After leaving Amanda and Sonny, Olivia is drained. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. It takes a lot out of you to be the one propping people up all the time. Victims, witnesses, subordinates, and her friends. It's Friday, Noah's spending the weekend with the McCann's, and all she wants to do is find some comfy clothes, eat a cold leftover pepperoni slice or two, and pour a glass of her favorite cabernet before calling it a night.
Therefore, seeing her former partner in her lobby is quite the surprise. Elliot's been great for at least the last two years in not coming to her with his personal bullshit. And, it's been months since their respective squads have co-mingled on any cases. Their last real conversation was about her loaning the compass necklace to support a victim's mother. The woman has since returned it but it became too much of a conversation piece to keep answering questions about it. As for them, it's been weeks of 'just checking in' texts and playing tag with voicemails.
"Evening, Cap."
She offers a small but tired grin as he approaches her from a lobby chair.
"Hey, El," she says. "Everything okay?"
"I'm good," he answers. "Just comin' to check on you."
"I wasn't the one that was taken hostage today."
"But you were the one that had to wait, worry, and hope that a good friend of yours made it back home to his family."
She tries to hide how her eyes start to glisten by looking over his shoulder at another resident entering. Of course, he notices and takes a step closer, lowering his voice.
"Can I come up?"
Reluctantly, she meets his eyes and gives him a simple nod. Elliot trails her to the elevator, exhaling a sigh of relief when he sees the empty car. It's a long ride up to her penthouse apartment. Olivia doesn't hesitate when he closes the distance between them and folds her into the warmth of his arms.
"I got you," he rasps near her ear.
With the way she's breathing against the skin of his neck, Elliot can tell she's crying. She's been holding it in all day but he always brings this vulnerability out of her. And, Olivia's too tired to maintain her usually stoic composure. She didn't allow herself to break down in his arms after bringing her son back from upstate after she was shot for the first time, or when he had to leave her again when they last worked together.
But now? Because her Achilles heel is having those she loves in danger and not herself, Olivia's been weakened by today's potential tragedies. All because some recently paroled assholes wanted beer money.
"I'm okay," she asserts, pulling back as the ding announces the car's arrival on her floor. He doesn't let her get far, taking her hand.
"Are you?"
She takes a deep breath.
"I will be."
Elliot gives her an understanding nod and releases her before they move down the hall.
"You and Noah got big weekend plans?"
"He's already started his," Olivia explains. "He's upstate starting a new annual pre-Thanksgiving tradition of picking out a tree, helping with pies, and trying not to play too many video games with his brother."
"I'm sure he's happily failing at that," Elliot points as he watches her open the door, trailing inside.
"No doubt," she says with a smirk.
He takes both their coats, familiar enough with her apartment to find the closet and hang them up. For the first time, she notices how casually he's dressed in a green and blue plaid button-up and dark jeans.
"What are your plans?" Elliot asks.
"A hot shower, cold pizza, and a room-temperature glass of wine."
"I think we can do better than cold pizza for dinner," he offers, watching her take off her boots. "Unless you don't want the company."
"You heard about my glamorous plans," Olivia begins, resulting in his smile. "Eli and Becky driving you so nuts that you're avoiding going home?"
He steps closer, taking an errant hair and placing it behind her ear before dropping his hand again.
"Nah…I just miss you."
There he goes again. Talking to her in that voice, standing so close. After questioning whether or not it'd work between them, Olivia suddenly realizes that he's never going to try to kiss her again. If she wants anything with Elliot, she'll have to make the first move.
So, she does.
Olivia closes the distance between them, places her hands against his face, stands on her toes, and meets his lips. She gives Elliot a firm press, holding herself against his body until he puts both arms around her waist. He changes things up, nibbling on her lower lip and starting to deepen the kiss when she pulls away, leaning her forehead against his.
"We've never done that before," he whispers.
"I know," she responds in kind. "But…I thought it was about time we did," she adds. "And I've missed you too."
Elliot leans away and gives her another quick kiss before releasing her altogether.
"Why don't you go and take that hot shower," he suggests. "I'll figure out something better than cold slices for dinner and find something binge-worthy on your TV."
They've had a lot of important moments since he came back nearly five years ago. She and Elliot seem like two weary soldiers, destined to die on the same battlefield. But tonight, she gets to lay down her armor and she's more than happy to find him there for support.
"Okay," she says, nearly tearing up again.
Twenty minutes later Olivia has showered, donned some capri-length sweats and a t-shirt, completed her skincare routine, and gets ready to discover what her former partner has 'figured out' for dinner.
"Hey there, partner," Elliot says as she sits at the kitchen counter. "Feeling better?"
She watches him move around her kitchen as if he lives there, pulling out spices and utensils from her drawers and cabinets, ingredients from her fridge.
"It definitely helped," Olivia answers. "What you makin'?" She asks. "It smells amazing by the way."
"Just a little chicken stir-fry."
"Just a little—since when are you Bobby Flay?" Olivia asks.
Elliot laughs as he uses a spatula to drop moderate helpings on two plates. He puts both on the counter before popping the cork on a bottle of red and pouring her a glass.
"I assure you I haven't turned into a professional chef," he answers. "Got tired of ordering takeout and decided to figure out some simple meals."
"Thank you, Elliot," she says. "This looks great."
They catch one another up as they eat. Becky's insane cravings for waffles and chocolate pudding. How close she and Bernie have become. Noah's new preoccupation with the Wicked movie soundtrack.
"It was driving me nuts," she tells him as she loads the dishwasher. "He was using it to soothe a recently broken heart but I am not sad about getting a break."
"Aw, poor kid," Elliot says, wiping down the stove and counters. "But he seems outgoing and happens to be at that age where he'll probably be in love again next week."
He extinguishes the kitchen light before trailing her into the living room where she's grabbed the remote and a spot on the sofa.
"From your lips to God's ears," Olivia tells him, skipping through shows. "I don't know what's worse, heart eyes Noah or sulking Noah."
"I'd take heart eyes if I were you," he offers, giving her a few inches of space. "Heartbreak does not get easier with age."
"Trust me, I know."
There's a silence between them as she settles with Ozark on Netflix.
"Was it Tucker?"
"What?"
"That broke your heart?"
"Uh, no," she answers. "I'm pretty sure I broke his."
"Cassidy's too?" Elliot asks with a knowing smirk.
"You run an investigation into my social life or just take Fin out for a few drinks?"
"Neither," he answers, smirking. "Me being a detective and all," he begins with a horrible southern accent, making her laugh. "I figured out your Ed was Tucker, all by my lonesome."
"And Brian?"
"Sorry, Liv. Sworn to secrecy on that one."
"Course you were," she says. "And no, things didn't work out with Cassidy either," she reveals. "What started as two people having fun and reminiscing, turned serious then…turned a little sour."
"Still not hearing about this broken heart of yours."
Olivia eyes him as if he's being ridiculous. But when she sees he's got that same dog-with-a-bone stubbornness he's always had, she decides to tell him.
"You didn't know him," she says. "He was an executive ADA."
"What happened?"
"He was put in charge of a new at the time, Public Integrity unit," she explains. "They would've been looking at wrongful convictions from SVU and other units and that meant—"
"—A conflict of interest."
"Yeah," she sighs. "And we never disclosed so we had to pretend that whatever we had…never existed," she adds. "We weren't together that long so I can't say I was head over heels, but it was the closest to heartbreak I had so soon after…"
Olivia looks away from him, renews her focus on the television. He gives her a few moments before he prompts her to continue.
"After what?" Elliot asks.
"After you left."
He reaches for the remote, turns off the TV.
"After I'd decided to retire, at Kathy's…demand, I started going to therapy a few times a week," Elliot begins. "Talked about my parents and how I grew up, stuff with my kids, and eventually I got around to the nightmares."
"Nightmares are understandable," Olivia points out. "Jenna was around the same age as the twins were, El."
"They were about you," he surprises her with. "Guess Kathy got tired of me waking up screaming your name," he adds. "I had recurring dreams of you taking Sister Peg's place bleeding out on the precinct floor."
She's speechless.
"They stopped after a while," Elliot informs her. "But she noticed how…unhappy I was, my sulking, being unfocused, making excuses to be anywhere but home," he explains. "I took Eli to every kid movie that came out, daily trips to the playground, street fairs, and beach visits to see Mama."
"You were just as much a workaholic then as you are now," Olivia reasons. "I'm sure you were bored out of your mind and probably more than a little depressed."
"No, Liv," he asserts. "Even if I wasn't ready to admit the extent of my feelings," he continues. "Losing your best friend breaks your heart too."
She takes a moment to sit with that.
"Whose idea was it to move to Europe?"
"Mine," he admits. "First it was just an extended vacation. But once I started working again—"
"—It was easier to stay away."
"It was less painful," he corrects. "And less of a temptation after I found out about Lewis."
Olivia's mouth hangs open in shock. Abruptly, she stands.
"You," she begins, then takes a breath. "You knew? All this time and—and you knew?"
Elliot follows as she returns to the kitchen. He watches as she skips the wine and goes straight for the Jameson.
"I didn't find out until after he'd killed himself," he explains. "It's the reason Kathy didn't believe we hadn't stayed in touch," he adds. "Because if I had known, if I had—there's no fucking way I wouldn't have come back sooner, Olivia."
She stands at the counter in the exact same spot she told him she wasn't ready to act on what's between them, been between them for decades. Her eyes glisten as she sets the glass down and rests her palms against the granite surface at her back.
"I don't know if I'll ever be able to do this with you, Elliot," she says. "Maybe this relationship is better without the complications of anything more."
He moves to stand before her.
"We've already been doing this, Olivia," he points out. "Talking, texts, emails, the few cases we've worked together," he continues. "You being there for me, for my family— trusting me with Noah."
"All things I would've done when we were partners," she tells him. "Nothing's happened that we can't just chalk up to the familiarity of what we were for twelve years."
Elliot smirks.
"I don't remember you kissing me before."
"Well, it's been a hell of a day and I…haven't seen you in a while," she admits. "It was a moment of weakness."
He closes the distance between them, palms her face, and leans closer.
"What are you doing?" Olivia asks.
"Having a moment of weakness."
When he presses his lips against hers, he drags his tongue along the seam of her mouth until she opens for him in a gasp. Immediately he deepens the kiss, tasting the Jameson she sought out from pain and disappointment, trying to remove all traces of those feelings and replace them with passion and love.
"What if—", she begins before Elliot kisses the question off her lips.
"Every relationship has the possibility of not working out, Liv," he reminds her. "And although we both work too much," he adds, garnering a smile from her. "We're better communicators than we were back then, no one else is gonna put up with us so we may as well be together."
"Such a sweet talker."
"Also…I'm never gonna love anyone else the way I love you, Olivia," he surprises her with. "If it doesn't work out with you, it's not gonna work out with anyone."
Her eyes shimmer with tears again before it's her kissing Elliot this time. She slides both arms around his lower waist and nibbles on his upper lip before stealing into his mouth to taste him again and again.
"Maybe it's time I had this too," Olivia manages after catching her breath. "Support, comfort, and a soft place to land on days I feel so…helpless."
She releases his waist to grasp his biceps, smooth her palms over his shoulders, across his chest, and down his abdomen, both noticing the growing bulge in his jeans.
"Well…maybe not so soft," Olivia adds, making him smile.
"You almost lost Carisi," Elliot begins. "You're vulnerable and I don't wanna feel like I'm taking advantage of your shitty day."
"It's not about that," she tells him. "This isn't my first shitty day or even the first time I've wanted you," she points out. "So waiting another 24 hours or another 4 years isn't gonna change that," she adds. "I love you too, Elliot."
Slowly, deeply he's kissing her again. He picks her up, legs around his waist, and carries Olivia into her bedroom. After trying to prepare him for the visual of her scars, Elliot uses his warm mouth to kiss every visible inch of her skin. He sucks and nips on her breasts, creating a flush over her body before finding his way between her thighs, giving her the kind of orgasm that leaves a tear in her eye and his name on her lips.
"Fuck, I needed that," Olivia says after catching her breath.
"Me too," Elliot tells her. "I can already tell I'm never gonna get enough of the way you taste."
"Long-held fantasy?" Olivia asks.
"One of many."
"Do tell," she says.
"I'd rather show you."
He climbs up her body, resting his length against her folds, warm and heavy before sliding back and forth against the moisture he finds. Olivia draws his face to hers, placing one hand on the back of his neck, kissing him thoroughly as she takes hold of him with the other, guiding Elliot inside her for the first time. Both groan at the sensation.
"God, Liv you—"
"—Feel so good."
They start slow and steady, learning one another and establishing a deep, penetrating, and satisfying rhythm. His is a languid, Sunday morning, 'we have all day', kind of stroke that she never wants to be without. Elliot's touch is constant. His hands roam her skin, his warm mouth suckles her neck, her nipples, and her lips as if he can't get enough. He grips her hair firmly enough to tug her head aside, latching onto her neck. Despite the obvious passion mark he'll leave behind, Olivia can't bring herself to care. There's not a nerve ending that isn't aware of him. All five of her senses are heightened as if she popped a few tabs of Ecstasy with her Jameson. It's what finally connecting with your other half feels like. No wonder she was scared of this.
Nothing compares. If they don't get it right, she's abandoning love altogether.
After Olivia bends her knees towards her chest, he inevitably gets deeper, intentionally angling his pelvis to rub against her clit. Missionary may be too vanilla for some, but there's a reason it remains high on the list of sexual positions. It's effective. He increases the pace, and minutes later they fall over the precipice one behind the other and into the heavenly bliss of oblivion.
"If this is gonna be what it's like when you do an in-person check-in," she manages. "Feel free to stop by whenever Noah's out of town."
Elliot laughs as he gathers her against his chest, running his fingers through her hair.
"I'll keep that in mind."
It's quiet between them for a few moments before he breaches the quiet.
"I didn't think it was possible," he tells her.
"What's that?"
"To miss something I've never had," he answers. "But if we'd never done this, I would've missed it for the rest of my life."
"I'm already naked, Elliot," Olivia says, garnering a laugh. "You can stop trying."
"Liv."
"I know what you mean," she offers, caressing the scant hair on his chest. "Being intimate with you felt like something we've done a hundred times before," she adds. "As tumultuous as our partnership was and as confusing as things have been since you came back, the connection we have has always felt…"
"Right."
"A little too right," Olivia tells him. "Maybe we wouldn't have been so heartbroken if one of us would've left sooner."
"Like when?" He asks, incredulous.
"After two years, maybe?" She asks. "That's the average time most cops can tolerate special victims."
"You remember when I put that protective detail on you?" Elliot asks.
"Of course," she says. "I was pissed at you for a solid week."
"And how long were we partners then?"
"I know it was during our first year, Elliot," she answers, sitting up to look him in the eyes. "But you were just being an overprotective asshole."
"You think Munch would've done the same for Jeffries?" He asks. "Or Carisi would've done that to Rollins?"
"Not if he wanted to stay above ground," she answers, garnering a telling smirk from Elliot.
Olivia rests against her tufted headboard, hit with the realization of just how long he's been in love with her.
"I thought everything started with Gitano."
"Everything started when Cragen said, 'Detective Stabler this is your new partner, Detective Benson'," he confesses. "I just lived in the land of denial until Gitano," he adds. "Between my vows and Catholic guilt, it was hard to admit to myself that it wasn't Kathy who was the love of my life."
"There really were no good choices were there?" Olivia asks.
Elliot joins her in sitting against the headboard and takes her hand in his.
"Good or bad, right or painful, those no-win choices lead us right here…together," he reminds her. "Of all my regrets in this life, the biggest one will always be not saying goodbye when I left. I'll do whatever I can to make up for that."
"This was a fun start," Olivia tells him, garnering a smile. "But…just keep showing up, Elliot."
"That's it?"
She turns and puts her right leg over his lap to straddle him, then puts her arms around his shoulders. He rests his hands on her waist.
"No," she answers before kissing him passionately for long moments. "Until one of our cells rings with work or kid issues, you can show the love of your life what 25 years of fantasies feels like."
Elliot takes his index finger, runs it down the center of her chest then leans in to place a single kiss over her heart.
"I think I can do that."
E/N: Does anybody review any more?