Elliot is correct. The doctors plan on keeping Kathleen in the hospital for several more days, and then they will only release her into the care of another adult. The doctors kick Elliot out after they deliver the news, citing the "end of visiting hours."

With a few harsh words, another kiss to Kathleen's forehead, and a promise to return when he can, he leaves the room, phone in hand.

Olivia's phone buzzes with his text.

Dinner tomorrow?

Me

You

In a sexy black dress?

Olivia looks at the time and realizes it's not even noon. The man is nothing if not insistent on getting her in that black dress. It's not that she doesn't want to go on a date with him, but it's hard for a single mom and NYPD Captain to do things at the last minute. She sighs frustratedly before she types out her reply.

It's a school night.

Her phone rings before she can set it back on her desk. Shaking her head with a sigh, she answers.

"Hello, Elliot. How's Kathleen?" she answers, almost formally.

Elliot exhales at Olivia's tone and immediate questioning about Kathleen. He shouldn't be upset that Olivia is asking about his injured daughter, but he feels like she's deflecting from his request for a date. "She's pretty roughed up. The doctors are going to keep her for a few days."

"But she's alright?"

"She will be. She has a lot of healing to do, and I could see that she was putting on a tough face for me this morning."

"You probably have a lot of arrangements to make today."

"A few. I'm going to call the aide we use for Mama and see if she can visit every day for a few weeks or recommend someone who can."

"What about work? Have you checked in since you've been back?"

Elliot sighs again. He doesn't want to push Oliva for this date if she's not ready, but he's so tired of waiting, and even though he's back for Kathleen, he has enough time to take her out. Plus, Kathleen would probably knock him in the shins with her crutches if he didn't at least ask. "Liv, please let me worry about those things. I just, ugh… I want to take you on a date while I'm in the city."

"I know," she answers gently.

He hears the soft resignation in her voice. "Do you not want to go out?"

"No. No. That's not it," she answers honestly. "But it's the middle of the week, Noah has school, and you need to focus on Kathleen and your mom. I'm not sure it would be appropriate for us to go out now."

"The timing is fine," he fights back, frustrated despite her reassurance. "In fact, Kathleen asked me about you this morning. Plus, I owe you a date, and you owe me a little black dress."

She smiles at his teasing tone as she answers him. "We will have a date, I promise. I'm not running anymore, remember?"

"Yeah," he exhales softly, knowing that he's been defeated.

"When is Kathleen coming home?"

"Saturday."

"How about I bring food over Friday evening? I can order Thai and bring ice cream. We can have a relaxing evening in."

"How about I cook us dinner Saturday night and you wear that dress."

He can hear her chuckle through the phone. "I think I'll save the dress for a night out between just the two of us, but you cooking dinner sounds nice."

He groans. "Fine, if you must. But it's a date."

She laughs. "Yes, it's a date. I'm looking forward to it."

"Me too, Liv. Me too."

Olivia bites her lip, trying to conceal her grin as she sets her phone back on her desk and refocuses on her laptop.

"How's Stabler?" Fin's voice booming through her office scares her, making her jump. She really wishes that Fin would just knock on her door for once. His sneaking into her office while she's thinking of Elliot is getting annoying.

"Good. He's good."

"Good? That was your emergency yesterday, right? One of Stabler's brood?"

"Oh. Yes. Kathleen was in a pretty serious car accident. Elliot flew back. He got in late last night."

"Is she going to be alright?" Fin asks as he leans back against the doorway, crossing his arms.

"I think so. Last I heard she made it through all her surgeries, but she has a broken leg, bruised ribs, and more."

"Ouch."

"She has a long recovery ahead, but Kathleen's tough."

"That she is. My favorite one, too."

"Fin"

He chuckles. "What? Are you telling me you love all of Stabler's offspring the same? Even that shithead Dickie."

"It's Rich now, and no comment," she says without meeting his eye.

"That's what I thought."

"Did you have something for me or did you just come in to bother me?"

"New case. Female vic, 19, it might be gang related. Looks like an initiation attack."

"Damn. Okay. Take Churlish to talk to her, and I'll send Velasco and Bruno to talk to our buddies over in Gangs to see if they have heard of any recent inductions or other movement."

"On it."

As Fin leaves her office, he turns back. "Hey, Cap?"

"Yeah, Fin?"

"Just so you know, I can handle the squad this week if Stabler or his family needs you while he's back."

"Thanks."

Olivia arrives Friday evening with wine and a few pints of gelato in tow. True to her word, she left the black dress in her closet, but she's wearing tight black jeans and a white sleeveless top under a chunky tan cardigan.

She lets herself in when Elliot doesn't answer the door, and the aroma that greets her makes her mouth water.

"Hey, you," Elliot hollers from the mouth of the hallway.

"Sorry. I knocked first," Olivia responds, setting her tote bags on the table.

He steps up next to her and kisses her cheek. "It's fine. I was on the phone with Kathleen."

Her cheeks flush lightly at his kiss and his grip on her waist. "She's okay?"

"She will be. She's frustrated she's still at the hospital. Tomorrow will be better."

Olivia nods. "It will be. Where's your mother?" she asks as she looks around the kitchen.

"She's down the hall playing cards. There are a few older women in the building who get together every week or so. She'll be done in a couple of hours."

"That's nice."

Elliot looks over her shoulder. "What did you bring?"

"Wine and dessert."

"Perfect. Dinner's almost ready. Steaks are resting and the risotto is done. I just need to finish preparing the salad."

Olivia turns around to see evidence of Elliot's hard work. "You can cook risotto?"

Elliot steps up behind her, his hands never leaving her waist, and leans in to whisper into her ear. "When will you learn? I can cook."

Shivers run up her spine, goosebumps raise on her arms. "Apparently so."

He kisses her cheek once more before stepping around her and back to the cutting board and vegetables. "I just need to finish chopping these and then we can eat."

"Can I help?"

He looks up from the cucumbers and tomatoes in front of him, and nods at her tote bags. "Pour some wine and keep me company."

"That I can do."

Dinner looks delicious, and so does he, she thinks, in his dark wash pants and light blue button up. No white shirt hiding his chest this time. His closet may not be diverse, but he always looks good in blue. His head is smooth, but she is pleasantly surprised that he's kept the beard. She hasn't mentioned it to him, so she doesn't know why he's growing it, but she had a fear that he'd shave it before their date night and she wouldn't get to feel it scrape across her cheek and neck and other places.

The easy small talk and flirting they had when she arrived falters as they take their seats opposite each other at his table. He's put in effort to make his table romantic and date-like. They have cloth napkins and wine glasses, and he's lit tall candles between them.

Olivia takes a few bites waiting for him to start a conversation. He doesn't. As much as she wants to keep the night easy and carefree, she knows that they need to discuss real things in person, rather than just in their letters, if they really want to make this work.

Olivia sets her fork and knife down before she asks. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"About what?" he asks as he brings a bite of steak to his mouth.

"Tucker."

"No," he answers honestly when he swallows, but then follows up quickly. "But maybe we should, a little."

"It's probably a good idea to address him, or that time, really."

Elliot looks at her and takes a deep breath as he settles back into his chair. "I said all I think I really wanted to say in my letter. I didn't like Tucker, but I missed some things—a lot, apparently," he shrugs, picking up his form and pushing his risotto around his plate. "I mean, I know you had a life here, including relationships. I just had to work through some jealousy that I haven't felt in ages. At the end of the day, I am glad that you were happy, truly. And I'm sorry that you suffered."

"Thank you, El. I don't want those ten years to be an albatross. I'm not sure when is the best time for us to talk about it, everything that happened. It might not be tonight. "

"It doesn't have to be," he shrugs, taking another bite.

She's not sure if he means that they don't have to talk tonight or if the past doesn't have to be a burden weighing them down. "Eventually, though, we will need to, and I want us to be honest. But I don't want us to get hung up on those years and not be able to get to what's right in front of us.

He nods. "I want that, too."

Olivia takes a sip of her wine while she mulls over where to go next. She decides to bite the bullet again. "Do you want to know anything else about that time?"

He smiles, a smirk really, one not dissimilar to that afternoon in the hospital waiting room. "Uh, was there anyone else?"

She shakes her head to suppress her grin because of course Elliot would still be hung up on her dating history, not her career or her path to motherhood, but on the men she gave the time of day. "Of course, there were others, Elliot. I wasn't a monk."

"A monkette," he corrects, biting his bottom lip.

She ignores him and the nagging feeling in the back of her mind that she's heard him say that before. "There were a few guys here and there. No one really stuck around. But, uh, before Ed, I dated Brian, fairly seriously, for a couple of years."

"Brian…" Elliot's eyes narrow, as if he's thinking hard on the name. "Brian Cassidy?"

"The one and only," she answers, looking straight in his eyes, daring him to scoff or joke or to say anything.

She can tell that he senses her seriousness because he sets his fork down and rubs across his nose before asking, "Hmm. Did he treat you right?"

"He did," she answers with a nod and cuts another piece of her steak.

"So why… uh… I mean…"

She knows what he's trying to ask. "We wanted different things in life."

He nods, but his eyes narrow, asking her to continue.

"There was a moment that I thought I might be, uh…" She pauses, wishing that she had changed the conversation topic when she had the chance. "Well, I thought I was pregnant."

She can hear the breath leave him.

"Oh, woah… I… okay…"

"I wasn't," Olivia jumps in, saving him. "But I wanted to be. I had just… Well, it wasn't long after, uh… Shit, maybe we should…" She trails off, needing saving now.

"Hey, hey, Liv," Elliot starts, reaching out and grasping her hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for tonight to get so heavy. We can stop. You don't owe me anything."

She shakes her head, her eyes still on the table. "No, it's just… I had a lot of shit happen in those ten years, and it can be hard to talk about, especially because I have no idea how you don't already know about it."

She hears him gulp, and inhale deeply through his nose. "Are you talking about, uh, those days you were held captive?"

Olivia's head raises slowly to meet his eyes, her own revealing her surprise. "You know about that?"

Elliot rubs the back of his head with his free hand, squeezing her hand with his other. "I didn't. Not at the time and not when I first came back. But when I was with the Brotherhood, I heard talk of an SVU detective that faced and escaped, not once, but twice, an evil man. I did some digging—not much," he assures her quickly at the panicked look on her face. "Just enough to confirm it was you and to make sure that the bastard was already dead."

She chuckles. It's quiet and sounds more like a sniffle. "You didn't say anything."

"I didn't know what to say. It's not like I could bring you a coffee and say, hey, wanna talk to me about one of the worst times in your life?" He says the last part with a smile, hoping to add levity to this tough topic.

She chuckles again. "No, I guess you couldn't."

"I just figured we'd discuss it when you were ready. Honestly, Liv, I've never felt entitled to know about those years because I was the one who left. It felt, I don't know, rude to ask. If you want to share, I want to hear it, of course, but I don't really feel like I deserved to know."

Olivia looks at him. "I want you to know everything. I wanted you to know then."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"You've already apologized."

"I mean it, every time."

She nods but moves them back to their prior conversation. "It was after that, when Brian and I couldn't work it out. I really, really wanted to be pregnant, to be a mom. But Brian–"

"The eternal man-child," Elliot interrupts.

Olivia smiles. "Yeah, him. He was relieved. And that hurt. We had already started to grow apart after everything. I mean, he was there for me and helped me recover, but I wasn't the same."

"Of course not, Liv. Of course not. And I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring all of this up."

"No, it's okay. Like I said, we need to talk about it."

They return to eating, only the sound of knives scraping on plates and wine glasses being set down on the table heard, before Olivia finds the courage to ask her own questions.

"How about you?"

"Me?"

"Yeah. Anything in those ten years that I need to know about?"

Elliot sighs, thinking about how to answer. It's not a fair comparison. He moved away to live with his wife and youngest child. He had a job, an apartment, and a family. Most of the years were typical and mundane. Nothing comparable to her life, good or bad.

"Not really, Liv. I think you know the gist of it. We moved about a year after I left the force. It was a rough year for me. I was not in the right headspace after leaving my job and you. Kathy wanted a fresh start, and I agreed. So, we packed up and moved. It was nice for a while. But we were the same people that we had always been."

"Is this hard to talk about—your marriage, Kathy?"

"No Liv. I… In the last year, I've sought a lot of advice. From my priest, my therapist, and even Mama." He smiles at her. "I will always love Kathy and be grateful for what we had. We were together since we were children ourselves and we grew up way too fast together to raise our own children. Our relationship was rocky at times, but I will always love her."

"Of course you will," she adds gently. She knows the depth of Elliot's love for Kathy, and she doesn't want him to doubt that.

"But I've worked through my grief, and my shame, and my guilt. I'm ready to live the rest of my life. I returned to a career that I love, though I'd like to get back to the city. My children are grown and live interesting lives that I want to see. I have grandchildren that I need to spoil. And I'm ready to move on. I don't want you to think that I'm just jumping into this without thinking. I've thought about this, us, long and hard."

"Me too," Olivia answers in a whisper. "I just don't want you to think you can't talk about her, or your life, or anything."

"I know, Liv. You are too good for that. But right now, I want to focus on us."

"Me too."

Elliot smiles again and takes a sip of his wine. "So, tell me all about Noah's recital next month."

"Liv," Elliot calls out as they enter his apartment. "We're back." Elliot had left Olivia for a few minutes to walk his mother back from the neighbors.

"Elliot, my dear, you don't need to yell. I'm sure she didn't run out on you," Bernie mutters next to him as she walks to the kitchen.

"Good evening, Bernie," Olivia greets from the kitchen sink. Not quite sure what to do while Elliot was gone, she figured she'd make herself useful and tackle some of the dishes Elliot's dirtied with dinner.

"Good evening, Olivia. You look lovely."

"Thank you."

"You didn't need to do these," Elliot grumbles as he walks over to the sink and takes the sponge from her hand and turns off the water.

"It's not a big deal," Olivia shrugs as she takes a small towel from him and dries her hands, resting her back against the sink.

Ignoring her, Elliot turns to the freezer. "Mama, Olivia brought gelato if you wanted some before bed."

Bernie shakes her head and continues towards her room. "It's a bit late for me. I'll enjoy it tomorrow. Good night now."

"We didn't mean to kick you out of the kitchen, Bernie," Olivia says uncomfortably.

"You aren't. Though I wouldn't put it past this one," she thumbs towards Elliot, "to put me to bed to get some time alone with you."

Olivia blushes.

Elliot coughs as he walks to the living room with two pints of gelato in his hands. "Good night, Mama."

Elliot turns back to Olivia when Bernie's door closes, smiling. "Spoons are in that drawer. Grab a couple, will you?"

She does and follows him into the living room.

Olivia joins him on the couch and hands him a spoon. Quietly they take turns dipping their spoon into their own pints.

"This is good," Olivia says around a bite.

"Here," Elliot mutters around a bite of his own gelato. He scoops another bite on his spoon and lifts it to Olivia's lips. "Where did you get this? It's almost as good as the pistachio I get in Rome."

Olivia opens her lips to let him feed her the bite.

"Oh, hold on." Elliot leans in. "You got some…" He trails off and kisses the edge of her lip and down to her chin.

She thinks he's incredibly corny, but she's not going to pull back. No. She's been eyeing him all night, waiting for him to make a real move. His kisses when she walked in were nice, but after their conversation at dinner, they've been acting a little awkward and tense. She wants to move past that and feel like she did the last time he was here.

But she can't help chuckling as the rough hair on his chin scratches her cheek. "That tickles."

"Hmmm," Elliot hums. "We can't have that." He kisses her squarely on the lips.

This time, she notices, he tastes like sweet gelato and wine and him. She's missed that, him. Some nights, too many nights, since he's left, Olivia's laid in bed thinking about their kisses, missing the pressure of his lips and the way he tasted on her tongue. Even more, she'd missed the feel of his body over hers, under hers, just the heat of him when he was close and excited.

This kiss doesn't disappoint. His lips are soft and a little cool from their dessert as they press against hers and then part them gently. His tongue finds hers and explores sweetly, at first, and then more demanding with each passing minute.

They kiss for what seems like ages, just lips and tongue and hot breath, until, without breaking their lips, Elliot sets his ice cream on the coffee table, and then hers. His hands find the back of her neck at the base of her skull. She hisses at the cold, wet touch of his fingers.

"Sorry," he mutters against her lips, and slides his hand into her hair and tugs gently, tipping her head to the side so he can deepen the kiss. His tongue sweeps through her mouth, seeking, before he sucks on her bottom lip and nips it gently. "God, Liv. I've missed you… this," he murmurs into her mouth.

And then, much like the first time she found herself on a couch with Elliot, kissing Elliot, he uses his weight to lean her back on to the cushions. She can feel his eagerness, his heart thumping in his chest, and the blood rushing through his veins, warming his body and hers.

But this time, Olivia is bolder than before and more excited. She lets him lower her to the cushions, quickly adjusting her legs to create space for his body on top of hers. She allows her own hands to explore, immediately slipping under his shirt at his sides and then scratching down the muscles in the middle of his back. He groans and she likes that. The feel of his reaction to her reverberating through his chest and the way his body lowers impossibly closer to her, sinking them both deeper into the couch.

Elliot doesn't wait to lower his hips and settle right at her center, not hiding his desire from her. One of his hands loops under her thigh and pulls her leg over his hip, pressing himself even closer, making sure that she can feel the effect she has on him.

She could kiss him like this forever, fully and with their entire bodies. She revels in the way his mouth is on hers, his hands are on her sides, and the way his hips are slowly, erotically grinding into hers.

She can't help herself from moaning as his lips drop to her neck, sucking under her ear before nipping all the way down to her chest. She feels a hand slide under her shirt, and she arches her back, encouraging his touch and thankful for the cool air against her belly as her shirt slowly rises with his arm.

His lips continue downward until he grunts frustrated by the material of her shirt.

"Off," he exhales against her chest as he uses two hands to tug on the material.

Olivia lifts her head, her cheeks red from his beard, and she looks around. "You and couches are dangerous," she jokes through deep, panting breaths.

Instead of laughing, Elliot looks at her seriously, his gaze heated. "I have a bed."

Her eyes widen in shock, and she looks away from him, thinking.

Elliot lifts up, sitting back completely and readjusting her shirt for her. "Sorry, I–I didn't…" He wipes over his face and looks at her again. "Actually, I did. God, Liv. I want you."

"El…" she starts, trying to decide what she wants to do. She knows what she wants, but she's not sure whether it's the best thing for them right now. He's only back for a few more days and she knows it's going to hurt when he leaves. Doing this will only make their impending separation hurt more, she thinks. Or maybe, maybe it will make them feel even more connected. And she doesn't think she can survive another couple of months on only kisses from this man.

"No. No. Please stay. I just want as much time with you as I can."

She nods, reaching to the back of his neck, tugging him down so she can kiss his lips. "I'll stay."

Elliot stands from the couch and holds out his hand. "Come on."