A/N: This is a joint project, with x8xKrazee. Benson. Fanx8x. (The authorship changes at the lines, I've written the beginning, where she's taken the end. We will do this for the rest of the story, if ya'll want more!) AU- Kathy and Elliot are divorced, here.
DISCLAIMER: Neither of us owns SVU. Dick Wolf owns it, and the characters. This story belongs to TStabler© and x8xKrazee. Benson. Fanx8x©
"So, how does it feel to finally be a married woman, Olivia?" Munch asked, smirking.
Olivia sighed. "Shut up, Munch. This isn't funny."
"That is a lovely dress, though," Fin said, eyeing her up and down. "Shame to be wasting it on Stabler."
"Hey!" Elliot gruffed. "She's not wasting it! I happen to be one hell of a husband!"
Olivia snickered. "Yeah, let me go ask Kathy about that one," she quipped.
"She wasn't much of a wife," Elliot said, scoffing. "I'm pretty sure I got it right this time," he joked, winking at Olivia.
O'Halloran, holding the camera, shook his head. "Guys, seriously, can I take the fucking pictures now?"
"Sorry," Munch said, defensively. "Didn't know you had a time limit. The camera gonna turn into a pumpkin?"
"Yes, actually," O'Halloran said, snidely. "Benson and Stabler have to be upstate in the house by midnight, and if they are gonna be a married couple, they need their wedding pictures framed and hung in the house before then, right?"
"Good point," Olivia said. "Okay, El. Hold me like you love me," she said, turning to face him.
"Shouldn't be too hard," he whispered to her, pulling her into his arms.
Olivia's eyes widened. "Shut up," she said, through clenched teeth.
"Uh, Detectives, could you look more in love and less in pain?" O'Halloran asked.
Olivia chuckled. She shook her head, allowing herself to really look at Elliot. In his tux, looking back at her with his blue eyes sparkling, staring at her in her white dress, this almost felt like a real wedding picture. The next few weeks would be hard, and easy, all at once, as they posed as a newlywed couple in the valley in order to catch the Suburban Rapist, as he was referred to in the papers. The local units couldn't catch him, so they sent for the best, and the best were ready and willing to bring the bastard down. They just weren't exactly prepared to go undercover. Olivia wasn't prepared to be the bait, and Elliot wasn't prepared to let her be the bait. The only thing, it seemed, they were prepared to do, was spend time alone together away from anyone who'd object to their "unpartnerly" feelings toward each other. In fact, this assignment would encourage them to do all the things they'd been forbidden to do, and they fully intended to take advantage of that newfound freedom. They just hadn't told each other that yet.
After O'Halloran had taken the photos in front of the church, everyone went their separate ways, Olivia and Elliot packed a few last minute things and changed, and were given their new lives and a new car. They left, heading up to the Catskills to become Mister and Misses Ross Parker.
"I hated that car ride," Olivia moaned, getting out of the Lexus, catching her breath, thankful to be on solid ground. "Who taught you how to drive? Mario Andretti?"
Elliot chuckled. "You've never complained about my driving before!" he yelled, laughing.
"Driving like a bat outta hell is fine when we're chasing a perp, El," Olivia whispered. "And speeding in the city is natural. On these winding, mountain roads? God, my stomach is doing more flips than Shawn Johnson!"
"Aw, baby," Elliot said, getting into character, "I'm sorry." He wrapped an arm around her and led her up the stairs to their new "home" and sighed. "Well, Rachel, this is it. Anything you wanna say to me before we do this?"
Olivia grinned. She thought about a thousand snarky things she could say to him, several things that would shock him, but she settled on, "No, Ross. Carry me over the threshold, you sexy hunk of husband you!"
Elliot snickered as he unlocked the door, opened it, and scooped Olivia into his arms. "Ross and Rachel? Cragen's officially lost it," he quipped carrying her into the house. He kicked the door closed behind him and, though Olivia expected him to drop her as soon as they were inside, he took her into the bedroom, laying her on the bed. He peered into her eyes, and blinked. He wanted, so desperately, to kiss her.
Olivia looked up at him, quizzically, raising an eyebrow. "Just how far do you think we're going with this, Ross?" she asked.
"Uh," Elliot paused, thinking. He really didn't know. It just felt natural to carry her into the bedroom. "Windows," he said. "Anyone looking in would expect me to carry you in here."
"That would have been a good answer," Olivia said, smirking, "If anyone looking had x-ray vision. There aren't any windows that face the street in the bedroom."
Elliot sighed and shrugged. "I didn't memorize the floor plan, Liv!" he said, throwing his hands up. "We need to go food shopping in the morning, and then we have a community meeting at four."
"We don't have to wake up at five," Olivia said, her eyes dreamy and sounding as if God himself had just visited her.
Elliot laughed. "No, baby," he said, the term of endearment rolling off of his tongue easily. "We have to wake up at eight. I'm now a lawyer, and you're in advertising. Standard nine-to-five shit. For the next six weeks, at least, we lead normal lives."
"Normal," Olivia said, "Except we're really chasing after some psycho who's raping suburban housewives. Oh, and we're married. In public," she raised an eyebrow and began singing, "You have to kiss me, you have to love me, you have to me smooch me..."
"All right, Miss Congeniality," Elliot laughed. "Shut up and get in bed."
Olivia chuckled. "Lucky we wore our jammies on the ride up, huh?"
"Yeah, you get to wait a whole day before seeing me naked," Elliot joked. Kind of. He pulled down the sheets and slid under the covers, instinctively wrapping himself around Olivia, loving the way she felt in his hold. "Goodnight, Rachel."
Olivia sighed, content in his embrace, snuggling closer absently. "Goodnight, Ross." She opened her eyes, remaining still, feeling for a moment. "Did you bring your gun to bed?"
Elliot's eyes shot open. Damn her and her effect on him. "Uh, yeah," he said, lying. "Go to sleep, baby."
Olivia smirked, closing her eyes again and rubbing against him, purposely making him harder. She knew damn well his gun was on the side table with hers, where the crew had left it for them. She had a goal. And she only had the time spent on this case to reach it.
Olivia woke to the sound of the alarm but was surprised to find herself in bed alone. "El…Ross?" she called into the barely lit room before hearing a grunt in the bathroom. "Ross?" she asked again, rolling her eyes and getting up out of the nice warm bed. She tip-toed to the bathroom, the door was open just a bit and a little light from the bathroom was seeping through the gap. "Elliot? You okay in there?" she asked, pushing the door open. What she caught sight of though kind of shocked her but also turned her on. She could feel herself getting wet.
Elliot was in the shower. Stroking himself vigorously. And moaning her name. Not Rachel, but Olivia. Liv. Her name. Over and over again. She couldn't believe it. The masturbating didn't surprise her, he was, after all, male. The fact that he was moaning her name did though. She smirked, realizing that his fantasies were akin to hers, and this might be easier than she thought. When she heard him grunt and watched him finish, she gasped, bit her lip, and slowly backed out of the bathroom and headed downstairs to the kitchen, so he'd never know that she'd been watching him.
Olivia looked around the kitchen, there was enough food in the kitchen to make breakfast but that was all. She decided on making oatmeal with chopped up strawberries and bananas, just hoping it would work out and Elliot would like it. She cringed as she turned on the stove and remembered the last time she attempted to make oatmeal for herself. It had been a complete and utter disaster. She had to throw out her pot because she'd ruined it so badly.
When Elliot walked downstairs, showered and fully dressed for the day, he sniffed the air and wrinkled up his nose in disgust. "What the hell is that smell?" He walked into the kitchen to see Olivia scrubbing a pot. "What the hell did you burn, Li...Rachel?"
"Nothing," she grumbled and walked past him to go have a shower but stopped when she heard Elliot walk over to the kitchen sink and start to crack up in a fit of laughter. "You burnt oatmeal. Oh my God! Baby, oatmeal? Dickie can make oatmeal!"
"Please, stop," she told him, through clenched teeth. She didn't have the heart to turn around to see the look on his face as he totally humiliated her, even though it was just the two of them in the house.
"I can't believe you really can't cook," he continued to laugh hysterically. "I thought you were just being modest, or joking. Who burns oatmeal?"
"Well unlike you, I didn't have someone to teach me or someone to look up to, and I never had a family to…I never had a reason to learn, okay?" she replied. She headed upstairs to have a shower. Otherwise, she would most certainly punch him.
Elliot sighed and put the pot back into the sink before taking a look around the kitchen to see if there was something else he could cook for the both of them.
"Hmm...pancakes," he said, noticing there were the right ingredients in the kitchen to make pancakes.
Elliot had just managed to serve up the last pancake and put it on a plate for Olivia with different spreads by the plate for her to decide which she wanted, as she walked in showered and dressed for the day. He couldn't help but stare and drool as Olivia had picked a tight, cleavage showing, white v-neck.
"Earth to Elliot. Hello?" Olivia laughed as she waved a hand in front of his face.
Elliot jumped back into reality and cleared his throat. "Sorry? What did you say?"
"Before or after I noticed you staring at my boobs?" she asked, her arms folded on her chest, and a smirk on her face. She knew what he'd be doing with that mental image later.
"Sorry," he mumbled.
"I asked which plate was mine," she repeated, gesturing to the two plates of pancakes on the round wooden table.
"Oh, um, that one there," he replied pointing to the plate on the left.
Olivia nodded and sat down to eat. "Thanks. I'm a really bad cook, El," she confessed in a near whisper, that Elliot barely heard.
"How on Earth have you survived this long then?" Elliot asked, furrowing his brow.
"It's called delivery," she said with a roll of her eyes.
Elliot was floored. "You live on take-out?!"
Olivia shrugged. "I'm not home much. Have you not realized the job we work? And the weird-ass hours we have?" she defended herself.
"I can, uh, domesticate you," Elliot laughed.
"Oh, like, what, a wild cat? Hardy har," Olivia replied, shaking her head. "You're not funny."
"No, Olivia," he paused. "Shit. Rachel. Gotta remember to call you Rachel. I'm being completely serious. I will teach you to do all those things. Like cooking, cleaning, washing."
"I can wash my own clothes, thank you," she retorted. "I'm not that bad off," she scoffed.
"Okay, okay. But I can help you with what you don't know," he offered again, this time sounding more serious.
Olivia smiled and nodded. "Yeah, that would be great, thanks. Just...if you tell anyone I'd have to kill you," she laughed.
Elliot laughed with her. "Yeah, your secret is safe with me, Misses Parker." He looked at his watch. "Oh shit."
"What?" Olivia asked, moaning lightly as she chewed her pancakes. He really could cook.
Elliot put his plate in the sink. "We're running late."
Olivia took one last bite of her yummy pancake and got up. "We'd better go then," she said and ran out of the house, grabbing her purse from the couch in the living room on the way out.
Today was going to be a long, trying to remember to be people they weren't to the rest of the world, and, Olivia hoped, become people they were going to be to each other.
A/N: Well? How is it so far? It's hard to coordinate two ends of a chap. How'd we manage? Shall we continue?