Chapter Text
A/N: Did y'all miss me? I'm shaking in my boots to post this.
Cop Baes
Chapter 1
The door to her apartment swings open and she steps inside, her heels clicking sharply on the hardwood floor as she tosses her keys onto the nearby table. The apartment is dimly lit, the early evening light filtering through the half-drawn blinds. Her blazer is draped over one arm, and her bag is dangling from the other, as she makes her way toward the kitchen.
The tension in her shoulders and the weight of the day presses down on her like a physical thing, so much so that she drops everything to the counter with a relieved sigh. Her phone, still in her pocket, has been off for hours as she’d spent most of her time in court today. They had a small victory but there’s still a ways to go in the case, far too soon for any celebrations so she doesn’t celebrate. She treats it as any other case, like any other day, and she’d spent the entire ride home in silence, hoping for a good outcome.
She wouldn’t normally prolong her disconnect from the world, but every single one of her therapists have preached to her about taking time for herself. Today, self care means silence, stillness.
But she is a mom, and a police captain, too.
After a long press to the power button on her phone, she reaches for a glass from the cabinet, her movements automatic, almost mechanical, as she fills it with water from the tap. She takes a long sip, closing her eyes for just a moment because her phone buzzes to life, the screen lighting up with a flood of missed calls, messages, and emails—each one a reminder of how much there is always left to do at the close of each day.
Setting the glass down on the counter with another heavy sigh, she begins her scrolling. An assessment of the damage first— several important looking emails with very serious subject lines and a plethora of texts. She’s deciding on who’s message to open first — if it’s Rollins’ array of question marks or if it’s Fin’s very straight to the point ‘CALL ME.’
Before she can choose, her phone vibrates with an incoming call, a number she doesn’t recognize. “Olivia Benson,” she breathes into her phone, tucking it between her cheek and her shoulder, heading for the refrigerator. While she talks, she can at least start dinner. Noah will be home soon.
“ Olivia— ” The caller's voice is deep, but familiar. “I’m so happy you finally answered. I’ve left a few messages…”
It’s been a while but she’s pretty sure she knows exactly who it is. It’s the voice of a man she once knew. Memories of this very important man in an expensive yet boring suit, waiting impatiently for her to get off of work filter into her mind. She recalls all of the expensive dinners and the decent sex from a man who wanted so much more from her than she had the capacity to give to anyone back then… and sometimes now — depending on who’s asking.
She usually hates when men circle back, but he did help her avoid misconduct charges. And she definitely broke up with him after, so as politely as she can, she says his name — “Kurt Moss?”
“Yes,” the voice confirms, relieved. “Thought you forgot about me.”
“I— no. It’s just been a while…” Well over a decade, she thinks, as she starts doing the math in her head. She dated Kurt Moss years before Elliot left so it’s actually closer to fifteen years, she thinks. And that’s a thing now— she measures time by Elliot Stabler’s presence in her life.
“So,” Kurt begins, and she can tell by the inflection in his voice that something must’ve happened. Of course, he skates around it, asking, “How have you been?”
“Kurt, I’m doing great…” she says, but her voice has fallen flat.
Whatever he’s asking, her answer is no. Especially if this is a romantic call…
Olivia’s hand absently finds the compass dangling over her cleavage, the one she recently got back and couldn’t wait to put back on. She doesn’t know if she’ll be borrowing it out again any time soon. It’s been nice to have it, especially since the man who gave it to her is gone for work again. Undercover. Again .
But, either way, they’ve been talking again and her hope is that when he gets home, they’ll be able to explore. The last thing she needs right now is a distraction, especially when she already knows what she wants.
And who.
“Is there something I can do for you or did you just randomly think about your ex from fifteen years ago?” It’s rude, but she asks sweetly enough to get laughter from him.
Still chuckling, Kurt observes, “You were always straight to the point.”
“I— yes, I am.” She snickers softly to herself. “Sorry. It’s the end of a long day and I’m cooking dinner for my kid. Did you need something? A favor?”
“Actually, this is a work call…”
“ Oh ,” she replies, shoulders rounding out, defenses down. Good , she thinks. It’s been a summer of dodging interested men. “Still… at The Ledger ?” It’s the only real detail she can remember about him, what he did for work. “As far as I know… you’re not the guy making phone calls to confirm speculation.”
Chuckling, Kurt responds, “It’s not speculation.”
Now fully interested, she asks, “Oh?”
“My guys have been calling you all day, Olivia.”
She scoffs, rolling her eyes. She starts pulling left over food out of the refrigerator as she continues on, “I had court this afternoon and I’ve been a little busy, ya know. The city never sleeps and there’s always something—”
“Congrats on making captain,” Kurt interrupts. “Always knew your ambition would lead you here…”
“Thanks…” The conversation stalls, leaving an uncomfortable silence between them, and her mind drifts back to the awkward exchanges during their relationship. Kurt had always wanted more from her, more than she could give then—or even now. Just the thought of committing to anyone makes her palms sweat.
“So…” she leads after clearing her throat. Quickly, she goes over her latest cases and can’t imagine why he’d be calling, who he’d be calling to inquire about. SVU isn’t working with any celebrities and for the moment, there aren’t any political scandals brewing that she knows of. There are still a dozen unanswered texts for her to answer. “What case is it, Kurt?”
Kurt sighs dramatically, before revealing, “ Shadowërk .”
Her eyes close at even the mention of that sadistic website. So much violence and chaos would have ruined the world as they know it. If it had gotten bigger, more people would’ve been hurt.
Thankfully, the revenge for hire site has been shut down for a year now. “Uh, no offense, but you’re a little late and the case is still active. It was a global—“
“We aren’t working on a piece for the website…”
She pauses her movements and she drops her palms to the counter, the breeze from the open refrigerator leaving goosebumps on her skin. “So, what then?” She hears her voice raise without meaning to, but she’s tired and the riddles are too much.
“Oh,” Kurt breathes. “You don’t know...”
“Know what ?” she finally snaps.
“Liv, I’m running LMZ now. There’s video footage from that case— one from Ohio?” Kurt pauses and for the life of her, she can’t think of what footage at all could be released that would be interesting enough for a goddamn tabloid news story so much time after the fact?
“There’s surveillance footage of an attack in an Ohio diner. It’s all over socials…”
She gasps then because her ass still hurts sometimes from all those goddamn pellets and no , they couldn’t mean that video. “Of the shooting?”
“There’s a guy in a mask. He sprays something into the air, everyone starts coughing and he walks right up to your table…”
No .
Olivia drops her phone on the counter to open the Safari app but then her thumbs hover there, not even sure what to type. And as her hands begin trembling, a text message from Noah pops up. It’s written in all caps: IS THIS YOU?
Kurt keeps talking and she can barely hear him over the sound of her heart thumping.
“The original tweet is from an anonymous submission to a popular Twitter/X blog that showcases everyday heroism. It’s going viral—four hundred thousand views and counting… video just dropped a few hours ago… everyone on X and TikTok are talking about it. You’re trending. They’re calling you guys Cop Baes …”
Olivia opens the text message just as the link comes in with the captioned ‘IRL action movie romcom: LOOK AT COP BAES YALL.’
“ Cop… Baes ?” Olivia murmurs.
“…Everyone wants to know who you all are.” Kurt’s voice is clear again all of a sudden. “That’s you, clearly and uh, is that Elliot Stabler? Your old partner?” He’s asking, but Kurt for sure knows. He was her boyfriend and he met Elliot and— “I see he finally let go of his hair…”
Kurt’s snickering is interrupted by the apartment door rattling open, followed by running footsteps and Noah’s voice calling out to her.
“Mom!” her child wails.
It’s the perfect excuse so she mutters, “Sorry Kurt, I have to go. I’ll call you later.” She ends the call just in time for Noah to come barreling into the kitchen.
His eyes are wide, a huge smile spreading across his face. “Mom! Is that you and Elliot ? In the video?”
She puts her phone down, intending to be a mother, but Noah eagerly shoves his into her face, insisting she watch the video again. The footage—grainy and taken from a strange angle—shows them being attacked in that diner by the hunter who was after them for the bounty on their heads. There’s a spray of chemicals in the air, a gun pointed directly at them, and she looks remarkably calm, more composed than she remembers feeling. Her composure is evident as she dabs her eyes and reaches for her own gun. But she’s not quick enough; the hunter fires, and she takes buckshot to the hip, sending both her and her partner crashing to the ground.
Then comes the part that, according to Noah, has everyone talking: She’s bleeding out, while Elliot, blinded by the chemicals, is disoriented. Yet somehow, they compensate perfectly for each other’s weaknesses. She wraps her hands around his, guiding his aim so they can pull the trigger together and hit their target.
Not only do they hit him— they kill him. Together. She remembers the intimate press of her finger against his, the unwavering trust in that moment as they pulled the trigger in unison.
Elliot then springs into action, scooping her up and carrying her out of the chaos, bridal style, as if they were the stars of some twisted romcom. They saved each other because of their chemistry as partners—or at least that’s what people are saying. They’re being hailed as a perfect team of superheroes, with everyone assuming they must be in love to work so seamlessly under such intense pressure.
Her son is filling her in on all of this as she watches the video again.
After their tenth rewatch, with a mouth full of food, her son says, “Mom, can we show Elliot?”
“Hon, he’s working—” The realization hits her like a ton of bricks.
He’s somewhere in New York, and if four hundred thousand people have seen this video, then wherever he is, he’s definitely in trouble.
—
“Vince Moretti!” A heavy hand claps down on his shoulder, and Elliot turns to see the ugly mug of a known henchman named Spike. Spike stands at an imposing 6’6” and he tips the scales at 300 plus pounds. When he laughs, his massive belly shakes with the force of it.
Honestly, he knows Spike is the kind of man you don’t even try to take down with force. It’d be impossible.
Maybe I could go for his knees , Elliot muses.
“How are ya?” Spike’s booming voice growls, his massive hand clapping on Elliot's shoulder again, this time with enough force to almost knock him off balance. “Vince— the man that doesn’t tolerate disloyalty or snitches! Ready to do business, man?” Spike’s voice is so deep it almost sounds like a parody.
“I’m doing good, man,” Elliot replies, stuffing both of his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. Spike steps up on the sidewalk beside him, his height towering even higher. They both look out at the murky, ominous water in front of them. This is where Spike likes to conduct his business where it’s deserted, eerily quiet.
Elliot’s instincts tell him this water has seen more than a few bodies dragged beneath its surface. Lucky for him, his squad is right down the road— and he’s a great swimmer, if it comes to that.
Spike clears his throat and leans over the metal railing, finally evening his height with Elliot. “Do you have what was ordered?”
“Of course, I do. I keep my word,” Elliot grumbles, lifting a brow at the burly man, his voice laced with confidence. “That’s why I’m successful.”
“Oh, is that so? I—” A loud jingle interrupts Spike, and he fumbles for his phone. In his enormous hand, it looks almost comically small. “Gimme a sec, Vince,” he requests, lifting a thick finger at him. The man takes a few paces along the sidewalk, phone pressed to his ear, his voice dropping to a near whisper.
Elliot watches him carefully. Something about the way Spike glances back at him, voice hushed, sets off alarms in his head.
That’s odd.
Elliot presses his forearms onto the railing, leaning over to bring his wrist closer to his mouth. “Somethings off,” he murmurs to his squad.
Ayanna’s voice crackles in his ear. “What is it, Stabler?”
“Not sure. He’s looking at me weird…”
As if on cue, Spike turns and meets his gaze again.
“Weird how?” Bell demands, the urgency clear, and Elliot feels his pulse quicken. Something isn’t right. This is about to take a dangerous turn—he can feel it deep in his gut.
“He took a call in the middle of our deal. Now he keeps peeking at me.” Elliot shifts again, glancing over at the man.
“ Oh, fuck ,” he hears through his earpiece, and his hand instinctively goes for his gun in an instant, his training kicking in without hesitation.
“What is it?” Elliot asks, already bracing himself to either defend or bolt. His truck is just twenty feet away… he could easily make it there, rattle off an excuse, and hightail out of there until he knows what’s happening. But he remains cool, even-tempered, his mind working through the options for his next move.
He keeps his gaze fixed on the river, ears turned for Spike’s movements. Another cackle comes through his earpiece— “Mayday! Get the fuck out of there, Elliot!”— followed by Ayanna’s voice, sharp and commanding, ordering the team and calling for all units.
It all happens fast, but in his mind, time slows to a crawl as realization sinks in—he’s fucked. It’s finally happening. He always figured it would go down like this, something that seemed low stakes, the kind of job he thought he could handle with ease, and it’s the very thing that takes him out.
“Moretti,” Spike barks. Elliot turns to find the behemoth of a man striding toward him, a cocky, yellow-toothed grin plastered across his face.
Instinctively, Elliot’s arms swing around behind his back, his gun concealed but planted firmly in his right hand, just in case.
“I just got an interesting phone call…” Spike growls.
Elliot narrows his eyes at the man, sizing him up. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Spike answers, gruffly.
There’s a weighted pause as they stand off.
Elliot tightens his grip on his gun, prepared for this to take a turn. His beard twitches before he asks, “Gonna share with the class?”
Spike cracks his neck, puffing out his broad chest. “Heard you were a cop.”
“ Me ?” Elliot asks, looking around as if the idea was absurd. He tries to play it cool, not overselling it. “Fuckin’ hate cops,” he adds for good measure.
“Oh, yeah?” Spike taunts, his bleary brown eyes widening in mock surprise. “Then who the fuck is this?” Spike’s iPhone looks so ridiculously small in his massive hand as he shoves it in Elliot’s face that it’s distracting. He’s barely read the words, barely processed what the fuck a “ cop bae” is, before he realizes that what he’s looking at is surveillance footage from the Shadowërk case.
Fuck .
“Tell me you’re not a cop again, you fucking pig!” Spike roars, winding up for a punch with a fist that could knock him out cold. But he halts when Elliot swings his arm around, gun drawn and steady.
“On your knees, Spike.”
For a moment, he thinks he’s in for a fight, that Spike might just try to take him down anyway. But then the distant wail of sirens grows louder, closer, and Spike’s bravado falters. He raises both hands, surrendering, his lips curling in a sneer.
“When I get out, I’m coming for you.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah… heard it all before,” Elliot retorts, keeping his gun trained on the hulking man as the sirens close in.
—
ASH @baddieashley 1m
#COPBAES this is actual romance omfg
ACAB @razzlejazzle 11m
just watched the #copbaes video… I don’t fw the NYPD but this NYP wants his D
@f1estyb1tch 16m
I heard #copbaes are NYPD
penny @pen15 30m
THE WAY HE PICKED HER UP! they’ve gotta be fuckinnnnn! who are #copbaes?
smokey @simonamona 42m
WAIT! how can he see where to go? this some superhero shit? #copbaes
jessie g @jg2023 1h
THE #COPBAES ARE SO SEXY
Lauren, RN @nurselo4 1h
I wanna be #copbaes third!
Darrel @darrelbarrel2 2h
Oh I want to fuck them both #copbaes
WHIP IT @nowwatchmewhip 3h
If I knew I’d be paired with a partner that looked like THAT, I might have considered a different career path. #copbaes
XX @blackniki 4h
Dear, #copbaes — I’m bi
Twitter has always been a dumpster fire, she thinks. But never in her wildest dreams did she imagine she’d be reading tweet after tweet about herself like this.
She makes the mistake of clicking on the hashtag. Long after Noah is tucked into bed and she’s made her rounds of phone calls, all she can do is sit, wait, and scroll. The view count and comments keep climbing with every refresh.
On TikTok, someone has added romantic music over the video of Elliot carrying her out of the diner… and now there are endless variations—reaction videos, comments, shares—it’s spreading across all platforms. The hashtag #CopBaes has taken over.
And it’s an election year.
She drops her phone on the other side of the bed, turning her back to it. She had spoken briefly with Ayanna Bell earlier, and from what she knows, the video has somehow thrown their case off track. The only silver lining is that Elliot is finally on his way home.
—
“Who’s the first person you’re gonna call?” Ayanna’s voice cut through his thoughts. They’ve been made, and he is finally going home because of it.Three long weeks, barely any evidence collected, and now, with Spike being transported in, he was their only hope of making any real progress on the case.
But all Elliot can think about is the damn video that had cost him the case. He’s damned pissed.
“Olivia called,” Ayanna continues, a hint of something teasing in her tone. Despite the mess they were in, she’s smirking at him, clearly amused by the idea of Olivia, too, seeing the video. “So, she’s seen the video…”
“She’s seen the video,” Elliot echoes, his voice flat.
“She was worried sick that you were in danger,” Ayanna says, her full lips still lifted in a smirk. " Worried sick …”
“Ha!”
“So… any uh… any news?” she presses, still fishing for information.
Elliot looks around them, taking in the van where Jet is still accessing the online damage and the car where Spike is being held. It is not the right time. They are a hundred miles from the city, and he’s seething.
The operation had gone south fast, spiraling into a chaotic mess, leaving him with nothing but frustration and adrenaline coursing through his veins. His jaw is still clenched, every muscle in his body coiled tight. Beneath the anger, though, is the lingering buzz from being in the thick of it—the rush that only a high-stakes situation can bring.
He’s on edge and the last thing he wants to do is gossip. “Nothing to report, Sarge.”
“Yeah, but before we left the city, you guys had dinner…”
Elliot nods stiffly. “We did,” he confirms.
“Ah, ok… And nothing to report?” Bell asks again, not letting it go.
He knows what she’s doing— trying to distract him, to cool him down before she delivers the bad news. He has a feeling this is much worse than the video being sent from one person to another.
“Hey…” Jet’s head pops out of the van, and immediately Bell’s posture stiffens. “Sarge…”
“ Fuck …” Ayanna shakes her head, lets out a sigh. “You stay put…”
Before he can stop himself, he bites, “It’s not like I have anywhere to go. Can I please have my phone?”
“Sorry about that!” She drops his cell phone into his open palm, and he scrambles to get it powered on the second Bell slams the door of the van behind her.
As his phone comes to life, notifications flood in. The family group chat has over 100 messages, and he has missed calls from Randall, but he ignores those and taps the first link he finds. The video opens, and the familiar grainy footage of a diner fills the screen.
His heart stops for a split second when he recognizes her.
The anger that had been simmering in his chest is instantly replaced by something else entirely—a mix of shock, concern, and, if he is honest with himself, a rush of excitement. He watches, transfixed, as the scene plays out in front of him. His breath catches in his throat as they go down and he doesn’t start breathing again until the threat has been eliminated and he’s scooping her up, cradling her close as he carries her out of the diner, the cameras catching every second of it.
It feels surreal, watching himself like that, seeing the raw emotion on his face, the protective urgency in every movement. He’d been so caught up in the heat of the moment, he hadn’t fully registered what they’d accomplished together until now. And here it is, laid out for the world to see.
His heart pounds in his chest, a strange mix of pride and excitement surging through him. It’s like something out of a movie—like he’s the hero of some dramatic, action-packed romance. He can already imagine what people are saying about them.
The anger he’d felt just moments ago is now replaced by a buzzing anticipation. What’s Liv going to think of all this? Is she as proud of them as he is? Or is she pissed, embarrassed by the whole thing? He watches the first video again, and then a remake and then another. Five minutes later, he’s being prompted to download the Tiktok app. One tap to the hashtag and it hits him like a speeding train.
“ We have discovered the identities of hashtag Cop Bae s,” a seemingly popular content creator begins, a wide grin on her face. “ Olivia Benson is the hot milf, and the hunky guy is Detective Elliot Stabler! And just like we thought, the Benson and Stabler lore goes so much deeper than anyone could’ve ever thought. Dozens of news articles dating back to the 90’s! —“
Oh . Elliot chuckles and he scrolls once— “ Guys did y’all see Cop Baes? Captain Benson and Detective Stabler, both NYPD—“
Scroll— “ #CopBaes! Are they in love? ”
“Hey, Lover Boy…” Elliot nearly drops his phone at the sound of footsteps. When he looks up, it’s Reyes walking toward him.
The younger man smirks smugly, a conversation they once had about professionalism in the workplace echoing between them, especially under these fun and new circumstances. Elliot grunts, “You’re one to talk…”
And then they’re right back to business, and Reyes breaks it to him plainly. “The video went viral. We’re heading back to the city. You’re riding with me and our buddy Spike…”
And then the van reopens and as Bell repeats what Reyes has just announced, all Elliot can do is think about Olivia.
—
She is running late, so in that sense, it’s a typical morning for her and Noah.
It’s been a morning of ignoring phone calls, her back aching, and a growing sense of complete embarrassment. Sometime during the night, the news broke that it was in fact her and Elliot in the viral video, and now it’s more than just her friends calling— higher ups at the job, and even legit news outlets are blowing up her phone, all of them interested in this “story.”
So, admittedly, she’s moving a bit slower than usual.
To make matters worse, Noah spent 40 minutes watching his favorite TikToker rave about #CopBaes instead of getting dressed, which left her rushing him to do everything in under 10 minutes.
A thermos filled with coffee she hasn’t had a chance to sip sits beside her, and a cold bagel in her bag serves as her makeshift breakfast. Meanwhile, her son sat in the back seat, arms crossed and silent for the entire ride, all because she raised her voice this morning. Now she’s sitting in the car, foot on the brake, trying to stay patient as he takes his sweet time hooking his last bag over his shoulder.
Finally, he slams the door, but then sticks his head back inside the car to say, “Tell my new dad I said hi!”
“Excuse me?”
“Obviously you’re dating Elliot Stabler,” Noah states matter of factly. “Which is fine. I don’t care. Why lie?” And with that, he’s off, skipping into camp. She resists the urge to yell after him, to make him return to the car and apologize for his tone but she’s already so embarrassed, and there are people everywhere.
And she’s already late.
Her jaw clenched in frustration, she heads into work.
As luck would have it, traffic is backed up near the 16th precinct. Droves of reporters are swarming toward the front entrance, and from where she’s stuck, she can see a podium set up for what looks like a press conference.
The only thought running through her mind is: This can’t be for me, can it? There’s no way people are this interested in a case that’s over a year old. The trial is still ongoing, so surely, the NYPD wouldn’t consider a press conference for this. Right ?
Her phone rings again, and this time she answers. It’s a call from the precinct. “Hey.”
“It’s me,” Fin says. “I’m so sorry about this…”
“Fin, what the hell is going on?"
Fin clears his throat. “One PP set up a press conference. They are hoping you’d join…”
She’s speechless. “Absolutely not!”
“It’s excellent press for the NYPD, Liv. Think the Mayor wants to speak to you…”
She starts laughing, then, but it’s a hysterical, disbelieving laugh. Her brain is simply not processing this. It’s too much. “It’s a year later,” she repeats. “I need this to go away. Who is responsible for the release of this video?”
“Liv, where are you?” Fin questions, sounding like he’s on the move.
“I’m here.”
“No, I need your exact location…” he presses. “Civilians are trying to walk through the front door looking for you. I don’t think it’s safe.” She gives him the cross street and she can hear footsteps quicken over the call.
The reporters all shift toward the podium, and the crowd shifts away from the street.
“Liv? I think it’s about to start…”
“I see that.” A car moves ahead of her and brings her a little closer.
“Stay where you are. I’ll be there in a second,” Fin instructs.
And then she sees him, flanked by uniformed officers, making his way toward her car.
“Let an officer park your car, Liv. Let’s go." Fin helps her out of the car, officers flanking her on either side as they guide her into the building, moving with the precision of a security detail escorting a high-profile celebrity.
“What the fuck was that?” she demands once the side door is shut behind them. Fin raises a hand to signal the uniformed officers to stand down as she and Fin continue down the corridor, heading toward the front of the building to catch a glimpse of the commotion outside. “A press conference over a surveillance video?”
“Cardi B tweeted about it.”
She turns to him, eyebrows raised. “The rapper?”
“Views are in the millions now…”
She shakes her head in disbelief. “There’s a current election happening. There are a hell of a lot more important things going on,” Olivia dismisses with a shake of her head. But very famous rapper, Cardi B, tweeted about them ? “What did she say?”
Fin chuckles before pulling up the tweet on his phone. “ACAB forever, fuck the NYPD, but COP BAES?”
“ Wow .” They both laugh—her in disbelief, him genuinely amused.
A few people turn toward them at the sound, and that’s when they notice her. She hears the whispered, “It’s her,” and then the whispers double in the lobby.
“Fin, let’s go.”
Upstairs, the team is watching the press conference on the news. Olivia and Fin quietly join the squad, standing at the back of the room. “The NYPD takes it very seriously that this footage was released, and we ask that you give these two heroes space to do their jobs.” Oh , Olivia thinks. Relief floods through her as she hears this. She had feared the worst.
Her hand instinctively rests on her chest, touched by the gesture. Maybe the NYPD is actually protecting them.
But just as the relief starts to calm her nerves, the spokesperson continues, “But yes, that is Captain Benson of Manhattan SVU and Detective Stabler, a dedicated member of the Organized Crime Task Force. They were heroically saving the world…”
Olivia marches straight to the television, cutting across their desks without hesitation, and switches it off.
“Hi, Captain,” Velasco greets her first, his voice sparking a chain reaction as everyone turns toward her.
“Morning, Captain,” Curry chimes in, flashing a wide smile.
One by one, they all look her way, smiling—Velasco, Curry, Bruno, and Fin—each waiting for her response.
“Hi, team. I am aware of the unnecessary hoopla surrounding the footage—”
“It’s beautiful,” Curry corrects her with a polite smile.
Olivia bites her tongue. “Detective Stabler and I are good friends and great partners. The speculation into our personal lives is unprofessional. Thank you. Meeting in one hour. I am expecting an update on all of our open cases.” With that, she spins on her heel and marches into her office.
Only Fin dares to follow. He shuts the door behind him and after looking through the blinds at the squad, he chuckles. “ Seriously ?” he asks, referring to the scene she’s just made.
Plopping down into her chair, she sighs. “Noah thinks I’m lying to him about Elliot and I dating.”
“I can see why. People have been digging up old articles about you two, piecing the story together. It’s become a thing overnight,” he says, a hint of pride in his voice. “You’ve replaced demure —”
“This is ridiculous,” Olivia interrupts. “We’ve never…. Elliot and I, we…” Her cheeks flush instantly.
“What?”
“It’s complicated, yes. But we’ve never…” The words trail off as she reaches for her phone. She hasn’t heard from Elliot directly, only from Bell. And while she knows he’s safe, she’d feel better hearing it from him.
They had dinner, laughed, drank wine, and promised to do it again when he got back.
So maybe, yeah, sure—it’s a little more than just friends now.
“He’s always had a thing for you,” Fin comments.
“Stop…”
“I’m serious. I’m a man. I know these things…”
“Even if that were true—”
“Yeah, I know. Kathy,” Fin finishes. “But still, you’ve always had a special place in his heart, and now that she’s gone…”
“You knew her, you know,” Olivia reminds her friend, her voice softened by memory. She can’t help but think of the countless times that beautiful blonde would rush into the precinct to check on her husband. She recalls how often Kathy would show up with homemade meals, stacks of Tupperware filled with food not just for Elliot, but for the whole team—ensuring they could do their jobs well, even when cases consumed their lives. And though Kathy may have never liked her much, Olivia had always admired and respected her for the way she cared for Elliot and their family.
“Lovely woman,” Fin comments casually. “Nothing against her. RIP—”
She raises a finger, “Hey—”
“But she’s gone now,” he says, finishing his thought.
“It’s not just about that. It’s about people thinking we had an affair when we didn’t. It’s about my professionalism being questioned.” She feels like she’s complaining, but wouldn’t anyone be irritated by all of this sudden exposure? “And I’m not a romance novel lead. I’m a fucking cop—”
“Still a woman though,” Fin points out, unafraid of her as usual, which she appreciates. Their years of working together have built this trust. He’s her right hand, honest to a fault, knowing when to push and when to compliment. “A beautiful woman who turned out to be a hero, icon and a survivor… and now people are invested in your happiness.”
She feels a twinge of insult. “A love life doesn’t equate to happiness.”
“But it could,” he counters. “It’s not a big deal. The news cycle will forget this in a week…” When she doesn’t respond, he leans in, studying her face. “Why are you really upset? Is it because you’ve been found out? That your worst-kept secret is now everybody’s business?”
She groans, annoyed. “I told you, nothing happened...”
“I’m talking about your feelings for each other.” He keeps his eyes on her, waiting for a reaction. “And the palpable attraction you’ve both had for the last twenty-odd years.” He bursts into laughter, and just then, her phone buzzes in her hand, breaking up their conversation.
Four incoming texts stack one on top of the other.
Noah 10:03 AM pls pick me up.
Noah 10:03 AM I. AM. MORTIFIED.
Noah 10:03 AM everyone has seen the video.
Noah 10:04 AM I like Elliot so you could’ve told me the truth.
And then another text —
Stabler 10:04 AM Liv, I’m home.
—