Make the Bodies Drop [SVU; Elliot/Olivia]
TITLE: Make the Bodies Drop
CHAPTER 7
FANDOM: Law & Order: SVU
PAIRING: Elliot/Olivia
SPOILERS: Season seven-ish, pre-trilogy
RATING: R for adult themes
SUMMARY:
*****
"Ouch! Shit!" Pain radiated through her knees as Olivia hit the hardwood floor, and she blew her bangs out of her eyes. Standing up, she wiped the grit from the floor off her palms, wiping them on her gray yoga pants. Then, she straightened her tanktop and gripped the pole again, sighing at her reflection in the mirrored wall. How in the hell did she ever think she could pull this off? She was in way over her head. The wig (which she'd have to put on again in just a matter of hours), the clothes, the persona... and Elliot.
At the mere thought of his name, her lips began to tingle. She'd only kissed him for a few fleeting seconds, but apparently that was all it took to set her on fire. And judging by the look on Elliot's face immediately afterward, it had done something to him, too. She knew they wouldn't be able to do this; it was putting them too close. They were too close to begin with.
She couldn't think about this now. She had training to do. In less than four hours she'd be up on stage, in skimpy clothes, bending and writhing and twisting for a bunch of grimey, sweaty, smoke-scented creeps. And Elliot.
Olivia grabbed the pole and forced her thoughts away from her partner. Her knees still smarted from the fall but she pressed on, turning on her boombox again and closing her eyes, taking a couple deep breaths. Soon the music started up again, her favorite up-tempo Whitney Houston song from when she was going through her 'Bodyguard' phase. Then, she let out her breath, and began to dance.
First, she walked around the pole twice, building up momentum. Her arm was extended high above her head, hanging on to the pole then as she lifted herself into the air, hooked one bent leg around the pole, and swung herself around, landing on her feet again. Sweat still clung to her from earlier but she didn't mind the feeling, losing herself in the music, and the motions.
Throughout the song, Olivia alternated between swinging herself around the pole rapidly, with legs either bent or straight, and slowly winding her body around it, either upside-down or rightside-up. Part of her didn't understand why she'd never thought of doing something like this before to keep in shape. It was a hell of a workout. Her upper body was practically vibrating from the exertion, and she was feeling a definite burning sensation in her quadriceps and hamstrings.
Up, down, around, and back again she twisted herself, bending her body into positions she never once imagined getting herself into. She climbed the pole straight to the top a few times and then held herself up while she carefully, steadily tipped her legs over her head and let them spread apart, winding slowly down the pole, upside-down, to the floor.
So immersed was she in her dance that she didn't notice her partner's arrival. And Elliot, in the doorway of the small exercise room, was content to keep it that way. He stood there, in plain view but unnoticed, and just watched her. She was so graceful, her lithe, toned body bending and twisting around the stainless steel pole as if she was molding into it. The sweat that glistened off her arms, shoulders, and what he could see of her flat abs glinted under the fluorescent lights, the white tanktop enhancing her tan complexion. He noted her wig was off, her shoulder-length caramel-highlighted hair obstructing her vision every time she'd flip herself upside-down.
And he had to smile every time this happened, because every time she would blow a puff of air through those lush lips (the very same ones that had touched his own mere hours ago) to get them out of the way. She really had no idea how gorgeous she was sometimes, and that astounded him. She had no idea that she turned practically every head of every passerby on the street; she had no clue just how many men in their precinct and others revered her as some kind of goddess that could pound their asses into the floor. And she had no idea what she did to him.
Like that kiss. So short, so fleeting, and yet somehow he knew it changed the course of his life forever. He'd never be able to go back to the way he felt about her before their lips touched. Everything was enhanced now. Every nuance about her stood out five times stronger than before.
At least she was affected by the kiss too. Or she seemed to be, from what he could tell. He wasn't completely certain, as his mind had gone just a little hazy after that kiss broke.
"Hey, are you stalking me?" Her voice startled him from his thoughts, and he looked up to meet her eyes, hoping he didn't look too surprised.
Nonchalantly, he shrugged. "Not very well, no."
Olivia smiled and it both shattered his heart and made it soar. The things she did to him...
"So what're you doing here?"
"Hmm?" He tore his eyes away from her collarbone, where the beads of sweat seemed to be particularly shiny. "Oh, uh... just thought you could use some company."
"Oh." She wasn't buying it, that much was obvious in the way she looked him up and down. Like a perp, he realized. "Thanks." Then, she jerked her chin toward the bench over in the corner. "Toss me that towel, wouldja?"
"Sure." He grabbed the small white towel she'd indicated and flung it in her direction, smirking when she chuckled, pulling it from its landing spot over her face.
As she dabbed the sweat off herself and he watched, their eyes alternately flicked to each other's. The moment would've been awkward without eight-years-worth of history. "So what're you really doing here, Elliot?"
"I heard you'd be down here. And... I..."
She raised her eyebrows. "Thought I could use some company?"
It was only upon hearing it from her lips that Elliot realized how lame that sounded. But still, he nodded. "Yeah."
"Uh-huh." Skepticism was heavy in her tone but she didn't dispute him; instead, she dabbed the sweat off her arms and tossed the towel aside, planting her hands on her hips. "So how'd I do?"
"Huh?"
Olivia tilted her head downward, hair falling into her face hiding her smile. Her tongue peeked out and pressed against her upper lip. "The dance," she clarified. "How did I do?"
"Oh! Uh..." Answering could get him into trouble. If he said she did well, it'd be a dead giveaway of just how closely he'd been watching. So, he shrugged. "Okay, I guess. I didn't really see much." He blinked, realizing this is how perps must feel when questioned by the beautiful detective in front of him.
Her brown eyes scrutinized him, narrowed slightly as she contemplated the lie. Then, she nodded and shrugged. "Alright."
This was going well. "So you're headlining tonight, huh?"
"Yeah, unfortunately. Dressed as Little Red Riding Hood."
Elliot made a face. "Why? Some of the patrons got weird fairytale fantasies?"
"I'd guess because of my stage name. I just hope I don't have to carry pies out with me."
He laughed, even though the image of Olivia dressed as a skimpy version of Little Red Riding Hood did things to his pulse that he didn't want to think about. "At least you know you don't have to go topless."
"That's one plus, yes." She touched his arm and brought him back to himself. "Actually, I should thank you for that."
"Really?" He raised his eyebrows. "Figured you would've stuck my balls in a blender for that move."
"No. That kind of protectiveness, I can handle." She smirked, a bit ruefully. "It's the secretive, protective detail stuff you do without telling me that makes me wanna reach for the nearest blender."
"Ah." He smiled and stepped a little closer to him when she tilted her head. That was the patented Olivia Benson invite for flirtation. He didn't mind spending a bit of time flirting with her. "Well what kinda partner would I be if I didn't look out for ya all the time?"
Her brows flicked upward and her bangs fell into her eyes. "The normal kind, I guess."
"You don't get normal with me, baby," he teased with a chuckle, and without thought his fingers moved her bangs out of her eyes. "I'm not just a normal partner, and you're not just a normal partner to me either."
"Really." It wasn't really a question, nor was it a statement.
"Mm-hmm."
"So you're saying you wouldn't have taken this kind of undercover operation with your last partner."
He laughed. "Nah, I'm thinkin' he wouldn't look nearly as good in the outfits as you do. Although the stilettos didn't look too bad on him."
Olivia surprised him with her laugh -- so rarely heard, but absolutely beautiful nonetheless -- as her head tipped back and her hand reached out to swipe playfully at his chest. Elliot wanted to grab that hand and press a kiss to her knuckles. Somehow, he managed to hold back... from kissing her knuckles, anyway. His hand seemed to reach out without his consent and grabbed onto hers, holding it against his chest.
Olivia's laughter slowly faded as she took in the wide grin on her partner's face, and her head tilted of its own accord to the other side. She adored flirting with Elliot Stabler; there was no other feeling like the rush she got from doing it. And they hadn't done this -- just flirted -- in so long it seemed sometimes. It reminded her very much of how they behaved around each other their first year partnered together.
More strands of highlighted hair fell into her face, and once again, Elliot reached out to sweep it back behind her ear. That was when their eyes met, and suddenly nothing was very funny anymore.
His hand lingered in her hair, just behind her ear, while they searched each other's eyes. Olivia knew, in that moment, both of them were thinking the same thing. That suspicion was then confirmed when she saw Elliot's eyes drift toward her lips, and felt his hand cupping her cheek.
His other hand still held hers back against his chest, and his thumb stroked over her knuckles while he took a step closer. Her eyes were wide, she was questioning him, but... felt no urge whatsoever to stop him.
There was no mistaking it -- Elliot was going to kiss her. Her lips twitched as his got closer. She just barely choked out the first syllable of his name. "El..."
His lips got within centimeters of her own and Olivia drew in a breath as inaudibly as she could, her lips parting with the breath. Elliot's parted as well, and he tilted his head to seal them together... when his buzzing cell phone jarred them apart.
"Fuck," he swore under his breath, and flipped his phone open savagely, practically growling, "Stabler."
Olivia spun away sharply and closed her eyes, one hand planted on her hip, steadying her, while the fingers of her other hand went to her lips. They were tingling like mad and Elliot hadn't even kissed her.
They were never going to survive this case. She could feel it. She felt it when they took the case, she felt it everytime 'Jack' would touch her as Liz... she felt it when she kissed him in the hospital.
Everything that had built between them for eight years -- this slow burn -- was going to explode.
*****
"So what's going on with those two dancers?" was the first thing out of Elliot's mouth when they arrived back at the precinct. "Were they drugged?" His jaw was tense and his hands were continually clenching into fists at his sides; he was seething, that much was certain. And Olivia was pretty sure she knew why. Her lips tingled as if in answer.
Munch, either not noticing Elliot's foul mood or choosing to ignore it, slowly spun in his chair and propped his feet up on the corner of his desk. "No need to drug either of them."
Olivia frowned at that. "Why not?"
"Both are coke addicts. One recovering, one notsomuch."
Her brows flicked upward. "Well. That definitely makes the perp's job a little easier for him. I mean, when it comes down to it... who's going to believe a couple of junkie strippers?"
Munch nodded slowly. "My thoughts exactly. But Casey's trying to get a hold of their medical records anyway."
"Great," Elliot replied quickly, flicking through their casefile.
Olivia threw a furtive glimpse at him and then looked to Munch, who raised his eyebrows. As much as she adored Munch, she wasn't about to clue him in on why Elliot was so pissed, so she merely shrugged her shoulders and turned away.
Once Munch had gone about his business - or had gone off to find Fin, she wasn't sure - Olivia took a few steps toward her partner, whose back was facing her. She didn't want to startle him or irk him any further, so she took a few steps toward him and placed her hand gently but firmly on his back, just between his shoulder blades.
Within seconds, she could literally feel all of the tension leaving his muscles, and he straightened his spine, keeping his head lowered. She took another few steps into him, never moving her hand - needing the connection probably as badly as he did. "Elliot, maybe you should take a long lunch break, go visit the gym. Something to work off your, uh... extra energy."
Elliot spun to face her and his eyes were a fiery blue. He searched her eyes and his response, to Olivia, was clear -- that wasn't the way he wanted to work out his frustration. And she wished more than anything that she could tell him she'd rather he work out his frustrations in other (more pleasurable) ways as well... but she couldn't. So she just stared back.
Finally, he nodded, almost resolutely. His jaw clenched again and he got out, "Fine," before gathering his coat and heading for the door.
And just a few short hours to go before her big debut.
TBC
{x-posted to eoshippers and olivia_elliot}
CHAPTER 7
FANDOM: Law & Order: SVU
PAIRING: Elliot/Olivia
SPOILERS: Season seven-ish, pre-trilogy
RATING: R for adult themes
SUMMARY:
*****
"Ouch! Shit!" Pain radiated through her knees as Olivia hit the hardwood floor, and she blew her bangs out of her eyes. Standing up, she wiped the grit from the floor off her palms, wiping them on her gray yoga pants. Then, she straightened her tanktop and gripped the pole again, sighing at her reflection in the mirrored wall. How in the hell did she ever think she could pull this off? She was in way over her head. The wig (which she'd have to put on again in just a matter of hours), the clothes, the persona... and Elliot.
At the mere thought of his name, her lips began to tingle. She'd only kissed him for a few fleeting seconds, but apparently that was all it took to set her on fire. And judging by the look on Elliot's face immediately afterward, it had done something to him, too. She knew they wouldn't be able to do this; it was putting them too close. They were too close to begin with.
She couldn't think about this now. She had training to do. In less than four hours she'd be up on stage, in skimpy clothes, bending and writhing and twisting for a bunch of grimey, sweaty, smoke-scented creeps. And Elliot.
Olivia grabbed the pole and forced her thoughts away from her partner. Her knees still smarted from the fall but she pressed on, turning on her boombox again and closing her eyes, taking a couple deep breaths. Soon the music started up again, her favorite up-tempo Whitney Houston song from when she was going through her 'Bodyguard' phase. Then, she let out her breath, and began to dance.
First, she walked around the pole twice, building up momentum. Her arm was extended high above her head, hanging on to the pole then as she lifted herself into the air, hooked one bent leg around the pole, and swung herself around, landing on her feet again. Sweat still clung to her from earlier but she didn't mind the feeling, losing herself in the music, and the motions.
Throughout the song, Olivia alternated between swinging herself around the pole rapidly, with legs either bent or straight, and slowly winding her body around it, either upside-down or rightside-up. Part of her didn't understand why she'd never thought of doing something like this before to keep in shape. It was a hell of a workout. Her upper body was practically vibrating from the exertion, and she was feeling a definite burning sensation in her quadriceps and hamstrings.
Up, down, around, and back again she twisted herself, bending her body into positions she never once imagined getting herself into. She climbed the pole straight to the top a few times and then held herself up while she carefully, steadily tipped her legs over her head and let them spread apart, winding slowly down the pole, upside-down, to the floor.
So immersed was she in her dance that she didn't notice her partner's arrival. And Elliot, in the doorway of the small exercise room, was content to keep it that way. He stood there, in plain view but unnoticed, and just watched her. She was so graceful, her lithe, toned body bending and twisting around the stainless steel pole as if she was molding into it. The sweat that glistened off her arms, shoulders, and what he could see of her flat abs glinted under the fluorescent lights, the white tanktop enhancing her tan complexion. He noted her wig was off, her shoulder-length caramel-highlighted hair obstructing her vision every time she'd flip herself upside-down.
And he had to smile every time this happened, because every time she would blow a puff of air through those lush lips (the very same ones that had touched his own mere hours ago) to get them out of the way. She really had no idea how gorgeous she was sometimes, and that astounded him. She had no idea that she turned practically every head of every passerby on the street; she had no clue just how many men in their precinct and others revered her as some kind of goddess that could pound their asses into the floor. And she had no idea what she did to him.
Like that kiss. So short, so fleeting, and yet somehow he knew it changed the course of his life forever. He'd never be able to go back to the way he felt about her before their lips touched. Everything was enhanced now. Every nuance about her stood out five times stronger than before.
At least she was affected by the kiss too. Or she seemed to be, from what he could tell. He wasn't completely certain, as his mind had gone just a little hazy after that kiss broke.
"Hey, are you stalking me?" Her voice startled him from his thoughts, and he looked up to meet her eyes, hoping he didn't look too surprised.
Nonchalantly, he shrugged. "Not very well, no."
Olivia smiled and it both shattered his heart and made it soar. The things she did to him...
"So what're you doing here?"
"Hmm?" He tore his eyes away from her collarbone, where the beads of sweat seemed to be particularly shiny. "Oh, uh... just thought you could use some company."
"Oh." She wasn't buying it, that much was obvious in the way she looked him up and down. Like a perp, he realized. "Thanks." Then, she jerked her chin toward the bench over in the corner. "Toss me that towel, wouldja?"
"Sure." He grabbed the small white towel she'd indicated and flung it in her direction, smirking when she chuckled, pulling it from its landing spot over her face.
As she dabbed the sweat off herself and he watched, their eyes alternately flicked to each other's. The moment would've been awkward without eight-years-worth of history. "So what're you really doing here, Elliot?"
"I heard you'd be down here. And... I..."
She raised her eyebrows. "Thought I could use some company?"
It was only upon hearing it from her lips that Elliot realized how lame that sounded. But still, he nodded. "Yeah."
"Uh-huh." Skepticism was heavy in her tone but she didn't dispute him; instead, she dabbed the sweat off her arms and tossed the towel aside, planting her hands on her hips. "So how'd I do?"
"Huh?"
Olivia tilted her head downward, hair falling into her face hiding her smile. Her tongue peeked out and pressed against her upper lip. "The dance," she clarified. "How did I do?"
"Oh! Uh..." Answering could get him into trouble. If he said she did well, it'd be a dead giveaway of just how closely he'd been watching. So, he shrugged. "Okay, I guess. I didn't really see much." He blinked, realizing this is how perps must feel when questioned by the beautiful detective in front of him.
Her brown eyes scrutinized him, narrowed slightly as she contemplated the lie. Then, she nodded and shrugged. "Alright."
This was going well. "So you're headlining tonight, huh?"
"Yeah, unfortunately. Dressed as Little Red Riding Hood."
Elliot made a face. "Why? Some of the patrons got weird fairytale fantasies?"
"I'd guess because of my stage name. I just hope I don't have to carry pies out with me."
He laughed, even though the image of Olivia dressed as a skimpy version of Little Red Riding Hood did things to his pulse that he didn't want to think about. "At least you know you don't have to go topless."
"That's one plus, yes." She touched his arm and brought him back to himself. "Actually, I should thank you for that."
"Really?" He raised his eyebrows. "Figured you would've stuck my balls in a blender for that move."
"No. That kind of protectiveness, I can handle." She smirked, a bit ruefully. "It's the secretive, protective detail stuff you do without telling me that makes me wanna reach for the nearest blender."
"Ah." He smiled and stepped a little closer to him when she tilted her head. That was the patented Olivia Benson invite for flirtation. He didn't mind spending a bit of time flirting with her. "Well what kinda partner would I be if I didn't look out for ya all the time?"
Her brows flicked upward and her bangs fell into her eyes. "The normal kind, I guess."
"You don't get normal with me, baby," he teased with a chuckle, and without thought his fingers moved her bangs out of her eyes. "I'm not just a normal partner, and you're not just a normal partner to me either."
"Really." It wasn't really a question, nor was it a statement.
"Mm-hmm."
"So you're saying you wouldn't have taken this kind of undercover operation with your last partner."
He laughed. "Nah, I'm thinkin' he wouldn't look nearly as good in the outfits as you do. Although the stilettos didn't look too bad on him."
Olivia surprised him with her laugh -- so rarely heard, but absolutely beautiful nonetheless -- as her head tipped back and her hand reached out to swipe playfully at his chest. Elliot wanted to grab that hand and press a kiss to her knuckles. Somehow, he managed to hold back... from kissing her knuckles, anyway. His hand seemed to reach out without his consent and grabbed onto hers, holding it against his chest.
Olivia's laughter slowly faded as she took in the wide grin on her partner's face, and her head tilted of its own accord to the other side. She adored flirting with Elliot Stabler; there was no other feeling like the rush she got from doing it. And they hadn't done this -- just flirted -- in so long it seemed sometimes. It reminded her very much of how they behaved around each other their first year partnered together.
More strands of highlighted hair fell into her face, and once again, Elliot reached out to sweep it back behind her ear. That was when their eyes met, and suddenly nothing was very funny anymore.
His hand lingered in her hair, just behind her ear, while they searched each other's eyes. Olivia knew, in that moment, both of them were thinking the same thing. That suspicion was then confirmed when she saw Elliot's eyes drift toward her lips, and felt his hand cupping her cheek.
His other hand still held hers back against his chest, and his thumb stroked over her knuckles while he took a step closer. Her eyes were wide, she was questioning him, but... felt no urge whatsoever to stop him.
There was no mistaking it -- Elliot was going to kiss her. Her lips twitched as his got closer. She just barely choked out the first syllable of his name. "El..."
His lips got within centimeters of her own and Olivia drew in a breath as inaudibly as she could, her lips parting with the breath. Elliot's parted as well, and he tilted his head to seal them together... when his buzzing cell phone jarred them apart.
"Fuck," he swore under his breath, and flipped his phone open savagely, practically growling, "Stabler."
Olivia spun away sharply and closed her eyes, one hand planted on her hip, steadying her, while the fingers of her other hand went to her lips. They were tingling like mad and Elliot hadn't even kissed her.
They were never going to survive this case. She could feel it. She felt it when they took the case, she felt it everytime 'Jack' would touch her as Liz... she felt it when she kissed him in the hospital.
Everything that had built between them for eight years -- this slow burn -- was going to explode.
*****
"So what's going on with those two dancers?" was the first thing out of Elliot's mouth when they arrived back at the precinct. "Were they drugged?" His jaw was tense and his hands were continually clenching into fists at his sides; he was seething, that much was certain. And Olivia was pretty sure she knew why. Her lips tingled as if in answer.
Munch, either not noticing Elliot's foul mood or choosing to ignore it, slowly spun in his chair and propped his feet up on the corner of his desk. "No need to drug either of them."
Olivia frowned at that. "Why not?"
"Both are coke addicts. One recovering, one notsomuch."
Her brows flicked upward. "Well. That definitely makes the perp's job a little easier for him. I mean, when it comes down to it... who's going to believe a couple of junkie strippers?"
Munch nodded slowly. "My thoughts exactly. But Casey's trying to get a hold of their medical records anyway."
"Great," Elliot replied quickly, flicking through their casefile.
Olivia threw a furtive glimpse at him and then looked to Munch, who raised his eyebrows. As much as she adored Munch, she wasn't about to clue him in on why Elliot was so pissed, so she merely shrugged her shoulders and turned away.
Once Munch had gone about his business - or had gone off to find Fin, she wasn't sure - Olivia took a few steps toward her partner, whose back was facing her. She didn't want to startle him or irk him any further, so she took a few steps toward him and placed her hand gently but firmly on his back, just between his shoulder blades.
Within seconds, she could literally feel all of the tension leaving his muscles, and he straightened his spine, keeping his head lowered. She took another few steps into him, never moving her hand - needing the connection probably as badly as he did. "Elliot, maybe you should take a long lunch break, go visit the gym. Something to work off your, uh... extra energy."
Elliot spun to face her and his eyes were a fiery blue. He searched her eyes and his response, to Olivia, was clear -- that wasn't the way he wanted to work out his frustration. And she wished more than anything that she could tell him she'd rather he work out his frustrations in other (more pleasurable) ways as well... but she couldn't. So she just stared back.
Finally, he nodded, almost resolutely. His jaw clenched again and he got out, "Fine," before gathering his coat and heading for the door.
And just a few short hours to go before her big debut.
TBC
{x-posted to eoshippers and olivia_elliot}