She stirred when her son basically bulldozed her as he rolled himself over her body in an attempt to wake her up.
"Mom, come on. Get up," he said in a voice far too loud for what she was sure was the ass crack of dawn.
And she was right. With one eye barely opened, she could see the clock on her dresser. 5:30 a.m.
"Noah," she groaned. "Go back to sleep."
He smacked his tongue against the roof of his mouth in response.
"No," he sassed.
Of all the things he could have inherited from me, it had to be the sass?
"Then go watch cartoons, we're sick and I'm tired."
"But do you smell that?" he persisted and she rolled her eyes and sniffed the air.
Bacon. The man was making breakfast at 5:30 in the morning.
Fucking marines, I swear.
She hadn't even had bacon in the house. He'd woken up and went shopping at 5 a.m.
Jesus Christ.
"Fine. Go eat if you're hungry. I'm going back to sleep."
The kid always seemed to magically get better whenever food was involved.
"I want you to come," he whined.
"Noah, I told you I don't feel good. And neither do you. So either go back to sleep or go out there and hang out with Elliot," she instructed, grabbing his pillow and covering her head with it.
The boy sighed dramatically and removed the pillow from her face.
"But I don't know him. What do we talk about?" his voice had turned quiet, timid.
"He's easy to talk to, okay? Just go out there."
He jumped off the bed and grabbed her one hand with both of his, tugging.
"Please, mommy. Please, mommy. Please, mommy. Ple—"
"Fine!" She all but screamed at the kid. Mornings like this were one of the many things other moms just happened to leave out of their "joys of motherhood" lists.
She let him lead, her eyes still half closed. Her hair was a disaster, she was wearing a tank with no bra and her pajama shorts had crinkled in the night. She hadn't realized any of that until they walked into the kitchen and Elliot looked her up and down with a smirk.
"Well, good morning to you too," he teased when he noticed her hardened nipples poking through her thin white top.
She looked down and immediately crossed her arms over her chest.
"It's cold," she rolled her eyes.
Noah looked up at them quizzically.
"What are you guys talking about?"
"Nothing," they said in unison.
Elliot returned his attention to the sizzling meat in the skillet, a shit eating smile still plastered across his face.
"I'm making the works, what do you guys want?"
"Pancakes!" Noah shouted at a forbidden volume.
"Sleep," she grumbled as she walked back toward her bedroom to get a robe.
When she returned, Noah sat in front of the tv munching on bacon.
"Why'd you cover up?" Elliot whispered flirtatiously as she poured herself a cup of coffee.
"Because you suck at subtlety."
"Au contraire. I rock at subtlety. I just got distracted," he argued.
"I'm sure you did."
"Can you blame me?"
"Yes," she shot back and he recoiled a little, coming to the realization that she wasn't in a good mood.
She felt kind of bad when he returned his attention to cooking and sighed as she put her mug down and stepped behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be a bitch," she whispered.
"It's okay."
She placed a soft kiss on the back of his neck. "No it's not."
"It's early and you're sick. I get it."
She wished he didn't feel so obligated to dismiss her bitchiness all the time. Fifteen years ago, he'd have called her on it. But now he felt like he owed her. And he did, in a way. But she didn't like the way he let her walk all over him.
"I miss the Elliot who used to call me out on my bullshit," she giggled lightly, her hot breath raising goosebumps across his skin.
He turned in her arms and pushed forward so her back was flush with the counter. Her thighs clenched involuntarily at the force and her breathing hitched when he laid his palms flat on either side of her.
"Give me some time to earn the right to do that back and I promise to annoy the hell out of you," he smirked and looked over her shoulder to make sure her son wasn't watching before stealing a quick kiss.
She smiled. It was all a little surreal. This man who had only ever been a fantasy was standing in her kitchen cooking, kissing her, fawning over her.
When he turned back around, she let her eyes wander. He wore a tight white tee and boxers. His ass looked fine as always. His arms…damn his arms. She felt jolts of electricity course through her body at the thought of coming undone in those arms. It would be good—no, great—she had no doubts. And she wanted him. More than she'd ever wanted anyone.
With other guys, it was mostly physical. With him, it was a connection of two souls. And while she could be happy for the rest of her life with that alone, she knew touching him and being touched by him would transcend any sexual experience she'd ever had. And it was all because of that emotional connection.
"You're drooling, Captain," he said, not bothering to face her, and she smiled.
"Can you blame me?" she repeated his earlier sentiments and grabbed her mug, giving his ass a playful swat as she walked out to the living room.
"Whatcha watchin, kid?" she asked, threading her fingers through her son's hair and sitting down next to him.
"Power Rangers," he said, eyes fixed on the screen.
"Ah. I used to know an actress who got fired from one of those movies."
He couldn't have cared less.
Olivia laid down and covered herself with the afghan that laid in a heap on the ground and fell fast asleep.
About an hour later, she awoke to the sun beaming through her living room window and a couple of whispering voices deep in conversation.
"So then we decided to ask her to be Eli's godmother," she heard him tell her son.
"Woah. My mom's pretty heroic, huh?"
"Very heroic," Elliot nodded.
Noah smiled and shoveled a forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth.
"That's cool that she rescued your wife and son. She rescued me too. That's how she became my mom."
She was curious to see how the conversation would play out, so she faked staying asleep.
"She always wanted to be a mom. I'm so glad you made her one."
"Me too," Noah grinned.
A puzzled expression overtook his young features.
"What's up, bud?"
"If you have a wife, then why were you kissing my mom?"
Elliot's mouth dropped slightly ajar and he wasn't sure what to say.
"The tv has a reflection, you bozos," Noah deadpanned, eliciting a hearty laugh from the depths of Elliot's stomach.
He considered the question for a moment, not sure that he wanted to get into the complexities of dating after losing a spouse and tried to give the simplest answer possible.
"My wife died last year," he said softly and she felt her heart shatter.
"Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you sad," Noah panicked.
Elliot laid his palm on the kid's shoulder and assured him that it was okay.
"She's in Heaven now and I know she's happy there," he smiled comfortingly.
"She's with my birth parents."
He felt a surge of love for this child who he hardly knew. This child who was wise beyond his years. This child who didn't have a dad. His heart ached to change that. He'd always hoped he'd be part of her children's lives, but he never imagined it could be as a father figure.
He was all Benson. DNA be damned. Every bit of this kid exuded Olivia. And he knew that was the very reason why he'd fallen in love with him so quickly, maybe even quicker than he'd fallen in love with her all those years ago.
"Yeah. Yeah, she is," he managed.
"So are you dating my mom, then?" Noah pressed.
Elliot smiled. Straightforward, to the point. Definitely a Benson.
"You know, I'd like to. Would that be okay with you?"
His palms grew clammy as he awaited Noah's answer, which he was taking his sweet old time coming up with.
"Yeah," the boy nodded. "It's just team me and mom but I'd be okay if you joined the team."
His charming grin returned and he took a sip of orange juice before thanking Noah for being so welcoming.
"Do you love my mom?"
The orange juice caught in Elliot's throat and he jumped a little in his seat, stunned.
Well shit. What do I say to that?
Noah was staring at him intently, waiting for a response.
"Uh…yeah—yes. I do love her. Very much," he smiled, tilting his head slightly to the side, nervously awaiting her son's reaction.
"Cool," the kid nodded and returned his attention to his breakfast.
Oh? Well that was—easy?
Olivia's heart swelled and she stayed still for a moment to see if they'd say anything else, but after a few minutes of nothing but the sounds of chewing filling her apartment, she got up and walked over to the table.
"This looks good," she mused, preparing herself a plate. "So, what did I miss?"
"Oh, nothing," Elliot said.
"Just some guy talk," Noah agreed.
She smiled to herself and felt Elliot eyeing her. He knew she'd heard. Her gaze rose to meet his and she flashed him a wink. For the first time in over a year, he finally felt at home.