Elliot sat at his desk the next morning, reading through the autopsy papers for a young victim that the medical examiner, Melinda Warner, had faxed to him a few minutes earlier. His eyes were heavy and his mind was elsewhere. The medical terminology seemed like nothing but jargon to him.

"Well you look like hell," Olivia teased as she walked into the precinct.

He looked up from his desk as his partner sat down at her own desk across from him. His bloodshot eyes burned.

"I didn't sleep well last night," he told her simply.

"Girlfriend keeping you up?" She wondered with raised eyebrows.

"Yeah," he sighed. "But not in that way."

"No?" She questioned, looking through the notes left on her desk.

"We had a, uh, pregnancy scare," he said quietly, not wanting others to hear him.

Olivia's eyes widened as she looked back up at Elliot. "Just a scare?"

"Yeah," he answered. "False positive, she's not pregnant."

"You'd think after four kids, you'd be more careful with your super swimmers," she joked, unable to gauge his reaction on the topic.

"You'd think," he nodded.

"I can't really tell how you feel about it," she said.

"Me either," he responded.

"Why not?"

He sighed, not really wanting to talk about it, but knowing he needed to confide in someone. That someone was always Olivia, so he took the opportunity available to him at the moment.

"I just felt conflicted about it," he told her softly. "She really did not want to have a baby, and I was terrified as hell too, but then a part of me kind of wanted another kid. And it would've solidified our relationship."

"How so?" She pressed.

"Well, we would've either had to get serious about it or break up – something definite and certain. None of this vague indefinable shit like we're doing now," he answered.

"Well, I mean, did Johanna break up with you or is she sticking around?" Olivia asked.

"She's sticking around – why?"

"Sounds pretty definite to me," she said.

"What makes you say that?" He wondered.

"Hello," she cried obviously. "She didn't run like hell after a pregnancy scare. That doesn't mean she doesn't want to have a baby with you ever – it just means she doesn't want to have a baby with you right now. If she didn't ever want to have a baby with you, she would've bolted. So I'm thinking she's on the 'definite' side of the fence."

Elliot paused for a moment, looking at his best friend and partner, then said, "Huh. You're right."

"Of course I am," she laughed.

"Thanks, Liv," he sighed. "I feel a lot better now actually."

"You're welcome," she replied. "Just watch that freakishly fast sperm of yours."

Elliot chuckled as Olivia smiled at him, appreciative that he trusted her with the topic enough to share his feelings about it. She understood where he was coming from; her partner had a kind soul and a gentle heart. And she was just glad she could help him.

"You son of a bitch!" Elliot spat as he shoved the disgusting man into the wall of the interrogation room angrily. "You raped and killed your own little girl! You were supposed to protect her!"

"You don't have any proof, pig!" The man, named David Bardwell, teased back with his cheek pressed against the cold painted bricks.

With a death grip on Bardwell's shirt, Elliot pulled him back then slammed him back into the brick wall, leaving a slight cut on his cheek, making the man laugh maniacally.

"Elliot!" Olivia called as she hurried into the room. "Elliot, that's enough, that's enough!" She tried to pull her partner off the man.

Hearing the rather calming voice of his partner, Elliot relaxed, letting go of the man's collar then backing away slowly, guided by Olivia, who was glaring at the man.

"You'll pay for this," Bardwell threatened as he sat back down in the metal chair, smirking. "I'll make you pay."

"Sit. We'll be right back," she told him as she walked out the door with Elliot.

"That son of a bitch did it, Liv; I know he did," Elliot insisted, still worked up from the incident, as they stood next to Casey, who was standing outside the interrogation room as well.

"Unfortunately, he's right though, Elliot. We only have our inkling suspicion; no physical evidence," Casey sighed. "We have to let him go until we build up enough of a case against him."

"I'm not letting him out of here. He's got three other daughters at home – I don't trust him with them," Elliot protested.

Casey sighed again, her thoughts reeling with ideas of how to hold the man until they could work up enough of a case. "I'll try to come up with something. Olivia, take a shot at him. Elliot, take a break, please."

"I'm fine," he insisted.

"Take a break," Casey demanded again. "He'll end up being able to press charges against you instead of the other way around if you don't calm down."

"I got him, El," Olivia assured him, as she entered the room to take her partner's place.

Casey patted Elliot on the back gently. "I know you've got daughters, it's hard not to get worked up."

Elliot just nodded as he watched Olivia talk to the man, trying to intimidate him.

David Bardwell had played them and played them good. He sent the detectives on a wild goose chase for the rapist and killer of his precious daughter. He seemed quite distraught at first, but after throwing out all of his daughter's belongings only a week after her death, Elliot and Olivia became suspicious. And when he tried to assault Elliot when they approached him outside his home, they brought him in for questioning where they saw an alarming new side of him. Though they had no physical evidence connecting him to the crime yet, his behavior was enough to convince the team of his actions.

"Elliot, can I see you in my office for a minute?" Don Cragen requested as he poked his head around the corner.

"Sure," Elliot sighed, knowing he was about to be reprimanded for his outburst a few moments earlier.

Casey gave him a knowing and sympathetic glance as he walked away from her and toward the Captain's office.

"Have a seat," Don insisted as he sat down at his own desk.

Elliot sat across from him. "I lost it, I'm sorry, Cap."

"I know," Don said. "I think the man is just as guilty as you do."

"So then what's this about?" Elliot wondered.

"IAB has been watching you closely, Elliot," Don informed. "They've been hinting to me that you've been working too much and that it's taking a toll on your mental health."

Elliot scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"I don't agree with it either, but it doesn't matter what I think. They aren't going to be happy when they find out about you slamming Bardwell against the wall like that."

"So what?" Elliot shrugged. "They'll fire me?"

"They've been wanting you to take a leave of absence," Don informed him bluntly. "I've been able to put it off, but this little mishap with Bardwell might be enough to convince them you need one."

Elliot paused then shook his head. "No way. I'm not doing it."

"Look, you've got two weeks of paid vacation built up for the year that you haven't used a minute of yet," Don said. "I can't make you take it, but if IAB comes to me wanting you to take a leave of absence, I can defend that you agree you've been working too much, so you're using your PTO to take a break, and they won't mandate a leave of absence."

"But I'm basically taking a leave of absence anyway?"

"You deserve a break, Elliot," Don insisted. "This way, IAB is happy, you can enjoy a well-deserved break, and you avoid all the paperwork and a mandated leave of absence on your record."

Elliot sighed and rubbed his neck, knowing that his Captain was technically right. If he cared about keeping his job, which he did, he would have to comply. "Can I at least wait until we nail Bardwell to this case?"

Don chuckled at the intense dedication the detective had for his cases. "Sure."

"Okay," Elliot relented as he stood from his chair. "I'll do it."

Don nodded, and watched as Elliot stood from his chair and walked over to the door.

When he opened the door he turned back to his captain and said, "Thanks, Cap. You know, for not making me take leave."

"Just promise me you'll take a real vacation and just relax those two weeks," Don instructed.

"Yeah," Elliot nodded. "You got it."

He walked out of the Captain's office, appreciative of his boss having his back like that, but disappointed – he was afraid he was going to go stir crazy if he was away from his job for two weeks.

Elliot met Johanna at the bar that night to commence their usual Thursday night of pool. His tie was loose around his neck and his shirt was unkempt and slightly unbuttoned – he seemed a little more ragged than usual; his day had been stressful and exhausting. After his meeting with his Captain, he spent the rest of the day with Olivia and Casey, trying to build a case against Bardwell. Their attempts were unsuccessful and they had no choice but to let Bardwell go home to his daughters, but they weren't giving up.

"We don't have to keep playing," Johanna insisted when they finished their second game of pool, noticing how tired and quiet Elliot had been all night.

"One more round," he protested. "It keeps my mind busy."

"What's going on?" She wondered as he set up the pool table for a new game.

"Internal Affairs told my Captain they want me to take a leave of absence because they think I'm working too much; they think it's making me lash out, which is ridiculous," Elliot explained, though he knew deep down that they were right. "I've got two weeks of paid time off that I haven't touched yet, so Cap suggested I take it soon to make IAB back off."

"Honestly, Elliot," Johanna replied as she watched him take the first turn. "I think it's a good idea. I know you love staying busy with work, but you deserve a good break. And it's better than having to take a leave of absence."

"I guess," he shrugged. "I just don't know what I'm going to do for those two weeks."

"Let's go somewhere!" She suggested, leaning across the pool table to take her turn. "Let's go on a real vacation."

He was surprised that she was insinuating they go on a trip together, like a real couple, but he was pleased by it. He noticed that after her dramatic pregnancy scare a few weeks ago she really seemed like she was coming around to the idea of being in a real relationship. "Where? Like the beach?" He asked.

"If you want," she responded.

"I don't even know of any good beaches to go to," he admitted, taking his turn. "The beaches around here aren't great."

"If you're up for flying, the beaches in Florida are to die for," she told him. "I went once as a kid – that's probably my best childhood memory. White sand, blue water, it's gorgeous."

"I'll go wherever you want to go," he said sweetly.

She smiled at his response then took her turn. "Let's do it then. I'll start looking everything up tomorrow if you want."

"Yeah, I'm clearly not good at planning trips," he chuckled.

"When do you want to go?" She asked.

"Cap told me I could wait until we finish this case, so let's shoot for a month from now? Early May?" He suggested, seeking her approval.

"Perfect," she agreed. "I hear it's not too crowded then."

He smiled, feeling much more relaxed and excited about his forced vacation. He was expecting to be stuck inside his house, losing his mind for two weeks. But the thought of being on pearly white beaches with his gorgeous girlfriend made him feel euphoric.

He couldn't wait.