Hey everyone. Here it is! Chapter 10…the final chapter of New Beginning. I've already started on the continuing sequel, Moving Forward. I want to write a few chapters ahead before I launch it, to be sure I'm able to keep up with my commitment to upload a new chapter each week. As I mentioned last week, Elliot will be with the Feebs, and Olivia may get to do an undercover assignment with them. There'll be plot… and all kinds of angst and twists and turns. Thank you once again to all my readers, and to my reviewers (you know who you are)… a very special thank you!

He'd almost reached his destination and could hardly wait to take her in his arms. He was anticipating her surprise, since he wasn't supposed to be home until tomorrow. He knew she'd be working late... She'd told him it made the time go faster and took her mind off missing him. The corridors were completely empty and a quiet had settled over them—so unlike the hustle and bustle that filled them eighteen out of twenty-four hours. He turned the corner, and suddenly Elliot froze in his tracks, not believing what his eyes were revealing. Olivia stood just outside the squad room door wrapped in the arms of another man... and he was kissing her.

The white hot anger that raged through him caused him to stagger… He felt physically ill. He knew he couldn't take another step—he didn't trust himself to confront them. He lingered for a moment—just long enough to determine it was Bayard Ellis who was holding Olivia in his arms. He turned and left the building, the anger red-hot, now blinding him and pushing all other thoughts from his mind. He wouldn't remember later how he'd made it back to his car or the drive home after.

Chapter 10

One hour earlier...

"Benson." Olivia spoke into her phone.

"Olivia..."

"Bayard?" She hesitated… surprised he was calling her this late. "What can I do for you...?"

"I need a file from your office, Olivia… Thought I'd check to see if you were still around—I know you sometimes put in some pretty late hours. Since you picked up the phone, I have my answer," he chuckled. Are you gonna be there for a few more minutes?"

"Sounds like you're burning the midnight oil too, Bay… I'll be here at least another forty-five minutes to an hour. Tell me what file you need and I'll pull it for you."

"That would be great. Let's see... Theresa Burns is the name."

"I know exactly where it is—I'll pull it right now… See you in a bit."

"Thanks, Olivia, I'll be there in a half hour or so..."

Olivia hung up the phone and stood up, making her way over to the cabinet that held the file Bayard had requested. She hadn't seen him in a while—not since the 'Pena' case had been resolved, and she was a little nervous about seeing him now: She was grateful to him for how graciously he'd handled the case, and how supportive and caring he'd been with her throughout the whole mess... She counted him as a good friend. She enjoyed his company and valued their friendship, but she'd felt a little awkward since he'd found out about her relationship with David Haden. She wondered if he knew it had ended... She assumed he did, since David had accepted the new position. She doubted that he knew about Elliot—unless he and David had talked… It was unlikely he'd have heard it from any other source, since so few people knew.

She'd suspected Bayard was attracted to her... Truth be told, she'd been attracted to him, and if he'd pushed the envelope a little and made some kind of a move before David Haden came on the scene, she thought about how different things might have turned out. She smiled to herself realizing how thankful she was things had turned out the way they had... She'd never been so completely happy in her life, and she knew Elliot was the reason. He satisfied her in every possible way.

She got a little lost in her thoughts of Elliot… She wasn't one to place any credence in 'fate' or things happening 'according to a plan' or a 'higher power,' but she had to admit some pretty amazing things had come into play that resulted in she and Elliot finally being together: If he hadn't stopped by her apartment the very night David ended their relationship, and found her crying in her hallway… or if she'd been with Bayard instead of David… Hell, if she hadn't had the flashback and realized how safe Elliot made her feel… It went on and on—but everything could have been very different right now.

Trying to pull her thoughts away from Elliot and back to the task at hand, she opened the drawer and quickly found the file Bayard had requested. Going back to her desk, she set it aside and settled in her chair to wrap up the paperwork on the latest case she and Nick had caught earlier in the week.

She'd finished all the other paperwork, and finally entered the last bit of information from her DD5… Shutting the computer off, she glanced at her watch. It'd been almost forty-five minutes since Bayard's call, and she hoped he'd get here soon… She was ready to call it a day—a very long day. She found herself smiling as she remembered Elliot would be coming home tomorrow… She'd missed him every bit as much as she'd suspected she would, and couldn't wait to see him; welcome him back to her bed. She reached down and opened her drawer, retrieving her purse—then gathered her phone and keys, and slipped her jacket on.

The week had dragged in spite of keeping herself as busy as possible; it helped that she was back to full duty and out in the field. She'd heard from Elliot a couple of times and things were going great: He knew he'd done well in most areas of testing, but didn't have any final scores, and no sense yet as to what his schedule would look like once everything was evaluated.

Olivia was pulled from her thoughts when she heard the squad room door opening and she walked over to greet Bayard. He came striding toward her, setting his brief case down, and surprising her when he gave her a hug. "Hello, Olivia… It's nice to see you—it's been too long." He smiled down at her. "You've had no cases to throw my way lately…?" he teased.

"After Omar Pena—I wasn't sure…"

He didn't allow her to finish. "Olivia. There were mitigating circumstances in that case… You know that. I said it before: You're a good cop—and a good person," he added softly. "I will always welcome you—as a colleague—and a friend," he said with a smile. "Consultation on a case doesn't need to be the only reason to contact me, you know." He looked at her—one eyebrow raised—as though gauging her reaction to his statement.

"Uh, thank you, Bay." She smiled at him, moved by what he'd said—but a bit unsettled by the implications. "I have your file right here," she said, handing it to him.

"Thank you, Olivia." He took it from her and tucked it into a pocket on the side of his briefcase. "So—how are you?" He looked her up and down. "You're looking good," he said with a devilish grin—very un-Bayard-like. "I haven't seen you since…"

"…Omar Pena was released. I know," she finished for him, trying very hard to ignore the way he was looking at her: Was she actually being checked out by Bayard Ellis…? He was clearly flirting with her. She walked them toward the door, shutting a few lights off as they talked. "After it was over, I took some time off—strongly recommended by my Captain," she said with a rueful grin.

"So that explains why I could never get you to answer your precinct phone in the evening.

"You could have called me on my cell, Bay," she pointed out, holding it up for emphasis as she prepared to tuck it into her pocket. He pushed the door open and they walked through, standing just outside it.

"I didn't want to bother you if you weren't at work, Olivia… I wasn't sure what was going on for you…" He hesitated for a moment, waiting to catch her eye. "I know you and Haden broke it off…" he admitted.

Olivia lowered her eyes. "Yeah—we did. He wanted to take the new position…"

"It wasn't your idea to end it…?"

She kept her eyes lowered. "It's complicated, Bay. It was mutual… I wouldn't have let him pass up the job, anyway. And then…"

"Olivia, I'm sorry. It's none of my business, and I shouldn't have asked… I was just concerned about you." He watched her, silently entreating her to look up at him. When she raised her eyes to his, he smiled. "You deserve so much better than that, Olivia… Any man who would take a job and pass up the opportunity to be with you is a fool." He set his briefcase on the floor and stepped closer to her.

"Bay…?"

"You're a beautiful and amazing woman, Olivia Benson," he whispered.

"Bay… I'm…"

He continued talking. "I've thought about this ever since that moment on the court house steps—when you told me having me as my daughter's softball coach 'must be hell on the umpire.' You're feisty, Olivia. I like that… You're not intimidated by me—a lot of people are, you know." He grinned down at her, looking into her beautiful brown eyes. Before she could respond—or even think—he pulled her into his arms and wrapped himself around her, lowering his lips to hers. He kissed her—gently at first… But then with a passion that shocked her—she was too stunned to move.

Bayard pulled away, looking down at her—studying her face for a reaction. She froze: She knew he'd been flirting, but this was totally unexpected. She stood immobilized—looking up at him. She finally managed to stutter: "B-Bay… I didn't…"

"I'm not gonna say I'm sorry, Olivia—'cause I'm not. I should have made a move… months ago—before Haden ever entered the picture. I know this isn't the time—it's too soon—and for that I am sorry. But I wanted—needed you to know where I stand." He released her and bent down to pick up his brief case. When he straightened, he looked into her eyes once more.

"Bayard, I…"

"No..." He touched a finger to her lips. "…don't say anything right now. I—you needed to know what my intentions are. Goodnight, Olivia… Call me—when you're ready."

"But…"

He turned around and walked away, not once looking back.

Olivia attempted to pull herself together before leaving the precinct. She was having a difficult time processing what had just happened: She didn't know how to feel… She clearly knew this had no bearing on her feelings for Elliot… And she didn't have any feelings for Bayard, beyond friendship—but it was a friendship she valued. She couldn't bring herself to be angry with him: Bayard was a first-class gentleman. She admired and respected him… And he'd been a good friend to her. He would never have pulled what he did tonight if he'd known she was happily involved with another man. And since it'd only been three weeks since she'd ended things with David, he'd have no reason to expect she'd be involved in a serious relationship already.

What the hell was going on with her: Elliot was right… Men were coming out of the fucking woodwork! She'd never had this many men interested in her at one time; Hell…not in the last ten years—not men who were viable relationship material. Now that she was finally happy and no longer sexually frustrated, was she giving off some signal that made her more attractive to the opposite sex…? Was it because she no longer presented as 'needy' or 'desperate…?' Or was she suddenly producing more pheromones…? Whatever it was, it was a goddamned pain in the ass… Now there was one more man—another man she cared about and considered a friend—she'd feel guilty about. God, she just wanted to see Elliot.

Olivia dragged her weary body up the last flight of stairs to her apartment. She'd foregone the elevator, wanting the opportunity to move her body, even though she was tired after her long day. Her meeting with Bayard had left her unnerved and brooding. She wished she'd had her wits about her enough to have explained that she was with Elliot. Now she'd have to get in touch with him and let him know there was no possibility for a romantic relationship between them—he deserved to know. How she wished Elliot was home… On the other hand she'd have to explain it all to him—there was no way she'd keep it from him—but the thought of dealing with his jealousy tonight was overwhelming; So it was just as well he wasn't here. She suspected, however, she'd not be getting much sleep.

Had she not been so pre-occupied, she may have noticed Elliot's car sitting across the street when she'd come home. As it was, she was totally unprepared for the scene that greeted her when she let herself into her apartment.

The moment she opened her door she knew something was off… She reached for her gun and stepped inside, dropping her purse, and quietly closing the door. The entryway table was upside down—its contents spilled and broken—pieces strewn all around it. There was a hole in the wall just above where the table had stood. She moved further into the apartment and noted lights were on everywhere—including her bedroom. There was a half-empty bottle of bourbon on the kitchen counter—and a broken glass on the floor in front of it. What the hell…?

She slowly crept toward her bedroom, her gun drawn. She could hear drawers being pulled opened and slammed closed again. She edged closer to the bedroom door. She could just barely see inside, but caught motion out of the corner of her eye, realizing it was the reflection of someone in the floor-length mirror that was attached to her closet door… And then she gasped as she realized it was Elliot!

She holstered her gun and moved into the room. Bureau drawers were open and clothes were strewn around the room. A duffle bag lay open and half-full on the bed, and Elliot was stuffing more clothes—his clothes—into it… Clothes he'd just moved into her apartment the previous weekend. The look on his face was formidable.

Her heart in her throat, Olivia walked further into the room. "Elliot… What's going on…?" When did you get home…?"

He made a derisive sound and refused to look at her. "Does it matter…?"

"Elliot… What's wrong...? Did something happen at Quantico…?" She noticed then that his knuckles were raw and bleeding, and she stepped closer, reaching out to him.

He raised his eyes to her and gave her a look of such contempt, she felt as though she'd been punched. "Don't. Don't you dare come near me..." he spat, his voice dripping venom.

Olivia felt her knees buckle and she reached a hand out to the bureau to steady herself. Her eyes filled with tears, as the pain of his words slammed into her chest. "Elliot," she managed to gasp around the lump in her throat. "What's going on…? What did I do…?"

"Don't you stand there and play the innocent victim with me," he hissed, as he grabbed the duffle-bag from the bed and stormed from the room. As he brushed by her, she could smell booze on him, and noted his bloodshot eyes.

She followed him. "Elliot… Where are you going…? You're in no condition to drive." She was crying now, tears streaming down her face. "Please, Elliot—please… Tell me what's wrong."

Elliot dropped the bag and stalked over to her, backing her against the wall with his body. "Think about it, Olivia… What could you possibly have done that would make me punch a hole in your wall…?" He was shouting now.

She was alarmed, but she wasn't afraid… She knew he'd never hurt her. She raised her own voice, frustrated and angry that he was behaving like this and she had no idea why. "Goddammit, Elliot. Please… I don't know what you're talking about. I haven't done anything…"

"You couldn't wait one more night for me to come home, Olivia…?" Or did you just want something strange…?" he sneered.

"Oh my god… Bayard. You saw me with Bayard!"

He moved closer, his body trapping her against the wall and he pushed his face close to hers. The hurt and pain in his eyes would have dropped her to her knees if he hadn't been holding her up with his body.

"Elliot," she whispered, her voice betraying her distress. "Please, Elliot… It's not what you think."

He laughed—a horrible strangling sob—before taunting her. "Was it good, Olivia…? How do we compare…?"

"Elliot, please," she begged. "Please let me explain."

And then his hands were on her… He fisted them in her hair and pulled her head back—leaning in to punish her mouth with his own. But something in her eyes made him stop. He dropped his hands to her shoulders and looked at her, a ragged sob escaping from his chest—his eyes begging for there to be an explanation for what he'd witnessed.

Olivia's heart broke at the devastation she saw there, knowing—although innocently—she had caused it. She tentatively reached up to touch his face and he leaned into her hand. Her voice was broken. "Elliot, I love you… What you saw—it's not what you think, El. You know me better than that—you know how much I love you… How could I have made love to you the way I have in these last few weeks, and be with another man…?" She hesitated. "He kissed me…"

She felt his body tense and the look in his eyes was deadly. He tried to turn away, but she wouldn't let him… She moved her other hand up and held his face, turning it back toward her own. "I love you," she repeated. "He kissed me, Elliot. I didn't know he was going to—I was shocked—I didn't expect it… But I didn't kiss him. It couldn't have lasted 20 seconds, Elliot. I was going to tell you… I would never have kept it from you."

He knew she was telling the truth. And in knowing that, he knew how much he'd hurt her with his words and his actions—hurt them both; All the time he'd spent in therapy—all the progress he'd made—blown in a few moments of unbridled anger.

Olivia could see by his expression what he was thinking. She cradled his face in her hands. "Elliot, its okay… You reacted to what you saw: If I'd found you kissing another woman, I would have lost it, too. El, please… We have to work through this. We've come too far and worked too hard."

"How can you forgive me, Liv…?" he asked, his voice choked with raw emotion. "Look what I did to your apartment… and I was gonna leave you, baby," he admitted brokenly.

She buried her face in his chest, as a sob escaped, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight. She looked up at him, her voice barely a whisper. "I know, Elliot… And I think I would have died."

And then realization dawned: She wasn't going to hold this against him—she wasn't angry with him. This beautiful, incredible woman knew him and understood him—better than he did himself… And she still loved him: She could handle his moods and an occasional lapse in judgment—a backslidden moment… But she couldn't handle losing him.

He tentatively lowered his lips to hers… then kissed her tenderly—new appreciation for her coursing through him. "I love you so much, Olivia," he whispered, his forehead touching hers as he gazed into her eyes. "I swear to you, I will never doubt you again… No matter what I think I've seen, I'll allow you to explain it to me, before I go off the deep end. I am so sorry, baby."

"Elliot, it was my fault, too… I should have realized what was going on with Bayard—and stopped it. But I didn't expect it, El… I was just so stunned." She looked at him, her eyes pleading for him to understand.

He held her close and buried his face in her hair. "If it was anyone but you—that would be hard to believe." He gazed at her, forgiveness in his eyes. "You're clueless about this shit, Olivia." His eyes grew serious—his voice low. "But I can't stand the thought of losing you. That's why I get so jealous, Liv… You're all I ever want or need—you're a part of me now."

For the first time since stepping through her door, the ghost of a smile flitted across her face. "Take me to bed, El," she whispered. "Please—we'll take care of the mess tomorrow… I need to be in your arms tonight."

"Elliot, oh god, so close, El," she whimpered. Elliot moved over her—and in her, holding himself up with one arm, as he worked her clit with his other hand.

"Look at me, baby," he demanded—he himself so close to the edge he could barely form words. "She opened her eyes, her gaze scorching him and he felt his control slip a little more. "Jesus, baby… God, Liv—so fuckin' beautiful," he grunted, as he ploughed into her again, making her cry out—his name falling from her lips in a never-ending litany. He lowered his lips to hers, as though to catch them… And then he felt her tighten around him as she came, her body contorting, and her head thrashing… He pushed hard one more time—through the silken walls that held his cock in a vise—moving with her, not wanting to lose claim to her mouth. He absorbed her scream—and his own, as his orgasm ripped through him, and he emptied himself into her—his body shuddering with the strength of his release.

He collapsed, propping himself just enough to keep from hurting her—not wanting to relinquish her body, or give up possession of her sweet mouth. Her cries turned to whimpers, as he tenderly kissed her. He surrendered her lips, only when oxygen became necessary. He reached to caress her face and discovered her tears, as the sob she was trying to suppress tore through her—the intensity of their love-making and the emotional trauma of their evening, finally overtaking.

He gently rolled off her, pulling her into his arms. "Oh, baby… Please don't cry, Liv…"

"Elliot…?" she sobbed in a heart-broken whisper. "I love you. I don't want anyone else—please promise you won't leave me… After what we've shared these last few weeks—I wouldn't survive it, El."

"My god, baby… I want to be with you forever, Olivia. I'm so sorry about tonight… When I saw you—with him, I thought I'd lost you; I was leaving because I didn't think you wanted to be with me, Liv. I was out of my mind with grief, baby… I don't even remember how I got here."

She wrapped her arms more tightly around him, her head resting on his chest. She lay quietly for a while before raising her head to speak, her voice tremulous. "Elliot… Look at me." He silently did her bidding, focusing on her brown eyes. "I'm not going anywhere—this is where I want to be—it's where I belong… That's not gonna change. You know me, El… It took a long time for me to get here, but now that I am, I'm here—forever. Everything I've ever wanted is right here in my arms, Elliot." She laid her head back on his chest. When she spoke again, her voice was stronger. "We've got to start trusting each other with our hearts."

When he woke, the sun was streaming in the window, causing him to squint as he searched for the bedside clock. It was nearly 9:00… Shit, Olivia would have already left for work. He groaned… the cotton in his mouth and the pain in his head reminding him he'd had a little too much to drink last night—although it could have been worse; for a hangover, this one was tolerable. He lay back down, resting his arm across his eyes.

"Hey… You finally awake…?" Her voice was so soft, he wasn't really sure he'd heard her. He opened his eyes, raising himself on the backs of his elbows—a smile lighting up his face as she handed him a cup of coffee and perched on the side of the bed.

"Aren't you gonna be late for work, detective…?" he asked as he reached to gratefully take the cup she offered him, his voice still gravelly with sleep.

"I called in… I'm taking the day off."

His look of surprised delight soon turned to a lecherous grin. "In that case, come back to bed, baby," he rasped, throwing the covers back.

"Oh, no… You have work to do," she smirked, pulling the covers down further, and away from his grasp. It's time to get up, sleepyhead. You've got a trip to make to the hardware store."

He scrubbed a hand down over his face. "That really happened didn't it…?" he groaned, glancing up at her sheepishly.

"Oh yeah… That really happened—still got the hole in the wall to prove it. How's your head…?" she asked with a knowing grin.

"I'll live. My fist could use some attention though, Nurse Benson." He held it up, looking at her pathetically. She rolled her eyes and walked into the bathroom, returning a few minutes later with everything she'd need to remedy the problem. "Hey, no peroxide…! You know I hate that shit… It stings," he whined.

"Really, Stabler...?" she scoffed. "You can put your fist through my wall, but you can't handle a little peroxide…? Give me your hand," she ordered, sitting down on the bed beside him. He reluctantly extended his hand to her, and she placed a towel beneath it, as she prepared to pour the peroxide over the broken skin on his knuckles. She started to pour, and he flinched, gasping as he pulled his hand away, causing the liquid to spill onto the towel. "When did you become such a big baby...?" She reached over and grabbed his hand, turning it palm down and holding it tight as she poured again.

He hissed, and she released him, turning her attention to preparing the gauze, while he shook his hand, trying to lessen the sting. "Jesus, Benson, that fuckin' hurts… What happened to your bedside manner…?" he demanded, looking at her reproachfully.

She raised an eyebrow. "Let's see how well you repair my wall, and maybe my bedside manner will improve."

Repair to the wall proved to be an exercise in frustration: Three trips to the hardware store; a barrage of colorfully evocative foul language, worthy of any sailor; and infinite patience on Elliot's part—and the wall was good as new. He placed the last of his tools in his toolbox and set it by the door.

Olivia was standing at the sink washing the paintbrush, still muttering expletives. Elliot walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, chuckling as he buried his face in her neck. "I can't believe you kiss me with that mouth, baby… I'm having flashbacks to my days in the barracks, when I was in the marines. I gotta say, you have a filthy imagination, Benson," he growled, nipping at her neck.

"That is only unleashed when I'm forced to participate in aggravating, frustrating, mind-numbingly monotonous activities," she ground out through gritted teeth. "And for the record—I don't ever want to play 'carpenter's helper' again… So if you could refrain from punching holes in my walls…"

Elliot turned her around so fast the paint brush flew from her hand and clattered into the sink. He crashed his lips to hers, groaning into her mouth. When he pulled away, he gave her a cocky grin, and she smacked him on the shoulder. "What the hell…? I swear, Stabler—you're this close…"

He pulled her back for another scorching kiss, this time eliciting a groan from her. When their lips parted, he smirked down at her. "What can I say, Benson…? You're adorable when you're pissy… Oh—and kissing you is the most effective way to shut you up." He reached up and tapped her nose, shaking his head and grinning. "And you've got paint on your nose, baby. Adorable..."

By the time the project was completed, clean up was done, order was restored, and a co-ed shower was taken—it was time for dinner. Olivia plopped down on the couch and picked up her cell phone from the coffee table—her frame of mind much improved since the 'shower-with-benefits' she'd shared with Elliot. "I'm ordering Chinese—you want some…?"

"I'll fix us something, baby—you don't have to order out…"

She looked over at him, quirking an eyebrow. "I'm not cleaning up one more thing tonight, Stabler… But thanks for offering. Now what do you want…?"

He came over and dropped down beside her on the couch. "In that case… the usual."

She placed the order, and tossed the phone back on the table. She looked over at him and reached for his hand, a gentle smile on her face. "Thanks for fixin' my wall," she said softly. "Sorry I was so bitchy."

He grinned at her. "I can handle 'Bitchy Benson…' he quipped, giving her a knowing leer. "Besides, I put the hole in it… I should fix it."

She moved closer and snuggled into his side. "Tell me about your week, El… We haven't even talked about it yet."

A smile lit up his face, belying his enthusiasm for the subject. "It went really great, Liv… I'll need to spend even less training time than I expected. I completed a series of graded tests—both written and physical—usually given at the end of each course of curriculum. The scores determined what areas I'm weak in, or have never had any experience in at all. I'll need some brush-up in all four major concentrations… and some curriculum is new to me, so I'll need to complete them in full."

"What are they, El?"

"Let's see… For Academics, I'll only have to brush-up on 'Fundamentals of Law' and 'Ethics,' but I'll need to complete the full course in 'Advanced Intelligence Techniques.'"

Olivia leaned her head against his shoulder, and looked up at him. "That makes sense… What else?"

"Umm… In Case Exercises I've gotta complete 'Capstone…' It's basically just exercises in terrorism and intelligence-driven scenarios, using culturally diverse role players."

"That sounds interesting… This is exciting, El," she said, smiling up at him.

"I did great in the first two areas of Firearms testing… I scored 90 and 95. But I've gotta learn to use the Bureau submachine gun and the Bureau carbine."

Olivia shuddered, trying not to think of a situation where he would need to use a machine gun of any kind. Elliot pulled her closer and placed a kiss on her forehead. "I'll be okay, baby." She nodded, and he continued.

"Most of my training time will be spent in Operational Skills. There's a lot I've learned on-the-job, but the FBI is more sophisticated than the NYPD—especially electronically. I learned a fair amount when I was the liaison between the two, but there's so much more. I'll be taking a course in 'Electronic Surveillance,' and—what else?" He reached over to the coffee table and grabbed his wallet. "I've got it written down. Oh yeah, here it is: Operations Planning; Development and Dissemination of Intelligence; and Undercover Operation. Those are the weeks I'll only be home on weekends."

"Wow! In twenty weeks you'll be an FBI guy."

"Well… I don't start until a week from Monday, so, technically—twenty-one weeks.

"That means we have another week before you leave… I like that idea," she purred, nuzzling into him.

"We better take advantage of it, too… I'll be spending all my spare time studying after next week."

"That's a lot of knowledge you'll be storing away… You gonna need a 'study-buddy?'"

He smiled down at her. "You volunteering…?"

"Better me than some cute little FBI agent wanna-be," she snarked, giving him a look that left no question as to who his 'study-buddy' would be.

Before the subject could be pursued, the buzzer announced the arrival of their dinner.

In spite of the fact that Olivia had had three days off, Monday came too soon, and she still needed to broach the subject she'd been avoiding all weekend. "Hey, El…?"

"What's up, baby…?" He finished wrapping a towel around his waist, and moved up behind her, pulling her into his arms and burying his face in her neck.

She turned in his arms and he leaned in to kiss her, his minty toothpaste lingering on her lips. His skin was damp and smelled of soap, and she wished she was heading back to bed with this sexy hunk of manhood, instead of going to the precinct. She looked up at him. "El, please don't get pissed at me… I've gotta talk to Bayard today."

He immediately tensed up. Dropping his arms from around her, he turned and stalked away. "Elliot. I've got to tell him I'm already in a relationship—I'm not available. He's a good friend and he deserves to know… And I don't want to lose his friendship over this, Elliot."

He turned around, the look in his eyes anything but open-minded. "You mean to tell me this didn't come up the other night…?" he barked.

"Elliot—I told you: I was blind-sided—it happened so fast. As soon as he kissed me, he walked away… I never had a chance to tell him." She walked toward him now, fire in her eyes. "Elliot… Damn it! You either trust me or you don't. This man is my friend, and you don't get to dictate that part of my life. I'm not gonna start avoiding people and monitoring every move I make because you're a jealous asshole." She stood directly in front of him, demanding he look into her eyes. "Do you trust me?"

Elliot's face softened, and he reached for her hand. "Yeah... I trust you." He gave her a lop-sided grin. "Asshole, huh…?" She looked chagrinned and he pulled her to him. "This is just hard, baby." He wrapped his arms around her, gently swaying their bodies, looking down at her with a bit of a smirk. "This shit's gettin' old though… Next you'll be tellin' me Munch made a pass at you."

"Olivia smacked his arm and buried her face in his chest. "You're no tireder of it than I am," she sighed.

If the weekend had gone by quickly, Monday flew—a whirlwind of activity that started when Olivia hit the precinct at 7:30 in the morning and never stopped until after 8:00 that evening. It was late Tuesday afternoon before she had the opportunity to see Bayard. She'd decided to stop by his office… not wanting to do this over the telephone, or get his hopes up by making a date to see him. She knocked hesitantly on his door, dread knotting her stomach.

"Come in." He stood up as soon as he saw her and came around his desk—a smile on his face that could light up a room. "Olivia." He breathed her name like a prayer. "I was hoping you'd come." He reached to take her hand.

"Bay… I can't," she said softly. "I'm involved with someone… I tried to tell you…"

He dropped his hand and indicated Olivia should sit down, his eyes clouded with confusion.

"No, Olivia… You said you and Haden were through. I would never have approached you if I'd known you were still seeing each other…"

Olivia looked away. "It isn't David Haden, Bay." She turned back to face him. "It's… Elliot Stabler," she whispered, feeling awkward—the act of admitting their relationship to anyone so foreign to her.

"Your old partner," he stated. His voice was calm; neutral. He'd settled on the edge of his desk, and sat looking down at her. "When…?"

"He came to see me the night David ended things…"

"That was quick… Last I knew he hadn't contacted you since he'd left his position. Is this a rebound thing?"

Olivia felt like she was on the witness stand, being interrogated by Bayard Ellis. "No… Bay—nothing even close: We've been best friends for years." She lowered her eyes again, loathe to be revealing so much of her private life—but deciding he deserved to know—and he was nothing if not discreet. "There'd been an attraction between us… But he was married, and we'd always steered clear of it. It turns out he realized it was more than an attraction after he left… And he took the steps needed to pursue it. He finalized the divorce he and his wife had been dancing around for the past six years, and spent a lot of time in counseling—dealing with the fall-out of the shooting—and other stuff. He didn't want me to be a part of any of it… He was trying to protect me. I hadn't seen him or talked with him for ten months, Bayard."

"I'd say the man has impeccable timing." He gave her a smile that didn't hide the regret in his eyes. "And impeccable taste, I might add."

He stood up then, and approached her, reaching down to take her hand, helping her to her feet. He put his hands on her shoulders as he looked into her eyes. "I won't tell you this doesn't hurt, Olivia."

"I'm so sorry, Bayard." She pulled her lower lip between her teeth as she ducked her head—clearly struggling with something. "I don't know if this will make it harder or easier…" She raised her eyes to his again. "If you'd approached me before I met David—I wouldn't have said 'no,' Bay." She couldn't read his face… He wasn't a top-notch attorney for nothing.

He finally smiled into her eyes, and when he spoke his voice was husky. "I'd give that statement a fifty-fifty, Olivia. I'd like to think we can still be friends…?

"I'd like that too, Bay." She reached up and gently placed a kiss on his cheek before walking out of his office.

"Are you gonna make us wait 'til you get the 'seal of approval' from each of my kids, Liv…" 'Cause if that's what you're waitin' for, I can arrange for a family meeting." Olivia rolled her eyes and pulled further into her corner of the couch. "Look—you saw Kathleen last week—and she asked you why we waited so long. You know Maureen's on board… and Eli adores you. I know you haven't seen the twins yet… but Lizzy's more than okay with it, and so's Richard. Do they have to tell you in person…?"

"Yes. No. It's just moving so fast, El… It's barely been a month."

"Yes. It's been a month, Olivia… And in that time, how often have we been apart…? Only when I went to Quantico last week, and when I have Eli on the weekends. And we're both miserable the whole time. Next week I start my training, and I'll be gone for two to four days every week—plus the weekends—for twenty weeks… That's five months, Liv. I don't wanna be apart from you that much, baby."

"I don't either, Elliot…" she shouted, jumping up from the couch and pacing around the room. "But this is a big step for me—I haven't lived with anyone since college—not ever. What if…"

"What if what, Olivia…" Elliot was on his feet now, and the calm conversation he'd planned had clearly escalated to a shouting match. "What if we don't work…? Do you really have doubts about us?" 'Cause if you do…"

She swung around to face him, and he saw the tears on her cheeks. "No, El… I don't have any doubts about us." Her voice was a whisper now. "I love you. I know I want to be with you for the rest of my life, Elliot. It's just…"

He looked at the misery on her face, and finally understood what a big step this was for her. He pulled her into his arms. "Okay, baby… It's okay." He held her, tenderly placing kisses on her forehead. After a few minutes, he tilted her chin up so he could look into her eyes. "How 'bout we do this… Let's do it a step at a time. We'll start with you spending weekends at my place—okay…?"

"Yeah… That I can do—without any further approval from your kids," she smiled tearfully up at him.

"Thank you, baby… I don't think I could have stood to be apart from you this weekend, and leave for Quantico on Monday."

"Yeah, me either…" she admitted, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head against his chest.

"And then, even after you move in, you keep your apartment—until you're completely comfortable with the arrangement. And when you're ready—you give it up—and we'll look for a place together." She didn't say anything. "Liv…? What do you say? That okay with you, baby…?"

"Yeah… That sounds good, El." She looked up at him, giving a tentative smile. "We're really gonna do this, aren't we…? We're really moving forward."

"Yeah, baby… We are." He bent his head to capture her lips, kissing her sweetly.

She pulled away before things got out of hand. "I'll go pack."

"Hey—you know it's only Friday night… right?"

"Yeah, I know that… But I'd rather break your bed in without Eli there." Leaning back in she left a blistering kiss on his lips. Then she pulled away and gave a sexy wink, before sauntering into her bedroom to pack.

The End (for now)

Thank you for reading!