Prompt #12: Love at First Sight
Love at First Sight
~oOo~
Summer of 91'
Olivia never planned to fall in love.
It just wasn't in her cards, she figured.
She fell in love, hard and strong, at sixteen. She fell for an older man who became her entire world. A man who offered her escape and solace, comfort and shelter, only to have the entire castle he built for her with his words crumble on her head as he left.
She never planned on falling in love. She planned to graduate from the NYPD academy and become a cop. A damn good one, if you ask her.
And then… And then Elliot Stabler walked into the room, taking the only empty seat, which happened to be right by her side.
Olivia never planned on falling in love, especially not with a married man. A good Catholic, a loyal husband, and a caring father, as she will later learn about the stranger sitting next to her.
Another one of the things Olivia never believed in, was love at first sight. On the rare occasion someone around her would bring it up in a conversation, she just rolled her eyes, counting the seconds in her head until they finally, finally, changed the subject.
There is no such thing as love at first sight, she was sure of that as much as she was sure the sun would rise the following morning. That weird feeling she got in the pit of her stomach when a complete stranger sat right next to her… Well, it was probably because of something spoiled she ate the day before.
"Earth to Olivia Benson," Elliot calls her name, snapping his fingers in front of her face in order to get her attention.
"Uh, What?"
"Nothing, I was just saying that I decided to leave the academy and go follow a career as a male stripper."
Olivia hits his arm playfully, taking her lower lip in her teeth before retorting. "Well, good luck. It will be easier for me to be top of the class with you gone. Don't forget to call so I can catch your first show."
"Very funny." Elliot rolls his eyes, hissing in pain when Olivia goes back to the task at hand, sanitizing the laceration on his forehead.
"You started it."
"You were the one who volunteered to clean my wound, then went and disappeared in her own thoughts."
"It was only because I know you are completely unable to take care of yourself. Without me in this class, you probably would be lying somewhere moaning and groaning about how you are going to die from the man flu. Now stand still or we are going to be stuck in here for eternity."
Here is a nondistinct supply closet somewhere in the academy, one of many. She isn't sure how they ended up there, close, too close. The smell of rubbing alcohol and Elliot filling her senses as every breath becomes harder and harder to take. She just saw him in the hallway, a nasty cut on his face, and the next thing she knows, he is hovering above her, snapping her out of the train of thoughts that seemed to lead her nowhere.
"Yes, Captain."
"Not yet, Stabler, but one day. Now get your ass out of here. We have things to do."
She opens the door, letting the sunlight from the big windows of the hallway filter into the dimly lit closet, taking one last breath of him before turning her back, heading absolutely nowhere. She doesn't have anywhere she needs to be, but she can't stay in a tight closet with Elliot Stabler for much longer, she is sure of that.
"See you around, Liv." She hears the timber of his voice, then turns to catch the last glimpse of him over her shoulder before he disappears around the corner.
Olivia lets out an audible sigh as she leans against one of the walls, her body slowly slipping down until she meets the floor. When she closes her eyes, all she can see is the man she just shared a supply closet with and those tattoos on his arms as he runs laps in a tank top.
"Olivia Benson… Did I just see you walking out of a supply closet with Elliot Stabler?"
"No, you didn't," Olivia denies, opening her eyes and looking up to the other trainee hovering above her. She never had many female friends, or many friends at all, for that matter. She spent most of her time caring for herself and her alcoholic mother, cleaning vomit and spilled vodka off the floors. It left her social life somewhat lacking.
And then… Then she found herself in the NYPD academy, where she didn't have to be the product of rape. Where she wasn't under her mother's watching eye, where the bane of her existence wasn't anyone's most traumatic memory.
She was nothing but Olivia. And when Monique Jeffries told her on the very first day that they have to stick together in order to make it through, she held onto those words with her two hands, never letting each other go.
"Tell me the truth," the other woman insists, reaching out her hand to get Olivia back on her feet.
"Nothing happened. He just needed some help cleaning a nasty cut, that's all." Her steps are small and measured, pacing alongside her friend and hoping she will finally drop the subject.
Of course, Monique won't let her off the hook so easily.
"So you're telling me that you two went into a tiny room together, locked the door and absolutely nothing happened?"
"He is married, Monique, and I am not going to stand between him and his family. He will never do anything, anyway. Good old guilt-ridden catholic Stabler."
"But don't you want to?" her friend asks, the set rhythm of her steps suddenly stopping as she raises a brow, as if she can read Olivia's thoughts.
She can't lie. She can't deny that feeling that pulls her closer to the one man who is completely off-limits. And she knows that whenever she looks at Elliot, it is written all over her face.
"Since when do the things that I want matter?"
"You are screwed, Olivia," Monique decides, then returns to her pace, walking absolutely nowhere around the academy. Or maybe they have to be somewhere, maybe they have a class to attend or a training to complete, and all this talking made her forget everything but him.
"Only for the rest of the summer," Olivia mumbles, then runs to catch up with her friend, as if she will ever be able to let Elliot Stabler go.
~oOo~
Elliot never planned on falling in love.
He was already in love. He had a wife and two beautiful daughters, and it was enough. It had to be enough. He was already in love, or so he thought, until the very day he had taken the last vacant seat in the room next to a beautiful brunette, her brown eyes inspecting him curiously.
Olivia Benson, he later learned her name. He learned her name, and so much more about her, taking her in day by day, slowly peeling the layers, savoring as much as she was willing to give. He learned that she is fierce, and strong, and hot-headed. He learned that she will never back down from a fight, if the cause is worth it, or take no for an answer. He learned that her hair smells like lavender, and that her eyes wrinkle slightly on the rare occasions when he catches her smile.
Elliot never believed in love at first sight. Even Kathy, his first love, the mother of his children… He fell in love with her slowly, jumping into a marriage out of duty, rather than from the strength of his emotions, and learning to love her along the way.
He fell for Olivia head first, his own heart betraying him as he knows he will never be able to love her the way she deserves to be loved. He will only be able to love her from afar, for the rest of the summer, before duty calls his name once again.
Elliot pulls the trigger of his gun until all the bullets have been shot, looking sideways at the man made out of paper, who has holes in all kinds of different, strange places.
This was not his best try, not by a long shot.
When the safety is locked and he can finally hear again, he feels a pair of brown eyes peeking over curiously, measuring his success, or the lack of it, in this case. Her face lights up when she looks at his poor outcome, then at her own perfect score, her gaze moving back and forth.
She is as competitive as a person can get. It is another small thing he learned about her in the time they spent together. The need to prove herself, to do the absolute best.
To be the absolute best.
"When I said I want to be first in class, I thought you might put up some fight," Olivia teases, and when she places a warm hand on his shoulder, the world seems to stop, his breath catches in his throat and his stomach twists into a tight knot. "A penny for your thoughts?"
"Sometimes I am still there," Elliot finally says, the touch of her hand still making small currents of electricity run through him. He doesn't have to say anything more than that to have her nod her head, taking another step closer.
She knows. He told her his story on one of his many sleepless nights, when he woke up covered in a thin layer of sweat, told her more than he ever told his own wife. It was so easy, just unburdening some of the pain, having someone else sharing the weight of the world that has been pressing his back and his shoulders.
And it isn't a lie, not really. He is still there, still in the eye of the storm, still seeing the faces of his friends who were, and are now gone, as he hears the whistling of the bullets.
He wonders if a part of him will always stay in Iraq.
He isn't lying, but he is not being completely honest, either. Because how can he? How can he tell her that the only thing that helps him shake a bad nightmare is the image of her face in his mind's eye? How can he tell her that he longs to run his fingers through her hair, finally finding out how those locks feel against his skin?
How can he tell her that he thinks he fell in love with her? Fell in love with her at first sight, the moment she looked at him with that pout when he was late for their first class?
"What do you need?" Olivia asks, a perfect eyebrow arches at him as she lowers her hand.
You.
Instead, he answers, "A drink."
"Meet me tonight." She nods.
A drink, and for this summer to finally end, or for it to last forever.
The author of this SVU - Love Lead You Home story will be revealed in March