Thought process that inspired this fic? "I've got period pain, I'm fed up, I need looking after, where is Elliot Stabler when I need him… oooh… one shot idea… excellent!"
Complete fluff but it's made me feel better so I make NO excuses for it.
For FTVW whose friendship I basically abuse so I can steal her Americanisms!
*** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU ***
"Not In The Job Description"
The bomb went off a little after 4am. No one was expecting it, it came without warning, but when it did, it was with one hell of an explosion.
"Do you have to keep fucking doing that?"
Fin, Munch and Elliot all looked over at Olivia who had got to her feet and was glaring around the room angrily. None of them were sure who her anger was aimed at but they were all hoping like hell it wasn't them. Unluckily for them, it wasn't to be.
"You," she rounded on Fin, "need to turn your IPOD down, that noise is driving me insane. And you," Munch next, "stop tapping your foot on the floor. And you," her gaze landed on Elliot, and the venom in her voice seemed to notch up a few levels, "get your paperwork off of my desk. Since when are you such a slob Elliot? I can't take much more. 36 hours without a break is unbearable at the best of times and you three aren't making it any fucking easier."
"Detective?" Her rant was interrupted by Cragen, who had overheard and come out of his office to join them, "Is there a problem?"
Elliot watched curiously as his partner opened her mouth to answer their boss then closed it again abruptly as her bottom lip started to wobble dangerously. He waited to see if she'd gain control of herself and if another outburst would follow but what actually happened was that she turned on heel and walked out of the room, leaving an echo of sobs in her wake.
"Woah." Fin murmured, "What the hell was that?"
Elliot, having had the smallest inkling of what the problem might be, groped around on his desk for his calendar but it had disappeared under the sea of paperwork that Olivia had taken such offence to. "Any one know what the date is today?" he asked.
Munch grinned, "Why? You wanna know if it's a full moon? Is Benson a werewolf now?"
Elliot grinned back, getting to his feet, "Oh no Munch, its worse than that. Far worse."
After a brief pause to take a couple of items from his desk drawer, he left the room, ignoring their curious expressions and headed for the vending machines in the precinct lobby. He reached into his pocket for some change and fed it into the slot before pushing the appropriate button, twice, and watching as two milk chocolate Crunch Bars fell down and landed the base of the machine.
He retrieved them and then after one final stop in the locker room where he grabbed one of his hoodies and a pair of sweatpants, he made his way to the crib room.
She was sat on the furthest crib from the door, doubled up, her head resting on her knees and her shoulder shaking as she sobbed. Without a word, he moved to sit beside her, rubbing the base of her back gently until her sobbing subsided.
"Is it bad tonight?" he asked gently. She looked up at him, her eyes red, puffy and still wet with tears and nodded. He smiled at her, "Never would have guessed Benson."
He reached for the pile of objects that he'd brought with him, selecting one of the two chocolate bars and holding it out for her. She smiled too then, taking it from him and tearing the wrapper open before asking,
"Did you bring two?"
He handed her the second one, "The mood you're in, would I have dared not?"
In between bites - or rather huge mouthfuls - of chocolate she managed to be apologetic, but he brushed her apologies away.
"Forget it. Anyway you were right. Munch's tapping was annoying as hell."
She laughed slightly at his comment, and when her chocolate was gone she leaned over craning her neck, trying to see what else he'd brought, "Is there anything else in that care package of yours?"
He handed her two Midol, and a bottle of water, "For the pain madam." He watched as she swallowed the pills nearly as quickly as she had the chocolate and felt his smile fade, "Its really bad isn't it?"
She nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek as she displayed none of her usual tough girl exterior, "Like Satan himself is kicking me in the spine."
He knew there was no point in suggesting she should go home, not while they were working a case like the one they were. She'd never have gone, not even if he'd attempted to restrain her and drive her there himself. Instead he just reached for his clothes and handed them to her. "Have a nice warm shower and put these on. You'll be more comfortable."
She took them and smiled before peering over his lap again, clearly looking for something. He knew what, but since her mood had improved saw no harm in teasing her, "You looking for something?"
She pouted playfully and he knew he'd gauged it right, "Where's Mr Bear?" she asked, still pouting.
"I'll put him in the microwave in the squad room. He'll be ready when you're done."
She smiled, getting to her feet with his clothes in her arms, "But you won't let the guys see right?"
"Right." He confirmed, amused by her coyness. He'd always loved that fact that Mr Bear, a pink microwaveable teddy with a lavender scent, did such a good job at soothing his partner's stomach cramps and yet was banished away to the secret place under his sweatshirt because she was too embarrassed to let Fin and Munch know she had him. Poor little guy. Although, on reflection, he had got closer to Olivia's naked flesh than Elliot ever had or would so maybe he didn't deserve that much sympathy after all. "I'll leave him under all that paperwork you were grouching about." He told her.
She leant down, wincing as she did so, and kissed his cheek, "Thanks." She got as far as the door and then she paused, "Will there be coffee on my desk too?"
He sighed, playing up his long suffering partner role, "I guess so."
"Seriously Elliot" she smiled at him gratefully, "Thank you, I know this isn't in your job description."
"You're my partner, you're PMSing, it's the least I can do." he replied genially, just glad she seemed brighter.
"And you do it so well."
Elliot laughed, "Well lets face it Liv. 12 years," he did some hasty math, "144 periods, I ought to have it all worked out by now, shouldn't I?"