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“Happiness is you and me;
Never was a dream so right;
Love has finally come in sight.”
— “Come On Home” by Mary Chapin Carpenter
The first time that Olivia had found herself in Elliot’s arms, she’d been horrified at the idea that the two of them had gotten there before she’d had a genuine chance to really unload on him about how he’d abandoned her for a decade. Certainly she’d made passing comments, slipping in an extra glare or allusion to what he’d missed out on, but she never really got the chance to get to the depth of how she’d felt about it. He didn’t know about how terrible she’d been to work with, how Cragen had been fed up with her anger, and how it was the only time that she’d been genuinely curious if she would have been forced to walk away from SVU. They’d somehow managed to skip past all that when he’d turned up at her apartment a few days after the failed intervention, demanding that she understand that all he wanted in the decade apart was her and that he was spinning out because he hated himself for wanting her so soon after Kathy had been buried. Olivia had barely had time to process the admission when Elliot had reached for her, lips crushing against hers, his admission that he wanted to be better for her whispered into her mouth in between kisses that she simply melted into.
It was something that Olivia hated herself for those first few hours after it had happened. It had been a dream; the way Elliot had left bruises on her hips from the intensity that he’d gripped her, holding her to him as he’d ground his hips against hers, and the depth of want that had burned within her even after she’d all but thrown him out of her apartment. She’d pushed through the evening with Noah, allowing his favourite take out as a dinner option that night, while trying not to think of the intensity of the orgasms that Elliot had given her that afternoon. Thankfully her son hadn’t noticed her distraction, too invested in his stories and excitement about the end of season dance showcase, and Olivia hadn’t been able to do much more than simply hum along, beaming with pride at just the right moments.
It had only spiralled from there into something that she’d hadn’t truly expected. She’d sought Elliot out at his apartment two days later, insisting that they needed to talk about what had happened between them, and she’d left half an hour later on unsteady legs, her cheeks flushed from the way he’d buried his face between her thighs in his kitchen and begged her to show him just how much she’d wanted him. They were always going to end up here, Olivia knew that, and she was certain that the feelings they’d tried so hard to ignore before he’d disappeared would have bubbled to the surface if he hadn’t left. But instead they’d gone year after year without speaking, pretending they were fine without each other, and now that Kathy was gone, it was always inevitable that they would finally reach for one another.
I love you. She’d been the first one to say it, not even two weeks into their new arrangement, gasping it against the curve of Elliot’s neck as he’d made her come in her shower one morning. They’d stopped then, her reeling from her orgasm, and she’d gone a deep scarlet, her hair plastered to her face as Elliot had pulled himself away from her to meet her gaze. I know. He’d simply nodded, serious, understanding how alarmed she’d been that she’d allowed the words to slip out, and he’d kissed her gently.
It wasn’t just sex then. Olivia knew herself well enough to know that it probably never could be that with Elliot, and she’d simply insisted that it remain that way to bury herself in the denial that she’d felt. She’d kissed him gently after they’d finished that morning, both of their cheeks pink as they’d shared sips of coffee from the same mug before she’d insisted that he go before Noah saw him. I love you too. Elliot had whispered it against her mouth as he’d left that morning, regret seeping into his voice, I’ve always loved you Olivia.
They’d met for coffee two days later. A public place, some quiet little cafe halfway between OCCB and SVU, insistent on wading through the mess that they’d made of themselves. They were something now, despite everything, and they’d just have to keep it a secret as best as they could. Noah would have to know soon, Olivia had insisted on that; and Elliot had simply smirked at her over his coffee, mumbling something only she could hear about how they’d have to settle for her apartment if she wanted him to come by. After they’d settled on their tentative plan, they walked side by side back to her car and Elliot had kissed her again, promising that things would be all right between them. She should hate him for it - for how easily they’ve gone for strangers with memories to falling into a relationship - but instead she lets him kiss her in full view of strangers on the sidewalk and mumbles another I love you into his mouth before he pulls away.
It feels right to her, even though she knows it shouldn’t. His kids are still reeling from Kathy’s death, and while she knows Elliot has her now, Olivia notices the way he sometimes hesitates when he leans in to kiss her. It’s too soon, she keeps telling herself, even when Elliot stays the night and insists on making her and Noah breakfast in the morning. He’s still grieving. She’d explained it all to Noah too, insistent that her son not say anything because it was too raw for Elliot to deal with everyone knowing about them, and Olivia had wanted him to have time for the two of them. Making up for lost time, Olivia had said, and Noah had nodded solemnly, as if he’d understood how desperately she’d missed Elliot all those years.
They don’t talk about her scars right away either, and Olivia knows that maybe they should have. She feels the regret in the way Elliot drags his tongue over the worst ones each time they’re together, whispering how he’s so fucking sorry when he lays his eyes on her, and three months in, she finally pulls out the files for him to look at. It pains her to see, the way Elliot studies the photographs of her injuries, and how the anger in his eyes burns hotter as he finally realising the hell she’d been through in his absence. I’m never going to forgive myself, Elliot whispers against one of the worst burns that evening when they’re in bed again, his lips smoothing over her skin, and Olivia doesn’t know what to say. She’d reminded him that she’d fought, that she got through it without him, and that even though she’d prayed for him to come to her over and over again; she understands now that he couldn’t have saved her from her mind in the end. She had to fight her own way out, he couldn’t have healed her simply by being there, and that they can’t continue to live in the what-ifs of the past.
I’m never leaving you baby.
She’s never been the sort of woman who liked pet names or affectionate endearments, but her heart melts when Elliot does it. Baby, my love, even once; my entire world - all of it makes her fall deeper in love with him. It makes Noah roll his eyes, especially the first time that he hears it, but Olivia doesn’t care all that much. The three of them are happy. Elliot and Noah snap together as if they’ve in each other’s lives the entire time, and more than once, Olivia finds herself tearing up at the sight of them bonding over nothing in particular.
You love him. Noah says it as a statement, not a question, four months in. Olivia hums, stuttering over her words as she glances at the apartment door where Elliot should be getting in at any minute. She does love him, she knows she has for a long time, and she nods. I do love him. There’s no hesitation there, she doesn’t need to hesitate anymore, and she smiles thoughtfully. He’s the love of my life.
That night Olivia curls into Elliot’s side, her leg draped over his while his fingers tangle in her hair, and decides that enough is enough. We have to disclose, we can’t work together if SVU and OC have to be on a joint case. She doesn’t like the idea of coming clean to practically everyone she knows, even if they both know it’s the right thing to do, but she can only make excuses for the occasional flower bouquet or lunch that Elliot has delivered to the 1-6 for her. There’s probably been talk, people taking bets on who the mystery man is, and Olivia would guess that at least one person has put her and Elliot together. But it’s for their sakes, to be sure that they won’t run into issues and conflict if someone finds out about them, and as Wheatley’s trial approaches, then she’s going to want to be at Elliot’s side as much as possible.
Okay. Elliot had whispered back, his mouth already on her neck, and he’d smiled against her skin. Whatever you want Captain.
——
Fin is the first to confirm to Olivia that he’s aware of the news and he takes it in stride, announcing to her that he wants her to be happy. Then quietly, a solemn promise that if Elliot broke her heart then Fin would ensure there would be hell to pay. Out of them all, he’s the one who has truly seen her through it all, and Olivia knows that he’s serious. When Elliot had left her before, her heart ripped to shreds in grief, Fin had remained ever present beside her when it seemed everyone else moved on. She smiles now, pretending that she doesn’t hear Fin when he mumbles something about how he’s not sure if Elliot deserves her, and hums to herself - he does.
Newcomer Kat doesn’t say much about it. Either she doesn’t know or doesn’t care, and Olivia’s relieved with either outcome. She’d prefer it that way, the knowledge that someone on her squad doesn’t need to know about her personal life, and the rumour mill that surrounds her and Elliot. That’s how she’d like it to be anyway, that no one feels the need to drag her personal life into the squad room unless SVU ends up working a case with Organised Crime. It’s only logical to Olivia that then, and only then, should her entire squad know her relationship with Elliot.
That entire plan gets shot to hell half an hour before she’s about to leave.
Amanda breezes into her office, a whirlwind of energy, her eyes wide and curious as she peers at Olivia. “You’re sleeping with Stabler.” She doesn’t ask, she declares it, as if she’d heard it from Elliot himself. Her arms fold across her chest, her expression morphing from one of seriousness to almost anger, and her voice drops low. “You’re gonna get your heart broken Liv.”
I know. Olivia had wanted to admit defeat, that maybe Amanda has a point, but she’d simply stared. Out of all the women she’s known, Amanda is the one whom she’d be closest to considering a friend, and now Amanda’s standing in front of her with fire in her eyes and the corner of her mouth twitching in annoyance.
“You know what you were like last time he left.”
There’s truth to that. Olivia can admit it now, and she allows the faintest of nods in Amanda’s direction. She had be horrible to interact with, let alone try to work with, when Amanda had first come to New York, and Olivia has made half-hearted amends for that. It’s not something she’ll ever really apologise for, nor does she think she needs to given the way Elliot had vanished from her life overnight, and the people who remain around her do understand it. But she huffs to herself as Amanda pushes on.
“You don’t love him, not really.”
Sometimes Olivia questions that herself too. Does she really want this new Elliot instead of the Elliot of a decade ago who had used her - used them - to run away from his responsibilities under the disguise of work. It had been thrilling for her then, to know that he wasn’t hers to want, but to know that he was opting for safety and ease with her instead of the chaos he faced at home. It had been past Elliot that fuelled her fantasies for years, even before he’d left her, and this new Elliot was different. He’s a more well-travelled Elliot, refined with experience and pain that Olivia thinks he only really felt when he’d walked away from her, but underneath she can see enough of the old Elliot, her Elliot, gleaming through.
And she tells herself silently, to keep Amanda at bay, that she loves this Elliot too.
“He’s going to break you all over again Liv and I can’t watch that.” Amanda heaves a sigh, the telltale sign that she’s about to unload her unfiltered self onto Olivia, and she shakes her head. “I know you think that this is what you deserve but it’s not. You deserve better than him and I can’t… I’m not going to watch you do this to yourself, or to Noah.”
That makes Olivia’s stomach churn, the mention of her son, and she tenses. Last night she’d watched as Noah animatedly talked Elliot’s ear off for a good hour about a musical that he wants to see, even if it’s never made a state-side debut, and how much Noah wants to see it. Somehow the two of them had gotten talking about the places that Elliot had seen in his absence and it hadn’t hurt either, Olivia had listened quietly from where she was in the middle of folding a stack of towels on the dining room table, her heart near bursting at the sight of her son so happy around Elliot.
“Noah adores him.” Olivia finally grits out, determined to defend her son’s feelings before her own. If Noah is happy then she’d hope that would be enough, Amanda should know better than anyone what Olivia would do for her son’s happiness, and she shakes her head. “And I don’t need you commentating on my relationship with Elliot either. We’re happy.”
“Sure.” Amanda half-snorts her response, her voice soft and hushed, but she plows on anyway. “I’m sure that all the grief sex you’re having makes up for a decade of leaving you.”
Well, sort of. Olivia wouldn’t call it grief sex, even if that’s what it had probably been those first few times. It’s more about them making up for lost time, realising how stupid they’d been to never acknowledge what they could have had if they’d been braver in the past when it came to their attraction. She feels loved with Elliot, wholly and utterly loved, and the excessive number of orgasms that he’s given her in the four months they’ve been together are just a bonus. (She doesn’t need to tell Amanda about the marks on her thighs from this morning, about how she’d almost considered coming in late so she and Elliot could steal some more time together and how she’d been the one who had begged him for a fourth round even though they were both already running late.)
“I don’t need to defend myself, or Elliot, or us - to you.” Olivia swallows instead, suddenly feeling rather small and unlike herself. She hates the way that, even after the amount of sometimes only half-helpful therapy sessions she’s put herself through, how her mind can turn on her in seconds. She’s a fucking Captain, she’s used to adversity and pushing back to get what she wants, but Amanda’s words dig at her for a moment. What if she’s only willing to ignore the hurt that Elliot had caused her because he’s here now? What if he loves her for who she is but plans on running away again. After all, his kids don’t know about them yet - would he run if they didn’t approve of the two of them?
“I love him.” Olivia pushes. It’s true, she always has, and it feels as if a weight has been lifted from her shoulders when she admits it aloud. Olivia had been the first one to say it and nor had she felt a sliver of hesitation when she had, and now she sits up a bit straighter at the admission.
“You don’t know what love is.”
The almost hiss of anger from Amanda isn’t a surprise, but her choice of words is. They’ve seen each other through romantic entanglements over the years and Olivia knows damn well that Amanda knows that she is perfectly aware of what love is to her. No one person has the same image of love, and as much as Olivia would like for her and Amanda’s searches for love to be more understanding, she can’t pretend for it to be something it isn’t.
Olivia knows that she knows what love is. Love is her coming home to Elliot and Noah in the kitchen when she’s worked late again, her son bouncing around the countertops as if he’s known Elliot his entire life. It’s in the way that Elliot knows when she’d rather shut herself in the bathroom with a bubble bath and wine instead of making conversation with her son, despite how little time she seems to be home some days. Then how Elliot tries to smooth that tension over, to ease Noah’s mind when he’s hurt that his mother’s job stresses her out and she can’t be present with them, and how it calms her son for the night. It’s how Elliot crawls into bed with her most nights, his broad chest pressed to her back, and even when she doesn’t want to talk about work, he knows just what she needs.
You don’t need someone to take care of you Liv, but God, that’s all I’m gonna do.
Elliot had murmured the words in her ear the other night, the two of them sweaty and still breathless from a hurried fuck against her bathroom door, and Olivia had blushed at the implications. She’s certain that one of these days she’s going to forget that they don’t have the apartment to themselves, that she’ll be wrung out from an overly stressful day at work and she’ll beg Elliot to use her, not caring if she’s sore the next morning.
“I know enough.” Olivia replies, slowly, snapping back to the present. She meets Amanda’s fiery gaze with her own, not needing the reminder that this is her office, and her life. Instead she taps a finger against the edge of her desk, her voice soft, “I don’t need a lesson from you when it comes to love either.”
It’s her way of reminding Amanda that she’s made mistakes too, that she’s let her own heart be broken because someone looked at her in just the right way, and how she’d been happy to believe the risk was worth it. It always had been in Olivia’s experience, that even the relationships that had faded into regret and anger, were once something to her. Neither of them are perfect, masters at seeking out all one and done sort of connection, and Olivia purses her lips into an extra thin line. “I have actual work to do, so unless you have an issue with how I go about that then…”
She waves a hand and silently Amanda nods, stalking out of the room as if she’s expecting Elliot to jump out of the shadows and defend Olivia’s honour. Olivia wouldn’t complain if it that were the case, and once she’s sure Amanda is out of sight, she reaches for her phone.
Olivia Benson (12:14 PM): Stay over tonight? I know you were going to see Kathleen and Lizzie after work but I need to see you.
It’s something that she hates herself for now, the desire to run to Elliot the minute she feels doubt about what someone says about them, but it’s different. Certainly she’d faced it with Brian and Ed, especially the latter, but it’s different with Elliot. Everyone has an idea of who she and Elliot were before he’d left, who they’re going to be now that he’s back, and none of them are what Olivia sees for them.
Elliot Stabler (12:15 PM): Things okay? I can sneak out early and meet you.
As much as she wants that, maybe even for Elliot to kiss her a bit too deeply in the middle of the squad room where Amanda has to watch, Olivia doesn’t want to be to that person. When she was younger she’d fantasied about her and Elliot throwing their responsibilities and logic to the wind, clinging to the thrill of them having to see just how quiet they could be in the cribs. They’re older now though, and as much as she’d been curious about that, she knows from experience now that Elliot leaves her too winded to walk steadily when he’s done with her.
She texts Elliot back after a few moments, after she’s pushed the idea of them sneaking off somewhere for a mid-afternoon romp like teenagers from her mind, and she hopes she’s not blushing at the thought.
Olivia Benson (12:17 PM): I’ll sneak out early. I need it today.
Elliot’s only response is an eggplant emoji with a question mark and God, Olivia loves him for it.
——
The minute she walks in the door, Olivia knows that Elliot is trying to make up for the day that she’s had. Not telling him what it was that had bothered her had been intentional, if he knew it was related to them disclosing and Amanda’s too-opinionated remarks, he’d have burst into the squad room looking to start something. It’s what he’s expecting he’ll have to do, especially if someone gets going on the thought that maybe he left a decade ago because the two of them had slept together and that he would have ruined his marriage for them. (Olivia knows that he would have if they’d ever opted to cross that line, and privately, she’s relieved that they never did. She doesn’t want his children to hate her.)
Dinner is a welcome relief. Noah goes on a bit too much about a show that he wants to go see on Broadway, and somehow to conversation falls easily to Elliot when he mentions that Lizzie is going to start working costume design at the exact same show in a few months. He promises to Noah that he’ll ask about tickets, maybe it can even be a thing that he gets to do with Lizzie, and the blue in Noah’s eyes shines at the thought of being able to really get to hear about the show that he’s fallen in love with now. It’s a welcome relief to hear the two of them talk and it allows Olivia the space to stew about how she’s going to talk to Elliot about Amanda’s comments. If she says just the wrong thing then it could make it worse, make it so the two of them never want to be in the same room again, and Olivia hums just enough to feel as if she’s included herself in conversation.
These are the sorts of moments that Amanda doesn’t see, the contentment that Olivia feels when she comes home now, and it’s the reason that Olivia knows she isn’t just with Elliot because the sex is good. Certainly, it is good, but it seems as if Elliot’s desire to be present for her and Noah is amplified even more than she’d ever seen when they worked SVU together. Elliot’s the one who had offered to take Noah to the doctor a few weeks back when he’d strained a muscle in his leg and they were wondering if he’d need physical therapy to strengthen it. Most nights he’s here, making dinner for the three of them and enthralling Noah with stories about his time abroad, which surprisingly don’t hurt so much anymore if Olivia hears them. In fact, Elliot is taking on the same roles that he always has, the caretaker of everyone else around him, but he doesn’t feel nearly as on edge as Olivia can remember from their past.
“You’re quiet.” Elliot hums after dinner, finding Olivia in the kitchen where she’s nursing the glass of wine that he’d poured her during dinner. Before she can reply he slips up beside her, his arms circling around her waist and he buries his face into the curve of her neck, his words muffled against her skin, “You want to talk about it now?”
“Later, when Noah’s asleep.” Olivia shrugs back, well aware that it’ll be easier for her if she’s not worrying about her son overhearing them. She doesn’t want to make him hate Amanda for having an opinion, even if it had hurt Olivia to hear, and she finally lifts the wine glass to her lips, draining the last mouthful. “You’re definitely staying tonight?”
They need to really talk to his children, especially Eli, sooner rather than later about them. Certainly they all must know, Olivia’s pretty certain that Elliot has told them flat-out at this point that he’s seeing her, but she’s not entirely sure. It had been a conversation that she’d wanted to be there for, she’d expected that they’d have things to say about it - complimentary or not - but if Elliot’s handled it then he’s managed it on his own. But if he hasn’t discussed it then Olivia can only imagine that his children must suspect something, after all Elliot spends most nights with her anyway, and though she’s not entirely certain, she thinks that the majority of his clothes are in her closet as well.
They really should look at a bigger place if he’s going to officially move in, one that has enough space for both Eli and Noah, and maybe a small office space that could double as a guest area if his grandsons come to stay, but Olivia doesn’t want to get too ahead of things. The both of them have a lot to talk about; things that they’ve put off ever since they started sleeping together, and while it would have been logical to talk about before things had gotten serious between them, it’s always been serious. Tonight also really isn’t the night where they should talk about that sort of future, Olivia still feels too keyed up from Amanda’s comments still and knowing her impulsivity, she might just ask Elliot to move in with her tonight if it means she can piss off Amanda a bit more. (She would be happy too, she’s been happy ever since she and Elliot started… whatever they are.)
Noah is on his best behaviour this evening, something that Olivia is sure that Elliot has something to do with as well, but she doesn’t have the desire to call either of them on it. It’s nice that they’re managing to find balance in this new dynamic, something that she’d privately been worried about more than she’d wanted to admit, and it’s refreshing to her. Most of it is likely just because she doesn’t think that Noah has ever really thought about her having a relationship with anyone, he’d been too young to remember much about her and Ed, and Olivia hadn’t ever really thought of having any sort of conversation with Noah about her own romantic life until after she and Elliot had begun sleeping together. She’s just relieved that most of the important people in her life are happy for her, and Olivia finds herself smiling widely to herself at the thought once she’s breezed through the rest of the evening.
“How about now?” Elliot’s voice is soft once he’s gotten ready for bed, slipping under the covers on what’s become his side of the bed. Gotten ready is a bit of a ridiculous statement, he doesn’t have a three or four step skincare routine that he keeps up with, and Olivia knows that his is nothing more than splashing some water on his face after he’s brushed his teeth, but she hums softly.
“You’re insufferable, you know that, right?” Swallowing, Olivia glances away from where she’s scrolling through the day’s news on her phone to where Elliot’s tracing his fingertips over the inside of her thigh. It makes her grin with the fact that he always seems to want to be touching her, as if he’s determined to prove that even if they’re in the same space, he’s not going to leave her side unless he has to. She shifts again though, smiling faintly and she leans over to rest her phone on its charging dock before she glances over at him, “You really want to talk about it, don’t you?”
That’s not something she blames him for, not when she’d been the one to ask him to change his evening plans so she could be near him because she wanted him with her tonight, but Olivia hates the fact that it means she’s going to have to talk to him about what Amanda said. She doesn’t want to taint his view of Amanda, or really anyone else on her squad, with how they’ve reacted to their relationship but it bothers her. Maybe it’s her fault for making her circle primarily those who she works with but they understand the chaos that working for the NYPD entails, plus she has a job that thrills her, and most of the time everyone understands that.
“Amanda told me that this…” Olivia gestures between them, her voice soft, “…What we have isn’t going to last. That I’m just using you, using this, because you’re grieving and I just want you back in my life.” She huffs, the reminder of what Amanda had said to her stinging all over again, and she shifts, reaching for Elliot’s hand and she grips it tightly, dropping her voice so it’s barely above a whisper. “That I don’t really know what love is supposed to be like.”
For a few moments Elliot is still, staring somewhere off into space in the direction of the door of the ensuite bathroom, and the only sign that he’s heard what Olivia said is the feeling of his fingers digging into the meat of her thigh. If she were feeling reckless then she’d suggest they use each other to work through his anger, she’d certainly thought about that being a semi-helpful distraction earlier in the day, but it wouldn’t be all that conducive to get to the root of her anxieties about Amanda’s comments. She knows that none of those comments are true, her and Elliot’s relationship is more than just excessive amounts of grief sex, and it’s really been that way since the start of things. They have something real, something that has always been more than just about their physical attraction to each other, and Olivia sighs softly, “El, say something.”
“She’s your friend Olivia.” Elliot’s voice is a harsh whisper, as if it physically pains him to acknowledge that fact, and he finally releases the vice-like grip that he’s had on her thigh. “That’s not the sort of shit you should have to hear from someone, especially when she doesn’t know us.” He falters for a moment, as if suddenly unsure of himself. Hell, his own children don’t know about the two of them, and they both know that there must be all sorts of guesses about where their father is sleeping most nights, but before Olivia can vocalise her point, Elliot pushes on. “No one really knows us Liv, you know that.”
Of course she does know that, she’s a goddamn police captain and she knows that she’s used to this sort of shit. It’s the sort of thing that she’d heard in whispers when she and Ed had begun seeing each other as well, the talk about how her only friends were fellow police and that she wasn’t going to have a real relationship, not even when she tried to think she could. Olivia had gotten used to the whispers, she’s been accustomed to them throughout her entire life, and she can’t explain why it bothers her this time. It’s not as if Amanda has always approved of how she’d conducted her life, personal or professional, and Olivia’s certainly worried about her choices as well, but she sighs and hums, folding herself into Elliot’s side.
“I know, I just…” Her voice falters for a moment, thick with emotion that she’d been determined to keep buried, and Olivia reaches for Elliot’s hand. “She’s my best friend Elliot.”
It’s the truth, even if Olivia isn’t sure she can explain it if she were asked. Certainly Fin is high on that list too, by her side for even longer than Elliot had been, and he’d move heaven and earth for her again and again. Elliot’s back there now too, ranking highest of all despite the things that they still haven’t been brave enough to talk about openly about the ten years of silence between them, but Amanda somehow finds her way onto the list too.
“That doesn’t mean she should say that shit to you.” Elliot turns now, his shoulder awkwardly bumping Olivia’s as he sits up straighter in the bed, his tone clipped. There’s a fire burning in his gaze, not as intently as it had burned on the night when the two of them had finally talked about Lewis, but it simmers there as he shakes his head at her. “Jesus Christ Olivia, do you think so little of yourself… of the people around you who love you… that you’re going to sit and make excuses for her comments?”
God, that stings. It sounds like the sort of thing that Serena would say to her when she was drunk, eager to pick a fight over nothing in particular, and most often when she wanted to criticise Olivia’s dreams. She’d sip vodka directly from the bottle, her lips pursed together in a thin line, and rant and rave about how terribly Olivia’s life was going to turn out if she chased after her own dreams. Serena always said that she knew best, that she knew what Olivia deserved, and finally, Olivia releases the breath she’d been unaware that she’d been holding.
“My mother used to tell me the same thing.” Olivia’s voice is small once, barely audible, at the admission and she pulls her hand from Elliot’s grasp. That’s something the two of them have never really talked about - their parents - and she sighs again, shaking her head at him, “About how she knew what I deserved.”
“Fuck that.”
If their conversation weren’t meant to be so serious then Olivia would take the time to admit to Elliot that him cursing does something to her, that maybe they could table the Amanda conversation for another night, and he could just love her. It would be a relief to know that he could do that, that he’d be willing to put aside a conversation that she isn’t really certain she wants to have anymore in order to just distract herself for the rest of the evening, but she shifts and cracks the smallest of a smile instead. Of course she knows Elliot better than that, to expect him to put aside his anger and indirect hurt at both Amanda and Serena’s comments about her life, and instead he’ll let them take up space in his heart unless she talks it all through with him.
“I’m serious Olivia, fuck that. Fuck her. Amanda doesn’t know anything about us and you know it. She walked into your life when you were heartbroken and alone, when I should have been there for you and when I was too much of a coward to do it. She should know you better than that, that you’re stronger than the woman she met all those years when it comes to me, and that we’re… we’re something Olivia.” Elliot reaches up, his voice only softening as he whispers her name, and he purses his lips, “I know what the whispers are, even before I left SVU, and I know that you deserve to be happy with whoever you decide. If you want me then God help me, I don’t know why you do, but she should keep her judgemental ass out of it.”
Olivia allows herself to laugh, actually laugh, at Elliot’s choice of words. While she doesn’t think that the right response to Amanda’s dismissive nature toward her and Elliot is to just assume that no one knows the two of them, especially when Elliot is right that Amanda did get to know Olivia when she’d been heartbroken and reeling from his absence in her life, she thinks he might be right at the same time. Despite the silence between them, they’d immediately found themselves back in the same cycle of push and pull that they’d been in prior to him leaving, though with the added complexities of their new sexual relationship. It’s not as if Olivia wants Amanda to be right either - Olivia doesn’t want Elliot to leave her again, but she thinks that her friend has a point too.
“She was there when you weren’t El…”
It’s a weak argument, one that Olivia knows the two of them will go back and forth on again and again, and she finds herself reaching for Elliot’s hand again. There had been a few times when Elliot had first left when Olivia had sought comfort in the precinct’s rooftop, and how she’d stared out at the city and considered praying that he’d come back to her. Fin, Munch and Cragen had all pretended not to notice her grief, the way she’d look helplessly around as if she’d expected Elliot to waltz in as if nothing had gone wrong between them, and even Nick had been at a lost for words most days. Only Amanda really knew, having found Olivia on the precinct’s roof on Elliot’s birthday that first year without him, and she’d stood quietly, just out of sight, while Olivia had whispered a quiet birthday wish to the evening sky.
“…I needed a friend and she was there.”
For a moment, Elliot simply stares, as if he’s unsure of how he can keep pointing out his point. Both of them are well aware that he’s right, that just being there doesn’t excuse Amanda’s comments, and he huffs a soft breath as he finally reaches for Olivia again, looping his arm around her waist as he pulls her back into his side. “I know baby.” He buries his face into her neck, his breath warm on her skin, and exhales again, “I know.”
The two of them can’t go back in time and fix the last decade. If they could then Olivia thinks that maybe they’d have ended up here sooner, somehow, and she closes her eyes as Elliot’s lips ghost over her skin. She doesn’t know how she’s supposed to prove Amanda, or anyone else who doubts what she and Elliot have, wrong. Everyone and anyone in the NYPD has thoughts about them and now that they’ve disclosed, she’s not sure if she wants to hear the comments that have been brewing for longer than Elliot’s been back in her life.
“I’m gonna have to give her a piece of my mind Liv.” Elliot murmurs against her skin, his fingers seeking out the hem of her sleep shirt and he tugs at the material gently. No matter what their topic of conversation is, they often seem to end up here, and he hums, his tone gentle. “No one talks to my girl that way.”
My girl. Yet another one of Elliot’s overly affectionate endearments, but this time, Olivia simply hums with pleasure at hearing it. That’s what she’s always loved about him, even in his absence; about how he’d defend her with his entire being if someone so much breathed in a way that upset her. She shifts, tracing her fingers over Elliot’s forearm as she settles herself into his embrace, her fingers pressing over the fading ink over his Marines Corps tattoo, and she exhales slowly.
“Don’t do that.”
Tomorrow morning she can set things straight with Amanda, or so Olivia hopes that she can. It’s not that she doesn’t appreciate Amanda’s concern, in fact it’s sort of sweet that she wants to raise hell over the idea that Olivia and Elliot are serious so soon after Kathy’s death, but it’s also true that Amanda doesn’t know them. Amanda hadn’t seen the way that the two of them almost always seemed to know what the other way thinking, what they wanted, and at times, the way they seemed to breathe in sync with one another.
“I’ll talk to her in the morning.” Olivia sighs, unsure if that’s the wisest choice, but it seems like the most logical one. If she and Elliot are going to start being romantic if he stop by the precinct for lunch, or for a case, then Olivia needs to be sure that there’s not going to be any issues with any of her detectives. She’d planned on this anyway, sitting down with whoever had concerns about the two of them, but she hadn’t truly expected it to be Amanda who tried to complain about it. (Fin would have been a better option, having more to say than simply I’ll break the bastard’s face if he leaves you again and a quiet smile because he knows she’s happy.)
But Amanda hurts.
“You deserve to be happy Liv.” Elliot whispers. There’s a quiet sadness in his admission, the knowledge that the two of them missed out on years of being happy together because they hadn’t found a way to admit their feelings before now. It’s only fitting that Elliot repeats this to her now too. He’d been here himself a few weeks into his and Olivia’s new arrangement, wondering why he didn’t feel guilty about finding solace in them, and Olivia had told him that he deserved to be happy.
You deserve happiness Elliot. Kathy wouldn’t want you to be alone forever.
It had smoothed over easily, and now, Olivia blinks at him, the reminder of their conversation a few months ago written on her face. They deserve to be happy together, despite what those around them think, and gently, Olivia leans in and brushes her lips slowly over Elliot’s.
“I love you.” Olivia’s voice is soft, barely above a whisper, despite the fact that they’re closed in the safety of her bedroom, and she shifts against Elliot’s side so she can rest her palm against his chest. She’s intentional, pressing her palm over where she can feel his heartbeat, and closes her eyes, “I’ve always loved you Elliot.”
It’s true. Even when she’d been convinced that she would never lay her eyes on him again, Olivia has loved him. She’d tried to move on, tried to build a future in a world without Elliot Stabler, and she’d never felt truly whole. It had been hard, even when she’d pretended that it wasn’t or worse, pretended that Elliot didn’t exist in her memory. That’s how she’d gotten through the first few years with Noah, trying to resist the urge to remind herself that Elliot had been the one whom she’d learned the most about parenting - even vaguely - from. She’d watched him come in tired from wrangling his own family when he actually went home, and in the loneliness of the quiet when Noah would curl up in her arms, Olivia had wished she could reach for the phone and swap parenting stories with him.
But he’s here now; here to stay, and Olivia has no intention of letting him go again. No matter what anyone says about them. He’s always been hers, even when he wasn’t really hers to want, and she’s always been his. That’s how Olivia thinks it should be - Benson and Stabler, together like old times. They’ve certainly been through hell, both together and apart, and she definitely prefers the thought of them going through shit together again.
In the safety of her bedroom, curled up in Elliot’s arms with his lips on her neck, Olivia has to admit to herself that things will be okay. The world doesn’t have to love them - hell, even his kids don’t have to like them together, but they’re happy together and that’s what matters. It’s taken them over two decades to get here, to realise that this is what they wanted, and Olivia would gladly spend the rest of her life in this moment, safe and loved in Elliot’s arms.
For now, this is enough. Maybe someday she’ll think about forever.