Chapter Text
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“By the power vested in me by the state of Nevada…”
The words echoed inside Olivia’s head until it forced her awake, the hammering pain bolting in her head. She hasn’t opened her eyes yet, but the weight of someone’s limb spread across her stomach was enough indication that she wasn’t alone in bed.
“My hotel room, Stabler…”
The sudden thunder of consciousness flooded her head with fragments of last night’s events, each one coming in movie flashback-like monochromatic frames, jolting her awake from her long REM state.
Remnants of the previous night’s intoxication in her system made it impossible to open her eyes without the side of her head throbbing in pain. Even the slightest movement of her body caused grueling pain that made her groan involuntarily.
As she turned to the side with eyes half open, she instantly recognized the figure sleeping next to her. A figure she can identify despite the darkness of the room, a figure she can name in a crowd filled with people. It was a no brainer for Olivia Benson.
“I now pronounce you, husband and wife.”
“Holy shit!” She stumbled awake, falling off the side of the bed, creating a loud thud that effortlessly woke Elliot up from his deep sleep.
Olivia felt the effects of her age when her back felt like it broke after falling off the mattress, the pain dominating the headache that she currently has.
Elliot immediately turned on a lamp, softly illuminating the room, and he swiftly jumped off the bed to help Olivia, concern etched all over his face when he saw her wincing in pain.
“What happened? Why’d you fall off?” Elliot asked as he gently lifted her upper body off the ground and repositioned her, using his body as her cushion off the ground.
“It hurts,” she complained, completely ignoring his questions as her hand reached to her side to massage her hips.
Elliot, after observing her for a few, realized that laying on the cold, hard floors would do her no good. “Hold your breath,” he instructed.
“Hold my wha–” her words were abruptly cut, followed by a tiny squeal caught in her throat when Elliot picked her up, placing her on the softness of the bed.
The plushness of the queen-sized bed somehow eased the pain on her back, especially when Elliot pulled his pillow off his side of the bed and stacked it on top of Olivia’s, letting her rest against them.
“Are you okay?” he asked as he gently tapped her leg.
He knows he shouldn’t be laughing after Olivia fell and nearly broke her back from the height of the bed, but he couldn’t help snickering at the situation. They haven’t been in this close proximity for years, and now that they’ve finally had a moment all to themselves, the first thing that happened was a disaster. Ironic for a couple of officers.
“You seriously found that funny, Stabler?” she arched an eyebrow, her arm shoving him but his strong build didn’t even budge.
He snorted despite trying to compose himself. “I’m sorry– it’s not funny.”
Olivia shook her head, her eyes rolling at the humor of the moment. The amusement on her face was soon replaced with shock and anxiety, a combination which people rarely physically see from Captain Olivia Benson, when she braced herself around her mid section and instantly felt goosebumps when the texture of her top felt…unfamiliar.
Despite being drunk the previous night, she was deadass sure that she’s wearing a satin long sleeve polo, not cotton, and most definitely not an oversized one.
She slowly looked down, the obvious white color of the top startling her more than it should.
The top wasn’t hers but she knew whom it belonged to, and the thought made her body heat up instantly. A mix of embarrassment, shame, and defenselessness creeped in, causing her chest to rise and fall in heavy breaths.
“Did– did something–”
Olivia’s wide vocabulary seemed to flutter away as she found it hard to word out the thoughts in her head, the thoughts she badly wanted to blurt out.
“Why am I wearing your shirt?”
Her composure on the outside seemed perfectly normal, but her insides were swirling with extreme emotions. Elliot chuckled in response, not helping ease Olivia’s uncertainties about what took place last night…in her hotel room.
“You can’t remember?” he asked with a teasing smile, painting a flushed red color on Olivia’s cheeks.
She could hear her heart beating loud and wild, it might as well just jump out of her chest. “What do I need to remember?”
It wouldn’t be a problem with her if something intimate happened between them, but she would at least want to know. And given their history, if such a thing did happen, she would want to be sober to remember it.
“You threw up last night and I’m just as intoxicated as you, so looking for the clothes you packed would be a lost cause for me, so I gave you my shirt–”
Olivia ran her fingers through the top of her hair. “You undressed me?” her tone was at least two levels higher than her usual.
“Just to dress you! I swear on my life, nothing happened and I wouldn’t allow myself to do that.”
She took a good look at him, her eyes narrowed. The sincerity in his eyes proved the truth, and even without it, Olivia knows that her old partner would never do such a thing, especially to her. She could trust him with anything and everything.
But a part of her wished that something happened. That between the sobriety and the intoxication, something transpired between them so she wouldn’t have to deal with contradicting thoughts in her head of whether she wants it with him or not.
“I’m sorry, I’m just–” she buried her face in her palms. “My head is all over the place.”
Elliot held her by the wrists and carefully pulled her hands away from her face, revealing the view that he could never grow tired of seeing.
“You need coffee.” He held her hands tight as he got up from the bed, pulling her up, as well. “Come on.”
Olivia couldn’t keep her balance so Elliot wrapped an arm across her back, securing it with a hand on her shoulder, pulling her closer to his side as they walked out of the room.
Elliot’s shirt was engulfing Olivia’s body, it made her look so small in it. Despite the debate earlier about it, she admittedly, but secretly enjoys wearing a piece of his clothing, especially when his scent seeps into her system.
He pulled a chair for her from the small dining table and assisted her to sit before making his way to the kitchenette to get them started with coffee.
At the edge of the round, wooden dining table was an envelope which caught Olivia’s attention. She stretched an arm to reach for it, thinking that it was left by the hotel when she checked in, probably a welcome letter.
She lazily opened the envelope while watching Elliot expertly move across the kitchenette. As she set her eyes to the paper that was inside the envelope, her jaw dropped to the floor, her eyes almost bulged out of their sockets, and she was sure her heart skipped a few beats, enough to knock her unconscious.
“Son of a bitch!”
Elliot immediately turned his head to her direction, alert and alarmed. “What?”
Olivia’s eyes scanned through the whole document, reading each and every word like they were ancient codes that she’s carefully deciphering in her head. Her eyes raced through the words like she was in a speed reading competition.
“What?” Elliot echoed his question with a much alarmed tone, already making his way to her.
After reading the document repeatedly, Olivia instantly remembered the reason why she rolled over and fell off the bed this morning. The words that repeated in her sleep, in her blank dreams last night.
She jumped when she felt Elliot’s presence beside her. It was obvious that the paper she’s holding had her mind preoccupied to even notice Elliot’s movements around her.
“State of Nevada Marriage Certificate…” Olivia almost choked on her own words as she read the heading on the document out loud. Her face drained of blood when she saw their names on the purposely blanked out areas of the paper.
“Elliot Stabler and Olivia Margaret Benson with their mutual consent….” Elliot muttered the rest in silence.
Olivia let go of the paper, trusting Elliot held the other side of it. Just when she thought the hangover couldn’t get any better, she wakes up and falls off the bed with a potential back fracture, and now, she finds a legal document saying that she got married to Elliot Stabler.
Elliot freaking Stabler.
Her old partner. Her partner in crime. The man who could piss her off, but she’d find herself wanting to spend her time with no one else but him. The man who broke her by leaving years ago, leaving her hanging on to nothing.
The realization is slowly sinking in. She got married to the man she has spent years loving in secret, in stolen glances, in morning coffees, in late night talks, in undercover missions as husband and wife, in hostage situations, in squadroom catfights.
It was only then, that the cold metal on her left ring finger made itself known. Olivia looked at it, the gold ring shining blindly against the rays of the sun that streaked through the window behind her.
“We’re actually married…holy shit!” she said as her other hand flew to cover her mouth to prevent any other sinful words from escaping.
Recalling the events wasn’t hard, but understanding what pushed them to do it was the challenge. Everyone knows how logical Captain Olivia Benson speaks, thinks…acts. She doesn’t move based on impulses. And so does Elliot. They were always praised for their wit and intelligence, and somehow, those two traits seemed to have taken a leave of absence when it was time to evaluate their decisions last night.
Elliot put the document down, on top of the envelope, then went back to the kitchenette like it was no surprise to him at all.
Olivia noticed his composed demeanor, making her forehead crease in confusion. “How are you so calm about this?”
“Coffee first,” Elliot replied, further annoying Olivia.
But he was right. She’s hungover. The effects of the alcohol are just wearing off, causing her to be irritable and annoyed.
“I need to calm down,” she muttered underneath her breath as she tried convincing herself that it wasn’t that bad.
When they got invited by a dear old friend in the NYPD for a destination wedding, she didn’t necessarily predict that she’d be getting married herself. The only agenda that she had for the entire weekend is to attend a wedding, unwind, and go home.
Before her thoughts could consume her, the aroma of the coffee permeating around the entire suite subtly turned her mind off for a second. She shut her eyes, letting her system run on the smell of coffee as its fuel.
As her eyes fluttered open, a coffee served in a white hotel room mug, with smoke rising to the top, greeted her. Olivia thought Elliot would sit across from her, but he pulled the other chair next to her, with only a few meters of space between them.
Silence reigned for a moment. Olivia could feel a bubble of tension wrapping around her, preventing her from making any noise or drawing attention to herself.
She secretly watched out of the corner of her eye how smoothly Elliot moved next to her. Taking big sips from the mug, then leaning back against the chair, letting his pretty mind wander somewhere far.
As she took another sip, her eyes shifted down to his biceps, being trapped inside the sleeves of his henley shirt. She knew since the first day they worked together that he’s a well-built man, but after years of knowing each other, he’s still becoming more fine every time she sees him.
Like a bottle of wine tasting better with age.
Her thoughts had finally wandered off somewhere they shouldn’t have so she hung her head low, mentally punishing herself by forcing her eyes to focus on the mug.
A few sips of coffee in and she finally had the courage to talk again.
“Can we talk about it?” she spoke, her tone still laced with uncertainty.
Elliot turned to her, a soft smile tugging on his lips. “Hangover gone?” he asked.
Olivia traced the brim of her mug as she shook her head. She could still feel a slight pang around her head, as if the headache’s dancing in circles around it.
Her breath hitched in her throat when Elliot’s hand softly landed on her back, rubbing it in a vertical motion. “Let’s put off the talk until we’re both out of this hellish headache, alright? Wanna grab breakfast downstairs?”
Suddenly, breakfast doesn’t sound so bad. Her stomach grumbled at the thought of it.
“I’ll take a shower first,” she answered, followed by a tight-lip smile.
Elliot nodded his head in agreement, backing away to his own space.
Once she finished her coffee, she excused herself back to the room to freshen up for the day. It was only 7 in the morning and they still have a whole day ahead of them.
A whole day of figuring everything out.
Upon entering the bathroom, she closed the door behind her and leaned against it, clutching the cuffs of Elliot’s shirt and bringing it up to her nose, sniffing the remnants of his scent.
She closed her eyes, a tiny, giddy smile slowly curving on her lips as she let his essence seep into her system.
While Elliot’s waiting for her to finish getting ready, she’s inside the bathroom, leaning against the door like some teenage girl smelling a jacket her crush lent to her after a cold school day.
“You’re insane…” she muttered to herself as she forced herself forward, towards the vanity where she placed the towel and her clothes for later.
Olivia stood in front of the vanity mirror and once she started unbuttoning Elliot’s shirt off her body, mental images of him taking off his shirt and draping it around her flooded her brain.
The last time Elliot Stabler saw her without a shirt was during a sudden undercover moment, which was more than a decade ago. And the recent one being last night sent shivers down her spine and caused her cheeks to blush.
After the shameful trip down memory lane in front of the vanity mirror, she stepped into the shower and took her time after remembering the puking incident last night, making sure she washed off all remnants of it.
“I dare you two to get married at a chapel tonight!”
A sudden flashback made Olivia open her eyes despite the stinging pain of the dripping shampoo bubbles
She was slowly putting the puzzle pieces together on her own, and some of the memories are beginning to unlock by themselves.
But for the sake of her sanity, she decided to throw that flashback far off into the back of her mind, complying with Elliot’s suggestion to set it aside until their headaches and hangovers have subsided.
As she stepped out of the shower, her occupying thoughts seemed to dissipate along with the steam.
She made her way back to the vanity where after drying herself, she got in a wide, flowy white skirt, something she found at the back of her closet at home, basically collecting dust, and a scoop neck top. Drying her medium length hair took a while and she could already feel the anxiety of someone patiently waiting for her outside.
Especially because that someone is none other than Elliot Stabler.
Once the hairdryer had done its job, she put her hair up in a French bun, with a few strands dangling on the sides, framing her face.
Opening the door flashed the stark contrast of the dimness of the bathroom and the brightness of the room after the curtains were drawn open, which she suspected was Elliot’s doing, making her eyes flinch.
And there he was, sitting on his side of the bed that morning, his back facing her. His back was slouched, a posture she recognized to be something he does when he’s texting on the phone.
He heard the bathroom door click open and Olivia’s footsteps along with it, but decided to delay his reaction.
“You ready to go?” he asked, his focus still on his phone.
He had just finished texting with Kathleen, informing her that he’s about to have breakfast with Olivia. She’s been cheering on her father from the moment she found out that they’re going to a destination wedding in Vegas.
And Elliot could only imagine the look on his daughter’s face once she finds out that Olivia and her Dad got married. Happiness and jumping excitedly would be an understatement to what she could possibly do.
After slipping his phone in his pocket, he stood up and turned around, met with view of the woman he admires. He tried to suppress a smile but it ended up being a wider grin as he gazed at her entirety. “You’re beautiful,” he mumbled out of nowhere, even he, himself, was surprised.
She was a sight to behold, a beauty beyond compare, and he couldn’t help but drown in it with a smile.
Olivia, deeply flattered by the comment, decided to keep her reaction to herself and instead, played it cool by rolling her eyes playfully. “Oh hush. Let’s go.” She walked ahead, unbeknownst to him it was a tactic to hide the smile on her face.
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There were only a few people dining in the restaurant. Clearly, Vegas is a night city. People have probably just gone to bed after a night of partying.
Elliot, who's sporting khaki shorts and a basic v-neck tee, showing off just a bit of chest skin, is walking right beside her like a protective detail, making her breathing uneven. She knows the effect he has on her, and it didn’t make the close proximity any easier. Moving feels too much and taking a breath feels like such an impossible challenge.
“Here’s good.” Olivia pointed to a corner table which was separated from the vastness of the restaurant.
“Alright. Let’s get back here after getting our food,” he proposed as they parted ways.
Olivia finally let out the breath that she was holding when she finally got to the buffet area. She was so distraught, she couldn't even think about what she wanted to eat despite being hungry all morning.
She had to shake off the thought of Elliot Stabler in beach-type shorts and a v-neck top just to be able to decide what she wanted for breakfast.
If she abandoned all rational thoughts, she would’ve had him for breakfast.
In the end, she settled for a made to order omelet, a donut and yogurt. It didn’t take that long to find their self-designated table because she didn’t wander too far off it. She placed her breakfast plate on the table and slipped into the cushion chair.
As luck would have it, Elliot had also finished selecting his food which was a lot more than what she had on her plate. He sat across from her, feeling the tension brewing between them that morning so he decided to put a little distance between them, just in case Olivia wasn’t comfortable with him hovering around her like a butterfly to a sweet flower.
“That all you’re gonna eat?” he asked, eyeing the sadness of her plate.
“I can get more after,” she replied while getting started on the freshly made omelet.
Olivia was so focused on her plate as if the donut and the omelette were going to grow legs and run if she diverted her attention even for a split second, while Elliot stole glances of her from time to time. She felt it, but refused to acknowledge it. The more she admits that his presence affects her, the more it is truly going to affect her.
“It was a dare,” Elliot suddenly spoke with a half chewed turkey sandwich in his cheek, prompting Olivia to tip her head up to meet his face. Her chocolate brown eyes locking with his light blues.
“I remember,” she confirmed nonchalantly, the memories becoming less of a movie flashback and more of a concrete memory. “That dang stranger–”
A chuckle escaped from Elliot’s ketchup-glazed lips as he remembered the competitive glint in Olivia’s eyes that night.
How she practically pulled him out of the bar in search of a chapel.