First of all, thanks to everyone for your reviews so far. Secondly, for this part, I invented a word. About 5 lines in, the word "smuzzy" means that feeling you get when you're half-asleep, but in a good way, as opposed to groggy. Just humor me, please.

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Elliot woke up before Olivia did. He walked paster her sleeping form, curled up on the sofa. He didn't want to wake her, so he began making breakfast as quietly as possible.

Olivia opened her eyes, unsure of where she was at first. She rolled out of bed and headed for the kitchen.

"Morning," she said, still smuzzy from sleep.

"Hey," he replied, glancing over. Her hair was squashed with bed head, but he thought it was kind of cute. She was wearing her pyjamas, a black tank top and panties. Elliot was surprised. Black? He'd never have expected it.

"Something smells really good," she said as he handed her a cup of coffee. She took it, using the hot mug to warm her long fingers.

"Waffles."

"Mmmm. I haven't had waffles in a long time." She sat at the table. She realized then that Elliot was looking at her intently. She glanced down. "Oh. I guess I should get dressed," she said sheepishly.

"What? Oh. No. Um, make yourself at home. I was just looking at. . . .you have bed head," he said. She smiled easily.

"Yeah. Did you see how many boxes I had from my bathroom? I don't just hop out of bed looking normal," she joked.

"I think you look great," he said. She blushed.

After the waffle breakfast, Elliot had a shower. He wasn't sure why, but he had a tugging feeling in the pit of his stomach. His entire body felt hot and prickly. He turned the cold water on and tried to concentrate on the feel of the water over his skin. When he came downstairs, Olivia was dressed and had cleaned up all the dishes. She sat on the sofa, watching the news.

"You ready?"

**********

The office was relatively quiet for a Monday morning, but Munch and Fin were there. When Olivia went to the bathroom, They pounced on Elliot.

"So?"

"How'd it go?"

"Fine," Elliot said.

"Fine? What happened?"

"We slept. We woke up. We ate breakfast, then we came here."

"Do you believe it?" Fin said to Munch.

"Not for a minute. Say, what was she wearing this morning?" Munch asked slyly.

"Why?"

"What was she wearing?"

"A camisole and underwear," Elliot replied blandly.

"What colour?" Munch asked.

"It doesn't matter."

"What colour?"

"Black." Fin whistled.

"Man, how do you keep your head?" He said, slapping Elliot on the back.

"You two are disgusting," Elliot said with a scowl, but it was then that he identified the feeling he had had that morning: sexual frustration. Olivia returned from the bathroom to a ringing phone.

"Benson," she answered it.

"Hi, is Elliot there?" Inquired a perky voice.

"Who's speaking please?"

"Cindy-Ann," the voice replied. Olivia felt her jaw clench. She considered lying. He wasn't here. He'd had a family emergency. He'd died in a freak snowmobile accident. She went with the truth.

"Elliot, it's Cindy-Ann," she said as if she had known her all her life. Elliot took the phone. Olivia felt vaguely bothered by the phone call all day, even after she and Elliot returned to his house.

"I'll make dinner tonight," she offered. She opened the cupboard in front of her. There was a half-empty bottle of vanilla and a bag of icing sugar. Elliot chuckled.

"Maybe I should go to the store and get a few things," he said.

"Okay, but I can probably put something together with what I've got here," she said, "If not, I'll order out, if that's all right." Elliot nodded. She heart him pull out of the driveway a few minutes later, and she got to work.

When Elliot returned from the store, he noticed the house was darker than usual. Just as he was about to open the door, it opened from the inside. Olivia stood there in the low glare of the hall lamp, wearing a long, flowing, black evening dress.

"Entrez, s'il vous plait. Your diner awaits," she said in an overly-dramatic voice.

"Olivia?" He said, confused.

"Shhhh," she put a finger to his lips, "All will become clear." Elliot played along, letting himself be escorted to the kitchen. She pulled out his chair for him and let him sit down. She lit a match to light the two candles she had placed in the middle of the table, then she glanced in the bags that Elliot had brought.

"Ahh, a merlot will go perfectly with the main course," she exclaimed, pulling out the bottle of wine. She poured two glasses and set them in front of their places.

"The suspense is killing me, if the hunger doesn't get me first."

"You can't rush genius, Elliot. And now. . . .dinner is served." Olivia put a plate in front of Elliot. He burst out laughing. She joined in two seconds later. In the middle of Elliot's plate was a half of a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich, a few carrot sticks, and a granola bar.

"You. . . .outdid yourself," he said between laughs.

"Settle down," Olivia commanded breathlessly. Elliot took a bite of the sandwich, chewing thoughtfully.

"Delicious," he said, "it brings me back to my childhood."

"I ordered Chinese right after you left," Olivia stated. She felt as if her ridiculous happiness would fill the room. Certainly, it seemed to be infectuously affecting Elliot. She sat across from him and began nibbling on a carrot stick.

"So, who's Cindy-Ann?" She inquired quietly. Elliot furrowed his brow at her tone of voice. There was a hint of.....he thought it might be......jealousy.

"Why?" He asked suspiciously.

"It's just, you've never mentioned her," she tried to speak nonchalantly, unsuccessfully. "Are you two......seeing each other?" Elliot reevaluated her voice. It was full of more agony than jealousy. He wondered what he could've done to hurt her. The wait before he answered nearly killed her, silence suspended between them in the glow of candlelight.

"Olivia, Cindy-Ann is my niece. She just called to say that she's getting married. I would've mentioned her to you, but it never came up. What's wrong?" He said, concerned.

"Nothing," her voice broke in relief. She cleared her throat and picked up her glass. "To teamwork," she toasted.

"To partners," Elliot echoed, touching her glass with his. After dinner was over and the lights were off, Olivia lay in bed, thinking. She ran over her feelings and actions again and again. The dancing in her old apartment, dressing up for dinner, candlelight, the indescribable pain she had felt when she thought he'd been dating someone, and the indescribable joy she'd felt when she'd seen him laughing.

"Shit!" She swore under her breath to the darkness.

She was in love.

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Sorry for the wait. You can't rush genius. :-)

Please review!