"There a reason you're up here without a coat?"
"I'm conducting an experiment to see how long it takes until I get frostbite," she said sourly.
"So I guess you don't want your jacket. I'll just throw it onto the street. Some homeless person might like it. So warm."
She didn't answer him.
"You know, what you said last time we were up here... I do understand. I always have, I just was having a hard time of it a while ago. You caught me at it, too. But, uh... seeing as your busy being a scientist, I'll just wait until later. Your jacket's over here." He placed it on the barren stone planter. Lingering for a few minutes, he studied her hunched frame, hands tucked in her armpits, trying to keep warm. Her windblown hair, locks flying in front of her face as the wind blew from behind, making her shiver. He couldn't leave her alone up here, even if she was conducting ground breaking environmental tests. Picking her coat back up, he walked over to where she was looking at the city. Opening her coat, he let it rest on her shoulders, and she immediately hugged it closer to her body. "Things aren't so great anymore, huh?" he said quietly, more of a statement than a question.
"Munch, leave it." That was her warning. That was always her warning, to say his last name in a semi-threatening tone, but he always ignored it and plowed ahead.
"I don't suppose this has anything to do with this last case, does it?" This wasn't really a question either. He knew all the answers, he just needed to put them in the form of questions to get her to talk. If he didn't, she simply wouldn't respond at all. She'd keep it all inside until the apocalypse and no one would be the wiser, or so she thought. Where Elliot shoved, he prodded gently, teasing and needling his way into a confession that left both of them feeling better. Where Cragen forgave, he laid down a guilt trip that left her sprawled on her face and he would help her back on her feet. Where Fin was indifferent, he cared so much he thought that one day his heart might burst from all of it. They all had their ways around her, taking different paths to her heart and each holding a piece in his hand. They were her protectors, though she might deny the need, or want, for them until she could no longer breathe. They were her mentors, although somehow she always wound up teaching them more than they had taught her. She was for them, and they were in turn for her. Even outnumbered, she held them all in the palm of her hand. There was no choice in the matter for them.
"Not really." She had relented quickly, and this surprised him, though he never let it show.
"I'm sorry."
She snorted. "Are you really?"
"Olivia, no matter what I say about Stabler, he's still a good guy. Despite how he blows things out of proportion, how he beats up everyone when he's hurting, how he denies himself air when he needs it most, he's a good guy. And I can't tell you how happy I am that you finally found a good guy, and how much I hurt when you find a bad guy, or the good guy turns bad.You don't have to believe me, just entertain me when I say that. That's all I ask. Well, that and one other thing. When the good guy starts going bad, don't let yourself stay there, no matter how much you love him and no matter how much it hurts to leave. Do that, not for me, but for yourself. You deserve a guy who's constantly good and never turns bad. The right guy. The one guy."