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She glared at Fin through her office door not that she could make eye contact with him as he was suspiciously avoiding her gaze. But she knew who was responsible for telling the vibrating mass of anxiety, anger and annoyance in front of her about her little incident.
“What happened?”
He looked at her in exasperation and it only served to increase her irritation. Acting as if it were her fault!
“This was me doing my job, Detective,” she spat out pointing at the bruising on her face and hoping the inflection on his title would remind him of who he was, who she was and where they were.
“No, that was you and whatever goddamn hero complex you’ve got going on. Jesus, Liv. You shouldn’t even be out in the field. You see Dixon running round in the field taking down perps?!”
“Hero complex? That’s rich coming from you. Scaled any buildings lately to rescue one of your mobster lovers?”
The vein in his neck nearly exploded and she felt a rush of grim satisfaction.
“I’m serious Liv, I don’t want to have to tell your son…”
Of all the presumptuous, arrogant…She took a breath trying to keep hold of her temper.
“Let’s get one thing straight, if my son had to be told anything about me, it wouldn’t be you doing the telling. You’ve met him once for half a second. He has four godfathers, a godmother and a whole squad that treat him as their own. You wouldn’t have a role to play if it ever came to that.”
She saw him physically recoil and underneath her anger at his behaviour she’d admit later to feeling a twinge of guilt.
“I just,” he started haltingly, “I don’t like seeing you put yourself in harms way unnecessarily.”
“I’m a cop Elliot, it goes with the territory.”
“You’re a Captain,” he replied shortly.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Fin eyeing them both with concern and probably no small amount of guilt.
“You know what Elliot, I appreciate the concern but I gotta be honest it falls a bit flat.”
“Liv-“
“I don’t remember hearing you check in or wanting to make sure I was ok in the ten years you were gone. You don’t get to waltz in here now as if you care, like we’re still partners or you have any relevance or say in how I do my job. Caring isn’t location specific. You didn’t give a damn how I was while you were gone so don’t think you can start now just because you’ve chosen to stay in New York. Keep your opinions to yourself, Detective Stabler before I write you a rip.”
She felt a slither of surprise as, after a beat, she watched him back down, deflate almost. She’d expected him to argue with her. But he merely turned his face away from her and nodded.
“Message received,” he ground out, his voice taking on an uncharacteristic brittleness she’d only heard from him on rare occasions.
And then he walked away, shrugging off Fin’s attempts to console. And as she watched him depart Liv felt all the adrenalin rush out of her body.
Shit.
<><><><>
She’d debated calling him. She’d debated turning up on his doorstep. The problem was that she wasn’t sure what she would say. Nothing she’d said to him had been untrue. It hadn’t even been unfair. But it had been hurtful and she never, ever, even in her most grief stricken moments, ever wanted to hurt him.
She’d contemplated sending Fin but she wasn’t even sure what message she wanted him to pass on.
She had been brooding over it all for two days when the subject of her musings walked hesitatingly into her office.
“Can I come in?” His voice was uncertain and she mentally kicked herself even more. They’d been doing so well.
“Yeah, of course,” she replied awkwardly and he shut the door behind him.
“I just wanted to apologise,” he began.
“Elliot-“
“It was unprofessional of me to talk to you like that. It won’t happen again.”
Liv swallowed thickly, trying to find words of apology of her own that wouldn’t come.
“You were right. I don’t have any rights here, as a partner, as a colleague, I barely even have them as a friend.”
Her eyes filled with water, as she watched him ground out the words, his emotions so clear for her to see. Shame. Sorrow. Guilt.
“I’d thought…I…” he chuckled humourlessly at his own lack of articulation before finally holding her gaze.
“You’re never going to forgive me are you?” The way he asked it was less a question and more of a statement.
“I mean, I don’t deserve it, I know that. And I think that if Kathy hadn’t…I don’t think you would have given me the time of day.”
He says it with such surety she doesn’t know what to think.
“I’ll be forever grateful to you, for this last year and a half. What you’ve done for me, for the kids. I wouldn’t be standing here…” he breaks off and she takes a step forward as if to comfort but he holds up a hand and shakes his head.
“I heard you the other day, Liv. I don’t have any rights where you’re concerned. I’ll stay out of your way, I promise.”
And then he was gone. Turned on his heel and walked out of her office and for all she knew, out of her life.
Son of a bitch.
<><><><>
It was impossible for him however to completely, stay out of her way. Organised Crime and SVU had too many cases that crossed over for that to be the case. But she left most things to Bell and Fin to work out. And there was no more working cases solely together. If she hadn’t still been so mad at his martyrdom she would have wallowed in the sadness she felt at the current state of their relationship. It had been invigorating working with him again. Albeit infrequently compared to their halcyon days as partners, but regularly enough to infuse her with a joy for her work that she hadn’t felt in a long time.
Fin had told both of them to get their heads out of their asses. But anger for her was safer, much safer than actually analysing whether he was right. Could she ever forgive him? Him leaving the way he did, the zero contact in between. Everyone always leaves. He proved Serena right and she hated that. Because he was the one person that was always meant to be different.
His overbearing interfering behaviour that day hadn’t however been the sole reason for her reaction. She knew it. While yes he’d pissed her off when she’d walked in to the squad room to find him berating Fin for letting her get hurt. Fin of all people. The one that hadn’t left. That had watched her back for all these years while Elliot was off playing happy families in Rome or wherever and had conveniently forgotten she existed.
But she’d already been triggered before she walked in. Not that she would admit it to anyone. It was the conversations that she had heard at 1PP. About Stabler and some Italian cop he had been partnered with Rome. The obvious history and chemistry between the two.
She hated that it bothered her. She hated that she had been fooled into thinking she had a different place in his life. That they had been moving into a different phase of their friendship, when in reality it was obvious. He just didn’t see her in that way. And as much as she knew she was important to him, she wasn’t everything to him. Would never be.
She’d also heard that the cop had gone rogue and had used Elliot and abused his trust and caused mayhem which had resulted in OC detectives chasing her through the market.
His taste in women, Kathy aside, left a lot to be desired.
Which instead of making her feel better, made her feel worse.
She looked up from the malbec she was swirling towards the door. Duartes had already messaged to say he was running late and for her to order but she wasn’t feeling all that hungry and as she motioned to the waiter for another glass, she saw the hunched figure at the bar.
She knew that profile anywhere. Knew that he’d had a tough few weeks, although when didn’t he? Without really thinking about it she moved from her table towards the bar. She’d wonder later if it was muscle memory, an instinctive need to just be by his side. Despite everything, he was still her partner. The only one she had let in. The only one she…
“That helping?” she asked him as she took a seat on the stool next to him and motioned towards the whiskey in his hand.
She was impressed by his lack of reaction, but she knew him well enough to see the tell around his eyes. That vein at his neck pulsing slightly quicker as he registered her presence.
“Not particularly,” he grumbled before looking at her. His eyes travelling down her dress before meeting her eyes again.
“You on a date?”
There was no point in denying it.
“Yeah, he’s running late.”
“Duartes?”
This surprised her. She didn’t know he knew and she narrowed her eyes at him before he smirked.
“Fin hates him.”
“Fin has never liked any of my boyfriends. He’s a bit like you in that regard.”
Elliot shook his head in amusement, “No, Fin’s got good judgement. You’ve got terrible taste in men.”
“Said the pot to the kettle,” she retorted, hating how easy it was to spar with him. That frisson of excitement that for all of their partnership she had treasured.
“Touché,” he signalled to the bartender and looked at her in expectation, she nodded at the silent offer of a top up.
“You want to tell me what’s got you sitting at the bar on your own, downing expensive whiskey?”
“Not particularly,” he muttered, “And I’m pretty sure you don’t want to hear it anyway so…” he gestured with his hands and she suddenly felt sad.
“That’s not true,” she defended herself.
“Isn’t it? Come on Liv,” he snorted and took a long swig of his drink. Too long for the whiskey to be enjoyed properly, he was drinking to get drunk.
He turned his body to look at her fully.
God she missed him.
“I barrel into your life, get you in trouble with the brass. More than once I might add. Infect you and your life with my grief, my problems, my PTSD. Expecting you to help me. Even though…” he couldn’t seem to get the words out.
“Even though you abandoned me and acted like I didn’t exist for ten years?” her level tone belied the emotions swirling in her stomach.
He nodded miserably, “Yeah. That.”
They sat in silence for a bit, both sipping at their drinks, the air filled with all the emotions that had surrounded them both since his return.
Elliot’s phone buzzed on the bar, Liv stole a look and berated herself for the spark of relief to see it was a message from Mo. Elliot looked mournfully at his phone and sighed. Enough for her to be concerned that his current mood wasn’t work related.
“Are the kids ok?” she asked, trying to keep the note of panic out of her voice.
His eyes darted from her to his phone and back again. He looked awkward rather than grief stricken.
“Yeah. They’re just a little fed up with me at the moment.”
Don’t ask, don’t ask.
“Why?”
She was always going to ask.
He shook his head as if he wasn’t going to answer and she couldn’t help the frustration that boiled over.
“Hey you took those kids away from me for ten years. You don’t get to do it for another ten. What’s the matter with Maureen?”
He looked shocked at the level of emotion and immediately tried to placate her.
“They’re fine I promise, I promise you. They’re fine.”
He took a deep breath obviously struggling with what to say to her.
“It’s Seamus’ birthday next week,” he began awkwardly.
“And?”
“And Mo has been on my case at inviting you and Noah.”
Oh. Did he not want to…
“I obviously would love nothing better but I promised you I would stay out of your life Liv but I don’t want that to impact on your relationship with the kids. So..” he gestured at his phone that laid unanswered.
“Maureen is worried that the reason you didn’t come at Christmas last year, that you haven’t been at the house when we’ve got together is because of how I left. How we all left.”
“That’s not why…”
“I know, I’ve tried telling her that I’m the problem but that just encourages them to tell me to fix it. And I don’t know how to or even if you want me to.”
She didn’t know either. How to fix it that was. She knew she wanted to. He’d missed so much. He’d been everything to her and then left. All she had to travail without him. How did they ever get past all of that?
“We’ll be there.”
She spoke without really thinking it through. Instinctive.
He looked shocked.
“Liv – “
“I love those kids Elliot. You don’t get to keep them from me anymore. We’ll be there.”
He swallowed deeply, looking at her and finally nodded.
“You should bring Duartes,” he croaked.
Well that was a surprise.
“If he’s important to you, the kids would like to meet him.”
She laughed humourlessly, “I’ll think about it.”
She wouldn’t bring him. Whatever was happening with Duartes was more of an itch that needed to be scratched. But it was a little amusing to see Elliot try to be so understanding and magnanimous.
The door to the bar opened and she saw the familiar frame of the man in question. By her reaction Elliot quickly deduced it too. Duartes had spotted them before she could say anything and in the blink of an eye realised she was going to have to introduce them.
“Hey,” she said, trying to infuse her tone with warmth.
“Hey, I’m sorry I’m late,” he said genuinely. Elliot flicked his eyes to her then turned his whole body round on the stool to face the newcomer.
“Duartes, this is…”
“Detective Stabler! I’ve heard a lot about you,” Duartes said with a cheeky grin and she watched in relief as Elliot returned it.
“Likewise,” Elliot said and held out his hand for Duartes to shake warmly.
She wasn’t sure why she felt disappointed. Elliot was being…nice. She didn’t want him to be nice. She wanted him to be passive aggressive and disapproving and all alpha male.
God who even was she?!
“I was just keeping your seat warm,” Elliot said as he got up and motioned for Duartes to replace him.
“No man, you should stay, let’s have a drink?”
Elliot clapped him on the back as Duartes sat down, “That’s nice of you, but another time yeah? I promised my Mom I’d drop in on my way home.”
“Okay, I’ll accept that. Our Mama’s have to come first but soon. I’d love to talk to you properly. I think we have a lot in common.”
Duartes looked at him seriously and Elliot returned the gaze in the same manner.
What on earth was happening?
“We do. I’ll be in touch and we’ll organise something. It’s really good to meet you Captain.”
“Likewise,” Duartes responded and Liv looked on in shock as they gave each other a manly slap on the arm and with a quick glance in her direction Elliot was gone.
She was still looking at the door that Elliot had exited when Duartes placed his hand over hers.
“Olivia Benson?” he said with a smile and she dragged her eyes to meet his.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
She really didn’t know.
<><><><>
A week later she still didn’t know.
It had been a fair question. Duartes had, scarily, seen the subtext between her and Elliot and bowed out gracefully. They’d parted with a warm hug and a somewhat strange insistence that he still wanted to meet Elliot properly for a drink at some point.
Now she found herself stood at Elliot’s door, a wrapped present for Seamus under her arm, Noah vibrating with excitement at meeting the entire Stabler clan. Big families were a massive fascination for him. So much so it almost made her feel regretful that she hadn’t been able to provide him with one. But as Amanda always reminded her, Noah did have a big family, just not in the usual sense.
She hadn’t seen or heard from Elliot since the bar. Maureen had sent her an email with the details for Seamus’ party, to be hosted by his grandad and an impassioned plea to join, along with an apology for all the years they hadn’t been in contact. It was so moving Liv had arranged to meet Maureen a few days earlier.
It had been cathartic, and emotional. Her siblings, bar Eli who was still in California, had all joined. They had thanked her for her support since Kathy’s death, apologised for not keeping in touch and implored her to attend the family gathering. She’d assured them she didn’t need convincing, that she loved them, and couldn’t wait for them to get to know Noah properly.
It had felt like a huge weight had been lifted.
They intimated that although they hadn’t known at the time, they had learned that she had been though some tough times during her ten year estrangement from their father. They told her how they had always spoken about her, the retelling of Eli’s birth a family tradition, Kathleen’s court hearing, Dickie’s brush with the law, Maureen’s teenage angst and Lizzie’s ever perfectness. How their Mom had always spoken about her with such love and affection.
She didn’t mention the letter. Or the obvious feelings or questions Kathy must have had about her relationship with Elliot given what had been written.
They also didn’t disguise how much they had hoped Liv would repair her relationship with their father.
“He always missed you, Liv,” Maureen had said quietly while her siblings were at the bar. “He still does.”
She’d always expected to have that kind of conversation with Kathleen, not Mo, who favoured her mother so.
She ran her hand through Noah’s hair for the umpteenth time and he shrug away from her in pre-teen annoyance as she tried to regulate her breathing.
Why was she so nervous? She was in a good place with the Stabler kids. Bernie was always welcoming. Noah had met Elliot already and was excited to meet the rest of of his family.
It was her.
The door swung open, and she tried not to interrogate the feeling she had when she realised it was Bernie welcoming them.
“Olivia!!! Noah!!! Welcome! Welcome! Come on in! We’ve all been expecting you. And Noah, you have to call me Grandma B, I insist! Kieran and Seamus are so excited to meet you.”
Oliva watched as her son took Bernie’s declarations of her position in his life as standard. He threw his arms around Elliot’s mother as if he’d known her his entire life and barrelled into the apartment into the embrace of the Stabler family.
She observed, almost in a daze, as her son made his place amongst the people she loved so much. Introductions were made, hugs occurred, all with the aim of making sure that her boy felt accepted, loved and welcome.
Her first glance of Elliot was of him fist bumping her boy with a smile and ease that she had, in her deepest dreams, always imagined them having. And then they were off, into the Stabler throng of party games, hilarity and mischievousness. And Olivia was reminded of the twins birthday parties when they small. Kathy harassed and grateful for Liv as a sane human being ready to help as they navigated sugar infused kindergartens.
The memories were overwhelming and as she took a breath she felt Maureen’s hand at her back. Supportive. Loving. Followed by Dickie’s arm around her shoulders, dragging her into the melee.
As if she belonged.
And she realised. She did. She always had.