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Chapter Text

Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she had a hard time believing she was still Olivia Benson. For months now she has played the part of someone else, wondering if that's who she was meant to be all along had she given in to the more off-putting part of her genetic code. Half of my genes are drunk, the other half violent and cruel. A thought that had plagued her entire existence, coming to life one night as she spoke with Elliot after a particularly taxing case. He reassured her that it wasn't always about the genes, that it simply came down to loving your offspring. Laughing bitterly to herself, she cracked her bruised and bloody knuckles. She would say it's unfortunate that she was never really loved as much as a Stoli bottle during her formative years…but conveniently that lack of nurture made the nature of her undercover persona that much more credible.

Running her fingers through her hair, she raked through her dark chestnut curls once more, tousling them to her liking. She turned her head to each side, examining the dark shadow on her lid from every angle, ensuring that it was even. Using her pinky, she swiped at her lower lid, blending and smoking the onyx eyeliner out a bit more. Moving down her face she adjusted the nose ring on her left nostril, happy that she was no longer wincing in pain every time she touched it. God, that piercing had sucked. When her handler had suggested it, she had all but laughed in his face. The only thing stopping her was the sobering realization that his suggestion meant she would be undercover for longer than a few weeks. Faking attributes such as a piercing is easy if the assignment is short-lived, not so much if she we're going to be around the faction she was infiltrating every hour of every day for months on end. At least the subsequent lip piercing was somewhat painless; never as tender as when she would accidentally brush her fingers against it. Shaking her head, she brought herself back to the present, reaching for the dark plum lipstick on her bathroom sink. Using a lip brush, she skillfully applied an opaque layer, taking care to not dirty the small silver ring on the right side of her bottom lip. She took a step back from the sink and stared at herself once more; her eyes more hollow than hopeful, her face more solemn than sunny.

There she is…Irina Novikova.

By the time she had reached the VIP lounge downstairs, the club was packed and the music was blaring. She could barely hear the heels of her thigh high leather boots click against the tile as she headed towards the corner of her usual section, taking note of a few of her associates already lain about seemingly drunk or strung out on the substance of the night. Taking a seat on an available chaise, she felt the hem of her little black dress ride up her thighs, just barely covering the curve of her ass on the seat. Olivia leaned back and crossed her legs, settling in for the moment as she observed the crowd. She thought about her younger days, and how often she had gone out to similar places with both dates and friends alike while she was in college. It's inconceivable now how she never gave a second thought to what might have been lurking in the backrooms of those establishments, to the possible danger she was putting herself in back then. As she watched the crowd of young people dance and drink, she said a silent prayer that none of them would purchase anything from her associates tonight, knowing fully well that wouldn't be the case. It's made her sick over the past few months how many of them have gotten hooked on the drugs her organization is peddling, how many fall too deep into debt that they can't climb out of…often paying for their misdoings with their bodies or, in some cases, their life.

"Irina, my dear. You're looking as deadly as ever."

Forcing a smile, she turned to look at the approaching man she gets to call her partner in this alternate reality, her hand reaching out to accept the vodka glass he was presenting as a peace offering. Never breaking eye contact, she downs it in one shot.

"Don't think this makes up for last night, my love."

He clearly didn't miss the venom seeping out of every word as he held up a finger and reached into his pocket, producing a small baggie filled with a fine white powder. She sat up straighter, swinging her legs around to touch the floor.

"Better not be wasting my time with weak shit, Mikhail."

"Never. It's our newest shipment, straight out of Puglia. Wanna have a taste with me?"

Internally she rolled her eyes, as he motioned with his head for her to follow him to the bathroom. Everything in her wanted to tell him to get lost and that she wasn't in the mood tonight but that would be Olivia talking, not Irina. Irina loved this life. Irina doesn't turn down drugs or sex…or drug-fueled sex, which is exactly what Mikhail was aiming for with his proposition. It was a shame. In a different universe, she wouldn't have found Mikhail to be all that bad, in fact there was a very real possibility she would have been easily seduced by him. Dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, muscular physique…yeah, Olivia Benson would've likely said yes to a date or two. A thought that made the notion of having to fuck him all the more bearable. Collecting herself, she stood up and sauntered towards the bathroom, confidently swaying her hips with each step. Opening the bathroom door, she immediately felt a strong grip around her bicep as Mikhail grabbed and shoved her into the first open stall, closing the door. His hands instantly moved to her thighs, pulling her dress up to her waist before reaching behind her to palm her cheeks. Doing her best to looked turned on instead of annoyed, Olivia bit her lip and pushed her lower half against him. As he leaned into kiss her, she held a finger to his lips and cocked her head to the side.

"Breaking a promise already?"

She watched as realization dawned over his features and he reached back into his suit jacket to produce the small baggie he had stored there. Pulling her necklace from between her breasts, she grabbed a hold of the small spoon-like charm as he opened the bag. Taking a small scoop she raised the charm to her nose, snorting the opioid-like substance as he quickly pocketed the remains. Still waiting for the drug to take effect, Olivia made the first move and captured his lips in a bruising kiss, doing her best to delay the inevitable. She faked moans as his hands pawed at her body; groping her breasts before traveling lower toward her exposed lace bottom. Needing to breathe, she braced her hands against his chest pushed him off of her. She could hear his belt buckle jingle as he undid it and swallowed thickly as she heard the familiar sound of a zipper being lowered. Her nerves were quickly subdued by a rush of warmth and she thanked whoever resided up above that the drug was starting to kick in just when she needed it. Turning around to face the side of the stall, she pushed her ass out against him, letting him know she was ready for his taking. Leaning into the euphoria taking over her body, Olivia barely registered when Mikhail thrusted himself inside of her, which, coincidentally, is the way both she and Irina needed this to be.

They emerged a few moments later, gathering a few knowing smirks from their employees, but truth be told Olivia was feeling too good to care. She dropped down onto one the couches dramatically, Mikhail joining her, running his hand along the exposed skin of her thigh. Feeling a vibration against her leg, she pulled her lower half away from him and kissed his neck.

"Baby, can you get me another drink? Please?"

Mikhail returned her kiss, releasing her lips with a smirk.

"Absolutely. I'll be right back."

She watched as he disappeared into the crowd and pulled out the burner phone that was wedged between her inner thigh and the leather of her boot. Placing it to her ear, she answered discreetly.

"Yes?"

"Olivia, it's Fin."

"What can I do for you?"

"I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't call you outside our scheduled time, but you've gotta problem down in collections."

Darting her eyes over to her left, she could see her associates were otherwise occupied, not that they would outwardly question her authority. Out of an abundance of caution she lowered her voice to an octave barely above a whisper.

"What kind of problem?"

"The feds didn't want you to know, but you need to…your guys are bringing in Richard Stabler. Now."

Jerking to an upright position, Olivia felt her heart rate begin to climb, fighting against the effects of the opiates she had just ingested.

"You...you sure it's him?"

"Yeah. I don't know what he's gotten himself into, but you need to get out of there, he'll blow your cover."

"How much does he owe?"

"Liv-"

"How much does he owe, Fin?"

She could hear her him exhale on the other end of the line, and closed her eyes, bracing herself.

"45 G's."

"Fuck," She spat out, rubbing at her temple with her free hand. "All right, all right…I'll take care of it."

"Liv no, I called you so you can get outta there. We will-"

"They'll kill him, Fin…they'll kill him. I'm not waiting for either party on this one."

Hanging up, she quickly tucked her phone back into her boot. As she stood, she could see Mikhail making his way through the crowd, vodka in hand as promised. She strolled over, meeting him halfway and snatched the drink from his grip.

"Impatient, I see. Where are you off to?"

Raising the glass to her lips, she met his gaze and shrugged.

"I don't know, but it's getting a little stale down here. I might just take a walk, get some fresh air. Want to join?" She asked knowing full well he wouldn't.

"No, I'm waiting on some friends. Don't be gone too long?"

"Wouldn't dream of it." She assured as she kissed the side of his mouth.

He reached down to give her ass one last squeeze before heading back to their section. She walked forward through the crowd, doing her best to move at a leisurely pace and not alarm anyone else to where she was going. Reaching the side door, she turned back to make sure no one was watching as she slipped through. As she ambled down the corridor, she felt herself fill with rage.

Fucking Dickie Stabler. Really? Where the hell was Elliot? Kathy?

She downed the rest of her vodka; throwing the glass down to the floor next to her, not even flinching as it shattered, sending small crystal fragments everywhere. As she turned the corner, she could hear muffled sounds coming from one of the rooms at the end of the hallway. Continuing forward, she approached the door and cracked it open just enough to see the eldest Stabler boy sitting in a chair in the middle of a barely lit office space. Two of her men were standing over him, and she let out a sigh of relief that no one higher up was handling this situation.

"Ivan, Sergei…mind if I join in on the fun?"

The young men turned to look at her, welcoming smiles on their faces.

"Not at all, Ms. Novikova. To what do we owe this pleasure?"

As she strode further into the room, she locked eyes with the young Stabler. To her benefit, he was bound and gagged, clearly unable to even utter her name. If he was surprised to see her, his face didn't show it and she made a mental note to compliment him on his poker face after this was all over.

"I've gotten a little bored waiting for our friends upstairs. Perhaps you can tell me what the problem is with our little friend here?"

"Kid thought he could be some big-time dealer for us, but ended up using and losing most of our product. About 45k worth."

Olivia nodded, making her way over to the center of the room. She bent over in front of Richard, until she was face to face, her hands on his shoulders.

"Guess we got in over our head, huh?"

She saw him gulp and discreetly squeezed his shoulder in reassurance before turning back to her men.

"Who's gonna be looking for him? Did you check his next of kin?"

Ivan and Sergei looked at each other before answering, "He's a college kid, emancipated, lives alone in some dump of a studio in Queens."

Emancipated?

Shaking her head in annoyance, she turned back to Richard.

"You've got a family, kid?"

He nodded furiously. Whirling around, she made her way over to the two idiots who unknowingly just made her plan a whole lot easier.

"Oh boys…please don't tell me we're detaining our young fellow without knowing what we're putting ourselves up against. Run his name. Now."

Sergei nearly tripped over himself as he hurried over to the computer. Typing in Richard Stabler's name, Olivia could see that he was indeed emancipated from Elliot and Kathy, their names showing up nowhere in relation. Pushing Sergei out of the way, she played around a bit, her knowledge from her era in Computer Crimes coming in handy. After a few moments she managed to pull up Elliot's file, showcasing all of his demographic information including the names of all of his children.

"Well, it seems like we have the son of a retired NYPD Detective sitting with us tonight," Olivia announced. "Tell me, does your father know what you've been up to?"

Richard's response was muffled by the duct tape around his mouth. Pushing away from the computer desk, Olivia crossed the room and roughly yanked the silver strip from his mouth.

"Come again?"

Taking a deep breath, he looked up at Olivia.

"I said…my father doesn't know the details. He does, however, still track my phone."

"Kid's bluffing!" Ivan shouted.

"And if he's not? Congratulations you've just led the NYPD to one of our main headquarters, quite an impressive skill for two schmucks such as yourselves."

Sergei and Ivan stood motionless, noticeably terrified of the woman in front of them.

"If you both want to leave here with your life after this ridiculous fuck-up…I suggest you let me handle this."

"Yes, Ms. Novikova," they muttered simultaneously.

Olivia watched them cross the room, both men avoiding eye contact with her as they exited the office. As soon as the door was closed, she whipped around and scowled at the young Stabler in front of her. Much to her annoyance he didn't even bat at eyelash at her growing rage; instead, in the most sarcastic tone that only a child of Elliot could muster, he greeted her for the first time tonight.

"So…how've you been?"

Chapter Text

Olivia didn't think that she would come across anyone else in her life that had the ability to be as infuriating as Elliot Stabler. However, she must admit, looking down into the identical blue eyes of his son and hearing his sarcasm dripping out of his mouth, she may have found a match.

"Ya know, I'm really really not in the mood for this."

Reaching into her left boot, she pulled out a pocket knife and strolled around to the back of the chair to cut the duct tape that was currently binding Richard's wrists. Once they were free, she handed him the blade, allowing him to cut through the rest of the tape that was restraining him. Walking towards the door, she shook her arms out at her sides, doing her best to bring herself back down from the high she's been riding. While the adrenaline had helped somewhat, she has to admit Mikhail had certainly brought her some good shit. Hearing the last bit of duct tape being torn away, she turned on her heel and walked back towards the young Stabler.

"Can I at least explain?" He asked.

"I don't want to hear it. Right now, I just want to get you out of here."

Grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, she shoved him towards the door.

"Take a right and keep on walking," She ordered.

Olivia could see Richard stealing glances at her as they walked silently, side by side. She was sure he had questions, but to be honest, now was simply not the time. As they came to the end of the corridor, she steered them left and towards the side exit.

"All right, listen to me. This will lead you down the back alley of the club. You're gonna head towards Amsterdam and-"

"Irina!"

Whirling towards the voice, she instinctively put herself between Richard and the approaching figure.

"Mikhail. What are you-"

"The police are upstairs and they're moving quick. We need to go. Now."

"I can't just leave…we've got a situation that I'm trying to take care of."

Mikhail looked over her shoulder, seemingly noticing that they had an audience for the first time.

"Leave him, we'll take care of him another time. I don't want anything to happen to you, moya lyubimaya."

Shaking her head, she pushed Mikhail away.

"No. No loose ends. We'll split up, just let me know where to find you."

Leaning forward she captured his lips in a kiss, preventing him from speaking any further on the subject. A loud bang pulled them apart and Mikhail took off running down the hallway that she and Richard had just come from. She could hear the sound of multiple footsteps coming towards them and nudged the young Stabler towards the exit, their jog quickly becoming a run as they heard shouts and gunfire behind them.

"If it's the cops, why are we running? Shouldn't we just wait here?" Richard panted.

Stopping her sprint, Olivia pulled them into a room at the end of the corridor just before the exit. Putting both of her hands on his shoulders, she shook him slightly as she whispered frantically.

"If I get caught, I'm dead, ok? If you get caught, your father will hear that you were picked up during the raid of a Russian mob front. Call me crazy but it doesn't sound like a position that either of us want to be in."

"Ok…ok…good point, I guess. How are we getting out of here?"

She indicated towards the door they just veered away from.

"You're going to go out exactly as I instructed, but I'm going to find my own way. It's best if we're not seen together."

Richard nodded, but made no move to leave. He could hear more gunshots coming from somewhere behind them, and gulped nervously.

"It's ok, I've got your back. Go." Olivia insisted.

Finding his footing, Richard peered out into the hallway and took the four or five steps to the exit, slipping through the door undetected. Looking around, Olivia realized that she likely had no way out. If she wanted to avoid being seen with Dickie by either NYPD or her affiliates, she would have to wait a minute or so to give him a head start. However, she became increasingly aware that she no longer had that minute and that an officer was likely to come around the corner within the next thirty seconds. Scratch that, ten seconds. She could hear the footfalls stop outside her door and quickly ducked behind one of the large storage shelves against the wall. As the unidentified person entered the room, she could see the outline of their gun; the stance the person held screamed NYPD. Holding her breath, she waited until the individual walked past her shelf and further into the room. She looked towards the door, estimating that if she were quick, she might just be able to sneak out the exit after all. Balancing herself on the soles of her feet, she was careful to avoid having the heel of her boots click against the floor as she crept towards the door. As she put her hand on the knob, she felt the familiar sensation of cold gun metal against the back of her skull.

"Don't even think about it… put your hands up and turn around slowly."

Feeling her anxiety spike, Olivia took a steadying breath. She can't surrender; the mob will off her. If her cover gets blown and she's revealed to be a NYPD Lieutenant, they'll put a hit out. If her cover miraculously doesn't get blown, they'll assume she was released because she became an informant and they'll still off her. Trembling, she did as she was told and came face to face with a youthful looking officer. She sized him up quickly; he definitely looked green. As he reached for the walkie-talkie on his belt, she immediately reached up to grab his gun, twisting it out of his grip and sending it flying across the room. Olivia managed to land a hard kick to his side, and scrambled back towards the door. However, the officer recovered much more quickly than she had anticipated, grabbing her by her hair and slamming her head into the brick wall. Grunting in pain, she brought her hands up to defend herself as the scent of iron filled her nostrils. The officer managed to wring a cuff around one her wrists before roughly pulling at her arm to get it behind her back. She felt her shoulder pop and cried out in agony as he cuffed her other wrist. Bleeding and writhing in pain on the hard cement, she heard him make a call over the radio before she slipped into unconsciousness.

"Detective Washburn here, I'm down in one of the storage rooms at the far end of the club. I've got a suspect in custody, I repeat I've got a suspect in custody."

When she awoke, she was sitting upright in the backseat of a rather large SUV, a black cloth bag over her head. Panic began to liven her senses as she realized this certainly wasn't NYPD protocol; perhaps she was being taken in by another government entity entirely. As the car began to slow, she shifted in her seat uncomfortably. She was restrained, unarmed, injured and completely unaware of her surroundings. Not quite the situation that would bring one relief. She felt the cool night air hit her bare arms as the back doors opened, but it was quickly replaced by the warmth of human hands. They gripped her good arm roughly, tugging her out of the truck and assisting her as she steadied herself on the pavement. She allowed them to lead her forward, listening intently to every sound they made. She could hear the rhythmic beeping of a keypad, the metallic buzzing of a door as they were granted entry, and eerily enough nothing else. Whatever space she entered was quiet, offering her no insight into her location.

Light suddenly assaulted her eyes as the bag was yanked from her head. As her surroundings came into focus, she could see that she was standing in the middle of some industrial office area. To her immediate right was a young girl clutching a manila file to her chest. Brown hair, blue eyes, multiple piercings along her ears; she looked as if she couldn't be more than twenty years old. A shadowy figure approached her from her left and spoke before she could fully turn her attention to it.

"…Liv?"

No.

No, no, no, no, no.

It can't be. She has to be hallucinating…maybe she's still high. Looking over, she realized that this was no hallucination.

It was Elliot-motherfucking-Stabler. In the flesh.

She wanted to scream.

It's been hours since the not-so-green Detective Washburn had led her into an interrogation room and left her there. Her hands were now handcuffed in front of her, the chain connecting the cuffs looped through a small metal ring that was welded into the table. She winced as she sat back in her godly uncomfortable chair, the pain in her shoulder mirroring that of a dull knife attempting to slice through her skin. As she took a deep breath in, the door opened, and in walked the person who had walked out of her life just a few short years ago. Black Henley shirt, faded blue jeans and black boots…she hated to admit it to herself, but he looked good. He had shaved his head, grown a goatee and appeared to be a bit more muscular than the last time she saw him. As that last thought floated through her mind, he folded his arms over his chest, the veins in his uncovered forearms bulging as he did so. Hmm. Ok. A lot more muscular.

"Liv…you wanna tell me what's going on?"

Hearing her name on his tongue made her skin crawl.

Refusing to meet his gaze, she sighed and crossed her legs under the table. Out of the corner of her eye she could see him nod and purse his lips. He sauntered over, stopping once he was in front of her. Flattening his palms on the table, he braced himself as he leaned over her.

"Liv-"

"My name's not Olivia, it's Irina…Irina Novikova."

Looking up at him, she could see the surprise on his face. This was clearly not a route he expected her to take, but honestly? Fuck him. Until she is pulled out by her handler, she is still on the job. She watched as his brows furrowed and his mouth made a small o-shape.

"Ok. What were you doing at the club, Irina?"

Olivia smirked as his mouth twitched. He was very clearly irritated with her and it brought her an immense amount of satisfaction.

"Just having a good time is all. Is that a crime nowadays? Speaking of crimes, I'd like that young hothead brought up on charges. Police brutality."

Elliot's eyes narrowed, "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about your dumbass Detective Washcloth who cracked open my skull and dislocated my shoulder."

Olivia watched as Elliot stood up straight and made his way around the table. Stopping behind her, he placed one hand on her injured shoulder and the other on her bicep, grasping it tightly. In one swift motion, he jerked her arm upwards, a satisfying crack reverberating around the room as he popped her shoulder back into place. Olivia screamed out in pain, her whole body lurching forward as she pulled her wrists back towards herself in reaction. She scowled at Elliot as he pulled out the chair to her right and sat down, but his oceanic eyes were no longer angry.

"I'm sorry he hurt you…believe me, he'll answer to me for that."

Feeling nearly three years of repressed emotions bubble up at his soft words, she turned her head. She'll be damned if she lets him see her cry.

"…do you need to go to hospital?"

She shook her head no.

"Irina, do you know where you're sitting?"

"I don't particularly care."

"I work with the Organized Crime Bureau-"

"Good for you," Olivia interrupted. "If I'm being arrested and booked, can I get my phone call?"

Elliot held her gaze as he clenched his jaw.

"You can…but I don't think you understand. I'm just trying to help you."

Unable to contain it, a loud bitter laugh escaped from Olivia's throat.

"Help me? You wanna help me?"

Lowering her voice to a whisper, she continued.

"I could've used your help a year ago…in fact I was ready to beg for it, but you know what I realized? What an absolute fucking waste of my dignity that would've been. I don't need your goddamn help. Not then, not now, not ever. Are we clear?"

Elliot's face became unreadable as he gave her a curt nod.

"Fantastika. I'll take my phone call now."

Chapter Text

It took about an hour for her to be released after contacting her handler. Some calls were made to the higher ups in Organized Crime, including Elliot's sergeant, and her imminent release was demanded. She couldn't help but smirk at Elliot's face when he came in to uncuff her; he was red, boiling with anger. He never liked losing out to the feds, not that she was ever quite fond of them either. Still, it felt good to get under his skin after all of this time. If she had her way, he'd be feeling more than just slightly irritated. Feeling his eyes on her as she had exited, she turned back to look at him. His baby blue eyes bore deep into hers from across the room and she shuddered at the depth of emotion she could feel coming from him. She turned back to the door quickly and left, leaving him with no more information than he got from her in interrogation. As it should be.

Now, Olivia found herself walking along the desolate areas of Long Island City heading towards Jackson Ave, a more populated area, so she could find herself a cab. Reaching down into her boot, she grabbed her burner phone and opened it to a message from Mikhail. He left her an address as to where he would be but she decided to bypass that for tonight, she simply didn't have the energy. She quickly shot him a text that that she needed to lay low and would find him tomorrow. Snapping the phone shut, she turned her attention back to the desolate streets of Queens and attempted to hail a cab. It was getting cold. Her tiny black dress and boots were not enough to keep her warm in the crisp New York City fall weather. Lowering her hand, she opted to walk a few more blocks to one of the many cheap motels located in LIC. She knew of one that was fairly new and therefore probably cleaner than most.

The young man sitting behind the front desk eyed her as she walked in, not so subtly checking her out as she approached to check-in.

"Any rooms available?"

Getting nothing but silence in return, Olivia cleared her throat, effectively brining the young man's eyes from her breasts to her face.

"I'm so sorry…how may I help you?"

Leaning forward, she smacked a crisp $100 bill on the counter.

"A room. Now."

The minute she walked in to the minimal yet modern room she took off her boots and put everything she was storing in them onto her bedside table. Grabbing her dress from its hem, she pulled the black spandex up and over her head, leaving herself in nothing but her matching black lace set. Exhausted, sore, and in desperate need of a shower, Olivia padded over to the bathroom.

As the bathroom illuminated her in soft white light, Olivia nearly leapt back in surprise at her appearance. Her hair was a tangled mess. Her head wound had stopped bleeding but she still had a few lines of dried blood staining her face and a nasty purple bruise beginning to form on the right side of forehead.

No wonder no cabs stopped.

Turning on the faucet, she grabbed one of the face towels and scrubbed, cleaning herself off. As her eyes drifted downwards, she could see that her head wound had caused her to bleed all over herself. Drip marks stained her neck, her arms, her chest…she shivered as a flashback threatened to take over.

Breathe Olivia, breathe. He's in prison. You're ok. You're ok.

Closing her eyes, she took three deep steadying breaths as she clutched the porcelain sink in front of her. As she opened her eyes, she noticed something peculiar in her reflection and looked down. A laugh bubbled up from her throat, slowly becoming more hysterical as she pulled the small plastic baggie out from one of her bra cups. Ironic. Mikhail somehow maneuvered it in there while he fucked her in the club bathroom; now here she was, in her motel bathroom, needing nothing more than to get fucked up. Anything to take the pain away and keep her nightmares in the dark where they belong. Shaking the baggie in her hand, she emptied the contents onto the counter and separated it into three messy lines. Darting back to her night table she grabbed one of the dollar bills and carefully rolled it up before returning the to the bathroom. She inhaled shakily, momentarily debating if this was really what she wanted.

Screw wants. This is what she needed.

Lowering her head, she snorted two lines before standing up and wiping the underside of her nose. Eyes closed, breath steady, Olivia relished in the peace she was feeling as everything around her slowly became just a little fuzzier. She was, in fact, feeling so peaceful that she nearly missed the sound of someone knocking on her door. Feeling her head get heavier, Olivia stumbled her way to the motel door making sure to peak through peephole first. As brown eyes met blue she groaned, allowing her head to fall against the door with a thud.

"Olivia, please. Open up."

Annoyed beyond belief, she swung open the door without a second thought to her current state and yanked Elliot inside, allowing the door to close with a slam.

"Irina. My name is Irina. If you're going to talk to me then you better get used to fucking using it."

She cocked her head to side as Elliot stared, not even bothering to hide the fact that his eyes were roaming her body.

"Liv-uh…I didn't realize I was interrupting your shower," he stated as he looked towards the open bathroom door. "If you'd like to get dressed, I can- are you ok?"

"I'm fine, you seem to be the one with the problem. Why are you knocking on my door at 3am?"

She stood still, holding her ground as he continued to gawk at her.

"Please just get out. I don't have the energy to deal with this right now."

As she turned to walk back towards the bathroom, Elliot closed in on her backing her up until she was flush against the wall. She tried to avert his gaze but he roughly grabbed her chin between his thumb and pointer finger, bringing her attention back forward.

"Are you…are you high right now?"

"Are you crazy? Let go of me." She demanded as she pushed at his chest.

Shoving at him quickly proved to be useless as his newfound muscularity turned him into a boulder of a man.

"Answer me."

Half-naked and pinned to the wall, Olivia felt herself panicking and banged her fists against his upper torso.

"Elliot, let go of me, I mean it!"

"Just answer my question, Liv."

Her breathing became more and more erratic as her mind pushed forth unwanted memories. Suddenly it wasn't Elliot's body against hers but Lewis'. Holding her down on the bed, forcing his gun in her mouth…

"Elliot please." She begged, as tears stung the corners of her closed eyes.

She could feel him pull away, releasing her jaw. Opening her eyes she could see that he was longer in front of her but had slipped into the restroom.

Shit.

"What the fuck is this?" He demanded, motioning towards the counter.

"What the fuck do you think it is?" She countered, grabbing the black bathrobe off a nearby hook and wrapping it around her body. "Can you please just get to the point of why you're here?"

"Stop trying to change the subject," Elliot shouted. "When did you start doing drugs?"

Shaking her head, Olivia avoided his gaze once more and looked at the black television screen in front of her bed.

"I'm undercover in a major drug and sex trafficking ring, Elliot. All of my associates use recreationally, I had to blend in."

Scoffing, he walked back towards her.

"Interesting, are they here now? Cause I don't know maybe I can't see these invisible associates of yours but what it looks like to me is that you're sitting a fucking motel room by yourself snorting that shit up your nose." He raged.

"So what if I am, huh? What are you going to do? Report me to my superiors? Go ahead, Elliot I truly don't give a fuck."

The honesty of her words struck even her. She really didn't care what would happen to her should she be reported and taken off of the case. It would be a relief. She also didn't care what would happen to her job with the NYPD. Fuck being a Lieutenant, it was hard to care about anything anymore.

"I'm not going to report you, Liv. I'm just worried about you. This," he paused as he motioned up and down at her figure. "This isn't you. Your behavior in interrogation was not you. I know…I know it's been a few years and that things change…but shit, Liv I never thought that when I'd see you again I wouldn't know you."

Laughing bitterly, she turned abruptly and walked towards the door.

"Yeah? Well, I don't know you either. The Elliot I knew would have never put his papers in without discussing it with me. He would've answered my calls, my texts…and he sure as hell would have never walked out of my entire life without a goddamn word. So, before you start giving me this bullshit about how much I've changed, I think you should take some time to self-reflect…and before you feign care for my well-being, I think you should care about your family first."

Furrowing his brows, Elliot's stance became defensive.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you should talk to your son and ask him how he ended up owing my guys forty-five grand. The only reason I got caught and maimed by your idiot of a detective was because I was too wrapped up in helping Richard escape. He nearly blew my cover to hell."

She watched as Elliot's mouth opened and closed on its own accord for a moment before he snapped it shut.

"Go home, Elliot. Like you always do."

With that, Olivia opened the door, signaling that this conversation was over. He obliged, making his way over to the exit and coming to a stop just outside her door.

"For the record Liv, I have never had to feign care. How I feel about you…I've felt it since the moment you walked into my life sixteen years ago. And I never stopped."

She watched as Elliot turned and walked down the hallway, her throat tightening from her restrained emotions. Slamming the door, she stalked back towards the bathroom and picked up the rolled dollar bill to take her last hit. As soon as she snorted, she felt the tears begin to fall, wetting and washing away the dried blood on her cheeks.

Elliot was right. Olivia Benson as he knew her, as she knew herself, was gone.

And she didn't know if she'd ever come back.

The next morning proved uneventful as she woke up to a single text message from Mikhail telling her to meet him at one of their warehouses along the Hudson River in lower Manhattan. She stopped by her FBI given apartment to shower and change before making her way over there, swapping out her thigh high boots and little black dress for something more comfortable. She opted for a simple white tank, distressed skinny jeans and her black combat boots. Stopping by her coat closet, she grabbed her leather jacket and made her way out the door.

Olivia managed to get to lower Manhattan in record time. It appeared that cabbies were far more likely to stop for her now that she was properly cleaned up. As she walked up to the warehouse, she heard the scraping of metal as the rolling steel door retracted. Entering, she could see that she and Mikhail were not alone, but that Ivan and Sergei were there as well…along with the head of their organization, Volkov.

This isn't good.

Her anxiety began to take over as she heard the rolling security door close, officially sealing up her only escape route. Mikhail strolled forward and grabbed her by the hair roughly before capturing her lips in a bruising kiss.

"My love…I think you have some explaining to do."

Using his grip on her hair to move her, Mikhail led her to what looked like a dentist's chair in the corner of the warehouse.

No. No, no, no.

"Mikhail, what the fuck are you doing?"

Stopping, her released his grip and spun her towards him, his eyes cold and hard.

"What am I doing? What are you doing? You blew off our meetup last night. Where did you go?"

"A shitty motel in Long Island City…I told you, I needed to stay low."

Volkov walked forward out of the shadows of the back of the warehouse, staring curiously at Olivia.

"You did…but there's also a chunk of time unaccounted for that I would like to examine. Just for my own peace of mind." He queried as he approached.

She stayed quiet as Volkov loomed over her, trying her damndest not to look intimidated.

"Get in the chair. Before I make you get in the chair." He threatened.

Frozen to the spot, she looked over at Mikhail who was also apparently getting angrier by the second. Before she could react Volkov took one arm and Mikhail grabbed the other, the two men picking her up and unceremoniously throwing her down onto the seat. She kicked and shoved at them, doing her best to yank herself out of their grip but it was no use. As soon as they got her in, they fastened her wrists with leather straps to each chair arm and her legs to the bottom of the recliner. Her chest heaving, she looked up at the two men exasperated.

"Four against one? This is hardly a fair fight." She joked.

Volkov smirked as he reached for something on the metal tray to her left. She shivered as a scalpel came into view, her eyes never leaving the instrument.

"You think this is funny? Well I'll tell you what. I don't find traitors funny. I'm going to give you five minutes to explain to me what you were doing from the moment you left my club to the moment you checked in to that motel. And if I don't like what I hear?" He paused, grabbing at her jaw and forcing it open.

"I'll make sure you never speak again."

Chapter Text

Closing her eyes Olivia contemplated her options, which unfortunately in her current restrained state, were limited.

Perhaps a half truth?

Yanking her jaw out of Volkov’s grip, she held his intimidating stare as she took a deep breath.

“All right, all right. I got…semi-caught on my way out of the club.”

“Semi? What do you mean semi?” He growled.

“Some detective from NYPD grabbed me right after I split from Mikhail…” She turned to him. “Remember our goodbye in the hallway?”

Mikhail gave a curt nod.

“On my way out that West exit, he got me. This dude slammed me face first into the brick wall and down onto the ground. You can see my head wound. I woke up cuffed in the back of an unmarked van and, honestly for a second, I didn’t know who had actually taken me.”

She kept her gaze on Volkov, watching his face as he absorbed her story.

So far so good.

 “That same detective returned to the van to get me after about 20 minutes. And when he uncuffed me, I made a run for it. He hit me, tried to tackle me, and ended up dislocating my shoulder in the process. I had to pop it back in. If you don’t believe me, you can see for yourself it’s still swollen and bruised.”

Olivia watched as Volkov moved towards her with the scalpel in hand. Shoving her jacket off of her left shoulder, he sliced the strap of her tank top, exposing the left side of her bra.

“Lean forward.”

Grunting in pain, she used her still restrained wrists to pull herself forward in the oddly angled chair. She let out a groan of pain as he poked and prodded at her obviously engorged shoulder blade.

“Satisfied?” She asked, a sheen of sweat starting to cover her forehead.

Volkov wrapped his hand around her throat, forcefully shoving her back into the seat. She looked up at him, unfazed by his threatening display of masculinity. Whatever expression she had plastered on her face seemed to be working as she could see in his face that he had no legitimate reason to question her story. At least for now.

“So that’s it? You’re telling me you just woke up in a police van…and escaped?”

“Yes,” She exhaled. “I don’t know how long I was out. It’s not exactly like a watch went with my outfit last night.”

She could hear Sergei and Ivan chuckle in the background, earning a scowl from their leader. Volkov turned back to Mikhail, tossing the scalpel in his direction.

“Do what you want with the bitch. Just let me know if we need a replacement.”

Mikhail nodded as Volkov made his way towards the back exit, Sergei and Ivan following wordlessly.

Olivia dropped her head back against the head rest, looking over at Mikhail with as much as a loving gaze as she could offer.

“Baby, please. How many times do I need to prove myself? I could have been killed last night. I should have been killed last night, and I still came back to you.” She explained.

She could see his resolve wavering, his tough outer exterior melting for the woman he not only worked with but had developed feelings for.

“Please, moya lyubov. Let me go and let’s get back to work.” She begged, tugging at her leather restraints.

Mikhail stepped forward, running his fingers through her hair. Lowering his face to hers, he captured her lips with his, kissing her softly before roughly biting down on her lower lip. She let out a yelp as she tried to pull her face away from his but his hand in her hair prevented her from doing so. When he let up, she could feel the blood dripping down her chin and tears sting at the corner of her eyes.

“Betray my orders again…and I’ll kill you myself.”

As she walked down the hallway towards her apartment, she contemplated how she was going to fully win back Mikhail’s trust. After the warehouse interrogation he had let her go, but not before injecting a tracker into her arm. That fucking raid has proved to be a huge setback for her, and she wasn’t sure if she would be able to recover.

Fumbling with her keys, she finally got her door open and all but threw herself inside as she slammed the door shut behind her. She hurried through the industrial loft like space, stripping off her jacket and tossing it on the back of her couch as headed towards her kitchen. She opened the corner cabinet and reached for the whiskey on the top shelf, not even bothering with an accompanying glass as she popped the top off and took a long swig straight from the bottle.

“Thought you Russians liked your vodka?”

She spun around at the very familiar and very unwelcome voice.

“Yeah well, I never really liked the stuff. At least if I’m drinking whiskey, I can tell myself I’m not my mother.” She bit back. “What are you doing here? Do you have any idea how much scrutiny I’m under thanks to your fucking kid?”

Olivia watched as Elliot’s eyes hardened for a moment.

“Yeah, I know. I took all necessary precautions coming here. I won’t even be on video camera entering your flat, don’t worry.”

Brushing past him, she exited the kitchen and headed back towards her living room area. As she sat down on the worn tan leather couch, she leaned forward, taking in another mouthful of the smokey caramel colored liquor before resting her forearms on her knees.

“Eight months. Eight fucking months of giving everything…all of myself…for it to end like this. Huh.” She thought out loud as she let out a bitter chuckle.

She stared at the bottle in her hand, turning it over, examining the label. While the burn was good, it wasn’t the euphoric release she was currently chasing. She took in another gulp before setting the bottle down on her coffee table. She felt his presence before he came into her peripheral view, settling down next to her on the couch.

“How can I help you, Liv?”

Help me? Really?

 “You can’t. I’m in too deep and they’re too suspicious. I’m practically their property.” She said softly as she showed Elliot her newly inserted tracking device. “I’m done when they say I’m done…or if my handler ever pulls me out.”

“Why haven’t they?” He asked, accusingly. “This is ridiculous, eight months and they don’t have enough to bring your organization down? Are they just sitting around with their thumbs up their asses?”

“No, they’re just…it goes really deep. The sex trafficking, the drugs, the money…it seems never-ending. Who I know as the head of our organization may not even be the head of the organization, just our faction.”

She rubbed a hand over her face absentmindedly, wincing when she hit her lip. Pulling her hand back she could see the blood drip down her fingers and groaned. Before she could get up, Elliot was already gone, disappearing into her kitchen and reappearing moments later with a damp paper towel.

“Let me see.” He insisted.

Reluctantly, Olivia turned towards him. She wanted to scream as he gently caressed her cheek, his thumb lightly tugging at her bottom lip so he clean up the split skin. She hasn’t spent any time with him since he walked out on her without a word. They haven’t addressed it, the whole situation looming over them like one big dark cloud. She doesn’t know what he’s been doing in his absence. Has he been with Organized Crime this entire time? How are the rest of the kids? Kathy? Did he know about…

No.

Her mind stopped that thought before it could finish itself. The last thing she needed to do was have a flashback in Elliot’s presence. As she refocused and brought herself back to the present, she was caught off-guard by a small smirk on Elliot’s face.

“What?”

“Just these…” He smiled as he lightly tapped her nose and lip piercings. “…I never had you pegged for a piercing person but…they look good on you.”

She took a deep breath and removed Elliot’s hand from her face.

“I can’t do this.”

“Do what?”

“This, Elliot! Are we seriously going to sit here like the last three years didn’t happen? As if you would even be talking to me right now if I wasn’t brought down to be interrogated?”

“Liv-“

“No! I swear to god if any excuses are about to come out of your mouth-“

“I went to try to speak with you 5 months ago.” He interrupted. “I went down to the precinct, saw Fin…he told me you were undercover. I did want to talk to you, I wanted to explain everything…I had just gotten back-“

“From where?”

“Italy. I was overseas for the last couple of years.”

Italy. He wasn’t even in the U.S. She didn’t even know where to begin and shook her head in disbelief. God, she really needed a fix right now.

“Olivia please, I want to have this conversation. I do. But right now, I’m more preoccupied with making sure that you’re ok because you’re clearly not.” He murmured as he gathered her hands in his.

“I’m fine.”

“Liv, you’re drinking pretty heavily, you’re using…god only knows what, and you are beaten, scarred and microchipped. Please…let me help you.”

She felt her stomach churn at Elliot’s words; he didn’t even know the half of it…but she could see that he wasn’t about to just let go of the parts he did see. Staring into his familiar baby blue eyes, she felt her resistance begin to wane. She wanted to trust him. She wanted to lean on him. She wanted out of this fucking life but who was she going back to? What was she going back to? She had no apartment, no place to live, her relationship (if that’s what you could even call it) with Brian was rocky at best, and work? Forget it. The amount of debriefing and therapy they would require her to go through before she could rejoin her squad…it just didn’t seem worth it.

“Elliot…my life is over. All I have is finishing this case, I can’t stop now.”

“Fine, my task force will help you.”

Olivia scoffed, pulling her hands out of his grip and rising off the couch.

“Sure. Let me just tell the feds that my ex-partner doesn’t think they’re doing a good enough job so he’s going to babysit their operation.”

“It’s not babysitting but goddamn it Olivia I don’t give a shit what the feds think. You need back-up. Real back-up. The Russians are already tracking you, we can hop onto their signal and know where you are at all times. We can establish an emergency code for you, we can make sure you’re safe. Please.”

Grabbing the bottle of the table, Olivia took a long pull before feeling Elliot rip it out of her hands. She glared at him as she walked around the back of the couch and headed towards the platformed area she called her bedroom.

“You need to leave.” She called over her shoulder.

“No.”

“It’s not a request, Elliot. I have a job to do tonight and you need to get the fuck out of here before Mikhail shows up.”

She could see Elliot stiffen at the mention of the man’s name.

“Who’s Mikhail?”

Sighing, she sat down on the white comforter, toeing off her combat boots before tucking one leg under her.

“He’s my…partner so to speak. I work for him, I work with him, and I do whatever he needs. Distribution, collections, you name it.”

Nodding, Elliot gestured towards her face.

“Did he do that?”

Forcing her grimace into a sad smile, she nodded.

“I do whatever Mikhail asks of me. I belong to him, both on and off the clock.”

She could see Elliot’s wheels turning, trying to decipher just how literal her statement was. Turning away before she could see the realization dawn on his face, she got up off the bed and walked over to her dresser. She pulled out a strappy black lace body suit and dark blue jeans, tossing them onto the bed behind her.

“Liv…” Elliot began, his voice slightly strained. “Has he…did he…”

“Don’t worry,” She assured as she gathered her suit jacket and heels, before turning back to Elliot with hollowed eyes. “Irina likes it.”

Chapter Text

Her hands gripped the sides of the porcelain sink securely as she squeezed her eyes shut. She could feel the heat of his breath on the side of her neck with each thrust, a dull pain mounting as her head repeatedly thumped against the wall behind her.

“Oh baby…you feel incredible.”

Unable and quite frankly unwilling to respond she offered him a forced moan instead. Opening her eyes, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror behind Mikhail’s shoulder. Her mascara was smudged to her cheekbone from the perspiration gathering on her face, a mix of both hers and his; her lipstick was smeared down her chin. She was a mess, in more ways than one. Silently cursing the club industry’s need to have mirrored walls in every bathroom, she tore her eyes away from herself and returned her focus to faking pleasure. He was already taking up more of her time than she desired but attributed his lack of sexual efficiency to his recent usage. She too had partaken…but nearly as much as Mikhail did, which meant that she was the one who had to take the lead tonight.

“Oh fuck. Ohhhh.” Mikhail groaned.

She gave a silent ‘thank you’ to whichever deity got him to finally finish and shoved him off of her. Hopping down from the sink, she reached over to the napkin dispenser in an effort to clean herself up before adjusting her rather revealing black body suit and pulling up her dark blue skinny jeans.

“What’s with you tonight?” Mikhail questioned as he tidied himself up as well.

“Forgive me, I’m not particularly in the mood to be at your pleasurable disposal after your stunt this afternoon.” She growled.

“Milashka, if you didn’t give me a reason-”

 “I never gave you a reason to doubt me. Don’t forget that. And now? Now, I need to go do your job and schmooze my way into a deal with the Albanians because you’re too fucked up to do so.”

Mikhail moved forward backing her up against the sink yet again, his eyes dark and his voice low.

“Don’t disrespect me. Not here, not out there, not ever. You work for me. You do as I say. You’re mine.”

Collecting herself, Olivia casually put her attitude away and slipped back into Irina’s more submissive persona.

“I’m sorry. Please let me handle the deal tonight. Let me prove to you that you have no reason not to trust me.”

While she could see he was still heated, Mikhail nodded once in her direction and departed from the bathroom. Not that he would admit it but he truly was too fucked up to fully participate in this deal tonight. From what little information she could gather, the Albanians were here to discuss and possibly negotiate territory; it was important that this meeting go off without a hitch. As far as crime families go, they were two very volatile groups of people and she wanted to keep everything as peaceful as possible tonight. As she cleaned up her face and reapplied her deep crimson lipstick, she took a deep breath. Running her hand once more through her straightened hair, she composed herself and walked back out into the club. As she made it halfway across the dance floor, she could see Mikhail speaking with two men and motioning towards her. Turning on the charm she sauntered over, climbing the few stairs to the VIP lounge. Before she could properly introduce herself, a stocky looking man came over with a huge smile on his face.

“You must be Irina. We’ve heard a lot about you.”

Cocking her head to the side, she studied the man in front of her. He looked harmless enough and she had trouble imagining someone like him working with such a ruthless organization.

“If you’ve heard it from this one…” She started as her eyes flickered over to Mikhail. “…then I can’t imagine you’ve heard anything good.”

The man in front of her let out a genuine belly laugh as he held his hand out.

“Name’s Reggie Bogdani. It really is nice to meet you.”

Smiling she took his hand, allowing him to lean down as kiss the back of it before pulling her over to the seating area. She gently pulled out of his grip as she sat down in the corner of the leather sectional, taking the one seat that equally faced all of the other couches and loungers. She crossed one leg over the other as her arms rested on the back of the couch, striving for a combination of both casualness and dominance.

“So, what brings you to our neck of the woods, Reg?”

“Right down to business, I respect that. I hope you don’t mind but we’re waiting on a couple more.”

“I figured as much. Guess you’re not our leading man this evening?” She teased gently.

Reggie let out a small chuckle, but his jolly mood seemed to flatten.

“No, no…that would be my uncle. Albi Briscu.”

“Albi the Albanian. I like it. Should we get a round of drinks for everyone?”

Before she could gesture for a waiter, a larger man with a shaved head and striking blue eyes made his way up the stairs. His face was stoic, his presence strong. Clearly this man was here for business and business only; the polar opposite of his amicable nephew.

“We’re waiting on one more if you don’t mind.”

His gruff voice left no room for argument and she nodded as he sat down in the oversized lounge chair directly across from her.

“I don’t mind at all, Mr. Briscu. Can we get you anything in the meantime?”

The man gave a quick shake of his head, eyeing the woman in front of him.

“No, I’m fine for now.” He turned his gaze towards Mikhail, who Olivia could tell was trying his best not to look as high as he was. “While I appreciate the pleasantries, I want to make it clear this is not a social event for us.”

“We understand that.” Olivia responded as Mikhail bobbed his head in agreement. “By the way, Mr. Briscu, I will be handling tonight’s meeting. Kindly bring your attention over here when we’re ready.”

Surprised but amused, Albi Briscu turned himself towards Olivia. She couldn’t tell if he was impressed or annoyed but appreciated his compliance nonetheless. She watched as he took her in, seemingly trying to determine if her calm, cool exterior was simply a front. After all it’s not often that a woman would take charge in what is typically a good old boys club.

“Hey Eddie! I’m glad you made it, man!” Reggie shouted at the approaching figure ascending into the VIP area.

Olivia’s eyes widened slightly as Elliot came into view. While she was not expecting to see him, he certainly didn’t look shocked to see her.

 Are you fucking kidding me?

“Sorry, I’m late. Hope I didn’t miss anything important.”

“Nah man, we we’re just about to get a round and talk. Have a seat.”

Dressed in a baby blue short-sleeve button down and black jeans, Elliot made his way over to the couch. Her eyes held his as he sat down next to Reggie, only dragging her gaze away when she heard Mikhail loudly clearing his throat in what she assumed was jealousy.

“Do you two know each other?” He grumbled as he sized up Elliot.

Yup. Just fucked me twenty minutes ago, but he’s still an insecure little asshat.

“No…but she looks like my kinda girl. Yours?” Elliot responded nonchalantly, as he very obviously ogled her body to get under Mikhail’s skin.

“Yes, actually she is. And I don’t share.”

Completely unnoticeable to the three other men, Elliot’s jaw twitched and his fingers involuntarily flexed; a sure sign he was ready to hit the schmuck in front of him at any moment.

“You two aren’t going to start fighting for me now, are you? I thought we were all professionals here.” Olivia taunted as she smirked.

“No, they’re not, we’re here to make a deal. Not engage in a childish pissing match.” Albi grumbled. “Eddie, surely you can keep it in your pants for the next thirty some odd minutes?”

That stupid boyish grin that Olivia loved so much spread across Elliot’s face as he shrugged.

“Great, let’s get to it then.”

Thankfully, the Albanians proved to be very efficient and both parties were able to come to a suitable agreement. ‘Irina’ and Mikhail had allowed them some leniency regarding selling their product in Russian territory as long as they received a considerable cut of the profits. Within the hour a standing figure was agreed on and Albi Briscu was on his way out the door. Both Reggie and Elliot had stayed behind, enjoying a night of drinks on the club’s tab, now relaxing in the once tense reserved section.

“How long have you guys been…business partners?” Reggie cracked, wiggling his eyebrows at the latter part of his inquiry.

“Hmm, what would you say my love? About nine months?”

Rolling her head around and cracking her neck, she hummed in agreement.

“I gotta give you props, I don’t know many people that mix business with pleasure. Even my uncle and his wife keep their work separate. Gotta be rough.”

“Well, it helps when your partner knows their place,” Mikhail started. “In fact, we had to have a little reminder earlier this evening.”

Olivia flinched in disgust as he reached out and gripped her chin. She looked over at Elliot, who looked like he was more than done with this man tonight.

“Just send her back to the kitchen why don’t you?” Elliot sassed as he took a swig of his beer.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying…she did all the talking tonight and you’re still acting like the alpha. Pretty dick move, if you ask me.”

“Eddie,” Reggie warned. “Come on man, cool it.”

Mikhail released his grip on her as he rose to his feet, challenging the man in front of him. Olivia rolled her eyes as the pissing match that Albi had expertly avoided came roaring back to the present.

“She led tonight because she asked me to and that is how we are able to mix our business with pleasure. Requests and permissions. I can understand that you’re a little sour as I don’t wish to share my property, but I’m sure you can find some desperate woman on the dance floor to scratch that itch for you.”

“Property? You see her as property?” Elliot growled, rising to a standing position himself.

Olivia took it as her cue to also get up and off the couch, coming to a rest at Mikhail’s side.

“Let’s not do this, we just made the deal and we don’t need to ruin it.”

“Shut up, Irina. This is between me and our new friend Eddie here.”

“But baby-“

“I said, shut the fuck up!” Mikhail roared as he whirled around and backhanded Olivia across the face. She stumbled as she tried to stay upright, but was immediately knocked to the floor as the two men came to blows.

“Eddie stop! The fuck you doing man?” Reggie yelled as he clawed at Elliot’s shirt.

From her position on the ground, she chanced a look up at the two men brawling above her. Mikhail was badly bloodied but still attempting to hold his own as Elliot showed absolutely zero mercy. He had moved on from his face and was repeatedly landing punches to Mikhail’s torso, causing him to double over as he tried to protect himself.

Crawling away from the chaos and towards a nearby armchair, Olivia used it to get herself back on her feet. She then joined Reggie in grasping at Elliot, managing to press her lips close to his right ear without anyone taking notice.

“Enough, El.”

Hearing Olivia whisper his real name brought him out of his rage fueled world. He looked over at her, her eyes wild and a bit frightened. She was scared of him? No, no. She was scared of the situation he just created.

Shit.

What the fuck did he do?

Chapter Text

He fucked up.

He knew he fucked up the moment Olivia said his name and yet he wasn’t sorry. At least not for defending her; that stupid prick deserved every blow he got and Elliot would gladly do it again in a heartbeat. The bastard really thinks he owns Olivia? No one does. Not even him. Sure, throughout their partnership Elliot had acted like jealous asshole whenever someone so much as looked at Olivia a little too long, but it came from a place of protection. None of those guys were good enough for her. None of those guys could appreciate the force of nature that was Olivia Benson. A woman whose independent spirit and individuality should be appreciated, revered. A woman who should be taken care of, given back the amount of love and attention that she gave and continues to give to so many others. God, he had really screwed up leaving her.

Taking a deep breath, he scratched at his beard and focused on the crunch of the gravel beneath his feet as he made his way through his back gate and into his garden. It was a rare night for him, being able to come home instead of sleeping on a much too worn-in coiled mattress in his Winnebago. Well, Eddie’s Winnebago. Turning the lock, Elliot pulled back the sliding glass door and entered the apartment coming face to face with a tired looking Bernie at the stove.

“Mama…what are you doing up at this hour?”

“I don’t know. Couldn’t sleep so I’m making some chamomile.” She said with a whimsy wave of her hand. “Would you like a cup?”

“No, no. I’m good.”

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Elliot! What happened to your hands?”

Looking down, he could see his knuckles covered in blood; dried streaks covering the back of his hand.

“Oh this? Don’t worry about this, I’ll get cleaned up. Why don’t you go lay down Mama and I’ll bring the tea over when its ready.”

Bernie eyed him cautiously as she turned towards her room.

“All right but…please be careful, ya know. I don’t want to receive that call. I’ve had enough traumatic NYPD experiences with your father to last a lifetime.”

Smiling, Elliot rubbed his palm up and down Bernie’s arm.

“Don’t worry, everything’s fine. I promise.”

He watched Bernie slowly make her way to the guest bedroom as he washed up in the kitchen sink. As he took a mug out of the cupboard and began pouring the boiling water, he heard a thump against his front door and immediately reached for the gun in his waistband. Making his way to the front door, Elliot quickly glanced into Eli’s room and noticed the bed was empty. He remembered something about a soccer game, perhaps he was coming home late? Keeping the safety on his weapon for the moment, Elliot looked out the peephole seeing a familiar irate brunette on the other side.

Shit.

Tucking his gun back in his waistband, he took a deep breath and steadied himself before opening the door.

“Liv, look I’m-”

His half-assed apology was quickly cut off as Olivia lunged at him, wrapping her hands around his throat and shoving him back against the opposite wall using her body weight.

“You stupid son of a bitch! I told you to back off!” She hollered.

Recovering from the initial shock, Elliot gripped at Olivia’s hands trying to pry them from his neck. As he gave her a look over, he could see the recent damage that had been done. Her left eye and cheekbone were sporting fresh bruises and she had what looked like a massive scrape on her upper right arm and shoulder; her eyes were wild with rage as she stared him down.

Fuck. He shouldn’t have run out with Reggie the way he did. He should’ve made sure she was ok.

“Liv…Olivia stop! I don’t want to hurt you!” He panted as her grip tightened even more.

“A little fucking late for that, don’t you think?”

He grunted with effort as he pulled at her fingers. Jesus, she was strong. Noting the muscles flexing in her upper arm, all he could think of was that apparently she too had been working out in his absence. Moving his hands from her wrists to her shoulders, he pushed off against the wall and propelled himself against her. The two of them flew back against the front door, their positions now reversed. Olivia cried out as the door knob jabbed her in the spine, causing her to loosen her grip on Elliot. Before she could recover and continue her assault, he pulled her off of the door and against him, his chest against her back as his arms wrapped around her front in a straitjacket like grip to keep her from hurting him or herself any further.

“Let go of me! You fucking prick, get off of me!” She yelled hoarsely as she kicked her legs out in front of her.

“Olivia, please. I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to cause any more pain. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I just wanted to help you. You wouldn’t let me help you. I just wanted to help.” He murmured into her hair.

He felt her resolve waver a bit, her bodily movements becoming less erratic as the exhaustion crept in and took over. Unbeknownst to Elliot, she had barely slept the past few days since she was taken in by his bureau. With the amount of suspicion she had raised in aiding Richard escape, she had been working overtime to prove her loyalty but now? Forget it. She wouldn’t be surprised if Mikhail had already searched their database for an Eddie Wagner and while he may not be the smartest man, she’s pretty sure that it was only a matter of time before he or the organization realizes that the father of Richard Stabler and Eddie Wagner share a very eerie resemblance.

After another minute or so Elliot felt the full weight of her body collapse against his as her legs gave way. Holding her up against his chest, he wondered when she was last able to sleep soundly. Without the club life, the drugs, the men that beat her, touched her -

No. He won’t let his head go there. Not right now. Not tonight. Tonight, was about making things right and giving her peace. Well, as much as he could anyway.

Adjusting himself, he turned Olivia so that he could slide one arm under her legs as he kept the other around her back. She didn’t fight as he lifted her up, nor did she say a word as he carried her to the bathroom and sat her down on the toilet. Kneeling in front of her, Elliot brushed her hair back from her face and lifted her chin with his index finger.

“I know you’re angry with me and I swear Liv we can hash it out later just like we used to. But please. For the next hour or two or however long you will let me…can I take care of you?”

He watched as tears began to fill her lower lash line, her eyes drooping. She was so tired. Olivia forced herself to nod in acknowledgement, not wanting to leave his generous offer hanging in the air. Truth be told as irritated as she was, and make no mistake she was ready to kill him for fucking things up for her even more, she craved what only Elliot could provide. Security. Comfort.

A safe place to rest her head.

She was brought back out of her thoughts by the sound of a zipper and looked down to see him cradling her ankle and taking off one of her boots. For a moment, she felt a pang of guilt as she thought back to Brian who had been patiently waiting for her to finish this assignment. It’s not that she didn’t love Brian, at least on some level. He just never made her feel completely at ease. She was well aware that he was far more in love with her than she was with him and if she was being honest with herself, it was kind of why she kept him around. It felt good to be so wanted and yet…he wasn’t Elliot. Just Elliot’s touch had the insane power of both relaxing her and exciting her all at the same time. Over the years, in their partnership, there had been rare moments where she allowed herself to relish in their small touches. She had felt guilty then too of course, allowing herself to enjoy little intimate moments with someone else’s husband.

Suddenly it hit her. Kathy. Was she here? Olivia was so infuriated she didn’t really think anything of Elliot’s recent move to Long Island City or his marriage. She was brought back to the present when he cleared his throat and found that she was now barefoot with Elliot hesitantly reaching for the waistband of her jeans.

“Umm, I can…do you need me to…” He stammered.

“No, I…I got it, El.” She whispered as her hands closed over his on her lap.

“Ok. Ok…I’m going to step out for a minute. Shout if you need my help or anything. I’ll be right back.”

Elliot gave her thigh a squeeze and stepped outside the bathroom. He did a quick jog to the kitchen to retrieve Bernie’s almost forgotten tea and hurried down the hall. Even though the guest bedroom door was slightly ajar, he knocked and peeked through the crack to determine if his mother was still awake.

“Oh! Finally. Thought I was going to have to send out a goddamn St. Bernard.” She quipped as she snapped her book shut and placed it gently on the nightstand.

“Sorry Mama, there was someone at the door and I got caught up.”

“I thought I heard some commotion. Everything ok?”

“Yeah, no worries. I’m gonna shower and head to bed myself. Goodnight.”

In the bathroom Olivia had started up the shower, turning the knob until steam filled the air and the water scalding just as she liked it. As soon as Elliot left she shimmied out of her jeans but was evidently having trouble with the zipper on her bodysuit. Hearing a faint knock, she turned back towards the door.

“Liv everything good in there?”

Sighing, she dropped her head back.

“No actually…can you come in here for a sec?”

Elliot opened the door and stopped dead in his tracks. He had caught glimpses of Olivia half-dressed before whether it be him accidentally walking in on her in the locker room or an undercover stint but this…her standing there in that curve-hugging black lace lingerie bodice…it was indescribable.

“Uh…El?”

Shaking it off, he moved towards her feeling slightly creepy and ashamed of himself.

Come on, man. She’s been through hell and back and is actively bleeding. Keep your penis to yourself.

“The zipper is stuck, I can’t get it off.”

Nodding dumbly, he reached out and tried to assist. Looking closely, he could see part of the lace was caught in the mechanism and he too was having trouble trying to get it free.

“How attached are you to this thing?” He grumbled.

He could hear Olivia chuckle darkly.

“Not at all. Once I’m home for good I’m burning all of Irina’s clothes.”

“Good. Lemme just-”

Taking out his switchblade from his pocket he expertly flipped it open and sliced along the zipper, mindful of Olivia’s skin. After he cut down to her waist, he nudged her, letting her know that she was all set.

She turned around, her hands clutching the rest of her bodysuit to her chest.

“Thanks.”

Elliot nodded and headed back for the door, pausing with his hand over the knob.

“Towels are in the cabinet to the right and uhh…I’d be careful not to use too much soap on those scrapes. I have a first aid kit, when you’re done my bedroom is out this door and to the left, you can’t miss the double doors. I’ll grab some sweats for you.”

He watched Olivia’s head bob as she turned around and, for the first time, noticed some horrific scarring around her left wing. Stunned into silence, he backed out of the bathroom and closed the door.

Jesus. Definitely need to ask about that later.

Chapter Text

Wrapped in a rather short gray towel, Olivia padded quietly through the hall and into Elliot’s room. His back was to her as he rifled through something on the bed; she saw a navy-blue NYPD shirt and gray boxer shorts on a nearby chair and gently cleared her throat as to not startle him.

“These for me?”

Elliot whirled around but promptly turned back to the bed as he noticed her in nothing but cloth.

“Yeah. I’ll keep myself uh…facing this way, feel free to get dressed. I’m trying to find the peroxide. I know I have some in this kit.”

“It’s ok, really. I don’t need-”

“Liv, humor me will ya?”

Conceding with a sigh, Olivia put on the gray boxer shorts but kept her towel wrapped around her chest so he could have access to her fresh wounds. Fisting the NYPD shirt in her hands, she resisted the urge to bring it to her nose. She wondered if it smelled similar to the shirt from his locker that she had kept when she cleaned it out.

Get it together, Liv. There’s about a thousand and one things to take care of right now, none of them involving your old partner’s wardrobe.

She made her way over to the bed, sitting at the foot of it as Elliot continued to empty out a medium sized red cross bag.

“Ahh, here it is.” He said triumphantly.

She watched as he grabbed a washcloth off his nightstand and poured some of the peroxide on it. Already grimacing at the thought of the sting, she offered up her arm to Elliot’s waiting hand. Kneeling in front of her, he took a hold of her wrist. He did his best to be as gentle as possible as he worked his way up her arm, using her expressions of discomfort as his cue of when to stop and continue.

“Part of me doesn’t even want to ask but…how did this even happen?”

Feeling a knot form in her throat, Olivia spoke lowly to keep her voice from wavering.

“Mikhail clobbered me as soon as you left. He gathered that we somehow knew each other and accused me of fucking you. I told him he was crazy and high and…” She swallowed thickly as recent memories flowed forth, her nerves shot.

Elliot watched her carefully, his jaw clenching as he resisted the urge to go find Mikhail and end things himself.

“I…I fought him off for a moment but got the jump on me from behind and he knocked me to the floor. He dragged me out of the club by my hair…and the pavement in the parking lot did a little more exfoliating than my skin is used to.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Joke to deflect the seriousness of all this. Everything’s gone to hell, Liv and we need to talk about it.”

Furrowing her brow, Olivia looked up at Elliot seemingly confused.

“It’s the nature of undercover work Elliot, I’m not quite sure what else there is to talk about.”

“How about what Mikhail did to you to leave those scars all over your back?”

He watched as Olivia froze, her mouth opening of its own volition and then promptly closing itself.

“That wasn’t him.”

“Then who-”

“We’re not talking about it.”

“Liv, I have a right-”

“You don’t have a right to shit. You left remember? You left me. And with that you abandoned any so-called right to know anything about my life and what happened while you weren’t in it.”

Her words burned as he swallowed them, but it’s not like he could fault her. She was right. He was not owed a single explanation. Not to her scars, her past, her present. None of it. He, however, owed her everything.

“Where’s Kathy?”

The question took him by surprise and Olivia watched as Elliot’s face contorted, seemingly in anger.

“Gone. She left me a couple of months ago when I took the job at Organized Crime.”

“Left…” Olivia trailed off as she noticed his bare ring finger for the first time. “You’re divorced?”

“Divorcing…but yeah,” Elliot sighed as he finished up patting at her shoulder wound and packing up the peroxide. “She didn’t want to leave Italy and I couldn’t stay another minute.”

“Italy. Right.” She noted, watching him as he rummaged through the first aid kit once again, this time looking for an icepack for her face. “You mentioned that earlier. Why were you in Italy to begin with?”

“I began working in the private sector after…after Jenna. I just couldn’t come back to SVU and walk into that squad room without seeing her blood on my hands. It took long enough to get it out of my nightmares.”

“You could’ve told me.”

“No, Liv I couldn’t have. Leaving the job was one thing, but leaving you? God, that nearly killed me. I know I was a fucking coward about it and I’m sorry. I also know there are not enough apologies in the world to repair what I damaged. I never meant to…I just didn’t know how-”

“Yeah, I got it.” Olivia interrupted, deciding to put him out of his misery. Pressing her fingers to her temple, she began to rub in small clockwise movements as a headache approached.

“Hey, you okay?” Elliot asked, concerned.

Ok? No, she wasn’t ok. She was in the early stages of withdrawal. If she didn’t indulge soon, her symptoms would get worse and she’d be even more of a mess. She felt herself start to panic slightly as the anxiety began to set in. She needed to use. But she was with Elliot. But she needed to use.

Her mind continued to go in circles, just like her fingertips, and she forced herself to stay in the moment and focus on literally anything other than the aches and pains coming in and settling in her bones.

“I’ll be fine. It’s just been a long injurious day.”

“Maybe we should get you to the hospital, Liv.”

“No!” She barked. “No hospitals. They’ll be able to find me there.”

“They can find you anywhere, they’re tracking you like a dog. Again, please tell me why you won’t tell the feds to take you out of this.”

“I took care of the tracker already. Tasers work wonders for frying electronic devices. And staying in with the Russians was my choice, I just…” She paused as a shiver ran down her spine. “I didn’t want to give up when I was so close to bringing down their operation.”

“Give up? Do you hear yourself?” Elliot asked, his voice getting increasingly louder as his agitation grew. “You had to taser yourself so they can’t monitor your movements, this has gone beyond a normal fucking undercover operation.”

“If I had walked away from this job your son would’ve been killed. So maybe instead of trying to tell me what to do you should be fucking grateful.” She bit back.

“I am absolutely grateful for you saving my son, but there’s nothing for me to be thankful for if you’re dead, Olivia. Please.” He said delicately as he brushed her wet waves away from her shoulder.

Huffing, she bit at her lip. Her ire started to grow as much as her craving for the opiates she left in his bathroom. She needed to go back and retrieve her jeans before she blew her top. As minutes passed, the aches and pains became more intense, the shivers were lying in wait near her spine, and her temperament…her temperament would soon be completely unpredictable.

“Maybe…maybe this was a bad idea. I think I should go.” She announced as she pushed him aside and stood up. Keeping her back to him, she removed the towel and quickly put on his t-shirt before opening the bedroom door. She could hear him follow her as she rounded the corner and went into his bathroom. She collected her jeans and now useless bodysuit in her arms, only to have Elliot take them from her.

“Liv, face it. You have nowhere to go anymore; you know it and I know it.”

“Wow, El. Thanks for reminding me that I’m fucking homeless and out of options. Feels great on top of everything else tonight. Kind of like a warm hug.” She said snidely as she reached for her clothes.

“Ok, all right, we can stop talking about this for now just please stay. Get some rest, my bed is all yours.” Elliot conceded, as he returned her belongings and gestured for her to return to his room.

She nodded, shivering slightly as her symptoms started to become more pronounced.

“Goodnight, El.” She muttered as she traipsed quickly past him.

As soon as she entered his room, she crossed over to the bed and sat, tucking one leg under her. She fumbled around the back pocket of her jeans, searching for her little baggie of goods but came up empty. Puzzled, she checked her front pockets as well. Fuck. Did it fall out in the scuffle? Maybe she had it in her bra instead? No, she would’ve noticed that when she took off her bodysuit.

“Looking for this?”

Olivia’s head snapped up to see Elliot standing in the doorway, her drug paraphernalia in his hand.

Motherfu-.

“Yeah,” She sighed. “Actually, I was.”

She watched as he looked down and swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

“You’re not doing this shit in my house, Liv.” He said sternly as he brought his gaze back to hers.

“Well then, I guess we’ve reached an impasse. I’m not getting any rest tonight if I’m going through withdrawal.”

She observed his demeanor, watching as he contemplated his next move. Logically, she knew there was very little chance of him giving in, but the cocky part of her thought she’d be able to get by. Well, Irina thought she could get by.

“El…” She appealed as she got up the bed and stood in front of him. “Please. I can’t…I can’t go through this right now. Don’t make me.”

He remained unmoving, his blue eyes simply fixated on her brown. She reached for the drugs in his hand, and in that moment he came back to life, swiftly grabbing her wrist and steering her away.

“I’m sorry…but I’m not letting you do this to yourself. You’re a fucking addict, Olivia and you need help whether you want it or not.”

Chapter Text

Denying her from using sounded like the noble thing to do at the time but now, as he sat on the cold tile of his bathroom floor with Olivia’s limp body in his arms, her shivering and convulsing every few moments, he wasn’t so sure. It had started with a headache, which seemed innocent enough, until the aching soon radiated to every part of her body.

“Elliot.” She whimpered. “I need to-”

He swiftly lifted her upper torso and pushed her head over the toilet for her just in time. Grimacing, he held her hair back as she violently heaved into it. Her stomach has been long since empty and yet her body was still forcing her to expel everything, which at this point was a mix of bile and blood as her esophagus was simply too raw to keep doing this.

Groaning, Olivia raised her arms to hug the white porcelain bowl, granting Elliot some relief from having to hold her up.

“Talk to me.” She pleaded, groggily. “Distract me. Please.”

Elliot leaned back against the vanity, sighing, wracking his brain for something lighthearted. Nothing in particular came to mind as his life too was far from being perfect at the moment, but surely he could manage something.

“Eli misses you.” He was able to land on. “He kept asking about you while we were in Italy. Almost as much as he asked about his siblings.”

She smiled at the mention of the youngest Stabler, quickly taking a trip down memory lane. The last time she saw him was at his fourth birthday party. An excitable little boy with blonde curls and bright blue eyes like his father. He had repeatedly asked Olivia to play airplane as she was the best at making propeller sounds and turning him upside down. God, she loved that kid.

“How big is he now?”

“It’s been a minute since I’ve seen him but he’s a tall kid. Seven years old and nearly up to my chest. Loves playing soccer and he’s definitely cut out for it with those long legs of his.” Elliot beamed, as he tended to do when talking about his children.

“Mmm…ahhh” Olivia groaned as a stomach cramp rolled through her. “He sounds perfect, El. I wish I could see him.”

“Soon. He’ll be coming to New York in another month or so for the holidays, he’d be thrilled to pay you a visit.”

She tried to bite her tongue, but couldn’t help herself.

“Will Kathy be ok with that?”

At the mention of his soon-to-be ex-wife’s name, his jaw clenched.

“I don’t really care, Liv. It’s not up to her, he’s my son too.”

Olivia halted for a moment, studying his appearance. His brow was furrowed and his face was pulled into a scowl. His neck muscles strained as he cracked his neck and played with his bare ring finger.

“I can see this is a sore subject, but I think it’s only fair that I’m not the only uncomfortable one here.” She quipped, as she adjusted herself on the hard tile. Her wise crack earned a faint grin from the man across from her.

“What happened, Elliot? Why are you guys separating?”

“Divorcing.” He corrected. “And it’s…long and complicated.”

“I’ll take a condensed version.”

“Ok. Condensed version is that she accused me of cheating on her…which led to her giving me an ultimatum of either retiring from NYPD and taking the private sector job or getting a divorce. I chose Italy. We were somewhat happy for about a year and then I began checking out of our marriage. I was…heavily depressed, missing our other kids, missing New York…when Organized Crime offered me a position I took it, and she took the opportunity to leave me. That’s about it.”

“Wait a- wait, wait a minute,” Olivia slurred as her brain fogged up a bit. “She thought you cheated? With who?”

“You.” He responded, plainly.

“Me? How…why did she think that?”

“Why wouldn’t she? After Jenna, I struggled. Desperately wanting to call you, but knowing that if I heard your voice I’d come running back to that precinct where I just couldn’t…I couldn’t be there. She must’ve saw me hover over your name on my phone a thousand times. Rereading old messages, listening to your old voicemails. I missed you, Liv. It was obvious.”

“Not to me. You never returned any of my calls, Elliot. You’re…you were my partner. My best fucking friend for over a decade, I…I missed you.” She confessed, feeling very much vulnerable. “I needed you.”

“Olivia, I just thought…I was tired of fucking up your career. Every time I flew off the handle or mismanaged a situation you paid the price. You did so well without me. I mean look at you, you’re a Lieutenant. You’re in charge of the 16^th precinct. I know your current situation is not ideal but we’ll get you back to being badass Benson in no time.”

“I’m not…” She paused, a shiver coursing through her. “I’m not who I used to be.”

“I know, but that’s just for now.”

“No, Elliot. Not just for now. I’ve changed because…circumstances out of my control.” She struggled to get out through the fog. “I will never, ever be the woman you knew.”

“Liv, come on. We’ll get you into rehab-”

“I was assaulted, Elliot.”

His mouth snapped shut, his eyes searching hers for some sort of sign that this was a “gotcha” moment. His heart nearly stopping when he realized that moment wasn’t coming.

“What…Olivia…what are you-“

“It was a little over a year ago.” She started, resting her head on her forearm, keeping herself propped up on the toilet. “Probably one of the worst cases we’ve ever gotten. Serial rapist. Sadist. Loved to spend time with his victims before he…anyway, we thought we had him. But this guy, he was just so…slippery. Somehow managed to avoid being convicted every time.”

Olivia kept her eyes trained on his watching as curiosity, fear, and concern flashed across his baby blue irises. This was not how she expected to tell him; coming down off of opiates, beaten to a bloody pulp and having been recently fucked by a member of the Russian mob. Hell, she didn’t even know if she would see him again. But now here he was…and she’s realizing that she has been holding onto this pain solo for too goddamn long.

“He took a fascination to me once we started our case. I was hell bent on nailing his ass to the wall and he was up for the challenge. Yet once again he fell through the cracks.”

“Who the fuck was your ADA?” Elliot inquired irritably.

“Rafa-Rafael Barba.” She corrected herself. “But that’s neither here nor there. This guy was not only Teflon but he was fucking his defense attorney.”

“He was released?”

“Yeah. On bail.” She clarified, tonguing her lip ring. “That’s how he got to me.”

“Liv…”

“Cragen ordered me to take a few days off, no exceptions. I went home and there he was, waiting for me in my apartment. He had a gun pointed at my head and I just…I froze. Didn’t react, didn’t attempt to grab my weapon…I don’t know what came over me.”

“Fear. You were scared, that’s natura-”

“Don’t, Elliot. Don’t. I froze and I paid the price for it. He tied me up. He gagged me. He burned me. He forced pills and vodka down my throat.” She forced out, tears lining her lower lash line.

She gazed over at a now blurry Elliot who let out an inhuman groan as he rammed his elbow into the wooden vanity behind him in grief. This is why. This is why she needed to tell him. If there was anyone who would feel this as deeply as she did, anyone who would understand the amount of pain, anyone who would understand the absolute rage that took over her, it’s Elliot.

Fuck.

No one told her that catharsis would hurt this much.

“There’s more.” She whispered. “After two days, he felt that it would be best to keep moving. He slung me over his shoulder, brought me down the fire escape and threw me into the trunk of a car. I don’t remember much other than the house. The house it was…it was the parents’ of the defense attorney he was fucking. He killed her father and made me watch while he…while he raped her mother.” She grit out with a sob. “I couldn’t stop him, El. He had me tied up and this poor woman, she-”

“Olivia that was not your fault, don’t you dare. Don’t go there.” He said with so much conviction she almost believed him.

Almost.

“When he was done,” She continued. “…he took me to this beach house, abandoned for the season. He threw me to bed and cuffed me to the…to the headboard rails. They were iron, it took me forever to try and get free. I had to…had to sweet talk him. Pretend. Pretend that I wanted it.” She choked out, gagging, a result of both her withdrawal and this unwanted trip down memory lane.

“A woman and her daughter came by, she was the housekeeper. While he was distracted at the door I managed to yank one of the bedrails free. He came back into the room and I knocked him out. I ushered the woman and her daughter out the door. I…God, I fucking threatened them with deportation to get them to leave.”

“You were saving her.”

“I was saving myself. I didn’t want her to call the cops and tell them where I was yet, I wanted…I wanted to kill him, Elliot. For everything he did to me, I wanted him dead and you…fuck. It was like you took over me. I knew what you would do to him if you were there. I knew you wouldn’t even hesitate to kill him after what he did to me.”

“No, I fucking wouldn’t.” Elliot responded, coldly. His eyes now brimming with his own tears of anguish.

“I handcuffed him to the bed and I beat him. Over and over and over until I swore he was dead. But the fucking bastard wasn’t.” She chuckled bitterly. “He’s alive. Alive and in prison.”

“Liv-”

“Despite all of that, you know what the worst part was?” She asked as she steadied herself, finally ready to admit something that she had long since pushed from her mind. “That I…most of the time I was so drunk and high, I didn’t…I don’t know if he raped me. I was afraid he did, afraid I’d remember something I didn’t want to so…so I stayed drunk and high.”

At that last confession, she broke. Her body wracking with the force of her sobs, Elliot immediately crawling over to her and gathering her is his arms.

“I’ll kill him, Liv. I’ll fucking kill him. I’ve got a lot of connections; I can organize a hit in prison just say the word.”

“No…no. Just hold me, please. I spent so much time being mad at you for not being there. I hate that I needed you…but I did.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I should’ve answered your calls, I should’ve been there for you, I should’ve just fucking stayed. God, I wish I had fucking stayed.” He choked out.

His strong arms held her tightly against him, listening and waiting as her sobs started to subside. Once she had calmed down, she rested her head in the crook of his neck and tucked her legs up in his lap.

“I’m so…I’m so tired, Elliot.”

“I know, baby.” He let slip as he kissed the top of her head. “Come on, I think the worst of this is over. Let’s get you into bed.”

She silently acquiesced as she slid her arms up his torso and around his neck. Gently, Elliot lifted her up and carried her to the bedroom. As they walked he couldn’t help but think about all of the ways he had failed her in such a short amount of time. He was determined to do better, determined to do right by her.

Tonight, they would sleep but in the morning…in the morning they had some things to figure out.

Chapter Text

Elliot lay wide-awake, his eyes roaming over each and every tiny crack in his ceiling for the millionth time. He had started out on the couch but soon relocated to the bedroom and settled down next to Olivia. She had startled him awake some time ago, screaming in her sleep. He had rushed in to simultaneously make sure she was ok and silence her before she scared his mother half to death. She had shot up the moment his hands touched her shoulders, awaking into a defensive stance and shoving him backwards. Upon realizing it was him she quickly sputtered out an apology, explaining that whenever she spoke about…him…that she would have nightmares afterwards. PTSD, she had muttered, as she avoided his gaze.

That’s how they ended up here; Olivia snoring lightly next to him as his presence was luckily enough to keep her nerves steady. Elliot ready to lose his cool at both the prick currently sitting in a jail cell and himself. He didn’t quite know which one he wanted to start with. Although laying here, torturing himself with the images of what happened to her seemed to be a fitting enough punishment for now.

He failed her. He fucking failed her.

During her reminiscence, he tried so hard to not make it about himself but he couldn’t help it, at least not internally. He was so goddamn disgusted with himself that he too started ruminating, thinking back to the day when he was introduced to her. A rookie detective standing in front of him with nothing but a nasty attitude for her older egotistical male counterparts and compassion for the victims. He loved her instantly.

After learning about her background, he couldn’t help but feel protective. He felt that he shared a kinship with her, as each of them grew up having an abusive, neglectful, drunken asshole parent. The lasting effects of which can only be understood by those who went through it; one of the many reasons he and Kathy never made the distance no matter how hard they tried. His anger issues, his dedication to his work, the victims, specifically the children…she never got it.

But Olivia. Olivia understood him to an almost terrifying degree. Knowing when he needed space, when he needed her silence, when he needed her pseudo-therapist soothing chats. Knowing when he needed the fights, the calling him out on his bullshit, the numerous infamous screaming matches they would have atop the 16^th precinct. They were divinely linked; it was as simple as that.

Out in the field, she was his number one priority and he was hers. She made sure he always made it home safely for his wife and kids and he made sure she made it home safely, selfishly, for himself. He never told her that, that he needed her to be ok for him to be ok. Occasionally he would joke about not wanting to break in a new partner, but he figured that at some point she saw right through that. They had way too many close calls for her not to know, not to understand just how much she meant to him. White, Gitano, Rojas, Harrison…she had to know.

Sighing, he turned his head to the side and studied a sleeping Olivia’s form. She was on her stomach, one arm tucked under the pillow, the other reaching towards him and lying limply on the mattress, her fingertips barely brushing against his bicep. His cream-colored cotton sheets hung low around her waist and he couldn’t help himself as his eyes wandered over the expanse of uncovered olive skin between her raised t-shirt and her hips. He tried his best to ignore the scarring, but when he couldn’t he brought his eyes back up to her face. Her lips were slightly parted, her bruised eye fluttering softly, her dark brown tresses lay haphazardly around her face and pillow and…fuck. Even swollen and nearly disfigured she was fucking gorgeous.

“You know, watching women sleep is creepy and borderline stalker behavior.” Olivia mumbled as she cracked open her uninjured eye.

Elliot let out a soft chuckle, as he brought a hand up to rub at his face.

“Sorry. I was lost in thought. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s fine. Wanna talk about it?”

“Talk? More talking? Benson and Stabler don’t talk this much.” He teased.

“Mmm, you’re right.” She acquiesced as she turned onto her side and stretched. “We wait until everything comes to a head and then one of us runs away. Works wonders.”

“Absolutely. Speaking of which, I’m going to run to the kitchen and make us some coffee. Be right back.”

“No wait!” She called out, tossing the covers off her lower body and rising from the bed. “Let me do that. It’s the least I can do after last night.” She continued as she walked over to his arm chair to grab her jeans. As she passed the standing mirror, she caught a glimpse of her face and flinched.

“No really Liv, I got it.”

Noting his off tone, she tore her head away from her reflection and cocked her head to the side as she tucked some loose strands of hair behind her ear.

“Are the kids here or something? You’re acting strange even for you.”

“No just…uh…my mom. She lives with me.” He admitted as he scratched the back of his neck.

“Wow.” She responded simply. “Divorcing and living with mom. Must be a real hit with the ladies.”

“Hey, hey this is my place, ok? She lives with me so I can keep an eye on her. She’s not doing too well…you know…mentally.”

“Oh…I’m sorry, Elliot. I wasn’t trying to be-”

“Stop. Don’t even worry about it. In fact, you’re right. Let me tell her you’re here.”

Exiting the bedroom, he could see his mother already sitting at the kitchen counter a fresh cup of tea in her hands.

“Morning, mama. Sleep ok?” He queried as he lightly kissed her temple on his way to the coffee machine.

“I was until I heard some strange screeching going on. I’m not here to halt your sex life, Elliot but you could’ve at least warned me.”

Nearly choking on his own saliva, he spun around to see an amused grin on her face.

“I don’t have a girl…that’s not…” He stumbled awkwardly, suddenly feeling like a sixteen-year-old boy. “It’s Olivia Benson, my old partner. She spent the night, but not because we…she’s undercover on a case and she was injured. She came to me for help. The noise you heard was her having some nightmares, I’m so sorry we woke you.”

“Oh dear.” Bernie breathed out as her face fell. “Is she still here? Is she ok?”

“Yeah, Mama she’s here. That’s actually why I came out looking for you. I wanted to let you know.”

“No problem, I’m gonna make some breakfast. You go get your partner.” Bernie announced, practically hopping down off the stool.

“Mama you don’t have-”

“I absolutely do. I’m sure she hasn’t had any home-cooked meals in a long time. Tell her it’s safe to come out.”

Nodding, Elliot walked back over to the bedroom before pausing and turning on his heel.

“By the way, her injuries are…noticeable to say the least. Try not to stare, she’s already upset.”

Bernie waved him off as she removed the eggs, milk, and butter from the fridge already focused on the task at hand.

A few moments later, Olivia emerged from the room dressed in her skinny jeans and Elliot’s NYPD shirt as her lace bodice was completely unsalvageable. She crossed her arms over her chest, hoping Bernie wouldn’t notice or, god forbid, comment on her lack of undergarments. The smell of vanilla pancakes, fried eggs, and coffee helped settled the uneasiness she was feeling and she made her way into the kitchen where Elliot and Bernie stood cooking.

“Everything smells delicious.” She commented, in a way announcing her arrival.

Bernie spun around first, a warm smile on her face.

“Olivia dear, it’s been a minute. It’s so nice to see you again!”

At the word ‘again’, Elliot’s head turned slightly. He had a feeling Olivia was way more involved in Kathleen’s case a couple of years ago than she let on, but he didn’t know that his partner had already formally met his mother.

“You too, Bernie. I’m sorry about…umm…” She stuttered as she motioned towards her face.

Bernie waved a hand in dismissal. “Nonsense. You should’ve seen how Joe would arrive home sometimes. Not even work related just drunken bar scuffles. I’m quite used to it. Are you all right?”

“Uhh yeah. Well…I will be. Thanks.”

Smiling, Bernie patted Olivia’s hand from across the counter before passing her a plate full of food. Before she could even reach for the fork, Elliot was already handing it to her along with a mug full of coffee.

“Splash of creamer, one Sweet and Low, just how you like it.”

“Thanks, El.”

Bernie watched the two of them for a moment as they ate in comfortable silence. Olivia picking an extra piece of bacon off Elliot’s plate, he in turn stealing a sip of her coffee instead of pouring himself a fresh cup. It was strangely intimate the way they interacted. She cleared her throat as she grabbed her cup and saucer off the quartz counter.

“It’s a nice morning, so I’m going to finish my tea out on the patio. I’m sure you both have some private work things to discuss and I don’t want to get in the way. Call for me if you need anything.”

Elliot nodded his head towards his mother in thanks as Olivia offered a soft smile, their mouths both full of pancakes.

“So…” Olivia started as she swallowed. “I’ll be honest, I don’t even know where to start with everything. I should probably call my handler.”

“Don’t.” Elliot cautioned. “Your cover may or may not be blown, we don’t even know. The feds are just going to throw you in witness protection at this point and get to you when they get to you. You’ll be stuck in hiding.”

Away from me. He left unfinished.

“Yeah…” She considered, running her tongue along her lower lip.

“You keep doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Playing with your lip ring.” Elliot noted. “It’s…cute.” He settled on.

His eyes, however, said something else entirely. Olivia knew enough about his lingering stares that she could see he not only thought it was ‘cute’, but it was apparently a turn on. Elliot liked piercings? Who knew.

“I think we’re getting off topic here. All right. If I don’t call my handler, my options are chancing a conversation with Mikhail to see where we’re at…or asking your bureau to help me finish these guys. Neither option sounds very appealing, I must admit.”

“I vote for the latter.” Elliot offered.

“Of course you do.” She huffed. “Look, El. It’s not that I don’t appreciate your back-up but are we really going to create some sort of undercover operation within an undercover operation? Irina Novikova and Eddie Ashes? This is too much.”

“Maybe…but I have an idea.”

She watched as his lips turned up in a small smirk, his blue eyes bright with excitement.

“Oh jesus, I don’t like that look on your face. What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking…about how impressed Albi, and in turn Kosta, were with you after our deal.”

“No, Elliot. Absolutely not.” She asserted, throwing her fork down onto the plate.

“You don’t know what I’m about to say.”

“Yes the fuck I do and I am not switching allegiances from the Russians to the Albanians, you’re out of your fucking mind. I’m trading one group of disgusting abusive men for another? What do you think they’re going to do to me to make me prove my loyalty to them, huh? Do you think I can just walk away from Mikhail and Volkov and…I’m not doing this again, I…I can’t.”

“Liv, look at me. I would never, not for one second, propose this if I thought that I couldn’t protect you. I hold weight with the Albanians. I can argue that I be the person you supposedly prove your loyalty to, if need be, and then you’d be home free. The Albanians will protect you once your theirs, you will be untouchable. You trusted me for twelve years. Please. Try to trust me on this.”

“Thirteen.” She corrected. “I think you’re blocking out 1998.”

She heard him chuckle softly as she continued to focus on picking at the black nail polish on her nails, weighing her options.

“All right…fuck I’m going to regret this but…get me in with the Albanians.”

Chapter Text

Taking a deep shuddering breath, Olivia rubbed her clammy palms on the thighs of her black distressed jeans. Despite being dressed in light grey ribbed tank, she was sweating profusely, and reached forward to turn the AC on full blast. She could see Elliot side-eying her and closed her eyes to focus on drowning out her anxiety. After their morning conversation they had swung by her loft and picked up her things, the entirety of her life now sitting in his trunk. For the first time in what seemed like forever, she didn’t have a plan. Instead, she had to rely on Elliot, someone who broke her trust almost three years ago when he walked out of her life.

Shit, why is this so nerve wracking?

Her left leg bounced up and down of its own accord as she sat passenger, Elliot in full Eddie Wagner persona as he drove them to the boxing gym; the Albanians home base. A sudden large, warm hand on her upper thigh caused her to jolt, her eyes opening.

“Liv, we don’t have to do this. I’ll take you home-”

“Home?” She chuckled bitterly. “Where the fuck would that be, Elliot?”

“With me.” He replied simply. “You’re staying with me.”

She looked over at him, her eyebrows raised in disbelief at his bold assumption that she would agree to that without argument.

“Or…” He started, noting her facial expressions. “We can er...ahem, we can talk ‘bout it later.”

Turning back to look out the window, she saw Reggie enter the gym and felt her anxiety sky rocket. She can’t do this. Not in this state. She’s fresh off opiates; the craving is so fucking intense. Her head is not where it needs to be.

“El. If I go in there…I need to know you have my back. I’m too messed up to get through this without help.”

“I’ve got you.”

Nodding, Olivia dried her hands one more time on jeans, brushing Elliot’s hand to the side. Reaching behind her, she grabbed her leather jacket from the backseat and fished the deep plum lipstick of her pocket. Flipping down the visor, she quickly applied the dark rouge, giving a quick swipe to the clean her lip ring. She ran her fingers through her hair, tousling her waves and earning a small grin from the man beside her.

“There she is.” He teased as he leaned over her and reached for her door handle.

She held her breath as his lips came inches from her face, their noses barely touching.

“I’m here for you and I’m not letting you down this time. Let’s go.”

As they entered the gym together, they of course garnered the attention of everyone in the room. While the men looked surprised to say the least, they at least were eyeing her appreciatively instead of whipping out their guns and shooting her on the spot.

“Irina! What brings you here?” Reggie announced loudly as he approached.

Before she could answer, a short redhead in a brightly colored spandex dress crossed their path, scowling at the brunette bombshell in front her.

“Eddie, what do you think you’re doing? Bringing this little…zuskë into our home?”

“Slut? Oh sweetheart, don’t get me started.” Olivia replied dismissively as she made a show of looking the elder redhead up and down.

Well, that did it. Irina has now entered the chat.  

“Everyone. Office. Now.”

The four of them looked up to see Albi Briscu standing at the office door and one by one they followed, Olivia sandwiched between Reggie in front of her and Elliot behind her. After they all filed in, they each took their respective places: Elliot by the door, Reggie in a chair off to the side, and Albi and the redhead standing next to who could only be John Kosta. Olivia stood in the center of the room somewhat awkwardly, doing her best to look like she was a badass Russian dealer and not some broken woman going through withdrawal.

“I don’t believe we’ve met…but I’ve heard some nice things about you, Irina.”

She gave a quick almost imperceptible nod of her head as she locked eyes with Kosta.

“What I have not heard…is what the fuck you’re doing here.”

“Eddie…” She paused to clear her throat. “…saw I was in a bad situation and thought we could make another deal. A personal one.”

She watched as John Kosta pursed his lips and brought his hands together.

“I’m listening.”

“My partner Mikhail…he beats me, takes advantage of me…I’m sick of it and I want out.”

“But there’s no way outta the mob other than death, of course.” Kosta finished for her.

“She knows a lot about their inner workings,” Elliot piped up from the back. “She was hoping we could offer protection in exchange for free reign of information. Everything she knows, no secrets, nothin’ held back.”

“She does know a lot, she carried the whole deal…and that partner of hers was the one who got into with Eddie. He’s a lil fuckin twit.” Reggie added.

To further her agenda, Olivia removed her jacket and slowly lifted up her shirt. She had covered her black eye with a decent amount of make-up but the bruises to her torso, the large scrape across her arm were fairly fresh. She watched Kosta’s face as his eyes drifted over her body before looking over at Albi. Surprisingly, Albi’s face turned dark, his eyes showing nothing but sympathy for the woman in front of him.

“Please. I’m dead if I go back.”

At that, Albi bent down to whisper in Kosta’s ear the two of them murmuring to each other in private discussion. As she lowered her shirt, she chanced a look back at Elliot. He held her gaze for a moment, his expression almost as pained as Albi’s at the damage inflicted.

“All right. Everyone clear out. Except you two.” Kosta declared, pointing at Elliot and Olivia.

There was an awkward silence as feet shuffled about, the feisty redhead giving Olivia one more glare as she walked past. Once the door shut behind the three Albanians, Kosta stood from his seat behind his desk and sauntered over to Olivia.

“My man Albi here has a weakness for battered women…so I guess you’re in luck. However, let me make one thing clear…”

She yelped as Kosta gripped her by her injured arm and pulled her into him, lowering his voice.

“If any of your information is faulty or if you use any of my product…” He emphasized, looking down at the track marks on her arm. “…you’re outta here. In a body bag. Do I make myself clear?”

“Extremely.” She answered through gritted teeth.

“And you,” Kosta started, looking over at Elliot. “Don’t bring home anymore strays or you’ll join her in that body bag.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, now get the fuck out of my office.”

“Eddie, I need to speak with you.”

“Flutura…not now.” Elliot growled as he joined Olivia’s side and pushed her towards the exit.

“Yes, now.”

Sighing, he turned to the irate redhead, Olivia standing just a ways behind him.

“In private.” She snarled, walking away into the locker room.

“Wait for me by the car…please?” Elliot asked Olivia as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Uhh sure. Just don’t be too long with floozy over there.”

She heard him snicker as she exited the gym. Looking around, she made sure it was safe before walking over to the car and opening up the passenger side door, taking a seat. It was mere moments later that she saw Elliot exit, flushed, and adjusting his cutoff hoodie.

The fuck?

He wrenched opened the drivers side door, immediately jamming the key in the ignition.

“Something you need to share?”

“No,” He huffed. “Just Flutura’s daily attempt at seducing me.”

Olivia felt a strange sensation churning in her stomach at the idea of that flashy Albanian woman throwing herself on her partner.

“Daily? Huh.” She replied curtly.

As they came to a red light, Elliot looked over at her smirking.

“ ‘Livia Benson are you jealous?”

“What?” She answered with a shocked laugh. “Jealous? No, I am not jealous.”

“Holy shit, yes you are.”

“It’s a green light, dumbass.”

They drove along, a somewhat comfortable silence falling between them despite Elliot’s teasing. He took the long way back to his place in Long Island City, checking his mirrors for what must have been the hundredth time to ensure they were not followed. He popped the trunk before exiting the vehicle and walked to the rear to collect her things. Handing her one of her lighter bags, Elliot shouldered the two large duffels containing her wardrobe and ambled his way inside.

As he took her bags into his bedroom, Olivia shimmied out of her coat and made her way over to his bar cart, pouring herself a whiskey before flopping down on his leather sectional. He joined her a moment later, and sat down next to her, a water bottle in hand.

“We should probably be dialing back on that, too.” He pointed out.

She rolled her eyes as she took a large sip and rested the cool glass against her forehead.

“Do me a favor and let me keep one of my vices for now, all right?”

Holding his hands up in defeat, Elliot sunk back into the cushion and rested his head.

“So I guess I’m staying here.” She mused, her eyes closed.

“I mean…I think its best, given the circumstances.” He answered.

Olivia gulped down the rest of her whiskey before tossing her glass onto his coffee table. Tucking one leg under her, she turned herself to face him and rested her head against the back of his couch.

“Seriously though, what is going on with you and flute lady?”

“Flutura.” Elliot corrected, grinning. “And nothing, I swear. She’s not exactly my type, which she apparently takes as a challenge.”

“Hmmm, perhaps I should let her know to dye her hair blonde.”

“Ehh…I’m pretty partial to brunettes nowadays.”

Olivia rolled her eyes as his gaze met hers.

“Smooth Stabler. Are we going to talk about…whatever this is?”

“I don’t know, that depends how honest I can be without you running away.”

Scoffing, she rose from the couch and grabbed her glass, heading back to the bar cart.

“Me? Running? That’s rich coming from you.”

“Annnnd here we go. Why, Liv? Why do we always do this?”

“Do what?” She grumbled, turning around to face him.

“This! Argue! Fight, when what we really need to do is talk shit out, lay it all out on the table. I’m willing to try that for once, are you?”  

She watched carefully as Elliot’s chest heaved, his arms out to his sides, opening his stance. He actually wanted to talk. Elliot Stabler. Wanting to talk.

Well, fuck. This is new territory.

Chapter Text

“Elliot, I don’t even-where do we even start with this?”

She watched, still standing opposite him, as he cleared his throat and rubbed at the scruff on his cheek thinking of how to unpack sixteen years in one discussion. His mouth opened momentarily and then closed, him shaking his head as he stared into her eyes.

“That’s what I thought.” She responded, her throat tightening. “I’m going to go…rest or something.”

“I love you.” He blurted out before he could stop himself.

Whirling around, Olivia’s long dark hair whipped across her face, obscuring most of her shocked expression. He loves her. He loves her. Since when? In what way? For once the small voice in her head was silent, speechless. Many a man has said that they loved Olivia Benson. For her body. For her looks. For her passion. Not one of them loved all of that along with the darkness hidden underneath. Once that started to reveal itself, they ran. Who would want to love someone like her? A woman obsessed with the job, more dedicated to the victims than to her personal life, a victim herself?

Elliot does.  

Ah, seems like the voice has returned.

“What are you…no, Elliot. No, you don’t.” She finally choked out, denial overriding the glimmer of hope inside of her.

He took a step closer to her, looking more nervous than she’s ever seen him.

“Yeah, Liv. I do. And for god’s sake don’t ask me when it started or how, all I know is that one day I looked at you sitting across from me and I realized that you were it. And I hated it. I hated that I couldn’t act on it, that it seemed like the universe was playing some sick cosmic joke sending me you when I couldn’t have you; it fucking haunted me.”

Frozen to the spot, she had no choice but to listen to his monologue, her fingers tapping nervously against her thigh. She really wished she had poured that second whiskey.

“I didn’t…I didn’t know what to do, Olivia. I couldn’t tell you; I didn’t want to lose you as my partner, my friend, my confidant, just…everything that you are to me. But then it happened, the thing we swore we wouldn’t let happen again. I chose you over the job, Liv. I chose you. Killed Jenna right as she pointed that gun your way cause god-fucking-dammit if I lost you, I would’ve lost the most important part of me and I couldn’t let her do it. I was not prepared to watch you die; I never will be. I love you, Liv. I really and sincerely do.”

As she released a shaky, shuddering breath, she willed herself to move but her legs were numb. Of all the things she expected to come out of Elliot’s mouth, a declaration of his love was not one. Fortunately for her, Elliot could still read her like an open book no matter how hard she tried to keep herself shut, and made his way over to her. Before either one of them had the chance to think about it, Elliot wrapped an arm around her waist, his other hand brushing her hair out of her face and coming to rest at the back of her head, tangling itself in her messy waves.

“’Livia…can I kiss you?”

A choked sob escaped her throat but was swiftly silenced as Elliot’s lips descended upon hers, no longer waiting for permission. His kiss was soft, tender, urgent…everything she dreamt it would be. Coming back to reality, Olivia grabbed onto the back of his head and held him against her mouth, deepening the kiss as her tongue prodded his mouth open. When they met she felt Elliot sigh into her mouth, a sound of relief emitting from his throat as he realized she wasn’t pushing him away.

They continued for a moment, Olivia being the first to break their intimate embrace in order to take a much-needed breath. It quickly turned into a moan as Elliot’s lips moved to her neck and kissed their way down the column of her throat.

“Elliot…El…bedroom.” She managed to get out, her head still spinning.

Grabbing his hand at her waist, Olivia pulled him towards her desired destination but was met with resistance. She looked up at him, her eyebrow lifting in curiosity.

“Liv, I want to. God I fucking want to, but I also want to do this right. I want to take you out on a date. A real date, not us grabbing a goddamn hot dog between witness interviews and eating in the sedan.”

She laughed at the memory, one of many that she kept locked away in her mind that she cherished.

“I want to…I want to treat you like you deserve to be treated. Give you everything you want, everything you need, you know?”

“What I know…” She paused, pulling Elliot along as she walked backwards towards his bedroom. “…is that this is what I want. It’s what I’ve wanted for a very long time. Don’t make me wait any longer, El.”

It seemed that was all he needed to hear as he eagerly joined Olivia in the bedroom and grabbed her by her good arm, pulling her into him for another kiss. Their hands began to roam, Olivia’s finding their way under his cutoff hoodie, tracing his abdominal muscles as she moved it upwards, eventually ridding him of the offending garment.

Much better. She thought to herself as her eyes wandered over his god-like physique.

An arrogant smirk started to form on Elliot’s face but before she could say anything he lifted her up by her waist, her long legs instinctively coming up to wrap around his as he walked her over to the bed. She lifted her tank up and off as he sat down on the edge on the bed, Olivia now only bra-clad on his lap. She watched as his gaze lingered on her chest, his hands sliding up her torso to cup the black lace covered mounds. Reaching behind her, she skillfully unclasped her bra and Elliot’s mouth descended, gently sucking her right nipple into his warm, wet mouth. She gasped in surprise and pushed him away, motioning for him to lay flat on the bed as she ground down against his growing erection.

“Tell me, Liv. Tell me how you like to be touched.”

She smiled, her heart swelling at the idea of a man finally paying attention to her needs and not just taking what they want from her. Leaning down, she placed a chaste kiss on his lips before getting up off the bed to remove her jeans and underwear. Elliot followed suit, unbuttoning his jeans and shoving them down for her.

Fuck, he was going commando. She didn’t expect that.

She stared for a moment at his engorged cock, saying a silent thank you to whatever deity was listening that his arrogance matched his appendage. When she looked back up his sly grin was back and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

“Shut up.” She chuckled as she mounted him once more, her slick center coming into contact with his hardened member.

His grin disappeared as he bucked up into her, groaning at the feel of her naked body on his.

“Fuck Olivia. You’re so fucking gorgeous, baby.”

His hands traced their way back up her body, over her scars, her bruises, and came to rest on the side of her face. As his thumb traced her lips, she kissed it and sucked it into her mouth, lifting herself up and then lowering herself onto him. He met her halfway and pushed up until he was fully sheathed inside of her.

She groaned, albeit a little uncomfortably, as he was certainly bigger than Mikhail or, come to think of it, any man she had been with. Starting a slow rhythm, she rocked herself against him and guided his hand from her face to where their bodies met. Getting the hint, Elliot gathered some moisture onto his thumb and began to gently rub her clit in a clockwise motion.

“Ohhh, that’s it.”

Feeling herself get wetter and loosen up with each thrust of her hips, she leaned forward and brought her lips to Elliot’s ear.

“I need you to fuck me, El. Please.”

He rolled them over gently, positioning Olivia underneath him and continued to plunge into her at a steady pace.

“Fuck yes. Oh. Ohhh, El. Harder.”

Following her commands, Elliot slammed his hips into hers on the next thrust earning an appreciative moan from the brunette goddess below him.

“Liv. Oh, god you feel so good. I’m not…I’m not going to be able to last much longer.”

Humming in agreement she brought her legs up to her chest, Elliot catching on quickly and letting her calves come to rest on his shoulders. Speeding up his movements, Elliot obeyed her request to fuck her, hitting deep and hard.

“Oh….oh my god. Ugh!” She whimpered, feeling a familiar sensation begin to build. “El, I’m so close. Please.”

He grunted in acknowledgment, feeling his own orgasm approaching rapidly and reached down to rub at her clit once more.

“Yes! Fuck, Elliot I’m coming. I’m coming.” She wailed, her body convulsing below his as her powerful release took over.

“Liv. Liv, I’m…oh god, where can I-?” He asked, the sight of her coming bringing on his own undoing.

“In me.” She responded, breathlessly.

He came with a long moan, his body collapsing on top of hers and he could no longer hold himself up. Elliot peppered kisses along her hairline and down her cheek before rolling off and coming to rest at her side.

“That was-“

“Uh-huh.” She finished chuckling.

She turned to face him, the two of them smiling at each other like lovestruck teenagers.

“El I…I also,  uh…I mean –“

“I know, Liv.”

Feeling her emotions get the best of her yet again in her vulnerable state, she draped an arm across his stomach and nuzzled her face into his chest. She took a deep breath as she felt his hand come up, his fingertips tracing patterns across her back.

“Can I take you out to dinner tonight?” He asked after a moment, breaking their comfortable silence.

“Sure.” She hummed, still riding her post-release bliss. “Do you have any good hot dog vendors around here?”

Olivia felt Elliot’s boisterous laugh before she heard it, his chest rising and falling erratically, and couldn’t help but think how normal this felt. How it should have been like this since the beginning.

“Yeah, Liv. I’ll grab you a hot dog. Maybe even two.”

Chapter Text

She awoke to shouting.

Her first instincts were to retrieve her weapon from her bedside table, only to fully awaken into confusion when it wasn’t there. It took her a moment to recollect.

Albanians. Gym. Elliot.

Oh.

They had sex. Multiple rounds of mind-blowing, sensual, sex.

Tangled in his cream-colored bedsheets, Olivia struggled to a sitting position as she tried to make out the voices on the other side of the door. Elliot’s she could hear clearly but the other she had a hard time making-out beyond it being a feminine tone. Bernie? His daughters?

Ugh, please don’t let it be Floozy.

Managing to free herself from her linen restraints, Olivia jumped out of bed and rummaged through one of her duffel bags. She settled on her high waisted black yoga leggings and one of Brian’s old grunge band tees that she had cut into a crop top for when she worked out. Not the most glorious outfit, but at least the comfiest given her wounds. It was also the least inconspicuous. Not exactly the brightest idea to emerge in an NYPD shirt without knowing who was waiting for her on the other side of the door.

Running her fingers through her newly rumpled sex hair, she did her best to make herself look presentable and not freshly fucked. As she padded over to the door, the feminine voice got louder with, what can only be described as a bird-like screech, assaulting her ears.

Wait. She knows that screech.

Fuck, it’s Kathy.

Olivia opened the door slowly, doing her best to not alert Elliot’s already irate wife to her presence. Adjusting his stance, Elliot made eye contact with her over Kathy’s right shoulder, his gaze softening as she came into view.

“Five months? Five fucking months you’re back in New York, Elliot and our son gets kidnapped by the Russian mob? What the fuck are you doing?”

“I…” He emphasized, “…didn’t do anything. Richard is twenty-one, Kath and he made a stupid mistake. It’s handled, ok? Everything is fixed.” He replied, struggling to keep his tone even.

“Fixed? It’s the mob! You can’t just simply fix something like this!”

Olivia watched as Elliot brought his hand up to his temple, rubbing in a slow circle as his eyes closed. His bare chest heaved as he inhaled deeply, trying to steady himself.

Jesus. How long had they been going at it?

Clearing her throat, she alerted Kathy to her presence before speaking.

“The money that Richard owes has been paid back by the NYPD, under my command. They’re not going to go after him, Kathy. I promise. The Russians have bigger problems right now.”

She braced herself as the blonde spitfire in front of her turned on her heel, her venom now directed at the brunette leaning against the bedroom doorway.

 “Olivia? What are you doing here?” She demanded.

“It’s nice to see you too.” She cracked as she made her way further into the living room. “I’m here hiding out…I’m currently the Russians’ biggest problem.”

“Let me get this straight. You’re also undercover and you’re staying here…with my husband?” Kathy inquired, turning her attention back to Elliot. “Well, I’m sure that didn’t need much convincing, did it?”

Olivia watched as Elliot’s jaw twitched, his fingers balling up into a fist at his side.

“Enough already, Kath. I’m not your husband. You wanted the divorce and you’re getting it, so you have zero say in what goes on in my house. I understand you being worried about Richard, but that does not give you the right to barge in here and insult my parenting or Olivia, for that matter, considering she saved our son’s life. I think it’s best you leave.”

Shock evident on her face, Kathy scoffed as she swiped her purse off the couch and slung her jacket over her arm. Facing Olivia once more, her face hardened.

“You know, I knew it wouldn’t take long for Elliot to come crawling over to you…but I expected better from you as a woman than to open your legs for a married man.”

Olivia, with Irina always lying in wait nowadays, raised an eyebrow in return.

“And I expected better from you as a mother. You and I both know Elliot is as devoted as it gets to your children. Insult me all you want, but your marriage didn’t dissolve because of me and you know it. Don’t forget, I was the one who talked him out of divorcing your ass the first time around when you were the one begging me to convince him.”

Selfishly, Olivia enjoyed the way Kathy’s mouth dropped open, an eight-year-old secret finally emerging its way out of the unmentionable void.

“Wait a minute. You went to Olivia in hopes that she would convince me to sign the divorce papers? You actually went to my partner, my best friend, and put her in that position?” Elliot seethed, his voice rising with each punctuation.

“Yeah, you know what Elliot I did and you just demonstrated why. I was never going to live up to the place she had, and apparently still has, in your life. I was your wife but she was always always everything else. There’s no competing with that.”

With her last statement hanging in the air, Kathy moved around Olivia and headed towards the front door, slamming it on her way out.

An awkward silence fell over the living room as they gawked at each other, Elliot’s eyes filled with a mix of grief and rage. Olivia crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. Logically she knows that Kathy was being petty and that none of what she said held any weight…but a little annoying voice in her head was spiraling over her insult.

Was she wrong for allowing their relationship to move to the next level already?

Clearing her throat once more, she took a step forward but then changed her mind and moved towards the kitchen.

“I’m going to go look at some take-out menus. Anything in particular you want?” She called over her shoulder.

“Liv…” He spoke, his voice hoarse. “…did she really come to you? To make me divorce her?”

Running her teeth over her bottom lip, she then sighed and faced Elliot as she stood near the kitchen island.

“Yes.”

“For eight fucking years you never said anything…why?” He asked, cross.

“Because it wasn’t my place, Elliot! What did you want me to do? Come back from my fucking lunch break and say ‘Oh hey, guess what I just had a charming little talk with the missus and she would really like it if you would sign the fucking papers already?’ God, it was so…it felt like a fucking set up.”

“A set up?”

“Yes! Like if I agreed to it, she would have proof that I wanted you to leave her for me when I would have never ever asked that of you…or that she would turn the whole thing around and claim that she never had this conversation with me and that the divorce conversation was all my idea. I don’t know. It…it just felt wrong from the start so I shot her down and left it alone.”

“You should’ve told me. You know I would’ve never blamed you. My marriage was a mess for a long time.” He admitted.

“I didn’t know that, Elliot. You and I were in a rough spot back then when I returned from Oregon. I didn’t want to ruin our partnership while we were in the midst of trying to salvage it.”

Nodding, Elliot crossed the few feet between him and Olivia and pulled her into his bare chest, cradling her head against his sternum. She wrapped her arms around his waist loosely, taking a deep breath in and allowing the smell of his cologne and sweat calm her fraying nerves.

“I’m sorry you were ever put in that position...” He murmured as he kissed her temple. “…and that things are so fucked up, but I’m not sorry for being able to do this now, ok? I love you, Liv.”

“Well it’s about time!”

Startled, they pulled away from each other abruptly and looked towards the entrance where Bernie had somehow sneaked in.

“Mama, what the hell-”

“Kathleen’s outside, she dropped me off so I could collect some more things. I didn’t mean to intrude on such a nice moment but I couldn’t help it. I like this.” She joked as she waggled her finger between the two. “I’ll be out of your hair in just a minute. I just want to collect some of my books and art supplies.”

As she made her way to the guest room, Olivia couldn’t help but let out a strange strangled laugh.

“God this is so weird.” She stated, her hands gripping the sides of her head.

Elliot chuckled, joining in her amusement but it quickly turned serious as he pulled out his buzzing phone.

“What is it?”

“Reggie. He just messaged me that Mikhail contacted the Albanians. He’s saying that you’re not who they think you are and that he can prove it.”

“What? No, there’s no way-“

“He’s uh…apparently he’s referring to you as Olivia.”

Eyes wide, she glanced nervously between Elliot and his phone.

“How?” She asked, as she started hyperventilating. “I was so so so fucking careful, Elliot. There’s no goddamn way. How did he-? When-?”

Seeing her start to spiral, Elliot swiftly pocketed his phone and gripped her shoulders, pushing her back against the cool stainless steel refrigerator.

“It’s all right. Breathe, baby. Breathe. We’ll figure this out, ok? You and me, we’ll figure this out.”

Nodding numbly, she grasped at Elliot’s wrists as he was the only thing stopping her from collapsing into a heap on the floor as this threat loomed over them. If Mikhail knows she’s Olivia, it’s a matter of time before Kosta finds out that he’s Elliot…and then that’s the end of it all.

Chapter Text

“This can’t be happening…this just…it can’t be.” Olivia mumbled dazedly to herself as she sat on the edge of Elliot’s bed.

He had maneuvered her into his room shortly after calling his Sergeant and was now tossing random items of clothing at her over his shoulder.

“Get changed and we’ll deal with it. Dress as Irina, just in case.”

“As if I have anything left from Olivia Benson’s wardrobe. Do you see a blazer or dress pants in there?” She snapped.

“Liv, come on. I need you to focus.” He said softly, cupping her cheek. “Please get dressed. I’ll be in the living room, my team will be here any minute.”

She shook her hands out at her sides as he exited the room, leaving her all alone with her anxieties. Jolting upright, she twisted her neck around, cracking it, to release a little bit of tension. There was nothing she hated more than not being able to plan out her next move. Ever since Richard crashed her operation there’s just been a series of fuck-ups that she hasn’t been able to recover from. She was not on solid footing in the slightest and it was beginning to take a toll.

Letting out a harsh breath, she stripped herself of her band tee and leggings, reaching for the clothes that Elliot provided for her. Faux leather skinny leg pants and a long deep-v burgundy tunic tank with lace accents. Not quite the most Irina outfit she owned, but it would work. Leave it up to Elliot to put her ass on display in leather. Once dressed, she slipped back into her combat boots and dug through her bag for her make-up. It certainly needed to be touched up after her and Elliot’s numerous rounds of sex.

Using the mirror in his room, she quickly covered her eyes in dark shadow and lined her lower lashes with thick black eyeliner before adding in mascara. She grabbed the lipstick from earlier, which matched her shirt and swiftly applied it, running a pinky along the edges of her mouth the get rid of the excess. She finished freshening herself up by spritzing herself with the only perfume she had left in her travel bag, the scent a mix of coconut and vanilla. It’d have to do for now.

As she entered into the living area, she could see that they were certainly no longer alone. The young brunette she’d seen at their headquarters a few days ago was typing away at her computer while sitting at Elliot’s kitchen island. A couple of male detectives were sitting on the couch, crouched over case files that were spread across the coffee table. A figure approached on her right, causing her to flinch and maneuver herself into a defensive stance for a moment. The woman gave her a small, sad smile before introducing herself.

“Lieutenant” The woman began, “It’s nice to see you again. I don’t know if you remember me from the Women in Law Enforcement conference a couple of years ago-“

“Ayanna Bell.” Olivia finished, relaxing her shoulders. “Yeah, I remember you. You’re his superior?” She asked, motioning towards Elliot who stood behind her.

“Uh yes, yes I am.”

“And you haven’t rage-quit yet? Respect.”

Chuckles echoed around the room as Elliot scowled.

“You’re goddamn hilarious, Liv. Can we concentrate now?”

Smirking, she walked further into the living space, noting that nearly every pair of eyes were on her.

“Olivia these are Detectives Washburn, Reyes and Whelan. Back there is Jet, our resident tech wizard and you apparently already know Sergeant Bell. Everyone this is my former partner, Lieutenant Olivia Benson.”

She could hear the pride in his voice as he announced her title and name and it was almost enough to make her blush.

“I’d say it’s nice to meet you all, but I know we didn’t exactly have the best start.”

“About that…” Washburn started as he raised a finger.

“Don’t worry about it. We’re fine.” She answered quickly, nodding at the slight appreciative smile he gave in return.

“So Stabler tells us your cover is likely blown and his may or may not be. That right?” Detective Reyes inquired.

“Uh yeah, that’s right. I don’t know how they uncovered me, I infiltrated over eight months ago and up until an hour or two ago, they were none the wiser.”

“Looks like they followed a virtual paper trail stemming from a database search you did last week.” Jet piped up from the back of the room. “You went through some police records and pulled up Stabler’s old file?”

“Yes,” Olivia nodded, recalling the instance. “That was when they were holding Richard. Ivan and Sergei didn’t do a thorough search and had no idea he was a cop’s kid so I stepped in. Thought I could convince them that killing Richard would only bring more trouble.”

“Seems like that’s what tipped them off. Those two guys might not have seen the issue but it looks like Mikhail accessed the server. It’s just a hunch but he might’ve found it suspicious considering you knew exactly where to look.”

Sighing angrily at herself, she bent her head back and took a deep breath.

“Yeah, I uh…wasn’t in the best head space then. I should’ve cleaned that up before I left.”

Elliot silently observed as Olivia sunk back into herself, ignoring the continued chatter around her. To everyone else it would look as though she was simply getting lost in thought, but he knew better. She was berating herself, telling herself how stupid she was to make such a rookie mistake, second guessing whether or not she deserved everything that was coming to her due to her total loss of control of this operation. He felt his heart ache as she began to tongue at her lip ring, her arms instinctively crossing over her chest in an effort to comfort herself.

“We came barging in that night, Lieutenant, you probably didn’t have the time.” Detective Whelan offered as a consolation, also noting her off behavior.

“Regardless, there’s nothing we can do about it now.” Elliot interrupted. “But can we at least see if Mikhail contacted anyone else about this?”

“Doesn’t look like it from his phone and computer records but I obviously can’t account for word of mouth.” Jet answered with a shrug.

“I’ll talk with the rest of OCCB. It may be best to move in now.” Ayanna announced.

“No, let me go in first. If I can diffuse this, we don’t have to blow this operation.” Elliot countered.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. We don’t know what they know about you. Jet just said they know Richard Stabler is Elliot Stabler’s son. It’s not going to be a huge leap from Stabler to Wagner.”

“Jet erased my entire NYPD footprint, photos and all. How would they know?”

“I don’t know…” Ayanna conceded. “…but do we want to chance that?”

“No, you’re not going in without me.” Olivia announced, emerging from her dissociative state.

“With all due respect Lieutenant Benson, I can’t allow you to do that. This was first and foremost our operation and it is my job to see it through and call the shots. The correct ones, as best I can.”

“I understand and I’m not trying to pull rank…but he’s not going in without me. You only know the Albanians; you have not dealt with the Russians. Mikhail has been a thorn in my side since day one eight months ago and I’ve got a pretty good handle on him. I can get in his head. You can’t.”

“Yeah as long as you’re both high.” A voice came from the entryway.

 Elliot’s squad turned their attention, Reyes and Whelan reaching for their weapons on reflex.

“And just who are you?” Ayanna asked rudely.

“Dean Porter.” Elliot answered. “You’re her handler? You’ve been MIA on this, you left her to fucking fend for herself with absolutely zero help and now you’re just gonna show up to try to play hero? You’ve got some fucking, nerve.”

Olivia stood upright, ready to move herself in between the two men. While it was no secret to her that Elliot hated Porter, it wasn’t common knowledge to his squad which means they had no idea how volatile Elliot could become. She watched as Porter came into view, his standard issued gray suit and perfectly coiffed hair screaming “I’m a federal agent douche” just in case there was any doubt. Ayanna’s resigned huff let Olivia know that she was backing down. After all, he outranked everyone in the room.

“I’m not here to argue, Stabler. We’re moving in on the Russians and she…” He paused, jutting his chin towards Olivia, “…is going to be debriefed and then it’s off to rehab.”

“I don’t need rehab.” She retorted.

“Oh you don’t have a choice. I spoke with your chief, they’re not letting you back until you’re clean. No badge, no service weapon, no title.”

“You ratted her out.” Elliot accused; his voice dangerously low. “You son of a bitch, you put her in this position and now you’re hanging her out to dry to save your own ass.”

“My ass has always been safe, thanks for caring Stabler. I checked in as needed and made sure-”

“You didn’t check-in at all! Look at her!” Elliot bellowed, gesturing grandly to a battered Olivia who looked as though she wanted to sink into the floor and disappear. “You left her for dead and didn’t gave a damn. Now you’re threatening her livelihood?”

“You know better than anyone that there are certain hoops to jump through when you fuck up a case.” Porter said snidely. “She can either rise to occasion or throw in the towel…just like you did.”

With that last statement Elliot charged forward, Olivia quickly leaping in front of him, her hands grasping at his biceps, her feet sliding across the floor in her attempt to hold him back. Whelan hurdled towards them to assist as Porter smirked.

“Elliot!” She yelled. “He’s not worth this, El! Stop!”

“Enough!” Ayanna roared.

Elliot came to an immediate halt, maneuvering Olivia into his arms and keeping her at a safe distance from her supposed handler.

“My squad has a job to do, we infiltrated the Albanians, this is our play not yours.” She argued, her index finger mere inches away from Dean Porter’s chin. “Elliot, you’re going in. Lieutenant, you’re going to hang back with us and help us navigate Mikhail’s latest scheme.”

“She’s coming with me.” Came Porter’s gruff response.

“Not until we’re done here. She stays and that’s final. You don’t like it, you can get your superiors to call my superiors. We should be done by the time they come to any sort of decision.” Ayanna concluded. “Team and only my team...let’s move.”

Chapter Text

His large fingers tapped rhythmically against his desk as he sat back in his chair, his legs propped up and crossed at the ankle. He was beyond angry and due to his current circumstances, couldn’t do much about it. He would’ve loved nothing more than to beat Porter to a bloody pulp for outing Olivia’s faults like that. Calling her an addict in front of numerous NYPD personnel? How fucking low could you get.

Perhaps what made him angrier was that his rehab remark, although ill-timed, was something Elliot had also brought up the night Olivia came to him. She did need help but in hearing her response to Porter, he was worried that his shot at getting her healthy again was ruined. Just tack it on to the long list of reasons to hate the prick.

“Jesus, Elliot. Your thoughts are so loud even I have a headache.”

Smirking, Elliot looked over at the brilliant brunette sprawled on his couch, one arm thrown over her eyes as she rested.

“Sorry, I just uh-I really fucking hate that guy.”

“Sitting there and letting him live rent free in your head isn’t going to do anything.”

“That’s not true. Me fantasizing about all the ways I would kick the crap outta him is actually quite cathartic.”

The sound of her light chuckling filled the room, Olivia removing her arm from her face and cracking one eye open at him.

“Yeah, I know…but if you want to have a go at him you’re going to have to wait in line. I get first dibs.” She joked as she got up and walked around to the side of his desk taking a seat facing him.

Looking up at her, he moved his hand from the rich mahogany to her leather clad thigh, squeezing slightly. He still couldn’t believe this was their new reality; for some reason he thought that it wouldn’t feel this natural. Yet sitting here, watching as Olivia leaned towards him, their lips brushing against each other for just a moment…he realized this was how it should have always been.

“While we’re being honest about our feelings on this situation, I’ve gotta say I really don’t want you going in there without me.” She murmured as she sat back.

“I can handle Mikhail.”

“Sure…but if they buy his story can you handle Mikhail and the entirety of the Albanian organization?”

He could hear the fear in her voice, the quiver giving her away.

“I’ll be all right, Liv. I promise.”

Sighing deeply, she moved to sit on his lap. She ran her hands up his chest, unfastening the first couple of buttons on his gray patterned short sleeve shirt. As she pressed her lips to his, she pushed each side of his shirt back, exposing his bare chest. Elliot hands joined hers, holding her to him as his tongue prodded at her lips before being allowed to explore the caverns of her mouth. Their movements became more urgent; their anger, fear and desperation fanning the ever-present flames of the passion between them.

“You locked the door?” He asked against the skin of her neck.

“Yes.”

“Good. I don’t want anyone seeing what I’m about to do to you.”

Standing, Elliot flipped her around and pressed himself against her back, his hands roaming and gliding over her curves in the process. In the interest of time, he opted to leave her shirt on, and made his way down to her waistband, swiftly unbuttoning and unzipping her black leather pants. In one forceful move, he pushed them down to her knees along with her lace panties, just low enough to be able to maneuver her the way he wanted.

“El…” She keened as he licked and sucked at the skin between her neck and shoulder, her hand coming up behind her to hold his head in place.

“Bend over, baby.” He whispered in her ear. “I wanna taste you.”

As she leaned forward at the waist and rested her torso against the cool wood of his desk, she could hear him sit back down in his chair. She bit back a moan as she felt his callous hands rub the back of her thighs before cupping her cheeks and spreading them.

“You’re so wet already…so beautiful.”

She gasped as his tongue came in contact with her center, Elliot giving her one long thorough lick from her clit to her opening before delving in.

“Nuh-uh…” He chided, as Olivia released little moans and pants of pleasure. “You’re gonna have to be quiet. Can’t let everyone out there know you’re getting fucked, eh?”

Of all the ways she imagined this happening, not once did she think that Elliot Stabler would be eating her out bent over his office desk. She had many a fantasy back in the day of both him and her taking out their day on each other, fucking themselves into exhaustion over the interrogation room table… but this. This is a pretty close second to that scenario. Yelping, she nearly jumped as two fingers entered her while he sucked her clit into his mouth. The wet sound of his digits repeatedly thrusting into her filled the room as she did her best to keep her whimpers inaudible.

“Ellll…please. I need – fuck!” She whisper-shouted. “I need you. I need your cock in me, please.”

She heard him groan in response, his fingers leaving her with a distinct squelching sound now that she was all worked up. Her anticipation grew as she listened to the sound of his belt buckle being undone and then he was there, his cock hard and long, rubbing itself against her lips for lubrication.

“Are you ready for me, Liv?”

“Obviously…” She hummed.  “How long are you going to tease me like this?”

“I’m just making sure. This one’s gonna get rough, baby.”

Reaching behind herself, she gripped his member in her hand and positioned him against her entrance, simultaneously wiggling her ass backwards against him.

“All right, all right. So impatient.” He goaded.

Her sarcastic response died on her lips as she felt him drive into her, her hand coming down to slam on the desk as he bottomed out.

“Fuck, El. You feel so good.”

Elliot groaned, pulling out slowly before slamming back in, building a steady and punishing pace. He watched as Olivia’s back arched, her fingers clenching and grasping at nothing as she pushed her chest into the table. Unable to stop himself, he wrapped one arm around her waist lifting her upright, the other coming up the grab at her throat.

“This ok?” He asked in between thrusts, squeezing her throat lightly.

“Very.” She purred as she reached down to play with herself.

“Let me.”

The hand wrapped around her waist dipped lower, aggressively pushing her hand out of the way in order to play with her clit. She bit back a moan as the rough pads of his fingertips rubbed her bundle of nerves in a perfectly pressured circular motion. In conjunction with his relentless pounding, it was becoming too much. If he didn’t take it easy on her she was going to scream and his entire office was going to know that Detective Stabler was not only fucking his old partner, but a superior officer. The rumors that would fly.

“Elliot…you need to…I can’t.” She managed to get out, her voice a strangled cry.

“You can’t?” He panted. “Yes, you can. You’re doing so well taking all of my cock like this. Mmmm, such a good girl, Liv.”

At the sultry sound of his gruff voice, she felt herself become even wetter. Jesus, what a time to discover she has a praise kink.

“Gonna…scream.” She warned as she felt her orgasm building. “Choke me.”

Feeling a jolt of new adrenaline course through his veins, his grip on her throat tightened as his hand below moved faster.

“Yes.” She croaked out. “Yes, yes, fuck that’s it! Ohhh, I’m coming. Elliot, I’m gonna-“

He squeezed her tighter as he felt a rush of wetness come forth, expelling him from her body. With a smothered whimper, her legs gave out, Elliot using his grip on her waist to help lay her across the desk. She rolled over to her side, purposely putting her bottom half on display.

“Keep going.” She panted, exhausted. “Use me. I want you to come.”

Not having to be told twice Elliot entered her again, this time a little less forceful, as he did not want to overstimulate her. He was already close when Olivia reached orgasm so it did not take him long to find his own release, grunting as he finished inside of her. He rested his hands on either side of her body and she turned onto her back, allowing her legs to hang off the desk between his as he stood over her.

“Mmm, I don’t think us being quiet will matter once they see the mess we made.” She hummed.

“Well maybe you should’ve told me you were a squirter and I could’ve been better prepared.”

“Sorry,” She snickered. “It’s been a minute.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, Elliot leaning forward to press his forehead against hers and repeatedly plant soft kisses along her cheek, jaw and lips.

“Elliot, I need you to do something.”

“Anything, Liv.”

“Say the safe-word the minute you have a bad feeling. Don’t ignore your gut, don’t think you’re being paranoid, don’t try to outsmart everyone, just use the fucking word. I need you to come back to me. We’re not ending like this. Promise me.”

He nodded solemnly, his nose brushing against hers.

“I promise, Liv.”

Chapter Text

Huffing, she uncrossed and recrossed her arms, the tips of her fingers tapping nervously against her own skin.

He went in without an earpiece, Ayanna concluding that it would be too much of a risk if the Albanians were buying Mikhail’s bullshit and questioning Eddie Wagner’s loyalty. While Jet assured her that she had the place properly wired up and would be able to hack into the gym’s security cameras, it did nothing to quell the mounting fear inside of her.

She wanted in. Tried every single way she could think of to convince Ayanna that she needed to be in that office, but it fell on deaf ears. Merely days sober and in too deep, she was far too much of a liability. Logically as a lieutenant even she knew that, but that didn’t change the fact that they were Benson and Stabler.

“Heading in…hope you guys are hearing me all right.”

Olivia felt her chest clench at Elliot’s gruff voice coming through Jet’s computer set-up, wanting nothing more to assure him that they were watching, waiting, and ready to go at his word.

But she couldn’t.

So she uncrossed her arms again, shaking them out to her side as she started to pace, ignoring the curious eyes of Elliot’s team as she moved.

“Eddie…glad you could make it. Please, have a seat.”

Elliot entered the room carefully, feeling out the atmosphere. Reggie had met him at the door to the gym, quickly filling him in on the current situation. He let him know that he already offered up his vote of confidence, as Mikhail had showed up high out of his mind, rambling like some ridiculous conspiracy theorist about how Irina was not who she claimed to be. He assured Elliot, well Eddie, that no one was quite buying this theory of Irina actually being a cop, but given the chaos of recent events everyone was on edge.

Taking a seat a little further into the room, Elliot locked eyes with Mikhail and stared him down.

“No problem. Why is this weasel here?”

Mikhail muttered something under his breath, promptly earning a knock to the head from Reggie.

Kosta leaned back in his chair from behind his desk, his hands raised and held out on either side of him.

“This weasel provided some pretty concerning information…that the lovely little Irina you just paraded in here is actually a member of the NYPD.”

Laughing loudly, Elliot leaned forward resting his arms on his knees.

“Are you kidding me?”

“We’re not exactly laughing are we Eddie?” Albi asked brusquely from the corner of the room.

“All right, all right. I’ll admit, I didn’t spend a lot of time with her but I know cops. She ain’t NYPD, she’s too street smart. She was also in a relationship with this asshole who beat on her all day, every day. How do we know he’s not just saying this to get a hold of her and finish the job?”

Kosta sighed, looking back and forth between Elliot and Mikhail.

“Well, our man’s right. How do we know this isn’t part of some desperate ploy to try and kill your girl?”

“I won’t deny I want her dead, but that wasn’t my motive for coming here. My organization just crumbled, raided yesterday evening by the FBI. She was our only weak link. I’m telling you; she’ll get you next.”

A tense silence filled the room, Elliot doing his best to keep a blank face as multiple possible scenarios ran through his head.  Clearing his throat, he rose to his feet and folded his arms in front of him.

“Let me humor you for a second…say she is NYPD, FBI or whatever. What was your proof? Surely you came prepared with some evidence before barging into a rival’s headquarters.”

“She logged onto one of our servers searching for the family of a Richard Stabler. When she didn’t find what she was looking for, she logged onto the NYPD database. How the fuck would she be able to do that if she wasn’t one of them?”

She couldn’t breathe.

This was it, the moment she knew was coming. He was about to be made because of her faults and there was not a damn thing she could do to stop it.

“Ayann-Sergeant…we have to go in.” She managed to force out.

“Not until he gives word.”

“They are two steps away from-”

“I know where they’re at, Lieutenant, but with all due respect my team isn’t moving until Stabler gives us the signal.”

Irritated, Olivia slunk back against the wall behind Jet’s desk, her eyes focused on the screen in front of her. No one has moved as Elliot and Mikhail exchange words, Elliot doing his best to prove, inconspicuously, that she was innocent. She could see the eyes of Albi and Kosta connect and immediately felt sick.

They didn’t believe him. They know who she really is. And this was all about to come crashing down.

It happened so fast that he didn’t even have time to duck.

Albi pulled his gun, prompting Mikhail to pull his and before anyone could truly grasp the situation, bullets were whizzing overhead.

He felt an impact to his right forearm and went down. Groaning, he rolled over and scoured the room. Albi was down, Kosta was still seated in his chair, blood dripping down the center of his forehead from a single bullet hole, and Reggie appeared to have run out the room.

Mikhail was injured but alive, struggling to get to his feet and find a weapon. Elliot attempted the same but soon found himself falling to the floor once more, the rush of adrenaline making him unsteady on his feet. He could hear the sound of a gun cock and looked up to see Mikhail standing over him, smiling bitterly.

“You just had to let me have her…just her. And none of this would have happened.”

She was out the door before Ayanna officially gave the order; running down the street as she followed the echo of gunshots. Praying to a god she didn’t always quite believe in, Olivia bust through the entrance of the Albanian gym, the residual members fleeing and heading towards the back exits as the sound of sirens filled their ears. She ran towards Kosta’s office, the door already open allowing her to see a bloodied Elliot writhing on the floor.

“El!”

She watched as his head snapped up, shaking it strongly as she entered.

“Liv, don’t!”

She let out a strangled cry as a hand closed around her throat and threw her back against the door jamb.

“Olivia, is it?” Mikhail taunted as he pressed the barrel of the gun to her temple, his lips skimming her jawline as he pressed his body into hers. “So nice to officially meet you.”