Cold Feet
Jezyk
Spoilers: Anything current
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine.

AN: Fluff alert!

Elliot Stabler was not made for single life. That was the sole determination he made following several hours of soul searching while burrowing under every blanket he owned, which sadly was a grand total of three - including his fitted sheet. His bulky, thick muscles were designed to be wrapped securely around a woman, providing her with security while she provided him with heat. It was a little known fact, probably completely unknown considering that he doubted even Kathy knew, but Elliot always got cold at night, especially his feet. Hardly the manliest thing about him, he'd taken to wrapping his feet up in every available inch of the blanket when he went to sleep since his divorce. He'd die of embarrassment if anyone ever found out, but Elliot couldn't close his eyes without his feet tucked in.

Unfortunately for Elliot and his temperature dependent neurosis, the heat wasn't working in his apartment. His training in the Marines had given him the mental fortitude to assess the situation rationally despite his ridiculous fear of being cold. He'd known after watching the news that he wouldn't actually freeze to death. He'd assured himself that he was perfectly fine, reminded himself that there was no one he could call without dying of mortification unless he was actually going to freeze to death, and settled in for the night.

The weather had been so warm he hadn't even bothered with a jacket all day, but the temperature in his apartment seemed somehow unrelated. It was freezing. He tried to sleep anyway, telling himself that sleeping would be the fastest way to make the morning come. But he kept imagining an annoyed Olivia finally coming to look for him when he was late for work and discovering his dead body, frozen solid in his bed.

It was for Liv, he rationalized as he got up and hastily dressed; Liv shouldn't have to be the one to find him.

The thought process actually carried him all the way to her place. He stopped along to way to buy her coffee and remembered three blocks later that she didn't drink coffee anymore. He stopped at the next place and tried to buy her tea, but soon discovered there were an impossible number of types of tea, which sadly, didn't sound familiar. So he decided he'd give her the coffee as a peace offering and beg for mercy.

It was a little after one when his hand fell against her door. Although he was usually asleep by then, he expected that Olivia would still be up. She could go days at a time without sleep and not be tired, so he didn't figure he was really disturbing her. And still, he found himself raising his hand to knock a second time. He heard a noise inside the door and knew she was checking the peephole.

"It's me, Liv. Open up." He heard the latch turn and the chain lock slide free. The door opened slowly, revealing a very sleepy looking Olivia, complete with rumpled hair, droopy eyes, and a ratty, oversized nightshirt. Elliot couldn't help but think the only thing missing was a well-loved teddy bear in her hand and she'd have been the cutest thing he'd ever seen.

"El?" The confusion in her half-closed eyes only added to Elliot's urge to ruffle her hair.

Luckily for his physical well being, he resisted it. "Can I come in?"

She looked around as she stepped back to open the door. Consciousness finally dawned on her. "What's wrong?"

He felt guilty for waking her, knowing that despite appearances, she never got quite enough sleep. "My heater's not working." He felt stupid too, admitting his selfish reason for waking her.

She wrapped her arms around herself at the thought. "You want to sleep here?"

He nodded eagerly and stepped inside. "I'll take the couch if that's ok."

Olivia stared at the couch for a long time, so long in fact, that Elliot started to think she was going to change her mind about her invitation. But then she looked at him with a sympathetic face. "I don't have any spare blankets."

He stared at her dumbly, much the way he would have had she mentioned that she was actually from Mars. Sure, he didn't have any blankets, but he was a recently divorced man. Olivia was a woman and, judging from Kathy, he'd thought having spare blankets for guests was encoded into her DNA. "How is that possible?"

Olivia didn't seem the slightest bit embarrassed when she answered. "My overnight guests don't sleep on the couch."

It could have been that Elliot was a bit out of from his earlier attempts to sleep. It could have been that her adorably flustered appearance had suddenly and without warning descended into irrefutable allure. It could have been that her eyes, heavy-lidded from sleep looked a lot like eyes heavy-lidded from desire.

Whatever it was, Elliot could only stare open-mouthed and wonder if she was coming on to him. The thought was alarming.

Even more alarming, Elliot realized, was the simple fact that he really, really hoped she was.

Apparently not expecting an answer, Liv started toward her bedroom. "It's not that cold. I'm sure you'll be fine."

She had already disappeared into her bedroom before he remembered the lukewarm coffee he had in his hands. He poured it down the drain in the sink. He hadn't needed a peace offering; she hadn't minded his interruption. He made himself comfortable on the couch. At least, he tried for quite a while. It was considerably warmer there since her heat was functioning, but as he lay there, staring at the ceiling, he knew it was no use. It wouldn't matter how warm it was. He wouldn't sleep unless his feet were tucked in.

Taking a deep breath, he found his way to Olivia's bedroom. He'd never been there before and had never given any thought to what it might look like, but between Kathy and the girls' and his sisters' bedrooms, he figured it was a requisite that the bedroom be over-decorated and cluttered and contain at least four entirely different flower patterns or candle arrangements. But Olivia's room was nothing like that.

Knowing her as well as he did, had he been forced to guess what her bedroom might look like, he probably would have come up with something quite accurate. The room was free of clutter. There was a dresser, a bed, a nightstand. The curtains were a plain neutral color, probably beige, but Elliot couldn't be sure with the tint of the street light shining on them. The walls were a similar shade. The furniture was a dark wood, boxy, and entirely unremarkable. The bed was covered with a plain cotton blanket, not the thick comforter kind Kathy preferred. The blanket was a muted green, really the only color in the room. The bedroom was functional, easy to navigate after a long day at work when she was too tired to turn on the light. There were no personal touches - no framed photos or prints on the walls. But Elliot knew they were unnecessary. Olivia carried everything personal inside of her.

Altogether, the room that at face value was less individual than a hotel room somehow seemed exactly right for her. She wouldn't want people knowing anything about her by seeing her room; it would make her feel violated. The only things Olivia wanted people to know about her were the things she told them and, mostly, Olivia told people very little. Elliot smiled to himself, realizing that even without those homey touches, her room was inviting.

Afraid that she would wake up and find him staring, he coughed softly in an attempt to wake her without scaring her. She stirred in her bed, but that was all. "Liv." He spoke quietly and was rewarded with her head turning. Her eyes didn't open though so he crept across the room and squatted down next to her. "Liv."

Her eyes opened that time, blinking sleepily at him. "El?" She closed them again for a moment before she woke up fully with a start. "What?" She glanced around, trying to figure out why he was in her room.

It wasn't until he saw her shift backwards that he noticed how very close he was to her. He hadn't meant to freak her out or make her think something inappropriate had cross his mind, but even as he tried not to think about it, the idea of how completely kissable she looked occurred to him. His eyes widened and his jaw clenched as he turned away until he could face her without fearing he was going to kiss her without an invitation. He cleared his throat awkwardly, utterly terrified that his thoughts were written across his face. "I know you don't have any spare blankets, but what about an extra sheet?"

Her sleepy gaze narrowed at him, her face a picture of deep concentration. He suspected she'd have had the same look if he'd told her the fate of the universe depended on her answer. She didn't actually respond, though, and he started to wonder if she was asleep with her eyes open.

"Liv?"

The thoughtful look vanished behind one he was much more familiar with - sheer annoyance. "No, Elliot, I don't have extra sheets or blankets or pillows. It's almost sixty degrees. What the hell do you need a blanket for?"

Shockingly, Elliot's recently unearthed desire to kiss her hadn't faded any, not even with her angry words. He wondered how she'd react if he gave in - if she'd recoil and slap him or let him and then be mad or maybe even respond in kind and kiss him back. He was very, very tempted to try it and that thought told him he desperately needed sleep. If, after he got a few hours of rest, he still wanted to kiss her, well, he could deal with that then.

Olivia propped herself up on her elbow, concern at Elliot's atypically pensive mood. "Elliot, what's wrong?"

He shook his head, trying to dislodge the crazy idea. But it wouldn't budge. He knew himself well enough to recognize that he absolutely needed to get away from her or he would do it and he also recognized that he had to figure out whether or not it was a good idea before he went ahead with it. His preoccupation with controlling his libido overwhelmed his urge not to embarrass himself. "I'm cold."

And then it was Olivia's turn to be dumbfounded and stare blankly at her partner. She recovered faster than he had and shrugged as she stretched herself back out to sleep. "I don't know what to tell you, El."

As soon as she closed her eyes, Elliot felt the same urge he always felt when she walked away or a conversation ended - he needed to find a way to engage her, to keep her with him a little longer. "Liv?"

Her eyes opened again and, for a split second, Elliot feared that her gun was within reach. "What?" She wasn't amused and she was rather grumpy when she wasn't allowed to sleep. Elliot realized he was filing away the information for future reference, as though there might be other times when he'd be pestering her in the middle of the night. When he called her to work in the wee hours, it was usually a good half hour before he had to deal with her and apparently that half hour was very important time to keep her from biting his head off.

He tried his best to smile charmingly at her, knowing both that she was usually nice to men who tried charm and that he was much more skilled with intimidation than charm. "If you're so warm that you don't need a blanket, can I have yours?"

Her irritated stare faded and, even though it was dark, Elliot could have sworn there was a pink tinge in her cheeks. "No." Her voice sounded small and embarrassed, not at all like her normal, authoritative self.

"Why not?" He grinned for real, knowing he was on to something.

She tightened the blanket around her shoulders and snuggled into it. "Because my feet get cold without a blanket."

Elliot nearly burst out laughing at her confession. As it was, he'd already pretty much decided that Olivia was the only one on Earth who could ever understand him and put up with him and know what he needed. But with her words, he was struck by the blinding fact that she had to be his soul mate. Now, he wasn't the sort to believe in that kind of thing, and neither was she, but they simply had too many things in common for anything else to explain their relationship. And realizing that just made him want to kiss her again.

"El?" She waited a beat before she continued. "What are you looking at?"

He heard her question. He understood the words. He knew he should stop looking at her lips until he could concentrate on what she was saying. And then he realized what she'd asked. He swallowed hard and dragged his eyes off her mouth. "Huh?" Playing dumb had never worked on her in the past, but there was something about being caught with his hand in the cookie jar that caused him to fall back on the same stupid, ineffective idea.

Her eyes burned into his for a long time, during which he made a silent confession for any transgressions and prayed that she'd be merciful when she killed him. But after long silence, she didn't reach for her gun. She only nodded toward the empty half of her bed. "Come on."

He thought she was making fun of him. He thought she was kidding. He thought he was misunderstanding her. There was no way she'd just asked him to sleep with her. He shook his head and mentally corrected himself. There was no way she'd just asked him to get in bed with her. He shook his head again. No matter how he tried to think of it, it wasn't going to get any better. And his body's unexpected response to the suggestion made him think that he should go back to the living room and stay far away from Olivia Benson until he could figure out what the hell was going on with him.

But as he panicked, he saw that she was watching him, waiting for a response. "What?"

She rolled her eyes. "You're not going to let me go to sleep unless I give you my blanket and I'm not going to give you my blanket, so if I want any sleep, I guess I'm going to have to share." She scooted away from him, pushing herself onto the far side of the bed and leaving the covers pulled back on the warm spot she'd been occupying. "Come on, El, it's cold."

He didn't want to give her a chance to change her mind. He slipped off his shoes and climbed in bed beside her, unsure of whether it was a good thing or not that her back was to him. "It's almost sixty degrees, Liv."

She reached behind herself, swatting at him. "Shut up or I'll kick you out."

He couldn't be sure where he found the nerve, but he caught her hand and held it as he shifted over against her back. His arm came to rest over hers, his face pressed into her hair. "Night, Liv."

Her body stiffened for a moment as she processed the new information, but then she relaxed. She shifted slightly until she was comfortable and kept hold of his hand. "Night, El."

Elliot smiled against her neck with only two thoughts in his head as he drifted off to sleep. The first one was that kissing her would definitely be a good idea and he had every intention of seeing to that in the morning. The second one was that he would be quite disappointed when his heater got fixed because he much preferred the replacement.

finis