The flowers are on her desk before she gets into the office. It's a brilliant display. Not the typical display of red roses, but one of warmth: deep maroon, fiery oranges, lush purples, and exciting greens. Olivia catches sight of it on her desk through the windows before she crosses the threshold to her office, pausing with her coat half-removed. She turns back toward the squad room.
"Who signed for these?"
"I did." Carisi speaks up, looking over at her from his computer.
"Who are they from?"
"I dunno. There's a card but didn't read it. Figured that was getting a little too personal."
"'Kay, thanks," Olivia drawls, shrugging out of her jacket and heading into her office. She plucks the card from the plastic holder and peers down to decipher the scrawl.
To the woman who has cultivated such a beautiful life for herself, - Yours, Always
here's a little more love on a day that's dedicated to it.
Happy Valentine's Day, Liv. You deserve all of this & more.
Absently worrying her bottom lip, she sinks down behind her desk and unlocks her computer, glancing at the card that's now laying next to her keyboard every now and again until she can pull Google up and type in the name of the florist that she found at the bottom of the card.
Flowers by Blooming Affairs. East Broadway. Not far from Pete's, where she and the squad have been spending a few of their evenings for as long as she can remember. Way before Captain was a thought in her mind.
It has to be someone close to home, Olivia concludes as she closes out the search window. She runs through the possibilities time and time again as she shuffles through her email, an unfortunate administrative part of her new set of responsibilities.
She moves on to reviewing her detective's reports, finding it particularly difficult to stay focused. Every now and again she realizes she's staring at the bouquet instead of her computer, completely lost in thought. Absent mindedly, she rubs the card between forefinger and thumb. It's five more minutes before she's standing from her seat, slipping her jacket back on.
"You need me, call me," Liv calls to Carisi on her way out, not bothering to stick around for his response.
-
She flashes her badge for a little more leverage and fewer questions before sliding the card across the counter to the man who stands behind it.
"I'm going to need all the information you can provide about who sent these flowers, delivered approximately eight-fifteen this morning."
The man, rather unimpressed, glances down at the card Olivia's slid to him and then back up at her. She can already tell that her badge carries no weight here.
"That's not my handwriting."
Inhale. Exhale.
"So then whose handwriting is it?"
He raises a brow. Opens his mouth, thinks better of it, and closes it for a second. "We in some kinda trouble here?"
"I just need to know who sent these flowers." Olivia speaks plainly, trying to seem as casual as possible despite her own personal desperation to quell this curiosity.
He stares at her for a long second before leaning back. "Ay, Bernice!"
A lovely woman appears from the back, clutching a couple of flowers in her left hand.
"This lady's lookin' for whoever sent these flowers." He holds up the card for Bernice to examine. She reaches out to take it. "Delivery. Eight-fifteen this morning, ah—"
He glances over to Olivia and she provides the address for the precinct.
Bernice sets the flowers down gingerly upon the counter, glances at the card, and then over to Olivia. She smiles. "Let's see what we can do for you, shall we?"
"Thank you," Olivia smiles just as Bernice disappears, bending down to pull a folder with their records.
"You said it was a delivery from today?"
"Yes," Olivia nods. "Around eight-fifteen this morning. It was ah—quite a large arrangement." She pulls her phone out to show Bernice a picture of the flowers that had been sent to her, figuring it was like looking for a needle in a haystack considering they're one day off from Valentine's Day.
"Ah!" Bernice immediately hums with recognition. "I took the order and arranged this one myself." She goes silent for a second, filing through the receipts until she finds what she's looking for. Her face falls.
"Mm. No name. Paid in cash." Bernice slides the receipt over to Olivia for her to see for herself.
"Okay," Olivia sighs, glancing up to the ceiling, the corners of the shop. "Do you have any cameras?"
"Oh, no, dear. I'm afraid we don't. I could have sworn she told me her name, but I just can't seem to recall it… we get so many people in and out of the shop, I'm sure you understand," Bernice chuckles in good nature.
Olivia perks up just a bit. "You remember this person?"
"Oh yes. I remember thinking to myself when she came in that it was one of those wealthy women who think they're too good for you, you know? As if their money is a gift we should be grateful for! But she was just lovely. And such good taste!"
It feels as if Olivia's heart is ready to jump out of her chest.
"Can you give me a description?"
"Um… she was very tall," Bernice begins after a moment. "Well dressed. Good style. Blonde. Kind. Took quite a while to decide on the arrangement, and… goodness, that's all I can recall."
"Thank you, Bernice. You've been very helpful. Thank you. Thank you so much."
It's with a shaky hand that Olivia pulls her cell phone from her coat pocket, holding the phone up to her ear.
"Miss—don't—don't forget your card!"
But it's too late. Olivia's already through the door, her heartbeat pounding in her ears making it difficult for her to hear much of anything else.
"Amanda?" Olivia swallows hard. "I need you to do me a favor. I need you to run a name and get me an address, okay? And uh… keep this between us."
-
Olivia rings the bell and steps back on the stone stairs outside of a duplex. It's eight-thirty and from what she can see, nobody's home. The inside seems to be just as dark as it is outside. All is quiet with no indication of life from within. Oliva's gloved hand hovers over the bell as she contemplates ringing it once more for good measure when she sees some movement through the glass. Slowly but surely a figure looms closer and closer until a series of locks being drawn back from their housing. Olivia stuffs her hand back into her pocket just as the door opens.
It's like she's seeing a ghost. One she's been haunted by so many times over the years.
"Liv?" Alex sniffles, bringing a hand up to her red eyes to wipe at the tears that fill them. "What are you doing here?"
Upon hearing Alex's question, Olivia remembers she has to breathe.
"You… you sent me flowers," Olivia exhales, her own eyes growing glassy with tears unshed. Her hands itch to reach out and touch Alex, to make sure that this isn't just some figment of her imagination. She half expects that she's going to wake up any minute now. Par for the course these days. Her dreams are where Alexandra Cabot has solely existed for quite some time now. Instead, Olivia's hands remain in her pockets, her hands balled into fists.
If this is a dream, she isn't ready to wake up. Not yet.
"I didn't think you'd track me down."
"I'm a cop, Alex."
"So that means you can't let someone send you a harmless bouquet?"
"Were you going to tell me?"
The question hangs heavy in the air between them. Alex's silence is enough to pull bittersweet laughter out of Olivia. She nods, Alex's silence being the only answer she needs.
"Gotcha. Sorry for interrupting your night."
Olivia turns on her heels to leave and makes it down four stairs.
"Olivia—wait."
She stops, staring straight ahead while waiting for Alex to say whatever it is she needs to say.
"You… you have a family. You're Captain now, I—"
"What does any of that have to do with us, Alex?!" Olivia huffs, turning around to look up at her, each word laced with venom that's well justified. "Sending me an expensive arrangement of fucking flowers doesn't justify you spending the past twenty years treating my life like it's some kind of revolving door." Olivia pulls her hands from her pockets, holding them out for a moment before they hang at her side. It's clear she's at a complete and total loss in more ways than one.
"But this isn't about me, or us," Olivia huffs bitterly. "This is about you and your feelings. You anonymously send me a couple flowers that'll die in a few weeks along with a neat little note and think you can pat yourself on the back, that you're somehow vindicated for everything else you've done. It doesn't matter how I feel." There's a hint of defeat in Olivia's tone. "It never did."
It's then that Alex decides to break her silence.
"That is not fair."
Olivia scoffs. "You wanna talk about fair?"
"Olivia, I know that I've hurt you. I am very aware of that. But you know that your feelings matter to me. How could you—" Already primed and ready to go before Olivia even rang the bell, Alex cuts herself off, choking back a wave of fresh tears that threaten to fall.
"What do you want me to say? You couldn't even send me a text, an email, something. It's not exactly like I'm hard to find. I'm not the one who left." Again, and again, and again.
"I don't know where I fit in to your life anymore, Liv!" Alex exclaims loud enough to rattle even Olivia's bones. "You have a son—you have a career. I don't recognize half the faces at the precinct," Alex spits it all out in quick succession. "It was easier, before," she adds, softer now. "We had our jobs and we had each other. There was room for me. Now? You have this—this beautiful life, Olivia. So yes, I made the coward's choice. Because I don't want to swoop in and screw everything up again. Your feelings matter to me. Of course your feelings matter to me." She's openly crying now. "When has there ever been anything else?"
There it is.
For someone who spent so long crafting the most eloquent arguments in the courtroom, Alexandra Cabot sure does have quite a habit of putting her foot in her mouth.
Olivia swallows hard and moves up one step, then another. When she speaks, it's soft. Nothing like it was moments ago, the vitriol gone.
"Whether or not I have space for you in my life isn't for you to decide, Alex. It's for me to decide. And it's not a decision I can make when I don't even know you're here."
"I know that," Alex sniffles, reaching up to swipe at the tears that stain her cheeks.
Olivia's in much of the same state, tears glistening in her brown eyes. "So then ask me."
There's another heavy pause. Olivia can hear the footfalls of someone walking past, but all she sees is Alexandra Cabot. She needs Alex to do this for her. Having been left so vulnerable and hurt so many times by her in the past, she needs Alex to be the one to step into those shoes this time. Her aching heart can only take so much.
The question is so quiet that Olivia barely catches it. It's like this is the question that's finally broken Alex, forcing her to face all of her fears and insecurities that have accumulated after years of destruction that's occurred between them. Olivia has to take another step, leaving just one more before she's level with Alex.
"I can't hear you." It's a lie, but one Alex deserves after everything. She can see the way Alex's jaw clench. Alex knows it, too.
"Do you have room for me?" she asks, more forceful with the kind of purposeful reluctance that makes Olivia smile.
"How long are you here for this time?"
Alex manages her response through a stuffed nose, still crying. "For the foreseeable future."
Olivia nods, considering this information. "In my life or in my heart?"
"What?" Alex's brow furrows and Olivia knows that if the situation were different, she'd be asking Olivia what kind of question that is. But she doesn't have to. She's never had to. They've always done this, being able to read each other with very little effort.
Olivia takes that one last step, leaving them relatively level with Alex still lingering in her doorway. It's only now that Olivia catches her fuzzy pink heart socks, black sweats, and rumpled gray sweatshirt. Behold the veritable Ice Queen of the sixteenth precinct.
"Are you asking me if I have room for you in my life… or my heart?"
When the realization clicks, that expression on Alex's face only intensifies. "Both?"
Olivia finds herself nodding again, seriously considering Alex's question now. There is only one answer. There will only ever be one answer when it comes to Alexandra Cabot. All the heartache and the pain. All of the anger and the loss. Olivia's the kind of person who believes it's been leading them up to this moment. Right here, right now.
Because without reaching out to clutch onto that little glimmer of hope, all of this—Olivia's entire life—will have been for nothing.
She takes a step. And then another. Until she finds herself face to face with Alex in all her glory: messy hair, red eyes to match her red nose, tears glistening on her cheeks whenever they catch in the dim light just so.
"I might have to do some rearranging, but I think I can find some room for you somewhere."
Alex blinks a few times, another fresh wave of tears taking over her. "Really?"
Her tone is enough to convey to Olivia that she was expecting the opposite. It suddenly clicks for her, how convinced Alex was that Olivia was completely and totally through with her, and it causes Olivia to shatter all over again.
"Yes." Olivia has to blink back the tears that are so close to falling, her vision blurred so badly that at this point, all Alex has become is a blurry figure. She's sure there's poetic meaning in there somewhere. "Really, Alex."
A few moments of silence pass where they simply stare at each other, taking in all of the changes the years have brought and the ways in which some things remain still so painfully familiar.
It's Alex who moves first. And in that action is all the information that Olivia needs. Because it's always been Olivia being vulnerable, making the first move, bridging the gap between them. When Alex reaches out for her, Olivia finds herself thinking that things might actually be different this time around.
Alex's hands are so warm upon her cheeks, such a stark contrast to the cold that's been stinging her. Her lips are insistent. She tastes of chocolate and comfort and of everything that Olivia has ever thought of when considering what the word "home" means to her. And when Olivia finally wraps her arms around Alex's waist to keep her close, she promises that this next time—if there is a next time—she won't let Alex go as easily as she has in the past.
Maybe she's not so blameless, after all.
The way Alex clutches onto her tells her that maybe, just maybe, this is the last time she'll ever have to ask her these questions: if Alex is back, how long she's here to stay for this time. Maybe this is the last time years will exist between kisses, and now they'll only have to suffer through hours or, at worst, days.
When they break apart, they're both breathless and teary-eyed. Olivia refuses to let go of Alex, and Alex refuses to let go of Olivia.
"Can you come inside?" Alex murmurs quietly through her sniffles, making no move to put any distance between them now that it's been conquered. "If I stay out here much longer I think my toes might fall off."
Olivia drops her gaze just in time to see Alex wiggling her toes in those fuzzy socks and she can't help but laugh. All this softness has to be one of New York's best kept secrets.
"I ah—I'm working… Al."
Alex looks like she just witnessed someone kick a puppy. And, as it turns out, it doesn't feel as good as Olivia thought it would.
"…but I might be able to make a call."
"Yeah?"
Olivia offers Alex a soft smile, a nod. "Yeah."
And Alex, tentative in both her smile and her movements, pulls away from Olivia only to take her by the hand.
"You sure I'm not interrupting your night?" Olivia asks, recalling the way Alex had looked when she'd opened the door a few minutes earlier: like she'd moved from one emotional moment to dive headfirst into another.
"I was just watching a movie."
"What movie?"
"Love Actually."
Olivia snorts while Alex moves to lead her inside. "A Christmas movie? It's February. Even the Hallmark channel isn't getting started this early."
"It isn't a Christmas movie. It's a Christmas-themed romantic movie. There's no particular season for romance, Liv."
As Olivia steps over the threshold and closes the door behind her, she hopes Alex is right. She hopes that this time around their romance makes it beyond the evening on the day that comes but once a year, reserved to celebrate romance and love.
And oh… does she plan to celebrate.