Elliot's plans of taking Olivia out on a date are quashed before he has a chance to make a reservation. Early Wednesday afternoon she texts him she's going to be tied up on a case all evening and possibly for the next couple of days. He's suspicious after their tense departure the night before, but he also knows that August is full of back-to-school parties and frat rush weeks.

He doesn't text her all day Wednesday other than a quick message of understanding and assurance that he believes she will get her guy soon. Rich comes over that evening to watch a baseball game with him and Eli. Elliot does his best to only check his phone during the 7th inning stretch. No new messages.

Elliot spends all day Thursday with Liz and Kathleen hoping Olivia will reach out, telling him that she's off work and can see him. He'll take midnight pizza and beer as a date if that's all he can get. He wants to see her again and kiss her some more. Still no new messages.

By Friday morning, Elliot's frustrated and impatient. He can't wait any longer to see her, just see her. Not when he's flying to Colorado on Sunday and then will be back in Rome for months. He doesn't want to tip her off, though, giving her time to run or to make up an excuse to keep her distance. He messages Fin.

Where's Liv

Where else?

In her office working

Olivia's stomach squeezes with shame when she sees him; she can't control it. She wants to be mad that he's come down here without her permission, encroaching on her sanctuary. But she's half surprised it took him this long to come to her office, and he's standing in her doorway holding a sandwich and a bag of chips. Her stomach growls at the smell of fresh deli bread. She skipped breakfast on her way out the door in the morning and is running on only coffee and a granola bar from the questionable depths of her purse.

"I thought you might be hungry." He waves the sandwich and walks towards her desk. He nods back out the door. "I brought enough for everyone. Fin took the rest to the breakroom."

She shakes her head, hopeful that it will be enough to stop him from coming closer. She's not sure she can handle him in her space without her heart racing. She has too much to work out before she can fall back into him.

"Elliot, I'm sorry. It's just this case. I—"

He puts his hand on her shoulder when he gets close enough, squeezing gently to stop her, and drops the sandwich down in front of her. "I'm not here to distract you. I just figured you were hungry. You have to eat, Liv."

Olivia takes a deep breath and nods, looking down at the sandwich on her desk, the scent of the bread getting stronger and her hunger beating out her anxiety in the moment. "I've only got about five minutes before I have to head to 1PP for a meeting with McGrath."

Elliot just nods and rubs at back of his head. "Then, uh, I'll just get out of your hair."

Grateful that he's not sticking around and for lunch, she finally meets his eyes, hoping he can't see the anxiety rushing through her. "Thank you."

Elliot looks through her door and sees that most of her team is still in the breakroom, though Fin is heading towards his desk, his eyes on the sandwich in his hands. Taking his chance, Elliot leans down and brushes his lips to her cheek. "You're welcome. Call me when you can."

And then he's gone and waiting on her again.

She doesn't call him.

Elliot had felt her hesitation this afternoon. He had felt it Tuesday night when he was leaving. He'd just hoped that a good night's sleep would help her work through whatever emotions she had been feeling that night. But something has changed between Tuesday night and today, and it's not good. He needs to fix it, but he doesn't know how, and he can't stop the clock ticking towards his departure.

Friday evening is spent sitting on his patio with his mother, listening to his favorite record as they watch the stars. It was something they did when he was a child—sit on their back deck and watch the stars and planets move across the sky in the calm of the night when his dad was asleep or gone.

"I thought you were going out with Olivia while you were in town?"

He sighs, taking a sip of his whiskey. "I did too, Mama. I did too."

Bernie smiles at him, reaching across the small table between them to squeeze his hand. "Will she make you happy?"

"Yeah. I think so."

She pats his hand once more before rising from her chair. "Then don't be afraid to chase her. She's a strong woman, dear. But sometimes the strong ones need a little more convincing— more proof that a man's really worth it."

He snorts a bit, wondering where his mother comes up with these things.

Saturday morning Elliot messages Olivia:

I'm taking the twins to a kid's museum

Can I take Noah?

I can pick him up & drop him off

He's pathetic and he knows it. Elliot genuinely likes the younger Benson and wants to spend time with him before he leaves. He wants to get to know Noah in his own right and as Olivia's son. But not so deep in the back of Elliot's mind is the knowledge that taking Noah to the museum means that he might get a chance to see Olivia when he brings him home. Yeah, he feels like shit.

He's with the McCanns

They picked him up yesterday.

Last visit before school starts.

Defeated, he drops his phone in his pocket and heads to Maureen's to pick up the kids.

"Musta been some letter."

"What?" Olivia looks up from her desk to see her Sergeant standing in the doorway.

"From Stabler. That must have been some letter if you are letting him kiss you in your office."

"It was on the cheek," she responds matter of factly. She's too exhausted and frustrated to play into Fin's taunts. It has been a long day. After Elliot left, her meeting with McGrath went the only way that those meetings ever went. And now she's back, in her office on Saturday evening, trying to wrap up a report so she can drop it on his desk when the indictments go through, hopefully on Monday.

Fin laughs and takes a seat on her couch. "Oh, so you don't deny it."

"Apparently there isn't any use denying it," she retorts, returning to her work on her laptop.

"Is he back now?"

She shakes her head, "Just a visit. He leaves tomorrow."

Fin's brows lift. "Then what the hell are you doing here?"

"Working."

"Nah, that's not an answer."

"It's been a mess this week."

"And we are finished for tonight. Bruno and Churlish are going to bring in that Chad guy tomorrow."

"Brad," she corrects under her breath.

"Chad… Brad… it doesn't matter. We aren't breaking the case tonight."

Olivia shakes her head again before nodding at her screen, "I've got to write this report."

"You can do it tomorrow."

"I—"

Fin gets up from the couch and starts looking around for her giant purse. "No, Liv. Go home. Invite him over and let him kiss your cheek some more. The man has to be desperate for a little lovin'."

"Fin—" Olivia tries to argue. She doesn't need Fin's shame; she feels guilty enough. Despite the ongoing case, she hasn't been able to ignore the reality of the matter. She let her fear cause her to hide out for nearly four days and Elliot is only here seven. Tonight is his last night in New York; his flight leaves tomorrow at 11:15 a.m. And she's here, typing up a report that she can finish on Monday morning.

"No, I'm serious. I'm not going to let you hole up here on Stabler's last night in the city." He finds the bag, picks it up and puts it on her desk, reaching for her laptop, planning to close it and then hoist her from her chair.

She stops him, blocking his reach with her arm, and holding her hand up to stop him. "I'm not hiding; I'm working. I'll leave when I'm done. Good night, Sergeant."

Fin stops and looks at her. He waits a minute for her to back down, but when she doesn't, he gives her a disappointed look and shakes his head before he leaves her office.

Not to be defeated though, he waits in the parking garage for half an hour until he sees her walk to her car.

He's not usually this invested in the lives of his coworkers, but Fin knows that Olivia is avoiding Stabler. He saw their interaction yesterday, clocking the tension in Olivia's shoulders and the way her smile didn't quite reach the edge of her lips. Fin just doesn't understand why she isn't all puppy dog eyes over Stabler like she usually is, especially if they have progressed to kissing (even if it is just on the cheek). Whatever her reason, he's tired of his friend avoiding her chance at happiness.

Fin's text buzzes as Elliot's stepping out of the shower. If he doesn't hear from Olivia by 10:30 tonight, he's planning on heading back up to the precinct or camping outside her apartment. He isn't going to get on that plane tomorrow without seeing her one last time.

She just left

I owe you

Just don't fuck it up

10-4 sarg

After a short shower, Olivia changes into her favorite joggers, soft and thin for the summer heat, and a relaxed, flowy top. It's got a deep v and sits loose on her body. It's perfect, she thinks, for the warm nights and hot flashes that like to surprise her every few days. Then she pours a glass of wine and sits at her kitchen counter, contemplating calling Elliot.

She's upset with herself. The case this week was a big one, frat hazing turned assault, and several donors and alumni had tried to step in and stymie the investigation. But she had a good squad, a very talented squad. They could have handled most of it without her, at least for one night so she could have gone out with Elliot. But she panicked and used work as an excuse to hide from him.

Part of her had hoped that Elliot would get on the plane and they could use pen and paper to talk about how things had changed. She feels stronger, more in control and eloquent in her writing and with space between them. Lately, when she's been in his physical presence, she struggles to think straight. And for a moment, she had let herself fall, succumbing to his affection. She had kissed him back and let her body want more.

God, she wants more. But it just feels like too much. She is burning too hot for him. And it terrifies her.

Elliot deserves better than her excuses; he deserves more from her. She knows it. She had promised that she was going to try, that she wanted more too. Instead, she's hiding at the first hint of discomfort and emotions she doesn't want to confront.

She's not sure how she will work through this other than with a couple of long sessions with Dr. Lindstrom. She needs someone to help her sort through her scattered thoughts and desires.

Olivia takes a deep breath as she pulls up Elliot's contact on her phone, ready to call him and apologize, when a knock booms through her quiet apartment, making her jump.

Immediately she knows it's him pounding at her front door. She also knows that if she doesn't answer it, he will kick the damn thing down.

Slipping from her seat Olivia shuffles to the entryway and readies herself to apologize when she opens the door.

"I'm sor—"

Elliot pushes the door open the moment it cracks, smashing his lips to hers in a bruising kiss.

He had a different plan as he passed the guard at the front desk and rode the elevator. He was going to take his calm, soft approach—ask her what went wrong, what she's feeling, and what he needs to do to help her.

That changes in the space it takes him to reach her door. Anger takes over him. Frustration at being frozen out. She's been unreachable when he's needed answers, and he hates every last second of it. And when the door opens and her soft skin and sad, apologetic brown eyes come into view, he can't hold back.

His anger and desire and regret all rolls into one as Elliot forces his way into her apartment. His hands are on her low back and cupping the base of her skull. He kicks the door shut and grunts when he slams her against the opposite wall of the entryway, his knuckles cushioning the blow.

His chest is pressed so tightly against hers it hurts, but when he locks his leg between her thighs, Olivia can't feel anything else but the heat of him all over her.

It's just lips at first, hard and tight, bruising against hers almost as if he's afraid to take it further until she catches up. The second he feels her body acquiesce to his hold, gingerly sinking into his grip, he tips his head and deepens the kiss.

Elliot draws his tongue over the seam of her lips, pushing forward. She accepts him, and when he realizes that she's not fighting him, his grip loosens and hands tentatively begin to run up and down her spine.

When she finally fully melts into him, his aggression and anger give way to desire and exploration. Elliot pulls them off the wall, mouths still working, and walks her back towards the living room. He turns them, separating himself before he sits back onto her couch.

Elliot watches as she decides what to do next. He's here, on her couch, offering himself to her. But he can't tell if she's going to slap him and kick him out or if she wants to kiss him again. Maybe she doesn't know yet, either.

All Olivia can think in this moment is just how broad Elliot is as he takes up the center of her couch. His chest is heaving, and it makes him look that much bigger. She knows he's watching her, trying to determine if he needs to apologize.

It only takes her a moment, though it feels like minutes, to make up her mind. She's tired of being scared of what she wants. And she really wants to feel his hands and lips back on her. She can think about the potential consequences of this later. For now, she wants to lean into this, lean back into him.

Slowly, Olivia straddles his lap, placing one knee on either side of his thighs, holding herself above him. She cups his face in her hands and Elliot smiles as she leans in. Her lips are soft at first, easy, soft presses of her lips to his, as if she's testing her ability to kiss him. Each one lasts longer than the one before.

Between her soft kisses, Elliot whispers low against her lips, "You can't do this again."

She stops in her tracks, eyes wide and fearful as she tries to read him. "Do what?"

She starts to lift her hands and pull, and he grasps her wrists, keeping her hands where they are. "Run from me. Not if we are doing this." His head moves slowly back and forth, but his eyelids are still half closed, and he's looking at her lips.

"You're leaving tomorrow," Olivia reminds him in her own whisper.

"I'm not running. I'm coming back to you." He looks up to look into her eyes and she can see how serious he is. "No more running."

She swallows and nods. "No more running."

A moment passes between them, heavy with her promise and his. He is coming back to her, and he expects her to be here when he does.

Olivia starts again slowly, repeating her small kisses this time on his jaw, waiting for him to speak again. When he doesn't, she parts her lips and kisses him deeply. Elliot groans as she draws on his bottom lip, sucking gently at first then nipping at it before she dives in with more fervor. Her fingers scratch at his chin, catching on the scruff that's grown throughout the day.

Elliot tries to let her lead, but the soft whimper she makes when her tongue grazes over his goes straight to his core. His fingers dig into her soft hips, and he pulls her onto his lap fully, groaning again when she settles directly on him.

Her breath catches. He takes the break to kiss her neck again. He loves how soft she is and the smell that rests in the junction of her shoulder. He's been dying all week to return to that spot since he discovered it on Tuesday.

She grasps at his shoulders, tugging on his shirt, bracing herself as her head falls back. "El."

He's too busy kissing down her throat to do more than murmur against her skin. "Hmmmm."

Elliot kisses and licks as far down her sternum as her sleep shirt allows, to the crease in her chest, running his nose along the soft wrinkles in her skin he finds there. His hands slip up her front, under the fabric, and coast over her soft belly. He teases the bottom of the cozy bra she put on after her shower before he lets one hand drift higher, skimming over the thin material cautiously.

She hums in appreciation as his palm glides over her breast, then thumbs at her nipple before palming her. Any resistance he had left leaves him. One hand retreats to her hip, and he drags her hips down as he rolls his upwards. His lips find her again and he kisses her deeply, sucking on her tongue.

She feels him, hard against his zipper, like she had wanted to feel him on her Tuesday night. Her soft joggers are a useless barrier between them. She presses down harder, letting her heat seep through her thin pants. She wants to feel him all over.

Elliot sucks in air and slips his hand from her hip to her backside, helping her rock against him. Their breath is frenzied and ragged. Olivia scratches up the back of his neck and kisses his jaw, letting his whiskers bite at her tongue before she leans in and nips at his earlobe.

"God, Liv," he groans, his head hitting the couch. He knows that they have to stop now if they are going to stop tonight. He's about two seconds from hoisting her up and carrying her to her bedroom, but he knows that he shouldn't. Not tonight. Not when he's boarding a plane in less than twelve hours.

He grabs her waist, stilling her hips and groans desperately, "We have to stop."

Olivia watches his face closely as he swallows and inhales.

Everything in her body is telling her that stopping is the absolutely wrong thing to do right now. Her fears from this week feel like a distant memory, as if Elliot had banished them with his lips and tongue.

"I didn't come over for this. I don't – I mean." He struggles for a moment. "I don't want us to, uh, do that now."

"You kissed me." Her voice is still quiet, almost disbelieving of recent events. But he's still hard under her and his chest is moving deeply.

"You kissed me first," he reminds her with a soft kiss to her jaw.

"Not tonight," she counters. But she knows it's right. They can't go there tonight. Not only is he leaving, but as her arousal begins to ebb, reality starts to sink in and she fears pushing this further will cause another round of panic.

"Doesn't matter," he counters, grinning broadly before his face turns serious and he lifts her at her waist and helps settle her on the couch next to him. "So, uh, are we okay?"

"Yeah El. We are good. I–I just…" She doesn't want to explain it right now, not after moving past it and sharing what they just shared.

"It's okay. I get it. This is… new and…"

"Overwhelming," Olivia supplies. "I want this, though," she assures him.

"Good." Elliot stands and adjusts his clothing and himself before reaching into his back pocket and pulling out an envelope, folded in half and fairly rumpled. He holds it out to her. "Uh, my response. I got your letter a few days before my flight, so I figured I'd just give it to you."

Olivia takes the letter, a stark reminder that he's going to be gone again soon and she doesn't know when he's returning. "Oh, uh, thank you."

"I have to get going." He watches her movements, wanting nothing more than to return to the couch, or to walk her back to her bedroom and lock the door to keep reality at bay.

"I know," she nods calmly. Inside, she's fighting every urge to jump up and kiss him again and beg him to stay with her tonight, for good.

Elliot rubs his head nervously. He hadn't meant for them to just make out when he arrived. He actually had a plan. He wanted to talk about them. But it's late and he has to get back home to Eli and his mother. And Olivia agreed to stop running, so that had to be good enough for now. "I wish I could stay—a little longer at least."

She smiles at him and begins to rise from the couch to walk him out. "Me too."

He stops her, holding his hands up. "Stay there."

She cocks her head, confused, but sits back on the cushion.

An ornery smile spreads across his face. "If you walk me to the door, I might not leave."

Olivia shakes her head. "You have to go home tonight."

"I know. I just – now that I know what it's like to kiss you. If I don't walk to that door alone, I think I might not be able to leave."

Her cheeks heat at his words, not yet used to his words of affection and desire; granted, they hadn't done a lot of talking this week. "Okay."

"Thank you," he whispers as he leans down and presses a sweet kiss good-bye to her lips. "I'll call you when I land."

Olivia doesn't say anything as he turns his back to her and walks out of her living room. She's not sure what to say. Not now. But he doesn't seem to be upset by her silence.

With his hand on the knob, Elliot looks back. "Just, uh, wait to open it. Until I'm back in Rome."