Pieces - maulita
Title: Pieces
Author: giantessmess
Show: Law and Order: SVU
Pairing: Maulita, otherwise known as Olivia/Maureen
Rating: PG-13
Words: 1,389
Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine.
A/N: A present for projectjulie (Yeah, this one’s a bit of a cop-out, sorry Julie.). I thought I’d attempt to explore the aftermath of this pairing. (And I can write non-twisted stuff. I swear).
If either of them held onto grudges, they wouldn’t be sitting like this on the curb, Olivia biting her lip in that infuriatingly juvenile way, her hands in her lap, her eyes on the ground.
He was always waiting for her, being patient with her. Being understanding. Friendly, but not friends.
Certain topics were forever off-limits. Like Alex. Like his problems with Kathy. It was a kind of game that gave them the chance to know when either of them needed space. They wouldn’t have lasted that long as partners, if they hadn’t figured this one out early on.
“So that’s it, Olivia?” he breathed through his teeth. “You’re just going to sit here, and not say a goddamn thing?” He had to remind himself that he didn’t hit women. Even this one.
“Elliot…I…”
He wasn’t a violent man. Well, maybe if a suspect pushed his buttons. Was Olivia like a suspect, now? He hated, (but also somehow relished) the way the bruise shone on her cheekbone, still dark purple. The way her lip had that swollen blush, from where he’d broken it.
“Elliot,” her voice was hoarse, “Look, I don’t know…I can’t….” She gritted her teeth.
How could she have the audacity to sound pissed off? He could see the irritation building inside her when she looked at him, as if she didn’t think she ever needed to explain herself.
“Jesus.” He didn’t trust himself to keep things clean. “You’ve got a fucked up way of dealing with things, you know that?”
She glared at him. “I know, I…”
He stared her down. “I wanna kick the shit out of you, Olivia. So help me God.”
She nodded silently. He could tell her hand itched to touch the bruise on her face. But out of pride, she wouldn’t mention it.
She spoke quietly. “Yeah, I bet you do.”
“You disgust me,” he spat.
She gave him a slightly bitter look, before silently nodding again, taking whatever he decided to dish out. He stood up over her.
“Jesus, Liv. Can’t you think of anything to say?”
She didn’t quite sneer. “What do you want me to say? Look, what the hell can I say?”
“Anything. Damnnit, tell me I went off at you for no good reason. That she’s lying, tell me it’s a joke.”
Olivia swallowed. “You know she isn’t lying, Elliot. She’s your daughter.”
Elliot suddenly wanted to hit her again. “She’s my daughter.” He said the words coldly, noticing the effect they had on his partner’s posture. He leant over her, but immediately turned away, unable to stand the sight of her. “She’s my goddamn daughter, Olivia.”
“I know.”
When Maureen had come to him, crying her eyes out, he’d almost fractured his hand, from the force of hitting the table. Now, he was surprised that he’d managed to keep himself in check for this long into the conversation. Maybe it was Olivia’s silence. Maybe it was because she wasn’t meeting his eyes. If she’d begged him for forgiveness, if she’d cried and told him it was because her mommy didn’t want her, because life was just so hard, he mightn’t have been able to control himself. There’s a time in a person’s life where the fucked-up things they did amounted to their own mistakes, rather than those of their parents.
God. He was a terrible father, wasn’t he? He should have seen it a mile away. Maureen was in college, now. Was she too old to send to her room? Was there something he should be doing for her? Was there anything that could fix this?
Olivia cleared her throat, but she seemed to think the better of it when she met his eyes.
“You have no right, Olivia,” he hissed.
Olivia was shaking her head. “She isn’t a child anymore.”
“Jesus Christ,” he snapped. “She’s my child.”
“Did you talk to her?”
“What do you think?” He stared at her for a second, before kicking at a scrap of rubbish on the roadside. “She isn’t speaking to me, now.”
After he’d yelled at Maureen, after he’d threatened her - You think you can do this crap, while you’re living under this roof? Jesus Christ.
Daddy I’m sorry, I’m sorry.
His daughter’s voice shook as the words spilled from her. How Olivia told her once was enough, then twice was enough.
She cries in her sleep, Daddy. Did you know her and Miss Cabot were together?
He’d cringed. Oh, Jesus. That’s enough.
And Maureen’s face scrunched up as she cried, curling up into herself, like she had this great pain inside of her. She was whimpering, like she had when she’d fallen off her bike as a kid.
Why doesn’t she want me? Why doesn’t Olivia want me?
Now she didn’t trust her father with any of her secrets, because he’d reacted so badly to this one. Olivia deserved his anger. Maureen didn’t.
“It was a mistake,” Olivia was saying, so quietly that he could barely make it out. “It was a big, stupid, drunken mistake. My mistake.”
Elliot couldn’t believe this. “Olivia….I didn’t know she was a….” And he didn’t want to be talking about this. Not with the woman who’d done those things to his daughter. The woman who caused those tiny red marks, that leered up from his daughter’s neck.
He didn’t want Olivia to be sitting there, waiting, half-expecting him to hurt her, silently deciding she deserved it. He didn’t want Maureen heartbroken over his partner.
He clenched his jaw, and decided it was best if he didn’t look at Olivia when he asked the next question.
“Is she…ok? I mean...” he struggled, feeling his anger build. “If you weren’t careful, Olivia, I swear to God….”
He pictured her as this thing now. This horrible, infectious thing that kissed his daughter, touched his daughter.
“I wouldn’t hurt her,” Olivia said, then she let out a bitter laugh. “Elliot, I’m sorry.” She sounded irritated, more than anything else. “I can’t believe this.”
He had to see her face to make sure she was crying. No, she was barely doing that. Olivia’s expression strained with the effort of containing it. He waited for it; for her to make the usual excuses. A slight nod of the head, as she’d speak about another small incident involving her mother. Another shrug, as she dropped the bomb of her horrendous conception.
He didn’t want her to bother. “Listen, Olivia.” But she shook her head. Her voice came out in a choke.
“Jesus. I can’t believe it’s come to this.” She closed her eyes and exhaled. “I’m surprised you haven’t slugged me one again.”
Elliot told himself he wouldn’t be affected by this, he tried not to care that she was shaking her head, looking away at the traffic. “Olivia, don’t think I don’t want to,” but affection colored his tone, unintentionally.
A laugh escaped her, but she was cringing. “She’d never want me now. Look at this shit. Look at the state of my life, without her.”
It took Elliot a second to realize she was talking about Alex Cabot. It was always about Alex, wasn’t it? Even when he hated his partner, he felt the twinge of sympathy that came from knowing details he was never allowed to discuss with her.
“She’ll be back, Liv.” Then he clarified, to be sure. “Alex…You know, she’s gonna come back.”
But Olivia didn’t respond. She was getting to her feet, sliding her hands into her pockets. Whenever she stopped herself from crying, she tended to look like she was furious at everything around her, she was biting her lip.
“Come on,” he swallowed his anger for the moment, and took hold of her arm. “You’re gonna become a narcoleptic if you don’t sleep, once in a while.”
It was more of an acknowledgement of his attempt at a joke, than a genuine laugh that escaped her.
She allowed him to lead her down the street. He hated how she did this; how she managed to gain sympathy out of him, even when he still despised her so much. He hated her willingness to just fall to pieces, and drag everyone under with her.
But most of all, he hated that this incident was going to become another one of those things they were never allowed to talk about.
Author: giantessmess
Show: Law and Order: SVU
Pairing: Maulita, otherwise known as Olivia/Maureen
Rating: PG-13
Words: 1,389
Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine.
A/N: A present for projectjulie (Yeah, this one’s a bit of a cop-out, sorry Julie.). I thought I’d attempt to explore the aftermath of this pairing. (And I can write non-twisted stuff. I swear).
If either of them held onto grudges, they wouldn’t be sitting like this on the curb, Olivia biting her lip in that infuriatingly juvenile way, her hands in her lap, her eyes on the ground.
He was always waiting for her, being patient with her. Being understanding. Friendly, but not friends.
Certain topics were forever off-limits. Like Alex. Like his problems with Kathy. It was a kind of game that gave them the chance to know when either of them needed space. They wouldn’t have lasted that long as partners, if they hadn’t figured this one out early on.
“So that’s it, Olivia?” he breathed through his teeth. “You’re just going to sit here, and not say a goddamn thing?” He had to remind himself that he didn’t hit women. Even this one.
“Elliot…I…”
He wasn’t a violent man. Well, maybe if a suspect pushed his buttons. Was Olivia like a suspect, now? He hated, (but also somehow relished) the way the bruise shone on her cheekbone, still dark purple. The way her lip had that swollen blush, from where he’d broken it.
“Elliot,” her voice was hoarse, “Look, I don’t know…I can’t….” She gritted her teeth.
How could she have the audacity to sound pissed off? He could see the irritation building inside her when she looked at him, as if she didn’t think she ever needed to explain herself.
“Jesus.” He didn’t trust himself to keep things clean. “You’ve got a fucked up way of dealing with things, you know that?”
She glared at him. “I know, I…”
He stared her down. “I wanna kick the shit out of you, Olivia. So help me God.”
She nodded silently. He could tell her hand itched to touch the bruise on her face. But out of pride, she wouldn’t mention it.
She spoke quietly. “Yeah, I bet you do.”
“You disgust me,” he spat.
She gave him a slightly bitter look, before silently nodding again, taking whatever he decided to dish out. He stood up over her.
“Jesus, Liv. Can’t you think of anything to say?”
She didn’t quite sneer. “What do you want me to say? Look, what the hell can I say?”
“Anything. Damnnit, tell me I went off at you for no good reason. That she’s lying, tell me it’s a joke.”
Olivia swallowed. “You know she isn’t lying, Elliot. She’s your daughter.”
Elliot suddenly wanted to hit her again. “She’s my daughter.” He said the words coldly, noticing the effect they had on his partner’s posture. He leant over her, but immediately turned away, unable to stand the sight of her. “She’s my goddamn daughter, Olivia.”
“I know.”
When Maureen had come to him, crying her eyes out, he’d almost fractured his hand, from the force of hitting the table. Now, he was surprised that he’d managed to keep himself in check for this long into the conversation. Maybe it was Olivia’s silence. Maybe it was because she wasn’t meeting his eyes. If she’d begged him for forgiveness, if she’d cried and told him it was because her mommy didn’t want her, because life was just so hard, he mightn’t have been able to control himself. There’s a time in a person’s life where the fucked-up things they did amounted to their own mistakes, rather than those of their parents.
God. He was a terrible father, wasn’t he? He should have seen it a mile away. Maureen was in college, now. Was she too old to send to her room? Was there something he should be doing for her? Was there anything that could fix this?
Olivia cleared her throat, but she seemed to think the better of it when she met his eyes.
“You have no right, Olivia,” he hissed.
Olivia was shaking her head. “She isn’t a child anymore.”
“Jesus Christ,” he snapped. “She’s my child.”
“Did you talk to her?”
“What do you think?” He stared at her for a second, before kicking at a scrap of rubbish on the roadside. “She isn’t speaking to me, now.”
After he’d yelled at Maureen, after he’d threatened her - You think you can do this crap, while you’re living under this roof? Jesus Christ.
Daddy I’m sorry, I’m sorry.
His daughter’s voice shook as the words spilled from her. How Olivia told her once was enough, then twice was enough.
She cries in her sleep, Daddy. Did you know her and Miss Cabot were together?
He’d cringed. Oh, Jesus. That’s enough.
And Maureen’s face scrunched up as she cried, curling up into herself, like she had this great pain inside of her. She was whimpering, like she had when she’d fallen off her bike as a kid.
Why doesn’t she want me? Why doesn’t Olivia want me?
Now she didn’t trust her father with any of her secrets, because he’d reacted so badly to this one. Olivia deserved his anger. Maureen didn’t.
“It was a mistake,” Olivia was saying, so quietly that he could barely make it out. “It was a big, stupid, drunken mistake. My mistake.”
Elliot couldn’t believe this. “Olivia….I didn’t know she was a….” And he didn’t want to be talking about this. Not with the woman who’d done those things to his daughter. The woman who caused those tiny red marks, that leered up from his daughter’s neck.
He didn’t want Olivia to be sitting there, waiting, half-expecting him to hurt her, silently deciding she deserved it. He didn’t want Maureen heartbroken over his partner.
He clenched his jaw, and decided it was best if he didn’t look at Olivia when he asked the next question.
“Is she…ok? I mean...” he struggled, feeling his anger build. “If you weren’t careful, Olivia, I swear to God….”
He pictured her as this thing now. This horrible, infectious thing that kissed his daughter, touched his daughter.
“I wouldn’t hurt her,” Olivia said, then she let out a bitter laugh. “Elliot, I’m sorry.” She sounded irritated, more than anything else. “I can’t believe this.”
He had to see her face to make sure she was crying. No, she was barely doing that. Olivia’s expression strained with the effort of containing it. He waited for it; for her to make the usual excuses. A slight nod of the head, as she’d speak about another small incident involving her mother. Another shrug, as she dropped the bomb of her horrendous conception.
He didn’t want her to bother. “Listen, Olivia.” But she shook her head. Her voice came out in a choke.
“Jesus. I can’t believe it’s come to this.” She closed her eyes and exhaled. “I’m surprised you haven’t slugged me one again.”
Elliot told himself he wouldn’t be affected by this, he tried not to care that she was shaking her head, looking away at the traffic. “Olivia, don’t think I don’t want to,” but affection colored his tone, unintentionally.
A laugh escaped her, but she was cringing. “She’d never want me now. Look at this shit. Look at the state of my life, without her.”
It took Elliot a second to realize she was talking about Alex Cabot. It was always about Alex, wasn’t it? Even when he hated his partner, he felt the twinge of sympathy that came from knowing details he was never allowed to discuss with her.
“She’ll be back, Liv.” Then he clarified, to be sure. “Alex…You know, she’s gonna come back.”
But Olivia didn’t respond. She was getting to her feet, sliding her hands into her pockets. Whenever she stopped herself from crying, she tended to look like she was furious at everything around her, she was biting her lip.
“Come on,” he swallowed his anger for the moment, and took hold of her arm. “You’re gonna become a narcoleptic if you don’t sleep, once in a while.”
It was more of an acknowledgement of his attempt at a joke, than a genuine laugh that escaped her.
She allowed him to lead her down the street. He hated how she did this; how she managed to gain sympathy out of him, even when he still despised her so much. He hated her willingness to just fall to pieces, and drag everyone under with her.
But most of all, he hated that this incident was going to become another one of those things they were never allowed to talk about.