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The Thunder Rolls – AU EO Fic, Season 1

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21:33 on April 22, 2000

 

Lighthearted laughter was shared as they sipped their beers and nudged each other with elbows, it was a celebration. An especially long case had ended successfully with their suspect being convicted and the detectives of Manhattan’s Special Victims Unit hit their usual dive to celebrate. At a round, high-top table in the corner stood the five of them. Brian Cassidy sat at one of the high stools, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol he’d had, and his arm draped around the shoulders of Monique Jeffries who was, for once, tolerating him without too much sass. Her natural curls were loose but pulled back from her face by a set of clips on each side, and her laughter comingled with John Munch who sat to Cassidy’s right. Olivia stood between John and Elliot, letting her beer rest easily against the surface of the table as she turned her eager gaze upon her partner. Elliot was talking, telling some story about his time on the force before SVU, but she was hardly listening… after all, she’d heard the story before. In this moment, she was far more interested in the storyteller than the story. Several beers – and a few shots – in and her glowing interest in her partner was practically on display. She reached up, tucking a strand of her burgundy-colored, shoulder length hair behind her ear easily, pairing it with a perfect smile. Elliot’s eyes – those beautiful cerulean blue orbs that she stared at each day – found hers, lingering for a moment, and causing him to falter, fumbling with his words. It was the first true chink in his armor that she’d seen, aside from the immense concern he’d shown towards her during the earlier phases of this very case.

 

She recalled then, the protective way Elliot had asked her to blink her lights, to ensure that she made it to her apartment with no trouble… how when she had questioned if he would sit there all night, almost as a joke, he had told her he would. Stubborn son of a bitch she had called him, but, in reality, it was – perhaps – the first time he had truly displayed a care for her that surpassed the every-day partner sort of concern. Fueled by the confidence provided by liquid courage, her eyes never left him as he spoke… her body leaning into his slightly, almost imperceptibly. He smelled of old spice deodorant with a subtle hint of the ink-and-paper smell of the files they sorted through daily. His scent was so familiar and yet she had never struggled so much to maintain her distance. Apparently, along with liquid courage, she had lost the usual strength of her moral compass. Another eruption of laughter from the others prompted her to join in, her gaze finally tearing from Elliot and shifting to Cassidy who was watching her with some level of jealousy and hurt ebbing into his facial expression. “Jeez, is it that late?” Elliot said, noting the time on the clock which now read 22:51, “Kathy’s gonna kill me if I stay out much later. I better get going, you need a ride Liv?” he added, turning his gaze to her. She was painfully aware that he’d had less to drink than she had, but she shook her head initially, “No, no… I can walk,” she replied, protesting slightly, scared of what she might say once they were alone. Elliot raised an eyebrow, instantly silencing her objections, “Come on, Liv, it’s a little out of the way, but I’ll sleep easier knowing you got in okay,” he replied, grabbing his jacket from the back of his seat and letting it drape easily over his arm. She brushed a hand through her hair, pressing her lips together, but nodded easily, caving to the non-existent pressure of the offer to spend more time with him… precious time outside of the office that she so desperately yearned for.

 

“Fine,” she replied, grabbing her jacket, and sliding it over one arm. He moved quickly to help her, grabbing the collar of her jacket to help hold it up as her other arm found its way into the other sleeve. She offered a quick smile of gratitude before turning to the others and offering a simple, “See you guys Monday!” Munch rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah… as long as we don’t get called in tomorrow!” he replied, his tone laced with pessimism and sass. Cassidy punched him in the arm, “Watch it, Munch! You’ll jinx it!” he scolded in that boyish way he always spoke, like the popular kid on the t-ball team. His bright eyes shifted to Olivia and he offered a small, “See you, Liv,” in a somewhat dejected tone, glancing to Stabler before departing with Munch. Olivia didn’t reply, but rather watched him go. “Don’t mind him,” Monique said, offering a confident smile, “he’s just over-sensitive. Get home safe, okay? I’m gonna go meet some other friends at another dive a few blocks away,” she added, her tone suggesting that she intended to have a little more fun. It was a Saturday after all. Their case with Richard White had finally been closed the day before and sentencing was to occur sometime in the next weeks, but he was guilty and they had all wanted to celebrate this monumental win. None more so than Olivia. “You ready, Liv?” Elliot added, his hand finding the small of her back as it had so many times before, and yet, the subtle pressure of his hand sent a jolt of electricity through her body, and she felt her cheeks flush in spite of herself. She nodded, vigorously, and replied, “Yeah, let’s go…” Elliot’s hand dropped and, intentionally or not, grazed her ass, causing her to suck air in sharply and turn her face away so that her expression wouldn’t be visible to him. If he wasn’t more careful, they might both end up doing something they regretted… they might both end up doing each other.

 

As they walked to Elliot’s car together, they fell into an easy silence, as they so often did. Without really thinking about it, Olivia linked her arm with Elliot’s, and, for just a moment, she allowed herself to think about what life might be like… if he wasn’t married, if they didn’t work together. Though, realistically, only the former was really stopping them. “How are you doing?” he asked suddenly, glancing sideways at her with a subtle hint of concern swirling within his azure gaze. It’s a simple question, but she knows that he means how is she doing with the Richard White case? He wonders if the night terrors have stopped, if her heart rate had stopped spiking every time the phone rang, if she didn’t still triple check that her doors and windows were locked before bed, or if – perhaps – she had let herself have the same routine two days in a row. “I’m fine,” she replied, a lie, but she isn’t about to admit to him that the answer to all those questions was no. She didn’t need to tell him the truth, but he also knew that she was holding back… that just because Richard White was in jail, he was not gone. His final words to her haunted her mind, echoing within the confines of her head, ‘I’m fixed on you… and until I’m dead, I’ll be stuck in your head…  just like your mother has somebody in her head... We're joined at the hip now, aren't we?’ he had said, his voice smug and deliberate. She had gone home that night, alone, and cried… realizing that he’d done what he had wanted. He had gotten inside her head and his chokehold on her mental health had yet to subside. “You know, you can talk to me if you need to, Liv,” Elliot said finally, trying to pry the truth from her, but knowing it was likely a pointless endeavor. She slipped into the passenger side of his car in silence, unable to voice the way she was feeling… unwilling to allow herself to be vulnerable. She had spent her whole life trying to prove that she didn’t need anyone else… and she’d done just fine, until Elliot Stabler arrived and turned her world upside down.

 

They were silent for a long time; the sounds of the car engine and the rain drops that had begun to fall against the windshield surrounding them like white noise. Her arms were folded across her chest, a stance she always took when she was trying to protect herself from being exposed, vulnerable… weak. It took about half the drive for her to relax, realizing that he really wasn’t trying to uncover some truth or unearth some mysterious weakness… he was simply trying to be there for her, to let her vent in a way she hadn’t with others. She swallowed nervously, glancing sideways at him. He was pensive, his eyes locked on the road, with one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the center console between them. She wanted to reach for that hand, to lace their fingers together… she urgently wanted to be close to him, to feel the safety that his presence provided. “I’m—” she began, forcing her arms to uncross and shifting in her seat, “I’m actually… not doing that well with everything, all things considered,” she admitted, her voice sheepish. Elliot’s gaze shifted to her, his eyebrows inching upwards in surprise at the sudden admission. He was about to reply when his phone buzzed, she could hear it against the holster by his thigh. She glanced at it and the name Kathy shone in the small screen on the front of it in bright lettering. She expected him to reach for it frantically, to assuage Kathy’s concerns and assure her that he was on his way home, but he ignored it, his gaze never leaving the road other than to look at her. “Is there anything I can do?” he replied, his tone saturated with genuine care and disquiet. She was so taken aback by his ignoring Kathy’s phone call that she simply stared at him, her lips parted slightly with a look of incredulity on her face. Elliot Stabler, the picture-perfect Catholic father and husband, ignoring his wife’s phone call for her? It almost felt as though they were occupying some alternate universe… some realm in which he might actually choose her.

 

“El, I—” she began, trying to come up with the words to say she was trying to say… but she couldn’t possibly say what she wanted to say. She wanted to ask him to stay, to hold her, to tell her she was safe and that he was there. She wanted, desperately, to fall asleep against his chest… to sleep soundly for the first time in months, or perhaps years. “Yes,” he replied, although she had said nothing. She was taken aback, her brows furrowed with confusion, “Y-yes?” she replied, her voice wavering uneasily. Elliot glanced at her, his response was written in his eyes, “I’ll walk you upstairs and stay for a while,” he replied easily, too easily. She wondered if she was imagining the glimmer in his mind, the sensuality in his tone… was she that drunk? She swallowed nervously, shrinking into her seat, and offering only a vague, “Okay,” in response as her gaze shifted out the passenger window. They were silent for the remainder of the car ride, but it was a different silence… a newfound tension hung between them, so thick you could cut it with a knife. When the car slowed to a stop in a parking space, she glanced at the clock on the dashboard and found 11:16PM staring back at her in digital letters. She swallows nervously, knowing that most friends don’t offer to walk one another up to their rooms after 23:00… and they certainly don’t offer, unprompted, to stay a while. She doesn’t dare to glance at him, afraid of what she might see in his eyes… afraid that his expression could make her simply discard her moral compass altogether. He has a wife… he has kids… she finds herself chanting in her mind, a mantra in attempt to keep herself from committing the carnal sin that her heart has thought of since meeting him.

 

She slides out of the passenger seat, unaware of how slow she must be moving, because by the time she shuts the door, Elliot is beside her offering a smile. She tries, and fails, to smile back, her nerves getting the best of her. Elliot had been to her apartment before, a few times, but never at this hour and under these circumstances. Her heart raced at the thought, but her doubt had her wondering if he was completely alright, if he was just being a good friend… she glanced sideways at him and found him studying her, that new – foreign – look in his eyes that made her stomach flutter as though a cloud of butterflies had been released. He said nothing, just walked with her, offering subtle glances that seemed to speak volumes to her. The walk to her apartment was uneventful, once they managed to get buzzed in, and when they made it to the door, she managed to get it unlocked with minimal fumbling of the keys. Her hands shook, a sort of clamminess clinging to them as she opened the door and pushed her way inside. “I’m sorry for the mess,” she muttered idly, noting the leftover containers that sort of piled out of the garbage, “I…wasn’t expecting visitors,” she added, lamely. She tossed her keys on the counter and shifted to take off her coat. Elliot stepped up behind her and, as he’d done at the bar, grasped the collar of the coat, helping her shrug it off her shoulders. However, once the coat was off, he lingered there… hovering behind her, so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her neck. She hesitated, wondering if she should turn around, wary of what they might set off if she did. He reached out, brushing the burgundy hair away from her neck, and leaned in to place a tender kiss on the spot where her shoulder met her neck. The spot practically burned with pleasure and her entire body shivered with excitement, the likes of which she had never felt before. She felt herself forget to breathe, her heart racing dangerously, but she turned to face him, finding a question in his eyes… the question.

 

She nodded, a silent response to the silent question, Can I kiss you? He didn’t hesitate, the chord had been struck, and there was nothing to do but give in to the music. His lips crashed onto hers with such passionate force that she practically stumbled backwards, leaning against the counter for support as her legs threatened to give way. Their hands were all over one another, hungrily exploring each other’s bodies the way they’d longed to since meeting. Elliot’s body was strong, yet there was a gentleness to the way he touched her, the way he tenderly explored her… this wasn’t his norm, there was a hesitant nervousness within him that excited her more. “Liv…” he breathed against her lips when they came up for air, but there was no change for her to reply. His hands found her waist, fumbling with her shirt as he slid his hands under the hem. His hands made contact with her slender waist and ever spot that their skin touched burned deliciously, like hot wax falling onto one’s skin or a warm stone being placed on one’s back during a spa day. It felt exciting, but also safe and warm… there was something about his touch that felt like home and Olivia couldn’t have resisted him, even if she wanted to. He slid his hands upwards, his wrists catching her shirt and lifting it upwards. She managed to relinquish her grasp on him long enough to hold her arms up over her head, allowing him to remove the shirt and toss it aside, somewhere on the floor. His hands easily returned to her, and he enveloped her in his strong arms, lifting her up and setting her on the countertop as easily as if she were weightless. All the while, their lips had only parted for a fraction of a second as the material of her shirt slipped between them. He stepped towards her and she parted her legs, welcoming him as he pressed himself against her and she could already feel him hard against her, straining the material of his pants.

 

She reached for the buttons of his shirt, tugging at each one impatiently, until she finally revealed his chest to her. His skin was smooth and it felt, to her, as though they were made to touch one another. His lips finally left hers, but only so that he could trail hot kisses down her neck. Every time she squirmed or moaned, he bothered the spot, his strong hands gripping her hips and pulling her against him. “Elliot…” she groaned his name, her head tilting back easily, and her hands gripping his shoulders firmly. He shrugged off his shirt, letting it fall away to the floor, discarded on the cheap tile. His hands found her hips once more, holding her tight as he slid one up and around to her back, finding the place where her bra latched. He fumbled with it for a moment, though he was truly multitasking as he bothered a spot that made her moan his name once again, before managing to get it unlatched. The bra fell away from her, exposing her perfect breasts, and Elliot had to stop for a moment to simply stare at her and appreciate her beauty. He looked awestruck, his eyes warm, as he drank in every bit of her body, exposed to him for the first time. “You are stunning,” he muttered, but that was all the time he allowed himself to stare, because touching her was far more enticing. His mouth found a nipple and Olivia had to lean back, her elbows supporting her weight as he toyed with her. One hand supported her other breast, twisting the nipple gently at first, then a bit harder… the other hand slid down to her waist and began undoing her belt, desperate to feel all of her. “El—” she tried to protest, a remnant of her moral compass which had, by this point, shattered and lay scattered upon the floor with their clothes. Her back arched against him, her body reacting to everything he did… it was as though he somehow knew her body, despite this being the first time he’d ever even seen her this way, let alone touched her.

 

It was electric. The chemistry had always been there, the power of their connection, but they had both ignored all the signs… desperate to cling to the two things that kept them apart: his family and the job. Once her pants were unbuttoned, he relinquished his grasp on her breast, lowering his hands to tug the waistband past her ass. He wasted no time, taking the panties with the pants, and released her nipple from between his teeth as he tugged the remainder of her clothes down the length of her long, muscular legs. She kicked off her shoes easily, letting them clatter to the floor with the rest of their discarded clothing, and watched as he absorbed her in her glory… perfection embodied he thought, licking his lips. She pushed herself back up, leaning back against her palms on the counter, “Are you going to just stare at me?” she inquired, a hint of a tease laced into her tone. He smirked, accepting the challenge with ease, and approached her, kissing her ferociously as his right hand slid up her thigh and settled easily between her legs. His free hand gripped her hip tightly as he found her entrance with his thumb, rubbing across the wetness he found there before he found her clit and began deliberate, slow circles around it. She shivered, her toes curling as her legs wrapped around his waist, “Fuck, Elliot…” she growled, her voice hoarse as the pleasure racked her body. Her eyes fluttered shut and she let her head fall back once again, exposing her neck to him. He took advantage, finding a spot on her collarbone where a small red mark had begun to form, the subtle beginnings of a hickey indicating that it had been a spot that drove her wild. As he did so, he shifted his hand and slipped a finger inside her, eliciting a sharp gasp of pleasure from her. Her body was like a well-tuned instrument that somehow Elliot knew how to play, as though he’d been taking years of lessons. He slipped another finger inside of her, content to feel her clench around his fingers in pleasure, and continued to draw deliberate, though somewhat faster circles around her clit with his thumb.

 

As he did so, he leaned down and found her nipple with his mouth once again, sucking it gently, before taking it in between his teeth and flicking his tongue easily back and forth across it. He continued this pattern, consistent in his movements, until her legs quivered with the strength of the oncoming orgasm. But before she reached it, he stopped suddenly. She was about to protest when he dropped to his knees and burying his face between her legs, carefully rebuilding the pleasure he had so purposefully deprived her of. She laid back against the counter, her back arching against the surface that was now warm from the heat of her body. She couldn’t possibly deny the moans that escaped her lips if she’d wanted to and she knew, she knew, that Elliot was loving every single one that he elicited from her. As his tongue delved into her rhythmically before swirling around her clit in a pattern of pleasure, Elliot slid his hands up her stomach and found her breasts. He gripped them, enjoying their perfect shape and size. He grasped her nipples between each thumb and forefinger, careful to match the same rhythm of his tongue’s movements as he twisted and squeezed. Olivia’s hand found their way into his cropped brown hair, her nails scraping slightly against his scalp. Her free hand wound itself in her burgundy hair, her head tilting back, and her eyes falling shut. She felt her entire body build towards a climax, the strength of which radiated from her clit outwards like an electric impulse. Her climax hit her hard and fast, her entire body tensing, and her moans growing louder as she rode the orgasm out. Her toes curled so hard that she could feel her calf muscles threaten to cramp. She shivered afterwards, as though she had been electrocuted by the power of the orgasm that he’d given her. When he rose from between her legs, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before reaching for the paper towels on the counter. He ripped off a few squares and cleaned himself up quickly, tossing those unceremoniously on top of the takeout boxes in her garbage.

 

She was still laying back, her chest riding and falling rapidly, and her body quivering as she rode out the ecstasy of the moment. She struggled to come to terms with the fact that Elliot Stabler, her perfect – married - god-fearing Catholic partner… She shook her head, as if to clear it… they’d already crossed the line, there was certainly no going back now. She pushed herself up onto her elbows and found Elliot smirking at her, triumphantly, “You taste good,” he murmured. She slid off the counter and took a step towards him, pressing him against the fridge before kissing him. She could taste herself on his lips, something that was so inexplicably hot to her… the sweet taste of knowing that Elliot Stabler had gone down on her and he’d enjoyed the way she tasted. She felt him hold her hips, one hand sliding down to grip her ass cheek firmly. Her hands found his belt and unclasped it easily, moving to the button and zipper. She broke their kiss, following his lead and pushing his pants as well as the band of his briefs down, exposing the length of him to her. She had always assumed he was well-endowed, he just exuded that sort of energy, but it was quite different to see it rather than merely speculate about it. She let his pants crumple into a pile at his ankles before she reached out to grasp him firmly, expertly stroking his length before taking the tip of him into her mouth. She could feel him twitch, as her legs had, his body reacting easily to her touch. She twisted her wrist slightly with each stroke, careful to move her mouth over him in pace with her hand. She would’ve been delighted to taste him, to feel him throb within her mouth, but he had other plans… he reached down, lacing his hands into her hair, and gently pulled her to her feet.

 

He didn’t wait for her protests, he backed her against the counter once again, lifting her up onto it and pressing himself between her legs. He positioned himself at her entrance, pausing briefly, “Are you sure?” he whispered, ensuring that she wanted this as much as he did. “Yes,” she said, clearly and concisely. She had wanted this for so long and now they were so close, she was certain there was no coming back from the edge at this point. They’d crossed the line… now it was time to take the final leap. He leaned in, kissing her as he pressed himself inside of her. She moaned into the kiss, her back arching slightly as she adjusted to him… to the feeling of him inside her. She was certain now, if she hadn’t been before, that sex was remarkably better when you actually cared about someone… but with how amazing he felt, she was suddenly questioning if she’d ever been in love before. She didn’t have much time to consider the depth of this question, however, because as soon as he began to thrust in and out of her, her mind went practically blank. He was everything, all she could think of. Their hips rocked together, their lips crashing against one another’s as they fucked on the counter of her small apartment. “Olivia…” he groaned into the kiss, his voice a deep growl that emanated from the hollow of his throat. She gripped his shoulders, feeling his back muscles tense has they made love. Each thrust of his hips elicited new pleasure, his body melding with hers, intertwining on the counter of her small apartment. By the end of the night, her neighbors would know his name. Their skin glistened with sweat, their bodies shivered with excitement, and their heavy breaths fell into a shared rhythm, as though they were one. Elliot reached down grasping her right ankle and raised her leg, pushing himself deeper within her. Her eyes rolled back, her back arching easily as they switched to a new position without Elliot ever daring to remove himself from within her. She leaned back, propped up on her left elbow and butt cheek. Her left leg wrapped around his lower torso, her right leg rested against his shoulder, and her right hand entwined in her burgundy hair, pushing it back from her face.

 

She was a vision, her entire body perfect… as though God himself had taken the time to draw out each curve and line of her. Elliot was overwhelmed by the moment, taking in each detail as though he’d just walked through a desert and she was his oasis. He was slow, deliberate with each movement as he savored the feel of her wrapped around him. He was certain that if he moved too fast, he would rush through the pleasure rather than enjoy it. If being married with kids had taught him anything, it was that making love was to be cherished… though, at present, his marriage was the absolute last thing on his mind. Olivia Margaret Benson was laid before him in all her glory… she was tall, slender but athletically built. Her skin was smooth and relatively unmarred by the trials of life. She was perfect… one might argue that perfection didn’t exist, but the reality of this moment was that perfection was defined by the person who assigned the label of perfection… and, to Elliot, Olivia Benson the dictionary definition of perfect. He reached out, sliding his hand up her neck and into her thick, burgundy hair. There it became entwined and he tugged her head back gently, but firmly as he picked up speed with his movements. His other hand found her clit once again, flicking a digit quickly back and forth across it. She squirmed… and he knew he’d found yet another trigger for her pleasure. He exploited it, moaning her name, “Olivia…” as his thrusts grew more frequent and ever-so-slightly harder. She could feel him throb within her, his own climax approaching steadily with each pleasurably thrust, but she wouldn’t be far behind him.

 

He pulled her into him, thrusting deeper though she wasn’t sure how that was even possible. Each strong thrust pushed her closer to the edge, closer to the abyss that would be orgasming with Elliot inside her… she wasn’t sure that sex would ever be the same again. She wasn’t sure that she would ever be the same. “Elliot…” she moaned his name, unafraid to use it… her mind had gone blank, the world around them had faded, and in this moment, there was only him. In this moment there was only them. Her leg slipped from his shoulder and he leaned into her, pressing his forehead to hers. Not for the first time, he questioned if he loved her, though he knew he couldn’t say that out loud. Her back arched slightly and she felt her desire build once again, though it was a different sort of pleasure… this stemmed from within her, at the core of her… like a water balloon being filled by a water hose until it burst. It hit her sooner than she would’ve anticipated and she gripped his shoulder’s so tightly that she was certain her nails had left imprints. “Fuck!” she exclaimed, unable to hold back the expletive. Her entire body tensed and she pulled Elliot closer to her, gripping him as though without him she might fall into the abyss below… though it was clear that she had already fallen, that this would be the first of many, many deviations from the moral high ground on which she usually dwelt. Elliot didn’t slow as she hit her climax, but rather powered through it as the waves of pleasure crashed over her… he didn’t need to slow, because his own climax was approaching. He wondered if he should pull out, his gaze found hers, “Should I pull out?” he whispered, his voice breathless as his hot breath brushed against her skin. She bit her lower lip, torn for a moment, but she shook her head… a part of her wished she wasn’t on the pill, wished that she could finally have the child she’d always craved…with the man she truly wanted. “I’m…on birth control,” she admitted, her voice breathy with the aftermath of her orgasm. She didn’t need to tell him twice; he would’ve been hard-pressed to manage to resist the absolute pleasure that her body provided… it might’ve even been impossible for him to pull out, to deny himself the ultimate pleasure of finishing deep within her… of – in some small way – claiming her as his.

 

As long as they didn’t leave her apartment, he could pretend that was the case… that for this night, in this moment, Olivia was his partner…outside of work. She quivered within his arms, the aftershock of her own climax still taking hold of her body. His own climax was nearly upon him, his body began to tense, and he throbbed within her… his final thrust was hard and deep, his hands hungrily pulling her body against him. “Liv…” he moaned her name as he came, as he had so many times before… but every other time had been by himself… a moment alone in the shower… in the crib… anywhere he found a moment away from the world, she was on the forefront of his mind. She could feel it, the pressure of his climax within her, the warmth of it… it excited her to know that Elliot Stabler had found her so irresistible that he had finally caved. For tonight, he was hers… and she didn’t plan on letting him leave early. Pulling out after a long moment of ecstasy, he lifts her off the counter, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist, and lifting her with ease. He navigated the familiar apartment with her wrapped around him, finding his way to the couch where he lowered himself into a sitting position with her on top of him, straddling him easily. He wanted them to be comfortable, to have a moment to stay like this, entangled in one another’s embrace, before he inevitably had to leave… before this perfect world where she was his and he, hers was shattered like a broken glass. She settles into him easily, their bodies melding together as though they had always been meant to be intertwined. Her head finds his shoulder, her warm brown eyes watching him closely, admiring his face from closer than she ever had before. She traced his features with her fingertips, exploring him with curiosity, enjoying the unspoken permission she had to do so… she wouldn’t waste a moment of this night and any other they might share. Outside of the apartment, thunder boomed loudly, and the rain pounded idly against the glass windowpanes.

 

“You okay?” he inquires after a long pause, his voice laced with mild concern but saturated with lingering contentment. How could he not be content when he held the most beautiful woman alive in his arms? She lifted her head, looking at him with a question mark on her face, “Okay?” she retorted, her brow creasing, “Okay? Elliot… this—I know it’s complicated, but… I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t dreamt of this… of you,” she added, feeling a flush rise in her cheeks, a flush she hadn’t felt when he made love to her on her kitchen counter. Somehow admitting her feelings was more nerve-wracking than actually acting on them. He couldn’t help the triumphant smirk that played upon his features, “Oh really?” he teased, squeezing her hips lightly. There was a pause before he added, “I’d be lying if I said that my dreams did you justice…” in a serious tone, his vibrant blue eyes drinking her in… absorbing every feature of her face, memorizing everything about her. Complicated was, perhaps, the understatement of the century when it came to what their current situation was, but he didn’t want to speak about it, he didn’t want to shatter his fantasy world in which this was their apartment and she was his girlfriend… or fiancée… or wife… He shook his head, as if to clear his mind of thoughts. “What’s on your mind?” she inquired, resting her forearms on each of his shoulders and interlocking her hands behind his neck, her thumb rubbing gently against the hairs on the back of his neck. She tilted her head as she watched him, trying desperately to read him. He shook his head, knowing that talking about any of it would make it real… and he just wanted to stay here, in this moment with her. He reached up, pulling her face to his, and kissed her passionately. She melted into him, unwilling to resist his touch, unwilling to yield to her moral compass that was spinning out of control… was it really wrong when she knew that he was the right one for her? Her heart didn’t care to know the answer… neither did her body. She leaned into him, her perfect breasts pressed against his chest as she let her hands caress his strong body, his square jawline. As they explored one another’s bodies with their hands, the clock on the wall struck midnight. Elliot broke the kiss, looking at the clock and hissing, “shit…”

 

She knew what he was thinking… she didn’t need him to say another thing. He was worried about Kathy, his Catholic guilt was already on the rise, and she could feel him begin to retract his hands from her… Her heart sank, but she wasn’t willing to let him slip away just yet. They had already crossed the line, they had already sinned, so if they just didn’t leave the apartment… it was all one sin. She leaned in, her lips finding his neck as she slipped easily from his lap. She knelt beside him, trailing kisses down his neck as her hands found their way between his legs, wrapping around him. He was not hard yet, but she could feel that his body had already begun to recover… that his body was merely waiting for her touch, begging for her to relieve him of his guilt. A gasp of pleasure escaped him, followed by a shiver of desire, as she stroked him. She moaned against his neck, whispering his name against his skin, “Elliot…” in ways she knew Kathy never did. Groans of pleasure passed through his parted lips as his body reacted easily to her touch, though it took a few moments… after all, he needed some recovery following his first performance. “Fuck, Liv…” he growled her name, his hand reaching to find her perfect ass, and cupped it, squeezing gently as she continued to kiss her way down his neck and chest. Her hands worked methodically, rising and falling in an easy rhythm that was matched with her gentle kisses that now trailed down his torse. His whole body was chiseled, and she was aware that nothing he wore would ever do him justice. She nibbled lightly at his skin, bothering spots that elicited more of a reaction.

 

Instead of spitting on him, she reached between her legs, slipping two fingers inside of herself to get some natural lubrication for her hands. When she did this, he moaned and whispered a soft, “Fuck, that’s hot…” as her hands wrapped around him once again and continued the same rhythm. By this point, her lips had found the very top of his happy trail and she decided to stop her teasing. She leaned down, her lips finding the tip and parting, taking him into her mouth. She used one hand to help stroke him, her lip creating a suction around him as she let her tongue flick back and forth across the sensitive spot just below the tip. Elliot’s hands easily found their way into her burgundy hair, holding it back out of her face for her as she went down on him. His toes curled with excitement, his body reacting easily to her touch. He wasn’t sure if he could hold himself back, but he was also certain that he wanted her again… he wanted to feel her wrapped tightly around him, riding him. He groaned, his hips bucking against her slightly as he thought of it. If she wasn’t careful, he’d cum again too quickly… then he wouldn’t be able to feel her for a long while. She didn’t care; in fact, she savored the control she had now. The way each movement of her hands, her mouth, her tongue sent shivers up his spine… the way his hands tensed in her hair, pulling it gently. She loved the taste of him, the way he throbbed slightly as she slid her lips up and down the length of him. His grip on her hair tightened and he tugged her gently upwards, pulling her face to his and kissing her hungrily. “I need you…” he growled against her lips, his breath warm against her skin. He didn’t need to tell her twice. She stood, keeping her eyes on his, and climbed back onto his lap, using one hand to guide him inside her.

 

She gasped slightly as he filled her once again, her body adapting to him as though they were puzzle pieces, meant to fit together. Slowly she began to rock her hips, her hands sliding up his muscular arms and finding their way to his shoulders. His hands found her waist at first, but soon slipped down to grip her ass. She was perfect… he had imagined her before, so many times, but he knew that his imagination would never again suffice. He guided her movements now, lifting her easily as his hips rocked in time with hers. She moaned, her head tilting back, and her eyes fluttering shut. She would savor every moment of this night… every inch of him within her. Her clit brushed against his skin; the perfect amount of pressure applied with each movement that started to drive her wild. He could feel it, the excitement building, as she clenched around him… he leaned forward, taking her nipple into his mouth. She gasped a small, “Elliot…” and he knew that she wouldn’t last long, but he would relish every moment of her pleasure, every twitch of her body that he was causing. He caught her nipple gently with his teeth, his tongue flicking back and forth across the tip of it as he did. Her nipples were already hard with arousal, but now a wave of pleasure radiated through her. Everything he did was poisonously pleasurable, and she wasn’t sure that she could hold her climax back for much longer… in fact, she didn’t want to. Her grip on his shoulders tightened, her whole body quivered in anticipation as her desire amplified. He continued to push and pull her hips, rocking his hips in time with each motion, determined to push her ever closer to her climax…right to the edge, and over it.

 

Her body shook and she was glad that he was guiding her movements now, because she was quite certain that she was about to cease the ability to function. Her nails dug into him and, despite her concerns about Kathy seeing the marks, she suddenly found that she didn’t care if Kathy knew… in fact, a small part of her hoped Kathy knew… hoped that Kathy was aware that in this moment – for this night – Elliot Stabler was hers. “E—Elliot!” she gasped his name, though it was louder than a normal gasp… bordering on a shout of ecstasy. He felt her cum; her entire body tensed in his grasp, and he felt her clench tightly around him. He didn’t bother holding himself back, his climax had been so close for the past several minutes that he’d had to think of other things… focus purely on the movement of his tongue across her nipple, the color of the ceiling… But now he let himself go, releasing her nipple from his mouth and driving himself into her with more power. She moaned as he did, riding the high of her climax as she rode him, and Elliot was driven mad with lust. He throbbed within her, the power of his climax hitting at the height of his thrust. He groaned, his grip on her ass tightening to the point that she was certain there would be hand marks… and she would wear them like a badge of honor (or sin). She leaned forward, collapsing against him. The sweat that coated their skin mingled, and once again she felt as though they had merged… as though, in this moment, they were one. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she could hear his as well, hammering loudly but in a sort of rhythm with hers. His hands slid up her back lightly and he encircled her with his strong arms, absentmindedly playing with her hair and savoring this moment together, as he would cherish every moment that he shared with her in this way. The thunder roared overhead, the sound of rain pounded against the window AC unit, and Elliot couldn’t imagine wanting to stay in one place any more than he felt in this moment.

 

Olivia breathed in before releasing a sigh and leaning back, looking at him before placing a tender kiss upon his lips. “We better be careful,” she mused, her lips hovering against his, “if we keep this up, we might never be able to stop…” She kissed him again, moving to slide off his lap but he didn’t let her. She turned her gaze back to him, offering a quizzical look. “I just wanted to look at you,” he offered in explanation, the corners of his lips twitching upwards in a small smile, “I want to memorize this moment,” he added, his voice softer somehow. She smiled, but there was a sadness within it… he wanted to memorize this moment, because he had a wife… a family… and this moment was all that they would have. Her smile faltered, guilt overwhelming her suddenly, “I’m gonna go take a shower,” she said suddenly, slipping off his lap and out of his grasp. He arched a brow at her, aware of her sudden mood shift, but not wanting to confront it directly… not wanting to hear what he knew she was thinking. Kathy. He swallowed, hard, struggling to think of what to say instead. “Isn’t it bad luck to shower during storms?” he called after her. She paused at the doorway to the bathroom, turning her head to look at him over her shoulder, “Maybe… but I already got lucky once tonight, so what’s the risk?” she retorted, her tone laced with that familiar snarky undertone. She often used sarcasm as a coping mechanism and this moment was no different. “Lock up on your way out,” she added over her shoulder, trying to sound casual… but aware of the hurt that was etched along the edge of her tone. Her words might’ve burned, the casual way in which she suggested that he depart… but there had been something else there, a sadness that pervaded her voice and alerted him to the truth. Olivia Benson was running away… something she often did when it came to her true emotions.

 

He hesitated, unsure of what to do. The clock on the wall read 00:47. He knew Kathy would be worried… he didn’t dare cross the room and search for his mobile phone that lay amongst their clothes on the floor. His gaze drifted back to the door to the bathroom which had been left open, from here he could hear the water running. Unable to help himself, he imagined Olivia’s naked body… he imagined the way the water ran through her dark hair, the way a droplet might roll down her perfect skin and tumble down the slope of her breasts. Almost without realizing it, he was on his feet and making his way towards the open bathroom door. Her shower consisted of a small bathtub framed by shoddily installed glass, through which he could see the curves of her body in an opaque outline made hazy by the condensation. Steam rose from within the glass box, heating the small bathroom. Elliot chewed at his lower lip, clearing his throat. Olivia jumped slightly, though a part of her had hoped he wouldn’t leave… a part of her hoped that she was irresistible now. “Mind if I join you?” he mused softly, his voice warm but uncertain. She slid one of the doors aside easily and stepped back, giving him room to join her in the small space. Somehow even his imagination of her in the shower hadn’t been as breathtaking as the real thing… he wondered, silently, if there was ever a moment in her life where Olivia didn’t look absolutely breathtaking. His heart raced slightly, giving away the almost boyish nervousness that encompassed him when she was around. He couldn’t help himself; no amount of Catholic guilt could dissuade him… he leaned in, stealing yet another kiss from her. She didn’t resist, she didn’t want to. “You’re incorrigible,” she murmured, lowering her gaze as they broke the kiss, a hint of sarcastic disapproval evident in her tone. He shrugged, “What? You want me to stop?” he retorted, matching her sarcasm. She laughed, shaking her head, “absolutely not…” she replied, her tone honest. In truth, despite the guilt that raged within her, she couldn’t imagine a world in which this was a one-time thing. She couldn’t imagine trying to go back to how things were before, trying to pretend that she didn’t know the way his lips felt against her… trying to pretend that she didn’t know how it felt to make love to him.

 

“Good,” he replied, his voice low, “because I don’t think I can…” he added, pressing his palms to the white wall on either side of her and leaning in to press another passionate kiss to her lips. She leaned back against the shower wall, unable to resist his charm… unwilling to even try. She moaned into the kiss, her hands finding their way to his chest. She didn’t push him away, she just let her palms rest gently against his muscles, enjoying the way they rippled slightly as he moved closer. She bit his lip gently, catching it between her teeth as their kiss deepened, and he moved his hands to her hair, pulling her head back once again to expose her neck to him. He left one hand in her hair as he began to plant kisses on her neck, sucking gently at the spots that made her squirm. His free hand drifted down between her legs to toy with her once again. She was still dripping wet, her body shivered from his touch. He pushed two fingers inside of her backing her firmly against the cool wall of the shower as he did. She quivered; her body hardly able to keep up with the influx of pleasure she had experienced. Her nerve endings felt like they were electrified… like every movement of his fingers was amplified by the traces of her earlier orgasms. “I want to make you cum, Olivia…” he murmured against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. She whimpered with pleasure, a small almost helpless sound… because that’s what she was, helpless against his touch. She squirmed slightly, her whole body alight with the feel of him… the anticipation of what was to come. He lowered himself easily, kneeling cautiously against the hard floor of the tub. Instinctively, she reached for the shelf that was built into the wall and the metal handle of the door, gripping both so tightly that her knuckles grew white.

 

Elliot didn’t hesitate, leaning into her and sliding his tongue across her entrance, savoring the taste of her once again. She shivered and felt her legs threaten to cave. He must’ve felt it because he leaned back and whispered a small, “Trust me?” She nodded, unable to formulate a coherent word, let alone a sentence. He reached around one leg, lifting it over his shoulder, and then the next. She was sitting on his shoulders, as if they were in a pool playing the game ‘chicken’… only in this position she was straddling his face and leaned back against the wall of the shower for support. She was about to question the stability of this position when Elliot’s mouth found her entrance once again, driving her to stunned silence. His tongue swirled in a sort of figure eight motion around her clit, his fingers toying with her as he continued his irregular circular motions. She moaned loudly, her back arching as her hips threatened to rock against his face. If there wasn’t electricity in the storm outside, there was certainly electricity in the shower. The steam hit her skin and somehow felt cold compared to the heat that welled within her at his touch. She was insatiable and Elliot was the fountain of youth… an endless stream of crystal-clear water to quench her thirst and give her life purpose. She tried to hold out, tried desperately to resist the power of his touch, but it was useless. Her body was at his command. She let one hand find his head, encouraging him with her touch and the moans that racked her body and practically echoed off the walls. “El-Elliot…” she gasped, unable to speak properly as her heart raced and her breath rate increased. He supported her easily, shaking his head back and forth slightly as his tongue continued to swirl around her clit. This added motion provided a sort of vibration to his movements and drove Olivia wild. Her hips rocked against him, her entire body reacting to his touch, “Elliot…” she groaned, unable to resist the swell of pleasure that emanated from the core of her being.

 

Her climax hit her so hard that when her toes curled, her calves cramped, and she uttered a small, “oh, ouch!” He leaned back and looked up at her in concern, but she hadn’t noticed… her eyes were shut and her head had lolled back against the wall of the shower. He let her catch her breath, despite the subtle anger that rose in his knees which were uncomfortably digging into the hard surface of the tub. She helped support some of her weight as he shifted one of her legs off his shoulder. Her legs quivered and she knew it was likely that they might give out… but she didn’t care. By this point, his body was beginning to recover, though he was certain that if they fucked again, he would be shooting a blank. He rose to his feet, pulling her towards him and supporting her in his arms as he kissed her deeply. They’d been in the shower for so long that the water had begun to run cold, but neither of them seemed to notice or care. Their kiss was saturated with desire and Olivia reached down to stroke him, only to find that he was already hard and ready for her once again. Without a word, she broke the kiss, and turned away from him, leaning down against the wall of the shower. He hadn’t expected this position, but he certainly wasn’t going to complain… he would cherish any and every view of her perfect body. He aligned himself with her entrance, teasing her briefly by brushing himself against her before pushing himself into her. She was dripping wet, and she still quivered with the aftershock of her orgasm. He couldn’t help the groan of pleasure that slipped from his parted lips. He let his hands find her hips first, pulling her into him as he thrust into her. He couldn’t believe how she made him feel… it was as though he’d never truly experienced things before her. She was like a technicolor television when he’d only ever watched life in black and white.

 

His thrusts gained momentum with each subsequent push and pull, his heart matching the increasing pace. He slid one hand up her back and wound it into her short hair, tugging her head back gently. Her back arched easily and Elliot found himself admiring her flexibility as he continued to drive in and out of her. “Fuck me, Liv,” he growled, his whole body alight with the feel of her. She set his soul on fire… and, in a way that no one else had, she made him feel alive. If this was sin, then perhaps Purgatory or even Hell would be worth it… for certainly, being with Olivia was a glimpse of Heaven. His perfect muscles rippled with the effort of each thrust, but Olivia could only feel his power. She was certain that her body had tapped out, that her knees might give in at any moment. Elliot’s breathing became erratic, and she could feel him throb within her, the strength of his climax approaching. He could feel it coming and, despite knowing it would be a blank…and might even hurt… he couldn’t stop himself. When it finally hit him, he shook violently with the power of it, his toes curling and his grip on her hip tightening. He released her hair, not wanting to pull it too hard, and felt his heart race so hard that he was certain she could hear it. When he finally pulled out, only Olivia’s cum dripped from within her, and she knew that he’d shot a blank… a feat she had never managed with another man. She had made so much love to Elliot Stabler that he had quite literally run dry. She smirked triumphantly as she stood, but the smirk fell away as she turned to look at him, replaced with a look of longing. She wanted so badly to ask him to stay… Stay, she heard her mind whisper, her eyes pleading with him, stay with me… just a little longer. She knew he couldn’t, he already had stayed so long… the clock in the kitchen had chimed at least twice since they’d gotten in the shower. She remained silent, not wanting to beg him… not wanting to be the other woman who begged for a shred of his time. Not wanting to be the other woman at all. And yet, for him… for these secret moments… she would do it.

 

“Maybe,” he began, his voice uncertain, “I can stay for a bit? Just to… be with you?” She was taken aback, but didn’t hesitate as she offered a small nod paired with a softly uttered, “Okay…” She hadn’t expected him to want to stay… let alone to offer. She knew that every moment he stayed here with her, he risked Kathy finding out… or at least suspecting. The water was cold by now, so Elliot shut it off, and slid the shower door open. He grabbed Olivia’s towel and handed it to her. “Here,” she said, slipping past him as she wrapped the towel around her naked body, “I’ll grab you a towel,” she added, slipping out of the bathroom and down the hall to the miniscule linen closet. She retrieved a second towel and returned, proffering it to Elliot who took it with a small, gracious smile. He wiped his face, rubbing the towel back and forth across his hair, and then toweled himself dry. He watched Olivia carefully, simply observing the way she wiped the towel with care across her skin to catch any stray water droplets. They didn’t speak, they didn’t have to… there was a comfort in their silence, that much hadn’t changed, though there was a new undertone to it. It was clear that nothing would ever truly be the same after tonight, though Olivia wasn’t sure what that meant for them. Would this be a one-night stand? Would Kathy find out? If she did find out, would she leave him? Would he leave her? Olivia’s mind whirled with questions that she didn’t dare ask out loud, but somehow, she knew that Elliot was contemplating the same things in his mind… just from a different perspective. He sighed lightly, but she didn’t turn to look at him, instead she toweled off her hair before hanging the towel on a hook that was haphazardly screwed into the wall.

 

She was unashamed to be naked before him, she had no reason to be… after all, he had spent the entire evening thus far exploring her body freely. She made her way into her room without extending a spoken invitation, she knew he would simply follow her… which he did. He watched her with intrigue, simply grateful to have the privilege of looking upon her. She reached into a drawer and extracted an oversized t-shirt and sweats, turning to face him, “I sleep in these sometimes… they’d be more comfortable than what you wore here, you want to borrow them?” she inquired idly, her voice casual. He offered a smile and nodded, grabbing just the pants. He discarded his towel and slipped the pants on, grateful for the soft material. He retrieved the towel and retreated to the bathroom, hanging his towel on the other hook. When he returned to her room, Olivia had already donned the t-shirt she had offered to him and a pair of panties. It was a shame to be deprived of her beautiful naked form, but he was grateful when she slid herself against him as they laid down, side by side. It was so easy laying like this, their limbs intertwined yet again. Her head rested against his chest, her ear pressed against him, listening to his heart rate which had slowed considerably. She smiled to herself, treasuring this rare moment… a moment that very well may never happen again. For however long they laid there, Elliot Stabler was hers… and for that, she was grateful. They hadn’t intended it, but they both drifted off into an easy sleep… their arms still wrapped around one another and their breath rates syncing up effortlessly as they did. They hadn’t checked their phones before they laid down, if they had, they would know that Kathy had tried to reach them both… leaving worried voicemails on each of their phones. Across town, in their suburban home in Queens, Kathy was wide awake, pacing this way and that by the phone. She wore a flannel nightgown that had faded over the years, a gift from Elliot’s mother one Christmas. The lights inside the house were all on, as if they might serve as a beacon that would guide Elliot home.

 

A part of her suspected that he was with Olivia… but she hoped – no, prayed – it was the weather that had kept him out… or perhaps a case that he hadn’t had the chance to update her about. By this point it was nearing 3:15 and Kathy Stabler’s mind was overrun by all the possibilities… a whirlwind of emotions swirled within her. There was, of course, concern… was Elliot okay? There was also anger… Even if it was as innocent as a new case, the least he could do wascall. But the emotion that plagued her most, though she didn’t want to admit it, was jealousy… concern that Elliot’s pretty, young partner – Olivia Benson – had finally seen the way his eyes lit up when Elliot spoke of her. That she had seen his admiration for her… and wanted it for herself. Kathy felt nauseous at the thought, but a part of her knew that it was likely only time. Elliot had never lit up that way when he spoke of her, not that she knew of anyway. Olivia Benson had been a point of contention in their home several times before… Kathy’s insecurities were amplified whenever she came up in conversation, whenever his eyes shone just a bit brighter because the name Olivia left his lips. She swallowed dryly, sinking into the chair by the phone, and let her head fall into her hands. After a few months of their partnership, Kathy had resigned herself to the fact that Olivia would simply be a part of their lives until she chose not to be… it was clear from Elliot’s end that he would be simply unable to choose. Kathy knew he would be trapped between his Catholic obligation to Kathy… and his sinful desire for his partner. Though a part of her had always banked on the fact that he would never go out of his way to disrespect his religion. Somehow, she felt protected by the covenants laid forth in the Bible… protected by the rules that had established their family, their marriage, their life together.

 

When Elliot awoke sometime later, he was so relaxed that for a few moments, he almost forgot that this wasn’t supposed to be happening… he almost forgot that he didn’t always sleep with Olivia wrapped safely in his arms. Resigning to the facts of their circumstances, he turned his head to check the clock and found that the clock read 03:28. “Shit…” he muttered, relinquishing his grip on Olivia who stirred, but surprisingly didn’t wake. He slipped away from her, placing a gentle kiss upon her forehead as he did. With each step he took away from her, his guilt mounted… the weight of it growing with each step he took closer to his home. He stripped off the pants she’d let him borrow, tossing them into a hamper nearby on his way out of the bedroom. In the kitchen he found his discarded clothing, tugging each article on in a rush. He didn’t dare check his phone; he didn’t need to… he knew that Kathy would be up waiting. He knew that she would know something was wrong. He swallowed dryly, unable to assuage the guilt that rose now… rising higher than the highest tide, like a typhoon that threatened to crash over him and tear him down to the foundation. He let himself out of Olivia’s apartment and used a spare key from her bowl to lock the door behind him. He moved to tuck it under the mat where she’d left it before but decided he didn’t like leaving it there… so he would take it home and give it back when he saw her at work. Work. They’d broken the golden rule… you weren’t supposed to mix work and pleasure, but you certainly weren’t supposed to become emotionally involved with your partner. Emotionally involved. Elliot’s mind spun dangerously. He hadn’t intended it to happen, but over their time together as partners, Elliot truly had developed strong feelings for Olivia… feelings that he now knew were requited… feelings that they’d now explored. Could they ever go back to how things were? Did he want to? Could they even be partnersnow? A million questions plagued Elliot’s mind… they kept coming, as fast as his windshield wipers beat against the rain that poured.

 

Kathy was waiting by the window when Elliot’s headlights swept across her. She felt a flood of relief, though a part of her was still anxious… concerned about why he might’ve been out so late. She rushed out of the house to meet him, her bare feet cold against the pavement. She was thankful he was safe… thankful that nothing truly horrible had happened to him. As she approached him, however, she smelled it… she smelled her. Something shifted in her expression, as if lighting had flashed within her eyes, and Elliot knew that she knew. She said nothing, but she didn’t rush into his arms the way she might’ve, instead she froze in place… letting him come to her. He approached slowly, hesitantly… there was a complete disconnect between them, a disconnect he knew was his fault. He’d given into temptation… and it had been worth it, but – like his relationship with Olivia – his marriage would never be the same. Kathy’s rage and anguish boiled up within her, churning like a hurricane gaining force over the ocean… but she remained silent, unable to voice the truth. Unable to admit that it had finally happened, the exact thing she had worried about for so long. She had known the moment he first mentioned Olivia that their marriage might be in peril, but a part of her had always assumed he would choose her… that his morals would preclude him from making such a careless choice. It appears her assumptions had been wildly wrong. She felt hollow, her heart aching as though lightning struck it… and somewhere in the distance, the thunder rolls.