Part Twenty-Two
True to his word, he was back before too long. The creepy, skin-crawling silence was really starting to get to her when she heard the sound of an engine. She wanted to be happy that he was back, to relax in knowing that he wasn't really going to abandon her, but the sounds of slamming doors and crunching snow and finally the cabin door opening didn't calm her a bit. She didn't want to give Elliot the satisfaction of witnessing her fear of being without him. But she didn't want to be lying there, feigning having no cares in the world if some freak was about to bust through the door.
"Liv?"
She wanted to hug him. She actually thought about it. Forget looking helpless and pathetic, she was just glad that it really was him. And then she remembered the handcuffs that prevented her from doing such. So she sat up and glared at the closed door instead.
He poked his head through it. "See, I came back."
"Asshole." She turned away, wishing she had the freedom to cross her arms to help drive home the point that she wasn't speaking to him.
"There's already another couple of inches out there. If this shit keeps up, we'll be here for the duration." He approached slowly, like he was afraid she was going to attack him, finally unhooking the handcuff from her arm, leaving it to dangle from the bed.
She rubbed her wrist, more for effect than actual discomfort. "Great, just what I always wanted. To be snowed in with you for the rest of time." She stood up, fully prepared to stomp off, unexpectedly stilled by his hands on her waist.
He pulled her back against him, leaning over until his mouth was against her ear. "Now, come on, you didn't seem that upset by the notion before I left."
She shoved her elbow back, nailing him in the ribs the way she'd done previously. He was her partner; she knew his weaknesses as well as he knew hers. "That was before you left me handcuffed to the bed while you went out shopping." Feeling, and ignoring, the hope that he would pull her back into his arms, she returned to her initial plan of stomping into the other room. "Please tell me you bought something decent."
He followed her to the kitchen. "What, are you going to cook for me?"
Poking through the bags, she found the candy bars she knew he'd bought just for her and ripped into one of them. With chocolate in her mouth, she felt better, slowly raking her eyes over his body. "Oh, El, you've got to prove yourself worth it before I cook for you." As she walked past him, she let her body brush past his, leaving him open-mouthed and dumbfounded. Almost as dumbfounded as she was. She didn't know what had gotten into her. She wasn't sure he wasn't her fucking stalker and he'd specifically warned her against teasing him.
With a shiver, she realized part of her wanted to see him lose control. Not because she wanted him to hurt her. Not because she wanted him to prove that he could lose his temper with her. But because she wanted him. Still. No matter what.
And fuck if he wasn't playing keep away.
She sat down on the couch, wondering how the fuck she was going to survive the experience.
"I bought you some books." Elliot's voice was muffled, and when she turned to look, she saw that he was putting away the groceries. "Figured you'd get bored with no one but me around to talk to."
For a brief, insanity inspired moment, she nearly told him how very not bored they could be together. But her eyes fell on the red line around her wrist, a reminder they weren't there for a romantic weekend, and she scowled. "Great. Thanks." She wasn't that big of a reader, but since the cabin appeared to be electronic diversion free, books were probably her best bet.
"I left them on the couch."
With his permission, she dumped out the bag, discovering that Elliot Stabler's definition of book was, in fact, a magazine. She didn't know if it was a reflection on what he thought of her intelligence or an undesirable peek into his own idea of reading, but she was dismayed as she pawed through a pile of magazines that, while undoubtedly costing him as much as the food had, didn't actually include one that she usually read. Usually, of course, being the once or maybe twice a month that she picked one up that she rarely ever got around to reading. Underneath those were three paperbacks, which she was so happy to discover that she almost squealed. Except two of them were adorned with swirly letters and obnoxiously bright flowers, quite obviously romance novels. She glared at the back of Elliot's head and thought about throwing them at him. Instead, she decided to make do with the third one, which he'd likely intended for himself, a Tom Clancy novel, the likes of which had probably been made into a movie that she'd already seen at some point.
If he cared that she'd snagged his novel, he didn't show it. He sat on the far side of the couch, shoving the stack of magazines to the floor after pulling out one she hadn't noticed, the only one featuring a car on the cover rather than home decorating ideas or smiling women with their kids.
The day passed quietly into the evening, the bitter gray sky darkening quickly as snow continued to accumulate. The idea that she was stranded, even if Elliot wanted to take her home, bothered her, but more because the snow made her feel claustrophobic rather than fearing what Elliot might do.
She'd made it about halfway through the book before she'd tossed it aside, deciding that home decorating tips might be nice to have someday. Elliot snagged the book from her as soon as she'd dropped it and hadn't looked up since. Although he showed no signs of boredom whatsoever, Olivia was starting to go crazy. It was too quiet and there was no TV or radio to put on to drown out the fucking nature sounds that made her wonder if it was possible to get poison ivy in the snow.
"El?"
"Hmm?" He didn't look up from his book and she really resented that he was just as easily enthralled with a book as he had been with her. Some stalker he was.
"How will you know when it's ok to go home?" Because, if it was up to her, she was going to start lobbying that there was no time like the present.
He looked at her, the discarded pile of magazines, and then back at her. "You're bored, aren't you?"
She was irritated with him for causing the situation, but she didn't feel like starting a fight with him. While it was certainly the fastest way to alleviate the boredom, there was something about the quiet, almost comfortable domesticity that she was loathe to destroy with a screaming match. And she wasn't really in the mood for spending a few hours handcuffed to the bed, which was apparently Elliot's favorite way to stop her from arguing.
She ignored his jab, pretending like she really wanted to go back to the top magazine, flipping it open to a random page and reading a list of recommended reading for children of various ages. A few minutes after he'd gone back to his book, she interrupted again. "You're not really planning on living out the rest of our lives here, are you?" Inherent in the question, she hoped, was the idea that she didn't particularly want him to leave her up there alone to live out the rest of her days without him either.
He turned the edge of a page down and set the book to the side. "Feel like dinner? I'm hungry." He walked into the kitchen and began pulling things out of the cabinets.
Intrigued by his refusal to answer, she moved with him, parking herself on one of the bar stools lining the counter. "El? Ignoring me won't make me stop asking." She leaned to the side, catching his eyes for a moment. "I'm fairly certain you know that about me."
He sighed and began putting what appeared to be random ingredients in a bowl. "Yeah, I know."
"So?"
"So when Cragen figures out that I'm not the one after you, he'll know where we are." He was so intently focused on what he was doing that Olivia knew he wasn't paying any attention to it.
"And what if Cragen comes to the conclusion, the accurate conclusion I might point out, that you're the one who kidnapped me?"
Elliot shrugged, crossing his arms and turning to face her. "Your detail didn't see me grab you."
"Right, but when I don't show up for work and your lawyer can't find you, someone's going to realize we're both missing and then it'll be a short leap to the kidnapping conclusion." She wondered how, since he had apparently planned particular, small pieces so well, he'd managed to miss the big ones.
"Whoever's stalking you doesn't know you're gone." He turned back the food, giving away that he was well aware of the lack of planning. "I'm hoping he'll do something stupid that gives him away which will prompt everyone to realize I'm not the person they needed to be worried about."
She decided not to press him. It wasn't worth it. If he really was the one who'd been threatening her, making him mad wouldn't help. If he really was innocent, making him mad wouldn't help then either. "Say they do find the guy and clear you, I still don't see how you're going to know."
"Cragen and I discussed bringing you up here a long time ago to keep you safe." He didn't have to say the name. It wasn't a case they talked about or even alluded to. She knew exactly who he was talking about anyway. "You have to remember it was a long time ago and we didn't know you that well. He was after you and we weren't sure we were going to be able to keep you safe. So Cragen told me about this place, gave me the directions and everything, said if it came down to it, I should get you out of the city."
She shivered thinking about it. Richard White had been one of those cases that really and truly gotten to her. And although he was her partner at the time, she'd barely known Elliot from Adam. "You would have done that? Just left your family behind and brought me up here?"
A blush colored his cheeks as he shrugged, trying to brush off the heroic way she'd made it sound. "I figured you were worth saving." He smiled at her. "It was just a hunch. I haven't made up my mind yet."
She gave him the laugh he wanted, trying to hide the way his words had stirred up her emotions and confusion once again. "Ok, well, call me when dinner's ready."
A scant ten minutes later, Elliot was calling her, divvying up the steaming contents of the bowl he'd pulled from the microwave. He set a plate in front of her. "Dig in."
She poked at the unidentifiable substance on her plate. "What is it?"
"Just eat it." He was talking around a mouthful of it himself, and she'd just seen him scooping both of their portions from the same source.
Deciding it wasn't poisoned, she took a small bite. "Hey, that's pretty good." She still couldn't identify it, but she stuck an even bigger forkful into her mouth. "What is it?"
He grinned. "Chicken surprise. My brothers and I used to make it all the time."
She poked at the lump on the plate again, wondering if she was going to regret having eaten even the little bit she had. "What's the surprise?"
With another smile, he left the kitchen, carrying his plate into the living room and settling on the couch with it.
"El?" She stabbed it with the fork and decided oatmeal might make a better dinner choice. "Seriously, El, what's the surprise?"
She could hear the smile in his voice, the voice that had snuck up behind her and answered right into her ear. "That's not chicken."
With a startled squeak, she pushed the plate away from her. She accidentally shoved too hard, sending the plate toppling over the far side of the counter, spilling the non-chicken all over the kitchen. As she made her way over to clean it up, she heard Elliot's laughter from the other room.
After she'd cleaned up the mess her flying chicken surprise made, after she'd found the plastic wrapper in the trash clearly identifying the mystery meat, Elliot had mercy on her. He explained, while dumping half of his dinner on another plate for her, that it was simply an old, half-assed casserole that his mother had concocted with chicken, noodles, and vegetables, that he and his brothers had never quite gotten right. With the substance identified, she had no problem finishing it off. It was good, she had to begrudgingly admit when he caught her wiping the plate clean with her fingers. Knowing the only family recipe she had to share was her mom's less-than-appetizing chicken soup in which she typically substituted stale bread for noodles, vodka for water, and left out the chicken altogether, Olivia thought it would be best to volunteer to wash the dishes. God forbid the man wanted her to help with the cooking.
When the dishes were drying on the rack, she returned to the living room to find Elliot re-lacing his boots. He paused to smile at her. "Feel like taking a walk?"
Walks were something she normally enjoyed, but she wasn't sure she wanted to try her hand in the woods again. Of course, the idea of needing to snuggle by the fire to warm up afterwards was a powerful draw. "Maybe a short one."
"I figured you were getting stir crazy." He zipped up his coat. "Hurry up. And dress warm."
Grabbing her bag, she stepped into the bedroom and pulled a couple extra layers on. Rather than chance upsetting him, she stepped into her boots and shuffled out to the other room to tie them. She smiled at him, trying to find enough give in her clothes to be able to reach her boots.
He laughed, leaning on the door, watching as she hugged and puffed to tie them. "Maybe you'd better lay off the chocolate bars, Liv."
She would have thrown something at him, but she didn't want to give up the hard-earned contact with her boot laces. "Shut the fuck up." It came out far more winded than angry, yet she assumed it got the point across. Finally, she stood up, pulling her hat and gloves on, grumbling at him. "If you'd told me what I was in for I could have brought the right stuff."
He pulled the door shut behind her, taking her hand to help her walk in the deep snow. "That's funny, I didn't get the impression you would have listened if I'd told you where we were heading. You were being rather bitchy at the time."
Every instinct told her to yank her hand out of Elliot's grasp and stalk off, making him well aware he owed her an apology. But she wasn't exactly able to march off anywhere with the deep snow and really, she didn't necessarily want to break the contact that he'd seemed to have forgotten.
They walked along the road, the snow there not quite as deep. It felt good, despite the occasional blast of cold wind against her face, because she felt like she'd been cooped up in the cabin for forever. She was used to being outside, although the starry sky and tall trees were unfamiliar. And when she happened to be in new surroundings, especially surroundings that could overwhelm her like being smack dab in the middle of nowhere, she was usually at Elliot's side.
Granted, the hand holding was a bit of a novelty, but not an upsetting one.
She had to admit, personal preference for neon lights aside, the area was picturesque, even to her. The road they were walking on was paved with gravel and rarely travelled. The snow covered trees and undisturbed drifts made for some awe-inspiring scenery. Occasionally, they'd pass some animal tracks. They amazed her because, except for her foray to Oregon, most of the animals she'd seen in her life were either at the end of a leash or in a zoo.
There was one set that was so big she had to ask. "What could have left prints that big?"
Elliot stared at her for a moment. "What do I look like, Ranger Rick?"
"It was your brilliant idea to come up here. I made the mistake of thinking you might know something about what's hanging out here with us." Just to annoy him, she pulled her hand away.
He leaned over, examining the prints before he smiled at her. "I think it was a bear."
Her eyes widened. "A bear?" Come to think of it, she supposed she preferred bears locked up in a zoo, eco-terrorists be damned. She looked around, checking over her shoulders with a decidedly paranoid edge. "Like a big huge man-eating bear?"
He laughed outright. "Liv, I was kidding. I don't have a fucking clue. It was probably a deer or something."
She grabbed his arm, latching onto it like he might actually be able to help her if a bear was after her. "Like a bear with giant teeth and claws?"
Still laughing, Elliot put his arm around her. "Do you want to go back?"
"Yes." She felt silly, but she couldn't help checking around them as they started retracing their steps.
Shaking his head, Elliot found no end of amusement in her fear. "Afraid of a little baby bear, I never thought I'd see the day."
She slugged him, knowing the blow had little impact through his coat. "I'm more afraid of the baby bear's mommy and I bet if you saw one, you'd be screaming like a little girl."
He grabbed her hand again, keeping up a steady pace back toward the cabin. "Yeah, you're probably right about that."
When the cabin came into view a few minutes later, she felt much better. "You know, I think I'd rather you be all chauvinistic and macho when I'm scared."
"I'll keep that in mind for the next time I kidnap you."
She pulled her hand back again. "You don't have to be that chauvinistic and macho." Although she was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt based on having done nothing to hurt her so far, she wasn't completely comfortable with the way he'd absconded with her, especially since she remained entirely dependent on him for everything, not just bear attacks.
As he opened the door for her, he smiled. "I bought hot chocolate does that earn me any brownie points?"
The idea brought a smile to her face as she peeled off her coat, still feeling the chill from being outside. "Depends, did you get-"
"Those little marshmallows you love? Of course I did." He dropped his coat behind him and walked into the kitchen.
With a smile, Olivia sat down in front of the fireplace, throwing a few extra pieces of wood into it and snuggling into the flannel blanket. "Good. Then you're forgiven. For the moment, at least."
Elliot joined her a few minutes later, offering her a steaming mug of hot cocoa, rapidly melting marshmallows decorating the top with milky swirls. Right there, in that moment, sitting shoulder to shoulder with her partner, sharing the blanket spread across their legs, enjoying the warmth of both the fire and the company, Olivia was almost able to forget just why they were there.
But Elliot nudged her shoulder, bringing her back to the present. "If I take a shower, are you going to run off?"
She really wanted to slug him for reminding her that they weren't there on vacation. Instead, she forced a smile. "Not as long as there are bears out there." Stretching her arms over her head, she stifled a yawn. "I think I might go to bed."
He nodded as he stood. "Yeah, says the one with the comfortable place to sleep."
She glanced at him, then at the couch he'd slept on the night before. It hadn't seemed that uncomfortable when she'd been sitting on it, but sitting and sleeping were two very different things. "You want me to sleep on the couch? I might fit better." She was a couple inches shorter than he was, it could very well be the difference.
"Nah, that's ok. Just in case that bastard followed us, I intend to be between him and you." He gathered some things from his bag before heading for the bathroom
"Hey, El?" She wasn't sure what she was doing. Her mouth seemed to be running off without her mind's consent again. "That's a giant bed in there, you know. Plenty of room, if you want."
He stopped dead in the doorway, slowly turning to look at her, staring at her like he thought she'd suggested they take hula lessons together. "You want me to sleep in the same bed as you?"
When he put it that way, it sounded quite unlike the polite gesture she had intended. And she didn't like the implication that she was making inappropriate suggestions. "No, I really don't care where you sleep. I was just being nice." She didn't wait for a response before she ducked into the bedroom and closed the door.
She was just being considerate, she was. And she could almost convince herself of that as she heard the sound of the shower start up. Son of a bitch. He could read her mind, she swore. He knew that she enjoyed snuggling. And while she was positive he enjoyed physical contact every bit as much as she did, he somehow always managed to put it back on her. Someday she was going to have to ask him to teach her that particular skill.