Summary: "Defensive wounds Olivia," he rasps through the darkness. "Make em deep."

Theme: Undercover, EO, Dark. Mature audiences.

Warning: Mild violence and sexual themes.

Timeline: Set pre Tucker. Post Lewis.

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She feels the steel barrel of the gun digging into her shoulder blades as she's lead down the darkened alley way.

Her radio has long since been disconnected. She can no longer hear the station in her ear. She can no longer hear Nick yelling at her to 'fall back' to 'call it in' to 'abort mission'.

She has been taken to a second location.

A four hour car ride south.

She doesn't need to be told the odds of being found are now minuscule.

Nick was never meant to leave her side. But she doesn't play the blame game because she knows she's just as accountable. Stray hands were grabbing her, groping her in the nightclub – all things she would usually detach from, all things that come with the territory, all things she'd brush off for the sake of her cover. All things her body now can't help but flinch, recoil, swing back and king hit in response.

She fucked up.

And now as she is being lead towards an unscheduled fate, her heels echoing the thrum of her heartbeat and the thought can't help but flit through her mind.

That years ago, many moons – long before the painful departures, the revolving door of new faces, her own personal torture and her long painful recovery, she knows she never would have found herself here.

Because years ago, there was only Elliot.

#####

She is pushed roughly through the steel door.

"This one," the assailant behind her yells out, still pointing his weapon at the back of her head. "We found her wired in a Manhattan," he seethes. "Detailing Michaels."

Her eyes scan the room, it looks like an office connected to a warehouse full of abandoned shipping containers.

"Nice one Tony," a voice to her right speaks and she can't quite make out his face through the darkness. He sounds late 40s, early 50s. "A pig or a fed?" the dark figure asks.

"NYPD," Tony confirms, tossing her badge towards the enquirer.

He takes a moment to scan her badge before he steps out of the darkness, his eyes dragging over her body, assessing her, chuckling to himself.

"Wow," he muses humorously, "Take her to Chaseling, he's gonna wanna see this."

#####

She is led through the warehouse, down multiple flights of stairs, until they finally come to a closed wooden door.

Her eyes trace the tarnished letters, paint chipping off the edges.

William Chaseling.

She assumes this must have been a corporate office back in the day, where the floors beneath her feet would have been softly carpeted, not stained, greasy cement.

Tony knocks firmly on the door, waiting only a few moments before he calls out.

"Will?"

She takes the moment to make a note of all potential exit points.

No answer, so he moves forward turning the handle and moving her through the threshold.

"Will?" he repeats. "I've got something you're gonna wanna see," Tony prefaces, a smile in his voice.

As she rounds the corner she stops dead in her tracks when she spots him, standing beside piles of discarded paperwork, sporting a faded black tee shirt and stained, tarnished jeans.

Elliot Stabler.

Their eyes connect for one, long drawn out instant where neither of them can pull away. The look of sheer disbelief that lines his features is mirroring hers and her heartbeat thuds in a wildly frenzy of confusion, relief and fear.

"Found her detailing Michael's at Frayer's in the city," Tony informs him. "I know you like cops, so consider this an early birthday present." He shoves her forward and she stumbles slightly, stopping a few paces from him.

His eyes are still fixated on her gaze unable to tear them away and she watches his Adams apple bob nervously at her presence.

She can stare all she likes she realises with Tony behind her but the grace period for Elliot seems to have come to an end. He steps towards her, his eyes dragging down her body unapologetically, a sly look if approval now lining his face.

"Nice," he hisses and she moves backwards with each step he takes, suddenly taken aback by the shift in his demeanour. He continues to step towards her until she has no choice but to stop just short of the wall.

A hand juts out, moving it in line with her head.

His face bows down, caging her against the wall, intimidating her.

"Jersey or NYPD?" he asks, his eyes dropping to her cleavage and she shivers, confusion spiralling at just how naturally he seems to be morphing into this role.

"NYPD," Tony tells him, tossing her badge towards Elliot and he catches it against his chest, flipping it open scanning the details.

"Huh," Elliot muses, before throwing it to the side clicking his jaw. "Lieutenant," he says with a smile, his face turning towards the man to their left. "You shouldn't have Tony."

Tony chuckles scratching his cheek.

"Check this one before you do her okay," he warns. "She's a feisty piece - gave us a lot of grief in the car. Boss wants us to be thorough, then we dump her tomorrow okay."

Olivia's legs nearly give out at the words.

She hears Elliot suck in a heavy breath before he moves his eye line slowly back towards Tony.

"Thanks for the heads up," he forces a smile, "but I've got this."

She feels it then, the mood shift in the room, the power dynamics interchanging, the panic setting in now as if it's radiating straight from Elliot's chest and slamming into hers.

"Chase.." Tony warns. "You know the rules ok, check her in front of me - then she's yours."

Elliot clears his throat. Nodding to himself more than anyone else before his eyes trail back towards Olivia, she sees no light then, just a vacant abyss in his irises before he clears his throat.

"Turn around," he tells her, his voice is low.

She takes a breath before she starts to slowly move, her legs practically jelly beneath her.

But her movements aren't fast enough it seems because he is grabbing her by the hips and pushing her up against the wall before she has a chance. Her mouth opens as her hands slap against brick just in time to steady herself. Her heart rate jolts into overdrive because his hold on her is hard and unforgiving. It's should just be for show but she can't escape the feeling that his anger with her is real. When his hands start to roam her fingernails dig into the rough seams of cement between bricks and she swallows as the sides of his hands move up the perimeter of her torso, feeling, digging – searching. His touch is unfamiliar, unsettling almost, and she yearns for just the slightest sense of familiarity that the man behind her is the partner she once knew.

As his hands skim the sides of her breasts her heart starts to thud in apprehension and she feels her fingers start to waver against brick. He doesn't need to be this firm she thinks – or this thorough, he's either plenty paranoid of being outed or he's been under for far too long.

He moves in closer then and goosebumps wrack across her body when she feels his breath against the back of her neck. Her teeth bore down in her lower lip as he slides his hands over her stomach, moving lower until his hands are sliding down her thighs, moving around the backs of her legs until the planes of his palms run over her ass before squeezing firmly.

"Mhmmm, quite an ass on this one," he groans into her hair.

Her eyes widen and she juts an elbow backwards in reflex instantly, unable to stifle her reaction to the infraction he just caused but he's too quick, grasping her forearm and pushing her palm back against brick. She feels his whole body then, pressing up against her, the firm wall of his chest, his crotch against her ass and his breath jagged against her ear. She waits him out as she succumbs to his strength, feeling as if he is going to speak, whisper a warning in her ear, give her some sort of reassurance that it's ok - anything.

Nothing.

"What did I tell you - feisty this one," Tony interjects. "We don't take any chances, check her bra," he warns.

Olivia's eyes draw to a close. He's already groped her ass so he'd have no qualms heading to the command. Elliot's hands move to her breasts without a moments thought and he's sliding over them, squeezing them, exhaling heavily into her locks and Olivia bucks against his touch, torn between the reflex to protect herself and the futile hope that Elliot's brash actions are just a cover. He moves a hand upward until it's slipping down the front of her dress, down the dip in her cleavage. She swallows as his bare fingers slide between her breasts and over the lace of her bra, causing her eyes to clamp closed.

Jesus Christ.

She can't hear the silent words. She can't hear him communicating like she'd expect him to. Go with it Liv, just trust me. She hears none of that, infact if she hadn't known it was him, she'd assume he was the lowlife rapist he was pretending to be.

"Between her legs," Tony says and she can tell he is getting off on this. That's when her knees practically give out on her. She can't do this. She can't. Not after Lewis. Not when the presence behind her retains no essence of her former partner. But if she were waiting for a timeout, that was the moment, because it's as if he knows then, that her limits had just reached an overwhelming standpoint and he is backing off. He slips his hand out of bra and she shivers as he lets up just marginally some of the pressure he has on her body.

"She's clean," he rasps towards Tony and she breathes through the silence, praying that this is the end of this torture.

"Between her legs," Tony insists. "Or I'll do it."

She hears a slight exhale behind her before Elliot is moving his hand under her dress from behind. When she feels his hand on the back of her bare upper thigh she clamps her legs together immediately but it's Elliot's knee she feels wedge itself between hers, driving them apart, moving her forward until her forehead knocks against brick. Her heart is thumping into overdrive now but it's that slight, minuscule sense of hesitation she'd felt from Elliot earlier that she's clinging onto. He'd registered her limits, that was unmistakeable, so she wades it out, trusts that she can rely on that if anything right now.

As his palm slides up her bare inner thigh she holds her breath as his fingers still just before they reach her panties. She feels the perspiration from the struggle, the nerves and it's just his breath against the nape of her neck that she focuses on as all movement ceases.

A few beats pass before she feels it, the hand on the wall covering hers, pressing hers against brick, slowly shifting until his thumb slides softly across hers, just once, but enough to indicate that yes, her partner is here.

TBC