She rolls towards her vibrating phone, with her eyes closed. She feels around on the nightstand. She grabs the phone, and puts it to her ear.
"Benson," she says, groggily, "Yeah, I'll be there in thirty," she hangs up. She puts the phone back.
She leans back, onto the bed. She tries to wake up. She doesn't open her eyes. Her head is throbbing. She takes a deep breath. She realizes that her covers are tangled around her. Against her foot, she feels a leg.
It only takes a second for her to realize there is warm body, lying next to her. The 'oh shit!' moment washes over her, as she fears opening her eyes, and being faced with reality. Against her better judgment she opens her eyes. She looks to her right, and finds a body lying next to her.
She hears him breathing, as he sleeps. She lifts her head off the pillow, unwilling to consider who might be lying next to her. The moonlight shines in, through the curtain. The moonbeam illuminates his face. She stares at her former partner, in disbelief.
She sits up in bed, pulling the sheet up, with her. She runs her fingers through her hair, in disbelief. She kicks him. He doesn't respond.
"Nick, get up, I have a crime scene to get to."
"Uh huh," he mutters, half asleep.
"Nick, I have to go to a crime scene, you have to leave."
"Yeah, ok," he murmurs.
Her voice grows louder, "Nick. I am going to go get in the shower, you need to be gone by the time that I get out."
"I will."
She rolls her eyes, and looks at the clock, as she moves towards the edge of the bed. The clock reads; 337. She pulls the sheet off him, as she slides out of bed. The air from the ceiling fan hits him.
He rolls over, and opens his eyes. He watches, in confusion, as she walks away from the bed, with a sheet around her. She makes it to the bathroom, and slams the door. His head pounds. Autopilot takes over. He slides out of the bed, and begins gathering his clothes off the floor.
He dresses, as he follows the trail of clothing to the living room. He finds that the trail of his belongings leads all the way to the door. He stuffs his tie in the jacket pocket of his suit. He checks his pocket, and makes sure that his wallet, and keys are there, before he leaves. He finds them, and a phone. As he leaves the apartment, he pulls out his phone, to call a cab.
She showers quickly, and thoroughly. She dries her hair most of the way, slaps on some chapstick, and leaves the bathroom. She quickly peels away all of linens, from the bed, though most of them are already on the floor. She piles them on the floor, on top of some of her clothes. She grabs her phone, gun, and badge. She follows the trail of clothing out the door. She locks it, as she leaves.
She makes it to her crime scene, in forty minutes, after her phone call. When she arrives she pulls her hair into a pony tail. She wears a coat, and a scarf, in the frigid weather. Amanda, and Melinda have already arrived.
Olivia walks slowly. Finally she reaches them. Melinda is kneeling by the body, as Olivia stops, next to her partner.
"You look like you had a rough night," Amanda comments.
"You have no idea."
"Did you do something you're going to regret?" Amanda wonders.
Olivia looks at the medical examiner, "What do we have?"
"I am not entirely certain of time of death. It has been rather cold, as you know. I have a liver temp, but I will have a better idea, once I get her back to the morgue."
Hours later, Olivia heads down to the morgue, to see what information Dr. Warner has for her. Amanda isn't at the precinct, because she is chasing down a lead.
Olivia gets off the elevator, and makes small, deliberate, quiet steps towards autopsy. She pushes the door open, and steps in. The harsh fluorescent lights make her eyes burn. For a second she feels as if she's going to throw up. Melinda looks up from the body that she's standing next to.
"You ok Olivia?"
"I just have a headache."
"You know that I am a medical doctor, right?"
"I am well aware of that. We've been working together a long time."
"So you're lying to me, because?"
"What do you mean?"
"Headache? Seems more like a hangover, to me."
"I am a college kid who doesn't know how to hold her liquor."
"I have seen you drink many man under the table, but I have a feeling last night..."
"I pushed it, a little too far."
"And?"
Olivia reaches into the pocket of her coat. She smiles, for a second, and them pulls out the crisp fifty dollar bill.
"I won."
"At drinking, or pool?"
"Both. I out drank him, and then kicked his ass at pool."
"But did you really win?"
"Last night, I thought that I did."
Before Melinda can ask anything else Amanda pushes through the doors. The smell of coffee hits Olivia's nostrils, in a split second. She looks up, at Amanda, who holds a beverage carrier in her hands. She sits it down on a table. She hands one of the cups to Melinda, and then offers one to Olivia.
"I know that you don't usually drink coffee, but..."
"I'll take it," she holds tightly to the cup.
"That's what I thought," Amanda grabs herself a cup.
"Thank you," Melinda sips her.
"No problem."
Olivia swallows the warm elixir. "So, what did you find?" she turns to Melinda, trying to avoid Amanda's inquiries, and questioning looks.