Christmas Peace
Jezyk
Spoilers: Anything current
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine.
AN: Although I've written untold numbers of stories for other fandoms, this is my first SVU fic. Be gentle!
Olivia Benson didn't like holidays in general, Christmas in particular. There were no other holidays that left her feeling quite so alone as the merry-making which consumed the entire world at Christmas time. It always seemed that her friends, even the single ones who miraculously found a significant other immediately after Thanksgiving, had something special to do on Christmas Eve and, more importantly, someone special with whom to do that something special. Without her mother, she didn't even have anyone left to buy a gift for, especially since Elliot's kids had grown up and she and Elliot barely spoke anymore.
She sat down on her couch with a shot of rum in her hand and the bottle waiting to provide her with more on the coffee table. She'd bought it for the eggnog, but she'd decided drinking eggnog alone on Christmas Eve was indescribably worse than doing shots of rum alone on Christmas Eve. If nothing else, it would be less unpleasant if the rum got the better of her and she spent the wee hours of Christmas morning praying to the porcelain god.
Olivia usually managed to find a way to work through the holiday, but Cragen was leery of burning her out again, since the typically astute man had managed to not realize that burn out had absolutely nothing to do with her repeated escape attempts over the last year, and he'd more or less thrown her out of the unit a little after six. The absurd number of people still out shopping had caused her trip home to take almost an hour. Once home, she made herself inner and put in a movie to avoid watching excessively jolly newscasters wish her an impersonal season's greetings, or worse, some hideously uplifting Christmas movie that would make her want to eat her gun.
But the movie was over and the rum was making her particularly amenable to depressing holiday musings. She tried to push Elliot, and the minefield that was their relationship, to the back of her mind, but the rum had other ideas, and she had a sad few other things to muse about. As she poured back another shot and looked around the dark room she hadn't bothered to decorate, she realized with alarming clarity why there were so many suicides at Christmas. Because it could really be unbearable. She shook her head and reminded herself that everything would be better in the morning because she could go to work - since Cragen probably wouldn't be there to send her home. She drank a little more in an effort to forget there was a holiday going on.
She cursed the rum as her mind filled with memories of her history with Elliot. Most of it had been good, qualified by the circumstances of their partnership in dealing with some of the most horrifying cases known to man. They'd always had a tendency to fight, to be at each other's throats, especially when they were tired, but there had always been an undercurrent of trust and respect between them. She never once doubted that he'd have her back even if they had been fighting. And then he'd started pulling away, closing himself off to her - not that he'd ever been open, but it was still obvious enough to feel the cold shoulder or the inexplicable anger or the complete indifference he'd turned on her.
Once she found out about his separation from Kathy, it made more sense. Unless she looked at it closely. She would have expected him to be upset and emotional during such a trying time, but then she would have expected him to lean on her as a friend rather than pushing her away.
The one thing she couldn't get her head around was the simple fact that it felt like he was divorcing her too. The more time went by, the more the analogy seemed to fit. For a time there, right after the Gitano case, after he told her he didn't want to care about her anymore, she couldn't deal with him at all. She needed to be as far away from him as she could be. The few times she'd talked to him during her foray into computer crimes had been stilted and weird and left her feeling guilty, even thought he'd really been the one to walk away, at least emotionally. As hard as that had been, she'd really needed the time. They'd really needed the time.
But then she'd gone on that wild goose chase for the feds and she'd missed him. Truly missed him. In fact, she'd missed him so much she had mistakenly thought everything would be better when she went home. She'd expected that he'd missed her too. She couldn't get back fast enough. She couldn't wait to see him and work with him and move on from their separation.
Only he'd moved on while she was gone. She'd never felt a knife so sharp as the day she'd met Dani. In that moment, she'd know how Kathy had always felt - and it only got worse when she saw them from Cragen's office. Dani was a part of his world in a way she wasn't anymore and, if she judged from his entirely too relaxed and friendly body language, Dani was a part of his world in a way she never had been.
And every day since Dani had left, Olivia sat down across from the partner she feared would never truly be hers again and met the eyes that still seemed disappointed to discover that it was only her. In that way too, she felt like his ex-wife - they'd had something magic between them once, but it was gone and it seemed wrong to try to force it back. Except, Olivia miserably admitted to herself as she drank another shot, she wanted him back so badly that she didn't know what else to do.
She swiped angrily at the tears that fell without her permission. He was sure as shit not crying over her and therefore she refused to cry over him. If he didn't need her, she wasn't going to admit to needing him, not even to herself.
The knock at the door startled her, so much so that she spilled some of her drink in her lap. Yes, shots were meant to be swallowed whole, but after more than she could remember, Olivia took to sipping them like a cocktail. She grabbed a towel from the kitchen and was dabbing at the damp spot on her thigh when she pulled the door open. Unfortunately, the rum consumption had taken a toll on her coordination, causing her to drop the towel at the same time.
"Shit." She bent down to get it, nearly smacked her head into the door frame, and lost her balance trying to spare herself a head injury. By the time she was right again, she'd nearly forgotten why she'd opened the door in the first place, until she realized Elliot was standing before her with one eyebrow cocked and a grin on his face.
"Is that how you usually answer the door?" His tone was flat and even, belying the attempt at a joke.
"What are you doing here?" Belatedly remember to move out of the way so he could get in, Olivia tried to fake a better mood than she was in. "Weren't you going to have the kids tonight?" Or had he said Christmas Day? She couldn't recall since she'd barely been listening at the time. She hated hearing Christmas plans.
Elliot was barely inside the door, leaning on the wall as though standing up took too much out of him. "Kathy's seeing someone."
Olivia was frozen, trying to recover from the shock - not that Kathy was seeing someone, but that Elliot had actually told her something personal and painful. She could feel the pain he was in and it reminded her of how she felt seeing him with Dani. "I'm sorry. Did you just find out?"
"She told the kids not to tell me." His eyes met hers, burning into her for an explanation as if she'd been the one to betray him.
"Maybe she didn't want to hurt you." It was the best she could do. She'd never been married and had no idea how she'd go about telling her ex-husband that she was seeing someone new, although she somehow doubted she'd rope her children into lying to him for her.
He stormed into the living room and flopped down on her couch. "Did she really think it would hurt less if I found out she'd been keeping it from me?"
She didn't have an answer and she was frankly too surprised he was confiding in her to think of one. She closed the door and followed him into the other room. "Does this have something to do with you not having the kids?" She tucked her feet under her, pushing aside her urge to lament her own misery. If she shut him out, it could easily be years before he really talked to her again.
"Bastard surprised Kathy with a trip to Florida. The six of them are in Orlando for the week."
Ouch. That hurt. She could see why he was so upset. "But if Kathy didn't know, at least she didn't lie to you, right?"
"He's trying to steal my kids. Win them over by taking them to Disney World."
Olivia grimaced. Anything Disney was nauseating. "Aren't they a little old for that?" Even if it wasn't nauseating for kids who'd had a happy childhood, the four kids were well beyond believing in princesses and giant talking mice.
Elliot only shrugged, sighing dejectedly. They sat in silence for several minutes until Elliot looked around. "Isn't it kind of dark in here?"
The darkness suited her mood, but rather than draw attention to it, Olivia reached over to switch on the light. "Better?"
Elliot continued to look around, his keen eyes catching both the complete lack of decorations and the bottle of rum on the table. His face revealed alarm when he caught her eyes, but the words seemed to die on his lips. His brow furrowed as he scrutinized her. "Are you crying?"
Damn. She squeezed her eyes closed, berating herself for turning on the light. "I'm fine."
He didn't look away. His concern didn't fade. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I said I'm fine." She didn't know why she was pushing him away, just like she always did, when he seemed to actually be interested. But then she remembered why he was there. She knew it wasn't because he'd wanted to talk to her about his problems; it was that he'd be hard pressed to find someone else willing to listen on Christmas Eve.
Olivia didn't believe in true love or happily ever after, but a cold, hard truth clamped down on her heart in that instant - just once in her life, she wanted to be someone's first choice companion on Christmas Eve. The unexpected pain of that realization brought fresh tears to her eyes and she looked away quickly. She couldn't explain it if he asked because he'd think she resented his kids and that wasn't the point at all.
"Liv?"
Her nickname, soft and gentle on his lips for the first time in a long time, threatened to be her undoing. She clenched her jaw and told herself that in only twenty-four hours the world would be back to its wonderful and familiar unhappiness and she could feel much less disconnected from all of humanity. She tried to think of something to say, some way to let him know he should leave without being rude. Nothing came to her. Nothing would have made it past the lump in her throat anyway. Probably because she really didn't want him to go. She sincerely missed those old Christmas Eves when she could call her mother and hug Elliot and not feel so utterly alone. But since her mother's death and the metaphorical divorce from Elliot, she just felt hurt and lonely.
She nearly jumped when his hand touched her hair, carefully tucking it behind her ear. He'd moved closer at some point and was right next to her. Once of his hands braced against the back of the couch; the other lingered by her chin in case she tried to turn away.
"What's going on? What's wrong, Liv?" His eyes held hers in a way they hadn't for years. He was worried about her. It wasn't fake or forced and that amazed her.
She tried to look away, to hide how much his concern meant to her, but his hand was there, waiting, perfectly positioned to keep her facing him. She closed her eyes and shrugged, hating herself for being so weak and revealing so much. "I had too much to drunk, Elliot."
He offered half a smile for her efforts, but he wasn't about to let her go. "I've seen you drunk before. You don't usually start bawling." Even though he was smiling, his eyes assured her that she wasn't getting out of the conversation until he was good and ready to let her out of it.
"It's Christmas Eve and I had too much to drink."
He pointedly looked around the room. "Christmas Eve? Yeah, I can tell you really went overboard with the decorations."
"I wasn't expecting company." She'd meant for her response to be flippant and amusing, but the words were true and it caught her by surprise that Elliot noticed.
"I'm sorry, Liv."
She shrugged again and sat back. Her left shoulder wound up resting on his right hand and she expected him to move away, but he didn't, leaving her to feel like she was sitting less than a respectable distance from him. It occurred to her then, as it tended to do at the most awkward and inopportune times, that he smelled really, really good. She looked down, hoping to hide the flush of arousal that always followed the awareness of his cologne. As her eyes moved down, she caught sight of his arm, still flexed to support him and she realized once again how terribly strong he was. Her drunken mind didn't need anything else to conjure up the idea of being held in those strong arms, inhaling that intoxicating smell up close, feeling his lips brush across her hair. She shook her head and vehemently denied to herself that her cheeks were flaming red from the thought.
If there was one thing that Olivia was bound and determined to disavow, it was the simple, inexorable fact that she'd managed to fall in love with Elliot while they were falling apart. Or maybe it was simply that she'd finally noticed her feelings for him when he started pulling away.
A fresh wave of tears followed the thought and she reached up to wipe at them. It was so unlike her to fall apart, especially in front of him, and she absolutely despised the fact that it was happening right then. But before she could hide the evidence, his hand was there, gently wiping away her tears in a sweet manner that seemed to her as out of character for him as her tears must have to him.
His hand remained there, cupping her cheek. His face was intimately close. His voice was softer than she'd ever heard. "Talk to me."
She suddenly wanted to tell him, to show him that part of her, to trust him with her seriously flawed heart that belonged entirely to him. But the words wouldn't come. She swallowed hard and resigned herself to letting the opportunity pass her by.
Elliot sat back, pulling his hands back into his lap. His sigh was heavy, dejected, sad. "I should go."
She looked up sharply, her earlier wish that he would do just that disappearing with the threat of it coming true. "No, stay." She saw the uncertainty in his eyes. "Have a drink."
He topped off the glass she'd spilled and held it. "It's not like I have anywhere else to go."
She watched him as he stared at the glass without drinking it. He looked back at her after a long silence and she ducked away. He probably hadn't meant it. She doubted he would say something that cruel, not when he wasn't even mad, but his words cut her to the quick. She already knew he was there because he had nowhere else to go. She didn't understand why he had to remind her of that.
Eventually, he set the glass back down. Olivia expected that he was about to protest the idea of staying, claiming that he'd rather be anywhere else. And then his hand closed around hers. "I miss you."
She was fairly certain the rum was playing tricks on her. She couldn't be sure her ears didn't need to be cleaned out. She was afraid to look at him, afraid to let him see the hope she felt for what she'd heard. She wasn't even sure if that light pressure on her hand was really from his fingers trying to weave between hers. "What?"
He scooted closer to her until their thighs were in contact. Then he cupped her chin once again and guided her to face him. "My partner is hurting and she doesn't trust me enough to tell me what's wrong."
She shook her head. "It's not that." But it was and she could hardly say the words, let alone make them believable.
"Please?"
She couldn't even remember the last time he'd said please to her. She couldn't even remember the last time he'd been sincerely interested in something she had to say. Or maybe it was that she couldn't remember when she'd believed he was. She couldn't deny him. She couldn't let the chance slip away again. "I miss you too." She saw the acceptance in his eyes, the plea for her to continue, and she couldn't stop the words from falling out. "You told me once that work and me were all you had left-" She paused for a moment, seeing his eyes harden the slightest bit at her words. "But I never had a family, Elliot. You were all I ever had." She turned away, so quickly that his hand couldn't even react in time to stop her. She hadn't meant to say it. She hadn't meant to get that close. He was still smarting over his wife; the last thing he was ready to hear was her profession of love.
When his hand loosened from hers, she almost whimpered. She didn't want to scare him away. She'd settle for just having his friendship back the way it had been.
Then he brought both of his hands to her face, cupping her cheeks, forcing her to look at him. His eyes seemed to shimmer, almost wet with tears. "I never meant to hurt you, Liv. I had to push you away."
"Why?" Because, really, that was what she'd spent so many months agonizing over.
"Because I was afraid it was too obvious. After Gitano, after I saw him cut you, god, Liv, I thought I would die when I saw you fall." His eyes squeezed closed as he recalled the terrifying seconds. "And then I panicked. I was afraid you knew. I was afraid everyone knew. I was afraid people could tell just by looking at me."
Maybe it was the rum. Maybe it was his intoxicating presence. Maybe it was her complete inability to hear what she wanted to hear. "Knew what? What did everybody know?" Her inner demons, the ones that had never been known to offer her a moment's peace, assured her it was that he couldn't stand to be around her. But for once, rather than listening to them and running away, she trusted him and waited for him to answer.
"That I'm in love with you."
Her mouth dropped open. She couldn't process what he was telling her. For a moment, she wondered if he was making fun of her. But she looked in his eyes and she saw the fear, the anxiety, the desperation and she knew it was real. And it made sense to her - why he'd pushed her away, why he'd been cold to her. Because he'd realized his feelings as suddenly as she had and he'd been every bit as afraid of them. But rather than say that, rather than return his sentiment, she leaned into one of his hands. "Really?" It was the most innocent and probably the most real thing she'd ever let anyone hear - her insecurity.
It took him a moment to determine that she wasn't brushing him off or rebuffing him, but eventually he started to smile. "Really." He leaned forward, slowly enough to make her crazy, and barely brushed his lips over hers.
She was overwhelmed and disappointed when he pulled back a second later. She hadn't even had enough time to register the sensation, let alone coax a real kiss out of him. She smiled at him and pulled on a handful of his shirt. "Come back here."
"Not tonight."
That was all the demons needed to start laughing at her, reveling at how easily she'd been fooled. It was all she could do to keep her chin from trembling. She couldn't figure out what he was doing, why he was dangling that revelation in front of her, only to steal it back. And her face displayed the shock and hurt.
He did lean forward then, pressing his lips against her forehead. "You're drunk, Liv. And I'd prefer to not get my ass kicked in the morning when you realize I knew you were drunk."
She tried to find a flaw in his logic, but she suspected that the reason she couldn't was because he was right and she was drunk. And she loved him a little bit more for that. "Will you stay?"
He chuckled as he sat back, snagging her hand as he did so. "That's probably not a very good idea."
"Please?" She knew there was a very good chance that she wouldn't remember much of the conversation in the morning, not unless he was there to spur her memory. And it wasn't a conversation she wanted to forget.
Fortunately, her plea had that same effect as his had. He nodded. Standing up, he tugged on her hand until she did the same and led her to the bedroom. He helped her into bed before taking off his shirt and shoes and joining her. She grinned as his arms wound around her, holding her snugly against him. Actually being in his arms was more amazing than she'd fantasized.
She felt his breath fall on her neck. "Good night, Liv."
She folded her arms on top of his, linking their fingers together. "Merry Christmas, El." And for the first time in her life, she actually meant it.