AN: Once upon a time I had a lot of love and inspiration for these characters and these stories. Sadly I feel like I have lost my love for them, and although they will always hold a special place in my past, I just can't seem to access them like I used to. This final short piece for Ripples was written a while ago but I never posted it and yet it actually works quite well as an ending. I had a whole outline of what I was going to write after this regarding 'the scene' but sadly I am going to have to end it here and allow you all to use your very capable imaginations *wink wink*. Sorry to anyone that is disappointed when they arrive here to no new chapter. It was a crazy, fun, wild ride writing this story, made extra special by your hilarious comments and ongoing support. X
Olivia steps into the familiar elevator at the Four Seasons, with Elliot not far in tow.
She turns as he enters, her bouncy curls bobbing from the motion as his large, warm hand slips into hers. She is still sporting the sequinned gold dress and heels from the boat, only her outfit is now sheltered by a tanned, faux fur evening coat. His eyes settle on her features and he gives her a small, reassuring smile.
He moves forward, pressing the button for the penthouse and they start to ascend the long leisurely ride up 45 floors.
She feels his fingers, coarse, yet warm as they softly brush hers and she is instantly brought back to the first night of the case.
Before the pool.
Before the boat.
B.C.
Before Charlie.
She recalls that evening so vividly.
There had been no words of comfort or reassurance exchanged between them, just a gentle squeeze of her palm before the elevator doors slid open and their entire relationship changed overnight.
She wonders just what to expect from tonight..
"Liv.." his voice trails through her thoughts and she waits a few beats before she glances up at him. There is ease in his gaze now, a renewed calmness in his demeanour. It's unexpected how relaxed he seems with her now and she waits on edge to hear what he is going to ask her.
"Would this be an inappropriate time for me to ask you to marry me?"
She lets out a loud, unexpected laugh and then looks away, shaking her head with a smile, but as the silence draws on and the seconds tick by she can tell from his tone that he wasn't actually kidding.
"Jesus Elliot," she whispers from the shock of it all before clearing her throat. Out of all the things he could have said to her in that moment, that was the last thing she'd expected.
A few beats pass as her mind scrambles for an appropriate response.
"Yes," she settles on, watching as the numbers above them continue to ascend.
"Yes it's inappropriate?" he treads carefully. "Or yes, you'll marry me?"
They had just spent the early hours of their afternoon down at the hotel bar. It was the first time they had been alone since the boat - they had been flirting, touching, sipping lazily on Manhattan's. They'd been open and honest with each other about what was in store tonight. They had laid down rules, safe words and future proclamations.
She feels entirely comfortable now, particularly as they make their journey up to the Penthouse floor. She glances back over at his waiting eyes and it surprises her at just how effortlessly and honestly she can answer him now.
"Both."
THE END