Rating: T (parts 1 & 2) / M (part 3), sexual situations/concepts and strong language

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Dick Wolf, NBC et al.

Spoilers: None – set in one of the later seasons, pick your fave and go with it.

Pairing: Elliot/Olivia all the way

Summary: Elliot and Olivia's joint abduction and subsequent therapy forces them to confront the truth of their relationship.

I.

"Kiss her."

"…What?"

"You heard me."

"…Why?"

"Because I'm the one with the gun."

"What is it you're tryin' to do here?"

"What you did to me, Detective Stabler."

"Which is?"

"Ruin your life, your relationships—"

"You did that all on your own, Duncan."

"And now you're gonna do it. With a little help from your partner." Duncan hooked a hand into Olivia's elbow, hauling her to her feet by her bound arms. "Up we get, sweetheart..."

Olivia rose unsteadily, tripping on the cracked concrete but managing to disguise her dizziness.

"Leave her outta this," Elliot growled, unshackled but just as powerless, "she's got nothing to do with my life or relationships."

Duncan sidled in close behind her, smirking at her while pressing Elliot's gun into her ribs. "Aw, that must hurt. Hearing how unimportant you are to him."

Olivia tipped her chin up, angling her face away from his rancid breath.

Elliot took a tentative step forward, both hands raised. "I'm married, Duncan, I'm not in a relationship with Detective Benson—"

Duncan turned his maniacal smirk on Elliot. "S'that what you tell yourself late at night when you're lying next to your wife? Or when you're rutting on top of her boring old bones?"

Elliot's hands dropped to his sides, his eyes narrowed to slits. "Unlike you, I'm capable of being faithful to one woman."

"Let's test that theory, shall we?" He gave Olivia a shove, sending her stumbling toward her partner. "Ungag her."

Elliot caught her, hands gentle on her pinned arms. "And then what? What's all this gonna prove, except your own depravity?"

"I'm glad you asked, Elly, cos here's the deal—" Duncan headed to the table in the middle of his makeshift torture chamber, his darkly smug voice echoing off the cool, grey walls. "It's gonna ruin both your relationships, just like you did mine. It's gonna make sure that neither of the women you love will ever trust you again. And best of all, it's gonna prove that you…" he settled a chunky thigh on the table edge, eyes glinting at his prey, "are just like me."

"Oh yeah? And how's that?"

"You're like every sexual predator you've ever hunted. Because just like them," he waved his gun at Olivia, "you want what you shouldn't. And now," he rose, gun pointed and jaw set, "you're finally gonna get it."

-x-

"What happened next?"

George Huang watches the two SVU detectives exchange a look and silently decide who will field his question. Mere seconds pass before Olivia takes the lead:

"Elliot took the duct tape off my mouth."

"And then?"

This time there's no look. Olivia turns her head toward her partner but doesn't speak. Elliot shifts in his seat. George turns his gaze on the other man.

"Elliot?"

Elliot shrugs in his blazer, a slight sheen on his brow. "Do we really need to do this together?" he mutters, adding under his breath, "Or at all?"

George inhales, summoning the patience of his profession at the expected resistance. "The two of you were captured and traumatized together. It makes sense that we process the incident jointly. Especially since the fear is that it could impact your partnership."

Elliot's gaze contracts. "Whose fear?"

"It hasn't," Olivia interjects more calmly. "Impacted our partnership."

George nods then turns to her partner. "Would you agree with that, Elliot?"

"We're fine," he mumbles, voice an irritated rumble and eyes on the plush carpeting, "Duncan was just another dirtbag, we've seen hundreds."

"Nevertheless," George murmurs evenly, "your captain is concerned about the health of your partnership after this incident. And unfortunately my case load means I don't have time to see you separately. I could recommend someone else who might, if that's what you'd prefer."

He leaves a gap, once again watching the silent communication of the long-time partners. He assumes they've already discussed this in private. Olivia indicates as much with her eyes. Elliot backs down with a bob of the head. Both would prefer him to a shrink they don't know, one assigned by the force. That's why their captain enlisted him. That, and the insight he's earned by years of watching Elliot and Olivia operate without them suspecting all he saw.

George glances down at the case file then lifts his brows at his Sex Crimes colleagues. "Shall we continue?"

Elliot sighs heavily but rattles off, as if by rote, "The perp dragged Olivia over to me, told me to ungag her…"

"I told Elliot that I was fine," Olivia continues, picking up his abandoned sentence, "to just…do whatever Duncan wanted."

George nods. "So you consented?"

"She didn't say anything, she just…" Elliot glances sideways at his partner, "she looked at me."

Olivia returns the sidelong look. "No, I said it."

"No, that was later—"

George holds up a hand to stall them. "But, Elliot, you understood that Olivia was fine?"

Elliot humphs, gaze drifting away from his partner and around the non-descript office. "Her hands were taped behind her back, she had a bloody lip, a dislocated shoulder and, for all I knew, a concussion. I think fine is a bit of an overstatement."

"I was fine," Olivia says, gaze clear and direct.

"She was fine." Elliot shrugs and waves a hand at her. "She's always fine."

"With what needed to happen, I mean."

"I see." George scribbles a few notes then looks up at Olivia. "So, Olivia, tell me what happened next."

-x-

"Kiss her, Detective, or I will. And your gorgeous partner will have you to blame for my tongue down her throat and my big Neanderthal hands on her ass." Duncan glowered at her, baring his teeth and getting right up in her face. "That's what you called me, wasn't it, sweetheart? A Neanderthal with a superiority complex?"

Olivia's eyes flicked to the gun, held loosely at his side. "Prove me wrong."

"I'm gonna do better than that," Duncan muttered, reading her intent and retreating. "I'm gonna show you the Neanderthal lurking beneath your partner's civilized exterior. Because beneath this shirt and tie," he bunched Elliot's crumpled shirt and tie in one fist, yanking him forward and suspending him there, "beneath all that sensitivity and morality, there's an animal just like me."

"He's nothing like you," Olivia told him, standing tall in her restraints. "And it doesn't matter what you make him do, you'll never turn him into you. Because whatever you make him do, I'll give him permission."

Duncan grinned and shoved Elliot away by his shirt-front. "You know, it's touching how much faith you have in him." He began to circle the two of them, lifting his weapon and stroking his temple with it, "Let's see how much is left after I have him assault you."

Olivia's eyes tracked his every movement. "It's not assault if I want it, if I consent. And I do."

"Oh yeah, you want it, don't you? You want him."

"Always have. You're just giving me what I've wanted for years."

"Liv—"

Olivia kept her eyes trained on Duncan. "Shut up, El."

"Liv—"

"I said shut up. And do what the man says."

Duncan quit circling. He stuck the gun barrel in Olivia's back, prodding her closer to her partner and snarling at him over her shoulder, "Yeah, El. Shut up and do what the man says."

-x-

Elliot rises abruptly. Olivia's eyes follow him.

George pauses, folding his hands on his desktop. "Elliot, do you need to take a break?"

"No," he grunts, heading for the only window in the small office.

George looks at his partner. "Olivia?"

She nods once. "I'm fine."

"Told ya," Elliot mutters triumphantly from the window.

George takes another pause before pressing on. "So Elliot, did you follow Duncan's instructions? Did you kiss Olivia?"

Elliot clears his throat then delivers a deceptively easy, "Yeah!"

Olivia's response, when he turns to her, is more sedate. "Yes, he did. He…kept it light, brief."

"Not that it satisfied Duncan," her partner grumbles, drawing back the blinds with two fingers and peering outside.

"He wanted to see you squirm," George states.

"No kidding."

"He wanted to break you down then break you apart."

Elliot stands up straight, lets the blinds fall back into their neat little rows. "Yeah, and I'm not giving him the satisfaction."

"Which is why you've done the right thing in coming here to clear the air and put this incident behind you."

He slumps again, wagging his head at the floor. "Incident…"

George draws in a breath, letting the silence sit for a moment. Then he asks in his usual mild tone, "Elliot, would you mind coming and sitting down again?"

Elliot looks up but not at him. His eyes find his partner's and another silent exchange takes place across the length of the office. George has no illusions about who it is that manages to convince Elliot to re-take the seat opposite his desk and adjacent to Olivia's.

"Now, before we go on," he continues, facing the two of them across his orderly desktop, "I need to establish the nature of your personal relationship. And I'm sorry if the following question causes any discomfort but let me once again assure you that these sessions are confidential. Let me also assure you that there is no judgement attached to this line of enquiry as I understand the unique intimacy that can occur in some partnerships—"

"Oh, for God's sake, get on with it…!"

George takes Elliot's outburst in stride, moving onto the question he needs answered. "During your years of partnership, has anything of a romantic and/or sexual nature ever occurred between the two of you?"

Elliot's temper swings the other way and he withdraws in his seat. "What kind of question is that?"

"What I mean is, was this the first time you've ever kissed each other because that changes—"

"Yes," Elliot interjects in an affronted, decisive tone.

"Yes," Olivia adds, modifying her partner's response. "First time. We've never—…no."

"No." Elliot shifts in his seat again, adjusting his jacket on his body.

"I see," George picks up his pen, returning to his notes as he asks, "But Elliot, you say that it wasn't enough for Duncan?"

"Too tame. Guess he wanted a little more…raunch."

"And how did you handle that?"

-x-

"That was pathetic! Are you fucking kidding me? That's how you kiss the woman you've lusted after for years?!" Duncan was bent at the waist, eyes wet and bulging as he cackled with vicious delight. "Christ, Elly, where are your balls? That's not how you—" he beckoned to Olivia with his gun, "come 'ere, sweetheart, let me show you how—"

Elliot tightened his grip on her with one hand, the other bolting out to stall Duncan. "No."

"No?" He halted, looking dangerously taken aback and simultaneously impressed. "You want another shot at her, Stabler? You think you can do better? Cos I think your lil' Livy would prefer a real man—"

Olivia pressed closer to her partner. "I'm good, right here."

He gave a helpless shrug, mouth tugging up at one edge. "Well, it's good to see you two are hell bent on ruining your professional partnership. Eyes on the prize, I like that. That's what we're here for, after all…"

Duncan circled them once, steely gaze drifting over the scuffed and battered length of them. He took in the location of Elliot's hands – one positioned protectively on her lower back under her bound hands, the other on the much safer territory of her uninjured shoulder, shielding her slightly from his view. Both hands dropped away the second Elliot was made conscious of where they were by this three hundred and sixty degree scrutiny. Olivia likewise withdrew from her partner, placing a greater distance between his body and her own. Any face-saving detachment wouldn't last long though. Because on his next rotation, Duncan shunted Elliot's shoulder, prompting impatiently:

"Well? What're you waitin' for? Take it away, Elly. And this time…kiss her like you really mean it." He leant in and whispered in his ear, "Go ahead and take her the way you've always wanted."

Elliot glared at their chuckling captor has he continued circling, moving out of his reach, out of range of the punch he was aching to throw. Olivia saw him tamping down his most violent of impulses and whispered a soft and steady don't.

His eyes met hers. "Liv…"

"S'okay…" she held his gaze, gave an infinitesimal shake of her head, "forget about him, just—" she shifted closer as his gaze was drawn by the madman behind her, "look at me, focus on me."

His head drooped, shaking faintly. "Sorry…"

"El. El…" Olivia ducked her head to catch his gaze. And once she did, she made sure his eyes remained locked on hers. "Right here, okay? Right here with me…" Then she gave him a small nod.

Elliot drew in a breath, scanning her eyes for any sign of uncertainty or distrust or disappointment. But Olivia's gaze was straight and certain and prepared. He exhaled in gratitude. He cupped one side of her face with one hand. Then both. There was dirt on her cheek from when she'd been lying, hands and feet bound, on the floor of the van. He dusted it off, leant in slightly – then stopped. Olivia leant in when he hesitated, making the kiss more mutual than it was supposed to be and leaving him only a millimeter or three to close before he was kissing her. He couldn't dive right in and kiss her full on the mouth, just like he couldn't the first time. Instead, Elliot had placed a soft, chaste kiss on one corner of her mouth, the corner without a trickle of blood leaking from it.

This time though, he went for that bloody little corner, he fit his mouth over the gash, he lapped up her blood, smudging it over his lips as he followed its trail down to her bruised chin. When his mouth rose back to hers, his breath was quickening and his reservations all but spent. Olivia met him with an open mouth that fit perfectly with his whichever angle they tried. It felt perfect to have his bottom lip between hers or hers between his. To feel them rasp wetly along each other, sliding one way then another, sucking on a favorite spot for a blinding moment before moving on to find yet more perfection. When Olivia stifled a moan and introduced her tongue into the kiss, he grunted in response and dropped an arm to wrap round her body, hauling her as close as he could get her. He was not completely insensate to the fact that her hands were bound or to their grim surroundings. The kiss was the kiss of two people in mortal danger. Yet it also transcended their present predicament, dwarfed it, mocked it with its unbridled bliss.

Such bliss proved unacceptable to their captor who felt he was being mocked, excluded, forgotten. Duncan knew he was losing control of the room. So he began to applaud, loud and slow, breaking their spell and causing the two of them to abruptly yank apart. He sauntered over, slinging an arm round each of their shoulders.

"Aw, now, see? Can't you guys feel yourselves splitting at the seams already? Undoing all those years of trust and faith and well-intentioned distance?" He tapped his gun against the back of Elliot's skull. "It's working, init, Stabler? Can you feel that inner Neanderthal rising to the surface cos I'm sure Benson here can – am I right, Liv?" He winked at her as though he'd just delivered some stunning innuendo, slapping her bottom and forcing her hips into her partner's. Then Duncan danced away, announcing, "Okay! Time to up the stakes. Let's really trash this thing."

-x-

A high-pitched trill pierces the silence. Huang apologizes, reaching into his breast pocket to silence the phone. On seeing the number on screen though, his brow crumples and he quickly excuses himself:

"I'm sorry. This is important, I've got to take this."

When the door shuts behind him, the silence falls heavier.

Elliot puts his hands on the arms of his chair, grasping them as he eases himself up onto his feet. There's a bandage round one of his hands and the knuckles on the other are scabbed with blood. He moves stiffly due to a pair of broken ribs, periodically lifting a hand to trace the stitches on his brow. He wanders to the window, his step slow and thoughtful. Pulling back the blinds again, he looks down at the sweltering street below. The FBI headquarters are ferociously air-conditioned, the artificially cool air sealed in like it's a state secret. This plus the building's height guarantees that no sound reaches Huang's claustrophobic little office. He can hear Olivia shift in her seat and pull in a careful breath.

"Elliot."

He doesn't answer. He knows she knows he's listening. Or he assumes she does.

"We can't let this break us. Or…change us."

He lets the blinds drop back, lifts his hand to his brow.

"Then he wins."

He turns, leaning back against the window sill with his arms crossed.

"That's why we're here."

"Can't…stop thinking 'bout," he murmurs, shaking his bowed head, "…what I did to you."

Olivia rises from her chair, her voice soft but insistent. "You didn't do anything to me. We survived a bad situation by doing the only thing we could."

"You don't…?" He can't finish the sentence, say it aloud. But he doesn't have to.

"You had my permission," she murmurs, moving a little closer. "Every step of the way. And…" she swallows and lowers her head, "I was hardly a passive participant."

Elliot lifts his gaze and looks her over, jaw set. "I exposed you."

"You protected me," she counters quietly, leaning back on the edge of Huang's desk.

"How did he…? I still…can't—" He gravitates toward her, facing the edge of the desk she's leaning against. He can't complete that question either, the second of many questions that have been keeping him awake at night. But then Kyle Duncan wouldn't be the first perp to figure him out, to figure them out without them even knowing it.

Olivia shrugs one shoulder. "He was a sociopath."

"Still…" Elliot looks down at his battered and bandaged fingers, "can't help feeling he was right. Doesn't matter…what we said before or what we say after…" he lifts his head, turns it to look at her, "everything's different now. We're different."

Olivia holds his gaze but doesn't say anything. She wants to protest. He can tell. But she's never been very good at deceit. Not when it comes to real life and not when it comes to him. She's trying to gather the requisite conviction to refute him when Elliot faces her, head tilted to one side.

"You know it's true," he says, voice low.

Olivia opens her mouth, drops her gaze. Then turns away, heading back to her seat. "Let's just wait and see what Huang has to say."

Elliot bobs his head a few times, willing to believe in a last-ditch cure if she is. He stretches his spine, feeling the pleasurably painful tug on his ribcage. Then he returns to his chair, easing back into it with a groan. "God," he mutters, "why can't therapy include alcohol?"

His partner casts him a sidelong glance and a dim smile.

-x-

They walk into the first bar they find after leaving Huang's office. The neighborhood is unfamiliar and swankier than they're used to. Olivia orders two outrageously expensive scotches before joining Elliot at a small wooden table.

"So…how many of these sessions d'you think there'll be?" she asks as she settles into her seat.

Elliot shrugs, loosening his tie. "However many it takes?"

Her eyes scan his face. "'Til?"

"We're cured? We're back to normal?"

She humphs as their drinks and bill arrive. "What's normal?"

"I dunno." Her partner picks up his drink, swirling the liquid in a circle and gazing into the vortex. "I'd rather just get on with it, you know? Do our job, deal with it in our own way—"

"You mean, not at all?"

He looks up. "It's worked for us in the past."

"Has it?" Olivia shakes her head, biting her lip before saying, "If we're going to continue working together, Elliot, we need to find a way of dealing—"

"What d'you mean if?" he interrupts with a frown.

She waves off the verbal slip, takes a sip of her drink. "Turn of phrase."

"Liv—"

Swallowing, she continues on with more momentum and urgency. "I mean, maybe the reason Duncan targeted us together was because…" she stalls, momentum faltering, "there's so much…unresolved stuff here."

Elliot's frown deepens. "There is?"

She rolls her eyes, turns her face away. "Don't start…"

"What's unresolved?"

"Are you kidding me?"

He shrugs and blinks at her. "What's unresolved?"

His partner looks at him, her eyes dark and mouth set in a straight line. "Elliot."

"What?" He puts down his drink and spreads his hands. "I'm not being—"

"I can't talk to you when you're like this," she mutters, shaking her head and getting to her feet.

Elliot watches her rise, his tone becoming more confused, more desperate. "Like what, for Christ's sake? I'm not—" He stands, voice dropping low. "Liv."

"Thanks for the drink," she murmurs, grabbing her jacket from the back of her chair before heading for the door.

Elliot drops back into his seat, mumbling to himself, "Didn't realize I was buying…" He picks up the bill folded discreetly on its little tray then tosses it away in exasperation.

TBC...

A/N: Stay tuned for part 2 coming real soon.