Summary: Elliot and Olivia wake up in bed together with no recollection of the past 24 hours.
When a strange package in the mail arrives boasting answers they both seek, will they regret opening it?
Style: SVU meets Mulholland Drive.
CHAPTER 1: SUNDAY
She rouses slowly.
Her face against pillow, her mouth is dry and there is a hefty weight on her back.
Her eyes blink open, a wave passes through her as if she is experiencing vertigo.
She takes in the unfamiliar bedside table with dark maroon furnishings.
Jesus where is she?
She tries to move her hip but there is a man's hand on the ridge of her bare waist. She turns, her clammy skin slick against his as she attempts to move full circle but his weight is blocking her from moving off her front.
Her eyes slowly move up the muscular arm strewn across her body, confusion, disorientation and bewilderment all intermingling in her chest.
And when her eyes move up the path of his muscular arm she sees it.
A crucifix tattoo.
He feels movement stirring under his body.
He opens his eyes to see a flash of brown hair, bronze skin and stark red lace as the semi naked woman beneath him turns in his arms.
The smell of vanilla, sweat and sex fill his nostrils.
He clears his throat, his head is reeling in response to being conscious, confusion intermingling his chest as a flash of generous cleavage fills his eye line.
He must be dreaming.
His eyes move up from woman's lace bra and his mouth practically drops when he captures those bewildered brown almond eyes staring back at him.
Olivia Benson.
He's definitely dreaming.
She rears back a little, trying to separate their sticky clammy bodies.
"What the," her sleepy voice cracks as her hand slips downward, tugging the burgundy sheet upward and across her chest.
He's staring back at her with a look of confusion that mirrors hers.
"Elliot what is.." she whispers her voice trailing off as she tries to gather her bearings. She doesn't feel hung over, but she certainly doesn't feel lucid.
This feeling is entirely different to anything she has experienced and her chest is swarming in confusion as to just what happened in the past 24 hours.
He is staring at her blankly before his eyes move towards the bedside clock.
8:02am
She licks her lips, her mouth dry as the desert.
She needs water and she needs it now.
"Liv," he says in a weighted breath, his crystal blues settling uneasily back on hers.
"What is going on?"
She clicks the bathroom door closed.
Her eyes settling on herself in the mirror.
Only the ghost of her lipstick remains as smudged markings of her eyeliner hides in the corners.
She lowers the sheet she has clasped around her body and she takes in the blemishes on her neck. Hickeys, light markings down the column of her throat to the tops of her breasts.
She lowers it even further, inspecting her body, turning in the mirror to gauge the state of her back, her thighs. Her eyes move across the red lace panties she is sporting, her eyebrows knitting together as to where they have even come from.
She doesn't even own red underwear.
What is happening?
She is still feeling shaky on her feet so she leans forward, grasping the marble counter top in her palm before she is filling her hands with water, taking a few sips before splashing her face with cold water.
What the hell is going on?
He hears the click of the door as she emerges from the bathroom, his burgundy sheet is wrapped tightly around her like saran wrap.
His eyes settle uneasily on her profile as she starts looking around the room.
She moves to his side of the bed, lifting her eyes up only briefly before she leans down and scoops up a cherry red dress from the floor. She inspects the piece of material in her hand with a look of hesitation.
"Is this mine?" she says in a whisper, still clinging to the sheet as a protective barrier.
His eyebrows raise then and he lets out a breath.
"I- I don't know?" He says honestly. "You don't remember wearing it?" He asks her.
"I don't even remember owning it," she responds through a wavering breath.
He shakes his head, the questions between them only continuing to surmount.
"Liv.. what is the last thing you remember?"
TBC
AN: I'll post Monday's chapter on Monday (and so on).