Disclaimer: SVU and all of its characters were created by and are the property of Dick Wolf. I make no profit with this story, which is my own original work.
The sound of Elliot's alarm going off caused Olivia to stir and open her eyes, only for her to shut them again just as quickly against the harsh morning light. Suddenly realizing she did not have to be awake at this early hour, she groaned her displeasure and burrowed even further under the covers, grateful that other than her breakfast with Owen, she had no obligation to be anywhere this morning. Elliot on the other hand, had his meeting, but his first priority was taking care of his partner.
"Sorry the alarm woke you, Liv. I wasn't thinking."
"Nonsense. You haven't been to a meeting in a while as it is, and while I know you don't need them daily now, it's good for you to keep up. I'll be fine."
Elliot considered the words for a moment before he realized that this wasn't Olivia's trademark response that she was fine, and that she was truly being genuine. Nevertheless, he insisted on leaving the room as quickly and as quietly as possible so she could hopefully get back to sleep. Just before stepping out, however, he made certain she would be okay if he stopped at the gym for a few hours after his meeting, not wanting to leave her on her own for too long.
"Do what you need to, El. I know you've missed your workouts. I'm going to get a little bit more sleep, and then I'll have Owen to keep me company."
Satisfied that Olivia was telling him the truth, and knowing she would only hate it and get even more annoyed with him if he pushed the issue, Elliot headed down the hall to the guest bath to get ready for the day. Just before he left, he stopped to look in on Olivia in the master bedroom, satisfied when he saw she was sleeping peacefully. Tossing his gym bag over his shoulder, Elliot made his way down the stairs and out the door to his vehicle, trying to decide if he had enough time to stop for a coffee on the way.
Having determined that he was actually running ahead of schedule instead of behind as he had first thought, Elliot made the stop for not only coffee, but a breakfast sandwich as well. Granted, the AA meeting he would be at did provide refreshments, but he could hardly justify eating a donut or other sweet pastry before showing up to the gym. Not to mention the fact that their coffee was a bitter brew that made the stuff from his days at SVU seem like a gourmet blend.
Not wanting to juggle his food while driving, Elliot accepted his meal from the takeout window, then pulled into a nearby parking space to quickly eat. He couldn't help but smile as he took his first bite, as the egg white and turkey sausage sandwich reminded him of something his partner would order for herself, and not one of his own go-to choices. But he needed to fuel his body somehow, and while dining on the run, his options were limited.
Eating quickly enough that he would still make it to his meeting with time to spare, but not rushing to the point that he would give himself indigestion, Elliot finished his simple breakfast and tossed the paper bag in the backseat of his vehicle to be disposed of later. Once he got to the church, he carried his coffee in with him, taking a seat in one of the folding chairs, and nodding at the other individuals who were starting to gather.
As always the meeting began on time, and after going through the general introductions, those who needed to were given the opportunity to speak. While he typically kept quiet unless something was truly weighing on him – no doubt a product of the way he was raised – today Elliot felt a need to share his story. Like previous times when he had spoken up in this venue, he was grateful for the anonymity this afforded him, but was still hesitant to share too much about Olivia. Not because he thought she would become the subject of gossip, but because he valued the trust she had placed in him. To speak about her in such an open manner in a forum such as this felt like a betrayal of that trust, and he couldn't bring himself to do it.
Thankfully, and older member of the group, someone who had many years of sobriety under their belt and sage wisdom often reminded Elliot of the advice Don Cragen would give, not only an excellent listener, but excellent at offering a different perspective. It was his reminder to Elliot yet again that taking care of himself didn't impede ability to look after Olivia – rather, it was essential. He also made the suggestion that rather than just relying on the meetings to get him through, that Elliot consider looking into finding a therapist of his own for additional support. Once upon a time, had someone told him that, he would have scoffed and rooted himself even further in denial. It wasn't that he was expressly against therapy. He had seen firsthand how beneficial it could be over his many years at SVU. It was just when it came to his own personal needs that Elliot struggled with opening up to strangers. Once again, that was rooted in having had to repress so much of his feelings growing up – it became a habit that was difficult to break.
But now, seeing how much Lydia was helping Liv, and even starting to attend therapy with his partner jointly, Elliot could view it with an entirely new lens. Maybe it would benefit him to have a professional of his own to talk to on a regular basis.
Eventually, the topic changed, and someone else began to talk. Elliot was only half paying attention, too focused on the advice that had been given to him. He was so distracted, that he hadn't even realized the meeting had drawn to a close until the Serenity Prayer had concluded and the people in the group were starting to help themselves to more coffee in the back of the room. Not wanting to be rude, but also in a hurry to get to the gym so he could return home to Olivia as soon as possible, Elliot said his goodbyes and made his exit.
Once he got back to his SUV, Elliot checked his phone, which had been on silent mode for the duration of his meeting. He debated over whether or not he should call to check in on Olivia, then after a glance at the time, realized that even if she were awake by now, she would likely be in the shower. Instead, he opted to text, stating that he was on his way to the gym, and if she should need anything to leave him a message and he'd pick it up later on his way back.
Making it to the gym in record time, Elliot grabbed his gym bag from the passenger seat. To save himself a few extra minutes, he had already dressed in the clothes he was planning on working out in when he had left earlier that morning – a pair of track pants and a tee shirt. After checking in at the front desk, he stashed his bag in a locker, taking with him the gloves he would need for lifting weights and his water bottle, which he planned to fill at the fountain.
Opting to get a brief burst of cardio in before starting his strength training, Elliot snagged one of the open treadmills and set it for a one mile jog at steady pace. He could finish that in about eight minutes, getting not only his heart rate up, but also warming up his muscles so there would be less chance of injury once he started in on the weights. Trying not to be distracted by his more troubled thoughts from the meeting he'd just left, Elliot popped in his earbuds, and tried to instead let some music pull his focus away and keep him centered on getting lost in his workout.
When the alarm went off for the second time, Olivia awoke with a much clearer head and in a much better mood. Not that she had been irritable or feeling poorly earlier, rather just unwilling to move from her comfortable bed. Sleep had been kind to her last night, a blessing in and of itself considering the tumultuous and emotional day she'd had yesterday. Part of her had been anticipating being inundated with night terrors. But whether the peaceful night could be attributed to her exorcism of inner demons from her sparring session with Elliot the afternoon before, or merely her partner's steady presence as he slept in his ever respectful position above the covers next to her, Olivia couldn't say for certain. What she did know was she only had a short time available to her to shower and get ready for the day before Owen would arrive with breakfast. Part of that was her own fault for having been too heavy handed with the snooze button, but the extra rest had been well worth it.
Checking her phone to make sure there weren't any missed calls or messages, Olivia gathered what she'd need for her shower and padded into the bathroom. Stripping off her clothes, she set the dial to her preferred temperature and stepped under the soothing spray of water. Knowing it would make her have to hurry through the rest of her morning routine with a bit more haste, Olivia made sure to enjoy every luxurious minute under the steady stream. This had always been her favorite part of the day – even before everything in her life had turned sideways. These precious moments of solitude to gather her thoughts and prepare for what the day held in store, even if there was no way to accurately predict the outcome of events, would forever be a habit she held dear.
Rinsing the last of the conditioner from her hair, Olivia turned off the water, and pushed back the curtain. Reaching for the towels she had placed nearby, she vigorously scrubbed her head until her chestnut tresses were no longer dripping wet. Carefully stepping from the tub onto the bath mat, Olivia hastily dried the rest of her body before wrapping the towel around her frame. After applying moisturizer and scar minimizing cream – yet another part of her routine that was becoming habit, not that she could say she was seeing any results, Olivia dressed in a pair of leggings and lightweight sweater tunic. Even though the temperatures were getting warmer with the approach of summer, the morning air still held a chill too it, a likely result of being so close to the water.
With plenty of time to spare, Olivia made it downstairs to the kitchen, and put a pot of coffee on to brew. During their brief exchange the day before, Owen had tried to put up a fuss and insisted on bringing everything for their shared breakfast, but Olivia had wanted to make some small contribution. They finally agreed that she would be in charge of making the coffee.
When the knock at the door came, Olivia wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but it certainly wasn't the two large bags that Owen was carrying with him. One was emblazoned with the name of a local bakery and cafe, the other a standard grocery tote, but Olivia couldn't help but feel mildly overwhelmed. Nonetheless, she greeted her friend warmly and invited him inside.
"Morning, Olivia. Try not to worry from what you see here, I promise I didn't bring as much as it looks like."
"If you say so."
Owen set the bags on the dining room table, then turned to face Olivia with a grin.
"Somehow I don't think you're exactly convinced. That's okay, I'm not going to take it personally. What I do need to know is, are you hungry now, or would you prefer to wait a little while before we eat?"
Olivia was touched by the gesture. While she had known that Owen was aware of her appetite issues, it was always nice to be remembered. Plus, it hadn't been that long since she had gotten out of bed, and her stomach hadn't quite gotten on board with the rest of her body in terms of waking up.
"So long as nothing will go to waste, I wouldn't mind waiting a little bit."
"Not a problem at all. Is it all right if I just pop something in your oven to keep warm?"
"Go right ahead. How about I pour you some coffee while you take care of that?"
"Now you're talking."
The two worked in the kitchen, and while Olivia noticed it wasn't quite the same seamless way she and Elliot shared the space, having Owen around for company was kind of nice, too.
"Are you okay with sitting in the living room? I figure something a little less formal than the dining table would be good."
"Whatever makes you comfortable, Olivia."
After asking Owen how he preferred his coffee, Olivia carried two steaming mugs into the other room, knowing he would join her shortly. If she were being honest with herself, she'd admit that her curiosity was getting the better of her, but she was trying not to overthink too much about just what her friend was doing in the kitchen.
A few minutes later, Owen was asking if it was all right to sit beside her. Even though Olivia had already placed the second mug near hers on the coffee table, she appreciated the consideration for her personal space. Gesturing to the cushions next to her, she indicated that Owen should make himself comfortable.
"How have you been, Olivia?"
Well. If that wasn't a loaded question if ever there was one. But Olivia understood that Owen meant well, and he also understood more about her struggles with PTSD than the average person. Their situations may have been different, but the bond that united them meant that she could be honest without fear of trying to keep up an image of strength. And, just as with Elliot, there was no need to pretend. As it turned out, she didn't even need to say anything at all, the expression on her face said it for her.
"Things are going that good, huh?"
Only mildly frustrated, Olivia exhaled sharply.
"I feel like you haven't known me long enough to be able to read me that well yet."
Owen smiled kindly.
"You forget, Olivia, that while I'm not a licensed professional like your therapist, I am a certified peer counselor. I'm supposed to be able to read between the lines of what people aren't always able to say out loud so that I can help them."
"Yeah, well, you're awfully fucking good at it."
"I'm going to choose to ignore the underlying sarcasm in your tone and pretend that was a compliment."
Despite everything, and the fact that part of her felt like she was on the verge of tears for even thinking about yesterday, Olivia couldn't help but laugh at Owen's attempt at deflecting the situation with humor. It was exactly the moment of levity she needed to pull herself together. Somehow, it also made opening up that much easier.
"Yesterday was a clusterfuck. My emotions were all over the place. I practically had a meltdown in therapy, and I know I scared the shit out of Elliot – just something else to feel guilty for. Then, he tried to help me as he always does by helping plan a workout of a sparring session for me, and while I do think it ended up helping, let's just say the end result was me being a blubbering mess."
"I don't want to sound like I'm spouting platitudes, Olivia, because I know you are aware that I'm being sincere when I say I get where you're coming from. As much as it sucks, the truth is, sometimes we have to allow ourselves to fall apart before we can begin putting the pieces back together."
Olivia let the words roll around in her brain for a few minutes before formulating a response.
"And what do I do if I'm not ready?"
"The fact that you're questioning that, means that you are. But because I know what it's like to convince yourself of something in the meantime – while you're waiting for your brain and body to get on board with the program – you stay on track with your therapist, take up journaling if you think it will help be a positive outlet, and lean on friends and loved ones so you're not carrying the weight all on your own."
He made it sound so simple. Olivia knew she had done the same, comforting survivors many times over her years at SVU. It wouldn't be easy, but it wasn't impossible.
"I can't fight your demons for you Olivia. And I know – you're not asking me to. What I can do, for right now at least, is make sure you're fed so you have the strength to withstand today's challenges. So what do you say? How do you feel about some breakfast?"
Olivia's first instinct was to protest, to argue. She could have sworn she had just said to Owen that she wasn't ready to eat. That was until she glanced at the time an realized that more than an hour had passed while they had been talking. Their coffees, long since forgotten, had grown cold. The rumble in her stomach was another indicator of hunger. Nodding her agreement, she led Owen out to the kitchen, intent on replacing their coffee and curious as to just what type of food he had brought for them.
Since Owen had refused her offer for help, Olivia waited at the table, two fresh cups of steaming, fragrant brew sitting before her. She tried to use her other senses to not only determine what was headed her way, but also satisfy her curiosity. Even though it seemed as though it had been forever since she'd been at work, the Detective within her would not lie dormant – even for something as simple as figuring out a meal.
While she couldn't identify it exactly, her nose could smell something wonderful – the fragrant scent of butter was the one she could most easily recognize. When Owen brought over a tray overflowing with delicious ingredients, Olivia felt her eyes widen in amazement.
"Croissants? Baked brie? And is that homemade raspberry jam?"
"Yes to all three. I make jam every summer. It's one of the few jars we have left, but a new crop will be coming in about a month or so, so I'll be able to make another batch."
Olivia didn't know what to say. The breakfast in it itself was simple one, but very decadent. There was something else that didn't quite make sense – the amount of items on the table didn't exactly add up to the space in the bags that Owen had brought. Once again, Olivia's suspicions were raised, and she was certain that their neighbor had something else up his sleeve.
"Owen, what did you do?"
This time, Olivia was certain of it. The look of feigned innocence that Owen had just given her all but confirmed he had done something to only further prove his kindness. She also made certain to convey in her own expression that she was anything but angry, merely in awe of his generosity.
"It's no big deal. I just know that you and Elliot have had a couple of rough days, so I picked up some things so you wouldn't have to worry about making dinner tonight. There is a ready-made quiche that just requires heating through, and a bag of salad mix so you have something to serve on the side."
"You are too kind, thank you."
Owen reached across the table for Olivia's hand and squeezed gently.
"You're welcome. Now let's eat while these croissants are still warm."
It was a very good idea. Tearing off piece of warm pastry, Olivia grabbed a knife and dipped it into the melty brie. Spreading that onto the chunk of croissant, she followed with a thin layer of the fresh raspberry jam, culminating in what she could only imagine would be the perfect bite. As she popped it into her mouth and the flavors exploded over her taste buds, she knew she hadn't been wrong in her guess.
The combination of sweet and savory tasted wonderful to her, and the flaky, delicate croissant was light and airy. Olivia couldn't remember when she'd last had one that had tasted so good, a rare feat considering the plethora of foods that Manhattan had to offer. Maybe part of it was just because she was reclaiming her appetite in more ways than one, and in doing so allowing herself to enjoy life's simple pleasures.
"Is there anything you wanted to talk about while we ate, Olivia? Or would you prefer to have quiet? Either option is okay with me."
Olivia was grateful for Owen's understanding, and truth be told, she did want to talk. Not that she couldn't confide in Elliot, but it wasn't fair of her to be laying all of her burdens on her partner's shoulders. Yes, she also had Lydia, but sometimes a person just needed a friend as a sounding board. Taking a brief break for a sip of coffee, Olivia ruminated over some of the jumbled thoughts in her brain.
"I appreciate you asking. Between you and me, I'm so glad that you brought the extra food. I was planning on making dinner for Elliot tonight, but cooking isn't exactly one of my stronger skills. Now I can prepare something that won't give either of us food poisoning."
"You don't cook?"
Olivia steeled herself for a moment, already on the defensive before she realized that Owen's question was genuine and not accusatory.
"I never really learned when I was younger, and I've lived alone all my adult life. It was always easier to buy frozen dinners or order take out than to try and cook."
"If you don't think I'm overstepping – and believe me when I say the last thing I want to do is insult you – I could teach you a few things in the kitchen."
Though she was trying to hide her surprise, Olivia was certain her jaw had dropped. Likewise, Owen could guess she was having difficulty finding her voice, so he hurried on to explain.
"When I was in the service, I never intended for the military to be a lifelong career. When I first joined, they were also helping pay for me to attend culinary school. While also serving as a combat medic, I likewise worked in the mess tents while overseas. It's just that when I was injured, it became too difficult for me to stand for extended periods of time. A career in either of my chosen fields - medic or chef – were completely out of the question."
Catching on to what Owen was trying to tell her, Olivia made a guess as to what had likely come next.
"That's why you still take on volunteer shifts as a medic. The peer counseling, I always understood. Even though I'm not at the point of making a decision for myself yet, I've often considered going into victim's services after retirement, because if I have nothing to do but sit around an empty apartment all day, I'll go insane."
"That's exactly how I felt. So while the settlement I got after my injury helps support our family, I need something to do to keep me busy. I also help Stacy by taking on the lion's share of cooking at our home."
Another light bulb going off in her head, Olivia couldn't help but smile now.
"So that tortellini salad that you brought over back when I first arrived? That was you who made that – I'm still so sorry that I never was able to eat that."
"No worries. I can always make you another, or even better, teach you how to make one. So, what do you say? If you've got nothing else planned for the rest of the morning, how about a cooking lesson?"
Maybe all the time off work and dealing with trauma had indeed made her crazy, but Olivia wanted nothing more than to accept. Granted, she was loving her shared time in the kitchen cooking together with Elliot, but she wanted to be able to contribute something more. Popping the last bite of her croissant in her mouth, she gave her friend a smile.
"Sounds like you've got yourself a deal. I hope you know what you're getting yourself into."
Considering what Owen had just offered, and the fact that he had brought over breakfast, it was Olivia who insisted on doing the cleaning up. Not that there was much to take care of, but she wanted to at least put the coffee cups and what few dishes they had already used into the dishwasher before any more dirty items started to pile up during whatever lesson Owen planned to give. Also, prior to starting, Olivia excused herself for a moment to run upstairs so she could pull her hair up and away from her face. What few stray wisps that weren't long enough to be caught in the ponytail, she was able to secure with clasp barrettes to keep from being an annoyance. Pausing briefly to use the restroom, Olivia was soon on her way back downstairs to see just what kind of adventure with Owen awaited her, grateful for the distraction.
Stepping into the kitchen, Olivia found Owen doing just as she had instructed him to do prior to having stepped away for a moment – making himself at home. He was currently setting up things on the center island, and while Olivia was doing her best not to feel overwhelmed, the sheer amount of ingredients did, at first glance, seem alarming. Upon meeting her eye as she walked into the room, Owen's first instinct was to ease the panic he saw written all over his friend's face.
"Relax, Olivia. I promise you, we are starting with something that isn't too difficult. Just a basic recipe of simple quiche that you and Elliot can have for lunch later when he gets back from the gym – or it will even keep and reheat beautifully for dinner if you'd prefer to save it."
Feeling a bit more at ease, Olivia could only nod, until something about Owen's words resonated with her.
"Wait a minute – when I asked you before about what was in the bags, you said you had brought something for Elliot and me to have for dinner – you never once mentioned that assembly was required! Are you telling me that your plan all along was to give me a cooking lesson?"
Without an ounce of shame in his voice, Owen responded.
"Of course. My goal was to find something to keep you distracted for awhile."
Unable to hide her smirk, Olivia arched one eyebrow.
"And if I'd said 'no'?"
"Then I suppose I'd be giving you a demonstration right now, instead of a tutorial."
Squaring her shoulders, Olivia gave a determined nod.
"All right then. What's on the menu, Chef?"
"Just as a said before. A simple quiche. You don't even have to worry about making a pastry crust today, I have a frozen one we're going to use as a shortcut."
Relieved, Olivia nodded and waited for Owen to continue with his explanation. Granted, she and Elliot had been making meals together for awhile now, and she had also been a big contributor with the menu planning, but following an actual recipe and not something that was already well known was a terrifying concept. A part of her wondered if, even given everything she'd been through recently, if it wouldn't be preferable to face off against a perp. At least in that situation, she'd know what to do.
"First things first, we preheat the oven. I've already taken care of setting it to 400° while you were upstairs, and also had the pie crust thawing just enough that it would be ready to be pricked with the tines of a fork."
Okay, that sounded simple enough, Olivia thought. Certainly she couldn't mess up yet. Then again, as her mind spectacularly spiraled out of control, she had visions of gripping the fork too tight, using too much force, and ruining the pie crust on her first attempt, to the point that none of the filling would stay.
"Relax, Olivia. You're not going to mess this up."
Swearing softly, and uncertain as to whether Owen was reading her mind or if she'd actually spoken aloud, Olivia remained focused on her task. A pie crust had never had the tines of a fork pricked into its surface with greater precision than what Olivia was using. Owen was certain that if he were to get a ruler and measure, each of the marks would be exactly one inch apart, Olivia had been that careful. That done, Owen popped the crust into the oven for twelve minutes to par bake, and set Olivia onto the next step of thinly slicing some shallots. Once the crust was out of the oven and cooling – and no longer a distraction – the shallots could sauté in some butter until they were translucent. Technically, Owen supposed they could start that now, but as this was Olivia's first big cook on her own, he wanted to lessen distractions as much as possible by minimizing multitasking.
The timer eventually went off, and with the crust carefully removed and cooling, Owen lowered the oven temperature to 325º. Letting Olivia work mostly on her own to cook the shallots, as that really didn't require supervision, he instead kept her company with light conversation.
Next, while the shallots were cooling, Owen instructed Olivia through the mixing of eggs and heavy cream. To that, he had her add nutmeg, salt, and cayenne pepper to enhance seasoning. Once that mixture was set aside so the flavors could meld, came the self-explanatory task of thawing the frozen spinach in the microwave. Technically, Owen supposed this was something else he could have tackled while waiting for Olivia to join him downstairs, but he wanted her to truly have the cooking experience, and while a mundane step, it was a necessary one. If she should decide to progress in her cooking lessons after today, he would teach her the importance of mise en place, or the French term of 'set in place'. That way, everything needed for the recipe would be ready before Olivia started cooking. Today, though, they were just taking things as they came, and that was fine.
With the shallots and pie crust still in the last stages of cooling, and the spinach thawing in the microwave, Olivia's next job was to shred the Gruyere cheese by hand. This was when she learned that while the pre-bagged variety sold in supermarkets was indeed a modern convenience, for the optimum results, it was better to shred by hand from a block, because the bagged variety often had additives to prevent caking. Not to mention, cheese shredded by hand had a much better melting quality to it.
The last step – and one that wasn't part of the original recipe, but something Owen had added after much trial and error- was the inclusion of some finely diced black forest ham. He also explained to Olivia that the recipe he was showing her today was essentially a 'building block', and that after this she could either keep it the same, or switch it out however she liked. For example, she could add mushrooms, or even change the type of cheese or protein used.
Finally, it seemed that all the pieces of the puzzle were in play. The spinach had been thawed, and all the excess liquid drained. The ham was diced and sitting in a bowl, next to a pillowy pile of Gruyere. Last but not least, the shallots were cool. Now it was time to assemble.
Owen instructed Olivia to place the pie crust on a baking sheet, explaining that would make it easier to not only put in the oven, but also remove when it was done baking. The first layer were the fragrant, sauteed shallots. On top of that was piled the shredded cheese, followed by the diced ham. Last, but not least, the chopped spinach. With the utmost care, Olivia poured the egg mixture, filling the pie crust up to the brim. Almost all of the other ingredients became invisible except for the verdant green peeking through. Owen held the oven door open, and Olivia moved the baking sheet onto the rack, as carefully as though she were carrying precious cargo. The timer was set, and Olivia exhaled a sigh of relief. The only worry now was wondering how it would taste.
The quiche had to bake for about an hour, so with their project finally in the oven, Olivia went about cleaning up. Considering the fact that she and Owen had kind of been taking care of that process as they went along, it wasn't too tedious of a chore. When they were finished, Olivia offered her friend another cup of coffee. Owen accepted, and while it was still relatively early enough in the day for Olivia to have one herself, she decided against the additional caffeine and instead opted to have a glass of ice water.
Settled in the living room, Olivia checked her phone, just in time to catch a text from Elliot asking if there were anything she needed from the store. He was apparently getting ready to leave the gym, once he had showered and changed. He had only stopped at his locker long enough to check in with her. Olivia couldn't think of anything she was missing, so she simply messaged her partner back that he could come straight home. Unsure if it was nerves as to whether her adventures with cooking would turn out positively, or merely wanting to surprise Elliot, she mentioned nothing about what she and Owen had been passing the time with in the kitchen.
"So, what does one serve with a quiche?"
"Nothing to worry about. I brought a salad kit to toss together for an easy side dish – I was telling the truth about that. Before I go, I'll teach you how to whip up a simple Dijon vinaigrette."
The pair sat in silence for a few minutes, before Owen broke the pensive mood with a question. A part of him was worried he might be overstepping, but he also reasoned that if Olivia found the question too personal, she would certainly tell him so, and he would absolutely respect her right not to answer.
"Olivia, if you don't mind my asking, why is it that you have a such a strong – ah – dislike for cooking?"
Olivia smiled, greatly appreciative of Owen's sensitivity toward the subject. While it may have been a well known fact among her coworkers, only Elliot had ever really been aware of the true reason behind her motives.
"It's complicated. Long story short, I didn't have the easiest childhood growing up, and was given more responsibility long before I should have been. If I didn't make something for myself, I wouldn't eat. There was no one around to teach me how to cook. I got by on sandwiches and frozen dinners for the most part, plus cereal – lots and lots of cereal."
Taking a sip of her water, Olivia continued with her story.
"Once I had moved away from home and was on my own, it was only ever just me. I couldn't see the point of cooking anything fancy, plus living in Manhattan, and once I had the money, it was often cheaper to get takeout for one versus going to the grocery store."
Nodding his understanding, Owen rested a hand on Olivia's shoulder for the briefest of moments, squeezing in a show of empathy.
"And now?"
"Now I want to learn. Not just because I've found something positive in preparing meals together with Elliot here, but I think it might help to have another outlet."
Owen got the biggest grin on his face.
"It will be a few lessons away, but I can't wait until it comes time to teach you how to bake bread. You're going to love the process. It's very cathartic."
"Does that mean I'll get to beat the crap out of something?"
"Punching the dough is involved, yes."
"I look forward to it."
Owen looked like he was about to say something else, but the sound of keys turning in the lock captured the attention of both of the individuals sitting on the couch, and they turned their heads toward the door. Elliot stepped over the threshold, locking up after himself, a healthy glow bathing his skin and looking like his morning workout had done him a world of good. Olivia couldn't have been more pleased.
"Hey Liv, Owen."
Elliot paused in the middle of lowering his duffel bag to the floor to sniff the air.
"Have the two of you been cooking? Whatever it is, it smells amazing!"
Sufficiently recovered enough to be able to tease Owen a little, Olivia gestured with a thumb over her shoulder in the general direction of the neighbor.
"Yeah we have. This one shows up at our door with bags, tells me in addition to breakfast, he also brought something for us to have as a meal for later – conveniently omitting the fact that assembly was required. Then, while we were eating our croissants, he somehow gets me to agree to a cooking lesson."
Ever able to pick up on his partner's body language and vocal tone, Elliot knew immediately that Olivia wasn't distressed. Instead, he decided to carry on from where she left off.
"You mean to tell me you tried to teach Olivia Benson how to cook? I know you were in risky situations when you were overseas, man, but this time I don't think you knew quite what you were signing on for."
Laughing, Olivia got to her feet. Giving Elliot a hug, she excused herself only long enough because she wanted to check the timer in the kitchen. Logically, she knew that she and Owen and set not only the one on the stove, but one on her cell phone as well, but she wanted so desperately for the quiche to come out perfectly. When she wandered back into the living room, she was surprised to see Owen also standing.
"I think it's about time I get out of your hair. I don't want to overstay my welcome. Before I go, however, I'll teach you how to make that vinaigrette, Olivia."
"You don't have to go, Owen. You're more than welcome to stay and join us for lunch. After all, you helped cook, and I'm sure there will be plenty."
"I appreciate it, but I'm going to pass for today. We're having the same thing at our house, but I'll definitely accept another time."
As Owen and Olivia took their prior positions at the kitchen island, Elliot lingered back by the doorway.
"I know this is technically Olivia's lesson, but do you mind if I observe? I'm pretty comfortable in the kitchen, but even I have never attempted to make a salad dressing from scratch before."
"Of course, El."
So, that was how, under Elliot's watchful eye, and Owen's gentle instruction, Olivia learned how to prepare a vinaigrette. She was instructed to use the remaining piece of raw shallot, and grate it finely using a microplane into a bowl. Next, a small amount of Dijon mustard was added, followed by some sherry vinegar. After combining the mixture and seasoning it with kosher salt, fresh cracked black pepper, plus some finely chopped tarragon and parsley, it was time to whisk in a steady stream of extra virgin olive oil. Olivia was mesmerized at the way the emulsification was so beautifully created. Then came what she felt was the best part – tasting. Each taking a small piece of bread, they all dipped it into the completed vinaigrette to give it a try. Owen immediately proclaimed the project a success, and Elliot was quick to agree. Olivia was just in surprise that she could have so easily made something so delicious in mere minutes.
After receiving the final instructions for the quiche – which only dealt with required cooling time before cutting – Olivia walked Owen to the door. On impulse, she hugged the man who had kept her company that morning, grateful for his friendship. She also promised to take pictures of the finished quiche before she and Elliot devoured it, not only for her own personal use, but so Owen could see the end result. As he left, Owen also promised to be in touch for setting up Olivia's next cooking lesson.
Once on their own, Elliot could only look at Olivia with pride. He couldn't have been happier for his partner that her morning had gone so well, and seeing the smile on her face did wonders for his own mood. He'd seen for himself how much better her appetite was getting by helping him prepare meals, and he hoped that under Owen's tutelage, her relationship with food would only continue to improve.
"I can already tell by the smile on your face, but I'm guessing you've had a great day so far. Want to tell me about it?"
"I do, and I obviously want to hear about yours, too. But the quiche is due to come out of the oven, then has to rest for about ten minutes. That doesn't leave either of us anywhere near the amount of time to tell our stories. What do you say we talk over lunch instead?"
"That sounds like a great idea. Just let me run my bag upstairs, and I'll give you some help in the kitchen with the final touches. I know you've got a hand on the salad and main course, but how about I make us a fresh pitcher of iced tea?"
Olivia nodded her agreement, and headed in grab the salad greens from the fridge. After washing and draining them, she placed them in a clear glass bowl. Before she could get started with anything else, however, the timer went off, and Olivia carefully removed her pet project from the oven, using the utmost care not to drop it. Setting the timer a second time to allow the quiche to set, she returned to her duties at the island. Opting to keep the side dish a simple affair, she first quartered a plum tomato before cutting it into thin slices. The final touch was adding a few Parmesan crisps in place of croutons to add some crunch. Giving the dressing another stir to make sure all the ingredients were incorporated, Olivia carried both the salad and dressing over to the table, along with the serving utensils.
As she reached the table, a sound behind her captured Olivia's attention, but did not startle her as she knew it was only Elliot come to make the iced tea as promised. Taking care not to get in his way, she instead busied herself with slicing the rest of the baguette that Owen had brought – part of which they had already sampled when tasting the dressing.
"Tea is ready Liv."
Before Olivia could respond, the timer went off on the oven, indicating the the quiche had rested for an adequate amount of minutes and was ready to be cut.
"Why don't you sit down and let me bring it over? You're the one who has been working hard all morning."
Olivia was about to protest, until she glanced at the clock, and realized that nearly three hours had passed since she finished her light breakfast with Owen. Granted, the croissant had been more than filling then, but now that Elliot was home and the lunch hour had rolled around, her stomach was growling with impatience. Maybe that also had something to do with the fact that she had put in such a concentrated effort into the meal.
"Thanks, El."
Seated across from one another at the table, Elliot asked if Olivia wanted to do the honors of cutting the quiche. Ordinarily, it wouldn't have mattered to her which of them did it, but as this was basically one of her first solo efforts into the foray of cooking while using a recipe – albeit under a watchful eye – Olivia was happy to serve the meal. She was also so glad that out of anyone, it was Elliot who she got to share it with. If only the nagging voice at the back of her mind would shut up and not insist that she were going to inflict her partner with food poisoning.
With a deep breath, and with great effort at hiding the tremor in her hand, Olivia cut the quiche into eight even portions. After placing a serving on Elliot's plate, she added a wedge to her own, then they each helped themselves to some salad and bread. Too nervous to make eye contact, Olivia could only wait for the ruling, not trusting her own judgment just yet.
"Liv, this is amazing!"
"Really?"
"Absolutely. It tastes like it is from a restaurant."
Feeling her face flush at the compliment, Olivia was finally brave enough to take a bite herself. While she wouldn't go quite to the extremes that Elliot had, she did have to agree with him that it was indeed very good.
As the duo ate their lunch, they began to talk about their day. It had been so long for either of them since they'd had separate activities to occupy their time, the concept of having different subjects to discuss with one another felt almost foreign. Not necessarily in a bad way, but so much of their lives had been so intertwined as part of Olivia's healing process, that it was a bit strange to have something unique unto themselves. There would be more time for that in the future, however, because while Olivia was planning on joining Elliot for workout on certain days, she wasn't quite the gym junkie that her partner was. Instead, she could see more days much like today – Elliot heading off to take in a meeting and lift weights, while Owen gave her a lesson in not being petrified of the kitchen. Maybe at some point, it would be she and Elliot inviting the neighbors over for dinner instead of the other way around.
After Olivia had finished talking about her day, most of which still seemed surreal, she got to hear about Elliot's. His meeting that morning had been more than beneficial, and while he wasn't at the point where he was craving alcohol constantly, he had received advice from several of the regulars that it might be a good idea to check in weekly. Had she heard this news as little as even a week ago, Olivia might have blamed herself. Not that there weren't some doubts nagging at the back of her brain, but for the most part, she felt confident enough to know that Elliot's own needs were in no relation to her trauma recovery. Just as they had each told dozens of family members over the years, in order to adequately help someone, you had to first take care of yourself. Not to mention, she and Elliot had pretty much been spending every waking moment together. It wouldn't hurt to reclaim some of her independence and start looking for a few separate activities.
The pair finished their lunch – after Elliot had eaten a second helping because he had proclaimed the quiche just that delicious. He then insisted on being the one to take care of the cleanup duties because Olivia had been working all morning. The chore didn't take him long and once he was finished, Olivia suggested they go for a walk. She wasn't looking to exert herself with an extreme workout today, but the idea of getting some fresh air and stretching her legs was an appealing one. To her surprise – Elliot countered with a suggestion of his own – that they take a ride to one of the nearby parks and walk there. Not only would it provide a change of scenery, but on the way back, they could stop for ice cream.
"I like the way you think, Stabler."
"Don't give me too much credit, Liv. I just know how you get if your sweet tooth isn't taken care of. It's not pretty."
Grabbing the first thing within easy reach, which just so happened to be the dish towel that Elliot had just finished using, Olivia swatted her partner with it.
"Watch it, pal, or I'll change my mind about the walk and make you break out the sparring gear."
Olivia went to swing the towel a second time, but Elliot caught it easily in his hands, tugging gently and pulling her into the circle of his arms. Wrapping her in an embrace, he kissed her temple in an additional gesture of affection.
"I'm so proud of you. Not just for today, but for everything. I just wanted you to know that."
"Thanks, El. I'm proud of you, too."
In an interesting turn of events, it was Olivia who ended up driving them to the park, at her insistence. Having gotten the all clear recently from her doctors that driving was permitted – so long as she wasn't feeling drowsy from her medication – she wanted to start reclaiming her independence. A short trip to the park was the perfect way to get back on the road.
It had been several weeks since she'd been behind the wheel, but Olivia was only feeling confident as she backed her SUV out of the driveway with Elliot sitting in the passenger side. As the park they were headed to was a new destination for them both, she had the GPS app on her phone in use. Luckily, it wasn't too far away, and given that it was still early enough in the afternoon, traffic was minimal.
Finding the park easily, Olivia pulled into a parking space near the entrance to one of the walking trails and locked up the vehicle. Falling into step beside her partner, they opted to take the shorter of the two loops, wanting a relaxing stroll as opposed to more vigorous exercise.
The pair walked in silence for awhile, before Elliot was the first to speak.
"The more of this place I see, the more beautiful I think it is. Don't get me wrong, the west coast has its advantages, but it's not where I belong."
"I agree. I feel the same way about Cape May. I love it here, and I'm so grateful that I've been given the opportunity to heal, but it isn't home."
Guessing this wasn't a conversation Olivia wanted to have while they were walking, Elliot caught her gently by the hand and guided her to a nearby bench.
"You want to go back to New York, then?"
"Not right now, obviously, but yes, eventually. I'm still conflicted on whether or not I could feel safe in Manhattan, but it's such a large city, I know I could find a place. And if not there, then at least somewhere in the five boroughs."
Elliot didn't want to push Olivia to the point where she was uncomfortable, but part of him was curious. Before he could ask a question in regard to where his train of thought was heading, however, it seemed that she had already read his mind.
"I don't know how you'd feel about going back there, I know it holds a lot of difficult memories for you, too. When the times comes, that is a decision we can make together."
"Together?"
"Of course, El. I know I said I need time and that I'm not ready for anything more between us right now than what we currently have, but I hope you know that I need you in my life. Wherever my next chapter takes me, I want you to be a part of it."
Chancing a greater connection, Elliot reached for Olivia's hand, clasping it in his own and entwining their fingers. Briefly, he raised their joined palms to his lips to press a kiss against her knuckles.
"That means more to me than you will ever know, Liv."
It was the truth. There had been so many times since the day he had been forced into hiding that he had feared he'd never get the chance to make amends with his former partner and best friend. Now, not only had she welcomed him back into her life, they were on the journey of healing together. As difficult as their separation had been, a part of Elliot believes that it was necessary for them to get to this point, though he would still do anything to have spared Olivia her ordeal with Lewis. The old version of him wouldn't have been as open to therapy, and while being apart was hard, it had allowed them each the ability to grow.
Olivia shivered slightly, whether it was from the mild chill in the air, or the heavy subject matter, she wasn't certain. To anyone else, the imperceptible gesture would have gone unnoticed, but she and Elliot were so in tune with one another, that he honed in on it immediately.
"Are you ready to start walking again? I think we're almost finished with this loop, so we should be back to the car soon."
"Sounds good. Don't forget, Stabler, you still owe me an ice cream."
"I wouldn't dream of it."
Hand in hand, the pair finished their journey in a contemplative silence, each of them at peace with simply being in the presence of the other. When they got back Olivia's SUV, she relinquished the keys to Elliot. It wasn't that she hadn't enjoyed reclaiming her driving independence, but their conversation on the bench had left her feeling vulnerable. She wanted the freedom to be allowed to dwell on those thoughts without risking them distracting her while she was behind the wheel.
As promised, Elliot drove them to the ice cream shop. Not wanting Olivia to feel intimidated by portion sizes or having to make a choice off the menu, even though her relationship with food was improving, his suggestion was that they share something so as not to spoil their appetite for dinner. Olivia's smile was the only answer he needed to know that his idea had been a good one. Together, they chose a hot fudge sundae, wanting to keep to a nostalgic classic.
Choosing a medium worked to their advantage – the sundae was served with twin swirls of vanilla soft serve drizzled in velvety hot fudge sauce. Of course they had asked for every extravagance to be included, so the dessert was also topped with whipped cream, crushed peanuts, and maraschino cherries. Though she didn't specifically ask for any, Elliot also ordered a bottle of water, having remembered that eating ice cream always made his partner thirsty.
They found a table in the corner of the shop by the window. Elliot let Olivia choose her seat first, following her lead and sitting across from her. Not much was said between them at first as they focused on the sweet treat, but the look of happiness on Olivia's face spoke volumes.
When she commented a few moments later, the pleasure was evident in her voice.
"I haven't had one of these in forever. It tastes just as good as I remember."
"For me, too. I'm glad we decided to share something, though. I never could have finished one on my own."
"Speak for yourself, Stabler."
Elliot's eyes widened in shock as he took in Olivia's words. Feeling guilty, his first instinct was to apologize.
"Liv, if you wanted your own, you should have said some-"
"I never said I wanted my own, I was merely commenting that I could have finished one on my own. However, that also would have kept me from eating not only for the rest of today, but likely tomorrow, too."
Understanding his partner's reasoning a lot better now, Elliot's unease quickly abated. Deciding that his momentary panic wasn't worth mentioning – even if he knew that Olivia had likely already been able to read him like a book, he said nothing more and they continued eating their dessert in silence. When they were finished, they sat together enjoying one another's company for several more minutes – at least until the bottle of water ran out. Then, with merely a glance, they reached the unspoken conclusion that it was time to head back home.
"Did you want to drive us back, Liv, or would you prefer me to?"
Feeling significantly calmer and more centered now that she'd had time to process her thoughts, Olivia decided she would love the opportunity to get back behind the wheel. Plus, it was only a short distance back to the cottage, and still early enough in the day that traffic would not be a concern. Reaching for the keys, she gave Elliot what she hoped was a confident smile.
"If you don't mind, I think I'll drive."
"Of course not. Lead the way, partner."
Though she was not yet as familiar with the streets of Cape May as Elliot, Olivia skillfully drove them back without incident. She hadn't been anticipating any issues, it was just that constant sense of self doubt that had been ever present at the back of her mind ever since her encounters with Lewis. The more time she took to heal and opened herself up in therapy, the quieter that internal voice got, but it was still far too loud for her liking.
Parking in the driveway beside Elliot's vehicle, Olivia considered the overall afternoon trip to be a success. Obviously, she could have done without the mental overload while at the park, but at least she hadn't had a complete emotional breakdown. Not that Elliot would have faulted her if she had, but it would have been monumentally embarrassing.
Following behind her partner as he unlocked the door and joining him as they both kicked off their shoes, Olivia excused herself to head upstairs for a few minutes. Once there, she changed into clothes more suitable and comfortable for spending the rest of the day lounging around the house. By the time she got back downstairs, she discovered Elliot had been having similar ideas, as he too was wearing something different. What she hadn't been expecting, however, was the stack of board games that sat on the coffee table, waiting for her arrival.
"I hope you don't mind, Liv. But I had a feeling you weren't in the mood to watch anything just yet, but would also go completely insane if it was too quiet. I found these when organizing stuff in my closet, and thought they might help pass the time."
"That sounds like a great idea."
After sorting through the stack of games, the two ultimately decided on Scrabble. While challenging and most certainly competitive, it didn't require a great deal of skill beyond that of spelling ability and strategy of word placement. They didn't have a dictionary at their disposal, but each of them had cell phones handy – it would be easy enough to look up any suspicious words.
"Before we get started, did you want something to drink? I'm going to grab something from the kitchen."
"Just a water, please, El."
While Elliot was busy getting their drinks, Olivia occupied herself with getting the game board set up. She pulled the coffee table closer to the couch, figuring they would both appreciate a more comfortable setting as opposed to sitting at the dining table. Situating herself at one corner, she propped a pillow behind her back and sat cross legged so she would easily be able to reach the tiles in front of her.
Elliot joined Olivia on the couch, passing over a bottle of water as he sat, practically mirroring his partner's position. He jokingly remarked about whether or not the tiles were adequately mixed up in the box lid, receiving a scathing look for his comment. The teasing only intensified when Olivia drew the letter 'A' to Elliot's 'Q', allowing her the privilege of having the first turn.
For the most part, the game went smoothly, and the partners were evenly matched. While he may have seemed like a man of few words to those who didn't know him well, Elliot had an expansive vocabulary, a result of his love of reading, a pastime he had been able to take part in much more often ever since he had left the force. Naturally, Olivia was quite the wordsmith herself, too, having grown up with Serena. The two may have had a conflicted relationship, but the elder Benson had instilled in her daughter a great appreciation for the classics.
In the end, the game came to a near draw, Olivia having won out by a mere two points. Elliot immediately challenged her to a second, backtracking only when he saw just how weary she really was. Though she declined the initial offer, Olivia did offer a rain check, promising a rematch the following afternoon. She then started to try and clean up, but was immediately halted in her tracks.
"No, Liv, let me. After all, you set up."
"Okay."
Olivia stretched out more on the couch, laying her head on the armrest while Elliot busied himself with tidying up the Scrabble game and putting the rest of the boxes away on a shelf in the corner of the room. It hadn't been her intention to fall asleep, but nonetheless, she had dozed off almost immediately, fatigue from her busy day settling in. When Elliot turned around and found his partner slumbering comfortably, he felt the same strange pull in his heart he always got these days seeing her so at peace. Not wanting to disturb her, he quietly grabbed the throw blanket from the back of the couch and covered her with it so she wouldn't catch a chill, then headed off in the direction of the kitchen to start preparations for dinner. It wasn't so late in the day that a short nap would hurt Olivia's schedule, and he would wake her once the evening meal ready.
As Elliot began gathering ingredients, he again remembered over how the items he had brought home from the store earlier had gone unnoticed. Granted, Olivia had been preoccupied with her own culinary adventures, so he had taken no offense. He, too, had been surprised when he'd arrived home to find that she and Owen had spent the better part of the morning and early afternoon with a cooking lesson. A part of him had been looking forward to sharing this particular recipe with Olivia and making it together, but he could easily overlook her exhaustion. Besides, if his efforts were successful, they could easily add it to the rotation and make it a part of their regular menu.
Tonight's dinner was going to be pizza. Not just any pizza – but pizza cooked on the grill. Much like Owen had done to aid Olivia today, Elliot had also allowed himself the advantage of a few shortcuts. He'd stopped at a specialty foods store and purchased a round of already made dough to avoid having to deal with yeast, proofing time, and the like.
The plan tonight was to make a simple Margherita pizza, which meant that the sauce would be easy enough, requiring only a can of crushed San Marzano tomatoes. Topped with fresh mozzarella, basil, salt, and a drizzle of olive oil, it would make for a classic blend of flavors.
Elliot ran into his first snag when he had difficulty locating a rolling pin for the dough, but was quickly able to pivot and after watching a tutorial on his phone determine that he was better off stretching it by hand anyway. Exasperated with himself for how easily he'd forgotten the instructions he'd been given at the shop, he was regretting having refused the written directions. A second look in the bag found that they had been included anyway, so the owner must have taken pity on him. Even better, there were even specification for adapting cooking the dough on a grill as opposed to a traditional oven.
Within minutes, the dough was ready. While Elliot was waiting for the grill to preheat, he tackled the side dish. Even though they had already had salad with their lunch today – the mixed field greens made with that delicious homemade vinaigrette – he was planning on making using a bagged Caesar salad that they'd purchased on a recent grocery order. With everything necessary all in one kit, it was easy enough to assemble. Carrying the dough out to the patio where the hot grill was ready and waiting, Elliot drizzled one side with olive oil. Placing it oil side down, he liberally drizzled the opposite side then closed the lid and set the timer on his phone. He had just long enough now to run in and grab the other ingredients.
Pausing at the sink only for the time it would take to wash his hands free of any oil residue, Elliot piled what he would need on a large wooden tray, including the pizza pan. It would not only save him additional trips back and forth, but make the return to the kitchen carrying hot pizza that much easier.
The rest of the process passed almost seamlessly, and before he knew it, Elliot was pulling a fragrant pizza off the grill. The cheese had melted perfectly. Now was the ideal time to top with the fresh basil, and as a final touch – one last drizzle of olive oil. Making sure that he had turned the propane tank off on the grill, Elliot headed back inside, carrying what he hoped would be a successful dinner.
Much to Elliot's surprise, when he returned to the kitchen with the finished pizza, he found Olivia awake and waiting for him. She looked slightly confused, but that wasn't the expression that worried him. It was the one of guilt that she wore that he most wanted to erase from her features.
"Liv, what is it?"
"I never meant to fall asleep. I usually help with dinner."
Immediately setting down the tray in his hands and crossing the distance to reach her in two quick strides, Elliot framed his hands around her face. Purposely looking back and forth between her troubled brown eyes, he made certain she was hearing him when he spoke.
"I know, but don't forget how hard you worked to make an amazing lunch for us. The way I see it, it was my turn to cook anyway."
The corners of Olivia's mouth turned up ever so slightly, even though he could tell she was still warring with her emotions. His sense of reason was getting through to her, however, and she ultimately nodded her agreement.
"So, what did you end up making? Whatever it is, it smells amazing. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you cheated and ordered in pizza delivery."
"Well, it is pizza, but I didn't cheat. At least, not technically."
Realizing Elliot was still cradling her face in his palms, Olivia took a half step back, although she was reluctant to move. The gesture did end up working to her advantage, because it allowed her the ability to better meet her partner's eye.
"What do you mean 'not technically'? How do you 'not technically' cheat when it comes to pizza?"
Laughing, Elliot wrapped an arm around Olivia's shoulders, pulling her closer to him as he led them both toward the dining table.
"Simply put, I did make dinner. I just took advantage of using a few shortcuts. For example, I bought the dough at a specialty store. Also went with the easiest type of pizza I could think of to make. Then for the side, I used a bagged salad kit to save even more time."
"Sounds like my kind of cooking."
"I knew you'd approve."
Guiding Olivia to a chair, Elliot insisted she sit while he take care of bringing everything in – and turned a deaf ear to her protests. Since the pizza was still too hot, his first step was to grab drinks and the salad. When all the other basic tasks and prep were done, Elliot used the utmost care to cut the pizza into eight equal slices. Carrying it to the table, which was already set with plates and utensils, he awaited a verdict. There was no denying Olivia looked just as impressed by his meal as he had been by hers earlier that day.
"This looks great, El. Plus, Margherita pizza? You made my favorite."
"I know."
Olivia sat back and allowed Elliot to serve her a slice, then helped herself to some salad, returning the favor and putting some on her partner's plate as well. She didn't start eating until Elliot sat down to join her at the table, and then the pair fell into the usual ease and comfort they shared at mealtime. Eventually, the the topic of conversation trended toward their plans for the weekend. While Elliot had a few ideas of his own, he was obviously waiting for Olivia to take the lead – something she had no problem voicing her opinion for.
"I was thinking maybe we could go back to the Farmer's Market. I know that won't take up too much time, but I also know we don't have to fill every day with activities either. In fact, I'd be perfectly happy with spending this weekend relaxing, save for perhaps hitting the gym at some point."
"That sounds like a good plan to me. I was actually going to suggest the Farmer's Market myself."
Olivia smiled, even though she had already known that there would have been no pressure on her to conform to any one thing in regard to weekend plans. Secretly, she started forming the idea of treating Elliot to dinner the following day, kept it to herself, as she knew all too well that nothing was guaranteed in terms of how her mood would be on any particular day.
The pizza Elliot had made for dinner tasted amazing, and along with the Caesar salad as side, very filling. After eating two slices and a heaping serving of the salad, Olivia was full. One glance at her partner told her he was pretty much the same. Getting to her feet, she started on cleaning up duties, silencing his protests much in the way he had quieted hers following lunch. Once the leftovers were put away and the dishwasher was set to run with the day's dirty dishes, the pair retired to the living room, Elliot intent on a rematch of Scrabble from their earlier game. Olivia was tempted, but after her busy day was feeling weary, so she asked for a rain check, which she was granted without issue. Instead, the partners curled up on the couch together and decided to spend the rest of the evening watching mindless television.
It didn't take long for Olivia to determine that it was a very good thing that whatever program Elliot had decided upon didn't require her full attention. Not only was the day catching up to her, but her mind was running wild – nothing she would characterize as bad, just more on the introspective side of things. It was a lot to process all at once. Logically, she knew she could easily put voice to the words spinning through her head and Elliot would gladly listen, but a part of her wanted to take this time to quietly reflect before speaking them out loud.
The first that came to mind was how the unsteadiness of that morning had quickly been eclipsed by hear partner's reassurance. As little as a week ago, Olivia knew she would have felt nothing but guilt for lingering in bed and getting the extra rest her body needed, but today she had only required that gentle push from Elliot that a little more sleep was exactly the ticket.
Then, there had been Owen's visit, and the reminder that although she hasn't known the neighbor for very long, how quickly he has become a trusted and valued friend. Though their experiences with trauma were indeed very different, it still links them. The cooking lesson had been an unexpected surprise, but already she is looking forward to what else Owen has to teach her and how this new hobby can provide yet another outlet in helping her heal.
As Olivia continued mentally cataloging her day, there was something else she couldn't ignore – the milestone of getting back behind the wheel. Where not that long ago, it was something she took for granted, she has learned to appreciate the ability that much more, and getting that bit of freedom and independence back was such a big step forward.
"Liv, you with me?"
Startled from her reverie, Olivia turned her attention to her partner. Judging by the look of concern on his features, it hadn't been the first time he'd called her name or inquired after her well being. Feeling a blush stain her cheeks in embarrassment at having been caught with a wandering mind, she hurried to reassure him.
"Yeah, El. Sorry. Just got lost in my thoughts. All good, I promise. Nothing for you to worry about."
"Anything you want to talk about?"
The more she considered it, the more she realized, that yes, she did.
"Yeah, I do. But I'm also about ready to call it night. So what do you say we head upstairs and get ready for bed, and I'll tell you everything before we go to sleep?"
Several minutes later, they were both equally settled for the night. With the temperatures getting milder, there was no longer as much need for the heavier down comforter Olivia had been using. For her part, she was still insisting she was fine sharing blankets with Elliot, which he was touched by, but out of respect for her occasional nightmares and not wanting to do anything to trigger her, offered another compromise. His suggestion was that they continue to share the bed as they've been doing, but switch out to each having separate covers. As the bed was king sized, it allowed each of them plenty of space. Of course, Olivia was always welcome to initiate physical contact – they had found she often fell asleep easiest snuggled up against Elliot's chest.
Opting to leave the TV in the bedroom on, but at a minimal volume for the purpose of background noise only, Elliot and Olivia crawled into bed. Instead of curling up against him like she usually did, she instead turned on her side so she would be facing him. Mirroring his partner's position, Elliot did the same, and waited for her to start talking, not wanting to pressure her before she was ready.
"I didn't mean to zone out on you downstairs. I had just got to thinking about today, and my mind kind of ran away with me."
Though nothing about what Olivia had just said was laugh-out-loud funny, Elliot nonetheless felt a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Naturally, she noticed him trying to hide his mirth and called him out on it immediately.
"What's so funny?"
"How hard did you have to self-edit that sentence to keep from saying the words 'I'm sorry'?"
Olivia punched her partner in the shoulder, trying to keep the glare on her face, though it was obvious she was trying to hide her laughter, too.
"You're an asshole, you know that?"
"And?"
"You're also not wrong."
Elliot knew just what it had cost Olivia to admit that apology was still a reflex, and he was immensely proud of her. With a kiss on her forehead, he told her as much, then settled back in to hear the rest of her story.
"As I was saying, I was just reminiscing on the day. I'm sure you had already guessed when I first woke up this morning I wasn't at my best. It may not seem like much, but just your suggestion that I allow myself the grace and the permission to get a few hours of extra sleep really meant a lot. It was exactly what I needed."
"Sometimes we all have to allow ourselves grace, Olivia. I know it's no secret that it's something I struggle with personally, too. Tell you what. I'll always remind you to take care of yourself, if you always remind me."
"You've got a deal."
Olivia took a cleansing breath, then continued.
"Anyway, that extra sleep really made all the difference. Once I woke up for the second time, I felt ready to face the day. I can honestly say that when I headed downstairs to start the coffee for Owen and my breakfast, I wasn't expecting a cooking lesson in my future, but it was still a pleasant surprise – and a fun one, too."
"I've noticed you've been enjoying when we prepare meals together. I must admit that the idea of cooking lessons has been something that has crossed my mind, but I held back only because I wasn't sure you were ready for that type of social situation just yet."
"I appreciate that. You're probably right. But this one-on-one with Owen is just perfect. You can join us sometimes."
Elliot gave it careful thought, wanting to say the right thing.
"Not that I'm not interested, or grateful, but I think I'll let you have that. I can always hit the gym, or find something else to make myself scarce. I love spending time with you, Liv, but it's okay to have some things just for yourself."
A beat or two passed in silence, then Elliot tacked on an afterthought.
"However, if Owen ever teaches you how to make bread from scratch, I may observe. I've always wanted to learn that, but have been too chicken to attempt it from just a recipe. The idea of working with live yeast scares the shit of out me."
Chuckling at the look of confusion on Olivia's face, Elliot elaborated.
"I guess I can't help but be reminded of that old horror movie 'The Blob' from the fifties, and think that is what will happen to the kitchen if I forget about the dough and let it overproof."
Olivia was now having difficulty containing her laughter, but ultimately had to admit that it was a legitimate fear, and had she thought about it enough, she would be worried about the same thing.
"I don't know that I honestly have words to describe how that lunch Owen taught me to prepare made me feel. Growing up, I either just had sandwiches or cereal, when my mom was sober long enough to go shopping, we had TV dinners. Given how long you've known me, I'm sure you can remember the state of my refrigerator at my apartment. It was no secret I was on a first-name basis with most of the area places that delivered take out."
"My story was similar, but to the opposite extreme. I had to cook the basics because Mama might not always be able to. It was just something else to make my dad hate me more, because cooking was 'women's work'. But my brothers, sisters, and I had to eat. Then when Kathy and I got married so young and started a family, we had to juggle everything to be able to manage."
It felt good, this open and honest sharing. They weren't even in one of their joint therapy sessions. To Olivia and Elliot, it just felt as though the lines of communication kept growing, the bond between them getting stronger with every day. Not wanting to rush her along in her story, but seeing that her eyes were starting to droop, and knowing how much she likely needed to get whatever it was off her chest, Elliot prompted her to continue.
"What else, Liv?"
"I drove today. I haven't done that since I ended up here, and if I'm being realistic, I probably shouldn't have even been driving then. Was more or less on auto pilot at the time, but I suppose hindsight is twenty-twenty."
"The important thing is, Liv, that you're okay. You may not have recognized it at the time, but once you did, you knew not to drive. You know better now what your triggers are and how to handle them."
"That's the other thing."
Confused, Elliot turned his head to the side and gave his partner a funny look.
"What other thing?"
"The other thing I realized. The final piece of the puzzle that fell into place for me tonight. It all started to make sense that while I'm far from cured – I still have a long way to go, I've taken great steps forward. For the first time in as long as I can remember, I can honestly say I'm breaking through the surface and see the light on the other side of the tunnel, and I no longer believe it's an oncoming train."
Wrapping his arms around Olivia, Elliot held her close in an embrace. What she had said was so poignant, but it also perfectly had summed up his own feelings in the aftermath of the shooting in the precinct when he had been struggling with his own PTSD and depression. It hadn't been until Don had been there to guide him that he'd had the same revelation that had just come to his partner. That she was at this point was a monumental milestone in her recovery. He was so proud of her, and not the least bit surprised of the tears that he felt staining his shirt, nor was he ashamed of the ones he felt welling up in his own eyes. Yesterday may have been a difficult day, but today had more than made up for it. Bit by bit, Olivia was regaining her confidence and once again becoming the fierce, independent woman that he had always loved and admired. And Elliot felt his heart healing right along with hers.