a new and glorious morn

by Kayenes

"She finds it mesmerizing that he'd press into her like a puzzle piece, inserting into the last spot - completing the world's largest Christmas jigsaw." ::COMPLETE::

Hello, this is a Christmas/NYE fic. It's a little different than I normally write in all ways if you've read my previous works. Some may remember part of this, so if you do then shhhhhh. This fic is a repeat offender that I intended to post last Christmas but lost the second chapter of and just scrapped all together. But I finally finished it and now it is/was part of a Christmas fic exchange. Hehe. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. Thank you Cori for beta'ing this monster. You're the best. xo.

Set toward the end of season 12 minus Smoked but you can envision whatever era of eo you want. xo.

Rated Mature for adult situations and themes.

Based "loosely" on prompt #22.

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a new and glorious morn

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11:45 P.M. New Year's Eve

A chill slithers down her spine as a cluster of nimbus clouds drift in front of the glimmering moon, bathing everything around her in an infinite sea of blackness. The tops of the rolling hills of nothingness still loom around her, but are sheathed in a metallic silver glow with no discernable details.

She leans the side of her forehead against the chilled glass of the passenger side window, trying to get a glimpse of something, anything. The temperature seems to drop ten degrees every ten minutes resulting in the involuntary chattering of her teeth, and the small convulsions of her body's desperate attempt to garner some warmth from the inside out.

To make matters worse, and if she'd seen correctly before the moon had hidden behind a wall of billowy clouds, she'd have sworn tiny frozen specs of ice were falling from the sky in the form of snowflakes.

Shit.

She curses the cold, the broken-down car she sits in and the damn never ending road that seems to span hundreds of miles in front of her and behind her, disappearing into a black hole in each direction. Thick woods, made up of hundreds of North American pines, line the edges on both sides of the two-lane road. The dotted yellow lines had faded miles ago into small jagged rocks that remind her of the pins and needles starting to prickle at her toes and fingers.

It's when she swears in her mind that she can hear rustling in the woods right outside her window that she hits the car lock button again, even though she's hit the passenger side button at least ten times in the last forty minutes.

"Come on," she pleads as a mist of vapor dispels from between her lips as she speaks into the void of the car. Looking down at her cellphone, she notes the percentage and immediately clicks the power button once again with her left thumb.

17%.

She's screwed. Royally screwed. She's going to freeze to death out here on New Year's Eve and no one is going to find her until days later because she's somewhere in the middle of Nowhere, New York.

Cellphone dying, temperatures dropping, emotions rising and patience dwindling, Olivia pulls her cardigan tighter around her body and blows into her hands, trying to keep them nimble in case she finally gains signal out here with cell towers seemingly hundreds of miles away.

Or if she needs to pull a trigger.

Her feet ache and she silently curses herself for dressing up. Not only that, but she is freezing cold everywhere. She hadn't expected to be stranded on the side of the road on the brink of midnight with no gas in the tank.

She had expected to feel the buzz of alcohol as the clock struck twelve and it warmed her veins while she silently swayed to the music at some party she didn't even really want to be at but was content at because he was there. She knows better, she should have considered the worst-case scenario.

She should have thought this out better… she could have preve-

A loud knock against the back driver side window silences her thoughts if only for a few seconds before she's jarred completely out of her self-loathing and into slight panic. It's when her door handle on the passenger side suddenly jerks and the remaining air leaves her lungs cautioning her of the severity of the situation.

It couldn't have been the wind. The doors are locked but somehow, she feels like she's out in the open, doesn't feel safe within the confines of the car.

She doesn't have time to react. Whoever it is, must be able to unlock the doors she realizes.

The moonlight slides through the dips of the clouds and suddenly she can see her surroundings again.

She's frozen in place, unable to move. Someone is out there and she has no way of protecting herself. The dome light above her hadn't come on because this is one of those newer SUV's that only function from the driver's side.

Except the locks.

The damned locks.

She'd pressed the one on her door at least a dozen times. Of all times to fail her, they had to now. She feels betrayed by an inanimate object and it angers her just enough to quell the panic.

The crunching of leaves and rocks on the shoulder of the road draw her attention away from the astute terror starting to brim over in her chest.

Suddenly, she remembers. The gun… In the glove box. She hurriedly reaches for the handle on the cover of the box.

Before she has a chance to put her hand on the firearm, she's jolted by two hands that reach inside of the car. She doesn't even remember the car door opening or when the cold air had started slicing against her skin.

The hands yank her by her shoulders, causing her body to slam into the hard barrier of someone else's.

It feels like they're falling off a cliff when in all actuality it's just a ditch off the side of the road. The wind blows through her bangs as a soft wail falls from her lips.

Help.

They're falling.

They're plummeting into a dark bank, but she might as well be falling into a black hole.

There will be nothing left of her. She'll dematerialize into tiny atoms and Elliot will come back to the ashes of her former self.

Her screams are caught in the back of her throat.

This is it.

This is how it all ends for her.

eoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeo

6:57 P.M. New Years Eve

Elliot has the inimitable talent of shocking her and making her want to sear her handprint into his face more times than not. She has to admit, however, that the feeling she has now leans more towards shock due to his request from the previous night.

As they'd been standing next to the bullpen, pulling on their jackets to leave for the evening, the words had slipped from his lips so eloquently that she'd almost thought she'd only heard the syllables in her mind.

"Do you want to be my plus one at Donnelly's New Year's Eve party?"

Her reply had been stuck on the tip of her tongue for a solid minute before she could answer and the amusement in his eyes hadn't been lost on her, even when he'd quickly caught himself, trying to cover for his seeming blunder.

"If you're not already booked for the night."

If she'd been honest with herself, she had never expected him to be interested, thus tamping down her own interest in the event as well.

However, with the question floating in the air, and questions in her own mind regarding why he'd ask her such a thing in the first place, she'd felt a reinvigorated interest that she hadn't been expecting. Normally, dressing up in her favorite little black dress accentuated with the uncomfortable six-inch heels and her sentimental diamond necklace and matching earrings would be limited to only a few times a year and she hadn't planned on this being one of them.

But with Elliot staring at her, eyebrows perked, she found the request as more than just an invitation. It was a lifeline. For her or him, she isn't quite sure of. Nor does she really dwell on it which is unlike her.

"If by booked you mean by my couch and cell phone close by, then sure," she joked, giving him a sly smile. She'd bought a bottle of inexpensive wine and ordered some movies while browsing online one night after work.

"Catering and booze. It'll be nice seeing Donnelly out of her element," he'd joked.

Even with Munch and a temporary Narcotics officer covering for the night, she still didn't count out the possibility of being called and she knew Elliot had the same thoughts as well which surprised her that he'd want to leave the city on New Year's Eve of all nights in the first place.

"You know what, El? I'd really like that," she answered sincerely, her lips tipping to the side in a small grin.

As she thinks about it now, the moment still fills her with one-part tentative anticipation and one-part total confusion.

eoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeo

7:12 P.M.

Elliot: I'm on my way. Crossing the bridge now.

7:12 P.M.

Olivia: Texting and driving? Starting the New Year on the wrong foot already, El.

7:13 P.M.

Elliot: Okay. I'm in my driveway. About to pull out.

7:14 P.M.

Olivia: Drive safe. See you in a few.

7:15 P.M.

Elliot: :-)

Olivia laughs softly and sighs, her breath ruffling the side swept bangs across her forehead. She mentally starts a countdown of how long it'll take him to pull up outside her building by the timestamp on his last text.

As she stares at her reflection in the mirror above the dresser, she sees that forty-three-year-old woman, not just a detective, but the person underneath the badge who comes out to play every once in a while. And one who is being escorted to a party by her partner of twelve years tonight.

She'd gone with jewelry - diamond necklace and matching earrings inherited from her mother - but due to the chilly air of December, she'd opted for her tight black dress pants, and a burgundy colored long sleeved lace top that billows around her arms loosely and fits tighter around her body, accentuating her cleavage just enough.

While she had no intention of entertaining anyone for the night, she had a sick need to look sexy. Maybe for herself, maybe for the thrill of the looks she'd get, or quite possibly… for her partner's wandering eyes.

It doesn't get past her that he'd asked her rather than just show up with his wife like normal attendees do.

She also has every intention of asking him about it in the least patronizing way she knows how at some point tonight. Hopefully, it'll be when she has a steady stream of alcohol embracing her veins.

There is nothing random about Elliot… them, nor the fact they're going together to a party hosted by a well-acquainted Judge and former Bureau Chief ADA whom they have worked with many times.

It's been a few years since they'd worked closely with the counselor, but judging by the timing, Olivia suspects the party is serving more than one purpose. Elizabeth Donnelly had a taste for pulling out the stops to win a case, and Olivia realizes that may be how she's announcing her retirement as well by ushering in a new era with close friends and colleagues.

She is smart. Olivia can appreciate that.

Reaching for the black ankle boots with brown heels on the top of her dresser, she sits down with a grunt on the edge of her bed with them in hand. She then takes her time finishing off her look, knowing it'll take every bit of a half an hour for Elliot to make it in from Queens.

Maybe longer depending on the traffic. So, she reaches for the black nylon anklets that had already been resting on her bedspread and slides them on before sliding each black boot onto her feet.

Just as she takes in her handy work, her cell phone chimes.

Pushing off her mattress, she leans over the cell with his text message appearing on her lock screen.

7:19 P.M.

E: Had to stop for gas.

7:20 P.M.

O:Still getting dressed.

7:25 P.M.

E: Back on the road now.

7:26 P.M.

E: It's chilly. Wear something warm.

Rolling her eyes, she doesn't answer but instead heads to the bathroom to put on some light makeup.

If by chance they do get pulled into work tonight for whatever reason, she'll make sure she looks her goddamned best even if it is in the middle of the night and assholes are still out hovering around a ball that drops from the sky.

eoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeo

"Can you put the address into your map's app? I only know how to get so far."

Olivia clears her throat, and nods as though she knows exactly what he's talking about, "Uh, yeah. I can pull it up right now," she replies as she searches her notes for the address and then taps it into her phone's GPS, which she is still getting used to since she doesn't use it often.

Elliot hesitates as if he has something else to say, both hands on the wheel at 10 and 2 as if for balance, but nothing comes out. Instead, he continues to stare forward and she can't help but smile at his driving consistency despite the newness of the moment. She's watched him drive the precinct's sedan for over ten years yet somehow tonight feels different.

"I'm glad you said yes… If I haven't said that already," he mutters several seconds later. "Last time I… saw Donnelly outside the station, she sort of…," he trails off.

The way his voice tapers off cryptically intrigues her and she finds herself smiling at his profile while he keeps his eyes trained on the road ahead of them.

"You can't just stop there. "

He turns his eyes away from the road briefly to glance at her, cocking a bushy brow upwards before returning his attention back to the road.

A sly smile brushes across his lips before he licks them and she hangs on to his every movement, waiting for some sort of … revelation.

A New Year's "Revelation," she chuckles to herself.

He sighs, and that sly smile returns to his lips before he turns to her with his mouth tipped to the side, "She came onto me."

Olivia chokes slightly as she tries to suppress her laugh. She doesn't mean to mock him, but the sheer disbelief in her makes it hard not to.

"She what? " she sputters out, not able to stop the wide smile on her face.

"I uh, - showed up to her apartment when we were tracking Stuckey, before we knew it was him of course, for all those murders."

Interested more than she should be now, she turns to face him slightly and leans in, "Wait, what did she say?"

"I'm not …" he says coyly, a bit of shyness coloring his face.

"Come on," she urges.

Shaking his head, he turns his blinker on, hopping into a left turn lane before continuing, "I said it's not a social call and then she goes, "Well that's improper… and a pity.""

His imitation of Liz's transatlantic accent tickles her more than it should, and she can't stop the quiet laugh that grips her chest. She turns in her seat to face the front window, and in the reflection, she sees him as he turns a bright shade of red.

Lifting her elbow onto the passenger window sill, she uses it to prop her head up with her palm as she speaks, "I can't believe she would say that. Not that I'm doubting your story," she retorts. She purses her lips, wanting to say she doesn't blame the judge.

Elliot shakes his head with a shy grin on his face, "What? You think Donnlly couldn't be into me? She was into it. I could tell."

"I don't need these images in my head, El. I don't think I'll be able to look her in the eyes tonight now."

Elliot snorts, "You and me both."

The awkward conversation dissipates and when the silence becomes comfortable, she turns to him with a slight glare remembering why they're on the way to some random town nearly two hours from the city in the first place.

"Something tells me that's not the only reason you asked me to tag along tonight."

Elliot was waiting for this question, she can tell, as he takes a deep, cleansing breath and checks the rearview mirror before tilting his head to the side, "What you wanna know?"

"Well, maybe for starters, where is "starts with a K and ends with a y"? Everything okay?"

Elliot scratches his chin with his thumb as he checks his side view mirror, then the rearview again before glancing quickly at her side view mirror, indicating he is clearly stalling for time.

"I mean… I'm clearly happy to oblige you, Elliot. I wouldn't be here if I wasn't. I'm just… I like to know about you and your family. If I hadn't said it before, you all mean a lot to me," she utters softly, repeating a version of the words he'd said moments earlier.

He turns his head back towards her then, his brows lowered more than before, a serious expression crossing his features, "You mean… you mean a lot to us as well."

The way he looks at her and the words floating in between them cause her breath to hitch, mouth go dry, and so on. She turns her head forward, nodding.

For some reason, she'd never expected him to ever say it like that, like it was obvious. Elliot often played his emotions close to his vest, so it was nice to actually hear it directed towards her when there wasn't trauma or death lingering nearby.

Deep down she knew, but it was nice to hear.

Neither have been completely oblivious to the feelings simmering beneath the surface of their very thin facades but when things like that come to the surface between, it tends to make things complicated.

After all these years, they'd just given in to just accepting the feelings were there and living life as normal. However, she has a sneaking suspicion he is oblivious to the extent of just how much she cares about him, to put it mildly.

It borders on ridiculously much, but she has given up trying to suppress it.

It just exists, just as they do now right next to each other.

They quickly become lost in their own heads and Olivia takes that as a sign that maybe she's been living too modestly by hanging onto his tiny revelations.

She'd given up going out for nights like these years ago. She's only in her early forties yet she feels like there is no other endgame in all of it. She finds herself going back to the same routine and that's what she's doing right now.

She rubs her forehead roughly with her fingers and she can feel Elliot's eyes on her for a brief second.

They both jump out of their skin when the GPS voice blares through the silence, signaling for him to turn onto an oncoming ramp a quarter mile up the road.

"Christ," he huffs out under his breath. "Scared the shit out of me."

"You? " she quirks an eyebrow as her own heartbeat pounds against her chest. "I still haven't gotten used to this thing."

He smiles and his voice is conspiratorial, "Technology is moving too fast. One day we're using this little separate GPS screen to tell us where to go. Now you can just use your phone. When I was a teenager, we just found our way around and if we got lost, we were just…"

"Shit out of luck? You sound like Munch, by the way," she jokes with him.

Elliot shakes his head, "I'm gonna remember you said that. I didn't realize how long it'd take to get there. Maybe we should have left a little earlier."

"I was always told to never be the first one at a party," Olivia replies offhandedly.

"You were the life, weren't you?"

Olivia looks at him, "Me? No. Maybe in another life. I was more worried someone would see me and turn me in to my mom. I'd have never lived through that."

"Yeah," Elliot mutters. After a moment, he says, "The few parties I went to… well…" he wiggles his brows.

She smiles as she peers at him out of the corner of her eye, then she looks at the time again, "New topic."

"Why?"

She looks at him with a serious expression and he nods, silently acquiescing.

Olivia reaches for the dial to the radio before turning to him, "Mind if we listen to some music?"

Elliot looks at the radio and then to Olivia before he nods, "Just no freestyle," he jokes. "I had to listen to Dickie's "freestyling", or whatever the kids these days are calling it, all the way home from Jersey on Christmas. It's something new he's taken up to keep himself busy. I can't do it again."

Olivia smiles at the thought as she turns on the radio. The first station is nothing but static.

It actually surprises her. "Hm, that's weird.'

"What's that?"

"I didn't think we'd gone that far yet."

"That's why the kids do CDs."

Olivia shakes her head, the static turning out to be a bit of a continual disappointment when a station finally comes but is still slightly staticky.

"O'Holy Night, that's rich. Don't they know Christmas is over." Elliot grumbles.

"I've known you for over twelve years and I've never heard you talk about Christmas like that."

"Eh, things change. I tolerate it…" he trails off. She looks at his profile in silence until he looks back at her, "For the kids. They love it. So, I keep up the spirit for them."

She chews on her bottom lip; a bit of an awkward silence takes over. She can tell he knows that her wheels are spinning as to why he's suddenly not in the spirit. It stays quiet until she speaks again, "Sometimes radio stations play Christmas music until a few days after New Year's… just like people who keep their trees up till then."

"Hmm," Elliot grunts. "I guess it's better than nothing. Turn it up a little."

Olivia obliges and they return to looking in separate directions as the second chorus of Oh Holy Night permeates the interior of Elliot's car. Her out her window and Elliot straight ahead as he drives.

The song always did make her emotional during the holidays. Every time she'd hear it on the radio at her apartment, she'd stop whatever she was doing and start crying. She's not sure why exactly. There's no sentimental value for her.

But she'd gathered it had to do with the fact she never really got that chance to draw something personal from it.

She had imagined Elliot as the opposite for a myriad of reasons. Kathy, though, probably cries when she listens to Christmas music as well. It's the thought that his wife probably already blubbers over it that keeps her own emotions at bay because she refuses to cry in front of him over holiday music too.

After the second chorus concludes, his voice shatters the silence between them like percussions in an orchestra as he turns down the music briefly, returning to a previous point in their conversation.

"I'm with you tonight because… I just wanted to be. I wanted to start the new year off on a good foot with someone I care about," he says firmly as he shrugs his shoulders.

Olivia looks down at her hands in her lap, unsure of how to reply. She wants to press for more. Of course she does.

It's in her nature to pry a little too far into his life when it comes to those barriers that keep them nice and dry from the ocean of feelings that ebb and flow between them. But he has to make sure those barriers are nice and sturdy for the next one of their storms that may blow in and ensconce the place inside of them, in the form of a blizzard.

Her breaths are light, yet her pulse quickens, causing a dull throb to encapsulate her thoughts and when she fails to find the words, she looks down at her phone for a distraction, mentally noting the way the map rotates in a different direction than before.

Her eyes narrow and she realizes the road on the screen is no longer green, it's now represented by yellow lines.

Interesting.

Sighing, she looks back up and glances at Elliot before speaking, "What is this, El?"

He turns away from the road briefly, glancing at her from the corner of his eye, "I'm not sure, Liv. I just started feeling… different about -"

"No… " Olivia cuts him off thankfully, and motions her hand toward the windshield. "Are we supposed to be entering, "Ithaca?"

Furrowing his brow, he nods toward the GPS, "What's that thing saying?"

"I don't… I don't know. The road is yellow."

"What?" he asks dryly.

Olivia looks up at him, "What's that mean?"

Shaking his head, he reaches for her phone and she hands it over. He peruses the screen with his eyes, moving the map around with his finger before handing it back to her. Staring out the front windshield, he finally sighs. "If I remember correctly, the yellow means you've veered off the intended route."

"Oh great," she whispers, feeling guilty for not paying closer attention.

"Don't worry about it. We can stop at a gas station and get directions so we can get back on the highway."

"It was that damn Christmas song," she quietly muses. "Sorry, I sound like you. Can't I just re-enter her address?"

"You know, that's two digs tonight. You're making me second guess this decision," he says only slightly jokingly.

She laughs as she fidgets with her phone's settings. "Are we really getting this old and grumpy? We can't find our way anymore? Do I need to ask Santa for some good reading glasses and Christmas Spirit ."

"Ha ha," Elliot replies playfully. "I figured this might happen. I like taking directions the old-fashioned way anyways. Hell, Donnelly didn't have to move so far out," he says more seriously.

"Not sure I blame her."

Elliot squints as he pulls into a small parking lot with light poles that give off dull white light in the middle of an open field. It is one of those small gas stations with the old self pumps still sitting in front of the building and Olivia immediately feels a chill up her spine.

If the lights to the small store were not on, she would have thought the place had long been out of service.

"I'll go get directions. Need anything?"

"Actually…" she starts… "Bathroom break."

"Right," Eliot nods as he moves to exit the car.

Inside, Elliot walks up an aisle checking out the snacks while she makes a beeline toward the bathroom signs.

The old woman at the counter eyes both of them quickly, but carefully as she studies the crossword puzzle in front of her, occasionally glancing over her circular wire-framed glasses. She obviously realizes they are from out of town by the way she grins knowingly at them both after a moment.

Olivia hears the old woman's voice echo as she's about to push open the door to the lady's room.

"Toilet's out in that one. You'll have to use the men's room."

Olivia's hand hovers above the door before it falls to her side. "Of course," she whispers to herself. Turning toward the woman across the room, she nods with a pursed smile and side steps toward the men's door.

Pushing it open, she quickly slides in and locks the door behind her. She searches around the small area, the toilet surprisingly clean for the men's room and she is silently thankful. The floor is plain concrete and there is a small wall sink in one corner. No paper towels.

Drying her hands on her pants will have to do.

She hurries up and tries not to overthink the night so far. With the hours looming on, she finds herself actually really enjoying the company and being out of Manhattan for the first time in she can't count how long.

She and her partner have had their problems over the years and of course, the fall outs. But, in recent years, they've been… good. Really good. They walk side by side in step, they take their lunch together and eat in comfortable silence, they take turns driving, and they still know each other's coffee orders, it's just… comfortable.

It's like they're married.

But they aren't.

It all makes her feel comfortably numb if she's honest with herself. Maybe Elliot had picked up on it too. Perhaps that is why he'd asked her tonight, to confront it outside of their normal routine.

As she makes her way toward the sink, she finds herself staring at the woman in the mirror.

Everything is the same as earlier when she'd put on her makeup with the exception of the natural rose tint on her cheeks due to the cold air.

Before she'd left her building, she'd had a last-minute urge to put on some dark red lipstick and now as she looks at it in her reflection, a knowing feeling flits around in the pit of her stomach.

She tries to shake off the sensation with the wild motions of her hands as she tries to air dry them after washing them in the small sink.

When she finally pulls open the door, Elliot is standing right outside of it, with his shoulder leaning against the wall. His own cell phone is in his hands and he seems to be confused about something.

"Any luck?" she asks, breaking his concentration while simultaneously pausing her own thoughts.

He looks up as if he hadn't realized she'd come out of the restroom already and nods, "Yeah, we went about five miles too far. Gotta back track."

"You know… if you'd rather just… go back, It's no issue. Don't you want to see your kids before the ball drops?"

Elliot scrunches his face a bit and shakes his head, "Nah, not unless you want to?"

Shaking her own head, she smiles, "No. I'm good. As long as you are."

"Yeah. Let's go. The kids are all doing their own thing tonight. College party. Boyfriend's family. I think Liz said she'd be home before midnight because she's gotta be up early for a Saturday morning honors meeting at her school."

"Good for them. You've got good kids, El."

"Yeah," he agrees quietly.

"So..." Olivia draws out slowly, the inevitable question sitting on the tip of her tongue still. Kathy.

He swallows and as if reading her mind, his eyes turn down before he changes the subject, "I'm uh… ready whenever you are."

"Right," she utters. "Buy anything?"

As they walk side by side toward the glass front doors, he holds up a bag of discounted dark chocolate Christmas Reese's peanut butter cups. "I bought two, one for me and one for you. Didn't want to leave without buying anything."

Laughing softly, she reaches for the chocolate in his hand. It's when she looks up that she finally notices the Christmas decorations still up in the store. There's a small Christmas tree still sitting on the counter with built in red and green lights. Offset to the register, is a cutout of a large Santa Claus with a notepad in his hand for kids to write their Christmas wishes on. Guess the old lady will save the wishes for next year, she thinks amusedly.

As they reach the exit, she takes in the metallic red, gold and green garland wrapped around the poles on each side of the doorway.

"Cute," she mutters to herself as she tries to rip open the small bag of candy. Instead, the slick surface against her still wet hands causes the entire thing to go flying toward the ground.

She doesn't even realize it when she and Elliot both reach down for it, and both stand back up underneath the doorframe facing each other.

Loud if not slightly maniacal laughter sifts through the air toward them and they both turn toward the source in unison. The older woman, who at some point had pinned her long gray hair up into a bun, smiles brightly at both of them from behind the counter, "Looks like a little mistletoe "hung" around from Christmas just for the two of you."

Olivia furrows her eyes and glances at Elliot who is side eyeing her in return. Then all of a sudden, she watches Elliot's vision rise to above them where sure enough, some mistletoe is hanging from the store's front entry way.

Sighing, Olivia finishes reaching down to pick up the still mostly full bag and the few pieces of scattered candy she'd dropped and begins to say "Oh, we're not tog-"

Before she has a chance to finish her thought, she feels Elliot's cool fingers on her jaw as he pulls her face into his and kisses her sweetly on the cheek, inches from the crease of her mouth.

The motion throws her off kilter. Elliot always did know how to throw her off balance. He either steadies her on her feet or sends her barreling towards the abyss of unspoken emotions.

His voice snaps her out of her stunned reverie, "Happy Holidays Ma'am" and then he's pulling her out the door with him toward his car parked where they left it.

As she approaches the passenger side, she notices the woman in the doorway of the building and soon thereafter, the lights go off.

A winter chill slides down her back again through her thick black cardigan and she finds herself slinging herself into the front seat, and reaching for the heater as Elliot starts the car up.

"Sorry about that," Elliot quietly apologizes as he pulls on his seatbelt and swats her hand away from the heater settings. He cranks it up all the way and begins to pull out of the parking lot.

"About what?" she asks with amusement, shaking off her own bewilderment.

"I just… didn't want to disappoint the old lady. She looked lonely."

"Oh." Olivia offers, glancing out the window, the burn of his lips still on her chilled skin. "It was sweet, although a little misguided on her part."

"Yeah," Elliot grunts as he squints his eyes into the darkness in front of them. He turns his brights on and then reaches into his pocket for his cellphone, "When I was waiting for you, I was trying to get a signal. We must not be anywhere near a cell tower right now."

Olivia immediately looks down at hers in the cupholder and wakes it from sleep. No signal. "Mine doesn't have any bars either."

He reaches into his pocket again and hands her a slip of paper, "Read me the directions?"

"Sure," she says quietly as she reaches for the paper with his chicken scrawl on it, her fingers grazing his as she takes the slip of paper from him.

They drive for about ten minutes in the same direction before Elliot lets out a loud sigh.

"Are you sure there weren't supposed to be any turns?"

"No," she says exasperatedly. "It says stay on this road."

"Because I was sure we should have turned somewhere."

"Well, I don't know where."

Elliot scratches his temple before wiping his mouth with his palm. "Sorry. I must have written it down wrong."

They continue down the long narrow, two lane road that seems to be surrounded by a blank canvass of land. They pass by a street light every fifty yards and she can feel the frustration starting to build up next to her in the form of Elliot.

"We won't make it by nine," he says softly, the frustration ebbing as he glances at her.

She feels his eyes on her from her peripheral vision as she stares down at the paper in her hands, trying to decipher numbers and road names that she's never heard of before.

She glances at the clock, it's already 8:30 and to be frank, they're pretty damned lost.

"It's fine, El."

"No… it's not. I wanted tonight to be different. I wanted… " he trails off. "I'm a damn detective, shouldn't be this hard. How many times have we driven out of the city?"

"I know, El. But not this way."

"I just wanted this to be different," he mutters under his breath as he drives.

Her curiosity peaks at his admission but she decides to stay quiet and stare in front of her as the headlights glare against the black pavement of the road in front of them.

They sit in silence as the road winds and bends and curves and suddenly she gets a tingling sensation on the back of her neck.

"El?"

He stares ahead, his hands clenching the steering wheel as he focuses on his surroundings as he drives, "Yeah?"

"I don't remember any of this."

He squints his eyes and then looks at her, "What do you mean?"

"I don't remember all these curves, and we haven't turned anywhere."

"What's the next road we're supposed to turn on?"

"U.S. Route 6," she utters as she flips the piece of paper around in her hands with the directions on it.

"Yeah, I haven't seen any signs for miles."

"I'm starting to get a little worried," she admits.

He looks at her from the corner of his eye and a small smirk forms on his lips, "Don't you give up on me. That's a bad sign."

She smiles in return, the mood lightening again, "I'm not. Do you have a charger in case our phones go dead?"

Elliot's smirk slowly dissolves into a serious expression before he turns to look at her, "You didn't bring one?"

"Elliot," she whispers. It had completely escaped her mind. "Shit. I was too busy wondering why you weren't brooding tonight. Now, I'm a little concerned."

Elliot huffs lightly, "I wasn't in a brooding mood, but… now I'm not so sure. I was just in Jersey. My kids used their phones for navigation, but I was using mine for stuff all day too. Damn," he curses.

"Well, save all that intensity for another time, it's okay. I'll just turn mine off until we find another gas station or something."

"Okay, good thinking."

The words are barely off his lips when all of sudden the car jerks to the right, almost veering into an open field when a set of headlights shine inside Elliot's car from behind them, temporarily blinding him. Olivia has to grab the door handle to keep from sliding into the floor.

"What the hell?" Elliot curses. "What the hell is this asshole doing?"

Olivia slides back up in her seat and looks behind them through the back windshield seeing a large Hummer like vehicle tailing them. "I don't know. Where the hell did he come from?"

"I have no idea. I didn't see lights coming up behind us at all. He must've had them dimmed," Elliot retorts as he holds the steering wheel with his right hand and rolls down the window with his other.

He slides his left arm outside the window, waving to the car behind them, "Come on. Go around," he growls.

"Elliot...they're not letting up," Olivia exhales sharply. "They're riding your tail."

"I know. Assholes," he exclaims as he motions with his arm for them to go around again. "Come on!"

Suddenly, Olivia feels their car accelerate as Elliot's foot pushes down on the gas. They're speeding down a dark and desolate road they're not familiar with and Olivia's stomach drops.

"They're going to run us off the road."

"No they're not. Not if I have anything to do with it. Check the glove box," he motions with his right hand.

Olivia quickly opens it and a black box slides forward.

"My backup's in there. Just in case."

Olivia swallows and nods. Jesus.

She quickly pulls it out of the box and clicks off the safety, noting the sudden change in the atmosphere.

Elliot noticeably takes a deep breath and reaches his arm out once again and waves the large vehicle to go around.

Before he has a chance to put his arm down, she feels it. The Hummer fully tailgates Elliot's car and they start to swerve.

It feels like they're in a tornado as Elliot quickly grips the steering wheel with both hands, the car swaying back and forth as he tries to regain control.

"Son of a bitch," he yells as he slams on the brakes.

Just as they slow down, Olivia draws in a deep breath and exhales as Elliot slowly guides them to the side of the road. She looks in the rearview mirror and the other car follows suit, still thankfully falling further behind them despite their deceleration.

She hadn't realized it, but she'd at some point gripped Elliot's bicep as they'd been swerving all over the road. She squeezes when it looks like the Hummer has stopped.

"What are they doing," she whispers. Elliot watches from the rearview as the other car blinks their headlights several times before dimming them completely.

"I don't know. But I'm about to -"

"No," Olivia says firmly. "You're not going out there."

"Liv-" he draws out.

She squeezes his bicep again and stares him in the eye. "Wait a second."

Then after a brief pause, the headlights come back on the other vehicle and the sound of squealing tires fills the air along with the scent of burnt rubber as it speeds around them and flies down the road.

Elliot and Olivia watch in confusion as the vehicle's bright red tail lights get smaller in the distance in front of them.

"Jesus Christ," Elliot mumbles. Rubbing his forehead, he silently looks over at her. "Are you okay?"

Glancing at her fingers still digging into his arm and the gun pointed away from her in her other fist, she silently nods and lets her hand fall away to her lap.

"Yeah. If they'd known we're two off duty detectives..." she trails off.

"The punks are out, it's New Year's Eve."

She finds herself grinning but she tries to hide it when she speaks, "What were you planning on doing, Rambo? What if they'd had their own weapo–" she trails off when she realizes he's not paying attention to her. Instead, his focus is outside again and for a brief, brief second she thinks the Hummer is coming back.

"What's wrong?" she questions as she zones in on his expression. His eyebrows are furrowed again, and he's squinting… hard.

"Are those… Are those lights up there?"

Olivia shifts her focus in front of them and she squints too, trying to see what he is seeing.

Sure enough, a light twinkles in the distance and her eyebrows raise. "Not just some lights… that's a lot of lights."

"A town?"

"Maybe," she offers with raised eyebrows. His shoulders drop and he takes a deep breath as if relief is flooding through him. She can see the weight on his chest slowly lift and she wishes he would take it easy on himself sometimes.

"You wanna know why I've never driven past certain places?" he asks more calmly.

"Why?" she asks confusedly, shaking her head.

"When I was a kid, my dad took me for a ride in his Plymouth patrol car. We drove for what seemed like two or three hours out of the city to somewhere like this in the middle of nowhere. He was breaking every rule driving that police-issued car that far out of district lines but he said he didn't care, that it must be better for me than sitting at home in the middle of my mother's nothingness when she'd have her episodes. It's one of the only nice things he did for me growing up."

"El…" she begins, stunned briefly by his confession. "I'm sorry."

"I don't know why I shared that," he confesses.

"I'm glad you did."

He looks over at her, eyes softening as he speaks, "I know it's not the same, but I didn't want you to think this was some way to … I don't know… not to be my father. I mean, I don't want to be like him, that's not what this is about. I just wanted you to know that … I'm not like him."

Olivia lets a breath out before looking at him, because what has gotten into this man tonight. She can't explain it yet feels oddly comforted by this admission.

Unbeknownst to him, she had met his mother and knew almost from the minute she spoke with the woman, why Elliot was the way he was. But she also knew that he was the amazing man she knew because of this same woman, despite her flaws.

"I know, El. If I've learned anything the last twelve years as your partner, it's that I know you and I know who you are. I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be tonight."

Nodding, Elliot reaches for the gear shifts and starts to push the gas before he stops and looks at her again with a blank expression, "Guess I'm brooding tonight after all."

"No, you're just… you ."

He grins again and faces forward, "I'm not sure how to take that."

"Just smile and drive," she retorts as she herself smiles out the window as the car begins to move forward again after the brief chaos that had ensued.

For the second time in the last hour or so the radio speakers suddenly blast on with the same Christmas song from earlier - O' Holy Night, effectively giving them both heart arrhythmias from the shock.

Fall on your knees

Oh hear the angel voices

Oh night divine

Elliot turns the dial down and looks at Olivia, an expression she can't quite put her finger on. "That's weird right? Not just me?"

"Not just you. Christmas is over," she agrees. "Let's go."

He presses his foot down on the gas and speeds down the road, and she hopes the dancing lights ahead of them aren't just a mirage.

eoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeo

"Why does anyone need these many Christmas lights? I think they forgot the memo that it's almost January," Olivia mutters as they sit in the car outside the entrance to a short winding road that is lined with yellowish bulbs.

Elliot smirks, "You sound like me," before they continue to ride in silence for a few moments. Elliot drives along the rows of lights lining the brick street before he finally parks the car along the curb.

It is like a scene out of a town she's seen on television late at night a few times. Stars Hollow maybe? The similarities are uncanny, causing her to involuntarily shiver again for no particular reason.

Elliot sits beside her silently, taking in the sight. It's as if it's still Christmas day here and she can tell he is also befuddled as to what to think.

There's a large brick building that looms peacefully above everything else with two wreaths on each pillar of its giant front facade. There are several slightly smaller buildings that line the street next to it that look like apartment buildings with gold and red lights blinking in the windows on the first floor. She spots a Christmas Tree that is lit up in one building and the others are lit up from different windows on varying floors with twinkling lights that line each window frame.

Olivia gasps when she turns her head and sees the small gazebo sitting in the middle park area with the gentle red glow from the lights burning beneath its awning. It has several white pillars that are wrapped in green garland with red mistletoe sticking out. They too are lined with white Christmas lights that make the small structure stand out amongst the other buildings within the small town.

"Where did we time warp to?" Olivia asks softly.

"Mayberry?"

"Close," Olivia whispers as she observes more of the town. Down the street she notices a couple of tents set up and a few open store fronts. The windows are coated with fake snow paint and "Happy Holidays" as well as having a few with "Happy New Year" banners hanging.

She sees a large group of people gathered by a church-like structure with a steeple at the top of the building.

Olivia rolls down her window and in the near distance, she can hear them singing.

"Carolers," she whispers. "Wow. It looks like they're walking down the street towards those tents."

"Must be some New Year's Eve Fair or something," Elliot adds.

She looks at him, and tilts her head, "They've gotta know how to get back to the highway."

"Do you want to go or do you want me to? Should one of us stay here in the car and keep it warm?"

"I can go. I can handle myself, El."

"Are you sure? Wanna take the gun?" he grins.

"I'm going to get out now," she chuckles.

Before she is even out of the car, he stops her, "Actually, maybe we can both ask around? And check out some of the stores. Think we can still make it in time if we stop for a few minutes?"

He's stalling for some reason but in the end, she ignores the obvious. Nodding, she looks down at her hand on the edge of her seat, sitting precariously close to his right hand on the gear shift, "I think we'll be fine. We'll both go. I'll start at one end of the street and you on the other. Let's meet in the middle. Let's be out of here at 9 P.M. exactly."

eoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeo

She's looking at some bins of handmade crafts with an insane amount of detailed work in them when a voice from behind her disrupts her train of thought, "Are you from out of town?"

Olivia drops the small box of handmade earrings that she'd been eyeing curiously.

When she turns around, a tall brunette woman with bright green eyes smiles back at her. She's wrapped in a white parka and a red beanie covers her long, straight black hair. "Uh…" Olivia stutters, tilting her head to the side, "Yeah, um, Manhattan. Is it that obvious?" she jokes.

"Oh, we love out of towners. But you're pretty far away from the city. What brings you out to "No Man's Land," the other woman pries curiously.

"I guess we're a little lost. Where exactly is… here?"

The woman perks up with a bright smile. "This is Cold Waters. We're having a Fresh Start Fair. We do it every New Year's Eve."

Olivia closes her eyes. They're supposed to be in Cold Springs, where Donnelly lives. She can see where the mishap occurred now.

"Cold Waters?" Olivia questions with her brows raised to her hairline. "Do you have any idea how far that is from Manhattan?"

"Oh … I'd say you're about sixty miles from home? Though I'm no expert."

Olivia chokes on the air as the words fall from the other woman's lips, "Six… sixty miles? I'd swear we hadn't driven that far."

"Yeah. It happens a lot out here. Time's a vacuum in the middle of the fields."

Olivia swallows, before looking at the bins of the beautifully crafted jewelry. She reaches down and picks up the box she'd dropped.

The other woman sidles up next to her, lowering her voice slightly, "I'm Nikolette, by the way. Welcome and if there's anything you need, let me know."

Olivia looks at the other woman and smiles uneasily, "Thank you. I appreciate it."

Meanwhile on the other end of the street, Elliot walks into what appears to be a small department store. He tries not to get distracted by all of the decorations lining the walls and aisles, instead going straight for the man at the register.

He places his hands in his pockets as he eyes a shelf full of holiday scarves and gloves.

"You in need of some new winter gear?" The man behind the counter, asks.

"Uh, sort of. For my partner, I... I was thinking of getting something for her. What do you suggest?"

"Ah, well you can't go wrong with the matching burgundy ones right there," the other man points to the lower shelf. "They're crocheted by my sister-in-law. Gloves, cap and scarf."

Elliot nods.

The shopkeeper pulls the bundle from its resting place and Elliot notes the way they're all neatly tied together by a white lace ribbon.

"I'll take it. Thanks," Elliot retorts satisfactorily.

"Your partner is very lucky. My sister-in-law gets requests for these all year long. You know, in preparation for the winter."

"Oh really?" Elliot asks, raising his brows as he reaches for his wallet.

"Yeah, it's like her side business. She's really good."

"I'll have to let my partner know. I think she likes homemade gifts. We're from New York City."

"Oh, my sister will love that her stuff made it to the big city. I'm Mark by the way."

"Elliot, " he offers, as he hands some cash over the counter.

"Nice to meet you. Are you guys spending New Year's Eve nearby? You're pretty far from the city."

"Yeah," Elliot hesitates. "We're supposed to be in Cold Springs soon. An old colleague of ours is having a New Year's Eve party."

The other man silently hands back Elliot's change before looking out the windows to the store.

"You're a little off course aren't ya?"

Elliot stills as he gathers the handles of the brown paper bag with the gift inside of it off the counter.

He sighs knowing what the tone of the other man's voice means, "How far? And let me steel myself first. Tonight's been nothing less than a disaster."

"Well, I'd say you're about thirty miles from Cold Springs. Looks like you took a wrong turn, brother."

Elliot shakes his head, "I was afraid of that. I appreciate this," he motions toward the bag in his hands before tucking it under his shoulder to tighten his jacket. He shakes his head as he silently fusses with the material and simultaneously berates himself. Olivia must be freezing, and now he's gotten them lost. He notices the other man watching him curiously and he realizes he must stick out like a sore thumb here. "I'm brooding, aren't I? It's… my thing apparently."

Mark furrows his brows before shaking his head with a small smile.

"Never mind. It's uh… it's not important. You wouldn't know how to get back on the highway, would you?"

"I'm afraid I'm no help actually. I live in Maryland. Just helping out for the holidays."

Elliot nods understandingly, "Thanks anyways."

He's almost out the door when the other man calls out, "You know, the lady who works at the shop a few doors down is pretty familiar with New York City. She may be able to give you and your wife some better directions. She's my sister-in-law," he grins.

Elliot stares back for a few seconds, debating if it's even worth correcting the other man. He mentally notes again how everyone assumes Olivia is his wife, before giving the man an appreciative head nod, "Thanks, I'll do that. You have a great new year."

It both amuses him and concerns him sometimes how natural he and Olivia look together and also how comfortable he is while also holding a bag with a gift for her in it. He stops for a second, silently asking himself if it's natural for a partner to give his female partner a gift like this for no reason. He's done it in the past, but this time is clearly different to him.

He shakes his head, not wanting to overthink it tonight and heads toward the shop's exit, a heavy glass door with spray snow on the bottom portion.

He shivers when a frigid current of air hits him from outside. The air is becoming sharper as the wind begins to pick up. He's pretty sure he'd heard on the radio earlier that there is a 35% chance of snow flurries tonight. He hopes they avoid it, realizing they've had enough adventure for one night already.

He walks out of the store and the doorbell chimes above him as the door closes. As he continues down the long sidewalk amongst other storefronts, he peeks into a few shops that are closed, noticing the brilliant architecture beneath the holiday nuances.

He almost wishes he'd found this place before Christmas. His daughters also have a thing for homemade gifts and he is overwhelmed by the number of tents and tiny shops lining the street filled with just that.

After he passes a few buildings, Elliot finally finds the next open store front. When he walks in, he immediately sees Olivia looking at a table full of scented candles, her hand full of stuff already.

He smiles at her enthusiastic shopping. He has to admit he is a bit intrigued by this part of her, while also feeling badly that they can't stay longer so they can give all the vendors a good once over.

"Hey," he says as he quietly walks up on her. Her head pops up and she gives him a tender smile as if they hadn't just been together the whole way there. His stomach drops into his intestines and he has to clear his throat, "Finding anything?"

"Yeah," she raises her hand. "Stuff I don't really need, but I like it. You?"

"Yeah," he utters, raising the brown paper bag slightly into the air.

"Nice."

"I'd like to think so," he grins back before licking his lips and clearing his throat again. "I actually found some things out too. We're nowhere near Cold Springs."

Her perked eyebrows lower, "I know. I talked to a woman a few stores back. We're in Cold Waters," she says seriously, pursing her lips. "Who names two cities in New York almost the same damn thing?"

Elliot grins and shakes his head, "I feel like the universe is playing with me tonight."

"Well let me pay for my candles and we can go, if you're ready?"

He motions his head in agreement and they both walk toward the lady at the checkout desk.

Before Olivia can pull money out, he hands the woman behind the counter some bills. "On me," he motions toward the candles. Olivia stands with her mouth open.

"Elliot, you don't have to do that. You already bought me Reese's back at the gas station."

"That old lady's aphrodisiac was nothing. I'd get you more if I could."

"Elliot, " she chides, narrowing her eyes at him slightly with a shy smile. "They were… delicious. But they were also…," she whispers. "You don't have to."

He touches her elbow before he ignores her protest and turns to the lady who took his cash.

"Hi ma'am, I'm Elliot. I was talking to your… uh, Mark? He mentioned I could get some directions from you I believe."

"Well sure, hello, Elliot. I'm Nadine. I can certainly try and help a gentleman like yourself with directions," the older woman with blonde curly hair offers. "Where to?" She bobs her eyebrows.

"Cold Springs."

eoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeo

"Are you sure we should be taking any shortcuts?" Olivia inquires as Elliot focuses on the road again from behind the steering wheel.

"I'm hoping we can't do any worse than we have so far."

"Well, let's not miss any exits or side roads this time."

Elliot presses on the brakes gently as they quickly approach said side road where the tall trees tower above them. If it hadn't been dark on the way to that small town, it's most certainly completely pitch black on this stretch of road now. The moon peers from behind the branches of the dense wall of trees and Elliot is forced to turn his brights on.

Silver and gold rays peer through the cracks in the branches and a chill slides down Olivia's arms and she noticeably shivers. Elliot silently turns up the heat as she pulls her black knit cardigan tighter over her chest, hoping to keep the chill out.

She glances at the clock in the car and it reads 9:12 pm. They'd stayed on pace time wise for the most part so she has hope they'll make it to Cold Springs before 10 P.M.

To pass time, she reaches down and picks up the bag with the items she had gotten in Cold Waters. The candle, which smells like apple cider and cinnamon, is what she picks up first. She opens the lid and sniffs the sultry smell. The scent quickly fills the car and she notices Elliot turn his head toward her from her peripheral vision.

"I didn't know you liked scented candles."

"I do. Especially something with fruit in it."

"Olivia likes fruit scented candles. With cinnamon," he says out loud.

She looks at him again, and watches as he now concentrates on the road, remembering how he'd bought it for her. "I do. Turn the lights down low, light some candles and I'm in the zone," she says softly.

"So, what you're saying is that fruits are your aphrodisiac. Noted."

She looks at him from the corner of her eye, wondering what's gotten into him, "You know, that old lady had the right idea with the chocolate. Fruits and chocolate make for some hot sex." She's being bold but that's the second time tonight that he's mentioned aphrodisiacs and the reality of that makes her a little reckless.

"Yeah?" Elliot raises his eyebrows.

She just smiles quietly, watching him squint his eyes as he envisions something and she's not sure she wants to ask for him to tell her. She's got an idea. She'll leave it at that.

"Thank you again, El. For the candle."

He glances at her, his blue irises glowing in the dark from the moonlight peering into the car briefly, "You're welcome. It's late, I know. Christmas is… I never know what's enough. For us."

Again, Elliot figures out a way to thaw her inside out and yet causes her to freeze with his words by saying everything and nothing at all. She licks her lips and places the candle back in the bag. "I was more than happy with the card. It was the gift card for coffee on the inside that really made it."

He grins, "You use it?"

"Oooh yeah , the day after," she smiles. "You saw me walk into the squad with it."

"Stumptown."

"Mhm," she smiles coyly.

"That close by?"

"Eh, it worked. Microwaves help."

He turns back to the road with a light expression on his face and she takes the opportunity to rummage through her purchases again.

She bites her bottom lip and reaches down into the bag again and pulls out the bundle of jewelry she'd gotten. In the back of the pile, she pulls out a piece of cardboard with an antique compass with a long silver chain taped to it and hands it to him.

"What's this?"

She explains what it is as he fingers it in his free hand, "It's a Fusee Pocket Compass. I saw it in one of the antique shops. I don't know why, but it reminded me of you."

Elliot keeps one eye on the road and the other on the item in between his fingers, "Liv… how much did you pay for this? This is a rare edition; you know that right?"

"That's what "Nikolette," the woman at the store, said. And never mind the price."

"Wow," he whispers as he weighs it in his hand and rubs his thumb across the silver. "I… thank you, Liv."

"It's the least I could do. You drove tonight. And bought me Reese's with candles."

Locking eyes with hers, an intense exchange of unspoken words fills the space around them as they glide silently down the two-lane road.

His head bobs in a slight acknowledgement of her words before slowly turning his eyes away, allowing a comfortable ambience to linger between them again as he drives.

"All that seems a little inadequate now," he mumbles jokingly.

A closed lip smile slides across her face as she quickly pats his thigh, not sure why the sudden contact felt necessary, "I'm sure that's not true. You'll get there," she grins.

He gives her a face like "really?" before his expression changes as they hit a small bump in the road. He turns to concentrating on his driving then.

She immediately notices the change in the texture of the road when the dotted yellow lines disappear before she thinks of another quip in order to maintain this lightness embracing them both tonight.

They gradually glide through gravel with dust billowing outside the car, a stark contrast to the vibe inside, until they glide back onto the even black paved road. It, in a way, reminds her of how Elliot's mood changes when they're at work, taking on tough cases day after day, week after week, month after month and year after year.

Weirdly enough, he seems more confident in their directions this time and seems unphased by the change but she feels it. In more ways than one.

In a way, she's eternally grateful that he'd asked her to leave that all behind for just a night. She likes seeing him lighter, freer, more open. She takes a deep breath and stares out the passenger window, thoughts swirling around in her head again, wondering if tonight is some fluke or if something is truly, wholeheartedly changing in not only him, but them.

Reaching for the radio, she turns it up only to find static again and so she just turns it off completely. That's when she reaches for her long-forgotten cellphone and powers it back on.

She sees a missed text from Munch wishing her a premature happy new year and an email notification. She quickly checks it and it's just a coupon for the same coffee Elliot had given her a gift card for. She shakes her head and double checks for any sign of a signal. No bars.

Confused, she looks at Elliot, "We must have gotten some signals at some point, a text from Munch slipped through. Did you notice if your phone had any bars in that town?"

Elliot stills for a few seconds before shaking his head no. "I didn't even notice or think about it. We could have used one of theirs."

"What is wrong with us? Did we not go through training and disaster preparation as rookies? Elliot, I still have no bars and I'm at 50%."

Elliot sighs, deeply, before he pushes the gas pedal, effectively motoring them along this desolate roadway at every bit of 80 miles per hour, "We're not cops tonight…. For the most part," he adds.

"It feels different tonight," she confesses, the words slipping from her lips.

He noticeably swallows, before looking at her from the corner of his eye again, "You feel it too?" he asks so softly, it almost doesn't sound like him.

However, much like most of the night has gone, she barely has time to register his question when they both feel a slight jerk in the car's motor.

Elliot lets the steering wheel go as the car comes to a stop on the shoulder.

Her forehead creases in confusion as they sit motionless on the side of the road.

In a monotone voice, Elliot grasps the keys in the ignition and turns them. As the engine squeals he says, "Liv, we're not thinking like cops tonight. We're thinking like people who don't have to think about what we do."

"Yes, but we don't have any idea where we are, Elliot."

Elliot rubs his forehead before slamming the steering wheel several times with his open palms. "You've got to be kidding me. I'm sorry, Liv."

"What's the problem? Turn the keys again."

"We're out of gas."

"What?" she asks incredulously. "I thought you filled up on the way to get me."

"I did," he says numbly. "There must be a leak or something. I'll go look," he says as he unbuckles his seat belt and opens his door.

She holds his bicep and he immediately stills his actions, "Wait, Elliot. What is this? What's going on with you tonight?"

She watches his neck bobble up and down before he turns to her and lets the belt slide back into the holder. "I'm …," he hesitates.

"El?"

"She met someone."

He doesn't have to continue for her to understand immediately what is happening. Her heart rate quickens as it breaks for him in that moment, just as the anger and disappointment flow through her at their predicament.

His voice vibrates again, "And before you say anything or think anything, no - asking you tonight isn't some rebound. I'm not avoiding anything."

'"I don't- think you're rebounding. Elliot. I don't understand. Kathy left you?" she inquires softly, as if anyone else is around to hear the words tumble from her lips.

"When you hear it out loud, it seems a little more real," he nods slowly, resolutely. "She told me the day after Christmas. She met someone. A dad of a kid Eli goes to preschool with. The funny thing is…" he smiles sadly, "is that I know the bastard and I like him and that it doesn't even sting like it should. Not like it did the first time."

"I'm sorry." The words tumble from her mouth before she can trap them. The placation is mundane and meaningless at this moment but she offers it anyway. She knows how much it killed him the first time Kathy had tried to end it. He was miserable and back then, it bordered on annoying. She wanted to smack him and make him snap out of it. But she understands it a little more now.

Elliot holds her eyes with his own for a long pause before he pulls a loose thread off her shirt, "There's nothing to be sorry about. You being here is enough. You're just… you."

His hand drifts back down to the gear shift in between them and her heartbeat thuds wildly inside of her chest. That phrase keeps repeating in her head when she speaks shakily, "So you're playing that game now. I'm not sure how to take that."

"Am I distracted, Liv? Is it affecting my work? Am I tonight? You're the only person who knows me enough to know. "

He knows how to say nothing yet everything.

The cold seeps inside of her and her skin isn't the only thing starting to get chills. They are seeping inside of her so deeply, she fears she may never feel the way she felt before he existed inside of her. They she corrects herself internally. They… the chills.

"You've been different. I can attest to that. But you're …"

"Don't say it," he brightens up slightly.

She smiles softly back at him before continuing.

"I hope our stroke of bad luck tonight hasn't made it worse for you," she finds herself saying out loud.

"All I know is tonight would be a lot worse if I wasn't with you."

She looks into his eyes, his softening before she purses her lips.

"A lot worse," she whispers. "So, what are we… what are we gonna do?"

While she doesn't expect him to pick up on the double entendre, she certainly does in her own words. What are they going to do? What is tonight? The implication of their ever-changing partnership with this new development in his life isn't buried in the proverbial snow to her either.

It's only been days, there's no way he's thinking what she thinks he might be thinking.

Olivia glances at Elliot who is already staring back at her.

"I had to get away from the silence of that house. The kids don't come home like they did. The twins are at friends' houses all the time. Eli is too young to know..."

"I don't blame you. Not one bit," she finishes in a whisper. "You've gone through so much; you deserve a break."

"Thank you for that," he nods authentically. "I know we don't do this," he continues, taking in her words and formulating his thoughts at the same time she realizes. "But there's always been a reason why. I'm not … I'm not blind to it, Liv. Just… a little time is all I need. This new year."

She narrows her brows and sucks in a rush of air, releasing it on the count of five. She has to register his words because they're tumbling around in her brain unsteadily. If she'd have told herself earlier that they'd be broken down on the side of the road, Elliot's marriage in shambles and admitting these very forbidden things, she'd have laughed before she'd cried. It's that sort of night.

Sitting quietly in her seat, she fidgets with her fingernail and tries to offer something. She knows as well as he does why they don't do this. It's all been laid bare in front of them before, during the case with Gitano and then after with post-Oregon emotions.

"You and this job are about the only things I've got left anymore. I don't want to wreck that; I couldn't take it."

"What's different now?" she asks, pushing out the question into the space between them as if there isn't enough. What is different? She asks herself this too knowing there isn't enough time to think about it with him sitting so closely in the confines of his car. "With us, I mean?" she continues to question, her eyes turning from her nails to the windshield in front of them.

She sees his expression change between a myriad of different emotions in the reflection before he grasps the steering wheel. His thick scarred knuckles whitening due to his grip is all she needs to know about his nerves, yet his expression seems so calm.

"I-" he hesitates. "Whatever you want. I'm just laying it out in the open now. I don't want to avoid the important things - between us - anymore. It's important to me. You're important to me. I want the new year to start off with that being a priority."

" Elliot…" she releases his name in a breath, not knowing what else to say. She is stunned, frozen in place, and she finds the irony in the frost-bitten air a comfort.

She's been frozen in time for far longer than she'd admit. She mentally scrambles for something to use in order to rationalize what he's saying because the pessimism runs far too deep in her. She refuses to acknowledge what he wants. Instead, she tries to deflect. "What's different now? What about our job? Us ," she says so quietly, she fears it didn't come out at all.

He swallows nervously and nods, "I've been thinking. I'm nearing twenty-five years…sixteen of 'em at SVU. I think I need to consider some possibilities. While I'm still able to," he adds quickly. "While I'm still fairly young," he says playfully.

"What possibilities? Spell it out for me, don't speak in riddles..."

" Liv..."

"You decided to trap me in a broken-down car in the middle of nowhere to talk. Then talk. What possibilities? " she asks, and she can feel her brows touching her hairline, the confusion dotting her skin like freckles.

"Walking away, Liv," he responds exasperatedly. He finally says it and it doesn't shock her as much as she'd had first imagined it would. Her stomach still drops ten feet below the car though. She doesn't say anything, she is afraid of what else she might reveal. He continues on in her silence, "Tonight hasn't been any help. This isn't exactly how I envisioned it all going."

"I have to be honest...I didn't even see this coming. Walking away?" she whispers. From us.

She has no place to be upset at the prospect, yet she feels the heat buildup in her chest. Walk away. She'd always thought they'd die in the line of duty before this conversation, with one or both of them laid out for the world to see what was left of them.

"If I walk away, then I can be better for the people in my life I still care about. Believe it or not, what I said five years ago hasn't changed. You're part of my life outside of this job and If I took the next year, to just - start over.…. Shit," he curses, stumbling over his words.

"You haven't thought this through at all, " she says, anger brimming over in her chest. She trains her eyes on him, unable to turn away.

She watches him breathe silently, his hands still on the wheel. "Things with Kathy have been bad for a long time. I don't have to tell you how numb it begins to feel. Routine. To be stuck in a cycle."

"You mean like us..." she states, rather than asking. It just slips out without her thinking. She saves face by continuing before he can deny it. "You were right. The last five years, I've been sitting next to you, looking over at you: in the car, in the precinct, in the interrogation rooms, at a scene, at a bar, at a meeting, at our desks pretending five years ago didn't even happen. We've pretended that you didn't tell me in that hospital corridor that losing me wasn't an option because... Five years of routine have gone by. I wish I knew what you think is different."

He seems stunned really and he should be for throwing this at her right now with nowhere to run. After a few moments he nods numbly, "You're right. I didn't think any of this through. You'll never know how sorry…." he mutters, trailing off.

Instead of continuing the conversation, Elliot reaches for the door handle and slips out faster than she can register it happening. "I misjudged all of this." His words become trapped around her inside the car when the driver door slams shut.

He is upset and she gets it but also doesn't get him sometimes.

She hears him open and close the gas tank and then she hears the trunk open and a cool burst of air fills the interior of the car.

She wipes her mouth roughly with her palm, trying not to let the emotions overflow. Her heart is beginning to crack, so she hopes the cold keeps those crevices from deepening and that the salt in her impending tears will fill the gaps in each crevice.

Taking a shaky breath, she opens her door and steps out onto the gravel lining the shoulder of the road.

She immediately sees him crouching down, looking beneath the car.

His head pops up when she approaches him, "You should stay in the car, you have no coat on. The temp keeps dropping."

She ignores him and wraps her arms around her chest, "Elliot, it's not that I don't…" she stops, the words on the tip of her tongue. Worry fills her gut at what she is about to reveal and how he'll react. Maybe she had misheard him, misinterpreted his words.

He is staring at her, crouched down with a pained look on his face that she can't shake from her mind. Maybe it's too late. Maybe she should just get back in the car.

Fuck it.

"I feel those things too. You gotta know that," she exclaims into the air between them. "It's just, why does the idea of an "us" always have to come at a cost?"

He stands up, brushes the imaginary dirt off his hands, eyes focused on the car, before he crouches down again and peers under the vehicle again silently.

"Come on, Elliot. You know damn there isn't anything under there. Something happened tonight, not just now. Just admit it."

"I wanted tonight to be better. I wanted it to be different. For you," he blurts out from his crouched position, repeating himself. "But all I'm feeling now is that I'm not doing enough anymore. That … I'm not supposed to be this person anymore."

"Did something happen earlier? Before you picked me up?"

He nods.

"What happened?"

"I-nothing. I went in to pay for the gas and as I was leaving, I spotted a couple of kids stealing. I confronted them and told them that I wouldn't make a scene if they just walked away and returned what they stole. They seemed to take it okay until we walked outside. One of the younger boys shoved me against the wall with a knife under my chin. After I showed my badge, they just deflated and got in a Hummer. Someone else was driving."

Olivia lets out a loud breath.

"They followed you?"

"Maybe, maybe not. If it was them following us, they were obviously sending a signal. It made me think. It could have turned out worse. We've been through worse… but it just, I felt different."

"Elliot… "

"I'm going to walk back to that town, get some gas and maybe something to patch the tank with. I'll get a ride back. Stay with the car, Liv. You can't walk that far in those shoes. If you get cold, look in the backseat in the brown bag. I'll try to be back as soon as possible."

"Elliot… you can't walk that far," she protests knowing that he's not in the right headspace.

"I'm gonna try, Liv. I'm more prepared than you are. I'm not trying to fight with you on this. In any other situation, we'd go together. But I want you to be safe and warm. I've got some snow gloves in the trunk with a beanie. I can make it. We have to be within five to ten miles of Clear Waters still. I'll be back. Get in the car. Keep the windows up, doors closed. You'll stay warmer that way."

She hates the idea and can't shake the looming dread in her stomach.

"Please, please Elliot. Don't do this because you think it'll…" be your penance.

"It'll be fine. We can't call anyone. We're stranded, Liv. I've gotta do something."

"You need to keep yourself from getting hurt."

"S'too late for that," he says resignedly. "Wait for me," he pleads and the way his eyes bore into hers sends a pang of guilt through her bones though she knows she shouldn't feel that way.

There are so many reasons why what he wants is going to be disastrous. But then again, he's right and she's not sure if it's his decision to walk away from her right now or his admissions that are bothering her. Or if it's in general knowing if they survive tonight, they will have to live with whatever happens next when the sun comes up in the early hours of a new winter morning, a new year.

"Elliot… " she pushes out again and this time, she moves her feet quickly and finds herself falling into him.

She wraps her arms around his shoulders and he holds her against him tightly with his bare hands. "I hear you. Just… I hear you," she breathes into his neck. His hand moves up and down her back and another set of goosebumps flows over the skin beneath her clothes. "Please hurry," she pleads.

"I will," he says, panting through the cold air as he pulls back boring holes into her eyes with his own. For a second, she thinks that he might try to kiss her. He eyes her face, as if trying to memorize her eyes, her skin, her creases, anything he can hold onto in the next few moments. It bewilders her that tonight has been so dramatically off on top of the lingering change in them.

She wants a chance to feel what he was describing of a future. The hope is blatantly there in his eyes and she wants a chance to feel that hope he's throwing at her.

"Get in the car. Lock the doors," he persists. "I'll take my phone and if I get a signal, I'll try to call for help, then I'll try to call you or text you to let you know what's going on. Towers aren't for miles, though, so don't be surprised if I don't."

She feels her bottom lip quiver, but she nods anyway. "I know," she barely pushes out.

He starts walking away but he turns around and yells, "Get in the car, Liv!"

She can't help the quiver in her bottom lip, and the tears brimming her eyes. Fuck.

Tonight has officially fallen apart and now he's walking away.

She yells back, "You're gonna make it back soon. For your kids. For me. Please , Elliot." she finishes softer than she began.

He nods through the darkness around them and keeps walking. "Get in the car. You'll freeze!" he yells back without turning around.

She begrudgingly gets back into the car and closes the door with a loud bang.

eoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeo

She is startled awake by the chattering of her own teeth.

It isn't really sleeping that her body is doing, rather just a closing of her eyes to help ward off the burning cold that dries the tears around her irises.

One, two, three, four, five… chatter.

One, two, three, four, five... she blows out steam from her mouth and it collects on the windows.

One, two, three, four, five… she shivers so violently, she fears she may start actually convulsing.

Her bottom lip quivers and it hits her harder than before.

She's been fighting it for the last... forty minutes, maybe longer, since she's lost track of the time.

She loves him and doesn't want either of them to leave this earth until she can tell him that to his face.

A crackling noise distracts her and she looks out her window after wiping the dew away to see some of the branches swaying in the wind. The frigid temperatures are causing ice to form on them, weighing them down until they snap at the base. That's what she's telling herself.

She hits the lock button and all of the locks shift into place beneath the plastic barrier of the doors where it's probably much, much warmer, she thinks.

Normally, she'd feel confident enough to protect herself from the darkness, or from what lingers in the darkness, however the cold has seeped so far inside of her by now that she's not even sure she'd be able to move quickly enough to test her reflexes.

She swallows and turns back to face the front. She reaches forward and wipes away some of the moisture on the window from her breath. She can only see a few yards in front of her until it becomes completely black. There aren't any street lights. The only light comes from the moon and it's weaving in and out of the pillowy clouds flowing in from the Adirondacks.

She's seen the snow flurry off and on but she's trying to brush off the panic.

She breathes deeply, trying to build up muscle strength in her chest, anything, to keep her warm. Her knee bounces up and down nervously and the light thumping on the floor board lulls her eyes closed.

She's a detective, she reminds herself. She needs to do better than this next time. She should have known better than to let this happen. He should have too. He should have some type of emergency kit in the car. But she's checked. The only thing she'd found was a lighter in the cup holder in the middle of the front seats. Stupid, she curses herself. No one in his family even fucking smokes, that she knows of anyway.

She had contemplated going outside and gathering some leaves to burn. Or use the paper bag in the backseat to help start a fire nearby but she fears she might freeze or get hypothermia before she gets it started. So, she stays put. Maybe they can try together if he doesn't get the gas.

You survived police training…. Now you're going to freeze to death with Elliot as the last thing on your mind, she berates herself silently.

She raises her hands to her mouth and blows her hot breath into them, the slight warmth not even registering to the nearly numb appendages.

Flexing and unflexing proves frivolous when she hears Elliot's words in her mind, "If you get cold, grab that paper bag in the backseat."

She opens her eyes and turns around in her seat, reaching for the paper bag behind her. Opening it up, she nearly cries when she pulls out the burgundy cap, scarf and thick gloves.

She should have listened to him. She should have listened. She repeats this as she struggles to untie the white silk bow, struggling to slip her shaky fingers beneath the silk.

Once she has the three items free, she hurriedly puts the beanie on her head and pulls it down over her ears, blocking out the blistering cold air that sends sharp pains into her eardrums.

Shakily, she spreads out the scarf and then wraps it slowly around her neck, pulling her cardigan tightly over it to keep the air from flowing inside. Then lastly, she pulls on the neatly crocheted gloves onto her brittle fingers and holds them close to her face, breathing in and out, the hot air from her breath slowly warming the cotton spindles.

She hits the lock button on the car when she hears the crackling in the trees again. She knows her mind is probably just playing tricks on her.

There hasn't been anyone around for miles. She'd have seen the headlights. She'd have heard the roar of an engine. She'd have felt… something aside from the sheer chill in her bones.

Her teeth chatter again. Focusing on her breathing, she thinks about the small bottle of Jim Beam at the bottom of her bag that she'd secretly bought Donnelly.

She briefly contemplates opening it up, almost desperate for the illusion of warmth, but she decides against it. No need to be drunk on top of numbness.

She takes comfort in the sound of the locks latching. It reminds her that she's awake.

Her head whips around with each sound she hears outside and she mentally calculates how long Elliot's been gone. She's long forgotten when he'd left but she already knows it's been far too long for him to be comfortable walking alone in that blistering darkness.

As she closes her eyes, the numbers she'd seen earlier on the digital clock on the console and her cellphone all swirl around in her head, and she tries to use them as a distraction from the piercing air that drapes itself around her skin despite the burgundy comfort that sort of smells like Elliot.

eoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeoeo

She startles awake again.

She twists her body around, or she thinks she is, trying desperately to get out of her seatbelt. To untwist the scarf that is tangled around her body. Her eyes are closed. She can't open them. It's too cold. It's too hard.

He's frozen. His lips are blue. She needs to get out.

She's so lost in her frozen state of mind that she doesn't hear the commotion outside. The locks, eerie noises in the trees and the flurries outside the window are long forgotten about.

That's when the door on her side swings open and a gust of frigid air hits her and it is then that she realizes her fatal mistake. She had forgotten to hit the locks again. Or they must have malfunctioned in the cold and unlocked, her befuddled mind rationalizes.

Two hands are wrapping around her shoulders and dragging her out of the car and she's flailing, trying to use her voice but it's hoarse, paralyzed.

She suddenly remembers reaching for the gun in the glove box. But was… was that just now? Or was that when they were nearly driven off the road?

She can't seem to recall at this moment. Her body convulses and she suddenly can't control her flailing movements, slinging her hands around aimlessly while trying to push off whoever is holding onto her shoulders.

They're going to roll down the hill and into the ditch. She's falling. The weight of the other body is going to fall on top of her and crush her icy, brittle bones.

She feels herself fall forward, going down, down, down … until she's not.

Suddenly, she's being yanked and her body is being tugged in different directions until she feels a hard, flat surface hit her back.

"Christ, Olivia! It's me!" she hears a man's voice grate out into the cold air. "It's me. I'm back. Stop fighting," the voice urges as she feels hands rubbing up and down her arms.

"El?" she barely whispers. "El?" she asks again shakily and that's when she finally gains the strength to open her eyes.

Elliot's pale face stares back at her, his rosy cheeks and nose blatantly showcasing how cold he is as well.

"Yes, Liv. S'me. You're delirious from the cold," he shivers as he talks. "I couldn't make it," he whispers close to her face. "I'm sorry. We'll have to wait till morning. Just calm down, let's get you warm."

She can't help her reaction, she starts crying. The tears flow down her cheeks and Elliot immediately wipes them away with the thumb of his thick glove, "Shh, it's okay. We're gonna be okay."

"I told you. You're … you're freezing," she says as she slides her arms under his unzipped jacket and wraps them around his waist, pulling him in closer. He wraps his arms around her and presses her body against the car, blocking out the wind. He leans his head down and presses his forehead against hers.

"I made it only half way. It took forty-five minutes to walk two miles."

"That town was too far back."

"I know. I know. Mark's sister-in-law mentioned a substation down the street from the store. If I had known..." he trails off.

"We had no idea."

"I'm so sorry, Liv. About everything. "

"You tried, that's all that matters. Now you're back. I thought I was gonna freeze to death alone. I didn't even hear you come back."

"It's windy, the windows were fogged up and you were delirious. I lost my mind for a second when you weren't moving. I had to use my extra lock to open the door. I thought you were frozen already."

"It feels like it," she says as her voice wavers.

"Let's go. Get in. We'll have to get warm together."

She nods and he slowly moves away from her, his jacket floating back into place around his hips. She immediately misses his heat and wants to crawl back inside of him.

Slowly, rigidly, she moves to the front seat and sits back down, and Elliot gently closes the door for her.

Somehow, someway, they have survived twelve years side by side in their line of work, yet have found themselves on the cusps of life and death tonight in the middle of nowhere in subzero temperatures.

"Do you think anyone back in Manhattan has noticed anything is off?

"I don't know, Liv. If they'd needed to get a hold of us at any point tonight, they'd have realized we're not answering. I'm sure they had to find someone else at this point and that might worry them."

"I feel like Munch might know. He probably put on his tin foil hat as soon as I didn't answer his text message earlier."

Elliot snorts, the sound blowing mist into the air and fogging his side window.

"Leave it to Munch to save our asses because you didn't answer his text right away."

She smiles and laughs softly but the lightheartedness lasts only mere seconds because she feels the pin pricks of cold seeping into her toes in the form of frostbite.

'I'm going to lose feeling in my feet soon," she whispers shakily.

Elliot turns to her with concern on his face.

"Here," he says, motioning to his feet. "Take my socks, they're long dress socks so you can double layer them."

She laughs and shakes her head as he motions to open his door so he can step out and remove his socks, "No, El. I can't do that. Then yours will freeze inside your shoes. I'll manage."

Elliot stops mid motion and looks at her with an expression akin to disbelief but it turns to understanding quickly. "You're right," he agrees, shivering and pulling his jacket tighter around him.

"I think your body heat is making it a little warmer in here at least," she offers him. "At least there is more fog on the windows than a minute ago," she jokes.

He smiles a tight-lipped smile, the creases in his cheek pronounced even in the dark car. "I really mean it, Liv. I'm sorry I put you through this tonight."

Olivia takes a deep, sharp breath and draws on the window with her finger in the dew left in its wake. She draws a little smiley face with two lines for the eyes and a half circle for the mouth. It's all she can manage.

"You couldn't have known," she says quietly, tracing over the smiley face with her eyes as she lets the side of her head touch the cold glass. "Do you have a lighter? Or anything to start a fire with?"

Elliot is silent for a few moments, before he shakes his head sadly, "I'm so stupid."

"No, Elliot, you're not. I found this in the backseat cupholder," she offers, pulling out a small orange lighter from out of her pant pocket. "Whose is it?" she asks as she hands it to Elliot, who slowly reaches for it after taking off one of his gloves to grasp it better. He scrunches his eyebrows as he examines the lighter in his hand.

"I… I don't know."

She makes a painful guess, "Dickie? Is he smoking?"

Elliot moves his head from side to side in a sad attempt at denial but she knows he understands she's right, yet again.

"I want to be better for them," he whispers so faintly she barely hears him over the roar of another gust of frosty wind outside of the car.

She looks down at her frozen body and glances at him again, her eyes softening at the look of pure self-hate flowing over him, "You are," she whispers back reaching for his cheek, and rubbing with her thumb as much as she can. "You are."

Elliot closes his eyes from her touch and puts his bare hand atop of her gloved one. After a moment, he pulls her hand to his mouth and kisses her palm and even through the crocheted material she feels his warm breath against her skin.

Her breath hitches and she finds herself wishing she had the courage to tell him she would rather his lips be on hers, but she refrains for the time being.

They might make it home, or they might not, but there isn't a single soul on this earth she'd rather be with tonight, regardless of hypothermia rearing its ugly head in their direction.

Elliot releases her hand only briefly to try and garner a flame from the flick of his thumb against the little gear on the lighter. After a few futile attempts, he lays it gently into one of the cup holders and turns to her with an indiscernible look in his crystal blue eyes that glimmer even in the dim moonlight.

"I can rub your feet if they're getting numb," he offers. "Since you won't take my smelly socks."

She arches her brow and licks her chapped lips, "I think more than hypothermia will have to be at stake for me to ever let you touch my feet unless…" she wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.

In return, Elliot quirks a bushy brow at her comment. She isn't even sure why she even said it and immediately turns red, which she guesses means she hasn't lost blood flow everywhere yet. "I'm just going to sit over here and tuck my feet under my body. That'll help," she continues, ignoring the previous few minutes.

As she tries to maneuver herself, she finds it difficult to move and sits back with a disgusted huff.

She swallows thickly and tries to move her toes but they had long ago gone numb inside of her dress boots.

"Just let me do it," Elliot urges. "You're going to thank yourself when you let me and still have ten toes and fingers in a few months."

She purses her lips, looking at him from the corner of her eye, before sighing.

She clears her throat and tries to lift her legs. She only gets her knee up so far before Elliot's large hand grabs onto her thigh and pulls it the rest of the way onto his lap. She loses her balance briefly before letting her left side drop against the seat. She timidly pulls her right leg forward and Elliot is able to pull it the rest of the way into his lap as well.

He gingerly takes off her shoes, handing them to her as he inspects her frozen feet. He surprises her sometimes, and he does now when he cups both of her feet in between his palms and blows his warm breath on them as he rubs his palms up and down the length of her feet.

"After further inspection," he says a few moments later, "I can gather that these feet are indeed icicles. Do you have anything to say about that?"

She laughs softly at his attempt to deflect from the obvious, "Is there any chance to save them, Doc?"

Elliot narrows his eyes at the two feet in his hands as he continues to rub the top of them with his thumbs.

"I think so… yes." He says seriously, as he leans down and stares intently at the top of her feet. "In fact, I can think of some other ways this process could be sped up," he adds as he rubs his four other fingers down the middle of her one foot, sending a spasm through her body as the feeling slowly returns. He continues his ministrations and she can feel the sensation in a place it has no business being. But she guesses after everything they've talked about tonight, that it isn't too far from what he had been intending in the first place, and she has no desire to fight it.

She feels her eyes droop slightly as he continues to touch her skin. He takes turns moving his hands from foot to foot before he stops and looks at her. "You're not falling asleep, are you?"

"Unh, uh," she mumbles. "Too cold."

"I'll give you my coat, you can't fall asleep. That means hypothermia has settled in," he explains."

"M'cop, I know about hypothermia. M'okay," she mumbles and it's not like she wants to sleep. She just wants to rest.

"Liv?" she hears Elliot call out to her, "Liv? Open your eyes," he pleads. "You gotta open your eyes. Come here."

Before she realizes what is happening, she feels his hands under her arms gently pulling her into him. She falls against his shoulder, her cheek grazing the surface of his jacket.

He pulls her into his lap, her knees bent slightly as he opens his jacket to cradle her inside of it. He wraps it around her torso as far as it goes and begins rubbing her back with his hands in large circular motions, trying to garner some heat in her body as she begins to shiver aggressively yet again.

"M'sorry, El," she barely whispers. "So cold."

"Don't... " he whispers in her ear. "Don't apologize," he urges her.

She eventually leans her head up and Elliot pauses briefly, looking down into her eyes, his blues igniting like a fire even in the darkness. She doesn't know what hits her when he leans down and kisses her cheek before he looks into her eyes again, as if quietly asking for permission to do it again.

She blinks lazily because it's all she can muster when he leans down and kisses her lips with his own. His lips are cold, nothing like she'd have ever imagined; however, her eyes slip closed when he breathes a deep rush of hair against her mouth, and it slips inside of her as if regenerating her own heat.

His lips move slowly, tentatively across her own, tactfully warming hers in a kind of dance.

Her eyes slip closed involuntarily but this time she doesn't worry about becoming rigid with painful chills. Instead, his mouth ushers in renewed sensation in her limbs as the heat he's creating within her slowly thaws out the icicles in her arms and legs.

She thinks about the Elliot she's known for over a decade. She thinks Elliot from their first year would kiss her more tentatively, less eagerly. She much prefers this Elliot with scars on his body and years of regret in his soul because she feels it in the way he touches her through his kisses.

She almost lets her mind drift, wondering if he'd go even further during sex. If he'd take all his deepest regrets and turn them into passion, throwing away the barriers as he'd sink into her and touch his hands over every bit of her soul.

She moves her hands inside of his jacket and touches his ribs though his shirt with her left hand, moving her slowly thawing fingers up and down the expanse of his shirt.

Elliot deepens the kiss then, his tongue touching her lips and it only takes seconds for them both to become aflame. As they part for air, she finds a little bit of strength to sit up. She twists around slightly, pushing herself up in an attempt to stand on one knee on the seat divider in the middle.

The moisture from their lips chills her skin briefly as they part and she uses it as a distraction from the pin pricks in her legs and feet. Elliot's eyes droop low when she wraps her arms around his neck and uses his thighs for leverage for her tired knees.

They don't speak, yet somehow know what the other is thinking. He gently slides his left thigh toward the driver side door, leaving enough space to drag her right knee into. She huffs out a breath when their chests press flush against each other.

She presses her forehead against his for a few moments and they just breathe, his breath blowing softly onto her cheeks.

She feels him mutely slide his hands down her hips until his fingers are flush against the back of her thighs, guiding her other knee atop his other thigh. Elliot doesn't say a word. He's able to let her lead while also being her guide.

He's too good at guiding her. He's too solid at supporting her.

He's too lined up with her body for this to be anything other than what it feels like.

It seems too obvious now how they were going to keep warm for the remainder of the night.

It all seems to come together in an instant how undeniably turned on both of them are and it doesn't seem to matter to either of them if it's awkward as long as they are both breathing when the sun peaks over the horizon at approximately 5 in the morning.

She had been begging for a car to come by earlier, to scoop her up so she could find him and he could guide them home.

Now, she hopes that they have time to finally stop fighting themselves.

Olivia hisses when her numb foot hits the steering and a million pins and needles saw their way through her skin. Elliot slides his thighs together so she can raise her right knee over his lap and slide her other one in the small space by the belt latch.

In an instant, their bodies pancake together in the driver's seat of his car.

He utilizes the close proximity in order to rub her feet again with fervor, using the friction of his bare hands now to stir up something even warmer inside of her.

She silently thanks him for the attention, momentarily wonders if he's a foot man, if his version of foreplay is less about aphrodisiacs and more about the sensations he could pull from her entire body with his hands.

Despite the atrophy in her muscles, she forces her body upwards, lifting her weight on her thighs and moving in closer to him if at all possible. Her hands land on the back of his headrest and she grasps on tightly when his hands glide back up her legs, her thighs, her hips. She stiffens briefly, looking down into his eyes from above him, brushing her nose against his as he squeezes her hips gently in his palms.

The last bit of restraint in her muscles gives out, and the space between their bodies dissipates again as she slumps against him, the middle of her thighs pressed firmly against his lap. Her forehead rests on his shoulder and she immediately feels his face move against her neck as his warm breath caresses her skin.

She finds herself lost in the moment when she turns her head and kisses his neck. His head falls back a small distance to the headrest taunting her to do it again as the thick vein in his neck bobs through his taut skin.

Not able to help it, she reaches down and grabs his hand, placing it on her hips again, sliding it up her shirt, trying to use his heat and his rough skin to warm any part of her body she can.

He is so silent that she wonders what he's thinking. He lets her maneuver over him, allowing her to control, to initiate whatever this is.

"You're not saying much," she whispers in his ear as she slips her arms down into his jacket again, rubbing her hand up and down his back."

"Just want you warm. S'all," he mutters as she pauses to look him in the eyes. "S'working?"

Leaning down she kisses his lips again and this time, he doesn't hesitate slipping his tongue in her mouth, quickly finding hers with his own, fighting for the upper hand and showing no signs of regret or trepidation.

When he flicks his tongue aggressively against the roof of her mouth, she finally loses her battle and lets her weight drop fully onto his obvious erection.

This is not sex, but it's intimate.

This is not stereotypical romance, but it is Benson and Stabler.

It is not random, but it is survival.

His body's reaction doesn't throw her off, she's learned to trust Elliot implicitly over the years because they have to as partners and also, somehow, partnership doesn't quite fulfill the way he's so deeply entwined himself in her, on her.

Like the metallic greens and reds of Christmas garland wrapped around the branches of the family tree, Elliot rests the same way in between her limbs: lax yet solid, draped yet decorative, and luminescent yet bristly against the millions of tiny nerve endings that make up her physical existence.

His bulge undeniably presses into the center of her legs and her breath catches in her throat because it is real.

It's not a hallucination. He came back and she didn't freeze all alone waiting for an opportunity to tell him that in time, like the twinkling green, blue, red and orange lights that shine brightly on the Christmas tree, that they'll also blink one night and suddenly be right where they need to be for this to work.

She finds it mesmerizing that he'd press into her like a puzzle piece, inserting into the last spot - completing the world's largest Christmas jigsaw.

Instead of a star atop the faux tree, it's them glimmering in a light sheen of perspiration as she continuously finds the strength to rotate her hips ever so slightly, grasping desperately onto the back of his head as she grinds against his lap, his jeans twisted and turning against her in perfect unison with her body.

Elliot drops his head back against the back of his seat and guides her hips with his hands, pressing her down harder onto the barrier keeping himself sheathed beneath layers of clothing.

When she feels the cold tips of his fingers, she hisses at the same time he groans against her shoulder.

For some reason, the music from O'Holy Night dissipates from her consciousness, slowly morphing into another song and she is not sure if it's the radio turning on by itself again or if it's purely in her mind, as she and Elliot's voiceless pants fill the interior of the car, fogging the windows that barricade them in from the pitch black of late night.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot

And never brought to mind?

Should auld acquaintance be forgot

And days of auld lang syne?

For auld lang syne, my dear

For auld lang syne

We'll take a cup o' kindness yet

For days of auld lang syne

His body begins to stiffen and she knows he's probably close. She is erratic, her body thinking for itself as she glides her clit in gentle repetitions against him, mirroring the chorus of Auld Lang Syne because it is New Year's Eve after all, and the sickening heat that rushes through her chest and down into her stomach until it reaches between her legs will not soon be forgot because this is Elliot.

This is newly separated, wife moving on, partner of twelve years, in between her legs beneath her in the driver's seat on the outskirts of some mystical town, Elliot.

Suddenly it hits her. It is almost 2012. Nearly thirteen years of partnership. The thoughts bleed into one another as she tucks her face into the crook of his neck. He returns the gesture by burying his hand in her hair, squeezing the tendrils in his palm as she tiredly fizzles out on his lap.

She then silently counts to ten …. Taking in the moment, wondering what's going through his mind.

In hers, all she sees are vocabulary words swirling around like the random leaves out on the road in front of them: Survival. Warmth. Safety. Silence. Restart. Establish.

He doesn't answer her silent query though. They only breathe and Elliot brushes her hair out of her face as she turns her cheek onto his shoulder. Her thighs still burn, yet in a less than consequential way this time. She squeezes them against his outer thighs, her knees touching his hips as she gently rides out the spindles of electricity pulsing between her legs.

She watches Elliot swallow thickly, his muscular throat bobbing with the action when he incinerates from the inside out and the impending warmth she feels is all she needs to know. She leans in and kisses his Adam's apple before raising on her knees to move off of him.

Elliot catches her by her neck and gently wipes his thumb across her cheek before kissing her lightly on the lips and she finds herself frozen hypothetically in place this time.

Questions begin swirling in her mind at this point. He feels good against her lips, and his body had felt too natural beneath hers, but what does this mean? Where do they go from here?

Does it mean something that they fell into bed during a life and death situation or does it mean nothing after tonight?

Is Elliot truly in the right place to want her. Is she willing to let him not fight for his marriage?

His voice stops her thoughts, envelopes her like the warmth of a nice hot cocoa when he speaks into her hair.

"Warm now?" he inquires. Of course he does. Leave it to her to overthink before she's even fully removed herself from his lap. She smiles as an answer to a loaded statement, despite the lingering questions. "Good. I was going to offer to keep trying," he says quietly yet coyly, as he lifts his hips slightly off the seat to adjust his pants.

Olivia slides back into her own seat before adjusting her own slacks before a thought flits through her mind.

"I know you're good at what you do, but calm down buddy," she jokes. Turning serious, she looks at him as she sits up in her seat, moving her toes around as she feels around the floorboard for her boots, "Did you ever get any cell phone signal out there?"

Elliot sits up in his seat and looks at her deadpan for a few moments before he blinks several times.

"Uh, no. I'm not sure I would have been able to dial if I had. We're going to be frostbite twins. Your toes, my hands."

"This must be one helluva dead zone. No cars, no cell towers. Have you ever heard of this actual town or just the surrounding area?" Olivia asks as she fluffs her shirt back out into its regular state.

Elliot glances out his window into the darkened landscape, "Nah, I wish I did. Some things you just remember. Not tonight though," he mumbles, his face void yet his cheeks reddened by a slight blush. He goes silent for a few moments before turning his attention back in her direction, "Are you okay?"

She nods, "'Course. You?"

He nods silently, a neutral look on his face.

"I am sorry, Liv."

She licks the inside of her bottom lip, not knowing exactly how to respond but knowing he doesn't mean tonight but wishing he'd stop apologizing.

She sighs, and slips her shoes back onto her feet.

"I get it," Elliot offers softly. "I do. I'm sorry for dragging you out tonight on top of dropping my life in your lap and… now this ."

"El… I'll be honest with you. I don't know what this is… or was. But I get that you'll need time to figure out what you need to figure out and like the partner I've always been, I'll be around for… for you. Just don't take it for granted," she whispers. "Don't take this new year, new us… for granted. "

"Liv," he stops her with a serious tone.

"It's okay."

Elliot nods. "Then I'm okay, too."

She wants it to be as simple as love and longing, however she knew that it was much more complicated than that.

For him it had been years of push and pull and doing the right thing in his heart, for her it was taking life day by day and hoping for the best even if it meant waiting for something that may never come.

Contrary to what many believe, she was happy with not knowing which she'd end up with.

His voice encapsulates her thoughts and pushes them aside, "It was a first."

"A first? For what?" she asks.

Elliot reaches up and taps the button for the dome light and looks her straight in the eye with a grin.

She quickly understands and rolls her eyes as she pulls her cardigan over her body, once she's gathered herself mentally and emotionally again.

"You were a horny teenager, married at a young age. I'd say your memory is getting a little foggy."

He laughs softly, the creases in his cheeks as he smiles drawing her in further, "The bed of the truck. Not the inside," he says slowly, matter of factly.

"Something tells me you think it was my first time doing that in a car also."

"Was it?"

She takes a few seconds to answer, purposely leaving him hanging as she looks down at her fingers which are comfortably warm in the proximity to Elliot who is staring at her. She clicks the light above them off before sliding down in her seat a little more. "No."

"Really?"

She glances at him quickly before staring ahead through the fog covered windows. "I'm not going to elaborate. But…. that was the first time in twenty years."

Elliot snorts gently. "I think you're the only one who could make me revert to my horny teenage self."

She smiles at the revelation.

"It's nice to know what you're thinking. You're so bottled up sometimes that it's nice to know," she finds herself telling him.

"Tonight means a lot to me," he retorts quickly. "You'll never know how much, Liv."

"I'd like to know one day," she says softly. "And guess what, El? I don't blame you for tonight. Or what you've said or what we've done. What I do blame you for is having the worst timing."

Elliot stills and clears this throat before looking at her again, a concerned look in his eyes. "Liv, if there is … if there's someone else, I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention; you know it never is. I just get worried… with you and-"

Sighing, she turns her body to him and reaches for his cheek, holding him steady as his eyes flit from each of her own.

"I'm talking about you. I was thinking about … my future as well. Whether I was willing to keep doing this job another five years. But you know what? After you asked me yesterday to go to this party with you, after everything tonight… regardless of what we are, I'm stuck here. It's on me what I make of that time and truthfully, I don't think I ever will leave. I've invested so much of my life already doing this job. It's my long haul. That's the problem. When you told me you wanted to … to step back, something cracked inside of me and it's not that I'm angry with you for wanting to spend time with Eli, it's because it made too much sense. But can I be selfish just once regarding us?"

Elliot breathes deeply, his intense blue eyes focus squarely on her every word, his neck vibrating with each swallow, "You're never going move on with me here," he whispers to her softly with a new acute awareness.

She nods, "Because I don't want to. I'm in my forties. I'm happy with where I'm at in my career but it's because … it's because of you," she whispers. "I could take the Sergeant's exam. If I pass, we wouldn't be partners for much longer anyways..."

"Sergeant's exam?"

Licking her lips, she nods. "Yeah," she replies softly. "You wanna move on? So do I. You wanna stay as we are, then so do I. It'll be you who changes things because I can't."

Elliot nods languidly, resting his hands at 6 o'clock on the steering wheel. "I'd like to talk about this more."

"When?"

He shakes his head, "I don't know. I feel like we've talked about a year's worth of things tonight."

"Well, that's what happens when you don't communicate with words. You can only hold them in so long. Maybe that's what's held us back for so long. Maybe that's my resolution this year."

"Mine too," he nods.

"Elliot, maybe also promise me this… that in the new year, when that clock hits 12:00 AM, that you won't be so hard on yourself and that you take into consideration all the good that you do. I'm not trying to be patronizing, but I just want… need you to know that."

He nods again, biting the inside of his bottom lip. "I know you've been through a lot this year with Calvin, Vivienne, Sonya… I want you to take a chance on happiness next year. Wherever you can find it," he whispers softly, gently brushes her cheekbone with his thumb. "And whenever you can find it. Promise me," he finishes, sliding his palm down her face and stopping his thumb by the crease of her mouth.

Her eyes involuntarily flutter closed, slightly watering at the tender caress. The way he looks at her and the way he doesn't understand that once he had uttered the words earlier, she had no choice but to never look back.

"Only if you do the same," she whispers, mouth barely moving as the warmth of his hand seeps into her skin.

His voice vibrates through his whole body she realizes when she feels the cadence of his voice on her cheek, "My resolution is to love more. Hope m'starting on the right foot."

"Batting one for one" she smiles beneath his palm. Lifting her own to his jaw, she swipes her thumb across his rough cheek before lowering it to the back of his neck and pulling him closer.

She watches as his eyelids lower, drowsy and even ...content under her touch, silently preluding her own gentle kiss on his lips.

Unlike earlier she registers his taste which faintly consists of Carmex lip balm and the slight hint of his coffee from earlier, an interesting mix that doesn't faze her as she presses her mouth against his.

He slowly pulls away, the moisture of their lips shine in the silver strips of moonglow that slip through the clouds in the deep royal blue night sky briefly. "If we have to wait here until daylight, we're gonna be in trouble again. S'not getting any warmer out there. We'll have to find a way to get warm," he says, leaning back in his seat with his clasped palms resting on his abdomen.

Olivia leans in, a small smile gracing her lips as she presses hers against his, "I'm okay with that."

He kisses her again, turning his head and deepening the embrace. His tongue slips inside and for a moment, she forgets where they are and a moan emanates from between her lips when she turns for air.

Elliot glides his large palm along the expanse of her thigh just as a loud knock disturbs them both, effectively causing them both to jump slightly in surprise.

A bright white light shines in from outside the car and Elliot immediately turns to her for reassurance and then rolls down the window with the manual knob.

"Officer," he says coolly but full of relief.

"I got a radio call several hours ago concerning two NYPD detectives not answering a call from Manhattan SVU. Captain Donald Cragen said that they were supposed to be attending a New Year's Eve party a couple of hours north of Manhattan last night but never showed up according to reports from attendees. A man and a wife in a town a few miles up said they saw a man and woman come through that matched your description, didn't know they were cops though. Is this you?

Olivia answers him before Elliot gets a chance, "Yes! We've been broken down for at least a couple of hours. We ran out of gas and the town was too far back to walk in the cold."

Elliot nods voraciously, "Exactly. Uh, what was your name, officer?"

"Wainright. Deputy of Clear Waters. I'll radio it in. Your captain will be glad to hear that we found you. He said it was unlike you two to disappear like this. I have some gas in the trunk of the Escape. I'll fill you up. Looks like you might need to turn on the defrosters, windows are a little cloudy," he says, an undeniable grin permeating his lips as he walks away.

Elliot and Olivia look at one another before he leans over and kisses her on the lips once more and she can't help the grin that spreads across her face. He turns the key and the dashboard lights come on with the clock reading, 1:09 AM.

"What about the hole in the tank?" she asks as he watches the sheriff in the rearview mirror.

"Guess we'll need a tow truck too."

It's a new morning and somehow that is more glorious than any ball falling from the heavens at the stroke of midnight in Times Square.

Finis.