(Disclaimer: Not mine. It all belongs to the good folks at NBC.)
(Note: Before someone asks me - I am not trying to spam ff net. It might seem like I am - but I just have a backlog of fics that were never posted to this account.)
Christmas. I don't celebrate it and she's said she doesn't see the point of taking time off, when the rest of the guys have families, maybe a kid or two and she doesn't has anyone to spend the time with.
"Liv?" I call across the empty room, looking up from finishing paperwork I've been sitting on for weeks.
Olivia puts down her pen and stretches in her chair. "Yeah?" She's up now, walking to the coffee pot.
"Is there really no one for you to spend time with?"
"John, how long've you and I been working holidays?" She throws the question over her shoulder, pouring herself a cup of coffee. "If there was someone for me to spend time with, I wouldn't be here."
"Not one relative?" I feel like I'm prying, but I feel like I have to know, all of the sudden.
"No," she says, flatly. "That's why I'm stuck in here with you," she jokes, trying to lighten the situation.
A few more minutes of work go uninterrupted and then she looks up. "It's snowing," she comments, suddenly.
I glance up and see she's right. The snow's begun to fall outside. Not light little flurries - but enough to say we're going to get a good amount, when it's done.
A few more minutes pass in silence and then I notice that the faint scratching of her pen has stopped. She's left the room. I assume she's gone to the ladies' room but when she doesn't return, I have an impulse to check the roof.
And sure enough, there she is, snow falling around her as she looks out on the city, hands stuffed in her coat pockets. "What are you doing up here?"
She jumps, startled and looks at me, sheepish. "It's snowing - it's Christmas. I used to hope for things like this, when I was a kid. I'd hope I'd wake up and see snow on the ground - covering everything. But being in the city, it was kind of wishful thinking."
"Apparently not," I comment, taking in the view alongside her. "It's happening now, isn't it?"
She laughs, a sound no one hears enough. "It's a little bit late, but you're right."
There's snow in her hair, colour in her face. What is it with weather and making women look far more gorgeous than they already are?
Giving into impulse, I kiss her cheek, turned pink by the cold. She looks at me, stunned and I'm anticipating a slap and I'd deserve it. But instead, she draws her gloved hand from her coat pocket and reaches for mine. Christmas, even though neither one of us celebrates it seems to have worked something neither one of us was expecting.