Work Header

Sweet Refuge

Chapter Text





A soft hum fills the air. Her voice is sweet when she hums like this. Though he’s learned from her singing in the shower that as soon as her mouth opens, she can’t carry a tune to save her life. He still hasn’t figured out what she’s humming, but she does it often. The same tune over and over. It could just be a self soothing song she made up, something to calm herself with. He’s not sure but he could listen to it all day. 


She sits there on the edge of the bed, in only a pair of gray cotton underwear. He lies there in the spot he fell asleep in the night before, blue eyes fixated on her. She turns her head just enough so that he can see her face. Her eyes are closed, dark eyelashes resting heavily on her flushed cheeks. The sun bounces off her face, illuminating her with an orange-ish glow. 


She’s stunning. 


Fuck, she’s stunning. 


Olivia Benson opens her eyes and turns her head over her shoulder to look at him. Chunks of messy dark hair fall into her face. Her mouth curls into a soft smile, the remnants of last night’s lipstick still hanging around on her plump lips. 


“Don’t get soft on me, Stabler.” She says to the man lying behind her. Her voice is hoarse, groggy. She sees the way he’s looking at her. The way he studies her. He’s been doing a lot of that lately. 


“Me? Soft?” Elliot laughs. 


Olivia’s expression fades for a moment before a grin graces her lips. She turns around and crawls back into bed with him. He accepts her with both arms, wrapping them around her tightly. 


“You’re the softest man I’ve ever met.” Olivia whispers against his neck, placing a kiss there. There’s wine red little marks all over his neck from the night before. 


Silence fills the room. He doesn’t know whether to ask her if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. To be the softest man she’s ever met. Sometimes he feels like a concrete wall, laughing at people who slide down it on days when he’s feeling particularly vile enough to dampen them. 


“But a sweet place.” Olivia adds, her hand traveling down his bare chest. 


The motel room glistens in some strange way. The walls aren’t the cleanest, they need repainted. The navy comforter on the bed is dated, but clean. She could smell the tide on the pillowcase when her face was buried in it last night. 


A motorcycle blasts down the road near the motel, but neither of them jolt. They do nothing but lie there in each other’s arms. Mornings together are few and far between. Usually she has to go before he does, but this morning — happens to be a morning she has to herself that she decides to give him. 


Olivia’s eyes focus on her gun and badge, lying neatly on the bedside table. 


“Are you here?” Elliot asks. 


She smiles faintly. 


“Here.” Olivia snuggles into his chest. 

. . . . . . 

An hour later, Elliot is in the shower. Olivia sits on the edge of the bed, this time wearing his blue button up shirt. Her hands are braced on the edge of the bed as she stares straight ahead. Blankly at a closed blind. She turns her attention to the gold band sitting on the bedside table. Her gun and badge sit behind it and for a moment, she finds it a little funny that they’re in such close proximity to one another. Just a little. 


The longer she stares at it, the more something vicious stirs around inside her chest.


Olivia stands up and reaches for the ring, fidgeting it around between her fingers a few times before turning and walking into the bathroom with it. She pushes the door open, the sounds of the shower becoming heavier. 


“Change your mind about joining me?” Elliot asks, his eyes closed as he washes his hair. 


Olivia flings the wedding band into the toilet.




She flushes. 

Chapter Text

~ 6 Months Earlier ~

One of these nights

One of these crazy old nights

We're gonna find out pretty mama

What turns on your lights … 

Rings out through the bar. Red light cast on skin and empty glasses, waiting to be refilled. Cigarette smoke fills the place, people’s drug of choice with their drink. 


She sits there alone, studying the room, her drink in hand. Her elbow rests upon the bar, her wrist working in slow motions as she swirls her drink around aimlessly. She’s here for the same reason she usually comes out alone on nights like these. Looking for someone. When a woman works as often as she does, they’re bound to get a little lonely. 


A lot lonely, actually. 

The full moon is calling

The fever is high

And the wicked wind whispers and moans

You got your demons you got desires

Well I got a few of my own

She doesn’t even notice him sit down beside her. Not at first anyways. She’s far too in her own head for that. Thinking. She’s eyeballed one guy in the corner who keeps looking at her and she’s smirked at him a couple of times. But she just isn’t feeling it. He’s cute enough. About her age, maybe a little younger. But he looks like the kind of guy that cry afterwards and that’s not her cup of tea. 


“You here by yourself?” She hears. His voice is low. Friendly. 


Olivia turns her attention to the man sitting beside her. He’s tipping a beer to his lips. The first thing she notices about him is his eyes, right off the bat. They’re the bluest fucking eyes she’s ever seen in her life and at that image alone, something inside her leaps. 


“Maybe.” Olivia smiles, tilting her head. She’s still analyzing him. Burgundy sweatshirt. Jeans. Older. If she had to guess, ten-ish years. Maybe a little more. She judges that based solely on the fact that he has soft lines on his face and his hairline is receding. He has a nice face. Handsome. 


He corners his eyes around at her when she answers him, giving her a soft smile. 


“You?” Olivia asks. Her curiosity has peaked. 


“Yeah.” He hangs his head, his smile fading slightly and his beer still held in the same position she’s holding her drink. Their elbows resting on the bar. 


“What’s your name?” Olivia asks. 


He raises his head and looks over at her yet again. He looks a little surprised. 


“Elliot.” He says, sitting his beer down and extending his hand out to her to shake. 


Olivia narrows her eyes at his hand before slipping her own into it. She shakes his hand firmly. 


“A man that shakes hands. Interesting.” Olivia laughs, still holding onto him. His hands are relatively soft. 


“Shouldn’t we all?” Elliot asks, raising a brow at her. 


“It’s more uncommon than you think.” She grins at him. Their hands are still holding onto each other. It’s only when he pulls his hand away that she feels the ring on his finger. 


Olivia’s brown eyes cast down onto it. She feels a rush of embarrassment come over her. Olivia picks her drink back up and puts it against her wine colored lips. She takes a sip and looks away from him. 




“You okay?” Elliot asks, his expression confused. 


Olivia nods, taking another drink. She sits it down and lets out a laugh, shaking her head. 


“What?” Elliot’s eyebrows knit together. 


“Nothing.” Olivia shakes her head. 


Silence. Elliot picks his beer back up and takes a drink. 


“Most guys just take it off beforehand.” Olivia says. 


Elliot tilts his head at her.


“Take what off?” He asks, genuinely confused. 


Olivia points at his ring.


Elliot stares at her for a moment before his expression relaxes — his eyes widen shortly after. 


“Oh — I’m not, no, I wasn’t—“ Elliot waves his hand, shaking his head ‘no’. 


Olivia gives him a ‘yeah right’ look. 


“I’m not here to pick up women.” Elliot objects. 


“Then what are you here for? To drink by yourself?” Olivia asks, still not buying his story. 


“I just needed somewhere to unwind.” Elliot states. 


“Isn’t that what home is for?” Olivia snickers, taking another sip of her drink. 




She looks at him, eyes flickering up and down. She reaches up and adjusts the thick black strap of her dress. 


“Oh.” Olivia says. It dawns on her. “Tough night?” 


“Something like that.” Elliot says. 

Ooh... someone to be kind to in between the dark and the light

Ooh... coming right behind you swear I'm gonna find you

One of these nights

One of these dreams

One of these lost and lonely dreams now

We're gonna find one

Mmmm... one that really screams

Olivia doesn’t want to hear about it, so she simply doesn’t ask. But God, is he attractive. Nope. She won’t do it. She’s never gone there before and she’s not about to now. 


She feels his eyes on her and for a moment, she considers getting up and walking away — moving down a few seats so they’re no longer sitting side by side. 


For a moment. 


“I’m about to start a new job so I think … things are just stressful right now.” Elliot states. 


“Yeah, that’ll do it.” Olivia says. She really doesn’t want to even open this door. 


“Have you ever been married?” Elliot asks. 


Olivia whips her head around. He’s blunt, this much she’s figured. 


“Too invasive?” Elliot asks. 


“A little.” Olivia laughs, tucking a piece of her short hair behind her ear. “But no, I’m not and I haven’t been.” She adds, turning her attention back to her drink. 


“Don’t.” Elliot laughs, taking another swig of his beer. 


“Noted.” Olivia salutes him. She drops her hand and begins tapping her nails on the granite.


He finally coaxes a conversation out of her. They go back and forth for a while, talking about this and that. Nothing too personal. Random things like the weather and what drinks she prefers over others. What he likes. What sports he’s into. He offers to buy her a drink, but she says no.


“Any contenders?” Elliot asks. 


“Sorry?” She raises both eyebrows at him. 


“Any contenders? You uh … you’re scoping.” Elliot remarks, clearing his throat. 


Olivia turns her attention back to him and narrows her brown eyes. Her lips curl into a slight smirk. 


“Scoping?” Olivia chuckles. 


“Mhm. You have been for a while.” Elliot states. 


“Oh, so you’ve been watching me?” Olivia asks, eyebrow cocked. 




Their eyes lock. 


Elliot slowly forms a smile, toothy and his face flushes. 


“If I was?” He asks, a little breathlessly. 


Olivia stares at him for a moment, looking him up and down. Don’t open that door. Don’t open that door. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t. 


“Then I might be able to … relieve some of your stress.” Olivia looks him up and down, tucking her bottom lip into her mouth. 


Elliot raises both brows in surprise at her statement. 


“How would you do that?” Elliot asks. He should shut this down now, he thinks. Right now. Right now. Right now. 


But fuck this day. It’s been hard and the very sight of this stranger beside him makes something inside him twist and delight.


She’s beautiful. Younger than him. Deep wine colored lips and black eyeliner around pretty brown eyes. Thick lashes. A black dress that fits in all the right places with black hose to accompany it. 


Olivia looks him up and down, her expression coy. 


“Maybe we could … I don’t know …” Olivia scoots around to face him for the first time since they started talking. She licks her lips and tilts her head at him. 


“We could … what?” Elliot asks. 

. . . . . . . . 

The motel room is … interesting. It’s not fancy or necessarily desirable. There’s a bed. Two side tables. Two lamps. The walls are done in some kind of half white, half wood paneling. There’s a bathroom - it’s small. 


When they enter the room, Olivia tosses her keys down on the television stand. On top of it sits a dated TV. Actually, the whole room is dated. 


“This is …” Elliot trails off. 


“Terrible. But … it’s clean.” Olivia shrugs. 


“Yeah …” 


Olivia drops her purse in one of the chairs in the room. There’s two that sit on either side of a tiny round table in front of the window. She kicks her shoes off and corners her eyes around when she notices him watching her. 


“You’ve never done this before have you?” Olivia asks. 


“Done what?” Elliot plays dumb. He knows what she means — and no he hasn’t. 


“Another woman.” Olivia says nonchalantly. “Well, maybe you have but … you’ve never been so …” She snaps her fingers. “Direct, about it, am I right?” 


Elliot puts both hands behind his back, his fingers lacing around his wrist to hold them in place. 


“What makes you think I don’t do this all the time?” Elliot asks. 




Olivia smirks. 


“You’re very reserved.” Olivia states. Their cab ride had been one of her more interesting rides with a man. Lots of small talk and not a lot of touching. Usually, by the time they got back to wherever they’d be spending their evening, she’s at least already kissed a man. But, he hasn’t even tried to kiss her yet. 


“Am I?” Elliot asks, a soft laugh following. He has a nice smile, she thinks. 


“I think so.” Olivia makes her way over to him. “How many women have you had outside of your wife?” She asks curiously. 


“Invasive.” Elliot smirks. 


“Inquisitive.” Olivia grins right back up at him. 


“How many married men have you had?” Elliot asks. It’s a fair question. Her expression drops a little. 


The room goes quiet and Olivia takes another step towards him. 


“How long have you been married?” Olivia asks, arching a brow. 


“I thought we weren’t asking personal questions. Your words, not mine.” Elliot grins, eyes searching hers. 


“Right.” Olivia bites her lip. 


“Don’t do that.” Elliot narrows his blue eyes at her. 


“Don’t do what?” Olivia asks, her bottom lip plopping from her mouth. 


Elliot takes a deep breath. 


“Oh …” Olivia lets out a soft chuckle and she mimics him by putting her hands behind her back. “Are you that starved?” She teases him. 


“How do you mean?” Elliot’s smirk doesn’t fade once. 


“Are you that starved that a woman doing something as simple as biting her lip gets you going?” Olivia asks, tilting her head. 


No, he wants to say. But there’s something about the way she does it that makes him leap in his pants. She likes to tease, he can tell. He’s not sure if it’s just a persona she puts on in front of someone she wants to lay or if this is how she really is but either way, he’s not complaining. 


“Don’t worry.” Olivia whispers, shaking her head. 


“I feel like I should.” Elliot replies, his tone matching hers. 


Olivia’s expression fades for a moment, only for a soft smile to reappear on her lips when he reaches for the hem of his sweatshirt and pulls it up over his head. He drops it to the ground, revealing his bare chest. She cocks a brow at him and looks him over. The tattoo on his arm, the one of Jesus — that catches her eyes first. Then there’s a Marine emblem on his forearm, on the opposite side of Jesus. 


That’s how she feels at that moment. The opposite side of Jesus … if she even cared. She’s not religious. But she knows the man on the side of Elliot’s arm frowns upon bedding married men. 


Elliot takes a deep breath and reaches out to stroke her face but she moves away playfully, side-eying him. 


“What if I’m in charge?” Olivia asks. 


Elliot raises an eyebrow.


“What if I say … when you can touch me and when you can’t?” Olivia asks, her tone lowering. 


She’s having too much fun. 


Elliot’s jaw clenches. 


“Something tells me you don’t like being told what to do though.” Olivia states, brown eyes wandering up and down his bare chest. She reaches out and begins tracing the crucifix tattoo on the side of his arm. 


Elliot’s eyes narrow, studying her. She can tell he is too because she remains quiet. 


“You don’t do this very often either, do you?” Elliot asks. 


“Sorry?” Olivia asks, slightly taken aback by his statement. 


“I can tell.” Elliot says. “I’m a good read.” He adds. 


“I’m good at reading people too.” Olivia ignores his question all together. “I think I have you figured out for the most part.” She adds. 


“Oh?” Elliot asks. 


“You live a very straight laced life. Go home to your kids every night. Have dinner … probably meatloaf, a lot.” Olivia laughs, her fingertip still tracing his tattoo. Up and down, swirling. “And if you’re lucky …” Olivia’s voice trails off. 




Olivia’s expression fades. There’s a part of her that doesn’t feel comfortable with saying what she’s thinking. 


“What?” Elliot’s eyes are narrowed. 


“If you’re lucky,” Olivia takes a step closer to him until their faces are mere inches apart from one another. “Maybe she’ll let you turn the light on.” Olivia’s voice falls off into hoarseness. 


Elliot inhales deeply, eyes flickering over her face. 


“And you like the light on?” 


“Oh I like to see. I have sex with my eyes wide open. Lights on.” 


“Is that so?” 








“So you think … let me get this straight, I’m … what? Vanilla?” Elliot asks. 


“Correct.” Olivia replies straight away, smiling from ear to ear. 


“You don’t even know me.” Elliot laughs. 


She was right about coming home to kids, having meatloaf — more often than he should. Sometimes, Kathy would let him turn the light on.


“I know your type.” Olivia whispers. 


“What’s my type?” Elliot’s brows furrow. 


Olivia thinks for a moment, closing the gap between them by taking one small and final step forward. 


“You’ve probably done the same position for the past, what? Twenty years? And she only ever likes it one way … soft and sweet.” Olivia whispers, her breath tickling his lips. 


She’s right … again. 


“How do you like it?” Elliot deflects. 


She smiles the most devilish smile he’s ever seen. 


“Not soft and sweet.” Olivia fights back a laugh. 


He feels like he’s practically ready to burst through his pants at that point and almost as if she’s reading his mind, her eyes drift down between their bodies and she takes notice of it. The growing bulge. She looks back up at him with a satisfied smirk. 


“Tease.” Is all Elliot says, exhaling deeply. 


“I think you might like it. I think that right now …” Olivia nods. “You might be thinking about pushing me down on that bed …” She points behind her at the full sized bed. “And … what? Giving me your best …” She stops. 


Elliot’s mouth is already falling open. 


“Three … four pumps?” Olivia snickers. 




Any other man may get angry at her snide little remarks. But Elliot sees it as a challenge. She’s pushing his buttons. He wonders how much practice she’s had with this kind of thing. Pushing the buttons of men. 


Elliot takes a deep breath and his shoulders relax. He nods, a grin on his lips. He leans forward so his ear is to her mouth. 


“I think you’ve underestimated me.”


“Oh?” She asks, her laugh breathy. 


“I think you’ll come to find, when I’m inside you …” 




“And I’m fucking you so hard you can’t breathe …” 




“That the last thing on your mind is going to whether or not the lights are on.” 


She goes quiet. Only for a moment. 


“Prove it.” 


Elliot begins backing her up against the bed and she lets out a soft giggle. Their chemistry is through the roof and she can’t say she’s ever experienced that with another man before. Not even ones she’s actually dated. 


“What are you gonna do?” Olivia asks, grinning wildly up at him. 


“Oh you’re gonna see.” Elliot breathes out. 


“Purse.” She says, pointing to the chair at his side. 


“What?” Elliot asks. 


“Hand me my purse.” She states. 


Elliot, with a confused look on his face, reaches for her purse and hands it to her. 


“Thank you.” Olivia’s demeanor completely changes as she flips the flap of the purse open and begins fishing through it. She pulls out two little foil packets. One green and the other gold. She tosses her purse back down in the chair closest to her and holds them out to Elliot between her fingers. 


Elliot slowly reaches up and takes them from her. 


“You’re catholic aren’t you?” Olivia narrows her eyes at him. 


“I thought we agreed no personal questions.” Elliot grins, looking down between them as she begins working on his belt. 


Olivia grins and jerks his fly down — pushing his pants down in one swift motion. She doesn’t have to take his briefs off to see that he’s big. She feels the dull ache between her legs, that formed sometime in between their verbal teasing, ease into a soft throb. 


“You’re excited aren’t you?” Elliot teases. 


“No personal questions.” Olivia repeats his words right back at him with a soft smirk. 


“Bad.” Elliot hums, already fumbling with one of the edges of the condom packet in his hand. 


“What are you gonna do about it?” She asks. She’s feeling pretty bold considering she doesn’t know him. At all. She just met this man a little over two hours ago.


Elliot’s expression drops and he tosses the condoms down onto the bed — one of them already half unwrapped. He’ll get to those in a minute. He grabs her by both arms and spins her around. She gasps in surprise, the very corner of her lip still turned up. 


Elliot pulls the zipper down on the back of her dress. His hands flatten against her bare back, fingers grazing across her bra straps as he pushes the dress from her shoulders. Her skin is soft. So soft. 


“Nah, no more smart mouth. Step out.” Elliot says, his New York flare to his ‘nah’. 


“What?” Olivia teases, looking over her shoulder at him. 


“Step out.” His voice becomes firmer. 




Olivia turns her head over her shoulder, giving him a toothy grin. The side of her nose scrunches up. 


“Nah.” She mimics him, eyebrows bouncing up softly only to relax. 


Elliot narrows his blue eyes at her. He doesn’t know where the hell this woman came from, but regardless of how right or wrong it was, he’s feeling pretty glad that he sat down beside her. 


Guilt lingers around in there somewhere, sure. But right now the tunnel vision they both have for one another is incomprehensible. Maybe they smelled whatever need they had on each other, waiting for the other to satisfy it. 


Elliot jerks the dress down from her body in the same way she pushed his pants down. Quick and rough. She nearly falls over from his abruptness, but balances herself by pressing her knees against the foot of the bed. 


As soon as her dress is in a black clump around her ankles, only then does she step out. Elliot’s hands flatten against her bare stomach, bringing her to his chest. His lips find the side of her neck, his nose nuzzling in between dark hair in efforts to find it. 


The first time she feels his lips, she sighs. They’re nice. Softer than she expected. Skillful. Olivia reaches her arm up to grab onto the back of his neck, her palm flattening against the skin there. 


Elliot drags his tongue across the skin of her shoulder, then back up to a certain spot just behind her ear. She shrugs her shoulders in defense and bursts into a fit of giggles. He pulls back just a little, smiling because he realizes he’s tickled her. 


She snorts. 


“Sorry.” She mutters. 


“Don’t be.” Elliot smiles. The hand that’s flattened against her stomach begins to trail down until it’s resting over her clothed heat. She bucks her hips out barely, but he feels it. “How’s that, baby?” He asks. 


“I hate pet names.” She shakes her head quickly. 


He pushes her underwear to the side, dipping a finger between her folds. 


“I said, how’s that, baby?” Elliot husks against her ear. 


“Fuck …” Her knees go weak. 


“That’s what I thought.” Elliot says, cockily. 


Elliot reaches with his free hand and pulls her leg until it’s hooked onto his four fingers, holding it up so he can work his fingers into her deeper. And he does — he slides them up and down velvety folds, already so slick they’re coated in her. When he slips one and then two inside of her, she whimpers and her head falls back onto his shoulder. 


“Ask for it.” Elliot huffs out against her ear, pulling his fingers from her. 


Olivia’s eyes open halfway, looking at him. A smirk curls on her lips. 


“Nah.” She almost laughs. Almost. It’s breathy. 


He cocks an eyebrow at her. 


“You’re insane.” Elliot laughs, eyes locked on hers. His fingers dip into her once more, curls — then pulls out. His fingertips graze her clit. “Ask for it.” He repeats himself. 


“Please …” Olivia bucks her hips. 


“Please what?” Elliot asks, breathlessly — not quite sure how he’s keeping up on his little balancing act. He’s still holding one leg in the air of hers — the other hand is nestled between her legs. 


“Please, don’t stop.” Olivia moans. 


Then he does what he’s been wanting to do since they were in the cab. He leans in and presses his mouth against hers, silencing a moan that was just about to come out. He remains still for a moment before he begins to kiss her in feverish pecks. 


She opens her mouth for him and he takes that as an immediate invitation for his tongue. Elliot moves his hand from between her legs and trails his fingers up to her neck, leaving a wet streak just around her collarbone. He grips her neck gently in his hands, thick fingers that were just inside her moments before resting there — fingertips that were caressing her sensitive walls now resting just below her chin. 


Olivia moves one hand down between her leg as they kiss, but before she can even get to her destination, he drops her leg from his hand and smacks her hand playfully. She whimpers against his mouth. She’s becoming weaker in his arms and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it. 


Elliot enjoys proving her wrong. 


His right hand trails up to cup her breast through the material of her black bra, where he begins to massage his hand against her. She moans into his mouth and at that point, he pulls away completely and spins her back around to face him. 


Olivia stands there, skin red and on fire for him. He uses the same hand that was nestled between her legs moments before to reach up and run over her neck, flattened. But he doesn’t stop there, he keeps going up the side of her cheek — his thumb grazing her lips. She opens her mouth and playfully nips at the palm of his hand. 


Elliot’s eyes linger heavily on her. Their eyes lock, but in a different way than before. He’s not quite sure what it is, but for a moment they just stop and stare at each other as his hand rests on her cheek, caressing her chin and bottom lip with his thumb. 


“Don’t get soft on me, vanilla boy.” Olivia teases, reaching behind her back and unfastening her bra. 


She lets the bra fall from her shoulders and slide down her arms and before he knows it, she’s completely naked in front of him, all but the little pair of matching panties that he’s already disregarded in his mind. She’s gorgeous. Hands down the most beautiful woman he’s ever been with. He feels guilty for even thinking it, but it’s true. 


He was going to show her vanilla. 


Olivia reaches for the condom on the bed and unwraps the one he started to take out the rest of the way. She pulls it out of the little piece of foil and watches as he pushes his boxers down over his hips. His erection springs free and she grins at him, almost comically — back and forth between his face and hard length. 


“Look at you.” She whispers, brown eyes flickering down. Olivia, without another word, plops down on the foot of the bed. She reaches out and wraps her fingers around his length, giving him a little pull towards her. 


Elliot grunts and walks forward until he’s pretty much standing there in her face. Olivia grins and slides the condom onto him. Her fingers wrap around him and she uses this as an opportunity to pleasure him — to tease, like he had done with her. She begins pumping him into her hand and the moment she feels him twitch in her palm, she lets out a little moan. That dull throb has turned into something that’s pulsing from the inside of her thighs to the pit of her stomach. She squeezes her thighs together.


Olivia bites her lip and begins moving her other flattened hand up his bare chest. He thrusts himself into her hand. As soon as he does, she pulls both hands from him and lays back on the bed, where she begins to crawl backwards until she’s in the center of the bed. Elliot follows her. 


He’s really about to do this. 


He’s really about to do this.


He’s really about to do this. 


With another woman. 


As soon as Elliot comes to her knees, he stops and looks down at her. He can tell by the look on her face that she’s not finished with her antics — he can practically see her wheels turning, concocting her next form of verbal torment. 


“Slowing down on me?” Olivia asks breathlessly, fingers latching onto her underwear. She lifts her ass off the bed and begins pulling them down — in little push pull motions.


Here it comes. 


“If you are, you can just watch … I can take it from here.” Olivia smiles innocently. 


That was an age jab. 


His eyes narrow at her. Elliot clears his throat and moves until he’s hovering above her — he pulls her hands from her underwear, which are only halfway down her legs, and pins them above her head. She lets out a little gasp, and only for a brief moment does her expression change into seriousness. She purses her lips together, her chest rising and falling quickly. 


Blue eyes lock with brown ones and for a moment, he sees her. It’s brief, but he sees her in there, floating around. Not the person she is while they’re playing whatever kind of little game this is, but there’s someone else in there. 


“Do you trust me?” Elliot asks, eyes still narrowed into tiny squints. He hasn’t quite figured her out, but he knows she’s a thrill seeker. 


“I don’t know you.” Olivia says quietly, watching as he lowers his head to kiss her neck. His mouth travels down, and down, until he’s placing soft kisses on her breasts. 


“Are you this bold usually?” He asks seriously, his tongue dipping out to swirl around her nipple. 


“No.” She answers breathlessly. 




He lured a question out of it — she decides she won’t answer any more questions when his mouth is on her. 


“You’ve done this before.” Olivia husks. 


“Not bad for a vanilla?” Elliot smirks, his mouth moving to her other breast, where he begins to suck and kiss. She whimpers. 


“So you have …” Olivia arches into him. 


“Is that a question?” Elliot asks. 


“It’s a statement.” Olivia’s breathing is all over the place. 


Elliot pulls back and without another word, he reaches for her legs, which lay to the side, one on top of the other. When he tries to open them, however — she claps her knees back together in a last ditch effort to fuck with him. 


Olivia laughs, low. 


She really is insane. 


Elliot’s jaw clenches. 


“Vanilla.” She whispers up at him. 


Silence. He stares down at her, practically burning a hole through her. 


She raises her hands back over her head, where she plays with the edges of her splayed hair. Some of it has fallen into her face but she doesn’t make an effort to move it. Her lipstick is a little smeared from their activities but other than that — other than the pile of clothes laying around the room, as if they’re bowing at their fucked up little feet, she’s pretty in tact. 


Elliot licks his lips, a soft grin curling on them. 


“Vani—“ Before she can even mutter the word, his hands are on her hips and he’s turning her around on her stomach — lifting her ass in the air and jerking down her underwear the rest of the way. She gasps into the quilt, hands flying out to the rim of the neatly tucked bedding. She braces herself the moment she feels his tip at her entrance — she can’t see — dark wisps have fallen into her face. 


“Vanilla.” She husks, breathlessly. 


Elliot pushes himself into her. 


Her fingers clench onto the quilt. 


“Mm …” She pants. “Vanilla.” 


Elliot eases into her, inch by inch. 


“Vanilla.” She eggs him on. 


When the front of his pelvis is against her ass, she wiggles against him. 


“How’s that?” Elliot asks, his hands planted firmly on her hips. 


She smirks, turning her head just enough so she can see him through fallen pieces of hair. 


“Vanilla.” She whispers. 


He jolts against her, a grunt leaving his lips. 


“Vanilla.” She moans. 


Elliot pulls out, only to push back in. 


“Vanilla.” She whimpers. 


He’s tired of hearing that word. Elliot’s hand travels down to cup her ass cheek in his hand. He rubs it, gently. 


“Vanilla.” She giggles devilishly, somewhere in the midst of sounds that leave her mouth. 


He slaps. 


“Fuck …” She groans, knuckles turning white. 


“What?” Elliot asks. He begins to move in and out of her, rocking at first before he finds his rhythm. 






“Oh!” Olivia whimpers.


Elliot’s hips begin slapping against her vigorously, the sounds of skin on skin feeling the room. She’s full of him. Her mouth parts more with each thrust, each time he grabs her hips a little harder. 


“Fuck …” Elliot moans, looking down between them. The way she’s wrapped around him is enough to make him come right then and there but he has a point to prove. He watches them for a moment. How they part and rejoin, her slickness covering his shaft. 


“Elliot …” She whimpers, face buried in the quilt. 


He stops. 


“Are you okay?” Elliot asks. 


She laughs. 


“Vanilla.” Her voice is hoarse. 


Elliot rolls his eyes and pulls himself from her. He flips her over in an instance. Her legs are already drawn for him, but once again — he sees those wheels turning. 


She smiles up at him. 


“Tired?” Olivia asks. 


Elliot nestles himself between her legs and re-enters her. He’s glad he turned her over because now he can see her face. Read her. He’s doing something right because her face is just about as red as the light from the bar.


“Vanilla.” Olivia laughs. She doesn’t give up very easily. 


Elliot reaches for both her arms and pins them above her head. His fingers link into hers, and he begins thrusting himself into her deeply. Roughly. 


“Van …” Olivia’s breathless. 


“What was that?” Elliot arches an eyebrow, grunting with every move. 


“V …” 


“Yeah.” Elliot grins, one hand leaving hers and sliding between their bodies. He begins to rub her clit, flicking it between his fingers — anything until he gets the reaction he wants out of her. 


“Vanilla?” Elliot asks. 


She nods, eyes shut tight. 


“Open your eyes.” 


She tries but fails. 


“Vanilla?” Elliot’s voice comes out in a husky whisper. 


“Van … illa.” She cries out. 


“It’s okay baby,” Elliot smirks. She opens her eyes and gives him a dirty look. “You can admit it.” He presses his lips to her ear. “Tell me how much you love my cock being buried inside you just like this …” He jerks forward. 


Elliot comes to a dead stop. She whimpers and moves her hips up against him, but it’s simply not enough. 


“I’ll wait.” Elliot’s blue eyes lock on her much darker ones. “Go on and tell me how good it feels.” 


Olivia makes a face at him, bordering along the lines of looking like she’s about to whine. But she doesn’t. 


“Come on …” She whimpers. That’s all she can get out. 


“Tell me.” His fingers begin to play with her and she swears, she’s completely soaking them from just her arousal alone. 


“I … it feels good.” Olivia moans. 


“What does?” Elliot asks. 


She scowls at him. 


“She’s prideful.” Elliot smirks. 


“Vanilla.” Olivia retorts. 


He jerks his hips forward and she cries out, her nails digging into the palm of his hand. 


“You’re so close already, I can feel it. Tell me how badly you need to come …” Elliot husks down at her.


“Make me come.” Olivia nods, her lips curling up. 


“That’s not a request.” Elliot shakes his head. 


“If you don’t fucking move I’m going to turn you over and—“


He thrusts his hips forward, relentlessly and the moment he does, her mouth flies open and she digs the back of her head into the mattress — eyes rolling so far back for a moment she thinks she sees black spots. She does. They’re all over the place. 


“You feel so fucking good. So warm … wet.” Elliot grunts, his hips slapping against hers. “Come for me. I’m close.” Elliot pants, circling his hips into her. 


That’s all it takes, that little movement and between his fingers working on her clit, plus his hips circling into just the right spot — she begins to come. 


Olivia’s hips jerk forward against him. Her body shakes as she lays underneath his weight. Her hips — her thighs, vibrate around him. 


“Oh fuck! Oh!” She cries. She draws blood from digging her nail into the palm of his hand, which is rested above her head, holding her hands down. 


Elliot, determined to hang on, to prove himself — keeps going. He drives into her with a force he hasn’t had in years. Feeling her spasm and flutter around him would usually be enough to make him come, but he has other plans. He closes his eyes, little moans leaving his lips. He feels a slight vibration beginning at the tip of his length and trickle down. 


Elliot releases her hands and pulls out of her — a whimper leaving her lips as she comes down from her high. He reaches down and pulls the condom off, flinging it somewhere. He positions himself so he’s pointing at her lower stomach. It only takes a few pumps into his hand for him to begin releasing onto the soft skin there. 


“Shit …” He groans, his head knocking back. 


Olivia opens her eyes and watches, eyes slightly widened. Her focus drifts down to the mess he’s made on her and quite frankly — she’s never experienced something so erotic in her life. She would never tell him that. Hell, she’ll never see him again after tonight anyways.


When Elliot’s finished, he falls onto his back beside her. 


They lay there in silence. Both a mess. Both … out of it. 


Only after a moment does Elliot  move further up the bed to grab a box of tissues. Her eyes open and she watches him make his way back over to her. She can’t help but smirk at the fact that he’s really about to try and clean her up. 


She laughs, a little wheezy. 


“What?” Elliot asks. 


Olivia reaches out, knocking the tissue box out of his hand before she pushes him down onto his back and climbs on top of him. 


This goes on for the rest of the night. Their little power struggle or whatever it is. Until Elliot is so tired he practically passes out. 


Detective Olivia Benson, however, is used to long nights awake. Exhausted from cases and what not. She waits until he falls asleep, until his chest is rising and falling softly, before she slips out —  collecting what she could find laying around her clothes. 


She leaves in what she came in, except for her pantyhose. 


As the sun comes up, she opens the door and sneaks one more peak of a sleeping Elliot. 


She shuts the door behind her quietly, leaving the motel. 

Chapter Text


“Mom, tell Dickie to stop.” Maureen whines, scraping green beans out of a porcelain bowl onto her plate. 


“Dickie, stop tormenting your sister.” Elliot chimes in, casting blue eyes over at him. 


Kathy smiles and helps Elizabeth with her plate. Dickie’s shoulders drop and he pokes at his meatloaf. 


Elliot looks down at the meatloaf on his plate and when the realization occurs to him this is the second time they’ve had this very meal this week, he can’t help but let his mind drift to her. 


“Is it okay?” Kathy asks. 




“Elliot?” She asks again, waving her hand in front of her husband’s face. 


“Yeah?” Elliot snaps out of his daze. 


“Is the meatloaf okay? I can make you something e—“


“Nah, nah. This is fine. It’s great. Thank you.” Elliot states, reaching with his hand to scratch his forehead. 


Kathy takes notice of the two red half moon marks on the palm of his hand.


“What happened?” Kathy’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. She points to the marks and Elliot’s expression drops completely, flaring his fingers from his palm and looking down at them.




“Um ….” Elliot thinks quickly. “I must have just …” He trails off. “I must have done it and not realized …” He adds, staring down at Olivia Benson’s nail indentations in his skin. 


Kathy looks at him for a moment before shrugging and turning her attention to Dickie. 


“Dickie! Your father just told you to stop.” She states, her voice soft yet firm. 


Elliot looks back and forth between the nail marks on his hand …


And that fucking meatloaf.


. . . . . . . 


The 16th Precinct 

Special Victims Unit 

June 2nd, 1999

3:42 pm

Monique Jefferies sits on the desk of Olivia Benson. 


“So he calls me, mind you at 4 o’clock in the fucking morning — drunk as hell, and goes ‘Baby I love you, but I hate you’.” Monique laughs, looking down at Olivia who is twirling a pencil around between her thumbs and index fingers — around and around. 


Olivia chuckles, throwing her head back for a moment and leaning further back into her seat. 


“He really said that to you?” Olivia snorts, brown eyes cornered up at her partner. 


“Girl, he said it. I told him if he ever called me again at that hour with that kinda shit then I was going to put his balls in a blender.” Monique claps her hands together, laughing. “As per your suggestion.” Monique adds, shimmying her shoulders towards Olivia. 


“I’m glad I could help.” Olivia smirks. “What did he say to that?” 


“Not a damn word, he’s already afraid of me from the last time I pulled—“


“Jefferies, Benson. I need you to head down to Riker’s and talk to TJ Larson about the O’Rian case. Munch and Fin are out making their rounds but we need to hone in on this before Larson’s prison buddies give him a heads up.” Cragen states, two folders in his hands. 


Monique hops down from Olivia’s desk and reaches for her badge from her own desk across from Olivia’s. 


Olivia stands up and reaches for her blazer that hangs over the back of her chair and the coffee Monique brought her earlier in the morning. It’s cold but she’s been reheating it every so often with coffee from the little kitchen area behind her. 


“On it.” Olivia and Monique say simultaneously. 


. . . . . . 

Olivia and Monique get out of the sedan. Olivia’s shoes crunch into the gravel beneath them. She looks up at the building, tilting her head at it. She’s been to Riker’s countless times before and it’s one of her least favorite aspects of this job. She’s met some interesting individuals inside these walls. 


Olivia lets out a soft sigh, looking over at Monique with a playful swing of her head. 


“You first.” Olivia jokes, nudging her shoulder into Monique playfully. 


“How kind.” Monique rolls her eyes, taking the first step towards the building. Olivia follows closely behind. 


They eventually begin walking side by side one another into the facility, making small talk back and forth about the person they’re there to see. When they come into the building, they’re met with a correctional officer. Tobias. They know him.


“Ladies.” Tobias smirks, looking back and forth between the two. He’s a heftier man. He’s holding a cup of coffee in his hand. 


“Tobias.” Monique begins. “We’re here to see Thomas James Larson … should be on the schedule already. Cragen called over.” She adds. 


“How are you today, Olivia?” Tobias grins. 


“I’m good. Even better if you’ll send us through.” Olivia smiles back, her tone firm. 


Tobias nods and starts searching through the schedule. 


“Mm … it’s not on this one.” Tobias shakes his head, sitting his cup of coffee down. “Hold on … oh, wait.” Tobias states, tossing the clipboard down onto the desk. “Stabler,” Tobias calls into the room behind him — the door is ajar. 




“I think I brought the wrong clipboard out earlier, can you bring me the one from today?” Tobias asks. 


“Where is it?” He asks from the room. 


Olivia raises her head, her attention focusing on the back room door. 


“It should be beside the computer.” Tobias states, putting his hands on his hips. He looks back at Monique and Olivia.  “Sorry, ladies.” Tobias rolls his eyes. “New guy.” He adds. 


Monique nods awkwardly, her arms crossed. 


“I found it.” Elliot says as he comes out of the back room, clipboard in hand. 


Olivia’s expression drops entirely, her mouth falling agape. 


“It was on top of the file ca—“ Elliot looks up from the clipboard, his attention immediately focusing on Olivia. 


Olivia stares at him for a moment before looking away. Her hand flies to the back of her neck, where she begins to rub vigorously.


“Cabinet.” Elliot finishes, passing the clipboard to Tobias. 


Tobias begins flipping through the sheets of paper attached to the clipboard. Monique looks back and forth between Elliot and Olivia, eyebrow raised. 


“You two know each other?” Monique asks. 


No answer. 


Elliot’s eyes are still firmly locked on Olivia. She however, won’t even look at him. Her face is as red as Monique’s shirt. 


“Here. Detective Olivia Benson and Detective Monique Jefferies.” Tobias states. 


Elliot looks Olivia up and down, eyes slightly widened. Eyebrows raised. She looks different when they’re not in a red lit bar. When they’re not in a dimly lit motel room. When he’s not on top of her, making her c—


“Olivia?” Monique asks. 


Olivia jumps a little. 


“You gotta sign in …” Moninque says, still looking at both Elliot and Olivia with an awkwardness. 


Olivia reaches for the pen and jots her name down on the clipboard Tobias is holding out for her. She passes the pen to Monique. As Monique signs, only then does she look back up at Elliot — who is gazing unapologetically at her. 


He’s wearing a light blue button up shirt. Short sleeved. His badge, golden, hangs over his heart. Below it is a small white name tag with ‘STABLER’ written on it. 


He looks different when they’re not sitting beside each other in a bar. He looks different when they’re not teasing each other in the middle of a motel room. When he’s not coming all over her stom—


“Liv … you coming?” Olivia turns her attention to Monique, who has already begun her walk down the hallway. 


“Yeah.” Olivia says. She takes a few steps forward and looks back once more at Elliot Stabler. 


The person she least expected to run into ever again. 

. . . . . . 

It’s late the next night. Olivia comes down from the steps of the precinct and heads towards her car, keys in hand. It’s been raining, so she steps over a puddle. She tucks a piece of short hair behind her ear and looks down, paying attention to where she’s stepping so water doesn’t splash up her leg. 




Olivia turns around quickly when she hears her name coming from behind her. She sees him standing there with his hands in the pocket of pants. He’s in a gray sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. 




“How did you—“ 


“Tobias said you were with SVU so … I … took a chance.” Elliot shrugs, staring at her. 


“I wish you didn’t.” Olivia states bluntly. 


Elliot’s expression drops slightly. 


“Can we talk?” Elliot asks, taking a step towards her. 


“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Olivia shakes her head. 


Other officers walk past them as they leave for the evening. Some are going in as well. 




“Why not?” Elliot asks with a shrug, a slight grin on his lips. “I thought we had fun.” He adds. 


“We did. But … now that’s over so the whole ….” Olivia looks him up and down for a moment. “The whole idea of a one night stand is just that. A one night stand. You see each other and go on about your li—“ 


“Do all of your one night stands go like ours did?” Elliot asks, tilting his head. 


Bold of him. 


Olivia lets out a small laugh and tilts her head. 


“My suggestion to you …” Olivia takes a step towards him. They’re just a few inches apart. “If you’re looking for anything beyond a random night … then maybe you should go back to the bar and find someone who is into the thrill of screwing a married guy.” She slaps him on the shoulder playfully and turns around to walk away. 


“Isn’t that why you took me to a motel?” Elliot asks. 


Olivia stops dead in her tracks. 


“To screw a married guy.” Elliot states. 


Cops are still walking by. 


“Sssh!” Olivia puts her finger up close to her lips, scowling at him. 


Elliot stares at her. 


“Go home.” She states, turning to walk back to her car. She approaches it and as she does, she hears his footsteps behind her. Olivia whirls around yet again, this time, her hand goes to her side and rests on her gun. 


Their eyes lock. 


Elliot looks down at her hand then back up to her face. She’s serious. 


“I’m … I’m not going to hurt you. Are you kidding me? If I was going to hurt you wouldn’t I have done that at the mo—“ 


“Stop talking so loud.” Olivia chastises him. Her hand falls from her gun and she leans against the car. 


“I kind of thought you would’ve been there after everything. I thought we had a good time and—“ His voice is lower, but she cuts him off. 


“Elliot, we fucked. That’s all. What was I supposed to do? Stay the night with you and go for breakfast the next morning?” Olivia asks. 


Fair enough. 


“Was that all? We were pretty comfortable with each other.” Elliot shrugs. 




“And … I thought—“ 


“You thought wrong.” Olivia shakes her head. “Look, Elliot. I’m sure you’re a pretty good guy. You seem like you are. But … I’m not really interested in anything beyond what happened.” She adds, brown eyes locked on his. 


It begins to rain again. Drizzles at first. 


“Do you wanna go get some food? I’m sure you’re hungry …” Elliot trails off. It’s late and he’s willing to bet she hasn’t had dinner yet. 


“Like I said, I’m not interested. So, good night. Go home.” Olivia holds her hand up and climbs into her car.


Olivia sticks her keys into the ignition. When she hears a light tap on the passenger side window, she looks over to see Elliot standing there, practically already drenched from the downpour. 


Olivia rolls her eyes and leans over the seat, rolling the window down just a bit. 


“You know I’m a cop right? I could arrest you right now for harassment.” Olivia states, her voice firm. 


“Cuffs and all, huh?” Elliot teases. 


Olivia’s expression drops. She walked right into that one. She rolls her eyes and pops the car door open because for some reason, she doesn’t want him stuck out in the rain. 


Elliot climbs in. 


“Look, I get it —  you’ve never done this before.” Olivia begins, a soft sigh following. “But really, Elliot — trust me, as you go on and you find other women—“ 


“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.” Elliot blurts out. Rain is still dripping down his face. 


Olivia stares at him, brown eyes fixated almost comically on him. 






“I will shoot you.” Olivia states seriously. 




“And I believe that.” Elliot replies. 


Olivia cracks a smirk. 


“C’mon … one coffee.” Elliot says, his tone low. 


“I don’t know if I want to involve myself with such a stubborn son of a bitch.” Olivia states playfully. 


“I think you might.” Elliot grins. 


“You don’t know me. Or what I think.” Olivia says. 


“I think you were surprised to see me yesterday.” Elliot begins. “And I have a hunch … just like me, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.” 


Olivia’s quiet. 


Elliot holds his hand out to her and opens his fist to reveal the nail marks on the palm of his hand. They’re fading but they’re still there. Brown eyes fall down to his palm. 


“I look at it and …” Elliot begins, his voice becoming lower. “I get hard.” 


Olivia cocks a brow, eyes flickering up to his face. 


“That must be … so difficult for you.” Olivia teases, a straight expression on her face. 


“Poor me.” Elliot grins. 




“You don’t want coffee. You’re such a liar.” Olivia laughs, shoulders shaking. 


“See. You read me so well.” Elliot smirks, a satisfied expression on his face. “Smart girl.” He adds, his smirk fading as blue eyes look her over. 


Olivia looks back down to the palm of his hand and takes a deep breath. He closes his fingers, bringing his palm away from her hand. 


“Or all men are the same. Liars.” Olivia suggests with a light laugh.




“And now?” Olivia asks. 




“Are you … having a difficult time?” Olivia asks, cornering her eyes around at him yet again. 


Elliot smiles devilishly at her. 


“Maybe.” He replies. 


“Now who’s being a tease?” Olivia asks with a laugh. 


Elliot turns in his seat, leaning over the console. “Let’s just say … yesterday, if there were no one else around … I would’ve had you right there on the desk.” Elliot states, his expression fading into seriousness. 




“You’re insane.” Olivia states. Heat rushes up her neck. 


“So are you.” Elliot grins. 


“You don’t know me.” 


“I know enough.” 


Their eyes lock. She averts her attention to his lips and before she can even really think about what she’s doing, she practically jumps into his lap — straddling him and thanking God it’s raining because it’s fogged the windows enough for their private interaction. 


Their lips connect immediately and open almost just as instantly. Elliot moves his hands to her waist, but they don’t stay there long before they slide down to her ass where he grips her into his hands. She moans. Her hands fly to his face, cupping his cheeks in them. She sits her crotch against his, giving a slight rock. 


“Poor thing.” Olivia whispers against his mouth, feeling the hard bulge in his pants. “Letting your mind …” She kisses him again. “Run away with you.” 


Elliot’s hands move up underneath the back of her black button up shirt, fingertips grazing bare skin. Their lips work feverishly against each other. He groans when she bites his lip. 


“Vanilla.” Olivia smirks against his lips. He smiles back against hers, breaking apart for a moment. 


“Nah.” He teases.


Olivia grinds against his crotch, inciting a groan from him. 


“Vanilla.” She breathes out, a soft moan leaving her lips from the contact alone. 


Elliot’s blue eyes lock on hers. Their lips reconnect. After a few deep pecks, he breaks their kiss once more. He brings one hand out of her shirt and dips them into his pocket, where he fishes out a single key — room 4B on a white tag. 


Olivia raises an eyebrow at him as her face hovers above his. She breathes out heavily against his lips, letting out a little snort from the laughter she’s fighting back. He definitely doesn’t want coffee. 


“Vanilla.” Olivia teases once more. 


He leans up and kisses her again, nipping at her bottom lip. 


“Nah …” He shakes his head, blue eyes far too blue for them to be in the dark of her car. 


“Chocolate, baby.” 

Chapter Text

“Say it.” Elliot huffs against the inside of her thigh. 


Olivia smirks, legs thrown over his shoulder. The red light from the motel sign casts on one side of her face. 


“Vanilla.” She laughs that laugh. The one she gives him when she’s fucking with him. 


Elliot kisses the inside of her thighs in open mouthed kisses. 


“Chocolate.” Elliot whispers, blowing on her clit. 


She whimpers, bucking her hips up from the bed. 


“Vanilla.” Olivia gasps, a large grin on her face, pleasure mixed in. Her hands grasp at the sheets, pulling on them every time she anticipates his tongue, which hasn’t come yet. 


Elliot opens his mouth and playfully bites the inside of her thigh. She groans, wiggling her hips — but he’s got them held in place with his hands, large and muscular against her tan skin. 


“Elliot …” Olivia wiggles around, her heel sliding up and down Elliot’s spine. 




“Stop teasing me.” 


“Say it.” 




“Vanilla.” Olivia’s breathing is all over the place. 


“Don’t you wanna come?” Elliot asks, eyebrow arched. 


Olivia grins, propping herself up on her elbows and looking down at a very comfortable Elliot Stabler. He’s lying on his stomach, his cheek pressed against one of her thighs. 


“You should know by now I don’t give in so easily.” Olivia grins. 


Elliot smirks up at her. His blue eyes flicker down to the trimmed patch of hair between her legs and further down until he spots the engorged area she needs him most in. She’s soaked. 


“What if I just left you like this?” Elliot asks, clearly teasing. 


“You wouldn’t.” Olivia says, breathless. 


“I think we’re both a little insane like that.” Elliot’s expression drops, only for a moment. 


She knows he’s right. This man, this stranger, essentially lying between her legs — she’s never had so much sexual chemistry with another man before. 


“I need you …” Olivia groans. She’s throbbing. He’s been teasing her for a solid hour. Blowing on her — fingering her. But what she wants is his mouth and he’s made damn sure that’s all she wants.


“You’re gonna have to do better than that.” Elliot grins innocently, placing another kiss on the inside of her thigh.


“I’m not saying it.” 


“Then you won’t come.” 


“Vanilla.” She smirks. 


Elliot shrugs and goes to sit up but she uses her heel to push him back down. He lets out a breathy laugh. 


“Chocolate. Because you know that’s what this is. I can see … you know what this is.” Elliot runs his middle finger between her folds. 


Olivia falls onto her back and moans, bucking her hips against his fingers. 


“Just say it, baby.” Elliot whispers, one hand coming from her hip where he begins to massage her breast in his hand, his thumb circling her nipple. 


“Stop calling me that.” Olivia husks, eyes shut tight. 


“You like it.” 


“I hate it.” 


“We’ll see.” Elliot grins, his finger dipping inside of her, curling. 


“Fuck …” She rocks her hips against it. 






His mouth, finally, leans forward and he drags his tongue between her wet folds. 


“Ohhh!” Olivia whimpers. 


“Chocolate.” Elliot whispers against her. 


“Fuck …” 


“That’s not it. Chocolate.” He drags his tongue out again. 


“Fuck you.” Olivia laughs in between pants. 


“Soon.” Elliot laughs, his lips enveloping her clit. He begins to suck gently against her. 


“Oh God …” Olivia curls her toes into his back. 


“Chocolate.” He grins against her. 


“Chocolate.” Olivia finally says, breathlessly. 


“What was that?” Elliot asks, his fingers pumping into her — his mouth working skillfully. 


“Chocolate! Fuck! Chocolate!” She groans, her hands flying down where she places both hands on the back of his head. 


“You taste so good. Is that what you wanna hear … baby?” Elliot grins. 


“Stop talking.” Olivia huffs. 


“Say … I love it, baby.” Elliot leans up for a moment, his chin and mouth covered in her arousal. “Say it.” He says in an almost wild tone. 


“I love it, baby.” Olivia pants, chest rising and falling. 


She’s gone. Just like that. 


“Please don’t stop.” Olivia whimpers, thrusting her hips against his hand — his mouth. 


“I know you love it … baby.” Elliot grins. She told him last time they were alone like this that she hated pet names. But here they were, lying stripped stark naked in the center of a random motel bed — and he was coaxing baby this and baby that out of her. 


“I-I’m gonna come …” Olivia shakes, her voice quivering. 


Elliot buries his mouth between her folds, blue eyes cast up on her so he can watch her come undone. When she does, something inside him leaps at the sounds she makes. Passionate. Unbridaled. Like he imagines she is on days when she’s not putting on a tough front — he’s learned that about her already. She pretends a lot. 


His fingers remain at a steady rhythm, in and out. His tongue dancing between her folds, taking her all in. Every drop. 


When he’s sure she's finished, only then does he pull away. 


Elliot sits up on his knees and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He watches her. Eyes shut tight. Her legs crossed one over the other, maybe in effort to not feel so empty without his mouth. Without his fingers. 


When Olivia finally opens her eyes to meet Elliot’s intense blue ones, she gives him a faint smile. 


He’s staring down at her in such a way that makes her expression fall completely. A blank stare graces over her. A flushed neck, blotchy cheeks from what they’ve been doing. 


They gaze at each other, long and hard. Of course she’s the first to break it. She reaches up with her foot and puts it on his chest gently. 


“Don’t go getting soft on me, Stabler.” Olivia says, her voice hoarse. She looks over on the bedside table and reaches for one of the condoms lying there. 


Beside it is her gun, her badge, and his wedding band— gold and inscribed with his ten year anniversary date. 


She pulls it out of the foil and hands it to him. 


Elliot’s still staring down at her. 


She tilts her head up at him — still extending the condom for him to take. 


“Are you too tired?” She asks, not in a funny way, but almost a … caring way. If he had to guess. “It’s okay if you are …” She adds, her voice low. 


He smiles down at her, taking the condom from her. 




“Nah.” Olivia mimics him, a smirk growing on her lips. She opens her legs and he nestles himself between them after putting the condom on. He positions himself at her entrance and slowly slides inside.


“Mm …” Olivia hums. 


“Are you okay?” Elliot asks, eyebrow raised. 


“You’re too soft.” Olivia huffs. “I’m fine.” She adds. 




Elliot fills her completely, his hands on her hips.


“Fuck me.” Olivia huffs, her lips close to his. 



. . . . . . 

Another hour passes, long after they’ve finished. He doesn’t hold her — she doesn’t want that. Or he thinks. She’s cold in that regard. They lie on their back. He watches her as she looks out the window, the red light casting in on them both. 


“If we’re going to do this, what we talked about in the cab last time stands.” Olivia whispers — her attention turned away from him. 




“No personal details. We meet, do our thing, and go on. It’s like …” She looks over at him. “Like we don’t exist to each other outside of this. Understand?” She asks, brown eyes wide. Serious. 




“What is there to talk about if we don’t talk about ourselves?” Elliot asks, his tone low. 


Olivia smiles. 


He likes her smile. 


She likes his too, if she would admit it. 


“That’s exactly the point. There is nothing to talk about.” Olivia whispers. 


Elliot scowls at her somewhat. He turns over on his side. 


“Let me hold you.” Elliot says.


Olivia’s expression drops. 


“Or not.” Elliot says, turning on his back again. 


“Y-you can.” Olivia says, rolling over towards him. “If you want.” 


“Yeah.” Elliot nods, opening his arm for her. 


Olivia cuddles to his side, laying her head on his chest. 




“I just didn’t think you would want to.” Olivia whispers. 


She’s tense against him and she doesn’t relax for a good while. And when she does, she sits up and declares it’s time for her to leave. 


. . . . . .


They dress together. He watches her put her holster back around her hips. Clip her badge on the front of her pants. She hands him his wedding band, which is the last of his belongings to go on. 


Elliot makes the bed and she teases him for it, telling him they’re going to strip it anyways. 


“It’s better to just strip it for them.” She says, “That’s the nice thing to do.” 


But for some reason that seems inappropriate so he makes it anyway. 


Olivia walks out of the room first, the night air hitting her in the face. She tucks a piece of her messy hair behind her ear and leans up once more to kiss him on the corner of his mouth. He leans into her. 


“You have my number.” Olivia says, brown eyes fixed up on him. 


Elliot shuts the motel room door behind them - 4B. 


“I have it.” He replies, his hand finding hers. They play with each other’s fingers while they stand there. 


“Okay. Night.” Olivia says, departing from him. As she walks away, he holds onto her hand — their arms stretch completely until eventually, they break away. 


He watches as she begins down the stairs from the second level of the motel. Elliot didn’t even notice the guy sitting on an old milk crate just a couple doors down from him, until he begins to speak. 


“Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge.” The man slurs his words — his head resting against his motel room door. 


Elliot looks up from watching Olivia making her way to her car, which is just below where he’s standing. 


“I’m sorry?” Elliot asks. 


The man is clearly drunk — rambling. 


“People are broken, fragile things.” The man slurs, his hand coming up to rub at his white beard. “Broken, fragile things claw at other broken, fragile things — having no idea that they’re just as crumbled.” The man goes on his philosophical , drunken rant. 


Elliot ignores him, somewhat, at first. He rests his hand on the railing and looks over and down at Olivia, who is fumbling with her keys to unlock her car door. 


“Hungry creatures feed off other hungry creatures, just so long as they’ll lie down and allow themselves to be eaten.” The man continues. 


Olivia looks up at Elliot once more. Their eyes lock. 


“And sometimes, they eat off each other until there’s nothing left but two full, empty dead things.” The man finishes. 


Elliot takes a deep breath when Olivia breaks their gaze, offering him a small smile before getting into her car and starting it. He watches her pull away and drive out of the parking lot — merging onto the street. 


Elliot, without a word to the rambler, makes his way down the stairs next. They had agreed not to leave together. That they would always come and leave separately. 


“Yeshua loves you. Confess your sins and you’ll be relieved.” The man adds, picking up the liquor bottle that sits between his legs — tipping it at his lips. 


Elliot ignores him, making his way to his own car. 

Chapter Text

Olivia sits in the middle of the bed. A new motel room. A new road outside the window, traffic still running rampant. Elliot comes from the bathroom, in only his briefs. He looks over at her as she plays with the hem of her t-shirt, twirling it around her finger aimlessly. She’s off in another world. 


“Liv?” Elliot asks. 


“Olivia. We talked about that.” Olivia states, brown eyes flickering up at him. 




“Are you okay?” He asks, eyebrows knitted together. 


“I’m fine.” Is all Olivia says, before sitting up on her knees and wiggling her finger in a come hither motion. 


Elliot walks over to the bed and on his way over, she pulls her t-shirt off. The only thing she’s wearing. They’ve been here for a while, doing what they do. Olivia wraps her arms around Elliot’s neck and leans in, pressing her lips to his. 


They stay like that for a moment. Elliot stands at the foot of the bed, his arms around her waist, and she’s on her knees pressed up against him — kissing him. 


“What have you been telling your wife?” Olivia asks, pulling back so that their noses are barely touching. 




“We’re not going to pretend that she doesn’t exist, are we?” Olivia asks, cocking an eyebrow. 


“No, no. Of course not.” Elliot replies, blue eyes drifting down to her lips. He kissed her lipstick off. 


“I tell her that I’m working overtime.” Elliot confesses, his voice low. “Wait, isn’t that a personal detail? And isn’t that—“


Olivia leans in and kisses her lips. 


“Forget I asked.” Olivia whispers, nipping at his bottom teeth. She reaches down and begins pushing his briefs down. 


“Hold on.” Elliot laughs, taking her hands into his. 


Olivia sighs.


“I think it’s fine to want to know about each other.” Elliot shrugs.


“I don’t. I think this makes things a lot less … complicated.” Olivia says, brown eyes locked on his. 


“Do you always call the shots?” Elliot gives a curious expression.


Olivia tilts her head at him and smirks — raising both eyebrows. 


That’s a yes. 


“So I’m confused, do you want to pretend that my wife exists or that she doesn’t?” Elliot asks, letting out a laugh. 


“What wife?” Olivia asks. 


“Oh, don’t do that.” Elliot laughs again, shaking his head. 


“Kiss me.” 


Elliot narrows his eyes at her, studying her for a moment. She’s guarded. That much he can tell. He’s not sure what sparked the thought of Kathy in her mind — hell, she doesn’t even know her name. But it was interesting to him that she brought her up. 


Nonetheless, he leans in and presses his lips to hers. Their kisses are intense. Passionate. Always. Sometimes he thinks it may be because of their age difference and she has more zeal than he does. Maybe it’s because she’s more experienced than him. Or maybe both. 


Elliot’s hands slide down her waist and cup her ass cheeks, where he gives them a firm squeeze. She hums into his mouth, hands snaking up and down his bare shoulders. One hand, points off at her index finger where she traces his crucifix tattoo. 


Their lips part. 


“Don’t I get any say? What if I want to know about the person I’m sleeping with.” Elliot states. 


“We haven’t been sleeping.” Olivia grins. 


“You know what I mean.” 


“Just call it what it is.” 


“We’re sleeping together.” 


“No, we’re fucking.” Olivia shrugs, brown eyes looking around. 


“It sounds so …” 


“What? Honest?” Olivia asks, staring him down. “This isn’t some … mad, passionate love affair. Elliot.” 




“We meet, we have sex, we go live our lives. There’s no …. Oh baby, I’ll leave my wife for you or … oh Elliot, please — please choose me.” Olivia heightens her voice for theatrics. “This is just two people … looking for …” 


“Comfort?” Elliot asks, tilting his head. 


Olivia stares at him. 


“I was going to say a fun time.” Olivia replies, her voice still a little hoarse from their earlier activities. 


“Is that what everything is to you, a fun time?” Elliot asks. 


Olivia scowls at him and backs away. She gives him a light pull and he falls down onto the bed — onto his back. Her life, apart from this, is the opposite of fun. 


“You know what I do.” Olivia turns her head to look at him. “I’d hardly call that a fun time.” She stares him down. 


He regrets being so careless with his words. 


Elliot takes a deep breath, blue eyes locked back just as intensely on her. 


“I want to make it better.”


“Stop saying things like that.” 




“Because …” Olivia trails off, lying down on her back and throwing her arm over her breasts.


“Because then I’m human. And you’re human?” Elliot asks.


Olivia’s gaze remains fixated on him heavily. Those words, to anyone else, may not make much sense but she understands them in the moment given their context. 


“Vanilla.” She smiles at him. 


“Chocolate.” He shakes his head with a smirk. 


Olivia turns over quickly and straddles him. Their faces are mere inches apart. She leans down and presses her lips to his briefly. 


“There’s nothing you can do to make it better.” Olivia begins. “It’s not a fun job, but it’s who I am. And that’s all you’re getting.” Olivia adds with a faint smile. 


Elliot looks up at her for a moment, taking in her words and thinking about them. Is her job her main identity? Is she so lost as a person outside of it that she doesn’t know how to let a man even remotely past the exterior she’s built? 


“You wanna know what I think?” Elliot asks. 


“Nah.” She mimics his usual flare. 


“I think—“


“You know, that’s the problem. You think too much.” Olivia teases. 


“I think just enough.” Elliot retorts. 


“Think less.” She scoots down and pushes down his briefs the rest of the way. “Do more.” She cracks a smirk. 


“But if I don’t think about what I’m doing, how can I do more?” Elliot asks, the grin on his face growing as he watches her crawl backwards down his body a little more. 


“You’re like a genius toddler, has anyone ever told you that?” Olivia asks with a snort. 


Elliot’s expression drops. 


“Don’t get soft on me.” Olivia smiles up at him. 


He melts. 


Damn her. 


She runs her hand, flattened up against his chest — slowly. Up and down as her lips come down to kiss along his pelvic bone. The moment her fingers reach and wrap around his hardening length, she feels him leap in the palm of her hand. 


“Oh?” Olivia’s eyes flicker up at him. 


“Don’t start.” Elliot laughs, letting out a soft hum as she begins to stroke him. His expression contorts, pleasure coursing over it. 


“Don’t start or don’t stop?” Olivia asks, eyebrow raised. 




Olivia pulls her hand away. 


“Don’t stop.” Elliot grunts out. 


Her hand comes to wrap back around his length. He’s getting harder by the second. When he’s fully erect in her hand, she leans forward and places a kiss on the very tip of him. 


“Shit …” Elliot’s head falls back onto the mattress. 


If he were to look down, he’d see Olivia smiling devilishly up at him. But he can’t, because the moment her mouth begins to envelop over him, he bucks his hips up in a soft jolt. She begins to suck gently, bobbing her head in soft motions. 


“Do you like that?” Olivia asks, pulling away from him only for a moment. 


“Hmm … “


Olivia takes him back into her mouth where she flattens her tongue against his tip, swirling around it.


“Fuck.” Elliot looks down at her finally and when he does — he nearly explodes right then and there from the simple fact that she’s pulled away, and a trail of spit drops from her mouth, down onto him and begins sliding down his length. She takes notice of him watching her and cocks an eyebrow. Brown eyes remain locked on blue ones the entire time she fits him back into her mouth, her hand resting around the base of his shaft. 


“Hmm … fuck …” Elliot grunts, his chest rising and falling quickly. The feeling of her wet, warm mouth around him is enough to drive him crazy. She’s good. Too good. He finds himself wondering in that moment just how much practice she has had. 


He stings with jealousy.


“Want you around me.” Elliot pants, another groan leaving his lips when she leaves him with a soft ‘plop’. 


“You want what?” Olivia asks, going back down yet again — lips wrapped around him, soaked in her spit and the saltiness that’s already leaking. 




Olivia pulls back, her hand stroking him up and down in quick, solid motions. 


“You have me.” Olivia whispers, licking her lips before leaning down to continue. 


Before she can even touch him with her lips, Elliot leans up and pushes her backwards. A sound leaves her. It’s not surprise or anything like that. It’s satisfaction. 


She’s gotten what she wanted. 


“What are you gonna do?” Olivia asks, egging him on, knees already drawing into her stomach. 


Elliot huffs. 




“Vaaaaa ….” Olivia sings, “Nilla.” She bursts into laughter. 


Elliot rolls his eyes and reaches for one of the many little foil packets laid out on the side of the table — courtesy of Olivia Benson. 


He sits up on his knees long enough to unwrap it and slide it on. But when he goes to lean forward, she stops him with her foot — flat against his chest. 


“I asked you a question.” Olivia smirks. 


Elliot narrows his eyes. 


“I’m going to fuck you.” 


“Vanilla.” She snorts. 


Elliot knows what she wants and the last thing he wants to do is disappoint. That urge, the one he had on their first night together, reappears. The urge to prove a point to her that he wasn’t just some vanilla middle aged man who only could do this, and who could only do that, when it came to the bedroom. 


But he has a hunch she already knows that. Because she knows exactly what to say to him to get him going. To get him to the place where he can speak freely. However, she seems to itch for a little more every time they do this. An escalation he’s definitely not against. 


He wonders if maybe it’s her that needs egging on. 


Elliot leans down, where he begins to place soft kisses along her lower abdomen. 


“Tell me how you’re gonna …” Olivia hums as his mouth trails down the inside of her thighs. “Tell me how you’re gonna …” She loses her train of thought when he places an open mouthed kiss just over her clit — where he’d been only a couple hours before. She’s still pink, all around. The soft folds of her heat to the creases between her lips and thighs. She’s wet. Very wet. 


“Did you get like this just from sucking my cock?” Elliot asks, dragging his tongue out to taste her. 


“I ….” Olivia nods. 


“Oh baby …” Elliot shakes his head. 


It’s almost comical, their back and forth. The way it could go from her saying things to him that could — quite frankly, make him come just from words alone. To the way he took control of the situation and made her ache and thrust her hips upwards, like she was now. 


“Vanilla.” Olivia moans. 


“I hate that fucking word.” Elliot laughs. 


“I hate when you call me baby.” Olivia whimpers when she feels his mouth latch onto one of her breasts. 


“Mm …” He sucks, leaving her with a soft plop. “I think you like it, actually.” 


“Hm?” She asks, eyes closed. 


“Yeah, you like it.” Elliot moves up to her neck. 


Olivia hates that she loves how he kisses her all over right before they’re about to … 


“Fuck. Just … stop playing.” Olivia husks. 


“You like it, because when I’m buried deep inside you.” Elliot positions himself at her entrance. He pushes in. “Just like this … and when I ...” 


She whimpers. 


“When I call you baby … I can feel you tighten around me. You love it.” Elliot nods, his face hovering above hers. 


She looks up at him with half closed eyes, her chest rising and falling so quickly for a moment she thinks she might pass out. 


“How’s that?” Elliot asks, giving a slight push forward. 


She moans. 


“Could be better.” She lies. 


Elliot laughs at her. He can’t help it — again, said to any other man and maybe their ego would get so bruised they’d go soft from her words alone. But it’s the opposite with him. With her. He knows she’s full of shit and has been since the night he did her so hard she couldn’t even form a complete word. Va—nilla. 


Elliot reaches and pulls her legs around his hips firmly before he begins to rock into her in deep motions. 


“How’s that?” Elliot asks again, knowing the answer. 


“Could be … better.” Olivia groans, arching into him. 


“Huh …” Elliot speeds up, bringing his knees up so he can actually thrust. So he does. Hard. Without abandon. “And that?” He groans. 


“Fuck …” 


“That’s what I thought, baby.” Elliot reaches for her hands and pins them above her head. 


“Vanilla.” Olivia pants up through parted lips at him. 


Her little way of saying ‘harder’ was really starting to get to him in the best way possible. He leaps inside her. 


Elliot leans forward so his mouth is against her ear. 


“Chocolate, baby. Mm, fuck, you feel so good.” Elliot thrusts into her. Judging by the soft whimpers, which are growing into fuller sounds with every thrust, she’s feeling pretty good too. “Your mouth felt so good … but this?” Elliot pounds into her. “No, nothing compares to this.”


Olivia’s arms fling around his neck, her ankles locking around his waist. One of Elliot’s hands leaves hers and slides down between their bodies, where he begins to rub her clit in between his two fingers in a V motion. 


She cries out. 


“That’s good isn’t it, baby? Just say it …” Elliot breathes out heavily against her. “Tell me how good it is.” He adds, breathlessly. 


But she’s gone. Far gone. Her face is turned away from him, eyes rolling into the back of her head. Elliot stops long enough to reach his hand up from between their bodies and grip her face in his hands — her cheeks. He gently turns her head to look at him.


“Eyes wide open.” Elliot huffs down at her, still moving into her recklessly. 


Olivia opens her eyes, mouth wide open. 


“Good girl.” Elliot groans, bringing his hand from her face and falling down to her side, close enough to her ass to haul off and give the skin there a smack, the sound filling the room — lost somewhere in between the sound of their bodies slapping together and their moans. He rubs over her red skin with his hand. 


Olivia yelps from his hand, feeling the vibration of the smack course through her, which only intensifies the pleasure.


“Elliot!” She whimpers, drawing her legs into her stomach. 


“Good … so good ….” Olivia pants heavily, hands reaching up to grip his shoulders. She digs her nails in — hard. 


He would have to explain that for sure. She’s left marks. 


“Come for me, baby.” Elliot whispers against her lips, on the verge of letting go himself. 


“Oh, God. I’m — I’m so close.” Olivia whimpers. 


Their eyes lock and just like before, their first time together, he sees something swirling around in those eyes of hers. 


“Come. Just come.” Elliot breathes out heavily, thrusting into her with all he has. 


So she does. Her hips buck off the bed, up into him. She cries out his name, hoarsely. He loves that. When she says his name in the height of passion. Feeling her come around him, milking him, is enough to make him come right along with her. His hips jerk forward and hold in place as pleasure courses from all the way around his hips, going forward. He empties into the condom with one final thrust forward and falls against her — trying his best to support his own weight. 


They lie there like that, completely breathless. 


“Chocolate.” She smiles against his lips before kissing him.

. . . . . 


Elliot lays across the bed with the TV on mute. The shower runs from the adjoining bathroom. As far as she knows, he’s been lying there watching MASH reruns. 


But he’s been listening to her for the past five minutes, just out of pure amusement. His blue eyes corner around at the closed bathroom door. 


“You keep on tellin’ me I ain’t your kind of man …” Olivia sings … horribly. “Ain’t I rough enough? Woo!!! Ain’t I tough enough?” She adds — clearly shampoo is in her ears because she doesn’t know how loud she’s being. 


Elliot grins from ear to ear. As he lays there listening to her little in-shower concert, an idea graces his mind. 


An idea that could either end this or start something else.


. . . . . 

Olivia comes through her apartment door later that night. Keys in hand. She shuts the door behind her and reaches for the light switch to her apartment, flipping it on. It’s late. In the middle of the night to be exact. 


She makes her way through her apartment. It’s small and nothing fancy, but it’s clear a woman lives there. The decorations are feminine. It’s clean. She drops her keys on the end table and takes a deep breath, looking around at the empty apartment. 


Olivia slides her leather jacket off her shoulders. But when she does, something falls from the pocket and onto her hardwood floor. She scowls down at the folded white piece of paper, seeing what appears to be a smiley face on the front. 


That’s not hers. She didn’t put that there.


Olivia kneels to pick up the paper. She unfolds it once to see … 




On the front. 


Then … 


. . . Please?  :’(


Below it.


Olivia cracks a soft smile because she knows immediately it’s from him. Probably some dirty ass line inside for her to harp on until the next time they meet up. 


Olivia opens the letter, brown eyes begin to wander line by line … 



Her expression falls. 


You may not read all of this. I understand if you don’t. But I’ve been thinking … yeah, I know you said I do too much of that. But I’ve been thinking about our arrangement. I’m not even really sure how it started. I didn’t go out that night looking for you. But when I think back to that night, our first night, it makes me think that we deserve to know more about each other. I know you said you don’t want to know … and I may be wrong, but I feel like that’s not true. 


Is it possible that you might want to know a little about me? I think it is because you asked about Kathy. Maybe it would be easier for you, for us both, if we talk like this for a while. If you want. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I want to make you feel like someone is listening to you. Like someone wants to know about you. Maybe that makes me “ vanilla” but … I hope you will write back. We don’t have to mention the letters, ever, if you don’t want to. 


I don’t know. Maybe this is a dumb idea? I just hope you don’t shut me out. I think we have fun with each other and I’d hate to sabotage that. 


I’ll start first. 


My name is Elliot Joseph Stabler. I have a wife and four kids. You’re right. I do have meatloaf way more often than I should. I actually hate meatloaf, but I don’t want my wife to feel like I’m complaining about what she makes because I know she works hard to take care of our kids.

Olivia drops the letter to her side for a moment, taking a deep breath. She places her hand over her chest and rubs there as she contemplates whether or not she’s going to continue to read. She sits down on her couch, and raises the letter back up once more. She realizes he must have written this while she was in the shower. 

But at night, when I’m lying there next to her — especially lately, I think about how empty it feels. We got married right after we found out she was pregnant. At the time, it didn’t seem like there was any other choice but that. I’m catholic … which you know, I think. Do you? I don’t know what happened after that. Kid after kid came. I love them. But sometimes I feel like time really got away from me. 


But I can’t help but feel like you’ve slowed time down a little bit. When I’m with you, two hours feel like six. 


Too much? I know this probably comes across as rambly but I didn’t have a lot of time. 


I hope you write back. 


— Elliot 

Olivia closes the letter, still holding it in her hand as she stares off into nothing. There’s tears in her eyes. 


Not because she hates the letter, or the gesture he’s made. 


But because she’s just officially met the person she’s been sleeping with for the past three weeks. 

Chapter Text

“That’s not what I said, what I said was —hey!” Olivia giggles, squirming away from Elliot as he kisses his way back up her nude body. 


“I heard what you said. I’m saying, you talk too much.” Elliot smirks. 


Olivia growls at him, playfully trying to push him off. He attacks her stomach with kisses. She manages to roll over on her stomach and bury her face in the pillow. The bed is a mess. They’ve been there for a couple of hours. 


“Ha.” She says, her voice muffled in the pillow. 


Elliot smirks down at her. He reaches forward and moves her short hair away from her left ear, then moves his lips right behind it, just towards the back of her neck. 


He remembers her being ticklish there. 


He begins to kiss the area. 


Olivia tenses and begins giggling into the pillow, squirming away. 


“Fucked around and fucked yourself,” Elliot tickles her, his mouth giving peck after peck.


“Stoooop!” Olivia laughs into the pillow. “I can’t breathe!”


Elliot immediately stops and rolls off her, a satisfied smirk on his lips as he watches her red face reemerge from the pillow and a clunk of hair fall down into it. She blows it out of the way. 


“You’re an ass.” 


“Your favorite ass.”


“Eh, you’re alright.” Olivia sits up on her knees, searching the bed for her blouse. 


“I’m better than alright, we talked about this.” Elliot states, moving so his back resting against the headboard. 


“You talked about it, I just agreed in the middle of sex.” Olivia shrugs, a grin on her lips. 


Elliot feigns a gasp. 


“You’re good — I told you. But you could use some … molding …” Olivia trails off, finding her blouse and slipping it on. She begins to button it. 


“Molding?” Elliot laughs. “Liv, I don’t think I’ve failed you yet.” He adds in a joking manner. 


“You act like you’re going to break me.” Olivia shrugs, her expression twisting into seriousness. 




“Liv, we …” Elliot trails off, blue eyes cornering at her. “We already have pretty rough—“


Olivia leans forward and presses her lips against his to silence him. 


“Vanilla.” Olivia winks. 


Elliot rolls his eyes. 


Olivia crawls out of bed and begins searching for her pants. 


“Do you have to go right now?” Elliot asks, head tilted downwards as he watches her go about the room — collecting her belongings. 


“Yeah, duty calls.” Olivia says, picking up her pants and putting one leg in at a time. 


“When can I see you again?” Elliot asks, climbing out of bed and walking up behind her. He wraps both arms around her and nuzzles his mouth into the crook of her neck.


She smirks. 


“I’ll call you. Remember … don’t—“


“Pick up. I know. Let it ring three times.” Elliot sighs. 


“I mean, unless you want … people … figuring out what you’re doing.” Olivia shrugs. 


“No.” Elliot replies quietly, kissing along her jawline. He makes his way back to her ticklish spot. 


“Okay!” Olivia laughs, pulling away from him. 


Truthfully, he just likes to do it to hear her laugh. 


“How long do you think it’ll be?” Elliot asks, making his way back over to the bed. 


“Mm, I don’t know. Depends on when I can get away.” Olivia states. 


Olivia looks over to see him practically giving her puppy dog eyes. 


“God, Elliot.” She laughs, slipping her socks on. Then her shoes. “You’re very obvious, you know that?” She adds, smirking. 




“Yeah.” She says quietly. 


“About?” Elliot asks. 


Olivia shrugs. 




“Okay. I think I have everything.” Olivia says, straightening her hair out the best she can with her hands. She picks up her leather jacket that hangs over the chair and fishes into the pocket of it. 


Elliot doesn’t pay attention at first, but when he hears the sound of paper crinkling, his head shoots up and sees her lay it on the television stand. It’s an envelope. 


Olivia doesn’t look at him, not once. She reaches for the doorknob and leaves the motel room without another word. 


Elliot’s eyes, fixated on the envelope, go back and forth between the door and the white paper. When he sees her pass by the window of the motel room, he stands up and goes straight for the envelope. He picks it up and carries it back over to the bed, where he pulls the flap open and reaches inside. Out comes a piece of yellow lined paper. It came from a legal pad. He wonders if she wrote it at work. 


Elliot unfolds the paper and begins to read …. 



I’m going to be honest. At first, I wasn’t going to respond. It seemed cheesy and like way too much work. 


Elliot drops the letter for a moment, an unamused look on his face. He picks it back up and continues to read. 


But, maybe you’re right. Maybe I do want to know more about you. I guess it is a little strange to do what we’re doing and not really know anything about each other. I realize this is kind of beyond a one night stand at this point … I’m not really sure what to call it. Maybe basic things for now … like you talked about in your letter. Then we can ease into the rest. Or we can stop at any time … right? Because I need to be able to stop if I don’t want to continue anymore without you getting upset. 


Well, Elliot Joseph Stabler. My name is Olivia Margaret Benson. I knew I wanted to be a cop since I was a teenager. I won’t go into what inspired that … I’m not ready and I’m not sure you really want to know. You might see me a little differently. I love my job. It’s a lot of work and it can be … hard. But I don’t know what I’d be without it. 


I live alone. There’s no boyfriend … which you probably already had a hunch. Taken women don’t really go to bars by themselves, do they? The empty feeling. I know what that is. Sometimes I love living alone because I can come home and not have to talk about my day. Other times, I come home and wish I had someone to tell me that the world isn’t such a dark place. It’s lonely, I’ll admit. But I can’t imagine what it feels like to lay down next to someone and feel like you’re laying down to nothing. I’m sorry about that.


I haven’t really told you a whole lot about me, have I? You already know I’m a cop. So that’s nothing really new. So I guess I’ll start with the basics. 


I’m a dog person. I don’t have a dog, but I like them. Cats are okay, but I’m afraid they’ll drag dead things in and I can’t stand the thought of that. I like Chinese food and I have it at least once a week. I like to watch crappy movies just so I can make fun of them. I don’t really have a favorite color, but I guess pink is nice. I hate when people separate their newspapers while reading them — they’re meant to fold into sections so they should just do that.


Elliot lets out a laugh. 


I don’t know what else to tell. 


I think you’re a really nice guy, Elliot. I don’t want you getting all caught up but I can see that you are. Part of me wishes you would just leave this alone and another part of me … I don’t know. 


Oh … and my favorite flavor of ice cream is vanilla. 



Elliot’s expression drops for a moment, then slowly a huge smile grows on his lips. 


He rereads the letter again …. And again, and again. 


Before he knows it, he’s sitting there another hour, just reading her words. 

Chapter Text

Elliot sits on the bed of the motel, waiting patiently. He wears his uniform, his car keys dangling in between his legs — occasionally hitting the fabric of his black pants. She’s late. 


She told him to be here by 10, but she’s late. 


Just as he gets up to look out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, he sees the door swing open out of the corner of his eyes. Somewhat startled, he moves to face her fully. 


The first thing he notices is that she looks like she’s been crying. Brown eyes are red, puffy underneath. The whites of her eyes are bloodshot. Elliot takes a step forward, reaching for her — but she immediately moves away. 


“What’s wrong?” Elliot asks. 


I almost didn’t come — maybe I shouldn’t have, she wants to say. But she says nothing. 


She’s already stripping though. Olivia starts with the blazer jacket she’s wearing — tosses it over the chair. She pulls at the hem of her gray t-shirt and yanks it off, tossing it somewhere on the floor and revealing the black bra that sits underneath it, pushing her breasts up. 


Elliot looks her up and down. 


“I don’t want to talk at all tonight.” Olivia shakes her head. This time, she reaches for Elliot and pulls her to him. Their bodies collide, and Olivia goes straight in for a kiss. 


Elliot, still confused, struggles to return the gesture. 


‘Wait …” Kiss. “Hold on …” Kiss. 


Olivia pulls back and stares up at him. 


“What’s wrong?” Elliot asks. “Tell me.” He adds, reaching up to stroke her face but she moves away from him. 


Silence. He can see tears brimming her eyes. She reaches and rubs at the back of her neck with her hand. 


“Liv …” 


“I just …” Olivia takes a deep breath. “I just want you, okay? That’s all I want tonight. I don’t want to think about work or … or anything else. I just want you.” Olivia breathes out heavily. 


Elliot narrows his eyes at her, his expression somewhat relaxing. 


“Okay.” Elliot’s voice softens. He moves to her and runs his fingers over her waist, slowly — until his arms are all the way around her. Until their chests are pressed together. 


“What do you want tonight, baby?” Elliot asks, pressing his mouth to her ear.


She hasn’t stopped him from calling her that past couple times they’ve been together. He wonders, if after all, she does enjoy it. 


Elliot feels her nuzzle her face into the crook of his neck. For a moment, he thinks her cheeks feel wet. But he doesn’t ask. If she wants to cry where she can’t be seen, he won’t stop her. 


Then, she catches him by surprise. 


Olivia completely relaxes against him in a way that she never has before. Her arms swing around his neck and the moment Elliot feels her begin to shake against him, he only holds her tighter. He’s not sure what’s gone on that day for her, and he knows she won’t tell. But he’s determined to make it better in any way he possibly can. 


As they stand there together, embracing — headlights from passing cars flash through the window on them. One after the other. They illuminate the room in ways that the small little lamp in the corner couldn’t. The bed, with its old fashioned bedding. The walls, covered in an eggshell color. A television that, upon Elliot’s further inspection, doesn’t work correctly. 


But those details don’t matter. All they need is somewhere to lay together. Because to lay together is to be together. 

You should be gone beast

Be gone from me

Be gone from my mind at least

Let a little lady be

I don't want you to want me

Wouldn't want you to know

I don't care where you've gone beast

I care where you go

Olivia pulls away from him, just enough so Elliot can see her face. She’s been crying, even now. Tears stream down her cheeks. She doesn’t look at him. Maybe from embarrassment or an act of shyness. He’s not sure. Elliot moves his hand from her waist and trails up her arm — eventually coming to rest on the side of her face. He expects her to flinch, to move away. Yet she doesn’t. Instead, brown eyes corner around to meet his blue ones. They lock on one another as his thumb wipes a tear away.


“You know what I want.” Olivia whispers, the very end of her eyebrow twitching up. 


Yes, yes he does. He’s learned her quickly — this stranger. 


“I do.” Elliot sighs out, chest rising and falling with one deep, urgent breath. 




Olivia moves her face just enough so that his thumb is close to her bottom lip. Elliot traces the corner of her lip slowly, sinking it further and further in until his thumb is resting inside the corner of her mouth. He brings it out, rubbing along the softness of her bottom lip until there’s a soft ball there from drawing the pink flesh in its position. 


“Are you gonna give it to me?” Olivia asks. The words, more seductive than they come out, ignites something inside him. 


“I think I’d give you anything you want, anytime.” Elliot replies, his voice in a whisper. 


He can see her shiver — the light from the bedside lamp casts onto the goosebumps that rests on her skin. The side of her arm. 


“Good.” Olivia replies, tears still streaming down her face. 


“What if I wanted to give you what you need instead?” Elliot asks, blue eyes gazing at her with such intensity that for a moment she wants to go hide in the corner — tuck her face into her knees and not look at anyone else ever again. 

Take the night off

And be bad for me

Take it right off

And be bad for me

You're a night bird

Early riser

You have a kind of wing

To take her and surprise her

I didn't understand where you had gone

Didn't know you'd be right back

I didn't hear the night song

Calling for you into the black

Olivia’s lips curl into a slight smile. There’s a taunting look that grows in her eyes, seemingly as they dry up. 


“And how would you even know what I need, Mr. Stabler?” Olivia asks, her hands already extended forward as she works on the buttons of his shirt. 


“I can tell.” 


“That’s all I get?” Her voice is whispery, low. “I can tell?” Olivia asks, mimicking him. 


“I feel like I know you.” Elliot responds, his tone just as low. 


“Vanilla.” Olivia husks, brown eyes flickering up and down his face. 


Elliot smiles widely at her word choice, because now he knows, thanks to her letter — that’s her favorite. 


“Vanilla.” Elliot repeats back, pulling his work shirt off. He tosses it to the ground, revealing his white tank. She reaches for the hem of the ribbed material, helping him pull it up over his head. 


Olivia’s smile widens until she’s showing off white, perfect teeth. She reaches for her own pants, unzipping them and shoving them down off her hips until they’re in a pile around her ankles. She steps out of them, along with her shoes — in one go. She uses Elliot’s arm to brace herself as she does so. 


Olivia steps forward and cups him through the fabric of his pants. Elliot lets out a little grunt and gives a slight jolt into her hand. 


“Oh …” Olivia smirks, one hand coming to rest on the back of his neck. Their lips are mere inches from each other. “I think I might know what you need too, look at that.” She teases. 


“Is that so?” Elliot laughs, flashing the same perfectly white teeth back at her. 


“Yeah.” Olivia replies, her voice hoarse. 


“Tell me.” 


“You tell me first.” Olivia whispers, leaning in and kissing him once on the lips softly. 


She was going to be the death of him, he decides — right there in that moment. 


“Mm … need to be inside you.” Elliot groans as he feels her rub up and down his front. 


“Inside of what?” Olivia asks, eyebrow arched. 


Elliot opens his eyes all the way and the moment he sees the devilish expression on her face, that’s all it takes to ignite the version of himself he needs to be in order to please her. 


Elliot gives her a slight push onto the bed and she falls back with a chuckle. He begins working on his belt, pulling it through the loop quickly until it’s flared on either side. Just as open as her legs are for him when she pulls her underwear down and flings them. 


“No games tonight.” Olivia whispers. “Just fuck me.” 


Elliot raises an eyebrow at her. He pushes his pants and briefs down in one go — his erection springing free. 


It amazes Elliot how he was so close being able to make love to her, but yet she had still managed to get what she wanted anyways. She knew how to push his buttons already, while he was still figuring out where hers were. 


“Is that what you want?” Elliot asks. “Or what you need?” He adds breathlessly, crawling onto the bed — one knee at a time.


“Both.” Olivia replies. 


Elliot pushes her legs open and crawls in between them. His hand immediately trails down her stomach until his fingers are teasing her opening. He dips them inside her, one at a time. She’s already wet — so wet that when he brings his fingers from her depths, they’re coated and full of her. Olivia whimpers, drawing her back into an arch.


“You like that, I know baby.” Elliot huffs out. She looks down at him, watching as he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean. 


She moans. 


“And that.” Elliot laughs, crawling up so he can kiss her lips. Once their lips connect, she can feel him positioning himself at her entrance. He rocks himself into her, inch by inch. 


Olivia cries out into his mouth, hands coming up to rest on his shoulders. She parts her legs further for him, drawing them into her stomach — until her feet dangle at each of his ribs. As soon as Elliot begins to thrust into her, their lips — their tongues, break apart. She whimpers as he steadies himself at such a pace even her own hips can’t keep up with. 


“Elliot!” Tumbles from her mouth. She can still taste his lips on hers. She can still taste herself on her own tongue, since he had been so greedy enough to taste her heat moments before. 


“You’re so wet.” Elliot moves his mouth to her ear as he pounds into her. “Were you like that in the car, baby? When you drove to me?” Slap. “I bet you were just throbbing … thinking about.” Slap. “All the things I was going to do. About this very moment.” Slap. “Right? Tell me yes.” Slap. 


“Yes.” Olivia immediately replies. Stubbornness? There’s no room for that this time. 


It dawns on him at that moment that this is the first time they haven’t worn anything protection wise. They had been so caught up in their little … exchange, that neither of them had even thought about it. As he moves in and out of her, he takes note of how every inch of her feels without any barrier. How she slides against the skin of his hard shaft so effortlessly that for a moment he thinks that alone may make him come. But he wants to last for her. He always does. 


“How’s it feel, baby? Having me buried deep … bare, inside you?” Elliot asks, his voice raspy against her face. 


“G-good.” She bucks her hips against his. 


“You feel amazing.” Elliot breathes out. “So fucking good. I want you to come for me.” Elliot circles his hips into her, his lower stomach hitting her clit in just the right way. 


“Oh, I want to.” Olivia whimpers, her fingers digging into his shoulder. 


“I’m gonna let you. Maybe.” Elliot huffs down at her with a smirk, hips thrusting back and forwards quickly. 


That gets a rise out of her, causing her to turn her head and look at him, wide eyed. 


“Make me come.” Olivia pants. 


Elliot smirks down at her. 


That’s not good enough. 


“Please?” Olivia whimpers. 


Elliot’s lips fall to her ear yet again. 


“Ask again.” His breath is hot. 


“Please make me come?” Olivia says straight away, desperation riddled in her voice. 


Elliot moves his hand to her bra strap, where he pulls it down. She slides her arm out of it and he frees one of her breast by pulling the bra down below it. His mouth goes straight for it, latching onto the hard peak that’s there — ready for him. 


“Mmm!” Olivia moans.


Elliot knows he’s losing her in the best way possible. Once those little incoherent sounds begin to tumble from her lips in the senseless way that they do — perhaps his favorite part of all of this, he knows she’s close. 


He feels her begin to flutter around him. 


“I … Elliot … the …” 


She’s gone. Elliot’s mouth leaves her breast — he replaces it with his hand, his thumb and index finger twisting her nipple between them. He lets out a laugh against her ear as his hips circle her. 


“God, so good …” Elliot moans. “Come for me baby. Come.” 


She’s getting tighter — milking against his bare length. He’s gonna come, maybe before her and when he goes to pull out, so he can finish, she stops him. Her hand comes to rest on his lower back, holding him in place. 


“I’m not wearing—“


“I don’t care.” Olivia pants. “Don’t leave.” 




Elliot stops for a moment, contemplating whether or not it’s a good idea. 


“I’m-I’m good.” Olivia says, her sentences still a little senseless but he knows she’s telling him she’s on the pill. 


Without a second thought, he trusts her. He begins moving into her again — his expression contorting as he begins to release. 


“Ah, Fuck …” He can feel himself spit once, twice … then he releases all together into her depths. 


“OH!” Olivia moans, bucking her hips at the sudden warmth that fills her. 


“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Elliot hangs his head, his hips still thrusting little jolts forward as he finishes.


Olivia relaxes, her hips still working in soft circles. She hasn’t come yet — he knows this. But the way her hands move up and down his back to comfort him after he’s come makes something in his chest turn over for her. 


Elliot leans up to look her in the eyes. They’re dark and wild. Maybe just like her, underneath her everyday persona. 


Elliot collects himself as quickly as he can. He imagines in that moment that he has that same wild look in his eye that she does. He leans forward once more to kiss her before gently pulling himself from her. When he does, his eyes cast down to see a white string of what he’s given her come falling out, attached to him. She’s already leaking before he can even crawl fully onto his stomach.


“Elliot …” Olivia whimpers, “I …” 


“Sssh …” Elliot’s blue eyes cast up at her as his mouth kisses the inside of her thighs. Just for a moment. He knows what she needs right now isn’t to be teased. She needs to come. 


So he’s going to give that to her. 


His mouth buries in between her folds, tongue on clit — lips suckling against the skin there. 


“Fuck …” Olivia’s hands fly down to the back of his head. 


“Mmm…” Elliot hums against her. 


There’s something that’s absolutely feral about this moment. The fact that his mouth is on her just moments after he’s filled her of himself. 


“El … Elliot! Elliot!” Falls from her lips as she begins to come. Her thighs shake, toes gripping into the quilt. “I’m com— uuuhh!“


And she’s gone again. Just like that. Elliot pulls back, aiming to watch her come fully. His fingers replace his mouth, where he works in quick, vigorous circles against her clit. Blue eyes drift down, watching as she pulsates — causing a bit of the white, thickness he’s left behind for her to push out suddenly. 


Olivia’s hips buck off the bed as she finishes. 


“That’s my girl …” Elliot kisses up the inside of her thigh, his fingers leaving her in the process. His lips trail up her body. Her stomach. What’s exposed of her breasts, still hanging from one side of her bra. Until he reaches underneath her jawline. “That’s my girl.” Elliot repeats, his voice low. 


Her eyes are shut tight, but she smiles when he kisses underneath her jaw. Her chin. 


“Vanilla.” Olivia whispers. She’s hoarse.


“Mhm, vanilla, baby.” Elliot grins, his lips finding hers.


She hums against them, kissing him back. 


Vanilla, baby.” She whispers against his mouth.

Didn't ask you to save me

Not when you knew me well

Wouldn't ask you even to behave for me

I know there's no help in hell

Take the night off

And be bad for me

Take it right off

And be bad for me

. . . . . . .

Olivia lays there on her stomach, turned away from him. Elliot faces her, his finger circling the skin of her bare back. She’s not asleep, but half of her face remains buried in one of the pillows — a chunk of hair has fallen into the exposed part of her face. She’s worn out.


Hell, he’s worn out. 


“Tell me what happened.” Elliot whispers, leaning down and kissing the spot in between her shoulder blades. 




“I’m too tired.” Olivia says, which is partly true. 




“Sleep.” Elliot suggests. “I’ll wake you up in a couple of hours.” He adds. 


“You promise?” Olivia’s voice is low, barely audible. 


“Promise.” Elliot replies, his fingers still dancing up and down her back in bare touches. It’s putting her to sleep. 


“I like that.” Olivia whispers, referring to his hand. How he’s touching her. 


Suddenly, he can hear a sound coming from her. He hasn’t heard it before. But his brows furrow as she begins to hum. It’s so soft that for a moment, he doesn’t know if he actually hears it or if it’s just some sound coming from outside, disguised as a song. 


But she’s definitely humming. He doesn’t know what it is. But he listens to it anyways, his fingers still trailing up and down her back. 


“What is that?” Elliot asks, referring to whatever it is she’s humming. 


Nothing … then, 


Soft snores. 


Something in his chest tightens. It’s a nice feeling and he imagines it's the type of feeling someone gets when they look at death as a sweet release rather than a tragedy. 


Elliot lies there for a while, simply watching her back rise and fall as she sleeps. That’s what puts him to sleep. The very sight of her resting. 


She’s bothered. That’s the best way he knows how to describe it. Elliot Stabler doesn’t quite know what kind of beast lives inside her. But it’s a bothered one. He wants to ask her, and maybe he will — someday, in their letters. 


What bothers you?


What bothers you?


What bothers you? 


And maybe she’ll answer him. 


Or maybe she’ll tell him she’s too tired.

. . . . . . . .

The morning sun blares through the window of the motel room. It’s bright. Warm against her face. She’s turned over in her sleep and has been sweating. She can tell she has, because when she lifts her face up from his chest — there’s a slight stick. 


Olivia’s face is scrunched, brown eyes barely open as they adjust to the light in the room. She looks up at Elliot, who is fast asleep beneath her. 


Her eyes go wide. 



Chapter Text

“Elliot!” Olivia yells, causing him to jolt awake. 


“What?!” Elliot asks, eyes all wonky. 


Olivia slowly crawls down the bed, untangling herself from sheets in the process. Elliot sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. The palm of his hand flies to his face and he holds it there for a moment, rubbing at his still sleepy eyes. 


“I can’t believe you fell asleep. I can’t believe you fucking fell asleep!” Olivia huffs, finally breaking loose of the bedsheets that seemed to have gripped her at the ankles, begging her to stay. 


“I heard you the first time.” Elliot says, his voice raspy as he still wakes up. He looks over at the clock on the bedside table. 


8:34 am. 


“Liv …” Elliot calls out. She’s in the bathroom, adjusting the water to the shower. “Liv ….” Elliot stands up and makes his way into the bathroom, ass naked. They’re past shyness at this point. 


Olivia is leaned over the tub, adjusting the water from the main spout before she turns the shower itself on. 


“Don’t talk to me.” She grumbles. She pulls the shower knob.


“It’s Saturday.” Elliot states. 


“Yeah, Elliot. I work on Saturday. Don’t you?” Her voice is laced with sarcasm. 


“Not usually. I asked for the weekends off for my—“ He stops himself. 


Olivia spins around, brown eyes locking with his. The sun is so bright, even in the tiny little motel bathroom, it pours in. 


“For what? Your kids?” Olivia asks, arching a brow. 


The last time he saw her in broad daylight, she was at Riker’s. But here she stands, in nothing but a bra that’s not even on her correctly. One strap hangs underneath her armpit. Cleavage falls more heavily from the side he had access to last night. Her hair is a mess, particularly in the back. Her makeup is somewhat smeared. Maybe from crying or sleeping. Or both. But he sees her. Fully, as she is, in that moment. 


Elliot’s lips curl into a soft smile as he leans against the doorframe. 


She scrunches her nose at him. 


“Stop looking at me like that.” Olivia stares at him. 


“Too late.” Elliot whispers. 


“Fuck you.” She pulls the bra off. 


“Fuck me.” Elliot smiles, dumbly. “Are you always this aggressive in the morning?” 


“Yes.” Olivia huffs. 


Elliot has to stop himself from laughing. When she climbs into the shower and pulls the glass door, he takes a step forward so he’s closer to it. 


“It’ll be fine, Liv. I’ll tell her I was out with Tobias and he let me crash on his couch because … I was too drunk to come home.” Elliot states, running his fingers over the top of his head. 




“Is that all you do? Sit and think up lies?” She asks, from the other side of the shower door. 


Elliot pulls the door to see her scrubbing at her body, lathered into a soapy pillow. He looks her up and down for a moment.


“No. Sometimes I sit and think up the truth.” Elliot replies playfully, blue eyes narrowed into slits. 




“You’re getting water all over the floor.” Her voice softens, brown eyes cast down. 


Elliot, perhaps taking that as an invitation, steps one foot over the base of the tub and into the shower with her. She moves aside for him, making room. He pulls the shower door closed. As soon as his hand leaves the handle, he reaches for her. 


Olivia wraps both arms around him, hands slowly sliding down his back. Their lips meet and he begins to kiss her. She returns the gesture in soft little pecks. There’s nothing hurried about it, though they should be in a hurry. 


Elliot kisses her in a way that maybe he never has before. His hands move to cup her cheeks and he kisses her like he’s just kissing her. Not like he’s kissing her before they have sex. Not like he does after they’ve made each other come. He’s just kissing her and she’s letting him. 


Her lips are still swollen from last night. Bitten in one spot — a habit he’s been trying to get out of but sometimes they’re so into the moment, teeth and anything else that happen to be in the way are ghosts. Nonexistent problems, just something in the way and not felt when they nip and graze. 


Maybe that’s what his wife is at this point. A ghost. A nonexistent problem that should keep him away from her but doesn’t, like silly little things such as teeth. He does, however, wonder how long it’ll be before Kathy bites — realizes what’s going on. If she ever does. 


Olivia nuzzles her face into his hands. Her hands, which previously rested on his back, snake down dangerously low to his waist. When one hand moves around to his front and he feels her fingers wrap around his length, he lets out a little sound against her lips. 


“Liv …” 


“Olivia.” She corrects, with a smile. 


Elliot smiles. 


“I’m gonna call you Liv.” Kiss. “And baby.” Kiss. “Because I think you may like it.” 


“You think?” Olivia asks, becoming breathless after each kiss. 


“I know. I think I know you.” Elliot nods. 


Silence. The water streams down heavily on them, pitter pattering against the floor of the tub. The room is steamy, hot with either the temperature of the water or them. Their common sense is clouded, lost somewhere in the fog of the room. That seems to be the case between them anyways. Always.


“I think you think you know the version of me that you want me to be.” Olivia replies. 


Elliot pulls away so he can see her face. 


“What does that even mean?” Elliot lets out a chuckle, tilting his head at her. Her fingers are still wrapped around him, which is making it hard to think. Actually, she’s just making it hard in general. 


“It means what it means.” Olivia shrugs as she begins to stroke him, up and down. 


“Fuck …” Elliot closes his eyes, exhaling deeply. 


“Huh?” Olivia teases, feeling him harden in the palm of her hand by the second. 


Elliot slaps her hand away and picks her up with a quickness — pressing her against the wall. Her legs immediately go around his waist and she braces herself on his shoulders. His lips fall to her neck, her chest. Under her chin. 


“You’re such a kisser.” Olivia breathes out, tilting her head back. 


“What?” Elliot laughs. 


“You’re the most kissing man I’ve ever met.” Olivia giggles, shrugging her shoulders when he moves to that spot behind her ear that’s ticklish. She squirms against him, a broad smile on her face as a breathy laugh escapes her. 


“Is that a bad thing?” Elliot asks, nipping at her jawbone. 


“No.” She replies immediately. “I like it.” 


“She likes it.” 


“I do.” Olivia sings. 


“What else do you like?” Elliot asks, one hand moving from bracing her and running it up the side of her body — his thumb, his fingers, coming into contact with her full breasts. His fingertips dance over the hardened peeks there. 


Olivia releases a full, ample breath. Turns out, she can’t think very straight when he’s touching her either. When she’s with him. 


“Don’t push it, Stabler.” Olivia smiles, their lips mere inches from each other. She leans in and kisses him. 


Elliot smirks against her lips, his hand disappearing between their bodies. He moves his fingers so that they glide up and down her folds, before sinking in just enough to find her clit. 


“Uh …” Olivia throws her head back against the wall of the tub, mouth flying open. 


“Hmm …” Elliot grins, kissing her cheeks. The corner of her mouth. 


They stay like that for a moment. Her legs are locked around his waist. His fingers inside her, teasing and taunting. Their lips kissing any part of each other they can reach.


Before finally, he slips himself inside her. The room fills with their small sounds. Echoing off of each other’s mouths in perfect harmony, like they do. Off the discolored tiles of the wall. He rocks into her gently, allowing her to adjust. 


“Elliot …” Olivia taps against his shoulder, trying to get his attention. 


“Yeah?” He asks. 


“Do you know …” Olivia pants. “How many asses have probably been pressed against this wall?” She asks, snorting into his ear. 


Elliot stops, bursting into laughter. 


“What?!” Elliot asks. 


“How many asses have probably been pressed against this wall. You think we’re the first to fuck in this … sad excuse for a bathtub?” Olivia jokes, pressing her lips together when he pulls back to look at her.


“I’ll take you to a nicer motel next time.” Elliot grins. 


“How romantic.” Olivia snickers as she begins to bounce her hips against him. 


“Fuck …” Elliot grunts. 


“You like that?” Olivia asks. 


It was funny to Elliot, how quickly they could go from making a joke about asses and nicer motels to her asking him if she liked the way she was riding against him. 


Blue eyes lock on brown ones, and he begins meeting her thrusts. 


“You like the way I bounce on your cock?” Olivia presses her mouth to his ear. 


Elliot grips at her skin. If she keeps talking like that he may just embarrass himself. 


“Yeah I do.” He replies breathlessly, working himself in and out of her. 


But she’s going hard. Doing most of the work.


“Liv …” Elliot buries his face in the crook of her neck. She steadies herself on him. 


“Do you wanna come?” Olivia grins. 


It dawns on him what she’s doing. 




From last night, when he asked her the same thing. 


“Do you want to come?” Olivia repeats. 


“Yeah …” Elliot works his hips upwards, which feels like pathetic attempts to meet her thrusts. Not that he couldn’t match her pace. But she seems to have it more than handled. 


“Ask for it.” Olivia pants, ankles locking together. She feels his hands slide under her ass cheeks to help her along. 




“Oh we’re playing the prideful man card now.” She slows down, a grin on her face. 




Olivia grins, picking up her pace again, grinding and jolting against him. 


“Please what?” Olivia asks, breathlessly. A moan escapes her lips when she feels his fingers in between their bodies again, switching between soft and quick circles against her clit. 


“Make me come.” Elliot’s fingers grip against her ass cheeks. 


“I’m going to let you come inside me again. Do you want that?” Olivia asks, mouth pressed so hard to his ear that her lips are pulled slightly against his sideburn. 


He doesn’t say another word. But she feels him — oh does she feel him. Olivia feels him leap, spit — then all at once, he’s emptying inside her for the second time. 


“Fuck … fuck …” Elliot jerks his hips upwards, holding himself there. 


The feeling of him coming, and his fingers, is enough to bring about her climax. She begins to grip and pulse around him, a throbbing sensation coursing through her hips and sex. 


“God!” Olivia gasps, nails digging into his shoulders. Hard. One hand leaves his shoulder and flies to the glass of the shower door. 




He’d have to explain that. Or he could just sleep in a shirt until they faded away enough like he did the last time. Though, those marks were on his back. Not his shoulders. 


When they’re finished, her ankles unlock and she lets her legs fall heavily. He pulls himself from her and she can immediately feel what he’s left behind for her come out — drip down the insides of her thighs and eventually end up on the floor of the tub only to be washed down the drain. 


“You’re …” Elliot pants, bracing both hands on the wall. “Something else.” He adds, face red. 


Olivia laughs and rests her head against the wall. 


“You don’t play fair.” Elliot grins at her. 


“Ain’t life a bitch?” Olivia cackles, moving some of her wet hair from her face. 


“The water is getting cold.” Elliot replies. 


“You get what you pay for.” 

. . . . . . . . . 

They stand outside the motel room door together. They’re on the second level again. They’ve been to this motel twice now. Elliot leans in and presses his lips against hers, because God knows when he’ll see her again. It could be tomorrow night or two weeks from now — he never knows. 


“I have to go.” Olivia whispers against his lips. 


“When?” He asks, referring to when he can see her again. 


It’s funny how he’s the married one, yet he’s asking Olivia when he can see her again. 


“I don’t know. I’ll let you know when I know.” Olivia replies, pulling away from him. Their hands remain intertwined, so when she pulls away — their arms extend as far as they can before they finally release each other. 


Elliot watches their hands separate. He does every time. 


Olivia adjusts her blazer and begins walking away from him — down the aisle of the second story. The sun is out bright today, so he squints his eyes to watch her. 


Olivia turns around once. Looks at him.


He smiles. 


Twice. Looks at him.


His smile broadens. 


When she turns around the third time to look at him, he’s walking towards her rather than letting her walk away. 


Olivia turns around fully and holds her finger up as she comes to the beginning of the stairs that will lead her down to her car. 


“Your pocket.” She says. Just that. 


Elliot’s eyebrows furrow and he reaches into the pocket of his pants. Sure enough, he feels a piece of paper folded there. Elliot pulls the paper from his pocket and when he looks up from it, she’s already at her car — pulling the door open. 


He’s not sure how she managed to slip her letter into his pocket, but she did.


He’ll read it in his car, he decides. 


Before he goes home to a ghost. 

Chapter Text

Elliot’s astonished that she’s written him another letter before he even got the chance to write back. 


It makes something inside him leap knowing that she wants to talk to him this way. That she was so anxious to write to him that she couldn’t wait for him. Elliot’s thumb grazes across the corner of the folded paper as he sits in his car. He’s still parked outside the motel in broad daylight, but he doesn’t care. He wants to read it. Then read it again. 




I know it was your turn …. Sorry. :)


Elliot laughs. Sure she is. 


Tonight wasn’t a good night for me. I haven’t come to see you yet. I’ve wondered if it was even a good idea to come at all because I’ve been upset and I don’t want you to see me like that. But honestly? I think if I come, I’ll feel better. To see you that is. 


He smirks. 


I caught a case last week. A domestic violence survivor. She’s had a tough life. I resonated with her a lot and I think that’s why I got so attached. Her father was an alcoholic, my mother was an alcoholic. I felt like I was really helping by being able to speak from the heart instead of blowing smoke up her ass. 


We got a call at the precinct that her husband hit her a little too hard this time around. She’s probably not going to make it and I feel like it’s my fault because I told her that she should leave him. Leaving an abusive man is like throwing gasoline on a fire. Only makes them angrier, and it’s a battered woman’s greatest fight. 


If I hadn’t told her to leave him, maybe he wouldn’t have been so angry. But another part of me knows I did the right thing because at least she had a chance. Or did I just move her in the way of the inevitable? I don’t know. When I catch cases like this — when I see other people live in chaos, it makes me think about what things were like for me growing up. 


I didn’t have an easy childhood. At all. Who did? I feel like no kid really had a great childhood and if they say otherwise maybe they’re just saying that so they don’t feel so bad about it. Or maybe they lived the fucking dream, who knows? This woman was telling me stories about her father and it felt like someone was repeating my life back to me. The drunken outbursts. Everything being her fault. The verbal abuse in general. 


My mother isn’t a very nice person. She’s better now. Doesn’t drink as often as she used to. But when I was a kid that’s all she did from the time she woke up in the morning until she went to bed at night. She drank at her job. While she drove, often while I was in the car with her. Any place she got the chance to have a drink, she would have it without question. And if I questioned her for it? I might as well just put on my boxing gloves because she was always ready to defend her bottle.


I can’t blame her in some strange way. It was the one thing that she felt like couldn’t be taken away from her. She had her education, sure. But I don’t think that meant as much to her as it once did. My father took something from her, I think, she was never able to get back. Maybe her dignity. Sense of self worth, I’m not sure. I understand in a way why she drank as much as she did. I’m sure it was hard, looking at me every day and seeing the man that raped her staring back. 


Elliot drops the letter for a moment, staring straight ahead. He runs his hand over his face and takes a deep breath before lifting the letter again so he can continue. 


I think she would’ve been a happier person if she wouldn’t have had me. She told me that a few times and you know what they say about drunks … they always tell the truth. The truth.


The truth is, Elliot Joseph Stabler, sometimes I forget that I can’t save everyone. And when I fail, I feel like handing over my badge and gun and calling it a day. Tonight was one of those nights. I wanted this woman to move on like I had and find something else to live for besides a man who didn’t really care about her. I wanted her to have good things in life. Because we deserve them after everything. 


Maybe that is self insertion. I don’t know. I’m not even really sure I’ve moved on from the things I’ve told you about or if I’ve just told myself I have. 


Anyways … your turn, Vanilla boy. 

Elliot folds the letter and sits there for a moment. His eyes are glassy. Stinging. He licks his lips and hangs his head.


He doesn’t know if he can reread this one. 

. . . . . . . . . . . 

“Where in the hell have you been?” Kathy’s voice rings out in the kitchen as Elliot makes his way through the back door. He shuts the door quietly and clears his throat. 


“Tobias and I went after work to get a few drinks. Time got away from us and I forgot to call. I’m sorry.” Elliot states, walking over to where she’s sitting. “I meant to call but …”


Kathy stares up at him from her seat at the kitchen table. She narrows her eyes. 


“I’ve got four kids here, Elliot. Four. I don’t need a fifth.” Kathy says.




Elliot doesn’t say a word. He simply takes a deep breath and makes his way out of the kitchen and up the stairs for a shower. 


Kathy sits there staring off, shaking her head. 

. . . . . . . . . . 

Days pass before he’s able to see her again. He checks into the motel and goes straight to their room. It’s nicer than the ones they’ve had before. All tan bedding. Decent bathroom. Working television. 


Elliot sits on the bed and waits for her, and when she comes through the motel door — she has the biggest smile on her face when she sees him waiting there for her. 


“Hi …” Olivia says, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. 


Elliot scoots from the bed and onto his feet, where he then walks over to her. 


“Hey.” He smiles.


“Traffic was insane.” Olivia sighs, looking to the window. The blinds are drawn. 


Elliot just stares at her. Olivia notices right away and tilts her head.








“Part of me thought you wouldn’t come.” Olivia confesses, her voice barely audible. 


Elliot’s expression, previously unreadable, twists into surprise. The room is so quiet that for a moment he thinks he can hear the couple in the adjoining room arguing over what’s on television. 


“You never have to worry about that with me.” Elliot whispers, reaching out and touching her cheek with his thumb. She nuzzles into it. 


Brown eyes fixate on him for a moment before she moves so that she’s hugging him. Arms wrap around his waist and she lays her head on his chest. Elliot immediately holds onto her. 


“She didn’t make it.” Olivia says, her voice low. 


Elliot reaches and strokes her hair with his fingers, slowly. 


“It wasn’t your fault.” He begins. “None of it.”


Elliot feels her inhale deeply against him. He can feel her hot breath even through his shirt when she exhales. 


“You did what you could for her … and that’s all you can do, Liv.” Elliot moves his fingertips behind her ear, tucking hair there. 


Olivia pulls away just enough so that she can look up at him. And oh does she look at him. Brown eyes are wide and full of tears that don’t fall. 


“You’re soft.” Olivia whispers, her voice cracking softly. 


Elliot grins a little, still touching her face — her hair, anywhere he can reach. 


“Yeah.” Elliot shrugs playfully. 


“Do you just wanna watch TV tonight?” Elliot asks. 


Olivia throws her head back in laughter.


“I’ve never rented a motel room just to watch TV in.” She smiles. 


“Dumb suggestion?” Elliot asks, still grinning. 


Olivia’s eyes flicker over his face, “Hmm …” She shakes her head ‘no’. “Mm-mm.” She adds. 


Elliot’s silly little grin grows into a full on smile, toothy with full cheeks. 


Olivia pulls away from Elliot and removes her jacket — tossing it over the chair. She kicks off her shoes and crawls up to the head of the bed where she pats the space next to her. 


Elliot kicks his shoes off and playfully tosses himself onto the bed. 


And that’s what they do for the next couple of hours. Lay and watch I Love Lucy reruns together. 


Chapter Text

The sun is out, beating down on her face as she makes her way out of the precinct. She’s carrying a stack of folders the size of Texas in her arms, stampeding towards her car with a vengeance. 


As she approaches her car, she sees Elliot standing there, leaning against the trunk. Olivia stops dead in her tracks, a look of confusion on her face. 


“What are you doing here?” She asks right away, eyebrows knitted together. 


“I got off early. Thought I’d come by and see if you wanted to …” Elliot shrugs, a smug grin on his lips. 


“I told you I’d call you.” Olivia states, hoisting her slipping files back up in her arms. 


Elliot’s expression drops. He didn’t think about, actually, until that very moment, that maybe he was overstepping unspoken boundaries by coming to her work again. 


“Do you want me to leave?” Elliot asks, his tone soft. 


The wind blows a piece of hair towards Olivia’s mouth, so she reaches out and moves it away with her middle finger. She’s thinking, and for a moment he’s sure she’s going to tell him to fuck off. 


“No. We … okay.” Olivia can barely finish her sentence before Elliot is making his way towards her to take the files from her arms. 


“Don’t, I got it —“ 


“Let me.” Elliot insists, taking the files from her. She releases them with a soft sigh. Olivia walks over to one of the back doors of the car and opens it, “Just put them in here.” She says, waving her hand towards the backseat. Elliot gently lays them down in the backseat and stands upright. But when he does, his face is mere inches away from hers. His lips curl into a soft smirk. 


“Not here.” Olivia cracks a grin, looking down. 


“Why not?” Elliot asks. “Nobody here knows me …” 


“Only for the bedroom.” Olivia insists. 


Kissing. They’re talking about kissing. And he wants to so badly. 


“One kiss.” Elliot squints his eyes at her. 


“No.” Olivia laughs, still not looking at him. 


“Fine, fine.” Elliot teases and goes to walk away. But as he does, she reaches for his hand and pulls him back to her. She leans up and presses her lips quickly to his before abruptly turning around and opening the driver’s door. “Same place as last time?” Olivia asks, an inquisitive expression on her face. 


Elliot stands there with the goofiest look from the kiss he’s just gotten from her. In public. Outside the hotel room. 


He nods. 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . 

The same sun that cast on Olivia’s face just an hour earlier, beats on the side of Elliot’s as she sits on top of him, rocking against him slowly. They’ve just started, but they’re completely stripped and already joined. It seems to be going that way a lot lately. The urgency to be together like this has overwhelmed both of them in different ways. 


Those ways? Well, he’s got it bad for her. She’s never been more satisfied by a sexual partner before. 


A soft moan escapes Elliot’s lips as he buries his head into the pillow — his hands gripping onto her bare thighs. 


“I like it when you do that.” Olivia grins down at him, a soft whimper passing her lips. 


“What?” Elliot asks, eyes drifting down to watch how she takes him in completely, before lifting herself off of him — revealing how wet his shaft is from her arousal. 


“The little moans.” Olivia says breathlessly, “Fuck …” She tosses her head back, reaching for Elliot’s hands and placing them over her breasts. He massages them into his hand, mouth slightly agape. 


“Most guys … that I’ve been with anyways …” Olivia pants, rocking her hips against him a little harder. “They’re embarrassed to do that. Just let it happen. You know?” Olivia asks. “I think they think …” She stops for a moment, her mouth falling open just as the very tip of him hit’s that spot. “Think it’s more manly to stay quiet. Grunt. Whatever.” Olivia says, coming to a dead stop. She leans down and presses a kiss against his lips before feeling his hips jolt up into hers. 


Elliot simply stares at her when she raises from their kiss. He doesn’t want to even think about her being with another man. She could be fucking another man when she’s not seeing him and he wouldn’t know any better, but the very thought of that alone — of someone else inside of her like this … makes him jealous. 


So jealous that for a moment, it almost kills the mood. But when she gives him the devilish little smirk she does, he arches an eyebrow and begins working his hips upwards against hers. She meets him every time. 


“Shit …” Olivia breathes out, her mouth finding his neck. Their chests rest firmly against one another. “Oh just like that …” She bounces against him. Every time he thrusts upwards he enters her completely. Fully. 


“You feel so good.” Elliot hums into her ear. “Always so fucking good. Come for me. Want to feel you come around my cock.” He huffs, inciting a sexy little laugh from her. 


That’s what he loves. When they’re doing this, and he’ll do or say something that makes her feel good and she laughs. It’s not a mocking laugh, no. It’s an excited laugh. 


Olivia pushes herself back up in an upright position, her hands flat against his chest as she begins to rock so hard against him the bed begins to move. 


“I’m taking you with me.” She smirks down at him, fingers digging into his chest. 


“Sounds like a threat.” Elliot grins up at her, in awe of how she looks right now. On top of him, riding him just as sunset approaches. There’s something about it that captures a very particular kind of feeling. Longing, maybe. Longing for her? But he has her. He does, right? He has her body. 


But maybe he wants more than her body. 

Olivia releases first. She comes to a dead stop, her fingers pressed against her own clit, working vigorously. She lets out a series of soft whimpers as the waves rush over her. He feels her spasm and clutch around him. It’s almost enough to make him come, but … he’s not wearing anything. So he resists, eyes shut tight. 


Olivia gathers herself after a moment, soft pants coming from her lips. She slides off him, a moan leaving them both. He’s completely soaked from her. Olivia leans forward and kisses him on the lips with a satisfied smile on her own. 


“What do you want? My mouth or my hand?” Olivia asks. 


Elliot stares up at her, blue eyes flickering over her face. What he wanted, what he’s wanted since the moment she let him, was to come inside her. But given his number of children, even though she’s on the pill, perhaps that isn’t a good idea. 


Elliot clears his throat and gives her a gentle push onto her back. Olivia arches an eyebrow and watches him as he nudges her legs apart. Wide. 


Elliot’s fingers wrap around himself and he begins stroking himself quickly, aiming directly over her pink, wet heat. 


Oh.” Olivia nearly laughs but stops herself. She brings her legs upwards, spreading them wide for him. “Is that what you want?”


“Liv …” Elliot shakes his head, eyes closed. 


“You wanna come all over me?” Olivia teases him — her voice low and raspy. 


He nods. 


“Do it, let go. Come all over my wet, warm—“ 


There he goes. He releases against her in soft spurts at first. They’re steady, at first hitting her lower stomach. But as he releases fully, jerking his hand up and down his shaft, he releases fully onto her. 


Olivia lets out a little sound, reveling in the feeling of the warm liquid running down the sensitive spots that were previously riding against him. 


“Fuck …” Elliot moans, eyes still shut tight as he finishes. 


He collapses onto his back, completely breathless. 


They lie there in silence together for a moment, both a little out of it still. He’s still recovering from his own orgasm and she’s completely flabbergasted that he managed to turn her on again just by making a mess of her.


Olivia waits for a moment before turning her head to look at him. 


“Round two?” She asks, a sly grin in place. 

. . . . . . . . . . 

When Olivia arrives home that night, she’s completely spent. Exhausted. Between work and her activities with Elliot, she’s ready to crawl into bed. Thankfully, she’d already had her shower back at the motel. She kind of had no choice but to shower before she left anyways … 


Olivia throws her keys down onto her entryway table and when the realization suddenly hits her that she left her folders in the backseat of the car, she groans. 


Fuck it. 


She’s not going back down there. 


Olivia slides her blazer jacket off and tosses it over the chair in her living room. When she does, however, an envelope falls out. 


This man and his hiding techniques. 


A soft smile curls on Olivia’s lips as she kneels down to pick up the letter. She immediately opens it to read. For a moment, she thought about waiting until she was in bed. A little night time reading material. But she can’t wait. She’s too excited to see what he’s said to her. 


Olivia unfolds the letter.


I feel like I understand you now more than ever. I’ll be honest, at first I couldn’t reread your letter like I have the other. But once it sank in what you said about your life growing up, I had to read it again. My childhood was far from perfect. I don’t really talk about it a lot. But my mother was in and out of psychiatric hospitals. My father was hard to please. That’s an understatement, actually. He was probably the most difficult man I’ve ever come across and I have to make a conscious decision every morning when I wake up not to address my children in the way he did me. 


Sometimes I do. 


When I do, I feel like the shittiest human on earth because I know what it feels like to be talked down to. To feel like you’re not good enough. A few days ago, Dickie, my son, got into a fight at school. He started it. Over some Pokémon card or something some other kid had brought to school. I’m still not entirely sure what happened … Kathy handles stuff like that. But I happened to be off that day and I went with her when the principal called. Dickie was more afraid to tell me the truth than he was Kathy. I had to leave the room for him to confess what he had done. 


I try to be a good dad. I’m not perfect. But I felt like such a failure. I asked him if he was afraid of me and he said sometimes. I don’t hit my kids. Never have. Never would. I asked him why he was afraid of me and he said when I got mad I reminded him of Grandpa. 


I can’t tell you what that did to me, Liv. Dickie was young when my Dad was alive and around … we would get into it because he just didn’t know when to butt out. But the fact that my son remembered that and made that association really broke me. 


None of them really know my mother. But sometimes I think it would’ve been better to have her around than invite the negativity my Dad could bring into the room. At least my Mom was deliriously happy most of the time. I don’t like that my kids remember fights between him and I. 


God, I haven’t told anyone how I feel about that. No one. How do you do that? Make me feel like I can tell you anything. When we were watching TV, and you were lying on my lap, I couldn’t help but look down at you and wonder why you were there. Not that I’m complaining. But you’re beautiful. You’re smart. Funny. Witty. A little mean which … I’m kind of into it. Why don’t you have someone, Liv? Is it really enough for you to meet someone and then leave? 


I want to talk to you in person. I want you to tell me about yourself and hear your voice. I know we said no personal details. I understand why you’re scared. I do. But I think if you would just give me a chance—


Olivia closes the letter and crumbles it in her hand.




She’s done. 

. . . . . . . . 

It’s Olivia who is at the motel room first this time. Which is a first. It’s usually him waiting for her but she’s set it up to be this way. So when he comes through the motel room door with a sloppy grin on his lips, she simply stares at him — completely unamused. 


Elliot stops in his tracks after shutting the door. His expression drops, definitely picking up on her vibe. 


She’s not happy. 


“What’s wrong?” Elliot asks. 


“You tricked me.” Olivia says, standing to her feet from the foot of the bed. She crosses her arms. 


“Come again?” Elliot asks, tilting his head. 


“You’re …” Olivia takes a deep breath. “You’re trying to trick me.” 




“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Elliot shakes his head. He really doesn’t know. 


“Talking all … sweet to me in the letters.” Olivia states, her breathing all over the place. Almost like she’s about to have a panic attack. “We were just supposed to be talking about ourselves, not each other.” She adds, brown eyes big.


Elliot stares at her, an eyebrow raising. 


“You’re mad at me because I said nice things about you?” Elliot asks, blue eyes flickering around the room. 


“I’m mad, Elliot, because you … are intruding.” Olivia explains, waving her hands. 


Intruding?” Elliot asks. 


“Why don’t you have someone, Liv?” Olivia repeats a line from the letter. “Is that what you think of me? That I just am so desperate that I meet people to fuck and then go home to an empty apartment?” Olivia asks, her voice raising. 


“That’s not what I said. Liv, what I meant—“ 


“I think it’s pretty clear what you meant, Elliot. You don’t get to decide what’s enough for me.” Olivia crosses her arms. 


Elliot’s gaze is fixated on her so heavily that for a moment, everything but her goes black. He shakes his head softly, a soft laugh leaving his lips. 


Don’t fucking laugh at me.” 


“You’re … you’re scared.” Elliot says.


“And you’re fucking married.” Olivia immediately interjects. “Or have you forgotten?” 


The room falls silent. 


“Yeah, so maybe instead of romancing me you should try to romance your fucking wife. Maybe if you put a little bit of effort into that, you wouldn’t be so strung out over me.” Olivia says, picking up her purse and jacket from the bed.


Oh. She could cut. 


Elliot knew that already, so it doesn’t sting as badly as it would have if he weren’t as observational about her as he is. 


Elliot steps in front of the door. 


“Elliot, get out of my way. I will drop your ass,” She snaps her fingers, “Like that. Now move!” Olivia’s voice is becoming firmer and firmer. 


They stare each other down, almost challenging one another. 


“You’re scared that you’re going to fall for me.” Elliot states.




“Or have you already?” Elliot asks, eyebrow twitching upwards. 


“This is over. I don’t want to see you again.” Olivia brushes past him but he takes her by the arm gently, holding her in place so he can speak. 


“I know I have a wife at home. Kids. I think about that every time I step into these rooms with you. And don’t for one second think that I push it out of my mind when we’re together because it’s always there,” Elliot taps his temple. “Eating. But you and I, when we’re together, something happens, Liv. I don’t know what it is. But you make me feel like …” Elliot trails off, blue eyes becoming glassy. “Whatever is going on out there doesn’t matter.” His voice diminishes into a whisper. 


Olivia’s eyes are cast down. She won’t look at him. Not at first. But when she does, it’s slow. Thick eyelashes flutter upwards until her brown eyes fixate on him — teary and wide. 


“You’re the softest man I’ve ever met in my life.” Olivia chokes up. It almost sounds like an insult. Almost. 


Elliot exhales deeply. 


“But the sweetest place I’ve ever been.” 

Chapter Text

Their stare is unwavering. The words that just left her mouth seem so unlike her that for a brief moment, he has to remind himself that he’s standing in front of Olivia Benson. The tough exterior that she’s built seemingly washes away with just the few words that she spoke to him. 


Elliot’s lips twitch into a soft smile. When she sees he’s smiling, she thinks he’s about to laugh so her own expression drifts into sadness. She’s softer now. More vulnerable. 


“Don’t laugh at me.” Olivia repeats her words with much less anger. They’re whispery. 


Elliot turns fully to face her, letting go of her arm. 


“I’m not laughing. I wouldn’t do that.” Elliot reassures her, moving so that they’re nearly pressed to each other. 


Olivia’s eyes drift down to his lips and they remain there.


“You wouldn’t?” Olivia asks.




Elliot tilts his head at her, blue eyes locked on half open brown ones. He doesn’t know how to ask who hurt her. How she got to be this way, that she doesn’t believe simple words.


“Trust me.” Elliot leans down just enough to get her to look at him. But she won’t. He can tell, even through thick eyelashes, that tears have gathered in her eyes. She turns her head a little before slowly cornering her eyes up at him. They’re full. Teary. 


“I don’t know you.” Olivia replies. 


Nothing, at first. 


“Yeah, you do.” Elliot nods, blue eyes narrowing at her. “And I know you.” 


Elliot raises both hands to cup her cheeks. Sometimes she hates when he studies her as intensely as he is in this moment. She lets out a shaky little breath. 


“We’ll just … take it slow and see where it goes.” Elliot whispers. “Keep writing me, and I’ll keep writing you.” He nods, eyes locked on hers. 


Olivia’s hands come up to cup the outside of his. Her thumbs stroke his wrists, his knuckles. 


“Okay.” She agrees. 

 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Beep, beep, beep, beep. 



The grocery clerk rings out the family before her. Olivia waits there patiently, her grocery basket handles linked through her arm. She takes notice of the little girl standing behind her mother, smiling up at her. 


Olivia ignores her at first, but the little girl keeps trying to get her attention by waving the Barbie doll she holds in her hand at Olivia. Finally, Olivia looks down at the little girl with a grin and makes a funny face — crossing her eyes and sticking her tongue out. 


“Hehhhehe.” The little girl giggles, clutching onto her mother’s coat. 


Her mother turns around, looking down at the little girl and then at Olivia.


“I am so sorry! Is she bothering you?” The woman asks, a soft smile on her face. 


“Not at all. She’s precious.” Olivia says quietly. 


“Are you a pweece ossicer … ossi …” The little girl struggles to pronounce the words, but she’s pointing at Olivia’s badge, which is clipped on her waistband and in plain view. 


“A police officer? I am.” Olivia nods. 


“I thought only boys could do that?” The little girl sings. 


“Elizabeth, boys and girls are police officers.” The blonde chimes in, smiling kindly down at her daughter. 


“Ohhhh.” Elizabeth stares the badge down. 


“Is it okay if I show it to her?” Olivia asks the woman. 


“Of course. Thank you.” The blonde nods, turning to pay for their groceries. 


Olivia unclips her badge from her waist and kneels down in front of the little girl. She holds it in the center of her palm so the little girl can get a better view of it. 


‘It’s shiny.” Elizabeth giggles, running her index finger over it. “Do you wear it everyday?” She asks. 


“Most of the time.” Olivia nods with a smile. 


Elizabeth looks back up at her mother, tugging on the blonde’s sweater. 


“Mommy when I get big I want to be a …” Elizabeth looks back to Olivia, who is still knelt in front of her. 


“Police officer.” Olivia smiles sweetly. 


“That. Okay?” Elizabeth asks, wide eyed. 


“You can be anything you want to be, sweetheart.” Her mother laughs softly, closing her checkbook and shoving it in her purse. “Oh there’s your Daddy.” She adds, pointing out of Olivia’s view. 


“Daddy!” Elizabeth runs around the checkout counter. 


Olivia stands up and when she does, she’s nearly knocked off her balance. Elliot stands there with Elizabeth in his arms — her head resting on his shoulder. When Elliot takes notice of her, their eyes lock. 


“Daddy, that lady is a … police officer!” Elizabeth pronounces the words correctly, looking rather proud of herself. “Her badge is shiny.” She adds, pointing to it. 


Kathy looks back and forth between them. 


“Honey, you ready to go?” She asks Elliot, who has finally broken his gaze away from Olivia. 


Olivia does the same, forcing her shaking hands to bring her groceries out of the basket and lay them on the belt. 


“Yeah.” Elliot nods with a smile. Kathy pushes the cart through the automatic doors. Elliot follows her out, Elizabeth still in his arms. The little girl waves bye at Olivia, but she’s not looking. She can’t look. She feels like she’s going to throw up. 


Once Elliot finishes putting their groceries in the car, he climbs into the driver’s seat. Kathy sits beside him, looking at him strangely. 


“Do you know that woman?” Kathy asks, eyes staring intensely at him. 


“What woman?” Elliot asks. He knows what woman. 


Kathy’s gaze remains fixed on him before looking straight ahead. 


“Never mind.” Kathy shrugs it off. 


Elliot’s hands are shaking as he turns his keys in the ignition. 


Kathy notices. 


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Olivia doesn’t even know why she’s here. She knows in her heart, it would’ve just been better to throw Elliot’s number away and never see him again. But, she knows him better than that. 


Damn him, she knows him. 


She knows if she just stops calling, he’ll show up at her work. And she won’t be able to resist him. He’s become a habit of hers. A bad one. But he’s her favorite bad habit. 


Olivia makes her way up the stairs that lead to their motel room. She goes to the door and turns the knob, letting herself in. Once she enters the room, she sees him sitting on the bed — waiting for her. A soft smile on his lips. 


“Hey.” Elliot says. 


“Hi.” Olivia replies, laying her car keys down on the tiny round table at the entrance of the room. She reaches and locks the deadbolt on the door and kicks her shoes off. 


Elliot watches her as she begins to strip. Immediately. Without another word. Her shirt flies to the ground. She unclasps her bra — slides that off. Her pants. She leaves her underwear on. She walks over to him and pushes him back onto the bed. 




“SSH …” Olivia puts her finger over his lips. “Don’t wanna talk. Just fuck me.” She whispers, fingers working on his shirt. 


Elliot leans up to kiss her, feeling her grind against the front of his pants — against the already growing bulge there. He lets out a soft sound, his hand disappearing between their bodies. She reaches between them and slaps his hand away. 


“No. Just …” Olivia lets out a grunt. 


Something’s wrong. He can tell. But he’s not sure how to ask. Hell, he may even know what the problem is. But again … how does he even bring that up? 


Olivia crawls off of him and up towards the headboard. Olivia turns around so that her back is to him and she sticks her ass out. 


“Come on.” Olivia invites him. 




Elliot pulls his shirt off and begins unbuckling his belt. 


“Are you coming?” Olivia asks, impatiently. Her hands are gripped onto the headboard. 




“Do you want to or not?” Olivia asks. 




“Yeah, just let me …” Elliot trails off, pushing his pants down. 


Olivia is quiet, her breathing shaky. She reaches down long enough to push her black underwear past her full hips, until they’re hanging from each side of her knees.


She can hear him from behind her stroking himself, simply by the sounds that leaves him. She looks over her shoulders to see him positioning himself at her entrance. 


Olivia’s eyes shut when she feels him moving his tip in between her folds — so she bucks her hips backwards. 


“Want it.” Olivia bites her lip, spreading her knees a little further apart. 


“Liv, are you sure you don’t—“


“Please …” Olivia’s voice softens. 


Olivia hears Elliot spit, and although she can’t see, she imagines he’s lubricating himself for her. Slowly, she feels him begin to push inside. 


Her hands grip at the headboard. A soft grunt leaves her when she feels him fully inside her. She pushes her hips backwards, signaling him to move. 


“Christ …” Elliot huffs, his hands reaching for her hips. 


“Hard.” Olivia breathes out, pushing backwards again. 


“Just give me time …” Elliot begins to rock against her. 


Olivia rolls her eyes at him, sighing intentionally so that he can hear. 


“What’s your problem?” Elliot asks. 




Elliot goes to pull out of her, but she quickly shakes her head. 


“Please don’t … just …” Olivia rocks backwards against him, a soft moan leaving her. “Don’t stop …” She looks over her shoulders at him, brown eyes dark. 


Elliot’s gaze remains fixated on her. He gives a slight push forward, a small wave of pleasure coursing up his shaft. 


“Mmm …” Elliot hums, grabbing onto her hips again.


“Just like that …” Olivia pants, feeling the bed begin to move. 


Elliot keeps rocking into her, feeling her become wetter around him — so it’s easier to move. 


“Harder …” Olivia pants, gripping onto the headboard. 


Elliot begins to move into her harder, a string of curse words flying out of his mouth. 


“Harder.” Olivia bites her bottom lip. 


Elliot furrows his eyebrows, pushing forward with everything he has. He’s already close, just from the fact that they’re moving so quickly and she’s tight around him. 


“Liv …” 








Elliot pulls himself from her the moment he hears the first sob leave her. He reaches for her shoulder and turns her around, so that she rolls over on her back. She closes her legs and puts her arm over her face to shield it from him. 


“What is it, baby?” Elliot asks, his voice low.


Just go.” Olivia’s voice is small, broken. 


“No, tell me what it is.” Elliot says, reaching and pulling her arm away. “Tell me.” He adds, his voice gentler more than it already was. 


Her eyes are red. Puffy, already from the pent up emotion that just released itself. 


“I’m embarrassed.” Olivia confesses. “I’m … I’m so ashamed.” She rolls over on her stomach and buries her face in the pillow. 


Me too, he wants to say. But tonight, it isn’t about what he feels. She’s clearly affected by what happened. 


Elliot knows exactly what she’s talking about. She’s tried so hard to separate herself from him. But seeing him with his family only a couple of days ago has given them both the reality check they needed, but didn’t want. 


Elliot runs his fingers over his bare back, like he knows she likes. 


“What do you want to do?” He asks, hesitant to even receive her answer. He’s afraid she may tell him this is over. That they can never see each other again. 


Olivia removes her face from the pillow, peeking up at him. 


“I should want to stop.” Olivia begins, her voice in a whisper. “I shouldn’t want you.” She adds, staring up at him. 


“But?” Elliot asks, his fingers still dancing across her back. 




“I need you.” She confesses. 


Elliot exhales a sigh. A rush of relief floods him. Something sweet gathers in the pit of his stomach and travels up to his throat … out of his mouth — 


“I need you.” Elliot repeats her words back to her. 


It’s not an I love you, but it’s close. They don’t know what they are to each other quite yet. Maybe they never will. All they know is that when they leave this room and go their separate ways, the world feels a little less safe. 


Olivia sits up slowly and removes her underwear the rest of the way — sliding them down her legs and pushing them off her ankles with her heels. She leans against him, chest to breast, and presses her mouth to his. She’s stopped crying, but the last of her tears are still dripping down her cheeks. Olivia’s hand reaches for his, where she begins to play with his fingers with her own. 


“Make love to me.” 

Chapter Text

Her words were soft and enticing. 


Make love to me


Elliot had tried once, but somehow, she was able to slither her way out of it. Seduce him into the allure of being wild and untamed. But now, she wanted what he’s been wanting for weeks. Just to slow down and take the time to touch one another. Not be in a hurry to come, literally, and go. 


The very tips of Elliot’s fingers travel up her arm, like they were on her back just moments before. He can feel her shiver as she sits up, one hand pressed firmly into the mattress to keep herself upright. She tilts her head to the side once she feels his fingers traveling along her shoulder and her collarbone — along the side of her neck. Olivia moans at that alone, closing her eyes. She releases a heavy breath, brown eyes only parting enough to see his face. Everything else is a blur. Oceans stare back. 


Elliot leans in so that their mouths are so close they can feel each other’s breath. He pecks her full lips once, twice, then three times — and on the third, his tongue grazes her bottom lip and she immediately opens her mouth for him. 


“Hm,” Comes from Olivia — a soft, enjoyable sound. She tilts her head, opening her mouth fully as she feels his tongue swipe against her own. Their mouths stay like that for a good minute, simply exploring one another. His hand has come to rest on the side of her face, his thumb sitting on her chin in efforts to help keep her mouth ajar. 


Elliot’s hand leaves the side of her face and begins it’s way down her body. His palm slides past her breast, fingers grazing over one of her hard peeks. She lets out a soft sigh, pulling away from the kiss when she feels his fingers teasing the inside of her thigh, all the way up until they’re at her entrance, swirling and lapping at the wetness that’s already there for him. 


“Elliot …” Olivia whimpers, her expression contorting. 


“C’mere …” Elliot breathes out, reaching for her and bringing her onto his lap. Her back rests against his, her arm snakes behind his neck — the flat of her hand pressed against the back of his head. She spreads her legs wide for him and when she feels his fingers again, she bucks her hips. 


His mouth is to her ear, breathing out hot little words at her like … “How’s that? Good, huh? You’re so wet …” Over and over. 


That is, until he says something that drives her absolutely wild. 


“This is mine …” He slides a finger inside her, “Just mine. That’s what I wanna hear, baby. Tell me no one else has been inside you since me.” Elliot husks against her ear, low and gravely. 


Olivia pants, practically shaking already. Her head falls back onto his shoulder, a whimper leaving her already parted lips. 


“Nobody.” She whispers. Her breathing is all over the place — wild and erratic. 


“Promise?” He begins to pump two fingers in and out of her, the palm of his hand pressing against her clit. 


“Because I promise, by the time I’m done with you, you’ll never want another man.” Elliot growls. 


“Promise. Don’t …” Is all she can get out. She doesn’t want another man.  


“That’s my girl.” Elliot sighs, eyes closed as he nuzzles his face against hers. 


“Mmmhhh …” Olivia writhes against him, legs parting further until they practically up in her chest. She can feel his hard length pressed up against her back, so in some effort to gain control - she grinds backwards against it. 


“Fuck …” Elliot hums, his fingers still working between her folds — inside her. 


Then she laughs that laugh and it takes everything in him not to turn her right back over and fuck her like he has already, many times before — but he has other matters to tend to. He’s going to take his time tonight. 


“Trying to get a rise out of me …” Elliot groans against her ear, “Not fair.” 


“I think I already did.” She jabs, a lazy smirk on her lips as she rolls her head on his shoulder to look at him. 


Elliot pulls his fingers from her and brings them to her mouth. She looks at him for a moment, and eyebrow arched before opening her mouth and accepting them. She runs her tongue over his fingertips — inciting another soft groan from Elliot. 


“You like that don’t you? How you taste?” Elliot asks. “You taste so good.” He adds with a whisper. 


Suddenly, she’s off his lap and on her back. The movement alone is rough, quick. Like they’ve been before. But the moment he shoves her legs apart again, he’s back to the slow pace that they’d started at. She catches her breath from the impact of her back against the mattress and draws her legs into her chest. 


“Want your tongue …” Olivia whines, raising her hips up for him. 


“I know you do …” Elliot lays the inside of her thighs with open mouthed kisses. “I’m going to give you what you want, baby.” 


There he goes with that again. Baby. But she hasn’t told him to stop calling her that in a while now. 


Please …” She mewls, even the soft circular motions of her hips in the air is enough to provide a little relief. Just any kind of friction she can get to relieve the aching throb that’s already there for him.


“This wet just from my fingers?” Elliot teases, playfully biting the inside of her thigh — smoothing it over with a kiss. She yelps probably the most delighted sound he’s ever heard from her. 


“Yeah …” Olivia answers, nodding. 


“What are you going to do when you have my cock?” Elliot inquires. 


Cocky son of a bitch. 


“You … I want that …” She’s becoming incoherent and he hasn’t even touched her yet. 


“I thought you wanted my tongue?” Elliot’s mouth hovers above her clit, where he then leans down and places a kiss just above it. 


“No, I want that.” She pants. 


Which one?” Elliot grins. 


She’s going to get him for this. 


“I …Elliot stop teasing …” She whines. It’s cute. Sexy. He doesn’t know what to even describe it as other than that but overall, his favorite thing about sex with her is watching her fall to shambles for him. 


Elliot’s mouth envelopes her, taking in the swollen nub that rests between her folds. She arches her back and shakes — hands coming up from the bedsheets and balling into fists of pleasure. 


“I—oh — oh, baby …” Olivia lets out a little cry, taking it upon herself to toss one thigh over his shoulder. The back of her heel digs into him, toes curling and spreading at each motion he makes with his tongue. 


Elliot uses his fingers to spread her gently, before moving his mouth further down the insides of her lips, where he sucks and licks against the sensitive spots there. 


His fingers re-enter her, where he begins soft pumping motions. She’s wet. So wet, that it can be heard. 


Elliot pulls back momentarily, licking his lips as he does. 


“You’re soaked for me.” Elliot states, placing a kiss on her thigh again before returning to the warm wet center that so badly needs his attention. She’s flushed, pink and swollen there. 


“I-God … oh …oh!” Olivia moans, digging her heel into his back so hard that even she knows it’s too hard — so she swings her leg back over and draws both of them into her stomach — giving him all the access she needs. “Gonna come … stop, wanna come with you.” She groans, propping herself up on her elbows so she can look down at him. 


Elliot pulls away from her, a string of her arousal falling from his chin as he does. He scoots up on his knees, only to fall forward and catch himself with his hands on either side of her head. He leans down and presses his lips to hers, his tongue — which was previously just inside her, begs for entrance to her mouth once more. 


Olivia opens immediately, tasting herself on him. Elliot nibbles on her bottom lip just as he leaves her mouth, his lips trailing down her jawline — placing soft, delicate kisses there. When he gets to her neck, he begins to softly suck and lick, leaving his mark. 


“No hickeys.” Olivia pants.


“Too late.” Elliot smirks, feeling her hand in between their bodies. He looks down to see that she’s trying to touch herself. 


“So impatient.” Elliot taps her hand away and she lets out a pitiful whimper. 


“Need you.” 


Elliot, already pretty uncomfortable himself, pushes her legs a little further apart and positions himself against her entrance. 


“Look at me.” Elliot nods. And she does, brown eyes wide and fixated up on him. When he begins to push into her, they flutter shut. “Uh-uh, eyes wide open, baby. I want to see.” He pants, pushing in until there’s nowhere else for him to go. 


“God …” Olivia bounces down against him — causing the bed to jolt. 


Elliot moans. 


“So impatient.” 


She laughs. 


That laugh


“You’re so sexy.” Elliot lays down just a little, still holding his weight so he won’t crush her. Their chests are pressed together firmly. He’s resting against her in such a way that his lower stomach is pressed against her clit. So the moment he begins rocking against her, she lets out a soft hiss.


Olivia’s arms go underneath Elliot’s, so that her hands are flat against his lower back. Guiding him in and out from there. When he begins to speed up enough, just enough, to make them both feel good — she presses her palms against him. 


“Oh …” 


“How’s that?” 




“You feel so good …” 


“So full …” 


“I know you are, baby.” 


“Uhhh …” 


“Fuck …”


Back and forth, like that — for a while. 


Elliot cradles her in his arms as he works into her. He somehow managed to slide both of them underneath her, his hands coming to rest behind her shoulder blades. 


“I’m gonna come … I —“ Olivia cries, nuzzling her cheek against his neck. She moves her mouth so she can kiss the skin there. But when she bites against his shoulder, he jolts against her. 


“Fuck …” Elliot can feel himself beginning to release — so he begins to move quicker, hell bent on bringing her with him. 


“Elliot …” Olivia’s hands hold firmly against his lower back — legs drawn up around his hips, close to his rib cage. 


“God, ‘Livia … come with me … come with me … fuck, I’m coming …” He begins to let go.


Brown eyes widen as she feels him spurt once, twice — then fully flood her with his warmth and that sensation alone is enough to make her come. She begins to flutter around him, her hips bucking and jerking as she accepts everything he has for her. As she’s coming, she feels a wet watery feeling beneath her ass, coming not only from him — but her as well. 


“Uhhhhh …” Elliot moans into her neck, slowing his pace, but still occasionally pushing forward. 










Olivia feels him relax against her, soft sounds being exchanged from them both. He raises his head from the crook of her neck and presses his mouth to hers. Soft pecks simply because he doesn’t have the energy for anything else in that moment. She smiles against his lips — meeting each peck with her own. 


“Mmm …” Is all he says. He doesn’t move from her. Not right away anyhow. He moves down just enough so that his head is resting on her chest. Elliot places another kiss there, just under the mound of her breast. He nuzzles himself against her, hearing her heart and the way it thumps against her chest.


For him.


He hopes it’s always only just for him. 

Chapter Text

The room is quiet as they lie there together facing one another. Elliot hasn’t been able to stop touching her since the moment he rolled off of her. His finger graze against her jawline — all the way behind the shell of her ear. 


“Don’t fall asleep.” Elliot whispers. “Because then I’ll fall asleep.” Blue eyes remain barely open.


“I’m just resting my eyes.” Olivia smiles, nuzzling into the pillow. 


“You’re a bad liar.” Elliot grins, his finger dancing down her neck — her bare shoulder. 


“Am I?” Olivia laughs, her nose coming up into a soft scrunch. 


Elliot’s smile doesn’t cease, though it does grow larger when he watches her scoot closer to him so that her face is nearly buried in his chest. 


“You don’t play fair.” Elliot says, his voice low and rough from their activities. 


“How’s that?” Olivia asks, a soft yawn following. 


Elliot laughs. That. That right there. 


“Because if we fall asleep together, you’re going to be pretty pissed in the morning.” Elliot cocks a brow, blue eyes drifting down to her face. 


She looks up at him, brown eyes tired and nearly void of make up at that point. 


“I’m not falling asleep. See? My eyes are wide open.” Olivia’s eyes widen playfully, inciting another soft laugh from Elliot. 


Elliot leans down and quickly captures her lips with his own, his hand coming to rest on the side of her face. As they kiss, Olivia begins wrapping her legs in his. Heels gliding on heels, calves on calves. 


“Vanilla ….” Olivia grins against his lips, a slight snort leaving her. 


“We’re back on that?” Elliot asks. Kiss. “Again?” 


“Mhm.” Kiss. “I told you …” Kiss. “Vanilla …” kiss. “Is my—“


“Favorite.” Kiss. “Yeah, I know.” Elliot chuckles, pulling back to get a good look at her face. “What am I going to do with you?” He asks, a soft sigh passing his lips. 




“Vanilla.” She snorts. 


“You know what …” Elliot goes to move away from her, feigning offense. 


“No, no, come back.” Olivia reaches for him and he immediately comes back to her. 


“I’ll behave.” Olivia promises. 


“I’m trying to be sweet.” Elliot states, wrapping an arm around her. 


Olivia buries her face in his chest. 




Vanillaaaaa.” Olivia erupts into laughter. 


Elliot rolls over so that he’s pinning her arms above her head by her wrists. She’s giggling like a mad woman as he begins attacking her neck with kisses, writhing beneath him wildly. 


. . . 


Three hours later


4:00 am


“What are you going to tell her?” Olivia asks him. He’s laying on her chest again and she’s playing with the hairs on the back of his neck. 


“Something.” Elliot replies. 




“I’m hungry.” Olivia declares, waving her finger up and down the back of his neck — in between his shoulder blades. 


“Oh?” Elliot asks suggestively, raising his head from her chest. They’ve been going at it for hours and quite frankly, even she doesn’t know where he finds the energy. 


“Not like that.” She smacks his Jesus tattoo. 


Ow!” Elliot exaggerates. 


“Ohhh-hooo,” Olivia cooes, watching him roll off of her and onto his back. “Did I hurt vanilla boy?” She teases him, brown eyes cornered at him. 


“You’re mean to me.” Elliot grins, rubbing over his tattoo. 


“I thought you were … what did you say?” Olivia leans down, placing a kiss over the tattoo. “Into it?” She adds with a whisper. 


Elliot cocks an eyebrow at her, blue eyes flickering back and forth between the tattoo and her face. He holds his arm out a little. 


Olivia mimics him, raising an eyebrow when she sees the expression on his face. 


Oh, he likes that. 


“Huh.” Olivia’s lips curl up devilishly. “Does that turn you on? When I do this?” Olivia kisses the tattoo again. 


“I think just about anything you do turns me on.” Elliot says truthfully, eyes still focused on her lips as she occasionally leans down to kiss the tattoo he’s had since he was a young man. 


Olivia sits up on her knees, only to straddle his hips and lay down on top of him. They’ve been doing that on and off, taking turns. Elliot’s hands immediately go to her waist. 


“I like the tattoo.” Olivia grins down at him. 




“Yeah. I especially like …” Olivia kisses his neck, trailing all the way up to his ear.


Careful, I’m still catholic.” Elliot’s hands move back to cup her ass. He squeezes. 


“When you’re on top of me …” 


“Very vanilla of you …” Elliot jokes. 


Olivia snorts. 


“… and I can barely breathe, because you’re going just that rough, just that good… and I need something to grab onto so I just …” Olivia clutches the side of his arm. 


Elliot groans softly. 


“Cheez-its.” Olivia whispers against his lips. 




“Cheez-its. Or Lay’s, that’s fine too.” Olivia states, raising up. 


Elliot opens his eyes and stares up at her, a look of pure confusion on his face. 


“Will you go get me a snack?” Olivia’s face softens. “From the vending machine?” She asks, running the palm of her hand up his bare chest. 


“You’re a tease.” Elliot laughs, thinking they were just about to go at round … whatever, they were on. 


Olivia rolls her eyes, grinning wildly. She crawls off him and begins making her way down the foot of the bed. 


“I’ll go get my own—“


Elliot grabs her by the ankles, pulling her back into bed. 


Snack!” Olivia lands on her stomach. 


Elliot swings one leg over her and leans down, where he peppers the back of her neck and naked back with kisses. 


“I’ll get it.” He grumbles against her skin. “Don’t go anywhere.” Elliot smirks, making his way over her and crawling out of the bed. 


“Where am I going to go? I want my Cheez-its, Stabler.” Olivia crosses her arms and rests her chin on them. Hair falls into her face. 


“Yeah, yeah.” Elliot grins, reaching for his pants and slipping them on. 


“I have change in my purse ….” Olivia points to the purse hanging off of one of the chairs. 


“I got it.” Elliot winks at her and slips his shoes on.

By the time Elliot makes it back to the room, Olivia is sitting up in the middle of the bed in his shirt. His work shirt, blue — short sleeved and buttoned up. The Riker’s emblem on the sides of the sleeves. It’s big on her, but the sight of it alone is enough to make him stop and look at her for a moment. 


Olivia pouts, noticing what’s in his hands. 


“That’s not Cheez-its. Or Lay’s.” Olivia fights back a grin. 


“The vending machine is … scarily low. I think someone may be having all of their meals from it.” Elliot states, carrying two twinkies in his hand — one in between his fingers, the other resting in his palm. 


“I don’t like twinkies.” Olivia teases.


“It was either this or … Twizzlers.” Elliot states, kicking his shoes off and crawling back into bed with her. 


I like Twizzlers.” She sings, crossing her arms. 


She’s clearly fucking with him and he can’t help but laugh. He’s never met a woman that’s so sure about what she likes, what she doesn’t. What she wants, what she doesn’t. 


“Want me to go back?” Elliot asks, dropping the Twinkies on the bed. He would. He’d do anything for her. Even empty a vending machine for the appropriate snack. 


“I’m just joking.” Olivia’s voice softens. “Thank you.” She raises up, reaching for the Twinkies. Olivia gives a soft tug at the wrapper, the crinkling sound of it filling the room as she takes the sponge cake from the plastic. 


“You really don’t like them?” Elliot asks. 




Olivia takes the very top of the cake off with her fingers, laying it on the plastic wrapper on the bed. Some of the spongy cake comes off on her fingers, so she cleans them off with her mouth. 


“The filling is the best part.” Olivia replies, finally. Elliot’s entire expression drops as he watches her dip her finger into the cream filling and bring it out on her finger. She puts it in her mouth and raises her brown eyes up to meet his blue ones. 


She sucks her finger clean. 


“You really are a make lemonade out of lemons, kind of woman, aren’t you?” Elliot asks, his voice low. 


Olivia does it again, dips her finger inside the Twinkie and brings her finger back up to her lips. She stops before sliding it past her lips, an eyebrow raising. 


He knows that look. 




“Take your pants off.” Olivia smirks, her voice in a whisper. She sticks her finger in her mouth and sucks off the cream.


Elliot stares at her for a moment before bringing his hands to the fly of his pants. He unzips them and pushes them down over his legs. She almost laughs at the little maneuver he does to get them off while lying down. He’s already a little … uncomfortable, but she suspects that was from their earlier activities. The tattoo teasing. 


“Stroke yourself.” Olivia’s tone is low.


Elliot takes a deep breath, his hand coming up to wrap around his length. His fingers begin working in soft strokes against himself at first, watching as she unwraps each Twinkie — completing her little ritual of removing the top of the second cake. She lays them strategically in a line, a huge grin forming on her lips. 


“What are you going to do?” Elliot asks, a soft pant leaving his lips. 


“Keep going. Get it nice and hard for me.” Olivia lays down on her side, propped up on her elbow. 


“Fuck …” Elliot closes his eyes for a moment, reopening them to watch her rub her bare thighs together. “It turns you on … watching me?” Elliot asks, his hand jerking a little quicker. 


I said get it ready.” Olivia takes a deep breath. She could be bossy. He knew that already. 


Olivia lies there a moment longer, before sitting up and unbuttoning his shirt that she’s wearing. She lets it hang open, but doesn’t take it off. There’s nothing underneath, of course. She picks up one of the Twinkies again and closes the gap between them. Elliot watches as she dips her middle finger into the cream, bringing out as much as her fingertip will hold. 


She leans forward and makes a wiping motion against the pink tip of his erection — placing the cream from the cake around it. 


A soft groan leaves Elliot, because now — now he knows what she’s doing. 


“You want my mouth?” Olivia asks, brown eyes looking up at him from thick black eyelashes. The second her fingers wrap around him, he lets out a little moan for her. She smirks. He knows she likes that. 


“Yeah.” Elliot huffs, both eyebrows raised — ready to watch every little thing she does to him. 


Olivia opens her mouth and drags her tongue across his tip, swirling around it as she laps up the cream. “Hm.” She brings her tongue back into her mouth — a little cream hitting her upper lip on the way back in, so she drags her tongue back out quickly to grab that too. 


“Olivia …” Elliot clears his throat, his head coming to rest on the headboard. 


Olivia strokes him once, twice. 


“You’re so hard for me.” She says, releasing him only to dip more cream from the cake. She repeats her motion, placing it across his bright pink skin. But this time, instead of licking, she sucks. 


“Fuck …” 




The moment her lips wrap around him completely and she bobs her head down, the most ungodly sound leaves him. 


“Uhh …” Elliot’s hand comes to the back of her head, thick digits tangling in her short locks. 


Olivia’s hand comes to rest at the base of his shaft, where she presses down just a little to get a reaction out of him. He bucks his hips upwards into her mouth, causing a slight gagging sound to come from her. 


“That’s good …” Elliot hums, his breathing all over the place. He feels her moan around him, which sends a wave of pleasure through his hips. Olivia raises up for a moment, only to reach for the second Twinkie. The last one. She dips her finger into it and runs the white cream up the length of his shaft. But he’s so wet from her mouth, that it simply begins to run. She drops the cake. 


Olivia leans back down, running her tongue flat against him — all the way up until the cream gathers back up into her mouth. When she reaches his tip again, her lips wrap around him again and she begins to suck and bob her head against him. 


“Shit …” Elliot pulls on her hair a little, which earns him a soft moan from her. He gives another tug. Elliot’s eyes drift down to see that her hand is between her own legs, bucking and grinding against her hand. Every time she touches herself in just the right way, it travels from between her legs and out around him in soft groans.


Only a few moments go by, but she can tell he’s close simply by the way she feels him twitch inside her mouth. He’s leaking, so she drags her tongue across his tip yet again. 


“Gonna come …” Elliot warns. 


Olivia immediately comes up, wiping her lips — which are completely soaked from him, with the corner palm of her hand. She straddles his hips and peels her, well his, shirt off — tossing it to the side. Elliot reaches down between them and guides himself into her. Olivia sinks down onto him, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment. 


Olivia’s hands come to his shoulders, bracing herself. She begins to rock. Their eyes lock in such an intense way, that for a moment, she almost looks away. But she doesn’t. They stare at each other. Playtime is over and they’re in that place again. The place where no boundaries exist, where the outside world doesn’t exist. Shame is gone. Guilt is nonexistent. 


Pants fill the room as she rides against him, her hands moving down to his chest. He leans forward and begins placing heated, open mouthed kisses across her breasts. His mouth latches onto one of her nipples, giving it a soft tug between his teeth — which in return, incites a loud moan from Olivia. 


He reaches up with one hand and laces his fingers in her hair again, giving it a tug, since he’s just learned she likes that too. 


Their eyes lock. 


I think I love you. He wants to say. 


But he doesn’t. 


“Vanilla.” Elliot’s voice is raspy, untamed. 


“What?” Olivia whimpers out. 


“Vanilla.” Blue eyes stare intensely at her, watching as she bounces against him. 


Silence. Her lips curl into a soft grin.


What does vanilla even mean to them now? 


Does it mean, I need you? I want you? 


Does it mean, you’re a sweet place? 


Does it mean, I think I’m in love with you, or even … I am in love with you? 


Maybe it means all of it and then some. 


“Vanilla.” Olivia repeats back, her forehead falling against his. “Come with me.” She whispers, fingers grazing his collarbone — all the way down until she’s grabbing at his Jesus tattoo. 


“Fuck …” Elliot begins to release, watching as her head knocks back the moment he does. He feels her clench around him, and she begins sputtering a few incoherent words out into the room that trail off into whispers as she finishes. His eyes lock on the front of her neck — the way her chin tips off as she’s lying back. His hands hold her flat against her back so she doesn’t completely fall backwards. Olivia groans as she feels him finish emptying himself inside her — filling her completely in every sense of the word. 


When they’re done, she comes back up slowly, pressing her chest to his. Her mouth comes to his ear, and she says …


Told you the filling is the best part.” 

Chapter Text

Her back curls against him, flooding his senses with warmth as he comes to. Elliot inhales, taking in soft scents from her shampoo. He still hasn’t figured out what it smells like. It could be cherries, he’s not sure. But it’s sweet and inviting like most of her is.


They haven’t been asleep long. Just a couple hours. But he’s the first to formally awake and when he does, he can feel the soft rise of Olivia’s breathing against him, indicating that she’s still asleep. Elliot sits up a little, giving her a soft nudge. 


“Liv …” Elliot’s voice is groggy.




“Liv?” Elliot gently shakes her shoulder. 


Hm?” Comes from her, high pitched and sleepy. 


“I have to go.” Elliot says, eyes coming up to meet the light that barely shows through the cracks of the blinds on both sides of it. It’s pale and hinting that the sun is on its way out. 

. . . . . . . .

By the time they shower and dress, the world outside is cool blue and gray. The sun is barely coming up over a tree in the distance of the motel room. Olivia wraps her arms around herself, watching as Elliot closes the door of the motel room. As he’s securing the door, she takes notice of the woman standing outside of another motel room. Older. She’s scowling at Olivia — almost as if she knows what Olivia is doing there with an older man. Elliot makes no effort to take his ring off, so she’s sure — just because the woman seems that nosy, that she’s noticed that too.


Olivia takes a deep breath, looking away from the judgement of the woman. Maybe she’s just out of her mind, staring at anyone who is in her presence. 


He turns to her. “Let me walk you to your car?” Elliot asks, grinning down at her. 


“Mmm …” Olivia shakes her head ‘no’ softly. “I’ll call you?” She asks, leaning up and pressing a soft kiss onto the corner of his lips. Elliot gently takes her by the arm, fingers wrapped around her bicep, and pulls her back into a deeper kiss. She can’t help but smile against his lips. A man has never kissed her like he does. 


When he releases her, blue eyes are staring down at her with undertones that match the scenery around them. Blue, gray. But his eyes seem to be the bluest thing around and that’s usually the case, from what she’s observed. 


Olivia doesn’t have to look to know that the woman is still staring. 


She stands there, alone, this time, watching as Elliot makes his way down the stairs and to his car. Once he’s a far enough distance away, she begins her walk towards the stairs — passing the woman. 


“Are you full yet?” The woman asks, boldly. 


Olivia stops, mid-way of the stairs. She turns around, wind blowing a chunk of hair in her face. “I’m sorry?” She asks, eyebrows furrowed into a deep knot. 


“A man who commits adultery has no sense; whoever does so destroys himself.” The woman rambles. She won’t even look at Olivia. 


Olivia stands there, staring at the woman. She plays with the end of her long gray hair, and upon further inspection of Olivia, she appears to be blind in one eye. Olivia has no words, but she can feel her eyes and nose sting. She turns and continues down the staircase, but as she does, she hears … 


“My grandkids went to Pennsylvania for Easter!” The woman exclaims. 


It’s September

. . . . . . . . . .

It doesn’t take Elliot long to get home. When his car pulls into the driveway, the sun is up just over the tree in his backyard — orange and still dulled by the midnight blue that lingers. 


Elliot brings his work jacket out of the car, holding it firmly between his fingers as he makes his way up the pathway of his house. He’s expecting Kathy to be pissed. To immediately bombard him with anger and questions — where the fuck were you? Elliot can already hear the ringing in his ears. 


But the moment he unlocks the door and enters the house, it’s so quiet he could hear a pin drop. She’s there, though. Kathy sits in the chair in the living room. One leg crossed over the other and looking exceptionally tired. 


“I’ve been calling you all night. Where have you been?” Kathy asks, elbow on the armrest of the chair. Palm over her chin. Her voice is unusually calm. 


Elliot doesn’t answer her. He simply stares. 


“Left my phone in the car …” Is all he can get out when he does decide to give her an answer. He holds his flip phone up. “I’ll start clipping it to my belt from now on …” He adds, blue eyes cornered up. 


Guilt .


Are you guilty yet?


Are you full?  


He feels that sinking feeling in his stomach. The one that creeps up on him suddenly and pokes at the sinful joy she’s planted there.


“Bellevue called.” Kathy says, her voice hoarse. Tears gather in her eyes. 


Elliot takes a deep breath, realization sinking over him as to why she’s so calm about him staying out all night. 


“Bellevue called?” Elliot repeats. It’s already sinking in, what she’s about to tell him. 


Kathy stands to her feet and walks to Elliot, her expression sympathetic. 


. . . . . . . . . . .

Olivia, surprised she hasn’t been called in to work, decides to lay down for a while. She’s running on only a couple of hours and her face shows it. Soft bags under her eyes. Actually, she just looks like sex. She looks exactly like what she’s been doing all night. Her hair is a mess. Her eyes are tired. Lips swollen. She just needs some time to rest. 


But as soon as she snuggles into her own bed and closes her eyes, her phone begins to ring. 




“Fuck!” She cries, arm slung over her face. She was so close to a nap. 


Olivia rolls over in her bed, reaching for her phone that rests on her bedside table. She recognizes the number right away. It’s definitely not Cragen. 


She flips the phone open and places it to her ear. 


“Yes?” Olivia asks. It’s usually her calling him. But how does she know his wife hasn’t taken his phone and called the number he’s received the most calls from?


“Olivia …” Elliot says, his voice low. 


Silence. Olivia scoots up, bringing her knees into her chest, underneath the blankets. “Elliot? What’s wrong?” She asks, whispering. She can hear by the soft crack in his voice that something’s wrong. 


“Can I … um … can we meet? Or can …” Elliot asks. She can’t tell, but it sounds like he’s sitting in his car. She can hear sounds of traffic — people talking, passing by. 


Olivia looks around. Does she really want to invite him into her home? Is she ready for that? Maybe it isn’t a good idea. 


She should just tell him to meet her at another motel. 

. . . . . . . . . 

Olivia swings open her door and there he is, an absolute mess. She can tell he’s been crying simply because his eyes are red. Puffy. He’s staring at her in the way that a child would when they’ve just lost their best friend or favorite stuffed animal. But his pain, she can tell, is much deeper than that. 


I know you. 


“Come in …” Olivia steps away from the door of her apartment, allowing him access. 


Elliot steps in, eyes flickering around the space. It’s small, but nice. Feminine. If it were any other night, he would be thrilled to see yet another part of her that she’s yet to show him. “It’s nice …” He musters up, coming to stand in the center of her living room, near the couch. 


Olivia shuts her door and turns around to face him. “You can sit …” She waves at the leather couch with a soft nod. “If you want.” Brown eyes drift back up to his face, trying to read any emotion she can. 


Elliot turns and sits down, bringing his elbows to rest on his knees. He scoots up a little towards the edge of the couch. As Olivia stands there, she memorizes how he sits. It’s a funny thought. But she’s only ever seen him sit in a car or on the edge of the bed. How he sits on a couch is more masculine. More casual in nature. A detail she wouldn’t usually notice about another person, but finds herself attracted to. Not particularly in a sexual way, but the kind of way she feels she needs to in order to remember him — should a day come when she has to. 


“My …. Uh … “ Elliot’s lips twist back and forth. Suddenly, there’s tears in his eyes again — they flicker up to her. “My mother … she uh, passed. Passed away.” Elliot looks down, nodding. 


The apartment becomes quiet.


“Oh …. Oh, Elliot.” Olivia’s tone drops. She makes her way over to him and places her hand on the back of Elliot’s head. 


“I just … it happened last night.” Elliot nods, looking up at her. Olivia’s hand moves to cup his cheek. The first tear slides down, but her thumb catches it. 


“I’m so sorry.” Olivia whispers, brows furrowed. Brown eyes stare intensely down at him. His blue eyes are bloodshot. Tired, like hers. 


Olivia kneels down in front of him, somewhat nestling herself in between his legs. She brings both hands to rest on his thighs, bracing herself. “What can I do?” She asks.


Elliot stares at her, drops trickling down his cheeks. “I just wanted to hear your voice. Be close to you.” He nods. 


Olivia gazes back, tears fogging her own eyes. She nods, rubbing the tops of his thighs gently with both hands. For a moment, that’s all that can be heard in the apartment — palms on jeans. 


“She was in Bellevue. I .. I put her there, Liv. I knew she wasn’t going to be happy there. But she had all of these cats and she was saying things that just …” Elliot brings his hands to his face, covering it. “Kathy didn’t want her at the house and …” His voice fades off. 


Olivia reaches and pulls his hands away. “Elliot, you were only trying to help her.” She nods, reassuringly. 


Was I? Or was I trying to help myself?” Elliot asks. 


Olivia is quiet. 


“I promised her I’d visit every weekend … that I’d bring the kids.” Elliot whispers. “But I … I didn’t.” He shrugs. “The last time we spoke …” He hangs his head. 


“You can’t beat yourself up, El.” Olivia reaches and strokes his face with her knuckles.


“She was so mad at me. Said I was a liar … and that … I didn’t care about her. Do you wanna know what the last thing I said to my mother was?” Elliot laughs through his tears, becoming more upset. 


Olivia remains quiet. She decides to just listen. 


“I told her … now you know what it feels like to be promised something, over and over again … only for someone to never come through.” Elliot turns his head slightly, eyes cornered at Olivia — who simply stares at him. “We didn’t even tell each other I love you. The call ended … so badly, Liv. I …” Elliot hangs his head. 


“Sometimes we say things we don’t mean.” Olivia whispers.


I meant it.” Elliot nods. “And she knew I meant it.” His voice fades off into a whisper. “That’s all she did when I was a kid … was disappoint me. So, maybe there was a part of me … that felt like I needed to disappoint her back. I enjoyed it. And now … I can’t take it back.” Elliot sniffs. 


Olivia thought of herself as some kind of beast, hard natured and foul at times. But she saw that even the sweetest man, her sweetest place, had rotten soil somewhere down in the pit of him. Up until that point, it seemed unlikely to her that he could spit anything as bitter as she could. 


They’re both fallible beings. She sees that now. 


Olivia leans forward and buries her face in the crook of his neck. His arms wrap around her, and she can feel him let go — release a sob against her hair. 


“Ssshh, let it out.” She whispers, eyes closed. “Let it out.” 


Their upbringings had made them the people they are today. One of them was guarded, willing to retreat herself from any feeling other than pleasure. The other gave kindness to everyone else, but himself. And now, as he needs kindness the most — he seeks it out in her. Someone who feels she can’t give of herself in such a way. But yet here she is — giving. 


Maybe they’ll keep this up until they’re so full of each other that they leave everyone else empty. Hungry.


But they’ll say to each other, yes, I am full.

Chapter Text

Water swishes around in the tub, forming soft waves upon their chests as they sit on either end of it. One of Elliot’s feet rests on the base of the tub. His other is under the water somewhere, resting near Olivia’s hip. Olivia brings her foot from the water and rests it flat on Elliot’s chest. His hand, instinctually, moves from underneath the water to grab onto her calf — large fingers gently wrapping around it. He begins to stroke her leg up and down in soft motions, bubbles and water still sliding off her tan skin. 


“I think she knows.” Elliot says, his voice low. He’s been at her apartment for a while now. Three hours, if anyone is counting. Somehow, they ended up here in her bathroom. Olivia’s suggestion. He thought for a moment they would go straight to bed, but she seemed hesitant to take him into her room. 


Olivia hears him, but doesn’t say anything in return. Brown eyes corner from the closed bathroom door, to Elliot. Her makeup is gone and has been long gone. Hair is wet and stuck to the sides of her neck. She tilts her head down slightly at him, waiting for him to speak again — eyebrows furrowed. 


“Well, maybe she doesn’t know but … I think she’s suspicious.” Elliot says, his voice low. “She didn’t have the heart to ask me this morning. But …” he trails off, his fingers still dancing up and down her leg. 




Olivia rests her head against the back of the tub and looks around. It’s a small bathroom, but it’s clean. Cleaner than the ones they’re used to at the motels. Blue tiles meet halfway up the wall. The floor is done in the same tile, which used to drive Olivia nuts when she first moved in but now she doesn’t pay much attention. The walls are white. The tub is white. There’s a small LED light that hangs over the bathroom vanity mirror, which illuminates the room pretty well. 


These are things that Elliot took in about the space when she initially led him back this way. He took notice of the bathrobe on the back of the door. Her hairbrush, still with a little loose hair in it — resting on the vanity. A makeup bag on the shelf over the toilet. He’d found himself imagining her standing in front of the mirror, getting ready to come see him every week. Then of course there was the single toothbrush, which to him, was the main indicator that she did live alone. 


Occasionally, especially times like these, reminded Elliot that ultimately, they were strangers. But he knows that her favorite color must be purple. Because that’s the color of her toothbrush. Or maybe it’s not. Maybe she just picked the first one off the rack and went about her day. 


“I’m not … you know.” Elliot says, blue eyes staring across at her. They seem bluer against the tile. It’s strange to her, especially lately, how much more attention she’s been paying to those details about him. The little creases that form on his cheeks when he smiles — soft lines that appear on the corners of his eyes. She sees them a lot when he’s looking at her because he’s usually smiling.


“You’re not, what?” Olivia asks. 


“Kathy and I … we haven’t … in a while.” Elliot’s voice is so soft that for a moment, it seems like it blends in with the soft drip coming from the spout above the tub. 


Olivia stares at him before bursting into laughter. 


Elliot’s expression drops. 


“Yeah, right. Okay.” Olivia knocks her head back and lets out a boisterous laugh. 


“I’m serious.” Elliot states, eyes locked heavily on her. 


Olivia’s expression fades, slowly then all at once. 


“You’re lying.” Olivia sings, shaking her head. 


“I’m not.” 


“Don’t tell me that …” Olivia shrugs nonchalantly, taking a deep breath. 


“Why not?” Elliot laughs.


Olivia pulls her leg from his hand and drops it back underneath the water. 


“Because eventually, when I find out you’re fucking her again, it’s going to upset me.” Olivia confesses, staring intensely across at him. 




Olivia brings one hand from the tub to scratch the corner of her eyebrow, a funny expression on her face. “Men are funny. I’ve yet to meet one of you that aren’t hyper fixated on the idea of completely having a woman … or them completely having you … up until one of them, usually the male party, decides they’re bored and—“ 


“You’re so critical.” Elliot says, leaning forward a little. Water swishes gently. “Why are you so critical of me?” He asks.


“I’m critical of everyone.” Olivia argues, eyes cast down — she begins waving her hand from underneath the water, causing soft tides. 


“Nah, nah.” Elliot shakes his head. 


“Nah.” Olivia mimics, a soft smirk on her lips. 


“You’re especially critical of men.” Elliot states. 


Olivia looks up at him, finally, and her hand ceases movement from under the water. 


“Maybe I’m just critical of you.” Olivia retorts, giving a gentle shrug. 


“Why?” Elliot asks, a curious expression on his face. 


You seem too good to be true. 


Olivia says nothing. She simply stares at him. 


You could hurt me if you tried. 


“I came to you this morning because … do you know why I came to you?” Elliot asks, tilting his head. 


“You wanted to use my bathtub?” Olivia jokes, cracking a grin. 


Elliot smirks. “No, I came to you … because I knew you’d make me feel better. Liv, you’re warmer than you think.” He adds. 


“You’re cheesy.” Olivia playfully splashes. 


“You play this tough girl with this tough exterior. But that’s not who you are …” Elliot begins. 


“Who am I, Mr. Stabler?” Olivia asks, playfully reaching into the water and grabbing a handful of bubbles. She puts them on her chin, creating a bubble beard. 


“I know you’re good with kids. Elizabeth is still going on about the cop she met at the grocery store. You’re soft for them. I think you’ve had a hard life but I think you use that to drive you to make other people’s lives better with what you do. You’re a good listener. And you … you’re sweet. You’re funny. Smart. But I think you …” Elliot trails off for a moment. 


Olivia stares at him, brown eyes somewhat wide. 


“I think you want to be loved so badly but you don’t know how to let yourself have it. So you pretend you don’t need it, because that’s easier. Less risky.” Elliot finishes, hesitantly. 


Olivia cocks a brow, eyes becoming somewhat glassy. “Hm …” She looks down. 


“Hm?” Elliot quizzes. “What’s that mean?” 


Olivia looks up at him, head still tilted down. 


“You’ve got me all figured out, don’t you?” Olivia smiles a little. Her eyes are still teary. None fall though. They’re simply there, just like he is. Either could fall or go at any moment. 


“I think I do.” Elliot gazes intensely at her. 


“I’m still figuring you out.” Olivia whispers. The bathroom falls quiet for a moment. 


“You’re overthinking. There’s not much to figure out.” Elliot grins.


“That’s what they all say.” Olivia’s voice is still low, barely audible. 


“You’re trying to find something wrong with me.” Elliot states. 


“Oh, I’ve already determined that.” Olivia laughs. 




“Yeah, you’re married. That’s your fatal flaw, my friend.” Olivia states. 




“Is that why you wanted me? That night in the bar.” Elliot asks. It’s a fair question. 


Olivia stares at him, longer than she intends to at first. She looks down, and for a moment — shamefulness cues. She licks her lips and shrugs. “I was lonely that night and I thought since you were married you wouldn’t try to see me again.” She confesses. 


Elliot takes a deep breath. “And now? Are you glad we ran into each other again?” He asks. 


Olivia doesn’t say a word. Slowly, she makes her way up from the tub and moves towards him. Elliot scoots forward to meet her halfway, until he sits in the center of the tub. Olivia straddles Elliot, eyes cast down on him. She leans forward and presses her mouth against his softly. The kiss starts faint, soft — but quickly becomes more passionate. Heated. Elliot reaches up with one hand and laces his fingers through her wet hair. The other hand comes to rest on the small of her back. 


She braces herself on his shoulders, hands gripped firmly on him. The moment she feels her rock against him, he gives a soft groan against her lips. Olivia begins stroking herself against him, feeling his length move between her folds from underneath the water. 


“Fuck …” Elliot hangs his head. 


“You like that?” Olivia whispers heatedly against his ear. 


“Yeah …” Elliot nods, burying his face in her neck. “Let me take you to bed …” 


“Uh-uh, right here.” Olivia immediately replies. 


Elliot’s face moves from the crook of her neck, where he then begins placing soft kisses along her chest. Her hips work against him softly, feeling him harden with what seems like every movement. Elliot’s mouth latches onto her breasts, showing each one the attention he knows she likes. He’s learned her body well at this point. What she likes and what she doesn’t. The moment he begins nibbling around her nipple, she throws her head back and grabs onto the back of his head. 


“Hmm …” Elliot begins to suck against her skin, his tongue swirling around the hard peak. He goes to the other, doing the same thing. 


They stay like that for a moment, teasing — getting each other ready. But when Olivia pulls away and moves off him, he raises a brow in confusion. He thinks for a moment that she’s going to get out of the tub, maybe take him to her room. But when she turns around and sticks her ass out to him, his jaw clenches. He knows what she wants. She doesn’t even have to ask at this point. 


Elliot sits up on his knees and scoots just a little closer to her so that the tip of his erection is lined up against her. She’s gripping onto the back of the tub, knuckles already white and bracing herself. Elliot trails his hand up against her wet ass cheek and gives it a soft smack. He knows she likes that too. She yelps — delighted. Laughs that laugh. 


He smacks again. Harder. 


She jolts, already breathless. 


“Again …” Olivia whispers, forehead buried over her hands — which are still resting on the back of the tub. 


Elliot runs his hand over the wet skin there, and hauls off — smacking her hard. A red handprint is there, prominent. 


“Oh …” 


Elliot reaches in between their bodies and positions himself at her opening. He begins pushing into her, inch by inch. Olivia wiggles her hips backward, accepting him. All of him. He’s a big man, and sometimes it’s hard for her to adjust straight away but as soon as her ass cheeks meet the front of his pelvis, she gives a soft bounce against him — letting him know she’s ready. 


Elliot starts slow — but she’s meeting him already, thrusting backwards roughly against him, which causes soft grunts to leave him. 


This woman was going to kill him. 


“Harder …” Olivia pants, one hand leaving the edge of the tub and disappearing into the water. He assumes she’s touching herself. He knows she is when he hears a soft mewl come from her. 


Elliot begins to work into her, slowly upping the pace until he’s moving in and out of her with such vigor that the water in the tub is splashing. Some falls over the tub and into the floor.


She doesn’t say a word, but he can hear her — whimpers and moans filling the small bathroom. 


“Shit …” Elliot hums, both hands bracing on either side of her hips. He leans forward some, nearly sliding — but one hand flies out to brace himself on the wall of the tub. “You feel amazing. So good.” Elliot huffs, his hips slapping against hers. 


She says nothing. She’s so quiet it worries him, so he leans forward and realizes she’s holding her breath. Elliot slows down tremendously, his hips almost coming to a dead stop. 


“Breathe, baby …” He reaches forward and brushes some of the wet hair from her face. “Breathe …” 


Olivia gasps out, brown eyes opening and cornering at him halfway. He smirks. 


“Gotta remember to breathe.” He teases her, kissing the side of her cheek. 


Nothing. Olivia pushes her hips backwards against him. He picks up his pace again. The sounds of wet skin slapping against each other and water thrashing against the tub fills the room. 


“I …” Olivia finally speaks up, but it comes out more like a moan than anything. 


“Are you close?” Elliot asks.


She nods, head resting against one of her hands. 


Elliot grins, rather pleased with himself that he’s able to make her come so quickly for him. He leans forward, aiming to finish the job. He presses his mouth to her ear. 


“That’s my girl, come for me. Wanna feel you come around my-“


“Oh …” 


“Come around my full cock. It’s ready for you, that’s what you want isn’t it? For it to fill you up?” Elliot asks. She simply nods, eyes shut tight — mouth open against the back of her hand.


“Gonna give it to you right now just …” Elliot thrusts forward. It’s rough. Hard. But he read the room and he knows what makes her tick. “Ask for it.” He pants, ready to let go himself. 


Please …” Olivia cries out. 


One more jolt forward and he begins to let go. She comes with him — so hard that her hand comes from the edge of the tub and accidentally jerks down a nearby towel. 


Uhhhhh …” Is all that leaves her. 


Elliot throws his head back — his face twitching into a series of expressions as he lets go inside her. He feels her flutter and clutch around him — her thighs shake and her hips jolt backwards against him. 


By the time she comes to, she’s so tired from being up most of the night — she could’ve passed out right then and there. But she feels his arms around her and the soft kisses he adorns her with on the back of her shoulders. Her back. Her neck. 


Only because of that, does she come back to her sweet place. 

. . . . . . . 

They stand with each other in the bathroom. A towel is wrapped around both of their bodies. Elliot’s is around his waist and Olivia’s is around her torso. He holds a third towel in his hand, unfolds it and begins drying her hair with it. He tousles the material against her head. When the blue material is no longer covering his view of her, he sees she’s scrunching her face. 


Elliot smiles softly down at her and steps a little closer to her. He leans forward and kisses the very tip of her nose, inciting a soft giggle from her. 


Vanilla.” She whispers. 


“Vanilla.” Elliot grins, wrapping both arms around her. 


. . . . . . . . . 

When it’s time for him to go, she leads him towards the door. 


“When can I come back?” Elliot asks, blue eyes staring down at her. 


Olivia goes quiet, giving a soft shrug. She’s dressed now, wrapped up in a fuzzy pink cardigan. 


“I think for now, this is a one time thing. Let’s just … keep meeting somewhere else, okay?” Olivia asks, fingers fidgeting with one another. 


Elliot narrows his eyes at her for a moment. 


“Don’t go getting scared on me, Benson.” Elliot whispers. 


“Don’t go getting soft on me, Stabler.” Olivia retorts. 


“Too late.” Elliot smirks, leaning in and kissing her on the cheek. “Call me.” 


“I will.” Olivia agrees, opening the door for him and stepping aside. Their eyes remain locked on one another until he’s gone and disappeared around the corner of the hallway of her apartment building. She shuts the door and takes a deep breath, where she then goes over to her couch and sits down. 


Olivia stares off, thinking to herself. She’s almost ashamed to admit to herself that she already misses him. Her focus drifts down to the notepad that’s on the coffee table that she usually uses for work. A yellow legal pad, with some notes scribbled on it. 


She reaches for it. 

. . . . . . 

“So where’d you go today?” Kathy asks, coming from the bathroom and into the bedroom. She’s just finished brushing her hair and is ready for bed. “I know you weren’t working. I called. Thought maybe at first you’d asked for a shift as a … distraction.” She clears her throat. 


“I just drove around for a while.” Elliot replies, sitting on the foot of the bed. 




“For six hours?” Kathy asks. 


Elliot doesn’t say anything at first. He’s thinking up a lie. “Sat in church for a while.” He finally says, a flood of guilt washing over him for bringing God into it. But she would believe that. 


“Oh …” Kathy’s voice softens. “I was thinking we could go to the funeral home tomorrow. Start with the arrangements.” 


“Yeah …” Elliot sighs, reaching up and running his hand over his face. 


Kathy crawls into bed and scoots up behind him. He tenses when she wraps her arms around him and begins placing kisses along the side of his neck. He hears her sniff and pull back a little. 


“What is that?” Kathy asks with a soft laugh.


“What’s what?” Elliot asks. 


“Did you …” Kathy leans forward, smelling his skin again. “Did you switch soap? Or shampoo? It smells like …” She smells again. “Strawberries or … no, cherries?” She laughs again. 


She’s completely fucking clueless. 


Elliot’s heart sinks.


He smells like her, and in a bold act of wanting to smell what she’s smelling — her, he brings his arm up to his nose and smells. 


“Same thing I’ve been using.” Elliot whispers. 


“Hm … I like it.” Kathy rubs his bare chest with her hands. “It’s been a while you know … maybe we could …” She kisses the shell of his ear. 


Elliot’s expression fades completely. 


“Um …” Elliot stands up — breaking away from her grasp. “Not tonight. Sorry. Just got a lot on my mind.” Elliot states. “I think I’m going to go get some air actually … in the yard.” He points towards the bedroom door, but he’s already making his way towards it. 


Kathy sits on the foot of the bed, dumbfounded. 


Elliot, in that moment, decides that the mere thought of sleeping with her. The thought of touching her … 


Is like cheating on Olivia with his wife. 

Chapter Text

Elliot kisses his way up Olivia’s back, slowly. She hums as she lies there on her stomach, enjoying the feeling of his lips on her back. But when he starts with the light fingertip touches, she lets out a deep sigh. 


“You trying to seduce me or put me to sleep?” Olivia teases, half of her face buried in the pillow. “Because if it’s both, I can tell you as a SVU Detective that is very illegal.” She jokes, a smirk gracing her lips. Her eyes are closed.


“Seduce you, always. I never want you to sleep again.” Elliot teases. 


“I love sleep. I prefer it over sex, actually. One day, when you get to be my age, you’ll understand that mentality.” Olivia giggles.


He comes up to the very back of her neck and places an open mouthed kiss there. “I’ve got over ten years on you. I think the alcohol is talking.” Elliot kisses the shell of her ear and reaches for the bottle of cheap wine on the bedside table. He takes a whiff of it and makes a face. 


“I didn’t have that much … I’m fully alert, thank you.” Olivia turns over on her back, pulling the sheet up around her bare chest. 


Elliot takes a swig of the wine.


“How are you going to explain that?” Olivia cocks an eyebrow. “When you go home and you’re … staggering and … dismantled.” She laughs, raising both arms up over her head. 


“I come home like that anyways.” Elliot smirks, bringing the bottle to her lips. 


Olivia side-eyes him and takes the bottle with a quick clutch, then tips it upwards towards her lips. She takes a drink of the wine and sits it back on the bedside table. 


“I’m leaving when you can’t get it up.” Olivia insists, closing her eyes and sticking her nose in the air. She turns away from him — resisting the urge to burst into laughter. 


“You wouldn’t.” Elliot narrows his eyes, reaching to clutch his chest.


“I would, actually.” No she wouldn’t. 


“I don’t believe you …” Elliot grins, leaning down to kiss the side of her neck. He reaches behind her ear in the spot he knows she’s ticklish in and begins to nuzzle his nose into the area. 


“Stop!” Olivia cackles and writhes, her hands flying flat against his chest. She gives him a light push forward until he’s on his back but the moment she goes to move on top of him — he playfully pushes her back down and crawls on top of her. 


“I know all your spots.” Elliot grins. 


“Of my nerves.” Olivia rolls her eyes, crossing her arm over her bare chest. 


“Nah, I know your favorite spots.” Elliot insists, pulling the beige motel sheets further away from her. 


Olivia knows where this is going, so she sits up a little so she’s somewhat resting against the headboard. “Show me.” She states, reaching for the wine bottle and taking a sip. She holds the bottom of the bottle against her stomach, resting it there as she watches Elliot scoot his way down the bed. He pushes her legs apart and she opens them wide, bringing them into her stomach practically. 


“Eager.” Elliot grins. 


“Just making it easier for you to … show me.” Olivia smirks, a smug look on her face. 


Mhm.” Elliot rolls his eyes and leans forward, where he begins to kiss the inside of her left thigh. “You like it when I …. Kiss right here.” Elliot places a deep, open mouthed kiss over the spot he usually does — funnily enough, there’s a mark there already from him that hasn’t healed completely yet. 


“No more hickeys.” Olivia whines, wiggling her hips down. “It’s annoying trying to cover them up.” She adds. 


“Well, nobody else is seeing them here, so … free reign.” Elliot smirks, mouth open and already sucking against the spot he’s just kissed. 


Olivia’s eyes roll back slightly and she places the wine bottle on the bedside table. Her breathing becomes more and more erratic. She can feel his tongue drag out against the skin there, teasingly. 


“Love how easily you get turned on for me.” Elliot huffs against her skin, moving to her other thigh. He kisses in another particular spot that makes her hips buck upwards. The moment he smirks against her skin, she wants to call him a smug bastard but … the only thing she wants right now is his mouth on her. Her mind is a little hazy from the wine they’ve consumed, so she can’t figure out if she’s high on that, or him. Probably him. 


Olivia takes a deep breath and opens her eyes to look down at him. “Mhm, just for you …” She nods, egging him on. She lifts herself up closer to his mouth, completely sliding down from the headboard in the process. 


“Tell me how bad you want my tongue. How badly you want me to fuck you with my fingers …” Elliot husks, blue eyes staring up at her. 


Olivia looks down at him, cocking a brow. “Van—“




Nillaaaa.” She sings, cackling. 


Stubborn woman. 


Elliot rolls over onto his back and draws a deep breath. She’s clearly pleased with herself because she’s still laughing. Could be the wine. But he’s pretty sure she’s laughing at him. 


“What’s so funny?” Elliot asks, laying far enough down in the bed that he has to look up at her.


Olivia crawls down to him and lays her head on his chest. She’s still giggling — and it dawns on him that when she’s had a little too much to drink, she gets the giggles. 


“Just lay with me.” Olivia whispers, snuggling up to his side. “You don’t have to make me feel good to have me stay.” She says, snaking an arm around him. 


Her words, as simple as they were, incite a huge smile on his lips. Elliot wraps both arms around her naked form and holds onto her. “I lo—“ 


“Sssh …” Olivis grins, placing her finger against his lip. “Not yet …”


Elliot cocks an eyebrow down at her. The room falls silent and he feels her relax against his side. 


“I have your letter.” She whispers, lips nuzzling against his peck. 






“I want to read it.” Elliot states, going to sit up. 


“Not now.” Olivia shakes her head with a laugh. 


“Well you’ve mentioned it and now that’s all I’m going to be able to think about.” Elliot states, “C’mon … let me read it.” He says. 


“You’re an impatient man.” Olivia smirks, rolling over on her back. Elliot sits up. 


“Very.” Elliot agrees.


Olivia sighs and sits up. She crawls from the bed and reaches for his shirt, which lays in a pile on the floor. She slips it on and then goes over to her leather jacket that lays over one of the chairs in the motel room. She fishes into the pocket and pulls out an envelope. Olivia makes her way back over to the bed and crawls in, handing the letter to him. 


“I wish you’d wait.” She whispers, already turning red. 


“What’s in it?” Elliot furrows his eyebrows, wondering why she’s being so shy about it. 


Olivia throws herself down onto the bed and buries her face in the pillow. 


Elliot pulls back the envelope flap and pulls the letter out. It’s folded neatly, in the very particular way she folds them — always. He pulls it open, almost like an accordion, and begins to read … 

“El,” Elliot begins, smiling from ear to ear. 


Don’t read it out loud!” Olivia’s voice is muffled by the pillow. She feigns a cry. 


Elliot grins and makes his way up to the head of the bed, where she lays. He lays down beside her. 


“I don’t like you right now.” Olivia states — voice still muffled. 


“El,” Elliot clears his throat. “Watching you lose someone was one of the hardest things I’ve ever …” He trails off, his expression fading somewhat. “One of the hardest things I’ve ever seen. But while you …” Elliot stops himself. He stops reading aloud, because her words are already affecting him in such a way. 


But while you cried in my arms, I don’t think I’ve ever felt closer to another person before. I’ve tried to be that close before and it’s never worked. I always thought sex was the way to do that. The way to be close to someone in some kind of ultimate way but I think I was wrong. You let me be close to you in a way that I’ve never experienced before and ever since then, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about being close to you. In that way. I probably sound rambly now, don’t I? What are you doing to me, vanilla boy? 


Elliot smiles softly. 


I want to be close to you, Elliot. But if I let myself do that, let you give what I know you want to give, I’m afraid when you take it back it’s going to really break me. I can’t handle that. I’m afraid that you could hurt me if you tried. I don’t think you would intentionally but … I don’t know. Don’t laugh at me, okay? I don’t like it. 


Elliot closes the letter and stares off for a moment. He turns to look at her but her face is still buried in the pillow — but he can see one black lined brown eye peeking out of a clunk of hair at him. 


He draws his fist into a knocking gesture and taps his knuckles gently against her lower back. 


“What are you doing?” Olivia asks. 


Elliot smirks — coming up a little further and knocking again. 


“Olivia …” Elliot knocks again, softly. 


“What?” Olivia laughs. 


Elliot comes up just between her shoulder blades and knocks again. 


“Let me in …” Elliot whispers.


The room falls quiet. Olivia moves her face out of the pillow and slowly sits up. She reaches for his face with her hands and leans in, pressing her mouth to his. Their kiss is soft, yet firm. 


“If you hurt me.” Kiss. “I’ll …” Kiss. “Put your balls in a blender.” Kiss


Elliot’s eyes widen momentarily, but she feels him smile against her lips. 


“And they say romance is …” Kiss. “Dead.” Elliot says. 


She pulls away. 


“I love—“ Elliot starts to say. 


“Say it when we’re completely sober. And I’ll say it back ….” Her voice trails off into a whisper, brown eyes searching his blue ones. 


“… So we know we really mean it.” 

Chapter Text

It’s evening, a week later, and Olivia waits for him outside of the motel room door this time. When she sees him make his way towards her from his car, her face lights up and she smiles broadly and shrugs her shoulders upwards in an excited motion. 


Elliot, who is chewing gum, makes his way over to her – his smile is just as big, and he’s just as pleased to see her. 


“Hey.” Elliot moves his gum to one side of his mouth. 


“Hi.” Olivia’s voice is a little quiet. She’s holding a plastic grocery bag in her hands. 


“Why aren’t you inside?” Elliot laughs, fidgeting with his car keys between his fingers. He’s wearing his work uniform still. Hasn’t been off very long. 


“Just waiting for you.” Olivia smiles, leaning against the frame. 


“Getting soft on me, Benson?” Elliot smirks, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her against him. 


Olivia doesn’t reply, she simply rolls her eyes upwards and he uses the moment to pull her into a kiss. Olivia snakes one arm around his neck – the other still dangling the bag at her side. 


“Mm …” Elliot hums. “What’s in the bag?” 


“It’s a surprise …” Olivia whispers, biting down on her lower lip. 


“Oh?” Elliot laughs. “We should go inside then.”


Olivia grins and brings the motel key out of her pocket. She slides the key into the lock and turns the knob, pushing the door of the motel room open. It’s still barely light outside, so the room is illuminated very little. 


She walks in first, swinging the plastic bag back and forth. He hears something jingling around inside, and now – he’s curious to know what’s in there. Whatever it is, he knows it’s heavy because the back dips down in a V at the bottom. 


Olivia turns around and waits until Elliot shuts the door and locks it behind him. Their eyes lock and she stares him down for a moment before walking just a few feet ahead of where she is, until she’s standing at the foot of the bed. 


“What’s in the bag?” Elliot asks again, eyebrow cocked. 


Olivia smirks and holds the back out towards the bed. But instead of taking the time to take everything out, she simply begins to shake it loose – spilling the contents onto the bed. 




Sleeping mask. 


Whipped cream in a can. 


Elliot raises both brows in surprise, a devilish little grin curling on his lips. “Oh?” He asks, taking a few steps towards her. 


“Oh.” Olivia grins. “ I heard you liked it whipped .” She adds innocently. 


Elliot takes a deep breath. 


“I do.” He licks his lips, looking her up and down. “That’s what you want?” Elliot asks, making sure she’s okay with being bound. 




“I trust you.” She smiles faintly. “I want it.” 


Elliot stares at her for a moment, blue eyes cold and icy blue. But they burn for her. 


The room falls quiet again. Olivia moves a little closer to him, brown eyes searching his face. They linger over his lips. “It’s been a rough week. I want you to take my clothes off … put these on,” Olivia picks the cuffs up and spins them around her index finger “… and—”

. . . . .  Stabler Home . . . . . . 

Fuck me.” Kathy lets out a dramatic sigh. Another pair of shorts completely ruined by grass stains. “Dickie! What have I told you about rolling around outside in your good clothes? I’m telling your dad when he gets home.” Kathy states. Dickie is too busy running around like a chicken with its head cut off to even remotely take in Kathy’s threat. 


She shakes her head and begins picking through the laundry again. 

. . . . . . Back at the motel . . . . . . 

“Did you read my letter?” Elliot asks, grinning from ear to ear. Olivia sits in the middle of the bed, her back to the wrought iron headboard. There’s a black railing over top of the upholstery piece. Elliot spins the cuffs around his finger, just like she had moments before. 


She’s stripped down to nothing but a matching black lingerie set. Tight against her breast. The underwear themselves are barely a string. She always wears something nice for him. Sometimes, there’s nothing at all underneath her clothes and often he prefers it that way. 


“I read it. Getting a little bold aren’t we, vanilla boy?” Olivia teases, holding her wrist out for Elliot. 


He slaps one of the cuffs on her wrist, “Both or just one?” Elliot asks if she wants both hands cuffed. She raises her other hand above her head and Elliot takes that as a sign that she in fact, wants both hands bound. 


“Jesus … okay.” Elliot clears his throat and laces the cuffs through the railing of the bed and brings them so they loop around it. He puts the other cuff on her free wrist.


“Did you read mine?” Olivia peers up at him. One knee is pressed into the mattress at her side, so he slides off and back into a standing position. 


“Mhm.” Elliot’s face practically turns red. 


She cocks a brow. “What’d you think?” 


Elliot presses his lips together and comes to stand at the foot of the bed. He unbuttons his shirt and lets it fall to the floor – leaving him in nothing but a tank. He takes that off too though. Leaves the pants. He’s not ready to take those off yet. 


Elliot doesn’t answer her. But it doesn’t take Olivia long to fill in the blanks. 


“Did you touch yourself?” Olivia asks, tilting her head down as both arms are still raised above her head. She scoots down a little further in the bed to get more comfortable, and crosses one leg over the other. 


Elliot smiles – almost bashfully. 


She giggles. 


“Bad.” Olivia grins. 


“Isn’t that why you wrote it? So I’d think of you when I …” Elliot trails off. 


“Well, is that why you wrote mine?” Olivia asks, tilting her head.


Elliot picks up the sleeping mask. He looks at the window. The blinds are drawn, but he can see what’s left of the sun poking out. “I may have thought about you laying in bed … touching yourself to what I wrote.” He confesses. 


Olivia rubs her legs together and he knows what that means as sure as his name is Elliot Stabler. 


“Already getting all wet for me?” Elliot asks. 


“Shut up.” Olivia huffs. 


“Ah-ah-ah,” Elliot wiggles his index finger at her. 


Olivia cocks an eyebrow. 


“Only one of us is cuffed right now.” Elliot teases, making his way over to her yet again. He places the black sleeping mask over her eyes, watching curious brown ones disappear. 


She licks her lips. 


“Elliot …” 

. . . . . . Stabler Home . . . . . . 

“ … Stabler.” Kathy huffs, digging out loose change in two separate pairs of pants. The man is terrible about emptying his pockets. Always has been. She shakes them loose and tosses them into the washer, one by one. Adds some soap. 


Maureen peeks her head into the laundry room. “Mom?” 


“Yeah?” Kathy asks. 


“Can I go over to Jenna’s house tonight for dinner? She wants to study for our test together.” Maureen states. 


“Test? What test?” Kathy asks. 


“Math. On Friday. I told you about this like, yesterday.” Maureen states. 


Kathy thinks for a moment. 


“Unload the dishwasher first.” Kathy agrees, shaking a second pair of pants. 


Maureen smiles widely before spinning around and taking off towards the kitchen. Kathy smiles and picks up another pair of pants … 

. . . . . . Back at the motel . . . . . 

Elliot stands at the foot of the bed, staring at a blindfolded and cuffed Olivia Benson. She’s fidgeting around a lot and in some kind of strange way, it excites Elliot. She’s an impatient woman, so he wonders why she would even suggest giving him so much power. 


He takes a deep breath, standing there in only his black pants, and begins pulling on his belt. He unbuckles it with one hand, and pulls it so quickly from the loops it almost makes a whipping sound. 


Olivia jumps, a grin forming on her lips shortly after. 


“You like that?” Elliot asks.


They’re clearly getting a kick out of their little game. 


“Careful, Stabler.” She huffs a piece of hair away from her wine colored lips. 


Elliot unzips his pants and pushes them down over his hips. Next goes his underwear. 


“Are you naked?” Olivia asks, her tone almost comical. 


“As the day I was born.” Elliot teases, reaching for the can of whipped cream. “Hmm …” He pops the cap and opens his mouth, filling it with the dessert topping. “Tastes like revenge.” He adds with a laugh, his mouth full. 


“Revenge?” Olivia scowls. 


Twinkies .” Elliot replies, crawling onto the bed towards her. 


Olivia uncrosses her legs and parts them, ready for anything he has for her. 


“If you wanna call that getting even then go for it.” Olivia smirks, fingers fidgeting – hands above her head. 


Elliot drops the whipped cream on the bed beside Olivia and reaches for her legs. He pulls her down completely until she’s flat on her back. She lets out a gasp, loud and ebullient. He reaches for the whipped cream again and sprays a small bit into his mouth, where he then hovers above her and presses mouth against hers. The whipped cream spreads across her lips and he wastes no time to kiss it away. 


“Mm …” Olivia smirks. 


Elliot aims the whipped cream nozzle over the mounds of her breasts and sprays. She shivers a little. “Gonna need a shower I see.” She huffs. 


“Don’t you always?” Elliot smiles, leaning down and dragging his tongue out across her flesh – scooping up white fluffy clouds of cream in the process. 


She moans, already writhing. 


“Patience.” Elliot’s chin is covered in whipped cream. “Gonna taste every square inch of you.” He promises. 

. . . . . . . Stabler home . . . . . . . .

Kathy shuts the lid of the washer, then begins preparing another load. She digs through dirty t-shirts, underwear, blankets, the works – separating everything into piles. Lights from darks. She comes across another pair of Elliot’s pants, and gives them a little shake. 


Change jiggling. 


Kathy rolls her eyes and sticks her hand into the pocket, fishing around for the change. 


But she feels something else. 

. . . . . . Back at the motel . . . . . . . 

Elliot Stabler usually stays true to his word. Her body is sticky. Red from being so aroused. He’s sprayed her stomach. Licked it off, causing a cry the moment he dipped his tongue into her navel. Her hips. The insides of her thighs. Legs. Arms. Neck. Everywhere but where she really needs him. 


He’s left her underwear on. Those stringy little black things that keep him from burying himself deep inside her.


“Elliot …” Olivia moans, lifting her hips up from the mattress. “Come on … please?” She’s breathless, and has bitten on her lip so much that there’s lipstick smeared just below her bottom one. 


Elliot reaches down between their bodies and begins stroking himself. “Is this what you want?” He asks, cocking a brow. 


“Vanilla.” Olivia cracks a huge grin. 


Elliot’s expression drops. 


She sighs. “Vanilla. You know what? Take these off, I’ll do it myself.” Olivia eggs him on. 


Elliot narrows his blue eyes down at her and reaches forward, pushing the mask up on her forehead so she can see. 


“Vanilla?” Elliot asks, almost as if he’s asking her to reconsider. 


Vanilla.” Olivia’s smile twists upwards wickedly. 


Elliot nudges himself between her legs. But rather than pull her underwear down like a civilized person —


“Elliot, don’t you fucking–” 




He rips one of the strings off of her hips, loosening her underwear so they’re hanging on by the other hip. 


“You son of a bitch.” Olivia laughs that laugh. 


Elliot smirks. He rips the other side open and pulls them out from underneath her quickly, and tosses them behind his head. 

. . . . . Stabler Home . . . . . 

Kathy clutches the letter in her hands, staring down at it with one hand over her mouth. There’s tears in her eyes as she reads, line by line, what’s written in neat cursive handwriting on the paper.

When you’re inside of me, and you’re going so hard I can barely breathe … God, Elliot. That’s what I want. The next time I see you, I want you to fuck me so hard I forget my name. Can you do that, baby? Sometimes I lay in bed at night, thinking about how full I am when you’re doing that. I want you right now. Want your mouth on me. Your fingers inside me. Your cock. 


“I …” Kathy drops the letter, “Oh my–”

. . . . . . Back at the motel . . . . . . 


“God! Fuck!” Olivia’s hands are drawn into fists as Elliot pounds into her. So hard that the headboard knocks against the wall. Elliot, like some kind of uncaged animal, pulls her hips towards him and repositions himself so he can thrust at a different angle. 


“Shit …” He groans, skin slapping against skin. 


“Don’t stop!” She whines, staring up at him – brown eyes dark and glazed over. He can feel a rush of warmth flood between their bodies, soaking their skin and the bedding beneath them. 


“Not going to …” Elliot pants, shaking his head quickly. He falls forward, catching himself with one hand that’s placed on the pillow her head rests against. Her arms are still above her head, balled into fists – damned near white. Elliot rocks into her harder, if possible, inciting a series of curse words from her. 


There she goes. The little incoherencies. One that sounds like “fuhshit.” which makes him laugh. 


“Look at me.” Elliot groans, nearing his own climax. 


So she does, her chest rising and falling so quickly she thinks she may just die right there. “Van … vanilla.” Olivia cackles, in the midst of her moaning. 


Elliot cocks an eyebrow, taking that for what it was. A challenge. He stops long enough to pull her legs up so far that they’re hooked on his shoulders. 


Elliot!” Olivia mewls, her expression contorting into pure pleasure. 


In, out. In, out. In, out. The headboard knocks so hard against the wall that — 


Knock, knock, knock — on the wall.


“Come with me baby.” Elliot ignores the pounding on the wall. He has more important matters to tend to. 


“I’m gonna come!” She cries, heels digging into his back. “I … uh … uhh !” 




“Shut up!” Elliot yells through the wall as he hovers above Olivia. 


Ssh ,” Olivia hushes him, “Focus on me.” She bounces her hips down against him, provoking a loud moan from him. He’s close. So close. Their bodies are slick against each other, soaked in her arousal. Her want for him. 


She comes first – her mouth falls open and she arches her back against him, her sticky chest pressing against his. The flutter, the warmth that radiates down his hard length … that’s all it takes. 


Olivia lets out a little whimper as she feels him leap. Spurt once, twice, until he’s emptying fully inside her. She accepts it all, legs still hooked over his shoulders. Elliot’s mouth falls onto hers, silencing them only for a moment before Olivia breaks away and cries out.




Very loud. 


Elliot!” Comes from her. Elliot responds with a little “Uhhh,” as he finishes, burying his face in her neck. 




Elliot raises up and she can tell right away that he’s pissed. 


“El, don’t …” Olivia pants. 


Elliot reaches up and pulls at the latches of the cuffs. Her hands fall from them, and she goes limp. The cuffs, however, still dangle from the railing of the bed. 


“Don’t, Elliot.” Olivia’s voice is firmer but he leans down to kiss her, silencing her. Elliot pulls himself from her gently, a wild look on his face. 


“Elliot, I’m serious.” Olivia warns, trying to muster the energy to sit up. Elliot is already looking for his pants. 


He slips them on in a hurry.


“Elliot!” Olivia yells, scrambling to get up – find whatever she can to cover herself to go after him.


But their door is already swung open — nighttime flowing in and drowning out the orange-ish light in the room from the bedside lamp. 


Elliot practically prances to the room next door to theirs and casually taps on it with two knuckles. He wiggles his shoulders around and waits. 


The door opens. A man, beer belly and all, stands there with an unamused look on his face. 


“I get that you’re doin’ your whor—” The older man slurs his words. 




Elliot hits the older man so hard that it nearly knocks him off his feet. Blood spews from his nose, and the man is quite literally so stunned – all he does is stand there in shock. 


“You fuckin’ hit me.” The man looks down at his fingers, which are covered with blood from his nose. 


“Yous lucky I don’t kill ya. ” Elliot points at him, nose snarled. 


“Elliot!” Olivia swings around the doorframe of their room. 


Elliot looks to Olivia, who stands there a complete mess. Her top is on backwards. Her pants are barely fastened. Her hair is frizzed up in the back and she looks exactly like what they’ve been doing. 


Elliot cracks a smirk, waving his hand. 


“I need some ice.” 


“I’m calling … the police.” The man stammers over his words. He’s clearly drunk. 


“She is the police, pal.” Elliot states, practically guiding her back into the motel room. Olivia is still taking everything in, yet she grabs Elliot around the waist anyways. 


The room falls quiet the moment he kicks the door shut with his foot. She stares up at him, brown eyes wide. Her cheeks are flushed. 


“I love you.” Elliot says breathlessly. His knuckles are already bruising. 


Olivia raises both eyebrows. 


For a moment, Elliot thinks he may have just fucked up. 


But when a grin curls on her lips and she wraps both arms around his neck, he releases a small laugh. 


“I love you too, you crazy son of a bitch.” Olivia plants her mouth on his. 


The handcuffs, no longer in use, dangle from the railing of the bed. 

Honey, I laugh when it sinks in

A pillar I am of pride

Scarcely can speak for my thinking

What you'd do to me tonight

Now that the evening is slowing

Now that the end is in sight

Honey, it's easier knowing

What you'd do to me tonight

Chapter Text

“Who is she?” 




“Who the fuck is she, Elliot?” Kathy asks, her voice raising. 


Elliot sits on the couch in his living room. The kids are upstairs in bed and he’s just came through the door. From seeing her, to make matters worse. He sits with his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped into fists as his chin rests against them. 


“You don’t know her.” Elliot replies. 


“What’s her name?” Kathy asks, her voice softening.


Elliot shakes his head no once – as if to tell her he’s not giving that piece of information up. 


“What. Is. Her. Fucking. Name? You owe me a goddamn answer.” Kathy hisses, standing on the other side of the coffee table across from him. 


“You’re going to wake the kids.” Elliot clears his throat. 


Kathy goes quiet for a moment. Puts her hands on her hips and lets out a less than amused laugh. She raises the letter to read from it again and Elliot buries his face in the palms of his hands. 


I want your mouth on me. You drive me crazy. ” Kathy reads the letter aloud. “What does this even mean? Vanilla, baby. Huh? What the fuck is that? Some kind of fucked up …” Kathy throws the letter at him. “Fucking love langauge?”


Elliot remains quiet, blue eyes peering up at her. 


“Get out. It’s bad enough that … this is how you’ve been spending your time. But the fact that you can’t even be man enough to tell me about her …” Kathy shakes her head. “How long were you going to keep her a secret, huh?”


“I was thinking about telling you.”

. . . . . . . . . .

Olivia lies in her bed. Asleep. Deeply asleep, actually because she’s snoring into her pillow. The room is dark, with only a glimmer of moonlight coming through the window and hitting her bed. The moment her phone begins to ring, she stirs.




Noooo ….” Olivia moans as she slowly sits up. She reaches for the phone and flips it open, pressing it to her ear. “Benson.” She says groggily. 


“Liv?” His voice comes in clear. 


“Elliot?” Olivia asks, scowling. “What time is it?” She looks over to the clock. 


5:30 am. 


“It’s early I know …” 


“I just got through the door about an hour ago.” Olivia yawns, sitting up and running her fingers through her frizzed out hair. 


“Can we meet? I have a room already.” Elliot says. He sounds funny and she picks up on it right away. 


“Um …” Olivia chews on her bottom lip before releasing a minimal sigh. “Yeah. Okay. Let me … where are you?” 

. . . . . . . . . . 

You were thinking about telling her? ” Olivia asks, pacing back and forth. Elliot sits on the foot of the bed of his motel room. He’s been here for two days and this is the first time he’s seen Olivia since their last incident … involving cuffs. 


“I was going to bring it up to you first.” Elliot runs his fingers over the top of his head. “God, Liv … she’s not gonna let me see my kids again after this.” He groans and rubs his hand over his face. 


Olivia’s expression softens. “That’s not true. She’s angry right now, but … soon she’ll see that they’ll miss you and that they need you.” Tears fill her eyes. She’s done this. It’s her fault. She’s taken him away from his children, who ultimately, are innocent. 


Elliot looks up at her and reaches for her hand, pulling her down into his lap. “I should’ve come clean the moment I started having feelings for you. This is my fault.” He nods. 


“Elliot …” Olivia whispers, eyes focused down on the floor. “This is all so fucked up. We’re so fucked up. Maybe we should’ve just … left it at that one night. Or … maybe if I would’ve just not taken you to the motel after the bar we would ...”


“I wanted to come with you.” Elliot whispers, reaching out and stroking her cheek. 




“You didn’t tell her about me?” Olivia asks. 


“Trust me, I know Kathy. The moment she finds out who you are and what you do …” Elliot trails off. 


Olivia takes a deep breath and looks around the room. It’s a plain room but nicer than ones they’ve been in before. 


Olivia turns towards him more and wraps both arms around him, resting her chin in the crook of his neck. 


“Stay with me tonight?” Elliot whispers into her hair. 




“Maybe?” Elliot’s tone fluctuates playfully. 


She chuckles against him. “I’ll stay with you.”

. . . . . . . . . . . 

Blue eyes open, immediately coming to meet the sun as it pours into his room through the blinds. They do little to keep it out. His arm is slung around Olivia, and he thinks she’s still asleep. She’s not moving. But the moment he begins to make even the slightest of movement, he realizes she’s awake because … 


“I think if you go back to her and ask for forgiveness, and really mean it, she might take you back. Tell her you want to work on it.” Olivia says quietly. 




“What?” Elliot asks, still half asleep and not grasping exactly what she’s telling him. 


“Kathy. You should go back to her. Tell her you made a mistake.” Olivia says, keeping her back turned to him. She can’t look at him right now. 


Elliot sits up slowly and glances down at her in confusion. He’s still trying to gather his thoughts because clearly, she’s been laying here for a while in her own. 


“Liv … it’s over.” Elliot states. 


Olivia rolls over on her back finally to look up at him. “Is it? Elliot, what are we doing here? Really?” She asks. 


“Don’t be like that.” Elliot says, his voice soft as he looks down at her. 


“What? Realistic?” Olivia asks, brown eyes narrowed somewhat. “You have a family. And this … what we’ve been doing …” Olivia shakes her head quickly and sits up – swinging her legs over the side of the bed. 


“If you tell her that you just had a moment of weakness … and that you … thought about it and …” Olivia begins to stammer over her words as she makes her way into the bathroom to pee. She leaves the door cracked so she can continue to speak to him. “I just think maybe all the … drama could be avoided if you–”


Elliot pushes the bathroom door open and leans against the frame, staring down at her. 




She stares up at him and for a moment, the situation is almost comical. Her sitting on the toilet, peeing, and him standing there – looking at her like she’s a crazy person. 


“What the hell are you talking about?” Elliot asks, eyebrows furrowed into a tight knit. 


Olivia rolls her eyes and reaches for the toilet paper. She tears off a piece and wipes then stands up. Flushes. She pulls her underwear and makes her way over to the sink to wash her hands. 


“Are you really getting freaked out because I’m … free?” Elliot laughs. 


“You men and your freedom. ” Olivia huffs, rinsing her hands off and turning the water off. 


“God, you are …” Elliot lets out another laugh and rubs his hand over his face. 


“Don’t laugh at me.” Olivia says, annoyance obvious in her voice as she brushes past him. She’s getting ready to leave, that’s clear. She’s looking around the room for her things.


“Where are you going?” Elliot asks. 


“Work, Elliot. Shouldn’t that be where you’re going too?” Olivia asks, searching around the bed for her pants. They didn’t have sex last night, but she had kicked them off in order to get more comfortable and wasn’t really sure where they had landed. Finally, she finds them, nearly pushed underneath the bed. 


Olivia slips them on. 


Elliot scratches at his bare chest and sniffs. He’s still adjusting to being awake. “How about we slow down for a minute. Because what I think you’re suggesting, is not how–”


“Maybe um …” Olivia’s voice shakes as she searches for a purse she didn’t even bring. Once she realizes she didn’t bring it, she stops and keeps her back to him. “Maybe we’re in over our heads with this situation. I mean really. What do we know about each other apart from … what we like sexually or … the few things we know about each other from the letters?” She asks. 


“I know you.” Elliot replies simply. 


“You think you know me. But … maybe now that you can really know me you’ll wish that you didn’t.” Olivia says.


There it is. Fear. 


“Liv …”




“Nah, let me talk.” Elliot waves his hand. 


She turns around, finally, to face him. 


“You’re telling me that you want things to go back to how they were? Before we ever … knew each other? Is that what you’re getting at?” Elliot asks. 


Olivia stares at him for a moment and briefly, he sees such a look come over her face that makes him want to reach out for her and hold her. He’s not sure exactly what it is but it’s childlike in nature. Almost like she’s been scolded. Or like something he’s said has hurt her feelings, even though he knows he hasn’t. 


“I-I don’t know …” Olivia scratches the back of her neck. 


“Well, do you not want to be with me?” Elliot asks. 


“Are we even together?” Olivia asks. 




“Wow, Olivia.” Elliot laughs, turning around briefly. He runs his hand over his mouth, his chin out of annoyance. 


“The letters … we can’t even talk to each other face to face, Elliot. Not really. Everything we’ve ever said to each other that’s … personal has been on a piece of paper.” Olivia explains. 


Elliot spins around to meet her. Blue eyes lock on brown ones. 


“I want to talk to you, Olivia. But you’re so …” Elliot flattens his hand and waves it in front of his own face. 




“You started the letters.” Olivia whispers. 


And you won’t end them.” Elliot retorts quickly. Almost viciously. 


Silence. Olivia jolts back as if he’s said something to offend her. 


“It’s easier for me that way …” She stares down at her hands. 




“If that’s what you want, then leave.” Elliot states boldly. “If you don’t want to try to make this real with me, then turn around and walk out that door. But don’t for one second blame it on me, Olivia. I’ve made it clear to you that I want you. That I love you.”


She looks up at him, brown eyes wide. 


“It’ll be your choice.” Elliot whispers, blue eyes lingering heavily on her. The sun moves up further past the window, casting a different shade into the room. It becomes brighter, somehow – orangeish and yellow in hue. “But just so we know where we stand, my choice is you. Always you.” Elliot adds.


Olivia’s eyes become glassy. She doesn’t cry, no. She won’t let herself in the moment, anyways. 


“You don’t want her still?” Olivia asks, her voice in a whisper. It cracks slightly. She feels guilty for even asking. 


Elliot shakes his head no. 


“I …” Olivia looks back down at her hands. “I don’t want you to lose your kids because of me.” 


“I won’t.” Elliot shakes his head. 




Elliot makes his way over to Olivia and wraps both arms around her. She leans in against him and rests her head on his chest. 


“I love you.” She mumbles against his chest. Elliot smiles widely against the top of her forehead, which his mouth rests on. He places one, then two kisses there. 


I love you.”


They stay like that for a moment before Olivia pulls away. “I do have to go though.” She states, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. 


“Let me drive you to work?” Elliot asks. 


“My car is here.” She chuckles. 


“Guess you’ll have to come back later to get it.” Elliot smirks. 


“Sly, Stabler. Real sly.” 

. . . . . . . . . . 

Elliot pulls up to the precinct and looks over at her with, frankly, a pretty goofy smile. 


“You let me drive you to work.” Elliot grins. 


Olivia rolls her eyes. “You’re a cheese ball.” She giggles, pushing the car door open and stepping out. She walks around the front of the car, to Elliot’s side. 


“Call me when you get off?” Elliot says, leaning forward a little so he can see her. 


“It might not be until late. Like really late. I could just take a ca–”


“Call me. I’ll come.” Elliot smiles, which incites a soft smile back from her. 


“Liv!” Calls a voice from behind her. Brian Cassidy jogs down the steps of the precinct. 


Elliot’s entire expression drops. 


“Who’s that?” He asks. 


Before Olivia can answer Elliot in private, Brian is already coming up to them. He’s out of breath and wiping his forehead. He’s holding a file in his hand. 


“What’s up?” Olivia asks, putting her hands on her hips. 


“I was just heading out. Been up all night.” Brian states, almost braggingly. 


“Ohh, okay.” Olivia nods. 


The awkwardness of the interaction makes Elliot narrow his eyes back and forth between Olivia and Brian. Which only makes him think one thing. 


“Well, Brian – I have to go inside so–”


“Who’s this?” Brian asks cheerfully, pointing to Elliot who sits there with a less than amused expression on his face. 


“Oh, Brian this is my–” 


“Boyfriend. I’m her boyfriend.” Elliot blurts out, extending his hand to shake Brian’s. 


Brian looks back and forth between Elliot and Olivia. His smile fades a little but Brian being Brian, he shrugs and takes Elliot’s hand — giving it a firm shake. He feels the wedding band. 


Oh. Okay.” Brian smiles, releasing his hand. “Well, Liv’s boyfriend–”


“My name is Elliot.” Elliot interjects. 




Olivia rubs the back of her neck with her hand – the wind picks up and blows her light gray blazer out. 


“Okay. Well, nice to meet you Liv’s boyfriend who’s name is Elliot.” Brian tries to shrug off Elliot’s rudeness with another joke. He clears his throat and looks back to Olivia. 


“Well, I’m gonna …” Brian points over to his car. “Alright. See ya.” Brian reaches out and squeezes Olivia’s shoulder. 


“Bye, Bri.” Olivia says, her voice quiet. She’s embarrassed – it’s clear by the redness on her cheeks. 


Elliot looks up at Olivia innocently. 


“Why’d you do that?” Olivia asks, staring down at him. 


“What?” Elliot asks, feigning confusion. 


“Why were you so rude to him?” Olivia asks. 




Elliot.” Olivia scolds. 


“Because I felt like it?” Elliot asks. It’s childish, he knows – but he can’t help himself when it comes to her. 


Olivia’s mouth falls open and she gives him quite the look. 


“You are …” 


Elliot smirks. 


“An arrogant son of a bitch.” Olivia scoffs and turns to stomp away from him. 


Elliot’s expression drops suddenly.


“Hey!” Elliot calls out to her. 


“Fuck you, Elliot.” Olivia calls out once she’s halfway up the steps, causing a couple of police officers that are coming out of the precinct to stop and look at them. 


Elliot stares at her from the car, watching as she reaches out for the handle of the precinct door. 


“But your arrogant son of a bitch, right?” Elliot calls out. 


Olivia turns around once more, but the expression on her face is less than thrilled. At first, anyways – until he flashes her a smile. 


She turns around before he can see her lips curl into a huge grin. 


He is her arrogant son of a bitch. 


But his abruptness stirs inside her. 


Because I felt like it.

Chapter Text

Two Week later.


A soft hum fills the air. Her voice is sweet when she hums like this. Though he’s learned from her singing in the shower that as soon as her mouth opens, she can’t carry a tune to save her life. He still hasn’t figured out what she’s humming, but she does it often. The same tune over and over. It could just be a self soothing song she made up, something to calm herself with. He’s not sure but he could listen to it all day. 


She sits there on the edge of the bed, in only a pair of gray cotton underwear. He lies there in the spot he fell asleep in the night before, blue eyes fixated on her. She turns her head just enough so that he can see her face. Her eyes are closed, dark eyelashes resting heavily on her flushed cheeks. The sun bounces off her face, illuminating her with an orange-ish glow.  


She’s stunning. 


Fuck, she’s stunning .


Olivia opens her eyes and turns her head over her shoulder to look at him. Chunks of messy dark hair fall into her face. Her mouth curls into a soft smile, the remnants of last night’s lipstick still hanging around on her plump lips. 


“Don’t get soft on me, Stabler.” She says to the man lying behind her. Her voice is hoarse, groggy. She sees the way he’s looking at her. The way he studies her. He’s been doing a lot of that lately. 

“Me? Soft?” Elliot laughs. 


 Olivia’s expression fades for a moment before a grin graces her lips. She turns around and crawls back into bed with him. He accepts her with both arms, wrapping them around her tightly.  


“You’re the softest man I’ve ever met.” Olivia whispers against his neck, placing a kiss there. There’s wine red little marks all over his neck from the night before. 


Silence fills the room. He doesn’t know whether to ask her if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. To be the softest man she’s ever met. Sometimes he feels like a concrete wall, laughing at people who slide down it on days when he’s feeling particularly vile enough to dampen them. 


“But a sweet place.” Olivia adds, her hand traveling down his bare chest. 


The motel room glistens in some strange way. The walls aren’t the cleanest, they need repainted. The navy comforter on the bed is dated, but clean. She could smell the tide on the pillowcase when her face was buried in it last night. 


A motorcycle blasts down the road near the motel, but neither of them jolt. They do nothing but lie there in each other’s arms. Mornings together are few and far between. Usually she has to go before he does, but this morning — happens to be a morning she has to herself that she decides to give him. 


Olivia’s eyes focus on her gun and badge, lying neatly on the bedside table. 


“Are you here?” Elliot asks. 


She smiles faintly. 


“Here.” Olivia snuggles into his chest. 


Another long silence fills the room as Elliot’s fingers dance on her back. He’s been in this room for weeks now and he’s just now starting to settle in. Olivia still won’t let him in her apartment. He’s asked twice, but there’s always a reason as to why here is better. 


He doesn’t fight too much on it. She’s been a little cranky lately and he’d rather not have her bite his head off. 


“Can I ask you something?” Elliot asks, putting his hand over hers, which lies on his bare chest. 


“Mmm …” Olivia nods, snuggling closer to him. 


“What’s that song you hum? The one you were just–”


“I don’t know what it is. My mom used to sing it to me when I was little. I think it’s from an old TV show or something she used to watch.” Olivia replies straight away, looking up at him a little. He peers down at brown eyes that stare back up at him. 


Elliot remains quiet. 


“She wasn’t always the way she was.” Olivia says softly. “We had our moments.” She adds. Another little sigh follows and she closes her eyes. “When I was a little girl,” Olivia begins, “She would take me to grand central station once a week because I was fascinated with the ceiling. I thought they were fish swimming around up there. She didn’t tell me they were constellations, so she just let me believe what I wanted.” Olivia giggles, and she can feel Elliot chuckle silently. 




“I’d sit there for so long … on the benches just … looking up until my neck hurt.” Olivia whispers. 


“We’ll have to go then.” Elliot replies, looking down at her. 


“Last time I went I was just about to join the academy.” Olivia says. 


“I like when you tell me things like this.” Elliot whispers down at her. 

“My dumb childhood stories?” Olivia laughs. 


“They’re not dumb. You know, when I was a kid my mom brought me out into a snow storm. She wasn’t doing very well at the time but … she lost control of the car and we ended up smashing into a streetlight. When the paramedics were there checking her and I out … I remember looking around at everything and thinking … with my, I’d say I was seven at the time,” Elliot laughs, “With my seven year old little brain that the city looked like a frozen lake. The ice was so thick on the street you could see your reflection in it.” Elliot smiles through his words.


Olivia looks up at him and raises an eyebrow. 


“Maybe your frozen lake was over my ceiling of fish.” She smiles sweetly. 


Elliot smiles back down at her, bringing his other hand to clasp against his own, forming a shell around her. 


“Another question.” Elliot asks. 




“Don’t get mad.” Elliot states. Her mind immediately goes to her not letting him spend the night at her apartment. 


“What is it?” Olivia asks, her tone changing. 


“That Brian guy … did you and him … were you …” 


Olivia sits up immediately, looking at Elliot with quite the expression. What the fuck? 


Elliot stares at her. He’s not taking his question back. 


“Are you serious right now?” Olivia laughs – not so amused. 


Elliot sits up, so that they come level with one another. 


“I don’t think that’s any of your business.” Olivia scoffs. 

“I just wanna … know.” Elliot says. Shut up, Elliot. Shut up. 


Olivia squints her eyes at him. Hard. Her eyebrows knit together, forming a soft knot in the center of her forehead. 


Only then does Elliot regret the question. 


“You wanna know my dating history?” Olivia asks. 


“I just–” 


“For what? So you can … be rude to every guy I’ve ever fucked?” Olivia asks with a laugh. 


“So you have. With him. Wait – how many guys do you still know that you’ve–” Elliot’s eyes widen. 


Olivia’s mouth flies open – pure shock twisting on her face. “You … ha!” She moves away from him when he reaches for her. “Wow.” Olivia puts both hands over her face. 


“Forget I asked.” Elliot puts his hands up defensively. 


Too late for that, Elliot.” Olivia hisses. “Where’s my shirt?” 


“How would I know?” Elliot asks, looking around the room. 


“You threw it.” Olivia huffs, getting up and wandering around the room. 


“Hey.” Elliot’s voice lowers. He stands to his feet and walks over to her, where he reaches out and takes her by the biceps. Olivia looks at him, her face still twisted up in anger. “I’m sorry. You’re right. That’s none of my business.” 


“No it’s not. You’re a jackass.” Olivia pouts. 


“I am.” Elliot smirks. 


“Don’t do that …” Olivia wiggles away from him. “You think you can fix everything by …” She waves her hand.




“I am sorry. I won’t ask again.” Elliot says, blue eyes peering down at her. 


Olivia looks over to the bedside table where her gun, badge, and his wedding band reside. 


The wedding band, to her knowledge, has been sitting there for the past few days. 

. . . . . . . . 

An hour later, Elliot is in the shower. Olivia sits on the edge of the bed, this time wearing his blue button up shirt. Her hands are braced on the edge of the bed as she stares straight ahead. Blankly at a closed blind. She turns her attention to the gold band sitting on the bedside table. Her gun and badge sit behind it and for a moment, she finds it a little funny that they’re in such close proximity to one another. Just a little.  


The longer she stares at it, the more something vicious stirs around inside her chest.


Olivia stands up and reaches for the ring, fidgeting it around between her fingers a few times before turning and walking into the bathroom with it. She pushes the door open, the sounds of the shower becoming heavier. 


“Change your mind about joining me?” Elliot asks, his eyes closed as he washes his hair. 


Olivia flings the wedding band into the toilet.




She flushes. 


Elliot jerks the shower curtain back quickly. Their eyes meet.


“What was that?” Elliot asks. 


Olivia crosses her arms. 


What was that?” He asks, turning the water off and stepping out of the shower. He reaches for the towel on the back of the toilet and wraps it around his waist. “ Olivia.” His tone changes. 


“I’m tired of looking at it.” Olivia says simply, before turning to go back into the bedroom. 


It dawns on him what she’s just flushed down the toilet. He leans in towards the toilet, looking into the bowl. It’s gone. Gone, gone. 


“Why in the hell did you do that?” Elliot asks. 


Olivia stops, her back still turned to him. She slowly begins to turn around and once Elliot sees her expression, he cocks his head back. “ Because I felt like it.” Her tone drops into a deep … almost comically scary tone. 


She repeated his words back at him.


Elliot stares at her. “What is wrong with you? You’ve been so …” Elliot waves his hand around. “Crabby.” 


“Crabby?” Olivia laughs, finally spotting her shirt lying over the small wooden chair by the door. 


“Crabby. Mean. Meaner than usual. ” Elliot states, holding the towel around his waist.




Olivia’s bottom lip begins to quiver, then suddenly, it hits her and she bursts into tears. 


“What’s going on?” Elliot asks, his tone softening. 


“I’m not keeping it.” She shakes her head, wiping her tears with a bent wrist. 


“Not keeping what?” Elliot asks, still obviously confused. 


Their eyes lock. 


Elliot’s mouth slowly begins to fall agape. 


“Oh.” He says.


Oh.” Olivia mimics him and shakes her head. 




“I thought you were on the pill?” Elliot asks. 


Olivia narrows her eyes at him. “ Yeah, Elliot. I am . It’s not foolproof.” She rolls her eyes. 


“I know that …” Elliot trails off.


“Besides … don’t worry about it. Like I said. I’m not keeping it.” Olivia shakes her head. 


“Why not?” Elliot asks, eyes flickering down to her stomach. A small smile grows on his lips. “We could …” 


“Nope!” Olivia’s finger comes up, “Don’t … don’t. Look, I know you’re very into the whole … catholic … baby thing but I … I don’t want a kid right now.” Olivia shakes her head. 


“Catholic baby thing?” Elliot’s eyebrows furrow.


“You know what I mean.” Olivia sighs, running her hand over her face. She begins unbuttoning his work shirt and lets it slide off her arms and onto the floor, then reaches for her tank.


“I’m just saying if you … wanted to keep him …” 


“There is no him … it’s not even …” She moves her hand around her stomach. “It’s not a him or a her yet, Elliot.” Olivia states. 


“But it will be …” 


Elliot.” Olivia warns. 


“All I’m saying is if you want to keep him … or her … or it I … I would support you.” Elliot says, his voice softening. His eyes are locked on her stomach.




“Stop looking at me like that.” Olivia’s voice drops, slipping her tank top on.


“Like what?” 


Like I’m about to have your baby. ” Olivia brushes past him and goes into the bathroom, where she shuts and locks the door. 


. . . . . . . . 


Kathy stands in her kitchen doing dishes from dinner. Elizabeth sits at the kitchen table, playing with her barbies. The house, besides the sound of running water in the sink and Elizabeth talking to her barbies, is quiet. The rest of the kids are upstairs doing their own thing. 


“Wooowoooo!” Elizabeth sings a police siren. 


Kathy smiles softly as she scrubs at a dish, rinses it, then puts it on the rack. 


“I’m actually a lady police ossiciifer.” Elizabeth struggles to say officer. “And not only boys can be them. Look,” Elizabeth flexes the barbie arm out. “I even have a um …” Elizabeth stops, looking up from the doll and to Kathy. “Mommy?”


“A badge.” Kathy helps. 


“A badge!” Elizabeth beams. 


Kathy rinses another plate and as she does, she looks up and out the kitchen window. 


She drops the plate into the sink. 



Chapter Text

Kathy rinses another plate and as she does, she looks up and out the kitchen window. 


Perhaps it’s then, in that moment, that it strikes her. Her daughter’s ramblings about the police officer had been going on for weeks, and she thought nothing of that in general. It wasn’t unlike Elizabeth to become hyper fixated on something. But what made Kathy really stop and saunter off into her train of thought was remembering that day specifically and how awkward the encounter had been when Elliot came waltzing up to the checkout counter. 


They looked like they knew each other. Even Kathy in that moment had looked between the two of them and felt the strange charge. Do you know that woman? Kathy had asked. 


No. Elliot had answered. 


Kathy drops the plate into the sink. 


She turns the water off and turns around, leaning her backside against the counter – hands still sudsy from doing dishes.


“What’s wrong, Mommy?” Elizabeth asks, wide eyed. 


“Nothing …” Kathy whispers, reaching for a towel. 


Light cascades in on them, and specks of dust float around within that light. She’s sitting in the center of the bed, in one of his shirts – which isn’t a first for her but it is a little ritualistic thing she does when he leaves the room for any period of time. So when he returns, he’ll find her like that, sitting patiently. 


Elliot comes through the door of his motel room with a rather greasy looking fast food bag in one hand. “Got it.” he holds it up in one quick gesture. In the other hand is a drink holder with a soda and a milkshake. “They uh …” Elliot smirks. “Didn’t have vanilla so …” 



“Chocolate is fine.” Olivia speaks timidly, reaching for the sweet filled cup. 


Elliot hands her the milkshake and sits down the food bag and drink carrier on the little table in the room. There’s other things lying on it too, since he’s been living there. Stuff from work. A few personal items such as a pharmacy bag rolled up with fresh razors inside. A bible, which doesn’t belong to him but resided in the bedside table before he found it. He’s been reading it on and off. 


Olivia silently sips on her milkshake and corners her brown eyes up at Elliot when he approaches her with fries and a rolled up sandwich, hot and still in the paper. She smacks her lips in subtle appreciation, then makes a face that Elliot can only perceive as discontentment. 


“What’s wrong with it?” Elliot asks, sitting down beside her. He lays the sandwich in her lap. 


“Nothing.” Olivia whispers, eyes cast down. 




Tears fill Olivia’s eyes and her shoulders begin to shake as she lets out a soft weep. “I …” She laughs, wiping at her face with the backs of her hands. “I feel like such an idiot.” She giggles … then cries … then giggles again. 


Elliot, confused, decides to test the territory by reaching out and gently rubbing her back. “I can go somewhere else and find the right flavor.” He offers. 


“No.” Olivia shakes her head, her voice small. “I’m sorry.” She whispers. 


Elliot shakes his head no for don’t be sorry and reaches for the sandwich. He unwraps it for her and gestures upwards with it. “Eat your sandwich. I’ll go down to the other place and see if they have them.” Elliot nods. This isn’t his first go around with pregnancy cravings. He knows how emotional a woman can get over food. 


Olivia looks at him and he reaches forward and wipes one of her tears away with his knuckle. “Okay.” She agrees with a soft shrug and takes the sandwich from him. Elliot smiles and stands to his feet once more. He swipes his keys from the table and leaves for a second time. 


A half hour later, Olivia sits with her back to the headboard, sipping on one of two milkshakes Elliot brought her. He watches her closely, perhaps with more adoration than he initially realizes because when Olivia turns to look at him, she cocks an eyebrow and sends him a funny look. 


“What?” She asks, licking her lips. 


“Nothin’.” Elliot says.


Okay.” Olivia giggles a little, reaching for the second milkshake. 


“Have you thought any more about …” Elliot pauses briefly. “I don’t know, keeping it?” 




“I made the appointment.” Olivia states, sticking the straw into the lid of the shake. 


Elliot nods slowly. “So you are going ahead with the …” He trails off.


“The abortion? It isn’t a dirty word, Elliot.” Olivia says, a slight annoyance in her tone. 


“Of course not. And it’s your choice.” Elliot replies, scooting from his side into a sitting position. 


“That’s right.” Olivia pushes the straw in and out of the milkshake to stir it up. 




“I just wish you would think about it.” 


“I have thought about it.” 




Olivia looks over at him and narrows her eyes. “Elliot …” She inhales sharply. “You and I … we’re still … figuring us out. We don’t need a baby thrown into the mix.” 


“I thought we were figured out?” Elliot asks. 


“You know what I mean.” 


“No, I don’t.” Elliot chuckles and she knows just from the sound of his little laugh that he’s annoyed with her. 


“We didn’t exactly begin conventionally, did we?” Olivia asks, silently sipping on her shake. 


“Why does that matter?” Elliot asks. 


“It matters because we don’t know where this is going. And …” Olivia pauses for a moment, her voice lowering. “I would be a terrible mother.” 


Elliot’s expression drops. It hasn’t dawned on him that maybe, just maybe – that was a big reason for her not wanting to keep the baby. Her past with her mother. 


“You’re nothin’ like her.” Elliot says, conviction heavy in his tone. 


Olivia stops poking her straw into the cup and turns to look at him. She says nothing, but just stares – brown eyes wide and almost surprised by his words. She tilts her head and he swears for a moment, if only for a moment, he can see a glassy film over her eyes. 


“What if I’m just like her?” Olivia asks, her voice dropping into a bare whisper. “And I don’t know it yet?” She goes quiet, before continuing. “And then there’s him … what if …” She’s referring to her father. 


“It’s not all about genes, Liv.” Elliot shakes his head. 


“Isn’t it? You said in your letter that your son was afraid of you.” Olivia licks her lips and sits the milkshake down on the bedside table. “If it’s not all about genes, then why are you constantly trying to convince yourself that you’re not like your father?” She asks. 




Elliot’s eyebrows raise in surprise and briefly, he breaks his gaze from her. 


“I guess it’s always easier to tell someone how to feel, isn’t it?” Olivia asks. It comes out a little harsher than she would’ve liked it. But it was true. Elliot had expressed his own troubles with his parents in their exchanged letters but, there he was – trying to essentially talk her into having a baby because she was nothing like her parents. 


“I wasn’t trying to–”


“Yes you were.” Olivia sighs. “Look, Elliot … it’s not that I don’t want it …” She gestures to her stomach. “It’s that … it’s just not a good idea.” 


Elliot nods. “Okay. Like I said …” He runs his hand over his head. “I support you.” 


“Thanks … and you’re right, you know.” Olivia reaches for her milkshake. 




“It’s not all about genes. Not always.” Olivia smiles faintly and corners her eyes at him. “I think you turned out pretty great.” Her smile grows with small dimples forming in her cheeks, although she looks away from him as it does. 


Elliot’s lips curl up. 


“But sometimes I think it’s just about … what’s right, you know?” Olivia asks, her voice trailing off into smallness. 


Elliot keeps his eyes on her.


“And what’s right … is not bringing a baby into this mess right now. I’m not ready to be a mother. Or anything else for that matter …” Olivia mumbles, reaching for her milkshake once again. 


What did she mean by that? Or anything else for that matter? Elliot doesn’t ask. He remains quiet, only releasing a soft sigh at her words. He listens to her slurp on her milkshake until the bottom is dry. 

Or anything else for that matter. 

Chapter Text

A knock comes, and immediately, Olivia knows it’s him. She hasn’t been returning any of his calls over the past couple of days. Part of her didn’t really think he would come, which in itself was a problem. But, another part of her knew it was foolish to think that Elliot Stabler, the man who had practically been stuck on her like glue sense the moment they began whatever it was they were doing, wouldn’t come looking. 


Olivia sighs and crawls off her couch, reaching for the blanket she has there and tossing it around her shoulders. A grumble leaves her, low and annoyed, as she makes her way to her front door. She grabs the knob and jerks it open to see Elliot standing there a little wide eyed and confused. 


“I called. Several times. Where have you been?” Elliot asks. 


Olivia narrows her eyes at him. She doesn’t know whether to be annoyed by his question or to soften over the fact that he cares. 


“I’ve been busy.” Olivia answers quietly. She doesn’t move away from the door. 


Elliot examines her. She looks like she’s been in bed all day. As he stands there, looking her up and down, Olivia shifts in her position and places her weight on another leg. The blanket around her, knitted and pink, is wrapped around her almost like a cloak and her hair is a little frizzed out from her many naps throughout the evening. 


“You couldn’t call me back?” Elliot asks, now sounding exasperated. 


Olivia tilts her head down and peers up at him. “I went to the clinic.” She says, her voice dropping. 


Silence fills the space between them. 


“When?” Elliot asks. 


“Yesterday.” Her voice is still calm. Her eyes, however, look away from him. 


Oh.” Elliot breathes out, reaching with his hand to rub over the top of his head. 


“I told you I wasn’t going to keep it.” Olivia says, defensively. 



“I know … but …” 


“But what, Elliot?” Olivia looks up at him. 


“You don’t have to always be such a hard ass, you know? I would’ve come with you. Been there with you.” Elliot replies, his voice not rising in the slightest. “I love ya, Liv. I would’ve been there to support you.” He adds. 


Olivia’s expression fades, and her eyes widen just a bit so that he sees she’s feeling, maybe, a little guilty for being so brash with him. She hangs her head for an instant, then looks back up at him. “I didn’t think you’d wanna come …” She whispers. 


Elliot raises both brows, only to look at her with surprise. “I would’ve. I’d always come to be with you.” He says. 


A soft smile grows on Olivia’s lips, and slowly, brown eyes come up to meet his blue ones. 


“Yeah?” She asks, her voice whispery. 


A pause. 


Yeah.” Elliot smiles. 


Their gaze, which seems like it would never end, finally breaks when Olivia releases a gentle sigh and looks away. 


“Can I get you something? Have you eaten?” Elliot asks.


“I ate half of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich earlier.” Olivia replies, reaching and rubbing the back of her neck with her hand, which causes her blanket to fall from her shoulder and expose her gray tank. 


“That’s nothin’.” Elliot laughs. “What do you want? Pizza? … or I can go get those sandwiches you like from Brilee’s?” Elliot suggests. 


“Really, El. I’m not that hungry. I’m just a little tired.” Olivia says, still standing firm in front of her door. 




“Can I come in?” Elliot asks. 


Olivia remains quiet, deep in deliberation, until finally she gives a soft nod and moves away from the door. “ Yeah.” Comes from her, small and a little raspy. 


Elliot stands there, surprised that she agreed to let him in. He’s only been inside her apartment once and the last time he was here was after his mother passed away. He’s never been back, first of all, because she’s never offered and second of all, because she seems to be very particular about who she lets into her personal space. So he hasn’t pushed on the subject really. 


“You coming?” Olivia laughs, waving him in. 


Elliot, with a huge grin on his lips, saunters through the threshold and looks around. Her pillow is on the couch. The television is on, but muted. There’s magazines spread out all over the coffee table and they seem to be handbag oriented. Elliot steps up to the coffee table and peers down at them, tilting his head. 


“Didn’t know you were so big on purses.” Elliot jokes. “I mean, I’ve seen you carry one like, twice?” He looks over his shoulder at her. 


“Well, I’m looking for something for you to carry for me.” Olivia teases right back and comes back over to the couch, where she lays down and draws her legs up enough so he can sit down. 


Ha, ha. Very funny.” Elliot smirks and sits down in front of her legs. He immediately reaches and pulls them onto his lap. She lets him, stretching them out fully. “Want me to make you something?” He asks. 


“Your love language is food, isn’t it?” Olivia giggles, turning over on her back and looking down at him from the propped pillow. 

“I have many love languages.” Elliot wiggles his eyebrows, which incites Olivia to roll her eyes around at him. She nestles her chin into the palm of her hand and stares down at him. 


“You can make me a bowl of cereal if you want. The frosted flakes are in the right cupboard.” She says, pointing into the kitchen area. 


“Frosted flakes? It’s …” Elliot looks down at his watch. “It’s dinner time. Frosted flakes for dinner?” He laughs. 


“That’s what I want.” Olivia sticks her nose in the air and grins. 


“Alright then.” Elliot picks her legs up and places them gently back down on the couch. He makes his way into the kitchen, and Olivia watches as he goes into the cupboard and brings out the box of Frosted Flakes. “Bowls?” He asks, looking over at her. 


“That one.” Olivia points to the cabinet by the window. 


Elliot makes his way over and takes out a single bowl. He goes to the fridge, and stares into it. “There’s nothing in here but milk?” He laughs. The fridge is bare, almost too bare. “Do you grocery shop? Ever?” He adds, looking back and forth between her and the fridge. 


“They invented this amazing thing called take out.” Olivia closes her eyes and sends him a dimpled smile. 


“You need groceries.” Elliot shakes his head, pulling the milk from the glass shelf. 


“Frosted Flakes, Stabler. Stay focused.” Olivia grins, burying half of her face into her pillow. A brown eye peeks out and watches him close as he makes her cereal. There’s something sweet about it. Him taking care of her. Him wanting to take care of her. His support in general. She thought he would be upset. Angry at her, because obviously they share different views on the matter. But instead, he stands in her kitchen making her a bowl of cereal. 


“A little milk or a lot?” Elliot asks, twisting the cap off. 


“A little.” Olivia replies, her eyes not leaving him once. 


Elliot finishes making the cereal and happens to pull out the correct drawer with her silverware in it. He plops the spoon into the bowl and comes back into the living room. Olivia scoots up into a seated position and reaches for the cereal. 


“Thank you.” She takes it from him, and brings the bowl down onto her lap, where she holds it steady with one hand. She begins jabbing the spoon around in the bowl to cover the top pieces with a little milk. 




Letting him in that day had brought on a series of little events, which led to him ultimately coming over more and more often until meeting at his hotel room had, for the most part, become obsolete. The night she let him into her bed for the first time had been sweet. There was no sexual aspect to it, but she had asked him to stay over and immediately he agreed, stripped down to his briefs, and crawled in behind her. That, perhaps, was the first time she felt like what they were doing was real. They weren’t in some random hotel room, pretending to be something that maybe they weren’t. They were in her home, cuddling and doing things that real couples do. 


Mornings passed, one right after the other, each with Olivia asking him to come back there after he was finished with work for the day. Or if he would come over whenever she would come home. 


His suitcase snuck its way in too. It sits in the corner of her bedroom, in a chair that she never sits in. Open, and a couple articles of his clothing spread out. Her eyes fixate on it as he lays between her legs, thrusting upwards against her. A slight grin curls on her lips and she turns her attention back to him, to see that as he hovers above her, his eyes are closed and his expression is laced with pleasure. 


Right there …” Olivia pants, her hands flattening against his back. Her bedding is wrapped around their lower halves, shielding them from nonexistent eyes. A little “ Ah …” Leaves her, high pitched. The headboard knocks lightly into the wall and she’s thankful that the unit next to hers is empty. 


Elliot’s hand moves under the cover and he pushes one of her legs up, which she bends in response, and allows him to move up against her stomach – her foot dangling in the air. With a newfound zeal, he begins to move quickly into her, and judging by the sounds she begins making, he’s doing something right. There aren’t many words spoken between them, because when they’re like this there’s little to be said. They’re so caught up in one another that there’s nothing that could possibly come out of their mouths that their eyes, which are now locked one another, couldn’t say. 


She used to fear his intense gaze. Look away when they were together, because it made her feel like he was staring into parts of her that she’s never wanted anyone else to see before. But over time, she’s allowed herself to stare back just as intensely. 


Oh …” Olivia whimpers, her hands moving down beneath the blanket this time. She pushes it down, revealing the beginning of Elliot’s bare ass, and claws at his lower back just enough so he knows not to stop. Her little signal that what he’s doing feels good. 


Liv …” Elliot pants, face falling into the crook of her neck. It doesn’t stay there long. He glides his lips over the skin there and begins peppering kisses all along her jawline. Underneath her chin, which she buries her head back into the pillow for. He pulls up, so he can look at her face. 


I love you .” Olivia whispers. Perhaps it is something that’s said in the heat of passion, but she means it and he knows she means it. Elliot smirks down at her, little grunts passing his lips before leaning down to capture her mouth with his own. They kiss each other with a firmness that almost aches. Catches at the breath and makes it hard to breathe but if either are going to suffocate, they’d both prefer to go this way. When he finally breaks their kiss, her lips fall to his neck where she places an open mouthed kiss there. 


“Gonna come …” Elliot warns, bringing one hand to hers where he threads his fingers in with hers and brings it above her head. She’s not quite there yet but she thrusts her hips down against him in effort to let him know that it’s okay to come. That she wants him to. So he does, releasing hard into the condom. 


Uhhhh …” Elliot moans, jerking forward against her hips, which incites a series of moans from her. When he’s finished, his mouth starts on hers, placing soft kisses against her lips. His way of saying that was nice and thank you. He nibbles against her bottom lip, and begins trailing down the front of her neck, over her breasts, and at that point she feels him slip out of her. She hates that emptiness, but she knows he’s about to make her forget about it. 


The moment his mouth comes into contact with her heat, she bucks up from the bed just enough to feel the soft glide of his tongue against her. She draws her legs up and closes her eyes. “ Mmmm …” Comes from her, which only increases as he tells her how good she tastes. 


Olivia doesn’t last long after that. Release comes quick and swift against his mouth, and as he’s holding her into place and accepting everything that comes from her and past his lips, she cries out his name in jubilance. 


Moments later, when Elliot makes his way back up to kiss her lips, she wraps both arms around his neck and smiles against him. He begins pecking her lips, her cheeks, over her eyes, provoking giggles and snorts from Olivia. Her smile is spread across her flushed face, white pearly teeth showing. His lips come into contact with the corner of her mouth and she tries to speak, only to be muffled here and there by his affection. 


“I got you …” Kiss. “Something.” Olivia says, turning her head. 


“Oh?” Elliot asks, nuzzling his nose against her ear. 


“Mhm.” Olivia says, patting him on the chest. Elliot moves from on top of her and scoots over so that he’s lying on his side. He watches as Olivia rolls over on her side and begins fishing through her bedside table. 


“Another pair of handcuffs?” Elliot jokes. 


Nah.” Olivia mimics him and turns over. In between her fingers is a small silver key. 


Elliot raises a brow, looking back and forth between her and the key. 


“If you want it.” Olivia says, dangling it back and forth. 

Elliot’s smile reappears and as he goes to reach for it, she holds it away from him in playfulness, only to extend it back out to him. Elliot takes the key from her fingers and narrows his eyes at it. 


“Now you can stop waiting outside my door when I’m not home.” Olivia grins. 


“Guess so.” Elliot looks at Olivia and leans back into her. His lips are already puckered. 


“You’re insatiable. You should get up and start getting ready … you’re picking your kids up right? At 5 still?” Olivia asks, hand on his chest. 


“She canceled again.” Elliot replies.


“What was the reason this time?” Olivia asks. 


“She didn’t give a reason.” 


“You deserve a reason.” 


“Do I?” Elliot asks, playing with the key in between his fingers. 


“She shouldn’t punish you with your kids.” Olivia states. 


“Yeah. Maybe I’ll go by tonight and see if I can talk to her.” Elliot replies. 


“Will you really? You were supposed to go last weekend. Talk to her.” Olivia scoots up so that her back is against her headboard. 


“She served me Monday.” Elliot states. “Maybe after the divorce, things will clear up … I don’t know … I just …” Elliot goes quiet. 




“I miss my kids.” Elliot’s voice cracks. 


Olivia reaches behind Elliot’s head and begins running her fingertips through the hair there. As she does, she contemplates everything that’s been going on for the past couple months. Him leaving his wife for her, or rather – Kathy kicking him out because of the letter she’d found. Kathy not really letting the kids around Elliot, regardless of her saying he could see them only if whoever he was “fucking” was kept away from them. To Olivia’s knowledge, Kathy still doesn’t know who she is. Elliot refuses to tell her, she thinks because he believes Kathy will make a scene once she figures out where Olivia works. 


But Olivia isn’t really one to just lay down and wait for chaos to break loose. Or to watch someone she cares about suffer. The secrets, the uncertainty, are getting a little old. 


Maybe it’s time she properly introduces herself to Kathy. 

Chapter Text

Elliot pushes the small silver key into the doorknob of their apartment. It still feels odd to say something like that. Their apartment. He’s lived in a house for years with Kathy, and the change of it all has thrown him for a loop. Olivia’s apartment – no, their apartment isn’t very big. Her room is so small that a full sized bed won’t even fit. She’s cleared out a drawer for him that he’s managed to stack at least some of his belongings in but his suitcase is still sitting on the chair in her room with what won’t fit in the drawers packed inside. 


It’s been an adjustment to say the least. 


Elliot walks into the living room with his jacket thrown over his arms. He’s wearing his ryker’s uniform and looks just as tired as one would expect after working a night shift. It’s early morning, and surprisingly, Olivia sits on the very end of the couch with a cup of coffee in her hands – her arm is thrown over the back so that her elbow hangs off. 


Olivia looks up from her mug at him and gives a faint smile, reaching to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear as she does. “There’s fresh coffee in the kitchen.” She raises her mug to her lips. 


Elliot shakes his head immediately. “Nah, I’m gonna go to bed I think. I’m beat.” He adds. 


There’s no television on. No random little sounds to distract him at all from the fact that the apartment is quiet. So he wonders why she’s been sitting in a silent apartment all morning. 


“Everything okay?” Elliot asks, working on unbuttoning his shirt. 


“Mm, yeah. I guess. Just thinking.” Olivia takes another drink of her coffee – brown eyes peering up at him. 


Elliot raises an eyebrow and begins working his fingers down the rest of his shirt. Once he finishes, he pulls it off to reveal the white tank underneath. “Wanna come lay with me for a while?” He asks, letting the shirt fall to the couch. Olivia eyeballs it. 


“No, I just woke up.” Olivia laughs. 


“Full night’s sleep?” Elliot asks. 


“More like three hours but … you know.” Olivia shrugs. 




“I was thinking that I could talk to Kathy.” Olivia blurts out, which catches Elliot off guard enough to straighten his posture completely – and manages to look at her like she has lobsters crawling out of her ears. 


“What?” Elliot asks. 


“Talk to Kathy. It’s been a couple of months. I think it’s time we meet. Maybe we can talk … and once we talk, maybe she’ll let you see your ki–” 


“No. Absolutely not.” Elliot laughs, shaking his head. 


Olivia cocks an eyebrow, and leans forward to set her mug down. “ Okay.” Her answer is brief. Irritation in her tone is already present. 


“I told you I’d take care of it.” Elliot retorts. 


“Why are you getting so defensive?” Olivia asks. 


“I’m tired and I don’t want to talk about it.” He replies. 


“You never wanna talk about it. What are you going to do Elliot?” Olivia asks, watching as he turns and walks into the back of the apartment. She purses her lips together out of frustration and stands up, where she follows him. “Are you going to just let her keep squeezing you by the balls? Because that’s what she’s doing. She thinks she has the upper hand because of what happened. She shouldn’t be bringing your kids into this.” Olivia states, following Elliot into the bedroom. 


Elliot sits on the bed and pulls his boots off. “Let me worry about it.” He says, dropping each boot to the floor. 


“Put them by the closet.” Olivia says, knowing that he’s just going to leave them where he dropped them if she doesn’t say anything. 


Elliot rolls his eyes and stands to his feet, practically dragging himself and his boots over to the closet. He stacks them there besides the pair of shoes she usually wears to work. 


“What’s your problem?” Olivia asks, eyes following him as he walks by over to the bed and plops down. 


“I want you to let me handle it and stop getting into something that doesn’t concern you.” Elliot says and lays back onto the bed. “Come lay with me?” He asks, his entire demeanor changing. 


Olivia stares at him, an eyebrow cocked and her arms still crossed. “You’re kidding me right?” 


“What?” Elliot asks. 


Olivia rolls her eyes and turns on her heel to leave the bedroom. What did I do now? Elliot thinks as he releases a deep sigh and rolls himself back into a sitting position, only to stand up and follow her into the kitchen. 


“If it doesn’t concern me, then you can go ahead and stop telling me how much you miss your kids every night.” Olivia turns the sink on and begins washing the couple of dishes that sit in the sink. Her hands become sudsy in a matter of seconds. 


“I didn’t mean–” 


“No, you want me to shut up about it. That’s what you mean. That’s fine, I’ll shut up about it. But in the meantime, while your guilt is keeping you from your kids – I don’t wanna hear about it.” Olivia scoffs, washing a plate vigorously. 


My guilt?” Elliot’s voice is sudden. She catches his tone straight away and slams the plate down into the sink and somehow, it doesn’t break. 


“Yeah, Elliot. Your guilt.” Olivia turns to look at him, soap suds cascading down her arms. She brings one hand up and begins to point. “Before you say anything stupid to me, remember that I suggested we end this before something like this happened. Remember that I said we were getting in too deep over our heads with this.” Olivia points – water and suds flying at Elliot in the process, which he dodges with little effort. 


“What’s done is done. You keep justifying what happened to yourself with the whole oh I wanted it to be over and you wouldn’t let it be thing and honestly, it’s gettin’ old.” Elliot puts his hands on his hips. His tone, as he mocks her, is what sets Olivia off – earning him quite the look.


Fuck off. Talk to your goddamned wife about your kids, so at least–” Olivia stops herself, turning towards the sink again. 


“So at least what?” Elliot asks.


Olivia hangs her head. She won’t look at him. 


“So at least what?” He asks again.




“So at least you don’t have to live with so much guilt?” Elliot asks. 


Again, nothing. 


“I live with it every day. Knowing that what I did is the reason my kids wake up every morning … wondering where I am until finally they realize daddy left. That when they’re old enough to understand, they’re gonna know what I did and probably hate me for it as long as they live. You think I don’t think, Olivia? Oh, I think. So maybe before you continue to try and control this situation so it makes you feel better, you should stop and think about what happens outside of what you feel.” Elliot states, his voice low. 


“You have no idea what I feel.” Olivia stares at him. Some of her hair has fallen down into her face as she braces sudsy hands, on the verge of drying that way, on the edges of the sink. Admittedly, his accusation about her trying to control the situation so she feels better about it stings. Because that’s not why she wanted to help. She wanted to help because she loves him and can’t stand to see him in pain. But although they’ve come far, she won’t tell him that. She won’t tell him I don’t like to see you in pain because I love you so much. 


Hell, it took her a while to even tell him she loved him to his face. 


“You’re making it pretty obvious.” Elliot crosses his arms. He thinks he’s so sure on this. 


Olivia, in silence, reaches forward and begins rinsing her arms. She’s unusually quiet. 


“So you’re done? Oh that’s right. You decide when we talk and when we don’t. You decided when we saw each other, when we didn’t–”




“It’s true, you–”


Olivia reaches for the spray nozzle of the sink and aims it at him. 


“N–” Elliots hands fly up. 


Olivia releases, spraying cold water in his direction. Elliot backs up only a couple of feet with his hands still up, but they do little to shield his face. He only drops his hands when he hears the clink of the nozzle drop into the basin of the sink. 


Jerk.” Olivia hisses, walking past him and stomping into the back of the apartment. 


Elliot stands there, quiet. Water drips down his face and as he’s standing there, he reflects on their … argument? Which got started why exactly? 






She wants him to be able to see his kids. And was willing to help because …


He was being a coward about it. 


Elliot’s expression drops and he reaches with the back of his hand to wipe at his nose. He then reaches for a towel that lies on the sink and unfolds it, where he begins to dab at his face. Elliot turns and walks towards the bedroom, still drying at his chest and neck. 


Olivia lies in a bed with a book open, and upside down. 


Elliot cracks a smirk and leans against the doorframe. “I’m sorry. You’re just trying to help.” He says quietly. 




Olivia turns the page and Elliot can’t help but let out a little “ Hm.” Laugh in response because clearly given the position of the book – she’s not reading a damn word. 


“I love you.” Elliot hangs his head a little, blue eyes peering up. 




Olivia turns a page. He can’t see her face, but watches as her fingers tap along the outside of the book. Elliot clears his throat and saunters over to the bed until he’s standing close enough to peek over the book at her face. But Olivia brings the book higher to shield herself from him. 


“You sprayed me.” Elliot states, looking down at his wet tank. 




“Like a dog.” 




Elliot releases a soft laugh and pulls his tank up over his head, dropping it to the floor. “Guess I’m gonna have to just … strip down, ass naked, and come to bed.” He teases. 


“Or the couch.” Olivia states, the book still held firmly over her face. 


Elliot unbuckles his belt, letting it flare open. 


“If I feel one bare ball against me I’m going to do more than spray you.” Olivia states, peeking one brown eye and finely arched brow over the book. Elliot leaves his pants on, but leans down to crawl in next to her. Olivia, with her upside down book, turns her back to him. 


“You are …” Elliot leans in, placing a kiss close to the spaghetti strapped tank she’s wearing, just behind her shoulder. “The most beautiful woman … I’ve ever seen.” Another kiss. Olivia sighs. “And the sweetest place I”ve ever been.” Elliot repeats words back to her that she’s said to him multiple times before. 


Damn him.


Olivia drops the book and immediately turns around to face him. Dark eyes stare into light ones, searching for something in one another. Neither have been able to figure out what yet, but when they go looking – there’s always something there in brown and blues to latch onto. 


“You’re so soft.” Olivia cracks a gentle grin and scoots closer to him. “I’m sorry for spraying you.” She reaches and rubs the back of his head with her hand. 


“I’m sorry for telling you to butt out.” Elliot says, watching as she somehow manages to scoot closer to him. They’ve come a long way because months ago, they would do their thing and she would scoot as far away from him as possible. But now – now he has her in this way too. Which feels like the ultimate win. He loves her. He didn’t think it would ever be possible to love another person as much as he loves the woman lying beside him, that just so happened to be sitting in a bar one night all those months ago. 


Maybe he knew, from their first night together, that her fire inspired passion inside him that he never knew existed. Maybe he knew. Maybe. But then again, it could’ve easily hit him just as a ton of bricks. He’ll never know, because whatever grew for her did grow so sudden. 


“I just love you. I don’t like to see you hurt.” Olivia whispers, her breath bouncing off his lips because they’re just that close. 


Elliot reaches with his hand and runs his fingertip down the bridge of her nose, until it comes to rest at the bulb. She scrunches in reflex, and narrows her eyes at him. “I’m going to take care of it. I promise.” He says. 


The room falls quiet, and though there isn’t a sound, Olivia cracks a soft smile and snort that seems a little spontaneous for the moment. 


Vanillaaaaa.” She whispers. 


Elliot grins back. 


Chocolate.” Elliot says. 


“No,” Olivia shakes her head softly, crawling on top of him. His hands come to rest on her back, flattened. 




Chapter Text

“What’s her name?” Kathy sits back in the dining room chair, and crosses one leg over the other. Elliot sits opposite of her, staring. Saying nothing. Just, staring. Blue eyes cast down and stare at the grain of the wooden table where he’s spent years with her and his children, eating dinner. Breakfast. Figuring out bills and life’s unexpected twists and turns. 


This, perhaps, was the biggest twist and turn of them all. Falling in love with a woman after a one night stand. Running into her again was fate, Elliot had decided. As he sits there, silent, he recalls the look on Olivia’s face when their eyes met again in the light of day and what that meant for the both of them. It meant they existed beyond their time together in the motel room that night, after the bar. That they were real, and not just figments of each other’s sexual imaginations. 


“Her name is Olivia.” Elliot replies, finally directing his attention to Kathy, who seems shocked that finally Elliot has confessed her name. 


Olivia.” Kathy laughs, shaking her head. “Okay. Younger or older?” 


“I’m here to talk about the kids.” Elliot clears his throat. 


“She’s younger than you isn’t she?” Kathy releases another laugh – far from amusement. 




“Oh, God. She is, isn’t she?” Kathy leans forward. 


“A little.” Elliot replies. “I want to see the kids this weekend. I don’t want this to get messy, Kathy. There’s no reason the kids need to be weighed down by … this. This mess is ours. It shouldn’t be theirs.” Elliot adds. 




“It’s not going to work. You know that right? You may have caught each other’s eye for whatever reason but … these kind of relationships don’t last.” Kathy nods, gaze fixated on him. She lets out a soft sigh and leans forward so that her elbows are resting on the edges of the kitchen table. “Elliot …” Kathy hangs her head. “Come home. Stop this. We both know this isn’t going to work. Where are you staying? I went by your room the other day. You’d checked out. Are you … living with her now?” Kathy tilts her head. 


“Why’d you come to my room?” Elliot asks. 


“Well, it’s not your room anymore. That’s why I’m asking.” Kathy states. “Are you living with her?” 


“Yes.” Elliot replies. He knows there’s no way to beat around that question. 


“And you, what? Want to bring my children there?” Kathy asks. 


Our children.” Elliot corrects. 


Kathy presses her lips together and nods, turning her focus out the kitchen window. “Do you know how hard this has been on me?” Her voice cracks, and he can tell, even from sitting across the table that there are tears in her eyes. “My mother has to help me watch the kids when I have shifts at the hospital … I …” She stops. “Do you care? At all?” 


“Of course I care. If you’d just … let me see them, I can help with watching them. I’ll take them. Anytime.” Elliot says, leaning forward in his seat. 


“I don’t want her around them. Ever.” Kathy spits. “Elizabeth is already infatuated with her. I don’t want to have to explain to her that she’s … daddy’s girlfriend.”


“She is.” Elliot looks down. 


“What?” Kathy asks. 


“My girlfriend. That would be the truth. Olivia is my girlfriend. They’re going to find out sooner or later. You can’t keep them from me forever, Kathy. They’re going to have to adjust and get used to this. We have to make this as normal for them as possible —” Elliot explains, waving his hands about. 


“Come home, Elliot.” Kathy interjects. 


Elliot stares long and hard at her. He’s a little taken aback by her statement, but doesn’t entertain it long before finally speaking up. 


“Kathy …” He sighs. “It wasn’t working long before she came along, it’s not going to work now. It’s … it’s more complicated than –” 


“What is it? The sex? Is that why it’s so different with her than it is with me? Because what? She’s younger?” Kathy laughs, sarcasm dripping heavily from her outburst. 


“It has nothing to do with that. I …” Elliot looks down. 


“You what?” Kathy leans down just enough to see his face better. “Love her?” 


Elliot falls silent. Kathy follows suit, and it becomes so quiet that it’s almost deafening. He sits back in his seat, yet again, and rubs his fingertips together as he thinks about what he’ll say next to the woman across from him. The woman who gave him children, and honestly, her life for years. He knows he doesn’t sit in a position to tell her how things are going to be. Or dictate how exactly he wants things. But he knows for the sake of their kids, who are innocent in all of this chaos, he has to tell her what has to happen. 


“I do love her. And I’m not going to sit here and lie to you and say that I’m sorry that I care about her. What I will tell you is I didn’t go looking. I didn’t … intentionally set out to ruin anything. But …” Elliot pauses. “I’ve realized what a disservice we’re doing to each other. We deserve more outside of what was happening … there’s more to being with someone than just existing side by side. Then just paying bills and waiting for time to pass.” Elliot states. He doesn’t finish his complete thoughts. His complete thoughts may be offensive to her. He would never tell Kathy that he didn’t know what it meant to want to grow old with someone until he met Olivia. That he didn’t know what it meant to just lay in bed with someone and hold hands, without there being anything said, but soft glances. 


How he loved the way she would tease him, in those moments of silence, by whispering vanilla in his ear. Her favorite. Something he had, months ago, thought was her insulting him was simply a way of Olivia telling him how he, a man that she hardly knew, was her favorite. Her sweet place. Though, he knew she was still afraid in many ways to dwell in that place with him. 


Elliot thinks of the casual letters that had broken her walls down just enough so that he could throw one leg over, and slide his way through to her. Olivia had fought hard against him, with everything she had. But when she finally opened her arms for him, they had taken from each other until they were so full of one another that there was no room left for anything else. But the past can’t be erased, and there were still things from both of their lives that seemed to soak in between the cracks of what they were to each other. His children, whom he loved very much, needed him. So he decided he would have to fix this situation so he could be in their lives.


 Olivia, who had deeply rooted most of her past into herself, was only beginning to let go of her assumptions that she was unlovable. That her mother’s words were wrong, and only rooted in self-loathing. She still lets go of that every day. A little at a time, whether Elliot drags it out himself or she pushes it out in words like “ I don’t like to see you hurt.” 


“Just think about it.” Elliot whispers to Kathy. “I know it’s going to take a long time to fix this,” He motions between them. “But we’re good parents. A good team for them.” Blue eyes stare at her, full of sincerity. 


Silence. Kathy stares at him for a moment before giving a soft nod. “I’m not comfortable with them coming over yet …” She says. 


Elliot says nothing. He just listens. 


“They’ll um … they’ll be out of school soon. You can … pick them up. Take them for ice cream or something and … bring them back before dinner. Okay?” Kathy asks, and immediately, Elliot smiles. 


“Yeah?” Elliot perks up, excitement evident. 


“Yeah. They’ll be happy to see you.” Kathy nods, standing from the kitchen table. “We can start there.” She adds. 


“That’s good. I’m glad.” Elliot stands as well, reaching for his coat on the back of the kitchen chair. “That’s good.” He repeats, sliding the coat on. Only a moment longer does he stand there, before giving her one final smile and heading towards the backdoor to leave. 


“Elliot?” Kathy asks. He turns around. 


“Yeah?” Elliot asks. 


“Before dinner.” Kathy repeats. 


“Before dinner.” Elliot reassures, and with that, he leaves. 

. . . . .

When Elliot comes through the door later that night, Olivia perks up from her position on the couch and smiles broadly at him. He had called while he was out with his kids to let her know what was going on and of course, Olivia was thrilled that he was able to see and spend time with them. 


“How was it?” Olivia asks, scooting up to her knees on the couch. 


“It was great. Everyone got ice cream. We talked. They asked questions and … I tried my best to answer them.” Elliot takes his coat off and lays it over the lounge chair in Olivia’s living room. Olivia lays back onto the couch and opens her arms for him, which Elliot grins at because of how soft she’s gotten for him over the past couple months in particular. He makes his way over to Olivia and crawls on top of her, nestling himself between her legs and propping his arms on either side of her body, so his face hovers over hers.


“I’m so glad you talked to her. And that you got to see them.” Olivia reaches with her hand and strokes the side of Elliot’s face. “I’m proud of you.” 


“Mmm …” Elliot nods, a soft smile on his lips. He leans down and presses his mouth to hers, where he peppers kisses all over her chin and lips. “I think it went well. I think she sees now that … I should be in their lives.” He nuzzles his face in her neck. 


“You should be.” Olivia wraps both arms around his neck. 


“I think she’ll come around. I think once things … air out completely, we can co-parent together.” Elliot nods, kissing against the skin of her neck. “She told me to come home. So I think she won’t hate me forever.” He adds. 


“Huh?” Olivia asks. 


“I said I think she won’t hate me forever.” Elliot repeats. 


“No, before that. She asked you to come home?” Olivia stiffens, and moves away from him just enough so that he comes up to look at her. When he does, he sees the look on her face and how his choice of words, maybe weren’t the best. There’s already tears lining her brown eyes. 


“Liv … it’s not going to happen.” Elliot reassures her. 


Every fear she’s had creeps up into her chest. He watches her, beneath him, withdraw in the way that she does. She turns her head to look away from him. 


“She’s willing to forgive you.” Olivia whispers. 


“Look at me.” Elliot reaches for her chin, and although he turns her head towards him, her eyes remain fixated on the television, which is off and nothing but a black mirror. “Liv. Look at me.” His voice becomes more firm. 


Slowly, Olivia’s eyes flicker over to him. 


“I’m not going anywhere.” Elliot whispers down at her, his thumb stroking at her bottom lip. 


“I’m sorry.” Olivia reaches with her hand and covers her face. She’s embarrassed for reacting the way that she had. She’s come across as childish, she imagines, and clingy – which is something she never wants to be. She’s always been the tough ass. The one to say oh well if someone moves on from her. But she can’t stand that thought with him. Elliot moving on from her, after so much of herself has been bared to him? She couldn’t take it. She knows she would never be the same. 


“I love you and I’m not going anywhere. I just need you to not go anywhere either.” Elliot reaches for her hand, where he begins kissing her knuckles. 


“You’re so soft. I’m not going anywhere.” Olivia grins, tears still glistening in her eyes. 


“You like it.” Elliot smirks back. 


“Vanilla.” Olivia snorts. 


“That’s right.” Elliot laughs softly, his face dropping to the crook of her neck. “Mmm … you owe me another letter, Benson. I wrote last.” 


“I think you just like to read how big you are on paper.” Olivia jokes, running the back of her heel up his leg. 


“Not that kind of letter. But I don’t mind those either.” Elliot nips at her neck. 


“Mmm … well, how about I just tell you what I would write now?” Olivia asks. That alone, is a pretty big step for her. She’s not great at expressing her feelings. But Elliot’s curiosity is piqued, so he wonders what she could possibly say to him that would be similar to their exchanged letters, and what they shared in them. 


“Go on.” Elliot’s face remains buried in the crook of her neck. 




“I’m waiting.” Elliot jokes, but regardless, it earns him a slap on the back. 


I don't think you want grand gestures

Just a simple faithful friend

Someone who will walk it with You

All the way to the end

Someone who can live and love You

Singin' how I've come to know


“I love how soft you are. For me. I like the way you look at me … the way you smile after we’re together.” Olivia’s voice is small, but because he’s so close, he hears her perfectly. “I like cramming into my tiny bed with you …” 


“And your tiny shower.” Elliot chimes in. Another slap on the back.


I”m writing this.” Olivia states. 


“Excuse me.” Elliot sings. 


“Mhm. And I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone in my entire life. And I think you might love me more than anyone has ever loved me.” Olivia goes quiet, and watches as Elliot raises his head from the crook of her neck. 


“I do love ya, Liv.” Elliot’s voice softens as blue eyes stare down at her. 


“I know. Vanilla boy.” Olivia teases, tilting her head at him. 


So I kiss farewell to drama

My everything is You

And after all the things that You've done

Oh, Your love's been proved

I'm not goin' back there

No, I've come to know

“We’re gonna last. You know that right?” Elliot asks. Olivia stares up at him for a moment, curious as to why he said that in particular. “You and me.” Elliot adds with a gentle nod. Olivia doesn’t question why he said what he said, instead, she just nods along with him. 


“I think we will.” She says. 


“I’m crazy about you.” Elliot releases a soft chuckle. 


“I kinda figured that when you punched the guy for interrupting your uh … grand finale.” Olivia teases, wiggling from underneath him. 


“Tell me you’re crazy about me too.” Elliot reaches to stroke some hair away from her face. 


“I think we’ve settled we’re a little … off, for each other. Yeah?” Olivia jokes, wrapping both arms around his neck. 


“That’s fair. Okay my turn.” Elliot runs his lips across her jawline. 


“Your turn for what?” Olivia asks. 


“My letter.” Elliot states. 


“Oh?” She giggles. 


“Mhm.” Elliot presses his mouth to her ear. “You and I are going to last … and I’m going to spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you. That I choose you, every day. That I …” Elliot continues, and the more he goes on, the more tears gather in her eyes — this time for a very different reason. He’s a softy, she knows this. But the way he speaks to her and tells her all the ways he loves her. All the ways he’ll continue to love her, do nothing but excite every emotional fiber of her being. 


Olivia lies there listening to all of the little promises he makes her. Ones that a letter could never hold as true as his living, breathing words could. She listens to him talk about what he hopes for their life together, which is something she’ll reflect on daily. Especially when most of the things he promises her come true. 


Like how they’ll take their daughter, when she eventually comes along, five years from now, to Grand Central Station to look at the constellations above them. Or the fish in a pond rather, which she had told him she thought the constellations were as a child. 


He’ll give her a family, and in return, she’ll give him herself. Together, just as they always have, they’ll give one another refuge — sweet, and full. 

My sweet refuge

And I know the wolves keep circlin'

But I'll be safe with You

'Cause You're my, oh, You are my

My sweet refuge