Disclaimer: They're still Dick's.
Author's Notes:
Just a short ficlet I wrote for a challenge a while back using a couple
of prompts. I just realized that I never posted it here, but I've
posted it a few other places, so you may have already read it.
- - -
Olivia slowly wakes, realizing almost immediately how uncomfortable she is. Her left arm is almost completely asleep, something hard is poking her in the hip, and she had been sleeping at such an awkward angle that her neck is stiff and sore. She wakes up a little more, the TV loud and obnoxious in her half-conscious state, and it takes her a moment before she realizes that has been asleep on Elliot's couch; that the hard thing poking her hip is, in fact, his left knee, and that he is still asleep behind her, her back resting against his chest.
"El?" she says softly, sitting up. She tries to remember what had happened, but she's still too tired to think. She can't remember much of anything except pizza, a few beers, and a movie she hadn't seen the end of. She can't remember how it was that she'd ended up asleep on her partner's couch, half-lying on top of said partner.
"Hmm?" he says, slowly waking. He sits up, scrubbing his hands over his face and yawns. "God that's loud," he says, grabbing the remote and turning down the TV as it blares an infomercial for Wada Calcium CD3, some Japanese dietary supplement. "What time is it...?"
"Almost three," she tells him, running her hand through her hair. "I should get going-"
"Stay," he says quickly. "It's late. Sweats and t-shirts are in the bottom drawer of my dresser...take my bed."
"Elliot, I'm not taking your bed," she tells him, shaking her head. "I'll be fine getting home."
He hesitates for a moment, wondering if it's even worth it to argue with her. He finally realizes he'll never win and gives up. "You sure?"
She nods, smiling at his concern. "I'm a cop, Elliot. I'm pretty sure I can manage getting into a cab and getting home."
"All right...but I'm walking you out and you have to call me as soon as you get home. Otherwise I'll never be able to sleep tonight."
She rolls her eyes, standing up from the couch. "You really need to stop worrying about me so much."
"I'm your partner. It's in my job description," he says, getting up and walking behind her. They both sit down in the kitchen chairs, putting on the sneakers they'd discarded by the door earlier that evening, neither of them saying a word. Elliot waits for her as she ties the laces, watching a lock of her hair continually fall in front of her face, no matter how many times she pushes it behind her ear.
"Ready?" she asks, standing, and follows him out of the apartment door. Two flights of stairs in a comfortable silence that can exist only after eight years of friendship and finally they stand on the sidewalk in front of his building, watching for a cab. "Hey Elliot?" she says after a few moments.
"Yeah?"
"Thanks. For tonight," she tells him, looking towards the street instead of at him. "That case really got to me today. I needed to get my mind off of it."
"I did, too," he confesses, smiling slightly. He sees a cab driving towards them and steps closer to the curb to get the driver's attention. He slows to a stop and Elliot opens the door for her, causing her to roll her eyes.
"You really need to knock it off with that," she tells him, starting to get into the back seat.
"Wait a second," he says, grabbing her hand and stopping her. His intense blue stare makes her feel as if he's burning holes in her face as he looks at her. Finally, he takes a breath and leans in, overtop of the open cab door, and kisses her softly, just barely parting her lips in a short and sweet, but electrifying kiss. "Goodnight," he tells her, grinning at the shocked look on her face; the way she continues to stare at him, even as she sits down in the backseat. "Call me when you get home."
"Night," she finally chokes out and watches him through the window as he walks back inside.
- - -
The End.