A/N: I do not own these characters 

"Bless you," Olivia said, stretching across her desk to hand her partner a tissue.

"Thanks," he said appreciatively.

"You feeling alright, El?" she asked, a genuine look of concern coming over her face.

"Yeah, yeah, just the sniffles," he said with a half-smile.

The station house was bustling on this dreary Thursday morning. Sirens could be heard just above the whipping of the wind outside. The smell of stale coffee lingered in the air, making Olivia happy she stopped at Starbucks on her way into work. She and Elliot pored over their paperwork, neither making a sound, except for Elliot's occasional sniffle.

"Benson, Stabler," Captain Cragen called, motioning for them to join him in his office.

The pair reluctantly stood up and headed into the captain's office.

"I got one for you, CSU just called us in," he said, handing Elliot a note with an address on it.

"We're on it," he said, heading out the door.

The two grabbed their coats from the backs of their chairs. Elliot lifted a box of tissues from his desk, holding it upside down, hoping another tissue would magically appear.

"Ahh, damn it," he grumbled.

As they headed to the elevator, Olivia pulled a handkerchief out of her coat pocket. Elliot looked at it skeptically.

"It's clean, I swear," she said jokingly.

He accepted the hanky, and very respectfully, turned his back toward her so she wouldn't see him blow into it.

"Since when did you start carrying a hanky?" he asked, offering it back to her with a smile.

"No, thanks, you can keep it," she said, toyfully batting it out of her face where he held it for her to see.

As they stepped outside of the building, Olivia instinctively wrapped her coat around her tighter. They had had an unusually mild winter, so this cold snap had everyone groaning and complaining. Elliot rested his hands on his back and stretched.

"You're an old man, Stabler," Olivia teased, taking off in the direction of their squad car. He followed, a little more slowly.

"I'm forty-five, my body just doesn't want to function like it did when I was twenty-five," he said.

The truth is, and he wouldn't admit it to anyone, ever since a foot chase ended badly a few months ago, his body just couldn't recover. One of the few times this winter there had been snow, he chased a perp for several blocks until he slipped on a patch of ice and landed hard on his back. He had a hard time admitting to himself it was getting harder to perform the physical aspects of his job. There was no way he would admit it to Olivia.

As they waited in the car for the heat to kick in, they listened intently to the forecast on the radio.

"Do you think we'll actually get this blizzard?" Olivia wondered aloud.

"I could have told you yesterday," Elliot said with a smile. Ever since he had fallen, his back acted up every time there was a change in the weather.

They drove in silence for a few minutes. Olivia studied her partner's face intently while he focused on the road. She noticed he looked more tired than usual. Elliot's eyes seemed to droop ever so slightly, and they were a little red and watery. His cheeks were bright pink and his nose looked sore from the sniffles.

And then he did it. She couldn't help herself, she laughed out loud.

"What's so funny?" Elliot asked.

"When you have a sore throat, you do this weird –"Olivia mimicked clearing her throat, adding in a not so subtle head jerk – "thing," she said, still laughing.

"I do not!" he yelled in defense. "I don't even have a sore throat!"

"Don't lie, Elliot! We first noticed it when you caught strep from Dickie."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Fin does the best impression of it, he's just gonna die when I tell him it's back," she said, her laughter subsiding.

He took his eyes off the road for a quick moment, just to give her a look. She understood that look well. Elliot tends to take things pretty seriously, and when the others joke around with him, sometimes it takes a few minutes for him to come around. Olivia wasn't worried, though. She acted like the look didn't bother her.

"Oh, don't even go there, Elliot. It's funny and you know it."

He didn't respond, but his face loosened up a little bit, and he eventually cracked a sly smile.

"Do I really do that?" he asked, laughing himself.

They came upon a brownstone lined street crawling with sirens and lights. There was a crowd of people lurking in front of yellow police tape.

They slammed their doors shut and approached the swarm of people. They introduced themselves to the officer manning the scene and entered the house. It was warm inside, both detectives were thankful for that. Elliot peeled off his stocking hat and Olivia unwrapped her soft, red scarf from around her neck. An officer just inside the door directed them upstairs. They took a quick look around the living room before heading up the set of brown, rickety stairs.

"God, it looks the Pottery Barn catalog threw up in here," Olivia said, amazed at how perfectly the coffee tables matched every piece of furniture.

"I didn't know you were into pottery," Elliot said, following her up the stairs. "Eight years we've been partners, and never so much as a vase?"

Olivia rolled her eyes and continued up the steps.

"Give me a minute, detectives, and I can give you some details," Dr. Warner instructed them.

Benson and Stabler took this opportunity to speak with the victim's roommate, the girl who had found her lying on her bed, not breathing. She was obviously upset and frightened, and after calming her down somewhat, they were able to extract some information from her.

"So, the victim's name is Summer Cooper, she lives here with 3 friends, attends NYU, last seen coming home around midnight last night alone," Elliot recaps to Olivia.

"Elliot! Olivia!" called Dr. Warner, waving them into the bedroom.

"Damn, none of my girls ever kept their rooms this clean," Elliot said, glancing around the room. Not a single article of clothing was out of place, the desk was neat and tidy, and the curtains hung perfectly.

"See this?" Dr. Warner asked as the detectives leaned in closer to the girl.

"Ahhh-" Elliot hastily fished in his pockets for the hanky "-chooo!" he let out, unable to cover his nose in time.

"Oh, God, Elliot, you didn't," Olivia murmured under her breath, realizing the reality of what just happened.

He sniffled, a look of utter humiliation covering his face. Backing up from the bed, he barely stuttered, "I, uh, I'm going to uh, just, um, outside," and he turned and left the room, shaking his head.

Benson and Warner finished with the details, and Olivia headed back outside into the cold, where she met her partner. He was leaning against the passenger door of their sedan, with his arms crossed over his chest. It appeared as though he was intently studying his shoelaces when Olivia startled him.

"Hey!" she said, his head jerking up.

"Did you get everything?" he asked without making eye contact. She nodded, knowing better than to say anything. He rubbed his eyes with his fingertips and tossed Olivia the keys. They drove in silence back to the station, where they were met with a quick greeting from Fin.

"Daddy's mad," he said, a wicked smile crossing his face. Elliot and Olivia exchanged glances. Raising his eyebrows at her, Olivia shook her head.

"Stabler! My office! Now!" Elliot inhaled deeply, shoved his hands in his pockets, and went to face the captain. Fortunately for the rest of the squad, Elliot neglected to close the door behind him.

"What the hell happened, Elliot? I get a call from Warner, asking me to tell you to stop by her office to give her a DNA sample? Naturally I want to know why," Cragen said, pacing back and forth in his office, whipping a Twizzler around as he spoke.

Munch and Fin crept up behind Olivia, demanding details.

"Shh, listen," she whispered.

"You contaminated a crime scene?" he asked accusingly. Elliot mumbled something inaudible under his breath.

"You sneezed on a dead girl's body!" Cragen continued. Munch and Fin let out a collective gasp.

"Aww, that's just wrong," Fin muttered, shaking his head in disgust.

"I'm guessing if it was a dry sneeze there wouldn't be all this fuss," Munch added sarcastically.

"Your guess would be right," Olivia nodded.

"As of right now, you're on sick leave. If you come back and I hear you so much as sniffle, I'll send you right back home. Go home, Elliot," Cragen said, opening his office door wider to usher Elliot out.

"Get back to work!" he hollered at everyone else.

Without even so much as a glance at anyone else, Elliot collected a stack of papers from his desk, pulled on his coat, and stormed out. Fin took this prime opportunity to impersonate Elliot's sore throat cough.

"I heard that," Elliot said from the doorway, responding with an inappropriate finger.