Disclaimer: Not even close to mine.
A/N: I haven't stopped working on my other stories -- this one just keeps plugging up my ideas, though -- so I thought I'd get it out into the open. Please tell me what you think. Most likely a ONESHOT.
The elevator doors dinged as they closed behind them. Elliot placed a hand on Liv's elbow, but she yanked her arm away from him.
"Laura," he whispered, emphasizing the name to remind his partner of the fact they were still undercover.
"Jack--," she said, mimicking his tone and staring at him defiantly. "--ass," she added in a lower tone.
Elliot glanced at her sharply. He would have said something, but he decided not to in front of the several other occupants of the elevator car.
He shook his head as he realized Olivia seemed to not care anymore that they were not alone.
She was still glaring at him.
Elliot slipped a hand around the back of her neck. He felt her shirk in response, but he leaned in and whispered in her ear.
"Remember -- happily married?"
"Right," she breathed. "And married people don't have fights? I guess you're the expert on that one -- oh, wait -- you're divorced. Oops."
He removed his hand and crossed his arms.
Olivia glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. She partially regretted the amount of venom in her words.
"Look, dear," she said bitterly as the elevator tone rang out. "It's our floor."
Elliot sighed as he guided her out with a hand on her bare lower back. He waited a few seconds after the doors closed again before he confronted her.
"What the hell is wrong with you?"
She turned around, an indignant look on her face.
"Me? What the hell is wrong with you!"
Elliot pushed past her, pulling the room key from his pocket. He slipped the card in the slot and pushed open the door when the light flashed green. He held open the door, and pointed into the room.
Olivia snorted, but followed his instructions.
As soon as the door shut behind him, Elliot turned to his partner, glaring. He pointed in her face. "You better figure what your problem is, Liv -- before you blow another operation."
Her eyes widened in surprise. "Me? Blow the op? You think I blew it?"
"Yeah -- I think you did."
Liv shook her head. "Please, by all means -- enlighten me. Was it because 'I look like a cop' -- because let's face it -- in this getup I definitely look more like a cop than you." Her voice dripped with sarcasm as she gestured to her beaded, black evening gown, diamond earrings, and stiletto heels.
"Looked like a cop? No. Acted like a cop -- uh, yeah."
Her only response was to shoot him a glare as she removed her earrings.
"Liv -- our perps prey on rich couples who are looking for adventure. We don't really stand a chance of attracting their attention when you act so damn stuck up."
Her mouth dropped open. "Looking for adventure? Jesus, Elliot -- these people are swingers!"
"It doesn't make them any less of potential victims."
"You don't think I know that? Believe me, I know that. But I also know that we know jack shit about our perps. We don't know who they are, or for that matter -- if they're actually here! They could be playing around at some other swinger convention for all we know!"
Olivia turned away, pulling off her heels and muttering underneath her breath about how stupid his plan had been.
"And stuck-up?" she shouted, turning around to face him again, pointing at him with one of her shoes. "What the hell gives you the right? Gee, El -- sorry I couldn't have been more enthusiastic for you. Next time I'll let one of them fuck me. It should be real interesting when they come across my gun -- wonder how long it'll take then to make me as a cop."
"No, Elliot. You know, when you said 'undercover,' I didn't know you actually meant 'under the covers.' Maybe you should have been a little more specific in your instructions."
She turned away again, but Elliot reached out and snatched her arm, pulling her back towards him.
Olivia turned and slapped him across the face.
His face stinging, he grabbed her by the arms.
"You bitch," he hissed as lifted her up and pinned her against the wall. She tried to kick him, but he used his knees to press her legs firm against the wall.
Liv struggled to get free. "Elliot! Elliot, you son-of-a-bitch -- put me down. Let go of me!"
Her cries became more desperate. "Elliot, please."
Elliot was not listening anymore. He was distracted by the stiffening he felt below his belt.
Olivia had become silent. The two stared at each other, each of them breathing hard.
Suddenly Elliot attacked her mouth with an angry kiss. He felt her initial reaction of panic and resistance melt away as her tongue met his. He straightened his knees, releasing the pressure against her legs, which she then wrapped around his waist.
He removed his hands from her arms, and placed them instead on her bare legs.
Elliot kissed her harder and harder as his hands traveled up her thigh, sliding under her skirt where they rested briefly on her hip. Elliot blindly undid the Velcro strap that kept her hip holster in place.
There was a large clunk as the gun dropped to the floor.
Olivia leaned back against the wall as his fingertips pressed into her hip bone. One hand slipped beneath the strap of her panties, and she moaned as he shoved two fingers inside of her. He felt her muscles clench tight around him as he thrust them deeper into her.
Elliot's mouth moved down her neck and onto her chest. Her low-cut dress allowed him a preview of her cleavage, but denied him any further access.
Frustrated, he removed his fingers, ignoring her groan of protest. He wanted her now -- but he wanted to control her whole body.
He grasped her around the waist and pulled away from the wall. He turned a few steps and threw her onto the bed.
Her body bounced violently, but before she could react in any way, he was on top of her -- his knees on either side of her hips. She attempted to wrap her arms around his neck, but he grabbed her wrists and held her arms above her head as he leaned over to kiss her.
Her mouth no longer refused him.
Pulling away from her lips and sitting back on his haunches, Elliot removed his tuxedo jacket, his tie, and finally his shirt.
Olivia ran her hands across his muscular chest, but he knocked them away. It was his turn -- she could have hers later.
She seemed to get the message as her arms returned to the bed. Her hands pulled at the comforter as Elliot hooked his hands under the neck line of her dress and pulled. The fabric tore with a groan and sent beads flying in all direction, but Elliot cared little. He continued ripping until the top gave way and retreated to her waist.
He breathed deep as he ran his hands along her exposed torso. She had been wearing no bra -- the dress apparently had one built-in.
She gasped as he cupped her breasts. His fingers rubbed at her nipples and then were replaced by his mouth. His lips enclosed down around one.
Olivia failed to hold back a scream as his teeth brushed across her nipple. She tried to arch her body to touch his chest, but his knees kept her hips pushed into the mattress.
Elliot smiled as he moved his attention -- and his hands -- lower. She would finally be his.
He pulled his hands away from her stomach and worked to remove his belt. He had just managed to unzip his trousers when he felt himself being hurled through the air. Olivia had used her weight to push down against the bed and throw him off of her.
He hit the ground with a thud. His head barely missed the bed stand, and the vibration sent the lamp flying to the floor.
He looked up in time to watch Olivia straddle him. Her hands clasped his jaw bone, and her mouth covered his in a heavy kiss.
Elliot was surprised by the fiery rage that traveled through her lips.
She tugged on his bottom lip with her teeth. He placed his hands on her hips as her mouth moved down his neck and onto his chest. As she neared his belt line, he felt himself getting even firmer and he used one hand to push her head closer to the spot.
Olivia's fingers easily pushed his slacks and his boxers out of the way. She flashed him a wicked smile before kissing the end of his member.
Elliot groaned as her teeth grazed him as she went down on him. Almost immediately he felt himself release and then relax.
The voice came to him as if in a hazy dream. Elliot opened his eyes and found himself staring into Olivia's fear-filled eyes.
He opened his mouth in surprise and glanced about him. They were both still fully clothed, and her dress was no longer torn. The bed was still perfectly made; the lamp still sat on the table.
He looked back at his partner and became instantly startled. He still held her pinned against the wall -- her feet were still inches from the ground, and her gun still resided on her hip, which was still pressed against the wall by his knees.
"Oh my God," he whispered, stepping back and removing his grasp on her arms.
Olivia let out a muffled cry of pain as she fell to the ground in a heap.
He took another step backwards. "Liv, I'm so sorry -- I--"
"Get out," she muttered darkly under her breath.
Elliot bent over and offered a hand to help her up. "Are you okay?"
Liv slapped his hand away. "Get OUT!" she screamed, pulling the gun from her holster.
"Okay, okay," he said, raising his hands in surrender, "I'm gone." He turned towards the door.
"Fuck you, Elliot Stabler!" she shouted at his back.
The door slammed shut behind him.
Olivia dropped the gun and broke into tears. She buried her face in the carpet.
The raw power -- the anger and the desire -- of Elliot's gaze haunted her. Her skin still burned where he had touched her. Liv could not decide what scared her more -- the way he had looked at her or the fact that she had felt herself grow wet for him as she imagined what could have happened.