The first time we made love, Olivia cried. I was exploring her beautiful, toned body, planting a trail of gentle kisses from her neck to her stomach, then all the way down her thighs. At first, she seemed to be enjoying it – I could see the glistening wetness between her legs and she was moaning her arousal. But then I snaked my hands further down, and her body tensed. I looked up to see tears streaming down her cheeks as she stood frozen, paralyzed, rooted to the spot. I stopped immediately and asked gently, "Liv, are you okay?"

She didn't answer, just stared at me, and I knew enough to stop. This wasn't consensual anymore; she didn't want it. I didn't know why, and I didn't know where she was right now, but it wasn't here.

We didn't try again for three weeks, and we didn't go all the way for eight more. But tonight, Olivia wants it. She gets home from work and flops down on the bed, pulling off her shirt. "Alex," she moans, unclasping her bra. "Come here."

I can hear the overt lust in her tone and it makes me smile, but tonight I feel like torturing her just like she tortures me sometimes. So I just grin and shake my head. "You know, I'm not really in the mood."

"Alex," whines Olivia, pouting up at me. "You know you are."

She looks so pitiful that I have to laugh. "You want something?"

She nods.

"How much do you want it?"

She gives me her sweetest smile. "A lot."

"Mmm," I say noncommittally, absently snaking my hand between her legs, making her groan.

She parts her thighs willingly and I enter her, smiling at the mewls of arousal she emits at the touch. I know just how to take her to a climax, but I bring her to the edge and leave her hovering, pulling my fingers out at the last second.

Olivia groans and tugs my hair lightly. "Alex."

But I just smile. "I have something to tell you, but don't be angry at me, okay?"

She nods her head in earnest. "Yeah, I won't be. Just –"

I press a finger to her lips. "There's not enough evidence to arrest Cardoza. We had to drop the charges." And before she can say a word, I'm inside her again, and she forgets whatever she was about to tell me.

I grin to myself. Two can play that game.

One night, Olivia's out at a stakeout with Elliot and doesn't get home until early the next morning. I'd been asleep, but I wake up at the sound of her soft footsteps entering the bedroom.

She silently changes into her tank top and sweatpants and for some reason, I keep my eyes closed like I used to sometimes when my mother came to check on me in the middle of the night to make sure I was asleep. I just feel like she doesn't want an audience right now.

She presses a soft kiss to my forehead before kneeling down beside the bed and bowing her head and murmuring a soft prayer. "Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the lord my soul to keep. Keep me safe all through the night and wake me with the morning's light."

She switches off the overhead light, turns on the nightlight, and hugs her teddy bear to her chest as she climbs into bed. It's become a ritual for her, the lights and then the bear, but prayer has never been part of it before.

Then it occurs to me how little I actually know about the woman I love.

I wake up on Christmas morning to find Olivia gently rubbing my back. I roll over to smile at her and she smiles back. "'Morning, Alex."

"'Morning, Liv," I reply sleepily, rubbing my eyes.

"Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," I echo.

"Don't you want to see what Santa left you?" she asks with an impish grin.

I roll my eyes. "There's no such thing as Santa."

She shrugs. "If you say so. I'm going to see what's under the tree."

I climb off the bed and follow her into the living room, where there are a hodgepodge of gifts beneath the tree, of different shapes, sizes, and colors.

Olivia hands me an oblong box. "Is this from Santa?" I ask suspiciously.

She laughs. "It's from me. There's no such thing as Santa, remember?"

I laugh with her and take the gift, gently removing its wrapping paper. Finally, Olivia grabs the box from my hands and rips it open. "What was that for?" I ask incredulously.

She shrugs. "You're too slow." She hands me the plain white box. "Here."

I open the box and smile when I see the gift. It's a beautiful beige scarf and I run my fingers over it. "Thank you, Olivia," I say, laughing.

"What's so funny?" she asks sceptically.

I hand her one of her own gifts. "Open this."

It's a beautiful beige scarf, identical to the one she's just given me.

Olivia laughs and wraps the scarf around her neck. "Great minds think alike." And she pulls me into a deep, passionate kiss that melts my heart.

I'm in court, dealing with a case that's been particularly trying. A man who raped his eight-year-old daughter. It took the fight out of Olivia and her exhaustion easily projects onto me.

I deliver my closing arguments and then it's over. I exit the courtroom, emotionally drained, and sit on the bench, burying my head in my hands.

I feel my cell phone vibrating in my pocket and have to fight the overwhelming urge to chuck it in the nearby garbage can. Instead I take it out and check my text message.

i 3 u, princess. i miss u. liv

The text message makes me smile and suddenly, I feel so much better.

Olivia wakes me up in the middle of the night, her face stained with tears, her eyes puffy and red. "What's the matter, ma chérie?" I ask her, sensing that this is going to be a long night.

She sticks out her lower lip. "Angel's sick. She won't talk anymore."

I suppress my laugh, knowing Olivia is dead serious, even though I think it's utterly ridiculous. "We can fix her. We have to operate and we'll replace her batteries."

"Will she be okay?"

I pull her close and whisper in her ear the words I know she needs to hear. "I'm your guardian angel. I'm your special friend."

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