AN: Thank you for all your kind words regarding this story. I know it's a total mind f**k but I really appreciate you guys bending reality with me and allowing me to try something different. Apologies again for the infrequent updates on all my stories. The words don't flow as well as they used to.

CHAPTER 10: MONDAY NIGHT

9:55pm

She draws down the comforter on his bed, sporting a pair of his gym shorts and a NYPD t-shirt and watches as he climbs into the opposite side.

"Let the record state," she begins with a look. "The only reason I'm not on the couch is because I'm not about to have you lying on the living room floor watching me sleep."

"Noted." He says tugging up the sheet and turning away from her to switch off his bedside lamp. He feels her move under the covers but the room doesn't evaporate into darkness like he expects and he soon realizes it's because she is struggling with her own lamp.

He looks over at her trying every which way to turn it off and it's instant, his eyes coast down her pajama clad body until they land on her ass. He never imagined in a million years Olivia Benson would be sharing his bed let alone that he'd be ogling her ass.

"You've gotta push it in." He tells her, feeling like a grade A ass for focusing on her backside like this.

"I know how a light works Elliot," she mumbles sarcastically, moving up onto her elbows, still fumbling with it. "It's jammed."

He moves across the bed then, his chest haphazardly bumping her shoulder as he attempts to grasp the light from her. Their fingers brush as he pushes the switch in but it won't budge, he tries again and again but it won't relent.

"I told you." She rasps, her hand coming off the light entirely but realizing she's got nowhere to go. He moves up onto his hands and knees to get a better hold, not realizing it results in his body practically caging hers in the process.

They are close now.

Real close.

He's pretty much on top of her.

He looks down at her, the heavy scent of her shampoo sending him into a spin.

"I'm gonna switch it off at the wall," she whispers up at him and he can tell she is uneasy.

She starts to move up and he allows her space to move off the bed, watching as she pulls the plug firmly out of the wall.

They're enveloped in darkness and he holds his breath, wading through the silence until she is sinking back down into bed once more.

He presses his eyes closed.

Then he hears is.

"El."

"Yeah." He whispers quietly.

"Do you need me to take the couch?"

The question renders him still.

She had caught his desire clear as day.

"No," he whispers quietly.

A few beats of silence pass until she says it.

"Night Elliot."

2:03am

He wakes up to a face full of soft fragrant tresses, somehow his body had found it's way sidled up against hers in the night. His hand is resting on her hip as his chest coats her back. She isn't moving but he can feel her soft, continuous breaths against him. He sighs into the back of her hair, their positioning feeling far too familiar than it should. God she smells good. A few beats pass, his hand aching to run across the lip of her t-shirt where the small strip of skin is exposed but somehow he manages to refrain.

He feels her start to stir against him and he holds his breath ready to feel her recoil at their proximity but instead she just stills in place and they both wade through the silence. He can feel her breathing has changed in response to her consciousness and his mouth aches to descend on the back of her neck, desperate to pepper a stream of warm kisses on her cool skin. He imagines his tongue tracing her avidly until a low sound leaves her throat, husky in timbre. He already knows how her body would react to his, how it would respond and he can feel the makings of his erection forming at the memories of her going down on him.

"Elliot."

He freezes in place.

"Uh huh."

Silence.

"How do I know you didn't send those tapes?"

He blinks against the darkness and he feels like he's just been sucker punched in the gut.

Did he just hear that right?

He pulls back, his hand slipping off her hip and he stares at the back of her head in shock.

"Seriously?" He whispers.

She begins to turn around then and face him, he can only just make her features out in the darkness.

"I'm just asking." She says slowly. "How do I know?"

He must be dreaming.

For her to be honestly asking that question, a dream would be the only explanation.

"I'm not going to dignify that with an answer."

"How do I know?" She repeats once more.

"Because I'm your partner for Godsake." He rasps back, furious that she'd think for a second he could have somehow created this entire thing.

"The same partner who invited me into his bed for God knows what reason." She doesn't miss a beat.

He moves back and scrubs a hand over his face.

"Jesus that's not what this is."

"Elliot I'm well aware of what you want." She responds. "You can't go five seconds without touching me."

"I didn't send those tapes Olivia." He shakes his head at her. "And I certainly didn't secretly record us fucking without your knowledge. Are you actually aware what you're accusing me of?"

She stays deathly silent and he shakes his head in dismay.

"You kissed me that night on your couch." He whispers through the darkness. "The night we watched the footage. You do remember that don't you?"

"What's your point?" She whispers back.

"Well I'm well aware of what you want too, you're just a hell of a lot better at hiding it."

That shuts her up.

But not for long.

She grasps her pillow and tugs the bed sheet clean off his body.

"I'll be on the couch."

TBC