A/N: Okay here is another post-Wildlife fic, but I think it is different enough to be posted. Just a few things to note:

1.) This mostly deals with Elliot and Olivia after their "encounter" so ignore Kathy in the beginning. I couldn't write it without her in there, but she's just there to create conflict.

2.) If you're questioning why Elliot's working out two days after being shot, or if it's even possible, please chalk it up to artistic liberties. (That and I personally think Elliot likes to push himself to the limit sometimes.)Thanks in advance for understanding. :)

3.)Lastly, this might not be a one-shot. That's all up to you reviewers! Please tell me what you think and if I should continue.

Thanks! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: If they were mine Wildlife would have gone a lot differently. As it is, I can only play with them after the fact because Mr. Wolf doesn't like to share.

Release

"Where are you going?" Kathy's voice was demanding despite having just woken up.

Elliot grimaced and shoved his legs into a pair of old sweatpants. He'd tried not to wake her. He'd tried to avoid the question she'd just asked. Couldn't she have let him go without that accusing tone just this once?

"Elliot?"

He sighed. Arguing with her now was bound to start a fight, something he didn't need. He needed release from all the thoughts stewing in his mind. If Kathy chose to pick a fight now he'd blow up at her and it would officially mark the end of their marriage.

"Shh, you'll wake him up," Elliot said, still sounding irritable although he tried to keep it from his voice. Eli had just gone back to sleep after twenty minutes of rocking in his father's sore arms.

"Elliot it's three in the morning. Where the hell are you going?" Her initial grogginess had dissipated.

"Where do you think?" he snapped.

She was quiet for several moments, but Elliot didn't regret his quick retort.

He sighed again as he pulled on a white wife beater and a NYPD sweatshirt. A stab of pain ran up his shoulder and across his chest from the movement, but he ignored it. He didn't want his wife to feel concerned for him. That was if she even cared enough to worry about him.

"I got called in," he lied.

"I didn't hear your phone ring," Kathy stated, her disbelief evident.

"Why do you have to question everything I do?" he asked as he stuffed his feet into his shoes. He was getting angry. "I got called in."

"You're supposed to be on sick leave for a week," she reminded him, sitting up in bed and crossing her arms.

"Yeah, well, shit happens," he mumbled, not feeling the need to explain himself.

"You're not exactly dressed for the office," Kathy reasoned.

"For the love of God," Elliot muttered under his breath. He turned to his wife and added, "Just drop it. I'll call you later to let you know when I'll be home." He knew he wouldn't, but there was still a sense of duty compelling him to say the words.

"Don't bother," Kathy spat at him. Before Elliot could respond she had gotten out of bed and shut herself up in the bathroom, closing the door with such force that Elliot thought his son would start screaming again. Thankfully, he stayed asleep.

Not caring to decode Kathy's statement, Elliot grabbed his coat, badge, phone and keys and headed for the precinct.

***

The gym was dead. Except for the security at the front desk, the place was empty. Elliot usually liked having the space to himself. It let him think and evaluate difficult situations. Many of his cases had been solved while he pounded dent marks into the punching bag. But tonight the emptiness consumed him and his thoughts assaulted him like the bullets that had entered his body two days earlier.

He slammed his taped fist into the side of the hanging bag. Elliot grunted at the pain that coursed through his upper body but he also reveled in it. The pain pushed all other thoughts from his mind. Even when he punched with his right arm, the aftershocks sent waves of discomfort through his torso.

But the blinding pain wasn't what stopped him from exerting his frustrations on the swinging bag after just a few hits. Each punch reverberated in his ears like Bushido banging on the door of his pseudo-apartment. And then Olivia's face jumped to the forethought of his brain. The fear and panic in her eyes was unforgettable.

Elliot groaned with different kinds of agony as he rested his forehead against the bag. He knew Olivia had been terrified; he had been too. But, in the end it had been Olivia who had saved both of their asses. She was the one who was able to keep a level head and come up with a plausible excuse for her presence. Elliot had simply stood there, barley able to come up with the lines necessary to play along with her clever charade.

He could blame it on her beautiful body all he wanted, but the truth was that he had been so terrified that something would happen to her he wasn't able to think straight. Then again, her body hadn't helped him think clearly either.

"What did I say?" he asked the barren walls as he moved over to the bench press. "'Guy's gotta eat?'" He chuckled at his own pathetic phrase.

"I've gotta say that's one of the lamest things a guy's said to me when I'm half naked and rubbing myself all over him."

Elliot nearly dropped the weighted bar on top of himself when he heard her voice.

Olivia's smile widened when she saw her partner struggle to replace the weights in their holding bar. She couldn't tell if he was blushing or if his face was red from the workout.

"Shouldn't you be home getting a mandatory rest?" she asked as she approached him.

His face immediately hardened. "I couldn't sleep."

As much as she wanted to ask if he had talked to Kathy, she decided not to press it. She didn't want to hear how they had or hadn't patched things up anyway. The former would only depress her and the latter would allow her mind to wander to formerly forbidden topics.

"So you decided to come here and tear your stitches open instead?" she questioned with a raised eyebrow.

Elliot looked down at the white gauze pads that covered his healing wounds. Bright red blood stained the dressings. He hadn't even noticed. The pain had become inconsequential.

When he looked back up Olivia was standing directly in front of him. Her proximity was just as intoxicating as it had been with her body pressed flush against him in that bedroom. Even being in the same building as her was enough to get him hot and bothered.

For years he had been able to control his desire for his partner, but starting the moment she emerged from the bathroom topless that had all changed. Her half-naked image would forever be burned into his eyelids. But he wasn't complaining.

"Sit," she ordered, pushing down on his good shoulder with slight pressure. He melted onto the bench beneath him, swinging one leg over so that there was one on both sides.

The pure heat emanating off Elliot washed over Olivia and caused her blood pressure to rise. She remembered how hot his skin had been against her own flesh. Their bodies could have provided all the warmth they'd need to get through the winter.

Olivia stepped across the room to retrieve the first-aid kit, trying to push those thoughts away.

She straddled the bench Elliot was sitting on and saw him shift back, moving away from her. His eyes fell to her open legs and it was Olivia's turn to blush. She knew what he was thinking because her mind was in the same fantasy world. She could practically feel her thighs resting on top of his as he moved beneath her. Although her blush deepened at the thought, she refused to shy away from him. She smiled and eyed the wife beater he was sporting.

"You gonna take that off or am I gonna have to do it for you?" She gave him her most flirtatious smile and fingered the hem of his shirt.

Did she really just hit on him? She hadn't meant to, it just slipped out.

Elliot recoiled again, but his back hit the bar of the bench press and he couldn't go any farther. Olivia scooted forward until their knees were touching, effectively cornering him. She gave him a pointed look that told him she wasn't going to ask twice.

"Liv…I-I can ch-change my own bandages," he stammered. He was cute when he was flustered and Olivia couldn't help but smirk.

She held up the gauze and tape in her hands. "Well, seeing as I've got the kit, you're either going to have to fight me or stop being so stubborn." Olivia let her gaze move from his eyes to his shoulder and her smirk turned devious. "And I'm not below fighting an injured man. Especially you."

Elliot smiled at her insistence and tried to relax, but his partner's next actions completely thwarted his attempts. Olivia bent forward until her lips grazed against his ear. He had to bite his lip to keep back a groan. The scent of her shampoo tickled his nose and did dangerous things to his mind.

"Take it off Stabler."

When she backed away Elliot had to fight the urge to grab her and do something foolish. Like kiss her. Never had a command been so arousing. He followed her order, unable to keep back a grunt of pain.

Once the shirt was discarded Elliot waited for Olivia to make some snide remark about how bad he looked. But her eyes surprised him. Remorse filled the brown pools and he felt compelled to reassure her that he was okay.

"Liv—"

He choked on his words as she reached out and slowly peeled off the bandage from his bicep. It was the smaller of the two wounds, but it still looked unpleasant. The circular hole was seeping blood and was surrounded by a large black and blue mark barely hidden by the gauze.

"Oh Elliot…"she whispered and he swore there were tears in her eyes.

Her fingers trembled as she traced the outline of the wound and then the surrounding bruise. Her touch was so soft that Elliot wasn't even sure she was touching him. It felt like her fingers were floating above his skin and brushing the tiny hairs on his arm. Still, the tenderness she was showing caused his breath to hitch in his throat.

"I'm sorry." The words were hardly audible, but Elliot heard them as clear as he heard his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

"Don't be," was all he could manage.

Olivia stopped her hands and looked back to his eyes. A small smile played on his lips and it infuriated her beyond all reason. This was not a laughing matter. It wasn't humorous in the remotest sense.

"How can you say that? I got you shot," she said, her voice still hoarse from emotion despite her spike of anger.

Elliot's eyes softened and she couldn't look at him directly. She looked down at the small stretch of bench between them. The soft leather pad was cracked from use and had a tear showing the cotton filling. She fingered the stuffing while trying to hold back her tears.

"You did not get me shot," he told her gently.

"Yes I did."

He knew her guilty conscience wouldn't back down, so—instead of trying to convince her she was wrong—he did the next best thing that he could think of.

"Fine then. I forgive you."

Her head snapped up so fast that he thought she might have given herself whiplash.

"What?" she said breathlessly.

"I forgive you."

She shook her head. "Don't you realize what could've happened?"

"Yes."

Olivia looked at him like she didn't believe him. "Y-you could've…died. Because of me."

"You're the reason I'm alive."

"You're missing the point," she informed him, anger lacing her words.

"No, you are."

Olivia felt she didn't deserve his forgiveness. He could have died that night and it would have been all her fault. She couldn't get past that. She didn't think she ever would.

Elliot reached between them and took her hands in his, squeezing them to show her he was sincere in his sentiments. He wasn't sure how he wanted to get rid of the pout on her face; it was between reassuring her and kissing her senseless. His own guilty conscience forced him to do the former.

"Olivia," Elliot began, waiting until she met his eyes, "I don't want you to blame yourself for any of this. If you hadn't come, I might be dead right now."

"How do you come to that conclusion?" she interjected, looking truly confused.

He let a small smile flash in her direction. "C'mon let's face it. I'm horrible at undercover gigs. Bushido would've figured it out and shot me eventually."

Although her complexion paled slightly at the possibility she diffused a little.

"Yeah, you are pretty crappy at faking it," she agreed.

He laughed and Olivia let herself chuckle too. The tense moment had passed and they were back on familiar ground.

"Sorry if I can't come up with snappy comments on the spot," Elliot remarked, letting go of her hands.

She truly laughed then. His heartbeat increased, his chest swelling with the enchanting sound. "Seriously El, 'Guy's gotta eat?' What were you thinking?"

He didn't want to tell her exactly what he had been thinking when he'd said that, but his cheeks felt heated again. Instead of answering he turned the tables on her. "Well where'd you learn to play such a convincing hooker?" he teased.

She punched him lightly on his good arm and winked at him. "Wouldn't you like to know," she shot right back, that devilish grin returning. "Now let me fix you up."

Olivia tried to grab the other bandage, but Elliot stopped her. "That one's worse," he warned.

His hand circling her wrist addled her brain, but she pushed through the hazy thoughts to form a response. "I'm prepared," she told him seriously.

He shook his head. "No, I don't want you to relapse into Guilty Benson."

She glared at him. "Then I'll make it quick so that doesn't happen," she retorted.

Without further warning Olivia grabbed the corner of the gauze and ripped off the bandage in one swift motion. Elliot's grip on her wrist tightened with the shock from the pain, but he was quick to recover.

"Christ Liv!" he swore under his breath.

Olivia suppressed a laugh. "I never said it would be quick and painless. Just quick."

She didn't want to cause him pain but she had a feeling that he was embellishing. His eyes weren't glazed with pain or anger. He actually looked amused.

"You're gonna pay for that," he said as he rotated his shoulder to try and shrug off the lingering sting.

"I'll just deduct it from what you owe me for my services on Tuesday night," she told him as she looked over his other wound. Her smile faded quickly.

Elliot was right, this one was worse. The bruise was angrier than the one on his bicep which was probably caused by his workout and the other physical activities he wasn't supposed to be performing. She went to work on his shoulder wound, gently cleaning the area with a wet cloth she had dampened with water from his bottle.

Once the blood was wiped away she took the bottle of peroxide from the kit and shook it in front of him. He was watching her with an unreadable expression. "This might sting," she cautioned.

"Go ahead."

She would have done it with or without his permission. Olivia poured a small amount over the wound, catching the runoff that ran down his bare chest with the bloodied cloth. He hissed in response.

"Oh stop being such a baby," she laughed.

"Well, next time you're injured I'm gonna pour peroxide on your open wounds and see if you like it," he joked. He'd never wish harm on her and she knew it.

"Deal," she told him, pouring more of the clear liquid on his skin. The bubbles intrigued her.

"Aren't you done yet?" he asked with a slight grimace.

She caught his expression and her smile grew. "Elliot it doesn't hurt that much. And it's still bubbling so it's not done cleaning."

"Fine," he huffed.

Olivia tipped the bottle again. This time as the cleaning agent fizzed around the hole Olivia bent forward and blew on the area. Elliot tensed underneath her as she continued to blow a steady stream of air over the stitched bullet hole.

"Better?" she asked after taking a much needed breath.

He nodded slightly, unable to take his eyes off of his beautiful partner.

"Good," she exclaimed before repeating the process for the wound on his bicep.

She put fresh gauze over his injuries and taped them in place. Olivia noticed a trail of peroxide that had escaped the cloth barrier. It ran down the front of Elliot's bare chest before disappearing into the waistband of his sweatpants.

Elliot's head was spinning. Olivia's treatment was driving him to distraction. The air she blew on his body caused him to visualize all the other things she could do with her mouth and just like that his desire for her returned.

He shut his eyes in an attempt to hide the passion he felt coursing through his body as his partner took a cloth and followed the streak of wetness down his chest. He sincerely hoped she didn't see the erection that was growing uncomfortably in his pants.

There was no mistaking the lump in Elliot's sweatpants. Olivia bit her lip as she stared at it. She couldn't help but look. Besides, Elliot's eyes were closed and she had always been curious. Since Tuesday—when his arousal had been obvious against her hip—she had wanted to see it. Touch it.

Elliot dared to peek at her and saw that she was looking between his legs. He cleared his throat, but not in an objectionable way. He couldn't get words past the frog in his throat.

But the noise startled her out of her observation. Her head snapped up again, this time colliding with his chin.

"Ow," they both exclaimed. Elliot rubbed his jaw. Olivia massaged the top of her head.

"Sorry," she apologized.

"S'okay," he replied.

Their eyes met and their thoughts communicated with each other, just as they always did. The unspoken desire passed between them like electric currents. Olivia turned red and broke the connection first.

"Uh, I'm gonna hit the showers," she muttered as she put away the first aid kit and grabbed her gym bag.

It hadn't even occurred to Elliot that she had come to the precinct to work out. He didn't know what to say about that or her abrupt decision to leave.

"Showers? But you didn't even work up a sweat," he said aloud.

She turned back when she reached the door and gave him another heart-stopping smile. Elliot's heart pounded against his ribcage, sending pain through his upper body.

"I know," Olivia said before disappearing into the women's locker room.

Okay so this is where you (hopefully) tell me what you think of it and if it has any potential to grow into something bigger. If you have any ideas on where it should go, I'm more than happy to listen. :) I aim to please people. I guess the main question if I continue is whether or not it should be EO or EO friendship. At this point, it could go both ways. It all rests in your hands! I'll be waiting for your reviews with unrational eagerness! :D Happy--early--Thanksgiving everyone!