Chapter Four

December 24th
4:52 PM

It had taken nearly eight hours, but eventually around 4:30, Olivia's fingers had gone numb from her private marathon Minesweeper tournament. Every time she closed her eyes, she could see the infuriating little grid and she feared she was going to dream about it too.

And then her eyes met her partner's, who had also been reduced to doing nothing besides staring for just over twenty minutes, and she knew that she would most certainly dream of those heavenly blue eyes and that devilish smirk. She got goosebumps just seeing it directed at her.

She'd seen it before, of course, because in all their years together, she'd pretty much seen every expression the man had, except for that one, the one he made when he - well, almost every one about summed it up. The playful smile and unrelenting stare usually resulted in her wanting to be playful too, usually by giving him something to stare at. She'd always imagined a strip tease would do a damn good job. The problem was that the stare and smile were never, ever directed at her. And yet they still managed to make her contemplate giving him a strip tease. The combination was just that potent.

She'd gotten them separately, but never in tandem. When used together, even Mr. Oblivious recognized that the expression was a powerful tool for controlling the most headstrong of women. He reserved the commanding recipe for particularly tough women in the interrogation room, women who were smarter than the usual techniques, women who were beyond everything besides pure sexual attraction.

Being on the receiving end of that look finally explained to Olivia exactly why so many women were suddenly very pissy when they realized that Elliot was not alone.

She shivered and wondered what he was up to.

Because he had to be up to something if he was using that stare on her.

She swallowed hard and willed her body not to respond, but damn if it wasn't far too late for that command. Not that it would have worked anyway.

December 24th
4:55 PM

Her nails, which she'd decided during her earlier inspection were in desperate need of a manicure, drummed into the desk. Elliot was still staring at her. The smirk had abated somewhat, or perhaps the potency had worn off slightly having faced it for several minutes straight, but his eyes were still steadfast and even seemed to reflect a hint of the smile that appeared by all other rights to be fading.

She shivered and pretended not to notice.

December 24th
4:59 PM

He was undressing her in his mind.

She was sure of it. It would have been a bad enough thing on a regular basis done by anyone else. Though, done by anyone else, she would have been so thoroughly pissed off that she might have threatened a harassment suit, a physical injury, arrest, whatever seemed most appropriate.

Rather than any of the standard options, however, the idea that it was Elliot who was doing it filled her mind with a question. Not what did he think he was doing. Not why was he doing it. Not what did he expect to happen since she would know what he was thinking. No, although those questions were there in some recessed corner being ignored totally, those were not the primary concern. Sadly, the feminist in her ran off and hid in utter embarrassment because the only thing she was particularly concerned with at that moment was whether or not Elliot was enjoying the imaginary view.

And the way he wouldn't stop looking at her, wouldn't even blink, told her that he absolutely was.

She decided not to think about it. She'd have plenty of time to think about it during the following day and a half until she would be facing him again. Until then, she'd just revel in it.

December 24th
5:00 PM

"I'd ask what you're so damn happy about, but I really have to run." Conveniently, her happiness was contagious, because he'd started to smile back at her. Not the will-you-be-my-love-slave smile, but a regular I'm-enjoying-myself smile.

It had been a good long time since he'd seen her smile out of such genuine happiness and she knew that she looked damn good when she did, so she fixed her joyful smile on him. "Merry Christmas, El. I'll see you around."

He'd been staring at her for over a half hour, but he stopped in his tracks, his coat hanging limply from his hand while he stared a moment longer at her smile. He seemed to catch himself, furrowing his brow and blinking a few times, quite possibly realizing what he'd been doing for the past half hour for the first time. Then he looked back, not quite at her and smiled. "You too. Have fun with Simon and Lucy and Kyle."

She didn't have time to be impressed with the fact he'd managed to remember their names. She didn't have time to be glad he'd finally mentioned Simon's name without her prompting. He was there one moment; gone the next. Shaking her head slowly, she followed him, the unfamiliar idea forming in her head that she needed to get moving too or she'd be stuck in traffic on the way to her brother's.

Her brother's.

For Christmas Eve.

She was so tickled at the notion that Elliot didn't cross her mind again for a good long time.

December 24th
7:48 PM

The people on the commercials made it look so easy. The directions on the package made it sound so easy. But when faced with actually doing it, following simple instructions in plain English appeared to be out of her reach.

And just what did good spreading consistency mean anyhow?

She'd promised a five-year-old that they could make cookies. And she'd stupidly asked him what kind he wanted. Had she any experience dealing with children that hadn't been abused she might have known that showing up with slice-and-bake pre-made cookie dough would have been the way to go. But no, silly girl that she was expected Kyle to be as low maintenance as she had been at the same age. She'd mistakenly opened a can of worms. Because Kyle didn't want the simple cookies that would be ready in ten minutes which came pre-stamped with Santa faces on them.

He wanted the kind his mommy made. Because they were "the yummiest in the whole wide world." And that was logic that Olivia, as a logical, problem-solving oriented adult had trouble combating.

So she'd bought all the ingredients on the list Lucy had patiently recited over the phone and arrived at their house with the expectation that she could follow a linear sequence of steps in a chronological fashion and arrive at the result in the picture. And she might have been right, had she not been distracted in the midst of instructing Kyle on what to do by a pair of stunning blue eyes.

What was particularly stunning about them was that they weren't even there. Just thinking about that stare reduced her to spontaneous brain death. During her transient catatonic state, Kyle had taken it upon himself to mix everything on the counter together, since Olivia had made the mistake of lifting him up to sit on the counter while she blended. When she stopped blending, preoccupied with blending herself and the owner of the blue eyes, Kyle picked up where she left off.

Jarred back into consciousness by the buzzer on the oven that indicated it had pre-heated, Olivia somehow neglected to realize she'd abandoned the process in the early stages and put Kyle's handiwork in the oven to bake.

December 24th
8:13 PM

Something was very, very wrong with the cookies. They didn't look right. They didn't smell right. And despite cooking them far longer than the directions had called for, they had yet to achieve solidity.

She also only had seventeen minutes before Kyle was due in bed, at the risk of having Santa scrap his visit. Kyle, who sat with his nose to the glass pane on the stove to watch, was rapidly growing more nervous that he would not have prepared the required cookies for Santa. Olivia, who had already accepted utter defeat, didn't have the heart to tell him that it wasn't going to happen. She leaned on the counter and put her face in her filthy hands, not caring one bit about the cookie ingredients she smeared on her face in the process. Her brother and sister-in-law-to-be were about to have to calm a hysterical child that was hysterical because Olivia couldn't stop daydreaming about her married and completely off-limits partner of ten years. She doubted they'd care if she had flour and cocoa all over her face when they disowned her and threw her out of their house.

The next thing she knew, Kyle was tearing out of the room.

"Santa!"

Figuring she was busted for being a failure of an aunt, she stayed right where she was and waited for someone to come yell at her.

December 24th
8:17 PM

When no one appeared to throw her out and no disappointed kid reappeared to tell her it had been a false alarm, she figured she needed to follow up. There was a chance that her nephew of sorts was climbing his way to the roof to look for a certain red-suited man, leaving Olivia even more guilty of wrong-doing.

But she stopped in her tracks when she got to the doorway, stunned by the sight before her.

Kyle, having heard something that equated to Santa in his mind, had thrown open the front door. Lucy, who'd been busying playing Santa in the other room, had responded, but she too remained frozen in her tracks, albeit for an entirely different reason.

Kyle was standing mesmerized at the man in the doorway. Eventually his ecstatic face fell. "You're not Santa."

Elliot shook his head. "No, I'm not."

"But I heard a reindeer!"

"That was my car." Elliot squatted down to eye level with the boy. "You're Kyle, aren't you?"

Olivia was enthralled, too much so to notice the fear on Lucy's face.

Kyle nodded. "Do you work for Santa?"

Elliot smiled. "Yes, I do. And Santa wants you to know that he knows you've been a very good boy this year."

Kyle's eyes lit up and he surged forward to hug the man he didn't know.

Lucy did the same, grabbing at Kyle before he could touch Elliot. "Don't talk to strangers!" Holding Kyle in a tight hug while backing away from the door, she looked at Elliot. "Do I know you?"

Simon came running at Lucy's shout, luckily recognizing Elliot. "Lucy, it's ok." He patted her shoulder. "It's Elliot."

"I'm looking for Olivia." Elliot still hadn't noticed that she was in the doorway. "You must me Lucy. Liv told me about you and Kyle."

The man was smooth. Because, Olivia thought, just the night before, he'd been pretending that she didn't have a brother and definitely didn't know the names of his family members.

Lucy set Kyle back down, who ran back to Elliot. "Well, then, come on in."

Elliot scooped Kyle up, well versed with handling children, and offered his hand to Lucy and Simon. "Sorry about the confusion. He was just so excited about hearing the reindeer."

Simon looked skeptical. "I thought I heard a horse too. That was your car?"

Olivia loved watching him interact with her family, as loose as that definition was for her. When she thought about it, she realized she wasn't watching Elliot interact with her family. She was watching Simon, Lucy, and Kyle interact with her family. It was overwhelming, she realized, so much so that she couldn't say or do anything to let them know she was there. It was heartwarming. It was breathtaking. It was amazing. She could only stand there and smile as her nephew wrapped his short arms around Elliot and squeezed him as hard as he could.

Lucy and Elliot were making quite the fuss over what a good boy Kyle had been when Simon looked over and saw her. "There you are!" She nodded, pretending she'd been busy with the cookies.

And then Lucy, with the eye of a woman with a beating heart, winked at Olivia. "I think your present came early."

In that moment, Elliot almost got his wish of getting a time machine because Lucy's words had the power to stop time. For Olivia, at least. She had never been so embarrassed, not since her mother had stopped showing up drunk to her school functions. Families had the ability to mortify a person to death, she remembered.

She swallowed hard, knowing her cheeks were stained red. She stuttered out a few syllables because she wasn't sure how Lucy had figured out what she really wanted for Christmas or how her Christmas wish came to pass. And then she promptly remembered that she worked with Elliot and that he was probably there to drag her back to the office, leaving her to feel even dumber in front of Elliot.

"Did Fin and Lake catch Chambers?"

Elliot looked dumbfounded for a moment. "I don't have a clue."

"Then what are you doing here?" She didn't mean to be rude; her brain wasn't functional.

His cheeks started to color to match hers. Lucy stepped in, taking Kyle out of his arms. "Little man, I think it's time for bed."

"Do I have to?" Kyle looked hopefully at Elliot, as though his promise about Santa was already set in stone.

Elliot nodded. "You've been very good, but Santa can't come while you're awake."

"Ok, mister."

Lucy tickled him and laughed. "Kyle, why don't you call him Uncle Elliot?" Even Simon was blushing furiously at that point, shooing the two from the room and following close behind to put Kyle to bed.

Finally alone, Olivia discovered voluntary control over her mouth. "I swear I have no idea what that was about."

He nodded and, based on what she knew of his family, she was sure he understood. "Lizzie still calls Munch her uncle. Don't worry about it."

She came into the room fully. "So this isn't about work?"

"Santa wanted me to bring you something." He disappeared back to the porch for a moment. When he reappeared, he was holding a very large package.

They had never exchanged gifts. It just wasn't something they could do. In the beginning they hadn't known each other well enough to bother. In the end, they knew each other too well. She would easily have done a better job picking a gift for him than his wife ever had; he would have put considerably more thought into a gift for her than he ever did for his wife. A plain "Merry Christmas" was all they ever gave each other. She was completely unprepared for him to drive all the way out to Simon's house in Jersey to bring her a present. And she felt terrible that she didn't have anything for him.

"What is this?" Ever since that disaster of a Christmas with her mother, she'd been anxious and suspicious facing presents. The fact that it was from Elliot only made it worse.

He grinned, but his grin faded quickly. "Is something burning?"

December 24th
8:45 PM

Olivia was perched on the counter exactly where Kyle had been sitting. She would have thought the coincidence strange, except that it was the only space on the counter not covered with some sort of cookie ingredient. Elliot was trying to scrape the broiled globs off the baking sheet.

The batteries from the smoke detector lay next to Olivia; the kitchen door stood open inviting in the ice cold air to replace the smoke.

She wanted to be embarrassed at her utter failure in the kitchen, except Elliot's amusement was so very real that she couldn't help but enjoy it too. Especially since Elliot was more than happy to shift into protective male mode and "save" her from the kitchen fire. Hell, he was even saving her from having to admit that she'd ruined the cookies with his offer to help once he was done cleaning up.

He looked up from his scrubbing, the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up above his elbows as he worked. "How exactly did this happen?"

She pretended not to be hypnotized by the well-defined muscles working in his bare forearms. It took her a moment, having been so surprised at his presence that she'd managed to put it out of her mind. "Um – I'm not actually-" And then she remembered. Kyle had taken over with the recipe, without being able to read a word. Because she'd been busy thinking of Mr. Blue Eyes himself. She smiled despite herself. "I might have let Kyle help too much."

He rolled his eyes. "You let a four-year-old make cookies himself?"

"He's five." Realizing that her correction did nothing to further her case, she added an emphatic shrug.

Perhaps it was the holiday spirit, but Elliot seemed to accept her bullshit answer. "You probably wouldn't have done any better anyway."

"Hey!" In mock anger, she reached for something to throw at him.

The spatula, still covered with uncooked dough, flew through the air, splattering dough everywhere.

As Elliot wiped one of the globs off his chin, he sighed. "Great, now I look like you."

Olivia had thought Lucy's comment was the epitome of embarrassment. But no, Olivia had stumbled into a new depth all on her own. There she was, fantasizing about the man cleaning up the mess she'd made and flirting her ass off, having smeared flour and sugar and cocoa all over her face. She wanted to die.

Propping her elbows on her knees, she dropped her face into her hands, unconcerned that she was only exacerbating the problem. "You could have told me I was a mess," she moaned into her hands.

"You're not a mess."

She would have disputed his statement, but his hands were on her wrists, pulling her hands from her face, gently wiping them clean with a paper towel. She wasn't sure what to say.

"In fact, you might be the cutest damn thing I've ever seen." Having finished with her hands, he reached toward her face and repeated the process. His eyes softened as he worked, staring at her with something she could only describe as adoration as he touched her face.

Words were a complete loss for her. She could only stare at him with a stupid smile on her face.

AN: There will be more. It's taking longer than I planned to get to the end, but I'm working on it, I promise!