Chapter Text
2006
Elliot is kissing her.
Elliot is kissing her, right there in the entryway of her apartment, deep and desperate, cradling her face like it’s something precious, like he’s scared she’ll crumble to pieces right in front of him. He’s hot and insistent as he presses up against her, catching her bottom lip between his own and tugging gently, moulding his whole body to hers.
It’s instinct, the way she responds.
Fisting her hands in his hoodie, slipping her tongue past his lips, pulling him closer, closer, closer. She doesn’t think, just lets herself feel, lets herself be swept away by the sensations and backed into her kitchen. It’s like something out of a dream, kissing him, something out of the late-night fantasies she doesn’t admit to having, where every single thing she’s secretly been wishing for for the past eight years finally comes true.
Only when her back hits the edge of a counter does Olivia startle, does she stop dead in her tracks and push on Elliot’s chest, causing him to take a step backward. She’s panting when they break apart, face flushed and breath heavy, and Elliot looks much the same.
His pupils are blown, cheeks red, hair in disarray.
“What the fuck, Elliot—” Olivia stammers out, raising a hand to her lips. Jesus Christ, what have they done?
“Liv,” he rasps out, taking a step toward her. He raises his hand to meet hers but she pulls away, eyes wide and frantic as she tries to wrap her head around what just happened.
“El, don’t, I can’t—” Her heart is hammering in her chest and she can hear the blood rush in her ears, and oh, God, this isn’t supposed to happen. They aren’t supposed to fuck up like this. “We can’t just— what about Kathy, what about your kids?”
“Olivia,” he repeats, lower this time, with more purpose. He gets close to her again, gently, like he’s trying not to spook her. “You almost…” He shakes his head, sucks in a breath. “You almost died.”
“It was nothing—” She’s quick to deflect; it was a shallow cut, she’s fine, there’s no reason to—
“Jesus Christ, don’t you—” Elliot’s voice is harsh, and he scrubs a hand over the back of his head. “I thought you were gonna die, ‘Livia, and I couldn’t, I can’t— I wouldn’t have survived that—”
“Elliot—”
“—no, you gotta hear me out here,” he pleads, eyes wide and desperate. “You were layin’ on that floor and I felt like we’d lost… I felt like I’d lost the chance to tell you that I love you.”
“You…?”
“I love you, Liv,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “Have since I was twenty-one years old. And havin’ you back in my life — even if that’s just as partners — shit, that’s the best thing. But you gotta know that I never; I never stopped loving you. It never stopped being you and I, for me.”
Olivia doesn’t know which of them started crying first, but it doesn’t really matter, now. They’ve both got tears pooling in the corners of their eyes and she reaches up to gently wipe one off Elliot’s cheek with her thumb. He shivers at the contact, and she sways forward into his space, letting her eyes slip halfway shut when he cups her jaw and tips her chin up so she’s looking at him.
“Elliot,” she whispers, fighting every instinct in her body that’s screaming at her to just lean forward and kiss him again, to lose herself in it, in him. “You can’t just—”
“Yes I can.” He’s adamant, beseeching. “I’m done fighting this, I’m done pretending I haven’t been dreaming about this since that first day you showed up at the station house. I missed you every damn day for ten years, Benson, and this case…”
“You said we can’t be partners,” she says, thinks back to the words he’d said on that hospital sofa, the ones that cut her, down to the bone. “You said if we keep choosing each other, we can’t…”
“I was scared. I was fucking terrified and I said stuff that I— shit, Liv, I’m sorry, I’m sorry if I ever… I love you. I’m gonna go back to that. I love you and I’ve been wanting to say it for months now, but the time was never right, and…”
“And now it is?”
He laughs, and it’s a raw, cracked thing. “You’re alive, Olivia, and we’re both here and I love you, and—”
This time she’s the one to kiss him, hard and insistent, swallowing the last few words into her mouth. She pulls him closer, one hand clutching his hoodie, the other wrapped around the back of his neck. Elliot lets out a moan, a wrecked sound that escapes the back of his throat, and Olivia whines when he tangles his fingers into her hair.
He’s got her pushed fully against the cabinets, now, and the countertop is digging into her ass, but she can’t bring herself to care, not when his hand has started skimming up and down her torso, settling right below the swell of her breast.
She shudders under his touch, feels herself melting and turning into a puddle, right there in her kitchen, but this is all so sudden, so fast, so—
“Do you mean it?” she rasps out, and she hates the way her voice wavers, the way it’s gone small and meek. Elliot looks down at her, his face full of so much awe and love that her heart could burst with it. “When you said you’ve been in love with me ever since college.”
“I’ve been in love with you since the day I met you,” he says, with so much sincerity it makes her breath hitch, and Olivia shakes her head.
“You couldn’t have known—”
“Yes, I could. You’re it for me, Benson. It’ll always be you and I.”
“You and me,” she chokes out around a laugh, and Elliot raises an eyebrow. “It’s ‘you and me,’ because it’s the object of the sentence, and—”
“Liv, just shut up and kiss me.” Elliot groans when he interrupts her, half-exasperated, and she’s only too happy to comply.
/
2006
The only coherent thought in Olivia’s mind when Elliot finally, finally sinks into her, arms braced on either side of her torso, mouth covering her own, is that this feels like home.
Being here with him makes her feel safe and protected like she’s never been anywhere else. The memories start flooding her — all the times when he held her like this, moved inside her like this, all those years ago — and she loses herself to the sensation. To the nonsensical things he’s rumbling into her ear, the I love yous and So goods and You’re so beautifuls that make her heart flutter.
She feels it in every part of her, from the tips of her fingers all the way down to her toes. The heat is ratcheting up, building low in her belly and spreading throughout her chest, and nothing, nothing has ever felt like this. “El—” she breathes out, swallowing a moan as she presses their lips together, “I’m gonna—”
“Me too,” he groans, and then they’re flying, one after another, careening off the edge and collapsing into the sheets.
Olivia feels boneless, like she’s floating somewhere outside of her body, and she lets out a little whine when Elliot rolls off her. He chuckles and pulls her close, dropping a kiss to her temple.
“Fuck,” she mutters, “that was…”
“Yeah.” He presses another sloppy kiss to her neck, and she squirms at the feeling. Elliot laughs and slings an arm across her torso, letting his fingertips dance across her skin. “I can’t believe we’re here, Liv.”
“Me neither.” She’s trying hard not to get choked up again, but after everything, this still feels too surreal. She shakes her head and tucks herself further into Elliot’s side. “Tell me this isn’t a dream?”
“It’s real,” he reassures her, carding his hand through her hair and tucking a strand behind her ear. “It’s real and I love you.”
“I love you too,” she replies, lips turning up in a smile when she sees his eyes go wide. He clearly didn’t expect her to say it back so soon — truth be told, she hadn’t either — but everything about the past few days has put things into perspective for Olivia, and at this point? At this point she’s not willing to risk this, risk any of it.
Elliot cups her cheek and pulls her in for one more kiss, slow and soft, and she reluctantly breaks away after a few minutes, laughing when he lets out what can only be described as a whine.
“I have to pee,” she says, and he flops back onto the pillows with a groan as she walks over to her bathroom, telling him, “There’s an old pair of basketball shorts in the second drawer.”
When she steps back out into the bedroom, Elliot’s standing in front of her dresser in just his boxers, staring down at a folded up piece of fabric in his hands.
Her breath hitches when she realizes what it is — the threadbare UB sweatshirt he gave her, all those years ago, that she hid in a box until a few months back when he and Kathy separated and she wanted him close.
“You kept it?” he asks, disbelieving.
Olivia nods. “Couldn’t bear to let it go.”
“God, Liv… how much time did we miss, how much…?”
“Don’t,” she says. “Don’t think like that. You’ve got your kids, El, and we’ve both changed. There’s no use wondering.”
“Yeah,” he agrees. He sets the sweatshirt on top of the dresser and steps toward her, wrapping his arms around her waist and settling his hands on the top of her ass. He nuzzles his face into the crook of her neck and breathes in deep; Olivia winds her own arms around his neck and sways into his touch. “We’re here now.”
“We are.”
There’s an unspoken understanding that Elliot will be staying, tonight, that they’re going to worry about the real world — about their jobs and his kids and his ex-wife — tomorrow morning. Right now, they’re in their own little bubble, sealed up tight.
“Still sleep on the left side?”
She nods when she pulls back the comforter, slipping under the sheets. Elliot grins and sets his phone down on the right bedside table before sliding in himself. He immediately opens his arms and Olivia settles herself onto his chest with a contented little sigh.
This is what she’d missed.
Sure, she’d missed the kissing, and the sex, and everything in between, but the moments after — where they lay together, soft and quiet and drowsy, not a care in the world — those were always her favourite.
She exhales when Elliot slings an arm around her ribcage and drops a kiss to her crown, burrowing further into his side. “I missed you,” she confesses, voice barely above a whisper, and feels him tighten his grip on her in response.
“I missed you too, Liv. So fucking much.”
“D’you still snore?”
Elliot snorts. “Snore? When did I snore?”
“All the time, El.”
“I did not—” Elliot gasps, faux-offended, and Olivia laughs.
“Yes, you did. I woke up some nights and wondered who’d grabbed the saw.”
He reaches out to tickle her ribcage in retaliation, and Olivia shrieks, wriggling away from him as Elliot breaks out into laughter. It’s the lightest she’s felt in years, lying here with him (even with the memory of Gitano and Ryan looming over them in the darkness) and she relishes it, relishes them.
When they’ve called a truce, of sorts, they settle on their sides, facing one another, heads resting on the pillows. In the half-dark of her bedroom, Olivia lets her eyes roam over his face, his jaw, the slope of his shoulders.
She’s recommitting this Elliot to memory, making snapshots of every dip and swell of him, just in case this all turns out to be a dream.
“It’s real,” he whispers into the darkness, like he’s reading her mind. “Sleep, Liv. I’ll be here in the morning.”
She nods, letting her eyes drift shut as she reaches for his hand in the dark.
/
2008
If Olivia had told herself three, four — hell, eighteen years ago — that one day, her life would look like this? She’d’ve laughed at herself, called herself crazy.
She’s sitting on the couch in her apartment (or at least it will be for two more weeks), leaning back against the armrest and reading a book. It’s one of those rare Saturdays where she’s got absolutely nowhere to be and nothing to do.
Elliot’s spending the morning with Dickie and Lizzie, playing basketball in a park close to Kathy’s house. The twins have a school trip that leaves Monday morning, so they’re at their mother’s for the weekend, but Kathy and Elliot have found a rhythm these days, and Olivia is beyond grateful for it.
Grateful that, with the ink long-dried on the divorce papers and a new lease in the works for a three-bedroom apartment in Long Island City, the three of them have sorted out any lingering tension between them, that Elliot and his ex-wife can genuinely call one another friends and the kids get to spend time with both their parents and never feel left out.
And Olivia?
Well, she might never be best friends with Kathy, but she and Elliot’s ex have reached an understanding of their own, especially since—
She looks down at the growing swell of her stomach and smiles.
No wonder Elliot had four kids that quick. They’d barely started trying, and she’d ended up with a positive test within weeks after waking up queasy three days in a row.
Now, six months later, she can feel their little peanut moving around and making their presence known more and more, and it still floors her, every single time.
That she gets to have this — gets to be a mom, gets to be someone’s partner (in every sense of the word) — and do it with Elliot at her side. Elliot, who volunteered to leave the unit when they disclosed; he’s working Homicide now, from a squad room close to the one-six.
The job, he’d told her, was her calling, not his. Not in the same way.
She’d teared up when he’d told her he volunteered for the unit because of what she’d told him about Serena, back in Buffalo. That he’d thought about Olivia and her mother and knew that wanted to help, wanted to make sure others didn’t have to face the same pain.
But he did his run in sex crimes, was ready for something new. And knew that, as much as it would hurt not to have her six in the squad every day, SVU is her place, her home (when she’s not with him).
Cragen hadn’t been surprised in the slightest when they’d told him, had just smiled and shaken his head and told Olivia he never expected her to put the transfer papers in, after Gitano. She’d given her captain a watery smile and thanked him for making her think it over, because who knows how long it would’ve taken them to figure things out, if not for that night.
Maybe they’d still be orbiting one another, never getting too close.
But they did, and now it’s Saturday morning and she’s got nothing to do, except sit here and try to read a book she’s been meaning to get to for weeks. She wonders if Elliot will pick up those bagels she loves from the place on the corner, with extra garlic and herb cream cheese.
Sure enough, she hears his key turn in the lock right on cue. Olivia sets the book down on the coffee table, smiling as Elliot walks in and kicks off his shoes by the door.
“Got us bagels,” he says, by way of greeting, dropping the paper bag on the kitchen counter, “and that cream cheese you can’t get enough of.”
Olivia grins when he walks over to her, leaning down to press a kiss to her lips. “Mmm, hi,” she murmurs, “How were the twins?”
“Hi yourself,” Elliot replies, letting his hand brush over her stomach. “I think Lizzie’s gonna try out for the team in the fall. Kid’s got aim.”
“That’s great, tell her I can’t wait to come cheer at her games.”
Elliot smiles softly at that, squeezing her forearm. “Pinch me,” he tells her, “if I ever for one second forget how goddamn lucky I am. Or slap me, for all I care. Just don’t let me ever take it for granted.”
Olivia lets out a little chuckle, eyes crinkling. “Noted, Stabler. Now, I was promised a bagel.”
Elliot laughs, deep and full-bodied, and she grins. “Comin’ right up. But first—” He heads back to the kitchen, pulling a plastic bag out from behind the one that holds the bagels and schmear. “I was walkin’ down the street, and I saw one of those stupid souvenir shops on the corner, but I couldn’t help myself, and—”
He holds up the item when he’s walked over to the couch, and Olivia’s eyes go wide. It’s a little grey onesie, perfect for a newborn, with an orange and blue UB logo stitched on the front.
“El—” she whispers, reaching out for the garment. Elliot hands it over and sits down on the couch, placing a hand on her thigh.
“Thought the peanut should have something to commemorate where their parents met,” he says, shrugging. “The place where everything began.”
“It matches our sweatshirt.”
The faded grey one that still lives in Olivia’s dresser drawer, the one Elliot insists still looks better on her than it ever did on him.
“‘Course it does.”
“I love you,” Olivia rasps out, reaching over to cup Elliot’s jaw and pull him in for a kiss. “So much.”
“Love you too, Liv.”
“Pinch me too,” she tells him, “if I ever forget how happy we are.”
“I’ll do you one better,” Elliot replies, and leans in to kiss her again.