Bensler Oneshots

Miscommunication is Key

"What color's your dress?"

"Hmm?" Olivia asked distractedly, not really paying attention to her partner as she scrolled through the images of ex-cons on her computer screen.

"For the Christmas ball. What color dress did you pick out?" Elliot clarified.

She raised an eyebrow, peering around the monitor to look at him curiously. "And since when do I inform you of my fashion choices?"

"Well, I need to know. I'm going to get a tie to match." He said it like it was obvious.

Olivia let out a laugh. "Wait. Hold on. What if I had a date? Don't you think he'd want to match with me? Think it was weird if you did, too?"

"You do have a date, I'm your-oh, shit." Elliot's face reddened immediately. "I didn't ask you, did I?"

She grinned. "No, you didn't. Did you think you did?"

"Well, I, the other night we were talking about it, and I, uh, I was planning on asking you, but we got sidetracked with the case, and I was so sure I did, but no, I definitely never did ask."

Olivia started laughing, and Elliot huffed, not sure whether he was more embarrassed at his slip-up or angry that she thought it was so hilarious.

"Alright, alright. It's not that funny, Liv."

"It's a little bit funny. I wish you could've seen the look on your face. You were absolutely mortified."

"I get it. You don't want to go with me. It's fine."

Olivia rolled her eyes. "Quit your whining. I don't mind going with you. I'd just appreciate actually being asked is all."

Elliot smiled, confidence bouncing back. He stood from his chair and walked over, only to get down on one knee beside her desk chair. "Detective Benson?"

She felt her face flush. "Yes, Detective Stabler?"

"Would you do me the great honor of allowing me to escort you to the NYPD's Christmas ball?"

"Yes, I'd like that very much."

At their own desks across the room, Fin and Munch watched on, not sure whether they should laugh at the funny misunderstanding or gag at the overwhelming fluff that was the Benson/Stabler saga.

Elliot stood. "That work for you?"

Olivia nodded. "Yes, it does." When he'd returned to his chair, she added, "It's red."

"What?"

"My dress."

"Oh, that's good, uh, you look good in red."

She chuckled, and they returned to their tasks, both daydreaming about the magical evening in their future.