Olivia Benson was worn out and tired, she thought she looked the part too as she evaluated herself in front of her full body mirror. It was a Friday night and she had the night off which was something foreign her, she enjoyed time off but felt like she could have used the time to catch up on work. Even though Olivia Benson returned back to the SVU the captain had her doing a safe balance of paper work along with a lighter case load she still didn't fully feel her usual self especially around her other half. Elliott and Olivia worked together when they had to and even though they after the short yet influential leave of absence things weren't quite the same with her partner. They knew each other inside and out but there was always such a deep void that neither one of them had the courage to make a valiant attempt at fulfilling.
Olivia had analysed the situation till she couldn't dissect it apart anymore. There was no point in trying to find explanations for every single questionable thing in their professional and personal relationship plus it was a Friday night. As far as Olivia Benson was concerned Elliott was content on working with Fin while she was placed on separate cases under the captain's order due to the confusion that happened earlier on in the year when their so-called relationship interfered with their jobs.
After opening every window in her small one bedroom apartment she made her way over to her bed not knowing what else to do with her Friday night. A bar would be out of the question since she had no desire to sit alone in a smoke filled area just so that she could end up drinking and making small talk with someone that didn't hold any real interest to her. She was tempted to text Elliott's cell phone and ask him what he was doing but things were defiantly not like they used to be where she could easily talk to him about anything at any given time, well just about anything that is. They said everything besides what they really needed to say and she wasn't ready to venture into that grey area at this hour of the evening.
It was bizarrely hot outside considering how it was past eleven and even though she had a fan pointed directly at her bed as her white tank top stuck to her glistened body like a second skin. She reached over to the small tin box inside her night stand beside a box of protection that must have collected dust along with a cheesy paperback romance novel that she never had the time or desire to finish. She always felt so juvenile and slightly embarrassed whenever she pulled out the tin box; she wasn't a teenager but a grown woman. Olivia Benson was a mature adult who just so happened to be a frustrated yet highly respected detective that was sitting with her legs crossed on her bed about to roll a joint.