Author's note: You may or may not have realized that after my initial burst of stories, there has been a dry spell of sorts (true, it's only a week, but still). You should expect this from now on. School's back in session. You are, however, more than welcome to indulge in my writings from other fandoms. My style transcends genres.

Disclaimer: I do not now, nor will I ever, own these characters. I'm just not that cool.

Between a rock and a hard place. That's how the saying goes. And it's exactly what Olivia was experiencing.

Elliot entered the room in a huff and Olivia followed immediately, slamming the door so hard the glass shuddered in its pane.

Not that shutting the door would keep anyone from hearing the partners argue.

"What the hell was that, Elliot?"

"It was an interrogation!"

"My ass! Elliot, the MacCarthy Trials were an interrogation compared to what I just saw in that room!"

"I'm just trying to get some answers from him!"

"Why don't you clamp some jumper cables to his nipples and crank up the voltage?"

"Don't be snide. He's uncooperative!"

"He's fifteen! Jesus, Elliot!"

"You know what, Liv, I've got a fourteen-year-old girl in a coma, and this kid is the only witness we have," he hissed quietly, his frosty azure gaze six inches from her burning russet stare.

She refused to be intimidated by his tactics. "That boy in there is scared half to death from witnessing a crime, and you're not helping," she whispered back through clenched teeth.

"Maybe he's scared we'll discover that he's the one who did it." Elliot resumed his yelling without backing away from her.

"And maybe if you'd read the M.E.'s report you'd know that he couldn'thave done it!" she snapped back, not missing a beat. "Or were you too busy being a complete assho—"

"We should probably intervene," Munch stated disinterestedly, making no move and displaying no sign of actually wanting to do any such thing.

"I'm sure they'll work it out," Fin shrugged.

"No offense, Detective Bensonbut I've been doing this job a little longer than you have."

"Oh, please," she spat, "don't give me that righteous 'I've got more experience than you' bullsh—"

But the rest of her words were lost as Elliot's lips were suddenly on hers.

"Screw you," she mumbled into his mouth, running her palms across his abs and around to his back.

"Screw you," he replied, his fingers racing across her cheeks and through her hair.

Any further argument was suppressed as their tongues became otherwise engaged. Elliot pressed her up against the wall and she bit his lip a little more forcefully than she normally would.

He either didn't notice or didn't care. This bothered Olivia. She didn't like to be ignored when she was pissed.

She arched her back a little and pulled his hips towards her by the waistband of his slacks, effectively eliminating any space between them.

He noticed, though it wasn't exactly the kind of attention she was expecting.

And that's how Olivia found herself between a rock and a hard place.


Okay, please forgive the out-of-characterness. It's all my sister's fault. She just had to ask me a question! Anyway, R&R. Lemme know if it belongs in the recycling bin.