DISCLAIMER: Law & Order: Special Victims Unit and all characters are property of NBC and Dick Wolf.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Borne from a drabble challenge on LiveJournal, it was just far too hot not to give it the full treatment. I'm still a little nervous about posting this in all its incredible naughtiness. But despite the fact I just may be thrown out for this, I had to share it ;) Conscience, be damned.
This also has no relation to any of the other fic I have or will post. It's in its own little twisted universe.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

By Nic

Elliot awoke with a start, a few files sliding from his chest to the floor. He squinted as he waited for consciousness to set in and remind him where exactly he was. Oh right. The crib. The day had lasted inexplicably long with lost evidence, found evidence, runaround from witnesses, and phone calls to fellow precincts that went unanswered. Elliot was determined to crack this case and had decided to take refuge on the second level in the squad room once most of his co-workers had left to go over witness and interrogation reports.

He groaned, swinging his legs to the floor. Piling the reports haphazardly on the couch next to him, Elliot rubbed his eyes and looked at his watch. One in the morning. He must have been sleeping for a while. Picking his cell phone out of his pocket, Elliot made a brief phone call to his wife, letting her know he'd be on his way.

"Man," he whispered to himself. "Been a while since this happened."

Pushing himself from the couch, Elliot grabbed the stack of files and headed slowly down the stairs into the squad room. It was always surreal to be there when there weren't many people around. The place was so quiet. He paused at the bottom of the stairs and surveyed the still life in front of him. It was nice like this.

Elliot sighed and made his way to his desk. He reached to pick up his jacket, but realized that he had left it in his car on the way back from some canvassing. He glanced around his desk, looking for any signs of something he should be taking home, but couldn't find any. Looking down at the reports in his hand, he decided that maybe it would be good if he could look them over in the morning.

It must have been a freak accident that Elliot happened to look toward the small meeting room next to the Captain's office. The blinds had been drawn. Rule number one when being a detective is to trust your instincts. Another is noticing when there are things out of place, or things that don't belong.

That was what made Elliot frown and look a little closer at open door of the observation room. He thought he had seen a shadow and was about to convince himself he was still half asleep before he saw it again. Frowning, Elliot looked around and walked up to the open door of the observation room. He stuck his head in and looked around, noticing nothing out of the ordinary.

The meeting room, however.

"Holy shit."

Elliot felt his heart leap into his throat as he looked through the one-way glass. Surely he was seeing things. Surely that wasn't Alex Cabot sitting on the edge of the old wooden table in the centre of the room. That couldn't be his partner standing snugly between the counselor's legs. And the fact that their lips were pretty much fused together had to be the product of his impromptu siesta.

He rubbed his eyes and blinked a few times.

Nope, still there.

Elliot looked behind him as if suddenly someone would have snuck up on him before he slipped into the observation room and closed the door, but didn't latch it. He wondered absently why he didn't slam it - they would have heard, they would have stopped, there might have been a little awkwardness, but everything would be fine, right?

He couldn't deny the sight was something to behold. Their mouths fought with incredible ferocity. It made him wonder when the last time he kissed his wife like that was. Alex's hands pushed into Olivia's hair, causing a few strands to stand on end. Olivia's hands had slipped under Alex's blouse which was quite obviously undone along with her suit jacket and held her impossibly close. If he squinted, he could see the tiniest fraction of her skin above the waist of her skirt. And he did squint. He had to, it was almost an obligation.

Sitting down might have been a good idea, but his feet wouldn't cooperate. He was cemented into place, even if he had wanted to move, it wasn't happening. He was aware of Olivia's sexual proclivities; there was a time when they had discussed it in general before he got the nerve to ask her. After all, that was a pretty big thing not to know about your partner. The big surprise of this encounter was Alex. Elliot would never have guessed. Not in a million years.

Elliot's heart made another appearance in his throat as he saw Olivia pull away. He reached for the door knob, ready to bolt like a kid caught going through his sister's diary, but she didn't go for the door. She didn't move very far at all, actually. It was the knowing smile she gave the ADA that made Elliot frown in confusion. It was the series of kisses that she trailed down the counselor's chest and stomach ever-so-slowly that made Elliot take a step forward.

"She is not," he said to no one. He looked back and forth within the observation room, not really wanting to intrude, but finding the curiosity too much to resist. "She is not," he repeated.

He watched Olivia get to her knees and ran a hand over his face. He paced a few steps, suddenly feeling the heat and stopped. He turned to the glass again to see his partner's fingers gently pushing Alex's skirt up her thighs and noticed that Olivia's eyes never left the counselor's. Elliot's hand found his face again, covering his mouth and pulling his jaw open as Alex shifted and lifted her leg, letting her heels drop to the floor. All the air in his lungs expelled out his mouth when Alex placed her foot gently on his partner's shoulder, opening herself to Olivia.

"Oh my god," he breathed. He couldn't see anything and he could see everything. It was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. The temperature, the scene before him, and the pants he wore. Elliot shifted, feeling the guilt begin to well up again. "I can't," he said, holding up his hands. He turned around and walked back to the door and placed his hand on the doorknob. For some inexplicable reason, he stopped. He couldn't open the door. No matter how hard he tried to make himself, or how much he knew that was the right thing to do, he just couldn't do it.

He looked up, his peripheral vision picking up the scene through the glass beside him that made him suck in a quick breath. Looking past his shoulder, Elliot was compelled to turn back around. It had to be one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen.

Alex gripped the edges of the old wooden table and leaned back slightly. Her head had fallen back, her throat exposed and her blonde hair hanging behind her like a sheer curtain. Her position allowed Elliot an unabashed view of her breasts, clothed in white cotton, and her stunningly flat stomach. His eyes continued to travel and he felt himself twitch at the sight of his partner between Alex's legs. Her head moved rhythmically and it didn't take a whole lot of thought to figure out what exactly she was doing. Her left hand held Alex's skirt up just enough for accessibility while her right trailed up and down the leg that rested on her shoulder in one long continuous stroke.

He wasn't sure exactly how or when it happened, but Elliot found himself within a few steps of the one-way glass. He watched the scene play out before him, transfixed. His eyes darted from Alex to Olivia and back to Alex again before skipping over his partner and falling on the small white box beside the mirror. He looked back at the women, then again at the white box, its mesh speaker and the small black button underneath it.

Elliot glanced back at the ADA, watching the urgency in her body language increase. The moral war that suddenly raged inside him was surprising. He never would have thought the opportunity to watch such an intimate act would ever be forthcoming, never mind the chance to hear it. Elliot's eyes never left the blonde on the table as his arm lifted. His fingers felt around the intercom box until they came to rest on the button. This is it, man, he thought. Push it, or don't. On one hand, this was one of the most incredible things he'd ever had the chance to witness. It was better than any video he'd ever rented, better than any magazine he may have picked up at a friend's house. Beside the fact that it was live action playing out right in front him, it was real. It was intimate. It wasn't actors finding their best side, or staring at the camera. This was pure, unadulterated voyeurism.

On the other hand, however, after this he was going to have to face these women on a daily basis. Despite the fact they were both beautiful, one of them happened to be his partner of nearly seven years. There really was no other reason, but man, was it a big one. They'd been through everything, they'd helped each other out when they needed it most. Olivia was someone Elliot could talk to when he couldn't go to his wife. It was beyond friendship, but nothing like siblings. They were partners. There was no other way to describe it.

Elliot swallowed hard as he watched Alex stiffen for a split second before her head fell back again, her jaw slack, letting wave after wave of orgasm wash over her. Her hand tangled in Olivia's hair, her hips lifting slightly. Elliot's arm fell loosely by his side as he exhaled. He watched Olivia lower Alex's leg and get to her feet. She wrapped her arms around the counselor and held her close, running her fingers through her hair.

A smile played at Elliot's lips and he turned, exiting the observation room. He stopped near the squad room door and looked back. He couldn't do it. He couldn't intrude that far. He'd already seen far more than he should have. The decision of whether or not to tell Olivia surfaced immediately, but he probably wouldn't mention it. Most likely, it would only succeed in making things awkward for as long as they worked together.

Elliot grimaced slightly as he adjusted himself in his pants before looking at his watch. One-thirty. As he walked down the hall to the elevators, he wondered absently if his wife would still be awake; if she would mind being woken up. He was never all that cocky about his sex life, but for some reason, he thought tonight it'd be worth losing a little sleep over.

The End

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