This is late, I know, and I'm super sorry. I've been so busy (it was finals season) but I think this chapter will make up for the wait. Thanks so much for the reviews; continue to leave your thoughts below, please.
Chapter 11 – Thanksgiving
Elliot doesn't answer when Olivia calls. As soon as his voicemail clicks on, she glances at the clock of her car radio and realizes that he probably isn't even home yet. Sighing to herself, she hangs up without leaving a message and heads inside.
Elliot will call her back that night, twice. However, her courage has passed, and so she can't bring herself to answer the phone. She didn't know what she would say to him, anyway. She didn't know how she felt, even. She had thought about breaking up with Brian in the first place because of Elliot, really, but now that they were over, she was even less sure than she had originally been about any potential they had. She didn't need to be with someone who was going to try and control her life. She wouldn't go through that again.
So, she avoids talking to Elliot for the next week. It's easy when it's Kathy's week with the kids, but she's worried about the week after that. But still, she probably would have been able to make it through that next week with minimal contact, had it not been for two things: Thanksgiving, and her son Luke.
It begins on Monday night when Olivia picks Luke up from school. He shuffles into the backseat with his normal level of energy, and before Olivia can even ask how his day was, he's speaking excitedly.
"Can Dickie come over for Thanksgiving?" Olivia chuckles. This isn't the first time this question has been asked, and so she gives the answer she normally does.
"Luke, we've talked about this," she begins. "Thanksgiving is a holiday to spend with your family. Dickie's going to be spending it with his own parents."
"Not this year," Luke says, fast enough so that Olivia can tell he'd planned this conversation already. "He's staying with his dad this year for Thanksgiving, and he doesn't even know how to make a turkey or stuffing or anything like that. I told Dickie they could just come over to our house and you could cook."
"Oh," Olivia says incredulously. "Well, thanks for letting me know."
"Sorry," Luke says, his cheeks red. He ducks his head down. "But they can come over, can't they? They're basically our family, too."
Olivia almost swears. It's a good move. Luke knows this, and a smile finds its way to his face. Just for good measure, he makes eye contact with Olivia in the mirror and adds a:
"Please, mom?"
Olivia huffs, making a quick turn before rolling the idea over in her mind. She still hadn't spoken to Elliot, which made things difficult. And while her apartment definitely wasn't small by New York standards, it wasn't extremely spacious either. But then she thinks about Elliot, running around and trying to prepare a turkey, and stuffing, and green beans for four kids. She supposed that if they all came over, it wouldn't really be too crowded. They could use the dining room table instead of the kitchen table, add a few chairs if needed…
She glances at her soon in the rear-view mirror again, a wide smile on his face. He already knew he'd won.
"I'll think about it."
•
Olivia calls Elliot after dinner. He picks up on the second ring.
"Hey, Liv," he says. Olivia's heart softens immediately. He sounds apologetic already. "I, uh, you know. How are you?"
"Good," Olivia says, not wanting to have a long conversation about the last time they'd seen each other. She'd be happy to forget it ever happened, really. "I heard you're doing Thanksgiving this year."
"I am," Elliot confirms, sighing. He seems to understand her eagerness to avoid talking about that Monday night and doesn't push. "I don't know how on earth I'm going to make it work, but…"
"Why don't you come over?" Olivia says, interrupting. This seems to catch Elliot off guard, so she continues. "Really. I always make way too much food, and I can show you some things. I know you haven't done it alone before."
"I haven't," Elliot says tentatively. He pauses for a moment. "Are you sure? I mean, there's five of us, that's not just one extra place setting." Olivia chuckles. It's very hard when speaking to him, to stay upset. Maybe that why she'd been avoiding him, really; she'd wanted to stay mad for a little while.
"I'm sure," Olivia says. "And it'll be fun. To have everyone together, you know?"
"Yeah," Elliot says. Olivia can almost hear him smiling. "Yeah, it would. Okay, sure. We'll come over."
"Okay," Olivia echoes. She's trying to fight back her own smile. "Good."
"I can bring something," Elliot says. "I don't want to show up empty-handed, you know? I mean, whatever you need. As long as I don't have to cook; that's probably best for everyone."
"You can bring drinks," Olivia says, chuckling. "And paper plates and utensils. I know people think you're supposed to eat on china at Thanksgiving, but…"
"We have kids," Elliot muses. "Okay. Drinks, utensils, plates, and napkins too, probably?"
"Yeah," Olivia says. "That sounds good. You guys can come over around 4 on Thursday if that's okay?"
"Perfect," Elliot says. "Thanks, Liv; this makes things a lot easier. I don't know what I'd do without you."
"It's no problem," Olivia says, but her stomach has done a flip-flop. "I'll see you Thursday."
"See you Thursday," Elliot says. "Bye."
"Bye."
After Olivia hangs up the phone, she catches sight of herself in her bedroom mirror. Her cheeks are red.
God, she is pathetic.
•
The night before Thanksgiving, Olivia dreams.
Towards the beginning of their marriage, Olivia and Jonathan went on dates a few times a month, usually once a week. They went to gallery openings and museums and jazz concerts, all depending on what was in the city, but Olivia's personal favorite was the symphony. The best performance she had attended had taken place in November of 1991, on a brisk Saturday night. The composer had introduced new music that night – a combination of songs inspired by hymnals and pastorals, and when the orchestra played it brought Olivia to tears. She couldn't quite place why it had touched her in the way that it had, but she knew that she would remember that night forever from the moment the first violin note rang out. She'd sat and absorbed everything she could: the low lighting, the severe look on the conductor's face, even Jonathan's hand clasping hers tightly. It was all awesome. All amazing. All perfect.
When they'd gotten back to their house, the music had still been floating around in Olivia's brain, overtaking her thoughts. That's why she hadn't noticed Jonathan's arms slipping around her waist and drawing her closer, and it's not until she feels his breath on the back of her neck and a nip on her ear that she's pulled back to the present.
"Not tonight," she'd said softly, trying to sound as remorseful as possible. But she didn't want to ruin the night, or the beautiful music, or the lovely dinner they'd had after they'd left the symphony. She wanted to remember how nice it felt to crunch leaves under her feet and walk to the tune of a song that made her feel light enough to fly. She wanted to remember the deafening applause at the end of the very last piece. She wanted to remember Jonathan's hand in hers, comforting and warm, not cold and groping against her skin in the dead of night.
But Jonathan had pushed. And Olivia had pushed back, emboldened by the orchestra and their music in her head. She didn't usually disagree with her husband so adamantly. That seemed to spark something in him. Sometimes, if she said that she wasn't in the mood, he'd leave her alone. Sometimes he'd talk her into bed anyway. But that night in November was the first time her forced her; pulling and dragging her back into the bedroom and forcing her dress down. She remembered that well. Her gorgeous black gown, that shimmered in the light, strewn on the floor haphazardly. He'd pushed her back onto the bed afterward, his tone as honey sweet as it always was, contrasting his rough movements as he tugs Olivia's arms away from her naked chest. She's nearly frozen by this point. She wanted to fight back, and she knew she should have, but she just couldn't get any of her limbs to work.
"Please, my love," Olivia is pleading, her voice soft. The music in her head is getting louder. "Not tonight; I don't want to tonight."
"Sh," Jonathan says, palming her breasts. His hands are cold, but his voice is warm, inviting. Olivia shivers. "Just give me a second."
Shortly after that, Olivia had drifted away. She goes back to the symphony, but now she sits in the theatre alone and the entire orchestra is playing just for her. A rising vibrato rings in her ears. She feels the cello notes in her belly, the harp in her toes, the tuba in her head. As they play, louder and louder, she begins crying again. This time, she knows why.
Olivia wakes with a start, her breathing rapid and her cheeks wet. She glances at the clock, wipes her face with her sleeve, and turns in bed before closing her eyes again.
•
At 3:45 on Thanksgiving Day, Olivia is frazzled. She doesn't want to chalk this up to nerves, because then she'd have to admit that having Elliot over made her nervous and that didn't make any sense at all, but she is definitely not functioning as well as she usually would. Her dream from the previous night was still bugging her, which was also odd. Olivia was no stranger to nightmares. They came almost every night. But this last one had felt so real, and every time she'd fallen back asleep it had come back just as clearly as it had before. When her alarm went off this morning, she'd almost expected to wake up to Jonathan's sweating body on top of her. It had taken a minute to climb out of bed, and even now, she felt like she would benefit from a nap.
Thankfully, Grace is napping now, but she had been fussy all morning, which, in addition to everything else, had made Olivia feel a little fussy herself. She stands at the stove now, her blouse slipping off of her shoulder, her hair clipped back because it was still a little too short to be pulled up, tasting her gravy for the millionth time. It's missing something, she knows it is, but for the life of her, she can't remember what, which is absolutely absurd because she'd made this same gravy for around 10 years.
Luke passes by the kitchen, catching Olivia's eye. She catches sight of the oversized football jersey he's wearing and sighs as she calls him over.
"Luke, baby, what are you wearing?" she asks. "Can you put on a good shirt, please? Maybe the blue one."
"I can't play football in that," Luke responds. He sees his mother's confusion and explains. "Dickie said he and his dad always play football on Thanksgiving. I thought that since they were coming over, we'd all play."
"I don't know if that's gonna happen today," Olivia says, adding a little more pepper to the gravy. She tastes it again, still not satisfied. "You know we don't have a yard."
"The park isn't that far," Luke says, sounding a little let down. Olivia glances at her glum-looking son and her face softens. She nods for him to come closer.
"Here, taste this gravy for me," she says, grabbing another clean spoon and dipping it into the pot. "It's missing something."
Luke raises the spoon to his mouth and pauses a second, before scanning his eyes over the kitchen counter.
"Did you put in the vinegar?" he asks, dropping his spoon to the sink. Olivia shakes her head, leaning up and reaching into the cabinet.
"Cider vinegar, that's it," she says, grabbing the bottle. After adding a little to the pot, she grabs one last spoon and tastes it again before smiling at her son and pecking a quick kiss on his cheek. "Much better. Thank you; I love you."
"I love you, too, mom," Luke says, wiping her lipstick off of his face, his cheeks red. There's a quick knock on the door and Olivia puts a lid on the gravy before tapping Luke's shoulder.
"Blue shirt, with the collar, please," she asks, sending Luke back to his room to change. She wipes her hands on a dishtowel and heads to the door. Catching a look at herself in the mirror, she exhales and tries to straighten herself out quickly. Then finally, she opens the doors, revealing five very cheery looking Stabler's.
"Happy Thanksgiving," they all crow as Olivia steps aside to let them into the apartment. There's a quick shuffle as everyone's coats come off. Olivia shakes her head slightly to herself as she catches sight of Dickie's Giants jersey, then raises her eyes to Elliot, who is smiling at her.
"Hey," he says, pulling her into a quick hug, at least as well as he can with the grocery bags in his hands. "Feels like I haven't seen you in a while."
"Yeah," Olivia says softly - as if she hadn't noticed. She leads the group further into the house and addresses the two older girls first. "Hi, Maureen, Kathleen. There's a game on in the living room, but you can change the channel of course."
"Thanks, Liv," Kathleen says, smiling shyly at Olivia. She and her older sister head for the TV, leaving Olivia with the twins and Elliot.
"Luke's changing right now, he'll be out in a minute," she informs Dickie. He nods and takes one of the bags from his dad.
"We can start setting the table," Dickie offers, leading Lizzie to the dining room table, and leaving Olivia and Elliot alone. Elliot shakes his head in disbelief slightly as Olivia leads him to the kitchen.
"A totally different kid, from the moment we step into your building," he says, setting the remaining grocery bags on the table before glancing at Olivia. He pauses for a minute, looking back at the kids before lowering his voice slightly. "So, Liv, about what happened at the bar…"
"Don't worry about it," Olivia says, smiling tightly and deflecting as quickly as she can.
"So, these are the drinks? You can stick them in the freezer to chill if you want." Elliot does as instructed, nodding slowly. His eyes follow her as she moves around the kitchen.
"Yeah, there's a chocolate cake, too. Store-bought, of course, but I didn't feel like I was doing enough," he says, smiling slightly. Olivia glances at him and shakes her head.
"It's really no trouble," she says, lifting the cake out of the bag. "It's good that we have another dessert though. There's a pumpkin pie in the fridge, but that was all I made."
"All you made?" Elliot says, motioning to the kitchen around them, "Olivia, this is enough food to feed a fleet. I really feel like I owe you…"
"You don't," Olivia assures, shaking her head. She glances around the kitchen, starting to point out dishes. "It wasn't all that hard. There's turkey, gravy, stuffing, green beans, carrots, potatoes, and rolls. Now, I know what the twins eat, and Kathleen sort of, but I wasn't sure about Maureen..."
"Olivia," Elliot interrupts, bringing her eyes back to him before shaking his head. "This is amazing. You're amazing. Thank you for having us. Really."
Olivia smiles slightly, flicking her eyes away and busying herself with finding the thermometer for the food. Elliot smile only widens slowly as he watches her. He'd missed spending time with Olivia. And he'd been extremely afraid that she'd been mad at him, especially when she hadn't answered the phone on that night, but it seemed like for now, at least, they were okay. He'd need to talk to her, to be sure, but he understood that this wasn't the time. He'd find a way to speak to her before they left.
He notices - because it's hard not to notice - that she looks particularly nice today. Her hair has been pulled away from her face, and her shirt kept falling down one shoulder, exposing her olive toned skin. She blows a piece of hair out of her face and shrugs to fix her shirt now, but it just falls down again. Her hands are occupied, and so Elliot steps in and guides her shirt back over her shoulder. She glances over at him, trying her hardest not to blush.
"Thanks," she says. Elliot leans against the counter and nods, his eyes running over her face. She pulls her eyes away as quickly as she can, moving to open the oven and put a few of the dishes inside. Elliot wonders briefly if she is still seeing Brian.
"So," Elliot begins, getting Olivia to glance up at him. "Is anyone else coming over? Brian, maybe?"
"No, it's just us," Olivia says, not looking away from the oven. When she straightens up she notices the look on Elliot's face and sighs softly, deciding to answer his unasked question. "We aren't seeing each other anymore."
"Oh," Elliot answers, trying to sound surprised. "I'm sorry."
"Save it," Olivia says, offering a small smile to show him that she's not still upset. "You made it clear that didn't like us together very much."
"That's not true," Elliot says. "I just…"
Olivia looks over at him again and he offers a sheepish smile.
"Okay," he says. "Maybe I didn't."
"It's alright," Olivia says. "We weren't the best fit." She wipes her hands on a dishtowel and thinks for a moment about Brian's suggestion that she and Elliot end up together. She steals another glance at Elliot before chastising herself. Now is not the time to be wondering about her and Elliot's relationship. She needs to change the subject.
"Is there anything I can help you with?" Elliot is asking, just as Luke passes by the kitchen. This is good, Olivia thinks. Maybe she just needs a little distance; a second to collect herself.
"Well, the food is pretty much done, I just want to make sure everything's heated up," she says, turning to make sure the oven is on. "But there is one thing?"
"Sure," Elliot says, moving away from the counter.
"Could you take the boys to the park?" she asks. "It's just down the block, and Luke was expecting to play football with you. You don't have to stay for that long, maybe 15 minutes. When you come back everything will be ready and we can eat."
"Of course," Elliot says, nodding. "That's no problem. I'll go get them."
He steps out of the kitchen, giving Olivia a chance to exhale and try her hardest to shake the fog that had crept into her brain.
•
Things move a little more smoothly after Elliot leaves. Olivia is able to heat everything up, and true to her word, by the time the boys come back and wash up, everything is set up.
Knowing that she has to distance herself from Elliot if she plans to make it through this dinner, Olivia sits them on opposite ends of the table. This will prevent him from leaning in and whispering corny jokes to her, and therefore keep her from somehow falling for that same routine for the millionth time. When they sit down, Elliot does look a little sad to be so far away from Olivia, but he doesn't say anything.
Dinner goes well. Most of the conversation is focused on the kids. They talk about school and Maureen's college search and extracurriculars. Elliot only addresses her a few times to tell her that the food is amazing. Olivia is happy to hear that Kathleen will be attending public school next year and that her parents had signed her up for painting lessons. Dickie and Luke spend a long time talking about the science fair with Elliot, and while they discuss this, Olivia goes to get a now awake Grace. By the time she manages to finish feeding her daughter and herself, it's almost 7 pm and everyone is stuffed.
The boys volunteered to clear the table and load the few dishes that there were into the dishwasher. This makes Elliot shoot a look at Olivia, who winks, before going back to the kitchen to help put away leftovers. She comes back to the table after a minute, as Luke had insisted that he could take care of everything.
"They're such good kids," Olivia muses as she sits back at the table. Elliot nods in agreement before sticking out his tongue and making Grace laugh. Over the course of dinner, Olivia's youngest had somehow migrated to his lap.
When the boys come back, they seem to be discussing something. Luke speaks up first.
"Mom, can we all watch the movie together?" he asks. Olivia clicks her tongue.
"It's getting kind of late, bud," she says. "Elliot and his family might have other plans."
"Movie?" Elliot asks.
"We watch A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving every year," Olivia explains. "It's a weird thing. Jonathan used to do it." Olivia notices Elliot tense slightly at the mention of her late husband, but he recovers quickly.
"Well, if it's a tradition, we wouldn't mind staying," Elliot says, looking around at his kids. Maureen and Kathleen both nod sleepily. It's nice at Olivia's house. It feels warm, and besides, they're full and tired and don't feel much like going anywhere anyway. "Only if that's okay with you, of course."
"It's fine with me," Olivia assures. "You want to set the VHS player up, Luke?'
"Yes!" he says, nudging Dickie and running back to his room to grab the tape. Olivia chuckles, standing and guiding everyone else over to the living room. The older girls sit on the loveseat together, looking like they could fall asleep at any time. Olivia, who had been tired way back at 8 am, isn't far behind. She sits on the couch with Elliot next to her, Grace still in his lap. Elliot is quick to lay his free arm behind her and Olivia, searching for distance, moves to the side and pats the space in between them.
"Lizzie, you can sit with us," she says to the youngest girl. Lizzie plops in between them, granting Olivia the barrier she'd wanted. The boys return with the tape, and Luke puts it into the VCR player and turns the TV on.
"I forgot to rewind it," he groans, making his way to the couch. He sits on the other side of Elliot, and Dickie sits between Lizzie and Olivia, yawning along with Kathleen. Elliot chuckles.
"It's your turkey," he tells Olivia. "Which was great, by the way. Everything was."
"Thank you," Olivia says, smiling softly as she leans on her elbow. "I'm glad you all enjoyed it."
"I'm glad we came," Maureen says. "Dad was going to end up making spaghetti or something if he was left on his own."
"What's so wrong with that?" Elliot asks, making the girls giggle. Grace stirs on his lap, and he positions her so that she can lay her head on his shoulder and close her eyes.
"There," Luke says triumphantly, pressing play as the movie reaches the beginning. He sets the remote down and wiggles backward, getting comfortable. Elliot manages to catch Olivia's eye, and he smiles a little.
"I bet we all fall asleep before it's over," he whispers as Olivia reaches up to turn off the main light, leaving only the lamp to light the room. She chuckles softly as she leans back into the couch, yawning despite her reply.
"It's only 30 minutes long," she says. "I'm sure we can make it."
•
Of course, Elliot had known what he was talking about. Olivia doesn't even remember closing her eyes, but when she opens them, she's staring at the frozen TV screen, stuck on the last credits frame. She blinks a few times, eventually, managing to look down at her watch. It's just after 9. She looks up and around the room. The two older girls are fast asleep on the loveseat. Lizzie and Luke are both leaning on Elliot's arms, and Grace is out on his chest. Elliot himself has his head back and is snoring lightly. This makes Olivia chuckle to herself. She glances back down slightly and can't help but smile when she sees Dickie, his head in her lap. She runs a hand through his hair gently. Luke really had picked a great best friend. Dickie was a good kid, with a good family. Maybe Luke hadn't been exaggerating all that much when he'd said they were all basically family anyway.
Olivia looks over to her right again and finds that her eyes freeze on Elliot, nearly buried under three children. He's a good dad. He's a good guy altogether. She had been doing such a good job at distracting and distancing herself that they hadn't really had the chance to talk about anything today, but the truth was that she'd enjoyed spending this time with him. They always had a good time when they got together.
Grace stirs now slightly, whining a little. She can't be all that comfortable. Olivia suspects that no one is. So, making a quick decision, she rubs Dickie's back lightly, getting him to wake up a little.
"Huh," he mutters, leaning up and rubbing his eyes. Olivia's smile widens, and she nods at Luke.
"Wake up Luke, go sleep in his room. Take your sister. You can both wear some of his clothes," Olivia says quietly. Dickie nods tiredly, standing and going over to shake Lizzie and Luke gently. The three of them trudge back to Luke's room. When they're gone, Olivia takes Grace, moving slowly enough not to disturb Elliot, and then goes over to the older girls and wakes them gently.
"Hey," she says to them. "Go back to my room. You guys can sleep in there. There are pajamas in the dresser."
"Okay," Kathleen says softly, rubbing her eyes. She nudges Maureen, who'd been nodding back off and together they head to the back. Olivia follows, yawning to herself before taking Grace back into her room, changing her clothes, and laying her down in her crib. As she does this, the initial shuffling noises of everyone moving and getting ready to sleep subside. When she steps back out, she checks in on the other 5 sleeping children, then grabs clothes for she and Elliot to change into.
Elliot is awake – or mostly awake – when she gets back to the living room. He's sitting up on the couch, still looking half-asleep.
"I woke up and everyone was gone," he says, his voice a little raspy from sleep. Olivia's heart jolts for some stupid reason, and she nods, trying to ignore it.
"I sent all the kids back to go to bed," she says. "It's late."
"Oh," Elliot says, beginning to close his eyes again. "Okay."
"El," Olivia says to get his attention again, mildly amused. He looks back at her and she passes him the sweats she's holding. "That means we're stuck with the couch, though. Here are some clothes."
"These are mine," Elliot says, inspecting the sweatpants. "Where'd you get these?"
"You," Olivia answers, turning away to change. It's dim, and she is tired, so she doesn't care all that much, but she swears that when she slips out of her jeans and into a pair of shorts, she can feel Elliot's eyes on her. "The weekend I had that first date with Brian. Remember?"
"Right," Elliot says, standing and turning around so that his back is facing Olivia. He starts to change as well. "Brian."
"Oh, come on," Olivia says, slipping the t-shirt she had over her head. She tosses her day clothes onto the loveseat before plopping back onto the couch. "It's over anyway."
"I know," Elliot says, turning back to her, now dressed in sweats and an undershirt. He puts his extra clothes next to Olivia's before sitting next to her and wrapping his arms around her. It was clear that this was something he'd wanted to do for a long time. Olivia was too tired to act like she didn't enjoy it. She curls up against his chest as they lay back, adjusting and getting comfortable. Earlier, Olivia had been nervous. But, now, for some reason, with the sun down, peering at Elliot in only the light of the lamp, she felt at ease. She felt safe. This was almost too easy, being with him. It was always at times like these that it was hard to remember her worries, her fears, her reasons for not pursuing Elliot. "I hope that's not because of me."
"No," Olivia says softly, inhaling the faint smell of Elliot's cologne. "It's not."
"Good," Elliot says. There's a small pause. One of his hands strokes her waist gently, and Olivia shivers. This was why she'd spent so much time trying to avoid him today, maybe. The second she let her guard down, she fell into him immediately. And it didn't matter, if they had been arguing, or if they were around other people. They fit together, that had always been clear.
Elliot continues, tracing over her skin. "I'm sorry, for the way I talked to you."
"It's okay," Olivia murmurs, closing her eyes. She's drifting off, only half-listening.
"And I'm sorry, for what I insinuated about your marriage. That wasn't fair."
"Mm."
"I just care a lot about you, you know?"
"I know."
"I mean…" There's another brief pause here. Elliot's hands stop moving over Olivia's skin, and she almost whines in protest, but instead, she just looks up at Elliot, who's concentrating. "I mean, I love you, you know?"
This is enough to bring Olivia out of her dreamlike state. She leans up on Elliot's chest a little, looking him in the eye.
"What?" she asks. Elliot's eyes don't leave hers.
"You're my best friend," he explains. Olivia's heart falls just slightly. For a moment, just a moment she'd thought that he'd meant something else. And that was insane, she knew, but words had sent a wave of butterflies throughout her whole body. She didn't know what to make of that.
"I just want you to be happy," Elliot finishes. Olivia realizes she's still staring at him and blinks, shaking her head quickly.
"I am," she says softly. "When I'm with you, at least, I am."
She doesn't know where this comes from. But as soon as she says it, she realizes it's true. She remembers, faintly, all of the Thanksgiving's before this one, and realizes quickly that today has been one of the best she'd had in her entire life. That was due to Elliot. He made her happy. Emboldened by the darkness, she is able to admit that out loud.
Elliot tilts his head slightly, watching her. They're slipping into another one of those moments. One of those moments where Olivia wants nothing more than to kiss Elliot as deeply as she can, where she wants him to pull her in and not let go. This is what she'd been trying to avoid all day, but it didn't really matter. The moment will pass, she knows. The moment always passes.
Except for this time, it doesn't.
No lights come back on. No one interrupts them. No one says any dumb joke to lighten the mood. It's just Olivia and Elliot, staring at each other, wrapped up in each other's arms, both waiting for the other to make the first move.
It's Elliot that leans in to close the gap. But it's Olivia that presses her lips to his. They kiss slowly, briefly. It's a tentative kiss, a question almost. When they pull apart they're both staring at each other again, waiting for the other to say something.
"I'm…" Olivia begins, searching for words. Suddenly, she had no vocabulary. Her head feels like it's filled with fog. All she can focus on his the smell of Elliot's cologne, and how firm his chest is under her body. It takes awhile for her to clear her head and say something coherent. "I'm sorry." This is a reflex. It doesn't make any sense for her to be sorry, and she doesn't really know that she is, but she says it anyway.
"Me too," Elliot says quietly. "That was..."
"Weird," Olivia finishes. She's begun to backtrack now, and it's hard to stop herself. "And we're tired."
"We should just go to sleep," Elliot suggests. He seems to understand. Almost at least. The look in his eye is different, curious. Olivia nods slowly. She lays her head on his upper chest, and Elliot's left arm tightens around her waist.
"Goodnight," she says.
"Goodnight," Elliot says. There's a brief moment of quiet. And then, in what feels like slow-motion, Elliot's free hand is tilting Olivia's chin up, and they're kissing again. Olivia doesn't know why, but she can't bring herself to stop. On so many different occasions, she'd wondered what this would feel like. And it's better than she had imagined really. Her mind is still groggy, but she knows that Elliot's lips are soft against hers. That every time he leans in, sparks shoot throughout her body. It feels good to kiss Elliot. It feels so good.
Neither of them pulls away until they absolutely have to in order to catch their breath. Afterward, Olivia blinks at Elliot slowly, unable to process anything other than how tired she is.
"Night," Olivia repeats quietly, her head spinning. She lays her head back on Elliot's chest.
"Night," Elliot answers. He starts to run his fingers across her skin again. Olivia exhales softly.
She doesn't have another bad dream that night.