against his. "We needed this, you and me." She kissed the end of his nose and tilted her head. "But if I'm being honest, here, I hate not being out there, after this guy."

"Me, too," he nodded in agreement, still playing with her soft waves. He looked at the hair curled around his fingers, for the first time really noticing the vast array of colors, each strand slightly different in texture, blending to make a color that he was unable to name. It wasn't brown, it wasn't red, there were flecks of gold and streaks of copper, and it was so perfectly Olivia. He let his eyes trail along the curves of her chest as it heaved an inch in front of him before popping up to meet her slightly insecure gaze. "Don't do
that," he whispered, craning his neck to reach her lips. He kissed her once. "Not with me."

She bit her lip, took a breath, and relaxed into his hold, sinking against his body. "It's hard not to," she said with a small shrug. "I'm jaded and bitter," she chuckled softly, "With a badge, a gun, and a five-cup-a-day coffee habit. Relationships aren't easy for me, and for a long time now, there was only one that meant anything to me." She looked into his eyes. "You. You were always the only one that mattered," she told him. "The one that I thought...I had myself convinced that there was a better chance of me winning the lottery on the same day I got struck by lightning and found out I was really a princess, than there ever was of me being here, with you, like this."

He laughed and kissed her again. "God, I thought I'd have to watch you marry some schmuck lawyer, or dimwit doctor," he shook his head and narrowed his eyes just a bit. "I wouldn't have survived that. I saw the moments slipping away, the chances flying by, and I had to do something before I went completely crazy." He pressed his lips to hers
once more. "I will never be able to thank God enough that you feel the same way I do." He watched the rosy tones wash over her cheeks, and he couldn't help but laugh. "Olivia Benson? Blushing? Because of me? Damn," he quipped, kissing her again. He didn't part with her so quickly this time, instead he smoothed his hands up her back and splayed his palms over her, pressing her into him, holding her where he wanted her. The kiss deepened, darkened, years of unexpressed emotion and two days-worth of gratitude came to a head in this one, soul-crushing kiss.

She whimpered into his mouth, rising up a bit to get even closer to him. Her hands fisted the cotton of his tee shirt, her heart pounding so hard against her chest she was certain he could feel it against his, and she felt everything he'd hoped she would. More.

He slowed his kiss, languidly washing his tongue over hers, his lips sealing tightly with hers. Finally, he moved away, not because he wanted the kiss to end, but because oxygen had become a necessity. Panting, he rested his head against hers, his hands crawling back up her neck to tangle in her hair. "I love you," he breathed.

"I know," she nodded, just as breathless. "I love you, too."

They remained, just as they were, for a long, blissful moment. The television became mere white noise, their surroundings a blur, as all their focus was solely on each other. Her eyes closed, she felt his arms wrap even tighter around her, and she wished, harder than she ever had for anything, that she'd never have to move.

Wishes, sadly, don't come true so often. The doorbell rang, causing her head to pop up and Elliot to freeze beneath her. "El," she whispered.

He nodded, rising off the couch with her still firmly wrapped around his waist. He carried her a few feet before letting her slide down his body. He kissed her hard as he gripped the handle of his gun at his hip and took the short walk to the front door. He looked through the peep-hole, and then cursed as he rolled his eyes and dropped his guard. He opened the door with a rough-edged, "What the hell happened to calling first?"

"Couldn't risk it," Cragen said, pushing Elliot aside and stepping into the living room. "Darcy and Montgomery are still outside, they haven't left, and they wont. You're their priority."

"Cap," Elliot said, dragging a hand down his face, "You didn't come all the way out here to tell us our protective detail is doing their jobs."

"No," Cragen said, sitting on the couch with a huff, "I didn't." He pulled two large envelopes out of his jacket's inside-pocket. "First," he pointed a finger at Elliot, "Why didn't I know you filed for divorce?"

Elliot raised an eyebrow and scoffed. "Are you shitting me?" he spat. "Because you didn't need to know, not until it was finalized and I had to update shit at work. Why, is that a problem?"

Cragen shot Elliot a warning glare and nodded once in Olivia's direction. "You tell me."

"Jesus, no," Elliot shot back, narrowing his eyes and folding his arms. "Why are you bringing this up?"

"Here," Cragen said, tossing Elliot one of the envelopes. "You need to sign that. I told the judge I'd get that back to him by tonight. Your, uh, situation here...made it easy for him to expedite things.

Immediately, and eagerly, Elliot tore open the envelope, walking fast over to a small table near the door. He opened a drawer, pulled out a pen, and made sure he signed and initialed every required spot. He folded the papers back up and brought them back over to Cragen. "Thanks," he said, nodding. He gave Olivia a furtive glance and small grin, licked his lips, and looked back at Cragen. "That it?"

"Hardly," Cragen said. He sighed and looked back at Olivia, this time with more fear than anger in his eyes. "You know Koheler is dead."

Olivia nodded. "Fin told us this morning," she said.

"He tell you how?" Cragen asked. There was a thin layer of sweat forming on the aging man's forehead, his lips trembled as he spoke, and he shifted in his seat.

Elliot furrowed his brow, looking at his captain. "No," he said. He moved over to Olivia, took her by the arm, and led her to the couch. "You don't look so good, Cap, what's wrong?" He sat, pulling Olivia down to sit beside him, both of them turned inward to face Cragen,

"Air embolism," Cragen said shortly. "Someone injected him with a syringe full of nothing but air, and until Warner found the pinhole it was deemed a heart-attack, do you understand what I'm saying?"

Olivia's eyebrows knotted and she shot Elliot a hard look. "Spevak's dead," she said, a question mark forming on her face. She looked back at Cragen. "You're saying Haven didn't kill him?"

"Haven is still after the two of you, and thanks to some strategic planted evidence and fake phone calls, we're leading him in the wrong direction," Cragen said, biting his lip. "When you two worked the Spevak case, do you remember what Emma Spevak said to you when you booked her?"

"Something about...her victims, she called them all 'Mama,' but what the hell does that case have to do with this one?" Olivia asked, her hands tightening around Elliot's arm.

"We didn't look far enough into her background," Cragen said, handing Olivia the other envelope he'd brought with him. "Emma was a mama herself. A son. She gave him up for adoption because, well, his conception wasn't exactly planned."

Olivia opened the envelope and unfolded the thick packet of papers. She read the first page, and then turned it so Elliot could read the rest with her. "Holy shit," she said, her head popping up. "So this Haven guy is her son," she said.

Cragen swallowed hard and nodded. "He found out about her when he started dating Chelsea Koehler, he was helping her reorganize her grandfather's office and stumbled upon a couple of write-ups," he paused, and he pointed at them. "You two, after he read the truth about his mommy dearest, became his target."

"So he agrees to help Koehler kill us, but then, what?" Elliot muses. "Doesn't want a trail, no witness, so the girl and the judge have to go?"

Cragen nodded. "That's what we're thinking," he said. "At any rate, we'll find out tonight. We set him up, he thinks he's gonna find you, but we'll be waiting for him."

Olivia saw him getting up, but grabbed his sleeve. "Wait," she said, looking up at her captain. "Why did you tell us all of this? In a case like this, we aren't supposed to know."

Cragen sighed, smiled at the woman he thought of like a daughter, and he said, "You needed to know why, that it wasn't your fault. I know you, both of you, and you've been sitting in this house for three days, trying to figure out who you pissed off, feeling guilty for putting each other in danger, am I right?"

Elliot looked at Olivia, and then sheepishly grinned and shrugged at Cragen. "Pretty much." He looked back at Olivia and winked. That wasn't all they were doing. He turned back to Cragen, and as he watched the man head for the door, he asked, "One more thing, Cap. Who, uh, who told Kathy where we were? Before, I mean, when we were at the first house."

Cragen's eyes closed, he let out a hard breath. He'd been hoping Elliot wouldn't ask that question. "We figured it out, and I handled it, so please, just..."

"Cap," Elliot interrupted. "You know, I need to know. Anyone who'd put me and Liv at risk like that...I have a right to know who we're running from, here."

"Tyler," Cragen said, "Koehler's son."

Peace and Love

Jo

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