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A/N: Jaz got me to write this.
the bracelet
He is exerting actual effort to keep his gaze off of her full, lipstick-stained lips. There's also the smooth dip of her exposed clavicle and the indecent way her clothes fit. They’re four weeks into November. Thanksgiving weekend to be precise, and she shouldn’t dress this way.
It’s professional, he supposes. A knitted, royal blue sweater and slacks… but the cut of it is provocative. The asymmetrical neckline and the freckles on her chest are just as distracting as her sweet perfume filling the car. He’s been lucky enough to get a few whiffs of it lately.
He's dizzy just sitting next to her.
She slides her free hand through her hair, pushing her long bangs out of her face in the process. It exposes her long neck, the slick curl of her sideburn, and an adorable dimple set deep into her left cheek.
She’s asked only one question since he told her OCCB was likely shutting down— will you be leaving again? He’d answered no, and since then, she’s been trying not to look his way. She's been trying to hide how delighted she is with his answer.
“So what ?” she huffs, the apples of her cheeks lifting despite how monotone her voice is. “You want a job at SVU? You’re gonna haveta send me your résumé and interview like everyone else. No shortcuts.”
Elliot shifts in the driver's seat to look at her, lifts his coffee to his own lips, and before he takes a sip, he responds. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Not exactly a hot commodity in the NYPD,” is his honest answer. Everyone knows about Elliot Stabler and they either love him and call him a hero or they flat-out hate him. “Don’t know right now. I’ll figure something out.”
“You can come to SVU if you need to. For however long. I think Amanda’s leaving anyway. She's going through something and I'd hate to push her too far... but I've been hearing of some teaching opportunities for her.” Olivia plays with her straw, absent as she twirls it around. "You hear anything?"
"About Amanda Rollins? No," he chuckles. "Ask Fin. He knows everything."
"Fin will give me a heads up, I'm sure," she says before a hefty sigh.
“OCCB will be closed in a matter of weeks. How soon will you need a man?”
They both hear the way the question sounds. Olivia lifts a brow his way and chuckles when she catches his face heating up.
"At SVU," Elliot blurts. "How soon do you think Rollins will leave the department?" he restates for clarity.
Olivia shrugs both shoulders. “Can't say.”
He’s smiling fondly when he muses, “that’d be a shit show. Me working under you.”
“Would it be? I know all your tricks. I’ll just cut you off before you get in too deep. Remember, I know when you’re lying—“
He scoffs. “So does Ayanna—“
“You squint,” she murmurs.
“What?” he turns to look at her.
“When you lie,” she supplies, glancing his way. “You narrow your eyes.”
"Who told you that? Bernie? She always says that.”
“Thirteen years,” she reminds him. She was his partner for thirteen years.
"Yeah," he agrees. "Guess we do know everything about each other."
"Beg to differ," she says without a beat. "Are you kidding me?"
"I mean, sure. There are things I don't know now but I know you."
"If you say so," she mutters back and they ease into another block of silence. She looks out the passenger window and his eyes stay trained forward for as long as he can keep them away from her. They’re right outside the sixteenth precinct and she’d agreed to come down and chat, for the coffee, he’s sure. Definitely not just for him— she barely answers his calls.
Her hand lifts with one slim finger pointed and she draws a tiny heart on the half-fogged window. Then, “I’m sick of people leaving and I hate change.”
It's obvious she means Amanda Rollins but she must mean him, too. “I’m sorry, Liv," is all he can muster before he's clearing his throat.
“Don't be. I’m not stupid. I can see how and why she's leaving… We both know how dangerous this job is. I just— she’s my friend and I know she's been struggling.” Her finger slides down the window before it drops and her arm lands on the armrest of the car door. He thinks she’s going to go for the handle, to leave him here to finish his coffee alone but she walks her fingers up the leather fabric and then down again. "Maybe it's for the best," she sums in a soft voice.
The back of her head hits the headrest and it rolls until she's looking at him again. Her tongue flicks out and wets her lower lip and his eyes drop to her mouth. Those dimples appear again as a smile grows on her face. "Just so you know, Stabler," she starts, and he knows by the levity in her tone that her wallowing is over. “If you come to SVU, you’re taking a pay cut.”
He laughs, allowing himself to ease a bit. “Why?” he asks, playing along.
“Payback,” is her easy response.
He nods, poking his bottom lip out. “Well, what if I get you a really nice gift?”
“Sounds like payola,” she deadpans.
“Only if it comes with a promotion,” he corrects.
“Well, I am due for a nice handbag. What’s your credit limit?”
It hasn’t been this easy in some time. They never get to go back and forth this way anymore. She doesn’t allow for it, usually. "How much is a good bag these days? Couple hundred bucks?"
Olivia scoffs before she answers with a quiet " yeah right ."
She fiddles then with the door handle and the dread of her leaving so soon blooms in his gut again. He turns away, bracing himself for the words but then he hears the clack of plastic.
“Hey, El?” Liv asks.
He turns toward her to find her holding a fist between them over the console. He eyes her hand for a split second. “Hmm?”
“Who is…” her hand loosens and a white beaded bracelet hangs from her finger.
His daughters used to make him bracelets like this one when they were kids. They usually said things like ‘ best dad ’ or ' number one dad .'
This bracelet though only has two words.
Liv barely lets him read it before she asks, “Who is Zia Tia ?”
A cop with his history should’ve been able to get out of this easily but he finds himself freezing. His mouth opens and shuts but nothing comes out.
Olivia interrogates just like he does so she quickly follows up with another question. “Does this bracelet belong to Agent Tia Leonetti? Interpol ?”
Heat rises up, his neck and his ears reddening as he forces an answer out. “Yeah. My old partner... That must be hers. Sh -she was in town.”
“When?” Liv asks.
Elliot groans and adjusts in his seat. The cup in his hand almost bends with the involuntary squeeze of his fingers. “Couple weeks ago—“
“So she was in your car, then?” she interjects before he’s done speaking. The easy friendliness from before begins to fetter away.
Elliot chuckles but it’s uncomfortable. “We worked together.”
Olivia nods once and he's unable to read her straight face. " Interesting, " she breathes, voice even. She takes a moment to inspect the bracelet in her palm before tucking it back into the little crevice on the door where she must've found it.
Fucking Tia. She's getting an earful later.
He feels like a man who's been caught being unfaithful. It's how he felt when he'd been staring back at Tia's face.
It's just his speed. Suffocating under guilt even when he hasn't done anything wrong. “Nothing happened,” he supplies.
“Heard you were hanging out with someone from your past,” Olivia provides.
If he's not mistaken, there's an edge to her voice. It startles him into second-guessing what is happening between them. Is she upset? Is she angry with him?
Is Liv jealous?
An hour ago he wasn't even sure she cared enough to see him. Questions begin filtering in and out of his head but he tries to put a stop to them before he can get ahead of himself.
“We worked together,” he echoes. To avoid an overreaction, he'd rather explain. “It was all work," he says again.
When Olivia doesn't respond the questions strike up once more.
Had Liv seen them together? Does Liv know more than she's leading him to believe? There isn't more to know and still, he feels guilty.
He'd never been completely honest with Kath, he knows this now.
Olivia deserves the truth.
"I mean, Tia would’ve stayed if I wanted her to but—“
“I didn’t ask," Olivia says quickly. "As it is none of my business. Remember?”
“Liv.” Elliot releases a dramatic breath. “I didn’t… sleep with her or anything.”
“I didn’t ask," she says a little louder than before.
“Well, I want you to know,” Elliot responds.
“Why?”
Elliot shrugs and offers his best explanation. “Because…” Shit. He's really not good at this.
And it’s not good enough for Liv. “Because what ?” she snaps.
“Because you should know that I’m not—“
“You’re not what ?” she presses.
“Interested…" he groans. "In anyone… else .”
“What’s that got to do with me, Elliot?”
“Jesus, Liv,” he breathes, reaching for her hand. She allows him to grab hold of it, watching him as he clasps their palms together tight. “I always hated fighting with you.”
“This isn’t a fight,” she insists softly. She's looking out of the window when she says, “I’m very happy for you.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yes,” she rasps. “With everything that happened with Kath, these last few years, OCCB closing... you deserve to be happy. Don’t ever let anyone tell you that you don’t.” Her hand squeezes once and she attempts to release his but his grip firms up.
“Let me get this straight,” he grumbles. “You’re happy for me?”
“Yeah. That's what I said. Good luck with… whoever you end up with.” She takes a final sip of her coffee before dropping the cup into the cupholder. “And I'd like to… stop forcing this. Stop trying to meet for coffee, stop insisting on being my friend or asking to—”
“You used to pity me when I acted like this so I’m going to give you the same grace.”
“Excuse me?” she spits.
“I don’t understand why you’re being like this. You have other friends, too.”
He watches as her eyes narrow and drop to their joined hands between them once more. “Let go of my hand,” she murmurs quietly.
“You do,” he says simply, squeezing for emphasis. “Liv, I hear things, too, but I don’t let them get between us.”
She takes his bait. “You hear things like what?”
“There’s a captain from The Bronx you meet up with sometimes. A man.”
Olivia barely even reacts. “ And —“
“And there’s Trevor Langan.”
A laugh bubbles out of her mouth and she turns her wrist out, pulling her hand from him. “Are you following me, Elliot?“
“Are you following me ? You knew Tia’s name before I ever said it.”
“Fuck you, Elliot,” Olivia bites out and every muscle in his entire body locks up. He knows what's coming now. “Who I spend time with is not your business. It certainly wasn’t ten years ago and it isn't now.”
He considers interjecting, but she’s on a roll. He deserved Liv's wrath so he just takes it.
“You keep insisting on doing this. Showing up long enough to piss me off and then disappearing again for however many weeks." She only bristles for a moment before she continues on. “You meet a woman looking for distraction and when she doesn’t meet your standards, you come and find me! Then, you insist on forging a friendship that should’ve died when you left! I gotta be honest. I want off of whatever this is. It’s not healthy.”
It wasn't often but she used to do this when they were partners. Blow up at him, say what she needs to say, and then regret it later so he lets it happen.
“Next thing I know you’ll be married again and it’ll be Agent Tia writing me a god-awful letter telling me how shitty of a person I am because her husband doesn’t understand boundaries. And while we’re at it—“
“Enough!” Elliot yells. “I’m not dating Tia. She wanted that,” he pauses. “But I couldn’t look at her and not think about you.”
“Spare me, Elliot,” she says, voice strong and firm.
“There’s a reason for that, Liv,” he reveals.
“Do you think that’s a compliment to me? Telling me that you were thinking about me when you’re with other women?” She pauses again to bristle and he knows that whatever is next is going to sting. “Were you also thinking of me when you were with Angela, too?” He opens his mouth to answer but Olivia isn't done. “Like I said— spare me.”
The door slams behind her, rattling the entire SUV.
And now, she’s done.
—
Elliot is leaning against her vehicle waiting for her when she walks into the garage hours later. He’d sped off once she stamped her way back into the precinct and she isn't expecting him. The Elliot she knows now would be gone and would probably be gone for a few weeks or at least until he’s assumed she’s no longer upset.
He called her phone a few times but initially, she’d been too upset to answer. It wasn't until after she settled behind her desk that she realized the bracelet was looped around her fingers. She'd stormed off and when she opened the door, she hadn't intended to grab it...
She contemplated throwing it in the trash bin beside her desk... and then she did.
Fuck Agent Tia Leonetti. It's her mantra as she typed angrily on her laptop and slipped back into work mode... It takes a full half hour for it to settle over her. Had she really said all of that? To his face?
Had she really just thrown this lady's bracelet in the goddamn garbage?
The embarrassment of it all. So then she couldn't take his calls. She couldn't explain her behavior away because she wasn’t quite sure what it meant. All she does know is that the idea of him with any woman makes her ache, Kathy included. Wife or not, she's always rolled her eyes at Kathy showing her face at the precinct.
She’s always reacted this way. Petulantly. Like a child. Usually, she hides it better. Whether it’s some pretty lady he dated during his separation, or an ex-partner (American or Italian) it hurts…
Why it hurts? She doesn’t have the bandwidth to get into it tonight, or ever really.
He must’ve known this. He must’ve known that if he really wanted to see her again or to discuss what happened earlier, he had no choice but to wait.
Elliot is smart. She had to leave eventually, right?
When he spots her at the elevators, he stalks toward her, meeting her halfway. He gives her a tight smile, one that she forces herself to return. Suddenly she’s remembering all the things he said to her as he slips her work bag off of her shoulder. It’s instant relief but she fixes her face into a frown.
He flicks a bushy brow at her as he slips the thick leather strap over his own shoulder. “Hey,” he says, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
“Hey,” Olivia sighs but starts walking again and he follows a step behind her. They’re silent as he stashes her things away in the back seat of her car. “What are you still doing here?” she asks, once he's closed the door.
He takes up the space in front of her, his broad shoulders leaning against the car parked next to hers.
Olivia crosses her arms under her chest, standing opposite him as she waits for him to speak.
“Let’s get something to eat,” he finally says.
His attempt at a truce makes her smile. “Seriously?”
He shrugs. “I'm hungry. You must be, too.”
“I could eat,” she agrees finally.
He nods. “Let’s get food and we can talk. I can apologize some more.”
Five unanswered phone calls aren't an apology. “You never apologized in the first place.”
He makes a sound. “I didn’t? Well, I meant to…” He looks around the garage and motions around them. “I just sat outside for hours. Should be apology enough.”
Her eyes narrow at him. “Well, it’s not.”
They’ve spent so much time working so closely that it’s hardly their first fight. She knows what’s coming before he even says it. "I’m sorry, Liv.”
She deflates because it really is just that easy. “Me, too. You didn’t do anything wrong,” she insists softly.
He lifts his hands. “I didn’t get to my point quick enough.”
“And I overreacted.” Their eyes meet and she sighs. “Fine,” she murmurs. “We can have leftovers. My refrigerator is full of them.”
—
They scarf down dinner quickly. Olivia eats half of hers at the counter, her laptop flipped open as she conferences with Muncy and Velasco in between bites. After she puts out one fire, she finds him seated in the accent chair, an empty plate in front of him.
“You cooked all that?” he asks.
“Be serious,” Olivia says absently. She sits on the sofa opposite him as she finishes her last few bites of turkey. “I catered,” she reveals. “Noah and I ate and watched Home Alone.”
“You had Thanksgiving catered for two people?”
“When did I have time to cook a turkey between work and Noah–”
“I was going to ask where is Noah?” he asks, standing to his feet. “Need anything from the kitchen?”
“No,” she smiles up at him. “Noah spent the day shopping… he’s not here.”
“Oh…” He nods and walks out of the room, trying not to think about the fact that they’re all alone. He quickly rinses his plate and fork, then washes his hands. He listens intently as she follows him into the kitchen and when she’s close, he asks, “So, how do you want to do this?”
“Tell me about her,” comes her voice, shakier than she wishes.
Elliot dries his hands and turns to look at her. “What do you want to know?”
“Well… all I know about her is that she’s Italian, you didn’t sleep with her and she left something in your car so you’d have to call her again.”
He chuckles. He’s always been a jealous piece of shit but Liv? “You’re worse than me.”
“Am not,” she argues as they switch places. Her back is turned to him when she continues on. “Have you spoken to her since she left?”
“Yes, but it was all work-related. She says she’s doing well.” Olivia nods but says nothing so he continues. “Liv, she came to my place and we got drunk and I told her all about you.”
All about her ? “Oh,” she hums, wondering what that means.
“Yeah. Told her all about the only woman I wanted to spend time with,” Elliot explains without having her ask. “She asked me if she had a chance with me. She wanted me to ask her to stay and I couldn’t. That’s the truth.”
“Okay,” she accepts.
“Can you admit now why you care?”
“I could but I’d rather not,” she answers with a smirk. She heads back to the living room, dropping onto the sofa where she’d been sitting before. She expects him to do the same, to return to his seat where his coat and phone are, and he does the complete opposite.
Careful to keep a respectful distance, he sits beside her, thighs spread wide but not touching her. “Can I tell you what I think happened?”
“Tell me,” she indulges.
He’s not expecting her to give in so easily so he takes a moment to take her in. She has pulled off her boots and put her gun and badge away. Sometime between dinner and him joining her on the couch, she’s twirled her hair into a clip and she’s breathtaking this way.
She looks normal with her armor off, vulnerable.
If she won’t do it, he must. “I think you were jealous…” he says, tossing it out there between them. His tone is casual and even. He adds a small smile before going on. “And that’s my fault.”
“I like the new you.” Olivia pulls her left foot under her so she can turn toward him. “The apologetic one.”
“Shut up,” he tells her, still smiling.
“I shouldn't have brought up Angela.” She bites her bottom lip and his eyes drop to her mouth. “Sorry. Keep going.”
He finds a dainty pendant hanging just above her clavicle and he focuses there as he says, “I’ve never been able to say how I feel about you and lately, it’s been hard for me to live with.”
Olivia holds her hand up. “ El —”
“I have feelings for you,” he interrupts.
“Stop,” she whispers, dark eyes pleading. “Please.”
Elliot’s grin widens. “I’d say more but I think you might hit me...”
“I will,” she confirms.
Elliot nods and her body relaxes, thinking this might be the end of their conversation. He watches as her fingers thread into her hair and for a moment, he’s jealous. He wants to touch her and be honest with her. He wasn’t lying when he said it’s been hard for him to cope with all of these guarded feelings. It’s been years of this. They’re only getting older. They both have more yesterdays than tomorrows.
If he doesn’t say it now, he might not ever get the chance.
He can’t live this way anymore. He’s admitted it to himself and needs to do the same with her.
“Liv,” he calls her name. He shifts when she turns to look at him and their gazes meet again. “I gotta say it,” he says as a warning. He’s said it to her before, but it didn’t count in the way it should’ve. He’s got to do it when it’s just them in a moment just like this. “I lov–” He’s unable to speak then because Olivia’s hand cups directly over his mouth. He finishes with a muffled, “ you .”
“Stop,” she begs softly. “Not yet.” She shakes her head when she realizes she’s just leaped across the couch and her hand is on his mouth. His stubble is scratching her palm and her legs are right up against his. “Are you done now?” she asks, eyebrow lifted.
She waits for him to nod to back off. This time when she sits, she’s much closer than she was before.
“I don’t want you to tell me you love me after I’ve thrown a tantrum over a bracelet,” she admits. “And I don’t want to do this out of fear. I want to do this because we decide it’s what we both want.”
“It’s what we’ve both wanted for a long time. Admit it.”
She acknowledges his statement with a tight nod. He accepts her answer and nods, too. “Now can we just be quiet? Do nothing and watch TV?” she requests.
If she’s not where he is, he won’t push her.
They both turn toward the television, watching in silence as the confessions of their night together settle into them both.
“So,” he says after a moment. “What is my competition looking like?”
“You mean with all the men you think I’m seeing?” Liv cracks.
Elliot chuckles. “Who is this guy from The Bronx?” he pauses a beat. “The Bronx, Liv?”
His disdain for the second-worst borough makes her laugh. “Captain Duarte and I aren’t seeing each other like that–”
“And Langan?”
“Trevor… is around,” she answers cryptically.
“The hell does that mean?”
She shrugs. “Means if I’m bored or if he needs a date, we play the part. He’s a really nice guy, El.”
He’s serious when he asks, “How long do you need to get rid of him?”
“What?” she asks.
“Are we thinking by Christmas? Or The New Year?” His brows are flat, jaw stern, eyes looking up at the ceiling like he’s recalling what he has on his calendar.
“What?”
“I have a timeline in my mind–”
“Elliot.” She reaches out to poke his side and his hand instantly goes for it. “Be serious,” she requests, ignoring the way he’s opening her fingers up to thread their hands together.
“I am being serious,” he says, giving her a soft tug.
She allows him to pull her so that her knees are right up against his thigh, her forearm resting across the hardness of his belly. “What are you doing?”
He slouches a bit, getting more comfortable. “Nothin,” he says with a smile, looking down at her. “I’m watching TV with you. It’s what you wanted, right? To do nothing?”
He knows he’s right when she begins to settle against him. She gathers her legs underneath her and tentatively rests her head on his shoulder.
Ten minutes later, he’s got her clip tossed onto the coffee table and a handful of her soft hair as he massages her scalp. She hums softly as her body slowly relaxes into his, melting into his side.
He hadn’t expected their day to go this way. Especially when she’d found the Zia Tia bracelet.
“Hey, Liv.”
“Hmm?” she asks drowsily. Her eyes are sleepy and there’s a small smile on her lips when she looks up at him. “What’s up?”
“Where did you put the bracelet?”
She edges away from him and guilt colors her pretty face. “About that…”