Work Text:
Olivia doesn’t want to do this assignment, but there’s no one else to send who can be ready in time. She and Elliot are probably the only ones who could be ready on such short notice and have a chance at being successful.
She’s wearing a tank top, and the elastic waist of the maternity jeans is folded low, resting at her hips. She needs to strap on the prosthetic stomach, but she can’t bring herself to do it. She got word yesterday that the adoption agency turned her down, so the idea of playing pregnant is a lot at the moment.
She’s startled when there’s a knock on the locker room door, and it creaks open. Elliot calls for her, “Liv? You almost ready?”
“Getting there.” She clears her throat. “Could you give me a hand with these straps?”
“Sure thing.” His footsteps get closer, but before he rounds the corner, he asks, “You ready for me?”
Olivia slips the vest-style padding over her head and smiles at his consideration. “Yeah.”
Elliot moves to stand behind her. From this angle, she can’t see their reflection in the mirror. He pulls the straps snugly around her to ensure that the padding doesn’t move unnaturally. Once the straps are secured, she pulls up the elastic panel of the pants, stretching it over her temporarily-protruding stomach. Elliot reaches for the shirt that is laying on the bench beside her and passes it over. She slips it on and smooths down the fabric. It hugs the curve of her stomach, but the bottom hangs loose.
Elliot takes a step back and turns them, so she can see their reflection. When they make eye contact in the mirror, images flash through her mind like a fast-action slideshow. A diamond ring. Her in a white dress. A little girl with olive skin, brown hair, and bright blue eyes. A little boy with curly blonde hair and chocolate eyes.
“Looks good on you, Liv,” he breaks her from her reverie.
“Maybe in another life,” she whispers, tears stinging her eyes, but she can’t cry. Not now.
He takes a step closer, rests his hand on her waist. It’s closer than they usually let themselves get, even now that he’s single. Maybe especially now that he’s single. He’s just getting into character, she tells herself, knowing it’s not strictly true.
“I can’t talk about it right now, but the agency turned me down yesterday. With the hours I work, no family support, they don’t see me as ‘prime parent material’,” she reveals.
“They’re wrong.” He leaves no room for questions.
She sniffles. “Yeah, well.” She only realizes she’s crying when she feels his thumb rub gently across the apple of her cheek, taking a few tears with it. For a moment, his right hand comes to rest on the spot where her neck meets her shoulder.
She can sense the moment when he decides what to do next, sliding his hand further down onto her back and pulling her into a tight embrace - one of only a handful they’ve shared during their partnership. What he does next takes her by surprise even more than the hug. He turns his head to say softly into her ear, “We don’t have to talk about it now. Just know that anyway you want to have a kid - if you still do - I’ll support you.”
“Thanks, El,” she croaks out as she nods her head and briefly hugs him closer.
When she releases him, they both take a step back. She makes a joke about needing to fix her face, and he lets her deflect. He returns to their desks to review the case information one more time, and when she joins him, there’s no sign of the emotional conversation from less than ten minutes before.
“Real quick. A picture of the happy couple.” Munch is holding up the digital camera he’s been carrying around lately. Elliot glances at Olivia before throwing his right arm around her shoulder. Her left hand rests on her stomach, and just as John takes the picture, they both flip him their middle fingers. “Perfect,” he declares, and Captain Cragen calls for everyone’s attention.
The next morning, the photo is in her email. She opens it and smiles, thinking about all of the ‘maybes’ in front of her.