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Olivia stepped off the elevator, phone in one hand and steaming hot coffee in the other. "Noah's still away on camp, so I thought I'd catch a movie that wasn't produced by Nickelodeon or Disney."
"Why don't you come over here tonight? I have adult movies and wine and a freshly painted wall."
Olivia smiled at the mental image of Elliot in well-worn yet slightly-too-tight painter's overalls (that appeared way too readily her mind). "I really hope you don't mean capital 'A' adult movies, Elliot." Oliva walked past the bullpen towards her office.
Upon seeing a bright smile overcome their Captain's face so readily, Velasco and Muncy turned to each other with matching looks of scandalous curiosity. Before either of them could comment (and there were a few comments to be made), Fin chucked a rolled up copy of The Ledger at their heads.
"Don't even think about it." They both pouted at him, especially Muncy but Fin wasn't buying it. "Get your asses out of here and down to Mercy. They caught a possible DV case overnight. And they sure as hell could use more sensitivity than what was in what you were about to say." He motioned towards the front page, where a grainy photo of a stretcher halfway out of the back of an ambulance was titled MINISTER'S WIFE IN SINISTER STRIFE in bold red lettering.
"No I confiscated all of them from Eli months ago. Promise."
Olivia rolled her eyes, smile still firmly set on her face. "Wow, such good parenting, El." She pushed the door open to her office. "Well, I can't give you a firm time but I'll try and get over there for, say, eight?"
"Deal. See you then, Liv."
Olivia placed the phone on her desk and looked at the time. She just hoped whatever the scums of Manhattan had planned could be dealt with in under ten hours.
-----
It was almost nine thirty by the time she had convinced McGrath and the press and One PP that Shirley Weston's injuries were indeed caused by her Minster-Husband's fists and that no, he should be sent to the Tombs like every other wife-beating dirt-bag for overnight processing. She was therefore extremely grateful to be knocking on Elliot's door a short while later, her "emergency" over-night bag that she kept in her car at all times under her arm. She couldn't help but smile even before Elliot had finished opening the door. Despite the fact they were still hesitantly navigating themselves over that line between partners and well, life partners, they still sought much needed comfort in each other - just as they did (albeit a little more subconsciously) twelve years ago.
"Looks like you had a day and a half," Elliot said as he guided her into his home where the faint sound of this evening's headlines filtered in from the living room television.
She placed her bag on the bench and left her coat on the hook near the door. "Ah, yeah." She said as if it were the most obvious thing the world. She kicked off her boots and gratefully accepted the glass of Cab-Sav Elliot handed her (definitely not over-thinking the fact he appeared to have one of her favourite drop readily at hand).
Elliot joined her on the other end of the couch with a beer. "Did you want to talk about it?"
"There isn't much to talk about really." Olivia took a long sip of her wine.
"I hate to say it but sometimes I miss the cut and dry nature of SVU cases," Elliot said.
They looked at each other for a beat before dissolving into soft snorts of laughter. "Mm, yes I'm sure you'd much rather be arresting priests than bartending for the elite of New York's underbelly..." Olivia mused.
"I gotta say, this kind of undercover work does beat sex addiction therapy or being a perverted parolee any day of the week."
"Fair call, Stabler. Though at times you did play a very convincing pervert." It was almost painfully easy for them to slip back into the charming banter that once followed them consistently on nearly every case they worked together at SVU. Olivia would think later as she ducked to bathroom to change into comfy yet somehow stylish sweats that it was quite nice to actually hear about Elliot's day instead of sharing the same one. The way he relayed stories about his time at the OCCB was a welcome distraction from her often tumultuous hours spent chasing down One PP officials for more man power or (gently) harassing the lab to rush DNA; or, even more recently, worrying about what to do with Velasco. As she re-joined him on the couch, she was pleased to see he had also changed out of his firm navy blue Henley into a t-shirt and NYPD-branded track pants.
They both stayed on opposite ends of the couch but the distance wasn't as tangible as it could have been. Olivia's legs were tucked underneath her and her knees pointed towards Elliot, who had one leg on top of the other and was laid back, arm outstretched along the top of the couch.
"So. A movie." Elliot's voice caused Olivia to look at him with a bemused smirk. She locked her phone and put it face down on the arm of the couch.
"Yes. A movie. Something that has absolutely no ties to Lin Manuel Miranda or features any form of talking animal."
Elliot laughed, "I'm guessing Noah took a strong liking to Encanto." His grandchildren had been equally taken by the animated movie.
"You have no idea," Olivia said darkly.
Elliot was still smiling as he turned on the flat screen in front of them. He flicked through several titles alphabetically before stopping on The Bourne Identity. He looked over at Olivia who shrugged then nodded.
"Meets the criteria," Olivia said.
The movie begun to play as Elliot got up to refill both of their drinks. When he sat back down, Olivia noticed he sat a little closer.
---
As Matt Damon took them on a high-speed chase around Paris, Olivia couldn't help be drawn back into the beautiful city she once visited with Ed and Noah.
"God, I miss Paris."
Elliot looked at her, eyebrow raised. "I didn't know you went to Paris."
Olivia threw him a look that clearly read There's a lot you don't know. "Yeah, Ed, Noah and I went a few years back now."
Elliot immediately recalled their conversation in the hospital waiting room just over a year ago. He possibly was a little too forward, and definitely not subtle in asking about her relationships that filled his ten year absence. But Olivia was barely forthcoming and Fin had been good on his word and hadn't divulged on her behalf.
The movie played on in the background as Elliot turned in her direction, not willing to let this opportunity slide. "This is the Ed that you said you almost settled down with?"
Olivia took a sip of her wine and nodded. "Mhm. We had both just taken on more demanding roles, so it was the perfect opportunity escape from the brass."
Elliot's brows furrowed together and paused, drink halfway to his mouth. "Wait. Wait, Liv- by Ed... Do you mean Ed Tucker?"
Olivia looked at him, shrewdly, surprised by the near accusatory nature of his tone. "Yes? Why?"
"You mean the Tucker, the rat who was seemingly hell bent on destroying SVU?"
Olivia laughed, trying to ignore the venom rising in Elliot's tone. "Don't call him that, El."
"But-no hang on. That's who you meant was the one guy you nearly ended up with?" Elliot knew he was repeating himself but didn't care. The idea that Olivia could have spent the rest of her life with that career-ending rat was so obviously insane that he needed her to be fucking with him.
Olivia looked at him, expression carefully measured. "Elliot," she began, "I would not have dated the man if I didn't trust him completely. Or if I thought he had an ulterior motive. He was one of the most genuine men I ever had the pleasure of knowing. He was also a fine policeman and an absolute godsend for Noah."
Elliot stood up and placed his empty beer bottle at the sink. He opened the fridge for another. "That's probably what he wanted you to think." He said it quietly, but to Olivia his tone was deafening.
"Elliot, stop it. I know I can't change your opinion on Tucker but you need to respect mine." Olivia turned once again back to the television, clearly trying to stop this conversation in its tracks. While she knew Elliot would find out about Tucker eventually, and she was glad it was coming from her in the end, she really wished that for once Fin wasn't so damn loyal and had ripped off this particular band-aid for her.
And Elliot certainly didn't waste time rubbing salt into the wound.
"I could deal with you dating half of New York but I can't fucking believe you'd let yourself go that low."
"'Let myself?' Are you kidding me right now?" Olivia looked at him in stunned disbelief, which quickly morphed into anger and frustration as she watched him walk to the far side of the bench. "You of all people do not get to fucking stand there and question, let alone have a say about who I dated."
"I never would have imagined you of all people," Elliot replied mockingly, "Would have dated Ed-fucking-Tucker, Olivia."
Elliot knew his jealous energy was radiating across the room, but a lifetime of diving head-first into conflict was hard to kick. "What was he, some kind of rebound?"
It took all ten-plus years of therapy Olivia not to leap off the couch and smack Elliot into next week. She tried to ignore the bait. Elliot was a detective at his core and she refused to give him the satisfaction of playing into his interrogation. "You really place yourself on that pedestal, don't you?"
'You put me there." Elliot countered all too quickly.
His words stung and Olivia's fists clenched tightly. She knew exactly where Elliot was taking them with his insinuation and it didn't take her long to arrive outside that cursed hospital room where their much younger selves were having the conversation that would alter the fabric of their tightly wound (yet already-frayed) professional relationship. Thankfully, the Gitano ordeal was no longer on heavy rotation within her nightmares...only because it had been since replaced by fresher horrors. But visions of Elliot swimming in the blood that poured from her neck, desperately trying to save the young boy, only to drown with her name on his lips were dragged all too easily from the darkest corners of her mind.
"Fuck you, Elliot."
"You do remember that he was half the reason I left. He was gunning for my badge from that first good shoot in '03 and you weren't there - he all but smiled when I informed him I wasn't returning."
"You're right, I wasn't there. Because you made damn well sure of that!" Olivia stood and placed her drink on the nearest coffee table. "So forgive me when I say that your career was the last thing on my mind when he and I were together."
"He wanted you out too, if you remember?"
"Of course I remember, Elliot! He was just doing his job for fuck's sake." Olivia stood, empty wine glass perched perilously on the arm of the couch. She made for her bag.
Elliot kept his eyes trained on her, still unwilling to let this slide. "Yeah, well, he did it a little too well didn't he."
The resentment mixed with regret in his tone stopped Olivia in her tracks. She was desperate to defend Tucker... but at the same time she all too readily remembers the vile anger that perpetually bubbled under the surface every time Tucker became involved with SVU cases when she and Elliot were partners. Maybe the long day and the wine were making it easier for her emotions to truly surface. Or perhaps it that she was exhausted from two years of awkward side-stepping. Either way, if they were to move over that line, several things needed to be said. Now. Olivia rounded on Elliot.
"I'm sorry Elliot. I'm sorry that you were always in IAB's warpath. I'm sorry I made it worse by involving you with Simon. I'm sorry you had to shoot Jenna. I'm sorry that you felt I wasn't good enough to stand by your fucking side during that time, and I'm sorry that I haven't been exactly forthcoming with you. Being abandoned by the only good fucking thing in your life at the time will do that to you."
As much as Olivia wanted to leave right then and there, she was too curious to hear his response. Hear his excuses. Maybe they would make leaving tonight easier. Maybe, just maybe, she'd hear what she's been wanting to for over a decade.
Elliot closed his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Every sorry pierced his heart deeper than the next.
"It wasn't - it wasn't that you weren't good enough, I wasn't. In fact, I was a coward. You know this. If I had allowed myself to reach out… I don’t think I would have let go. And, it was a deepest regret that I made myself believe if I paid my dues, followed my pre-destined path, I could make up for the shitstorm I had created, that I had dragged you into."
"And I know," Elliot said before Olivia could interrupt, "that what you and I had…" he swallowed thickly, "what you and I were would have paved over that path if let it."
Olivia let this last statement hang between them. It wasn't word for word what she had admittedly hoped to hear two, let alone ten years ago. But she could also see the genuine sadness behind his eyes. If he told her that he mourned their separation as she did, she would now be able to let herself believe him.
Olivia took herself back over to the couch and sat down heavily. She was firmly pressed against the side of the arm rest, and was staring intently into her empty wine glass. Elliot followed.
Ten minutes passed before either of them said anything.
"I would have liked to have gotten to know the Tucker you did." Elliot finally said softly.
Olivia raised her eyebrows, surprised they were back on Ed. It was as close to a white flag as she would ever get from Elliot Stabler, and she appreciated that he was finally willing to look at the relationship with Tucker from her perspective. She took a deep breath.
"I - uh, I appreciate that Elliot." There was a pregnant pause. "I'm sorry I was omissive earlier."
Elliot waved her away. "You didn’t owe me anything." He looked at her empty wine glass, her gently flushed cheeks and rose again. Olivia's eyes followed him, coated in a gentle curiosity as he picked up her glass, placed it into the sink and flicked the kettle on.
Minutes later, she was handed a steaming hot mug of tea. If she had any sort of fight left in her, Olivia would have said something about Elliot seemingly making the decision for her to cut her off, but the warmth radiating across her palms and from across the couch where Elliot had retaken his position was enough to let her mind rest. For now.
