Lyrics from: My One and Only Love, John Coltrane & I've Got You Under My Skin, Frank Sinatra.

Recognizable quotes from Law and Order:SVU.

Chapter 4: Why Dancing IS Not Torture – Although It Might Seem Like It

In which Olivia and Hank dance and some things are realized.

Olivia Benson had never been a fan of dancing. While she wasn't rhythmically challenged at all – far from it – she had never really enjoyed it. At least with her previous partners. And Brian had never wanted to dance at all. He used to say that he looked like a monkey and c'mon, Liv, dancing lessons? He'd rather hear fingernails go down a chalkboard or get beat up by an informant. If there was a choice between dancing and water boarding, Brian would choose water boarding. Every. Single. Time.

So they had never done the dance lesson thing. And, after Lewis, well, dancing had been the last thing on her mind.

So the thought of getting up in front of literally hundreds of people made her sweat. She could collar a perp with no problem, interrogate a serial killer and rapist without breaking a sweat. But dancing? At a formal Gala in front of her boss? In front of New York's richest families? She'd rather walk across a mat of burning hot coals. That'd be far less painful.

And far less awkward. Plus, it was Hank Voight. As much as she liked him – and from that moment in his hotel room, it was clear just how much he liked her too – the thought of being that close to him in public made her apprehensive. What if those people could see the sparks between them? What if they started speculating about the nature of their relationship? She wasn't ready for that.

Maybe this whole date thing with Voight had been a huge mistake. Taking a large swallow of her expensive red wine (hell, if she was going to do this thing, she was not going to get through it without alcohol), Olivia wondered if she would have been better off taking someone like Munch. They were friends still, comfortable and from time to time, she stop down and visit the bar he finally opened in his semi-retirement.

She could just imagine his pithy and snarky commentary about the various people coming in the room.

How she missed him.

I miss you most of all, too, old friend.

Or Nick. She could have called Nick who, despite being thousands of miles away on the West Coast, would have happily come back to help her out. It had broken her heart a little more than it already had been after Elliot's departure when Nick had chosen to get out and move to be closer to Gil and Zara. She couldn't blame him; he really had no future with the NYPD except behind a desk. And that was a waste for him.

But Olivia still talked to Nick on a regular basis and he was happy there. He had started reevaluating things with Gil's mother and while they weren't super serious yet, they were finding that the connection they had back when he was undercover wasn't totally gone. It was good to hear him happy.

Because of you, I have a family.

"A penny for your thoughts?" Voight sat down besides her, whiskey neat in hand.

"They're not worth that much." She smiled.

"Bullshit. I bet they're worth at least a nickel." He grinned at her.

"Well, well," she cocked an eyebrow at him, "this Voight looks better than the one who earlier looked like I was marching him to his execution."

"Alcohol can do wonders." Voight raised his glass.

"It sure can." Olivia took another generous sip of her wine.

"You sure you don't want some of this?" Hank winked at her. "Get's the job done faster."

Olivia hesitated. The last thing she wanted to do was be intoxicated in front of her bosses but a couple of drinks wouldn't hurt. She knew her tolerance. And a sip of whiskey certainly would be okay.

So she took it out of Voight's hand and took a large sip.

And spluttered.

Voight chuckled.

She gave him a beady-eyed stare – much like the ones he'd often see on Noah. Like mother, like son. Two peas in a pod.

"Let me explain something, Benson, since it looks like you don't drink whiskey much." He said, with a smirk. "You normally sip it."

"Bite me, Henry Voight." She snapped, still spluttering a little. But he was right. It had been a while since she had had whiskey. And she had set herself up for that.

You make it so easy for him, Benson. She sighed to herself. But, truth be told, she didn't mind.

She rather enjoyed the teasing and sparring.

"Oh, trust me," He winked at her, "there'll be plenty of that later."

"Hank Voight!" She whispered, looking around. "Not here."

"Oh, loosen up." He took another swig from his whiskey.

And that's when the music started to play. Olivia admitted that they had done a really wonderful job with the band – some big name group from the City that did a variety of music, jazz, old big band favorites, some modern tunes. Before she knew it, she found her foot tapping to one songs that she had remembered her mother playing, in one of those moments when Serena hadn't been totally lost to the alcohol.

"Come dance with me, Olivia." And Serena had taken the little Olivia's hands and started dancing with her. The two of them had danced all over their small apartment and Serena had been smiling, really smiling...one of the few times Olivia remembered her doing so.

"Come back to me, Olivia." Voight nudged her gently.

"Sorry." She smiled apologetically. "Got lost in the music, I guess." And she found herself telling Voight about that memory. Wasn't sure why she did...must be the red wine and whiskey loosening her tongue.

"This song," she told him quietly, "brought me back to one of the few times that I can remember being truly happy." The look in her eyes was nostalgic, there was a softness there that Voight really only saw sometimes with him and all of the time with Noah. "It's not that I'm unhappy or miserable all the time." She quickly explained. "But there are those times when everything seems perfect, just little moments that stay crystalized in your memory because they're pure joy."

"I have a few of those." Voight said quietly. He didn't elaborate.

He and Camille on their wedding day, twirling around the dance floor. Back before he had developed two left feet. Her blue eyes shining up into his, a smile so brilliant it could light the whole dance floor. Which, admittedly, wasn't too big since their reception place was small. It was all they could really afford in those days.

He reached for her hand and said quietly. "Dance with me."

Olivia hesitated only a little bit – oh, God, this could be terrible – but then put her hand in his.

It was time to take a leap of faith.

…...

The shadows fall
And spread their mystic charms
In the hush of night
While you're in my arms
I feel your lips so warm and tender
My one and only love

Few moments in life we remember as perfect. And Hank Voight could probably list all of his on one hand, two if he really stretched it. His happiest moments had been restricted to Camille, Justin (and now Olive and Joseph Henry) and Erin.

But this moment here, now, with Benson in his arms? This was coming pretty damn close to being as perfect a moment as one man could have. He could see the envying looks from police officers in their formal dress blues, many of them decidedly not single. Hank hadn't missed the stunned look on their faces when they had first entered the room.

Olivia Benson was breathtaking. Clothed in silver moonlight, she put the other women in the room to shame, most of whom were sticking with the safe choice of black. And he had been proud that this woman was his. (He kept that thought to himself, though – Olivia Benson was really nobody's and she'd smack him if she even thought he had thought that.)

I'm my own, he could imagine her telling him tartly, I don't belong to anyone.

Least of all to a rough-around-the-edges, not-just-bend-the-rules-but-break-them cop from Chicago.

Well, even if she wasn't his in the strictest sense of the word, he was hers. At least for the night. And he was going to make the most of it, dammit.

So he pulled her in close to him, her warm body flush against his. And they started swaying to the music, his hand rough but gentle on her bare back, breath warm against her ear.

…...

Olivia had truly dreaded this part. She had dreaded the idea of going out to the dance floor and embarrassing herself. And, to be honest, she had had no idea whether Hank was even a decent dancer or not so she was dreading that too. But she wouldn't tell him that. And she certainly wasn't going to say no because she was afraid of humiliating herself.

Olivia realized that she had a tendency to play things safe. Most people did. It was frightening to be in an unfamiliar place where you can be terrifyingly vulnerable. So many eyes watching you, not missing one mistake that you make. And that was really why she hated these things. She felt so exposed. At work, at home, she was comfortable. She knew the territory and the people.

But the eyes of elitist strangers eyeing her every move? Terrifying as all hell.

However, when she looked up at Hank, and saw the look in his eyes – hell, he was just as nervous as she was – she made up her mind. She wasn't going to let him them intimidate her. To hell with all those people gawking at her – and her cleavage – oh, yes, she hadn't missed the ogling – she was going to dance with Hank Voight, dammit, and it was going to be spectacular.

And to her surprise, it was.

Much better than nails on a chalkboard. And certainly better than water boarding.

Voight pulled her close and it was...it was comfortable. Almost like coming home. And he was good. The man could really dance. And it felt natural.

Definitely not like torture.

She pulled back a little and smiled at him.

"You never fail to surprise me, Hank Voight."

"What?" He said, mock-hurt. "You thought I was going to dance all over your feet?"

"The thought had occurred to me." Olivia smirked.

"Hey, I might not be able to tie a goddamned bow tie, but it doesn't mean I'm totally lacking in class." He said, indignantly.

She grinned.

"Okay, maybe slightly lacking in class. But my point stands." He grumbled.

And Olivia Benson laughed. A rich, straight-from-the belly laugh.

And that moment was when Hank Voight realized he was head over heels for this gorgeous, smart, take-no-prisoners, New York cop.

When she laughed. That goddamned sweet, breathtaking, sunburst of laughter.

But, hell, he'd be damned if let her know.

They were just friends.

Or whatever this was.

So he kept smiling, laughed with her, pulled her in close after a twirl, and pretended his life hadn't irrevocably changed.

…...

"Okay, maybe slightly lacking in class. But my point still stands." Hank grumbled that out and Olivia stared at him. And maybe it was the wine and whiskey but she started to laugh. Not just a fake polite laugh but a true, right from the belly laugh. She laughed in a way she hadn't in a very long time.

Since before Lewis.

And as she tried to repress her giggles, she noticed something in his eyes. Like he was seeing her for the first time. And that what he was seeing was beautiful and remarkable and everything he could have asked for. And the look in his eyes took her aback.

And it scared her a little. She'd seen that look before.

I'm not going anywhere.

I love you.

I love you too, Brian, always will.

We're partners. For better or worse.

But, instead of running (which she could have done but what would have been hell in her Jimmy Choos), she went into his arms instead.

And looked in his eyes again, scanning them closely. And what she saw didn't frighten her.

Because she felt it too. And it felt right.

He pulled her tight against her, almost an embrace, and they kept dancing.

And it was at that moment Olivia Benson's life changed irrevocably.

She was in love with him.

But, hell, she'd be damned if she told him.

…...

I've tried so not to give in

You know I said to myself, This affair ain't gonna go so well

Oh but why should I try to resist, when baby, I know so well

That I've got you way under my skin