A/N: This is fluffy, no real plot, no smut either this time.

Set during Season 1.

I never get the chance just to tell you
how out of sight you are.

You've got a special gift.
Do you see how you're changing the world
just by hanging around?

(You've Got a Gift – Of Montreal)

"Don't" she warns when he strolls into the one-six, her hand up before his mouth even opens, the phone cradled against her neck, quieting whatever he was going to say.

If she wasn't so irritatingly adorable, he'd be annoyed but he smirks, shrugs and puts the coffee on her desk, "There's a special donut too" he whispers.

"Fuck off" she mutters under her breath and then quickly straightens, "No, not you, yeah, whatcha got for us?" she asks scribbling on the pad of paper and then slamming the receiver down before shooting him a look, "You gonna gawk all day, or you coming with?"

He notes she grabs the coffee and donut off her desk before walking by him in a huff, his eyes trailing the way her dress pants hug her ass and shakes his head as he follows her out of the office.

As he climbs in the passenger seat, she is angrily biting her donut and glaring. They haven't been partners long but he can detect almost every mannerism and this is her, "Don't fuck with me right now" one that makes him want to taunt her…or make her shut up.

That's a thought he throws right back into the back of his head because, that's not allowed with them, and hands off…except when she's sitting at her desk and her fingers idly slide over his as they look across at the screen. He can't say it's anything but them having a connection that wouldn't make sense to anyone on the outside because no one can understand what your partner means…or how they mean more than that.

There is a part of him that wants to taunt her but he saves it because she's in a foul mood and it would be no fun if he actually pisses her off. They drive in silence, taking an hour to get across the city to the office building. When he pulls over, she sighs, turns to him, "It's just a fucking birthday, the day I was dragged from my mother, kicking and screaming, nothing to celebrate or to make special" she spits out, then climbs out of the car and takes three steps and waits for him to follow.

She's wrong.

They don't make small talk, walking into the building and meeting up with their informant. It's a long couple of hours in what should have been an easy day but he actually gives them something and it spirals into surveillance and before they know it, its mid-afternoon and they're both cranky and hungry.

"You want something to eat" he asks, finally, the knots in his neck growing knots and his stomach beginning to make noises that are not human.

Instead of an affirmative, she grunts and he rolls his eyes. No one has ever been able to piss him off the way she can, in two seconds…but someone's never made him smile like she has, in two seconds, and maybe that's what works for them…she's his sanity and his psychosis.

He wanders into a bakery a half of block down, the fresh baked bread leading the way, and he grabs a couple subs, an Italian, no pepperoncini, pickles on the side for her, roast beef for him and couple generic for the guys back at the place.

When he sees it, he tells himself not to buy it and it's not until he's at the register that he flicks his head in the direction and has them wrap it up. She's probably going to give him shit about it, but it's in the pink box before he can change his mind and he's slipping it on the passenger seat before sneaking back into the building.

oOo

They trade half of their sandwiches over paperwork, and he's standing behind her. She wears something light, he's not sure if its perfume or her shampoo but he always gets heady when it's invading his senses like this, while she points to something on the sheet and he reminds himself that he has to focus. Clarity and distraction because when she moves to take a call, he sees the answer they were looking for and looks to her.

Her eyes roll, and he knows she's talking to the latest man she's dating. Some punk who's not worth her time, but that's not his business…or so she tells him, at least twice on a weekly basis. She deserves someone better, who calls when he should, takes her out on dates, holds her all night.

"I'm busy working, yeah I know what day it is, no I don't really care, its just another goddamn day, if everyone doesn't stop"

A chuckle escapes his throat and she scowls at him.

"Bye" she snaps and slams her flip phone closed, and then she's looking at him again, "WHAT?"

"Not a damn thing" he says with his hands up and his eyebrows raised, "Not a damn thing"

OoO

Its 8pm before they're done and she's rolling her neck and he wants to put his hands over her shoulders and rub slowly, easing her tension…but he knows that's improper and wouldn't look good, especially with all the suits milling around.

"You should get home" she tells him, exhaustion on her face, "Kath and the kids"

A quick shake of his head, "I ordered pizza, so shut up and fill out your damn paperwork"

That gets a little smile from the corner of her lips, "Jackass"

OoO

11:45 pm and they're finally getting out to the car. Both jackets are slung over arms and they look like they've been through the rinse and tumble cycle twice, "We're going to nail him to the wall with this" he tells her over the sedans roof.

He forgets about the little pink box until she opens the door, "What the hell" she exclaims opening it, "You didn't"

Rubbing his chin he slides in, "Happy Birthday Liv" he whispers softly as she shakes her head at the mini tiramisu in the box.

"You're an asshole" she tells him but it's softer and she's looking away across the hazy street before she's turning back to him, "I'm sorry I've"

That garners a shoulder shrug, "I get it, now look in the glove box"

Her eyebrows furrow but she opens the glove box and finds a little wrapped gift. He wanted to get her more but what do you get your female partner, who you may, or may not, have some sort of, unresolved feelings for…because nothing seemed like enough, and everything seemed like too much.

Nimble fingers slide the packaging open and she gasps, looking at him, "You?" she murmurs, her fingers coming to her lips.

It was something she had mentioned on a case, some little pendant she had fingered in a jewelry store, a lotus blossom hanging from a silver strand, "I've always loved lotuses, growing so beautiful from the ugliest places" she had said, a toss away comment.

Except it hadn't been because it had reminded him of her: strong, resilient, beautiful, driving up through the ugliness and adversity to blossom into something that most people never got to see this close.

"El" he can finish the comment in his head, "This is too much" she states as soon as he repeats it for her without the words.

A smirk comes to his lips but he starts the car, "Happy Birthday Liv"

Biting her lip, she fights back the emotion that bubbles in her throat, looking down once more, wondering if he knows this is the happiest one she's had in as long as she can remember.