Two weeks had passed since Olivia had forced the fear of God into a handful of Stabler Enterprises' board members. As soon as the technology department was no longer in a downward flaming spiral, the funding for Red Light had come in. Suffice to say, the bulk of her evenings were spent in the design studio at the office or in Stabler's bed.

She was starting to forget what her own home even looked like anymore, only running home for a change of clothes and a quick shower. It was strange, but the design studio felt more like home than her own apartment did. She was in her element — an element she wasn't even aware was hers. Each new design, each new decision made only furthered her understanding for why Elliot was absorbed in his work.

She felt like a God.

A very, very tired God.

Any remnants of her life before working at SE felt a million years behind her. His presence had installed a permanent thrill running down her spine, the adrenaline she felt becoming a staple in her every day life. He had changed her; it all had.

Alone in the studio, she sat hovering over a sketch desk. The mechanical pencil in her hand was beginning to leave a red indent in her fingers as she scribbled and erased and repeated the process. Her mind was so enveloped into the sketch in front of her that she completely tuned out the sound of familiar footsteps coming from behind her.

"Someone's working hard." Elliot chuckled, gently placing his palm on her back as he peered over her. His eyes scanned the lines on the paper, a deep twinge of pride growing in the pit of his stomach.

Her head snapped up, her eyes meeting his almost immediately. "You scared me." she giggled, letting her head fall back down to face the paper. "I've been working on this all night, I can't get it right. It's missing something."

"Show me what you've got so far," he said, pulling up a rolling stool to sit beside her. He could see parts of the mockup screen layout mapped out on the page, scribbles of options covering the pages.

"Well, I have the initial design for the actual panic button in the app figured out." she pointed at the circle in the center of one of the screen drawings. "Accessible by fingerprint ID to avoid accidental triggering, 4 digit codes for devices without fingerprint ID. Accidental triggering can only escalate a situation, we don't want that."

"Brilliant. What's the problem?" he asked, his eyes coming up to meet hers. He could see the stress behind them, the urge for the entire project to be as perfect as possible. In some way, he could see the drive and purpose in her.

"Well," she sighed, dropping the pencil down to comb her fingers through her hair. "It's missing something. I have some resource page ideas mapped out as well, but I don't think that's the best to open with. It might only add to the fright that will come when you're a woman about to press a panic button. Not to mention that the resources included are more for exploratory purposes, not immediate attention." she sighed again, falling forward against the desk with exhaustion and frustration.

He couldn't help but smile at her. She had what most people in their line of work lacked. She had compassion. She wasn't thinking about the dollar sign behind the creation, she was thinking about every woman who would walk the streets at night.

"Hey," he laughed softly, guiding her back upright. "You're incredibly smart, you know that right?" he asked, staring deeply into her eyes. She stuck her lower lip out, not quite answering his question. "I wouldn't have put you in this position if I didn't have the confidence that you'd figure it out. It'll come to you. Just give it time, okay?"

Her eyes softened, her pout turning into a small smile. "You're right," she ran her palm over his cheek, pressing a kiss against his lips. "Thank you for believing in me." she whispered, softly resting her forehead against his.

"Well, I have no choice. You're a big investment," he chuckled, earning a weak slap across the chest from Olivia. "It's already past 6:30, Liv. Come back to my place, you're tired." he pleaded, seeing the way she was wilting by the minute.

She opened her mouth to answer but the sound of her ringtone filled the room before she could speak. "Excuse me for a second," she muttered, standing up and stepping a few feet away to answer. "Monique, is everything okay?"

"You, me, Alex. We're going out tonight." Monique answered on the other line. "Alex got us into 1 Oak and we're leaving in a little bit. When will you be home?"

Olivia sighed with a heavy exhale, pressing her palm to her forehead. "Mo, I'm really tired. I've been working overtime and I don't think I have it in me tonight." She glanced over at Elliot who was giving her a sympathetic look.

"Liv, please! I haven't seen you in ages and it's been months since we've had a girls' night out!" she whined into the phone, and Olivia could already picture her pouting with slumped shoulders. "You've been dying to go to 1 Oak for months now, and you're really gonna blow it off now? For Stabler?"

Olivia flinched, praying Elliot hadn't overheard. "You're way off base!" she snapped. "Look, I'm sorry I haven't been around as much, okay? Can we please just do this another— you know what? Fine, I'll be there." she rolled her eyes, fully knowing that if she didn't just suck it up and go that she'd never hear the end of it.

"Atta girl! See you then."

Olivia dropped her phone down against the desk, crossing her arms over her chest. "Sorry about that," she grumbled. Elliot smiled softly at her, stepping closer before standing toe to toe with her.

"Don't apologize." he brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "I only wish you'd do what's best for you. You're obviously exhausted, I'd hate to see you burn out completely." his arms came around her waist, rocking her leisurely back and forth.

She grinned tiredly, throwing her arms over his shoulders. "Trust me, I'd much rather be at your place in that big bathtub with you." she smirked stepping on the toe of her heels to peck him on the lips. The smell of expensive cologne filled her nose, calming her almost instantly. "But I guess I do owe it to her. She's right, I haven't been around very much these past few weeks and I don't want her to think she can't depend on me."

"Depend on you?" he frowned with confusion. "I mean, is one night out gonna break that trust?"

"It's complicated." she said, staring up at him through her lashes. That had become her famous line lately; or at least the more he wanted to get to know about her. It's complicated. It's always been complicated. Her life wasn't really her life without complication, but neither was Monique's. "I'll explain more some other time. For now, I have to go drag myself out to some club in West Chelsea to prove that I haven't abandoned my friends."

"Well, at least try to have fun. Maybe I can take you up on that big bathtub offer tomorrow or Sunday. After you've got some good rest." he pressed a long kiss against the soft skin of her neck before releasing her from his hold.

"Only after I've rested? Well, then I'm tempted to skip the club and go home for an Ambien." she smirked, starting to walk away. She grabbed her phone from the desk and the coat laid over her purse. She spun on her heel, reaching up to clutch his chin between her thumb and forefinger. "See you soon." she punctuated with a kiss.

The lights were too bright, the music was too loud, and she started to wonder when she had become a 40-year-old woman. Her head throbbed every time the bass of the music changed and she swore she could hear her pillow calling her from miles away.

The three of them were seated in a private booth, drinks scattering the table. Monique was the first to grab a shot when more were delivered. "Cheers, to finally dragging Olivia away from her job and her billionaire boyfriend." she sloppily smiled in Olivia's direction which was promptly returned with a sneer.

"He's not my boyfriend!" she called out over the excruciating music. She let her shot sit on the table, instead deciding to nurse whatever fruity pink cocktail had been handed to her at the start. "Please excuse the fact that I'd rather be in bed with him than at a loud club after clocking in nearly 60 hours a week."

"So being in bed with him is also better than being at home with your two best friends?" Alex asked, just as drunk as Monique who she was currently pulling closer to her. "Sounds like he's gone some world class peni—"

"Alex!" Olivia barked at her, finally ripping the shot from the table and forcing it all down her throat. If she was gonna listen to them all night, she'd need as much alcohol as she could get. "I never said that I didn't want to be home. I'm just trying to balance it all!"

"That's why we dragged you here!" Monique raised her voice over the music again. "Work-life balance. If you can't do it, we can make you do it!" she curled inward to Alex, both of them giggling to each other.

She had a work-life balance. The only issue was the fact that her comfort zone was no longer in her own apartment with her friends. It was him, it was work, it was everything that had changed her life in a matter of weeks. That didn't help the guilt very much though. She knew Monique missed her. There was a time when they relied on each other for survival, attached at the hip and beyond. But her job was becoming more serious, her entire life was becoming more serious. She had the app to work on, her... situation with Stabler, not to mention her actual job of assisting him.

"I'm gonna go get us a few more shots." Alex called out, sliding out from the black leather booth. Olivia was afraid to look at Monique, afraid she'd see some sort of drunken resentment or disappointment in her eyes. She was being a buzzkill and she knew it.

Instead of dwelling further into her annoyance, she decided to do something about it. Pretty much all she could do; get drunk as hell. She swiped one of the drinks from the table, unsure of who it belonged to. All she knew was that it looked much stronger than the pink shit in the martini glass she had. She whipped her head back, pouring the remainder of the drink down her throat.

When she pulled back, she shuddered at the taste. Whatever it was, she could taste the strength of the tequila in it. She wanted to ignore the voices in her mind that told her all she was doing wrong. Maybe not just ignore them but gag them completely. One voice telling her what a shitty friend she is, the next telling her that she might as well just drink like her mother. The worst of all was the loudest one, telling her how terrible she was for dragging Elliot into her fucked up life.

As soon as Alex was back at the table, Olivia swiped the closest shot on the tray and knocked it back. Both of them looked at her with wide eyes, witnessing the sudden shift in Olivia's demeanor.

"You want me to party, let's party." she called out to them, slipping out from the booth and heading towards the dance floor. As soon as she was on her feet, she could feel the drinks beginning to settle within her. Her mind was going fuzzy, the exhaustion beginning to fade. Monique and Alex exchanged looks before shrugging it off and following her.

The lights flashed against the sequins of her black dress, reflecting throughout the room. She strode towards the center of the floor, each step working the drinks further into her system. A tingling warmth rose from her fingers up, relaxing every tense muscle in her body.

She allowed herself to drown in the music, bathing in the flash of the strobe lights. Her vision was stirring more and more as she moved, the room around her blurring and becoming a mixture of brightness and darkness. The burn of tequila still remained on her taste buds, but the burn was about the only thing left that she could feel.

The rhythm in the air changed as she danced, gliding around her rather than her body working against the centrifugal force of gravity. In the haze, she could see Alex and Monique on the floor together, moving with the beat of the music. She snapped her eyes shut, attempting to focus on nothing except the pounding bass in her ears.

She didn't want to see any of it. Not the scenery, not the lights, not the normal friday night life she had once loved. It was easier to pretend she liked it when her eyes were closed. But with every clench of her eyelids, foggy memories flashed through her mind.

'Focus on the music, Olivia.' she told herself. It wasn't working. The flashes came and went, reminding her of exactly where she wanted to be. The glass fireplace mounted into the wall across from Elliot's bed. No. His back as he'd stare longingly out from the office windows overlooking the city. No. The smile on his face as he'd jokingly left an egg McMuffin on her desk to remind her of their first breakfast together. No.

She didn't want to think of the silky amethyst colored sheets that he looked so elegant while wrapped up in. Instead, she wanted to think about the sequins on her dress digging painfully into her skin. She didn't want to think about the airy opera music that floated through his apartment, she wanted to think about the blaring loud rock that was currently deafening. The random bumps of strangers behind her, not the soft touch of his skin grazing hers with that devilish look in his eyes. Disgusting bitter alcohol, not expensive Napa Valley wines.

"Olivia!" Monique shouted over the music, her callings ignored. Olivia squeezed her eyes tighter, drowning herself in the music as if nobody else in the world existed. She needed the alone time with herself, anything to give her a minute to think. God, she just wanted to think, damnit! If the alcohol numbed her body and if the music blew her eardrums, maybe she could just think.

"Liv, look!" Monique tried again, shaking Olivia's arm. Her eyes begrudgingly opened, bringing her back down to Earth despite her greatest efforts to remain limitless. Monique pointed over Olivia's shoulder in the direction of the door.

She spun on her feet, squinting to get a better look. As soon as she laid eyes on him, her jaw fell slack. Elliot walked in, icy eyes sweeping the room from side to side. His fingers toyed with the sleeves of his army green shirt, exposing his forearms as he pushed them up three quarters length. It was rare to see him in casual wear, something so starkly different than his normal designer suits. In fact, she wasn't sure if she'd ever seen him in denim.

Without thinking, she started making a beeline towards the door. Her body collided with others as her equilibrium fell off kilter. She briefly wondered if she was about to make a complete idiot out of herself since he'd never seen her this drunk before.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, pulling his attention. He smirked at her, casually stepping closer to her. There wasn't much room for personal space with everyone pushing and pulling each other, so being pushed almost chest-to-chest with him wasn't shocking.

"How was I supposed to know that this was the same club in West Chelsea that you'd be at?" he asked with feigned confusion. "I figured I'd see what all the fuss about this place was for."

She grinned wrapping her arms around his waist, leaning her head back to stare at him. "So, you're stalking me now?"

"Oh, you wish." he rolled his eyes, leaning down to kiss her. He could taste the tequila on her mouth and feel it in her actions. With an unfamiliar aggression, her arm came up to the back of his neck to pull him down closer. She bit down on his lower lip, deciding to drown herself in him rather than just the liquor. The hands he had placed on her hips grip tighter as he feels the warmth radiating off of her. He could feel the vibrations of her moan as her fingernails dug into the nape of his neck.

She pulled away, out of breath and lips bruised. "Let's dance," she smiled. Before he could fit another word in, she grabbed his hand and led him to the floor. He could see simply from her footsteps that she had already had quite a bit to drink.

She thinks about the red lights of the elevator, the day he had hit the emergency stop and her entire life had stopped as well. This time, they're drenched in the purple lights that beam down from the ceiling in thin strands. Her life had shifted so much since she had witnessed the red lights fill his icy eyes. Red had turned purple and the strict rule of keeping herself away from temptation had shattered.

The song shifted as soon as they'd squeezed into an open space on the floor. She pressed her back to his torso, his arms trailing over her body with no clear path of direction. Her eyes closed again, allowing her to follow the euphoric mindset she had been searching for earlier. Though, it was different. He was here now, his fingertips gripping her ribs as she ground into him.

She didn't need to picture nirvana, she had found it.

Her head fell back as she released a soft yet strangled breath. She could feel his hand rising up to her breast torturously slow. He took advantage of the openness of her neck, craning his head down and dragging his tongue to her pulse point.

Her small hands made a stark contrast to the largeness of his as they covered his knuckles. She guided his movements with her own, pressing his touch harder against her body. She didn't bother to wonder what the people around them may think. They were all drunk anyway. Though, she knew he was a man who valued privacy above most.

Did he know what he was doing? The risk he posed to the empire of his personal life, the one he tried so hard to protect?

He was stepping into the fire. A public nightmare if anyone possibly recognized him. The tabloids never left him alone, constantly speculating on his marriages and his relationships. He was being stupid. Though, the minute she had slammed the shot glass down on the table, she had made the mutual decision to be just as stupid.

A match made in heaven. A human resources nightmare.

Her hands reached behind herself, hooking around the back of his neck as she pulled him down further. She could feel the zipper of his jeans digging into the thin fabric of her dress as she arched against him. Every inch of her body screamed to be closer to him, to touch him in some way or another.

She spun against him, her chest flush against his as she gave him a sultry grin. "Let's get out of here. We can go back to my place." she said, nipping at his lower lip. She could feel the quirk in his smile at the thought of screwing her in a new place. "I'll go tell Monique that we're leaving."

Given that her eyes had been closed, she hadn't seen that Monique had watched them as they danced. Alex had stopped her own movements when she felt Monique tense up. Though, the expression on her face hadn't been what Olivia would've expected to see had she seen it at all. It wasn't disgust or disappointment, it was genuine curiosity. An alarming wake up call that she hadn't seen Olivia relaxed in a long time, not until Stabler had shown up.

Olivia struggled her way through the wave of people, spotting the familiar faces a few feet away. It was completely lost on her that Monique looked slightly shaken up.

She stared at Elliot and Olivia in disbelief, tinged with the regret of mocking Olivia. She didn't trust Stabler. Hell, she didn't trust any man in a position of large power. Yet, she hadn't quite witnessed Olivia relax so easily. She had never seen the guard melt away from her best friend so fast.

Rather than bringing her comfort, it filled her with dread. She and Olivia both knew the flying embers of hell, she knew any sort of vulnerability was never in the cards for either of them. Where there was supposed to be happiness for her best friend, there was the fear that she would be left to clean up the inevitable mess that would come when heaven transformed back into hell.

Once Olivia had finally become close enough, Monique was practically out of breath. "Are you gonna hate me if I leave a little early?" Olivia asked, her volume fighting over the music.

Monique stared at her, not exactly sure how she felt about any of this, let alone being ditched. "Uh, no, that's fine. I'll see you back home later!" she waved her hand as nonchalantly as she could, trying to wash away her fears with the smile on Olivia's face.

Olivia wrapped Monique into a hasty hug, kissing her on the cheek before running back off into the crowd.

The way she tumbled into bed with him wasn't steady nor graceful. Electricity thrummed from her spine down, every nerve in her body begging for him. She managed to roll him to his back, fighting for traction on the bed so she could climb over top of him. With swift movements, his shirt was discarded to the floor. Her palms grazed over the smooth skin of his chest, the warmth of his body tangling with her own.

"Get the— get the belt," she muttered, helplessly fumbling with the metal clip. He knew it was pointless for her, she couldn't see an inch in front of her let alone his belt in the dark. His hands reached down under the covers, quickly undoing his belt and zipper before kicking the jeans off. Her hands immediately fell to his erection, wasting no time stroking him in her palm.

"Lift your arms," he ordered, grabbing the slinky black dress by the hem and pulling it over her head. He let out a deep groan when he'd realized she had ditched the panties for the night. She released his cock from her grip, grabbing his wrist instead. She guided his touch down to her core, earning a satisfied moan as his fingers dragged through her wetness.

She leaned down over him, her breath in hot puffs against his ear "Let me ride you, Elliot." she whispered, her words slurred pleasure rather than just the alcohol. She was beginning to sober up anyway, an effect he always managed to hold over her. When she rose herself back upright, she could see the apprehension in his eyes. Despite her state and the darkness of the bedroom, she could read him as clear as day. 'Tonight, you can. Tomorrow, you're mine.'

As she reached down to grab his length, he curled forward into her, watching as she slowly lowered herself onto him. A breathy gasp fell from her lips, attempting to take in as much of him as she could in one go. In her mind, there was no time for teasing or preperation, she needed him more than she needed air to breathe.

She rose up until he barely had an inch within her before she tried again, biting her lip as she took in more and more of him. Through his own heavy breathing, Elliot's hands came up to release the clip of her bra. She managed to pull the last remaining article of clothing from her body with little effort, throwing it into the pile on the floor. His palms smoothed over both of her breasts, pinching her nipples as he worked the skin.

With one final thrust, she let out a harsh whimper when she became fully seated on him. Her head tipped backwards, her hips picking up a slow rhythm as she took the lead. Any cry came uninhibited, suppressing her usual habit of trying to remain quiet no matter where they were.

As she further adjusted to his size, he could feel the tension in her moves. She was rushed, riding him as if it would be her last chance. A voice in his head told him that he should slow her down, but the stronger voice in his head was telling him to match her intentions.

She was harnessing the control that he was usually in charge of.

It wasn't an unwelcome change, but rather something that struck a bolt of curiosity into him.

His hands moved up her back, his fingertips ghosting over her ribs before clutching tighter. She leaned forward as she continued to fuck herself against him, white-knuckling the headboard for leverage. Uninhibited cries poured from her lungs, the sensation of his warmth wrapping her up.

Through the darkness of her bedroom, he could see the way her eyes squeezed shut. She was alone in her own little world, experiencing the whole and entire feeling of simply him. Drowning herself in the glorious sensation of burning nerves and unbridled pleasure.

His hands came away from her ribs, pushing back the duvet so he could stroke her legs. Where her thighs met his hips, his thumbs grazed the velvety skin. Her grip on the headboard became tighter as he ghosted his touch along the inner side of her legs. He felt her grow wetter as she worked harder to feel every inch of him within her.

His right hand came away from her thigh, cupping her breast as he lifted slightly off of his back. She leaned forward just enough for him to run his tongue across her nipple. He sucked the ruthlessly hard bud, his lips teasingly working the entire area as she fell deeper into the blinding lights of adrenaline.

He was overcome with the sudden urge to take over her. To exert the power that both of them knew he harnessed. He had been meticulous about holding off, constantly fighting the feeling to show her every single thing he wanted to do to her body. Yet, he continued to try to ease into it. It was her power that caused him to fail.

He released her breast from his mouth, working harder in tandem with her motions rather than allowing her the right to completely take over him. "Fuck, Elliot!" she cried louder, his cock pulsing against every sensitive spot inside of her. On an undeniable whim, his hand came down against her ass, slapping against her cheek as her pace only furthered. She could feel her fingers aching as she held tighter onto the headboard, though she couldn't bring herself to release it. She craved the gravity, the raw need for him to meld with her as much as possible.

It took every ounce of his willpower not to flip her over and take her from behind. He could feel something within her movements, a desperate need to chase the pleasure rather than something else. Whatever it was she was running from, he couldn't put his finger on it. She was searching for everything about him that could blind her, to melt reality away. She wanted it, it was only fair that he gave it to her.

"Are you close?" he rasped, whispering despite the fact that the entire apartment was empty. Still lost in her own world, she aimlessly nodded. Her head fell back, her breath coming in shivers as she felt the thrill within her growing unbearable.

When his hand came to her neck, she bit her lip with a high-pitched whine. His finger squeezed beneath the sides of her jawbone, gripping down on the thrumming pulse points beneath her skin. The lip between her teeth quivered as he stilled her own writhes against him. The power she held over him drained away with the force of his hips, his control over the movements only adding to the wetness that enveloped him.

If she had the power to open her eyes, she would see the fire in his eyes that she had become acquainted with. Maybe even molten this time, something much stronger and more fierce than she had seen before. But she was busy focusing on the stars behind her lids as his hand pinched her neck harder.

He felt her tighten against him, and with the tell-tale sign of her orgasm, he released the grip on her throat. As soon as his hand came away, she was sucked into the whirlwind of lightheadedness from both the sudden reconnection with oxygen and the intensity of her orgasm. Her grasp on the headboard was quickly replaced with her hands clutching his shoulders. She was deaf to her own cries, the intensity of her world exploding around her leaving her senseless to anything except for the feeling of him.

When her high began to subside, she could still feel the stiffness of his cock inside of her. She finally opened her eyes with the actual ability to see again. She could see the pained look on his face as her movements stilled. She leaned forward, nose to nose with him as she pressed sloppy kisses against his lips.

"Let me make you cum," she whispered, practically pleading with him. Hell, she had already taken almost all of his control already, it wasn't exactly like he wanted to deny himself this opportunity.

He groaned as the history of her arousal dripped down his cock. She moved her hips torturously slow, her hands coming up to cradle him by the back of his head. His hands roamed down her body, clutching her ass cheeks where he'd left a red palm print.

"You're so close, El. I can feel it." she murmured, wincing at how sensitized she had already become. She picked up the pace, focusing solely on him and his climax. His breathing became heavier with each passing second, her hands roaming around his chest as she egged him on. She leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "Cum inside me, Daddy."

Another audible moan erupted from his chest. She knew exactly which buttons to press to send him over the edge. His hips rose from the bed only a few more times before one hand held her hip and the other gripped tightly into her hair, thrusting deep inside of her as he filled her with his warmth.

They both crashed against each other, fighting for the return of their breath. Olivia's palm landed on his chest as her head came down to rest on his shoulder. She could feel the warmth thrumming under his skin as the stress of the long week melted away.

His arms pulled her tighter against him and he felt her breathing beginning to slow into a steady rhythm. She was out cold before her cheek even hit his collarbone. He craned his neck to look down at her, smiling softly as he ran his hands through her hair.

The wave of sleep was upon him, he could feel the heaviness in his eyelids as he fought it off to stare at her for just a little bit longer. With each blink, he felt himself losing the battle that called him to sleep.

The last thought that graced his mind was how fucking perfect she looked while bundled in his arms. She was an enigma to him.

On her way to her own bedroom for the night, Monique tiredly trudged down the hallway of the apartment. She paused at Olivia's room, staring at the shut door as if she'd magically be able to know if Olivia was inside. Worry rose in her chest as she wondered if Olivia was okay. Did she come home? Did she go to Stabler's? Was she safe?

Despite the nagging voice in her head telling her to leave it be, the anxiety won. She cautiously opened the door just enough to peek inside.

She gulped as she stared at the picture displayed in front of her. Wrapped up in the sheets, Elliot Stabler slept with Olivia held contently in his arms. Olivia's head rested against his bare chest, flowing with the rise and fall of each breath.

Monique's hand fell away from the door handle, a quiet sigh filling the silence.

They looked happy.

She looked safe.

Olivia wore a soft grin as she remained oblivious to the world around her, his protective arm thrown over her naked back.

She felt guilty and nothing but. Guilty for wanting her best friend to herself. Guilty for expecting the relationship — or whatever it was, to fail. Olivia had taken care of her since the day they had met, taking her under her wing like a sister would. She hated herself for being more worried about losing that rather than having Olivia be happy.

She carefully shut the door, leaving them to sleep the night away, and for herself to sulk.

When he woke up the next morning, the rising sun flashed through the curtains. He felt the weight of her body resting against him, blissfully unaware of the world around her. His lips curled into a soft smile as he pushed a strand of hair from her cheek.

The silence in the apartment left him questioning if he was the only one awake, or if anyone else is there at all. He'd prefer the apartment to themselves in all selfishness, but the assumption would be dangerous.

He slipped out from the bed, careful not to wake her from her deep sleep as he retrieved his clothes from the foot of the bed. He watched as she tossed in her sleep, snuggling deeper into the indentation of where his warm body had previously lied.

He slid into his jeans as quietly as he could, carefully watching for any sign that he'd disrupted her. When he turned to fasten his belt into place, he spotted a frame on the wall shelf. He furrowed his brows as he stared at it, cautiously picking it up from its place. His hand carefully swept the dust off of the silver ornate frame, his eyes instantly falling onto a young girl with dark brown hair and matching eyes. Before he could stop himself, his head whipped around behind him to look at the sleeping woman. When his eyes reacquainted with the photo, he realized the resemblance. Beside the young Olivia was a photo of an unfamiliar woman.

The resemblance died with the woman's blonde hair and blue eyes. They looked to be what most would call happy. Though, he could see it in both of their eyes. People like them, lives dysfunctional, they were trained to see the secrets in the irises. Any family photo of himself and his family was the same; smiles on the mouth but closed doors everywhere else.

The young Olivia looked as if she was told to smile. That's how they always looked. A command followed, an order obeyed. A lie. He wondered that if he weren't aware of her mother's tragic passing and the state of how it came to be, would he still spot it? Would he still be able to tell that little Olivia had probably cried that night? Or was it just his default setting now given that his childhood had the same experience. Always obeying.

If he knew any better, he wouldn't assume it was her mother in the photo. Though, he doesn't know better. He doesn't know her. He only assumes because she hasn't spoken a word about her father and how she might resemble him or anyone else for that matter. She's so young in the photo, he assumes it's the year her mother died. It pulls at his heart when he realizes that his daughter is the same age as Olivia was when her mother passed. Though they look nothing alike, he assumes that the woman in the photo was all she had.

And as faux-happy as Olivia looks in the photo, his heart broke for her. Between that captured moment and the Olivia he knows now, it is left almost entirely blank to him. Her story is elusive and guarded, her traumas are kept deeply hidden.

He carefully set the photo back to where it lives on the shelf and when he turned to take a look at her, his heart clenched again. He could see the sleepy smile that broke through and the safety she felt surrounded by the nothingness of slumber. She survived, he thought to himself. Pride filled his lungs. Though, his mind wandered to what exactly it was that she has survived between then and now.

As soon as he was reasonably dressed, he quietly left the room.

He wasn't exactly sure of what his intentions were with wandering and he felt guilty for the urge to snoop even further. Breakfast in bed wouldn't hurt. As soon as he walked into the kitchen, he spotted the familiar roommate standing at the counter as she looked over the newspaper. "Oh... Uh, hello. I don't think we've been formally introduced, you must be Monique." he walked closer, sticking his hand out for an unreciprocated shake.

"You must be Stabler." She didn't move or even flinch at his presence, her eyes keeping a strong grip on his. "We didn't have much time to be introduced, y'know, with you swooping in and all last night." She said, taking a sip from her coffee mug.

Elliot chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to intrude."

"Didn't you?" She smirked, seeing him tense up. "Relax, I'm just busting your balls." Though, her tone wasn't that convincing. "So, you two seem to be pretty taken with each other." she said as she leaned against the kitchen island, narrowing her eyes in his direction.

He stopped for a moment, carefully articulating what he wanted to say next. "Well, we're taking it day by day." He replied, refusing to allow the impromptu interrogation to throw him off. "We enjoy each other's company."

She huffed out something resembling a single chuckle. "So I've gathered."

He smiled, sucking air through his teeth while trying to maintain some semblance of neutrality between them. "I get it if you don't like me, that's fine. I should've taken the time to get to know everybody before I —"

"It's not that I don't like you," she cut him off, giving him an incredulous look. "It's that I don't trust you. All of you Fortune 500 guys, it's all dishonesty and business. I think you can imagine my worry when I see my best friend becoming entangled into that. Y'know, I can't help but fear for her."

He had to appreciate the smugness and confidence in her tone. He was used to the cower, to the way people would shiver if they looked in his direction. Yet she remained unperturbed. "I understand that. I've met my fair share of those kinds of people in my line of work."

"Look," she smiled again, giving a deep exhale. "Let's not dance around this, alright? You terrify some people. A lot of people, I assume. But you don't terrify me. In fact, I think I might actually terrify you. That's the thing about people like me, we've seen things. We've been through things. The fear you instill in people is only mechanical, but people like me have feared much worse." her hands slid across the counter as she moved closer towards the side. "So, believe me when I tell you that if you even breathe one wrong breath in her direction, I will ruin you. I do not care who you are or how much money you wave around. I will hunt you down come hell or high water and let me be clear, I am both the hell and the high water."

Nose to nose with her, Elliot narrowed his eyes in return. His icy stare refused to penetrate beyond the glare in her eyes. "Understood." he rasped.

"Good!" she chirped, her mood taking an entire 180°. "Now, normally I'd bust you up some more, measure how much you can take, see how weak you are. I'm not gonna do that because for the first time in our lives, I've seen a side of Olivia come out that seems almost happy. I would like for her to remain happy, despite the epic lack of trust I have in you. I owe her everything, she saved my life, so I'm not gonna ruin this for her. I expect the same out of you." she grinned, turning away from him to refill her coffee mug.

Elliot leaned back, his expression filling with concern. He replayed the words in his mind, trying to wrap his head around the millions of scenarios that played out. "Saved your life? How so?"

Monique spun on her heel, casting a look of doubt towards him. "You don't know?" she asked, genuine confusion altering her demeanor. She watched as the ice in his eyes melted, worry replacing every emotion he could convey.

Olivia wasn't an open book, he'd learned that from their first night together. Pushing her to open up always seemed to be a faster method of pushing her away. He knew her mother had died and that she was given a scholarship in her mother's honor. Nothing less, nothing more. "No?" he whispered almost to himself. The mystery of Olivia washed over him like a wave, reminding him of how much he truly did want to know about her.

Monique shot him a look of pity before it transformed back into a subtle smugness. "Well, I guess you don't know everything." she mumbled into her coffee cup, just barely loud enough for him to overhear.

"She uh... she doesn't tell me much." he scratched the back of his head, thinking of the photograph he had seen earlier. "I try not to push her. Don't get me wrong though, I'd listen to whatever it is about herself that she shares, and I wish she'd share more." He looked around the room, feeling his voice fall quieter as he spoke. "Like how she affords such a nice place."

Monique set her mug down, her brows knitting together as the realization dawned on her that despite what she had thought, Olivia truly was closing herself off. She'd hoped that her best friend had opened just a bit more, especially to the man who seemed to have an effect on her like no other. "Wow, she really didn't tell you..." she whispered, her words sounding just as hollow as his.

When he toed back down the hall, he opened her bedroom door with caution. Expecting her to still be exhausted, he didn't bother to wake her as he gathered his things. His jacket and shoes were strewn at the foot of the bed, next to the glittery black dress she had worn the night previous.

"Don't go," she spoke softly, alerting him of her consciousness. His head whipped around to see her deep brown eyes staring at him. He grinned, walking to the edge of the bed where she started to sit upright. The sheets gathered around her chest, barely covering the naked skin of her torso.

"I have some stuff I gotta catch up on and you're exhausted, Liv." he whispered back, stroking her cheek. She softly nuzzled her head against his palm, giving him a blissful grin.

"Thank you for showing up last night." she shifted closer to the edge, basking in the warmth that filled her as a sliver of light bled through the curtains and doused his skin. "I didn't wanna be there."

"I know," he replied, his voice huskier than moments before. "I probably shouldn't have invaded but I was worried. You've been working yourself to the bone." the thumb that rested on her cheek moved slowly down to her bottom lip, stroking the plump pink skin. Her eyes closed as the ridges of his fingerprints only brought more heat to her skin. "I really should go,"

"No, wait." she reached out to stop him, grabbing his wrists with a small but sultry grin. "Let me actually thank you," while his brows raised, her eyes fell to the zipper of his jeans that was now at her height. She pressed the bed sheets further against her chest as she brought herself closer to him.

Wordlessly, her fingers slowly worked to undo his belt, prying down the metal of the zipper with a torturously slow pace. She could hear the deep breath he sucked into his lungs as the sight of her began to overwhelm him. She was the closest thing to being on her knees beneath him and he forced himself to mentally capture the entire picture in front of him.

She pushed his jeans just past the bones of his hips, her hands delicately creeping between the fabric of the denim. His breath shivered as she grazed the length hidden behind the layer of underwear. Her palm stroked him, feeling him growing harder against her touch. When he looked down, he was met with the image of her intently focusing on her goal.

Holding back the urge to forcefully take control, he opted to carefully thread his fingers through her hair. She looked up at him with a smirk as his face contorted into restrained desire. His moans were muffled by the pressure of him pursing his lips, fearing the other occupants in the apartment may overhear.

Her fingertips pried beneath the waistband, pulling them down slowly until his erection sprung free. He heaved a deep breath out as she unconsciously licked her lips, softly taking him into her palm. As she ghosted her grip over his cock, his hand came down from her hair, his thumb falling back to her mouth. She glanced up at him, allowing his thumb to dip between her lips.

He stifled another groan, his eyes closing on instinct as it all became too much. Her hand continued to work down his length, coaxing him to grow harder with each massaging touch.

Her lips puckered against his thumb, swiping her tongue against it before releasing it. He could see the want growing in her eyes and he couldn't help but note how stunning she looked when she had a look of unwarranted innocence in her eyes. His nerves fried at the thought of her wanting to taste him. Wanting to feel the weight of him between her lips. It was a thought that invaded his mind day in and day out, but he'd never pushed.

She looked ethereal beneath him, the message in her eyes completely in sync with him. The auburn glow of her hair was caught in the light and never in his life had he seen someone look so much like a goddess on their way to do sinful things.

When she leaned forward just barely an inch, the sensitized tip of his cock brushed against the silk skin of her lips. A shutter ran down his spine, hitching the breath in his lungs. He used all of his force to keep his feet planted on the ground, fearing that if he unwound himself, he would push too far.

His fingers grazed the back of her scalp as his head fell slightly back. He couldn't watch as she swiped her tongue slowly the delicate skin, carefully sampling the taste of him. "Olivia," he gave a shaky murmur, making the mistake of looking down to see the wide brown eyes staring back at him.

He liked testing her, but she liked testing him too, which was all he could boil it down to. She was not the most delicate woman in the world and he had a growing suspicion her gentle actions were only to rile him up further. Though, he couldn't bring himself to care this time around, not as soon as the head of his cock disappeared between her lips and was met with the velvet touch of her tongue.

His body shuttered again, his knees buckling as her tongue swirled around him, her hand still smoothly stroking the rest of him. She released him from her mouth, dragging her tongue up the underside of him with a featherlight touch. She was begging. A different beg that didn't come from cries of pleasure. She was begging him to react, to melt beneath her fingertips. Goddamnit, he was about to.

When her head bobbed back down against him, she slid more of him into her mouth. His breathing continued to speed up, constrained groans sounding from above her. She could feel the energy of him thrumming throughout him, and each drop of self restraint he had being used.

Her free hand gripped his hip, steadying herself as she swirled her tongue and sucked harder. Her pace was beginning to pick up as soon as testing the waters became owning them. She owned him in that moment, and in every sense but literal, he was the one on his knees for her

Stars formed behind his eyelids when he grazed the insides of her cheeks. His hand no longer cradled the base of her neck, rather gripping it instead. He fought to keep the unutilized force that beat through his body with each thump of his heart at bay, doing everything in his power to contain the urge to fuck himself into her mouth.

Taking him by surprise, her gentle movements stopped and turned into something that nearly took him off of his feet. She took in his entirety with one swift motion, sliding his cock against her tongue. She held him there for a moment, one hand gripping the base of him while the other dug her nails into his ass. There was no hiding the noise that ripped from his chest. His eyes fell forward, watching her grow accustomed to the feeling as she swallowed around him.

She pulled away, her tongue sliding alongside of him as she released him with a gentle pop. He could hear her chuckle under her breath as her hand resumed the work. He allowed himself the leeway to thrust his hips as his length against her grip. He fought to catch his breath, unaware that he had even been holding it in as long as he had.

The smirk on her lips and the mischief in her eyes nearly sent him into a spiral. She knew what she was doing to him and how every little movement broke him down piece by piece. She guided him between her lips again, settling both hands on his hips before taking him all in once more. He bit into his fist as her nose bumped against his abs, the way she hallowed her cheeks pushing him closer over the edge.

She sucked harder, claws digging deeper into her grip on his hips. He didn't bother ending the thrusting movements that his body involuntarily gave, not when it seemed to light her fire even more. Her tongue drew delicate designs around him, her hands leaving his hips to ride up under his shirt and palm the taut skin of his chest.

"Liv," he muttered in what sounded like a cry falling on deaf ears. "Liv, please." he wasn't sure of what he was begging for, or why he was begging at all. Elliot Stabler didn't beg, but apparently he did a lot of things when she wanted him to. She had a certain ease with taking charge, something entirely foreign for him to witness.

But the track her tongue left and the softness of her hallowed cheeks, he didn't really give a fuck.

"Olivia, you have to stop." he pleaded, trying to steady her head to no avail. "Olivia, I'm gonna cum." The warning was useless and her pace only picked up further. Her eyes opened, searching until they found his. She could easily see the helplessness within him as his legs trembled, hurdling him off the edge of no return.

She held tighter onto his hips, refusing to let him pull away from her. The string of profanities leaving his mouth grew more harsh as she sucked harder. Like a wave crashing against dry land, his climax overtook every nerve in his body. The pearlescent heat of his orgasm spilled into her mouth with the bucking of his hips. He steadied her head without warning, crying out in a strangled moan as she swallowed around him one last time.

When she pulled away, she swiped her smile and any remnants of him with the back of her hand. He struggled to catch his breath, his legs threatening to give out from beneath him. She lifted herself from the position she sat in, planting her knees on the bed so she would be eye level with him. Her arms wrapped around his neck, the sheets falling from her form to reveal her body still unclothed from the night previous.

"I tried to warn you," he said breathlessly, his hands falling to her bare hips. She closed the gap between them, bringing him in for a deep and ferocious kiss. For a moment he wondered if she wanted him to taste himself on her lips, but the thought ceased when she pulled away.

"I know," she grinned, her voice dropping to a whisper. "But spitters are quitters." her forehead fell tiredly against his, her nipples hardening from brushing against the fabric of his henley. Her body swayed against him as his palms moved down from her hips to her ass.

"And all that was simply a 'thank you' for barging into girl's night?" he asked, nipping at bottom lip as she chuckled.

"More or less," she hummed, unwrapping her arms from around his neck to help tuck himself back into his pants. "Maybe I knew it would get me a nice reward in return."

The corners of his lips turned into a cheshire grin. "Good girl," he mumbled against her lips, kissing her one last time before she knelt back down to cover her exposed body. "I suppose I should start thinking of ways to repay you for that favor."

"I suppose so," she smirked before sudden realization dawned on her. "Wait! Can you hand me the notebook and pencil on my desk? I just thought of the solution for the Red Light home page!"

He scuffed with a laugh. "You're turning into me, work on the mind all the time!"

"Hurry!" she giggled. "I don't wanna forget!" she reached her hands out frantically as he handed her the notepad, instantly scribbling down the reference of her idea. Intrigued, he stood beside her as she sketched it out. "The opening page, it'll be fake. It can have a custom setting to look like a newspaper page or the Uber app, a bunch of options." she said as she rapidly drew out the mockup. "Something discrete so if someone following them sees them opening it, they won't know what's about to happen. If someone following a woman sees them opening a familiar panic button, they may be inclined to attack sooner. This will disguise the main opening screen and the entry to the panic button itself can be in the bottom center."

Elliot pulled back and looked at her with disbelief, a proud smile blooming in the corners of his mouth. "I think you might be a genius." he leaned down, pressing a long kiss to her cheek.

His eyes flashed to the photograph on the shelf and back to the woman in front of him, the pride growing. Whatever she had gone through, she had survived in spades. She'd grown up from the girl with the sad eyes into the woman with the strong ideas.

She was changing his life.

"I'll see you soon." he whispered, departing from her as she shut off the world around her to do what she did best.