"They're legal now, Liv. Why not live a little?"

When Amanda handed her the bottle of gummies, she thought her friend was insane. A retired cop who's married to a lawyer, no less, giggling like a high school student passing her a joint.

"Amanda, I can't. I'm a captain."

"A captain with the weekend off for once and Noah away at the McCanns. Look, I'm not telling you to go to a bar and get wasted- I'm saying you finally have a relaxing weekend at home with no responsibilities. Maybe you could be a bit more relaxed, that's all."

Olivia eyed the container warily. "How many-"

"Start with one. Give it at least an hour to kick in. I swear, it sneaks up on you."

"And I'll feel relaxed?"

"You'll feel however you want to feel. It takes the edge off and releases inhibitions. For some people, they sleep better. For others, they feel drunk. For me, it makes me horny."

"Amanda!"

"Come on, have a hot date with a toy tonight, or have raunchy phone sex with Stabler."

"Goodbye, Amanda."

It's nine o'clock before she feels brave enough to take one, after she casually double-checks with Fin that he doesn't need her for the rest of the night. (That he can handle whatever stoned Olivia cannot.) She chews the overly fruit-flavored concoction, wincing at the amount of sugar and additives needed to cover up whatever cannabis must actually taste like. She would rather smoke a joint if she's being honest, but gummies are more of a societal norm nowadays. (And since a certain person accused her of having normalitis, she's very willing to do anything to prove that she's not afraid to live a little, as Amanda suggested.)

She places the bottle in her dresser drawer, tucked away behind her bras and underwear, and waits. She toggles through her endless streaming apps, trying to find something on TV to occupy her time until it kicks in. She thinks about pouring a glass of wine, but responsible Olivia steps in and reminds her that she has no clue how she'll react to this stuff, and wine could put her over whatever edge she's reaching for.

So, she waits. An hour goes by, and she's beginning to curse Amanda because she doesn't feel anything. She doesn't feel relaxed, or drunk, or even horny. Nada. Laughing to herself, she unlocks her phone, ready to text both Carisis with a litany of sarcastic remarks, when she hears a knock at her door. As she gets up to answer, already knowing it has to be one of the four people on her approved list (and three of them either working or smothered in children), she feels a wave of dizziness.

Oh sure, now it kicks in, she scoffs to herself. And holy fuck, Amanda was right- sneaky was an understatement.

She practically stumbles to the door, legs wobbly, brain buzzing with euphoric bliss. She feels light, happy, and perfect, and she wonders if it's the edible or the promise of the person on the other side of the door. Before she answers, she steadies herself with a deep breath, then flings the door open haphazardly. Elliot's raised eyebrows and amused smirk give her away before she speaks, and now she really wants to curse Amanda, Sonny, or whoever delivered Stabler to her doorstep.

"Hey, Liv."

She giggles. (Why the fuck did she giggle?) She concentrates hard, trying to control her laughter and say something profound, but all she can muster is a ridiculously flirty "Hey, El."

She stands aside, letting him into her space, and takes a long look at his ass as he meanders past her. She feels sloth-like, her eyes and head not going north quick enough, and she hears Elliot chuckle.

"Why are you here?" She stammers, trying to gain some control over her brain and body.

His chuckle drops into a serious gaze. "Got a text from Rollins. She asked me to stop by and check on you. Said you were taking some medication that might make you loopy."

"Oh, did she?"

"Yeah, and I gotta say, you don't look good, Captain."

"I don't look good? Gee, thanks, Detective."

Immediately, he recognizes his faux pax. "No, Liv, you always look good. What I meant was-"

"-I always look good, huh?" She giggles again when his ears and chest turn a deep shade of red. "Come here," she commands, walking towards her bedroom, a curious yet cautious Elliot in tow.

"I have a secret," she whispers scandalously, flopping onto the bed. "Look in that drawer."

Elliot seems shy as he stands in her bedroom for the first time, recognizing what is often in a top left dresser drawer. "Uh, Liv…"

"Go ahead, I'm not shy. Reach in the back." She waits, eyes fluttering with glee as he fumbles past her bras, his thumb landing on one of her lacy thongs. Finally, he finds the bottle, scrutinizes it, and lets out a bark of a laugh before turning to face her.

"Captain Benson, are you high?"

"Maybe," she grins, before falling backward on the bed, arms fanned out like a snow angel. "Shit, Amanda was right. This feels amazing!"

"Oh yeah? How do you feel?"

She thinks for a second before gleaming at him. "Like my normalitis is cured."

"Well, how 'bout that?" He shakes his head before putting the bottle back in its secret spot. "I was hoping that you wouldn't need something like this to feel normal, Liv."

She laughs again, hearty and loud, yet there's a bite to her words. "Well, according to Amanda, I needed something to release my inhibitions. I guess I'm that much of a buzzkill."

"Nonsense. She just wants you to relax. When do you truly relax?"

"Never."

"Well, okay then. So, you're high, and I should leave and let you get back to relaxing."

She pats the bed. "El… will you just… sit with me for a while?" He joins her without hesitation, yet she can tell he doesn't want to take advantage of her current state, sitting platonically a pillow's length away. Without thinking, she grabs his hand and pulls him closer until they are shoulder to shoulder. She doesn't let go of his hand.

With her other hand, she finds the remote and turns on The Golden Bachelor, snickering as they settle in. "You could go on this show."

"Hey! I'm not that golden yet!"

"I'm just saying, you're hot, and women out there would throw themselves at you."

"I'm hot, huh?" He winks at her as she groans. "I don't need to be on a show. I don't want any of that."

Olivia's eyes darken as she steals his molten gaze. "What do you want, El?"

He pulls their hands up to his mouth, delicately drifting his lips over her knuckles. "I want to take you to dinner. Liv, will you please let me take you to dinner?"

"Yes."

"I'll ask you again when the edible wears off."

"My answer will be the same." She leans in then, bold and sure, and kisses him gently, effortlessly. It's quiet and small- a promise for later when she doesn't feel as sleepy or buzzed. She turns onto her side, and Elliot takes the hint, draping his arm around her and pulling her into his embrace.

"I have another secret."

"Oh yeah?" His voice is low, rough, full of adoration, and she's cocooned, warm and safe. She thinks about the home she's created for herself and Noah, and how much she's missed Elliot in her life. How it doesn't have to be complicated or stressful, how forgiveness has been at the forefront of her mind and heart, but she could never find the words.

Tonight, the words flow unbidden.

"I love you."