There were mounds of presents under the tree, most of the contents unknown to him. He never did have the time or patience to go Christmas shopping. This year he had relied on each of his children to help him out with gifts for the others as well as Kathy. He was sure that they all knew what they were getting, but they were all past the age where Christmas morning was full of excitement and wonder. He missed that, but he knew that he could look forward to it once again with Eli.

Then there were the presents for him. While he didn't know what the boxes contained, he could make fairly accurate guesses for most of them. One of those boxes though … he couldn't fathom what it might contain. He had found it on his desk that night when he stopped by the precinct. He was dropping off a gift-wrapped package of his own, so he shouldn't have been surprised.

The shiny blue paper and silver bow taunted him from under the tree. He had never made any exceptions: Christmas presents were for Christmas Day. Surely this had to be a special circumstance. And technically since it was after midnight it was Christmas Day. So he got up, refreshed his mug of eggnog, and took the present back to the chair.

A box of Christmas decorations sat in the corner of the room. Some wreaths and garlands peaked out of the open flap, with a couple stockings and a tree skirt sitting at the bottom. Usually she got as far as the garlands before stashing the box away. This year, it was a miracle she had even taken the box out of the closet.

Someone to put those decorations up with, someone to admire the festive glow with over a glass of eggnog: that might top her list. She wondered if that was the sort of thing Santa could bring her. She shook the image out of her head as she topped off her glass of eggnog and sprinkled some nutmeg over it.

A grown woman spending Christmas Eve wishing Santa would bring her a soul mate. It sounded so absurd. She wouldn't think that her soul mate was very well asleep in Queens, or playing Santa himself as his children slept.

One last gaze around the apartment and she was convinced that she couldn't spend another Christmas Eve by herself. Gathering her things, she remembered to blow out the gingerbread-scented candle on her way out. She wasn't heartless; she did need a small reminder of the holidays.

The squad room was deserted. While she wasn't normally one for prayers, she said a little one in hopes that it could remain that way for the next 24 hours. Her mind told her that holidays, especially Christmas, could bring on cases because there were more opportunities for drunken encounters and family gatherings. The holidays could also bring on the memories of an assault, or being with loved ones could provide the support needed to report. Still, she hoped that for one day the detectives could catch a break. They all had obligations and they deserved the chance to carry them out.

As much as her mind protested, in her heart she hoped that everyone caught a break that day. She hoped that no one was newly victimized or re-victimized. She ignored the nagging feeling in her gut. If people could believe in Santa and flying reindeer and elves, she could believe that there was a chance.

She had been so wrapped up in her thoughts that she hadn't noticed the gift sitting on her desk. The wrapping was shoddy and it made her smile. She would have known who it was from anyways, but it screamed inexperience and there was really only one person that could be. There had never been any rules or traditions about opening presents in her life, so she drew the present closer and started to inspect it.

The wrapping lay in pieces on the floor, the box top was discarded on the TV tray next to the chair. The bottom of the box lay in his lap and his outstretched arms rested on the edges. He had been sitting there for ten minutes since opening his present. Under a thin layer of tissue paper there had been a dark mahogany frame. It was masculine, but much nicer than anything he would have picked out himself.

What held his attention was the picture inside the frame. Her hair was longer, so it must have been after she returned from Oregon. They were sitting at the table; open cartoons of Chinese take out all over. Someone had caught them in mid-conversation in this candid photo. They were looking at each other and they were laughing. Both of them were leaning toward the other and her raised arm was pointed in his direction, almost like she was reaching for him. He wasn't sure who had taken this picture or where she had found it, but he was grateful.

Those moments when they were happy and could enjoy each other's company had been few and far between for too long. It was time that things changed, and he thought that her gift to him was an indication that she thought the same thing.

He sighed, not wanting to put the picture away. Gently he covered the frame with tissue paper before putting it back in the box. He grabbed his coat and keys before dashing out the door.

Her finger glided under the seams of the wrapping paper, the tape popping as she did. The box was cold from sitting on her desk. Setting the paper aside, she took the top off of the box & placed it on top of the wrapping. No tissue paper covered what was inside and she studied the book jacket before taking it out of the box. Three Cups of Tea. She knew that the book wasn't about tea, although he had teased her about that when she mentioned she wanted to read it.

He remembered. She wasn't sure if she was more shocked that he had remembered her mentioning the book, or that he went out and bought it for her. Flipping the book open, the blue ink caught her eye. She went back a few pages to the one before the title page.

Olivia,

I hope these three cups of tea warm your soul.

Happy Holidays,

Elliot

She reached for her cell phone as she shrugged into her jacket.

Meet me downstairs. El.

He had just finished sending the text message. He sat down on the stoop and set the two cups next to him. It was freezing outside, but his blood was pumping so fast that he didn't notice. It wasn't until he propped his head up on his hand that he realized how tired he was. He would hear the door open before she would be next to him anyways, so he shut his eyes.

"El? Elliot!" was the first thing he heard.

She was standing in front of him and he wasn't sure how he had missed the sound of the door.

"It's freezing out here, what are you doing?" she asked.

"Didn't you get my text message?"

She smiled as she noticed the blue cups sitting next to him.

"You know, it wasn't the end of December that time I showed up at your apartment." She gestured behind him. "Why don't you come up?"

He followed behind her and once they got inside he held a cup out to her.

"Hot cocoa?"

"Thanks," she said as she took it, surprised that it was still warm.

The smile hadn't left her face and he was glad. The book on the counter under her gloves caught his eye.

"You get the present I left on your desk?"

"I did. I can't believe you remembered," she told him. She reached out and touched his arm. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he said with a smile.

"Did you get the present I left for you?" she asked.

"I love it, Liv."

"Really?"

He took a step closer to her, her hand sliding around his arm and onto his back as he did.

"Really."

She cleared her throat. It had been two days since she had asked him about his plans for Christmas. It had been two days since he had told her that Kathy was at her mother's house. For two days she had been thinking about the absence of a ring on his left hand. For two days she had wondered what that might mean for her, for them.

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and let his hand drop to her neck. He leaned toward her until his lips brushed against hers. They were soft, just as he had imagined. Her lips parted and he felt her tongue run along his bottom lip. Her other hand found his back and she gripped his shirt as he closed the distance between them.

He broke their kiss and rested his forehead against hers.

"Merry Christmas, Liv."

"Merry Christmas, El," she whispered back.