Influenza

Chapter Twenty Eight

Disclaimer: Nah, the show isn't mine, and neither are the characters. Blah.

A/N: Okay... the naughty list, that's not all Elliot's cracking it up to be. Mostly, it's just him joking with her. She argued with him on the subject, and he took that and ran with it. He's not going to try and pressure her or anything, it's just an inside joke that they have, and Olivia knows that just as well as he does. I didn't mean to give anybody the wrong impression with it.

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Christmas Eve

11:36 PM

Stabler residence

"Every time a bell rings an angel gets its wings." the TV claimed. Olivia yawned, switching positions on the couch, as she and Elliot waited for the movie It's a Wonderful Life to end.

"I still can't believe you've never seen this before tonight," Elliot said, still in slight disbelief.

She shrugged, "I've never really had a real Christmas before, Elliot. At least not as an adult, hell... not even as a teenager. Before tonight, I never had the occasion or opportunity to see it."

He snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. It was hard for him to imagine how she had been treated while growing up, being from such a large family himself. Second to oldest, younger than his only brother, he was normally the one to watch his two sisters, aged four and six years his junior. When his brother went to college, the year of Elliot's twelfth birthday, Elliot became the honorary babysitter, and never got a moments peace before his sixteenth birthday, when his youngest sister turned twelve, and thus had to watch her younger sister.

In any case, though, Elliot had been the protector of his sisters. His father, a cop just as he turned out to be, was almost always on the job. That led his mother, a shorter woman of only 5'2, weighing no more than a hundred and five pounds, to watch the children. When his sister turned fourteen, during his senior year, and decided she was old enough to date, he was the one who warned away her first boyfriend, a guy he knew well, who had a thing for younger, inexperienced girls. Rachel had hated him for more than a month after, but when her friend started dating him, only to be dumped after he got what he was after, she was thankful.

The fact of the matter was, Olivia was an only child, most of the time ignored while her mother was passed out drunk on the couch, or shacking up with a new guy in her room. Elliot had been a part of a loving, large, devout Catholic family, and didn't know the loneliness that she often felt. "Well," he replied, holding her closely to him, "that's no matter anymore. Christmas around here is always an event. You'll see."

She grinned, resting her head on his shoulder, "I already have, Elliot. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

The TV faded to black, then the credits began to roll. "So," he said with a sigh, as he clicked off the TV, throwing the remote to the side of the couch. "Twenty minutes until Christmas."

Olivia couldn't help but smiling, "Oh yeah? Looks like your naughty list plan isn't turning out so well."

He shrugged his shoulders, "There's always next year– and besides, this one's not over yet."

She arched an eyebrow, lifting herself up on her elbows, "Might as well be," she told him, "I'm exhausted."

"Yeah," he admitted grudgingly, "so am I."

"Well," she told him, "we'd better head to bed before Santa Clause gets here, huh?"

"Oh yeah," he replied, "wouldn't want the big man to skip us just because we've not gone to bed yet. That would be tragic."

Shoving him playfully, she got up from the couch, grabbing hold of one of his hands and pulling him with her. "Come on, I'm tired, we've got the weekend off, and I intended to sleep at least nine hours straight."

He grumbled a response, but followed her into his bedroom anyway. So what, he hadn't gotten her on the naughty list that night, but there were other days. And besides, he was a romantic at heart, and when they finally did get their names on the list, it definitely wouldn't be planned.

XXXX

When Olivia woke up in the morning, daylight was streaming in through the curtains, casting an orange ember on the dark wood floors of Elliot's bedroom. His arm was draped around her protectively– or possessively, but she preferred the former over the latter– and the softness of his regular snores was filtering through the air. That it was Christmas morning was a vague recollection in her mind, and she didn't pay much attention to it, much less do anything to acknowledge it. However, she did come to the conclusion that this was the best Christmas she had ever experienced so far.

A glance at the alarm clock to her right showed her that it was just after eight in the morning. A bit earlier than she would have liked to wake up, but still a good eight hours of sleep, give or take ten to fifteen minutes. Much better than most nights, when she was called in early for work, or didn't get into bed until well into the morning hours.

His head was hidden in her back, and she could feel his breath through the sheer fabric of her tank top. His fingertips gripped her arm softly, the touch reassuring him that she was still there. It occurred to her how strange it was that he was a cuddler, since he did his best to live up to the "tough guy" routine when at work, or anywhere else, for that matter. Not that it was something she minded, oh no, exactly the opposite. She preferred that he cuddle, if only so that she didn't feel awkward when she did.

As the clock clicked to 8:11 AM his breath turned regular, stronger from waking. She turned in the bed to face him, meeting his bright blue eyes with a smile. "Good morning, sleepy head," she whispered to him, as he yawned and stretched, in a attempt to wake himself further. "It's only a little after eight..."

"That early?" he asked, disappointed as she had been.

She nodded, and stretched her arms out as well, "You wanna eat breakfast first, or wait until after we finish off the presents."

"Well," he replied, sliding out of the bed, "there aren't very many presents left, so we might as well do those first."

"Okay," she said, following him out of the room and into the living room, and sitting down next to him in front of the Christmas tree. She reached out for the smaller of the two boxes she had for him, handing it to him, and telling him to open it first. He did the same, handing her the smaller of the two boxes that he had left for her.

"Then you can open this one first." he told her.

They both paused for a second, waiting for the other to begin opening their gift first, before growing impatient and tearing into the wrapping at the same time. Olivia's box was slightly larger, so it took her a moment longer to get her's open, and when she did she was slightly confused.

"Wow..." was all she could say. They were heels, black, and very strappy. They were beautiful, she admitted, but Elliot of all people knew she didn't wear high heels, if only because she had nothing with which to wear them. "Thank you." she said, in a questioning tone.

He laughed, "Just wait a moment, and you'll understand." he promised, as he looked back down at his gift. "This is wonderful, Liv. Thank you."

It was a large picture frame, that held ten different pictures, some big, some small. A few were of the NYPD picnic, with him and Olivia, along with Fin, John, and Cragen. There were a couple of him and Olivia together, since his divorce, but most were of him and his children, throughout various stages of their lives. It had no particular shape to it, and would take up most of any wall, but all of his were bare, so space wouldn't be a factor.

"Okay, now can we open the others?" she questioned, impatient to find out why she needed heels. He smiled, picked up the other box, and handed it to her. With a grin of her own, she took the box, then gave him his.

"Geeze," he grunted, "what do you have in here? Bricks?"

She rolled her eyes and began to unwrap the present, and he followed her lead. He got his open first, and looked over at her with a smile, "A laptop?"

Olivia shrugged, "Have you seen yours lately? You, mister, have some serious rage issues."

"I know how much laptops cost, Olivia, are you insane?"

"Now, see," she replied, "I would be, if I didn't have a friend who works with Dell, and who got me a really good deal on a slightly used computer."

"It's used?" he asked.

"Not like you're thinking." she assured him. "You know, when you got into the shops, and they have the tester computers? That's what yours was. It was on the shelf maybe a month, Mark cleared the hard-drive, stripped the memory, all of that, and it's as good as new, and three hundred dollars cheaper." She shrugged and opened her box.

When she saw her gift, she actually did gasp. "How did you–"

"Kathleen noticed you looking at it when we were at the mall," he replied. "She said you were 'totally taken'. Kathleen and Liz also helped me pick out the shoes," he admitted, as she took the dress out of the box. An envelope fell onto the ground, and she looked up at him, as if to ask what it was. "Open it." he told her.

So she did. Taking out the tickets, she was shocked, if not confused, "I don't understand..."

"You always said you've never learned how to dance," he told her with a shrug. "I figure, if you're going to have the perfect dancing outfit, then why not have the occasion to use it."

"How long is the course?"

"Six weeks, one night a week, two hours a night. It's a couples only thing. I'll warn you though, I'm not the greatest dancer, so this isn't going to be a piece of cake."

She let out amused chuckle, "I can't believe I'm going to be taking dancing lessons. Wait..." she looked at him, incredulous, "do I have to wear the heels to the lessons? Because, I'm not sure if I can even walk in them without twisting an ankle."

He laughed himself, "Let's make sure you can walk in them, and dance fairly well, before we put two and two together."

Sighing in relief, she replied, "Thank God."

"One condition though," he told her. "Fin and Munch, they don't hear about this, at least not until after the lessons are over."

She gave him a look, as if to ask if he was serious, "Are you insane? I don't want them to know, either. You know I can't dance to save my life, but the subjects never come up with them before, and I'd rather they not know."

He nodded, "Your secret is safe with me."

XXXX

"Olivia?" he called out from the living room. "Are you not changed yet?"

"No!" she yelled in reply. "Give me a minute, why don't 'cha?"

"I've already given you fifteen."

He could hear her groan from the bedroom, and then the click of heels on hardwood floors. "Elliot Stabler, I am going to kill you for this," she mumbled loud enough for him to understand, as she opened the bedroom door and walked out into the livingroom.

"Now why would you want to go and do a th–" he stopped his sentence short, when she came into view. After a few seconds of silence, she cleared her throat to get his attention, "Yeah... I, uh..." he let out a deep breath. "Wow."

"Looks okay?" she asked, smoothing out her dress nervously.

"You're kidding right?" he questioned, getting up from the couch. "You look amazing."

Remembering her earlier thought about what the dress would do if the wearer were to spin in a circle, she did exactly that. It flared out as she twirled, and she nearly tripped in her heels, and had to right herself quickly, if not she would have fallen. "Oops..." she said with a sigh, "guess I need a little more practice, huh?"

He walked over to her and pulled her into his arms, fingering the pearls around her neck. "You are the most amazingly gorgeous thing I have ever seen."

She couldn't help but blushing, but couldn't come up with an appropriate reply, so instead she simply kissed him deeply.

When she pulled away he grinned, "Well, if that's not a thank you, I don't know what is."

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A/N: I hope nobody is disappointed. Anyway... please tell me what you think of it so far! I've said it before, I live for feedback! It's what keeps me writing.