Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.

"So that's it, then, I guess," Olivia sighed, placing her water glass back down on the cream-colored tablecloth. She folded her hands, twisting her fingers as she looked up at Elliot.

"I tried," he said with a small shrug. "He refused to talk to me, called me a bunch of names I could've arrested him for, and then he walked into Cragen's office and slammed the door in my face." He scraped his teeth over his bottom lip and shook his head. "Cragen still refused to sign off on his transfer, so for now, it's just...a couple of days, paid leave, to see if he can get his head back in the game." He cleared his throat, reaching slowly across the table, and took hold of one of her hands. He pulled on it, softly but demanding, and wrapped his fingers around it. "We aren't here to talk about Fin, though."

"No," she whispered with a small smile. "We're not." Both eyebrows rose and fell with a light huff, then. "I honestly can't believe we're here at all," she chuckled. "This place, it's...too nice for a couple of co-workers."

He tilted his head and smirked at her. "Exactly," he said. "I'm a little out of practice, here, and maybe I'm not up-to-date on the new ways of doing this, but...I'm pretty sure this is a date." He squeezed her hand and leaned a little closer to her. "Officially."

She pressed her lips together, still looking into his eyes. "You're doing just fine," she said, giving him a wink. She looked around the restaurant again, though, and her heart thudded. She never imagined being in a place like this, with Elliot of all people, for any reason other than an undercover gig.

"We're really here," he whispered, seemingly reading her mind, bringing her fingers up to his mouth. He kissed each of her knuckles and said, "I'm having a hard time believing it, too, but we are. This...this is happening."

She nodded. "I know it is," she said softly. She smiled at him, and all thoughts of Fin and work, and the shit-storm she knew was brewing, fell away.

The waiter came and went like a blur, taking food and wine back and forth from the kitchen to their table. Time passed too slowly and too quickly at once, the space between the moments filled with a lot of "first-date" conversation as they both consciously tried to avoid discussions about work, his children, their exes, or anything else that would make them second-guess or doubt what was truly happening.

After her last bite of cheesecake, playfully fed to her by Elliot, Olivia finally looked down at the table. "I can't remember the last time I smiled so much, for so long," she said, pressing her fingers against her sore cheeks. She snorted, then, noticing the candle that had been lit when they sat down was now nothing more than an inch of wick in a puddle of wax. She looked back up at him. "I honestly can't remember ever having a date this...incredible."

"Me either," he said on the remains of a laugh. "I guess...that means we make each other happy."

"Oh, we already knew that," she told him, looking up at him. "It's just, um, safe to admit it now."

He nodded, his head titled and a hazy look in his eyes. "I think we're overstaying our welcome," he said, jutting his chin in the direction of a slightly annoyed group of waiters and a rather impatient looking maitre d. "As much as I'm paying for this, you'd think they'd be a little less pissy." He chuckled as he glanced down at his watch. "Oh, uh...wow," he mumbled. "No wonder."

"What?" she asked, her broad smile still in place.

He grinned at her. "They closed an hour ago," he said sheepishly. He shoved his hand in his pocket, finally signaling a waiter that he was ready to pay. He counted out enough twenty-dollar bills to cover the bill and rightfully generous tip, and then shot to his feet, holding out his hand. When her fingers slipped into his palm, he pulled her to her feet and led her toward and through the restaurant's front doors. He laughed when he heard an immediate click behind him. "Did I tell you..." he paused, taking off his suit jacket and wrapping it around her, "How beautiful you are?"

She laughed, tossing her head back a bit. "Oh, please. This dress is as old as..."

"Not just tonight," he interrupted. "You're always beautiful." He began walking, tugging her along with him, in the direction of her apartment. "You're incredible." He shoved the hand not holding hers into the pocket of his pants. "I don't think I tell you that enough."

"I'm nothing special," she said almost shyly, keeping grip on his hand as they turned around the corner.

"Are you shitting me?" he chuckled. "The way you work with victims, how you just...give them hope and...God, with one word from you, you give them their lives back. It's the most incredible thing I've ever seen."

She smiled at him. "You're my partner," she said. "You don't think, just maybe, I work that way, that well, because of you?"

Smugly, he grinned, but he shook his head. "No, you'd be just as wonderful without me."

"God, no, I wouldn't," she whispered, grimacing suddenly. "Don't even joke about that."

"I'm not going anywhere," he promised her, pulling her up the front steps of her building. "I promise."

She nodded once as she fished her keys out of her handbag, walking with Elliot up the stairs to her floor. "Thank God for that," she finally said with a laugh.

As she opened her door, Elliot smoothed his hand down her back, trying to figure out how to say what he needed to say. He ran his hand up and down the red material, and then followed her into the apartment, let her lay his jacket and her bag on the nearest chair and kick off her shoes, but he stopped her before she could flick on the light. He pulled her arm just enough to get her to turn around, and he gave her a long, soft, slow kiss.

She kissed him back, her stunned hands wrapped around his tie, and with her eyes still closed she backed away from him. "Was that my kiss goodnight, already?"

"I hope not," he laughed, toeing off his shoes and kicking them into the corner where hers lay. "By the way, it doesn't matter how old that dress is, you know, you're gorgeous in it."

She rolled her eyes. "Enough with the compli..."

"No, Liv," he interrupted her. "I'm telling you...you are...the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and I mean it." He flicked a strand of her hair out of her eyes with one of his fingers. "You've got the most stunning brown eyes. I can see...everything...in your eyes. Your body...could start wars." He leaned over and whispered, "I'd fight them, and I'd win."

She laughed softly, blinking, and looked away from him.

"Hold on," he said, cupping her chin and pulling her back to look at him. "Don't do that. I'm not just saying this to work my way into bed with you, I'm being honest." He shrugged, almost defeated. "I don't think I've ever told you...what I really see when I look at you. What you...make me feel." He ran his free hand down his face as the other squeezed her hand again. "I look at you, Liv, and all the bullshit...it just goes away. When I think I'm losing grip, I look at you...and I know I can hold on a little longer. When I'm falling, I just have to look at you, and I know...I'm going to land on my feet and be just fucking fine, because you're there, and you're mine." He shrugged and pressed his lips together, shaking his head. "I know you weren't...not really...until tonight, but part me always thought of you as..."

"El," she said to silence him, her stunned eyes wet with tears, her heart thumping hard against her chest. "I was," she told him. "I am." She let her head drop against his chest. "You do that for me, too, you know," she admitted to him. "There are days when I don't want to get out of bed, but then I...I think about you, about your eyes, and your...your strength...and that's why..."

His lips stopped her words this time. The kiss was more insistent, more certain. "I know," he whispered as he pulled away, breathing a bit more heavily. "I guess, I just...I was trying to tell you..." He stopped talking, took both of her hands in his, and looked down at her with as much honesty and sincerity as any person had the right to have. "I love you."

She held his gaze, intensely, firmly, as she pulled him toward her, with her, backward, into the bedroom. She saw him move and did nothing to stop it, did not try to shift her weight or shy away. His lips covered hers and the force of his body rushing against hers was enough to topple them over, onto the mattress. She shivered, goose-bumps rising, as his chilly fingers danced along her hot skin, traveling under her dress, teasing at the silk and lace that hid beneath it. Her mind now blank, she moved just enough to give him permission, and she held her breath as she felt the thin, strappy material being tugged away from her body, down her thighs.

She knew exactly what was happening. She knew they both wanted this, needed this, and it was already better than any of the near-million times she'd imagined it. His lips never stopped kissing hers, as his fingers worked to unzip her deep-red dress.

He pulled away from her, then, with half her dress crumpled in his hand and a fresh-burning light in his eyes. "Liv," he whispered, and though he tried not to make his fear obvious, the name left his lips with a tremble.

She smoothed both of her hands up his back, over his chest, along his neck, until she was cupping his clenching jaw and tense cheeks. She smiled at him, the love in his eyes rivaling the devotion in hers. She pulled his head toward hers again, kissed him with more fire than she had before, and worked one hand downward to tug on his belt.

Is was all the affirmation he needed, and he pulled her body up a bit and began to slide the shimmery fabric down and off of her. He'd never been more grateful for his dexterity. He took a breath, and as he let her body ease back down onto the bed, he slowly opened his eyes. He swatted her hands away from his half-down pants, and he took her in. All of her. His eyes roved over every blessed inch of her naked body, the detective in him memorized every detail, every freckle and birthmark, while the man in him seethed with the need to bury his head between her thighs and take her to places he was certain no man ever had before, or ever would again. She was his, now. He would make that damn clear in a moment.

Her heart was racing too fast, too furiously, for her to sit still anymore, and with one great yank, she got his pants the rest of the way over his hips and heard his hearty chuckle as they slipped off of his ankles and onto the floor. She looked up at him again, her bottom lip gnashed between her teeth and her eyes both concerned and impatient.

He stared back into them as he ripped his shirt up and off, over his head, not caring that the action popped three buttons. He tossed it behind him, licked his lips, and moved slowly as he covered her body with his. He kissed her again, slowly, deeply, as his fingertips teased the topography of her. Over her hills, into her valleys, along every curve and dimple, until he felt her wriggling and heard her moans. He let his right hand trail along on more path, sliding between her legs, and his stunned gasp escaped just before a delicious moan.

She moaned, too, a bit lower, throatier, right into his open mouth as they kissed. As she felt him work two of his thick, calloused fingers into her, her fingers curled, and her nails sunk into his shoulder blades. She heard him mumble something against the skin of her neck, through his sucking and biting. "God,yes, Elliot," she returned.

He moved his lips from her throat to her lips, moved his hand from her body to the mattress, and shifted his weight slightly.

She gasped softly, her nails digging deeper into the skin of his back, and she gave a soft thrust of her hips, begging him.

Slowly, he pushed into her, a shaky moan leaving his lips and falling into her mouth as they kissed. With his next wave-like thrust, their world began spinning in a new direction, everything they'd known until now had come undone and had to be rebuilt in this moment. Each collision of their bodies and mouths solidified a shift in their universe, and at the moment, neither was concerned with the fallout that the morning after would certainly bring.

Peace and Love

Jo