Part Two

It wasn't too much longer before Elliot's steady pace stopped suddenly, letting Olivia, who was staring at her feet to make sure they were still there since she hadn't been able to feel them in a good long time, bump into him.

She looked up, curious as to the deep concentration on his face. "What?"

"Am I hallucinating?" Because he appeared to be perfectly serious, she looked around and saw nothing of any interest.

"Why do you think you're hallucinating?" If he saw something nice, she kind of wished she was hallucinating with him.

"That looks like a motel up there." He pointed up a steep hill.

Her gaze followed his hand, squinting at the run down building. "It looks like it might have been a motel. Not sure if it's still one."

He grinned. "It has a vacancy sign." He tugged on her hand, the one she'd entirely forgotten he was still holding, and started up the incline.

Talk about adding insult to injury. Her water- and ice-logged feet were hurting so badly and she was freezing and had been walking for hours and the only hope she had to not die on the spot was to climb a fucking mountain in her favorite damn pants and pointy-toed shoes that were fine for sprinting in short bursts and even passable for hiking in the snow but were absolutely, undeniably not intended for mountain climbing.

To be fair, it wasn't actually a mountain. But it might as well have been for all the work they put into getting to the top.

When they finally got to the front door, they couldn't believe their luck. Not only was it a motel and still running, but there was even someone sitting at the front desk.

Knowing she looked just as insane as Elliot, with snow and ice caked on his clothes and a bright red nose and cheeks, Olivia hung back, atypically cowering slightly behind Elliot as he approached the counter. Of course, it was just as likely that the reason she hung back was due entirely to the way the unshaven, flannel-clad employee smiled at her, displaying a mouth only half full of teeth, and then licked his lips.

Olivia's hands fisted around Elliot's coat, not sure if she was looking for protection or if she was trying to restrain him from decking the man. Only because decking him would undoubtedly result in them having to keep walking in the cold.

Elliot wasn't at all pleased with the guy's stare, and was all too happy to play alpha-male, shifting completely in front of Olivia to block her from view. "We'll take two rooms, please."

The guy tried to see around Elliot, but couldn't due to the fact that he was quite a few inches shorter. "Two rooms? That'll be one-fifty."

She could feel the muscles tensing through all the layers of his clothing and she knew he was going to explode before he even opened his mouth.

"A hundred and fifty dollars?" He scoffed. "Are you fucking kidding?"

The guy smiled the sort of smile that assured Olivia that his brother or cousin or something was the sheriff and would be perfectly happy to put them in lock-up for the night and forget to let them go in the morning. Olivia stood up on her toes, trying to whisper in Elliot's ear from behind.

"Just pay it, El."

Muttering something she was glad she didn't understand, Elliot reached under his coat, pulling out his wallet and slapping a credit card down on the counter.

The guy chuckled. "Cash only."

Elliot was furious and it showed in his tight voice. "We don't have that much cash on us."

"Whadaya got?"

Groaning, Elliot flipped opened his wallet again, pulling out all the cash. Then he turned to Olivia. "How much do you have?"

She handed over the two bills she had on her, which Elliot combined with his and put on the counter.

"We've got fifty-six bucks and I seriously doubt you're going to get a better offer."

In the hopes that she might merit more pity than an unhappy Elliot, she dared step slightly to the side and smiled at the toothless wonder.

He grinned back, making her kind of nauseous. "Just cause you're pretty, babe, I think I can give you something." Without even looking, he grabbed a key off the desk and slapped it down on the counter. "Check out is eight am."

Fuck eight. Olivia had every intention of bailing as soon as the sun came up, if only so she could get home and get a shower that much sooner.

But Elliot wasn't done. "There's only one key."

The guy grinned. "There's only one bed."

She grabbed Elliot's arm again, trying to tell him silently to drop it.

But he didn't hear her. "Come on, you must have a room with two beds. The whole fucking place is empty!"

The guy snickered and took another look at Olivia before his attention turned back to the tiny TV on the counter. "Like you mind."

Olivia pulled a growling Elliot along with her, unwilling to stand there in soaking wet clothes while he murdered the man.

Elliot stripped immediately upon entering the room. Olivia stood there dumbfounded, realizing the man either really, really trusted her or didn't have a single smidgeon of modesty in his body.

Not that she could blame him for the latter. His body was so full of muscle there probably wasn't any room for modesty.

He was down to his t-shirt and boxers by the time he got to the heater located against the far wall. He turned the knob all the way clockwise and was rewarded with the sound of a fan coming on loudly. Proud of his handiwork, or perhaps his ability to leave his partner staring at him with her mouth hanging open, he turned back with a smile.

"Should warm up quick enough."

He paid no attention to her or the fact that she remained in her icicle covered clothing as he retraced his steps, picking up and then hanging his clothes on the hooks nailed into the wall by the door.

She managed a weak smile when she noticed he was looking. "I think I'm going to take a shower."

He nodded. "It'll probably be warm by the time you come out."

Thirty seconds in his presence minus his clothes and she was pretty sure she was melting. But out of a sense of embarrassment that she'd so obviously noticed him and he'd so obviously not noticed her so obviously noticing him, she prodded herself to move. She put her coat on the hook next to his, stretching her scarf over the whole rack to dry and stuffing her hat and gloves on the next hook.

Then she took her fully dressed self into the bathroom to hide.

She couldn't possibly spend the night in the same room, let alone the same bed, as that man without any clothes on.

But once she was no longer looking at him, she realized her teeth were still chattering and so her body started moving. She turned the shower controls on as hot as she could stand, stripped out of her soaked clothes and left them in a messy heap as she stepped under the scalding water. It felt really good for about a minute, at which point her circulation had returned and her skin started to hurt. She flipped the water a bit to the cooler side, and stood under the spray until her body began to feel human again.

She realized the dilemma as soon as she wrapped herself in the threadbare towel. Her panties were dry, as was her shirt. Unfortunately, her pants were still soaked, even more by the puddle of water that had leaked out of the crappy shower curtain. And her shirt came to her waist and no further.

Elliot might not have an ounce of modesty in his body, but she did. And she was not going out there to sleep in a bed with him while he wore only his boxers and she wore a pair of bikini panties and a snug-fitting knit top that by all rights wasn't long enough to wear to work in the first place.

Gripping the towel with vise-like hands, she pulled open the bathroom door a crack, wincing at the rush of cold air dispelling the warmth of the steam.

"El?"

"I'm working on it."

She shook her head and decided against asking. "Can I borrow your shirt?"

That got his attention away from whatever he'd been doing. Suddenly he was in front of her, staring pointedly at her eyes without blinking in such a way that revealed he had, in fact, noticed her attire, or lack thereof. "What?"

She swallowed hard and tried to think of a reason why the situation wasn't funny. Too bad they hadn't thought about stripping down to their skivvies while they were out in the snow. They wouldn't have had to waste money on a motel with the heat they could generate.

She nodded toward her pile of wet clothes on the floor. "I don't have anything I can sleep in. Can I borrow your shirt?"

He swallowed hard and she wanted to gloat. Served him right for stripping in front of her. But instead of reaching for his dress shirt, the one she'd meant, the one that might cover her to her mid-thigh, his hands moved quickly, grabbing the hem of his t-shirt and pulling it over his head.

And once again, she was speechless, standing a few inches away from the most unfuckingbelievably beautiful man she'd ever seen separated by a thin towel and a pair of boxer briefs. Someone somewhere was having a good laugh at her.

Rather than correct him, which she feared might embarrass him, she forced a tiny smile, snagged the shirt from him hands, and closed the door between them.

She wondered if he'd notice if she never came out of the bathroom. She could claim that she was sick, that their lunch had disagreed with her, and perhaps he would stay away.

But she would feel guilty, keeping him from taking the same hot shower she had.

So she pulled the shirt over his head, refusing to acknowledge how fucking wonderful it smelled, and looked at herself in the mirror. Oh, yeah. Trouble. One of them was in a shitload of trouble and, for the moment at least, she suspected it was him.

Because the shirt, though painfully oversized, hung down to just shy of her crotch. Good luck trying not to look, Stabler, she thought. Even if she stood completely still, there was still a flash of royal blue between her thighs, the bright color only highlighted by the white of the shirt. She giggled as she imagined going through the same motions as he had of hanging up her clothes on the hooks, knowing that lifting her arms would display more.

Poor Elliot.

He'd probably wind up taking a cold shower.

"You ok in there?"

"Yeah, just soaking up the steam." She couldn't stall any longer or risk him finding out she was uncomfortable.

"Share the wealth, would you?"

She picked up her clothes and opened the door, stepping into the room that was anything but warm. "It's freezing in here."

"I think it's working now." He shrugged and she looked over at the heater, which he'd taken apart while she was showering. "At least it's not blowing ice cold air, which is a vast improvement."

Of course the asshole had given them the room with the broken heater. Because it was their lucky fucking day.

"Hot water works." She started arranging her clothes on the hooks, knowing there was no chance any of it would dry unless the heater actually started working. She shivered at the thought of putting on cold, wet clothes in the morning. "I'll call Cragen."

"Already did. He said he'd send the state police out in the morning with a tow truck to get the car and if it's working, they'll bring it here. Otherwise, they'll give us a – a – a - um."

As she was working, she dropped one of her socks, not even thinking about it when she bent down to get it.

But she realized what she'd done when her partner started stuttering. He'd certainly gotten more than a flash of her bikinis when she bent over at the waist.

Oops.

It was kind of nice to hear him responding in some manner to her.

Pretending she didn't understand, she turned to look at him. "They give us what, El? Spit it out."

His voice came out low and husky and her plan to tease him only backfired when she heard it. "They'll give us a ride to a car rental place." It had to be the sexiest fucking sentence ever uttered.

Shivering from more than the cold, she nodded mutely and walked over to the bed. She knew better than to expect much from the blankets, but she was hoping they'd help make up the difference between the warm bathroom and the cold bedroom. But as she grabbed them to pull them back, she heard Elliot's voice from where, apparently, he was still watching her.

"Can you lay on the other side?"

Baffled by his words, she looked at him with the thin cover still in her hands. "Why?" They weren't going to be there long enough for him to get picky of which side of the bed to sleep on. Of course, she remembered, he'd been married and maybe his side of the bed was important to his emotional well-being.

Not that she'd appreciate it much if he were to think of Kathy while he was in bed with her in her bikinis.

He motioned at the door and then at the bed. "Just in case your friend wants to try something, I intend to be between you and the door."

She rolled her eyes. Like those two feet would make a bit of difference if someone busted through the door on them. "Whatever."