Chapter Text
“I thought Olivia would have been here.” Kathleen says to him after all is said and done, after the awkward part is over and his new medal, his combat cross is safely tucked inside it’s box.
He has his back to his daughter when sucks air through his teeth, hiding the accompanying wince at her innocent comment but Kathleen is nothing if not observant, and she’s got her head tilted to the side, a quiet look on her face that demands an explanation, implores it of him and somehow, somehow she looks uncannily like Olivia in that moment; no mean feat when they don’t share DNA. Neither does Noah, he reminds himself. Who is, from that brief meeting, so uncannily like Olivia you’d never know to look at him. Maybe it’s osmosis or whatever you call it. Katie did spent a fair amount of time with Liv when she was younger.
“Dad?” Kathleen prompts, her eyes widening, hands coming up in a ‘are you actually listening to me?’ gesture. “Could she not make it?” She asks. “You did tell her, didn’t you?”
“‘Course I did,” he dances around the question. “She knows.”
Kathleen nods slowly. “So… why isn’t she here?” She asks.
He swallows, feeling his face redden. “She uh…” He rubs the back of his neck. “She’s still pissed at me,” he says quickly, quietly. “About the whole fake death thing.”
Kathleen frowns. “Why would she be upset with you about that?” She asks. “She knew it was fake, right?” A beat, as her expression turns from confusion to shock to anger. “You did tell her Dad, right?”
“I did!” He defends. “Just uh… not before Ayanna broadcast it on the radio.”
Kathleen puts her hands over her mouth. “You’re an idiot, Dad,” she tells him. She’s not wrong; in fact this is the most right she’s ever been.
“I know,” he replies with a sigh. “I texted her, and then I called her a little while after… but it was too late. She’d heard, and uh… she’s not talking to me.”
Kathleen blinks, before shaking her head. “You’re an idiot, Dad,” she repeats. “Have you even tried to fix it?”
“Of course I have!” He exclaims, his outburst catching the attention of some of the brass, still hanging around. “She won’t answer my calls, and when I tried calling Fin he threatened to hit me.”
Kathleen doesn’t seem surprised at all by that revelation, and frankly he doesn’t blame her; she knows Fin, after all. “So go find her,” she tells him. “You know where she works, go speak to her in person.”
“I just said that Fin threatened to hit me,” he reminds her. “Did you not hear that part?”
“I heard,” she replies. “So duck.”
With that, she turns on her heel, walking back to her siblings who are watching intently as his mom engages herself in a deep conversation with Cragen. He only has a moment to wonder if his surrogate father-figure is headed towards something a bit more, when his phone trills in his pocket, telling him he’s got a text message.
Tugging it free, he slides his finger across the screen. Liv, the notification says, and he eagerly opens the text, hoping beyond all hope that it’s not work related; that it’s her trying to initiate communication after ignoring him for days. An olive branch is what he’d like to see.
It’s better.
A hotel name and room number sit innocently on the screen, with a come now alongside it.
***
“I’m still pissed at you.”
Those are the words he’s greeted with as she opens the door to the hotel room, and he nods slowly, apologetically. “I’m sorry,” he replies, stepping inside the room as she moves to the side, walking down the short hallway past the bathroom and to the main area as she closes the door behind him.
The room is simple; it’s a nice hotel but not ostentatious, and the big bed takes up most of the space. But the view out of the window is nice, and he looks at it for a moment before turning back to her. “I know you’re angry-” He starts.
“Angry?” She cuts him off. “Elliot… I heard it on the radio.” She’s shaking her head, as if the moment is replaying in her mind. Probably is, he berates himself. “I heard that you were down, that you were dead. How do you think that made me feel?”
Not great, he almost says but he catches himself just in time. She’s dressed like she’s come here straight from work, which means she’s likely armed and trying to make light of the situation will, history or not, feelings or not, friendship or not… likely get him shot for real this time. “I texted you,” he tries. “I called.”
“Yeah, you texted me,” she nods, thinning her lips. “Five minutes too late. Fin had to read that text to me,” she tells him. “Because I was too hysterical to see straight, to look at my phone and read it myself. Did you know that?”
No, he hadn’t. He shakes his head mutely.
“I broke down in the middle of my squadroom,” she continues. “I’m pretty sure I’ve traumatised Velasco, and Rollins…” She chokes on a laugh then. “Rollins had warmed up to you, you know that?” She’s shaking her head, a wry smile on her lips. “Now? Now she wants to shoot you. Properly.”
He gulps. “I uh… I guess I should avoid her then.” It’s not what he should say, and judging by the look on Liv’s face, he definitely shouldn’t have said it out loud but… he doesn’t have a damn clue what she wants him to say. “I’m sorry,” he tries again. “I should’ve made Ayanna wait, texted you to tell you not to listen.”
“Yeah,” she nods. “Yeah, you should’ve.” A beat. “I mean… I guess at least my Chief wasn’t there,” she shrugs. “And I was in my squadroom and not at a scene… but you should’ve let me know, Elliot.” She looks to the floor, avoiding his gaze and he realises there are tears in her eyes. “Do you know how that made me feel?” She asks, voice small, emotional. “Thinking that… hearing that you’d died?” She looks up at him then, the tears spilling over.
He tries to imagine the situation reversed, and even the thought of it is unthinkable, unbearable. The pain, the tearing he feels in his heart, despite her standing in front of him, alive and well…
No. He couldn’t bear it, can’t bear it. “I can imagine,” he tells her, swallowing thickly. “I’m so damn sorry, Liv. I shouldn’t have done that, not to you."
“Did you do that to your kids?” Did you let them think that?
“I called Kathleen, told her, my mom and Eli all at once,” he tells her. “After I texted you.” It’s the truth; he’d thought of Olivia first, knew he had to tell her first and while he’d rationalised it to Ayanna as Liv having access to police radios, that she might’ve - had, in fact - heard the transmission, the truth of it was that he hadn’t even thought to tell his kids. The only thought in his mind was to stop Liv from thinking the worst (which he’d done a bang up job of). His kids, his mom… they’d come after.
She nods. “Okay,” she murmurs. “Okay.”
“Why are we in a hotel room?” He asks, sensing that a change of subject is needed. “We could’ve done this at my place, or yours…”
She falters for a moment before answering, biting her lip. “I uh… we needed privacy,” she explains, stumbling over her words a little in a way that’s so unlike her it gives him pause.
“Privacy?” He tilts his head, eyeing her.
“Noah’s home,” she tells him. “And I didn’t know if your place was empty or not.”
“It is,” he tells her. “Mom and Eli are staying with Kathleen until I get my place fixed up.”
“Oh,” she mouths the word, shifting from foot to foot and… is she nervous? He wonders.
“Was there uh… was there something else?” He presses. “‘Cause I gotta be honest with you Liv, we could’ve had this conversation in a car. You didn’t have to go all out and pay for a hotel room, unless…”
“Unless what?” She eyes him, as if she’s waiting for him to say it.
Two can play at that game. “Unless you’ve got more to say.” He leaves it there, a tension hanging in the air between them. It’s a familiar feeling; something that he used to feel often back when they were partners, something that he felt a little over a week ago, when they’d worked that case together but now…
Now it feels like more.
Now it feels like… a possibility.
They eye each other for a long moment before Liv, inexplicably, starts to laugh. “What would you say if I told you my therapist recommended this?” She bites her lip nervously.
He blinks. “I’d ask who your therapist is,” he answers. “And what exactly they recommended.”
She snorts. “He uh… he told me to either explore what this,” she waves her hand between them. “Is… or move on.” She pauses, sucks in a breath. “And then uh… Rollins told me that we should just get a hotel room and uh…” She eyes the bed, shy all of a sudden.
“Fuck it out?” Elliot raises his eyebrows, watching as Liv’s face reddens. “That what she said?”
“Not in so many words, but yeah,” she replies, blushing furiously. “I mean, this was before she wanted to shoot you, but I gotta be honest… ever since she said it, apart from those five terrifying minutes…” She trails off, the blush deepening. “It’s all I’ve been able to think about.” The last part comes out in a rush.
Her admission sends a rush of blood to his dick, and it takes a moment for his brain to adjust. “You uh…” He drawls. “You’ve been thinking about this, huh?” His voice drops an octave, and he sees her shiver in response. “Thinking about me… and you…” He steps closer to her, only inches between them now. “In that big bed over there, huh?”
She swallows, licks her lips and nods, seemingly unable to form words. “Yeah,” she breathes out. “You and me… in that uh…” She sucks in a breath. “That big bed over there.”
He reaches out, tugs her in by her waist, their bodies touching from chest to knee. “So are we gonna fuck it out?” He asks, his hands trailing down to cup her ass, giving it a squeeze. She moans, her eyes fluttering shut. “Or are you gonna let me make love to you?” Their mouths are so close, their lips almost touching but not quite.
“I don’t care,” she whispers, her breath ghosting over his lips, her eyes opening, pupils blown wide with desire. “Just take me to bed, Detective.”
He grins, tightening his grip and hoisting her into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist. “Yes ma’am,” he replies, covering her mouth with his own.