Work Text:
“Mr Stabler! It’s been a while- what can I do for ya?”
Elliot greeted the car shop mechanic, an old geezer, born and raised in Queens who’s been calling him Mr Stabler since he first showed up in this shop with his first car - a second hand Toyota he’d barely managed to scrap enough savings to afford, but something he worried Kathy and baby Maureen would need while he’d be… away. He’d been an 18 year old kid with a baby in his arms and a beat up old car, but Sean O’Keefe had seen a man stepping up, he said, so he’s been Mr Stabler ever since.
“Hey Mr O’Keefe, it’s been a minute.”
Elliot turns around and indicates the car he drove in with his head.
“You think you could help me sell this one.”
The man whistles and checks out the car. “Since when are you riding in style?”
Elliot shakes his head while the man comes to stand next to him, still staring at Olivia’s old Mustang.
“it’s not mine, I’m- my partner from work, she’s looking to sell.”
“Uh-ha. She knows you’re here in Queens selling her vintage car?”
Elliot chuckles “Yeah, yeah, don’t worry, she won’t show up with a gun and a temper.”
O’Keefe doesn’t take a lot of convincing and after taking a few photos tells him he’ll give him a call in a few days to bring it in for a check while he’ll start putting the word out for potential buyers.
They’re saying their goodbyes when O’Keefe gives him a long look “I heard about you and the missus- it’s a shame.”
Elliot nods along, “Yeah, well” he shrugs, his fingers tightening around Olivia’s car keys, definitely not about to talk about his life and his family. He sees the man give him a strange look as he waves him a last goodbye, and he calmly drives away.
————————-
Elliot has been told he’s an idiot many times. Between the job, the perps, the perps’ families, the victims’ families, the general public sometimes, he’s often regarded as some meathead with a brain as smooth as a pudding cup.
Elliot doesn’t think of himself as an idiot. Sure, his academic knowledge leaves a lot to be desired, trying to help his kids with homework has proven that to him, but he is adequate enough with general knowledge and street smarts to make up for that. And between the kids and the job, he thinks he’s emotionally intelligent enough to be able to show empathy, to understand the feelings of others, and to place himself in other people’s shoes. See the world from different perspectives.
But there is an aspect of the human experience where he is kind of a dumbass. Not that he’d ever admit it to anyone outside his own head.
He’s often watched Olivia find dates for herself, in bars after work, in men who hit on her when they go out to lunch and she picks up the tab (rare for her, to pick up the tab that is, but it happens), at the corner bodega once. Each and every time he’s been impressed by how smooth the process is, how easy she makes showing genuine mutual interest of a romantic nature appear.
It goes like this: She’ll note a guy watching her, and she’ll take them in for a second. If she likes what she sees, she’ll smile, look away, and then look back. And the guy will slowly walk up to her and go for it. Pick up lines don’t work unless they’re really ludicrous- honestly made to make her laugh. If they do get a decent laugh out of her, she’ll give the guy a chance to chat her up.
If the chatting goes well, the guy will ask for a date. Some of them rub the back of their necks, a bit out of their depth. Some of them are casual, suave about it- like they get to do this all the time, have a chance at a woman like Olivia Benson (Elliot hates those guys).
Either way they’ll give her a card, or a napkin, or whatever and Olivia will take her pick and a couple of days later she’ll show up at the bullpen with a change of clothes, and leave work all dolled up for some lucky bastard or other and Elliot will smirk at her ability to so easily entice men of all shapes and sizes and wrap them around her little finger until they inevitably fuck up, somehow.
He doesn’t ask many questions about the whys of the breakdown of the process, mostly because he knows there aren’t any decent answers to that. What kind of idiot gets a chance at Olivia Benson and then fucks it up? Elliot thinks, if he ever got a shot like that, he would not screw it up. So when the Michaels and the Henrys and the Gregs eventually fail, he doesn’t question why. What use would that be? They were not good enough for whatever reason, and Olivia kicked them to the curb.
Now, all these years later he is aware that that part of his thought process should have led to a series of realisations for him a long time ago. But hey, he has already admitted, to himself at least, that he’s not the sharpest tool in the box when it comes to the romance of it all, ok?
And no, it’s not like he doesn’t understand flirting. He does. He’s flirted a whole lot, even as a married man. Hey, it’s not against the rules and sometimes it helps, at work, at the cop bar, anywhere really where some charm can push the process along. Not to mention it’s nice to know he’s still got it.
But he’s been doing that as a married man. The wedding ring on his hand has kept it safe. Yeah, sure, Jo Malone had taken his flirting in completely the wrong way, but that was classic Jo finding it inconceivable that there are men out there who are decent and don’t cheat on their wives.
Nothing could ever come out of whatever flirting he got into, and he was fine with that. It meant it was a game, there were no stakes, he didn’t care that the flirtation would lead to nowhere because that had been exactly what he wanted.
Anyway, to get to the point - Elliot knows now that he’s a complete idiot when it comes to telling a woman you like that, well, you like her.
First sign: It took him years to even realise that he liked this woman. As in liked her, liked her. Yeah he knows he sounds like a teenager, that’s part of what makes the whole thing idiotic.
Second sign: He decided that ignoring it would make it go away. And so even though he was divorced and, technically free to date, he was so terrified of the idea, of her laughing in his face and then disappearing to some hippie group in Wyoming or wherever, that he didn’t do anything about it and then he was married again and he had yet another baby to raise.
Third sign: Kathy told him she’d be happy to let him “get it out of his system” if it meant he’d still come home at night and stop being so moody and miserable all the time. The sign here was that he considered this for a second or two, before they had the biggest fight of their lives and he run out of their home, with an ultimatum from his wife to either “figure it out” or not come back.
Fourth sign: He immediately ended up at Olivia’s door.
He saw the light change through the peephole.
“It’s me.” He said. Like an idiot. She could see him through the peephole for God’s sake.
“Yeah I can see you. Don’t you dare laugh, I wasn’t exactly expecting company.”
She opened the door to let him in, and he just- he felt like one does when they see like, a kitten yawning. Or a puppy playing with a tennis ball. He wanted to put his fist through a wall not because he was angry but because Olivia Benson had some weird green goo on her face. And she had a fluffy headband holding her fringe away from said goo, and her hair was in a ponytail but there were short bits escaping and licking her neck and framing her face, and she had some fuzzy socks on and a pair of old shorts and she turned around and headed back to the couch while he closed the door. She was watching the Knicks and it’s really not his fault because it’s better to put his hand through the drywall than reach out and grab her and pull her into his arms and bury his face in her neck and breathe deeply and- he shakes his head. Beer. He needs beer.
“Is the goo there to hide the tears when they lose?”
She throws him a dirty look before she picks up her beer bottle “They’re doing fine, thanks for asking. You’d better not be here for work, Elliot.”
He hums and walks into her kitchen, opens the fridge and grabs a beer for himself.
He sits down next to her and doesn’t even grumble about how she insists on wasting money on Heineken.
He doesn’t think too much on the fact that this is comfortable. That even though his marriage is falling apart - again - sitting here is nice. Her perpetually cold feet now sticking under his thigh is nice. Her laugh and her excited yells when the Knicks, shockingly, score is really nice.
They sit there companionably and drink their beer, and as the game slows down into what seems like an earned, easy win for her team, she lowers the volume, puts down her beer on the table, and tells him she’ll be back in a sec.
He hears the water run in her bathroom and soon after she walks out - goo free. She plops herself on the couch next to him and picks up her beer again, nudging him with her shoulder.
“Wanna tell me what you’re doing here?”
He shakes his head. She can normally tell when he’s upset. Doesn’t it show? “I just- Kathy and I had a fight and. Dunno. I guess I wanted a friend.” He rubs his hands down his face. He sounds so lame. He is so lame. He has five kids and he’s going to be divorced from the same woman again.
He feels her hand on his shoulder and when he takes his hands away he can see the compassion overtake her features.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
He shakes his head.
”Just do both of us a favour and get it out of your system.”
Olivia’s sitting close enough he can smell the clean scent from her skin. Something like tea, maybe. It’s nice. And she’s taken down her hair so it frames her face, makes her appear soft and touchable. And her Knicks sleep shirt is old and worn. She gives the impression of someone who could be hurt, so easily. Elliot knows, he’s been willing to take a bullet for her for years.
“Nah, Liv. I- I just want to sit here.”
She nods. “Sure. We can do that.”
He tugs at her arm, and she falls next to him, her entire left side to his right.
The Knicks are still crushing it when she picks up the remote and changes the channel. It’s the Jets game he had been yelling at back in Queens.
“What, feeling sorry for me all of a sudden?”
“Nah, I want to see some real tragedy for a change.”
He couldn’t help it. He laughed.
——————-
The second time he has to call a divorce attorney is much easier than the first time. So is reading through apartment listings while he sleeps in the cribs and lives off of packed outfits he keeps in his locker.
Telling his kids he’s a failure for a second time doesn’t get any easier. His wife has decided that since the divorce is on him, since he is the one who refuses to work on *his* issues, then it should be him that lets the kids know they’re getting a divorce. Again.
Elliot doesn’t have the strength or the fortitude to fight with her on this. Plus, maybe part of him also feels guilty because while Kathy is happy to tell herself he’s an idiot man who doesn’t want to work on their marriage he is aware that actually, he is a man in love with another woman and he doesn’t want to keep living buried in denial; fighting a losing battle and being incapable of satisfying a woman who, if she ever admits it to herself, would never be satisfied with a man who wasn’t able to give her all of himself.
Anyway. He tells them he’s sorry, that he tried. That neither their mother nor himself wanted to bring them all back to this but sometimes marriages don’t work out and it’s better to accept it before people get hurt even more. That he doesn’t want them to keep living in a house of quiet resentment and loud rage.
Maureen takes it with kindness. She tells him on the phone she wishes she could be there so she could give him a hug. She tells him she’ll call again tomorrow.
Kathleen tells him she’s sad about it but that she’ll try to understand. These words coming from his little girl, the one who had to grow up so fast, bring tears to his eyes and he’s partially glad she’s not there to see her old man cry.
Lizzy cries softly, tells him she’s doesn’t want him to leave again and he has to also cry as he holds his baby daughter and swears to everything he holds holy that he’s not going anywhere, not really.
Dickie (scratch that, Rich), shrugs and pretends he doesn’t care. That he expected this because his father is a fuck up (yes, he used that phrase and Elliot was too defeated to even correct him). Elliot lets him let out his frustration, but he hugs him, and Rich lets him, and he promises his son that him and his mom getting a divorce isn’t because they don’t care, it’s because they do. The end of a marriage isn’t the end of love, and there’s plenty of love in their family, that should never be questioned by anyone.
Kathy lingers after that tough conversation. Asks him if he wants to sleep on the couch, not drive after this. Elliot shakes his head. “I’m ok” he says and he means it. He kisses a sleeping Eli goodnight and he gets out of the house, and into his car.
He sits there and breathes for a moment. He’s shocked with himself. It was hard. It was a rough day. But it doesn’t feel like an end. He turns on the engine, and heads back to the precinct.
—————————————
He’s whining about the money he has to cash out every month for his new apartment when her rent amount shuts him up fast.
“And you still won’t think about ever moving out of Manhattan?”
“Nope.”
He grumbles as he reaches above Olivia’s head to put the matching dishes she insisted he needed on the top cupboard next to his new fridge that he got second hand from a guy at the 2-7.
She’s wiping down his sink with what must be the 5th cleaning product he definitely didn’t buy.
“It’s a sink, not a level 5 hazard.”
She shakes her head as she sprays it again like it’s done her wrong. “With everything we’ve seen? It might as well be.”
“So, it’s not that you wouldn’t move out of Manhattan, it’s that you wouldn’t move out of your apartment.”
She turns around, both hands covered up to her elbow in yellow gloves and she glares at him as she blows a bit of hair out of her eyes. “Just because you found yourself a fancy new apartment - did I tell you this is a great find by the way?”
“Only a million times.”
She ignores him and turns back to scrub at the sink “Just because you found this place doesn’t mean the rest of us need to move as well.”
He grumbles again and closes the cupboard. He’s done with that one. He picks up another box labelled “KITCHEN” and he pulls at the tapes. So many mugs.
“What if you meet a guy?”
“What guy?”
“A guy, Liv. Just- a guy. A guy who doesn’t live in Manhattan.”
She’s now washing away the chemicals and he has to admit the sink is shinny. She takes off the gloves and hangs them on a metallic thingy she’d picked up on their shopping run and that had made his heart sing because what if this was his life?
“Why is my guy living outside Manhattan? This hypothetical guy would have to fix his ways and move into Manhattan.”
Half his mugs are chipped. He examines one and wonders why he kept them all. He doesn’t need this many mugs. “Maybe he works outside the city.”
“That sounds like a he problem.”
He hums. He remembers this mug. Munch bought it to Liv one year on her birthday as a gag joke. It had an alien on it and a long bit of text where the alien explained the JFK assassination plot. Elliot wonders why or when he’d nicked it from her or if she’d missed. If she had, she never mentioned it.
“Relationships need compromise.”
She nods, agreeing as she helps him take out the rest of the mugs. “I would move out of my apartment. But not out of Manhattan. What about my job?!”
‘It’s not like I’m asking you to move to the moon Liv. Astoria is right across from the river. And Kew Gardens is gorgeous and it’s an easy drive-“
“Wait, we’ve gone from me moving in with some hypothetical guy, to me moving to Queens?”
Elliot looks up and freezes. He didn’t know where he was going with this conversation. Move in with me doesn’t really flow off the tongue when you’re presumably casually chatting with your best friend who’s been kind enough to help you move house after your divorce. He opens his mouth even though he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say when the ugly mug saves his ass.
“Hey! That’s my mug!”
He smirks “You- weren’t using it much.”
She squints her eyes at him. A detective at work. “Wait- were you asking me to move in with you?”
He drops the mug he was holding. Thankfully inside the cupboard so he can easily pick it up again while trying to come up with a response that will save his face and his ass, when Olivia’s hand reaches next to his, quieting his fumbling fingers as she carefully places the mug down, and adds the alien one next to it.
“I wouldn’t worry so much about the borough - but I can tell you this, I’d never move into a place that doesn’t have a dishwasher, Stabler.”
He clears his throat and wipes his hands on his trousers, smirking at her wide, teasing smile “I’ll keep that in mind, Benson.”
They put away the rest of his things. He tells her he’ll deal with the rest of the furniture tomorrow. It’s only a couple of shelves left and the bunk beds in the second bedroom.
They leave his hard earned groceries alone and order Chinese. They eat on his new-ish couch (a find from Munch that he didn’t question) and drink his beer, and when she leaves later she hugs him goodnight, softly telling him he’s going to be alright before she’s gone from his arms all too soon.
He’s throwing out the takeaway cartons when he notices the gloves right there where she left them, dry now. He buys himself another pair, and leaves those alone. Proof that she was here.
————————————
“Kathy- no, that’s- that’s fine but… I’m on my way to the precinct now, can you come into the city to pick him up when you’re done?” Elliot drops his files on top of the car, holds his phone between his ear and his shoulder, and frees Eli from the baby seat.
He loses her voice in the elevator, yells her name at the nothing the lack of phone signal leaves behind, and his phone is ringing again when he makes it to the bullpen, Eli in one arm, files and ringing phone in the other.
He’s scanning the space, trying to figure out whether he should place the wiggling toddler down, or drop the files and the phone on the desk to secure Eli better and answer the phone, when Eli’s being lifted out of his arm and he turns around to see a beaming Olivia taking his excited son into her arms, cooing at him the entire time, completely ignoring Elliot’s existence as she takes Eli away to the other side of the room where Munch and Fin are already standing up ready to greet him.
Elliot’s watching her with what must be a stupid smile on his face (going by the disappointed head shake and judging stare he receives from Fin) when the phone starts ringing loudly again and he finally talks with his ex-wife. Yes, it’s ok that her sick friend needs her for the day, he can keep Eli no worries. Yes, she can pick him up tomorrow, he only has paperwork today and he’ll make do.
He doesn’t need to make do. Olivia doesn’t even check with him, she takes charge of Eli for the day, shrugging it off with “you get playtime and cuddles all the time, go away” and he has to bite his tongue to keep himself from letting her know exactly how eager he is to share any and all of his current (and maybe future?) babies with her.
Eli’s more than happy to be coddled by Olivia and he calls out “Viv-ya” loudly in the rare occasions he loses sight of her, before the day’s out.
Elliot is not above using his child as enticement, not at all. He exaggerates about how tired he is, and how he has to get groceries and figure out dinner now that Eli’s extended his stay with him. He makes sure Eli’s facing Olivia so she gets the full voltage of his cute little face and he has to turn his own head away to hide his victory smile when she asks if he’d like her to come along and help out.
So what if he can almost feel his heart beat its way out of his chest when all three of them get in the car, Olivia keeping up a conversation with Eli’s babbling, singing to him along with whatever’s on the radio? He’s only a man in love.
He’s reminded again of that fact when they get to his apartment and she tells him she’ll take Eli for a bath and he says he’ll throw together something quick for dinner.
They eat together, homemade mac and cheese that Eli shoves in his face in fistfuls that make Olivia smile widely, and laugh as she wipes the leftovers from Eli’s cheeks and makes faces at him, just to hear his giggles.
It doesn’t take long after dinner for Eli’s eyes to begin to droop and Elliot has to hold on to the doorway as he watches Olivia hum a lullaby, placing his son in his crib, before she turns around and sees him watching her, her eyes widening and cheeks reddening as Elliot’s hands tighten around the wooden frame from the sheer willpower it takes him to not reach out for her in that moment.
She smiles however, and tells him she has to go home. He nods, incapable of speech because he knows she should go, but he doesn’t want her to. He never wants her to. So he leads her to the door, and helps her into her coat, and thanks her, with his whole heart, and she shakes her head as he opens the door. She walks ahead but then she suddenly turns around, places her hand on his cheek, her thumb softly rubbing against his stubble and his heart is lodged in his throat when she leans in and kisses his cheek, before she wishes him goodnight.
———————————————-
“Do you live in a hovel or something?”
“What? No!”
Elliot keeps his eyes on the road ahead and holds back the various curses running around his head “Who told you that?”
Rich shrugs casually “Nobody. It’s just- I’m the first one you’ve invited to stay with you and first thing you do is take us out of the city and not back to your place.”
“Ok, first of all, Eli stays over all the time and I’d not let the baby live in a hovel. And has it occurred to you that maybe I also need some time out of the city? You think they give us mandatory leave for shits and giggles?”
Rich nods along, his brows furrowing “How did that happen?”
Elliot curses under his breath, again.
The truth was he was fine. Mostly.
Yeah, sure, Stucky is a psychopath but what else is new? Getting slashed was far from the worst thing that’s ever happened to him. Was seeing Olivia walk in while psycho Stucky had a gun and Elliot was tied to a chair, easy? Fuck, no. But he trusted her to figure it out and she did. And if he mostly enjoyed kicking Stucky in the balls because he kissed Olivia, that’s for him to know.
But, while he’s being honest with himself, Ryan’s funeral was rough. He thought it would be weird to show up to his first formal work related “thing” without Kathy. But actually, picking up Olivia from her place, standing next to her, feeling her lean against his side while Ryan’s family spoke with voices hoarse from the tears about a good man who deserved better- in all that sadness, it was actually nice that they were there together.
She was there with him through it all. Olivia knew Ryan as much as he did. Mourned him as much as he did. Understood his sacrifice exactly as he did. He didn’t have to explain himself, didn’t have to hide his sorrow, or his anger. She knew. Having her by his side felt better than nice, it was natural. So natural in fact that he only noted his ex-wife’s absence later, when busybodies asked about her at the bar. He smiled widely and shrugged, threw in a quick ”funerals and bars aren’t great places to bring a toddler”, and walked back to his partner. Completely unbothered.
He realised he hadn’t answered his son’s question. “It’s a long story but - we did lose a good man. Someone we worked with a lot. He was a friend. It’s mandatory for an officer who’s witnessed a coworker’s death to get some time away to recuperate.”
“Mom said you got injured.”
Dammit Kathy. ”I got some cuts, but it was nothing, Liv got there in time. Didn’t even need stitches.”
Rich seems impressed at that and turns fully towards him “So, Olivia saved you?”
Elliot smirks, satisfied “She sure did.”
“Is she on leave too?”
“Yep.”
Rich grows serious then, and his tone becomes biting “Wait- that’s not what this is, right?”
Elliot doesn’t even get what he’s talking about when Rich rambles on “-because if you think I’m going to just accept your girlfriend because we’ll be at the beach, then-“
“Wow, wow, wow! Slow down buddy-”
“I don’t care that you’re divorced. I’m not interested in meeting whatever slut-“
“Dickie, stop talking right now!”
Thankfully, he does, and Elliot can feel his blood pressure falling back to its normal rate after a few deep breaths.
“Don’t talk about women like that. Don’t talk about any woman like that, or we’ll have a problem, got it?”
Rich doesn’t look at him but he does turn his head down which, in Rich-talk means he’s contrite but won’t admit it. Good enough.
“We’re going to the beach to visit your grandmother. She’s been asking to see you guys and she’s old. We-“ and he indicates the space between the two of them “- clearly needed to spend some time together, and I needed some time away from the city.” He notes his son’s surly attitude and adds a mumbled “… and maybe a bit of fresh air might do you some good too.”
Rich offers no thoughts on that so Elliot takes his chance to breathe a couple more times. “And I don’t have a girlfriend. I’m not seeing anyone, I’m not dating, and even if I were that would be none of your business. Got it?”
That doesn’t seem to sit well with his eldest son who’s already voicing his objections, loudly, before Elliot even gets to complete his sentence. “- none of my business, are you hearing yourself?! What, you get a girlfriend and she suddenly joins us for Christmas? Eli calls her mommy 2.0?”
“You’re spiralling, Jesus Christ Rich, I’m not dating, this isn’t a problem for the here and now-“
“But it will be at some point, is that what you’re saying?”
Was that what Elliot was saying? He focused on the road, and tried to keep himself under control. He hadn’t been angry in a long while but Rich was finding all of his soft spots, all the unguarded parts of himself and he was angrily punching all of them at the same time.
Was Elliot going to have a girlfriend? Would his perpetually dating but never settling partner even entertain him as an idea? And if she did, would she be able to put up with his family dynamics? Would she sit next to an angry teenager and fight for them? And if she did, what if it didn’t work out?
He now wanted to punch the past version of himself for never asking why none of the others made it. Why the Michaels and Henrys and Gregs didn’t get past Olivia’s defences. What their fatal flaws were.
His love for her was so complete, he hadn’t considered about the fact that it wasn’t just about that. It was about him and his fractured family. It was about her and her commitment issues. It was about their lives not matching like puzzle pieces the way their souls did.
He wiped the sweat off his brow and grounded himself to the here and now. He still had an upset teenager in the passenger seat. He had to reveal the only truth he knew.
“Honestly, Rich, I don’t know.”
He keeps his eyes on the road, but he can sense that his son is listening closely. “I’m sorry. I wish I had a better answer for you, but I just- I don’t know. I don’t know if- I don’t know if something like that could work out for me. I don’t know if someone would want to be in such a position, or if I’d want them to, or if it would work. Or how it could work. I haven’t thought about it Rich. Between the divorce, finding a place, between trying to figure out how to not fuck it up with you guys beyond salvation, or how to come to terms with the fact that I’ve failed our family, at least in some way- I haven’t thought about that. Not- not in that way anyway.”
At some point in his rambling, Rich’s shoulders relaxed, and he let himself do the same. His son’s eyes rose to his own for the first time since they got in the car, and Elliot’s heart reached out to his boy. Who was so worried about the possibility of his family becoming something unrecognisable. Something even more difficult to handle than what it was now. His son was thinking about the future with worry, with fear, and that was on him. And on Kathy.
“We can’t live life expecting the worst from it, Rich. It’s gonna be ok.”
Rich stayed with those words for a moment, and the only thing heard in the car was the quiet crooning of some country singer coming out of the radio.
“So, Olivia’s not gonna be waiting for us at grandma’s house?” Rich asked, smirking.
Elliot chuckled, relieved. “She’d rather swim through the Hudson than step a foot in New Jersey.” Rich laughed and Elliot joined in. It wasn’t necessarily true, but he knew Olivia wouldn’t mind the ribbing, especially not if it helped his son relax. “Nah, she…” He remembered their last in person conversation, outside her apartment building, the night he drove her back home after the funeral.
“…she’s got her own ways of decompressing.”
“Meaning?”
Elliot shrugged. There was a lot about Olivia that only Olivia knew. And there was some that she shared, in pieces, only with those she deemed worthy of her trust. So Elliot held back here. A lot. She’ll probably do like- spa days and get dragged to God knows what bars by our ADA to pick up guys. Read her books and drink tea.”
Rich was nodding along, seemingly impressed. “That doesn’t sound too bad. Much cooler than your plans.”
“Yeah, thanks man.”
Rich pretended to agree that he was being useful. The little shit.
“Except for the tea part. Yuck.”
———————————-
“So, who was the lucky guy?”
“What lucky guy?”
He kept his attention on the road but Olivia put her sunglasses on and he smirked. This was gonna be a good one. “Mr April 12th, 2007, 5:25 am. I’m guessing you weren’t dressed to the nines to go pick up coffee from the corner bodega 12 blocks from your apartment at half 5 in the morning.”
Olivia let out a long-suffering breath, “Let’s just say I had to sacrifice my favourite pair of earrings in my rush to get out of dodge. And it was all Casey’s fault.”
He laughs. “‘Course it was.”
He parks, and they make their way to the precinct, Olivia giving a quick nod as a greeting to the officer at the gate and then jamming the elevator button.
Elliot holds his hand out, making sure the doors stay open as she walks into the elevator before he follows her in. He watches her as she leans against one side.
He pictures the poor bastard who had her all rumpled up in his bed and was trying to keep her there, as any man with half a brain would.
“Don’t you dare ask who it was.”
“Wasn’t going to. I was simply reminding myself you’re not a morning person.”
She rolls her eyes as they exit the elevator and walk across the corridor together, shoulder to shoulder. “I can be. Under the right circumstances.”
He’s about to pull on that string when Sonia Paxton appears at the opening to the bullpen and yells their names. He groans and feels Olivia’s hand on his arm.
Yeah, yeah. He’ll keep his cool.
———————————
”How did it go today? Did you meet your new partner?”
Elliot was still cutting Lizzie’s pasta into tiny pieces and responding automatically “yep”
He felt Kathy’s eyes still on him, expecting further explanation “And? What’s he like”
“Daddy! That’s too big a bite!”
“Sorry baby, here-“ bite was not correct. Lizzy made squirrel cheeks at him and yummy noises to make him laugh, and he loved his baby girl so much-
”Eliot?”
He clears his throat and turns to his own food, wrapping his own pasta around his fork “She. And she seems fine.”
”She?! Another woman? Are there really so many of them in the force?”
Elliot shrugs. He hasn’t really calculated the numbers. “Dunno. We’ve had a couple. We’ve got Jeffreys too.”
Kathy hums, sceptical. He wonders if she thinks he’s got the kind of pull that would allow him to pick his female partners like one picks a new puppy at the pound. Yes, I like them tall, dark, and mysterious. The longer the legs the better. Who doesn’t like a walking, talking heart attack? Thanks very much Captain.*
”Is she like Jo?”
Elliot laughs. His wife gives him the stink eye, and he shakes his head. “She’s nothing like Jo.”
Olivia Benson really is nothing like Jo Malone. It’s not the brunette/blonde thing. Jo was world weary and had 0 tolerance for, well, most things. Olivia still has that- she’s got this way she interacts with victims. Hopeful, kind. Like she wants them with all her heart to believe her when she tells them it’s going to be ok. Like she believes it, that people heal. That they can get better.
She still believes in justice, too. But Elliot can’t explain any of that to his wife. “She’s green. She needs to learn the ropes of- well, everything. Interviews, interrogation tactics. She’s read the book backwards and forwards but, it’s different when you have to practice on real people.”
”Sounds like a lot of extra work for you.”
Not really. Olivia didn’t seem like the kind of person who doesn’t pull her own weight. And then some. “It’s all par of the course. Someone taught me, too.”
Kathy wouldn’t let it go for the rest of the day. They cleared the table together, did the washing up, helped the kids with homework, bath time, and all the time his wife kept asking. Is she married? No. Does she have a boyfriend? Dunno, didn’t ask. Will she make it in the unit? Time will tell.
Elliot started feeling like he was keeping a secret. The more disinterest he showed, the more he tried to talk about other things, the more she pressed the subject. He kept telling himself, it wasn’t about him. It wasn’t about Olivia either. Yeah, sure, she was a beautiful woman. She was a regular firecracker too. But what was the point of saying that to his wife, drawing attention to it, like it mattered?
Eventually they went to bed, and she finally let it go.
Of course, a couple of days later she popped by the precinct with the twins “To say hello” she said, but Elliot knew better. And it only took a quick scan of the room for her to clock in the young brunette sat with Munch, head thrown back in laughter, her voice throaty and deep, her long neck in full exhibit, Cassidy with a stupid enamoured smile on and always within 6 feet distance of wherever Olivia was, like a dog on a lead.
Kathy nodded to herself a couple of times, and turned accusatory eyes to him, like he did something wrong. Like he made a wish to the universe for a fantastic woman for a partner and Cragen moved his wand like a goddamn fairy and there she was.
He should have known from the start, that he was doomed to fail. And it wasn’t because of his feelings, or because of Olivia. It was because when two teenagers marry because of a baby there’s always a question that remains unanswered. What if.
And no matter how hard they both tried to fix it, ignore it, tell themselves it doesn’t matter, the questioned remained. And it ended them. Twice.
————————————-
“What kind of company offers cosmetic surgery as a work benefit?”
“One I wouldn’t want my kids to work for.”
Olivia grabs the last spring roll and turns to him, satisfied with herself, her cheeks full like a squirrel. “If we had it as a work benefit, what would you use it for?”
“Dunno, I kinda like the boobs I already got.”
She pokes him with the back of her chopsticks, laughing.
Time passed, perps came and went, the kids started decorating the extra room in his apartment, Eli was now toddling all over the place on uncertain legs, and Olivia coming over to spend time with him, or just for dinner and quiet conversation, became normal. Not something she did to help him keep his head above water.
“My mom would-“ she started, and then braced herself. He gave her time, knowing some things took a lot out of you to be given life. “She’d tell me I need a liposuction.”
Elliot freezes mid noodle slurp, and turns slowly to face her. “You need a what now?”
Olivia shrugs, casual. “She was obsessive about weight. I was always quite slim, mostly because of the gym hours I’d regularly put in. I’ve cut back a bit in the last couple of years and, you know, growing older, well-“ she stares pointedly, clearly has done this before, past her waistline, her thumb brushing the hem of her sweatshirt, indicating her general perfection.
Elliot waits, but she doesn’t offer any further explanation. And? “And?”
“… I’ve put on weight.”
…And? “… And?!”
“And she would tell me to zip it or nip it.”
Elliot shudders. The gall. “Well, you won’t catch me speaking ill of the dead but- she would be wrong. You don’t need anything. You’re perfect.”
Olivia chuckles “No need to stroke my ego, Stabler, it’s ok I don’t mind the bit of extra weight, not really.”
“You shouldn’t mind at all because it’s- you’re-“
He knew he had a functional brain but right now it felt like it was short circuiting at the worst possible moment. Because there were definitely descriptive words, respectful descriptive words he could use to express what he made of her soft places and curvy- her curves, but all those words were escaping him now, clearly falling off a cliff as his eyes inevitably drifted to the- and then his military training had to kick in so he could stare at the TV across for them, watch the Yankees get their asses handed to them while Olivia kept on laughing at his discomfort.
He felt her shift closer to him, and lean her head on his shoulder. “You’re cute, Stabler.”
He turns his head, now his nose brushing against the crown of her head and he can’t help himself as he drops the softest of kisses right there. He feels her freeze and his heart stops beating, but only for a second, because Olivia relaxes, and lets the rest of her weight fall into him.
Later, she’d dozed off, half leaning against him, and he’d turned the TV volume to zero as to not disturb her. He felt his own eyes growing heavy and he knew they’d both be aching in the morning if they slept like that on the couch. She was cozy in the sweats she had changed into before she drove from her place to his. He figured, she could sleep in them.
He got to his feet, and slowly, he put one arm around her shoulders, and one under her knees, and lifted her as smoothly as he could into his arms.
“Hmm- can’t carry me over the threshold when we’re already inside.”
“No thresholds I’m afraid, we’ll have to make do with the doorway.”
He lowered her to the bed, and could see her eyes had half opened. “Sleep, take my bed. I’ll sleep in the other room.”
She moved further up the bed, and scooted over to the side across from him “Don’t break your back on that bunk, we can share.”
Elliot did some quick calculations. Was she testing him? He didn’t know what the rituals were for when your best friend is too tired to drive back home. He wouldn’t share a bed with Munch, or Fin. But Olivia wasn’t them, she was- all curled up like a cat and she smelled nice too.
Oh, and he loved her.
He scratched the back of his head. She offered. And Olivia doesn’t offer things she doesn’t want. Ergo, she wanted them to share a bed.
He had to be fast because she was also temperamental and if she believed *he* was questioning it, she’d take it back before he could even get a toe under the covers, so he quickly took off his bottom sweats, pulled on his sleep shorts (he didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable by sleeping only in his boxers), and got under the covers.
He turned to face her and was greeted by her profile, soft from the streetlight outside his apartment. She turned, her breath warm against his collarbone. Her pinky found his under the covers—like they were 12, like it was easy.
“Elliot?”
“Yeah?”
“… I’ll be hungry in the morning.”
He smiled widely, tightened his pinky around hers. “I’ve got bacon and eggs.”
She hummed, satisfied.
He held on to her finger, grateful for having that, now. Calmer than he’d ever felt before, even with something so simple. If he hadn’t made the choices he did, if he hadn’t gone through the hurt, he’d have never had this.
He drifted off to a restful sleep.
——————————
“So, what did the doctor say?”
Elliot kept checking Eli’s packed necessities, all the baby items and toys, making sure he didn’t forget anything. “I’m fine. Hardheaded as always, apparently. No damage to the bone structure, nerves working normally, no concussion.”
Kathy nods along, mindlessly swaying Eli on her hip. “And you’re ok to be on your own?”
“I won’t be. He’ll be there too” he indicates the toddler in her arms and smiles widely at his own joke, closing the bag and straightening to his full height.
She ignores his attempt at humour. “You know you can stay here, right? The kids won’t get confused if you crash on the couch for a couple of nights till you get the all clear.”
Elliot shakes his head. He feels fine, but also, he does think it would be confusing for the kids. Especially for Lizzy. “Thanks but, I’m fine.” He reaches out and takes Eli, switching him to one arm as he lifts the bag with the other.
Eli babbles something in response which Elliot chooses to interpret as enthusiastic affirmation.
He lifts up his head and clocks his ex’s questioning gaze.
“Oh yeah, who’s checking in?”
Oh. He hadn’t expected this line of questioning from his ex wife. Elliot sways on his feet backwards, slowly making his way to the door. “The guys from work. My Captain.” He shakes his head at himself. He doesn’t need to protect himself anymore. He doesn’t need to be ashamed of having someone important in his life. Plus, they’ve been divorced for a few months now and there was nothing… untoward going on. “And Olivia, of course.”
She lets out a mirthless chuckle, running one hand through her hair as she pretends to take him at his word “Of course.”
He exhales and takes a moment. “What do you want me to say, Kathy?”
“Nothing. I guess I’m glad you at least admit it.”
“I’m not admitting anything you don’t already know. She’s my friend. My partner. My emergency contact. Of course she checks in on me. She picked up my meds at the hospital for God’s sake.”
He still remembers waking up at the hospital, not knowing where he was or what happened, but he could hear Olivia’s voice saying his name, could feel her fingers wrapped around his hand, and he’d calmed down.
They’d explained that he had been thrown off the side of a building. Olivia’s eyes wouldn’t stray far from him and he understood. If he’d been in her shoes he’d have lost his god damned mind. So he let her fuss over him, and he allowed himself to enjoy being cared for, for once.
“And I suppose Eli calls for “Liv-ya” because you and her only catch up about your welfare, right?”
He feels his hand tighten around the bag, the way she mockingly repeats something that had brought him so much joy-
Kathy tries to pin him with her gaze, like she’s making some big reveal “Did you think we wouldn’t notice, Elliot, really? When you’ve been gallivanting around cool as a cucumber, never bothering to pop in other than to pick up or drop off the kids?”
For God’s sake. “Since when do you like me dropping by unannounced for no reason? We talked about this - It’s better for the kids to have a clean break. To have clear rules about schedules and pickups and everything.”
“Please, Elliot. Don’t pretend it’s about the kids. At least give me the courtesy of admitting I was right.”
You just need to get it out of your system
Elliot feels like she’s slapped him across the face. He thinks of Olivia’s smile when she woke up next to him a few days back. He thinks of the worry in her eyes whenever he’d so much as wince at the hospital, before he got the all clear. The anger when he finally told her, after she squinted at the mark on his face, that Sonia had slapped him for giving her a piece of his mind about her methods.
”What if it had been me, Elliot? What if one of our ADAs had slapped me right after I got released from the hospital?”
Elliot had felt rage unlike any other sweep inside of him picturing the scene, and the same rage was sweeping inside him now.
He didn’t want to get it out of his system. She is his system.
He let the gentle weight of his baby ground him. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, Kath.”
He didn’t bother giving her any other responses. He hoisted Eli more securely in his arms. “I’ll bring him back day after tomorrow. I’ve got to be at court at 9 so I should be here around 8am.”
He wished her goodnight and heard her whisper it back. Her defeated gaze hurt him, but there wasn’t any guilt there, keeping him tethered. Not anymore.
————————————
It was early afternoon, the sun was still high on the horizon, Rich had met a couple of friends who’d dragged him to the beach and he wouldn’t be back until sundown.
Elliot was sat in his mother’s front porch, relaxing, with a cold beer, reading through the day’s messages on his phone. Suddenly, the screen door creaked open and shut, and his mother made her way to him. She sat gingerly in the chair across the table, ice tea in hand, shawl around her shoulders and her eyes to the sea.
They sit in companionable silence and Elliot wonders how long it will last.
“How’s that knockout partner of yours?”
Not long at all. He can’t help the smirk at his mother’s newly minted predictability.
“What do you know about my partner?”
Bernie lifts a shoulder, sips her tea. “Your ex-wife and I do talk on occasion you know.”
“Yeah, well, there’s a reason why hearsay is inadmissible in court.”
“So your partner’s not a knockout?”
Elliot huffs “Which one? According to Kathy they were all knockouts.”
His mother’s eyes gleam at that revelation. “Was that it then? She was jealous, you broke up?” She huffs to herself “Kathy had seemed smart enough to keep her insecurities to herself, as much as she could.”
He shouldn’t think on that, he really shouldn’t. The porch squeaks under his weight with his movement, and checking his phone proves there’s nothing there that can save him from this conversation. “Momma, no offence but other than my priest, I don’t really talk about my marriage.”
Bernie smiles like she knows all she needed to know, and she’s just messing with him. Which is probably true. “That’s ok dear. Let’s talk about your partner then.”
His dissatisfaction with that line of questioning is obvious to the trained eye, and his mother presses her point. She’s annoying like that.
“I can’t help being curious! Katie talks about her on the phone often enough, they must see a bit of each other?”
He leans his head to the side in silent agreement. His middle daughter has shown an affinity with Liv. They often talk in low voices in the second bedroom of his flat, lounging on the single bed, Katie sometimes speaking in fast, exuberant tones, making Olivia laugh quietly. Other times the younger woman is more subdued, Liv getting her out of her head with soft words and a hand softly brushing back her hair.
He doesn’t want to explain how much it all means to him. “Liv is- she’s got a good heart. If she sees someone struggling she wants to do something about it.”
“Hm, reminds me of someone else I know.”
“Mm, she’s better at getting the right results.”
“So she did tell you?”
He pulls back, confused. “Tell me what?”
Bernie fiddles with the edges of her shawl, her attention out to the sea again.
“Momma, tell me what?”
“It was a while ago. I figured she’d have told you, eventually. I thought, maybe-“
He tries not to get impatient with his mother’s roundabout way of talking and sticks to his original question. “Tell me what?”
“She came to see me. After you- anyway, she wanted my help, with Katie, we went to see her when she had her… incident.”
There’s a gap in the puzzle in his mind of the turbulent time when Kathleen almost ended up in prison, and he only now realises its existence.
He’d been so relieved when his little girl had decided to accept the reality of the situation- he was happy to accept it as godly intervention. He should have known it had been Olivia all along.
“She didn’t say anything about it.”
He started fiddling with his phone. His heart was beating fast, and he had a sudden need to see Liv. To hold her, to find a place to fuel his gratitude-
“I did ask her not to tell you. I didn’t think- to be honest it seemed like the kind of thing a woman in love would find a way to mention.”
“You don’t know her, Momma.”
She smiled widely. “So it seems. She’s a special lady.”
He doesn’t bother verifying the obvious. He leans back and now, with all their cards on the table and all his feelings explained, mother and son can watch the sunset in peace.
——————————————-
He shouldn’t have worried about courting (he is an old man) Olivia. They started a relationship when they met. It was a partnership, and then a friendship, and really all he needed to do was to keep dancing and trust the process.
He is a man of faith, and really he simply needs to believe in them.
It’s only natural that their relationship deepens. That he touches her more freely now. They’ve shared a bed, more than once. To sleep, of course, but still. He feels much more confident placing his hand at the back of her waist, when they move from one room to another. Standing right over her shoulder when they’re talking to a suspect.
She’s probably not used to this pace when it comes to romance and yet she follows his steps. She lets him lead with no fuss and that gives him a lot of confidence- he knows she’s not one to shy away from taking the reins.
She mirrors his progress when he makes it. He tested it out.
He’d invade her space in the elevator when they were alone. She’d lean into him. He’d place his arm around her shoulders when they were watching a movie, sat on his couch. She’d drop her hand on his thigh. He’d bury his nose in her hair, obviously taking in her scent. She’d nuzzle her face against his shoulder.
He’d kiss her lips softly, and he’d drink in her satisfied hum. He’d ask (beg) her to stay, stay, and she’d lead the way to his bed.
They were re-threading their existence around each other under a different set of rules and he was loving the process of it, the quiet certainty of their movements.
And then a ripple.
He was so attuned to her he clocked it immediately.
They had a Friday night screening (he liked to think of it as date night). Normally it wasn’t his day with Eli, but Kathy had had the flu and he offered her an extra day of rest.
Olivia’s satisfied laughter had flown straight into him as he opened the door to his apartment, holding Eli so his tiny face would be the first thing she’d see as he opened the door.
”Can ya stay with him for an hour? I need to run for groceries and it’s easier if I don’t bring him along.”
Olivia hadn’t even blinked, before she extended her arms, Eli squiggling his way to her eagerly.
He shopped, he parked, he got his keys out and opened the door humming to himself because he could hear her in the kitchen. He hung his jacket and took off his shoes and there she was, yellow gloves on, cleaning the sink. Again. He made some stupid joke about her and her recurring battle with the poor old thing.
His first clue was the lack of a comeback. He paused. He walked closer and she didn’t turn to him. He started worrying. He put his hands on her shoulders. She flinched. He pulled back as if burned.
His brain started working overtime.
There was no way this was her getting cold feet. If agreeing with him that her rarely used car was a “steel death trap” (his words, not hers), and allowing him to find a way to sell it didn’t give her cold feet, nothing would.
He picked the first scenario. “Where’s Eli? Did he give you any trouble?”
She shook her head. Even the mention of Eli seemed to brighten her mood “You know he’s the sweetest baby.”
She steeled herself and he thanked God this woman never shied away, never let fear keep her from the truth. “Kathy came by. She was feeling better and- since you’ve been working a lot of overtime she figured you could use the rest more.”
He shuddered. Tightened his fists.
He was deliberate then, when he stepped right behind her, when he made sure their bodies were aligned, when his arms, calmly, definitively, moved around her waist and pulled her into him, his face in her hair, her back against his chest.
It was slow, the way her body eased. First her head fell back a bit, her shoulders relaxing. Then her hips shifted into his, and he happily held most of their combined weight while they calmed.
“I’d hug you back but- gloves.”
He tightened his hold, kissed the side of her face. Then he tugged her gloves off and let them drop in the sink. Forgotten, with her right there with him.
“How about now?”
She turned in his arms, and placed hers around his waist, her fingers weaving together around his back.
“Only if you’re sure- El. I know what I want. I’ve known for a long time, even back when I shouldn’t have wanted it.”
He rubs his nose against hers. “You think it’s been any different for me?”
Her eyes are glassy and if she cries, he will too. “I- I wasn’t sure. I thought so, but-“
“Whatever she said-“
“No. Just- forget that. Whatever you say now, I will believe you.”
He nods, pulls her even closer to himself until her face is tucked into his shoulder. Sheltered. Safe. “Don’t question it then. You’re it for me, Liv. It- yeah it took me a long time to admit it because I’m a dumbass, but- I’ve always known.”
He feels her nod into his shoulder, and he just holds her there.
He can’t help himself. He needs to know what it is that he must protect her from. “What’d she say to you?”
“No, Elliot. We’re not gonna do that.”
He grumbles but won’t let go. “Like hell we’re not.”
She pulls back enough for their eyes to meet. “El- it’s not about what she said, or about what she thinks. It’s about us. And if- if you tell me this, *us* is as important to you as it is to me, that’s all I need to know.”
He pushes a few strands of hair behind her ear “‘Course it is, baby.”
She agrees and he wonders if it’s to reassure him or herself, as she rubs her hands up and down his arms.
He feels the foundation of them shift again, when Olivia chooses, for the first time, to initiate contact. When she moves one hand to the back of his neck, when she tugs him down to her, and kisses him like she’d waited a decade to prove a point.
It’s hours later that he gets her playful side back when he tugs her naked body to his, snuggled in his bed and says “feel free to take the reins any time baby”.
That earns him a kick to his shin and her freezing toes to his calves.
He wouldn’t want it any other way.