"For Christ sakes, just admit it." Olivia releases a heavy sigh, blowing her messy, long bangs away from her face.
"Detective Stabler and I already know you're as guilty as sin so you might as well cop to it."
Olivia shrugs and stares her suspect down, awaiting his response.
Who the fuck does this bitch think she is?
"Well if you're so sure, confident and all…" He says, gazing into her exhausted, brown eyes. "Why waste your time? Lock me up, Olivia."
He presents his wrists to her and shrugs back, mocking her. She couldn't stand it when suspects called her by her first name, especially violent predators like Grant Meyers.
They had been looking at Grant for months for the rapes and murders of 10 women. She referred to herself as Detective Benson when speaking to him, but like every good creep, he did some research. Her name coming from his mouth made her stomach turn.
The room is quiet. Olivia stares at his wrists while contemplating her next move. Elliot remains standing in a dark corner, arms crossed and furious with the fact that he gets to spend yet another one of his nights trapped in an interrogation room with the scum of the earth.
Oh joy, I'm so lucky, he sarcastically thinks to himself.
He looks over to his partner. Most of her hair was up in a sloppy bun and she was practically slumping in her chair, clearly exhausted.
She's perfect, Elliot thought despite her exhausted state.
"Listen Grant -" Olivia starts to speak, but she's immediately cut off by him.
"This isn't important." Grant shakes his head and cracks a smile.
Olivia stares into his eyes, confused. "Wha -" She's interrupted again. "What's important is how often you two break NYPD code."
Olivia continues to stare at him, now even more confused than before. She glances over at Elliot to see the same confusion spread across his face.
Her eyes return to Grant. "Fucking," he simply says.
"C'mon… don't tell me that you two haven't fucked."
Olivia lets out a small nervous laugh, her shaky hand tucking strands of hair behind her ear. She attempts to gain control back quickly.
"Very nice, Mr. Meyers. That's good, avoid the subject. You can ask me whatever you please, however, you and I both know the truth, don't we?"
Grant looks over at Elliot and stares back at Olivia.
"Which is what?" He shrugs again, frowning.
"That you fuck every night? Jesus, you two are something else!" His voice was deep, yet raspy.
"No," Olivia says, her voice full of authority. "That you raped and killed all those women."
Olivia swallows hard, hoping that he would drop the subject of Elliot and her having sex or as he so politely put it, 'fucking.' Grant continues, ignoring Olivia's last statement completely.
"I don't blame you, Detective," he states, looking back over at Elliot. "She's a nice piece of ass."
"Hey, pal!" Elliot shouts from the other side of the room.
He walks over to the interrogation table and leans over it, so close to Grant that their noses were practically touching.
"Enough with the bullshit. Start cooperating or expect to become somebody's bitch in lock-up."
Grant holds his wrists out to Olivia once more, grinning. Elliot and Olivia's eyes meet, and they immediately read each other.
Neither of them uttered a word, but they both agreed with their eyes, This guy isn't gonna tell us shit.
Elliot pushes away from the table and starts to head out the door, and Olivia begins to follow him. Before she completely removes herself from her seat, Grant quickly grabs her wrist, holding it in an iron grip.
Olivia stares into his cold eyes, and her skin begins to tingle from his touch. She swears that her chills are so intense that even he could feel them.
"I'm sorry you haven't found your guy yet." He gives her sad, puppy dog eyes which could be mistaken as genuine sympathy had she not known him to be the murderer and rapist of 10 women that he was.
Olivia snatches her arm back, but can't seem to break eye contact from him. There was something about his eyes that locked her in. Cragen bangs his fist on the two-way mirror, snapping her out of his spell. Olivia makes her exit, but Grant's eyes remain fixed on her until she shuts the door.
"Release him. We've got nothin' on him," Cragen says.
Elliot and Olivia don't even bother to object or argue with their captain. Although both were annoyed, they heard that line often and both were used to this routine.
Location: Outside Olivia's Apartment
Elliot pulls in front of Olivia's apartment, Olivia riding passenger.
"Want me to walk you up?" he asks, placing his hand on her inner thigh.
Olivia rolls her eyes. This was getting old, quick. She knew now that 'Want me to walk you up?' translated into 'Do you want to fuck?'
She was not in the mood tonight. She guesses that it was because the sick son of a bitch who they just finished interrogating read them, easily enough that he could picture them fucking. Grant Meyers thinking about her doing anything, especially having sex, disgusted her. She was also becoming frustrated with their "relationship" or whatever it was considered.
Was she just an object to Elliot or was there more to this relationship? She couldn't tell.
She unintentionally thinks out loud.
"What the fuck are we?" she whispers to herself, but loud enough for Elliot to hear her.
"What do you mean?" Elliot asks in a soft tone, surprising her.
She really didn't plan on discussing this tonight, but she decides to continue anyway.
"We work, you drive me home, we fuck," she lists out.
"So what the fuck are we?" she repeats. "What does that make us?"
Elliot looks left and right, searching for a response, but thrown off by her question. Not even he knew the answer to this question. He cared for her and loved her. He didn't doubt either one of those facts, however, he could not put a title on their relationship.
Still married to Kathy, he couldn't possibly consider her a girlfriend, a lover. Could he? His marriage was rocky at best. The car becomes quiet for nearly a minute as Elliot thinks of the right words to say. Olivia stares him down, impatiently awaiting his response.
Pissed and fed up with whatever bullshit answer he was trying to come up with, Olivia grabs her jacket and quickly exits the vehicle, Elliot rushing after her.
She hears his footsteps behind her.
"Forget it, Elliot. We'll talk some other time."
"No, let's talk now," he persists, hearing the pain in her voice.
It broke his heart that he had hurt her. He curses under his breath, still trying to find the right words to fix this mess as he continues to chase after her. Olivia ignores him, and they arrive at the door to her apartment.
She fumbles with her keys, trying to find the right one, but her thoughts were jumbled due to the anger and the hurt that she was feeling. She finally finds it and sticks the key into the keyhole, unlocking the door.
She attempts to close the door in Elliot's face, but he easily stops it using one hand.
"Let's talk now," he repeats, nodding.
Frustrated, Olivia immediately gives up her weak attempt to force him out of her apartment, and walks into the kitchen, near the refrigerator. She opens the refrigerator, sighing as she reaches for a beer, the only item she really kept in her empty fridge.
"Hell, Liv! Don't start something that you're not willing to finish," Elliot says, still waiting by the door.
She pauses, her head still buried in the refrigerator as if she had many options to choose from. She stands straight, staring at him.
"Elliot just go," she begs him in an annoyed tone.
She closes the refrigerator door, leaving the beer and walks back over to the door, fully expecting him to leave. To her complete surprise, Elliot crashes his lips onto hers. Olivia widens her eyes, and pushes her hands into his chest. She breaks contact, gasping for air. She doesn't know why she felt so low on oxygen, but she needed to break that contact and fast.
"-the fuck!" she yells. "Elliot! El, don't you get it!" She pushes him again, more forceful than before.
"What are y -" He stops her mid-sentence.
"We love each other, you know it," he says, gazing into her eyes.
"You know it," he says again, extending his hand out and caressing her cheek.
His touch sends shivers down her spine, but she pretends to be unaffected by it. "Oh, do I?" she yells. Elliot nods, bringing his hand down to her shoulder, gently rubbing it.
"Leave," she says, reaching for the doorknob.
Elliot grabs the wrist belonging to the hand that was reaching for the knob, and then grabs her other wrist, lifting both hands above her head, and pinning her to the wall.
"Y- You heard me," she says under her breath, failing at pretending to be unfazed by his hard on pressing into her front.
She lets out a heavy breath and a whimper, which could be mistaken as pain if Elliot didn't know her so well. She's stubborn, refusing to drop the act.
"Get the fuck off me," she says staring into his blue, hungry eyes.
Elliot can't resist her anymore, lifting her up as he starts to head toward her bedroom.
"Put me down," she weakly demands with no actual attempt to struggle and escape from his muscular arms. She wraps her legs around his waist, clasping her feet together and putting her arms around his neck.
Olivia crashes onto her back onto the bed, Elliot landing on top of her. She lets out a yelp as she feels his erection press hard into her, through her slacks. Elliot quickly becomes impatient. He can't take it anymore. With her moans and yelps alone, he was already near a climax. He needed to be inside her right now.
He sits up, kneeling as he works at her button and zipper on her slacks. He succeeds and yanks them down her thighs, tossing them across the room. She lays there in a crimson red, button up blouse.
He considers undressing the upper half of her body, but decides that there is too little time. He pulls his fitted sweater over his head, and examines her body. He could feel his dick fighting beneath his briefs like a wild, caged animal.
He quickly drops his pants, and leans down over her, gripping his hard, pulsating dick with his hand. He rubs the head of his dick over her entrance.
Jesus, she's so wet, he thinks.
Despite his urgency to be inside her, he decides to tease her first.
"You know what, Liv…you were right… I should go." He begins to slowly climb off the bed, but not before pushing his dick about an inch into her, then pulling it back out to torture her.
She quickly puts an end to his teasing, grabbing his muscular buttocks with both hands, pulling him toward her entrance. His dick enters her quickly, and Elliot yells out shocked by her strength and the unexpected contact.
"Oh fuck!" he pants, as she swallows him in.
He fills her completely and pulls out before driving into her again. Olivia throws her head back, moaning as his snake massages in and out of her.
He fills her up, but she's greedy, wanting more of him. Again she wraps her legs around his waist, her heels digging into his bare ass. She digs her nails into his strong back, leaving red marks as he continued to pump into her.
"Shit." She lets out another heavy breath.
"Fuck yeah," she whispers, her entire body jolting.
Both coming near a climax, Elliot begins to pump into her harder, placing his hands on her handles as support.
"El…Elliot," she cries out.
That was it. His name coming from her cherry lips was too much of a turn on. Her voice was so fucking sexy. He shoots his juices inside her, his pace slowing, but his movement just as strong.
He pounds into her, their skin contact sounding like a pair of hands performing a slow clap. He pushes into her one final time, and then collapses on top of her, completely winded.
"Fuck, Liv," he whispers into her ear, his breath warm as a late July afternoon.
Olivia continues to pant, as Elliot pulls out and rolls off of her, his dick slowly deflating. She closes her eyes, and almost immediately lets sleep take her. Elliot stares at the ceiling, then turns to see her sleeping, her breathing calm and relaxed.
He quietly removes himself from the bed and gathers his clothes that were scattered around the room. He exits, wanting to avoid any next morning awkwardness, but not before placing a gentle kiss on her lips.
"I love you," he whispers and heads out.
The sun blazes down onto her bed, awakening her. She squints as she reads the clock sitting on the stand beside her bed. 7:02. She shifts her legs a little, feeling the moisture in between her thighs. She flashes back to the previous hours.
"Fuck," she says, throwing her head back into her fluffed pillow.
She climbs out of the bed, only needing to strip from her blouse and bra. Elliot took care of the rest for her last night.
Gee, thanks El, she thinks to herself as she sees her pants and panties on the floor.
She heads into the bathroom, and turns the shower knob clockwise, warming the water up. As she waits, she looks into the mirror. Her mascara was smeared and smudges of her lipstick covered her cheeks and neck.
She combs her fingers through her hair and lets out a dreadful sigh, disappointed in the events that occurred. She felt dirty. She loved him, and knew he loved her in return. Nonetheless, she felt dirty. Seeing steam ascend from the tub, she hops into the shower letting the hot water pour down onto her skin.
She immediately grabs her shower gel and sponge, and begins scrubbing. She stays in the tub longer than needed. She figured the longer she stood there, the cleaner she would feel. She proved herself wrong as she hopped out of the tub, toweling off, feeling just as dirty if not dirtier than before.
Location: Beans n' More Coffee Shop
"How can I help you, ma'am," the young man behind the counter asks her, looking more joyful than he should be at this early in the morning.
"Yeah, can I get 2 medium coffees, 2 cream, 2 sugar in each," Olivia asks.
She pays and immediately after paying, she hears her name coming from an all too familiar voice.
"Good morning, Olivia." She turns to face him.
Grant Meyers. She freezes for a moment, and then her mind begins racing, searching for some witty remark. Instead she decides to go with what she was already thinking to herself.
"What do you want?" she asks, staring into his dark green eyes. "The same thing you want," he responds in his raspy voice, cocking his head at her and placing his hands in his pockets. Olivia gives him a blank stare, and then raises one eye brow.
"Coffee," he says cheerfully, stepping forward to the counter.
"Small coffee, black," he tells the young man. He turns his head toward Olivia, winking at her. She stands there in disbelief. Although this was only her first encounter with Grant outside of police business, she refused to believe that this was a coincidence.
There were hundreds of coffee joints in the Manhattan area, and out of all the places they could run into each other, it was here at this specific time, not even a full day after she interrogated him.
Olivia transforms into cop mode and conducts her own mini investigation, interrogating him right on the spot.
"I'm here almost every morning. Never seen you here. Kinda odd, no?" she questions him, accepting her coffee as the young man handed it to her in a tray.
"I like to explore, ya know? I thought I'd try a new place," he responds, smiling at her.
The manner in which he spoke was almost charismatic. However, Olivia knew better. They didn't have enough to pin him, but there was no doubt in her mind that this man killed and raped those innocent women.
"Hmm that's interesting," Olivia says, sipping her or Elliot's coffee.
It didn't matter which one she sipped out of. She and Elliot shared drinks much too often for it to matter.
"You don't work in this area. You certainly don't live near here. Coming to this shop isn't a bit of an inconvenience for ya?"
He smiles again.
Damn she's so smart and quick, he thinks.
"Well that's true, it is a bit out of the way I suppose..."
Olivia stares him down waiting for the 'but.'
"…But the women in this area are a lot more attractive. Don't you agree?" he asks, tilting his head to the side.
Olivia looks at him, highly suspicious.
"Hadn't noticed," she answers, shrugging.
"C'mon," he lets out a small laugh. "Surely you know you're gorgeous."
Olivia ends it there, and begins to exit the shop. This guy was a sociopath and she knew it. There was no need to continue this line of questioning because she knew the rest would be either lies or pickup lines.
He quickly cuts in front of her, apologizing.
"Sorry, Olivia. I didn't mean to offend you," he says, showing what appeared to be concern.
"You didn't. Move out of my way," Olivia orders, attempting to bypass him.
"Woah, woah, wait…wait." He stops her again, and pulls a folded piece of paper from his pocket.
"At least accept my number." He takes her hand and puts the paper in her palm.
He closes her fingers around the paper before taking her hand to his lips and gently giving it a quick peck. He exits the shop before she could, disappearing into the business crowd outside.
Olivia rubs her hand roughly onto her jeans, feeling the bile rise up in her throat as she thought about his lips on her. Olivia opens the paper and reads the numbers in front of her. Immediately she recognizes that this was in no way a phone number.
It didn't even have half the digits it was suppose to, only two. "1-1," she reads. What?
She walks out of the coffee shop, confused, repeating the digits '1-1' to herself in her mind. Returning back to cop mode, she begins to think like a detective.
Is this part of an address? A district? Maybe where a body is buried?,she later discovers that she was wrong on all counts. The number makes perfect sense, she just doesn't see it. Olivia could not have predicted what comes next.
Please REVIEW! You're in for a bumpy ride!