A/N: Sadly, I don't own SVU. If I did, this might actually happen. Written for a Valentine's Day challenge.

"No hot date with Charlie tonight?" I ask. It's Friday night, we're the only two left in the squad room and I happen to know that she has tomorrow off. Time to sleep in after a night on the town.

"We broke up."

I don't say I'm sorry, because although I am, it won't really mean anything. To be honest, I'm a little surprised she still goes on dates. If I were her, I'd have given up by now.

Another half hour passes in silence and as I straighten a couple files on my desk, I say, "Well, I'm headin' out. See you." I get up and I feel guilty about leaving her there by herself. I almost turn back at the elevator, but then she's at my elbow and I look at her. A woman as beautiful as she is and she can't get a guy to stick around. The Job isn't only hard on men, I note.

The elevator begins to descend and I sneak another look at her. At the end of a long day, she is weary and it shows, but nonetheless, she is beautiful. I wouldn't mind being the man she goes home to, the one who brushes back her hair and gives her a sweet kiss on the lips. One corner of my mouth rises as I realize how impossible that is. She's moving now, and I realize we've reached the main floor, so I begin to follow her. She holds the door a second to allow me to get out as well. "Thanks." She smiles and starts off to the left. "You wanna grab something to eat?" I call after her.

She turns, the smile still lingering on her lips but I don't have the time to wonder why it's still there as I mentally curse my ultimate stupidity. "Sure."

I catch up to her. "Usual?"

"Sure," she repeats. We set off down the sidewalk and I fight the sudden urge to slip my hand in hers. How warm it would be and I would squeeze it gently and she would turn that gorgeous face up and smile and I wouldn't be able to resist and I would lean down and kiss her and then she would laugh.

I shake my head. Yeah, because I've got a chance, right? Huh.

Soon, we're seated in a booth in the rear of the diner, sipping at soda and waiting for our meals to arrive. "So, what happened with Charlie?" It's the only thing I can think of, and I realize it's probably not the best of topics, but I don't want to talk about work.

Olivia shrugs. "It wasn't working."

"Wasn't working with you, or wasn't working with your job?" I ask, betting on the latter.

"Actually, he was all right with what we do. He didn't ask more questions about it, nor did he immediately drop me. We just... we realized that we're not the best of couples."

I nod and sip my drink. "There could be worse."

She nods, but I can tell she had her hopes pegged on Charlie.

"You gonna be all right?"

"Yeah." A weak smile. "I just thought... the way he accepted what I did without argument, I thought he was..." The one, I think, and I know she's thinking of those words as well. She just can't say them out loud. My heart winces as I cockily think, I could be the one. Easy.

Our food comes and we spend the remainder of our time in the diner talking of other things, things that aren't quite so close to the heart. When we're finished, I insist that I pay, but on my trip to the bathroom, I'm pretty sure she took half the money I had put out and put her own in its place. We begin to walk down the sidewalk, as I've silently decided to walk her home, despite knowing she is more than capable of defending herself if need be. It's really more a case of not wanting to leave her company just yet.

Again, as a brisk wind blows down the deep corridor made so by the buildings surrounding us, I feel the urge to hold her hand in mine. Before I can go any further with my fantasy of simply holding hands, her hand slips into mine and I start, looking down at her. Her head remains steadily facing front, with no glance my way. I decide to take advantage of the situation and give her hand a light squeeze, a smile creeping upon my face. For some silly reason (probably the hope that just this very event would occur), I hadn't put my gloves on, and was now distinctly happy I hadn't. Her hand is so warm in mine.

All too soon, we are standing in front of her building and I flash back on those high school days where me and my date would stand awkwardly on her porch, while I decided whether or not I should kiss her and at the same time imagined her wondering if I was ever going to do anything. Olivia and I were facing each, and it doesn't take me nearly as long to decide that I'm going to kiss her. (I suppose a little bit of experience helped.) Her lips are soft and warm, and I imagine how warm her bed could be. I push the thought out of my head and I pull away a few centimeters and watch as our breath mingles in the air.

"You know," she starts quietly, "It's Valentine's Day."

Shoot, she was right.

"You wanna come up?"

Boy, do I ever. "Sure."