"How do you like your eggs?" she asks him one morning. They have been dating for a couple of months, but spending the night is a new occurrence; one that makes her realize she doesn't know what he likes for breakfast.
She's rummaging through the fridge as she asks, and he can't help but smile at the sight of her in nothing but his old Jets jersey. "You gonna make me breakfast?" he asks.
Turning, she takes note of the smirk on his face. "A lot changes in ten years, Stabler. And I couldn't raise Noah on take out, so I had to learn." She smiles back at him as she grabs a pan from under the counter.
"However you like them is fine with me," he says honestly, but her smile fades and he watches as she walks around the island to where he is sitting. She runs her hands from his collarbone down his chest as she leans her forehead against his.
"El, I think it's sweet that you are so agreeable, and I know we already know so much about one another, but there are things we don't. Two decades worth of little things that I never got to learn about you. So…" she pauses, kissing him gently, "please tell me how you like your eggs."
"Over easy," he says softly. "You?"
She smiles, this time placing a kiss under his right ear. "Same," she whispers, and he's convinced just her voice alone will one day be his undoing. Then she's moving back to the stove and he now knows why they say breakfast is the most important meal of the day.
Olivia moves around the kitchen with a confidence that he didn't expect, but he realizes he shouldn't be surprised. Before, she hadn't cooked because she didn't need to, and now as a widower he understood that better. Preparing a meal for one is lonely. But with Noah, she had a reason to learn. And when she sets her mind to something, she doesn't do it halfway.
The eggs are on low as she pops two pieces of bread into the toaster. There is bacon in the oven and orange juice on the counter, and she is multitasking the way only a woman can do. She is sexy and poised, and he can't take his eyes off of her.
"You're staring," she says with a shy grin, breaking him from his trance.
"You're beautiful," he says in response, as if it's both the most obvious truth and his newest discovery.
Blushing, she plates the eggs, placing them in front of him on the counter. Then she adds two pieces of toast and some bacon to each of their plates before grabbing the pitcher of orange juice. She pours him a glass first before reaching for another but he stops her. "Just one is fine. We can share."