She couldn't believe that they were finally here. The feeling of his warm lips moving against hers was almost surreal. The gentle whooshing sounds of the ocean added to the dreamlike fog surrounding the moment.

In that moment, there was nothing else; there was just him surrounding her. Loving her. Wanting her. She knew loving him would be all-consuming. Years ago, she admitted that he had taken too much room in her life. There was never room for anything or anyone else. Their relationship may have never been sexual, but that didn't mitigate its intensity.

Her heart pounded relentlessly in her chest as his tongue traced the shape of her bottom lip. Every nerve burned with warmth, and she let out a breathless moan when he pulled her lip into his mouth, sucking it gently.

Her hands, which had been passively resting on his shoulders, began to press deeply into his skin. She explored the muscles of his back through the cotton material of his shirt.

He grated his teeth lightly over her lip, tugging gently until he pulled back to view her face. He seemed to be looking for some sort of reaction, maybe permission. She waited for him to say something, and when he remained silent, she prodded him. "What's wrong?" She spoke softly, noting the tears beginning to well up in his endless blue eyes.

He shook his head, clearly still at a loss for words. He silently brushed a lock of hair away from her face, the skin of his rough fingers brushing high on her cheekbone.

She found herself lost in the flecks of gray in his turbulent blue eyes. Her fingers moved on their own accord, lightly tracing the familiar features of his face. A face she knew better than her own.

"I can't believe you're real and that you're here." His voice lowered. "It feels like a dream."

She lightly pressed on the back of his head, urging him closer. His warmth surrounded her as she nuzzled her face into the side of his neck. "I know." She admitted while pressing her lips firmly into his neck.

His stuttered breath left her grinning. With a firm push on his shoulders, she rolled him onto his back. Her legs landed on either side of him as she straddled his hips. She sat up, her ass pressing against him. Her hair draped in loose curls around her face as she hovered over him.

"You dream about me?" She wondered aloud.

Of course, she dreamed about him. She'd dreamt about him in every possible way. Even on days she hadn't given him a thought, she found the man haunting her subconscious.

Most of the time, they were just working, doing mundane day-to-day things. Things that at the time felt ordinary, but things she desperately missed when he was gone.

Occasionally, he showed up in very domestic sorts of situations. Morning coffees or shared dinners. Benign snapshots of a shared life. There was peace in those dreams. A sense of belonging.

But every now and again, her heart, mind, and body betrayed her, and she found herself caught in the throes of a passionate encounter. His hands would ignite every cell in her body until she was trembling and calling his name.

But whatever the dream entailed, it always ended the same way. She always awoke in the thick, suffocating darkness with a deep-rooted ache vibrating through her soul.

His hand lifted to her face, pulling her from her thoughts. and he pulled her down, kissing her sweetly.

"Nearly every night for the past twenty-five years."

She wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the confession, but the look of complete sincerity in his face stole her breath. She dipped down, brushing her lips over his, and asked, "What did you dream about?"

His hands drifted down her back and settled just above the curve of her ass. Everything," he said as he sealed his lips over hers.

-000-

His hands were on her ass. Olivia Benson was allowing him to put his hands on her, and the realization pulled an impassioned groan from his lips. He needed more. So much more.

When she pulled back, she ground her ass into his pelvis, and his hands reflexively tightened over her skin. He caught her gaze. He needed to know how far he could take this.

As if sensing the question in his eyes, she gave him a little self-satisfied smile before she reached for the hem of her shirt. There was no way she was taking her shirt off.

With one swift move, she pulled her shirt over her head, the white, silky fabric billowing as it fell carelessly to the floor. He sucked in a breath at the sight of her.

She leaned back slightly, accommodating his sweeping gaze. He swallowed deeply as he drank in the picture before him. There she sat, her ass in his lap, completely and confidently exposed. Her white lacy bra made her tan skin seem even more golden. The compass, his compass, lay against the bare skin just above the center of her breasts.

"Damn Liv," he breathed out. He lifted a hand, but hesitated. "Can I touch you?"

She nodded. "Yes." Her voice was so soft, he almost didn't recognize it.

His fingers brushed over the surface of the compass hanging around her neck. She closed her eyes, and her cheeks began to flush a beautiful scarlet. His fingers left the compass and ran a trail directly down the center of her chest and between her breasts. He continued to allow his hands to wander over every inch of exposed skin. She was warm and soft, and everything he ever wanted. His heart beat wildly in his chest, and he couldn't hold back any longer.

He rolled them so she lay beneath him, her hair splayed over the white pillows under her. He brought his mouth to where the compass sat, his lips roaming the exact path his hands had previously taken.

A light gasp escaped her lips as his tongue ran along her pant line. Her back arched. "Oh God," she breathed out.

He began kissing, a line up her abdomen and back to her chest before finding her lips again. "What did you do with my team?" He mumbled the words against the corner of her mouth.

Her lips brushed over his in a light, open-mouth kiss. "I told them to get something to eat. Said I'd call them when I needed them back." She pulled back, smirking. "I figured I was going to yell at you a lot more."

He placed a row of suckling kisses down the column of her neck. "There can still be yelling," he said suggestively.

She held back a smile. "You think you can really make me yell, Stabler?"

He began nibbling at her earlobe. "Oh, I know I can," he whispered suggestively.

"Prove it."

-000-

Olivia hadn't come to the motel intending to end up getting naked with Elliot. It just sort of happened. Elliot lay next to her with his eyes closed, one hand tucked behind his head, and the other holding her tightly against him. Her fingers drew nonsense patterns across his chest. As they basked in the glowing silence. After a moment, her brow furrowed. Something was missing.

"Elliot?"

"Hmm?" He responded with a short hum.

"Where's your crucifix?" She felt a little unsettled at the absence of an item that was a permanent fixture on his body. A symbol of his faith.

His eyes opened in surprise, and he covered her hand that rested on his chest. "Uh," he choked on the emotion that threatened to bubble free. "It's, um, at the beach. I left it," he said, closing his eyes and sighed, "I left it with a book, our book. She's not going to have a real funeral, not really. She didn't have a lot of family, and it just seemed like something to... I don't know. Something to mark her loss."

"Okay," Olivia responded simply. There wasn't much she could say. This loss cut him deeply, and nothing could bring that young woman back. She couldn't heal him, but she could help him find justice for her. For Rita.

"Can I?" She sat up, and the sheet fell away from her. "Can I see the case files?" She reached out a hand to touch his face. "I want to help. Let me help."

His eyes reddened as he fought back tears. "I'd love that. Thanks Liv." He tugged her down so they were pressed chest to chest. He kissed her deeply, with meaning.

Just as she felt herself getting lost in the lip play, there was a jiggle on the door handle. She jumped back. "What the hell?"

Elliot shot up just as quickly. They could easily make out the voices on the other side of the door. "Damn it, Jet, this key isn't working!"

"Yeah yeah. Their system sucks. Last time, I had to run the thing like five times before it unlocked the door."

"Shit." Olivia's eyes flicked around like a terrified deer. "I didn't call them!" She said frantically.

"Well, they're here now!" Elliot whispered loudly.

She wasn't sure if she wanted to hide herself beneath the covers or make a run for the bathroom. She didn't have time to decide because she heard the lock click open.

She threw the comforter over herself, so she was completely hidden. That left Elliot shirtless, with the sheets tangled around his torso.

The door began to open, and he chuckled quietly. "You don't think they are going to notice the human-sized lump under the blankets."

"Shut up!"

Jet stepped into the motel room but immediately stopped. The men behind her bumped into her, but her large eyes took in Elliot, sitting half naked in bed, and the bump beneath the sheets, who was quite obviously Olivia. Elliot met her gaze with a grin.

"Seriously!?" She scolded.

He shrugged. "It's my room."

"Ugh." Jet pushed back on the men behind her. They hadn't gotten a good look at the scene before them, so they began complaining immediately when Jet whisked them away. "I promise you don't want to go in there right now." She was all but begging them to leave. She shot a glare over her shoulder in Elliot's direction. "Call us when we can actually come back!"

He laughed to himself as the door fell shut. "You can come out now."

She flipped the comforter off of herself and shook her head in his direction. She wanted to be pissed, but the goofy grin on his face was contagious. "I hate you." She said it with a grin.

"No, you don't," he said while reaching his arms out for her.

She slid back into his embrace and grumbled. "Yeah yeah. You're right." She pressed a kiss on his chest. "I kind of love you," she admitted."

She could feel his smile when he kissed the top of her head. "I love you too."