A/N: "When words fail, it is actions that reveal the truth to the ones that need to see it it."
DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf own SVU and the characters; TStabler© owns the story you're about to read.
The days that followed the stabbing were rough. Olivia was taken out of the field until her arm healed, the woman they sent in to take Fin's place was incompetent and rude, and made everyone miss Fin all the more.
The funeral was solemn, every officer in the city dressed in their formal blues and blacks to honor their fallen brother, and when it became too much for Olivia to handle, she fell into Elliot's arms.
He cried, too, openly and unashamed, because Fin had done what he himself had sworn to do. He gave his life for the job, and for his partner. Elliot looked into Olivia's red eyes that balmy afternoon, and he said, quite firmly, "This wasn't your fault."
She replied with a voice just as firm. "I know." But she felt that it was, that she should have gotten up and helped, shot, kicked, something. It happened, and no one could change it, and nothing anyone said or did would make it better.
Ken, Fin's son, felt more guilty than anyone, since he hadn't spoken to his father in months. Now, there was so much between them that would be left unsaid. What could be said, anyway, that would undo years of damage?
Getting back into the swing of things, the routine of the life they'd grown used to, was hard for Olivia and Elliot. Fin was their go-between, when they were bickering. Their neutral party. Their Switzerland. With him gone, they had to deal with their fights and issues on their own, and they realized just how often it happened.
It had only been a month, and it seemed like everyone was moving on, picking up and making it through, but Olivia resented working with a woman, a rookie whom she didn't trust. Whom no one trusted.
She was in the process of making a phone call, ignoring her new partner's babbling, when Cragen stepped out of his office for the first time since Fin's death. He stood between Olivia and Elliot, waiting.
"What's up, Cap?" Elliot asked, leaning back in his chair.
Cragen smirked and shook his head, then pointed to Olivia. "I'll wait for her."
The snarky redhead sitting across from Olivia folded her arms. "I'm here. I'm listening."
"This doesn't really involve you," Cragen said, tilting his head.
"I'm Benson's partner, it actually does concern me," she returned with an air of entitlement in her voice.
Cragen ran a hand down his face. "That's...that's what this is about," he said. He watched Olivia hang up the phone, and she got out of her chair.
She looked across her desk, no trace of a smile on her face as she looked at the woman sitting there, and she said, "We have to go down to Warner, she..."
"Mason," Cragen interrupted. "Go down to the lab with Munch."
Olivia looked at him, as if just realizing he was there. "Excuse me?" she scoffed. "This is my case, Cap, I think..."
"You need to get down to Thirty-Seventh Street," the captain broke in again. "Fourteen year old. Take your partner."
Olivia furrowed her brow. "You just sent my partner down to see Warner with..."
"She's not your partner anymore," Cragen said. He shot her a wink, then jutted his thumb toward Elliot.
She looked at him, his eyes as wide as hers, and in a moment that was purely unprofessional, Elliot rose out of his heat and threw his arms around her. She held him just as tightly, and exhaled slowly. "Thank God," she whispered.
He kissed her neck, he whispered something in her ear that made her smile, and they both looked at Cragen. "Why?" he asked, holding Olivia's hand.
He shook his head, his eyes falling. "With Fin...gone...I need to know that my field team will always have each other's backs. I need fast, strong, and if you're romantically involved or not, you're the best team I've seen in my entire career, so...I'm giving in. Go. Do your jobs."
At a loss for words, Olivia said the only thing she could say. "Thank you."
With a simple look and a nod from Cragen, they were off, Olivia's arm a bit stiffer than it had been, and Elliot's strut cranked up to its highest level. They were back, and they knew they had to stay focused if they wanted to keep it that way.
"Ya know," Elliot's soft voice stated as he wrapped his arms around her. "You stare at them like you expect them to disappear."
She leaned back into him, but kept her eyes focused on Dickie, sound asleep in his bed. "Part of me thinks they will." She clutched his hands as he pulled her tighter against him, but didn't move from the doorway.
"They're not going anywhere," he whispered, his breathe hot in her hear. He finally pulled her backward, away from his son's bedroom, and said, "And neither am I."
She shivered, her body reacting to the heart radiating off of him. She dropped her head to his chest and felt his lips on her skin as he tugged her toward their own bedroom. "Elliot," she moaned, turning her head to give him more access to her neck.
He chuckled. "Shh," he hushed, easing her down onto the bed. "Kids are sleeping," he said as his hands worked his belt open.
She watched him pull the leather through the loops and toss it to the floor, and that's when her fingers gripped his shirt. She let out a soft growl as she lifted the cotton, and moaned softly when he crawled over her, laying her down, and helped her get it over his head.
He looked down at her, holding her gaze as he shimmied out of his pants. Naked now, he pinned her between his legs, straddling her as he worked her clothes off and away.
Her breath hitched and her back arched when he settled over her and took a nipple into his mouth. Her toes curled and her nails dug into his back when he pushed a thick finger into her. She moaned loudly, leaning her head back, when that finger began to move.
"Shh," he quieted with a soft chuckle.
She lifted her head and looked into his eyes, which were fixed on hers, watching every flicker of emotion she gave off, and she knew he was right. This was not a time for words, nothing could be said now that hadn't been said already, and nothing could be talked about that would make the moment more special that it was.
She kissed him and scraped her nails up his back and over his shoulders, telling him, in a way, that she needed him. She needed more.
He thrust another finger into her and caught her moan in his mouth, his tongue lapping it up and swallowing it. After a few moments, though, he moved his hand and settled over her, inching himself into her slowly. He said nothing as he kept his eyes focused on hers still, his lip gnashed between his teeth.
Her hips rose to meet his slow thrusts, her hands slid off of his body to find his on either side of her body. They squeezed their palms together for a moment before Elliot gathered her wrists in one hand and lifted them over her head. He bent his head to kiss her, then dropped it further to suck her nipple into his mouth again. This time, he didn't quiet her moans. He knew that she would remember to stay quiet. He heard the soft, cooing murmurs from her, and he smiled.
She felt the burn rise, coursing through her like a fast-acting poison. Her breathing sped up with her heartbeat, her bosy tightened and stiffened, and she knew she was so close to falling, so fast and unexpectedly.
He kept moving, pistoning in and out, gaining just a bit of speed and power. He let go of her nipple, looked up at her, and almost lost it. The look on her face told him everything he needed to know, and as much as he wanted to tell her he loved her, he didn't have the breath. He felt his body stiffen, felt her clenching and pulsing around him, and he dropped his head into the crook of her neck, nipping and sucking at her rapid pulse.
She shook tremendously as her body went rigid, and he grunted as quietly as he could, thrusting three more times before stilling and shaking himself. Overcome with emotion and exhaustion, he crashed his lips into hers and rolled her over, staying within her as they found the middle of the bed.
They'd spent almost a year dancing around words, trying to find something to say that would truly convey how much they felt, how much they loved one another. When it came down to it, they found that words were unnecessary. Every night, before they cuddled up in bed to sleep, they proved that actions truly did speak louder than words.
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