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Elliot Stabler didn't remember every detail of his partnership with Olivia, but he could remember most of it. He could recall the moment he first laid eyes on her, nearly sixteen years ago, as she walked into the 1-6 precinct. Her impossibly long hair, often pulled up in a ponytail or a high bun, and those captivating brown eyes that still held a hint of innocence, a youthful version of the woman that now sat behind the imponent desk at Cragen's old office.
He remembered the first time he made her laugh at some joke, the first time she cried out of frustration—and every other time she cried in front of him. He remembered their fights, their late-night stakeouts, catching perps together, conquering the streets of New York as if the whole city was theirs.
Sometimes, those memories became hazy of alcohol, especially recently.
After shutting Olivia out following Jenna's shooting, Elliot eventually found the strength to return to the SVU squadroom. He explained his state of mind to Cragen, striking a deal for desk duty until he felt ready to step back into the field. It took some time, but eventually, IAB cleared him, and he rebuilt his strength to once again become Detective Stabler. Throughout the process, Olivia stood by his side, smiling across their shared desk, offering support and encouragement. "I like Amaro, but he's not you, Elliot," she playfully teased during those first few months of what she jokingly referred to as their 2.0 Era .
After six long months, the legendary Benson-Stabler duo was back on the streets, and it felt like a breath of fresh air.
But then, it wasn't work that drove Elliot insane anymore. It was Kathy, with her constant insecurity and overwhelming jealousy. She worried about his late-night shifts and Olivia's presence as if it suffocated her.
When Lewis crashed into Olivia's apartment, Elliot was by her side, insisting to see her home safely, and he ended up spending a week sleeping on Olivia's couch to make sure that she was okay. Both cops drew their guns in perfect sync, and not a single soul in the whole tri-state area could pinpoint which gunshot killed Lewis, both bullets crossing his heart at the same time. After IAB cleared them both— again —, Elliot returned home to find all the lights out and Kathy gone.
He would never have the guts to tell Olivia that she was the reason for Kathy leaving, but as he confronted his—now—ex-wife, she cursed his partner's name as if Olivia was a home-wrecker. No matter how much he swore that nothing ever happened between them, Kathy was relentless, and their divorce got signed only a month after she left.
Unlike the first time, Elliot didn't let himself spiral into self-destruction. He didn't push Olivia or the rest of the squad away, and he managed to keep his anger in check. He moved into a cozy apartment in Manhattan, closer to the precinct, and slowly but surely, life settled into a new routine, bringing a sense of peace.
When Olivia had her sergeant ceremony, Elliot sat proudly in the front row, cheering louder than anyone else—Kathleen by his side was a solid competition, and she whistled loudly, shooting a few " You rule, Olivia " when the woman walked to the middle of the pulpit for her new badge and certificate. After the ceremony, they pulled Olivia in tight hugs, and Elliot playfully suggested that she should treat them to dinner since her new paycheck was bigger than his.
A few days later, as they wrapped up a case and Elliot helped Olivia move her belongings into her new office, she asked him hesitantly, "Are you... okay with this? Me being your boss?" She perched herself on the edge of the desk, her knee brushing against Elliot's thigh, her eyes searching his for reassurance.
Elliot teased lightly, "What are you talking about? You've been bossing me around for fourteen years now," and Olivia playfully poked his hip with her knee, her expression serious.
"No, I mean it, Elliot," she insisted, her voice filled with sincerity. He responded with one of those smiles that almost made her want to risk it all.
"Olivia, I'm proud of you, and I'm happy for you," Elliot affirmed, placing a stack of her case files on the desk. "Will I miss having my partner out there with me? Of course I will, but Amaro's not so bad, and I can still steal your spring rolls when we're here." Olivia let out a relieved chuckle, and his tone turned husky and firm. "I mean it, Liv. I really am happy for you."
Their little moment was interrupted by Fin and Rollins, who announced drinks at the bar to celebrate Olivia. They walked out of the precinct together, exchanging jokes, teasing each other, and laughing without a care in the world.
And that's when things got a bit blurry because Elliot Stabler didn't remember every detail of his relationship with Olivia, but there was one thing he was absolutely certain of—he had never slept with her. At least not sexually. He vividly recalled sharing a cab with her that night after getting too hammered, indulging in more tequila shots and beers than they had in years.
They laughed all the way to her apartment, where they shared a bottle of water and didn't think too much of it when they got into some stage of undress. Olivia took her bra from under her shirt, tossed her pants on the floor, and he kept only his underwear on—before they got under the covers and slept through the rest of the night and half of the morning.
Of course, she woke up with his hard-on pressing against her ass, his arms wrapped around her, and one of his hands holding one of her breasts as if it might escape, and the absurdity of the situation almost made her burst into laughter. Or a moan . For their own sake, she slipped out of bed before he could stir from his sleep, and when he met her in the kitchen, a few minutes later when she already had pants on and the coffee machine was running, they were embarrassed to ask each other if something had happened.
"That would be rich coming from us", Olivia joked and he chuckled, his head pounding from too much alcohol.
"Two SVU detectives who don't remember if they fucked ", Elliot groaned, catching her by surprise with his crude word, both trying hard to mask awkwardness with jokes.
"We didn't, by the way," she reassured him nearly an hour later, as he drove them to the precinct and she used the rearview mirror to apply some lipstick."There wasn't any... evidence ," she added, stumbling over her words, but he understood exactly what she meant and simply nodded in response.
They didn't discuss their morning encounter further, and fortunately, it didn't turn into a life-altering situation for their relationship. Perhaps a year earlier, when he still wore a heavy gold ring on his finger and carried more Catholic guilt than an 80-year-old priest, it would have weighed on him. But now, that morning held less significance. Or so he thought.
Just a few weeks after Olivia's promotion, Elliot received a special request from his former commanding officer in the Marines. A year-long training program in the middle of Nowhere —Texas, to be exact. It meant minimal communication with the outside world, a hellhole with barely any phone signal, right in the heart of the desert. However, it came with an astronomical paycheck and a commendation, and Elliot's skin crawled with pride at being considered for something like that.
"You should do it, El," Olivia said softly one late night in her office. Her voice was firm, yet her eyes held a trace of sadness.
"Nah, I'll miss y... miss this too much," he attempted to sound nonchalant, but Olivia knew him better than anyone.
"We'll still be here when you return, Elliot," she pointed out, a mirror of the scene from weeks previous, with her perched on the edge of the desk, her knee pressing against his hip.
This time, though, he walked closer, standing between her legs, and her breath caught in her throat. He wasn't thinking clearly when his hands landed on top of her thighs, or when his forehead pressed against her collarbone, seeking comfort in her warmth.
"I'll miss you, Liv," he confessed, and she closed her eyes, her fingers resting on the back of his head, holding him close.
"I'll still be here when you return," she whispered, her reassurance filled with a promise he understood.
They didn't kiss that night. Just held each other for too much time, his breath itching the skin of her chest, and she was almost drowning in his warmth and his perfume. Ten days later, she signed his temporary leave and spent five minutes on the phone with him, as soon as he reached his new residence for the next twelve months.
"I got fifteen minutes on the phone each week," he hurriedly explained, already sweating from the desert heat.
"So don't waste it all on me," she scolded playfully, encouraging him to call his kids. He made a joke or two about not having some pretty ass to stare at during his new assignment, and she told him to piss off, laughing together before they hung up.
So months unrolled in front of his eyes, all desert, sand, sweat and heat. And the camaraderie between his students and colleagues. It was fun, and it reminded him of his days as a Marine, but the highlight of each week was the precious five-minute phone calls with Liv, where they didn't have time at all to share meaningful bits of their lives, so they just scratched the surface, exchanging overall views of their days.
Liv was still working insane hours, the precinct was holding up, and everyone missed him. She had lunch with Kathleen the other day, Rollins and Amaro were at each other's throats as usual, and Fin remained as cool as ever. Elliot woke up before the sun, went to bed earlier than ever, did 500 push-ups a day, ran in the scorching desert with a bunch of rookies, yearned for his kids like never before, and craved football and beer with an equal passion. They always ended their phone calls with an indirect way of saying " I love you, " like "t ake care of yourself, please ," " don't get yourself shot while I'm not around ," " try not to break your neck while running, " or " have something other than pizza, Liv. " Then, they would eagerly count down the minutes until their next call.
"Something big happened, El!" she exclaimed one day, six months into his year away, and he could hear the joy in her voice. He could picture her smiling on the other end of the line, and it made him smile too.
"Will you tell me?" he asked, feeling lightheaded from the beer in his hand. It was his day off, celebrating a milestone with his rookies, and he had decided to call Liv in the middle of the night, hoping she would pick up. And she did, within seconds.
"No, I want to tell you in person. I want to see your face," she replied with a light laugh, and he couldn't recall a time when Olivia's voice sounded so soft. Not during interviews with victims or even with kids.
"That's not fair, Liv," he complained, feeling a bit dizzy, longing for her to be by his side. "I'll be curious for months."
"You'll survive," she teased, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I have to go now, El. You caught me in the middle of something." And with that, she hung up, leaving him wondering and his mind racing about what had Olivia so cheeky and busy at 3 a.m.
Naturally, he jumped to all the wrong conclusions, especially when neither of his kids nor Fin would spill the beans about what the hell was happening with Liv. "It's not my place, man. It's her life," his friend responded with his usual cool demeanor, and even Kathleen didn't give anything away.
"She'll tell you when you come back," Katie reassured him, laughing through the phone. He could envision a six-foot-tall man, Trevor Langan style, looming in Olivia's life, introduced as her boyfriend.
"Are you dating someone?" he finally asked a few weeks later, his voice strained with effort to sound chill, and she scoffed.
"You're in the middle of nowhere and still worrying about my dating life?"
"I'm just making conversation," he tried to defend himself, and she responded with a teasing hmm . "So, are you?" Elliot insisted, trying not to sound too pushy.
"I'm a free woman, Elliot. I could be dating someone," she teased, knowing exactly how to get under his skin. And he took the bait, despite knowing she was teasing.
"I don't like it when you date," he declared, possessiveness seeping into his tone, and this time she burst into laughter.
"And you think I don't know that?"
"You're deflecting my question, Sergeant" he persisted, needing an answer from her. He couldn't imagine sleeping without knowing.
"Stop asking dumb questions and just come home, " Olivia demanded, emphasizing each of the words with a short pause, and he glanced at the calendar on his wall. Three months left.
When he received his commendation, shook hands with his CO, and bid farewell to his cadets in the desert, it was already summer. He hopped on the first plane back to New York, eager to ditch his sweaty clothes, spend some of his hard-earned money, and finally — finally —take Olivia on a date. Of course, that last part depended on her being single and open to the idea of actually dating him. It was a long shot, but the desert had made him bolder. If he could endure the endless heat and all the discomfort that came with it, he could handle the possibility of dating his best friend— and boss .
As his plane touched down, Kathleen was waiting for him at the airport, holding a ridiculous " Welcome home, Dad " sign with an excessive amount of glitter, as if it were made by a six-year-old. He chuckled before pulling her into a hug. She was the only one who knew he was coming back to the city because, of course, he wanted to freshen up before seeing everyone.
"So, should I drive you to your apartment or to Olivia's?" she asked with a teasing smile, barely containing a smile, and he feigned innocence. "Come on, Dad, we all know something's going on."
"We?" he echoed, raising an eyebrow. "We, as in you and your sister and Dickie?"
"Yeah, and Eli too," Katie confirmed, starting the car.
"He's six!" Elliot exclaimed, struggling to hold back his laughter.
"And he likes Olivia!" she shot back. It wasn't surprising that all of his kids liked Olivia—hell, Kathleen adored her!—but he had no idea when Eli became attached to Liv. "Mom still not a fan of Liv, but she lets me take Eli with me sometimes when I visit her," Katie clarified, but he was still lost.
"Since when do you sometimes visit Olivia ?" he asked, confusion evident on his face, and Katie simply laughed.
"Oh, you two really need to talk," she said, swiftly changing the subject, deliberately steering away from Olivia, which only fueled his curiosity.
It took him a couple of hours to settle back into his apartment. He showered, shaved, applied aftershave, and spritzed an expensive perfume he had bought at the Duty Free shop at the airport onto his neck. He then slipped into a nice pair of dark blue jeans and a comfortable henley that perfectly hugged his newly acquired muscles. He wanted to look his best when he saw her after a year, and it took every ounce of self-restraint not to buy a single red rose from the flower shop on the corner of her street.
Her doorman raised an eyebrow upon seeing him after so long, and Elliot shot the man a smile, asking if she was home, and then muttering something about wanting to surprise her.
"Yeah, she just arrived with Noah," the man answered with a smile, causing Elliot's stomach to churn.
Noah . So, he wasn't mistaken. She did have someone in her life. For a whole minute, he stared at the elevator doors, contemplating whether to turn around and leave, buying himself more time before facing the inevitable reality that Olivia had moved on. He almost laughed because, apart from a drunken cuddle and an empty promise in her office, they had nothing to move on from. They were never anything more than partners.
Except they were everything, and as he ascended to her floor, he could barely catch his breath. He would see Olivia after a whole year and, at the same time, meet Noah, whoever that might be.
In his mind, he pictured a blond-haired, rich prick because there was no way a working-class, 40-something-year-old man would be named Noah. For a split second, his brain short-circuited with the idea of Olivia dating a younger man. Hell, his brain had been going crazy for weeks now, obsessing over the mere possibility of other men in Olivia's life.
When he reached her floor, his feet felt like they weighed a ton. He dragged himself to her door and rapped his knuckles against it, producing a familiar beat that she would recognize instantly. Her voice rang out from behind the door, slightly muffled by the walls between them.
"Use your keys, I'm in the shower," she called out. He obeyed, fishing her keys out of his pocket and unlocking the door to the apartment they had chosen together after the whole Lewis fiasco.
He was all too familiar with her home, having spent a few nights on her couch, drinking beer, talking shit, and watching TV. But this time, he double-checked the number on the door because it felt like stepping into another universe. Instead of the almost vacant living room, with just a couch and the perpetually turned-on television, a few bottles of wine on her kitchen counter, an empty pizza box, and Olivia's usual mess, the apartment now looked like a daycare had exploded.
Toys were scattered around a soft mat in the middle of the room, a baby playpen stood nearby, and a mountain of baby clothes sat in a corner of the couch, waiting to be folded. On top of the kitchen counter, there was a giant plastic bowl, and as he approached, he could see that it contained boiling water with plastic toys submerged in it. Next to it was a slightly smaller bowl, also with boiling water, where pacifiers and bottle nipples were also being sterilized.
"Oh, good, you found my nipples," Olivia's voice came teasingly from behind him as he stared dumbfounded at the bowl. When he turned to face her, she was still the Olivia he had left a year ago, with longer hair, a tired expression, and a smile bigger than the world on her face.
"What the hell, Liv?" he asked, caught between shock and amusement, and she kept smiling as she walked right into him, pulling him into a hug.
"That's the big thing that happened," she said softly, hugging him tight. He had too many questions to ask, starting with " How ?" and " Who ?", but he missed her so much that, when she had her arms around him, her whole body pressed against his, fresh out of the shower with her citric soap making her skin look delicious enough to lick, he could wait a few more minutes before getting answers. "You should've told me you were coming back. I would've picked you up," she chastised, her voice warm and gentle. They were so impossibly close that he could feel the rumble of her voice coming onto his chest.
"I wanted to surprise you," he answered, and she pulled back lightly, his hand falling to her hip while hers found his shoulders. "But I guess you surprised me first," Elliot joked, and she let out a chuckle, her eyes glinting. God, she was radiant with happiness, and he had never seen her like that before.
"I guess so," she shrugged, walking away from him and into the kitchen. "Want a beer?" she offered, opening the fridge. He took a glimpse inside and found it filled with actual food.
" God , you have food in your fridge!" Elliot exclaimed, truly surprised, and she rolled her eyes before reaching under the sink cabinet to retrieve a bottle of wine. She put a beer in front of him and poured a glass of red wine for herself, making Elliot wonder if she wasn't breastfeeding anymore.
"So, how was the desert?" Olivia asked, clinking her glass with his beer, and he rolled his eyes.
"Liv, I don't want to talk about the desert. I want to talk about all of this," he said, unable to hide his curiosity and confusion. He swallowed his own jealousy back, knowing that some lucky son of a bitch had cut in line and beat him to everything he ever wanted for himself: Olivia Benson, impossibly happy and with a baby. God help him, his mind filled with images of her pregnant, making him hard and guilty.
"I got Noah, Elliot," she simply said, as if it explained it all. "Noah Porter Benson," she announced proudly, wrinkling her nose and almost closing her eyes with the size of her smile. Porter ?
"How, Liv? I thought..." you hated the guy , he started to say, but she interrupted him.
"Yeah, me too, but then Langan helped, can you believe that? And it all happened so fast that I can't even believe how lucky I got, but Noah is perfect!" she kept going, and his mind raced to catch up. She just said Porter, and then Langan helped ? "I fell in love with him as soon as I saw him. I can't function these days because all I want to do is look at him. He's amazing, and he's so beautiful." She was rambling, and his heart was pounding loudly on his ears.
Elliot was conflicted between bathing himself in the warm glow coming from Olivia or completely melting down into a pool in the middle of her living room, with jealousy and confusion pumping through his veins. For a second, his mind shut down. He knew she was still talking, gesticulating, and probably explaining how Noah came to be, but all he heard was a loud buzz in his ears, the names Dean Porter and Trevor Langan dancing in his mind as he tried to rationalize what Olivia said.
Maybe Dean Porter was the registered father, but Langan was the biological father? Did Olivia get pregnant through IVF with Langan's donation, and then Porter stepped up? He was sure she was explaining all of that, that her lips were moving fast to retell him the story of her child, and it must have been a hell of a story since she was still talking, but he was completely offline, losing the battle for his concentration.
"El, move your ass," Olivia urged him, snapping her fingers in front of his eyes, and she chuckled at his confused expression. "I know it's a lot, but everything's okay now, and Noah and I are Team Benson, so it's the two of us against the world," she added, moving out of the kitchen, and then his stomach churned again.
So Porter and Langan, both possible fathers of her child, were out of the picture?
"What? You're taking care of him alone?" he dumbly asked, and she looked at him like he had grown a second head.
"Are you deaf, El?" Olivia laughed at his face. "And it's not like I don't have an amazing sitter, and everyone is around all the time, so I have a good support system," she shrugged her shoulders, putting more distance between them. "Come on, Elliot, move," she urged him, and he wasn't fully registering her words.
He moved at her command and followed her out of the living room into the hallway, which split into her bedroom, the bathroom, and the second room that was empty when he left a year ago. Now, it was decorated with animal-painted walls, light yellow drapes on the window, and a cooing baby inside what seemed to be a soft crib.
"Hello, my sweet boy," Olivia cheered, her voice laced with honey, and Elliot's heart constricted, his chest filled to the brim with the amount of love he felt for Olivia. He had always wanted to see her as a mom. "We have a special guest, baby," she continued, her baby voice sounding too good to Elliot's ears. She bent her body over the crib rail, fishing her son out of it. As soon as he laid eyes on Noah, his whole body went cold, and his legs almost gave out on him.
That's because Noah looked just like Eli, just like Richard before him, and just like himself, with his light brown curly hair, chubby cheeks, and those impossibly blue eyes. It was like looking into a retrograde mirror, and his mind raced with calculations, trying to piece together the memories of that specific night when he got hammered with Olivia, the timeline fitting perfectly.
"Elliot, this is Noah," she introduced, her eyes sparkling, and her smile the largest he had ever seen. He shut down every question and doubt as his heart built a whole new room, fully furnished and ready for Noah to inhabit. He suddenly understood exactly what Olivia meant when she said she fell in love with the little boy at first sight. "El, this is my son," she added, walking to his side and passing the baby to his arms without a second thought.
It was like experiencing the joy of his five kids all over again. The same thrill, his heart hammering against his rib cage, his breath stolen out of his chest as Noah watched him carefully with those piercing blue eyes, before breaking into a toothless grin and touching his face with chubby hands.
"You're the cutest baby I've ever seen," Elliot confided in a sweet baby voice, and Olivia playfully slapped him on the arm. "Don't let my other kids hear that," he joked, and neither he nor Olivia registered the deeper meaning of his words, both too caught up in Noah's sweet face.
For the time being, Elliot decided not to press Olivia about Noah's paternity. His mind raced in multiple directions at first, trying to make sense of the little baby's existence. But as soon as he laid eyes on that adorable, chubby, and pink-cheeked face, he settled a bit. There was only one possible explanation that made sense to him—they had slept together and didn't remember. Either Olivia was convinced it never happened, or she didn't recall it clearly, just like him. Or perhaps, worst of all, she knew Noah was his but chose to ignore it, convincing herself that Dean Porter was the father.
Dean Porter, with his dark eyes, thick hair, and tanned skin, couldn't possibly be the father of a cherubin like Noah, Elliot thought with a certain disdain while blowing raspberries on Noah's belly. They had spent hours together, and the clock was ticking past 10 PM, but he didn't want to leave. He longed to stay there, watching Olivia interact with her son—their son, he corrected himself—and to be there for both of them. He didn't want to leave, yearning to be with them every day and every night. With all the overwhelming emotions, he almost forgot his original intentions for coming to Olivia's place that night.
"Now it's your turn," Olivia goaded him, her voice barely a whisper as Noah settled against her chest, his ear over her heart and his little hand holding a lock of her hair. Noah was almost asleep, his eyes heavy, soothed by the gentle vibrations of his mom's chest when she spoke. "Tell me about your year," she asked, and Elliot scoffed.
"All we did was run, crawl, shoot, and lift weights," he downplayed it, as if it were easy, not one to complain or show off. The desert wasn't easy, but it wasn't hell either. Sure, it got repetitive day after day, but he hadn't seen a corpse or heard the word 'rape' in a year, so it wasn't all that bad.
"Yeah, I can see that," she mumbled under her breath, unintentionally letting her thoughts slip out. Elliot raised an eyebrow, a shit-eating grin spread on his face.
"What's that?" he teased, his right arm stretched out against the back of the couch, his fingertip tantalizingly close to the back of Olivia's neck, playfully tickling her.
"Stop!" she chuckled, instinctively pulling away from his tickles. He complied because Noah made a displeased sound at her sudden movement. "I just said... that you clearly... worked out," she stammered a bit, trying to sound nonchalant, but Elliot puffed his chest like a peacock, and she rolled her eyes.
"Yeah, I've been hitting the gym," he mimicked her tone. If it weren't for Noah being so comfortable against her chest, she would have thrown a cushion at Elliot.
Of course, he had been hitting the gym, with his broad shoulders and muscular arms more pronounced than ever. Olivia was willing to bet money that he would be all firm planes and scorching heat if she touched him.
"Lucky you. With all of this, work, and babysitting Amaro and Amanda, I can barely sleep," she commented, her hand making a small gesture to encompass everything she mentioned. Elliot sensed her slightly self-deprecating comment from a mile away.
"There's nothing wrong with your body, Liv," he pointed out a little too quickly, and she shot him an amused look.
"Well, thank you, Detective," she replied, a small blush creeping up her neck, and he noticed it, of course he did, but decided against calling attention to it.
"You're welcome, Sergeant," he said, looking at her intently, and he saw the exact moment when she caught her bottom lip between her teeth, holding back a smile.
"So, that's another thing I need to share with you," Olivia began, a sense of pride evident in her face and eyes. "I took the Lieutenant's exam," she announced, and a broad grin spread across Elliot's face.
"So congratulations are in order, Lieutenant?" he asked, his hands itching to touch her.
"Not yet, but the word is that I'm getting the promotion," she said, sounding absolutely proud this time.
"I'm so happy for you, Liv," he said, carefully rubbing the spot behind her neck with just a light touch. She smiled at him, and he had to shift his gaze to Noah because his face was getting too warm under Olivia Benson's gaze and smile. "Do you want help putting him to bed or cleaning everything up?" he offered, knowing her initial instinct would be to refuse help, as she wasn't one to accept it easily. But she took a deep breath before answering.
"You can put him in his crib, and I'll clean up the dishes," she said, and he jumped at the opportunity, carefully picking up the now sleeping baby and cradling him against his chest.
He knew he should just put the baby in his crib and return to the kitchen, where he could listen to the sound of running water as Olivia cleaned up the dishes from their takeout dinner. But he couldn't bring himself to let go of Noah. He held the baby close, securing him against his chest, and gently swayed from side to side, creating a soothing rhythm that lulled the baby even deeper into sleep. He didn't want to stop cradling Noah, feeling an overwhelming love for the baby he had just met. He was fully convinced that he and Olivia had created this incredible little creature together—a perfect combination of Olivia's dark hair and his own blue eyes, with a smile that resembled a mix of Eli's and Dickie's.
"You can put him down, El. He won't wake up for a few hours," Olivia gently encouraged, leaning against the doorframe, misunderstanding his hesitation to let go of Noah for fear of waking him. He simply nodded, choosing not to reveal his true reason, and slowly lowered the baby onto the mattress, reluctantly separating himself from the little bundle.
"He's really beautiful, Liv," he praised, feeling her warmth against his back as she leaned in, her chin resting on his shoulder as they looked into the crib. Noah rolled onto his side, sucking his thumb, and Elliot couldn't help but smile.
"Sometimes I can't believe he's real," she confessed, her eyes welling up with tears. Elliot wrapped one arm around her back, pulling her into a side hug. She rested her head against his shoulder, and he planted a quick kiss on top of her head, grateful that she allowed him to hold her.
"You did it, Liv," Elliot said. We did it, he thought to himself. He was tempted to ask her bluntly if Noah was his, but right now, he had just returned after a year, and he didn't want to risk losing this easy comfort that Olivia was offering.
"El, I'm not kicking you out. You can stay if you want, but I really need to sleep," she whispered after a few minutes of him basically rocking her to sleep, both of them still standing in the middle of Noah's bedroom. Once again, he kissed her temple.
"I'll go home. My place needs some fixing, and I have a mountain of laundry to do," he replied, forcing himself to peel away from her side, feeling a physical ache at leaving her warmth after months of yearning for it.
"When are you coming back to the precinct?" Olivia asked, walking beside him toward the exit.
"As soon as my sergeant signs my reinstatement," he shrugged, turning to look back at her as she opened the door for him.
"So I'll see you tomorrow, Detective," she stated, and he nodded, feeling relieved that she wanted him back at the 1-6 as soon as possible. "I really missed you, El," she confessed, her brown eyes slightly hooded by sleep, and her smile was so soft that he wished he could frame it.
"I really missed you, Liv," he replied, not daring to push his luck by hugging her again. Instead, he shoved his hands deep into his pants pockets and made his way to the elevators at the end of the hallway.
"So, you met the little guy?" Fin asked a few days later when Olivia paired them up to pay a visit to a suspect, hoping to grill the guy and maybe get some new evidence for what seemed like a dead-end case.
For the past week or something, Elliot could barely function properly. His mind was consumed by thoughts of Noah and how he could confront Olivia about it. How do you just walk up to someone and ask if you're the father of their child? Sometimes, he felt a surge of anger bubbling beneath his cool facade – his attempt at being a better man. He came dangerously close to causing a scene in the middle of the precinct when Trevor Langan dropped by, just two days after Elliot returned.
Langan, with his expensive suits, perfectly groomed hair and beard, and that damn friendly smile, strolled into the squad room with his briefcase in one hand and a gift in the other. He greeted the team, completely ignoring Elliot's presence, and made a beeline for Olivia's office as if he belonged there. Elliot couldn't tear his eyes away from the office window.
He watched as Olivia's smile lit up when the tall man knocked on her door and closed it behind him when she gestured for him to come in. For a few minutes, Langan just sat in one of the chairs in front of her desk while she was stuck on a phone call, and Elliot clenched his fists when he saw her absentmindedly take off her glasses and run a hand through her hair, looking a bit exasperated. It was a simple gesture, but he knew the effect it had on any man around, himself included. He was ready to throw punches when he noticed Trevor adjusting his posture, straightening his back.
When Olivia hung up the phone, she smiled and probably mumbled an excuse. Elliot couldn't stop staring, his gaze locked on the scene, as if witnessing a car crash and unable to look away from the wreckage. He saw Langan slide the gift across her desk, and Olivia's face light up with interest and curiosity as she tore the wrapping paper. For a brief moment, he wished the door was open, or at least ajar enough for him to hear her laughter. And he wished his vision was slightly better, so he could read what was written on the box.
For nearly ten minutes, the two of them talked, and Olivia seemed fully engaged in the conversation. Her brows furrowed, and Elliot imagined all sorts of possible dialogues running through their discussion. Maybe they were discussing Noah's schedule, preschool, doctor's appointments, or anything that two parents would talk about. He couldn't help but feel torn about who he despised more for possibly being the official and registered father of Noah.
"Yeah, I met him," Elliot answered, sipping his coffee with intensity, his gaze fixed on the dark door of the brownstone they were watching.
"I gotta say, man, I've never seen Liv so happy," Fin remarked, pointing out the obvious, and Elliot grumbled in response, his curiosity reaching its boiling point. He knew Fin would have all the answers he needed.
"So, Liv and Langan, huh?" his jealousy seeped through his words, unable to ask a direct question, and Fin let out a light chuckle.
"Nah, man. I don't think Liv likes him that", the man answered, torn between messing up with Elliot or soothing his anxiety. "He just been around for Noah. I don't think Liv could've done without him", he chose option number two, but seemingly stressed Elliot even more.
"But you think he likes her?" Elliot found himself sounding like a gossiping schoolgirl, caught up in discussing a crush, and it felt silly, but he couldn't help himself.
"I don' think he's completely innocent about it, but y' know the effect Liv has. Me, Cragen, Munch, and Carisi are probably the only men in the city who didn't fell for it a bit," Fin teased, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel, opening up a whole new realm of stress in Elliot's mind. Now he would be stressing not only about Trevor Langan, or Dean Porter, but the whole New York City.
"What?" Elliot replied, dumbfounded, his expression crumbling as he tried to reason it out. "Amaro and Barba..." he began, but Fin cut him off.
"They don't stand a chance. But if Liv snaps her fingers, they'll come running," Fin continued to tease, and just seconds before spotting their suspect, he added, "Just like you, man."
"I'm heading out for a bit. Do you need anything?" Olivia asked, passing by his desk after 4 o'clock on a regular Tuesday. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she had swapped her tall boots for simple white Converse. Her face looked fresh, with a light layer of makeup, and he was certain she had sprayed on a coat of perfume, her delicious scent enveloping him.
"Late lunch date?" Elliot couldn't help himself and shot back, his words laced with what he hoped was a playful jealousy and not the full force of his possessive feel. She bit her lip, ready to tease him.
"Yeah, with my best guy," she replied, holding back a grin as his eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "Wanna come with me?" Olivia continued, readjusting her bag on the curve of her elbow.
"I don't think your best guy would appreciate my intrusion," he replied, his irony dripping, and she rolled her eyes, amused by his jealousy.
"I don't think Noah would be too bothered by your presence, unless you steal his pacifier," she emphasized her son's name, her mouth forming a perfect "O" as she pronounced it, and Elliot felt his face burn with embarrassment. Of course, she was going out to see Noah. "Come on, Elliot, he's at a playdate in the park with Lucy and a few kids, and I really want to see him awake for a bit," she urged him, and Elliot quickly scrambled to his feet, grabbing his blazer from the back of his chair.
The drive to the park was surprisingly quick as Olivia bent a few rules and turned on the lights. With their current high-profile case, she knew she would likely be spending the whole night at her desk, caught up in phone calls or, God forbid, long hours of interrogation, and was determined to spend more than just five minutes with her son.
"Hey, want some popcorn?" Elliot offered as soon as they reached the playpen at the park. Olivia spotted Noah in one of the grassy areas, surrounded by wooden toys and closely watched by his nanny.
"Sweet popcorn, please," she answered, already fishing for change in her pocket, but he declined.
"Go to Noah, and I'll get us snacks," he insisted, and she mumbled a thanks before crossing the space to reach her son. Immediately, Noah lit up with the biggest smile in the world, reaching out his hands for Olivia until she swooped him up, showering him with kisses on his cheeks and melting by his sweet scent.
"Oh, Mommy missed you so much, my sweet boy," Olivia squeaked, using her best imitation of a baby voice. Noah smacked both of his hands against her cheeks, smothering her with his face while laughing joyfully. "Did you miss Mommy too?" she laughed as he pressed his little face against hers, their noses touching. Fireworks exploded in her chest because she was certain she would never get used to this overwhelming love and devotion she felt for her son, and the fierce way he showed it back, in his adorable, innocent, and yet not fully comprehending way.
"So, you're Noah's mom," a familiar voice chimed in from her side, and Olivia turned her entire body to face Kathy Stabler, who stood right in front of her after almost two years without seeing each other.
"Kathy, hi!" Olivia greeted with an unwavering smile, addressing Kathy in the same kind and friendly tone as ever. "Is Eli here?" she asked, her eyes scanning the playground until she spotted the familiar face of six-year-old Eli Stabler sliding down the slide.
"I knew he looked familiar somehow, but I'm really surprised Elliot didn't say anything," Kathy remarked, looking at Noah. Olivia innocently shook her head, so engrossed with her child that she didn't catch the suggestion in Kathy's voice.
"Oh no, Elliot only found out about him a few weeks ago when he came back to New York," she simply explained, unknowingly making a fool of herself.
"You didn't tell him for a whole year?" Kathy seemed shocked, her jaw slightly agape, and Olivia shrugged lightly.
"Well, with so much happening back then, I thought he should focus on the job," she justified truthfully. Olivia knew that if Elliot, in the middle of nowhere, heard that she was dealing with the foster system and a dangerous sex trafficker while taking care of a little boy and keeping SVU going, he would have been on the next flight home, ready to pick up her slack.
"He's a good father, Olivia," Kathy deadpanned, and Olivia's face fell, her smile turning into a frown. "Well, especially if you're the mother." There was a hint of malice in Kathy's voice that made Olivia's stomach churn and a sour taste invade her mouth.
"What?" It was all she could say, her brain racing to catch up with what Kathy had said, and she hated when words failed her.
"DAAAAAD!" Eli's loud scream interrupted the interaction between the two women as Elliot came into sight, and the young boy raced straight to his father's legs, hugging him tightly.
"Hey, lil' man," Elliot greeted, his hands busy with popcorn. He knelt down so his son could cling onto him like a koala bear, arms and legs trapping him against his body until they reached Olivia. He could barely breathe, not from the effort or his son's death grip on his neck, but from Kathy's presence right beside Olivia, who had a look on her face as if she had just seen a ghost.
"Dad, Liv's here!" Eli pointed innocently, reaching out to kiss Olivia's cheek. She greeted him with a soft " hi, honey " and a strained smile, her whole body tense.
"I believe congratulations are in order," Kathy mocked, her eyes shooting back and forth between Elliot and Olivia, both speechless but for different reasons. Elliot was stunned, believing that his ex-wife had just caught him in the park with his new baby without any prior notice. Olivia, on the other hand, was completely shaken by Kathy's implications, at a loss for words on how to clean up this mess. "I've always knew you two would end up pulling some shit like that, but I've thought you would wait enough time for the ink to dry, or at least give me the courtesy of telling me," she continued, staring Elliot right in the eye, and he could crumble under her stare, ashamed because— to him —she was completely right.
"Kathy, that's not..." Olivia tried to interject, her left hand gripping Noah tightly against her chest. She was so embarrassed by Kathy's accusation that her face turned a deep shade of red.
"Save it, Olivia. I don't want to hear it," Kathy cut her off, sounding hurt. She reached out for Eli, encouraging him to say his goodbyes to his father. "You can pick him up on Saturday for some bonding time with his baby brother." Sarcasm dripped from her voice once again, and as Kathy walked away from them, both Elliot and Olivia couldn't look each other in the eye.
The drive back to the precinct was anything but peaceful. The deafening silence between them masked the internal turmoil they both felt, and Olivia's death grip on the steering wheel made it clear to Elliot that she didn't want to discuss it right now. And that was fine by him.
It was fine because he was ready to confront her too, torn between anger and resentment, now painfully aware that Olivia knew the truth of Noah's paternity, and had chosen to keep him in the dark. And he hated how it made him feel like a scumbag for not having an honest conversation with the woman who had been his wife for almost 30 years.
It was fine because Olivia was too embarrassed by Kathy's words, ashamed of being accused of going behind her back. The thought of being labeled " the other woman " or a " mistress " under Kathy's judgment made her skin crawl. She couldn't deny that she had entertained the idea at times during their years of partnership and closeness, but they had never crossed that line, not even when he signed the divorce papers for the first time. Olivia had always respected Elliot's marriage too much, always going out of her way to ensure his family was okay, his kids were safe, and his wife was content enough not to leave in the middle of the fucking night with their baby. And now, Kathy Stabler had accused her of doing exactly what she had never dared to do.
"Olivia..." Elliot tried to speak as soon as they dropped Lucy and Noah off at Olivia's building, but she cut him off.
"Not now, Elliot," she said, her voice sounding defeated. She needed time to process what had happened at the park. They couldn't just dive into a conversation right away.
The rest of the evening turned into an overnight shift as their suspect stalled, demanding a lawyer who took hours to arrive at the precinct. It was well past 3 a.m. when Olivia finally sat down on her office couch, with the blinds shut and aching for a few minutes of sleep. But as luck would have it, a knock on her door was followed by Elliot's voice and his heavy footsteps entering her office. She heard the soft click of the door closing and the sound of his shoes being kicked off before he lay down on the floor next to her couch. A grunt escaped his chest, and she pictured him with an arm draped over his face, covering his eyes.
"Long day, huh?" he broke the silence, and she let out an exhausted groan in response.
"And it's not over yet," she mumbled, sensing that he wanted to talk. She had avoided it all day, but now they were alone, the precinct was relatively calm, and she had had enough time to think about what to say to him.
She propped herself up, bending her legs at the knees, and walked past him, crossing her office until she perched on the edge of her desk—a familiar position for their serious conversations these days. With another grunt, Elliot sat up and moved to the couch, resting his elbows on his thighs and his chin in his hands. He looked worn out, but Olivia felt the same way, and it was better to talk now than to drag the subject into the new day, which was only a few hours away.
"Elliot, I'm sorry," Olivia began, and he pursed his lips, nodding slightly. "I didn't know Kathy would be there, and I'm sorry for how it made you look... You don't deserve that, and if you want, I can talk to her to clear things up..."
"When were you going to tell me?" he interrupted, his voice tinged with accusation. He wasn't interested in her apologies about Kathy and the incident at the park. He was hurt because Olivia had kept him in the dark, hiding the truth about their child.
"Tell you what, Elliot?" Olivia asked, confused and immediately becoming defensive. She hated it when he used that tone with her—the low, accusing tone that masked his eyes with anger.
"That Noah is mine," he snapped back, as if it were obvious, and he sounded so hurt that Olivia almost felt sorry for him. Almost . After a moment of shock, she burst into laughter, a deep belly laugh, tears welling up in her eyes as her body shook with amusement. This only made him feral, and he stood up, pacing.
"You think that's funny, Olivia?" he asked, hurt and anger lacing his words. She continued laughing as if he had just told her the funniest joke in the world.
"I think it's hilarious, Elliot," she managed to reply between chuckles, tears streaming down her cheeks. She hadn't laughed like this in years, unable to believe the absurdity of it all. "Elliot, are you having a stroke or did you hit your head? How could Noah be your son?" she asked, spelling it out slowly, and it was his turn to laugh, though his was laced with irony and a touch of malice.
"Oh, I don't know! Maybe that night when you said nothing happened, but I woke up half-naked and hard in your bed," Elliot snapped, walking up to her until he was once again standing between her legs—just like a year ago—his face so close that their eyes almost crossed, allowing them to continue their intense stare-down.
At the memory of it, Olivia let out a frustrated sigh, mixed with a growl. She clearly remembered that night, she ached for it too many times, dying to feel him again like that, and in so many other ways, but still…
"Nothing happened, Elliot!" she insisted, locking eyes with him. He scoffed, putting some distance between them.
"You're unbelievable, Olivia!" he accused, and she chuckled again, not even mad at his assumptions or reactions. At the very least, she felt a little embarrassed for finding his outburst so amusing.
"Oh God, Elliot, you're so dense, and I'm realizing now that you don't pay any attention to what I say," Olivia accused playfully, shaking her head. "Elliot, I told you the night you came back! Noah is adopted," she reiterated, slowly, as if explaining it to a four-year-old. Elliot stopped pacing, his face falling as the realization sank in.
"Noah's adopted?" he repeated after her, and she nodded slowly, finding his dumbfounded expression utterly endearing. God, she wanted to kiss that silly face of his!
"Yes, Elliot, I told you the whole story on the night you met him!" she insisted, and his mouth opened and closed a few times, resembling a fish. He was searching for words, but could only mutter a few incoherently.
"But you said Porter, and then Langan helped... And I thought..." he tried to explain, now feeling like the most foolish man on the planet, and she couldn't help but chuckle. Goodness, he should consider a career change because she had never seen Olivia laugh so much.
"Oh, Elliot. You thought that within the span of a year, I had some sort of romantic involvement with Dean Porter and Trevor Langan? A relationship serious enough for me to have a baby with one of them?" Olivia shot back, shaking her head, and he had to sit down again, burying his face in his hands, too embarrassed to even attempt to explain how he had jumped to so many conclusions. "Noah's mom is Ellie Porter, a poor girl who was tragically killed, and his father is a piece of shit who's rotting in hell."
"Liv, I am so, so sorry!" he managed to say after a few seconds of silence, and she wasn't even the slightest bit angry, but he still felt the need to apologize. "I'm an idiot, and I made all the wrong assumptions, and then I thought he might be mine because of his eyes, and he looks so much like Dickie when he was a baby, and then I just felt sad because I thought you were deliberately keeping him away from me..."
"I'm not keeping him away from you!" she replied, now sounding a tad offended, and he raised his hands in surrender.
"Not physically, but I thought you had decided that you didn't want me to be his father, so you chose someone else..." he continued, his voice almost a whisper, too awkward to articulate properly. "And now I realize that you were actually telling me all about his adoption that night, but my brain shut down, and I didn't listen to a word you said, and I am so sorry, Liv."
"Elliot Stabler, you're unbelievable," she shook her head once more, as if scolding a child, and took a deep breath before surprising him with the last sentence he ever expected to hear from her. "That's why you still haven't asked me out?"
"What?" This time, he was the one caught off guard, the tables suddenly turned. She shrugged her shoulders, her eyes appearing guarded, anticipating possible rejection.
"I told you before you left that I would still be here when you came back, and I thought I made myself pretty clear, but you've been back for over a month now, and I thought you weren't interested at all..." she trailed off, her insecurity palpable, and in an instant, Elliot was once again between her parted knees, his warmth enveloping her.
"At the risk of sounding like a broken record, Liv, but I'm a dumb man," he breathed softly, his hands coming to rest on top of her thighs, and Olivia felt her breath hitch, already yearning for more of his touch. "I've been meaning to ask you out since the day I left for boot camp, and when I came back, that was all I could think about, but I thought with Noah and everything else, it might be too soon."
"Too soon?" she joked, as he rested his forehead against her collarbone, and she had to summon every ounce of self-control not to close her eyes. "Elliot, this has been a long time coming," she whispered, her voice carrying a sultry tone, and her hands found their way to the nape of his neck. He let out a low growl, his hands putting more pressure on her thighs, and Olivia couldn't help but close her eyes when his breath tickled the exposed skin of her cleavage.
"Olivia, can I take you out to dinner this Friday?" Elliot asked, his voice resonating through her as his lips brushed against the side of her neck, and she almost let out a moan, starved for Elliot's touch.
"Yes," she granted, her mind too hazy to form any other response, and she bit her tongue as he slid his hands further up her thighs, reaching her hips and firmly splaying them on her back, pulling her into a tight embrace.
"Sorry I was so stupid, Liv," he whispered against her collarbone, and she shook her head slowly. "I think I wanted so badly to be Noah's father that I wasn't thinking straight. I wanted to be there for him and for you..." He felt her soft chuckle against his body and resisted the urge to kiss her skin.
"You can still be there for both of us," Olivia offered, her fingertips gently caressing the back of his head. "And his birth certificate has an empty ' Adoptive Father ' field," she added, teasingly, but he hummed contentedly against her, warmth spreading throughout his body at the thought.
"Mmm, I'd love that," Elliot sang on her chest, and she could feel his broad smile against her skin. In that moment, Olivia almost cried at the realization that this magnificent man was willing, even excited, at the idea of adopting and raising a son with her. "Noah Porter Benson-Stabler. Sounds just right to me," he hummed, satisfied.
Sensing that he had no intention of ending their embrace any time soon, Olivia leaned into the contact, her legs wrapping around his hips, and her head falling onto his, allowing herself to steal a few moments in the middle of the night, perched on her desk, to be completely enveloped by the wonderfully foolish, lovely, handsome, and incredible man she had called her partner for so many years. Benson-Stabler , hyphenated, she thought to herself, and right then and there, she agreed that it most definitely sounded right.