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Chapter Text

Chapter One  <3

Snow falls soundlessly, tiny, icy little crystals softly coating everything before her. 

The powdery untouched snow is difficult to make out amongst the many tread marks of children, adults, and dogs all gathered together to celebrate their annual Christmas festival. 

Christmas music is playing, the older classics that never grow old, and Olivia knows it has something to do with her comment a few months ago about the older ones forever being the best. 

Although the sky is dark, the twinkling lights from the illuminations of the trees add a warming touch to the crisp wintry evening. The thing she had grown to love most about living here, in Alaska, in the run up to Christmas was the freshly cut pine trees. The experience is both joyful and soul-filling at the same time, and as she stands at the bottom of the hill, she inhales deeply, letting the scent of stars and snow and pine resin fill her.

Until the rumble of a weighted rubber donut traveling at speed across flattening snow roars past her in a haze and the added screams of excitement from her child makes her shout out “shit” as she frantically attempts to bite her glove off her hand with her teeth in order to free her thumb and use it to load the camera up on her phone. 

When Noah glides to a stop and steps out of his donut he immediately turns to face her. “Mom,” he pants, “that was so awesome! Did you get it?” he asks smiling before disappointment sets in. “Please, tell me you took the video?”

Her eyebrows knit together as she watches him walking towards her, tugging the rope to his donut behind him, and she makes her voice as apologetic as she can muster. “I’m so sorry, Noah. You were so fast…I missed you.”

He sighs, his little dejected face dropping to look down at the snow, and the mom guilt hits her with vengeance. “Why don't you go up again? I’ll be ready this time.”

“Okay,” he nods in his soft, sweet, disappointed voice, and it's only a video of him sliding down the hill, but the fact she missed it is chewing her up inside. 

“See, Noah!” she shouts to him, waving her phone in the air as he drags his donut up the hill.

In a bit of embarrassment, he nods back and rushes to the summit of the snow-clad hill.

As soon as he reaches the top, he wastes no time in throwing his body back into the hole in the middle, and with one swift kick of the rubber from the older boy managing the health and safety, he rockets down the hill and whizzes past Olivia.

This time, she catches the video. 

As Noah's donut skids at the bottom, he tumbles out, giggling before jumping to his feet again.

“Please tell me you got that one?” he beams, already knowing from her smile that she did.

Whether it's the whiteness of the snow, the brightness of the lights and trees, or the merry cheers all around, there's something about how his smile is brighter here.

"Hey Noah! Come play!" waves a familiar boy from Noah's class, and he flicks his excited face and wide eyes towards her to wordlessly ask if he can ‘go play', and when she smiles and nods her head, he gives out an over-exaggerated “yes!” and takes off once again.

It's been five years since she packed up everything in New York, threw a dart at a map, and decided to move to Alaska for a fresh start. Five years since she walked out of that townhouse, gun to head and thought she would never see the face of her baby again, five years since enough was enough. 

Here was as good as anywhere. She didn't have family, her friends were scattered around the states, and she had decided that those who wanted to stay in contact would. Fin calls regularly, Amanda too, and she even hears from Nick and Don occasionally.

“I think the donutting was a success this year,” Leo Matheson calls out from behind her. She doesn't need to turn to recognize his deep, husky, confident voice, but she does anyway, and as usual, he quickly closes the gap between them, pressing his lips against hers. 

“It was,” she smiles, pulling back and pushing him away because she has warned him several times since they started dating that pda’s are not at all her style, especially not at the Christmas festival where all eyes are on them. Or more so, on Leo. 

All eyes are always on Leo. 

“Still ashamed of me?” he asks, mockingly, ignoring her warning and closing in on her again. 

As she narrows her eyes towards him, he laughs, holds his hands in the air, and backs off. “Alright, I know. Too soon, not in public, people are watching us. I know all your excuses Liv,” he reels off, but in seeing his discouraged eyes, Olivia instantly feels guilty. 

“It's not that I’m making excuses Leo, It's just there's a lot of… variables.”

“Variables?” 

“Yeah,” she pauses before bobbing her head towards Noah as he runs past with his friend giggling. “That's the main one.”

“I get that, but what about the others?” 

The smile on her face is thin as she scans the crowd, wary of small-town gossip seekers.

“Leo, not now?” she asks quietly. 

“Yeah, not now. Not after work. Or on a Tuesday. Or a Sunday. Or not when we’re laying in bed together,” he spits in sarcasm, and she nods her head and rolls her eyes to every truth he spits out. At this point she instantly regrets not just allowing the man to kiss her publicly because really? What is so wrong with that, she asks herself?

Nothing, she thinks, there's nothing wrong with it. He's all blonde hair, rich blue eyes, well-built, and from a long line of a family of wealth, which comes with its own set of insecurities, but ultimately he's a really nice guy. 

He may be close to being ten years her junior, and every woman in this small town has been eyeing him and hating her ever since he pursued her affections, but so far she's managed to weather that. 

“People gossip enough, Leo. I don't want to overhear people’s opinions on our relationship.” She tries to whisper, looking over her shoulder. “I have enough of that from your mother.”

He laughs, humorlessly. “You really have a thing against mothers don't you?”

It's immediate and sharp, the tilt of her head, and when she says nothing and raises her eyebrows, he sighs deeply. “I’m sorry. Look I didn't mean that, it was in poor taste. I was just thinking about the odd things you've mentioned about your mom and how you didn’t get on well with the mom of that guy Brian you dated, and then there's mine.” 

“I tried with your mother.” 

“I know, I know,” he hushes, rubbing the palm of his hands against her shoulders. “And that's on her. She's never liked any of my girlfriends, I promise.”

Olivia pouts, accidentally of course but it’s still evident and it makes Leo smile. “I want to kiss you more when you do that, you know.”

“Fine, I'll stop,” she says, turning away from him in protest but also taking the opportunity to check on Noah’s location.   

“Oh come on, what mothers like any women in their sons' lives at first?” 

She knows one, she wants to tell him, as she pictures the compassionate smile of the blonde older woman who once sat across from her and told her that she understood how Olivia had scared the pants off her daughter in law. 

But, that was a different life and as for opening that can of worms, she thinks better of it.

“I suppose,” she agrees instead, with a shrug and a look that says I’m ready to go now. 

“Thirty minute warning?” Leo asks, picking up on her signals and checking his watch before stretching his gaze on the lookout for Noah, who's running around somewhere in the snow. 

“Thirty minute warning,” she replies in agreement, wrapping her already fastened coat tighter around what she imagines is her blue body. She never could get used to the cold here, even with all the layers of wind-proof, shock-proof, snow-proof, whatever-proof items Leo had kitted her out with from his store. She still felt the forever chill. 

In that moment, Leo catches Noah's eye, points to his watch, holds up three fingers, and Olivia watches as Noah shakes his head in dispute before she casts a stern eye that he can see, no matter how far away she is.

“Great,” Leo says, thinking it's his doing that's made Noah give up his protest and it makes Olivia smirk. 

When he turns back around to face Olivia, he glances over her tightly wrapped posture. “You’re cold,” he assumes. 

A chuckle with icy breath escapes from her lips. “I am very cold.”

“Let me just wrap up a few things and I’ll meet you and Noah at the truck?”

“Sounds good,” she nods, teeth almost beginning the chatter. 

“Can I?” he asks before he leaves, leaning his face in towards hers, and she smiles softly in agreement as he presses a now welcomed warm kiss on her cold, snow burnt cheek. 

<3

Olivia sits in the back of the truck watching the quaint small town closest to their home pass by. Noah had already fallen asleep in her lap, and he was making that breathy open-mouthed sound that children make when they have finally passed out after using all of their energy playing. 

Softly stroking her fingers through his curls and along the temple of his head, her face splits into a smile. Her boy is flourishing here; he has great friends, he’s in a good school, he's well known in their little community, and he takes part in things he maybe wouldn't have had the opportunity to do back in New York City.

Though she can't help herself, she wonders, trying to decide whether she made the right decision and if moving here could have cost him the benefits that the city and her old job could have provided. That's something she misses too, her old job and being frontline in helping people. Obviously, what she does now is meaningful. She works closely with Alaskan colleges and universities to identify strategies and approaches for preventing sexual assaults on campuses, but she does it from home. She communicates through Teams and Zoom, and while her efforts are working well as evidenced by lowering statistics, she no longer gets to see the firsthand results.

It's quite lonely really when she thinks about it.  

Throughout the darkness surrounding them, Leo's charming blue eyes scan the rearview mirror. “Liv,” he calls from the front of the truck and it quickly brings her out of her thoughts. 

“Yeah?” she asks, her voice dry and a little hoarse. 

“When we get back I need to talk to you about something.”

Olivia glances to meet his eyes in the mirror, but when he abruptly pulls them away to watch the road and turn the wheel to go into her neighborhood, she raises her eyebrows. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah,” he says, abrupt but friendly enough. “I’ll talk to you in inside.”

Nodding, she tries to figure out what he may want to talk about. She had backed off a bit since he asked Noah and her to move in with him last week. Tonight was her first evening seeing him since then, and yeah, she’d been a little quiet, but he had promised to give her space, time to think.

Lifting Noah's head from her lap, she gently wakes him, just enough for him to walk inside. Once in, she helps him upstairs and into his pjs, and as soon as his head hits the pillow, he is out again.

Downstairs, Leo lies relaxed on the sofa, his legs propped up on the glass coffee table, eyes glued to his phone. As she walks back down the stairs, there's an unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach and it makes her breath shaky. “Hi,” she says carefully. 

“Hi,” he replies, head snapping up to greet her. “He asleep?”

“Yeah,” she nods, unable to shake the apprehension. 

“Good,” he says as he casually returns to his phone, as if she hadn't just spent the last twenty minutes fretting about them being alone. 

“You said you wanted to talk?” she prompts. 

Leo grins, takes his feet off the table and sits more upright. “Okay so. Hear me out.” He pauses for a second before diving right in with his best sales-pitch voice. “Social media. I think you should join.”

She breathes an immediate sigh of relief, shoulders instantly dropping as she feels the weight shift. He's not asking her about moving in again. 

“Faceboo,k” he says, carrying on the patter and standing up to walk towards her, making a pointed gesture at the app. 

“I know what Facebook is, Leo.”

“Okay well, just humor me,” he says and she sighs. “I use it a lot. People ‘round here, they use it a lot. It's good for business, but it's also good to share with people. Like images, videos and things.”

“And?” 

He shrugs awkwardly, twists his mouth to the side, and currently she's absolutely no idea where this is all leading.

“Come on, Leo. What about it?” 

“I want to change our relationship status on Facebook.” 

She rolls her eyes; she's heard about this over the years, people linking themselves together online, showing the world. “I didn't think that was a thing people did anymore?” 

“Maybe not as much,” he begins to mutter, “but if you won’t move in with me, I think it would be nice, for me, to show the town that...” He moves in closer to her, cups the side of her cheek in his palm. “That we’re together.” 

Sighing, she closes her eyes, the thought of rejecting him twice in a week pains her. “The town knows we are together. It's that small around here they knew as soon as I did.”

“I know,” he agrees softly. “It just would be really nice to be able to hold hands in public, or talk about you to colleagues or just do something to show people that we’re an actual couple.” 

“We do all that, Leo,” she says, tensing slightly. “Sometimes.” 

He drops his hand from her face, and he backs away, voice flat. “It would be really nice to have something committed for you. You won’t move in, no public displays of affection...” His voice hitches as he speaks. “This would mean a lot to me.” 

Olivia swallows, looks between his disheartened face and the floor. “I just don't see why we need to do all of that,” she offers, tenderly, cautious that using the wrong words would squash him. “Why do people need to see our relationship when we know what our relationship is?”  

He steps back further, and she can see the obvious disappointment in his eyes. “You’re so private, Liv. I respect that, I really do, but you've gotta give me something.”

Regarding him carefully, she pauses, and when she finally thinks of what she could possibly say, he puts words into her mouth. “You don't want to be with me do you?” he asks calmly, shaking his head. “I know there's no one else because you've lived here all these years, and it took me years just to get you to have coffee with me, so what, is it me ?” 

“Leo,” she soothes, moving closer to him. “It's not that I’m private, it's just there's a lot of things I don't like about social media. It has nothing to do with us or our relationship, you know that, don't you?”  

While he smiles half-heartedly, she knows that it's not the declaration of love that he's eagerly seeking, and she hates that she can't give him what he wants.

It does make her happy to be with him; he makes her smile on a morning, he's great with Noah, he'll do any DIY she's unable to do for herself, but she can't give her heart to him just yet. Maybe Facebook will do? 

“Only Facebook,” she announces, and his smile widens. “But you set it up, no obvious pics of Noah, and don't expect me to post on it, or use it.” 

He smirks, holding his hand out for her phone. “Deal,” he confirms as she slaps it into the palm of his hand, and he chuckles. “Trust me, you’ll end up on it all the time you know.”

She shakes her head, in certain defiance because she certainly will not.

“You’ll see. Once we start finding all your old friends and seeing their lives you’ll find yourself ten years deep in some old acquaintance, catching up on everything you've missed.”

<3 

There's no help in the world for her this evening. It's colder than usual, Leo is snoring as loud as ever, and the thick blanket that's cocooned around her doesn't help, nor does the blinking 4.35am clock on the side.

She silently moans in frustration, and since all she's done since they went to bed is toss and turn, she refrains from rolling over again. Leo is woken up every time she moves and every time his arm stretches out over her until she can wiggle her way out. He loves her, it's sweet, but not tonight. She needs space. 

The words he said to her earlier have been rolling around her head, old friends, ten years deep, catch up what's missed. 

He had been right about some of it. It was a pleasure to see Amanda's page. She has two girls now, and although Olivia receives the odd snapshot of them, there's a lot more to see online. Fin even has a page, lots of him and Phoebe, but mainly shots of food. That made her laugh. It was more difficult than she imagined it to be, seeing the background of New York, and it made her yearn for home.

Except that's not home now. This is, here with Noah and Leo and their life. 

Her thoughts are dominated by the past, the smiling people of friends and colleagues she left behind, the relationships she had built, and the faces of people who caused her pain.

There's the usual monsters who haunt her evenings, making her recoil from the shadows when she's still half asleep and not yet alert, but tonight, the evening pain is different.

It's more of a sadness, a longing or a need, for closure maybe.

She tries not to think of him often, but whenever she does, the picture of his face is now distorted, lost in memories of blue eyes, smooth skin, and dimples when he smiles.

She could curse Leo and his social media account setup because where the idea of seeing his face again was once lost, it's now just a click away.

What would he look like if he had one of those Facebook profiles? 

He would be aged now, a delicate wrinkle or two around the sharp blue of his eyes, she thinks. His hair is probably slightly balding, and she bets that when he laughs, the little indentations either side of his mouth soften his features. 

She smiles to herself as she lies in bed. It's funny how when she does allow herself to think of Elliot, he's always laughing, surrounded by his kids and his wife, and they are always somewhere fun and exciting. 

While she sniffles, cautiously wiping the stray tears from her eyes, Leo's snoring stops, and with a yawn he raises his hands in the air. "You didn't sleep much?" he mumbles, lazily as he slowly rolls towards her, his arms covering her as he places his head against her shoulder.

"No," she whispers, raspy, gently tapping her hand against his arm and being grateful for the darkness of Alaska that he can't see her tearful complexion. 

His head rises up to look at the clock, and she pulls the comforter over her face. 

"Shit. It's after 430!" he cries, jumping out of bed and struggling to get his legs into his jeans and flicking on the side light. "You should have woken me!"

Suddenly remembering he had to leave early, she sighs. "I'm sorry, Leo. I forgot to set the alarm."

Leaning over her to kiss her head, he whispers, "It's fine," before climbing back off the bed and throwing his sweatshirt over his head and adding, "If you moved in, I wouldn't have to rush home to the dogs so early."

She doesn't say anything, feigns a soft chuckle instead and keeps her back to him, sleepy all of a sudden. 

"I know, you need time," she hears him say. "Call me later okay?" 

She nods. 

"I love you," he whispers before the door clicks shut. 

4,331.4 miles away

“Maureen!” Kathleen screams, hurling her boisterous six-year-old nephews to the side and diving from the couch. “Maureen, Mo, Mo, Maureen, come quick!” she calls again in a flurry of overexcitement.

A fast-paced thud down multiple stairs and a red-faced, panting Maureen bounds round the corner, cleaning gloves over her hands, hair half-fallen, half in a twisty bun wearing ripped, old and oversized clothes that Kathleen hopes belongs to her sister's husband and earphones balanced around her neck. “What? What is it? The boys?” she asks frantically, scanning the room.

Ignoring the obvious panic over the clearly perfectly fine, fighting twins behind her, Kathleen mouths a lengthy, “Okayyyyyyy,” before drawing her finger absently up and down her sister's appearance. "We really need to talk about this, sometime," she says.

"Kathleen,'' Maureen bites impatiently. “What did you call me down here for?” 

“Okay, but seriously you really, really, really need to see who came up in my suggested mentions on Facebook,” Kathleen says, an obvious glimmer in her eye, and Maureen huffs out a disenchanted breath. 

“That's what you called me down here for? For Facebook?” she asks, removing her gloves from her hands and headphones from her shoulders before placing them on the bench and pouring herself an ice cold glass of water. 

“No, you don't get it. You really need to look at this profile picture.”

Kathleen skids the phone across the bench, and as it reaches Maureen's hand and she picks it up, Kathleen bites down on her lip, barely holding in her excitement.

Maureen's eyes widen as she pulls the phone closer to her face. “Oh my god,” she draws out, eyes popping towards Kathleen. “I thought that was Dad!” 

“I know, right?” 

“Wait,” Maureen says, looking at the profile picture again, zooming in and out, tilting the phone. “Is that Olivia ?”

“Yes!” Kathleen screams, jumping on the spot. “Yes it's Olivia!”

“No way!” Maureen exclaims in disbelief. “I can't believe it! Is that really her?”

Kathleen nods, her toothy grin watching Maureen continuously clicking and scrolling through the pictures. “Is that her… boyfriend? He looks just like Dad!” 

“I know!”

“Kath, there's more. Look there's a ton of pics of her with her boyfriend. She has a kid. You know she has a kid?” 

“Wait, no. I haven't got that far yet!” Kathleen shouts, holding her hand out for the phone. “Pass it back…Mo, stop! You're going to end up accidentally liking her pics or adding her or something!” 

“Fine, but we need to look through this together. Give me half hour to put the boys the bed.” 

“Okay, I’ll get the ice cream, and I’m gonna text Liz and Dickie.” 

Maureen shoots her an ‘Is this a good idea?’ look, but Kathleen shrugs it off, taking a screenshot of the page and sending it in the siblings chat. 

“No looking without me!” Maureen demands from the stairs, desperately wrangling her too excited to sleep kids together.

When Maureen returns downstairs, Kathleen is like a ticking time bomb, ready to open the Facebook page and browse the photos. “Finally!” 

“Okay shift over,” Mo says, leaning in close to Kathleen as she brings the page up, and they both scan over the image. “Olivia looks so good!” 

“Doesn't she?”

“I just- I can't get over how much this guy looks like Dad, the face, the body, the eyes, even the shape of his face!” 

“Yeah- he’s basically a younger version,” Kathleen quips, and they both giggle. “Go Olivia!” 

They pass over varying shots of 'young Elliot' and Olivia as they scroll through the limited photos that have been added to Olivia's page. 

“I don't think she's added any of these herself though. Look,” Maureen says pointing to the caption underneath. “ He has tagged her in them.” 

A smile spreads across Kathleen's face as she carefully clicks over his name and explores his profile. 

“Leonardo Archibald Matheson.” Kathleen feigns a posh accent. “CEO of Matheson Sporting Goods, Alaska.” 

Symbolizing cash, Mo rubs her thumb across her fingers and offers a low whistle.

“He posts so much, meals out, his store, his clothing apparel, everything,” she says as she scrolls her thumb down his timeline. “It's like he's an influencer for his brand. He has loads of followers too.”

“Any more of Olivia?” 

“Yeah, look there's this sweet one,” she says, showing an image of Olivia, sitting at the edge of a dock in the sunset, cradling a curly haired child in an all blue outfit. “That must be her kid,” Kathleen chimes in sweet voice. 

“Well,” Maureen adds, not getting carried away just yet. “We can only see the back of their head Kath. It might be his kid.”

“Suppose… but the back of this kid is in a lot of shots, and I dunno,” Kathleen shrugs, continuing to scroll. “This has Olivia written all over it.”

“What do you mean?” 

“You know what Dad’s like with our socials? Lock them down, don't post the kids, and all of that?”

“Ahh yeah,” Maureen clicks. “They both worked SVU, and I bet Olivia is the same. That is why we only get to see the back of the kid’s head. No kids on the internet and all that.” 

“Agreed,” Kathleen nods, not shifting her eyes from her phone. “The kid is definitely hers, or theirs? Maybe?”

“Nah,” Maureen shakes her head, leaning forward to take a tablespoon full of ice cream. “Look at the relationship status. Looks like he's backdated it since it’s a new profile and see, it's only been a year, and that kid there is at least ten.”

“Maybe it's Dad’s,” Kathleen jokes with her eyes wide, feigning surprise. “You know Olivia is why mom and Dad eventually did split up.” 

“Yeah, because he loved her not ‘cause he did anything with her,” Maureen argues, defensively.

“Hmmmm.”

“Shut up, Kathleen!” Mo yells, thumping her sister in the upper arm with a hearty jab. 

“Owww!” she yelps, smoothing her fingers over the reddened inflation of skin. “I was only joking!” 

Rolling her eyes, Maureen leans forward and takes more ice cream from the tub before her eyes widen and she almost chokes on the spoon. “Ahhh, Kath. Just wait until Dickie see’s this!” 

“OMG yes!” Kathleen giggles. “Remember the time he accused Olivia of sleeping with Dad? We could have so much fun with this.” 

Maureen snorts a laugh, throwing the ice cream spoon on the table and opening up the sibling WhatsApp group. “Dammit!” she twists her mouth. “We’re too late. He's already up to speed.” 

“So, guess we're gonna have to tell Dad?” 

Maureen pulls a disappointed face, the subject taking on a more serious tone.

“Looks that way.”

Chapter Text

"He'll be here any minute!" Kathleen calls out, leaning over the kitchen bench, an array of snacks before her. As she dips her carrot into the homemade hummus and bites down, it ricochets a crunch around the kitchen. "Hurry up guys!" she shouts with more urgency.  

Maureen, quick to roll her eyes as she rounds the corner, impatiently glances over her sister. "We would be ready if you helped, Kathleen," she says, over-arm throwing a kitchen towel so it bounces off her shoulder and onto the floor. “You see that pile of things, there, to the left of you?” she says insistently towards the clothes on the side. “If you would take them to the laundry room, it would be a great help.” 

Rolling her eyes back, Kathleen looks over at the pile of clothes and dramatically lifts and drops her shoulders before breathing out an exaggerated huff. 

"Seriously Kathleen, you're worse than the twins sometimes." 

"Hey!" Lizzie shouts entering the kitchen, shuffling up towards Kathleen and dipping into the carrots and dip alongside. "What did we do?" 

" My twins," Maureen grumbles, not in the mood for witty banter, throwing the pile of clothes on the floor into the basket and walking out uttering something about too many kids and siblings. 

The doorbell rings, its ‘ding dong’ chimes, and Kathleen almost falls over her own feet in an attempt to be the one to answer. Maybe she shouldn't be, but she's enjoying this far too much.

There's always been that soft spot for Olivia in her heart. When she was younger she hadn't realized the accidental strain her father’s partnership had put on her parent’s marriage, and by the time she was fully old enough to understand, the marriage was almost over. 

They had stayed together for the kids; they all knew that, even if Maureen refused to acknowledge it. It had been obvious.

Dickie had been vocal back then that their father had always been in love with Olivia, but when Elliot made the decision to stay with his family instead of pursuing something with her, Dickie had told Kathleen that maybe he was wrong. 

He wasn't wrong, Kathleen knew that, and more importantly she understood her fathers actions came from his nobility. 

As time grew on, knowing what he had and was continuing to sacrifice made her love him more, until she would notice the forced smile and hollow eyes, and it made her sad.

As basic a word sad is, it was perfect because every time she would look at him in those times, she could see he was missing something. Someone. 

After her Mom and Dad split up and moved back to New York, she knew he was secretly hoping to reconnect with Olivia again, and Kathleen had a sneaking suspicion that's why he took the job back with the NYPD.

In the months that followed, she watched him, painfully as he threw himself undercover. After the first case concluded, the kids all had a small intervention, told him to go see her, but he didn't and he went back undercover again.

When that one ended, he finally had listened, walked straight off the street and into SVU on some form of whimsical whim, expecting to see her sitting behind her old desk, and he hoped for the best. 

But, he didn't get the best; he got the worst, the crash of a lifetime. She wasn't only not in the police force anymore, but she wasn't even in New York. Kathleen's heart had dropped for him then, and when she had asked if he had any idea where she was, he just shook his head, kept his cards tightly against his chest, and told her that no one would give him any more information.

“Dad!” Kathleen screeches, opening the door and throwing her arms around his neck, wrapping them together, tight. 

He hugs her back, before stepping into the house and closing the door behind him. He rides his eyes over the room full of his four-fifths of his children. “Hey,” he says, assertively.

“Dad,” Dickie nods, flicking his phone off to silent.

“Hey Dad!” shouts Lizzie, carrying snacks through from the kitchen.

“Hi Dad!” Maureen calls, twisting her hair back up to the top of her head and taking a seat on the big chair. 

“What's going on?” Elliot asks, and he's greeted by wide eyes and surprising grins. 

“Dad,” begins Maureen, cautiously, leaning forward, hands clasped together in front of her. “We need to talk to you about-” 

“We found Olivia,” Kathleen blurts out. 

“Kathleen!” they draw out in synchronization, some arms in the air, Dickie shaking his head. 

“What?” she asks, looking around, shrugging her left shoulder, and dropping to a whisper “We did.” 

Elliot pales, his eyes fade to glossy. Sure, he was expecting some grand reveal but this must have thrown him. When the light finally returns to his eyes, he sniffs, cranes his neck to the side, and rolls his hand across the back of it.

“Dad, are you okay?” Kathleen asks with hesitation, and Maureen shoots a warning glare at her direction. “I’m sorry,” she says, her voice thinning. “I thought you would be excited to know, I didn't think…I didn’t think it was-”

“It's fine,” he says, letting out a sharp breath, the sound harshly expelling into the now silent room. “It's fine,” he says again, nodding towards Kathleen, aiming to appease her guilt. 

“I don't even know where to begin.” He says, shaking his head, attempting to steel himself, the information finally absorbing. “Olivia, you’ve been looking for her?”

Kathleen goes to open her mouth, but the sharp glance from Maureen, makes her bite her lip instead.

“Dad,” Maureen says, gently taking over. “We haven't been looking for Olivia but the other night, Kathleen and I were looking on Facebook...”

Elliot rolls his eyes, frowns at them but Maureen continues. “There's a section on there that recommends people you may have in common with people on your friends list. Kathleen is friends with John Munch, and that's why we think Olivia’s name popped up.”

“Olivia’s on Facebook?” he asks suspiciously.

“It sure looks that way,” Maureen replies, offering a small smile. 

Elliot nods, again, sighing. “And you all have been making friends with her, or whatever?”

“No!” Kathleen calls out, followed by other sharp answers of no from the other siblings. 

“So?” 

“So, we’re just letting you know,” Dickie says with a genuine smile. “Just in case you wanted to get in touch.”

“Get in touch?” He laughs without humor and the kids all wait for his next response, quietly because they understand he needs a minute. 

Elliot takes a seat on the gray fabric armchair and Kathleen straightens her shoulders, realizing that in her excitement she threw all of this onto him before he’d even managed to sit down.

“I'm sorry, Dad,” she apologizes again, hoping he understands the news was meant to bring him joy, not sadness.

He dismisses her sorrow, settles his back comfortably into the back of his chair. “So Olivia,” he whispers, voice thick. “What's she like?” 

Embracing each other's smiles, the siblings exchange glances, looking to see who will speak first. 

“She’s beautiful,” Lizzie offers, and the others nod in agreement. “Looks like she’s doing really well.”

“You should reach out Dad,” Dickie carefully nudges, and Elliot replies with a shaky laugh. 

“Seriously Dad,” Lizzie adds. “It will be really good for both of you. We know you've wanted to see her again for years, and trust me when I say this,” she explains, looking at the others for backup, and receiving a hum of agreement. “We would love to have Olivia back in all of our lives again.”

He watches each one for a few seconds, soaking in their reactions before he shakes his head and takes a deep breath. “I don't know if that's such a good idea,” he finally says. There's a finality locked into his words but also a bleak surrender, and it almost rips Kathleen's heart straight from her chest because finally, they have an opportunity to reconnect and hes refusing.

“Dad,” Kathleen cries with sympathy, tipping her head to her shoulder and she looks straight towards him, locks his eyes. She knows she looks pleading, and she is pleading because he needs this, he needs to see Olivia. 

Elliot dismisses her, not as affectionately this time, and when he stands up with a groan, she tries again. “Please, Dad. Just take a look, see what she looks like after all these years.” 

“It won’t do any good" he bites before looking at the faces of his children and softening "If she wanted anyone to know where she was, she would have left a forwarding address,” he says. 

“But maybe, she didn't think you would come looking for her?” Maureen asks and Elliot shrugs. 

“Why would she? I left her, without a word.”

In a large room full of people, its unusual for so many of them to be holding their breaths. 

“She has a kid ,” Kathleen blurts out, again , but this time the hesitation of her declaration is etched into the end of her sentence. No one tells her off this time. They just wait and watch, looking for Elliot's reaction as he sits back down in his chair. 

He has a striking look of pride stretched across his, partnered with a warm and sentimental smile. “She has a kid?” he asks, arching his eyebrow. “Good for her.” 

“You wanna see?” Kathleen asks, rhetorically, passing the phone over to the candid picture of Olivia sitting on the dock. 

“Wow,” he sighs, burying his eyes into the image. “She’s married?” 

“We don't know,” Maureen admits. 

Maureen has been cautious when she said it, but if anything, it brightens his smile.

“Is there any more…photographs?” he clarifies, before swiping across and figuring out for himself that there is.

<3 

“Noah!” Olivia calls ahead of her, the shortening silhouette of her boy and the shorter thick set frame of the Alaskan Malamute he has running alongside him are disappearing more and more into the darkness and yellowy glare of the street lamps. “Wait for us!” she calls, her voice echoing. 

“He’ll be fine, Olivia, let him run up ahead for a little bit,” Leo says, curling his hand into hers. She doesn't recoil from his movement but she doesn't embrace it either and her reluctance isn't lost on him. “What is going on with you?” he asks, pulling his hand away. 

“Nothing, I’m just anxious about him getting out of sight.” 

“Why?” he asks, abruptly, stomping alongside her as she quickens her pace, in a bid to catch up. “It's lit up, he’s with Bessie, and he's a stone’s throw from the restaurant. Sometimes Liv, you need to loosen the reigns.” 

She stops then, freezes a glance on him before blowing out a, “Wow.” 

“What? Am I wrong? The kid is getting older, Liv. He has limited freedom compared to the other kids around here. Do you not think he can run up the street alone?" 

She sighs, shaking her head. She knows he is right, knows that maybe she is a little overbearing with Noah. He does a lot, he has a rounded life, but she doesn't let him out of her sight too much. She knows that.

“Leo, you haven't seen the things I've seen,” she reminds him. “You haven't been in the dangers Noah and I,” she swallows thickly, “have been in.”

He takes her hand again, pulls her in to face him. “I know,” he soothes, squeezing one hand softly, bringing the other up to pull away the collar of her dark maroon snow jacket from her face in order to brush his thumb against her cheek. 

Olivia sighs, the street lights shine brightly off the snow, enhancing the brightness of the early afternoon, and the aroma of chocolate and cinnamon and gingerbread fills the air around them.

Leo claims to know, but he doesn't; she can't tell him about the dangers they've been in. He has asked, to his credit. The markings on her body were hard to miss, and when he had finally plucked up the courage to ask her, she had taken a deep breath and told him, ‘it was another life’.

A few months later, he tried again, but she refused to reveal, so he let her keep her secret private.

Noah jumps up and down in the shadows ahead, waving his arms while Bessie barks alongside him. “On our way!” Olivia shouts, hastily making her way closer towards him.

“Liv!” Leo calls, grasping her arm, pulling her back and stopping her in her tracks. “I’m worried about us .”

She briefly meets his gaze, smiles understandingly before whispering, “I know you are, I'm sorry but you dont need to be” she hesitates for a moment, watches his unease but then politely walks on before this conversation can grow.

“You do this all the time!” he calls after her. “Shutting me down, keeping me out of whatever it is that's going on inside of your head!”

He’s stopped walking as close to her, the breeze is cooler with the distance he has created, but his crunching footsteps in the snow let her know he's still at least there.

She turns then, sends a slow smile. It's all she can do because she has no words, no words that he wants to hear anyway, so instead she sighs, meets his eyes. “We need to talk,” she admits. “But not tonight?” 

"Okay Olivia," he says with a brittle sigh, shaking his head incredulously. 

"Leo, please,"

“Not tonight?” he scoffs, turning to leave before doubling back. “You know what Olivia, you and Noah go for dinner, I'm gonna head home.”

“Leo, come on.” 

“No, Olivia. Seriously. Just go without me,” he says, before blowing a sharp whistle through the air and watching the head of his dog snap around to run towards him, followed closely by Noah.

"Don't do this,” she urges, reaching for him again but he pulls away. "Leo, please", she mutters under her breath, looking back over her shoulder to see Noah closing in.

Leo fidgets on his feet, his irritation rising. People are passing by, looking in on them, and Olivia scans them, sending a nod and a smile to avoid the awkwardness.

“Liv. I can't do this!” he says, voice rising. “I can't figure you out. I have no idea what you want.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” she softly hushes him, looking back to the people around her.

“I want to be with you Olivia, but you're making it so damn difficult.”

“People are looking,'' she whispers, catching eyes with Maya from the bakery and exchanging a polite smile and nod.

Olivia’s smile is through gritted teeth. Maya is someone who Olivia never clicked with when moving here. She was one of the women who had an expressed interest in Leo and thus has only ever spoken to Olivia to play sweet in front of Leo. She always appears to be around whenever Olivia and Leo have some sort of semi-public altercation and lately? That's a lot. 

Finally looking back at Leo, she takes in his arched eyebrows, the yellow glow from the street lamps illuminating the annoyance in his face, and he stands with his hands on hips, shaking his head, disbelief - written all over him.

“I love how much you care about others around you. Really nice, Olivia,” he hisses with sarcasm.

She doesn't speak, doesn't know what to say. She wishes she could tell him what he wants to hear, that she wants to move in with him, she loves him, but she can't. She should love him, she knows that, but there's something holding her back.

Leo throws his arms into the air. “That's it. I'm done for tonight. See you tomorrow.”  

“Leo, please. You can't just leave. Noah will wonder what's happening.”

He spins around on his boot, snow splitting around it, dog rushing past her, faithful to its owner. 

“You'll think of something to say,” he spits, footsteps crumpling into the snow as he walks away.

“Mom?” Noah says from behind her, his eyes narrowed, expression surprised.  

“Just give me a couple of minutes, sweet boy. You head into the restaurant. Tell Otto I won't be long.”

One benefit to her lack of cooking is that the local restaurant owner has become a friend, and if she ever needs to send Noah anywhere for dinner, she knows she can trust Otto.

Noah nods and she watches as he rushes back up the road and in through the doors. 

Once he's inside and flashes a thumbs up from the window seat, Olivia turns behind her, rushes after Leo. Bessie notices Olivia is following first, and she stops, waits, tongue hanging out and black and white fur moving up and down in the cool air. 

“I’m sorry!” Olivia shouts after him. “You make me happy, I feel safe with you, and I enjoy –"

“So what is it?” he asks, angry and upset, not interested in hearing the pleasantries.

“I don't know,” she answers honestly. 

“You realize you have shared barely any of your life with me? I've never pushed you, never insisted you share things you hold as a secret because I thought one day when the time was right, you would open up to me.”

She hangs her head low, the chill becoming consuming. “You know the good parts,” she tells him.

“But it's not about the good parts. It's about knowing all of you, knowing who you are.”

“I know,” she answers but doesn't offer anymore. 

He places his hand against his chest. There's a layer of material to his thick winter coat, but she knows the parts of skin he's gesturing to. “These, Olivia,” he taps again drawing his hand over all the upper positions of where she has scars. “You said you would tell me what happened to you one day, but you haven't. Do you not trust me?”

“I trust you,” she tells him, immediately and barely above a whisper before sighing regretfully. “But I can't tell you that, Leo.”

He nods, despondent. “Okay” he says, his mouth twisting to the side. “Come find me when you figure out what you want, Olivia.”

Hanging her head low, she watches him walk away, man and dog disappearing until they become shadows in the darkness. 

<3 

“I have no idea how you managed to talk me into this,” Elliot says, kissing Kathleen on the cheek before gripping the handle of the bag between his feet. 

Kathleen had driven in a hurried craze, almost sent him through the windscreen when she hurled the brakes on at the airport entrance and now she sits jabbing his shoulder, pushing him out the car. He's pleased really, with how eager she is for him. 

Hes also pleased and pretty lucky that she even brought the car to a stop before throwing him out.

“It's going to be great, Dad,” Kathleen says, pointing towards the airport entrance. “But you’re going to miss your flight.”

He nods, laughing at the insistence of his daughter, and as he steps out of the car and rests his hand on the roof to look back at her, he smiles. “Thank you for this, Kathleen.”

“Thank me when you get her back. Now go!” Kathleen chuckles. 

“Okay, bye,” he says, tapping on the roof, for her to drive away. 

He laughs to himself as the sound of airplanes taking off close by soar around him and he shakes his head, Get her back, Kathleen had said. 

As if Olivia was ever his to lose in the first place.

Chapter Text

Olivia rolls over in bed; it's late morning, not that she could tell by glancing over at her window. In the wintertime, whenever the sun barely breaks the horizon, it casts a pinkish glow into the air, and when it contrasts against the snow, it creates the most beautiful sight.

She leans towards the nightstand, heart full with the scene, and taps her hand across the wood until she feels her phone below her palm. Picking it up, she falls back into the pillow, opening up the home screen.

No messages.

No ‘Good Morning’ greeting from Leo. No ‘Have a nice day’ or ‘Catch you later.’

Nothing.

Taking a deep breath, she closes her eyes. There's part of her that wants to put down her phone, leave Leo stewing in his sulk for longer because there's part of her that doesn’t think she will ever be able to give him what he wants. Her forearm covers her eyes as she drops her phone into the soft material of the teddy bear fleece comforter. 

She can't just ignore him, she thinks, as she lays there in a whole other part of the country, thousands of miles away from her old life and having achieved what she set out to; creating a new life for her and Noah.

Her heart wasn't in it. It wasn't fully into Leo, in her new job, in freezing cold Alaska. It was trapped, stuck in New York City, in her old life that she fled from because it was filled with heartache and fear and real life threatening danger. Yet here she is, laying in a bed, the safest position she’s ever been in since she was a rookie and her stupid, unsettled heart in pining for a life back home.

‘It's not fair,’ she tells herself. It's not fair to Noah or Leo or herself to not keep trying, to not keep trying to make this thing work here because when she packed her life in boxes, gave up her apartment, said goodbye to her friends, she hedged everything on this life being the one they deserve.

So far it was. Leo is a good man, Noah is thriving, and her job is stable.

Maybe she's not used to this? Stability and long term commitment that is, and it's not as if they've ever been signature statements of her life previously. Sure, she moved in with Brian for a bit, attempted something that resembled the beginnings of a relationship with Ed Tucker before she left, but neither of those worked out.

She had wondered, over the years, if she would find the fire with anyone. She’d found it once, but it was forbidden and ended painfully so she put it to the back of her mind and attempted to move forward.  If that intense liking, burning love, the kind of love that makes both individuals feel warm on a cold day was something she would ever experience, or was this it?

Is living comfortably and with security the limitations of love she could give and receive.

In a sigh, Olivia shuffles up to the headboard to rest her back. Perhaps another Zoom call with Dr Lindstrom was in order? It had been some time since she had last reached out, and maybe he might be able to settle her anxieties. But, she remembers, he wasn't that approving of her flippant decision to move to Alaska, and the last memory she has of leaving his office is not letting the door hit her on her way out. So, calling Dr Lindstrom's out.

Reaching down her phone, Olivia gives her head a physical wobble. Taps on the picture of Leo and types a very simple, slightly awkward, ‘Hi’.

The little dots in the bubble linger on her screen for a few seconds before disappearing entirely, and she rolls her eyes. ‘Dinner tonight?" she types, before quickly adding, ‘I’ll cook’.

'Yes’, immediately appears, followed by, ‘but do you have to cook for us?' Lol’.

She rolls her eyes, swings her legs around to get out of bed, and sends a quick, light-hearted message that tells him to be grateful that she's even offering to cook.

<3

As Elliot checks his watch, the time eagerly displays how he still has another hour to go before landing. He breathes deeply, recalling the last flight, when he had to squeeze into an aisle seat for five hours and 29 minutes. He still doesn't think his joints have recovered. Olivia couldn't have moved somewhere closer, say Florida; one flight, nice weather. But no, she chose Alaska, and he can't wait to ask her what that decision was all about when he finally sees her.

Shaking his head, he takes a sip from his beer bottle and carefully places it on the tray in front of him. Nestling his head into the headrest, he attempts in every way to get comfortable; rolling his shoulders back, adjusting his lower back, stretching out his legs, until he gives up. He lets out an exasperated breath as he leans forward instead, draws his fingers back and forth over his cramped, aching knees. They sure seize up a lot quicker these days.

The anxiety is bubbling up inside of him, and he blows out another strained breath, the images of Olivia’s sweet smile from his daughter's phone are circulating in his head, and suddenly the fear of rejection is real. If she does reject him, ask him to leave, then he knows it's his doing; the only reason he even needs to have a reunion with Olivia is because he disappeared out of her life all those years ago.

A kindly looking woman sitting beside him shuffles in her seat; her movements break him from his reverie, and he offers her an apologetic smile for any disturbances his obvious discomfort has caused.

She nods, looking over him, sympathy in her warm brown eyes, “You okay?” she asks, with a smile. “You seem a little anxious.”

Swallowing, he takes a minute to think of the appropriate answer, one that's suitable to tell a random stranger on a plane. As he considers his answer and looks over this woman. There's something about her that brings him ease. Of course, he has never met her before, but the way she smiles and the sound of her voice remind him of Ayanna, and it makes him think of when he asked his sergeant for a leave of absence from work.

She’d arched her eyebrows, cast him a suspicious smile, and questioned him where he was going. He had chuckled awkwardly, said he was going to visit an old friend, and she had narrowed her eyes, kept the authority in her voice and told him pointedly, that he wasn’t to fuck this up.

"Yeah," he replies, clearing his throat to the woman next to him, who smiles warmly.

She nods, accepting his answer before twisting a little to face him. "So, do you have something exciting happening in Alaska?" she asks politely, creating small talk.

He huffs out a laugh, rubs his hand over the back of his neck hesitantly. “I suppose you could say that. I’m going to see...” he pauses, considers the wording of the title. “An old friend,” he settles on. There are a multitude of different terms, descriptions, and meanings of what Olivia Benson is to Elliot Stabler, but for now he thinks even friends may be stretching it.

The Ayanna look-alike eyes him suspiciously, raising an eyebrow and chuckling at his awkward response, before nodding to the flight attendant for another drink. “You want one?” she turns and asks and when Elliot shakes his head she smiles again.

"How about you?" he inquires, watching the blue uniformed attendant dropping three ice cubes into a plastic tumbler and handing over a miniature bottle of top shelf liquor. 

"Business," she says, pouring in her drink and taking a sip. "Hopefully flying straight in and out again." Her gaze catches the ring finger on his right hand before she asks, "Is your friend a good friend?"

He chuckles at how obvious her assumption is and how transparent he appears. "Well, we used to be," he says, smiling. “The relationship isn't as good as it once was." He pauses. "I messed up with her years ago," he concludes. 

“I see,” she smiles back, sympathizing. “Do you love her?"

"I always loved her," he says slightly clumsily, pulling a face, realizing that this was the first time he has said those words to a stranger on an airplane when he hadn't spoken to Olivia in over a decade.

"So, what's the problem?" she asks as he takes a sip from his bottle, gently shaking it to see how much is left.

"It's complicated," he finally sighs.

"She moved on, huh?"

"Yeah," he replies, despondent and finishing off the bottle of his drink. “Seems that way.”

"So, what are you gonna do? You gonna fight for her or what? What's your plan?"

He laughs so loudly that people around him look back at him, and he bobs his head, smiling at the miserable elderly woman two seats ahead as she shakes her head in disapproval, making sure Elliot understands he has disrupted her novel reading. When she finally looks away and drops her scornful eye lock he rolls his eyes, turning back his attention to his new friend.

"She wouldn't like that," he begins, almost nostalgic. "She deserves to be fought for, she probably wants it too, but she's too stubborn.” He smiles, looking down at his watch. “She's gonna hate that I'm just showing up out of the blue."

"You think she'll send you home?"

"Without a shadow of a doubt," he chuckles, nervously. "Seriously though." He fastens his seatbelt to the sign above. "I don't know how she'll be. I don't know if I deserve her to even say hello, let alone have her let me fight for her."

His new friend sighs, bites back a small groan, and taps him sympathetically on the arm. "Well, you can only do what you can do," she tells him.

"Yeah," he agrees, flushed with nerves.

<3

This part of town on a Thursday afternoon is always deserted. She doesn't know what it is about Thursdays that stop people from visiting but right now, as she drives in, balancing her phone between her shoulder and her ear, she breathes a sigh of relief as she spins the car into a space.

"I hope you're not driving while on the phone," Leo scolds and she rolls her eyes.

"You should know better."

"I'm not driving anymore, I'm parked," she tells him, flipping the mirror down and tucking a stray hair behind her ear. Her lipstick has faded, and as she pulls the cosmetic out of her pocket and tops it up, she admires the natural color. 

“So, how long will you be?” he asks through the phone and she shrugs, stepping out the truck, closing the door behind her and walking towards the entrance of the grocery store.

“Twenty minutes, maybe?” 

“Okay. Looking forward to seeing you.”

“You too,” she smiles, hanging up the phone and loitering towards the grocery store owned by Maya.

In her mid-thirties, Maya is a tall, lean woman who is annoyingly a huge fan of Leo's. Olivia met her when she moved here, and she was one of the first women who couldn't wait to eagerly tell her how lucky she was when she began dating Leo.

As Olivia enters the door and it rings its alert, the blonde, overly-smiley woman snaps her head around to the entrance. "Olivia,” she calls, drawing out the a, and Olivia smiles, swallowing her grit.

"Hello, Maya."

"How are you?" Maya asks, that toothy bright smile, wider and more gleeful than usual.

"Good, thanks." She wants to pass her by, get out of this awful false small talk, but she can't be rude, so she hurries her tone, pointing to the deeper interior of the store. "Sorry, I have to be quick."

"Mhmm," Maya nods, pursuing Olivia's strides to the back of the store.

"So," she says, hot on Olivia's tail, and it's taking everything in her not to turn around and demand the woman to just allow her to grocery shop in peace,  but she can't because it is a small town, and small towns gossip, and she already is the subject of gossip for dating a slightly younger man.   

"So," Olivia prompts, putting the homemade honey jar into the basket and walking to the next item on her list.

Maya shrugs, her best false look of concern across her face. "You know I heard you and Leo the other night?"

No shit, Sherlock.

"I just want you to know that I'm so sorry you two are having problems."

"Problems?" Olivia bluffs and Maya looks smug, lifting one shoulder as she does that painful, patronizing, toothy smile, again.

"Well, all I'm saying is that I'm here…for both of you.” she adds, as a parting comment before leaving Olivia standing, gritting her teeth and watching Maya walk towards the front of the store to greet more guests.

She hates this place, sometimes.

Cursing under her breath, she hastily throws the last remaining items into her basket before bracing herself and heading to the front of the store. 

At the checkout, Olivia's polite forced smile is greeted by Maya's enthusiastic false smile, and the thought of another conversation with her is unbearable. So rather than engage in more pointless small talk, she focuses her attention elsewhere while Maya bags her things. 

The snow is falling again, and the air appears misty. It's not quite dark yet, which is a change for an early afternoon here. The street lamps are on, not that they ever really go off, and as she taps her card to the contactless machine, she has to double look through the window.

What is Leo doing here? Checking her watch she notes he should still be in his store on either side of town and flips her glasses from the top of her head over her eyes so she can clearly see his reaction when she gestures her arms out to wordlessly ask what he's doing.

But, he's gone when she looks back.

"Thanks, Maya," she says, picking up the brown bag and balancing it on the crux of her left arm.

She takes her phone out of her pocket on her right and begins to type.

• Olivia - I thought you weren't finishing until 4?

• Leo - I'm not?

• Olivia - I just saw you at the store?

• Leo - thinking of me, are you?

• Olivia - Huh?

• Leo - I haven't left my store all day, Olivia.

• Olivia - Oh OK, I must be going mad.

• Leo - Or you just really want to see me.

She rolls her eyes, drops the phone to the bottom of the bag, and heads out into the mist and bitter cold. She shuffles across the ice, brown grocery bags tucked into her arms as she tries to hit the button on her key fob to ding open the trunk.

The bitter weather is picking up around her; the paper of the bags in her arms rustle and flap against the howling of the wind, and as she haphazardly drops them into the trunk and closes it behind her, she spins around glancing at the position of the ghost she saw earlier.

She blinks twice, narrows her eyes, and pales.

“Liv,” a voice says, loud and strangled battling against the weather.

The breath rushes out of her, gets swept up with the wind. The icy tears immediately fall from her eyes, and the ghost comes closer into sight; they both freeze.

Pain and fear are etched into his face, and he's statuesque, waiting for her permission to move, to speak, to blink.

Chapter Text

The bitter weather is picking up around her, the paper of the bags in her arms rustle and flap against the howling of the wind and as she haphazardly drops them into the trunk and closes it behind her she spins around glancing at the position of the ghost she saw earlier. 

She blinks twice, narrows her eyes, and pales. 

“Liv,” a voice says, loud and strangled battling against the weather. 

The breath rushes out of her, gets swept up with the wind, the icy tears immediately fall from her eyes and the ghost comes closer into sight; they both freeze. 

Pain and fear are etched into his face, he's statuesque as if he is waiting for her permission to move, to speak, to blink.

<3

But she doesn't, she doesn't give her permission to him, she doesn't speak, she doesn't move, she stands still, completely motionless as if lost entirely. Until he pushes forward, the few people standing ahead of him part his way, casting an eye on the obvious reunion and Olivia takes a desperate step backward. 

Then she takes two steps, three would be four except the lumbar of her back thuds against the truck and the impact startles her, making her jump. 

"Liv," he says again, his voice stronger this time but she can't hear it, her eyes have watched his lips through the blur of snowfall and lack of distance glasses but the sound from inside of her chest is racing so loud she can hear it beating in her ears, it's overwhelming and piercing and she really just needs to take a minute, to breathe. 

Turning her back, she stretches her hands against the truck, allowing it to take her weight while she calms herself, her lungs are burning with dry air and shock as she catches her pale, clammy expression in the reflection of her trunk. She closes her eyes, takes slow breaths. 

She must be going mad. Right?  That's the only logical explanation for seeing and hearing her old partner in the middle of town. Apparently, it's a thing, sudden madness, a madness that is brought on when the body isn't used to the extreme cold; people used to joke about it when she first arrived and it had been something to laugh off... until now. Pull yourself together, Olivia,  she breathes, rolling her shoulders back and shaking her head at the absolute absurdity of what's going on in her head right now. 

Pressing the button on her trunk, she waits for it to rise to the top, and as it does, she peers inside the dark, almost empty space, and watches a single apple escape from the bag she placed inside only moments ago roll into the front of her.

“You always did like apples,” a voice from behind says and it startles her, again. The familiar resonance, the relaxation of his sentence, and the pacing of his words are all as clear as day now, exactly how she remembers it.  

"Elliot" she whispers, shaking her head, still facing into the trunk of the truck, her fingers wrapping tightly around the edge to steady herself. 

'I can't do this,' she thinks to herself, knowing all too well how painful it is to envision him there, only for her to finally open her eyes to nothing but air, hopelessness, and disappointment. 

Inhaling deeply, Olivia closes her eyes, takes in the sounds of the townspeople chatting and walking about behind her, then exhales.

Calmed, she stands up straight and brushes her fingertips under her eyes. There are no tears but it's a precautionary motion that helps her feel more composed, somehow more in control and she takes her time to turn around, carefully.

The immediate gasp she emits is vocal and it makes Elliot’s head snap up and focus on her, he’s scanning her eyes, her face for any indication as to how she receives his summons but she can't meet those rich blue eyes, not yet. She's too busy stifling her dry sobs and attempting to control the trembling in her wrists because he’s here. Elliot Stabler is here, in front of her. 

She’s drawing her eyes over him, taking everything in, his older features, his lack of hair, his stronger, tighter physique that she can notice even when wrapped up for winter and when she finally locks eyes with him he smiles. A tight but reassuring smile and it's too much, too much too quick and she steals her glance away, focusing instead on the powdery white gathered snow pile behind him from this afternoon's plow.  

“Liv,” he says again and she shakes her head solemnly. 

“I can't do this,  Elliot ” she whispers, still shaking her head, searching her deep pockets to retrieve the keys she’d dropped in earlier. Flustering, she walks to the driver's side,  the damn shakes  prohibiting her from pressing the button that will safely and securely allow her to be inside her truck and behind the wheel. 

It won't open, and she presses it furiously over and over again, desperate to get away from here. To run. 

“Olivia,” he says, strangled, slightly alien now “Please just look at me, talk to me, even if just for a little bit” 

His voice, his words, being here, Alaska, it's all too much and she slams her hand into the steel of the black pickup in frustration, she watches his reaction in the reflection, the loud thud making him wince behind her. 

The regret’s instant, her hand doesn't hurt but she stretches it out anyway, curling her fingers back into the palm of her hand and out again before delicately, pressing it into the cool, window glass to brace herself before turning back to face him. 

And when she does, He smiles that friendly boyish grin just like he did all those years ago when she would arrive for work and sit at her desk, he was always there early, waiting for her, two cups next to him.  She'd sit opposite, he would smile this exact same smile, pass her a favorite hot drink and it was the greeting to almost every morning.  

How can he smile like that as if no time has passed, as if he hadn't disappeared from her life for all these years? The simple pleasantry makes her breath sputter, more images of their past flash before her and she tells him “I can't do this” in the faintest of whispers before turning away, opening the car door, and sliding herself behind the wheel. 

 The windscreen is covered in snowdrops, and the wipers are frantically wiping from side to side as she tries to focus through the patches of clear view. Hitting the turn signal and pulling away, the blinkers make their ticking sound as she listens to the tires skid from worn-down ice to fresh snow. 

 
The urge to glance in the rear-view lasts not even a second before she sees him. Still there, in the same position, he was moments ago, still, probably cold, the hood is up on his coat now and he's watching her drive away. 

There's a tightness in her chest, she's torn between fury, sadness, and wanting to wrap her arms around his neck and brush her cheek against his like she did many years ago but it's difficult to trust, to trust him, herself, her own emotions. She had thought one day he may show up, and wondered how the walls she had built up would withstand the siege that is Elliot Stabler but each time when this scenario played out in her head she had welcomed his return and was grateful for his reappearance. But now? The anger bubbling up inside of her is all too consuming. 

Facing the road ahead she tries to tune out the saddened image of him, standing there, desperately wanting to speak to her. She could never imagine ever driving away from him. No matter what he’s done or where her head was she would never drive away from him. Surely, she can't just leave him there? 

Her foot leaves the accelerator and lingers over the brake for a short second before finding its way back to drive. 

She’s concentrating so hard on the road ahead that she hasn't even noticed how tightly she's gripping the wheel until she sees the white blanching stretched across her knuckles. Why is she running away? 

She's never fled from things that frightened her before, she faced all of them head-on. Okay, except for escaping to Alaska.

Maybe Alaska has softened her?

But maybe, he isn't even here for her? she tells herself, t here could be several reasons he's here, an old case, a new threat,  it's not as if that would be uncommon,  it could even be bad news. 

“Dammit” she shouts aloud, hitting her fist onto the steering wheel before veering off and bringing the truck to an abrupt stop at the side of the road.

Her eyes are full and swollen; threatening to spill at any moment. She needs to compose herself, protect herself, and not let her mind run away with her. 

Elliot Stabler is in this specific tiny town in Alaska, after more than a decade. Even though she doubts he'd need protection, she can't leave him standing roadside in a place he doesn't know. 

Inhaling deeply, she squeezes her eyes closed before exhaling a slow long breath; practicing her calming exercises. Bobbing her head up to look into the rear-view mirror she curses at her red, stinging eyes and shadowy complexion. There's a smudge of mascara below her bottom lashline and as she draws her finger across the thin skin to blend out the dark line she listens to her voice inside of her head, repeating the same mantra she's been telling herself for years ‘you’ve got this.' 'You can do this.'

Satisfied with masking the emotion on her face, she puts the car back into drive, spins the wheel and subsequent tires across the crunch of ice, and moves back towards where she left him. 

The engine roars as it makes its short journey and Elliot turns to look at the vehicle before it rolls to stop. 

“Get in” she shouts over the road, void of familiarity and emotion as she lowers her window down. 

He stares at her unfocused briefly and when she arches her brows he nods, casting a thankful smile before obeying and moving around to the passenger side. Elliot shuffles into the seat beside her but she doesn't face him, her attention is firmly set ahead and when he closes the door and buckles up, she pulls away again. 

 There's a tense silence as she drives. Her elbow is resting on the window ledge, her forearm holding her head, fingers parted through her hair and all the while he's still, the air around them as tense as his body and when her eyes wander to look at him he catches her with a glimmer of hope. 

“Olivia” he tries but she cuts him off with the wave of her hand, twists her mouth to the side, eyes focused on the road. 

“Not yet, wait until I've parked” 

“Okay,” he nods, settling into his seat and cautiously asking, “where are we going?” 

“Just along this road, there won't be anyone around so it should give us some time to talk,” she replies, still trying not to look at him.

The truck turns away from the lighted area of town and thunders down a plowed road, they pass by tall, looming snow-topped trees and fallen branches that have been cast aside to protect passing vehicles. Frozen pools of water that have broken away from the banks of the lake are swallowing the earth at the sides and in the daytime, without the haze, when journeying on this road the water looks as though it has trickled a perfect line from the top of the glaciers in the distance. 

Amidst the snowy woodland, there are no animals moving, no birds singing, no things rustling beneath the snowy green. Just peace and quiet. 

There's a sign ahead advertising the national park, it's only noticeable because someone at some point in the last few hours has finger-swept the snow away to reveal the words and the distinct eagle image that represents this area.   As they pull into the park the hum of the engine softens, the bright illumination from the headlights shines around them, and Olivia nods, grateful that this place is deserted. Some blue glow lights are lighting up either side of the hiking trail ahead of their space and Olivia stops the car, levers the hook underneath her seat, and pushes her chair back to give herself room to twist her body and finally face him. 

Locking her harsh gaze into his softened one she asks him abruptly 

“Why are you here, Elliot?” 

He looks surprised as if he expected some sort of alternative reunion and it makes the bubbling anger more widespread inside of her.   

Eventually swallowing, he sighs, rubbing his hands together in front of him, using it as a distraction. 

“I’m sorry I just showed up here,” he says, watching his fingers glide over each other “I was afraid that if I called or if you knew I was coming, you wouldn't -” 

“Wouldn't what, Elliot? Wouldn't want to see you?” She interrupts and he nods, pushing his hands apart, leaning into the backrest. 

“Yes” 

She frowns, the sadness in his voice mimics the feeling she holds in her heart and she hides her face and turns it to look into the woodland because although she would never have wanted to turn him away, her emotions are not exactly playing ball right now. 

“I have some explaining to do, huh?” he half smiles, attempting lightness. 

There's a smile somewhere inside of her, she knows there is but for now she can't surface it and Elliot must pick up on that “I’m sorry Liv” he says and she nods. “I miss you” he continues, carefully. His eyes are burning into the back of her head but she still cant face him “It would be nice if we could spend some time together. Do something neither of us has ever been good at...and talk?” 

“I don't know what you want from me, Elliot.” she bites “Why now? You didn't return my calls, you never reached out, you never came back to New York when I lived there but yet you travel all the way here to Alaska?” 

Elliot smiles, a false and disappointed smile “I know, I deserve that” he agrees “and if you want nothing to do with me now, I’ll understand but -” he leans closer towards her “Can you please give me one opportunity to apologize and to explain” 

She bites her lip, her mouth and back of her throat dry and coarse. 

“You left me Elliot.” she tells him dryly “You left” she whispers, hiding her face and looking at the trail that's brightly lit up from the beam of the headlights. 

His hand reaches towards hers but she pulls it away, retracts it against her hip and his face shows immediate sadness “I’m sorry.” he whispers, deep and thick “I’m sorry Olivia, I know I did. Trust me I know, I knew then too, the pain I would have been causing and the longer I waited the harder it became to reach out”  

“So now you've what? Had an epiphany? Want to right all the wrongs in your life?” 

“Olivia, please” 

She coughs, sniffles, pads her fingertips at the tears forming in the corner of her eyes “what do you want from me?” 

He smiles with compassion, and sincerity and she wishes she could kick her stubborn mindset clean out of her head sometimes because she knows this is what she wants, it's what she's always wanted, Elliot back in her life, but her head  or her heart  won't comply and she knows her words are pushing him away. 

“Honestly?” he asks and she nods “I want my best friend back, I want a chance to be a part of your life again, however small that part may be” 

She doesn't answer, she can't, she’d sooner laugh. Elliot Stabler discussing feelings just adds even more confusion to this incomprehensible day.   

“You have a son?” Elliot asks, deflecting and her head tilts towards him and she feels herself soften. There's a natural warmth flushed to her skin as she thinks of her curly-haired, whirlwind of a child. 

“I do,” 

“How old is he?” Elliot prompts “ten?” 

“Nine” she confirms, eyeing him suspiciously. 

He laughs, a sound that may have aged acoustically but still resonates the same. “Facebook,” he says, confirming her unspoken question. 

“Facebook” she repeats, rolling her eyes. Damn Leo and his social media. 

Leo. she suddenly remembers, he will be wondering where she is. She had promised to make dinner and as she glances at the clock on the car computer, watching it tick over to the next minute she panics. 

“I need to go” she blurts out, pulling her seat closer to the wheel again and putting it into drive. 

Elliot looks at her in surprise, looks like his world just shattered around him but still, he forces a smile, nods his head, and looks out of the passenger window. If she's ever seen the hope completely wash out of a man, it's now but she doesn't know how to work this, she needs some time to think. 

They drive in silence again, she's playing out her options in her head, Could she even send him away now? And if she does will she regret it? But what if he stays, and what if talking to him upsets this life she has now? What if this life she has fought tooth and nail to build for herself and Noah is ripped away and she ends up no longer having any of this… what if she loses Elliot again? 

Elliot’s hand reaches over to rest on top of hers, the surprising soft touch of his rough hands makes her breath hitch but she doesn't pull away this time. 

“Are you happy, Olivia?” 

There's no hiding the weakness in her voice "Yes" she hitches.

“Do you love him?” 

She pulls her hand away, and sighs loudly, the soft weak tempo to her voice is replaced with bitter anger again “Do I love him?” she hisses “Really Elliot? Do I love him?” she takes her eyes off the road, stares at his profile “you don't know him, you don't know  me . Why would that be one of the first questions you ask?” 

“Do I love him?” she mockingly mumbles under her breath and he rolls his eyes, sighs, and turns away from her piercing stare “I'm just making sure you're happy Olivia '' he says quietly “that's all I want and if he makes you happy and you love him and you're going to spend the rest of your life in  Alaska  then I will support you.” 

She hits the brakes, and their bodies shift forward with the abrupt movement “what the hell does that mean?” she bites “support me? spend the rest of my life here? I live here, Elliot.” 

Elliot's puff of air and silent shrug just adds fuel to the fire and when she opens her mouth to speak, he gets in there first  “Okay, support was the wrong word, fair enough” he agrees “but really, Alaska?” he asks, in a bitter tone “you hate the cold.”

“You don't know anything about me, anymore,” she tells him again, furious. 

But he shakes his head “I don't want to fight with you, I want you to talk to you. You say I don't know you anymore, and rightly, you’re hurt by that. I am too but yet, you're not willing to talk to me properly Olivia. At least meet me again? Let me explain” 

“Get out” she insists, physically shaking. “Get out” she repeats noticing he isn't moving a god damned muscle “Get out and go home Elliot, you don't need to worry about my  happiness ” 

He grits his teeth before reluctantly opening the door and looking back at her. “I'm sorry, I've said the wrong things, Olivia” 

“Go home, Elliot. Please go home, forget I was on Facebook, and forget you came here for me” The words leave a bitter taste in her mouth, she doesn't mean them, she knows she will regret them. 

When he swings his legs out, she knows she has gone too far. She wishes he would say something, anything to calm her down, but he can't. Even if he did, she isn't ready to hear what he has to say right now. She may never be. 

“I'm not going home, Olivia. Come find me when you're ready,” he says with insistence and she twists her face towards him. Lifting himself out of the car, he goes to shut the door but then reopens it again so he can look at her with that stupid smirk on his face that she used to love “your man” he says “looks a bit like me, don't you think?” he winks, shutting the door behind him with a harsh push that judders through the truck and she blows out an immediate humourless laugh.  

"Top form, as usual, Elliott" she mutters to herself before starting the car again, “Asshole” she whispers as she drives past him, stomping his way back into town. Thankfully they’re not too far from street lights, a few strides and he’ll be back in the safety of a semi-bustling village so she guilt-free leaves him there, letting the truck kick up the snow in her wake as she flies past him. 

His words are playing on her mind all the drive home. There's truth to his accusations and she knows it. She’s content, and comfortable, Leo makes her smile, he makes her feel special and he has time for Noah. There were doubts before Elliot called her out, doubts about whether she was forcing and willing herself to be happy so that she wouldn't be lonely but she’d never truly felt those doubts run true until after all of these years he could sit side by side in a car with her and see straight through her. 

Pulling the truck to a stop on her driveway she falls back into the seat, looking over the three-bed detached house she bought for her and Noah with her NYPD pension. The Led strip lights she had Leo install around the pane of Noah’s bedroom window are flashing between his favorite colors, lighting up the street and she smiles. If she’d had these decades ago then Elliot would have had no problem asking her to blink her lights. 

She sighs, shakes the thoughts off, gets out of the car, gathers the groceries, picks up the runaway apple, and heads inside. 

Leo’s waiting for her when she walks in, he's on his phone, feet outstretched on the coffee table but she doesn't greet him, what would she say? Guess who I bumped into today? Someone significant from my past I've never told you about. 

Slowly closing the door it clicks to a close behind her and Leo snaps his head up, immediately arching his brow “You were gone a while? Everything okay?” 

“Mhmm,'' she nods mumbling, walking past where he's sat, her breathing sputters, but luckily he can't feel or see that. 

Chapter Text

Walking past Leo, she keeps her head down, hoping the guilt isn't written plain across her face for him to see.  Thankfully, the renovations on the open plan kitchen finished last week and the bold lighting choices she had pondered over and then chose in haste were casting a shine over the simple color palettes and the minimalist features; it’s a welcome distraction and makes her smile. The gray granite stone island that sits in the middle of the room was costly but when she looks at it now she can see what Leo meant, it really does set the whole kitchen up.

“Looks good, doesn't it?” Leo’s calm, trusting voice says behind her, and she immediately startles, dropping the bags onto the island with a thud. She knew Leo was home, she'd arranged for him to pick up Noah but yet, still she finds her hand on the material of her coat covering her heart listening to the rapidly beating thumps and attempting to calm her soaring blood pressure from the surprise.

“I’m sorry,” she eventually tells him, casting a friendly smile as she spins around to face him. His eyes catch her eye then, in a way they have never done before, the icy blue standing out more than she's ever noticed, and for just the briefest of moments, she's not standing in her kitchen, in Alaska, looking at her boyfriend. She’s somewhere else, years ago, looking into the blue of someone else's eyes.

“You okay?” he asks, pulling her back, his happiness quickly fading into concern, but she knows how to reassure him and masks her confusion with the warmth from her smile.

“I didn't realize you were there,” she says to appease him, and it works because suddenly he's smiling again, moving closer to her, draping his arms around her waist just as he always does, but this time she shuffles away, distracts herself with picking up groceries and packing them into their storage places because tonight, it's all too much.

She watches him, from the corner of her eye, retreating back to the wooden beam that separates the kitchen from the other rooms. His back is pressed firmly against it, and within seconds his phone latches to the palm of his hand and he's scrolling incessantly. He does this when he's sulking; goes silent, gives all of his attention to social media, and usually, on a normal day she would bite, but not tonight. Tonight she’s too exhausted; tonight she wants to be on her own and curl up on the sofa and eat a mountain of cookie dough ice cream and accompany it with the finest merlot because who cares if they don't go well together, it's what she wants.

So she lets him get on with it, leaves him brooding in silence while she packs away food into storage containers and wonders what the hell she’s going to do about Elliot Stabler.

“What's wrong with you?” Leo asks, all moody and sullen, and she rolls her eyes and sighs aloud, probably louder than she should have because he breathes an over-exaggerated "wow" from behind her.

Doubling back, she glares at him, he stares back, and for a moment, it's a standoff. They stare into one another, waiting to see who will crack first, who will give in, until Leo breaks, tilting his mouth to the side and blinking his eyes closed as he smiles as she watches him stone-cold; she used to do this for a living once upon a time.

"Okay, I give in," he says, laughing slightly, shaking his head. "But you are in one hell of a bad mood tonight."

He's right; she is in a bad mood. She's in a foul mood, and it's not Leo's fault, it’s hers. It's her inner guilt eating her up, and having decided in the car home she wouldn't tell Leo about Elliot, at least not until she knew exactly what was going on, was messing her head up. It wasn't as easy as she had thought it would be, going home, behaving the same way, pretending she wasn't affected.

Her encounter with Elliot was already becoming a little hazy, and it would be nice if she could sit down with her own thoughts and re-evaluate everything, but Leo hovering around in close proximity makes it impossible, but she can't push him away. It's not his fault.

“I’m sorry,” she says again, putting the last of the groceries in the fridge and turning to face him. He puts his phone away immediately, beams up at her like Noah does when she gives him the go ahead to do something, and it reminds her how good of a man he is, how all he wants is her attention and her time. 

“What's going on with you?” he gently asks, standing in front of her, preventing her from shuffling any further forward.   

“Nothing,” she shrugs, brushing her shoulder against his to pass him, but he sighs behind her, so she turns to look at him. “I’m fine,” she assures him, but the strain in her voice isn't even convincing herself.

“You sure?”

She nods dazedly, busying herself towel drying glasses and mugs that have already dried off naturally from waiting in the dishwasher all day, and she can feel his suspicious eyes. “Liv,” he says, soft and concerned. “You're acting weird?”

“I’m not,” she says abruptly, placing the extra dry glass on the bench between them. “Am I?”

“Yes,” he laughs, and he seems relieved, placing his hand against her arm and pulling her in towards him. The palm of his hand comes up to cup the side of her cheek, and usually when he does this, she molds into the feel of his smooth, delicate touch, but now all she can think of is Elliot, in her car, the feel of his hand resting on top of hers. Elliot’s touch was different, the skin on his hands rougher, calloused. They felt worn and used and held years of life in them.

They’d carried and comforted his children, they’d spent years building furniture and taking care of his home, they’d cooked, cleaned, taken down some of New York's most heinous criminals and slapped cuffs on their wrists. They'd been punched into walls and lockers and punch bags and anything else close by when his protective nature kicked in. His hands, Elliot’s hands, had held her through pain, restrained her through rage, comforted her through sorrow. For all the years that had passed, they were still the most familiar, the most habitual. She’d missed them.

Leo’s touch was young, naive, sheltered.

“Are you sure you're okay? You seem distant.”

“I’m fine,” she assures him again. “I've got a headache; that's all”

“A headache?”

“Yeah.” 

“Okay.” Leo nods disappointed, she knows he is, but this, whatever it is she's feeling, doesn't feel right, and how can she explain to Leo, what she doesn't understand herself?

“Can we rain-check the cooking? I don't really feel up to it.”

“Sure,” he replies, quietly, coyly dipping his hand into the pockets of his gray tightly fitted joggers. “This have anything to do with what I asked you yesterday?”

Olivia shakes her head. “No,” she answers immediately, hands in front of her, locking his eyes to prove her certainty. “Honestly, it's nothing to do with that. I just don't feel good, right now. I’m sorry.”

“You sure, Liv? Because if it is? I’m sorry.” His hands reach out to catch one of hers, and he pulls it in to rest over his heart. “I don't want to come on too strong or overstep, but it's killing me a little bit, you know, the not knowing." He laughs nervously, and this familiar defense mechanism of his she has grown to know so well twists a little knot in Olivia’s stomach because she would hate to hurt him.

So, she smiles, a tight-lipped smile and releases her hands from his. “It's nothing to do with you asking us to live together, it's -” she hesitates and his eyes are burrowing into her waiting for an explanation or a reason, but she doesn't even know where to begin. “It’s just that I have a lot on my mind at the moment,” she settles on.

Leo quickly nods, bows his head as he starts to walk alongside the kitchen island. He's doing that annoying, sullen finger-clicking thing he does when he's weighing up whether to make this into something or let it go, and she's praying that he just lets it go.

He rounds the island, comes back to face her, and this time when she looks into Leo’s blue eyes, over his broad shoulders and well conditioned figure, she internally curses because, dammit, he does have a similarity to Elliot.

Subconsciously maybe she's always known it, fought it off in the back of her mind. Maybe if she had ever allowed herself to consider it, she had been able to laugh away the coincidence, but after seeing Elliot, it won't be as easy to ignore, especially knowing he's noticed it.

“Olivia,” Leo suddenly announces with a touch of indignance, pulling her from her thoughts. “Where were you earlier?” he asks, and the sudden change of direction of the conversation causes a flush of heat to flow through her. 

He’s staring at her, focusing in a way he has never done before, and it makes her feel uneasy, as if he doesn't trust her. Maybe he doesn't trust her or maybe he has looked at her this way before, but she hasn't noticed it because she's never had anything to hide before.

Should she even feel so guilty? She was with Elliot, her partner, her friend. Why can't she bring herself to just tell Leo?

“Olivia?”

She closes her eyes and rests her elbows on the island, fanning herself in front of her, trying to justify the rushing heat to her cheeks by blaming the menopause. In truth, she knows the flush is from the pressure. “Something unexpected came up and I needed to deal with it.”

It's not a lie.

“Like what?”

Using her hands to push her from the island, she sighs loudly, shaking her head.

“Like what? What came up?”

Taking a tumbler from the side and pressing it into the water dispenser of the fridge, it rumbles briefly before dropping cubes of ice into the bottom of her glass.  She will tell him, she has to tell him, but not tonight.

“It’s nothing to worry about. It's all sorted now anyway,” she says, spinning back to face him, and drinking the whole glass of water in one go before going to put it on the island countertop and remembering she needs a coaster.

“Here,” Leo says, rolling his eyes and holding out the circular, blush marble mat that matches the aesthetic of the new kitchen.

She nods her thanks and places the water down on top of the coaster. His simple gesture reminds her once again of everything she has here. “Shall we go out for dinner?” she asks, in a perkier tone than before. “I’ll message Lynette, see if Noah can stay over hers for the evening.” 

“I think that will be really nice,” Leo replies, wide-eyed and appreciative, watching her take out her phone and tap away at the touch screen. “Shall we go to our usual place?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Olivia mumbles, distracted by the incoming message on her phone. “Okay,” she says eventually, glancing at Leo before slipping the device into her back pocket and heading for the stairs. “Lynette says to drop Noah off in fifteen, apparently Joe is super excited,” she smiles.

Almost from the moment they moved in, Noah and Joe became best friends. Joe's mom is a nurse at the nearby hospital and sometimes childcare is a struggle, so Olivia, over the years has often stepped in to help by having Joe stay at her place, and in return, Lynette, is always happy to have Noah at hers on occasions like this.

“I'll drop him off. You get dressed!” Leo shouts up behind her. “But be quick!” he calls as an eager after thought.

<3

‘You better not leave without making amends,’ Kathleen's message had read, and as much as she was right, this predicament was becoming borderline unbearable.

The plan was terrible, this day was awful, and although his kids had the best of intentions, it wasn't exactly working out like they had originally sold it to him.

Throwing his phone down on the bed, Elliot moves to the closet where he had lazily unpacked on arrival the short supply of clothes he believed he needed for this trip and sifts through the three color choices of Henley.

Light blue, he finally decides.  You can't go wrong with blue; besides it's not as if he has anyone to impress. He’s going to dinner alone, in the ass end of nowhere to a restaurant that appears to be the only one still serving food after 8pm. Most likely, he’ll be the only person dining, have a quick burger, and head straight back to his room to be tucked in bed by 9pm.

‘Alaska’ he thinks, shaking his head.

He’ll never understand how she chose here over New York.

<3

Okay, Elliot agrees, with himself, walking through town and towards the restaurant door. It is beautiful here. The endless views of snow tipped peaks can be seen from everywhere, looming over the old historic buildings of the small town. He can see the appeal, he’ll admit that, especially at the moment when the town itself is wrapped up all bright and twinkly for Christmas.

It’s a little premature for his liking, but maybe there's something about the snow that brings out the early Christmas spirit around here.

The smell of food hits as soon as the door opens and as Elliot waits at the designated sign that reads ‘Please wait here,’ he takes in the place. It's cozy, bigger than he thought, very deceiving from the outside. It looks like a brew house at first glance, wooden beams low across the ceiling, and there's lots of round tables and booths mixed amongst each other. There are happy smiling faces of customers enjoying their meals with the gentle sound of Christmas music playing in the background. Plenty of servers are around, all wearing the same navy blue outfits, and this is the most people Elliot has seen together since he arrived in town.

The silvery, pristine metal shine of the active kitchen runs along the side, and the chefs and kitchen staff can all be seen working hard, preparing meals, passing them onto the shelf all to be picked up by the waiters and waitresses maneuvering around already familiar with the conveyor belt pattern.

‘It's nice here,’ he thinks. ‘Comfortable’

“Hi!” a preppy young server says, looking behind Elliot and grabbing a menu off the side. “Dining alone this evening?” she asks with a smile and Elliot nods.

“Yep, just me.”

“Okayyyy,” she says in concentration, scanning the busy room for an available table. “We have one tucked in the corner. It's small, but it's the only one free?”

“Sure,” Elliot replies, following her through the room, and when they pass by a fully-dressed table with a reserved sign on, she smiles. “That one is taken or I would have sat you -”

“Don’t worry about it,” Elliot insists, dismissing her concern by shaking his head. “I understand,” and she smiles appreciatively. Other than having a few scattered roses and a candle in the middle, it wasn't much different to the one she ushered him to. His seat was fine anyway, good view of the restaurant and that’ll do him. He always liked to ‘people watch’ when alone.

Anyway, it was just a place to eat for the evening before he went back to his hotel room to figure out how to get Olivia to talk to him.

Elliot had finished his meal, was onto his second pint of whatever Alaskan beer was on tap, when the hostess was finally showing someone to that reserved table which had been vacant for over an hour.

Recognizing the tall, blue eyed man instantly, Elliot had to laugh to himself. What's that old movie quote? ‘Of all the gin joints…and you walk into mine.’

Although truth be told this place is more inclined to be Leo's 'gin joint' than Elliot’s, but still…Liv is gonna be pissed when she sees him sitting here.

He considers, for a moment, hiding his face behind the menu and scuttling out of there at the first available opportunity, but no, to hell with it. He will stay as he is. He came to see Olivia, to make amends, and in the past he's always been brazen around her and her love interests, so it wouldn't be entirely out of character for him to stay.

Although, she did tell him to leave and maybe he should respect that, given he was the one who caused over a decade of distance between them. But then again, he knows Olivia, and once her anger goes, she will want to talk to him. This is Olivia Benson, his partner, his best friend, and he knows the woman isn't capable of shutting any doors without closure so she will come around. Even if it's to talk it through and decide the worst, ask him to leave again. At least he will have his true answer, not one she has made in haste.

Leaning back in his chair, he stretches his arms above his head, cranes his neck to each side a little to stretch out because all that traveling and plane hopping has really taken it out of him, and as he sits there, arms up high, he hears the restaurant bell chime and sees her walk in.

Phone in hand, glasses over her eyes, she stops at her table, shrugs off her thick winter coat, and hands it to the waitress before clicking her phone off and placing it down. “Thank you,” she says to the young girl with a smile, and that same warm comforting smile hits him right in the gut; that's the smile he’s longed to see.

'God she looks good,' he thinks, continuing to give her an hopefully inconspicuous once over. 

The black tight fitted dress that hugs all her curves and cuts off just below the knee is perfect. He barely got to see her dressed in anything like that, and when he did it was before or after a date. Back then, his mind would occasionally wander, and he would imagine himself by her side walking out of the precinct doors heading to dinner…but then he would quickly shut it down, faster than it rose because she was a colleague and he was married. Thinking like that would not be helpful to either of them, he'd remembered telling himself.

But, looking back, if he had known then what he knew now, how the years apart wouldn't have a whit of an impact on his feelings towards Olivia but they would his marriage, he probably would have let them grow.

Smiling to himself, he takes another sip of his beer and watches Olivia and this Leo person surreptitiously. Not too much, he’s not being creepy, but enough to observe their interactions. Find out who Olivia is these days.

Elliot finds it impossible not to smile to himself. She's pulling the glasses out of her hair and over her eyes to read the menu. He’s never seen her order like this before. When they were partners, she didn't need glasses. If anything, it was his eyesight who he thought would go first.

She points her finger to the item she wants on the menu, smiling widely as she orders, hair gracing her bare shoulder, she's the perfect picture of mature innocence.

Her other half, however, is ignoring her, staring into the phone, and now that she's finished with the waitress, she's playing with her nails on the table in front of her. Is this normal for them? Does he often take her for dinner and ignore her while she sits there, or is this time different? Is there tension now? And could Elliot have caused it? Possibly, Olivia had gone home, told Leo about Elliot’s arrival and maybe, hopefully not, Leo is jealous.

Elliot shakes his head, looks away, and then the waitress arrives at the table with another pint of what he’s just finished. “You wanted another, yeah?” she says placing it down in front of him, and he smiles. He hadn't actually ordered one but he’ll take it. It might be a good idea to wait until Olivia goes to the bathroom, and then he can sneak out without being seen after all.

“Thanks,” he nods, taking a sip, watching the waitress walk away, and then it happens. He glances back to look at Olivia again, but this time, she's not idly sitting complacent in her seat. Her dark eyes are narrowed towards him, her lips are tight, jaw tensed, and he doesn’t know whether to nervously laugh or take a fucking gulp because she’s visibly fuming, like screaming ‘screw you’ in a precinct full of people, decades ago, fuming.

So, he raises his hand, offers a subtle wave to cut the tension, except instead of waving back, she looks away, fixes her gaze on her companion, smiles falsely sweet through gritted teeth and ignores Elliot.

<3

"Olivia," Leo says in a harsh whisper. "Have you listened to a word I've said?" he asks, eyes locking hers, mouth taught with exasperation.

She blinks, spoons into her mouth the remainder of her meal as she nods. She’d tried, she really tried to not let Elliot’s presence affect her, right from the second she spotted him. But if she were honest, she’d have to say no, she hasn’t heard a single word he’s said because instead of enjoying her meal and unwinding, she’s spent the entirety of the last thirty minutes, gluing her eyes to Leo’s face so that her gaze wouldn’t accidentally wander to Elliot fucking Stabler, sat three tables back. 

Leo huffs out a sigh. "I'm going to the bathroom," he tells her, abruptly removing the napkin from his lap and placing it next to his finished dish. He mumbles as he leaves that he's getting real sick of this, and she nods in silent agreement behind him because she honestly doesn't blame him.

She would be sick of her too if she was him.

Picking her own napkin up, she puts it on the table, leans her elbows in the wood, and holds her face in her hands. The twisty feeling in her stomach from earlier today is back, and she's close to giving up, telling Leo about Elliot, and hoping he gives her the time and space she needs.

"Hi," a passing voice from the edge of her table says, pulling her attention.

"Elliot," she whispers, snapping her head to look at him then back again towards the bathroom, checking for Leo. "You can't be here." She pauses for a second before twisting her face. "Are you following me?"

He laughs and she flinches because it's that hearty laugh he does, and she doesn't need Leo to walk out and see some random man she has no intention of explaining laughing at their table.

"I'm not following you, Liv. There aren’t many places to eat around here."

She will give him that one.

“I thought you were leaving?”

“I told you I wasn't.”

She shakes her head and checks over her shoulder towards the bathroom again.

“I told you to leave,” she hisses, then smiles at the other guests sitting close by who’s attentions have drawn.

“And again, I told you, I'm not leaving,” he says. She has missed that touch of arrogance in his voice when he's adamant about something even if it's to her detriment right now. "Can we talk?" he asks "please?"

Then his expression changes, his smile quickly fades, and she looks behind her to see Leo leaving the bathroom.

Elliot tips his head to the side, rolls his eyes with it, and without another word he walks past her, leaves her table and heads to the left.

Leo reaches his seat quickly, narrows his eyes "Who was that?" Leo asks, sitting down, assessing the man walking away. "I haven't seen him around here before."

Olivia shrugs, shakes her head. "I dunno," she lies. The words leave her mouth before she can even comprehend their meaning, before she can realize that she had outwardly denied knowing her partner of over fifteen years to her boyfriend of two.

What a mess this is.

She said it before she even had time to think about it; it just poured out and now the twisted feeling in her stomach is laced with betrayal and guilt, and right now she doesn't even know who she is.

This has to stop. She can't lie to Leo. It's not fair or right and it's not who she is, but she also can't explain who the man is either or why he's here because she has no clue.

"I'm still not feeling too great," she tells him, becoming quite the liar this evening, standing up and smoothing her dress down. "I'm just going to the bathroom."

Leo nods, diving into his phone and she heads towards the tiny little area at the back of the restaurant that houses the designated bathrooms.

It's a small space, and as she stands outside of the engaged ladies room, she can hear the hand drier going from inside the men's.

When the door swings open, she holds her breath. The space between is tiny here, very intimate, and he stops just a breath away from her. The small area is filled with the fragrance of the past. His same cologne and her same perfume mix together to create the perfect realm of nostalgia, and this is the closest she has ever been to Elliot.

She smiles; for the first time since she's seen him she smiles and he smiles back, and the warmth that circulates throughout her body makes her lighter.

Then the hand drier from inside the ladies blows out that awful, sharp, shrill noise, and it brings her back to the present, the restaurant, Leo sitting at the table innocently waiting for her.

"Meet me tomorrow," she whispers, shuffling herself to the side to make room for a third person to enter this tiny space.

"Where?" he asks, clearing his throat. "When?"

The door to the ladies swings open, and as one of the older women from town exists and looms over them both, they are quick to create some distance from one another. 

"Hi," Olivia says awkwardly to the woman, pretending to take the door and appear to enter while the lady asses Elliot and his obviously awkward bowed head.

"Hi," she replies, with a gentle, maybe a little suspicious, maybe Olivia is slightly paranoid smile.

When she leaves, Olivia whispers back, "The coffee shop on the side. I'll park up and you can get in?"

He chuckles and she narrows her eyes. "It's all a bit covert, don't you think?"

"You have no idea what this town is like," she tells him, checking again to make sure they are still alone.

"I have a better idea," he whispers. "I have a rental. You can wait at the coffee shop and I'll pick you up. Does that work better?"

She thinks for a moment, hears some shuffling from other patrons wanting to use the bathroom and quickly nods.

See you then," she says as she turns her back to him and enters the ladies room.

Chapter Text

As Elliot pulls the truck alongside, he immediately notices her, waiting. 

Surrounded by piles of freshly plowed snow, she's standing on the edge holding two coffee cups, one in each hand, both seasonally decorated with fur trees and colorful baubles. She couldn't have been waiting long as hot steam is rising from the lids of both mugs, creating a display of evaporation into the cool air.

A chocolate brown ski jacket perfectly fits her warm colored hair and matching biker style knee high boots and he can't help but think, even with all these layers she still manages to look…for want of a better word, hot. 

“You look great,” he tells her, as he pops open the truck door and pushes it wide for her to climb in. 

She smiles, small and polite “Thanks,” she says, blowing the fallen hair from her face and handing him a cup “you have the same coffee order?” she asks, watching him take off the lid and look inside. 

“I can still drink this,” he says, skirting the truth slightly, not having the heart to tell her that since living in Rome he's ditched the frothy milk and sweet sugar substitutes for extra shots and rich beans. 

She nods, surveys him as he takes a sip, swallows it, and then pulls a face. “you have changed your order?” she says, and he laughs through nerves. 

Nerves, over telling his (best) -  (friend)  that he drinks differently now. 

“I switched to Espresso,” he says with a smile, “you have tea?” 

“I went back to coffee” she rolls her eyes “babies, sleepless nights, long hours, age” 

“Age"  he agrees with a chuckle, taking another drink of his coffee and pulling another face.  

They sit quietly for what feels like an eternity, the sound of the warm air blowing through the vents of the truck, the only thing stopping complete silence. 

“We can drive left up here” Olivia eventually says, looking around, the town is getting busier now, and more locals and some familiar faces are passing by, “I think it's best we go out of town”

Elliot nods places his cup in the holder and drives forward. “You haven't told your husband you're meeting me?”  he asks, realizing too late that he sounds more accusing than curious and the former is exactly how she takes it and snaps. 

“He's not my husband,” she replies, missing the last part of the question and pointing to the direction they are going “the next left” 

“Okay” he acknowledges, thinking it best to leave the topic of her significant other for now, “Where are we going?” he asks, signaling left and turning the truck onto a wide open road that looks derelict for miles, only the colossal peaks of mountains edge the horizon ahead. 

“For a walk?” she says, presenting her tone as a question but leaving no room for negotiation. 

Regardless, Elliot nods, he'd agree to anything she suggests just to get to spend some time with her and thankfully he likes that idea, it gives them a chance to talk. With his eyes off the road he tries to catch her hidden gaze, wants to send her a look that will break through her iciness, maybe even win over a smile, show her that he's happy they are doing this. 

He won't tell her that though, even if he could say all of the words the lump that forms in his throat every time he needs to speak to Olivia, is doing its usual thing of creating an irritating communicative block. 

So instead, he keeps looking at her, with no such luck as a smile back for as long as he can until the road ahead needs his attention once more. 

“So your - ” he hesitates, after finding the courage or whatever it was he needed to create a conversation  “ - man? he doesn't know you're meeting me?” 

“No,” she says, blunt, offering nothing further and he rolls his eyes to the mountains ahead because this isn't what he has in mind for today. 

But he's feeling daring, ready to give it another go.  

“It's real nice here, Liv,” he says, and it's not just for small talk's sake it's true. “This scenery is captivating” he continues and she looks at him, nods her head, even so much as smiles. 

Phew

“You decided to stay then?” she asks, nonchalantly and he swallows. 

Here we go again.

“I did,” he says, reluctantly. Aware that they are at the beginning of the end once again and  she's already preparing to shut any pleasant conversation down. 

He can't blame her.

“After your ambush at the restaurant, I thought you would leave” 

Sighing, he tries to tell her in the most reassuring way possible “I wouldn't do that, Liv, not when we need to talk” 

“Ahh” she hums, confrontational “leaving" she whispers, "it's not a problem you've had before,” 

And there it is. 

He's surprised but yet not surprised, he was waiting for it, actually, he was anxious as to when it would come up. He deserves it, hell, he deserves it but somehow she's caught him off guard and he's trying, desperately,  to conceal any glance of confusion across his face because typically, for the first time this car journey, she’s sure as shit looking at him now, eyes burning into the side of his face as he drives. 

Coughing, nervously he gathers the courage to face her, eventually , and he's not surprised by what he's met with. A sullen expression, one that has very low expectations but exceedingly high hopes for whatever words are going to leave his mouth next. 

“I’m sorry I left you, Olivia” he goes with. The truth.  

Pulling her face from his she looks out of the window; seemingly unable to look at him. He can see she's slowly shaking her head from side to side by her hair, it's subtle in its way of swaying across the back of her coat. 

Damn, that was the wrong thing to say. 

“Left, here,” she says, suddenly alert, pointing ahead and sitting upright to guide him into the correct location. 

It's another nature reserve car park, only one other car there and the snow on the ground is so thick it's absolutely going to cover these hiking boots he bought, Kathleen bought. 

“Is this safe?” Elliot asks, getting out of the truck and shutting the door. He's bobbing his head to the beginning of the trail, squatting down a bit and tilting his body in an attempt to see the winding route the walkway seems to take into the woodland. 

“It's safe” she repeats his question with a chuckle and he flinches around, stands back up straight, to see her smiling. 

God, he needed to see that smile. 

“Of course it's safe” 

“But how do you know there's not gonna be an avalanche?”  

“Stop worrying, El,” she says, rolling her eyes and tapping the back of his shoulder prompting him forward “It's a winter safe trail” 

He looks around again, seemingly unconvinced “M’kay” he mutters, “didn't think there was such a thing” he continues to mumble, meeting Olivia's eyes for a brief moment.

There is a lightness in them and she's still smiling.  This feels good, like progress. 

Until Olivia cuts it off, looks away, walks ahead and Elliot sighs in exasperation, these eggshells he’s walking on are cracking left, right and center. 

Catching the noise he just subconsciously but maybe loudly released, she flashes back to look at him. Like a deer, she catches every sound and then uses it to trys to read his actions, his intentions, and his emotions. Her body is always tense, and stiff, her eyes wide and concentrated but yet, whenever he then tries to maintain contact, regain that lost element of intimacy,  she startles and pulls back. 

“This way,” she says, taking the lead, crossing a forested path. Despite the snow, the ground appears flat, but the sign situated next to Olivia says there will be loops and cross paths through rolling terrain and Elliot must look nervous because she laughs again, “Elliot Stabler, are you nervous?” 

Elliot laughs too, she's full-named him, progress. 

“Why do you think I’m bringing you here?” she sighs “to kill you?” she asks, her tone sarcastic and mocking.

“Well I dunno Liv” he says, slowly walking towards her, but she moves too, and keeps on going further ahead “you are pretty mad” he smirks, voice growing louder to cover the new distance. 

She spins around then, makes that intimate eye contact he's so desperately been craving, brow furrowed but eyes still light “You ass” she shouts and he laughs, jogging his hiking boots through the quick crunch of the snow to catch up and be alongside her. 

They walk in silence for a few minutes, both breathing in the crisp, fresh air. Elliot steals a wily sideways glance at her every now and then up to when she catches him, and surprisingly, lets him look. She looks stunning in this climate with her cheeks and nose bridge flushed with red from the cool air.

He shakes his head, not ready to confess the truth as to what he's thinking “you bring Noah here?” he asks instead. 

And she smiles, “Yeah,” she says, “he loves it. I thought he would struggle here, in Alaska” she admits, “you know with him being raised a city kid but he's doing well here” 

“And you?” Elliot asks, to which she shrugs slightly. 

“Yeah,” she says, not as enthusiastically. 

“So, Leo?” he smiles and damn he's done it again, she instantly stares him down. 

“Elliot, don't?” 

“What? I'm interested in your life, Liv.” 

“My life or my romantic life?” she asks. 

Elliot grins, shrugs one shoulder “both,” he says, voice low, nervous, afraid to say it but still going through with it. 

She laughs though, another good sign ?

“Piece of work, you are,” she says flatly but in fun. 

 They walk in silence once again. Despite it being below minus ten, Elliot finds it easier to breathe. The little bits of merriment she's allowing herself, in their exchange, are all he could have asked for.  

The crystal clear sky is poking through the mountains, ‘how many hours of sun does this place get anyway?’ he thinks but refrains from asking, he will find out soon enough anyway. “Where are we going?” he asks alternatively. 

“Just around here” she looks at him, stopping at a cross path. One direction is more of the frosted and icy ground, which potentially is the beginning of somewhere uphill and the other is, well, it's kind of a quaint little scene for such an epically picturesque state. 

A small but long boardwalk curves through the forestry, trees overhead are tall, tilting and over leaning all but meeting in the middle, creating a cove of trees.  The earthiness from the greens in the woodland still clearly stands out, even through all of the delicate white snowfall and it forces a smile to Elliot, watching the light breeze brush softly against the treetops, disturbing the snow resting on top. 

“Wow” he whispers as he watches it fall elegantly and meet the floor of other snowflakes that are laying on the boardwalk, perfectly untouched; no footprint marks, no pawprints from hikers' pets or wildlife. 

“Impressive isn't it?” she asks, smiling, disturbing his enchantment “In summer,” she starts, pointing to the bridge a glance away “when you stand here, you could be in an entirely different place. It's quiet now but when it's warm, you can hear the water rushing. Noah has us doing stick races” she gushes, smiling at Elliot and pointing to the route the flow of water would usually take. “You know what that is?” she asks and Elliots nods. 

“Yeah, drop twigs over the edge of the bridge, rush to the other side, and watch to see who won” 

“That's it” she smiles, and Elliot can't help it, he reaches his hand out to grasp her, the lightness in her demeanour, the motherly glow in her face when she beams about her son, the memories flooding his mind of how she, her, they both at one point thought that being a mother wasn't written on her cards. 

She doesn't wince or pull away like he thought she would, instead she turns slowly to face him, grasps his hand tighter, squeezes it softly and Elliot swallows. It's quiet, except for the foraging birds rustling in the frozen shrubbery and the trilling songs from the warblers in the trees that Elliot hadn't noticed until now. And as expected, as he eventually thought she would, she pulls her hand away. 

To his surprise, she doesn't place it back to her side or out of range, she instead raises her gloved palm, places it on the part of his thick coat where below his chest rests, and sighs. “I've missed you” she whispers, dropping her guard, bowing her head and Elliot recognizes her vulnerability. How difficult it is for her to expose herself right now, she’s rightfully angry and hurt by him and here she is, making a move so deep and emotional that it stuns him speechless.

But, he can't be quiet, be stunned or even pleased with her admission because he's too afraid of missing it, of losing the opportunity to have her the tiniest bit closer to him than she has been so far. “I've missed you too” he whispers back, draping his arm around her waist, he takes a chance to softly pull her towards him and where he anticipates she will pull back she does the opposite, freely stepping into him, resting her hand against his chest, her head on his shoulder. 

He exhales; the gentle clutch from her hug hasn't aged. It's longing, its support, its comfort and consolation, it's everything it was decades ago but only this time it has something extra, this time it symbolizes more; Hope, opportunity, potential. Leaning his head down he caresses his cheek against the cotton fibre of her hat, pulling his arm in tighter on her waist to precede any potential gaps between them.

She pulls her head back, feeling the warmth from their bodies raising the temperature in this freezing cold forest,  “This is nice” she says softly, looking up at him with those dark eyes and cold pinked cheeks and shit, she looks beautiful.

She's smiling at him now, tender and soft not the usual exasperated look he's become accustomed to since he got here. It enamours him.  Leaning into her, he feels her hands, sliding up over his shoulders, to the back of his head pulling him closer, his breath is tight in his lungs, heart hammering, lips inches apart. 

He kisses her, reserved and light. Unsure in his touch but certain in his mind as his lips brush against hers, he can feel her breathing, quicker than usual at first but the rhythm quickly soothes into their kiss. 

Until she deepens it, he made the first move, she takes it further, kissing him back fervently, tongue hot in his mouth, feverish hums escaping between breaths. 

“No,” she says, suddenly, tearing her mouth away, softly pushing him back, shaking her head “we can't-,  I can't , do this Elliot” 

Elliot clears his throat, watching her “Okay” he says immediately, steadying her upright by holding her elbow. She looks uneasy, wobbly, panicked “Liv,” he says, talking slowly “you’re okay” 

“It's not okay, Elliot,” she says, the palm of her hand placed over her brow, she has the true tortured image of guilt and he hates that he's made her feel this way. 

“I can't do this-” 

“I understand, it's okay” 

“I can't do this to Leo '' she says, arms flailing to her hips, eyes squinting as if attempting to hide a tumultuous pain building in her head. Hearing the name Leo, seconds after a kiss he's dreamt about for decades was a gut punch but Elliot needs to suck it up. 

She heard the name Kathy often enough.

“Olivia, it was a mistake. People make mistakes” he encourages  “let's finish our walk, I’ll drop you at the car and you can go home. Let's pretend this never happened” he smiles as he says the words but it's all for show, for her, to help her ease her sin? Because it's not what he believes and those words aren't for him; they are the most excruciating words he has ever muttered. 

Let's pretend this never happened. 

She quietly paces on the spot, slowly panting in the cool air, taking in the idyllic picture she's in the middle of and he hopes, even for just a second, that she will come back to him, find a way to justify this in her head.

 But then the hope dream shatters. 

“Yes,” she says, finally agreeing to the words he didn't mean, “let's do that. Take me home, please,” she says “if you wouldn't mind?” 

“Of course” he breathes. Letting her walk ahead, keeping his distance giving her space. 

The mile hike back to the truck was weary and dismal. ‘It's funny’ he thinks to himself, ‘how the outside view of the world can change depending on your mood’ not even the birds can even make him consider stretching his lips into a smile.  

The sun was setting, darkness would be imminent and that didn't help, although it wasn't yet evening, it certainly contributed to the feeling that today was the longest day in human history.

Things aren't any better when they reach the truck either. Olivia looks drained, she still hasn't spoken to him, still avoids looking at him and maybe this was a big fucking mistake? He had said it earlier, to calm her, stop her big heart oozing with remorse but he hadn't meant it. He felt bad for Leo, for maybe, potentially putting himself into the middle of a healthy relationship but he knows Olivia, if there wasn't a chance they could make this right between them she wouldn't have come today, she wouldn't have kissed him. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, looking over at the back of her head as he starts the engine, she doesn't turn to him. “I shouldn't have kissed you,” he tells her. Letting the engine roar before reversing out of the space. 

She sighs and turns to face him “It wasn't just you, El” she smiles reassuringly “I wanted to,” she says, almost knocking the breath from his lungs, Elliot looks back to the road, he needs to concentrate on driving, this shock and his hope cannot consume him here, especially on these roads.  “ I’m sorry,” she adds. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Liv. That was -” 

“Wrong of us,” she says, diminishing his prospects once again. 

“Do you love him?” he asks, feeling more as if he has a right to ask these questions now. 

She stares at him blinking. “You can't ask me that” she croaks, he can hear it in her voice, she's fighting tears and with one hand on the wheel he reaches behind her, into the back of the truck to grab a bottle of water, she takes it eagerly, gulping down half the bottle before screwing the lid back on and playing idly with it in her lap. 

“It doesn't have to mean anything, the kiss,” he says, not facing her “I know I've hurt you, I know I haven't been here, I know you get on in life without me but I want to be here for you now. You can always talk to me” 

Olivia nods, and takes a deep breath “You hurt me when you left” she says calmly, “I didn't have anyone in the world, except you Elliot and one day you were just gone” 

“I know” he agrees, listening, allowing her to share. 

“I need to know why you left, how you could,” she says, voice quivering, “because maybe I felt different but I couldn't have done that to you. I couldn't have left you without a word, without a” she hitches “goodbye ” 

Elliot squeezes his eyes, he's looking towards the road but he needs to close them for just a second, he had prepared for her anger, to beg for her forgiveness but this? This pain she's been clinging to all these years is unbearable. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, with all the true remorse he can muster, “I’m sorry.” 

She blinks, tears full, threatening to fall from her eyes and when he says it once more “I’m sorry” they do.  

“Okay,” she nods, wiping away the droplets from her cheeks. 

“I’ll explain everything to you if you're willing to hear?” he says and she nods, “it may not make sense because I didn't make sense then, Olivia. I was confused and grieved. Killing Jenna that day sent me into grief I didn't know how to understand”   

Olivia doesn't say anything but he knows she's still listening “Kathy was already hanging by a thread, the kids were suffering because I was working all hours, their mother was unhappy, and when I was home I grew tired. We were a house filled with raging teenage hormones, an unappreciated wife, a non-sleeping, tantrum-throwing toddler and whenever we were together we were snapping and yelling and fighting and Olivia,” he freezes, blinking to the road “I saw my father” he says, defeated. 

She reaches for his hand then, shuffling in her seat to rest more on her hip so she secures her grip on him and she does, her hold is warm and strong yet soothing and it's more than he ever thought, he knew , he deserved. He gathers himself, sniffs loudly and clears his throat “I had to choose my job or the family.” 

Using her free hand, Olivia tries to hide the subtle wipe she does below her eyes to catch further straying tears but he catches her, and squeezes her hand, knowing she understands why he needed to choose his family. “Choosing the family meant losing you, Olivia” 

“That was a condition?” she asks, the hurt and possibly some begrudge apparent in her eyes. 

And he nods, regretfully. 

“I understand,” she says, like the true magnanimous individual that she is and that hurts him more. Here he was thinking all he needed was her understanding but now he has it, the feelings are worse. 

“The thing is Olivia, I grew up with Kathy, I was a young adult, I didn't have the full understanding of life then, I was a kid, and I would talk about my father, tell her about the relationships he made with other women, at work. Mom didn't help” he says, shaking his head. "She couldn't help it, he put her through a lot, but she would tell Kathy, in the beginning about his indiscretions too, and as much as Kathy tried to fight it: the thoughts that I wouldn't have those similar traits of my father, I couldn't truly convince her” 

He waits, and lets the information digest, it was a lot in a short space of time, hell, today has been a lot in a short space of time. 

“Liv?” he asks when the continued silence becomes insufferable. 

“Yeah,” she says, staring into space, the grip on his hand loosening, before tightening again “What does that mean?” she asks.

“What does what mean?” he replies, checking back to look at her briefly. That long walk where they could have aired all of this and they choose to do it while he's driving. Typical.

“That you couldn't truly convince her” 

Oh. 

“Well” he breathes, taking a minute “I mean, there was no way I could convince her because part of me was afraid that I was like him” 

She stares at him.

“Because I was in love with you Olivia” he blurts out, “because I was married to my wife and in love with you.” 

Chapter Text

<3

“Because I was in love with you Olivia” he blurts out, “because I was married to my wife and in love with you.” 

<3

Olivia raises a judgemental and exasperated eyebrow. Her mouth parts slightly as her brow knits together. She’s about to unleash hell upon him and Elliot knows it. He deserves it; heck, he welcomes it if it will finally break down these communication barriers. In preparation, he hits the signal on the truck, pulls into the side of the road, and waits, but the silence has lingered too long.

The wrath of words she wanted to unveil must have failed her; her eyes are tearing slightly, and this is a surprise. Olivia rarely shows her emotions on the surface.  

Elliot can see her discomfort, the look on her face flickering between moods. As he watches her, he catches her eye, smiles sadly to show his understanding of the difficult position he has put her in, and when she forcibly smiles back he realizes the feeling she has finally settled on. 

Downcast. 

It pains him to know he has upended her happy life here. Why did he need to selfishly tell her? Maybe she would have been happier not knowing and could she continue her life with Leo and Noah. This is a new chapter and he's thrust himself into the middle of it. 

He withdraws himself, pulls his gaze away to look into the white snowy distance of this new place he is in, a place he shouldn't even be in. New York, that's where he should be. In his own home, minding his own business and doing everything he can to not cause her to look… like that. 

Elliot’s hand begins to tremble, the dark thoughts becoming all consuming. He needs to leave, he needs to drop her off at her home, where there's a warm firm fire, bright Christmas lights, and smiling faces. Faces who don't cause her pain again and again. 

He turns to look at her. He’s going to announce their departure, tell her of his plan, and reassure her that he's leaving. His own feelings can be masked; his face can remain neutral- he's had a whole career of remaining strong in circumstances of distress. He can tell her. 

“Olivia,” he says with his voice cracking, and she slowly turns to look at him. The slight tears he noticed earlier are no longer minor and inconsequential; they are significant. Her eyes are puffy, almost red, and he doesn't know how he didn't notice it before. Maybe he was trapped inside of his own head, but she's sniffling, hard, in an attempt to hide that she's crying. 

His body reacts before his thoughts, and he can't resist taking a hold of her hand and nestling it between his own, and despite these arctic conditions, she’s radiating warmth. 

He can't do this again; he can't do what he always does and run. He needs to stay and be here regardless of the consequences of this reveal. 

He’s trying to think of what to say, searching her face to find any common ground they can use to move forward with. He wishes, once again, that this conversation had taken place in the woods, surrounded by breezy arctic air and charming warbler tunes, but no… apparently this truck, this now mechanical vessel of angst, is seemingly the best place to air all of their deep conversations…and they are cornered.

At an impasse with nowhere to turn but to each other. 

Maybe she can see the pain and guilt he feels at being the source of all of this because she looks into his eyes, removes her hand from the comfort of the enclosure he made with his, and wraps hers around his now. Her smile is weak but it's there. It’s not forced or distant or meant to pacify an awkward situation; it's genuine and it's for him. 

Elliot sighs, his breath ragged, and he doesn't trust himself to talk. Not yet. The possibilities are flashing through his mind and they are going to be the undoing of him. 

The power in this woman's smile. 

“I’m sorry I didn't say it before. I’m sorry I repeatedly let you down, I’m sorry I wasn't there, and I’m sorry for telling you my feelings when you're with someone,” he says, throwing all caution to the wind. “You would never have told me your feelings while I was with Kathy, and you are a much better person than I am.” 

“Why didn't you tell me you were in love with me?” she breaks her silence to ask. 

That hits him hard but he’s made a pact with himself to be what she needs, what they both need. “Guilt, failings, fear…” he offers. 

She nods, not needing a further explanation. Falling back into the seat, her body noticeably relaxes, but the grip around his hands tightens.

Elliot shuffles towards her, trying desperately to provide her with some of the strength he feels she needs. 

“What do we do now?” 

<3 

This was new from him. Olivia could only imagine how difficult it was for him to do all of this; initiate conversation and hold it, but she could see his growth. 

She herself still struggles with open communication. It drives Leo crazy how guarded and emotionless she must appear at times,  but it was difficult to break old habits. 

She had fallen into a silent yet comfortable and intimate understanding with Elliot, one where there was always an arms-length between them. 

“What do we do now?” She mimics him. “We were never good at talking.” 

Elliot laughs for the first time in what feels like forever. “No,” he shakes his head, “but that can change?”  

She pulls her hands away from the warmth of his. She looks into his face, and what she sees almost breaks her. The sadness, guilt and pain all banding together to make up the newer appearance traits of a more mature Elliot. 

“Elliot,” she whispers, apology already radiating from her word. “How could you leave like that?” she asks. “No goodbye, no closure. You just left me wondering, not knowing if I would ever speak to you or see you again.”

He sighs, voice heavy with regret. “I was selfish, Olivia.”  His sentence is matter of fact; blunt but true and it's enough of an explanation for today. 

It’s fully dark outside now, and she knows she should get home, run away to the safety of a familiar environment.

“I didn't understand that this went both ways,” Elliot announces, his voice lighter, and she turns abruptly to check his tone. Surely he's not discussing her feelings. 

Smirking back at her, he has that cocky half a smile stretching from his lips, and he lets out a laugh. 

“I mean, it was obvious that you felt the same after you kissed me in the woods.” 

Olivia's eyes widen, and the red blush creeps to her face, this time not from the cold. Defeated, she laughs herself. The audacity of this man. 

“I didn't say I felt the same,” she inadequately lies, not ready to go there, and he smiles, nodding his head. Still taking it as a win, she imagines. 

Elliot puts his hands on the wheel of the truck, and fearing the moment will be lost, she finds herself placing her hand to his shoulder. She doesn't know why, what she's going to say or even what she wants to come from more time in the car, but she knows she doesn't want this to end, and judging by Elliot’s hasty turn, neither does he. 

He takes seconds to face her, and in those mere moments he has drawn his eyes over her lips more than once. It's almost instinctual how she reacts, how her glance gives him the permission he so desperately seeks to push himself forward and press his lips against hers. 

Elliot’s hand slides across the top of her thigh up to her waist, and although she’s bewitched by his kiss, she’s not blinded by the further sensations of his touch. 

Breaking apart, they catch their breaths, and with the realization that she has not only kissed Elliot Stabler twice in one day but also broken down every barrier they have ever built, the air hitches in her throat.

This is dangerous territory, and at this point it's basically mutually assured destruction.

“I’m sorry,” he says and she shakes her head, kisses him, even if it's just to stop him from talking anymore. There's been enough for today.  

His hands don't dare explore further. She gets why. Slipping her hands under his sweater, he gasps at the cool touch of fingertips, and she giggles against his mouth. 

He laughs too and keeping his hands securely positioned at either side of her waist, he softly kisses the top of her head. 

“We really should get going,” she tells him, this time with no anger or urgency, just simply common sense of the time. 

His agreement is reluctant but understanding, and as he smiles at her before pulling away, she realizes it's now or never. 

“I do feel the same way.” she says raspily. “I always have.”

Chapter Text

The drive back into town felt quicker than the drive out. Olivia had told him all about Noah, and Elliot had told her all about the kids and his grandkids- that caused an audible gasp. They shared stories of happy times and had somehow managed to steer clear of the grittier stuff. 

“Do you have time to grab something to eat?” Elliot asks, realizing it’s a long shot. 

As expected, Olivia refuses. “I’m sorry,” she says as she politely checks her watch. “I have to get back, but maybe tomorrow?” 

“Of course,” he says, nodding his head, feeling more embarrassed than he needs to be. It's obvious she's only said no because of timings. 

Right now she wanted more than anything to stay with Elliot and to keep sharing stories of what the other has missed. She would have too, if Leo wasn't waiting for her back at home.

The thought of Leo surfaces a sudden pang of guilt within her. Earlier, after the first kiss, Olivia thought she had prepared herself for the emotional repercussions of her actions, but this actual wave of intensity isn't anything she expected. 

Elliot takes his eyes off the road to watch her expression. It mirrors the way she is feeling. All torn up with guilt, self betrayal and anguish.

“Don't do that,” he whispers, compassionately. He has culpability in this too and he needs to share the burden. “Don't do that to yourself Liv. It won't do any good.” 

It wasn't an empty offering of advice; he knew it wouldn't do anything to ease the situation, but he wanted to offer the support regardless and show her he's here, willing to share the responsibility. 

“El?” Olivia asks, and he hums in response. “You know what I did when I found out you'd left, that you'd put your papers in?” she adds. Turning to look at him she sees his expression change. He breathes out a deep sigh that tells her he knows exactly what she did, but he wants to allow her to tell him anyway. 

“I checked my phone,” she continues, “just in case I’d missed something, then I checked the front desk, asked if there were any messages for me, because, you know,” she shrugs, “maybe it was something you couldn't perhaps say to my face.” 

Elliot offers her a withered look. She can tell this is hard for him to hear, but it was torture for her to experience, and if he wants to make amends and fix this, then she needs him to know. 

“Olivia I-,” 

“Let me finish,” she says softly, hand in the air. “Then i went into a room, where it’s already dreary and miserable, and I cried, Elliot. Right there in the precinct. I cried.” She lifts her chin. “After that, I tried for so long to do the justifications for you. Thinking of every excuse as to why you left without a word. At first…" She looks away again, her voice small. “I tried to think of reasons where I could protect myself. Kept reassuring myself it wasn't my fault, it wasn't because of me.” 

“But it wasn't,” Elliot says, quickly interrupting. “It was me,” he tells her firmly, and she nods her head slowly. “I’m sorry it's taken all these years.”  

“You can stop saying sorry now El. I just want to get this out.” 

“But I am sorry, Liv,” he tells her with insistence, and for a second she thinks he’s about to pull over the truck so that he can once again truly get through to her exactly how sorry he is, but she waves her hand towards him and smiles with a reassuring nod.  

“I'm sorry too,” she admits, stretching her smile. 

He looks confused. “What are you sorry for?” 

“I left once too, remember? ” 

Elliot smiles now, small but genuine. “Oh, I remember, Persephone,” he scoffs and she laughs. 

The consideration to make a joke about Dani Beck is on the tip of her tongue, but the thought of that blonde haired partner-snatcher makes her stomach churn. Besides, she's given Elliot enough whiplash for today. 

As the truck pulls closer to town, the bright sparkling lights from all the decorations gleam through the air. From this distance, against the snowy backdrop of mountains, the town looks like a holiday postcard scene come to life. 

Olivia smiles at Elliot, and he smiles back, both understanding the beauty in the magical scenes they are now driving through. 

Elliot shakes his head and chuckles as he passes by the town's giant focal point tree. and she laughs lightly. “What is it?” Olivia asks. 

“All this,” he almost scoffs again, bobbing his head towards the cozy and intimate looking Christmas markets. “Have we ever in our time together driven through a more perfect scene? Hopefully not a perp in sight.” 

“Oh,” she mocks, shaking her head. “Trust me, you get some characters here too.” Olivia considers sharing some examples but thinks better of it. This moment was too perfect. 

“Will Noah still be up?” Elliot asks as he pulls into the deserted town carpark. Thankfully, they are still alone; everyone is either involved with festivities in the center of town or home and wrapped up warm. 

“Yeah,” she nods. “Leo doesn't like waiting around so he has probably taken him to the other side of town. There's some activities on for the kids, a small concert of locals sharing their talents, tubing, sleigh/dog sled rides.” 

He looks downhearted and the sight of him takes Olivia back. What she’s explaining sounds like the perfect life, like every child's dream. “It’s great for the holidays,” she adds in, attempting to consider his feelings. “Not so much all year-round.” 

Elliot runs a hand over his head. “Honestly Olivia,” he sighs. “I don't know how to compete with what you have here.”

“It's not a competition Elliot,” she tells him, in an attempt of reassurance. 

She almost didn't want to look at his face. She didn't know how to articulate what she was thinking. They’d kissed and she knows she loves him-she's always loved him-but it's not just her she needs to consider. If she were here alone she would have more options. Inevitably, regardless of if Elliot had ever showed up, she would have broken Leo’s heart. He was falling too deep, too fast, and until the last few days she didn't understand why she had been holding back. Now she does, and her heart has apparently forever been adamant on holding out for one person, but still knowing this doesn't make it any easier. She’s created a hole for herself that she can’t, for now, figure out how to get out of. 

“What does today mean, Olivia?” Elliot asks, breaking her train of thought, but she doesn't respond how he expects. Instead of going quiet and presenting dejected, she sits up straighter in her seat and stares at him with a strict intensity. 

“Elliot, I can't make any rash decisions,” she announces with an edge of command to her voice. “This is a lot for me to process. I don't,” she stumbles over her words, “I don't even know what you want.”

“You,” he says with all the confidence of twenty years of longing behind him. “You, Olivia. I’ll wait, I’ll give you time, I’ll be as close or as far as you want, but what I want is you.” 

Olivia's breathing deepens. She’s at a total loss for words.  

The truck is parked. The engine is off and she's more alert of the quick escape of heat in the last few seconds then she was moments ago. 

“I should go,” she finally says, and she can see the instant confusion wash over his troubled blue eyes. “I’m not running away,” she admits. “I promise. I just need to think, sleep on this, consider the options.” 

He nods in acknowledgement, but the tension doesn't ease. He’s trying to bury his reaction, hide the fear that's no doubt taking over. 

“Olivia,” he finally says, breaking his silence. “Am I intruding on true love here?” 

She can't help it. No longer trying to keep her emotions in check, she laughs. “This isn't a fairytale Elliot,” she jokes, making light of his question. It's honest, of course, but the full answer is loaded with too many variables to consider right now. 

He doesn't laugh with her. Instead, he continues to stare at her, waiting patiently for her full answer, an answer that can either fill him with hope or dash all of his dreams in the breath of a whisper. 

Olivia shuffles awkwardly, begins to chip away at the maroon nail polish she had gelled on last week. “Leo is a good man, a very good man,” she begins, and she isn't sure who's holding their breath more, her or him. “But I’m not in love with him. I maybe believed I was,” she continues to admit, bravely. “I even think, sometimes, I had hoped I was, but no, El, I’m not in love with him.” 

He smiles, kisses her lips softly, and she hums in pleasant surprise. 

“Are you going to tell him?” he asks, as he pulls away. 

Olivia takes a deep breath, climbs out of the truck, and when she's on her feet to face inwards, she shakes her head. “Not tonight, El. I don't think I can handle it,” she confesses and he nods at that. He couldn't possibly blame her. 

“Whenever you're ready,” he agrees. “I’ll walk you to your truck.” 

And to his surprise she agrees.  

The parking area is derelict at this time of night. There’s mounds of snow where the onslaught of traffic and vehicles’ tires have been moving it aside throughout the day. All the little shops they pass by are closed m, and un-lit holiday decorations hang in the windows next to signs that read ‘closed.’ The only illumination is the dim yellow of streetlights casting a shade on the ground, which perfectly captures their shadows. 

Walking side by side, just like the old days. 

“You’ve matured,” he suddenly says with a smirk, and she knits her brow towards him. 

“I hope you don't mean physically?” she jests, full of sarcasm, and he roars with a laughter that fills the street. 

“No,” he insists. “You look more beautiful now than you ever did,” he tells her, and he looks away when he notices her blush because she will hate the compliment, never could take one. “But that's not what I mean.” 

“So what do you mean?” she asks, swiftly recovering from and swerving the flattering remark. 

“I was referring to how you are allowing me to walk you to your car,” he says with a shoulder to shoulder bump, and now she laughs. He’s not wrong.  

Olivia gestures across the way to her parked truck. “That’s me,” she tells him, and she can hear the edge of disappointment in her own words. 

“This is you,” he repeats with a sigh, and tucking his hands in his pockets, he rocks, rather awkwardly, onto his toes for a moment before they both begin to speak in unison.

“No, you go,” Elliot offers and Olivia chuckles, re-composing her sentence. 

“When do you go home?” she asks, wrapping her arms around herself to appear to be protecting from the cold, but really she knows her guard is ready for his answer. 

“I leave Christmas Eve,” he tells her solemnly. 

Olivia nods; she had mentally braced herself for his answer. “And when will you be back after then?” 

He shuffles on his feet, removes his hands from his pockets to take a hold of hers. “I can come back New Years Eve…If you’d be happy for me to?” 

“I’d like that,” she smiles. 

Christmas Eve is the day after tomorrow, New Year’s Eve is nine days away. Olivia can work with that; Noah and Leo can still have an undisrupted Christmas day. Then, she has a week to decide her plans. It would be cruel to string Leo along for any longer, but no matter how fierce her feelings for Elliot are, no one deserves a broken heart on Christmas. 

“Will you have time to see me before I go?” he asks, hopeful, and she hesitates for a moment before nodding. 

“Leo will be taking Noah to visit his parents. I tend to keep my distance anyway, so it won't be suspicious if I don't go.”  

“I’m already looking forward to it,” he tells her as he drapes his arms around her shoulders and pulls her in for a kiss. “I can't believe this is finally happening.” 

“I’m still not quite sure this is real,” she says as she kisses him back. 

This kiss is deeper and longer than previous ones. They aren't exactly hidden out of sight, thanks to the illumination from the street light they had stepped under, and the sudden flash of potential outcomes that fall through Olivia's thoughts like an avalanche are enough to cause her to break apart. 

“Christmas Eve,” she says with a gentle push to his shoulders. Glancing behind him, Elliot checks for anybody around them, understanding the difficult situation Olivia would be in if anyone was to see them.

She is, after all, still in a relationship with one of the town's most prominent men.  

As Olivia looks over hers, she breathes a sigh of relief that the coast looks clear. 

“Christmas Eve, text me the time,” he says, before turning to leave, and she swears that man walks off with the most pleased of expressions and a spring in his step. 

It's a small walk to her truck. The center of the area, where this morning had the only available space left to park, is now under a blanket of complete darkness. There's a brief respite when she presses the key fob, and the lights from the truck brighten up the road around her. Olivia has to double look then; it was difficult to notice from a distance, but that now she's closer, she's positive she can identify another vehicle, a smaller car, conveniently disguised by her much larger truck. 

The sharp sudden sound of the car's door slamming puts Olivia on instant high alert. She would never have dropped her guard and walked the streets of New York in conditions such as this but here, in Alaska, she must have relaxed. 

The profile of the person heading around their car and towards her isn't anyone she would deem as a danger, but when Olivia casts her eyes on the features of the woman who it is, she sharply remembers a physical threat isn't the only thing to be concerned about. 

“Mya,” Olivia calls out with a cautious smile, recognising the woman who owns the market shop. It was only days ago she was inserting herself so insistently into Olivia's love life. 

Then Olivia's heart drops a beat. What had Mya seen? 

“Olivia,” Mya draws out with a sneer. “Have you had a good evening with your new friend?” she asks, pacing herself around Olivia's truck to come face to face with her. 

Olivia holds Mya’s eyes.

There was calculated caution when Elliot had picked her up this morning, and at some point since then, her priorities had shifted in a way she didn't know they could. Affection in an albeit apparently empty parking area was still a larger display than she had ever afforded to Leo, and if anyone in town was ever aware of how much Olivia's lack of public sentiment affected Leo, it was Mya. 

Silence lingers for an uncomfortable moment. Mya could never make a good poker player; her joy at the discovery of Olivia with another man is written plainly across her face, and Olivia could never forwardly lie, so she answers as honestly as she can without throwing herself to the wolves. 

“Yes, thank you. Old friend, not new. Have you had a nice evening?” 

Mya scoffs a laugh, shaking her head. “Or as much fun as you, it appears.” There was almost a snarl with her words. This could escalate very quickly. 

Olivia wanted to come back with a quick retort, but it unnerved her to think of Mya breaking Leo's heart for her two days before Christmas. “What do you want?” she asks instead, getting straight to the point. 

“I knew he was too good for you,” Mya informs her, and Olivia smiles falsely. “There was always something about you I didn't trust,” she continues. 

Olivia tilts her head to the side, remains neutral as Mya continues her character assassination. “I tried to tell Leo there was something suspicious with you, how you suddenly arrived here in search of a new life. No father for your child, a successful career left behind.” 

“Do you have a point?” Olivia interjects, trying to hurry the conversation along. Her blood runs cold at the thought of Elliot over hearing this conversation. He was protective when they were supposed to be just friends.

She can only imagine how he would be now. 

“Yes, actually I do,” Mya counters. “ You need to tell Leo about your… friend or else I'll tell him tomorrow at lunch.” 

“You're having lunch with Leo tomorrow?” Olivia asks with genuine confusion, and Mya retorts with a simple self-assured head nod. 

“I have business to discuss and thought it was best with food.” 

Olivia smiles. She had never been blind to Mya’s desperation to involve herself with Leo, but she had gravely underestimated the lengths she will go to. 

“The day after Christmas,” Olivia replies with an iron will. 

Mya pouts, raps her finger over the side of Olivia's truck. “Tomorrow,” she insists, and Olivia shakes her head. 

“No. I have a son and it's Christmas.” 

Mya sighs deeply, as if she's tiring of the conversation. “Tomorrow,” she repeats, rounding the side of her car and slipping inside, shutting the door. 

Apparently the conversation is over and Olivia shakes her head, leaning her back against the side of her own vehicle to watch Mya drive by. 

Flaunting a little arsenic wave as she goes, Olivia rolls her eyes. 

What is she going to do?