I've been suffering from writers block of late, but hopefully now I'm back for good! Hope you like this one. It's very much inspired by recent events! :D

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Snow

"The Eskimos had fifty-two names for snow because it was important to them: there ought to be as many for love." ~ Margaret Atwood

He was worried about her.

Not that, that was anything new. In the course of their partnership he'd often had cause to worry, been given cause to worry; about her, by her. But this, this was something else. Since her mother died, his antennae of concern had gone crazy.

She was just so… stoic. That was the word. Stoic. Brave. But yet she wasn't quite pulling it off. He didn't believe in the crazy little front she was putting up. She said she was fine, but she wasn't, not by a long shot.

He could see it right now, as she sat opposite him, her head buried in work that he doubted she was paying even an ounce of attention to. She wasn't there, wasn't functioning. Her eyes were too glazed, an indicator that she may have been there in body but certainly wasn't in spirit.

"The snow's looking bad." He remarked, just wanting her to respond. Wanting her to say something, anything. Needing a conversation with her that was about anything but work. But although she looked up, looked out of the window, she didn't speak. Instead the response to his comment came from the next desk along, from Munch.

"Its bad alright. Last time I saw snow like that was 1978. Started snowing in November and didn't stop til February."

Elliot smirked, amused, as ever, by Munch's deadpan delivery. But he was quickly distracted from his mirth by movement from the desk opposite his as his partner got to her feet and moved to the window, staring out of it and down onto the snowy street below. Suddenly, the atmosphere in the room altered dramatically, and although he had no real idea why, he knew he needed to be beside her.

He got to his feet too, and crossed the room to her side. "Liv?" He touched her back gently, "Are you ok?"

There was a beat. And then…

"I was 8."

He didn't need to do the math. It was fairly obvious.

She was talking about 1978.

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She was making porridge. She didn't much like porridge but she knew it was a good breakfast for cold days. And today was a real cold day. That was partly cos it was snowing but the fact that they had no heating didn't help. Olivia didn't know why they had no heating, except for the fact that when it had gone off the two days previously her mom had sworn a lot and gone through the big pile of letters that sat unopened in the letter rack. Still, it didn't matter, she just put 3 jumpers on over her pyjamas and then she'd been warm enough.

While the porridge was cooking she went into the den to look out of the window. The snow seemed even worse than ever and she wondered if school might be cancelled like the other kids in the class had been hoping yesterday. Olivia didn't understand why they were so keen to stay home. She liked school. She got to learn neat stuff and her teacher was real nice.

Still, the snow was big so she went into the kitchen and put the radio on like her teacher said and tuned it from her mom's classical radio station to the local one. There was just music to begin with and then the DJ started listing schools in the district that were closed with Olivia's being right at the top of the list

She felt her heart sink. She didn't want to stay home on her own.

Then he said another name. Her mom's university. All lectures cancelled.

Suddenly she felt a bit better. She turned the porridge down and went to her mom's room and knocked on the door.

"Yeah?"

She opened the door and found her mom sat at her dressing table putting her make up on. She looked ok, probably cos of the make up but Olivia knew it was a hangover day. Cos of the cocktail dress on the bedroom floor and the redness in her mom's eyes and the way her hand shook as she tried to do her mascara.

"I have a snow day." she told her mom, "You too."

She saw her mom grimace. That figured. Her mom didn't like spending any more time with her than she had to. And she let it show. And yet Olivia couldn't help asking… even though she knew it was stupid and pointless…

"Can we go to the park? Make a snowman together?"

"No." Her mom shook her head, as she reached to take off her earrings, and not surprising Olivia in the slightest, "Mom's sick. She's going back to bed. You need to look after yourself.

Another 8 year old might have cried like a baby. Or had a tantrum. Or sulked.

Not Olivia. She hadn't expected anything less.

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She did feel guilty but not because of refusal so much - after all she was sick, that was true enough. But because of the sad downtrodden way in which her daughter accepted said refusal. The sad smile. The "ok mom". Like she'd known it was coming all along.

It was pathetic. Sad. And all her doing.

The thing that got to Serena the most was that her daughter reminded her of a battered wife. No matter what she said or did to her she always came back for more.

All the same, in spite of the guilt, there was no way she was going to build a snowman. She had the hangover from hell. If she didn't have to go into work, she was headed back to bed.

She reached for a facial wipe, intent on taking off her make up off so she could collapse again and as she did so the snowy day out of the window caught her eye. She got to her feet and moved to it, looking out at the picture perfect snow scene in front of her.

And suddenly she was back in the past.

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"Dad! Mom! Dad! Mom!" She dashed into her parents bedroom and threw herself onto the bed, landing between the two of them and waking them instantly.

"Serena?" her mother looked at her through sleepy eyes, "What are you doing here? Its still dark outside."

"IT'S SNOWY OUTSIDE!"

"That's nice dear." Her mother remarked before closing her eyes again, much to Serena's utter disgust. She reached out and shook her awake again, "Mom! Its huge snow! We won't be going to school today, I know it! Plllllllllleeeeeeeeeeease can we go and build a snowman?"

Her mother looked at the clock on her bedside table, "Serena's it's 5.45am. Go back to bed. If your assumption about school is correct you've got all day to make a snowman."

Serena felt like she was about to burst. She'd been watching the snow for hours through the window and she was desperate to get outside and make a snowman. She couldn't bear the thought of waiting a moment longer. It just wasn't fair to make her wait. She was just about to start another round of protests when at her side her father opened his eyes and smiled at her.

"I think 5.45am is a perfect time to make a snowman. Go and put some warm clothes on." he paused, looking her up and down and taking in the snow clothes, mittens and scarf she was already wearing and then corrected himself, "Well, ok then, give me 5 minutes to put some warm clothes on then we'll go out into the garden and make the biggest snowman this town has ever seen. Does that sound good to you princess?"

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Serena wiped a tear from her eye, and then, hangover aside stripped out of her work clothes, pulling on sweat pants and several layers of sweaters. Her head was banging, and she felt like bursting into tears, suddenly mourning the loss of her relationship with her father. Ok, so he'd failed her, failed her big time since the rape. He'd not support her right to bring Olivia into the world. But when she was a kid he'd been the best dad in the world. The best parent in the world.

The kind of parent she should be.

She took her ski jacket from the wardrobe and headed into the kitchen where her daughter was sat at the breakfast bar eating a bowl of lumpy looking porridge. She grabbed two Tylenol from the cupboard and washed them down with a mug of coffee before turning to Olivia who hadn't so much as looked at her since she'd entered the kitchen.

"Do we have any carrots?"

Olivia shook her head, "Today's grocery shopping day. Do you think Rosa will be able to get in?"

Serena shrugged, "I don't know. Shame about the carrots though."

Her daughter looked at her curiously, "What do we need carrots for?"

She smiled, ignoring the pains that stabbed away inside her head as she did so, "Well, I was thinking we might make a snow person. In fact, I thought we might make Eleanor Roosevelt out of snow. But even Snowy First Ladies need a nose…"

The curious look turned into one of pure delight. A massive beam. A smile that was every bit the reward she needed for doing the right thing and not heading back to bed.

"We're going to make an snow Eleanor Roosevelt?"

"Yup." she took the porridge bowl from in front of her daughter, "We'll stop off for pancakes for breakfast, go to the store and get a carrot then build her in Central Park. Does that sound good to you?"

Olivia's smile widened, "That sounds perfect mom! It really does!"

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He watched as her shoulders started to shake and as he reached for her to turn her to face him he saw the tears that he'd waited so long to see. He pulled her to him, and she rested her head on his chest, crying onto his shirt as he stroked her hair and tried to comfort her.

Munch and Fin, watching the scene unfold and recognising its importance, left the room, giving them the space they needed, and when she eventually stopped crying and looked up at him through still teary eyes, he smiled at her reassuringly.

"Tell me what you need Liv. Tell me what you need me to do."

She smiled back weakly, and her arms, which had snuck around his waist as she'd cried suddenly tightened themselves around him. She looked up him, took a deep breath and then finally she spoke.

"Elliot? Can we go and build a snowman?"

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