A/N: Moving past my Christmas feels and into my NYE feels. Thanks for reading :)

He's pacing outside her office when she rounds the corner from the elevator bank. He's staring at her when her eyes find his and it takes her back more than a decade. Reminds her of a church corridor, the smell of old wood and burned coffee. And for a moment she thinks he'll run towards her, take her in his arms and hold her. She thinks she'll press her face into his shoulder and tell him she's glad he's here.

But that moment passes. After all they're not the people they were then. Their relationship is not the same as it was a decade ago. And Olivia's a captain now. This is her squad. She has morale to uphold and too many people counting on her, looking up to her, to show a moment of fragility.

Still, she feels the relief in seeing him after the tension of the past few days, the heartache of the past few hours. The look on his face steadies her. Because she thinks, for the first time since he's come back, that Elliot's actually here for her.

She shifts back into work mode, directing uniforms and detectives, ignoring the pull of him for a few minutes. She's finally approaching her office and she passes him wordlessly, the barest of glances that he takes as invitation, following her inside and shutting the door.

She yanks the jacket off her shoulders, throwing it onto a hook and gracelessly falling into her desk chair. "You're here." She keeps her tone neutral, plain, not daring to allow herself to fully believe that he's here for her, and not just here because he needs her. Again.

Olivia's always been good at that. Good at supporting others, propping them up, taking care of them. Something she's gotten better at over the years. Putting her needs to the side and focusing on the needs of those around her. In some ways she sees this as a positive trait. She takes pride in being someone others can rely on. But sometimes she allows herself to recognize the trade off in it. How infrequently she allows others to be there for her. How much she hides her own needs and wants and burdens so that no one else feels obliged to take them on.

And so yes, she's disappointed that she had to spell it out for Elliot, remind him that he hasn't even once attempted to be there for her in all these months since he's come back to New York. But in the depths of her heart, she has to admit how hard it is to allow others to do that for her. How hard it is to trust Elliot to do that for her. And even if she wants him to ask, how afraid she is to share. In truth, she's waiting for him to walk away again. Waiting for him to leave her. And if she allows herself to open up to him again, it'll only hurt that much more.

He leans against a chair in front of her desk, bending forward to push the heels of his palms onto the back. For a few seconds he watches her, as if he's unsure what she wants to hear.

"I heard about the shooting. Are you ok?"

"Oh," It slips out in a way that belies her surprise. And she sees the shame in his eyes that she should find his support unexpected. She passes a hand down her face and sighs.

"You already talk to IAB?" He asks as he rounds the chair and slumps into it, eyes still examining her face.

"Yeah…you just…came here? When you heard?" She needs to be sure she's not creating what she wants to hear from him. She needs to be sure that he really just came here to check on her, to see if she is ok.

That's what they always used to do, when something dire would happen. They'd turn to each other after they'd discharged their weapons, after they'd been hauled into IAB, when squad members were shot or when a case was just exceptionally bad. For him to be here now meant something, even as she was too overwhelmed to plumb the depths of its meaning at this moment.

"I thought about texting or calling. But I figured you wouldn't have a chance to answer. Thought I should just…drop by. But…" He sounds uncertain now, insecure in his decision and she looks over at him, seeing the raw way he's looking at her.

"I can go, if you'd prefer? I don't want to impose." He's halfway to his feet.

"No. Don't go." She says finally, clearly.

The knock at the door interrupts them and she sits up in her chair and waves towards Fin, looking weary himself as he enters with updates.

Elliot is looking out the window at the falling snowflakes when Fin walks out and Olivia stares at the files on her desk, exhausted to the point where the words blur before her eyes.

"This isn't a good time," He supplies from his spot by the window. When she looks up his gaze is tender and he slowly crosses back towards her. She wants to reach for him. Wants to allow him to pull her body against his. Wants to know what his comfort would feel like after so long.

"I want you to stay." She doesn't expect the words to come from her and it takes a few long seconds of seeing Elliot's soft smile to understand that she spoke them aloud. "I have a million things to do." She adds belatedly, though his smile doesn't falter.

"But tomorrow?" She throws in, not allowing herself to contemplate the offer at all.

"Tomorrow?" His smile grows, a brightness in his eyes and her heart twinges at the response. "As in New Year's Eve?"

Shit. She hadn't remembered. Was too damn tired to realize what she was asking.

"Oh…uhhh…"

He ducks his head, still smiling. But he doesn't back off, just lifts his gaze hopefully to hers and waits.

"I'd um…I'd have to check with Noah. He's having a friend over. They'll probably be asleep by 11." She stops abruptly, trying not to allow the sudden nerves twisting her belly to cause her to ramble further. "Don't you have plans?" She throws back, hoping to be let off the hook of what she's accidentally started.

"No." He smiles more. "Ma's going to some all night bingo thing. I told Eli he could go to a friend's. I'm trying to give him some trust. So…I'm free."

She drops her gaze from him, clears her throat. Family Christmas had been a lot to begin with. But New Years, and just the two of them once Noah and his friend were asleep…is she really ready for that?

"Why don't you talk to Noah. And if he's ok…and if you're ok…"

She forces herself to look at him. And he's still smiling, looking at her so intently. She knows she's smiling now, even if she doesn't mean to. Even if she feels shaky and a little nauseous and all sorts of terrified. "Ok." She whispers and he nods, finally saying goodnight and walking out.

"Hey, Noah," Olivia calls from the kitchen as he unwraps the 2022 glasses from their packaging, sitting in the living room. The day is gloomy, outside, but they're decorating and she's putting together snacks and it all feels comfortably festive.

"Yeah…" He replies absently, fiddling with the plastic glasses before he pops them on his face and grins over at her.

She smiles easily, though she's anxious about what she intends to ask. "You remember my friend, Elliot."

"Uh huh." Noah's working on the next package of glasses. "From that Christmas party."

"Right. He didn't have any plans tonight. So I was thinking of inviting him over."

She watches Noah pause in his work and he slowly looks over at her. "Is he your boyfriend?"

It's not the first time Noah has asked a question like this of her, so it shouldn't surprise her. But her answer has always been no, all the times he's asked. And this time, though the answer is still no, the truth is far more complicated.

She sighs softly, searching for the words. "He's not my boyfriend." But beyond that she doesn't quite know what to say.

Her relationship with Elliot has always been beyond the scope of her vocabulary. Always too layered, always unexplored, always undefined. Over the years she's called him many things. Her partner. Her ex-partner. Her friend. Her best friend. Over the years, she's thought of him many ways. Her unrequited. Her could have been. Her unknown. Her parallel universe. And all those times when someone would ask what was between them, it had always been simpler to refer to his marriage, their partnership, than to allow the question to be inspected.

But when he'd resurfaced, it had been impossible not to hope. Even though hope was something she had put away years before. The last time she'd felt it had been before Noah's adoption, when she'd looked into his round eyes and he'd smiled his toothless smile and she'd hoped that it was just the start for them. And when it had all miraculously worked out, she'd decided that was enough, more than enough. That hoping for anything else was asking for too much. And she'd tucked it away, afraid to create the space for the inevitable disappointment of more when her life had always been about limits to happiness.

But then, there was Elliot. Telling her she meant the world to him. Telling her he loved her. And hope had risen like the full moon in early evening, the promise of brightness lingering at twilight.

Of course, he'd disappointed her. Even if she'd expected it, it still hurt. So when he told her he wanted balance in the undefined context of whatever had always been between them, she'd called it friendship. But the hope had said 'for now'. And she still didn't know what to do with any of it.

"But you…like him?" Noah's staring at the glasses in his hands when he says this, a blotchy redness in his cheeks.

"He's my friend."

"Mo-om," Noah rolls his eyes. "I mean, do you like him?" He's still not meeting her eyes, still focused on what's in his hand. And she knows he's getting to that age where these questions are getting more uncomfortable between them. She dreads him growing up in these moments. Wants to lock him into this time where he's still accessible to her, but knows that the years are coming and the necessary distance will arrive with it. And there will come a time when her baby boy is grown and there will be things they won't share the same way. This is just the start of that and she tries not to get teary eyed over it.

"I…Maybe." She finally forces herself to say. It's not quite the truth, but maybe the only truth she's willing to speak aloud to anyone. Her feelings for Elliot have always been something to hide, something to secret away. To be honest with them, to put them outside of herself, is frightening. It's admitting to something she wants that she never felt she'd have or even deserve. It's allowing herself to dream and setting herself up for failure. "But…if there comes a time when he's something besides a friend, we can talk about it."

She watches Noah turn that over and he finally looks over at her and nods. "He seems ok." He finally says. "I mean…I don't want you to be lonely. When Josh comes over."

Olivia moves closer to him, sits down on the couch as he fiddles with the glasses on the coffee table. "It's ok if you want to say no. It's ok if you don't want him here right now. It's usually just us on New Years."

Noah takes a breath, but his gaze on hers is steady. "But it won't be just us this New Years. So I think you should invite him. Otherwise he's going to be alone, right?"

She can hear something else between the lines. Something that sounds like her son becoming a young man, thinking of the future and worrying about his mother.

Olivia smiles at her son, his generosity, his consideration, his care. She passes a hand through his curls and smiles, even if she is still feeling uncertain about Elliot spending the evening with them.

She calls Cynthia next, Josh's mom. One of the other single moms that Olivia would call a friend if they both weren't so busy that they only maybe grabbed a meal together, with their kids, once a year.

And maybe Olivia's hoping that Cynthia will express some doubts about a strange man in the apartment with her son. But instead Olivia gets the verbal equivalent of a wink and a nudge and the support of I trust your judgment.

She thinks about rescinding the offer anyways. Worried that she's not ready, that he's not ready. That maybe neither of them would ever be ready. But she thinks about the Christmas gathering and the feeling of Elliot's arm around her shoulder and the way he'd said he wanted everything and she ignores the fear long enough to text him.

7 tonight. If you still want to come.

His response is so quick, she hasn't even had a chance to put down the phone.

What can I bring?

We're covered. But it's casual. We might be in our pjs

The text is sent before she has time to rethink her wording.

:) See you then

She opts for yoga pants, a soft tshirt and a heavy knit cardigan instead of the pjs. Noah and Josh are in his room, the beeps of a video game filtering into the kitchen. Olivia's made friends with her nerves by now. She's past second thoughts. Has moved onto third and fourth and fifth thoughts. But it's 7:01 and there's a knock at her door and she tries to tell herself to just give things a chance.

"Hi," He looks like second chances, sounds like the familiarity of days gone by. His jacket is unzipped and she can see a soft blue tshirt that brings out his eyes, dark jeans, a bottle of champagne in his hand. "For after the boys are asleep, if you feel like it." He offers the bottle of champagne and she lets him in.

"Is everything ok? After yesterday?"

"Yeah…IAB already cleared me."

She takes the champagne into the kitchen and pours them some sparkling cider in the meantime. She can feel his eyes take her in and when she glances back the smile on his face speaks of desire that he doesn't try to hide from her. He drops his jacket on a hook and glances around her apartment as he follows her, standing opposite her at the breakfast bar.

"And how are you doing?" It feels like care, to be asked. It feels like he's trying.

She sighs, "You know how it is. Everytime you discharge your weapon, even when you're sure it was the right thing."

His hand covers hers and squeezes and she stares at their linked hands on her kitchen countertop. It's both easy and hard to have him here. Feels natural and surreal. He's only been here twice, only came inside one of those times. But he wasn't himself then and she'd been honest when she'd told him it had scared her, having him in her home like that.

But he's here now, his gaze clear when she looks up at him, the sharp blue of his eyes steady on hers.

"Thanks for asking me over." He tells her, soft and genuine and sometimes she thinks it might be easier to let him love her than she fears.

"Thanks for coming by yesterday. I think I needed that." It's hard for her to admit it to him, but she's rewarded with the brightest of smiles.

It falls away from his face as quickly as it appeared. "I know I can't make up for all those times I should have been there before. I just want - need - to do better. From here on out."

She hesitates, but she knows she needs to be honest right now. "Are you sure? Because I don't want promises you can't keep."

He doesn't flinch away. "How about I don't make promises until you're ready to hear them. How about I show up for you first. I know I've been selfish…for years now. But I know I can do better. I'm ready to be here for you. I'm ready to put our friendship back together. To make it stronger. I want you to trust me again."

His hand is still holding hers and she wants to believe every word from his mouth. She wants to take all those burdens she's been carrying on her own and trust him with them. She wants to fill him in on every struggle and every triumph. Wants to share the small moments and the big ones. Wants especially to share the worst of it, the terrors that happened so soon after he'd left, the ones that had forced her to really give up on him. In the aftermath of all of it, in his silence, she'd determined that he just didn't care. So she thinks she needs to tell him so she can find out if she was wrong. She thinks if she can tell him about that, it can maybe heal some of the damage and distrust.

But she just isn't ready yet. They're not ready yet. She needs him to prove himself and she decides that isn't asking for too much.

"Ok. Show me I can trust you and we'll go from there."

He exhales, the smile reappearing on his face. "I can do that."

The boys emerge soon after and they trade snacks and watch the New Years festivities beamed in from around the world, the performance of artists she can no longer name. They play a board game together, laughter warming her as the competition grows. Eventually they finish the popcorn and just past 11:30 she glances over at the boys, sitting on the floor, and realizes they've both fallen asleep.

"They lasted longer than I expected." She whispers to Elliot, sharing the couch with her, though they sit at opposite ends.

"I think they fell asleep a while ago." He laughs softly. She wakes them and coaxes them back to the bedrooms and is surprised when they don't argue that it's almost midnight and they want to stay up. Elliot hovers nearby as she bids them goodnight and closes the door.

"I love seeing you with him." His voice is hoarse and she turns to look up at him. "I missed so much…seeing you as a mom. It's really beautiful, Liv. The two of you together…"

How many times over the years did she want to hear this from him. How many times did she want to share this experience with him. But he's here now, no matter how late it's happened, he's meeting her child, he's sharing some small piece of it. And it feels better than she'd imagined it would.

They stare at each other for a long, silent moment, as if they are mourning what was lost, together. She finally moves, "Can I get you a drink?" She asks more because she's feeling overwhelmed than anything else.

"Let's open the champagne." His hand slides across her back, leaving a warm shudder in its wake.

"Shouldn't we wait until midnight?" She smirks at him.

"Why wait?" And when he looks at her, there's a suggestion of something in his eyes before he turns away and reaches for the champagne bottle.

So she grabs two champagne flutes from the depths of her cupboard as he pulls away the foil and gently pops the bottle. They settle back into the couch, a little closer now, and clink glasses. She sips at the bubbles and feels the tingle of them in her mouth, down her throat.

It's minutes from midnight now. The new year almost upon them. This past year has been a lot and she'll be glad to put it behind her, to move forward, even if the future feels more unknown than usual. Elliot's here now, but what does it mean? And will he be here when another year passes? She can admit to herself that she wants that, even as she refuses to define the context of it. But wanting it and hoping for it are two different things. And she doesn't feel strong enough to pin her hopes to his continued presence.

"Have you made your resolutions?" He breaks into the silence between them and she flicks her eyes over to him with a shake of her head.

"I'm terrible at keeping them, so I resolved many new years ago to stop making new years resolutions. So far, it's the only one I've kept." She jokes and he laughs softly.

"Well, I've made mine." His eyes are on her, suddenly intense and she can't find it in her to look away from him. She's too afraid to ask what he's planning, because she sees an answer in his eyes that plucks at her fears and her hopes and everything in between.

10 - 9 - 8

"They say the person you spend New Year's Eve with will be with you the whole year." He teases gently, voice soft and hopeful.

"I think I've heard that before." She replies as she surveys his expression.

He frowns a little, "Or maybe it's the person you kiss at midnight." The mocking frown transforming into a twinkle in his blue eyes.

7 - 6 - 5 - 4

Olivia shakes her head, eyes darting away from him as she feels her lips curl in a reluctant smile. "Are you trying to get me to kiss you?"

"It's worth a shot." He leans towards her, but there's still room between them, still time for her to tell him no, to hug him instead, to kiss his cheek.

3 - 2 - 1

She surges forward instead. Pushes her mouth to meet his. They hold the kiss between them as the roar from the TV fades into Auld Lang Syne. His hand finds hers, his thumb strokes her knuckles and she thinks he'll deepen the kiss, thinks she wants him to do just that.

But he separates from her instead and she draws in a shaky breath as her eyes open to find him watching her.

"Happy New Year, my friend Olivia." He whispers, his champagne laced breath brushing across her lips.

She laughs, huskily, a grin pinching her cheeks. The tears flood her eyes so suddenly that she's unprepared when they slide down her cheeks.

He returns her grin, his hand leaving hers to swipe them away. "It's bad luck to cry on New Years," He scolds lightly.

"And what if they're happy tears?"

"Don't think we should take any chances," He replies, his lips brushing hers again.

"Guess now you have to stay the whole year, my friend Elliot." She tries not to let the worry pour out of her.

"Well, I was planning on staying forever, if that's alright with you. It's one of my resolutions."

She doesn't want to risk a resurgence of tears, so she leans up and kisses him again, soft and lingering. They stay there together, chasing each other's mouths with gentle kisses, teasing and light. One day soon there'll be more. But for right now this is enough, just right. And they greet the New Year as something more than friends.