Olivia wakes first, the sun starting to light Elliot's bedroom through the curtains like it did earlier in the week. She was able to get her visual fill of him that morning, but this morning, now that they've crossed the physical line in their relationship, she has another idea.

He's resting on his back, slightly turned towards her. She loves the calm, relaxed look that graces his face. It doesn't detract from the masculinity and strength he projects, even in his sleep, but instead, it draws her to him.

The scent of his soap lingers in the morning air, complementing the smell of sleep and linens. She fills her nostrils with the aroma of him as she leans in closely and kisses along his jaw and neck, letting his beard tickle her cheeks and lips.

Olivia moves slowly, hoping to ease him from his slumber. Her lips find his clavicle and then his pec. He rolls to lay flat on his back, still asleep. Her hands scratch over his belly soothingly and tease the sensitive skin above the waistband of his briefs, not yet touching his morning erection. She wants him lucid before she reaches for that part of him.

She feels him groan under her when she licks over his nipple. His voice is gravelly and sleep-filled when he calls to her. "Hmmm, Liv."

"Mornin'," she answers coyly and continues to kiss down the center of his chest.

Elliot moves his hands to lay stretched out on the bed as if her lips have crucified him.

"What you doin'?" he asks, barely audible in his low tone.

"It's a bit obvious, isn't it?" she answers with a quick look up to his face before touching her lips to the middle of his belly (abs, really) and then right above his waistband. His head is still flat on his pillow and his eyes haven't opened yet.

"Feels good. Com'ere." He waves his hand lazily, gesturing for her to meet him at his pillow. "Wanna kiss you g'morning."

Olivia grins to herself before lifting the blankets off his legs and situating herself between them.

Elliot finally opens his eyes, surprise beating out sleep. "Liv?"

"Up," she answers, tapping his hip.

He follows her instructions and lets her pull his briefs down enough to uncover his cock, hard and damp at the tip.

"Liv?" he asks again.

She looks up at him, only slightly annoyed. "Are you gonna question me the whole time?"

Elliot chuckles and rests a hand on the back of her neck, cupping the base of her skull, his thumb rubbing at the side of her neck gently. "Guess not. I just wanted to make sure. I don't… I mean, damn."

"Shhhh," she shushes him as she lowers her head to kiss the juncture of his hips, tickling the sensitive skin with her tongue. "I'll stop if you want."

"God, no," he answers on a deep exhale and lays his head back on the pillow, eyes on the ceiling.

Olivia breathes him in, his soap scent lingering here as well, but combined with a more musky, manly scent that brings her back to after their first night together when sex filled the air.

She starts slowly, deliberately. Lifting his cock off his belly, she kisses it closed-mouthed up to the tip before swirling her tongue around him.

His hips lift off the bed as he grunts. "Sorry."

"S'okay," she offers and kisses down him.

Once more, she kisses back up, but she takes him between her lips this time, sucking shallowly after she runs her tongue around his ridge.

With one hand on his base, holding him up, she moves deeper and deeper with each bob of her head, her tongue wetting him further and further. His hand stays resting on the back of her neck, moving with her, but his eyes are closed tightly now.

"Shit," he exhales.

"Okay?"

"So much more than okay," he answers, adding a gentle pressure on her neck guiding her back to him.

She grins and takes him into her mouth, sucking and swirling her tongue. She pulls back once more to lick him up and down. To tease him, really.

Using both hands, she slides her palms up and down, gripping loosely and giving his cock a couple of twists as she moves lower and licks at his balls and then nips at his inner thighs.

Even though they've only been together twice, his tells are obvious. He's enjoying this—a lot. And by the tension in his thighs and the way it feels as if his hips are coiling for an explosion, she can tell it won't take long before he's done.

"Liv," he groans out, almost pained. "Please."

She likes that he begs during sex, that he is so desperate to feel her, be inside her, that he's not above pleading for her.

Olivia considers teasing him more, making him ask for exactly what he wants. But they don't really have time for that this morning.

Pushing that sad thought from her mind, she takes him back into her mouth deeply. Knowing that she'll have more time to explore and tease in the future, she works him quickly and with renewed vigor, her cheeks hollowing with the pressure. One hand cups him below, and the other strokes and twists at the base of his cock.

She hears him groan again, panting, "Shit… baby… Oh, feels so damn good," from above as she bobs her head and sucks him.

In just a few deep passes, she can feel his balls pull tight and his cock harden even further.

"Liv," he warns, tugging, not so gently, at the hair at the base of her skull.

She lifts up and strokes him quickly, and watches as he cums, hard, ejaculating over his stomach and chest.

Elliot's chest heaves as his hands tug her up by her armpits, pulling her to his side. Breathless and sloppy he kisses her.

"Goddamn, Liv," he pants when he pulls back, letting his head collapse to his pillow.

She snuggles into his neck, kissing him there again before pulling back and giving him space to catch his breath. She looks around his room for something for him to use to clean up with. She finds a box of Kleenex on the bedside table and pulls a few.

"Here," she says, as she offers them to him.

He chuckles as he takes them from her and starts to wipe up his stomach. "Thanks. Gimme just a minute and I'll repay the favor in the shower."

"We don't have time for that."

"Liv, I've always got time for you, and for that."

She smiles at his cocky, post-coital tone. "Not this time, El. You need to get to the airport. And I think your mom and Kathleen are up."

"So?" He fights back.

"Just not this time," she says with finality in her voice.

He concedes with a quick, "Fine," and a kiss to her lips. "Whatever you say."

Elliot walks Olivia to her car after they share a quick breakfast of coffee and a blueberry muffin from the neighborhood grocer with Kathleen and Bernie.

"Are you sure that you don't want me to drive you to the airport?" Olivia asks him when she reaches her driver's side door.

"I'm sure," Elliot answers for what feels like the fifth time. "You need to get back to work. Plus, you had to drive so much yesterday."

"I don't mind," she assures him.

Elliot shakes his head, and crowds her to her car. "I know. I just… I can't explain. It's hard enough to say good-bye now."

She meets his eyes, seeing how torn he looks. "I get it."

"Do you?" he asks as he rests a hand on the hood of her car and leans in. "It's not that I don't want more time with you. It's just too hard."

"Okay," she answers on a whisper before his lips touch hers.

It's well past midnight when Olivia finally returns to her apartment. She and her squad have spent all day working through as many BX9 cases involving Sampson they could get through before she had sent them all home with orders to eat, sleep, and return by 9:00 a.m. so they can start again. She wants to be ready when the inevitable calls start coming in about the gang's new activities and victims. And, if she's honest with herself, she needs to be at work so she'll be the first to hear of the All Clear to go get Noah.

It's not the first time that she's come home to an empty apartment. For years, decades really, she's lived alone and reveled in her peace and solitude, taking pride in being self-sufficient and having her own space.

But for the last twelve years, she's shared her space with her son. And even though he's left her home alone for sleepovers at the McCanns before, tonight feels so different. She's missing more than Noah. She's afraid for more than just herself and her son.

There is a different ache in her chest, a pining that she knows won't go away until Elliot comes home for good.

She'd been worried about this when they started getting closer and when they became intimate just a few days ago—that she'd struggle to let him go and she'd not be able to keep herself composed while he was gone.

She wants nothing more than to soak in a hot bath with wine and then wallow a bit under her cozy comforter, but she knows she can't. She needs food, which she doesn't have in her apartment, and a good night's sleep, which she knows she won't get while Noah's upstate and Elliot's 30,000 feet over the Atlantic Ocean. The best she can hope for is some shitty snack food or questionable leftovers and a restless night tossing and turning until her alarm wakes her at 6 a.m.

The next several days pass in a blur of work, eat, sleep, much like wash, rinse, repeat. Elliot texts her when he lands and tells her he loves her. She responds the same, but she can't think of anything else to say so she doesn't.

Olivia facetimes with Noah at night, and each night, he asks if he can come home. Her heart breaks each time she has to tell him not yet.

She uses her work to distract her from the aches in her chest created by her son and her… something, partner maybe, gone for the week and more.

Soon, she knows, they'll have an answer. Gangs' undercover officers and other contacts have to bide their time to get the information that the departments so desperately need. So far, nothing has gotten back to Gangs that Olivia is being targeted again, so that's good. But until she hears, explicitly, that Sampson is not greenlighting her or Noah, she isn't going to bring him home.

Starting two days ago, reports of rapes and sexual assaults on girls and women associated with rival gangs had started coming in through the lower-level UCs, though no official reports to SVU have been made. Olivia isn't surprised, however. That's always been the truth when violence is gang-related—going to the police is not the way to resolve the transgression. Instead, vengeance is usually sought.

That doesn't mean that SVU is slow though. Not by any means. Case after case rolls in as usual. Even though the summertime usually sees the most assaults, the long dark evenings give cover to some criminals, and with the holidays coming up, family-based violence is inevitable.

On several occasions, Olivia has picked up her phone and typed out a message to Elliot, but she's not been able to press send. Something, a fear of bursting their good bubble maybe, stops her from venting to him. If she's honest with herself, she regrets telling him to go back. At night when she crawls in between her cold sheets, she thinks that she could really use his arms to hold her and the rumble of his chest as he assures her that everything will be okay to soothe her to sleep.

"Alright, Elliot, I've given you time to come to me, but you've been so hush-hush since your return," Tia starts as she approaches his desk on his third day back to work. He had flown back five days ago, but he had been given a couple of days to adjust to the time change and get over his jetlag, which was much needed. He had also needed the time to get his head on straight so he could focus on his job and not his missing limbs and heart still back in the states.

But he was glad that he had only had two days, because by the end of the second, he's started going stir-crazy waiting for updates on Noah and Olivia. He wants to text her every hour, but he resigns himself to waiting on her to reach out. He knows she needs space right now, and his pestering will only drive her away from him. At first, he channels his anxiety to Fin. But after a quick promise from the sergeant to update Elliot as soon as he has news, Elliot directs his attention to writing her a letter.

"But I'm running out of patience. I need to know how your trip went," Tia finishes with a bit of a wink.

"It wasn't a trip." He grumbles a little but meets her eyes. "Kathleen was in a serious wreck."

"I know that," Tia answers with a soft touch to his arm. "But I also would bet that Olivia was there to comfort you and make sure everything was taken care of. Am I right?"

Elliot, used to Tia's pestering, and working through his moderate desire to share about his relationship, nods. "She was around for part of the week, though she did have to work and take care of her son."

"Ahhh! I knew it!"

Elliot whips his head around at her exclamation, but most of the office is out at lunch.

"This is not the proper time or place," Tia says quickly, also looking around. "But tonight, we get drinks and talk, yeah?"

"Yeah," he agrees. "That sounds good."

Elliot and Tia agree to meet at a small, local restaurant near his apartment. They've eaten here before, and the waitstaff recalls their orders, bringing them a bottle of wine as they're sat and starting on their entrees immediately.

"So, Elliot. Tell me all about your week."

He shrugs, not wanting to come off as a gossiping school girl, but excitement stirs in his chest, finally able to talk about the positive progression between himself and Olivia. "Not too much to tell. Kathleen was in the hospital for several days, but she is doing alright now at home. The doctors have high hopes for her recovery."

"That is very good. I'm glad that Kathleen is alright. And please don't take this as callous, but that was not the part of the week I was inquiring about."

"I know, Tia," he laughs. "You're nothing if not a bit transparent."

"As are you, wearing your emotions on your shirtsleeves, as they say. But it's for the better. No reason to hide one's true intentions behind perfunctory pleasantries. I can tell from your disposition this week that your pining has reached a new level. An intimate one, I'd say."

Elliot drinks from his glass. "Olivia and I were able to spend some time together. We had dinner at my place and then watched movies with her son, Noah, at her home the next night."

"And now you are suffering without her."

"That's part of it," he agrees with a nod.

"And the other part?"

The server comes by with their food, giving Elliot a moment to decide how to answer.

"Did you hear much about Olivia when you were in New York?" he asks.

"I'd heard of her just in passing. I know she's high ranking in her department, but I don't know the specifics. I didn't know to be asking around about your Olivia while I was there."

He ignores her "your Olivia," comment and continues. "She's Captain of the Special Victims Unit, which investigates sexual assaults, rapes, and the like. She's been in that unit for 25 years now. We were partners when we were both detectives, for over ten years. But while I was here, she rose through the ranks and is now the Captain of the squad."

Tia drinks and takes a bite, waiting for him to continue.

"Last year, a pretty gruesome gang took a hit out on her after she started working on rape cases the gang had perpetrated."

Tia gasps. "Oh, my. But she's okay? Safe?"

"She was. But just a couple of days ago, we learned the gang leader who had called off the hit was murdered and a new leader took over. And the new leader is considering re-issuing past hits."

"What are you doing here?" she asks, eyes bugged.

Elliot shrugs on a deep sigh, taking a bite before answering. "Your guess is as good as mine. I tried to stay, but she wouldn't let me."

"Ah, she's one of those types of women. Doing it all by herself."

"That would be exactly her type."

"Good for her then. But for you…"

"It's miserable," he admits as he takes another bite. "I'm here on another continent and hours apart. I just want to be there for her and her son."

Tia grins and takes another sip of her wine. "Not all of being with her has been miserable, though?"

Elliot blushes faintly as he shakes his head gently. "No, not all of it. There have definitely been some good things."

"Care to elaborate?"

He snorts into his glass.

"Not one to kiss and tell, huh?"

"Not if I want to keep kissing."

"Fine. Fine," Tia concedes with a wave. "Be that way. Just keep your head in the game while you are here. No daydreaming of your sweetie and afternoon delights."

Elliot laughs at that. "I think I can do that."

"But," Tia's tone is more serious now, "if something comes up, we will get you back home. I promise."

"Thank you."

"Damnit, Fin, please tell me you don't need me to come back already," Olivia answers without any pretext as she walks through her front door around 3:30 a.m. the following Tuesday morning. It's been another long and busy night and she's beyond exhausted. On top of trying to keep up with BX9's movements, it's Halloween, so the phones were ringing off the hook with complaints as she left. Plus, she's upset that she's missed the holiday with Noah, who still wanted to go trick-or-treating despite his pre-teen age. Instead, Ginny got the privilege of taking him out (to pre-scouted neighborhoods with an undercover police escort) and it hurts.

"No. No. But word just came in—there's not a hit on you or Noah."

She collapses to the bench beside her front door, coat and bag still in her hands. "Are you sure?"

"As sure as we possibly can be."

"How do we know?" Her voice is desperate and shaking as she asks.

"One of the UCs that was higher up with Oscar Papa was accepted into Sampson's inner circle. There was a big meeting last night."

"Last night! Then why are we just now finding out?"

"He had to wait to get the message out to his contact. That didn't happen until today."

She knows he's right, having been through this process before, waiting and waiting for reports from UCs.

"Oh, thank god," she breathes out, the good news sinking in.

"Yes. You can call the McCanns in the morning and go get your boy."

"Thank you, Fin."

"Nothing to thank me for, Cap. I'm happy to get to relay this news."

It's mid-morning on Tuesday when Elliot's phone buzzes.

No hits.

Liv and Noah are safe.

She's gonna get Noah tomorrow.

Thank God

Thank you for letting me know

You bet.

She's at home now.

Prob could use your call.

Heard

Olivia's barely two steps into her living room when her phone rings again. This time Elliot's face fills her screen.

"Hey, you," Olivia answers, taking in Elliot's smile and a background that looks suspiciously like a foreign interrogation room. Not that she's ever seen one in person.

"I heard the good news."

She makes it to her couch and takes a seat, immediately kicking off her shoes. "It sure traveled fast."

"I paid off Fin."

Olivia gives a soft but exhausted chuckle. "I'm not surprised."

"How are you?" Elliot asks. The sincerity in his voice makes her want to cry, but she's too tired for tears.

"I'm not sure yet," she answers honestly with a soft shake of her head. "I don't think it's sunk in."

"You're safe, Liv. And so is Noah."

She nods, because when he says it, it feels true and absolute. But she still doesn't meet his eyes. "Yeah. For now."

"Whaddya mean?"

Olivia sighs before answering. It's too late to get into this, but she can't help herself. "You know what I mean, Elliot. This job. Noah and I are safe for now, but how long will it be before something like this happens again? Another hit? Another gunshot? Another hostage situation?"

"I don't know," he answers honestly.

"I can't keep this up. I can sense that Noah is so frustrated with me, and rightfully so. I just…"

"Liv," he interrupts, cutting her off before she can work herself into an angry and defeated rant. "You're not wrong. But you just had a really stressful week. Don't start having big thoughts about changes right now. Don't make any decisions. You have time to think and make plans."

"Yeah," she agrees softly, sinking further into the couch.

"Whatever you decide, I've got your back."

"I know."

"Good, because once I'm back, I'm not leaving ever again."

"El–"

He shakes his head and continues, looking her straight in the eyes. "I know it's not the time to talk about this. But I want you to know, I'm almost done. I can't keep up with this anymore, either. And I don't want to. I want to be home with my family, and you and Noah."

"El–" She tries again to stop him. If she can't make any big decisions right now given all that's going on, neither can he. Neither of them are thinking with a full and rational brain. And she knows he's at work right now. He doesn't need to be caught talking about quitting at the office.

"I'm sorry. It's not the time. You have to be exhausted."

"I am," she concedes, a yawn breaking through.

"Okay. Okay," he gives in. "I'll let you go."

"Thanks. I need to shower and eat."

"You do those things and then sleep, Liv. Get a good night's rest, and then you can go pick up Noah."

"Yeah."

He smiles, almost ornery, as if he's reading her mind. "I mean it. I know you are tempted to set your alarm for 6:00 a.m. just to get on the road. But Noah's okay in Woodstock for a little while longer, so you can sleep. You need to rest first."

She matches his smile with a weaker one and a deep inhale and exhale out of her nose. "I know."

And she does know this, rationally, but it feels better hearing it from Elliot.

"Good. Good. I, uh, I love you, Liv. And I'm glad you are safe."

"Love you, too."

"Good. Now get some sleep."

Olivia checks the mail when she returns home with Noah the next afternoon, a chore that she had neglected the prior week. She'd been so overwhelmed, the thought of even opening an envelope would have sent her over the edge. She can afford a few late fees at the expense of her mental health.

In between a stack of bills, not unlike his very first letter several months ago, is a letter from one Elliot Stabler.

Her heart skips a beat. She hasn't expected any more letters from him given their recent progression to texts and calls and even Facetime. Plus, she's certain he had sent the last letter.

It's late when she finally sends Noah to bed, much later than his typical bedtime because she's agreed to let him finish the week of school online before returning to his normal schedule the following Monday. And she needs to spend extra time with him.

Olivia finally settles herself in bed around midnight with a warm mug of chamomile tea, no longer needing a glass of wine to get through Elliot's letters.

October 25, 2023

Olivia,

I think technically you owe me a letter, but given everything going on, I figured I'd let it slide. Plus, I still have a day before I return to work and I just want to talk to you. I hope by the time you get this letter, you have the all clear or are damn near close to it.

I was angry with myself as soon as I boarded my plane. I know you told me to go, but I want to be there with you. I want to hold you and protect you and help you get to the bottom of everything with BX9. I know you don't need me. You are so goddamn strong and capable and I know you can handle this and everything else that comes your way. But I want to be there. I want you to know that you have my complete dedication and support. And being thousands of miles away from you and Noah right now physically hurts.

I know why you told me to go and I respect it. So please don't feel guilty. I just want to make sure that you know that nothing is more important than you and Noah. Not this assignment. Not my job. Nothing. So if you say the word, I'm back on that plane. I'll collect my bags and pension checks in the mail.

I won't bog down this letter with the bad. Not when there is so much good happening between us. At least, I think it is good. Damn good. So damn good, Liv.

My trip back was unplanned and had a terrifying start. But Kathleen is strong and healing well (I get updates from the nurse). So I don't have any worries about her or Ma right now.

Instead, all I can think about is you and us, and our nights (and morning) together. It was so good to be able to fall asleep with you in my arms and wake up next to you the next morning, and everything in between.

God, Liv—you are so damn perfect; sexier than my wildest dreams (and I've had some wild dreams about you and me). I won't relive it all here in this letter. But you have to know that I will never be able to forget our time together, and I'm counting down the seconds until I can be back with you.

When I get back you are going to have to call out of work for at least two weeks, because that is how much time I'm going to need to make up for being gone. I'm going to take us upstate to a quiet B&B, and make it up I will, starting on my knees.

And when I'm back, I'm not sleeping alone again. Never again. I want to be with you every day and every night. I don't care where we are—my place, your place, our place, it doesn't matter—but we have to be together. I'm not wasting another second away from you. If I get offered another trip, even an overnight gig, I'm flipping them the bird and retiring.

I am sorry that now I won't be able to come home for Thanksgiving. I was excited to spend that day with you and Noah, and stuff myself with unreasonable amounts of pumpkin and pecan pie. I'll let you know about Christmas, but with the whispers around here, I'm not going to hold my breath (I'm sorry). And you need to let me know about Noah's recital, because I know and I'm praying that all of this is cleared up well before then and Noah is safe and sound back home.

Call me or text me whenever. You don't have to save everything for your next letter.

I love you,

Elliot