Chapter Text
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Elliot stood outside Olivia’s apartment for the first time in more than a month, palms sweating and heart pounding, an uneasy feeling lodged solidly in his gut. She wasn't expecting him because he hadn't wanted to make plans and then have them fall through, but he needed to see her. It had already been a week since he got back, and everything had seemed so pressing at the time – the case, Joey’s detox, his mother, Eli. But now that he was finally here, it just felt wrong. Like he’d put her last, that he hadn't prioritized her, and that wasn't how he felt at all. He had been short tempered and withdrawn at work and at home, his chest tight and head halfway up his ass, the off kilter feeling when he couldn't be near her spreading out and taking up all the space in his body, making it hard to breathe, much less think clearly.
They’d been in touch since the raid on the honey farm. Elliot had called her as soon as he could, explained that he was going to be tied up for a few days with the case and with Joey. In typical Olivia fashion, she encouraged him to do whatever he needed to do. To take care of work and his family.
“It sounds like we both have some things we still need to work through. We can catch up when things slow down,” she assured him, though he didn't like the sound of it.
He had things he needed to do, things that were pressing, but he didn't have anything to work through. At least, not where Olivia was concerned. He knew exactly what he wanted their future to look like, and he had thought they were in a good place when he left. A great place, even, considering she hadn’t run for the hills the moment Noah asked if Elliot was moving in.
“How’d the trial go?” he asked quietly, keeping an eye out for the prying eyes and ears of his boss and the rest of his team.
“It was…rocky, but he’s in prison.”
Something in her voice – he couldn't tell if it was distance or distraction – caught his attention, put him on high alert, but he was due in interrogation, and he didn't have time to analyze it. There never seemed to be enough time.
“I need to go,” she told him softly.
“Wait. How’s Noah?”
“He's good. Just ready for summer break.”
“Liv, I –”
He heard her cover the receiver, her voice muffling momentarily, and then, “I really have to go. Call me when you can.”
That was almost a week ago, the days and nights in between a never ending barrage of crises, each one more urgent than the last.
But she really had sounded good when she called him two days ago. Even though her voice had been soft and hesitant, especially at first, she hadn’t seemed angry or hurt at his continued absence.
The reason for her call caught him off guard, the admission that she’d lent the necklace he'd given her to Maddie Flynn’s mother, settled into a tight ball of uncertainty. On the one hand, it was quintessential Olivia, selfless compassion driving her to give anything, everything, to the victims and their families. But Elliot wished she would realize that she was allowed to keep some things for herself. That she deserved them as much as anyone. Then he thought about the mistakes he’d made with the compass. How it was too big, for starters. It was flashy in a way Olivia wasn't, but in his defense, it really had looked smaller in his hand than it did on her neck. And it needed to be exactly that big to house the diamonds, to allow them to float freely. Diamonds that were now around the neck of some woman Elliot had never even met.
It was his own fault. He shouldn't have given it to her in a crumpled paper bag, but he hadn’t wanted to scare her. And he should have been more clear when she asked if it was supposed to lead her somewhere. To something. Eileen Flynn probably wouldn't be wearing a damn necklace that cost him more than he would ever admit if he had manned up and answered honestly. If he had told Olivia from the beginning that it wasn't just his way of apologizing for leaving again when she was starting to tentatively allow him back into her life. If he had told her how much she meant to him, told her he hoped it would lead her not just to peace and happiness but to him. But he had chickened out because he always chickened out where she was concerned. It was why he never returned any of her calls all those years ago, and it was why he couldn't bring himself to tell her what he wanted from her now.
But straightforward had never been their thing. It wasn't how they operated, and it sure as hell wasn't how they communicated. Theirs was a relationship built more around what wasn’t said and eye contact that would be too intense with anyone else. And the necklace had been a gift, hers to do with it what she pleased. He liked that she knew he’d understand, although a little part of him was hurt that she hadn't intuitively understood where he was coming from when he’d given it to her.
But when he asked if she had gotten the flowers he’d sent while he was gone, he could hear the smile in her voice.
“I did. It’s been nice to have something pretty to look at in my office.”
“What? Fin’s not pretty enough for you?”
That drew a rare, beautiful laugh, and even though he was neck deep in family drama again, even though she would have to be crazy to get further involved with him and the insanity that came with him, the words were right there on the tip of his tongue: Forget the necklace. Just move in with me. Or ask me to move in with you. Whatever you want. Whatever you can handle. I’ll buy you something else, something more your style. Anything you want. Just give me the chance to hear your voice every day for the rest of my life.
But he couldn't say any of those things because he couldn't rush her. And he knew she didn't think he was steady enough to know what he wanted, that she thought he was still running from his grief and his guilt and his past. That he still hadn't dealt with his feelings about Kathy’s death. In some ways, Olivia wasn't wrong. He could spend a lifetime trying to process all of that and still not be completely healed from it, but that didn't mean he wasn't ready to commit to a relationship with her. In fact, as complicated as it was, she was the only woman he could ever see himself with. It was her or no one. He knew it, his kids knew it, and his mother knew it. But Olivia probably wasn't ready to hear it yet. Elliot wasn't sure she ever would be because it had been months of them inching closer, her starting to let him in, and then him disappearing on her again for weeks at a time. Based on how tentative she’d sounded when she last called, he thought his most recent absence may have set them back even further. So he would wait. He would bide his time. He would follow her lead.
It wasn't like he could push her to move forward now, anyway. Not when Eli had knocked up his girlfriend and the two of them had dropped out of school and moved into Elliot’s apartment. Jesus Christ. Why did his life always have to be such a fucking mess? Olivia had only recently started trusting him with Noah, with her perfect, innocent son, the one she had raised single-handedly all while assuming command of the squad she’d once worked alongside. How was he supposed to tell her that his son, the one she’d risked her life to bring safely into this world, was going to be a teen dad mere months after Olivia herself called Elliot out for not having the safe sex talk with him?
He was fucking up with his own kids left and right, floundering miserably when he engaged but spending most of his time avoiding them altogether. There was no way Olivia would want him near Noah once she found out. It had been easier to confess it to Kathy at her gravesite, to face the imagined disappointment of his late wife, than it was going to be to see it written all over Olivia’s face.
For two years he’d been telling Olivia that he wanted to find balance, but deep down, Elliot wasn't sure he even knew the meaning of the word. All he knew, all he’d ever really known, was chaos. He felt dizzy and nauseous, like the world was spinning too fast, and he was standing still, never able to get his bearings. That's why he liked the UC jobs. They offered him a reprieve from the turmoil of his personal life – from his kids and his family, his grief and his guilt. From all the things it felt like he’d never really had a choice in. From having to figure out for the first time in his life who the fuck he really was.
Sometimes he wasn't sure he even knew who he wanted to be, but he knew who he wanted to figure it out with. As he stood there torn between knocking and using his key, walking through that door and chickening out, he was overcome again by the weight of it all. The burdens and responsibilities. The past and the future. It was all so much, too much, and more than anything, he felt adrift in a present where he didn't recognize any of the landmarks.
He had to pull it together. He couldn't walk through that door feeling like this or looking like this, ears ringing and nerves jangling, eyes bloodshot and tears imminent. But he couldn't force himself to turn away, either, because the only person who could deliver him from this hell was on the other side. Just the thought of looking into her eyes, reaching for her, just resting in her arms for a few hours, was enough to fortify him.
Maybe he didn't have to tell her about Eli tonight. Maybe it could wait. Maybe he would get lucky and they could have a quiet night to decompress before getting into any of what had happened to either of them over the past several weeks.
But luck wasn't on his side because it never was.
Before he could make a decision, Olivia’s front door opened, and voices he recognized filled the space.
“You’ll talk to him, though, right?” Maureen cajoled beseechingly.
Olivia hedged, avoiding a direct answer. “If and when he's ready to talk about it, I’m sure he’ll bring it up.”
“It could take Dad forever to bring it up! He's just…ignoring it.”
“What the hell’s going on here?” Elliot rumbled, looking into the startled eyes of not one but all three of his daughters.
“Dad!” Kathleen exclaimed, obviously as startled as he was.
“What are you doing here?” he asked gruffly, suspicion growing by the second.
“We were just catching up with Olivia.” Elizabeth was the quietest of his kids, but she was also the coolest under pressure. Elliot had never been able to ferret information out of her like he had her siblings.
“Right.”
“We wanted Olivia’s advice.” Kathleen immediately tried to placate him. “It’s not like the intervention. We’re just worried about Eli. He's so young. He needs to know he still has options. That we all love him and support him and…”
Elliot didn't hear the rest of it because his eyes finally locked onto Olivia’s, and everything slowed down. The ground beneath his feet steadied, the world finally coming into focus.
“Hi,” he whispered, taking in the soft leggings and slightly fitted v-neck shirt that showed just enough cleavage to pique his interest. Choosing not to focus on how wrong it felt to see her without the compass in its usual resting place, Elliot dropped his eyes to her bare feet, noting that the dark polish she’d favored through the winter had given way to something light and feminine. He had the sudden urge to toss his kids out so he could wrap himself around her and just…soak up her strength and let some of her steady, quiet certitude seep into the hollow places of his soul.
Kathleen and Maureen’s voices trailed off, stopped trying to explain themselves, as Elliot brushed past them, drawn to Olivia like a magnet.
He stopped just before her, dropping his forehead to hers, too choked up to say anything. It had been a long six weeks.
“There you are,” she murmured. “I was wondering when you were going to show up.”
He fought back the urge to cry. “I'm sorry. I just…”
“I know,” she whispered. “It's okay.”
“It's not.”
“But it will be,” she assured him, her hands making their way up to cup his face.
He took it as permission, maybe even an invitation of sorts, and settled his hands at her waist, thumbs brushing her lower abdomen.
His eyes drifted closed, reveling in the feel of her fingertips along his jaw.
“It's time to lose the beard,” she announced softly, and even though he’d trimmed it, he didn't disagree.
“I know.”
“So what's in the bag?” she asked.
“What? Oh. I, uh, I stopped by that dessert place Noah likes. Got his favorite.”
She moved her hands to his upper arms and put a little distance between them. “You're gone for over a month, and it's my kid you're trying to bribe?”
His face finally tipped into a tired smile. “Don't worry. There's something in there for you, too.”
Olivia slipped the larger of the two bags from his arm and peeked inside. “A whole cheesecake, Elliot? Really?”
“Noah said you always get a slice when you take him there.”
“What? No cheesecake for us?” Elizabeth cracked. “I see how it is, Dad.”
“I didn't exactly think you would be here.”
Olivia gave his forearm a squeeze but aimed her words at his kids. “Since you're all here, stay and have some. Visit with your dad.”
“Mo probably has to get back to the boys, but Liz and I could stay for a while. If that's okay.” Kathleen glanced at him uneasily.
“It's Liv’s cheesecake. If she’s willing to share…”
“I'm always willing to share with you guys,” Olivia assured his daughters warmly.
Maureen had never liked not being on the forefront of any family happenings. “If I text Carl, he can put the boys to bed.”
Olivia handed the bag of desserts to Elizabeth. “Why don't you get some plates and forks out? Kathleen, there should be a couple of bottles of Riesling in the kitchen if you want to open one. El, have you eaten?”
“I’m okay.”
“The girls brought street tacos. There are plenty left over.”
He watched his daughters file back towards the kitchen, but before Olivia could bring up the rear, Elliot reached for her, dragging her against him for a long, desperate hug.
Inhaling the scent that was uniquely her, he choked out, “I should've come as soon as I got back.”
“Elliot.”
“I can do better. I don't want you to feel like I don't have time for you.”
“Elliot. You're here now. And I'm not upset with you.”
“I’m sorry the girls are trying to drag you into our drama.”
“I honestly like that they came to me. They haven't reached out as much these past couple of years. I've missed them.”
Elliot thought about that, the fact that his kids had stayed in touch with Olivia during the years he hadn't. Guilt shot through him again, not just for how he’d abandoned her but for his behavior that first year he was back. He didn't know how to tell her that he’d warned the kids away after the intervention, that he was the reason they’d been so scarce the last few years.
“They’ve missed you, too. I should probably go ahead and confess that I told them to back off.”
Olivia pulled away from him, eyebrows drawn together in a worried expression. “Recently?”
“No, of course not.”
“After the intervention? When you told me to back off, too?”
“Not long after that. I was just so messed up, you know? I didn't know how pervasive the threat was. And I wasn't thinking clearly, but I knew I couldn't let you get too close.”
“Because you felt guilty for what you said in front of all the kids?”
“Maybe that was a small part of it. But more than anything, I just…couldn't risk you and the kids becoming the next target, you know?”
She kept her eyes trained on his, but he could see her processing, weighing his words and trying to fit the pieces together. Finally, she nodded.
“I'm glad you told me.”
“It feels like we’ve wasted so much time, that we can never get on the same page.”
“I think maybe it had to be this way. That this is the first time we’ve both been…ready.”
The tension in his chest loosened for the first time in over a month.
“Where's Noah?”
“Phoebe was working, and Fin had Jayden tonight, so he bribed Noah to stay over and play video games.”
“Who’s Jayden?”
“Ken's son.”
“Fin’s a grandpa?” Elliot struggled to wrap his brain around it, but it shouldn't have surprised him. His youngest wasn't far from making him a grandfather for the third time, and that sure as hell hadn't been on his 2024 bingo card.
“You’re really in no position to judge, El.”
“I'm not. I’m just…feeling my age tonight.”
“Well, the beard isn't helping matters at this point.”
“I said I would shave it.”
Her lips quirked into a small smile. “Maybe I should take it out for one last spin before you do.” Her voice dropped lower. “You can…do that thing I like once the girls leave.”
“I’ll throw them out and do you right now. Whatever you want. Just say the word.”
“I already promised them cheesecake.”
He stepped into her space again. “To hell with the cheesecake. They can take the whole thing with them.”
“Let’s not be hasty. I haven't even had any yet.”
“I can buy you another for breakfast,” he promised.
She pressed her temple against his jaw, like she was as weary and as desperate for solace as he was.
The sex between them was good, phenomenal even, especially considering their ages, but these quiet moments of comfort were his favorite.
He thought maybe she was feeling the same way because she sighed contentedly. “I'm glad you came over tonight.”
“Me, too, Liv.”
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Eli was so different from his older siblings, both in looks and in temperament. Sometimes he reminded Olivia of herself, always a little on the fringe of things. He was also quick to call his father out when he thought it warranted. The other kids used to be, but it seemed that the decade away and the toll their mother's death had taken on Elliot had made them more reticent in that regard.
Olivia assumed that was why the girls had come to her about Eli’s current situation, and while she was also gun shy about calling Elliot out these days, she agreed with his daughters. Becky may have been pregnant, and she and Eli may already have decided to continue that pregnancy, but that shouldn't automatically mean Eli had to drop out of college and follow in his father's footsteps.
Olivia could only imagine what was going through Elliot’s head right now. She knew he loved every one of his kids with every fiber of his being, that he thought each of them had been a blessing. They’d never talked about it, not officially, but she knew him. She had always suspected his feelings regarding the timing of those blessings weren't so cut and dry, so Eli’s big news had probably hit his father like a sucker punch to the solar plexus. And that, along with everything else he'd been through the past few weeks, explained Elliot’s quietly resigned mood tonight. He was likely still reeling, and it wouldn't surprise Olivia if he was blaming himself and feeling like something of a failure as a father because no matter how much of a blessing a new baby was, no parent wanted that for their own baby at such a young age.
Elliot was quiet during cheesecake, and after he walked them out, he cornered Olivia in the kitchen and immediately dropped his head, pressing his lips to the now empty space near her collarbone, lingering there for longer than Olivia expected.
“You okay?” she asked softly.
“Mmm. Just thinking.”
“About?”
He shrugged, not lifting his head. “I don't know. Happiness. Whether it's even possible after all the shit we’ve been through. Maybe you're right not to want it.”
Olivia wasn't sure what to say to that, but she suddenly felt uneasy about it – lending the necklace he’d gifted her to someone else.
“You have a lot going on, but it will get better, El. And you know, happiness doesn't mean anyone’s life is perfect. Maybe we can only know real joy in contrast to its opposite. And for the record, I never said I didn't want it. It's just…never come easily for me.”
When he remained silent, eyes pinned not on her face or her breasts but on the bare skin between the two, the certainty that he was bothered by the necklace’s absence permeated Olivia’s chest, anxiety spreading throughout her body like spidery tendrils, reaching for her extremities. Oh, god. She’d hurt his feelings.
When he’d given it to her, the compass had seemed like a placeholder. An apology for leaving again. Maybe even a promise that he would be back this time. And he had come come back. He’d come back when she was feeling beaten down and ineffective, when she was questioning everything she’d done with her life and whether it even made a difference at all. Whether it had all been worth it. And Elliot’s physical presence these past several months may not have been frequent or consistent, but knowing she could reach out, knowing he would come if she really did need him, had bolstered her. Given her the strength to face things she’d avoided for decades. And in the midst of that, she’d felt like the two of them were building something that could maybe, someday, resemble something akin to a shared life. Something that could maybe, one day, even feel like…happiness. While she would never be an open book, Olivia no longer had the urge to run or shut him out when he got too close. A vague picture had taken up residence in the periphery of her mind of a life beyond the job. While she was nowhere near ready, the thought of retirement didn't immediately send her spiraling into an existential crisis accompanied by a cold but clammy full-body sweat. She had even started to think that she should do it on her terms, that she should do it before she hit mandatory. And though she would never admit it to anyone, Elliot was the reason for that.
She had a lot of regrets, the biggest one being that she hadn't put a bullet in William Lewis’ head the moment she got her hands on that gun in the beach house. But there were others. She regretted isolating herself to the point where it felt like her life could only encompass her career and motherhood. She hated that Ed had died knowing she’d chosen the job over him, feeling like he didn't matter enough for her to carve out room in her life for him and his dreams to be part of it. She didn't want to make those mistakes again because Elliot was right. Life was too precious, and they both knew tomorrow was never guaranteed.
So in light of all that, this thought had taken shape in Olivia's mind that no matter what their relationship looked like in a few years, Olivia would probably retire when Elliot did because that felt right. Maybe he would go until he hit mandatory, and maybe he wouldn't, but she knew now that she definitely wouldn't because the job shouldn't be everything. She was more passionate about it than most. It was a calling, and it was important, but it wasn't everything. She was learning too late that it was okay sometimes to leave it until morning. Her son was only a year away from high school, and she'd missed too much already. Elliot wasn't the only one who needed to find balance, and in some ways, Olivia thought she could stand to be more like him. They both hid behind the job rather than dealing with their own shit, but at least Elliot didn't always keep his emotions on such a tight leash. Maybe he hadn't been the best husband, but at least he’d fought for his marriage. He’d built something with his childhood sweetheart. He’d taken vows, til death do us part, and he’d seen it through. Olivia had only ever vowed to do her job, which she still fucked up more often than she cared to admit, and she’d sworn before Judge Linden to raise Noah as her own, which of course she had, but she'd let his nanny and sitters do more of the heavy lifting than she probably should have. There were many nights she could have gone home and hadn't because the loneliness and isolation she felt after Noah was asleep were too much to handle. She’d certainly never thought seriously about committing to a relationship and actually trying to make it work. Until now.
Now she found herself wanting it all. Wanting to be better at the job. A better, more present mother to Noah. And she wanted whatever this was with Elliot to work.
So in her mind, the compass had more than served its purpose, and that's why she hadn’t thought twice about lending it to Eileen Flynn.
But suddenly, she saw it all differently. Saw it through Elliot’s eyes rather than her own. He’d picked out a gift specifically for her, a thoughtful gift that told her he’d been paying attention these past few years to the things in her life from which she drew comfort, the things that grounded her. He told her he had been thinking about how precious life was. At the time, she assumed he was triggered again over Kathy’s death, that it was compounded by Whelan’s death and Olivia getting shot, and she knew that was part of it. But he had been reaching for Olivia for more than a year before that, trying desperately to find his way back to her in any way she’d let him. And the look on his face that day in her office told her that he was, if not giving up, at least putting it all in her hands. That he didn’t have the fortitude to fight for much of anything anymore, but he had still taken the time to come see her in person, to make sure she knew he wasn't just abandoning her again and that he wished her peace, love, and happiness.
Now I’ll treasure it, he’d said of the ridiculous little Christmas ornament she’d forced upon him in the middle of May. And in his mind, she hadn't cared enough about his gift, his incredibly deliberate and thoughtful gift, to even hold onto it.
Even the girls had commented on it earlier in the evening.
“You're not wearing your compass,” Elizabeth noted when they sat down to eat.
“Oh, I passed it on to a friend who was having a hard time.”
Kathleen choked on a taco, launching herself into a coughing fit.
Maureen passed her sister a napkin, along with a death glare and a hissed whisper of, “What is wrong with you?”
“Nothing. It just went down the wrong way.”
Everyone was quiet for a long moment, but Elizabeth finally asked, “Does Dad know?”
“About what?”
“You know. That you gave the necklace away.”
Olivia wiped her mouth. “Well, for starters, I didn't give it away. I lent it to someone who needed help believing that..healing was possible after a terrible tragedy. And yes, of course I told your father.” She glanced between the three younger women. “I didn't realize any of you even knew where the necklace came from.”
Kathleen finally regained her ability to speak without coughing. “Well, Dad was pretty proud of himself for that purchase. He's not usually the type to pick out jewelry.”
“What do you mean?” Maureen teased. “He got all of us those gaudy necklaces when we graduated college.”
“True,” Kathleen acquiesced. “But I think that was at grandma’s insistence. She has deplorable taste in jewelry. Have you ever looked inside her jewelry box?”
“I have,” Elizabeth replied, “and I’m really glad you’re the favorite. Hopefully, she’ll leave the blingier pieces to you when she dies.”
“Lizzie!” Maureen scolded. “But also, same.”
The conversation had moved on after that, the girls eager to fill Olivia in on Eli’s current predicament, and Olivia hadn’t thought much about it until now, when Elliot was standing before her looking defeated and tired. Like he wished he had never even bothered with the damn necklace. Like he wished he had never even bothered with her and all the extra baggage that came with her. Like he was here to let her down gently.
When Elliot didn't respond at all to her attempts to soothe him, Olivia fought down the rising tide of panic, desperately needing to explain herself. It was obvious now that he hadn't really understood.
“About the necklace,” she said huskily.
“It's not about the necklace.” He shook his head. “It's…can we just…be together tonight before we get into all the rest of it? Could we do that? Can we just have a quiet night?”
Olivia swallowed hard, the bitter sting of bile inching its way up the back of her throat. The resignation she sensed in him seized her ability to think rationally. Tears pricked her eyes, but she fought those back, too.
“Are you…is this…?”
He finally dragged his eyes up to hers. “Liv,” he said gently. “I don't wanna make you miserable. I don't wanna make you do anything you're not ready for. I don't wanna spook you. I should've waited until I had a better handle on things before I came over, but I just…I needed to see you.”
“I'm glad you came over,” she assured him. “But if you're planning to fuck me one last time and break things off, I’d rather just skip to the end.”
Elliot’s eyebrows shot way up onto his forehead, near where his hairline would be if he still had hair. “Excuse me?”
“This just feels…I've been here before, Elliot. More times than I can count.”
“Olivia, have you lost your mind?”
“What? You don't think I recognize the signs? I wrote the book on this, so please. Just be straight with me. If this isn't working for you, if it's too much right now, I get it. That's why I told you to take all the time you needed. I don’t need you to fuck me, Elliot. Ever. We don't have to be more than we were a year ago. We can go back to just being friends. Just don't string me along. Don't keep making me want things again that I can never really have.”
His eyebrows drew down again, slamming together almost angrily, and suddenly, she craved it. The thrill of the fight. If this was going to end badly, they may as well go down in flames. They were so damn careful with each other these days, tentative and hesitant, neither willing to truly speak their minds most of the time for fear of rocking the boat and shattering the fragile veil of peace they had constructed over a vast chasm of turmoil. To be fair, everyone was careful with her these days, like they were just waiting for her to implode. Everyone except Sykes, who had more than called Olivia on her bullshit.
But it wasn't anger Olivia saw in his expression. He seemed genuinely bewildered, and he chose to focus on the one thing she really wished she hadn't said.
“What things am I making you want?”
Olivia shrunk back, refusing to answer the question and steeling herself against the inevitable.
“When you told me all those years ago that you were my partner, for better or worse, it took a while, but you made me believe it. You really were the most important person in my life. You knew everything about me. I didn't always do things perfectly where you were concerned, but I always tried to be there for you in a way that was acceptable because you were married, and it wasn’t my place most of the time. And when things got too complicated between us, I tried to give you space. But I always came back. And I know it wasn't the same for you. You had a wife and kids. You had a whole family, a mom and siblings, that you never even mentioned. But I understood that it had to be that way. All I ever expected from you was friendship. And I've told you before that I would still rather have that now than…”
“Than what?”
She tried desperately to keep the wobble out of her voice, to keep the tears in check. “Than a short-lived sexual affair. So please. I'm just asking you to walk it back if you need to. But don't do it like you did before. Don't just disappear again. I didn't deserve that then, and I certainly don't deserve it now.”
“I know you didn't. And your willingness to give me another chance, to let me be part of yours and Noah’s life? That means the world to me.”
“But?” she prompted.
“There’s no but. I'm not trying to walk it back. I don't want to walk it back. As long as it's something you want, I'm in this. And it really can be on your terms. We don’t ever even have to live together. I've told you before that I'm good with whatever you can give me. One night a week. Two nights a week. A weekend here and there. When you're ready to tell me what you want, I’ll make it happen, Liv. And I mean that. But I'm not going to rush you, and I'm not going to pressure you. But I am trying to get to a place where I'm steady. Where I can offer you something more than just…chaos. That's what I need you to know.”
Olivia heard his words, but she couldn't quite process them. She was too amped up, her abandonment issues were triggered, and she wasn't thinking clearly. Everything about him, about them, that she still hadn't really dealt with was right there at the surface in a way that felt dangerous.
He was right. They shouldn't do this tonight. She didn't know exactly what the past six weeks had been like for him, but it couldn't have been good. He’d lost another team member, and according to the rumor mill, the young detective had been Elliot’s new partner of sorts. He had died looking into the drug trafficking ring Elliot had turned him onto, which Olivia knew meant it had something to do with Elliot’s younger brother. Now Joey was in the wind, and Elliot wasn't certain of his allegiance or his head space.
Olivia hadn’t known about Eli when she called Elliot a few days ago, but she'd known the rest. She should have realized he wasn't doing well, that it probably wasn't the time to tell him about the compass.
She was good with giving him time and space when he was still gone, but now he was here, and as much as she hated to admit it, she had missed him. Missed talking to him as a friend. But she had also missed his face. His touch. Not sex. That was good, better than she had ever imagined it could be, but she could live without that. It was the little touches she had gotten used to again. The way his shoulder brushed hers when they walked side by side. His hand on her upper arm or square in the middle of her back. The way he squeezed her shoulder or brushed his leg against hers when they were seated near one another.
Olivia never realized how much his touch did to ground her, how it made her feel safe and connected to someone else until it was just…gone. After he left, the occasional hug that she gave to a victim aside, no one touched her for months. She thought sometimes that's all it was with Haden and that's why she put up with Brian’s bullshit for as long as she had. She craved touch, any touch, and if the only way to get it was by having a sexual relationship, so be it. Besides, it wasn't like the sex was bad. Haden was actually fun. And Brian was…Brian. In her own way, she really had loved him, and he stood by her through the worst experience of her life.
Being a mom eased some of it, that need for human contact. As a baby, toddler, and even up through the last few years, Noah had always been good for hugs and snuggles. She actually missed the days of sticky little fingers grasping at her leg, begging her to pick him up. Of pudgy hands and stubby feet wrapped tightly around her.
But those days were gone. She was lucky to get two hugs a day, and making a hug with a preteen last the requisite seven seconds it supposedly took to reap the benefits was never guaranteed.
She hadn’t expected it, but Ed had been something of a toucher. She’d been alone long enough at that point that it was foreign to her. It took her a while to acclimate again, but eventually she had. She grew comfortable enough to let him hold her hand in the park and to snuggle up against him when they sat side by side, sometimes even falling asleep on his shoulder.
But Elliot? No one had ever touched her like Elliot did. Not when they were partners and it fed the rumor mill, and certainly not like he did now. Elliot didn't touch with just his hands. He touched her with his eyes and his smile, sometimes even with his whole body, and not just sexually. Now that they were doing this, whatever it was, he gave the best hugs. It didn't matter if they were standing up or lying down. Elliot literally enveloped her when he hugged her, somehow wrapping himself around her but still bearing the brunt of their combined weight.
She thought maybe that's what she would miss the most when he finally left her again. His hugs and the way his eyes and smile felt like miniature versions of those hugs.
She knew she would be worse off than before when it happened, when this bubble they’d inflated around them finally burst, but for now, he was still here. And she thought maybe she didn't want to fight after all. Maybe she just wanted to soak up his touch while she could.
Olivia wasn't feeling very steady. She was raw and tired, feeling guilty about the necklace and seeing it as a personal failure when her intentions had been noble enough. So what she did next was completely out of character for her.
This time, she hugged him. She'd never done that before, reached for him first for comfort. It caught him off guard because she put too much of her weight behind it. She wasn't exactly a lightweight, so he faltered a little, stumbling back a step or two and colliding with her kitchen cabinet.
“I don't care,” she whispered, arms going under his and fingers splaying across his shoulder blades.
He relaxed against the edge of the counter, making space for her between his legs and absorbing her weight into him easily. “About what?” he asked, arms closing around her, tucking her even closer.
“Any of it,” she mumbled, letting his beard tickle her temple as she breathed in the scent of him. “I like that you come with a whole hand’s worth of kids, two-plus grandkids, and a quirky mother. I don't care if one brother’s an asshole or the other’s an addict or your sisters won't get on a plane. It doesn't change anything for me. I like that your life is chaotic and that you're as much of a workaholic as I am. If this ever did work out, if it's something you really wanted, we would always have things to navigate, but I would never want you to change for me.”
Elliot’s hands roamed along her back, making their way beneath the hem of her shirt, and even that little bit of skin to skin contact did something to her.
“You have to know that's what I want. For things to work out, I mean. I would never have started this if I wasn't sure, Liv.”
A little bit of her insecurity slipped through the cracks. “Sometimes I still worry that you're just doing this because you feel guilty for leaving me the first time.”
“You're wrong,” he said simply. “There's nothing further from the truth.”
“Mmm. But I may never believe that. And you'll get sick of it eventually. Or else I'll get too scared and push you away.”
“So if you tell me to back off, am I supposed to give you space, or…?”
“Well, I don't plan to do that. I think I just need to know you won't give up on me. That you won't jump ship completely again.”
“I won't, Liv,” he promised, sounding contrite and tortured, and that had never been her intention. To make him feel bad about it again because she had made the choice to forgive him. To give him another chance. She couldn't keep throwing it in his face.
“And I'll never get sick of you,” he continued. “Even if you need reassurance every day for the next ten years, you just tell me what that needs to look like, and I’ll make it happen.”
“Well, every day would be excessive. I'm not that needy. But the flowers were nice.”
“So flowers over expensive jewelry. Got it.”
Olivia tensed, stepped back, putting space between them so she could see his face. “It’s like I told the girls. I didn't give the necklace away. I just lent it to her. I plan on getting it back. I think I just did it without really thinking it through, you know?”
He gave a funny little nod, not really meeting her eyes. She knew then how badly she had messed up and that she needed to own it.
“Elliot, I'm sorry.”
He shrugged. “It was a gift. No strings. You had every right to do whatever you wanted with it. I honestly never thought you’d wear it.”
“Why not?” she asked softly.
“Because…it wasn't enough. Not after what I did to you or what I put you through that first year or so after I crashed back into your life. Nothing would ever be enough.”
“You can't…buy forgiveness, Elliot. It has to be given freely. And I've given it to you. No strings. It's not contingent upon jewelry or flowers. And it's not contingent upon…this. Whatever this is between us.”
He sniffed a little, his blue eyes too murky for her to really read. They both should really just try to get some sleep. Put all of this on hold until they both got their bearings again.
“I know. But I'm Catholic. Atonement and acts of contrition, you know?”
“But I'm not Catholic.”
“I'm well aware.”
“Anyway, I shouldn't have lent the necklace to anyone, and in hindsight, I see that clearly. Again, I’m sorry.”
“You don't owe me an apology, Liv. Ever. I should've…been more clear when I gave it to you. I guess I still need to learn to use my words.”
Something else was bothering her, and she felt ridiculous bringing it up. “So…the thing about it is that…I do like the idea of you giving me jewelry. Especially now that we’re…whatever it is we are. And I'm not saying you ever have to, but if you ever did give me anything else that fit in a small box, I promise I would wear it. The same way I did the compass. And I don't want you to think I didn't like it because I did. I loved it, El. It meant…more to me than you'll probably ever know because I missed a lot of things in those years you were gone, but the way you used to leave a Christmas present in my locker every year? That was always my favorite. Especially when it was a dainty necklace or a pair of earrings. And I always wore them. You know I did.”
“I know,” he said, a bittersweet smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, and she wondered about what Kathleen said earlier. How it wasn't like him to pick out jewelry himself. She thought about how she used to do his shopping for Kathy and the kids in their early years as partners, and she wondered who picked out the gifts he gave her. She somehow doubted it was Kathy or the girls. The thought of him browsing for jewelry for her back then before internet shopping was a thing felt wrong now. Illicit. It made her feel jumbled up and guilty, even though she knew he only did it because he’d commented on it during their second or third year as partners. How she didn't even have a tree. How he'd put his foot in his mouth when he grumbled about how nice it must be not to have to worry about shopping for a spouse and kids with their busy schedules.
She had shut him down quickly, told him she'd trade places with him in a heartbeat if she could. That was the first year he left a gift in her locker. Always wrapped in a crumpled paper bag. And they had always meant the world to her, especially that first Christmas after her mother died.
Overcome by a rush of nostalgic affection, Olivia reached for his hand. “Let me make it up to you.”
“Make what up to me?”
“The necklace.”
“Just let it go, okay? I thought I was holding onto my feelings about it a little better.”
“Well, I can always read you.”
“I can see that. Not that I'm gonna take you up on it, but how exactly would you make it up to me?”
“I got you something, actually. I was going to wait a while, but now seems like as good a time as any.”
“Well, now I'm intrigued.”
Nerves flared in Olivia’s stomach. “It's, uh, it's a little unconventional. I don't want you to freak out about it.”
Elliot’s face lit up in a bashful grin. “The suspense is killing me, Benson.”
She tugged his hand, urging him to follow her to her bedroom before she could chicken out. Rifling through her underwear drawer, she pulled out a small box.
“Before you open it, I want to make sure you understand it’s not what you think. I'm not trying to put you on the spot at all. I just…I was looking for a replacement for the necklace you…gave to Rita, and nothing seemed right. But I did some research, and…anyway. It just…” She thrust the box at him. “Here.”
Elliot took the box and flipped the lid open. Olivia watched his expression carefully.
“It's not a wedding ring. I mean, some people use them for that, but that's not…I'm not, you know, proposing marriage or anything. I mean, we’ve only been together for a few months.”
Christ. She was babbling. She didn't babble. This was the biggest fool she’d ever made of herself, but he was just staring dumbly at the ring, and she had no choice but to try to explain herself when his eyes filled with tears.
It hit her then that a year ago he was still wearing the ring his wife had given him. She should have gone with another necklace.
“Elliot, I'm sorry. This was a mistake.” She reached for the box, trying to save them both the embarrassment of his tears spilling over.
There were a lot of things she wasn't good at. Actually showing up for a date on time? Forget it. Cooking? Even Noah could tell you she was hit or miss. But Olivia was good at gifts. The men in her life had always been thrilled with what she picked out for them. Back in the day, Elliot had grinned ear to ear when he pulled whatever birthday or Christmas gift she’d given him from his locker. But this was different because she’d wanted it to mean something the way the compass had meant to her.
Elliot had a death grip on the box even as she tried to wrench it out of his hand.
“Elliot, please. I really didn't mean to upset you.”
“Liv, it's…I'm speechless.”
“I'm sorry. I didn't want to go with the traditional cross or crucifix, you know? And I thought it would be good to embrace both your faith and your Irish heritage because those are two things I've always admired about you. Your commitment to God and your strong family values.”
She kept pulling on the box, kept rambling. “And I know it's not technically Irish. That it's Celtic. But I liked the design because of the alternating cross and knot, which supposedly represents interconnectedness, and that's how you make me feel. Like I'm not alone, so I never wanted you to feel alone. And some people say the cross’s points represent faith, strength, compassion, and infinite love. And I had this whole speech planned out, but I can't remember any of it now.”
Elliot finally made eye contact, and Olivia thought maybe she was going to die of embarrassment.
“You keep trying to take it from me. Is it mine or not?”
“It's yours,” she croaked, reluctantly relinquishing her hold on the box. “No strings. But please don't think you have to wear it. Maybe you can just keep it in your pocket as a sort of…talisman. Or wear it on a long chain. Something to know what you mean to me. It's just…it was stupid.”
“It's…the most thoughtful, incredible gift I've ever gotten,” he said when she finally let him get a word in edgewise.
“Really?” she whispered, swiping at the tears that had humiliatingly escaped down her own cheeks.
“Can I wear it? If I want to?”
“Of course you can. It…I just don't want you to feel like you have to.”
The truth was that she had always associated Elliot with a ring. It was such a big part of who he was to her when she was getting to know him and had first fallen for him, however inappropriately. Faithful husband and devoted father. Even now that she was selfishly glad he’d stopped wearing his wedding ring again, it felt strange to see his hand without it, and she thought it left him feeling adrift.
She wished sometimes she’d been the marrying kind, wondered what it would have been like to have a man that committed to her. But Olivia knew she wouldn't have gotten as lucky as Kathy had. She probably would've been divorced in less than two years. She hadn't been joking when she told Elliot all those years ago that no other man would’ve put up with her as long as he had.
Olivia watched him pluck the ring from the box and slip it onto his finger. His left ring finger. And even though it didn't mean anything, not like that, anyway, it stirred something deep inside her.
He really could be mine if I let him.
“Elliot.” Her voice was lower and huskier than usual, but she had already embarrassed the hell out of herself. May as well go for broke.
“Yeah?” he mumbled, never taking his eyes off the ring.
“Could we…”
He glanced up at her, finally giving her his undivided attention.
“Do you think we could shower together?”
“I’ll always shower with you, Liv.”
Still feeling weird and vulnerable, Olivia lit candles instead of using the overhead lights. And when the fragrant steam enveloped them, Elliot pulled her close, kissing her more thoroughly than he ever had. So thoroughly that she could almost pretend he was pledging himself to her.
“I don't want to do this here,” she told him when his hand skipped down her hip and one finger teased its way inside her. “Tonight I want to feel all of you when you're inside me. Is that okay?”
“I already told you I’d give you anything you want. All you have to do is ask.” But he had never taken direction all that well, and he dropped to his knees before her. “But first, I seem to recall you saying you wanted to take the beard out for one last spin.”
She gasped when he nipped at her clit before burying his face there and working her up to fever pitch.
“Oh, god, El. Fuck, baby. Just like that. So fucking good.”
He broke rhythm and grinned up at her, eyes bright and clear but pupils blown wide. “What if I gave you a ring? Would you wear it?”
“Yes,” she gasped, guiding him back to her pulsing clit with one hand on the back of his head.
His free hand, the one that wasn't two fingers and three inches deep inside her, sought hers out and twined their fingers together.
Olivia could feel it, the hard metal of the ring she'd given him against her own bare knuckle.
“I’d wear it every goddamn day, El. For the rest of my life.”
“And what would you say when people asked you about it?”
She thrust against his fingers and his tongue, moments away from ecstasy.
“I’d tell them I was yours,” she panted.
“Are you?” he asked, in between thrusts and licks, curls and nips. “Mine?”
“Yes,” she managed, fighting the urge to throw her head back and scream as a bolt of lightning pierced her core, sending shockwaves through her entire body. Elliot squeezed her hand more tightly and rode it out with her, held her safe and steady against the wall of the shower as she fell apart all around him.
“Always,” she told him, never breaking eye contact even as she started to recover. “I’ll always be yours, El.”