Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Olivia sat in her parking space, too tired to get out, trying to remember the last time she was home for longer than twenty minutes. Wondering what her apartment would even look like after Noah basically had free run of it for the better part of a week, especially considering his only source of guidance had come from Jorge’s sixteen year old daughter, whom Olivia had paid a small fortune to sleep in her tiny closet of a guest room and walk her son to and from school for five days. It wasn't an ideal situation, but Isabel was smart, and her father was as overprotective as Olivia was. Plus, he was usually on duty downstairs, and his wife made sure Noah had dinner every night this past week. Martha’s move to Virginia to be closer to her grandchildren was lousy timing, but there was never a good time for the person who kept your child safe, fed, and on track at school more often than you did to move six hours away. 

In her darkest moments, Olivia questioned her life choices. She couldn’t imagine her life without Noah or SVU, but the latter didn’t make it easy to be a good parent. When Judge Linden put Noah into her arms, Olivia hadn’t hesitated, and she would do it again in a heartbeat, but she wondered sometimes if she had been the best thing for him. If she should have only agreed to foster him and tried to find him a two parent home, a family like the McCanns with a mom and a dad and a house with Christmas lights and a yard to play in. Someone who could give him something more… normal… than the life Olivia had given him. 

Sometimes she regretted not following Ed’s lead when he said he was ready to retire, make a life together, and travel more, but she couldn’t fathom it. She certainly hadn’t been ready to retire, and Ed would have been miserable waiting at home for her with Noah all the time. It would have ended badly, even if Ed hadn’t been dying of cancer. No man would be okay with her compulsive dedication to the job. Not in the long run. 

That’s a lie, a little voice inside her said. There’s one man who would understand. You were just too afraid to let him try, and now you haven’t seen him in eight months. You’ve barely even heard from him. 

Because he’s as obsessed with his job as I am, she countered. And that’s why it would never work between us. He’s the one man who would leave me feeling abandoned rather than the other way around. I may disappear for a week at a time during a tough case, but he leaves for months. Hell, he left for ten years.

After she and Ed parted ways, she’d not so much given up on finding someone to grow old with as she’d accepted the way things were. She’d contented herself with being a mom and being a lieutenant, eventually a captain, and that being enough. And most of the time, it was enough for her. She just worried it wasn’t enough for Noah. That she wasn’t enough. That she was shortchanging him and messing him up. Sometimes she felt like she should just come out and ask Noah if he thought he would be happier living with the McCanns through the week, but she was terrified of the answer. Terrified he would say yes, that he craved the version of normal they could offer him but Olivia never could. She knew Noah loved her, but she also felt like he envied Connor's life and that the McCanns judged the one she and Noah led. There had been comments over the past year from Ginny. 

“I don't know how you do it all by yourself all the time.”

“You know he can stay with us as much as he wants. As much as you need him to.”

“He's always welcome with us, Olivia. He can stay the whole summer!”

In July, Noah had been invited to accompany the McCanns to Orlando to visit the theme parks and then for a five night Disney cruise. He was gone for over two weeks, and it killed Olivia to be away from him for so long. To know they could give him experiences she never could because two weeks off work was never a guarantee for her, no matter how far in advance she planned it. It was a miracle she’d found time to get to Paris with Ed when she had. Every vacation she’d tried to plan since then had fallen through, and even if it didn't, the truth was that it felt odd to take longer than a weekend trip with just the two of them. Like something, or someone, was missing. Like they weren't a real family if it was just the two of them, no matter how much she told Noah otherwise. So in spite of her insecurities, she was grateful that the McCanns always wanted to include him and that Noah had gotten so close to Connor and wanted to spend time with him. 

She never minded paying his way – insisted that she pay his part. On the one hand, it was nice to know Noah was having fun with his brother, but it made her feel like the worst parent in the world to know she couldn't do the things with him that Matt and Ginny could. And when Noah was cranky and being shuffled between her and Fin and the Rollisis and any trustworthy sitter she could find, he would snap sometimes, poking at Olivia’s insecurities.

“Why can’t you be a normal mom? Why can’t I just sleep in my own bed? I’m old enough to stay home alone. We have twelve locks on our apartment door!”

“We don’t have twelve locks.”

“Close enough! And just because you’re never home doesn’t mean I don’t want to be! I don’t want to stay here! I wanna sleep in my own bed!”

Those were Noah’s words to her when she had to call him last Sunday night and tell him she wasn’t going to make it home that night. They’d gotten called away from the restaurant after the baptism because a girl had gone missing in broad daylight. One minute, she was being hit on by Carisi’s cousin – like that was even a possibility. She’d do a hell of a lot worse to that poor man than just tear his heart to shreds. No nice guy deserved to be tangled up with her, even if it would help matters to have someone in her life she could depend on at times like this. Someone with a normal job who worked regular hours that she could at least let into her life enough to have a key to her place and whom she could trust to be with her son when she couldn’t. Someone who would roll over when she finally came home on a night like tonight and reach for her. Put his arms around her and snuggle in close and tell her it was going to be okay. That she was doing a good job and not to worry about it. That he was just glad she was home for a few hours.

But one minute she was being hit on by Carisi’s cousin, contemplating the necklace around her neck and whether or not Elliot meant for it to lead her to him or if it was just a wish for her to find someone else so that he could finally let himself off the hook, and the next she was bogged down in a case that made the walls feel like they were closing in around her. 

Her clothes from the baptism were still crumpled up in her go bag, and she wondered idly what the man at the dry cleaners thought about the clothes the ‘lady cop’ was always bringing in. The blood stains she perpetually asked him to attempt to remove. She tried to remember a time she’d been dressed up for an occasion that hadn’t ended with her being called away because a woman had been assaulted and murdered or a child had gone missing. Or in this case, a teenage girl. She tried to remember Noah’s adoption day, his own baptism. Whether she had been able to stay and enjoy him, tuck him into bed those nights, or if she’d had to hand him over to Lucy and head back to work instead. But she couldn’t. She could recall what cases fell into her lap around those times but not the specifics of their timing. 

What she knew was that more often than not, her time spent just being a friend, mother, or godmother came to an abrupt end because duty called. There was always another crisis, another victim, and tonight she was depleted. Completely devoid of energy and emotion and any will to keep fighting what would likely still be a losing battle tomorrow. She’d known from the start that this case was going to consume her. That she wouldn’t rest until Maddie was found, one way or the other. 

And yes, her job was brutal and took a terrible toll on her life, but last Sunday she’d been surrounded by all the people who made that bearable. She sat in that church beside her beautiful boy, and she held that perfect baby and wiped holy water away from his brow, and she felt…hopeful. For a few hours, she’d been allowed a brief respite, a glimpse at what a normal life could mean for her if she wasn’t too married to the job to ever reach for it. 

At least she had made it through the whole church service. She’d even been granted enough time to share a meal with everyone afterward, and honestly, it was more than she’d expected to get from the day. But it wasn’t enough. She still had to abandon her son with Rollins and Carisi – like they didn’t already have three kids to wrangle – and drag Fin and Velasco out the door with her, effectively ruining their afternoon as well. 

And now they were a week into this case, but they were no closer to solving it. Olivia had finally melted down because they were getting nowhere, and McGrath was all over her ass, along with the media, and Maddie’s photos and the terrified look in her mother’s eyes haunted Olivia’s thoughts every second of every day. Fin recognized it, the fact that she was teetering on the edge. That something had to give or she was going to lose it completely.

“Why don’t you go home and spend some time with Noah?” he suggested, coming into her office and closing the door.

“He’s at the McCanns’ through Monday. Rollins and Carisi drove him up yesterday after school. Left their kids with Carisi’s mom so they could have a few hours away together.”

“Man, that’s sad when driving back from Woodstock constitutes a date night.”

“I think they just didn’t want to get stuck with Noah for the weekend.”

“You know that’s not true. They love him and would do anything for him. Just like I would. But seriously, Liv. Go home, get something to eat, grab a shower, and a few hours of sleep. I can hold down the fort until morning.”

“I can’t. McGrath–”

“McGrath will still be a dick when you get back in the morning.”

“You go for a while,” she argued. “I can order takeout and sleep here just in case.”

“I went home last night, and Phoebe’s working tonight.” Then he stepped a little closer. “Liv, it’s not a suggestion. You have to take a break. You’re no good to the victim if you don’t take care of yourself.” 

Olivia knew Fin was right, but she dreaded walking into that empty apartment. All week, she’d been haunted by past cases – successes and failures. And all of that made her think more about Elliot than she usually did. On more than one occasion, she’d fought the urge to reach out to Ayanna. To beg Elliot’s sergeant to ask him to call her. She thought hearing his voice may center her. She even thought running through the case with him may shake something loose. But she had survived for thirteen years without relying on him. She wasn’t going to be the one to say she needed him now.

Gathering up all of the bags of clothes she had in her vehicle, she clicked the locks and headed for the lobby. If nothing else, she would take most of Fin’s advice. She would strip out of the clothes she’d had on for more than eighteen hours, start a load of laundry, take a shower in her own bathroom rather than at the precinct, and try to eat something. But she doubted she would sleep. She hadn’t been sleeping well even before this case started, and being home alone wouldn’t help matters.

When she finally dragged into the lobby, Jorge greeted her in Spanish even though he spoke fluent English. It had delighted the man to learn that Olivia could converse with him in his native language, and now it was their thing. She was certain Noah had learned more from Jorge than he had from his classes at school. 

“Buenas noches, La Capitana Olivia. Es bueno verte.”

“Asimismo, Jorge. Agradezca nuevamente a su esposa e Isabel por toda su ayuda con Noah esta semana, por favor.”

“El es un buen niño. Pero la próxima vez, no le pagues de más a Isabel.”

Olivia waved him off. She would pay Isabel as much as she damn well pleased, but he continued, explaining that his wife was also willing to help out. That her job had recently cut down on her hours, and she would be glad to be there for Noah whenever Olivia needed her. There were few people Olivia trusted implicitly in her home or with her son, but Jorge and Maria were among them, and some of Olivia’s tension eased. She hadn’t realized how worried she’d been about finding someone new to be with Noah when she got called out at night or couldn’t see him off to school in the morning. 

Tears of gratitude filled her eyes, and without thinking, she hugged the doorman who always took such good care of her and her son. “Esa es la mejor oferta que he tenido en días. La llamaré mañana.”

Jorge patted her back and informed her that she had a visitor. Olivia wheeled around to see a bearded man slumped on the sofa, and her pulse picked up. He looked more exhausted than she did, obviously was more tired if he was sleeping in the lobby of her building. There was a cut on his forehead, he had a black eye, and she thought maybe there was a scrape above his lip, though she couldn’t be certain because of his goatee. Her gaze dropped to his hands, noting the scraped knuckles, and her gut tightened at the thought of him out there brawling at his age without the benefit of his badge, his service weapon, or a partner. 

“Elliot,” she said quietly, adjusting the bags on her arm. The last thing she wanted to do was startle a sleeping cop who’d been deep undercover for the better part of a year. She touched his upper arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. Jesus. Even relaxed, his bicep was rock hard, and she was too tired to keep her mind from going there. To the time he literally carried her out of the diner like she was a lightweight, which she certainly wasn’t. She was tall and strong in her own right, and she had to work at it to feel feminine these days, but not when he stood beside her or, apparently, when he carried her bridal style. Which he’d better be smart enough never to try when she was uninjured, but still. It had fed her fantasies for the past eight months. 

As soon as she touched him, his right hand darted towards her wrist, thick fingers clamping around it defensively, ready to fight back. But the moment his eyes opened, his grip loosened, the rough pads of his fingers caressing her pulse point. She watched his posture relax again. 

“Hey,” he mumbled. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

She straightened up, but he didn’t let go of her wrist. “What are you doing here? Are you finally home?”

He shook his head to clear it and blinked a few times. “No. I have to go back tomorrow. It’s a long story. I could tell it to you over dinner if you have time.” He nodded at the takeout bags on the table beside the sofa. 

She furrowed her eyebrows.  Watching him try to move was painful, and she wondered how beaten up he really was, but she nodded, slipping her hand up to meet his and giving him a quick tug. It was probably better to get him on his feet quickly. His knees, and possibly his back, popped as she propelled him to an upright position. 

“Gettin’ kind of creaky there, old man.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” he muttered. 

Olivia tried to release his hand, but he had other ideas. He gave her an unexpected tug towards him, putting her off kilter. She stumbled towards him, her body meeting the brick wall of his before she could stop it. 

It was awkward with her holding all of her bags and his hand squeezing hers, but he smelled safe and familiar, and she lingered for longer than she should, letting her cheek rest against his, her jaw prickling from the unfamiliar sensation of his beard. She couldn’t remember the last time she was this close to a man with facial hair, but she didn’t hate it. 

“Are you okay?” she asked quietly.

His free arm wrapped around her, just above her hips, holding her against him. “Better now than I was yesterday. How about you?”

She wondered if this was something they did now. Hugged. If so, she didn’t hate it, either. “Better than I was an hour ago.” She didn’t want to be the first to back away, but she also felt vulnerable standing there in the lobby. “Do I smell Wo Hop?”

“You do.”

“Then you’re definitely invited up to my place.”

Elliot smiled finally, his features softening, and Olivia’s stomach fluttered nervously. They moved slowly towards the elevators, two old cops laden with bags. She noticed he had a duffel with him, and she wondered what that meant. 

Silence settled between them, but it wasn’t the comfortable silence of their early years as partners. It was the heavy, pregnant silence that followed Gitano and Oregon and his confession that Kathy was pregnant again.  

The elevator doors closed behind them, and Olivia leaned heavily against the wall after pressing the button for her floor. Elliot’s eyes, though tired, traveled the length of her body before settling just above her chest. 

“Nice bling,” he quipped.

She fought back a smile. “It’s definitely…a statement.”

“I don’t remember it being that big.”

“Probably didn’t look as big in your hand as it does on my neck.”

“But…you like it? Enough to wear it?” He seemed hesitant and uncertain.

She cocked her head a little, suddenly feeling shy, which was not a comfortable or common feeling for her. “I’d wear it whether I liked it or not because you gave it to me.”

His face fell. “You don’t have to –”

“But for the record, I love it. I think it lends a nice flair to my otherwise gothic wardrobe.”

“Why do you wear black so much these days?”

Olivia blinked at the unexpected question. “Do you ever remember Cragen wearing fuschia?”

“Funny.” But Elliot saw through her. He always had. 

She didn’t want to get into it tonight, certainly not with him, but she knew her black on black on black these days was as much a statement as the compass. She was just so jaded and tired and lonely that it seemed to fit her mood more often than not. But she wasn’t depressed, was she? 

Well, maybe a little.  

Definitely wasn't going there with him, so she played it off. “Black is professional. And slimming.”

“You’re the most professional person I know. And for the record,” he told her, leaning in a little from his position against the back of the elevator, eyes sparkling mischievously, “I like your curves. Never try to hide them on my account.”

Heat bloomed in Olivia’s abdomen and spread rapidly up to her cheeks. She couldn’t help glancing down at his left hand to check the status of his ring finger, and upon finding it bare, the heat spread in the opposite direction, making her suddenly aware of the fabric of her pants rubbing against her inner thighs. 

Was this something they did now, too? Flirted openly with each other? Did he get to suddenly decide that for them after eight months away, the last six of which had passed with zero contact?

The elevator doors opened, and Elliot settled his left hand at the small of her back, just off center so that his fingertips grazed her side and gave what seemed like an involuntary squeeze. She couldn’t help walking even slower, soaking up his strength and presence because she knew it would be short lived. She hadn’t admitted until that moment, even to herself, how much she’d missed him. 

So she settled into it and decided that, yes. If this was how he saw them now, then she wasn’t going to be the one to stop him.

“Did Fin call you?” she asked quietly.

“Does it matter if he did?”

She thought about it. “No. I guess not.” 

She knew when Elliot was working a case that he went all in. She couldn't be offended that it had never occurred to him on his own to check on her. In fact, she was surprised that he’d come in person. She hadn't been sure he would even respond if she had asked Ayanna to reach out to him. But apparently, Fin had done it for her. And she was too tired to even feign indignation at this point. 

Tears pooled in her eyes. Maybe he hadn't come on his own, but he was here, even if it was just for a night. That was more than he’d done thirteen years ago.

She thought maybe it was time she stopped being so hesitant where he was concerned, and her defenses were already low tonight.

“You have your key?” Elliot prompted her.

“Yeah. It's right here.” 

She was so flustered that she could barely work the locks, and the words popped out of their own accord. 

“I missed you.” 

She immediately wished she could take them back because now she felt too vulnerable.

An odd sound escaped Elliot’s lips, and Olivia wanted to crawl into a hole. She thought it would be the perfect time for an earthquake or a fire alarm.

But then his fingers tightened on her waist, and he pulled her closer until their hips were brushing. They just stood there stupidly in the hallway for a moment, her trying desperately to get the door to her own apartment open, before he seemed to find his own voice. 

His words were soft, and he was so close that she could smell something minty and feel his breath along her temple.

“I missed you, too, Liv.”

She couldn't stop a couple of tears from spilling over. If he told her again tonight that he cared for her, she knew it was game over. There was no way she could resist him. And it would no doubt end – quite likely badly – but for the first time, that didn't scare her as much as never taking the chance. Anything would be better than this, only seeing him a couple of times a year.

Suddenly, they were in her apartment, and it wasn't nearly as messy as she was expecting. But Elliot’s hand dropped from her waist, and she felt uneasy and uncertain again. 

“Do you want to eat or shower first?” he asked.

She thought maybe she was too nervous and nauseous to ever eat again. “Definitely shower.” She cleared her throat. “But you’ll stay, right? And eat with me after?”

“The food in federal lockup isn't much better than what used to be in your fridge back in the day, so…yeah. I'm definitely staying to eat the food I bought.”

“I’d offer to pay you back, but you do have a kid in college on a detective’s salary.”

His face morphed into a soft smile, and she wondered if he was thinking of a much younger version of the two of them, sitting side by side on the stoop of his apartment from the only time in his adult life when he was a bachelor. She wondered if he ever thought about it, too. How things maybe could have been different if Olivia hadn’t kept running away from him and her feelings after Gitano. If Kathy hadn’t gotten pregnant with Eli. But she couldn’t imagine a world without Eli or Noah, so mostly, she wondered if this meant they were finally getting past it. The rift caused by their decade apart. 

And for the first time in months, she felt hopeful. Like maybe she wasn’t doomed to a life of loneliness and carrying the burdens of the job alone. 

“Make yourself at home, okay?”

She was almost at her bedroom door when his voice stopped her. 

“Hey, Benson?”

“Yeah?”

“Save me some hot water? I’m not feeling too fresh myself.”

The image of a naked Elliot in her shower gave her pause, but she had already decided no wasn’t in her vocabulary tonight. He was here, and he was trying. And she was going to let him.

“Well, I wasn’t going to mention it, but…”

He was already unpacking the food, digging for something in the bottom of the bag. “Keep it up, and I’ll eat your eggroll as well as mine.”

She was suddenly starving, and she didn’t trust him with her eggroll. So she returned to the counter and snagged the eggroll he pulled out, taking a bite of it before he could protest. His deep, baritone laugh followed her through the apartment, and she thought maybe they really were going to be okay.

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Elliot rolled over and reached for her, curling his arm around her waist and pulling her flush against him, needing the proximity. “I can tell you’re awake over there.”

“Mmm,” was the only response he got. 

“Liv, I need you to know this wasn’t why I came here tonight. I didn’t expect…and if you’re having regrets, we can talk about it. Because I have to leave in a few hours, and we both have too much on our minds to leave things unsettled.”

There was a horrible silence, and panic spread rapidly through his entire body. He thought undercover work was hard on a man’s nervous system, but it was a cake walk compared to this. To wondering if he’d blown up a twenty-five year partnership for the second time.

“Do you regret it?” she asked so quietly that he couldn’t stand it. 

He wished he could see her face, but he couldn’t. So he dropped a kiss onto her bare shoulder instead. “No. It was…no,” he reiterated firmly, unable to find words for how perfect he thought it was. “But you’re just lying there not looking at me, not touching me, and if this made things worse, I need to know.”

She shifted suddenly, turning onto her back and glancing over at him. “No regrets. But it’s kind of weird now, right? Awkward?”

“A little because you seem a million miles away, and I don’t know how to take that.”

“I was just thinking about the case,” she told him.

“And here I hoped you were basking in the afterglow of my sexual prowess.”

“Are you fishing for compliments?”

He let out a pent up breath because he kind of was. He had no idea what she was thinking or how they were supposed to navigate forward from here. “Of course not. But I can’t tell if it was good for you or not.”

“Are you for real right now?”

“Well, Jesus Christ, Liv. You cried.”

“I didn’t cry.”

“You did. A little.”

“I didn’t!”

“Olivia.”

“Okay, so it was a little overwhelming for me. I think my brain just sort of short circuited there at the end.”

Elliot was pretty sure it was his brain that had short circuited. The image of her naked body beneath him was seared into his memory. It was all he could see regardless of whether his eyes were open or closed. All he could think about was how tight she’d been around him, how good it felt to lose himself in her velvety warmth. How her hips met his instinctively and her heel hooked around the back of his calf. And the noises she made.  Fuck. He almost came too soon the first time his name left her mouth in a breathy rush, and when she begged him, “Faster, please, god, I need you to move faster.” Then there was the little matter of, “Oh, right there, El. Don’t stop. Keep doing that.” 

So at the time, he thought for sure she was enjoying it, but just before he spilled himself inside her, he opened his eyes, wanting to see her, but her eyes were tightly closed, and a tear slipped down one side of her face. But he was already right there, and he couldn’t stop, so he lowered his face to hers and pressed his lips to the salty skin of her cheek and vowed almost incoherently, “I never stopped thinking about you. I carried you with me everywhere I went.”

And if he didn’t handle this well, if she never let him this close again, if this was his one shot and he blew it, he didn’t think he would survive. He needed to find a way to salvage this because if he didn’t die from embarrassment, Fin would kill him for making things worse. 

He was dangerously close to a panic attack, but she was warm and naked beneath his arm, her breasts peeking out from the top of the sheet, and sure, he was pushing sixty, but if he didn’t know better, he would swear he was getting a little hard again. And she was right. It was all too overwhelming. 

Elliot had known from the moment he laid eyes on her tonight that his resolve was weak, and she was more beautiful than usual because even though she was as tired as he was, the walls she’d had up since he got back three years ago weren’t as high as they typically were. He didn’t see a woman in her fifties who’d been fighting other people’s battles for twenty-five years and leading a squad of her own for the past ten. He saw her at thirty, young and sad, sometimes angry, but always determined to get justice for the victim no matter the personal cost. So tonight she seemed approachable and soft, like she’d been back when he felt like he still had something to offer her and she was his to protect whether she liked it or not. 

But he trusted her to keep the boundary in place because she always had. She was always the one to restore order and balance and an acceptable amount of physical and emotional distance between them on the rare occasion either of them put a toe across the invisible line that separated their partnership from the possibility of… this. It never occurred to him that her walls weren’t just at half mast tonight. That they had completely crumbled and fallen away, piece by piece, laying bare the chasm of hurt, grief, and insecurity that she kept carefully hidden beneath the black clothes and designer jackets. 

In his defense, he’d been undercover for eight months. He missed his kids, he missed his mother, and he missed her. He was lonelier than he’d ever been in his life, and that night in the hospital after Kathy’s accident had been playing on repeat in his mind during the entire ride home. That moment when Elliot realized just how badly he’d fucked up. How much he’d hurt the one person who had always accepted him for exactly who he was and never expected anything from him in return. He’d had plenty of time alone on the road and in crappy motel rooms the past six months to think about loneliness and the toll it could take on a person. 

It wasn’t new to Elliot. Loneliness. He’d felt lonely for most of his life, even when he had four kids clamoring through a house too small to contain them and a wife trying to control the chaos from what seemed to be her permanent place in the kitchen keeping them all fed while she multitasked with the laundry and Elliot dug through the recently folded clothes for a pair of dress socks. But there was a loneliness that came from not feeling understood, not leading the life you thought you would, and there was a deeper, more pervasive loneliness. One that was soul crushing and permeated every fiber of your being. He’d never really felt that kind of loneliness before this gig, but he knew someone who had. He knew someone who carried it with her everywhere she went, wrapped tightly around her like a shroud, even as she worked tirelessly to make those around her feel less alone. 

The moment it hit him, staring into that broken mirror in that crappy apartment, he fractured. Something unimaginable happened to Olivia while he was gone. Something horrible and unspeakable that drove her further into herself than he’d ever seen her. Something worse than a partner of twelve years walking callously away like she didn’t even matter. Something worse, even, than the mother of your children getting killed by a bomb that you wished had taken you instead. 

That was when he messed up. He googled her, finally, and now he wished like hell he hadn’t. After that, he couldn’t get his head back in the game, and he got sloppy. He blew eight months of work – two months of training and six months of driving a fucking truck – by getting another CI killed and then getting himself snagged by the feds, and Ayanna was pissed, but it was hard to give a damn about a fentanyl lab when Olivia had stopped returning his texts six months ago and every time he closed his eyes, all he could see were the pictures of the blank look on her face in the aftermath of William Lewis. 

He couldn’t for the life of him understand why no one had called him, why no one had told him. Not even in the three years since he’d returned from Rome. But he remembered one thing. 

This is a one way street, Elliot. You haven’t asked me the first question about what has happened to me since you left.

When Bell met him at the federal lockup, Elliot told her immediately, “I’m done after this. I can’t keep doing it. I’ll finish this job, whatever it entails, and we’ll get them, but there has to be a better way.”

She looked like she didn’t know what to make of him, but she didn’t argue. “Sergeant Tutuola called me yesterday.”

Elliot’s heart stopped. “And?”

“They’re in the middle of a tough case. The media is all over it, and it’s probably about to go national.”

“Is she okay?”

“Who? The girl? We don’t know yet.”

“Captain Benson.”

“She’s fine. Fin just wants you to call him as soon as you can. Said he needs to pick your brain about something.”

“I’m going home.”

“Elliot, stop. What the hell is wrong with you? We have eight months invested in this. You can’t just walk away.”

“I need to go home, Ayanna. I've barely seen my kids since May. I miss my family.”

“And you miss her.”

“It has nothing to do with her.”

“Don’t blow smoke up my ass, Stabler. We’ve always treated each other with respect.”

“You should have told me about Lewis.”

Bell looked incredulous. “Is that what this is about? It was eleven years ago. She’s fine.”

“No thanks to me.”

“That’s between you and her. Keep it out of my cases.” She softened a little. “And besides, everyone thought you knew.”

“Everyone?” he prompted harshly, wondering where his head had been for the past three years. Wondering why Olivia ever even gave him the time of day.

“It was a big deal, Elliot. You had four grown children and a mother in the area.”

“So Liv thinks what? That I knew and didn’t even check on her?”

“I wouldn’t presume to know what Captain Benson thinks of you, and I don’t care. Whatever this is? It’s between the two of you, but you go home tonight and take care of it. Then you get back in the office tomorrow so we can figure out a safe exit strategy and a way forward from here.”

“Copy that, Sergeant.” He turned on heel to walk away, but she stopped him.

“Elliot.”

“What?”

“It’s fresh to you, but it’s not to her. Whatever guilt you’re feeling? Don’t put that on her. She’s bogged down in a heavy case where a young girl has been missing now for longer than she was. Maybe Lewis is playing on her already. Maybe he’s not. But the Chief of D’s is already breathing down her neck. Don’t add to her burden. Don’t make it about you. That’s not the way forward here.”

Elliot swallowed hard. “I just need to see her.”

“You could have asked. You should have told me if you weren’t fit to be under.”

“I thought I could handle it. I was handling it. It was an honest mistake.”

“Honest mistakes get UCs killed all the time. We’re all still dealing with losing Whelan. Don’t put us in the position of having to deal with losing you, too.”

“Understood, boss.”

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know. To get my shit out of that rat hole apartment and find a cab.”

She rolled her eyes. “You don’t even have your real ID. I’ll give your dumb ass a ride home. Let’s go.”

And Elliot hadn’t drawn an easy breath until he looked into Olivia’s bottomless brown eyes and saw nothing there but concern for him. Not anger. Not recrimination. Not PTSD. Just worry and exhaustion but also genuine concern. Not that he deserved it and not that she’d answered any of the texts he’d sent her since early July, but it calmed him a little. Enough to propel him into action. And then in the elevator, she unzipped her coat a little, and he saw it. She was wearing the necklace. It was all he could do not to drop to his knees and bury his head against her stomach and cry like a baby, but he didn’t think she would take that well. Bell was right. She had enough on her shoulders. She wasn’t responsible for carrying his burdens on top of her own. 

So he made a joke, and it paid off. Before he knew it, he was in her shower, and all he could think about was how she’d looked in that robe when she emerged a few minutes ago with pink cheeks and her hair twisted up in some kind of fabric turban. 

“I don’t know how clean Noah’s bathroom is, but you’re welcome to use mine. I think I left you enough hot water, especially since you won’t need shampoo.”

When he opened the bathroom door to let the steam out, she was drying her hair, and it struck him that aside from any short lived undercover jobs they’d done back in the day, this was the most domestic they’d ever been together. He leaned against the door jamb, just watching her, imagining what life could be like and trying not to want it too much because there was about a ninety-five percent chance she was never going to let him that close. 

She flipped her head down and back up a couple of times before pointing the blow dryer at him. “Want to use it on your beard?”

“What?”

“Your beard. Do you want to dry it?”

He moved towards her, noting that she was dressed now in soft loungewear. “I usually just let it air dry.”

“Come here,” she urged, cocking her head a little to draw him closer. 

Swallowing hard, he moved within reach of her and let her aim the hot air at his face. His eyes closed involuntarily, unable to remember the last time anyone took care of him. He jumped when her fingers combed through the hair on his chin as she switched the dryer off. 

“Softer than I thought it would be.”

“I finally got some beard conditioner for it.”

“So it’s here to stay?”

“You hate it?”

“I don’t. But it doesn’t feel like you to me, either.”

“I can’t shave it until I’m fully extracted.”

“I know. I was trying to remember the last time I was with a man with facial hair.”

Elliot didn’t know what to say to that, but a flush spread across his bare chest. “And?”

“I couldn’t think of one.”

“So I could be the first?”

Her mouth dropped open a little before she recovered. “Who said I was with you?”

“Well, you were wearing my necklace.”

“What is this? High school?”

He shook his head. “No. Definitely not high school. I was a lot more confident in high school.”

“Yeah? I heard you knocked up your very first girlfriend.”

“Ouch.”

She reached for the edge of the cut on his forehead with one darkly manicured finger. “This opened up a little in the shower.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s oozing.” She pulled a small cotton pad out of her makeup bag and dabbed it around the cut. Elliot imagined all the times she must have done this for Noah, and he hated himself for missing all of it. He thought of the times she’d done this for him when they were partners. How undeserving he was of her concern now but how much he craved it. 

He reached up and stopped her. “Liv. It’s fine. Really.”

“I’m worried about you, Elliot. Out there with no backup. You look like hell, and your ribs are bruised.”

“You should see the other guy.” She held his gaze, her eyes glistening, and he relented. “Bell’s pulling me out, all right? I’ll be home and freshly shaven before you know it.”

“I just don’t know what I’d do if anything –”

“It won’t,” he promised. “I was careful, Liv.”

“I hope so,” Olivia said quietly. “Because there are too many people here who love you. You know that, right?”

He froze, wondering what she would say next, but she backed out of it. 

“I mean, the kids have already lost their mother. They need you, Elliot. You don’t always have to take the dangerous jobs. There are detectives who specialize in undercover work.”

“It was our case. It needed to be one of us, and Reyes has young kids." He knew she wasn't buying his bullshit, but she didn't call him on it.

She just sighed, tucking the cotton pad soaked with his blood into the pocket of her hoodie. He watched as she reached for the necklace on her dresser, fastening it back around her neck like it was habit at this point. But he could tell she was upset, unsettled, and the last thing he wanted to do tonight was add to her burden. 

“Let’s just eat, okay?”

He tried to catch her eye, but she wouldn’t look at him, so he snagged her arm. “Olivia, listen to me.”

“It’s fine. I just wanted to remind you that there are people here who want you to come home safely. I understand better than anyone the relief that comes from throwing yourself into work when you’re triggered and trauma is nipping at your heels again, but you have people, Elliot. People who are alive. You have a whole family, and that’s more than a lot of people have.” 

To his dismay, her eyes filled with tears, and he didn’t know how it escalated to this. She must be really stressed for her emotions to be so close to the surface.

He rubbed his thumb along the inside of her upper arm. “I know I have people here. I haven’t forgotten that, and I wasn’t running this time. This job just took a lot longer than I hoped, and it was high stakes. I couldn’t just walk away halfway through. We’re looking for this big fentanyl lab, and –”

Her voice dropped dangerously low. “Fentanyl? Are you serious? Do you know how dangerous that is? Those people would kill with little to no provocation –”

“And their product kills with little to no warning. Someone has to take them down.”

“It doesn’t have to be you! I already lost Simon to this! I don’t have a family to fall back on. I only have Noah, who barely wants to be with me these days.”

“First off, Noah adores you. And second, you have Fin and Rollins and Carisi. You’re not alone. Family doesn’t have to be blood. You know that better than anyone. I haven’t seen my siblings in years.”

“It’s not the same, Elliot. I was just starting to feel like…”

“What?” he prompted hopefully, needing her to say it.

“Nothing,” she whispered brokenly.

“Talk to me. For once in your life, use your words.”

“Oh, fuck you. I use my words a hell of a lot better than you do.”

But then the worst thing he could imagine happened. The tears that had been shimmering in her eyes spilled over, and he felt like the worst kind of ass. 

He tried to walk it back. “Liv, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You keep leaving, Elliot. And I never know when you do if I’m going to see you again. You gave me this necklace, but then you left for eight months, and I don’t know what it means. I don’t know if you want…” She trailed off, crying harder than she had a year ago in her kitchen, and he was certain Fin was going to kick his ass if he found out. He didn’t think he’d even fight back at this point.

Elliot couldn’t process anything. He just wanted her to stop crying. He wanted her to stop doubting him. He wanted her to let him in. But most of all, he wanted to touch her. He wanted to hold her and promise her he would always do everything in his power to get home safely not just for his kids but for her. 

“Liv, come here,” he begged, trying to pull her towards him, but she was trying to back away, and this whole thing had gone so wrong that he didn’t know a way out of it.

She started talking again, still trying to get away from him. “I love Fin and Rollins and Carisi. But it’s not the same, Elliot. It’s not the same as Noah, and it’s not the same as you. And I hate that because they were there for me the whole time you weren’t. They were there for me after you left, and they were there for me when I found Noah, but I can’t help how I feel. I just need you to come home, and I need you to promise me you’ll always be as safe as you can.”

His heart swelled up, emotion clogging his throat and tears filling his own eyes. “I promise, Liv.”

“I’m tired of feeling like I don’t matter to you except as an afterthought or someone to wear your necklace in your absence.”

“You do matter,” he vowed. “You’ve always mattered.”

“I’m tired of you playing fast and loose with your life.”

“I’ll do better.”

“And I’m tired of not knowing what this is between us.”

Elliot wasn’t sure there were words for what this was between them. If there were, he would have voiced them by now. It was more than any words could ever convey.

“You know what this is, Olivia. We both know. We’ve always known.”

She stopped trying to back away and stood still, squaring up her shoulders. Elliot braced himself for whatever she was preparing to lob at him. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be worse than what he thought of himself. 

But the words didn’t come. Instead, she surged forward, taking his face in her hands, thumbs brushing his tears away. “I feel like I’m always losing people. I don’t want to take this chance and then lose you again,” she whispered. “I can’t, Elliot.”

He started to reassure her, but suddenly her mouth was on his, and his world was on fire. At first, he was too stunned to react, but she sighed into him, leaning in with her whole body, and he snapped out of his stupor. His arms went around her waist, anchoring her against him while she ran her tongue along his upper lip before sucking it between her own and giving it a gentle nip. 

Groaning, he tried to reel himself in. Tried to let her lead because he didn’t want to overwhelm her, but he couldn’t help it. If this was his one chance to show her how he felt, he wanted her breathless and panting and begging him for more. And most of all, he wanted his tongue against hers. He didn’t know why that mattered to him so much. He wasn’t a teenager. He knew a good kiss could be light on the tongue and heavy on the lips, but that wasn’t what he wanted. Not with her. So he flicked his tongue across the seam of her mouth, begging for entrance. When she opened to him, he plunged in, seeking more, seeking everything. Wanting to trace the contours of her teeth and her lips so he could memorize them for later. 

She sighed, and finally, her tongue inched forward to meet his, and everything clicked into place. Elliot knew he could do this for the rest of his life and still never get enough. It was more of a dance then, taking turns exploring. Every so often, she pulled back just enough to meet his gaze before crashing into him again. And once she was panting, Elliot wrapped his hand around the back of her hair and tugged, tilting her head back so he could sample her neck, kiss his way down the column of her throat to where the compass lay nestled just above the zipper of her black hoodie. 

And when his mouth was right there, he nudged it out of the way and suckled at the skin it had been covering. 

“I can’t lose you again, either,” he whispered. 

She released a shuddery breath, so he picked his head back up to meet her eyes, and she smiled in a way he’d never seen before. 

“I’m starving.”

He grinned bashfully. “Me, too.”

____________________

While they ate, they talked about her case and his, and he realized how much he missed this. Batting theories around with her, talking through the parts where they were stuck. 

He prepared himself to go when she reached for her phone to check the time, but instead of throwing him out, she said, “Fin said I can’t come back until morning. You up for a night cap?”

“A night cap?”

“A drink, Stabler. Would you like a glass of wine?”

Was he seriously about to sit on Olivia’s sofa drinking wine with her after they’d kissed for the first time? She wasn’t going to toss him out and dodge his calls for another six months? 

“Uhhh, yeah. If you don’t mind sharing.”

And so they sat, side by side, enjoying a moment of silence and a single shared glass of red wine. He hadn’t bothered pouring another when she poured a glass for herself and pushed the bottle towards him. 

“Don’t you want a glass?” she asked.

“I thought we were sharing.”

She rolled her eyes, but she passed her glass to him, and it was what he wanted all along. The simple intimacy of her and him and a single glass of wine. They hadn’t done this since he’d gotten back, but back in the day, it was, for lack of a better term, their love language. They spoke to each other through too much eye contact and short, cursory touches as much as they did through words, and neither thought anything about finishing the other’s food or taking a sip of the other’s drink.

The first time Kathy saw it, she was appalled. She’d brought lunch by the squad room, hoping for a few minutes with Elliot to talk about the trouble Dickie was in at school, Kathleen’s orthodontist appointment, and the fact that Lizzie needed glasses. But he and Olivia had been going nonstop all day with no time for lunch, so he ate just over half of his pasta before offering the rest to Olivia as she walked by to tell him they needed to leave again in ten. 

She took it without question, taking several bites while she returned to her desk to field three phone calls before setting it back in front of him. “I’m good now. Thanks. Hey, Kathy. How are the kids?”

Elliot was starving, so he polished off the rest of the pasta, telling Olivia everything Kathy had revealed in the past fifteen minutes. “Lizzie needs glasses, Kathleen needs braces, and Dickie’s teacher thinks we should have him evaluated for ADD.”

“Sounds expensive,” Olivia murmured, picking up Elliot’s iced tea and taking a sip. “Guess you’re glad to get the overtime this week. Good to see you, Kathy. El, I’m going to hit the restroom before we go, okay?”

Once Olivia was gone, Elliot met Kathy’s eyes. “What?” he asked, finishing his tea.

“You…she…you used the same fork.”

“So? She’s my partner.”

“She’s not my partner.”

“I didn’t offer her your fork.”

“Elliot, it’s weird.”

“It’s not weird.”

“You’d share a fork with Munch?”

“I don’t even like to share a car with Munch.”

“On top of the weirdness of it, think about the optics.”

“What optics?”

“It’s…intimate,” Kathy insisted.

“You’re crazy. It’s not intimate. It’s survival, Kath. We’ve barely had time to eat or sleep in two days. That’s just how it is sometimes.”

But Kathy wasn’t crazy. It was intimate. It was still intimate twenty-five years later sitting there on Olivia’s sofa. He suddenly remembered something and stood up, ignoring the creaking of his knees.

“Hey, I got you something,” he told her, digging in his bag and coming up with a candy bar. “I saw it in a gas station on one of my hauls recently.”

Olivia took the bar from him, and her face tipped into a smile. “No way. Friis Holm dark chocolate? In a gas station off I-95?”

She tore into it happily, breaking off a chunk and popping it into her mouth. “Mmm, I think that tops the necklace.”

“You’re a strange woman, Liv.”

“I can never find these in the bodega.”

“I know. I remember how excited you used to get for a ten dollar chocolate bar.”

“They’re so good with red wine.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“I wasn’t offering to share.”

He reached over and brushed a little piece of chocolate off the corner of her mouth, lingering longer than necessary. “Why’d you stop responding to my texts?”

“What?” she asked around a mouth full of chocolate.

“At the beginning of July. You just stopped responding.”

She swallowed, washing it down with the last of their wine and standing up abruptly. “No. I sent the last text. You’re the one who stopped.” She disappeared into the kitchen, and Elliot sighed, rising yet again to follow her. 

“That is not true. I’ve texted you at least twice a month, every month, and I haven’t heard anything back since July.”

“Well, I haven’t gotten any texts.”

Elliot leaned against the counter, watching her refill the wine glass. “So you thought what? That I just stopped reaching out for six months, even though I had a burner and was allowed to make contact?”

“It wasn’t like it was the first time you’ve gone radio silent on me.”

“Olivia.”

“Well, that’s what you do, Elliot. The first time it was ten years. Six months doesn’t seem that bad.”

“I don’t even know what to say to that.”

“What can you say? It’s just…fact at this point.”

“Do you want to talk about the ten years?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“I did text this time. I didn’t just give you a necklace, text you four times, and then write you off.”

“Well, I didn’t get them.”

“I can show them to you when I get my burner back.”

“Elliot, it doesn’t matter, okay? You’re here now.”

“It does matter. It bothers me that you think I would just stop texting like that. Did you reach out to Jet or Bell?”

“No. I learned my lesson thirteen years ago. I assumed if you wanted to talk to me, you’d find a way.”

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about it.”

“I don’t, but I called you, Elliot. I left messages. And you just…ignored them. Until you needed my captain’s shield at your wife’s crime scene.”

“I was coming to your awards ceremony.”

She scoffed quietly, and he could hear the hurt and betrayal there just beneath the surface. “Why? So you could give me that letter? You thought that was going to make things better? Or was it just about appeasing your wife?”

Things had taken a terrible turn again, and Elliot had no idea how to get back on course. “It wasn’t Kathy’s fault. It was mine.”

“I know it was your fault. I never blamed Kathy. Not for you leaving. Not for you staying gone. Not for the radio silence. And not for the letter.”

Well, this was about the most uncomfortable conversation they’d ever had, but there was no anger. There was just a resigned sadness that crushed his heart a little more with every word that left her mouth.

“I didn’t plan to give it to you,” he argued quietly.

“What?”

“The letter. Kathy was insecure about me seeing you again, and she thought I should write a letter. And yes, she basically dictated it, even though I added that last line, but after it was said and done, I knew I couldn’t. That I shouldn’t. So I never planned to give it to you. Then the bombing happened, and Kathy died, you know? And all I could think was that I couldn’t let you get close again.”

“Oh, trust me. I had no desire to get close at that point.”

“I know, and I get it. But you’re you, and you wanted to be there for the kids, and you wanted to make sure I was okay. But someone had killed my wife, Liv. I couldn’t risk them realizing what you meant to me. And that letter…well, it definitely wasn’t going to make you want to get close to me again, was it?”

“Certainly not,” she agreed.

“I didn’t trust myself to keep my distance, and I wasn’t thinking clearly, but I think I knew that letter would keep you at a safe distance.”

“Mmm. So it was for my protection.”

“No. I’m trying to explain a PTSD induced action that’s basically inexplicable. I fucked up, Liv. Thirteen years ago. Three years ago. A year ago. And apparently, six months ago.”

“I’m past it, Elliot. I wasn’t a year ago, but I made the choice to let it go. So let’s just take things from here and see where we end up.”

“But I feel like I owe you an explanation and an apology.”

“You already apologized.”

“Liv, I’m trying here. I don’t want us to just sweep it under the rug and then let it fester and flare up six months from now.”

“What? You mean when you come back from your next undercover assignment?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he muttered. “I’m a detective with the organized crime task force. I’m going to have to do undercover assignments sometimes.”

“I’m well aware.”

He leaned across the island towards her. “Are you going to hear me out or not?”

“If you want to apologize again, I’ll listen. But I’m not interested in an explanation.”

His heart started pounding. “Why not?” But he already knew the answer. There was no reasonable explanation for what he’d done to her. 

Her next words surprised him, though. Her voice, husky and quiet, pierced not just his heart but his soul. “Because I know why you did it, Elliot. I’ve always known. Because your wife wasn’t crazy for thinking we were too close. We were. I understood you better than I did myself. I knew when you shot Jenna that things were never going back to the way they were. I knew we were on borrowed time after Gitano. I knew, Elliot. I knew how I felt about you and how you felt about me. And I knew how that made you feel about yourself. I knew. But because we’re us, we didn’t talk about any of those things. You made the right decision for you and your family when you left SVU. You just went about it the wrong way. You should have taken my calls.”

“What if you had asked me to stay?”

“You know me better than that,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

He rounded the island, needing to be closer to her. Needing to touch her. “I didn’t trust myself. I was too…fractured.”

“I know,” she nodded. “Trust me. I know.”

Tears spilled down his cheeks, making him feel weak when he’d wanted to be strong for her tonight. “I’m sorry. I know there’s nothing I can ever do to make it better, but I want us to move forward. Whatever that means to you? Whatever you need that to look like? I want to be there.”

Her soft, warm hands cradled his face, and she wiped his tears away with her thumbs. “Then be here when you can. Be here even when it seems like I’m pushing you away. We’ll figure it out, okay?”

He nodded against her forehead, and it occurred to him that here they were again, a full year later, in her kitchen. “And when you’re ready to talk to me, I do want to know, Liv. About everything I missed.”

She let out a shaky breath, thumbs still brushing his cheekbones. “We’ll talk sometimes. But not tonight. Not like this. Not all at once, and not when it feels like the stakes are so high. Not when we’re both depleted. Okay?”

He reached between them, grasping the compass between his thumb and forefinger, warmth coursing through him. She wasn’t wrong. Talking wasn’t their strong suit. They’d always said more without words than with them. But there was one thing he needed her to know. 

“I never stopped thinking about you. Worrying about you. Praying that you were happy and healthy. And I feel like it’s partially my fault that you weren’t.”

“It wasn’t your fault. None of that is on you. It was never your place to be my protector or the grantor of my happiness.”

“But I was supposed to be your partner. For better or worse.”

“And you were my partner, Elliot. As long as it was your job, you went above and beyond.”

“You were never just a job to me.”

She lifted one shoulder a little. “And therein lay the problem. We both know that.”

“But it wasn’t okay what I did. The way I just walked away. I owed you more. You deserved better.”

“We can’t change the past. But maybe we can do better now.”

He studied her eyes, which were tired but clear. She wasn’t trying to back away. She was standing before him exuding strength and an endless compassion for his brokenness that he had never possessed. She made him want to be a better man, but he didn’t know how to tell her that. He didn’t think he should. 

“And you can just forgive me? Just like that?”

“Well, it didn’t happen overnight. It took me three years to get to this point. And I’m not saying I’m completely past it. I’m sure things will crop up that set me back, but I think I’m ready to let you be part of my life again. I’d like you to get to know Noah. Eventually, if they’re willing, I’d like to get to know your kids again.”

His hands settled at her hips, thumbs sliding across the silky expanse of her pajama pants to flick at her hip bones. “I’m ready when you are. And I mean it this time, Liv. I can be steady. I’ll have to do some UC work, but I think I can make it work, you know?”

Leaning away from him just a little, she asked quietly, “Did you ever at least think about calling me?”

“Of course I did. But I was always a coward where my feelings for you were concerned.”

“Did you ever ask any of the kids about me?”

He swallowed hard. “Liv.”

“I just want an honest answer.”

“I know what you’re asking. And the answer is no. I just found out recently.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

“I don’t know why no one told me. And I intend to find out at some point, but right now, it’s too fresh.”

“It was a long time ago,” she reminded him gently.

“I know. And I know exactly where I was and where my kids were and where Kathy was. She’s not here to ask, but they are.”

Olivia backed away suddenly, and he cursed himself. “That’s not what I want. I don’t want you to lay it in their laps or to cast blame. I just needed to know if you knew or not.”

“I didn’t. But someone owes me an explanation.”

“How do you figure? You’re the one who severed contact with me. That’s on you. Not them.”

“It’s more complicated than that, Olivia.”

“It is, and we both know why they didn’t tell you. Why put them through it? They’re your children. They don’t owe you anything.”

“Kathy did, though. She had to have known.”

“Probably. But she’s not here to defend herself. And it’s not on her, either. It was eleven years ago. Let’s leave William Lewis in hell where he belongs, and let’s not tangle Kathy’s memory up with his.”

It wasn’t that simple for Elliot. He didn’t know if he could just let it go, but he admired Olivia’s perspective. Her endless compassion. The equanimity with which she handled personal hardship. The way she was always empathetic to others but so damn stoic when it came to her own adversity. How she loved and protected him and his kids, and how, in her own way, she was vigilant about protecting their mother’s memory. The way she refused to do anything that would make it harder for them or for Elliot. 

What he didn’t see in her eyes, what he hadn’t seen since he got back, and if he was being honest, hadn’t seen much of from her in all the years he’d known her, was joy. And maybe it was hubris to think his presence in her life could ever bring her anything other than heartache. For all he knew, maybe she’d been happiest in the years he was gone. She had, after all, become a mother in that time, and she’d had real relationships. She’d risen up through the ranks and led a squad that from what Elliot had seen would follow her to hell and back. Maybe he couldn’t be part of her happiness, but he didn’t want to believe that. 

She seemed willing to let him in again. She had said last year that she wanted to. And in May she told him it just wasn’t the right moment. But tonight she’d kissed him. 

And he knew in his gut that he couldn’t be happy without her. He’d tried during the years he was gone. He faked it so well that sometimes even he believed it. But there was a reason Kathy never stopped asking him about Olivia. She was convinced Elliot must still be in contact if he still called out his partner’s name in his sleep but didn’t speak it in the light of day. But Kathy was wrong. The reason he did those things was simple. He missed Olivia and was never as happy as he’d been when she was his partner. He didn’t talk about her because even though he’d confided in Olivia any number of things about Kathy, the converse was never true. 

He’d never opened up to Kathy about his complicated partnership with Olivia. He knew he was supposed to, that Kathy was his wife and that a strong marriage was built around being able to confide in your spouse. But Olivia was the only thing in his life that was his, and even when he couldn’t be part of her life anymore, he’d wanted to keep it that way. Keep her memory tucked away safe inside him, away from the prying eyes of his wife, his mother, his kids, and even his priest.  

In some ways, he still wanted that now. He didn’t want to share her yet with his kids or the curious eyes of his sergeant and the rest of his team. He didn’t want her having to defend her decision to let him back into her life to Fin or Rollins or McGrath or anyone else. People accused him of being possessive, and he was. He wanted to pull her into him, put his arms around her again, and do for her what she had always done for him. Give her a safe place to call her own until she was ready for whatever came next. 

And if she was never ready for more, if she regretted the kiss, he could live with that. She said she wanted him to get to know Noah and to be part of her life again. That could be enough for him, even if it wasn’t what he had hoped for. 

“You’re right,” he said finally. “I just…wish I had been here.”

“So do I,” she said simply. “But you’re here now.”

“I like you like this,” he blurted out suddenly.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Just this. Being here with you without your mask.”

“My mask?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I don’t.”

“You’re always stunning to me, Liv, but right now? Seeing you at home and relaxed? It makes me feel…” He trailed off and shrugged.

His awkwardness seemed to embarrass her. “I know I look different without my makeup.”

“You look younger. It reminds me of the old days when we would be on a stakeout for so long that all of your makeup was worn off. Or the time you met me on my stoop in the middle of the night.”

“I don’t think I’m up for a trip down memory lane tonight, El.”

God, she could be prickly sometimes. “You’re missing the point.”

“What is the point?”

“Just that I’ve seen you dressed for work and dates and undercover, but I rarely got to see you like this. And that’s a shame because I think maybe you’re most beautiful like this. This version of you makes it hard to keep my hands to myself.”

Her mouth formed a little oh but no sound came out. Instead, she stepped close to him again. “So don’t,” she whispered.

“Don’t what?”

“Keep your hands to yourself.”

His face flushed full on scarlet. “I wasn’t hinting. I just…wanted you to know how I saw you right now.”

“Elliot.” It was breathy, just an exhalation really, but it did something to him. Something he hadn’t felt in thirteen years, and he couldn’t help it. 

This time, he kissed her. And he didn’t start slow. He went full throttle, cupping her ass with both hands and dragging her forward against his erection. Her fingertips pressed into the backs of his shoulders, and she sure as hell wasn’t trying to get away. 

Without her signature boots, she was shorter than him by three or four inches, and it felt wrong. He was used to them being eye to eye. So he backed her up to the island and lifted her up onto it, moving to stand between her thighs. 

“Touch me,” she urged, nipping at the underside of his chin. 

“Where?” he asked.

“Anywhere. Everywhere. Just touch me.” 

His hands slid up her hips and beneath her sweatshirt, fingers skating along the length of her ribs and up even further until his thumbs brushed the top of her breasts through her bra, making her nipples pucker. His breath caught in his throat, and he leaned back enough to check her eyes, to make sure this was really okay. They were glazed over with desire, and Elliot knew he was about to either get everything he’d ever wanted, or –

“Elliot,” she hissed. “For god’s sake, just touch me already.” 

She dragged his t-shirt up and over his head, discarding it impatiently, before lowering the zipper of her hoodie and shrugging out of it, revealing a simple black bra that pushed her breasts up towards Elliot’s face. Keeping his eyes on hers, he cupped her with one hand, squeezing her nipple between two of his fingers.

When her eyes drifted closed, he leaned in, needing to kiss her again because now she tasted like red wine and dark chocolate – exactly what he always thought she should taste like. And she whimpered. Olivia Benson whimpered into his mouth, clawing at his waist, trying to pull his lower body even further into the vee of her thighs, and Elliot’s resolve snapped. 

“Liv,” he choked out when she backed off for a moment. 

“What?”

“Are you sure?”

“Very.”

And that was it. There was no going back. He couldn’t even say how it happened. One minute they were kissing, him exploring her breasts with his hands like a little kid in a candy store, and the next, she was completely naked on the kitchen island with his face between her legs. And she was encouraging him, arching towards his tongue, urging his mouth against the wet heat of her core. 

She let out a frustrated moan at the bad angle, her limited range of motion, and ordered him, “Bedroom. Now.”

He didn’t hesitate. He straightened up and scooped her towards him, supporting her with his hands on her ass, hoping she’d hold on. 

“Jesus, Elliot. I can walk.”

“Not taking a chance you’ll change your mind.”

Her legs hooked around him, heels digging in just beneath his ass. “I’m not changing my mind. I’m just too old to finish this on the kitchen counter. At least the first time.”

“So there’ll be a second time?”

She smirked. “If you’re good, definitely.”

Elliot had never felt so much pressure in his life, but he put everything he had into the next half hour, using his mouth and his hands to worship her. And he hadn’t thought she was faking. It took a few minutes for him to figure out what she liked, but he could swear he got her there, especially when she bucked up against his mouth while two of his fingers were curled inside her and made the sexiest noises he’d ever heard in his life. He’d never forget the way his name sounded rolling off her tongue in those final moments. 

Then he’d wanted to give her time to come down. Wanted to make sure she was okay. He was  even going to suggest they stop for tonight. Try to be a gentleman about it and let her get some sleep, but the moment he pulled his fingers out of her and pressed a kiss to the soft skin of her lower abdomen, she insisted, “Inside me. I need you inside me, El.”

“Liv, I’m good. We don’t have to. Not tonight.”

“You don’t want to?”

“Of course I want to.”

“Well, I’m plenty wet and still wound up, so…”

She reached for him, pulling his face up to hers and kissing him while she wrapped her hand around his dick and urged him towards her entrance. 

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned. He was so hard that it hurt, and he worried he was going to come just from the pressure of her hand at his base and the feel of her rubbing his tip through her slick folds. 

She urged his hips down, not giving him a moment to think, and suddenly, he was inside her. 

“God, Liv, you feel so good. So fucking good. I’m not going to last long.”

She laughed then, deep and throaty. “Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure there’s nothing you could do to mess this up at this point.” Her hips rose to meet his, hands on his ass, and he bottomed out, burying his face against her cheek.

“Do you know how long I’ve thought about this?”

“I have an idea.” Her voice was husky, and the clutch of her around him was wet but tight, and her hips were bucking beneath him. “Move, Elliot. I need you to move.”

And after that, he was ashamed to admit that he didn’t know a damn thing about what it was like for her. She said her brain short circuited, but his whole existence exploded into nothing but hot, white sensation. Every nerve was zinging, and he honestly wasn’t sure he was going to survive. He actually worried he was going to have a heart attack. So he leaned back, needing to see her face, and that’s when she closed her eyes, one lone tear escaping down the line of her perfect cheekbone and spreading onto the pillowcase beneath her head. And he wanted to stop. To check on her. But it was too late.

And now she was lying there thinking about work, saying things were weird and awkward, and he really dreaded the walk of shame he was about to have to do from her apartment. He wondered if there was a way to salvage things. 

He swallowed hard. “For the record, I usually have more control than that. And if you give me a chance to do it again, I can do it better. If you tell me what you like, I can work on it.”

____________________

It was strange lying in bed with Elliot like this, but Olivia had to admit that it gave new meaning to the term postcoital bliss. Her brain still couldn’t quite process it, but she was warm and sleepy and sated. She felt completely boneless, which meant she was relaxed enough for her thoughts to wander aimlessly, and that was when she had her best breakthroughs on a tough case, so she let her mind drift in that direction. 

That wasn’t to say she minded when he reached for her and curled himself around her. If anything, that made her feel more content and relaxed, but then he started questioning things and getting wound up, and Olivia worried he really was having regrets. But the more he talked, the more she thought he was genuinely feeling insecure. She kept glancing at him, trying to figure out what was really going through his mind because hers was just…blown. 

For the better part of an hour, this man had focused entirely on making her feel good. He’d kissed every inch of her, refusing to let her return the favor no matter how many times she tried. He kept insisting that all he wanted was his mouth on her. And once he started, she had no objections because as it turned out, her partner knew what to do with that mouth. The thought actually crossed her mind that she didn’t blame Kathy for putting up with his bullshit all those years. Olivia certainly didn’t see herself walking away, not that she ever would, but certainly not now that she’d experienced what it felt like to be worshiped by Elliot Stabler’s tongue. She’d stopped thinking of herself as the marrying kind somewhere in her mid-thirties, but she thought maybe she’d make an exception if it meant going to bed or waking up to that every now and then. 

In short, she’d just had the perfect evening and didn’t have a single reservation about it other than wondering how they would navigate things from here and whether or not he was planning to stay the night or get dressed and head out. But apparently, they weren’t on the same page, and her stomach churned nervously. The more he talked, the more she wondered if he thought it was bad for her because it hadn’t been good for him. If he was looking for an out. Maybe he was having second thoughts. It was everything she ever hoped it would be, but now that she thought about it, it was pretty one-sided. He took his time with her, made sure she was taken care of, and she’d been so wound up that she’d rushed things after that. She’d urged him to just hurry up already, when really, she should have returned the favor. But she’d been so impatient at that point. She’d needed to feel him inside her, and she assumed that was what he wanted, too. 

But she remembered him trying to stop her, saying that maybe they should wait, and she was suddenly mortified. Jesus. Had she rushed him into doing something he wasn’t sure about? But that didn’t make sense when his tongue had been on her clit and his fingers inside her seconds beforehand. It never occurred to her he didn’t actually want to fuck her at that point because his body told her that he did.  

And then he looked at her so seriously, so intensely, and said, “For the record, I usually have more control than that. And if you give me a chance to do it again, I can do it better. If you tell me what you like, I can work on it.”

She turned towards him a little more and propped up on her elbow, making enough space between them so that she could really see his face. “Elliot, are you under the impression that wasn’t amazing for me?”

He looked embarrassed. “Well, I don’t know. You shut down afterwards. You turned away. And I could tell you were crying there at the end, so stop saying that you weren’t. And I was too far gone to stop, but I know I should have stopped.”

She sat up, pulling the sheet around her so he wouldn’t have to awkwardly pretend he couldn’t see her boobs for this. “I didn’t want you to stop. And for the record, I think you proved tonight that you have plenty of control. But I don’t ever want you to have to worry about control with me. If we’re going to be together like this, I want you to let go. I want you to enjoy it as much as I do. As much as I did.”

“So you’re not…disappointed?”

She blinked at him, convinced he was putting her on, but she reassured him just in case. “You were amazing.” He always had such an air of confidence, and he’d been no different with her tonight, so she didn’t understand this sudden lack of self-esteem. 

“You’re sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. I was actually just thinking that I felt kind of bad about it being so one-sided.”

“One-sided?”

“Yeah, like it was all about me. But I can return the favor when you’re feeling up to it. I doubt I’m as good as you, but I’ve been told I’m decent with my mouth and tongue, too.”

He pushed himself further up onto his own elbow, eyebrows drawing together. “By who?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I would, actually.”

“Oh, trust me. You wouldn’t.”

“Olivia.”

She smiled, leaning down to kiss him. “I don’t blow and tell, El.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he muttered.

“And you’d better not, either.”

He flopped back on the bed, pulling her down with him. “First off, I wouldn’t. But second, is this a secret?”

“No. Not a secret, but…I don’t want it broadcast. I want us to take our time and –”

“That’s not what you said earlier.”

She slapped his chest. “You know what I mean.”

“I don’t.”

“I just meant that we haven’t really defined this. I don’t think either of us was expecting this to happen tonight.”

“Definitely not,” he agreed.

“So I don’t know if this means we’re together now. I don’t know if we’re dating. Or if we’re friends with benefits. Or if this was a one time thing.”

“I don’t want it to be a one time thing,” he said in a rush.

She exhaled slowly, relieved to have that question answered. “Me, neither.”

“As for everything else, we can date if you want. We can definitely be friends, with or without the benefits, though I vote yes on the full benefits package.”

Her lips tilted into another smile. God. He really had her by the throat here. She was all over the place, and apparently, he was, too. “We can certainly negotiate.”

“Don’t tease me. I think you knew going into this that I didn’t want to do this halfway. Or at least, I hope you knew that. As far as I’m concerned, we are together now. If you’re not ready for that, I can wait for you to get there.”

She swallowed hard, heart in her throat. “I’m ready. As long as you’re sure –”

“I am,” he vowed. “And you’re right. I don’t want it broadcast, either. I wouldn’t mind it just being between us for a little while.”

Olivia settled in against him, resting her head on his shoulder and wedging her foot between his legs, running her toes along his inner calf.   

“You want to talk about the case some more?” he asked.

She yawned contentedly. “I don’t know. I just feel like I’m missing something. Like it’s right there at the edge of my awareness, but I can’t latch onto it.”

“Like you have tunnel vision?”

“Almost like I’m tunnel blind, you know?”

"The fight never ends, does it?"

"It certainly feels that way."

“Maybe you just need to sleep on it. In your own bed for a change.”

“You’re probably right. What about you? Think you’re about done masquerading as a trucker?”

“Are you kidding? I am a trucker now, Liv. I got my CDL and everything.”

“God help us all,” she quipped. 

“Hey, don’t knock it. I can drive a tour bus when I retire.”

“That doesn’t make me envious.”

“And what are you going to do when you finally retire?”

A shadow crossed her face, but her brow smoothed out. “An influencer.”

“A what?”

“An influencer. Maybe a travel blogger for whatever social media is hip at the time.”

Elliot laughed. Hard. “The only thing I can see you influencing in your retirement is legislation protecting victims of sexual assault, domestic violence, and child abuse.”

“You don’t think I can ever leave it behind?”

“Not in a million years. But I love that about you.”

“What? That I’m as obsessive as you are?”

“Baby, you’re way more obsessive than I am.”

“Oh, that is such bullshit, Elliot. And don’t call me baby.”

“Why not?” he demanded.

“Because the last nickname you gave me stuck, and now it’s all anyone calls me. I’m not answering to baby.”

“I feel like I at least earned the right to call you that in bed. Did you or did you not enjoy it when I had my mouth on your clit?”

She grinned, rolling onto him and dropping her knees down by his hips. “You damn well know I did. You knew it all along. You just wanted to hear me say it.”

He gave a little grin and shrugged, eyes flicking down to her tits appreciatively. “I was pretty confident you enjoyed that part. I honestly wasn’t sure about the rest of it.”

“I actually enjoyed the rest of it even more. I loved having you inside me.”

His face lit up with his most bashful smile, the one that made her weak at the knees. “I liked that part best, too.”

“Really? Because you seemed to enjoy yourself when you were fucking me with your tongue, too.”

“I wasn’t fucking you with my tongue tonight. I was making love to you.”

He seemed indignant that she’d mislabeled his efforts, and she thought maybe he was the most sensitive man she’d ever been with. And that was going to be a problem for them at some point. But he was right. What he did tonight was meant to woo her, and dear god, had he. She was hooked, and she kind of hated him a little for it. She didn’t need to be any more into Elliot Stabler than she already was. 

“I’m sorry,” she told him sincerely, reaching up to remove the necklace and then leaning forward to place it on the bedside table. “I stand corrected.”

He chased one nipple as she moved across him, sucking it between his lips and scraping it gently with his teeth. “What? You don’t sleep in it?”

“I can’t sleep in it. It weighs a ton, and it would tangle in my hair and break.”

“I’ll get you a pair of earrings to go with it. That way you can sleep in them.”

“Not if they weigh as much as the compass. I’d never be able to lift my head to get out of bed in the morning.”

“Okay, smartass.”

She settled her butt back onto his lap and pulled his face away from her breast to kiss him. “I had a great time tonight, Elliot.”

“Are you thanking me for sex?”

“I’m thanking you for being here.”

His eyes misted up. “I’m sorry it felt like I abandoned you again.”

“Well, I had the compass to keep me company this time. It has a pretty big presence. Not as big as yours, but…”

“Oh, Jesus Christ. I’ll take it back and get them to make a smaller one.”

She pulled his hands off of her hips and laced their fingers together, pinning his arms down on either side of his head so she could lean forward and really kiss him. Not with any kind of expectation, but just because she could, and because she wanted to, and because she was pretty sure he was going to need as much reassurance as they navigated this as she was. 

“You will do no such thing,” she warned. “It’s perfect.”

“Fin commented on it when I talked to him.”

“What’d he say?”

“Something to the effect of, When are you coming home? Your girl’s wound up a little tight. You need to straighten her out. You can’t put something that big and shiny around a woman’s and then walk away for this long. She keeps batting down everybody Carisi tries to set her up with and then gets pissed at both of us about it.”

Olivia pulled her mouth away from Elliot’s neck. “I will kick Fin’s ass.”

“He’s just looking out for you. Who’s Carisi trying to set you up with?”

“His cousin.”

“You tell the guy you’re not single?”

“I told him he was…barking up the wrong tree.”

“Good.” Elliot broke his hands away from hers and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her completely down on top of him and settling her back along his side. “Okay if I sleep here tonight?”

“Of course. I can drop you where you need to go before I head back in the morning.”

She lay there contentedly, thoughts flickering between then and now, old cases and the current one. She thought about their time as partners and their years apart. Looking back, Olivia hadn’t always been unhappy without Elliot. She’d loved and lost, laughed and cried. She’d been to hell, more than once, and clawed her way back. She’d found her beautiful boy and fumbled her way through the sleepless nights of new motherhood. She’d grown personally and professionally. 

And she had to admit that Elliot had grown, too. She wasn’t wrong when she defended him and told people that he had changed. He was different now. Calmer. More contemplative. He didn’t hide his feelings behind righteous anger, and current physical state aside, he was a lot less likely to use his fists than he’d been back in the day. Even though she still worried about him because he did have a dangerous job, he wasn’t careless. 

The way he left and severed contact still hurt, but the pain wasn’t as sharp as it had been even a year ago. She had finally confronted the reality that what she and Elliot were to each other back then wasn’t healthy for either of them. It sure as hell wasn’t professional. And Kathy wasn’t wrong. It had held them back. Olivia would always wish he’d done it differently. That he’d kept in touch, but she wasn’t sure that would have worked. Maybe the break had to be clean and complete. The way he did it was brutal, but she did know him better than anyone. He had never meant to hurt her. He was just pathologically avoidant when it came to things he wasn’t ready to face. Things that had the potential to devastate him. Things like his mother before she was medicated. Things like shooting and killing a teenage girl, the daughter of a victim, even if it was justified. Things like falling for his partner when he already had a wife and four, eventually five, kids at home. 

People always assumed she and Elliot had an affair, and even she could see now that they had. It was never physical, but that didn’t make it okay. She thought maybe they would both always feel a little guilty about it. Conflicted to some degree. But it seemed to Olivia that they were both inching towards acceptance. They’d both always tried to do the right thing, even if they’d botched it there at the end. 

Now it was like they were finally coming out of a long, dark tunnel, and –

She rolled over suddenly, reaching for her phone on the nightstand and sending an urgent message to Fin, one that couldn’t wait until morning.

Elliot protested her sudden movement. “What are you doing?”

“Hang on. I had a thought.”

“It’s one in the morning.”

“Fin’s awake. Or at least, he’d better be.”

He rubbed his beard, blinking against the intrusive light of her phone in the dim glow of her bedroom. “Liv, put the phone down and get some sleep.”

“Two minutes,” she promised.  

 He rolled towards her and rested his cheek on her naked belly. “Travel blogger, my ass,” he mumbled, rubbing his beard against the sensitive spot just above her hip bone. The place he’d discovered drove her to distraction less than an hour ago. 

“Stop that,” she warned. 

“Put the phone away and make me.” 

Olivia reached down and raked her nails gently along the base of his skull and down his neck while she waited for Fin to respond, doing absolutely nothing to discourage Elliot’s efforts. If the man wanted to pass the time nipping at her erogenous zones, who was she to deter him? 

“El,” she breathed when the tip of his beard brushed a little too firmly against the still sensitive bundle of nerves nestled not far from his mouth.

“What?”

“When this gig is officially up, don’t lose the beard right away.”

He lifted his head to meet her gaze, a cocky, self-satisfied smile on his face. She was expecting a wiseass retort. What she got instead blew her mind for the third time that evening. 

“I love you,” he said simply. 

Olivia’s eyes widened, unbidden tears blurring her vision just as Fin responded to her text, assuring her he’d look into it. She glanced at the phone, sent a quick reply that she hoped didn’t contain too many typos, and then set it back face down on her nightstand along with her reading glasses. 

She could feel Elliot’s gaze on her, and she knew she had to get this right. For both of their sakes. “Come up here,” she urged, pulling gently at his shoulders as she scooted back down onto her pillow.

He crawled up, still draped across her, legs tangled with hers, his chest heavy and solid against the soft swell of her breasts. He was hesitant again, probably overthinking and panicking, and the last thing she wanted was for him to regret it or try to walk it back. 

She didn’t know when she became so damn soft where he was concerned, but she couldn’t stop a couple of tears from spilling over. Taking his face in her hands, she pressed her lips gently to the cut on his forehead, to the bruise around his eye, and finally to the scrape just above his mustache before kissing him slowly, keeping her eyes open, putting everything she had into it. 

He sighed into it, and when he finally lifted his head, he started, “Liv, listen –”

“I love you, too,” she assured him, never breaking eye contact. 

His bruised knuckles brushed away her tears, so she brushed her lips across those as well. The smile on his face lit up her whole world, and Olivia let herself believe for the first time that things really could work out. She knew it wouldn’t be easy, but she couldn’t imagine the rest of her life without him in it. And now that she’d known this, having him here when she needed him most, she was willing to do her part to make it work. To ensure he wanted to spend most of his nights in her bed. 

Tears gave way to genuine happiness, maybe even a brief moment of unbridled joy, and she welcomed the levity. The reprieve from the darkness of what was waiting for both of them when dawn finally broke. Their lives were nothing if not ironic. 

“So what’s your refractory period like these days?” she asked. 

He blinked at her, eyebrows shooting up his forehead. “As much as I hate to say it, probably longer than we have.”

“Pity,” she said, lifting her knee just enough to brush against his cock, which wasn’t erect but certainly wasn’t completely uninterested. 

 “I mean, we can try. I just may not be able to finish.”

“No,” she told him. “I’m good for the night.”

“You sure? Just because I can’t doesn’t mean –”

“I wasn’t asking for me. I was thinking more along the lines of how long it would be before I could get my mouth on the lower half of your body.”

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “Am I gonna have to use my CDL to start running loads of little blue pills just to keep up with you?”

She laughed, a true, honest to god belly laugh. “Okay, well, the easier thing to do would be to talk to your doctor. But no. You’re not. I think we’re going to be perfectly compatible.”

“Oh, I think I’m perking up as we speak.”

She yawned. “Mmm, I can feel that, but let’s wait, okay? Let the anticipation build again. Besides, you’re not going to want to be at half mast for what I plan to do to you the next time I see you.”

“So you’re gonna wind me up and send me back undercover? Really?”

“It’s all about control, Stabler. Isn’t that what you said you wanted to work on? I’m just trying to help my partner out.”

“You said I had plenty of control. And you said you didn’t want me to ever worry about control.”

“With me. I said I don’t want you to worry about control with me. With everyone else, you’d damn well better keep it in your pants.”

That drew a belly laugh from him, and that was her intent all along. “I’m glad Fin called me,” Elliot said once he settled down, nestling his head against her chest. 

“Me, too,” she assured him.

Olivia wasn’t sure she liked how much of a cuddler he seemed to be, but she thought maybe he was starved for touch after being undercover and on the road for so long, so she ran her hands along his back and soothed him, letting her mind drift again. 

Within minutes, he was sleeping soundly, his gentle inhales and exhales teasing the skin of her neck with every rise and fall of his back beneath her palms. 

Her phone pinged, and she snatched it up, not wanting it to disturb him. 

Squinting, she read the text from Noah. ‘I miss you. Could I come home tomorrow night instead of Monday? I can stay with Amanda if you have to work, but I really want to see you.’

Olivia’s heart swelled as she imagined a night in the not too distant future just like this but with Noah tucked safely into his own bed. A night where her whole heart was inside the walls of this ridiculously expensive apartment. Then, she thought, then she would be truly happy.

‘Of course you can, sweet boy. I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you.’

‘Love you, too’

‘Hey, guess who got to visit tonight.’

‘Elliot?? I can’t believe I missed him’

‘You’ll catch him next time.’

‘Cool. Night, Mom’

She shifted, trying to find a good sleeping position, and Elliot squeezed his arm a little tighter, digging his fingers into her hip. He made a little sound, like he was having a bad dream, and she soothed him. 

“It’s okay. I’m right here.”

“Love you,” he mumbled. 

She wondered if it was really meant for her, or if it was just a habit born from thirty-five years of marriage. In the end, she decided it didn’t matter because she was officially claiming the next thirty-five years as hers.

“Love you, too, El.” 

Just as she dozed off, his voice cut through the silence. “Night, Liv.”

Yeah, he knew exactly what he was doing when he gave her that necklace. Elliot Stabler owned her now. Maybe he always had. Either way, she wasn’t going to fight it anymore.