Rating: T, this one is all fluff really
Request: Home for Christmas x Bensler
Spoilers: SVU - S9 and forward OC - S1 & 2
Trigger/content warnings: alcohol, references to extended family, family environment during the holidays
.
.
Journey's Start: Season's Meetings
.
.
"I still don't understand why it couldn't just be you and me." Noah was dragging his feet through the powdery snow, his eyes downcast and stormy with disappointment.
Olivia exhaled, summoning her patience through the vapor that it created. "It's important to spend time with people you care about during Christmas. Remember, I explained that to you? It's just a visit, and there'll still be plenty of you and me time left. Okay?"
"I guess." They plodded on for another beat or two, then: "Why do you care about them, though? We don't even know them."
She stopped this time, causing the curly-haired youngster to bring up abruptly into the back of her coat. "You don't know them," Liv corrected. "I've known them since long before you were born."
He met her gaze uncertainly. Noah wanted to remind his mother that she'd told him something similar the time she'd wanted him to meet his 'Uncle Simon' - which had also been a waste of his time - but he thought better of it. Shoving his hands deeper in his pockets, they started off again while Noah turned over his understanding of family in his mind.
His dad was dead … grandma still in some kind of hospital; he wasn't sure if Uncle Simon really even existed. Then there was Ellie, who Grandma Sheila had liked to talk about, but he didn't exactly know where she fit. It had almost always just been him and his mom - how was he supposed to help it that he liked spending Christmas with just her?
They started down another street and in short order came to a stop in front of a door in an older brick building. The place had modern upgrades to the windows and doors, but had maintained its older wrought-iron details. It made Noah think of A Christmas Carol.
Olivia took a deep breath before she knocked. It had been Kathleen who had extended the polite invitation to come by on Christmas to visit, and Liv hadn't been able to think of a good reason to decline. She had a soft spot for every one of Elliot's kids - a spot that felt slightly less inappropriate in Kathy's absence, but still somehow unmerited. With the majority of El's time since his wife's death spent undercover, things between them had necessarily remained up in the air - where they couldn't be discussed. Even with the years, the distance, and Kathy's death between them, cryptic silences seemed their preferred language.
Liv knocked and resigned herself to the polite formalities of the day. Elliot, as far as she knew, wouldn't even be home; he was still out playing Eddie Wagner somewhere, perhaps snuggled up with his red-headed Albanian friend. All she had to do was make pleasantries with Bernie and the kids, enjoy some wine, and keep Noah in check for a bit.
Bernice Stabler opened the door with a bright smile, a mug of what looked like apple cider in hand. From behind her Liv could hear the murmured sounds of the five kids and their respective partners chatting spiritedly. There was the smell of Christmas: sweet and spicy, aromatic, adrift on the apartment's warmth.
"You made it!" She looked down at Noah curiously. "And who might you be, young man?"
"I'm Noah Porter-Benson."
"Well, Noah Porter-Benson, merry Christmas. Make sure you wipe your boots; come on in."
Olivia watched her son's face scan the upscale apartment, a hint of jealousy in his gaze at the space and character it had in comparison to their own. She helped Bernie with the jackets, hats, mitts and scarves while Noah went unhurriedly toward the family room.
"Merry Christmas, Bernie. Thank you for thinking of us."
"What can I get you to drink, dear?" the old woman asked over her shoulder.
"Oh - whatever's convenient," Liv answered as she followed along up the hall.
The large living room that made up one side of the apartment's biggest space was impeccably decorated, and brimming with people. Maureen with her husband, Elizabeth and her fiancé, Richard, his girlfriend, Kathleen sitting on the sofa with …
Liv stopped short in her inventory when she recognized Jet from Elliot's task force. She had a bottle of beer tucked between her knees and was holding Kathleen's hand.
"Hey, Jet," Olivia grinned, smothering the amused chuckle that climbed up her throat.
The pale young woman blushed a bit and nodded. "Captain Benson. Happy Holidays."
She noticed Eli off by himself near the tall, beautiful Christmas tree, just as Bernie was back, pushing a fragrant, warm Christmas beverage into her hand.
"Everything looks wonderful," she complimented, her eyes bright with the cozy contentedness of it all. It was somewhat overwhelming, for a woman so used to living without extended family, and she pushed back against the tide of emotions that moved to envelop her.
Noah was hanging back, a little shy, uncertain what to do or who to talk to, so Liv bent close to his ear and suggested he go say hello to Eli. There were six years' age difference between the two of them, but it was still the narrowest age gap in the room, so she crossed her fingers.
She sipped her drink - which was, it turned out, eggnog - and hovered among the Stablers, listening to their smalltalk. It was wonderfully normal, their talk of careers, starter homes, New Year's wishes. Olivia forgot, for a moment or two, how unaccustomed she was to this sense of family.
As the rotation of chatter in the room shifted, Kathleen finally made her way over to Liv. "Thanks so much for coming!" she smiled.
She had grown up so well and beautiful, and Liv's heart ached with the joy of it. Watching Kathleen struggle the year after Eli was born had been terrible - it definitely magnified the pleasure of seeing everything the young woman had become.
"Thank you, again, for extending the invitation. The place looks incredible; it's just a shame that your father couldn't get away from work."
Kathleen gazed at Olivia with confusion, her nose crinkling. "Dad's not working - he's here. We sent him out on the terrace to fix part of the Christmas lights."
As if the thought of him had summoned his presence, Elliot burst into the room like Yukon Cornelius.
"Ho-ho-holy crap is it ever getting chilly out there!" he announced, shaking snowflakes from his hat and scarf. "Good news is, I think I got those lights wor - " he looked up, stopping short when his gaze landed on Olivia.
The mug of eggnog in her hand trembled nearly imperceptibly as she drank him in, his cheeks pinked from the cold.
His cheeks.
His beard was gone. The realization hit her dead in the center of her belly as the implications of what that really meant made her head swim.
He's home.
Elliot cleared his throat and tugged his hat from his head, moving to take off his boots and jacket before too much water dripped onto the floor. Nervously, Liv slid her half-empty mug onto the kitchen island and smoothed a hand over her hair, which she had plaited into a wispy French braid. She shifted her gaze from the kitchen, to the tree, to the windows in her effort to avoid the appearance that she was staring.
He pushed up the sleeves of the blue-gray sweater he was wearing as he crossed to where she was standing. He cleared his throat as the sounds of everyone talking closed back in around them like Moses releasing the Red Sea.
"You're here," he stated.
Liv gave a shallow nod. "I am - and Noah is, too." She tipped her head in the direction of her son and his, side by side at the doors to the terrace. Eli was gesturing animatedly and pointing outside, perhaps explaining something, while Noah listened intently.
El watched the two of them for a brief moment, struck by the mismatched boys: the older tall and dark like Olivia, while the curly-haired younger one had Elliot's own steel blue eyes and lopsided grin. He thinks there must have been some lurid mockery involved on the Universe's behalf.
"I didn't realize you were done with your UC assignment."
His fingers went immediately to his naked chin, acknowledging what she had read into it. "We arrested and arraigned a chunk of the KO a couple weeks ago. I've been, uh … decompressing, I guess y'could say." Elliot glanced into her mug on the counter. "Can I fix you a refill?"
Even just the low gravel of his voice had Olivia's skin flush with goosebumps beneath her sleeves. He sounded good … he looked good. She had been the one adamant that he come home, but -
"I mean, that's not even what you drink, is it? How about wine?" El chuckled, going around the bar to grab a bottle.
In the eight months he had been back in her life, there had been so much, yet still so little.
He placed two wine stem glasses on the island and then twisted a corkscrew into a bottle of red. Olivia took a shaky breath and reminded herself what she had recently told Tori after the David Graham case: It's going to be uncomfortable. It's going to feel different. Be patient with yourself.
Elliot passed her glass as he raised his. She mirrored the motion, raising an eyebrow as to what they were toasting.
"To … being home for the holidays," he offered quietly.
Their eyes never left each other as they drank to his words, Liv's thoughts racing along all the things they still needed to talk about.
"El - "
Her attempt was cut short by Noah crashing into her side. "Hi Mom!" he grinned up from her hip.
"That sounds like a hot-chocolate-fueled 'hi mom,' to me," she laughed, brushing fingers through his messy curls.
He looked shyly across the island at Elliot, arms still looped around Olivia's waist. "Hi. I'm Noah."
The smile that he returned to the boy rose emotion in Liv's throat, her heart fluttering. "Hey Noah - my name's Elliot. Merry Christmas."
In another beat, he was gone again, and Elliot moved around the counter into the living room, joining the murmur of smalltalk with a kiss to Bernie's cheek. Liv kept him always in the corner of her eye as he made polite rounds with all his guests, while she carefully shifted to the opposite side of the room. After all their years apart, sometimes she most wanted to watch him. Hear him. Absorb that he was really there again.
Outside the window, snow continued to swirl and cover the terrace - and that was where Elliot found her a short while later. She had escaped into the enveloping silence of the cold when nobody was paying attention.
The terrace doors clicked as they opened, then shut, behind Elliot. Liv couldn't help but smile when she felt him drape his jacket over her shoulders. Her gaze was fixed on the snow, and the sweet rustic decorations that complimented the lights.
"You okay?" he asked, "I know the family can be a bit much, all in one place like that."
Liv glanced over her shoulder into the apartment, then at Elliot. "I think it's wonderful. I wish I'd had more Christmases like this. Cozy. Busy."
You can have every one I have left, he thought, wanting beyond anything to offer her the world. But they were two people caught in the unraveling of a dual destiny. For some, a love story begins at 18, traveling outward over decades. They were standing at the edge of 55, not knowing how much life had left to hold for them.
But he loved her like he was eighteen all over again.
El supposed that made him a piss-poor widow, but he would make the argument that some of his grieving over his first marriage had taken place when Kathy was still alive.
He looked up at the steadily falling snow, clearing his throat softly. "Weather's supposed to continue to be messy. You and Noah can stay … if you want. Here. Most of the kids are."
Liv looked at him, dark eyes twinkling through the swirl of flakes that caught in her equally dark braid. "Oh? And where will you be putting them all?" she teased.
Chuckling, he rubbed a cold hand against his beardless chin. "Eh - they're siblings. A couple will pile in with Eli … the couch, the floor. You can stay in my bed, though."
There was a beat after he said it. Elliot thanked God that the cold covered the blush that crept up his cheeks as Olivia grinned at him. "Is that so?"
"I meant," he took a breath, "you and Noah can take my bed to yourselves, and I'll sleep elsewhere."
She rubbed her hands together, blew warmly into them. "Relax, Elliot; I was kidding. You don't scare me."
He took one of her hands into his larger, warmer ones. "I'm glad to hear that," he replied softly. Fifty-five but eighteen inside, and oh, how he wanted her.
As he leaned close, Liv pressed her other hand to his chest. He stopped. "El … there's still so much to talk about," she murmured.
He nodded but didn't move. "I know. But you know what they say about a journey of a thousand miles … "
Their chilly noses nuzzled against one another, setting sparks off in their bellies. "Mm - that some of them take 23 years?" she smirked.
"Something about a first step, I think," he whispered, snuffing her sarcasm by meeting her lips at last.
Inside the apartment, Noah was getting to his feet after pulling on his boots, hands poised to push open the doors to the terrace.
"And where are you going, Noah Porter-Benson?" Bernie asked him as her hand fell heavily on his little shoulder.
He looked up into her face. "My mom's out there … I'm hungry!"
Bernie looked out onto the terrace, where just beyond the reach of Noah's view, she could see her son kissing Olivia warmly. Smiling broadly, she looked down again.
"Would you believe, Noah Porter-Benson, that I can cook?" She turned him from the window, guiding him in the direction of the kitchen. " How about eggs - you like eggs?"
Noah climbed up onto a stool at the bar, watching Bernie search the fridge. He narrowed his gaze at her, a little suspiciously. "I already have a Grandma, you know," he told her firmly.
"Oh yeah? That's great," she shrugged kindly as she pulled out a frying pan. "You can tell me all about her while I make your eggs."
With a breath, Noah relaxed a little. "Her name is Sheila."
Behind him, Elliot and his mom came stamping inside from the snow, both smiling.
Maybe family is not so bad, he thought.
END