The rest of the day lagged for the detectives. They spent hours going over notes, interviewing the victim's roommates and her boyfriend, who unfortunately had an airtight alibi. It was after five when the captain sent everyone home.
"Get outta here before this snow gets any worse," he said, gazing out the window at the snowflakes swirling around above the crowded street.
"You don't have to tell me twice," Fin said, grabbing his coat. Munch and Olivia followed suit.
An hour later, there was a knock on Elliot's door. Olivia inhaled deeply when Elliot answered. She could handle Elliot most days. He was very attractive, she didn't deny that. He was strong - physically strong, with broad shoulders and arms that, when you were folded into them, looked like they could protect you from anything. She'd been attracted to Elliot since the first time she laid eyes on him, receding hairline and all. She had been relieved to see the gold band on that oh-so-important finger, knowing that her feelings for him could never get in the way of their job.
He was smiling at her. Not the normal, everyday smile he exchanges with pleasantries to acquaintances. It was the I'm genuinely happy to see you smile, complete with a subtle twinkle in his eye. His blue eyes that looked wider, brighter beneath his glasses. It wasn't everyday Detective Stabler wore glasses. They were reserved for those days after he got clocked in the face and had a swollen eye. Or maybe once a year when his allergies were acting up and his eyes were constantly itchy. And, every so often, when they worked into the night and his contacts would bother him. It was during those times that Olivia couldn't deny her attraction to him. Something about those glasses transformed him from an intimidating cop to a vulnerable, good looking man with bad eyesight.
She regained her composure and pushed past Elliot into his kitchen.
"Come on in," Elliot said sarcastically as he shut the door. He watched her silently for a few moments. Watched her shrug her coat off, shake the snow out of her hair, and set the grocery bags on his counter. "What're you doing, Olivia?"
"I know you," she said, unpacking the bags. "I know you feel like crap, I know you only go to the supermarket the day your kids come over, so it's been two weeks now. Therefore, I was able to deduce, rather easily, that you have nothing to eat. And you're sick, so you're really not going to the store anytime soon. I come bearing sustenance."
"You don't have to do this, you know," he said, wearily settling himself onto a stool, resting his elbows on the counter.
"I know, and I brought back-up," she said, waving a bottle of Ny-Quil in her hand. "Either you cooperate peacefully, or I'll have to use force. Don't for one second think I'm above drugging you with this stuff. I'll do it."
He raised his arms as if surrendering. Then he rested his head on his fist and watched Olivia get to work. She began rummaging through his cabinets looking for the necessary utensils to cook him up a special pot of her chicken noodle soup. He watched her in amazement as she expertly handled the carrots and the soup vat.
"You never cease to amaze me," he said, his voice quiet and soft, and a little raspy. She glanced up a few moments later to see his eyes closed, his mouth just barely open, letting the air pass in and out.
"El," she said softly, rubbing his back.
"Hmmm," he murmured back.
"Go lay down, I'll bring you some when it's ready," she said, steadying him as he struggled to get up. She watched him as he curled up on the couch, pulling a ratty, old crocheted blanket up to his chin. She smiled to herself, wondering how this man, always in complete control, could look so small on that couch. Sighing deeply, she shook those thoughts out of her mind and when back to her pot.
While the soup simmered downstairs, Olivia quietly crept upstairs to the bathroom. Rummaging around, she found everything she was looking for. Pocketing the thermometer, she wedged the vaporizer under one arm, her other arm laden with extra pillows and blankets. Once downstairs, she stirred the soup while filling the vaporizer. She covered Elliot in another blanket, and laid the extra pillows and one other blanket on the floor next to him. The house smelled amazing, she admitted, congratulating herself on a job well done. She spooned a ladle of soup into her mouth, and she turned the burner down to low. She ladled a bowl of soup for Elliot and carried it over to where he lay on the couch. Olivia settled herself on the soft stack of pillows, carefully setting the steaming bowl of soup on the coffee table next to her.
"Elliot," she whispered softly, lightly tapping his shoulder.
"Yeah?" he croaked, his eyes remaining shut.
"Open up," she instructed, gently slipping the thermometer under his tongue. He kept his eyes closed, and didn't open them until the thermometer beeped a few moments later.
"What is it?" he asked, sitting up slowly, rubbing his temples as he did so.
"It's not so bad," she said, exchanging it for the bowl of soup on the table.
With his long arms, he easily reached around her and picked it up, squinting at the tiny numbers.
"One oh three? Pediatrician says anything above a 102 and you're supposed to go to the doctor," he said, resting his head against the cushions.
"Since when are you such a baby," she teased. Olivia handed him a bowl of soup. "Eat up!"
He held a spoonful up to his mouth, attempting to breathe in the delicious aroma. "If I could smell, I bet this would smell wonderful, thanks Liv," he said. "Where'd you find that vaporizer?" he asked with a smile on his face as he took his first bite of soup. Olivia watched him grimace as it went down.
"That bad?" she asked, looking taken aback.
"I have a sore throat," he finally admitted.
"Ah, the truth comes out," she laughed. "I bought you some of those orange push-ups, in the freezer. And a new loaf of bread, in case you want toast. And O.J. And the good Kleenex with lotion that won't hurt your nose."
"What have I done to deserve all this?" he asks quietly.
Olivia shrugged her shoulders. "I guess I would just hope you'd do the same for me," she replied.
"Okay, but my chicken soup comes from Campbell's kitchen," he said, laughing. "You're going to eat some, right?"
Olivia fixed herself a bowl of soup and sat at the opposite end of the couch facing Elliot. They ate silently for a few minutes, Olivia finishing her bowl before Elliot was even halfway done with his.
"When was the last time you took a sick day?" she asked him.
"When did Dickie have strep?" he asked. "Has it really been that long?"
He sat quietly, looking lost in his thoughts.
"Maureen took care of us then. Dickie slept in my bed with me for four days. Mo checked on us constantly, she never let our tea get cold and we never took our medicine a minute late," he said. "She's just like Kathy – a completely independent, strong woman. She's going to be a great mom, you know."
"She has great parents to learn from," Olivia said.
There was a long pause, and Olivia took the opportunity to take her bowl back to the kitchen. She filled Tupperware with the soup and stuck it in the fridge. Then she headed back to the living room to check on her patient.
"All done?" she asked in her best motherly tone.
"Yeah," he said, peering into his bowl, which was still half full. "Not that hungry, I guess."
"I guess I'll get going then," Olivia said, rinsing out Elliot's bowl.
Elliot looked up at her with sad eyes. She knew he desperately wanted her to stay, but she wasn't going to let him get away with it that easily. She'd make him ask her. Sooner or later he was going to have to learn that it's okay to ask for help.
"Do you need anything else?" she asked, slipping into her coat, hoping her plan wouldn't backfire. In all honesty, it was snowing pretty hard out there and she had no desire to leave the warm house. She'd slept at Elliot's once before, when he and Kathy were still married. They were working a case in Queens and it was really late, and Elliot didn't want to drive all the way back to Manhattan, so she crashed in Maureen's room. She and Elliot had left early in the morning, before Kathy awoke, and she was certainly glad she wasn't around to hear Elliot explain his way out of that one.
"Stay," he said quietly.