Work Text:
“Cause when you know, you know
And when you’re old, you’re old “
Margaret, Lana Del Rey
Monday 2nd February 2026
E: Morning
L: Good Morning Detective
E: You know what I just realised?
L: What?
E: You’ve got a special day coming up!
L: Do I?
E: Happy last week of being 57! Any plans for your big day?
L: It’s a saturday, so — hopefully no work. Noah has a dance thing in the morning, then takeout and a movie I guess — as long as Noah doesn’t abandon me for his friends.
E: Wow, that sounds riveting!
L: Stabler, I’m far too old for elaborate birthday celebrations
E: Nonsense. If anything you should be making more of a fuss. At this age, who knows how many you have left.
L: Elliot!!!
E: Fine. Sorry.
L: You’re on thin ice, Stabler
E: Noted. Still, no work, that’s a win
L: It is. And I think Noah is excited, so that helps.
E: He should be. You do a lot for him.
L: Yeah.
E: Still – if there’s time after the dance thing, and the takeout, and the movie — I could help make it slightly more… rousing.
L: Let’s see
E: Okay. Have a good day Liv.
L: You too, El.
⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢
E: Hey Kid, what’ve you got planned for your mom’s big day?
N: Well, she’s coming to my dance recital in the morning, then I wanna take her out to lunch, do something special for her — but I kinda don’t have any money… then, we go home and I give her presents. But I feel bad — i’ve been invited to a party in the evening and I really wanna go but I can’t leave mom on her own on her birthday.
E: How would you feel about sharing your mom with me for some of the day? We could go out for lunch — wherever you want. Then I’ll be with her in the evening, while you go to your party. How about that?
N: Really?! If that’s okay with you? I think she’d like that.
E: Of course. Let me know where to meet you.
N: Will do.
E: See you then
⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢
“I am so proud of you Noah. That new dance is awesome!” She smiles.
“Thanks, Mom.”
“So, any special plans for me today?” She winked, laughing.
“Well…”
“Noah I was joking… i’m perfectly happy to go home and eat crappy Chinese and watch Pretty Woman for the fourteenth time.”
He rolled his eyes with exaggerated patience, “no, mom. I have a plan. Just … follow me”
They walked a few blocks, chatting about his dance class, about a kid who kept stepping on his toes, about whether pizza or pasta was objectively better. Olivia didn’t notice where they were heading until they turned the corner and the familiar gold-lettered sign came into view.
Da Nello.
Her steps slowed instinctively. The warm glow from the front windows spilled onto the sidewalk, the smell of garlic and fresh bread tugging at memories she hadn’t thought about in years—Sunday dinners, her mother’s laughter, Nello slipping her extra biscotti when he thought her mom wasn’t looking.
“Noah,” she said softly, emotion catching her off guard, “this is perfect. I love this place—”
“Liv.”
Elliot stepped into view a little farther down the sidewalk, the city noise falling away as her attention snapped to him. He held a bouquet of long-stemmed roses, deep red, wrapped simply but elegantly.
“Hey,” he said, voice low. He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her temple—familiar, careful, intimate. “Happy birthday, Captain.”
He handed her the bouquet. She brought them to her face, inhaling slowly. Fresh. Expensive. He’d carefully chosen these. .
“What are you doing here?” she asked, smiling despite herself.
“Well—” Elliot glanced at Noah, then back at her. “Noah wanted some help making your day extra special. So I came to the rescue.”
Noah beamed. Elliot gave him a quick pat on the shoulder, their shared look unmistakably conspiratorial.
“I hate surprises,” Olivia said, shaking her head, even as her smile softened. “But… thank you. Both of you.” She exhaled, emotion settling warm in her chest. “I’m excited.”
“Olivia! Benvenuto, I haven’t seen you in ages!” He greets her with a kiss on the cheek.
“Nello! So good to see you. I know it’s been a while — work” she rolled her eyes.
“It’s mom’s birthday today” Noah said, excitedly
“Of course — I remember when you were the same age as Noah and you used to come here for your birthday. It feels like just yesterday.” The older man ushered them inside and settled them in a cozy booth, surrounded by faux plants, in the middle of the restaurant.
“Thank you, Nello, how are the Grandkids?”
“Sophia just got accepted to NYU, we’re very proud of her. Marco is working in Tech in California, Angie is at La Guardia High, she’s gonna be a star some day, speriamo. And Leo is working as a chef here. He’s gonna make me a bisnonno — him and his wife are expecting a ragazzino in the summer!”
“Oh my God,” Olivia laughed softly, eyes bright. “Your heart must just be bursting with pride.”
Nello pressed a hand to his chest dramatically. “Always. Too much sometimes. I cry, my wife tells me I’m embarrassing.” He grinned. “But—this one,” he gestured to Olivia, “she’s family too. Birthday dinner, on the house. I already told the kitchen.”
“No, Nello, you don’t have to—”
“I want to,” he cut in gently. “Now. You sit. You drink. You eat. We’ll take care of you.”
He squeezed her shoulder before bustling away toward the kitchen, already calling instructions in rapid Italian.
Olivia exhaled, smiling after him. “He’s impossible.”
“He’s perfect,” Noah said, climbing into his seat. “And he said I could get the gnocchi.”
“You absolutely can,” Olivia laughed. She glanced at the menu out of habit, even though she already knew half of it by heart. “Okay. Gnocchi for you. I think I want the branzino. Or the osso buco…”
“You always overthink this part,” Elliot said, amused. “You’re getting the lobster linguini.”
She looked up. “I am not — I wanna try something different”
“You are,” he said calmly. “You get it every time. You say you won’t. You say it’s too rich. And then you do.”
There was a beat. Then she huffed out a laugh. “Fine. The Lobster Linguini.”
“I’ll get the chicken parm,” Elliot added, closing his menu. “And a bottle of the Barolo.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t even ask.”
“It’s your favorite,” he said simply.
That gave her pause.
A moment later, Nello returned to take their order, nodding approvingly at each choice before promising antipasti “immediately” and disappearing again.
As soon as he was gone, Elliot leaned back slightly, lowering his voice.
“You know,” he said, watching her carefully, “seeing you here… with Noah. This place. It suits you.”
She smiled, soft but guarded. “It always has.”
“I mean it,” he added. “You’ve built something good. A real life.” He hesitated, then: “You should be proud.”
Her expression shifted—something vulnerable flickering across her face. “I am,” she said quietly. “Most days.”
He nodded, understanding more than he said. “For what it’s worth,” he murmured, “you deserve every bit of today.”
Noah, oblivious or pretending to be, leaned forward. “Can we get dessert too?”
Elliot grinned. Olivia laughed. And for a moment, everything felt exactly where it was supposed to be.
⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢
Dessert arrived in a small procession—cannolis dusted with powdered sugar, a slice of ricotta cheesecake, with a few candles on the top which Olivia swiftly blew out, three forks set down even though only one of them would admit to sharing.
Noah demolished his cannoli in record time, sugar already smudged at the corner of his mouth. “This is the best birthday ever,” he announced, leaning back in his chair.
Olivia smiled, reaching out to wipe his face with her napkin. “High praise.”
He hesitated, then cleared his throat in a way that was far too deliberate for a fourteen-year-old. “So… uh. Mom?”
“Yes?”
“Remember Jake? From school?”
Her eyes narrowed slightly. “The one who never returns my calls?”
“That’s his mom,” Noah said quickly. “Anyway—he’s having a thing tonight. Just pizza and stuff. I already asked. You said I could go if I finished my homework.”
Elliot hid a smile behind his coffee cup.
Olivia glanced between them. “You planned this.”
“No,” Noah said, a little too fast. Then, grinning: “Okay. Yes. But Mrs. Reynolds is there, and she promised to text you, and Elliot said he’d make sure I got there safe.”
Her gaze snapped to Elliot. “You said what?”
“I said I’d make sure he got there safe,” Elliot repeated mildly. “Which I will.”
She studied Noah’s hopeful face, the careful way he was pretending this was casual, the excitement barely contained. “Fine,” she sighed. “But you text me when you get there. And if I don’t hear from Mrs. Reynolds—”
“I know, I know,” Noah said, already sliding off his chair. “Curfew. No illegal activities. Don’t embarrass you.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Happy birthday, Mom. For real.”
Her hand came up to his back, holding him there just a second longer. “Thank you for this afternoon,” she said softly. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he said, then grabbed his jacket. “Bye, Elliot.”
“Don’t do anything I’d have to arrest you for,” Elliot said.
Noah snorted. “You’re not SVU anymore.”
“Still got the badge,” Elliot shot back.
And just like that, Noah was gone, the door swinging shut behind him, leaving a sudden, unmistakable quiet at the table.
Olivia exhaled slowly. “He’s getting too smart.”
Elliot met her eyes. “He gets that from you.”
She huffed, shaking her head, but her smile lingered.
“So,” he said after a beat, softer now. “Just us.” The words settled between them.
“What next?” She turned to him and smirked.
“Why’re you asking me.”
“I don’t know. You planned all this without my knowing. I was assuming you had something else up your sleeve for after we leave.” She laughed, dryly.
“Nope. No plans. Whatever you want to do. We can watch Pretty Woman again or be a little more exotic and try a movie you’ve only watched three or four times like Forrest Gump or Dirty Dancing”
She huffed a laugh. “You better not be mocking my taste in film Stabler.”
“Oh, never, I know better than that. You’re a woman who knows what she likes. Nothing wrong with that, even if it does get a little — repetitive.”
Olivia laughed, “fair, okay. Maybe we can try something new.”
⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢
The cab ride back to Olivia’s was easy, comfortable. They sat in silence, mostly, apart from the occasional nostalgic comment.
Her apartment was warm, a faint smell of vanilla clung to the air.
“Thank you for tonight.” She tossed her coat on the sofa before turning to look at him.
“You don’t have to thank me, Liv.”
“I do. You didn’t have to do any of it.”
“I wanted to. You deserve it.” She reached for his hand and squeezed it, smiling.
Then they parted. She busied herself with unwrapping the roses, riffling through the kitchen to find a vase. Elliot watched her intently, her rolled sleeves and quiet focus. This was the part of her he’d barely been allowed to see when they were partners. At work, they shared everything — knew everything about each other. But this — the quiet domesticity, there had always been a boundary, until recently. He likes this side of her. He leant on the counter, taking in every detail.
Olivia continued, filling the vase with water, carefully trimming the stems. “These flowers — they’re beautiful”
“So are you.”
Her hands stilled. She stayed staring at the roses, her back to Elliot.
“El…”
“I’m not trying to make things complicated.” He said, steadily, moving closer but trying not to crowd her. “I’ve spent too much of my life waiting for the right time to say things.” He sighed, “I don’t wanna do that anymore.”
The room felt smaller. Olivia was acutely aware of Elliot’s presence behind her. She dropped all of the roses into the vase, arranging them neatly.
“Today — watching you with Noah, seeing you happy — it hit me.”
She turned to face him. “Hit you how?”
“That I don’t want to be on the outside of your life anymore”
Olivia took a deep breath.
“As much as you’ll let me, i’m here for you, Liv.”
She smiled, a tear rolling down her cheek. “That means a lot El.” She reached out and brushed his forearm. She moved closer, looking up into his big blue eyes. “Thank you.”
His hand rested at her waist. “Liv —” he murmured.
“Don’t overthink it,” she whispered in reply.
He hesitated for a moment — long enough for her to change her mind. She didn’t. His hand stayed at her waist, warm and grounding, while the other moved up to the nape of her neck. Her fingers slid up to his jacket, fisting his lapels — holding onto him.
“Liv,” he murmured again, softer.
She looked up at him, eyes steady, but revealing a vulnerability she seldom exposed. “It’s okay,” she whispered.
He leaned in slowly, tentatively. Their foreheads brushed, a quiet exhale shared between them. His lips finally met hers, gently. Olivia’s hand relaxed against his chest, hand splaying across the solid muscles over his heart — a grounding reminder that he’s real, and he’s here.
Elliot pulled away first — only an inch. Close enough that their lips brushed when she exhaled. “You okay?” He asked quietly, searching her face.
She let out a small, disbelieving laugh. “Yeah.”
“Good.” He pushed her hair away from her face, taking another moment to admire her.
“Wanna watch a movie?” She chirped.
“Definitely.”
⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢
A few minutes later they were settled in the living room, sat on the couch, a polite inch of space between them. Olivia had poured them both a glass of red, which she was swirling absentmindedly as she flicked through movie options.
“You know what I haven’t seen in forever?”
“What…” he replied softly.
“The Fugitive.”
Elliot let out a low chuckle. “You’re kidding.”
“Tell me you don’t wanna watch it,” she smirked.
“I haven’t seen it since it was in theatres.”
“Stabler, that makes you sound so old,” she laughed.
She pressed play.
Half way through the opening sequence, Elliot reached his arm along the back of the sofa. It was subtle, casual. But Olivia noticed.
Another few minutes passed. Without looking at him, Olivia shifted slightly, leaning back until her shoulder brushed his chest. His arm lowered instinctively, settling around her. She exhaled slowly, melting into him, relishing in this moment.
“You’re warm,” she murmured.
“You’re cold,” he replied.
“Am not”
He pulled her a fraction closer anyways.
On screen, Harrison Ford was running through the corridors of Cook County Hospital. Elliot rested his chin lightly against the top of her head. “You know the best part of this movie?”
“The one armed man?” She laughed.
“No,” he said. “Tommy Lee Jones not caring.”
She smiled.
A commercial break flickered across the screen and Olivia sat up. “Ice Cream?” She asked.
“What’ve you got?”
She stood up and walked over to the freezer, Elliot tagging along behind her.
“Well…” she pulled open the freezer drawer. “Vanilla, Chocolate, Strawberry, and Mint Chip.”
“You hate mint chip!”
“Noah loves it.” she rolled her eyes.
Olivia passed Elliot the mint chip and the chocolate, then grabbed the vanilla and strawberry for herself.
“Some things never change…” she laughed, “after all these years we still have polar opposite tastes in Ice Cream.”
Elliot chuckled, and put away the ice cream tubs.
⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢
They settled back on the sofa, shoulder to shoulder, eating their ice cream. The commercial break was about to end.
“Y’know, if this were nowadays, he would’ve been caught in like an hour.” Elliot laughed.
“Modern Technology,” she shook her head playfully. “Great for cops, detrimental to fugitives.”
“I bet I could’a caught him in like — twenty minutes.”
“Not without my help!” Olivia smiled
“Sure I could!” He replied, defensive.
“No. You would waste time tackling the wrong guy, then you’d find Harrison Ford eventually.”
He waved his hand flippantly, “Ah – details.”
They settled back into silence as the movie continued, setting their empty bowls down on the coffee table when they’d finished. It wasn’t long before they inched closer to each other, and without much thought, Elliot set a hand on her knee. Olivia stilled for a second, then she covered his hand with hers. It was like a confirmation.
He exhaled slowly, thumb brushing circles over the outside of her knee. The glow from the TV cast a soft light over them. After a minute she leaned over, letting her head tip onto his shoulder. Elliot responded immediately, adjusting his position so that she fit perfectly. His arm slid around her, more naturally now, his palm warm against her upper arm.
“Comfortable?” He murmured.
“Mm,” she replied. “Don’t make it weird.”
He smiled against her hair, then pressed a kiss to her hairline.
They watched in silence for a while. As time went on, their bodies drifted closer until Olivia was practically on top of him. Her fingers moved up his arm, tracing lazy circles.
And then, the movie is wrapping up — Harrison Ford’s character has confronted his corrupt best friend and been exonerated. Olivia hasn’t made a sound in almost half an hour. She lay in Elliot’s arms, unmoving save for the steady rise and fall of her chest. Not asleep though, he’s quite certain of that — she makes the cutest purring sound when she sleeps. It might just be the loveliest thing he’s ever heard. It was one of those small, seemingly insignificant things that he’d so desperately missed in those ten years they were apart. No — when he’d abandoned her, made the biggest mistake of his life.
“Olivia —” he croaked out.
He never used her full name unless he was being serious. Waking from her sleepy haze, she shifted to look up at him. “Mhm.”
“I love you. Happy Birthday.”
“I love you too El,” she replied, with an ease that came very naturally to them now. “Thank you for making my day special.”
He moved a hand to her head and smoothed a hand over her silky mane. “ ‘m glad I could be with you. I’m sorry, for all the ones I missed.”
She smiled in reply.
“How’d you like the movie?” Elliot asked.
Olivia sat up, legs crossed, facing him. “You know — I think it was a little more exciting when I was twenty five.”
“Again. S’the problem with modern technology — we’re spoilt, and forget how it used to be.”
“God Elliot — making me feel extremely old.”
“You — we — are not old. Got like seven years until mandatory retirement age.”
“I don’t know what i’ll do,” she sighed. “Die of boredom, probably.”
“Well — Chief Tynan made you an offer —- you thought about it?”
Olivia pressed a hand to her forehead. “Moving up the ranks, to the brass?” She scrubbed her brow with her hand. “I — it’s not what I had in mind. I guess i’ve never really allowed myself to consider that there’s a time when I won’t be a cop anymore. It’s who I am. It was all I was until Noah came into my life. I’m a mother, and a cop.”
It took a moment for her words to settle before Elliot replied. “I think — you’d be great at it. Your leadership, morality. But would you enjoy it?”
“This is the problem I keep coming back to. It would kill me, not being a cop anymore. But the alternative — it would stifle me slowly. Becoming one of the suits who’ve been a pain in my ass for the last thirty five years.”
“Damn ageist NYPD rules,” he laughed.
She chucked, “and what about you, El?”
“I’ll be a full-time grandpa.”
Olivia chuckled at that. “And what fun you’ll have.” Suddenly, she glanced at her watch. “Noah’ll be home soon.”
“Do you want me to go?” He asked.
“No no —” she reached out a hand to his forearm, as if to restrain him from leaving. “You can stay over, if you’d like.”
Elliot’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” she squeezed his arm affectionately.
“So —”
⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢
The apartment was dim, and silent, save for the buzz of the refrigerator and the low hum of the city outside. Elliot lay content, only semi-awake on Olivia’s sofa. She lay in front of him, while his arm rest on her ribcage, moving with the rise and fall of her chest. He hadn’t a clue what time it was. His phone lay on the coffee table, and if he moved even an inch he risked waking Olivia from her tranquil slumber.
Maybe he should just try to relax… close his eyes again — savour the feeling of having Olivia Benson — his Olivia — asleep in his arms, making her little purring sounds. Gone were his earlier melancholic regrets — Elliot only thought now of the time they have left together on this earth — if he didn’t fuck it up this time. He thought of more days like this, spending time with Noah, quiet domesticity, reminiscing about their partnership. Then he thought beyond — to their sixties and seventies. Retirement. Maybe for the first time in their life they’d have a consistent schedule, no late night calls to the precinct or the hospital. Perhaps they’d even have a weekly date night. And travel too — Elliot had managed to familiarise himself with quite a lot of western europe when he worked in Italy, but not as much as he would’ve liked. He knew Olivia had always wanted to see more of that part of the world too. There was never enough time. There is never enough time in life, that’s the problem. He’d never had enough time. His first child was born when he himself was a child. Then along came more, and work. All the time. The kids are his world, but goddamn it he wished he’d had more space, more time — to make the most out of life, to be there for all the special moments. He and Liv should take a trip. Maybe Europe is a bit ambitious at this stage. He’d always fancied seeing more of Canada, though. Or the Caribbean. He wasn’t certain he cared where, as long as Liv was there.
Elliot’s musings came to an abrupt halt when he heard a key turning in the door. He straightened up immediately, until he realised it must be Noah. Things might be easier if it had been an intruder at the door. At least intruders won’t ask awkward questions about why their mom is asleep in the arms of her former partner stroke best friend stroke whatever the hell he and Liv are.
Noah pushed open the door quietly. Though Elliot did not know what the exact time was, he was certain it was later than Noah had agreed with Liv. Noah looked the pair up and down before his eyes met Elliot’s. He sniggered a little before he spoke, “Oh my god,” he exclaimed in a dramatic whisper. “Amanda and Fin are not going to believe this!”
“It’s not —” he sighed.
“You know, they’ve had a bet going for ages, about when you two would finally get together,” Noah smiled.
“We’re not — it’s complicated.”
“To you two maybe, but not to everyone else.” Noah dropped his bag and stepped a little closer, “to everyone who knows you two it's simple. You’re meant to be together.”
Elliot grinned at that. “Okay,” he nodded.
“Well I'm happy about it. Whatever it is. Mom deserves to be happy.”
“Thanks. I’m sure it means a lot to your mom, too.”
Just then, Liv began to shift. She turned onto her back, giving Elliot even less space than he had before, and opened her eyes. “Hey,” she reached up a hand to cup his face.
“Nice nap?” Elliot chuckled.
“Wonderful thank you,” she smiled.
Elliot looked up at Noah, “wanna tell your mom what you just said to me?”
“Sure,” Noah shifted a little. “I think this —” he gestured vaguely in the direction of their position on the couch, “—- I think it’s really good. You look happier than you have in a long time.”
“Thanks Noah. I’m glad to hear you say that,” she smiled wide. “How was the party?”
“Good. I had a fun time.”
Olivia sat up, pushing her hair back away from her face. She drank the remnants of her glass of wine then stood and walked over to Noah. “Goodnight, sweetie,” she pulled him into a hug.
“Goodnight mom,” he replied. “Is Elliot staying over?”
“Yes. As long as you don’t mind?” She joked.
Noah laughed in reply, “goodnight Elliot.” He picked up his bag, then disappeared into his bedroom. Olivia watched him close the door, then turned back to Elliot.
“Well! That was —”
“Better than I expected, I gotta say.”
“Me too, I think.”
“Y’know, he said Fin and Rollins have bets going on how long it takes us to get together.”
Olivia rolled her eyes dramatically, “blatant insubordination. I should get my Partner to have a word with them, he’s very intimidating.” Elliot was unused to this particular brand of flirtatious joking from Olivia, or at least in the version of Olivia he’d come to know in the last five years. The old Olivia and Elliot might’ve had some back and forth a little like this, but it was different. They both always knew it wouldn’t — couldn’t go any further than that. Now, it was open ended. There was a world of possibility out there for them, and he was excited to see how this, whatever, played out.
“I’m sure he’d be glad to,” he smirked. Elliot stood and followed Olivia as she moved over to lock the door. He placed a hand on the small of her back as she deadbolted the door, then put on the security chain. She turned to him then, securing a hand on his shoulder. They stayed there for a little while, blue meeting brown with mutual looks of love. “You’re so beautiful,” he pressed his lips to hers in a soft kiss. He traced his tongue along the seam of her lips — she opened them, granting him permission to deepen the kiss.
Olivia pulled away after a while. “I’m tired.” She took his hand and led him into her bedroom.
She let go of his hand and went over to her closet, pulling out her own cotton pyjama set, then rooting right to the very back to find what she intended to lend to Elliot. After some digging, she found it. A very old NYPD t-shirt, with a slight hole on the left hip. She passed it to Elliot, who’d sat at the end of her bed. “Do you need anything else?”
“No, this is great. It’s mine.”
“Probably about ten more where that came from…” she scrubbed her hand on her jaw, laughing.
“Why did we always end up with so many of each other’s clothes?” He shook his head.
“Got cold on stakeouts in those crappy old sedans. Long cases, surplus of NYPD merchandise. And with how much you used to get injured, one of us always needed to carry a change of clothes.”
“Good point,” he smirked. “Do you — miss those days?”
Olivia perched on the end of the bed next to him. “Constantly. It was different then, we were like a bunch of kids, Cragen was the dad, and Munch was like the fun uncle who bores you with theories about government surveillance at thanksgiving. Each week we’d be dodging a new bullet — literally and figuratively, sometimes unsuccessfully in your case —” Elliot cackled. “Now I'm the boss. I have to be the serious, responsible one. I don’t have you by my side anymore, not at work anyway.” Olivia looked at Elliot, who was looking down at his hands. “We were the best. Benson & Stabler, making New York safer one perp at a time. We were unstoppable. Then one day we weren’t. And now fifteen years later here we are.”
“I’m sorry. I wish things could’ve been different. That I would’ve been brave enough to —”
“Me too,” she interrupted.
“I miss it too.” His tone was hushed, and his gaze downturned still.
Olivia held her hand firm on his shoulder, “we’re here now though, and I want to make the most of that.”
He met her eyes again, “you do?”
“Yeah,” she whispered
“Okay,” he took her hand and gave it a firm squeeze. “Should we — talk about it?”
Olivia nodded, “tomorrow.” She dropped his hand, “I’m gonna go get ready for bed,” she smiled wide before turning and disappearing into the ensuite.
Elliot stayed there for a moment, pondering, then stood when he was jolted back into reality by the sound of the tap running next door. He quickly pulled off his clothes, stripping down to just his boxers, and pulled on the scrappy old t-shirt. It smelled of Olivia — the soft detergent she used, probably fancy and organic, and the vanilla-y gourmand smell that seemed to cling to her – and everything she owned.
Meanwhile in the bathroom, Olivia pulled off her clothes. She stopped and stared at her exposed body in the mirror. Her fingers drifted to one of the scars at the base of her ribcage. She thought for a little while, about how her body had changed over the last few decades. She didn’t begrudge aging though, she saw it as a privilege, one she’d fought tooth and nail for on multiple occasions. These scars, left by the beast that she’d once seen as horrible reminders of the brutality she’d faced, that lived on even after his death — she now saw them as a reminder that she had beat him. Of course Elliot knew about William Lewis now, it’d come up last summer when they were working a joint case, so she’d told him. Not everything. She’d never told anyone everything that happened over those four days in 2013, and that single day a year later. If she ever did confess it all, it’d probably be to Elliot. Olivia had told him a brief version of the story, and allowed him to read the file. But he’d never seen the scars. This was one of her hesitations, about getting serious with him. Being vulnerable with him again.
She took a few deep breaths before pulling on her soft cotton pyjamas and continuing methodically with her night routine. Perhaps she should offer Elliot a toothbrush — she had some spares around here somewhere.
Olivia emerged from the bathroom after about ten minutes. Elliot looked up from his phone at the sound of the door opening. She hurled a toothbrush at him, which hit his face after he failed to catch it. “Thought you might want that, after all the garlic-y italian food today.”
“Thanks,” he laughed.
“You look — cozy,” she smirked. He was already lying in bed, covers pulled up to his chest, doing something on his phone. Messaging one of his kids, no doubt.
“I was getting cold waiting out here for you.”
She rolled her eyes and pulled the covers back to join him in bed. “You’re annoying.” Elliot slid out of bed, toothbrush in hand, to the bathroom and brushed his teeth. He kept the door open, so he could hear Liv whilst she blabbed on about something or other. Then he turned off the bathroom light and joined her in bed again. Olivia yawned.
“You’re cute,” Elliot smiled.
“I’m tired,” she responded.
They settled, Olivia lying on her back, half-lidded eyes staring at the ceiling. Elliot lay next to her on his side, gaze fixed on her with a smile. “What’re you doing next saturday?”
“Not much,” she replied, yawning.
“You wanna do something?” He asked gently.
“C’mon Stabler, you’re gonna have to do better than that.” She turned to look at him and pulled a mock disgruntled face.
He shook his head and continued, “okay, well.” He reached out a hand to cup her jaw, “Olivia Benson. Would you do me the honor of being my valentine?” He grinned.
And after three seconds she replied, “I guess,” she rolled her eyes, but her expression quickly shifted to a smile. They lingered for a moment, grinning gleefully like middle schoolers who’d just received valentines candygrams. Then Elliot pulled her in for another kiss, shorter this time, but just as meaningful. “Sleep. Now. Really.” She placed a hand at his sternum and gently pushed him back a little. Elliot draped an arm over her waist which Olivia covered with her hand. “Goodnight Elliot.”
“Goodnight Liv."