Disclaimer: Characters belong, sadly, to Dick Wolf. The fictional setting and happenings they find themselves in is the working of TStabler.
A/N: When you're in love, nothing will keep or scare you away.
It wasn't the fact that she texted him at three in the morning that drove him into a frenzy, it was what the text said, the words she'd chosen.
"I'm not gonna make it tonight. I have a fever and can't stop coughing. I don't want to get you sick."
He'd slapped his phone shut as soon as he read it, practically leapt from his bed, and threw on the first clean pair of pants he could find. He grabbed his keys and his coat and he was gone, determined to prove to her how little he cared about catching anything from her.
He sped through lights and down vacant alleys, taking every shortcut he knew until he pulled up in front of her apartment.
It hit him, then. He looked at the clock on his dashboard and for a moment felt silly for being there half dressed in the middle of winter at three forty-eight in the goddamned morning. He took a breath, then looked up at her front door. He nodded to himself and turned off his car, then dashed from his parking spot to the door, using his copy of her card key to get through.
He grinned at the doorman as he ran toward the stairs, knowing the elevator was slow and probably broken. He played scenarios in his head as he climbed, possible reactions as she opened the door, or his favorite: he used his key and found her fragile body on the couch. He carried her to bed and snuggled her close surprising her only when she woke.
Shaking the thoughts away, he pushed through to the landing of her floor, and he felt his knees buckle with nerves as he walked to her door. He cleared his throat as he wrapped two fingers around the silver key, then stared blankly ahead as he jammed the key into the keyhole and twisted, his heart stopping when it clicked. He held still, holding his breath, and gave the door a light nudge, allowing it to slide slowly open.
He looked around, smiling at the tree in the corner she had protested putting up. Then he chuckled, remembering how she'd finally agreed to leave it up then went crazy buying ornaments and made him stay up till midnight decorating it. His eyes dropped to the presents beneath it, rolling his eyes at the way she wasted an entire roll of wrapping paper and two rolls of tape in an attempt to wrap them all by herself, and how he'd run to help her wrap them before she threw them all out of the window.
It was a Christmas of firsts for them, and he wasn't going to let a silly little sickness stand in the way.
"Liv?" he whispered then, focusing on the roll of blankets on the couch. He let the door close as softly as he could, then tiptoed over to her. "Liv?" he whispered again. He reached out a hand and pressed it gently to her forehead, earning a low groan from her in response.
"Go home," she garbled, her heavy-lidded eyes focusing on him.
He smiled and shook his head, taking off his coat, and he said, "I planned to spend Christmas with you, and so I am."
"El, I don't want you..."
"Shh," he interrupted, and he made his way to her cabinet, finding in its doors large mug and some loose tea. He filled the mug with tap water and plopped it in the microwave, hitting a few buttons and waiting. "I'm staying," he told her as he filled a round bobber with tea. "I'm perfectly content taking care of you, if I haven't made that clear over the last decade, or so."
Olivia rolled her eyes and coughed as she tried to sit up. "Your family..."
"Is gone," he interrupted, grabbing the hot mug from the microwave and dropping the bobber into it. "You know Kathy and Larry took Eli to Florida."
"Yes, but the kids..."
"Liv, Maureen is spending Christmas with Luke and his family, Kathleen isn't coming home from school for the holidays, Dickie and Lizzie went on a ski trip with their friends, so it was just us anyway. Us, Liv."
Olivia blinked once, her eyes fixed on his body as he walked toward her with the mug of tea in his hands. She pulled her feet in to allow him to sit, and she chuckled as he grabbed her ankles and flattened her feet, perching them in his lap.
He handed her the mug, and he seethed, "Careful, it's hot."
She nodded as she took a sip, then sighed. "You can't afford to get sick."
He grinned at her. "I can't afford to be without you, either." He brushed a bit of hair back behind her ear and his smile softened. "I'd rather be here with you and risk a cold than be alone tonight wishing I wasn't."
She smiled back. "Tell me why." She tilted her head and took another sip of tea, then gasped slightly as she felt him grab her hand. She froze as he leaned closer and closer, but she didn't stop him.
Hovering above her, he smiled softly, and the hand that wasn't clutching hers stroked gently down her face. He bent his head and kissed her, taking her lower lip between both of his, suckling lightly. He looped his left hand around her neck as his right tightened around her fingers. He swiped his tongue just slightly over hers, earning a soft gasp, and then pulled back, kissing her cheeks, her forehead, and her nose. "Because," he said softly, "I love you."
Olivia could feel her fever breaking, yet she didn't feel any less hot, and she knew why. After a harsh cough and another sip of tea, she looked at him. "I love you, too, El."
He smirked as he settled back into the couch and rested both of his hands on her feet. "Sleep," he told her. He gave her ankles a squeeze, then watched her take a final sip of tea and put the mug on her coffee table. He smiled at her as she nestled in the crook of the couch and when she reached for his hand, he gladly gave it to her.
He sighed once and let his head fall back, knowing this was truly going to be his perfect Christmas.
A/N: Next: Elliot finds a crumpled letter to Santa, and thinks he knows who wrote it. Will he make some Christmas magic happen?