So I managed to write one relatively quickly. Hallelujah! And yes, it's very fluffy. What can I say? Fluff is easier to write than substance.

I see myself in the victims. Not all the victims. The children. The ones who think they've found someone to love them, and then they wind up raped or beaten or dead. At least I escaped the latter, but sometimes I think that it might have been better that way. Not now – now I have Olivia, and she makes my life worth living. But sometimes it's a tempting thought, to be free of the pain that follows me around, from the monster that lives inside my head.

Olivia calls me around noon and says they caught a case – fifteen-year-old raped by her boyfriend, who happens to be four years older. She needs me to get a warrant to search his house for the knife he used to subdue her. I tell her I'll be there in twenty.

I weasel the warrant out of Petrovsky, even though she's not particularly inclined to grant any of my motions these days, and drop it off at the precinct myself. Olivia's in the interrogation room, sweating the boyfriend, and Elliot's watching through the one-way window. He turns when I come in. "Thanks, Alex," he says, taking the warrant from me.

I cross my arms and turn back to the window, watching Olivia. I never tire of this particular activity, whether I'm watching her interrogate a perp or whether I'm sitting across the table from her at a quant Italian restaurant. "Has he confessed yet?"

"Nope."

"How long has she been in there for?"

"Maybe an hour or so. He's just a kid. He'll break soon."

"Mm hm."

Elliot looks at me for a long moment. "Is there anything else, Counselor?"

"No. You're free to execute the warrant now."

"Then what are you doing?"

I don't take my eyes off Olivia. "Observing."

"May I ask why?"

The corners of my lips twitch. "I'd really rather you didn't."

Elliot smiles and knocks lightly on the mirror. Olivia looks up, says something to the suspect, and comes out into the hallway. "What is it?" she asks Elliot, folding her arms over her chest.

He quirks an eyebrow and gestures to me. "Looks like someone's here to see you."

Olivia's face relaxes into a smile. "Oh, hi, Alex. If I recall correctly, I owe you lunch."

I smile back. "If you're busy, we can reschedule."

She shrugs. "El, why don't you have a go at him? I'll be back in an hour." She takes my hand and leads me out of the precinct.

"Where are we going?"

"Just across the street to the deli. Unfortunately, I'm going to be cheap."

I laugh. "That's okay. You brought me breakfast, remember?"

"True, true. So next time, it's on you, darlin'."

I grin, not because she's told me that I'm paying next time, not even because she's told me that she wants there to be a next time, but that she's called me darlin'. Southern drawl and all.

"Liv?"

"Yeah?"

I take a deep breath and offer her my sweetest smile. "I love you."

Her face is transformed with those three simple words, softening and breaking into the most beautiful smile I've ever seen. Her smile just about lights up my world.

She wraps her arms around me, pulling me close and then cradling my head in her hands. "I love you, too," she says, and the next thing I know, she's kissing me, or maybe I'm kissing her, soft and sweet. I lean into her and close my eyes, taking in the intoxicating feel of Olivia. This is bliss.

After what might have been an instant or an eternity, we break apart, and just gaze into each other's eyes for a long moment.

"Wow," is all she says.

I smile. "My sentiments exactly."

She pulls me against her again and buries her face in my hair. "I love you," she repeats, her words muffled, and I feel a few tears land on the crown of my head.

"Liv?"

She lets go of me and wipes her eyes. "Yeah?"

I take her hand. "Why are you crying?"

"I'm not."

"Okay. Why is there moisture in your eyes?"

She smiles weakly. "You don't know how long I've waited for you to say that, or for you to accept it when I say that to you."

And then I feel like crying, too. Olivia is just so sweet. "Then I'll say it a million times, because it's true."

She tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and gives my hand a squeeze. "Ready to go get lunch?"

"On one condition."

"What's that?"

"You let me buy you dinner tomorrow."

She laughs. "A bit eager, aren't we?"

I shrug unrepentantly. "Is that a problem?"

"Hey, I'm not complaining. I'm not about to turn down dinner with you. Or lunch with you. Or really anything with you."

My heart melts. "Then we're even, because I'm not about to turn down anything with you either."

She cups my cheek and gives me a smile. "You are a princess," she says, each word a diamond, and kisses my other cheek. I'm so comfortable with her that I don't even flinch like I usually do when someone touches me unexpectedly. This is what Olivia does to me, with one gentle touch, with one gentle word. I love her so much.

"Let's get lunch," I say as soon as I've regained the ability to speak, but my voice cracks with emotion.

Olivia kisses my cheek again. "Yeah." She takes my hand again, and we walk together to the deli across the street. Here, with Olivia, I feel so safe, so loved. I wish we could stay like this forever.

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