Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.

"That's it..." Olivia said, almost frozen. "That was my last one."

Closing the file on his desk as slowly and quietly as he could, he looked around. "I'm not gonna jinx it this time. Let's go," he said fast, and he stood up and grabbed his keys.

She followed him out the doorway, her jacket in her hand, and she chuckled to herself as she checked her watch. "Early," she said softly. "Almost too early. We sure we got the guy?"

"Open and shut case," he said with a shrug. "We had evidence even the best defense couldn't argue, and it, uh, it helps he confessed once we brought up his sister." They both turned, heading for the stairs, and seemed to race each other down, their laughter bouncing off the stone walls in the stairwell. Once they reached the lobby, though, they slowed down and walked through it with a too-professional expression on each of their faces. They nodded at colleagues and waved at the clerks at the desk, and when they pushed through the glass doors and the cool, night air hit them, they exhaled together and shared another laugh.

"God, it's like the best game of 'who's-got-the-button' ever," he joked, holding out his hand to her.

She dropped her fingers into his palm and smiled at him. "No, but we both got the button," she said with a wink. She looked up and shook her head. "I can't believe that guy was..."

"No more work," he said, suddenly stopping and turning to her. He pressed a finger to her lips. "Not one more word about work, okay?"

She tilted her head but nodded.

"Good," he said, returning her earlier wink, and he pulled her hand again, setting them off in the direction of his car. He opened the door for her, watched as she settled in, and ran around to the driver's side. He paused before he got in, and he looked up. He took a deep breath and let it out sharply, and then he whispered, "You can't be mad at me for this." A soft wind blew and he took it as an answer, smiled, and finally got in the car. He buckled his seat-belt after closing the door, jammed the key in, and started it up. "We, uh, we aren't going home. There's someplace I want to take you first."

"Oh, really?" she asked, one eyebrow arched. "Where, exactly?"

"You'll see," he said, "I'm just glad we got out while the night is still young, because I really didn't want to wait for the weekend to do this."

"Do what?" she asked, curiosity mixing with worry.

He smiled at her again. "Maureen...was happy. When I called to check on the kids, she was...she was fucking happy. I haven't heard her sound like that in almost a year." He glanced at her as he turned the wheel. "That's all your fault, Liv." He took a breath and looked back toward the road. "That's why...I need to do this, now."

She narrowed both eyes at him, then, and pressed her lips together. "You're scaring me."

He laughed, but reached over the console and grabbed her hand. "Nothing to be scared of, baby." He gripped her hand and raised it to his lips, kissed the back of her hand, and then curled both of their tangled hands around the gear shift.

The drive was quiet, but not uncomfortable, and fifteen minutes after leaving the precinct, the car slowed to a stop on a patch of loose gravel under a bridge. She looked at him quizzically. "Where are we?"

"You don't remember? Geez, honey, it hasn't been that long. Look! Think!"

She furrowed her brows, looked around again, and a realization hit her. "Our first case," she said with a small, light gasp.

He nodded and unhooked his safety belt. He crooked his finger at her and gave her a wicked grin.

"What are you..." she stopped, her eyes slitted a bit, and she smirked right back at him. "Playful little pup tonight, aren't you?" she quipped, and then unclipped her own seat-belt and crawled over the center console toward him.

"Pup?" he scoffed, sliding his hands over her hips. He pulled her badge off and tossed it onto the dashboard, and then tugged her gun out of its holster and dropped it onto the empty seat. "Full-grown bulldog," he mumbled, as he raised himself up and kissed her hard. He wrapped a hand around the back of her neck and pulled her with him as he flattened back down, his free hand pulling the lever and lowering his seat.

She took the hint, her own hands beginning to maneuver and work his shirt buttons open. She nipped at his lips as she dragged her nails over his chest.

He moaned softly, and then growled a bit as he moved both hands toward her black pants. He pushed, pulled, tugged, jostled, finally getting them to obey him. He rolled them over her hips and laughed when she shimmied out of them.

Her dexterous fingers made quick work of his fly, shoved their way into and under the fabric of his jeans, and found him ready and eager. She moaned into his mouth as she pulled him free, stroking him lightly and slowly, waiting for him to make the next move.

"This is where it started," he whispered as he kissed her. "You and me, this...right here." He moved his lips to her neck and suckled as he moaned. He grabbed the thin elastic waistband of her silk underwear and pushed them downward, and with both hands on her ass, he moved her up his body and settled her directly over him.

She threw her head back as she felt him lowering her onto him, and the more she took him in, the louder her moan became. She knew no one could hear her. "Oh my God, Elliot," she breathed, whipping her head forward again and looking down at him. "What the hell are we doing?" she laughed.

He shook his head and brushed her thumb over her lips. "Don't," he said. He gave a light buck upward, making her moan, and he looked into her eyes.

Holding his gaze, almost too intensely, she began to move. Rocking slowly at first before sliding her body off and away, and then back onto him, deeper every time.

He swallowed hard and shut his eyes tight, holding onto every feeling he had, focusing on every sensation. When he opened his eyes, her nose was a hair away from his. "Faster," he commanded in a whisper, brushing her dampening hair out of her eyes and kissing her.

She moved faster, in waves, her fingers curling around his shoulders for leverage and grip. Her nails dug into his flesh when she felt him moving with her now, hitting upward and thrusting his body against hers. In the back of her mind, she remembered the details of their first moments together, as partners. The first argument they'd had, in the front seat of the very car they were in now; the first battle over motive and difference of opinion over evidence; the first time they'd said the same exact thing at the same exact time, and how soon they began to read each other's minds and body language; he had been right, it had all started right here. "Oh, my God," she whimpered, feeling a hard thrust hit her and snap her out of her reverie. "El," she cried, gritting her teeth.

"I know baby," he said, his teeth grazing a purpling spot on the top of her left breast, where he'd been sucking. "Hold on, wait for me," he mumbled, taking her nipple into his mouth. Her loud gasp and clenching muscles made him even harder, though he wasn't sure it was possible, and he moaned as he twisted his body in an attempt to work his right hand between their bodies.

"Oh, God, Elliot!" she cried again, in response to his fingers somehow finding her clit and rubbing hard. "Can't...hold...fuck," she panted. Her lips found his hard, fast pulse and she bit around it, a bit of his neck now throbbing against her tongue. She screamed in frustrated pleasure as he worked harder to drive her crazy.

"Fuck, Liv," he growled gruffly, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead, down his back, across his chest. "Oh, God, baby," he moaned, letting his head fall back against the car seat. He growled again and moved his body faster, harder, meeting hers thrust-for-thrust until finally he gave her permission and whispered, softly, "Let go."

Their groans and cries competed in volume and pitch; their hands gripped at bits of skin and muscle as they blindly thrashed and combusted. He felt her tighten and suck him in deeper, holding him in, tight. She felt him explode beneath her, inside of her, for her. Her body crumpled onto his, her lungs burning with need for fresh air as her heart pounded faster than it ever had. He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, anywhere his lips could reach, as he whispered to her over-and-over.

With closed eyes and a smile that seemed to wrap full around her head, she nestled against him, shivered in aftershock, and said, "I love you, too."

"Marry me," he heard himself say, and the words seemed to shock him as much as they had her. Both bodies stiffened, both heads turned, and when their eyes met, he opened and closed his mouth like a freshly caught fish. "I...I didn't..." but he licked his lips and realized, yes, he fucking actually did. "Liv," he panted, blinking slowly and catching one, final breath just in case she killed him after he repeated, "Marry me."

Still shimmering with a light layer of cold sweat, still struggling to regulate her breathing, and still staring into his eyes with a stunned pair of her own, she kissed him. Her fingers flitted up his body, she felt the goose-bumps form under her hands. She smoothed them along his shoulders, his neck, until they wound in his short, damp hair. She moved her tongue slowly, dancing with his, no noise accompanied her breathy moans. She pulled away and gave him three small, quick pecks, slowly disbursing them on his mouth and chin, until she stopped and looked at him again.

"Was that...was that a 'yes?" he asked, part of him wondering if maybe, just maybe, it was a kiss goodbye.

She moved toward him again. Slowly, she kissed him again, and when she pulled back this time, she smiled. "Yes," she said, sounding certain.

He laughed and pulled her into him again, kissing her a bit harder, a bit more aggressively, chuckling against her lips. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, and locked her in place with his powerful thighs. He had her, now, and he was holding onto her forever.

For dear life.

Peace and Love