A/N: Post ep for "Escape" (the one with Andy Eckerson – the old flame of Liv's). The writers practically THREW this story at anyone who's an EO shipper. I really like writing these from Liv's POV – 1st person. I know you guys like to put yourselves in her shoes. : ) So do I. Who wouldn't? By the way, let's just say that Elliot and Kathy are split up already. Just cuz. ; ) By the way – this is rated M for a reason, so if you have any issues with that, please skip it. R&R! XO, KJ

Disclaimer: Only my overactive imagination belongs to me.

He doesn't make me feel safe. He's an adrenaline junkie. He's a cop because it's a rush. Not because he wants to serve and protect. And, yeah, he's right. I used to get off on him chasing bad guys. And to tell you the truth, there's no fantasy quite like my partner in the middle of an interrogation. But not Andy. Elliot. Just the thought of how his jaw ticks when he's getting in a perp's face is enough to make me wet. And maybe that's why I'm here tonight. Sitting outside his apartment. Wanting to cross the line. Andy offered me a perfectly good date. A drink. One drink. In return, I offered him a perfectly lame excuse about insanity and needing stability. More like needing Stabler-ility. And insanity? Complicated? My life? Fuck. Isn't that the understatement of a lifetime? But here I am. Willing to complicate both our lives if only he'll let me. I send him a text message. Like we're in high school. Want to go to the prom? Christ. I tell him I'm downstairs. He texts me back. Tells me he'll be right down. Asks if I want to go for a walk. I would walk to the ends of the earth if that's where he was going. I tell him sure. No big deal, right? Fuck. I'm such a glutton for punishment.

He shows up downstairs, wearing black track pants, Nikes, and a grey hooded sweatshirt. He looks like a slob. But I think I might come just from the lazy smile on his handsome face. Dammit. Not seeing him all day makes me crazy.

"How'd the case with Eckerson go?" he asks as we start walking. I'm half tempted to spill my heart out on the sidewalk. Tell him everything. How scared I was that I'd die. How much I wished it was him calling the shots instead of Andy. How safe I felt when he was anywhere near me. How Andy had asked me out and I'd turned him down by telling him I needed Stabler. Stability. Needed stability. What I really wanted to say was that I couldn't have a drink with him because I'd rather be with Elliot. And I don't mean that platonically. Instead of telling Elliot all that, I just say "fine."

He stops walking and turns to me. "Cragen told me," he says.

"Then why'd you ask?" I snap. I don't know why I'm so… insane.

"Because I wanted to hear about it from you," he says, his hand on my arm.

"Who died and made you Huang?" I ask. I still have no idea why I'm being so venomous.

"Liv. Stop it."

"I'm sorry," I say automatically.

"Do you want to keep walking? Or do you want to go back to the apartment?" he asks.

We've barely walked two blocks. "Apartment," I say, barely a whisper. He nods and takes my hand. Nothing sexual about it, just a comfort thing. I grip his hand tightly as we turn and head back for his apartment.

We walk in silence the two blocks, his thumb brushing softly against mine.

Just a comfort thing.

We walk upstairs and I shrug out of my coat, leaving it and my shoes at the door.

"Ready to talk?" he asks after handing me a beer and taking one for himself. I take a long pull from the bottle and shake my head. Not yet. But he knows me. He gets me. I just need to sit. Hang out. Not think about the insanity. My insanity.

"How'd court go?" I ask.

"Fine," he says, nodding. "Indictment on all eight counts."

"Good," I say, mirroring his nod. I'm glad. Those little girls deserved justice and an indictment was a damn good start. "Andy asked me out," I blurt.

I can see a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Really?" he asks.

I nod again. "But I just wanted to come here," I say. He takes a long pull from his beer.

Yeah. Sorry. I'm a lot to handle sometimes.

He nods. "I'm glad you did," he says quietly. I nearly choke on my beer.

"Really?"

He nods. "I want you to feel like you can talk to me."

Oh. Not where my mind was going. God. I want to know what that beer tastes like on his tongue. He's sitting next to me. All I'd have to do is turn my head. He'd be right there. But I don't. For whatever reason. I just sit.

"Cragen said you guy the guy's conviction overturned."

After he threatened my life.

"Andy…" I begin. "He's not you," I say.

"He's a good cop, Liv. He had your back, I'm sure."

I shake my head. "I was so scared, Elliot." With that one admission, the pipe bursts and I begin to cry. He wraps his arm around me and holds me to his chest. "All Andy wanted was Mike dead. I really… I really don't know what he would have done. But the whole time," I pause to look up into his brilliant blue eyes. "The whole time I wished it was you calling the shots," I say.

Elliot rubs my back and tries his best to comfort me. "Sometimes… I just need to get away from all the insanity. And even though how I feel about you is part of the insanity, it's also part of my stability." As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I realize I could have just as well told him I love him. Shit. I press on, hoping he'll ignore me if he doesn't feel the same way, praying he'll do anything else if he does. "Sometimes I just need… to escape." I finish lamely. This wasn't how I planned for this to go.

"Let me be that for you," he whispers. I'm too stunned to speak. "Let me be your escape," he says.

Wow. I sit, motionless. I'm not sure what I should do, so I wait. I feel his strong presence next to me. His hand cups my cheek. He turns my head toward him and our faces are so close that if I breathe, we'll be kissing. His blue eyes look into mine and I know he can see my heart reflected there.

"Elliot," I sigh and then his mouth is on mine. Rational thought is a thing of the past.

His kiss makes me weak. I can tell the insanity of my life is attached to my feelings for this man. It wasn't always like that, it used to be all about the job. But somewhere along the line… I fell in love with him.

"Liv," he sighs. "If you don't…" I let my mouth open to invited a deeper kiss. He groans as his fingers slide into my hair. He'd been about to give me the chance to back out, but there's no way in hell I'm taking that chance. The beer tastes too good.

"Don't stop," I whisper into his mouth. The next thing I know, he's shifting me to my back, rolling me under him on the couch. He's the picture of sexy strength and grace as he runs the hand that isn't cradling my head down to the button on my jeans. He flicks it open and slides the zipper down. I wiggle my hips to try to encourage him to go faster. He laughs at my brazen gesture.

"Relax," he says.

"Easy for you to say," I mutter.

"This is supposed to be your escape, Liv. Just let go," he breathes. I, on the other hand, cannot breathe. You try breathing when the sexiest man you've ever seen has his hand inching toward the wettest spot on your body.

His hand slides below the waistband of my blue striped panties and teases my clit for a second. I shift my hips at just the right time that it forces him to push a couple fingers inside me. Holy mother of God that's good. He's kissing the side of my neck and slowly plunging his fingers into me and pulling them out again. I can feel his erection on my leg – hard and wanting in on the action. It occurs to me that I've never hand an orgasm fully clothed. But I'm damn sure about to.

"Elliot," I breathe.

"Right here, baby. Right here. Just let go. I've got you," he says. Those words and one more swipe of his thumb over my clit are all it takes for me to do just that. I come louder and shrieky-er than I ever have in my life, and Elliot does nothing to quiet me down. The neighbors are probably all awake and pissed.

"Feel better?" he asks, kissing me gently when I come back down.

"Mmmm," I murmur stroking my hands under his shirt. "Thank you for that," I reply, blushing.

"Anytime," he says.

"I was worried," I say.

"You were a hostage," he reminds me.

"Not that. This. I was worried about this."

"What do you mean?"

"I was outside," I mutter, blushing.

"I know. You called me."

"No. I was outside for a long time before I called you."

"How long?"

"Maybe a half-hour?" I squeak.

"Why? What's to worry about?"

"Uh, well. You're my partner. And my best friend. And it's been a long time since I was in high school, but I'm pretty sure that whole 'best friends falling in love' thing doesn't always work out."

"Falling in love, huh? Is that what we're doing?" he asks, the trademark smirk back in place. Cocky. Fucker.

"Maybe," I say, lying through my damn teeth. Falling? That would imply it was happening right now. I already fell approximately… how long have we been partners?

"Liv…" he begins. Oh good. The brush-off speech. My fave.

"If you are going to say anything that would potentially upset me, please don't. I've had a hard day."

"Olivia," he chuckles. "Do you ever listen? Or do you just talk?"

I'm sitting here, my eyes squeezed shut, hoping that if I don't look at him, maybe what he's going to say won't hurt as much. He's silent for a moment, giving me a chance to mouth off, and then he starts talking again.

"I could very easily fall in love with you, if you'd let me," he pauses for what feels like an eternity. "Maybe I already have," he whispers. "Or maybe, we'll just stay best friends."

I open one eye to look at him and he laughs.

"But the fact remains, that no matter what happens, I am always going to be here. I will always be your escape. Whether you need to cry, or laugh, or yell, or," he pauses again for dramatic effect. "Come," he whispers. My other eye flies open to see him grinning from ear to ear.

"I know," I say. "You have always been there for me in all of those other instances. Tonight was the first time you were there for me in the last one," I say, feeling a blush creep up my neck and cheeks.

"It's my favorite way to be there for you, Olivia. I'm not going to lie to you," he deadpans.

I can feel the heat in my face. I know I must be ten shades of red.

"BUT," I say. "That way could jeopardize everything. We've built an amazing partnership these last five years. Everyone thinks so. I don't want to mess that up."

He starts to say something and I hold up my hand so I can interrupt him. "But, I can't lie either, ever since you and Kathy got divorced, I have… fantasized," I whisper, "about it being more than a partnership."

"Fantasies, huh?" he asks. "What was I doing in these fantasies?"

"Being there for me. In that last way." I answer, blushing for about the hundredth time that night.

He smiles again. "So what do you say," he asks, kissing me sweetly, "that tonight, I… be there for you… as many times as you need…" he murmurs under his breath and kisses the side of my neck. "And we'll just… figure the rest of it out?"

--

A/N: I tried to end this a bunch of different ways, but this one is my favorite. Let me know what you think – but of course, no flames. After all your amazing reviews, my ego can't take it. : ) XO, Kinsey