The venomous retort seethes from her lips.
"Leaving so soon?"
Her arms are folded and she stands tall, eyes lasering his retinas. He's giving as good as he's getting, and won't back down from her. They've danced this routine before.
"C'mon Liv, it's not like that. You know it."
"That's Captain Benson, and no, I don't know it. I don't know anything when it comes to you." She's firm, unrelenting, pushed into the abyss of rage by a formidable opponent.
"Captain Benson, I was following the directives of my commanding officer."
"Ah, how mighty of you. So, once again, you weren't going to tell me. Once again, you were going to ghost me, ignore me, run away from me. And you wonder why I won't let you near my son." She scoffs then, as if his multiple invitations for lunch were nothing but empty requests and broken promises. Doomed before they could begin.
"That's not fair."
"Fair? Let's talk about fair, shall we? You know what wasn't fair? Finding out from Cragen that my partner of twelve years put his papers in. That wasn't fair."
"Olivia-"
"Captain Benson, thank you, and no, you don't get to give me excuses or demand any more of my time."
"You're angry."
"You think? Jesus, Elliot, wake the fuck up. You have no right to waltz back into my life and expect me to be your doormat."
"You know what, Captain Benson? The martyrdom is getting old. I left. Deal with it."
She looks like she's been slapped, her head whipping around to glare at him icily. "You know what, Detective Stabler? I'll be the one to leave this time. Don't let the door hit you in the ass on your way out of my life."
"Leaving so soon?"
He's pressed against her back, teasing, growling in her ear, as Liv grins and moans and keens. She backs her hips into his groin, eliciting an intoxicating hum of want as he presses his tongue down her neck, licking away the salty sweat that accompanied her fiery faux anger.
"If Donnelly didn't think I hated you already, he sure does now." She's breathy, breathless, as Elliot works his fingers along her hips, clawing and needy.
"Mmmm, judging from the commentary at the 3-7, you left quite a lasting impression." His hands travel under her shirt, grabbing her breasts, dusting over her peaked nipples. She huffs out an aroused sigh, spins them around, pins him against the wall.
"How much time do we have?"
"Maldonado and Cho are on surveillance outside and can keep a secret. Noah good?"
"He's with Lucy. I've got time."
She grabs his shirt and launches it over his head as he works the button on her jeans with fervor. They alternate stripping each other between heaving breaths and catch-up conversation.
"As soon as this op is over-" he murmurs against her lips before nuzzling that spot right under her left ear that makes her whisper words like oh God and right there and don't stop.
His boxer briefs are the last to go, as she was temporarily distracted by his lips. "-I know, that's okay. He misses you. Wants you to make Fruity Pebbles French toast again."
"Tell him that's a promise."
They stumble and grasp, tangled in each other's limbs as they bump the edge of the bed. He throws her down ravenously and she paws at his chest, his arms, trailing her hands down the protruding veins and gripping his muscular frame.
He's on top of her now, slow and soulful, searching her eyes, making sure they're good, asking permission. "Hi, Captain Benson."
Her smirk is visible in the darkness. "You liked that little addition, huh?"
"I'm gonna need you to call me Detective Stabler again tonight, because that was fucking hot."
At this she giggles, head tipped back against the headboard. "Well, I'm going to need you to fuck me, now. I hate arguing with you, even when it's rehearsed and fake."
"Me too."
He enters her slowly, carefully, their joined bodies offering up apologies for those empty words. They've already had the important conversations, hashed out the whats and hows and whys, and have gotten to this place of trust and love. The vocabulary stung tonight, but it was meticulously planned and executed with the ease of their beautiful partnership.
And the makeup sex was always amazing.
Her hips rise to meet his, and he reads her like a beloved novel, inherently understanding the symbolism of her movements. He increases his pace, knows that she needs this to be wild and frantic and all-encompassing; needs to forget that Benson and Stabler supposedly hate each other, when they've finally gotten to this place of uninhibited love and devotion.
It's fast and ravenous as they come together, careening over the blissful waves of pleasure and forgiveness. They pant and laugh at the ferociousness of their lovemaking as he falls to her side and spoons her spent form. She reaches behind her, offering a languid, tender kiss.
"I love you, Detective Stabler."
"Mmmm, I'll never get tired of hearing that, Liv. I love you more than anything."
"Can we never fight again?"
"Well, I would say yes, but the sex afterward is incredible, so…"
She slaps him, playfully, and they cuddle, gripping each other against crisp bed sheets, enjoying the limited moments they have before reality creeps back in and their hateful charade resumes. For now, they'll cherish and savor these moments of safety and love.