(originally posted
here)
Title: Reset
Author: scarletcaesura
Fandom: Law and Order: SVU
Rating: PG
Notes: Flashfic. Takes place between seasons 8 and 9. Mild Olivia/Elliot.
It's going to be fine, Elliot thinks.
Olivia has gone again, but her desk is not cleared off this time, and she'll be back in a couple months. By then he'll be moved in with Kathy again, Kathleen will be spending a few months picking up trash on the highway and hopefully building a little character, and when Olivia returns, things will be back to normal, the same as they always were.
There will be no shrinks this time, no temporary partners, no making out with temporary partners, no feeling of something irretrievable slipping away forever. Last year felt like the curtains being drawn across the stage. This, somehow, is different.
This time, she said goodbye.
A couple months, he thinks. No big deal.
He lasts all of three days.
*
Olivia is cleaning out her closet when her cell phone starts vibrating across her dresser. She hurries over, abandoning a plastic bag full of sweaters she's sorting through, and makes a graceless save just as it starts to tip over the edge.
"Elliot?" she answers, breathless. If something happened to you in the three fucking days since I've been gone, I will fucking shoot you, sweetheart, she thinks. "What is it?"
"Where did you put the file for the Hamilton case?"
"Oh, for God's-I thought I left it on your desk."
"I don't see it."
"Elliot, are you blind? Hang on." Olivia sits down on the edge of the bed, rubbing her temple.
"I still don't see it."
"Wait, no. My desk."
"Your desk." She hears him moving around and can easily picture him in the squadroom, holding the receiver, looking confused.
"Right side," she says.
"Right side-"
"Second drawer, under the autopsy photos."
"And-yep. Got it."
"Okay?"
"Yeah." He pauses, and she hears him sitting down at his desk. "How you holding up?"
Olivia sighs. "I'm-I'm fine, Elliot."
He sounds unconvinced. "Liv."
"Elliot. Really."
"Okay." He backs off, but she keeps going.
"It's not-I wouldn't have done anything differently." She bites the inside of her lip. "And I'm getting some stuff done around the apartment, so it's not like-"
"Liv."
"Oh, fine. I'm bored out of my fucking mind."
He chuckles, and the complete absence of coldness or bitterness in the sound of his voice, in the whole conversation, makes her smile.
"Liv?"
"Yeah. Still here."
"I can't read this."
"What?"
"Your handwriting. It's-seriously, I can't make out a damn word of this sentence."
Olivia sighs. "Well, I was in a little bit of hurry trying to finish before Cragen kicked me out of the squadroom, okay?"
"I think this says 'umbrella'."
"Elliot."
"That can't be right."
"Elliot!"
"What?"
She pauses. "Are you free after work?"
He sounds a little surprised. "Um, sure. You wanna grab a drink or something?"
"Yeah. Meet me at Dave's, okay? Bring the file."
"Okay," he says, and Olivia lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding.
"All right," she says, "And maybe we'll discuss looking into some bifocals for you."
"Shut up. I'll see you later."
"Count on it," she says, and disconnects.