She feels her legs turn to jello. His hand cups her face, near her jaw-line. He pulls her closer. She moves towards him. Without a second thought she reaches for his jacket. It slips onto the cushion of the couch. His fingers slip to the buttons on her shirt. She reaches for his tie. It doesn't take long, for it to fall to the floor.
Three A.M. comes early. The sound of her phone, shrilling on the bedside stand, next to her head, wakes her up. Her first instinct is to keep her eyes closed, and roll towards it. She finds that she's unable to go anywhere. There is an arm wrapped around her. She pushes it off, and rolls towards the ringer. She grabs the phone, in the nick of time. She pulls it to her ear.
"Benson," she answers, "Ok. Yeah, I'll be there shortly," he hangs up the phone.
She hangs up the phone, and flips on the lamp. She looks to her left, and finds that her sheets are tangled around her. She looks at the naked man, who lays on his side, on the other side of the bed. He is barely covered by the sheet. She silently curses herself. She untangles herself, from the sheet. She grabs her phone, and slides out of the bed.
"Where are you going?" he questions, with his face planted in a pillow.
"I have a crime scene to get to. Show yourself the way out."
"What time is it?"
She looks at the clock, "Three after three."
"Can I finish sleeping?"
"Whatever," she rolls her eyes, as she heads to the bathroom, for a shower.
She makes it to the crime scene, forty minutes later. She ducks under the tape, and joins her partner, around a dead body.
"Where's Warner?" Olivia questions.
"On her way," Amanda reveals.
"I just love three am wake up calls," Olivia growls.
"Especially when you don't get any sleep," Amanda raises an eyebrow, looking at her suspiciously.
Olivia looks at the body, and then looks up at her partner, "What are you talking about?"
"You smell like shampoo."
"Last time that I checked, that wasn't a crime. And I have smelled of much worse things."
"Like you just got out of the shower," Amanda continues with her train of thought.
"Still not a crime," Olivia adds.
"What would possess you to take a shower, at three o'clock in the morning?"
Olivia clams up, she breaks eye contact, and focuses on the body, lying on the ground.
"Maybe to avoid a walk of shame?" Amanda proposes.
Olivia looks at her sharply, but says nothing.
"Which," Amanda adds, "would not be any of my business, so, I am just going to shut up, now."
"For how long?" Olivia responds.
"I'll let you know," she answers, as Melinda ducks under the crime scene tape, and comes towards them.
Hours later, they leave the precinct, and make a coffee run, on their way to inform the family of the victim. Olivia parks the car. Amanda gets out, without a word. A few minutes later, she returns with warm beverages, and muffins. She hands one of the cups to Olivia. Olivia sticks it in the cup holder, and puts the car into drive. They pull away from the curb.
"What's wrong with you?" Amanda comes right out, and asks the question on her mind.
"It would be difficult for me to narrow it down to just one thing," Olivia answers, angrily.
"Today. What is wrong with you today?"
"I'm fine," Olivia lies.
"If you want to lie to yourself, that's fine, but it isn't fair to lie to me."
"Drop it, Rollins," Olivia insists.
"You're just in such a bad mood."
Olivia rolls her eyes, and grips the steering wheel. "Everyone is entitled to have a bad day, now, and then."
"You were off yesterday," Amanda reminds her.
"I don't want to talk about it."
"You don't want to talk about anything," Amanda calls her out on the carpet.
"Excuse me for being in a bad mood, it's eight o'clock, and I've been up for five hours, already."
"So, have I, but I am not taking it out on my partner."
"I'm sorry."
"Why is it so hard for you to share anything with me?"
"We're partners. We're not friends, we're not buddies. You don't need to all the personal details of my life."
"I know that you've had a couple of partners, in a couple of years. I know you don't want to get attached, but, get over yourself."
"Amanda," she says, sharply, "drop it."
"Obviously you don't like Valentine's day, why not?"
"I said, drop it."
"You don't have to be bitter."
Olivia looks over at her, "I am not bitter."
"You're over forty, and don't have a Valentine. That would make me bitter."
"Rollins, at the rate you're going, you're going to be just like me."
"That hurts."
"Do you ever think about what you say, before you say it?"
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."
"I wasn't alone, on Valentine's day, anyway."
"I knew it!"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"What do you want to talk about?"
"Something else," Olivia tries to move on.
"Why haven't you ever been married?"
Olivia nearly chokes. She maintains her composure, and asks, "Where did that come from?"
"You've never been married. Why not? Have you ever come close?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"No one ever measured up to your standards?"
"Something like that," Olivia rolls her eyes.
"No one was ever the one you wanted. No one was ever Elliot."
"You're crossing a line."
"Why haven't you ever been married?"
"It isn't any of your damn business!"
"Obviously I've struck a chord."
"Can't you just mind your business."
"I just want to know."
"I am married to my job."
"That is no excuse."
"You nothing about me, or my life, so just drop it."