THEY ARE DOING IT
The SVU AU game continues! Nightly, for your entertainment. This one is an AU off the ep "Wrath" - SUCH a shippy ep. Instead of putting a detail on her, Elliot follows her himself.
Elliot/Olivia, NC-17.
If You See a Shadow
***
Olivia comes out of the bar late - maybe midnight, maybe one. Fin and Munch left together fifteen minutes before, Fin bitching about having to give Munch a ride home.
On the street she gets her bearings, takes note of who's around, careful. She knows this guy's out to get her, and she's paying attention. There are two guys in a car across the street who are carefully not watching her, but neither of them is Plummer, so she turns to go.
There are footsteps behind her, matching her pace. She speeds up and he follows, and the car she noticed before is driving slowly behind her.
She ducks into an alley and waits, her gun drawn. As the man following her comes around the corner she shoves him into the wall, her forearm against his chest and her gun pointed at his heart.
It's Elliot. He puts his hands up, open. "Liv, it's me, it's me."
She stares at him. "What are you doing?" Her heart is pounding and she blinks at him, blank. Then it all clicks. "You put a protective detail on me." He nods slowly. "The men in the car?"
"FBI."
She is so angry at him, so angry, and he winces. She realizes she's still holding a gun on him, and puts it away, but shoves him harder against the wall. He makes a noise in the back of his throat.
"You put cops on me and you don't tell me?" she says tightly, and she could kill him, she really could.
"I knew you'd refuse," he says. "Olivia, the guy's killed four people."
"You think I don't know that?" she snaps, and he looks away.
She suddenly becomes aware of how their bodies are pressed together, how they're standing close enough to kiss, too close. He's getting hard against her.
She steps back abruptly, leaving him sagging against the brick. "Go home to your wife," she says, and walks away.
***
She does not stop being angry when she shoots Plummer, when Elliot takes the gun out of her hand. She lets him, because for a second she forgets, and trusting Elliot is a habit too deeply ingrained to get rid of easily. But then when he offers to take her statement, concerned, his hand on her back, she remembers, and when she tells him to stay away from her, she means it.
Not that Elliot listens. That night he knocks on her door for a good twenty minutes before she finally gives in and opens it just to stop the pounding. She turns away without inviting him in. "God, Elliot, take a hint," she mutters as she heads for the bathroom to wash her face.
When she comes back, he's standing just inside the door, still wearing his coat. Hovering. "You're sitting here in the dark?" he says, frowning, and she just looks at him without saying anything. After a second he shrugs a little. "Okay."
She slumps onto the couch, plants her elbows on her knees and presses the heels of her hands against her eyes. She's so tired, tired and angry and guilty, and she can feel Elliot watching her. Then his footsteps going into her kitchen and the refrigerator opening like he owns the place. Possessive son of a bitch, that's Elliot.
He comes back holding two beers and he hands one to her without looking. There's a hiss as he opens his and sits right next to her, without leaving buffer space between them like a normal person. But she and Elliot have never been normal.
She can't stop thinking about Plummer's face when she shot him. About Clayton Derrick's father, dead in a box on her front steps, about the angle of his arm on the pavement. Elliot not trusting her enough to tell her about the detail. Elliot's hard-on pressing into her. Plummer's gun not being loaded. His victims tied together, dead because she'd helped them.
And fuck, she's crying again, and there's a reason she didn't want to let Elliot in. Her breath catches on a sob, and he looks over from where he's been staring into space, not saying anything. He doesn't say anything now, just looks at her, the way he does sometimes when she's in pain and he wishes he could fix it. And it makes her angry, that look, because he didn't tell her, because he questions her judgment, because he can't fix it and she wishes he'd stop trying.
He reaches over to touch her shoulder, but she grabs his wrist before he can. He blinks, startled. "Don't," she says.
"Liv," he starts, and she tightens her grip, so forceful she can feel his pulse under her thumb. He frowns, but doesn't pull away.
"I am so angry at you right now," she says, and her voice is tight.
"I know, I'm sorry," he says. "I should've told you." They stare at each other for a long moment.
"Yeah," she says. "You should've."
Then she must go a little crazy, because she pulls him towards her with the hand holding his wrist, puts her other hand on his shoulder and kisses him, and she doesn't know why.
He doesn't pull away and maybe that's reason enough. She bites at his lower lip and he doesn't pull away then either, just holds still and let her do it, lets her push him back against the couch. When she breaks for air he gasps, "Olivia," and she says, "Shut up," and closes her eyes and kisses him again, and it helps.
When he brings his hands to her waist, that helps more. Then they're under her shirt, and he's pulling her across him, and he's hard against her when she straddles him. She kisses him with her hand on the back of his neck, and his collar is damp from the rain.
He pulls her shirt over her head and undoes her bra with one hand, and she can't hear anything but the blood rushing in her ears. She struggles to get his tie undone and he laughs and does it himself, with a strange expression she can't read. When his shirt comes off, the light from the windows is watery on his shoulders.
He's kissing her breasts while he undoes her pants and tries to push them down her hips, and finally she stands up to help get them off. And for a second they aren't touching at all, and she pauses and they look at each other and suddenly this isn't something that's happening, it's something they're doing. And she's naked in front of Elliot but he's looking at her face and he's the one with the wife but he's standing up and kissing her again with his hands on her hips. Walking her back towards the bedroom and she's fumbling at his belt, and he makes a desperate sound deep in his throat when she brushes his cock.
When he pushes inside her she digs her nails into his back, and he gasps, and he's staring at her like he can't look away, and she can't take it. She closes her eyes and wraps her legs around his waist and tries not to think of Clayton Derrick's father dead in a box.
When Elliot comes he says her name, and it's almost enough.
*
END
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