I Think Of You Every Day (In Every Way)

by Special Fanfic Unit

Prompt #12: Liv receives Valentine's gifts from Elliot at the office [Special Valentine's Unit]

Prompt #12: Liv receives Valentine's gifts from Elliot at the office

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I Think Of You Every Day (In Every Way)

•••

Sunday, January 2nd

'Here's to 2021 being over,' Fin grumbles, raising his beer and tilting it towards the whole group. Elliot joins in the toast, more relieved than most to see the end of a year that brought him pain, fear, and a deep-seated need for revenge.

And also brought him back to Liv, his brain supplies helpfully, but he pushes that thought away as he takes a long draught of his own beer.

'And to a better 2022!' Ayanna adds, her arm slung around the shoulders of Denise, a bright smile on her face bringing levity to the conversation, pushing people's thoughts away from the difficulties of the previous few months. Everyone murmurs their agreement, joining the second toast.

The two teams had gathered together for a slightly late New Year celebration, wanting to take a moment to breathe and connect without the threat of some tragedy or case hanging over their heads. It's a brief outing, Olivia and Amanda especially not wanting to stay away from their children for too long after the events over Christmas, but Elliot is relieved that they managed anyway. It's a grounding moment for him, to see his colleagues again, to see Olivia again, to get out of his head and away from thoughts of destroying Wheatley or seeking revenge.

He's also glad for Olivia's sake—after the fatal shooting at Christmas, he had gone to see her, spend time with her, and despite her not wanting to talk much, he could tell it was weighing heavily on her mind. He can only hope that his quiet support and company had helped her in some way, considering it was the least he could do, but also the most she was allowing anyone to do to help her, in true Olivia style. She's sitting opposite him tonight, and gazing at her face, she seems brighter now a few days have passed, days that she has spent having time off with her son. It's sure to have helped, but he knows better than most how much the strain of taking a life can linger.

Noticing his stare, she curls her lips into a small smile, her eyebrow raising in a silent 'what?' as they keep eye contact for a moment. He shrugs in response, their nonverbal communication going unnoticed as the conversation around them continues to flow.

'At least all the major holidays are over now for a while,' Fin is saying, ticking them off his fingers. 'Halloween—done. Thanksgiving—done. Christmas—done. New Years—done.'

'I didn't imagine you as a 'Scrooge' personality,' Denise interrupts, and Elliot's attention slides away from Olivia's face and back towards the group as all the listening law enforcement employees snort in response to her statement.

'It's not that I hate celebrations,' Fin explains with a deep sigh. 'It's that the holidays bring out the worst in people, I swear. Caseloads are always craziest on or just after major dates.'

Elliot joins in the nodding.

'We're not quite done,' Rollins interjects. 'There's Valentine's Day coming up soon enough.'

She pauses, realizing what she has just said, and a light pink flush spreads across her cheeks. The ADA that Elliot recalls is called Carisi has also got a slight blush, and he watches as the two carefully lean away from each other, studiously ensuring no eye contact. Subtly is clearly not in their nature, and he has to dampen a slight chuckle as he registers what exactly is going on between the two of them.

Olivia also has a vaguely amused expression on her face, and she shakes her head at her colleagues, although she says nothing.

'Valentine's Day is just a capitalist construct made to encourage people to spend their money,' Jet mutters from the background, and it's the first time she's actually contributed fully to the conversation, shifting the focus away from Rollins and Carisi as everyone looks at her in surprise.

'Unfortunately, Phoebe doesn't see it that way,' Fin replies, downing the remainder of his beer in one long swig. 'I've been told in no uncertain terms that I have to organize something this year for us both.'

'You're damn right you do,' Phoebe says with a chuckle, elbowing him in the side.

'I think it's a lovely day to express appreciation and love to our partners,' Ayanna argues, pausing to place a kiss on Denise's temple. 'You don't have to spend lots of money to convey that sentiment.'

Elliot watches as Olivia hesitates for a moment, tapping a finger against her glass of water briefly before she apparently decides to share her own opinion.

'I'm actually inclined to agree with your Detective,' she says, tilting her head slightly towards Jet. 'Valentine's Day brings some of the worst cases for SVU. The only good thing about that holiday is the cheap chocolate on February 15th.'

Her statement makes everyone around the table laugh, but Elliot can see that while her smile is gentle, her eyes are hard, and he knows she believes exactly in what she is saying. He bides his time until the topic has shifted again, Denise and Carisi getting drawn into some legal argument with Fin and Ayanna spurring them on, and then leans across the table slightly, capturing Olivia's attention.

'It's too bad you view it that way,' he says, keeping his voice as low as possible to avoid being overheard.

'Hmm?' she responds, clearly confused as to what he is alluding. 'What's too bad?'

'Valentine's Day,' he tells her, seriously. 'Ayanna's right…It doesn't have to be some depressing capitalist holiday if you're able to show appreciation to those you love.'

Olivia bites her lip, her thumb swiping up and down on her glass as she smooths away the condensation. He waits patiently for her to consider what she wants to say.

'It's not as if I've experienced any great Valentines,' she tells him softly. 'So I wouldn't know. Anyway, despite assumptions, we both know you're the romantic one out of the two of us.'

He isn't sure if that is a judgment, a joke, or a challenge, but he raises both his eyebrows and his bottle at that, a gesture of agreement with that statement.

'Don't tell anyone else here,' he says lightheartedly. 'I wouldn't want my reputation as a badass to be ruined.'

'I think you're the only one who thinks you have that reputation in the first place,' she jokes, and he fake-frowns at her in an exaggerated manner. Just like that, they both sense the quiet moment between them is over, and they turn simultaneously back to the rest of the group, where Carisi is turning slightly purple in the face over some legal joke that Fin has dropped.

The conversation may have moved on, but Elliot can't shake the thought of Olivia and Valentine's Day, and a plan begins to form in his mind.

•••

Tuesday, February 1st: Coffee

Tuesday morning starts early and dramatically, with a new case falling to SVU before the sun even begins to rise. A young woman, early twenties, raped and murdered by way of her throat being cut.

The perpetrator wasn't content to stop there however; her heart had been meticulously carved out of her chest, and laid on the pillow next to her, ensconced in a wreath of daisies. It's the type of case that Olivia knows will cause sensational headlines if the news catches wind of it, and she can only hope they get a couple of days of peace and quiet before journalists come sniffing around.

Fine, if she's dreaming then she'd like the case to be solved within a couple of days, but she isn't about to hold her breath.

It's barely after 7am, and she's already settling down at her desk after visiting the crime scene in person, rubbing her temples to dispel the tension headache that has plagued her since the instant her phone rang and woke her up in the early hours of the morning.

There's a knock at her office door, which she ignores for a moment as she slumps ungracefully into her chair, and then sighs heavily, trying to switch back into Captain mode for whatever questions will soon be coming her way.

'Come in!' she calls, sliding on her glasses so she can peer at her computer screen, momentarily getting distracted by an ominous email from sender ' '. Her finger hesitates on the mouse for a moment, before she decides she can ignore it for a few more minutes.

'Thought you might need some fuel to get you through the day,' a voice interrupts her unkind thoughts over the current Chief. She looks up in surprise, to find Elliot standing casually in the doorway, two coffees balanced in a holder in one hand, the other still pressed against the door he's just swung open.

'El?' she says, peering over the top of her glasses for a moment. 'What are you doing here?'

As nice as it is to see his face, she can't help but begin to run through some worst-case scenarios in her mind, starting with work and Wheatley and quickly spiraling into problems with Eli or Bernie within a split second.

'Coffee,' Elliot responds, raising the cups up and shuffling towards her desk. 'Heard you had an early morning and was in the neighborhood…Figured you might appreciate some good quality coffee rather than the sludge they insist on serving here. Cute glasses by the way.'

She glares at him over that last remark, pushing the aforementioned objects up into her hair as her hand goes to seize a cup of wonderful caffeine.

'In the neighborhood, were you?' she mutters over the rim, allowing her eyebrows to show just how little she believes his nonchalant behavior as she begins to drain the coffee unceremoniously.

Elliot drops into the chair in front of her desk, taking the time to have a sip of his own coffee as he watches her carefully, not even trying to defend the reason as to why he's all the way at the 1-6 rather than his own station.

By the time she's drunk almost half the entire large cup, she's feeling vaguely more human, and able to savor the flavor of the rest. It's admittedly far, far better than any coffee that can be found in the precinct, or indeed any coffee shop nearby, but Elliot is already too much of a coffee snob, so she doesn't want to overly encourage him.

'Thanks,' she simply adds after a moment, making him smile back at her.

'I guess supporting your caffeine habit wasn't the only reason I'm here,' he concedes, rubbing one hand nervously on the back of his neck. Olivia relaxes into her chair and waits.

'I wanted to ask if you'd be willing to come with me to the theater in a couple of weeks' time,' he says in a hurry as if she wouldn't register quite how bizarre the request was if he only said the words quickly enough.

She blinks at him for a moment.

'The…theater?' she echoes. They've certainly been working on their friendship recently, but she had imagined them progressing towards a drink after work…perhaps lunch or dinner in a family group again, after the December Stabler-Benson gathering. Going out to the theater had never even entered her mind, and in all the years she has known Elliot, she isn't even sure she can name a time he went to watch something performed on stage that wasn't because his own children were part of the cast. Maybe Rome and the fancy culture of Italy really had changed some of his tastes.

'The kids bought me tickets to some comedy play as a Christmas present,' he tries to explain. 'Two tickets for the Monday two weeks from now. I really don't want to go alone.'

'I thought the theaters were mainly closed on Monday,' she says, for some reason choosing to focus on that detail rather than asking why he thought she was the best person to invite along with him. Or maybe she did know, and simply wanted to avoid delving into the answer right at this moment.

'It's off-Broadway,' he says, looking cheerier now that she hasn't outright said no. 'They said it was funny, that it would be something to make me laugh and forget life's stresses for a while. I think we both deserve that, even if only for a couple of hours?'

There's a case calling to her, with a carved-out heart and tragic endings, plus an inbox she can see out of the corner of her eye is filling with yet more emails from McGrath, and she can sense the day beginning to press at her, demanding attention. But the coffee is still warm in her hand, and when she glances back across at Elliot, she finds herself captured in his bright blue eyes.

'Sure,' she hears herself say. 'Why not?'

His smile is bright and contagious, and she feels herself grinning stupidly back at him for a moment before there's another knock at the door, and their morning peace is shattered completely.

'Capt-oh sorry,' Amanda says, poking her head through the door and catching sight of Elliot. Olivia waves her hand, and Elliot takes that as his cue to leave.

'See you later, Captain,' he announces and then nods briefly at Amanda as he departs. Both women watch him go.

'What was he doing here?' Amanda asks, her tone casual but her gaze sweeping the room in an analytical fashion.

'Brought me some coffee,' Olivia says, trying to sound just as casual, but she isn't sure how successful she is, since Amanda merely pushes the door shut behind her with a foot, folding her arms.

'You seem in a pretty good mood just for coffee,' she remarks.

Olivia has performed enough interrogations that she won't crack easily under pressure herself. On the other hand, the more evasive she is, the more of a 'big deal' she knows Amanda will see the news if she does eventually find out, and saying 'it's none of your business' will not make her give up easily. For all she's attempting (and failing) to hide her own relationship, Amanda can be pretty stubborn about finding details from others.

Not that there's any relationship details to tell her, with El. But eventually, Fin will find out about the theater invitation, because Fin knows everything about everyone, and he delights in gossiping. So, when Fin knows, Amanda will know, and then there will be even more questions.

'He asked if I wanted to go to the theater with him,' she says, turning back to her computer screen and clicking on the first email from McGrath, desperate enough to move on that even his messages are a useful distraction.

'That's nice of him,' Amanda says, her voice deceptively relaxed. 'A date?'

'Not a date,' Olivia is quick to say. It's not as if Elliot said it was a date, and besides…they're being friends. For now. 'His children bought him two tickets, and he wanted some company.'

'How sweet,' Amanda replies, her fingers tapping on the folder in her hand. 'Soon?'

It's a subtle interrogation, but an interrogation nonetheless. Still, Olivia figures she can use this to her advantage.

'Monday two weeks from now,' she throws out. 'Actually…do you think Noah could come over to yours?'

'Monday…two weeks?' Amanda asks, brow furrowing. 'But that's the 14th of February.'

'Yeah, so?… Oh,' Olivia figures it out slowly. Valentine's Day. She had genuinely not realized, and now she feels bad about putting Amanda on the spot. Clearly, the other woman will have plans with a certain somebody that neither of them shall mention by name. 'Then no problem, don't worry about it.'

'No no,' her Detective waves her hand vaguely in the air. 'We were planning to stay home for a quiet evening anyway.'

Olivia smiles at her, grateful for the family she's built up around her thanks to SVU.

'So, Stabler's inviting you out on Valentine's Day, huh?' Amanda adds with a smirk. 'Are you sure it's not a date?'

So, maybe her gratefulness has limits.

'Just a coincidence,' she says, her eyes narrowing. Truly, it must be a simple coincidence. 'And…"we" were planning to stay home?'

Amanda realizes her slip of the tongue instantly and snaps her mouth shut.

'We identified the victim,' she says smoothly, handing the file across Olivia's desk in an obvious change of topic, and they both dive straight back into the case.

Two hours later, when Olivia is drowning in paperwork, case leads, and yet more emails from McGrath, there is a quiet vibration from her phone. When she glances at the screen, she spies a text from Elliot.

'The play starts fairly early,' his message says. 'Too early to eat beforehand. Want to grab something with me afterward? I know a place to book.'

Her fingers hesitate for a moment, and then she's typing out a reply quickly.

'Sure,' she sends. 'Why not.'

•••

Wednesday, February 2nd: Orange roses

As much as he'd like to see Olivia every day—and indeed, hopes to try to do just that in the future—Elliot is caught working his own case on Wednesday morning, sitting through endless strategy meetings until his mind begins to wander.

On the other hand, he isn't quite sure how Liv is going to react to what he's had sent to her office—it's not exactly a normal gesture between the two of them, and so in some ways, it might be best he isn't there the moment they arrive.

Still, he can't help but check his phone multiple times during the meeting, jumping slightly every time it lights up with a new message, just in case it's her response. Eventually, Ayanna clears her throat purposefully, sending him a glare that indicates just how obvious he's being, and he reluctantly turns the phone screen-side down on the table so he can attempt to focus on the rest of the strategic planning.

Liv being Liv, he still hasn't received a message by the time they're able to escape the meeting room, and he sits rather despondently at his computer for a while, attempting to focus on work.

Finally, his screen lights up and he can see the sender is at last Olivia.

'What the fuck?' her message reads, along with an attachment. He clicks it open, and there's a picture of a large bouquet of orange roses.

'You seem creepy when you look like that,' Jet comments, breaking his concentration for a moment. Her face peers around her computer screen, and she shakes her head a bit at whatever she sees in his expression.

'When I look like what?' he asks, half offended by being called creepy, and half distracted by trying to figure out how to respond to Liv.

'Like you're about to break into giggles and twirl your non-existent hair around your finger while you text your crush,' Jet informs him and then rolls back behind her screen again.

He pauses a moment, tempted to argue with her description of his reaction, and then shrugs it aside, deciding instead to grab his phone and head towards an empty room for a moment of privacy.

'Stabler, why did you have a bouquet of flowers delivered to the precinct?' Olivia's voice demands down the phone, without even attempting a greeting.

'Hello to you too, Liv,' he says with a slight chuckle, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes, picturing her pacing up and down in her office.

'El…' she sighs, and he takes the moment to attempt an explanation.

'Did you know,' he says, using his best professor-style voice, 'that yellow roses symbolize friendship and happiness?'

There's a snort at the other end of the line.

'A fascinating point, Elliot, except that these roses are fiery orange in color,' she points out, refusing to be fooled by his misdirection.

'Huh,' he lightens his tone as if that's a surprise to him. He's hesitant to tell her what the florist had actually told him—that orange roses were for passion and fascination, but at the same time, he hadn't thought the whole situation out very well before he found himself buying and arranging a delivery of flowers to Olivia anyway.

'Well, I hope they bring a nice burst of color to your office,' he adds, hoping that she'll let it go. And to his surprise, she actually does.

'It's nice to have something pretty in here, yes,' she admits quietly, and he can feel the tension behind those words, the fatigue coursing through her body.

'Liv…' he starts, but he's not actually sure what he's trying to say, what could make her feel better.

'And hey,' she continues, ignoring him. Her tone takes on one of amusement. 'It's better than that damn bouquet White sent me.'

Richard White…A case from decades ago now, practically another lifetime. Back when their partnership was in its early stages, and yet they still protected each other fiercely even then.

'I haven't thought about that asshole in years,' he reminisces for a second. She laughs, deep and genuine.

'Me neither,' she says. 'So much for him always being in my head. Still, it's nice that at least these roses don't have to be connected with a manhunt for a murderer.'

He pushes off the wall, wandering around the room to burn off the energy this conversation has given him. Hell, maybe Jet is right…maybe he really would be giggling at Olivia if he wasn't some aging and cynical old cop.

'Although, I would have rather done without all the interested stares from my team,' she points out. 'Between Fin and Amanda, I'm going to be bombarded with questions. And you still haven't told me what orange roses mean.'

He stumbles in his pacing, unprepared for her to circle back around to this topic.

'Uhh…' he says eloquently.

'Huh,' Olivia's voice changes suddenly down the end of the line, switching from teasing to serious.

'Huh?' he echoes back, adding an inflection of questioning.

'Our latest case…Perp carved her heart out and left it on the pillow next to her, in a wreath of white daisies. We've been so busy with other evidence and leads, I hadn't thought about the symbolism of the flowers themselves.'

Elliot slides out of the room before she's even taken a breath from explaining, cornering Jet as she's trying to wander away from her desk.

'Hey Jet, can you just search the meaning of white daisies?' he asks, and Olivia falls silent and expectant at the other end of the phone.

Jet sighs, throwing him a long-suffering look, but sits back down and quickly types something out on her computer.

'I assume you mean the symbolism of daisy flowers?' she asks, scrolling rapidly through the results. Elliot nods.

'Innocence…purity…new beginnings,' she reads off, and Elliot parrots it back to Olivia. He can picture her writing one of her habitual notes as he relays the information.

'Thank Detective Slootmaekers for me,' Olivia tells him. 'And thank you also…for the flowers.'

'Speak to you soon, Captain,' he tells her, and his voice is far too soft for standing in the middle of a police precinct.

•••

Thursday, February 3rd: Breakfast

Olivia is frustrated. Their case is stalling, they're still having to wait on forensics, and they have no clear suspect leads even if the lab indicates there is indeed DNA on Nina Stallings' body. It looks to be a long day ahead, and she hasn't even managed to finish her first cup of coffee this morning, too busy being interrupted by phone calls, emails, and people entering her office to ask her questions.

So when yet another knock on the door interrupts her short-lived peace, she can't help but emit a low growl of frustration as she bends over her desk, rummaging through the endless stacks of files and papers to find the one she needs before having more time-wasting conversations.

'Bad morning?' Elliot wanders into the room, shutting the door firmly behind him to block out the noise from the rest of the station.

'Just tired, and the day has barely begun,' she admits, resting both hands on the desk for a moment and dropping her head down, hair slipping forwards until it hides the weary expression on her face. She feels a hand come to rest on her shoulder, fingers squeezing gently against tight muscles, and can't help but relax into his hold slightly.

'What are you doing here, El?' she asks, resting for one more beat before pushing herself upright again, his hand, unfortunately, sliding away from her arm in response.

He waggles a brown paper bag in front of her face.

'I bring breakfast bagels,' he announces. 'Breakfast and a ten-minute break from whatever's making you look like that before 9am in the morning.'

'Coffee, flowers, and now breakfast? What are you up to, Stabler?' she stares at him, but he knows all of her interrogation techniques, and merely shrugs in response.

'I had a craving for these bagels,' he says simply. 'We used to have them all the time, and I guess…I just want to see if they're as good as I remember.'

Olivia doesn't want to admit it, but she recognized the cafe logo on the bag straight away, and now she's also wanting to revisit nostalgic food of years long since passed. She never has breakfast at that sort of place nowadays, either choosing to eat at home with Noah when there's time or choking down terrible coffee as her only source of sustenance if it's an early start in the precinct. Occasionally, she and Fin manage to go out and grab something to eat, but she's kept their 'usual' spots separate from those she placed aside in her mind as belonging to her and Elliot. Some things were just too painful to go back and revisit.

'Fine,' she accepts, pulling the bag out of his hand and dropping down in her chair. He takes a moment to drag the other chair around to her side of the desk, ignoring her raised eyebrows, and settles beside her, reaching out to take his own. Silence falls as they both bite into their respective bagels, and then make noises of appreciation simultaneously.

'Guess it is as good as I remember,' Elliot says, voice slightly muffled by his mouthful of bagel. Olivia just nods, feeling calm for the first time since she arrived at work for the day.

'I've been meaning to ask,' she says once she's cleared her own mouth of bagel, leaning back slightly to release the tension in her body. 'How is…Rita doing? The girl you helped? Did you hear how she and her son are getting on?'

Elliot's face lights up for a moment.

'They sent me a message to say they're safe in London and starting over. They look so happy together.'

Olivia can't help but smile at his enthusiasm, the passion Elliot has always felt for helping victims shining through.

'Well then, good work, Officer Monte Cristo,' she teases gently and watches as his cheeks turn slightly pink.

'It's a good book,' he defends himself, clearly regretting telling her the nickname Rita had given him.

'Oh, I don't disagree,' she laughs. 'My mother loved that book too.'

'Yeah?' he asks, his tone suddenly more serious. She doesn't share many details about her mother even all these years later, still feeling as if she's picking at a barely-healing scab against her heart if she reflects on their relationship for too long.

'Yeah, she loved it, and so many of the classics,' she offers up. 'It was one thing we used to do often together…Read aloud from some of her favorite books. Of course, Dickens was a preferred author of hers. Endless hours having to get through Great Expectations—more than once!'

Eliot is looking at her with a soft expression, and now it's her turn to feel slightly embarrassed at his attention.

'What about little Olivia?' he asks, finally shifting his eyes away as he takes another bite of bagel.

'I was into the gothic classics,' she tells him. 'There was nothing better than some intrigue, doomed romance, and tragedy for my teen self.'

He stares at her expectantly, still chewing quietly, so she casts her mind back, trying to bring titles to mind.

'The Picture of Dorian Gray,' she recalls. 'The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde…and Frankenstein. I reread those a lot during my high school years.'

She doesn't add why she was obsessed with those books. How as a teenager, newly knowledgeable about how her own existence occurred, she fell into their dark stories of inner demons and ugliness, torturous creations and creators, searching for answers at the same time as fearing to see herself reflected from their pages.

'I got rid of most of my books between apartment moves,' she tries to move the conversation on slightly. 'Shame really, I should reread them some time.'

Elliot seems to have recognized at least in part that these books mean something else, because he reaches towards her, fingers tightening against her wrist in a move that grounds her.

'In the end, good stories are just that…stories,' he reminds her, and she opens her mouth to say something, anything, when her next morning interruption enters her office.

'Captain, sorry for disturbing your breakfast date,' Velasco says, carrying several files and with a serious look on his face.

Her first instinct is to deny anything to do with the word 'date', but her brain quickly realizes Velasco doesn't mean anything by it—he doesn't know Elliot, nor does he seem to care that he's wandered in to find his boss having breakfast with a man. She holds out her hand instead, indicating towards the files.

'What do we have?' she asks briskly, and Velasco jumps straight into an explanation about how the ME believes there could be two perpetrators for Nina's rape and murder, based on DNA evidence: a man and a woman.

'See you later, Liv,' Elliot's fingers brush against her shoulder, and then he is gone.

•••

Friday, February 4th: Books

He's nervous today, entering the station quietly in the hopes that there won't be too many people around to see him before he gets to her office. No such luck however; Fin and Amanda spot him straight away, and it seems as if the entire precinct is already bustling with activity.

'Back again so soon, Stabler?' Fin calls out, arms crossed and watching him make a beeline towards the Captain's office.

'Couldn't stay away from your beautiful face,' Elliot throws over his shoulder, as he maneuvers through the last few desks and finally gets to Olivia's door.

'El, hey,' a surprised voice halts his knock on the wood, as Olivia herself comes up behind him.

'School run,' she explains, and he barely moves back before she's sliding into the space in front of the door to unlock it. He can feel the heat from her body as she twists the handle, and then she's stepping inside. He follows her without a thought.

'More breakfast?' she asks, eyes roving over his body in search of answers as she sets her bags down on her desk.

'Not today,' he confesses, shifting slightly on his feet. The nerves are back, and it's because he isn't quite sure how well she'll receive what he wants to give her today. 'I can't stay long.'

She stops trying to unpack things and rearrange the paperwork on her desk for some actual clear surface area, instead coming back around to stand directly in front of him, as if she can sense his slight unease.

'Then what, El?' she asks quietly, and they both watch as one of her hands comes up as if to rest against his chest, until she realizes what she's doing, leaving it hovering in the air for a moment before she's dropping it again. He takes a deep breath, reaching out to take her hand in his for a moment, turning her palm upwards in preparation.

'I'm not sure what memories these bring up,' he tells her, watching as her face clouds over in confusion, but she waits patiently for him to finish. 'I just thought…it was important for you to have them anyway. As I said, they're good stories, as long as we can remember they're just fiction. And one day, maybe you'll want to read them to Noah.'

With that explanation, he reaches into the bag he's been carrying, pulling out a stack of books, which he places one by one into her outstretched hand. Great Expectations. Frankenstein. The Picture of Dorian Gray. The Count of Monte Cristo. Olivia's eyes slide slowly from his face down to the books, and she looks at them silently for a moment.

'I don't…' She starts and then stops again.

'I'm sorry if I crossed a line,' he feels the need to blurt out, one hand coming to rub against the back of neck briefly. 'Just thought it would be nice if you could have some of your books again.'

'It was very thoughtful of you,' she interrupts. 'I love them. I'm sure my mother would have loved me having them back too.'

She clutches the books to her chest, and despite the fact that she is now a striking woman in her fifties, he can still see the bright and idealistic young woman he once met marching into the precinct all those years ago, a young woman who was hurt by the world but determined to make a difference.

'I should…go,' he says, thumb jerking awkwardly towards the door. He needs to leave before he does something stupid like kiss her directly here, in her office.

He spins towards the exit, and his hand is already on the door before Olivia finds her voice again.

'Hey El?' she calls, and he halts immediately, looking back over his shoulder. 'You free tomorrow at all?'

'I…Yeah, yeah I am,' he says, trying not to sound too eager at the fact that she may be reaching out on her own this time.

'Noah and I always go to the local park on a Saturday. Walk around a bit, get some fresh air. You want to join us? 4pm?

'I would love to,' he tells her sincerely. '4pm. Your place?'

She nods in agreement.

'I'll be there.'

They smile at each other for a lingering moment, and then he eventually finds the energy to break free, sending her a final tip of his chin before he leaves. He's already horribly late for work, and Ayanna won't be pleased.

But three steps out of her office, he thinks about something else and turns back. Olivia is already shuffling through paperwork, glasses perched on the end of her nose, but she looks up as he pokes his head into the room.

'See you tomorrow, Liv,' he tells her deliberately, and she laughs.

'Yes, El, see you tomorrow.'

•••

Saturday, February 5th: Day out at the park

'How's the dancing going?' Elliot is asking Noah, and Olivia watches as her son twirls around on the pathway, before ending with a dramatic pose. Elliot laughs, making a valiant attempt at clapping his hands, despite holding two cups of hot chocolate.

Elliot's question is the right conversation starter, launching Noah into telling him all about moving up a grade in ballet, and how there's a big dance recital in a few months, which he will start rehearsing for in an extra class starting next week. He's so enthusiastic about sharing all his news with Elliot, that his arms flail wildly as he talks, almost knocking one of the cups out of Elliot's hands by mistake.

It's a different reaction to the one she had from him that morning when she had first explained that Elliot would be joining them on their usual stroll through the park.

'Is Eli coming with him?' was Noah's first question, and when she had shaken her head, he had frowned slightly. 'So just Elliot? Why is he coming?'

Noah has always had a fairly welcoming personality, quick to be the one to include new children in the playgroups, forever wanting to meet up with his friends on the weekends. He's been raised within a community of found family, and for that, Olivia will forever be grateful. They may not have blood relatives around them, but they have a family in a way she never had, growing up, and that is the most important thing for her son.

She hopes Elliot can one day become a part of that family, and she had thought they'd made good progress during the Christmas gathering, and in the few times that El had visited afterward.

'I invited him,' she had said slowly, searching his face for clues. 'Did you not want him to come?'

'No no,' Noah had said, his eyes glancing away for a moment before he had taken a deep breath and turned to face her once more. 'Mom, Elliot is quite religious, right? Cos Adam was saying that some religion says liking boys is bad, but I don't know if that is true, and I wasn't sure if Elliot…well, what Elliot thinks. I know it isn't bad, but some people have a problem with it.'

Thankfully, this was one of the easiest questions Olivia had ever had to answer, and it had taken her barely any time at all to reassure Noah that Elliot would not only not have an issue with him being bisexual, but would be supportive.

'So theeen I told mom that Hudson had been bullying my non-binary friend, and then bullying me because I said I was bi. And even though I didn't want her to say anything, she told their mom about what Hudson was doing. And then Mrs. Parker brought Annie over to ours instead, so I could still see my friend without Hudson being there too, but I'm pretty sure mom yelled at Mrs. Parker again because she was definitely crying in the kitchen.'

'Noah!' Olivia interrupts hastily, her mind coming back to the present as she overhears her son's change of topic. 'That was a grown-up conversation—you and Annie weren't supposed to be listening in.'

Elliot is watching her in amusement, but when she squints her eyes at him, he looks back down at her son with a gentle smile instead.

'Your mom is right—she needed to speak to Mrs. Parker about what Hudson was doing, and make sure he doesn't do it again. It's not right that he's bullying others just because of who they love or how they choose to identify.'

Noah nods wisely.

'I knew you'd agree,' he says, and Olivia can't help but laugh at the pair in front of her, heart full of joy that Elliot is back in her life at last, and getting to know her son.

When they've made several circuits of the park, and the temperature has dropped enough to indicate home-time, they make short work of the ten-minute stroll back to her apartment building. The air is becoming colder and colder, and Olivia allows Noah to run on ahead to get back into the warmth of their home, her and Elliot both watching him through the door as he waves at the doorman and takes the lift upwards. They're standing in front of Elliot's car, and she could have just said a quick goodnight and followed her son, but something makes her linger.

'Thanks for inviting me today,' Elliot tells her, a white puff crystalizing his breath in the late afternoon air. She stuffs her hands in her pockets, trying to warm her fingers as she rocks forward on her toes slightly.

'You were the one spoiling Noah,' she says with a small smile. 'I'm pretty sure he'll be on a hot chocolate high all evening.'

Elliot blushes slightly, as they both reflect on how he bought not one, but two hot chocolates for Noah over the course of the walk.

'He's hard to say no to,' he admits. 'Must get that from his mom. But I really did appreciate being invited. Maybe we can do it again some time?'

'I'd like that,' she says, and it's a relief to be able to say that, to invite Elliot into their lives and not feel concerned about him disappearing again, or fear that whatever this is between the two of them will slip through her fingers.

They stare at each other for a moment, unwilling to let the moment end, before Elliot takes a deep breath and nods his chin towards his car.

'Guess I better get going…' he says ruefully, bringing one hand up to her forearm and squeezing slightly before he lets his fingers slide away, turning to go to the driver's seat of his car. He looks back at her before he climbs in. 'I'll see you later, Liv.'

She waves at him slightly, before something pops into her mind, and she calls out after him.

'Hey El, why do you keep saying that?' she asks, an idea in her mind but wanting to hear it from him. 'That you'll see me later?'

'Just wanting to reassure you,' he says. 'I'm not going to leave again, Liv. And I'll always be looking forward to being able to see you again. So, see you later?'

'See you later, El,' she tells him, and this time she lets him go, entering her building without any more delays. When she gets back to the apartment, Noah is already relaxing on the couch, and she ruffles his hair as she wanders over to the window for a moment. Staring down, she can still see Elliot's vehicle sitting there, waiting for something.

'Hey Noah, can you flick the light switch off and back on again?' she asks, and her son looks at her in confusion, but reaches over to do as she's asked.

Flick. Flick.

Down below, Elliot starts up his engine and slowly pulls away.

•••

Sunday, February 6th: Tickets for the ballet

It's Sunday, and he's slightly worried about crossing boundaries when he sends her a quick message to see if she's home. In all honesty, he had planned on giving her space today, especially considering how she'd mentioned at the park that this was a weekend for her and Noah to do different activities together; he doesn't want to encroach on more of their time after such a lovely walk the day before.

He also doesn't want Olivia to become even more suspicious than she already is, with him turning up at the precinct so often. He could already sense her questioning gaze last week, and there are still several days to go in his plan before he wants to admit anything out loud. The less obvious he is for the next few days, the better.

Yet his conversation with Noah about dancing had inspired him, and last night he couldn't refrain from browsing the web until he discovered exactly what he was hoping to find. He could have waited until Monday morning to hand over the surprise, but instead, he finds himself sitting in his car, a mere three blocks from her apartment building.

The sensible side of him keeps telling his conscience to drive away and talk to her the next day. But the part of him which started this whole endeavor in the first place, the part that arose when he looked into her eyes on that night in January, makes his hands fall away from the wheel. He bounces a knee slightly as he waits for her response.

'Yes, we're home,' her message says, lighting up his screen a few minutes later. 'Any reason you're asking?'

His thumb hovers over the keyboard for a moment as he contemplates how to reply.

'Can I come by to give Noah and you something?' he types out quickly. 'Won't stay long.'

His text switches to 'read' immediately, her messenger clearly remaining open while she was waiting for his explanation. He wonders if she'll need to think about his request, but instead she answers straight away.

'Sure, we'll be home all afternoon.'

He slowly drives the car the short distance to her actual building, parking out the front and peering up to where he remembers her windows being. A soft glow can be seen through the glass.

'I'm already here,' he warns her, and then enters the building, the doorman halting him only long enough to hear his name before he's being waved through. He's gratified that the security is being more diligent than when he showed up before, while his brain registers the fact she must have called down ahead of his arrival already.

Indeed, when he arrives at her floor, she's already standing in the doorway, head tilted to one side as she watches him walk down the corridor.

'I was expecting you to take a little bit longer than a couple of minutes to get here from your place,' she says, her tone teasing but her expression questioning. He shrugs, trying to act casual.

'I was in the neighborhood,' he tells her, and it's not a lie but it's also not what she means. She stares at him for a moment, and then pulls back from the entrance, an unspoken invitation to enter.

He almost declines, not wanting to intrude on whatever plans she has with her son this afternoon, but the selfish part of him silences his voice before he gets a word out, and he simply smiles at her as he follows her in.

'So, what brought you to our neighborhood of all places?' she continues, leading him into the kitchen. She moves slowly, and slightly awkwardly, favoring her weight on one side, and he wonders if her ankle is still giving her issues all these months later.

Noah's sitting on the couch, unpacking some board game that they are clearly about to play together, but his face lights up when he sees Elliot.

'Hey, El!' He waves, and Elliot can't help but feel a sense of gratitude that he is here in her home right now, being welcomed not only by herself but by her son too.

'Hey, Noah,' he calls. 'Actually, I'm here to see you quickly too.'

The boy's face pops up from the back of the couch, peering over the cushions with interest, his chin cupped in his hands.

Under the intense focus of both Bensons, Elliot falters for a moment but then slips his fingers into his pocket to pull out the real reason he'd come all this way.

'Our discussion about your dancing made me remember seeing big posters advertising some New York City Ballet performances,' he begins, trying to find some reasoning beyond just wanting to make Liv's son smile. 'I thought it's only fair that you and your mom got to go see a show together, considering I'm taking her to the theater myself soon.'

He holds the tickets out to Noah, who takes them with a surprised yet happy expression on his face.

'Wow, thank you!' he says, sliding off the couch and coming around to throw his small arms around Elliot's waist briefly. The hug lasts only a second, and then he's turning towards Olivia and waving the tickets in the air. 'Look, Mom, isn't this cool!'

Olivia's face is full of love as she gazes down at her son, and Elliot feels his heart lurch slightly in response. He always knew she'd be a fantastic mother, and it's a bittersweet feeling to know that he was of course correct, but that he had also missed out on far too many years of Noah's life.

'That is indeed very cool,' Olivia is saying, her hands smoothing down Noah's curls for a moment before she kisses the top of his head. Her attention lingers as Noah runs from the room, exclaiming about having to text his friend Ava about the surprise, and then Elliot can sense her gaze on him.

'Thank you,' she says, simply. 'With covid closing productions for so long, there hasn't been an opportunity to take him to a big performance yet. He's going to love it.'

'Hey, Mom!' Noah's voice calls loudly from his room, interrupting them before Elliot can even respond. 'Can Elliot stay for lunch?'

'I wouldn't want to intrude,' Elliot says immediately but quietly, so that Noah can't hear, not wanting to put her on the spot. She chuckles slightly at his deer-in-the-headlights look.

'Well, considering you were just in the neighborhood…' she trails off for a moment, giving him a once-over. 'Better that we feed you before you begin the long and arduous journey back to your own home. If you want.'

He nods quickly, unwilling to miss out on the opportunity both Bensons are providing him

'Would love to,' he agrees, and watches as she spins around to head for the fridge. A sudden gasp has him reaching out however, and her hand latches onto his arm tightly for a second.

'You alright?' he questions urgently. She grips onto him for a moment longer, and then steps away from his support slowly.

'It's my ankle,' she admits. 'Too much walking around crime scenes last week, and then the park yesterday. Must have aggravated it slightly.'

'Well then, you better sit down,' he tells her, ignoring her look of disbelief and annoyance at his protective side rearing its head as he steers her towards a nearby chair.

He makes the entire lunch himself, despite her protests, and considers it an exceptionally good day when Noah announces that his grilled cheese sandwiches are almost as good as Olivia's.

•••

Monday, February 7th: Fluffy slippers

Usually, Olivia views February as one of the bleakest overall months of the year, perhaps surpassed only by January. The cold weather, the dark days, the endless cases that come rolling in…It's difficult sometimes to be as motivated and driven as she'd like to be, during these long days. This year however has seen a rather more pleasant start to February than most, thanks to Elliot's continued appearances in her life, living up fully to the challenge she set him of being her friend.

Despite all this, Monday seems to be in keeping with her usual expectations of the month: torrential rain pouring down, dark skies rumbling overhead, and a rushed schedule where she couldn't even take Noah to school, thanks to a meeting set by McGrath at 8:30am.

The meeting does nothing to help her mood, and by the time she makes her way slowly towards her own office, limping slightly still and cursing the doctor for ever putting the words 'retirement' into her mind, she can feel her temper teetering on the brink.

Her team can sense it as they watch her walk by, her tired nod instead of a cheerier 'hello' a good indication of her current state of mind.

'You've got a visitor in your office,' Fin calls out behind her back, and her hand pauses on the door handle for a second. If there was a single visitor she'd be happy to see right here, right now, it'd be Elliot, but the world is rarely that kind to her, so she's bracing herself for whatever comes her way as she enters the room. It must be serious if Fin's allowed them to be in her office unattended.

'Good morning,' Elliot says, leaning back in his usual chair, his smile gentle as he takes in her surprised expression.

'I know we're both getting old, but I hope you remember you don't actually work in this building anymore,' she says, and thankfully her voice is lighthearted enough that he hears it for what it is—a gentle joke. 'I'm pretty sure Sergeant Bell will think I've stolen you back to SVU.'

He waves his hand in the air dismissively.

'She won't miss me for a while yet,' he says, as stubborn as ever. 'Besides, I'm only here to deliver something to you before I have to get back.'

He holds out a carrier bag, and she looks at it for a moment before finally accepting.

'Elliot, what is all this?' she asks. It's been days now, of his unexpected visits and small gifts, and she's confused about what he's trying to achieve. 'You know you don't have to buy my friendship, right?'

'That's not what this is,' he reassures her, and his voice is calm and deliberate, meaning what he says. 'This is just because I saw you limping yesterday, and it made me realize you need these.'

She waits until she is seated, taking the weight off the very ankle he's mentioning before she opens the bag and peers within.

'El, what the fuck?' she asks, pulling out a pair of fuzzy blue slippers. He smirks in response.

'You're always wearing those heeled boots at work,' he tells her, and she'd be more annoyed at his judgment of her footwear if he didn't sound so damn earnest about it all. 'I figured you could keep these under your desk…switch out your boots for slippers while you work sometimes. Will help that ankle rest.'

'El, I'm Captain of this unit,' she says, gesturing towards the offending fuzzy items. 'I can't be wearing slippers in the office.'

'As a dedicated employee, we all accept our bosses have their strange habits,' Elliot says, and the bastard is still smiling at her, his lips curling upwards even more when she feels a corresponding smile reluctantly spread across her own face. 'Hey, remember Cragen and his Twizzler era?'

'I thank you for the thought,' she cuts him off. 'I can't promise to put them to good use, though.'

'I guess we'll see!' he announces, bouncing out of his chair and glancing at his watch. 'I think Bell really will notice I'm missing again if I stay longer. See you later, Liv.'

He knocks a fist once against her desk, looking at her in the eyes for a moment, before breezing back out of the office.

She sighs, waiting for the turmoil in her mind to settle in the wake of his departure. She really shouldn't be wearing slippers of any type on the job, especially not these warm, cozy-looking ones that should be enjoyed in the privacy of the personal home only. But she drops them to the floor under her desk, just in case…

Thirty minutes later, she caves and slowly toes off her boots, avoiding looking down as if not looking will make it less obvious, and she slides her feet into the slippers. Elliot was right—they are extremely comfortable. She can feel both herself and her ankle relaxing as time goes on and she gets lost in the work.

'Hey Liv, bad news,' Fin announces, a few hours later. 'New vic—female, early twenties, raped and murdered, with her heart cut out and placed on the pillow.'

He's reading out from some hastily scribbled notes, and she's quick to round her desk and pluck the papers from his hand.

'It really does sound like the same MO,' she muses, her heart sinking as she registers that the perp is starting to build a pattern. 'Rollins and Velasco on their way to check it out?'

'As we speak,' Fin assures her, but when she glances his way, she realizes he is staring down at the floor.

'What…Oh, fuck,' she swears, realizing just what he's seen.

'Nice footwear, Cap,' he tells her, an amused expression blooming across his face. 'Stabler needs a picture of this.'

Before she can even protest, her once-beloved-but-now-treacherous Sergeant snaps a picture with his phone, fingers dancing across his screen as he types out a message.

'Fin…' she says, throwing in as much of a menacing growl as she can make, with a hint of untold threats of retribution.

'Too late, already sent,' he says.

•••

Tuesday, February 8th: Tylenol (and chocolate)

If there is one gift or item of purchase that is practically synonymous with February, it's chocolate, chocolate, chocolate.

Elliot knows that Olivia isn't a massive lover of chocolate. It's not her go-to food when she's stressed, or even a comfort food when she's tired and wanting something soothing to nibble on. On occasion, however, he knows she enjoys good quality dark chocolate, and it's this he keeps in mind when he's selecting a box of assorted hand-made chocolates to take to the office that afternoon.

When he arrives at the 1-6, it seems as if it is more chaotic than usual, with uniformed officers milling about and Fin trying to direct certain people from in front of a board. Amanda is on the phone, with a deeply frustrated look upon her face as she talks to whoever is on the other end. When Elliot catches her eye, she nods her chin towards Olivia's office, which at first glance appears to be empty with the lack of light shining out, but when he wanders closer, he can see she is at her desk, lit only by a dim lamp.

'It wouldn't be sensible to tell them those details,' Olivia is saying, leaning forwards over her phone, fingers pressing hard against the bridge of her nose.

'The more the press tells the public, the better the chance of someone calling in with details,' a pompous voice sounds at the other end of the line, and he realizes she has her phone on speaker. She doesn't seem to care that he's invading her privacy however, just waving a hand tiredly in his direction as he slips into the room, closing the door gently behind him and settling into his usual chair.

'And the more fake confessions we'll be facing, without being able to weed out any true ones by means of additional details,' she growls, and Elliot is impressed by how little she seems to care in regards to her tone of voice towards her boss. But then again, she never did think much about authority figures if they were standing in her way.

'Chief, trust me on this,' she continues, rolling her eyes up to the ceiling as blustering nonsense filters through the phone. 'I'll speak to you later.'

At that, she neatly hangs up and then drops her head forwards with a groan.

'Tough day?' Elliot asks, already knowing the answer but wanting her to unload on him if necessary.

'Tough year, and we're only in the second month,' she grumbles, sitting back and placing her hands over her face. He can see her fingers rubbing small circles on her temples, trying to dispel whatever headache is plaguing her. 'We have a second body, same MO as the first, and this time the press found out. You can imagine the sort of headlines we'll be seeing tomorrow, considering how close to Valentine's Day we are, and the whole…heart carving.'

'Ouch,' Elliot winces at her situation and then holds up his finger. 'One moment.'

He goes back to the door, peering out until he captures Fin's attention and waves the other man over.

'Can you do without her for 30 minutes?' he asks, keeping his voice low. Fin gazes behind him for a moment, watching her, and nods.

'Of course,' he says. 'I got her back.'

'What are you two plotting at?' Olivia asks as soon as his attention returns to her. Her eyes are narrowed in suspicion, so he decides to go for the truth.

'Our plan of attack for getting rid of your tension headache,' he tells her, walking forwards until he can grasp both of her hands, and then gently leading her to the nearby couch. 'Sit there.'

'El, I can't just lie around in my office,' she says, popping straight back up when he tries to push her down by her shoulders. 'We're in the middle of a case.'

'Fin's got it all under control,' Elliot says, sitting down himself and tugging on one of her hands until she drops down next to him. 'Now, please sit here, just for a moment.'

He waits until she stills, her arms crossed but apparently willing to see what he'll do next, before he gets back up to go over to her desk. Strategically, he manages to knock her conference phone off its hook with his elbow, trying to do it subtly so at least they won't be disturbed by her Chief calling her up again in the next half hour. He rummages through her drawers until he finds a bottle of Tylenol he knows she'd have in there somewhere, pulling it out and grabbing a nearby bottle of water as well.

'Palm out,' he instructs, and she's either in enough pain or too much shock at being ordered around herself, that she reacts without thinking, holding out a hand so he can drop two pills in her hand.

'Drink,' he continues, unscrewing the lid of the bottle and passing it over to her. She downs the painkillers without protest, and he can see the moment she accepts his care, leaning back with a sigh and resting her head on the couch, eyes closed.

They sit there in silence for a long while, and he isn't entirely sure she hasn't drifted off to sleep, not wanting to say anything in case he disturbs her.

'I think they're finally starting to work,' she says eventually, her voice slightly gravelly from lack of use. Her face is beginning to relax, the tension lines around her eyes softening, until she blinks them open and turns her head to look in his direction. 'Thanks, El.'

'No thanks needed,' he says, tilting sideways subtly so that their shoulders press against each other slightly. 'You just need to take a pause every now and then.'

Their peaceful thirty minutes is almost at an end, but they sit side by side in the dim lighting until the last possible moment.

When he leaves, he balances the chocolates on the edge of her desk, a passing afterthought.

•••

Wednesday, February 9th: TENS machine

She hates to admit it, but Olivia is feeling practically spoiled by Elliot these last few days. She still isn't entirely sure why he's being so attentive, especially so many weeks after they first agreed to try and build their friendship up again. At first, she had been concerned that perhaps he thought he needed to buy back her affection in some way, or perform some grand gesture. But he truly seems to be enjoying doing…whatever it is that he's doing. Or maybe he has no plans, and these really are just random things that spring into his mind.

Yeah, as if she could believe that.

Still, despite enjoying his visits and his small gifts, she knows thanks to their ongoing texting that he's more than busy today, so as much as she'd like to see him, it won't be any time soon.

So it's with some surprise that an hour into her shift, and deep into a conversation with Amanda, Fin, and Velasco regarding their heart-carving perpetrators—the running theory being a romantic couple turning murderous for some reason they haven't yet identified—she is interrupted by a nervous-looking young uniformed officer.

'Detective Stabler asked me to bring you this,' he squeaks, thrusting a brown paper bag her way before scurrying away again.

'He better not be sending you sex toys in the middle of the precinct,' Fin says, staring pointedly at the bag. Olivia splutters for a second, too embarrassed and surprised to throw back a witty retort. Amanda meanwhile has no such issue, guffawing loudly for a second before she tries to hide her mouth with her hand. Velasco looks both confused and slightly afraid to ask.

'One more word from you, Sergeant, and you'll be on desk duty for the rest of the year,' she grumbles eventually, shooting him a dark glare. 'And we're only in February, so think carefully about that.'

Fin shrugs, knowing full well that it's an empty threat, even besides the fact that they are woefully understaffed still.

She manages to push the conversation back on track, making sure Fin has the worst of the tasks on the list before she prepares to head out with Amanda on their own lead-chasing mission. She almost forgets about the bag in general but grabs it at the last minute as she enters the office quickly to find her phone.

Taking a moment to look inside does nothing to alleviate her confusion. It's a blue box, with a picture of a bare shoulder and some white pad stuck to it.

Before she even considers the fact that he's busy and perhaps unable to speak, she's pressing her phone to her ear with one hand, while the other turns the box over, trying to read the details to gain some enlightenment.

'Hey Liv,' his voice is answering just seconds later. 'I'm guessing you got my delivery?'

'Don't take this the wrong way,' she says distractedly. 'But…what exactly is this?'

He laughs, and the sound is warm and rich in her ear.

'It's a TENS machine,' he says, which does nothing to clarify. 'Transcutaneous electrical nerve stimulation…I've personally found it useful for relieving tension in the neck and shoulders. It's a discreet wireless pad you stick to your skin and let it work its magic.'

'Huh,' is all she manages to get out, still reading the back of the box. It's a strange yet thoughtful gift, and she can't help but think of his visit yesterday. 'Did my misery yesterday inspire you?'

'Exactly,' he teases softly. 'Tension headaches are no fun, and I just know that Chief of yours is creating more than his fair share.'

'Thanks, El,' she says. It feels inadequate - he's been bringing her all these gifts, and she feels as if she should reciprocate, but she doesn't even know what they are doing here. Nor does he seem to care that she isn't showering him with presents in exchange.

'I hope it helps,' he says. 'See you soon, Liv.'

She leaves the device on her desk while she joins Amanda in tracking down a potential suspect in their case, bringing him back to the station for a long interrogation. Two hours later however, and they've hit a brick wall; he's not talking, his lawyer is on her way, and he may well have an air-tight alibi for the time of the second murder. It's all rather disheartening, and she can feel the tension flaring up across her body as they reconsider their plan of attack.

'I'll be back in a minute,' she tells Amanda eventually. Sneaking back into her office, she fumbles around with the pad for a moment, finally getting it settled in the right place on the middle of her shoulder blades area and switching it on with the remote.

The result is not instantaneous, but as the small pad whirrs into life, she can feel the pulses going through her muscles, slowly making her release the tension.

'Alright, I'll admit…this was a great idea,' she texts Elliot grudgingly. Barely thirty seconds later, he's sent her a picture in response—an awkwardly-angled selfie that shows his large smile and a thumbs up. In the background, he's accidentally captured Sergeant Bell side-eying his actions.

•••

Thursday, February 10th: Homemade lunch

'Sorry, I won't be able to make it to lunch today,' her message reads, and Elliot can't help but feel a sense of disappointment and anxiety flare up. From going ten years without seeing her, to missing a single day yesterday, he knows he is spiraling somewhat, getting too used to having Olivia in his life and yet still wanting more.

Another message comes through before he has a chance to respond.

'Another body was found,' she elaborates. 'Things are getting a bit crazy here. Have you seen the news?'

He hasn't, but at her prompting, he wanders over to their office television, turning it onto the news where a serious-faced journalist stares directly at him.

'This is the third time the Valentine Killer has struck, and it appears as if the NYPD is no closer to catching him as they were ten days ago. We spoke to some locals in the—'

Elliot mutes it again, huffing out a sound of discontentment over the journalist's poke at the NYPD and by extension, Olivia's team.

'Your girlfriend's case?' Malachi comments over his shoulder, and Elliot whirls around, frowning.

'No,' he says. 'Well, yes. What are you doing here?'

'Going to get a coffee…?' Malachi says, glancing at Elliot with a quizzical expression and then shuffling past him at a fast pace.

Elliot lets him go, rubbing his hands over his face, before turning back to his phone.

'Valentine Killer?' he sends back. 'Not exactly original.'

'And yet, exactly what I expected of them,' she replies a second later. 'I really am sorry about missing lunch. Next week?'

'Of course,' he replies because he will indeed want to have lunch with her next week. But his mind is already considering the fact that…surely she has to eat today anyway. He weighs the pros and cons of just turning up at the 1-6, the cons predominantly being that Olivia might be frustrated by his inability to stay away. Or perhaps she isn't even at the station anymore, off following a lead instead.

He doesn't want to distract her, but at the same time, he knows just how easy it is to lose track of everything except for the case when it becomes all-consuming. It might be hypocritical, but he wants her to take better care of herself.

Decision made, he grabs all the containers out of the fridge, and waves across to Jet.

'If Bell asks, I've gone for lunch,' he announces. She grunts in response, acknowledging but not particularly caring what he's up to.

'Say hello to Captain Benson for me,' she calls just as he's about to leave earshot, and he can hear the smirk in her voice.

The knowing looks from Olivia's own team makes him grumble slightly, frustrated that everyone is starting to notice just how often he is invading the 1-6. It's not as if he's ashamed of showing just how often he wants to see Olivia, but at the same time, he's well aware that if people start to talk to her about it, she may run in the opposite direction. The last thing he wants is for her to be spooked now.

'Have we checked…' The woman herself wanders out of the office, head down, glasses balanced on the end of her nose, and a stack of papers in her hands as she rifles through them before she notices him standing in front of her. 'El? I thought we had rearranged?'

'Lunch delivery,' he announces, holding up his bag. 'I figured even if we couldn't go out, you still need to eat something.'

'Damn Stabler, you brought enough for the rest of the class?' Fin calls, crossing his arms and staring expectantly at the bag.

'Sorry, this is straight from the Stabler kitchen, and there is definitely not enough for an entire precinct,' Elliot admits, gently spinning Olivia around with one hand to usher her back into her office. 'Next time, Fin…Or you can bring Phoebe over to ours for dinner.'

'I'll hold you to that!' Fin promises. 'I guess the rest of us will have to order some food in the meantime.'

'As much as I appreciate this, I really don't have time to stop,' Olivia is protesting before he can even close the door behind them.

'I won't distract you for long,' he reassures her. 'Just wanted to bring you some food, and I'll be on my way.'

He's still holding on to her shoulder, and to his surprise, she turns into him, making use of the privacy of her office and his tall body blocking the view to rest her forehead against his chest for a moment. He tightens his arm, pulling her into a proper hug as they stand there. Slowly, he can feel the tension drain out of her body.

'Thanks,' she says, clearing her throat as she pulls away. 'It's been a long few weeks.'

'Hey, I'm always here for hugs,' he tells her, lighthearted in tone, but serious in meaning. 'Now, come enjoy what I've brought you.'

As he unpacks all the Tupperware containers, her eyes grow larger and larger in surprise.

'El, this is an entire feast,' she says. 'You almost did bring enough for the team!'

'I got a bit too carried away in the kitchen,' he tries to explain, ignoring the fact that he had purposefully cooked far more than required for this precise reason. 'I just thought that something homemade would be good fuel for you in the midst of all this stress and 'Valentine Killer' bullshit.'

'You thought right,' Olivia agrees, her voice muffled behind a mouthful of pasta she is already tasting. 'Damn, this is delicious…Guess Italy taught you a thing or two about cooking in the end.'

'Hey, I was always a fine cook,' he argues. 'But I will admit to learning a trick or two when I was there.'

It's one of the few times they've mentioned Italy in a teasing manner, rather than it being a source of pain and unspoken issues between them, and he can't help but feel relieved that their relationship has progressed this far, that Olivia is willing to take steps forwards with him.

She demonstrates this herself, by discovering the second fork in his bag and waving it in his direction.

'There's no way I can eat all of this myself,' she tells him. 'Come on, join me for a minute, and then we can get back to work.'

•••

Friday, February 11th: Additional manpower (and an arrest)

'Captain Benson,' Bell's voice filters through the phone. 'Are you looking for Detective Stabler?'

'I…No, why would I be?' Olivia gets distracted by the question for a moment before she decides to ignore it for the much more pressing reason as to why she's calling. 'I was actually calling to see if you would be willing to share the skills of one of your other detectives—Detective Slootmaekers? We've got a hard drive that we think might be key to proving our suspects are in fact our killers, but we've got so many cases going on at the 1-6 right now, we won't be able to get it decrypted for…well, too long. I'm trying to avoid a fourth body, and was wondering if your Detective would be able to support us?'

'Not a problem,' Bell agrees immediately. 'Although I'm surprised with all this news coverage that they aren't making your case priority number one with resourcing.'

'The wonders of being severely understaffed in several units at this precinct,' Olivia sighs. 'Plus a well-known politician accused of tax evasion, fraud and bribery…Guess where the computer crimes unit is currently spending most of their focus.'

Bell makes a sympathetic noise.

'Politicians versus murder,' she reflects. 'I should have known. Well, you have our support, anyway. I'll send Slootmaekers your way immediately—I'm sure she'll enjoy the challenge.'

True to her word, Detective Slootmaekers arrives at the precinct not long after the call, where Fin directs her straight to the hard drive in question.

'Give me a few minutes,' Slootmaekers announces, foregoing any greetings and diving straight into the work.

Olivia isn't too surprised to see Bell following her; in fact, she's pleased to be able to catch up with the Sergeant again in person. The rather recognizable face trailing in after Bell is indeed a surprise, however.

'Detective Stabler?' she says, glancing for a minute between him and Bell. 'I wasn't expecting you as well.'

'Stabler was just explaining about how SVU supported the Hates Crime division over Christmas, due to staff shortages,' Ayanna explains, while Elliot hangs back behind her, sending a sheepish look towards Olivia. 'I guess he thought it's only fair that you get additional help yourselves.'

'Well, we're grateful for you coming over,' Olivia says, turning her full attention to Bell. She abandons Elliot to the wolves that are her team, bringing Ayanna to her office so that they can talk while they wait for Slootmaekers to see if she can work her magic.

It's not long before a loud noise interrupts their conversation, a man's voice blaring out from computer speakers.

'Cap, we got access to the content!' Fin is calling, and she and Bell both rush over.

'My dear love,' a man's face fills the screen, talking intimately at the camera. 'I've given you the gift of three beautiful hearts. But you didn't think that was your entire Valentine's Day gift, did you, Nicole? Your joy in witnessing the proof of my love for you with those girls is nothing compared to what I will give you on the actual day. The color of Valentine's is red, and I will paint the world in it.'

He twists the camera slightly, down towards a table where Olivia can see not only two large, sharp hunting knives, but several rifles as well.

'Surprise, darling! Will you join me in this hunt?'

'Escalation much?' Fin mutters, as they watch. 'Looks like we've ruined the surprise for his girlfriend a couple of days early. Twisted fucker.'

'Hopefully means they haven't decided on their next target yet,' Olivia says. 'Fin, Amanda, Velasco—get your vests. We don't know if Mr. Johnson is aware yet that we got the hard drive from his work. Hopefully not, but let's assume he may know, and he may be prepared.'

'We have three addresses associated with his name, and one under the girlfriend Nicole,' Fin adds. 'We'll have to do a sweep.'

There's some sort of gesturing going on from Elliot out the corner of Olivia's eye, but before she can turn fully towards him, Bell interrupts.

'We'll join you,' she announces, sending a nod to Elliot and then Olivia. 'He could be heavily armed, and whatever girlfriend you've mentioned could be there too—always pays to have back-up.'

In the end, they call in a small SWAT team also, and the entire contingent sets off in convoy. It almost feels like too many people, but Olivia's instincts are kicking in regarding this suspect, sensing he has the potential to be extremely volatile. At the end of the day, she'd rather her people come home without a single scratch on them.

The first two addresses are a bust anyway, an empty apartment Johnson had owned, and a house that he had inherited from his mother. As they drive up to the third one, however, it looks more promising—a large warehouse-type building with a rundown Volvo parked out the side, half-hidden in the encroaching evening darkness. She slides out of the car warily, hand already on her gun as the SWAT team starts to fan out in front of them.

'Velasco, you—' she has barely started to give orders when a barrage of bullets fly their way, coming from two different directions.

'YOU'LL NEVER TAKE US ALIVE!' Johnson screams out a window, half-hidden by metal bars. A quick glance upwards shows Nicole on the roof, aiming carefully at the crowd below.

'Down!' Olivia has a chance to yell, realizing exactly where the rifle is aimed, and she and Velasco hit the ground as the glass on their SUV shatters around them.

'Rollins, with me!' she hears Fin yell, and then someone's arm is around her waist, dragging her backwards along the ground until they're out of the line of fire.

'Liv, stay down,' Elliot's voice is low in her ear, his arm still wrapped around her, but she pushes him back and rolls to her knees, keeping her head low.

'Velasco, don't move,' she hisses, realizing he's more covered from his side of the vehicle. 'El, with me.'

The shooting is continuing, but shifted slightly away from where they are crouched, and she doesn't have to look over her shoulder to know Elliot is following her without hesitation. The fire escape is on their side of the building, and she throws herself up it as quickly and quietly as she possibly can, her heart beating fast as she scrambles to the top of the building, Elliot hot on her heels behind her. The wind is howling up here, and between that and the sound from the rifle, Nicole hasn't noticed their approach.

'Drop it,' she yells, holding up her gun. Nicole jumps slightly, clearly not expecting someone to be nearby, and Olivia can see her rifle start to swing around before Elliot is diving across, bringing Nicole down with him and pushing the gun out of her hands.

A sudden silence falls, and Olivia realizes Johnson must have been stopped one way or the other also.

'Cap, we have Johnson in custody,' Fin's voice crackles onto the radio in just that moment. 'Sending SWAT upwards.'

'Copy that,' she says, shoulders sagging a bit in relief. Nicole is already trussed up in handcuffs, Elliot yanking her none-too-gently to her feet. 'We have the girlfriend in custody also.'

Elliot sends a nod her way as she glances over.

'Looks like we still make a good team, Captain.'

•••

Saturday, February 12th: Dress

It's mid-morning by the time the Organized Crime unit wraps up their role in the whole case, everyone working hard through the night to make the arrests, carry out the interrogations, and have CSU work the warehouse.

No such luck for SVU though, as leads on the case, and while Elliot wishes he could whisk Olivia away for a celebratory breakfast, he knows she's facing a mountain of paperwork. On top of that, Rollins and Fin had fired their weapons, and even if no contact was made with a person, their own stack of papers will keep them busy also.

I'll go get us some food and proper coffee,' Rollins announces in a tired voice, as Fin and Velasco slump over at their desks. Even Olivia is showing the fatigue more than she usually would, leaning against a desk enough that she can pick up her bad ankle and rotate it surreptitiously. He wonders if she'll put her slippers on once they've all left.

'Come on,' Bell nods towards him and Jet. 'We can head off and let them close their case in peace now.'

'I'll join Rollins,' Elliot interrupts loudly, causing everyone to suddenly look at him in confusion. Amanda herself blinks at him.

'I mean…I really could do with a good coffee, so if you don't mind I'll join you on the breakfast run,' he tries to recover, and after a moment, she acquiesces, shrugging her shoulders. Ayanna eyes him far too knowledgeably, but she steers Jet out of the precinct after some parting words with Olivia.

Liv herself is still watching him slightly suspiciously, because they all know Rollins isn't his biggest fan, and she's clearly trying to figure out what he's planning. Elliot's saving grace is that she won't ask him such a personal question in front of everyone else, so he gives her a small wave and cheerful smile as he follows Rollins out of the door.

'So, want to tell me what this is all about?' she demands as soon as they are out of the precinct. The air is cold but fresh, and Elliot inhales deeply as he considers how to respond. Luckily, they are walking in the direction he had hoped they would, so no diversion would be necessary.

'Would you believe it's just because I want some coffee?' he asks, already knowing the answer.

'Look, I love Liv. I want her to be happy, and for some reason she smiles much more when you're around,' she says, rubbing a hand against her forehead in resignation. 'That doesn't mean we have to hang out together or become best friends. Nor do I particularly want to be dragged into whatever scheme you have going right now which brings you to our station all the time. You know you don't need to buy her friendship, right? She's already shown she'll be in your corner no matter what, although I'm not entirely sure why.'

It's arguably the longest Rollins has spoken to him for, and despite her slightly antagonistic tone, Elliot is happy that Liv has so many supportive people in her life now.

At that moment, they pass the very store he had been aiming for, so he reaches out with his hand, letting it land briefly on Amanda's arm.

'Here,' he says, pointing at the window. She glances his way briefly, then spins around to look at the display in the window.

'No,' she states, shaking her head as soon as she sees what he is indicating. 'It's beautiful, but she won't accept that as a gift from you.'

The red dress shines under the lights of the display, just as beautiful as when he first saw it, and he can't help the images that fill his mind of Olivia wearing it to the theatre on Monday. It's not as if he doesn't think she has other lovely dresses to wear, but he also knows her well enough to guess that it's been a long time since she's had the opportunity to spoil herself, or to go out anywhere where this sort of outfit would be suitable.

He tries to explain that precise point to Amanda, but she remains unconvinced.

'Look, this is why I needed you,' he tells her eventually. 'I…I was thinking maybe we could say it comes from you.'

The look she wears is not kind, but rather the type which shows she may be pondering just how smart he could actually be.

'There's no way she'd believe that,' she argues, gesturing wildly with one hand at the dress. 'Firstly, because it's not exactly the type of gift we tend to exchange. And secondly, she's smart enough to realize we left together, and this is more the type of scheme you'd come up with.'

It's not as if she's saying anything that Elliot himself doesn't already know, but for once he decides he's going to be hopeful enough—or perhaps naive enough—to believe they can sneakily pull it off anyway.

'Please, Rollins?' he asks. 'I'll owe you one.'

He must look pitiful enough for her to relent because he can visibly see her softening slightly in the face of his pleading expression.

'Fine,' she says, arms folded. 'But if she's annoyed at being given some fancy dress, then I'm throwing you under a bus.'

Not even thirty minutes after Elliot has purchased the dress and they've gone their separate ways, he receives a text from Olivia.

'Amanda just gave me this,' Olivia has written, including a picture of the dress in its box. 'Said it was for no particular reason. Good timing, right? Considering we're going to the theatre in a couple of days.'

'That was nice of her,' he replies, playing innocent, even as he can feel her suspicion through the messages.

'You wouldn't happen to have anything to do with this?' she shoots back immediately, both of them fully aware that of course, he had everything to do with it.

'I have no idea what you're talking about,' he sends. 'Sorry, gotta dash. Congratulations on closing the case, Liv.'

•••

Sunday, February 13th: Pictures from their past

After so many days of stress on the case, Olivia is thoroughly enjoying a relaxing Sunday where there is nothing urgent trying to pull her attention away from her own personal life. She and Noah had made pancakes together for breakfast and spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon playing board games, where she is still learning to let go of the urge to allow him to win regardless of what they are playing.

With the promise of watching a movie with her that evening, Noah had finally wandered off to play a video game online with Eli, and while she's not a massive fan of him being too focused on video games, she's happy that him and Eli have found some common ground, despite having a sizeable age gap—although she still double checks exactly what they'll be playing before she leaves him alone.

She's just settled down with a cup of tea and one of the books Elliot had given her last week, aiming to enjoy the rare opportunity of having some time to herself, when there is a gentle knock on the door.

She hesitates, clutching the book in one hand, feet up on the couch, wondering if she could just ignore it so whoever was going to shatter her peace could disappear, until her sense of duty overrules her, and she slowly pushes herself up. At the very least, she is praying it isn't someone from work - surely they would have texted her instead, or the doorman would have called up.

She only has to take a quick look through the peephole before she's throwing open the door.

'Hey,' Elliot says, one hand resting on the doorframe as he stares at her with a slightly unsure expression. 'Am I disturbing you? Sorry I didn't ask before I came over.'

One part of her brain thinks she should be annoyed at his presumptuousness, turning up at her home on a Sunday without any warning. The other, far louder, part of her is just happy to see him, even if she has seen him almost every day in this past week.

'Come in,' she says simply in response, pulling back so he can brush past her. 'You were only disturbing my reading of the Count of Monte Cristo.'

Instead of making himself comfortable in her living room, he appears slightly agitated, pacing back and forth without taking his coat off, until she rests a hand on the middle of his back, halting his progress.

'Come sit down with me,' she urges, and he finally follows her to the couch, dropping down with a heavy sigh and tugging off his coat just so he can lean forwards more easily, resting his forearms on his knees.

'El, what is it?' she says, sitting next to him carefully, close enough that their legs brush slightly. He's been doing so well recently—it's been a while since she's seen him upset like this, and she hopes it isn't the start of a new spiral.

They sit in silence for a moment, as she waits for him to address whatever is on his mind.

'I was clearing out some boxes this weekend,' he starts, and she's already beginning to form an idea of what could be bothering him - he must have unearthed some memories of Kathy or his family life before all this tragedy occurred.

He fails to elaborate further, prompting her to gently knock her shoulder into his until he looks her way at last.

'And?' she presses gently. Instead of responding verbally, he leans over to his coat, rummaging through its pockets until he pulls out two photo frames, placing them into her hands. She glances down, expecting to see Kathy's face or a family portrait, but stops short when she sees what the photographs really show. Both are of her and Elliot.

One is from their first year, where they look impossibly young, arms thrown around each other's shoulders, with him wearing a slightly oversized suit, and her hair still in its dark bob, pulled back in a tiny half-ponytail. They are grinning brightly at the camera. The other is from one of their last years together. She can't actually remember when it was taken, but they are looking at each other, him saying something that was clearly a joke because her face is lit up and she is caught mid-laugh. Fin and Munch are lurking in the background, Fin watching them both with his eyebrow raised while Munch appears caught in the middle of an eye roll.

'These are nice pictures,' she says, fingers tightening on the frames. 'I'm glad you kept them.'

He lets out a deep breath, finally reclining onto the couch, and she follows him, leaning back so they are shoulder to shoulder, heads turned to look directly at each other.

'That's the thing,' he tells her. 'They are nice pictures, and I wanted to give you these two as copies because I thought you'd like them. But then I started looking through all our old photographs and I just…'

He trails off, dropping his eyes for a moment. She hugs the frames to her chest and waits.

'I started thinking about how I walked away from this for a decade,' he admits softly. 'I'm not sure how you could begin to forgive me. I've missed so much, wasn't there for you…'

'And sometimes, I'm still angry about that,' she confirms, smiling gently to offset her words. 'But at the end of the day, I'm far happier with you in my life than not. Forgiveness is about the person forgiving, and I choose to enjoy having you with me rather than wasting more time being upset and pushing you away.'

He closes his eyes, hand moving up to rest against her cheek, slowly drawing her forward until their foreheads are touching and they're breathing in sync. Maybe a while ago, she would be uncomfortable at this intimacy, but now she relaxes into his hold, taking a moment to appreciate their proximity.

'Hey mom, can I—oh hi, Elliot!' Noah skids to a halt, and they pull back from each other quickly.

'Hey bud,' Elliot says, clearing his throat. 'How are you doing?'

'Good! Didn't know you were here,' her son says, unbothered by his presence. 'Mom, can I have a snack?'

'As long as you don't ruin your appetite for dinner,' she calls after him, as he already heads towards the kitchen.

'Yes!' he yells back. 'Hey, El, you gonna join us for dinner? We're gonna watch the Lion King afterward.'

Elliot looks at her questioningly, and she shrugs then nods.

'It's a classic,' she confirms. 'You can stay if you want.'

'Sure thing, Noah,' Elliot calls out after her son, eyes never leaving hers. 'I'd love to join you guys.'

•••

Monday, February 14th: Theater (and dinner)

His hands are slightly sweaty as he turns off the engine and stares up at her apartment. He was there less than 24 hours ago, having a casual dinner with Olivia and her son, but everything about this evening feels different, even if he is determined not to push her towards anything other than what she's comfortable with.

'I'm downstairs,' he texts her. 'Shall I come up?'

'No, be down in a second,' she replies almost instantly. He sits patiently, fingers tapping on the steering wheel as he watches the door to her building. After a couple of minutes, he sees someone approaching, and then she is pushing through the door, a dark coat wrapped tightly around her upper half while his attention is captured by her long legs on display, encased in warm tights for the weather but no less tantalizing for it. His eyes travel down to her feet, and he wants to be concerned about the height of the heels she's wearing, but the male part of his brain is too infatuated by how her calves look.

'Hey,' she says, sliding into the seat beside him, her voice amused as if she could tell where his attention had been.

'Hey,' he echoes, reaching out to rest his hand against her thigh briefly in greeting. He can feel the slippery material of a dress underneath his fingers, and feels impatient to see all of her in the warm theatre glow rather than this dim evening light.

For some strange reason, he had half expected them to be awkward together, considering going out to the theatre is not exactly how they usually spend time together. But as soon as he pulls away from the curb, they fall into casual conversation that flows easily all the way to the venue.

'The Play that Goes Wrong,' she reads out from the posters, as they approach the entrance, her face turning quizzical.

'As I said, it's apparently some comedy my kids thought I'd enjoy,' he tells her, hand coming up to rest on her back as he guides her through the doors. He's distracted for a moment as he hands the tickets to the usher, and when he turns back around, his breath catches in his throat as he watches her slide her coat down her arms, revealing the red dress beneath.

'Do you like the dress "Amanda" gave me?' she teases, catching his eyes.

'I do, very much,' he tells her, seriously. He thinks she is beautiful no matter what, dressed in casual clothes, professional suits or anything in between, but there is something about how she looks tonight that reminds him of the fantasies he had all those years ago when they used to go undercover together.

'Well, you aren't too shabby yourself,' she says, a hand coming up to pat him on the chest. 'Now come on, Stabler, let's go and have some fun.'

And laugh they do, at the ridiculousness of the play in front of them, eyes tearing up as they fall into giggling fits. Halfway through the second act, her hand finds his, and they cling on to each other until they're forced to let go for the clapping at the end.

'I can't remember the last time I laughed so much,' she says as they exit into the night, her arm looping around his. 'I needed that.'

'We both did,' he agrees, feeling lighter than he has done in a long while. He had missed feeling this much joy, missed seeing Olivia's bright and unhindered smile in front of him. It reminds him of the start of their partnership, back when the world didn't seem so bleak and heavy, and he wants to try and find that feeling again more often in their lives. If the last year has taught him anything, it's that there is never enough time to spend with the important people in his life, and if he owes Olivia anything, it is to help her feel loved and joyful again.

He doesn't say any of that out loud however, not wanting to push her too far too soon. Instead, he presses his arm closer into his side, capturing her hand tight against his body, and they slowly wander the block down to the restaurant he'd booked all those weeks earlier.

When they arrive, the place is decorated with bright red hearts, flowers adorning every table, and it seems as if the entire restaurant is populated by couples out on their Valentine's dates. Olivia glances his way for a moment, but follows him inside without a word, sliding comfortably into the seat opposite his.

He thinks he's gotten away with his entire plan, that she's dropped the topic despite having some questions, but he should have known she was just waiting for him to be lulled into a false sense of security, where he's trapped by both the table and her stare.

'So, want to tell me what's been going on for these past couple of weeks?' she demands as soon as the waiter has left them, leaning forwards slightly. He can't help but dip his eyes downwards at the view, feeling his face flush red when he realizes how obvious he's being.

'I don't know what you mean…' he hedges, but knows he is cracking under her unimpressed gaze.

'C'mon El, I know you,' she says with a slight smirk. 'You've been planning something, with these seemingly random gifts, dropping by the station all the time, this night out…'

She reaches out across the table, capturing his fingers in hers, and it's this reassurance that has him admitting everything.

'It's what you said back in January,' he tells her, and with her furrowed brow, he can see her trying to remember exactly what he's referring to, the conversation clearly not as significant to her as it was to him. 'You said you hadn't experienced any great Valentine's, so I just wanted…'

He isn't sure how to describe exactly what was going on in his mind, but she seems to understand anyway.

'You wanted to give me a nice Valentine's date?' she says, tilting her head slightly. 'And what about the two weeks before?'

'Trying to make up for some of the shittier ones?' he replies, with a nervous laugh. 'It was easy to get inspired.'

'Are you ready to order, Sir? Ma'am?' the waiter interrupts politely, and the moment is gone, as they shift to more casual topics while they wait for their food to be delivered.

It isn't until he is driving her home again, that Olivia returns to the topic.

'I had a nice evening,' she tells him, relaxed and smiling in the seat next to him. He wants to see her like this again, to capture this feeling for them both to revisit when their work and lives get overwhelming once more.

'Me too,' he says. 'We should…do it again sometime?'

She hums her agreement, and he wishes he could concentrate on her expression, half-hidden in the darkness, but he can only glance her way whenever the roads are empty.

Too soon, they are pulling up in front of her building once more.

He feels slightly like a teenager, out on a date for the first time, heart beating fast and palms sweaty, unsure how the night should end. He cuts the engine for a moment, twisting to face her properly as he ponders what to say.

'Still friends?' he asks and then winces at how pathetic that sounds to his own ears. Olivia burst out laughing, the sound loud in the car as she shakes her head at him slightly.

'Elliot, we've been practically dating these past two weeks,' she tells him, and then her hands are grasping either side of his face, pulling him closer until her lips are on his, her tongue exploring his mouth. He makes an embarrassing noise of surprise until his brain catches up with the moment, his own hands reaching back out to her, one sliding under her unzipped coat to rest on her waist, the other tangling in her hair, as he had wanted to do all evening.

'Partners,' she whispers against his lips, pulling back slightly.

'Hmm?' he says, too dazed to register her meaning.

'Not friends, partners,' she tells him, and then they don't talk again for a very long time.