A/N: Christmas Eve brings a few surprises along with it.

DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and the characters; TStabler© owns the story you're about to read.

"Well," Elliot says, sighing as he leans back on the couch. "Kids are asleep, presents are wrapped, dishes are done. I think we can actually relax."

Olivia drops her head to his shoulder and scoots closer to him. "Thank God," she mumbles.

He laughs as he pulls the red and green throw around them. He reaches for the small remote on the arm of the sofa, and he hits a few buttons. Slow, sweet music fills the air and the fireplace in front of them lights up. He turns his head and he kisses her, gentle and soft.

"What was that for?" she asks, tilting her head.

"Since when do I need a reason to kiss you?" he asks in return. He watches her shrug, then he smiles and kisses her again. "Merry Christmas," he whispers, moving his lips down her mouth, over her chin, across her neck.

She moans despite the desire to push him away and simply relax for the evening. "El, what are you doing?"

"We haven't been alone all week," he says, his tongue trailing along the outer rim of her ear. He feels her shiver in his arms, and he chuckles. "Kids have been off from school, we've been surrounded by crazy teens and a crying toddler."

She whimpers as she feels his hands slip under her tee shirt, smooth over her stomach, and rest over her sensitive nipples. She gasps when he caresses them, moans when he rolls them in his fingers, and she yelps a bit when he pinches them. "Fuck," she hisses.

"Language, Detective Benson," he teases, rolling them again. He looks into her eyes, seeing them darken, and he knows his ministrations are making her wet. She only curses like that when she can't control things, and he loves that he can bring that out of her.

She wants to fight against him, she wants to regain some kind of control of this, but she can't move. He has her right where he wants her and he knows it, and she's helpless against him. Especially with the fire roaring and the romantic holiday tune filtering through the room. She's weaker than she has ever been.

He notices, and he growls as he drops his hands to her flannel pants. He pulls them down just a bit and teases the skin just below her navel. "You're so soft," he whispers, his palm flattening and sliding into her pants. He cups her freshly-waxed mound, and he moans. "So smooth."

She moans his name, her head falls back, hitting the couch, and she bucks her hips a bit into his hand. She wants him, she needs him, but it's Christmas Eve and they made a promise to each other. "El," she pants, biting her lip as he pushes a finger into her. "Oh, God, El."

He nips at the skin of her neck as he squeezes a second digit into her warmth. "You're so wet," he mutters to her. "Just for me, right?"

Forgetting her exhaustion, she nods. "You do this to me," she breathes, her hips rocking with the thrust of his hand. "Only you."

"Damn right," he grunts, twisting his fingers. He crashes his lips into hers, his tongue dances with hers almost in time to the music. His free hand grips her and he rolls, pulling her on top of him.

She laughs and pulls the blanket around her like a cape, watching him wrestle with the button on his own pajama bottoms. She bites her lip and drops her hands to his legs, helping to free him.

"Oh, God, yes," he whispers, his eyes closing. He moans softly as she strokes him, and he whispers her name. His eyes pop open and dart to hers, though, when he feels her sink onto him fully. He wraps his hands around her hips and kisses her roughly as she begins to ride him, slow and deep.

She chuckles against his mouth, her success in finally having the upper hand makes her proud, and she kisses him back with a ferocity that scares him a bit. She feels his hands grip her harder, and she lets him move her faster.

"So long," he grunts, their kiss muffling his words. "It's been too fucking long, baby." He feels her tighten around him, and he holds her down as he slams up into her. He needs this, now, and he doesn't want to wait anymore.

She whines, cups his face, and cries into his mouth. Her moans are high and fast, the pressure in her body is building intensely, and just as fast as she took back control she loses it again.

The noise he catches with his lips is something between a growl and a scream, and he feels her tighten around him, feels her wetness seep down his length and hit his thigh, and knowing what it all means sets him off.

She feels him tense beneath her and she listens to the series of grunts and "Oh, God"s that fly out of his mouth. She pulls away from his mouth to look into his eyes as he cums, and she sees them widen then shut tightly. He mesmerizes her.

Breathing heavily, he smoothes his hands over her back and kisses her gently to calm them both down. He turns his head to look at the clock, and he laughs. "We're supposed to be relaxing," he says. "The fire, some hot chocolate, and one gift each tonight. Guess I got a little...distracted."

She nods with a laugh, and she kisses his lips again. But his gaze is not on her anymore. She bites her lip, knowing he sees something he should have noticed long ago. "What?"

"What is that?" he asks, nudging her off of him and adjusting his pants. He stands and walks over to the tree. "Liv, what the hell is on the..." He stops speaking when he realizes it.

She presses her lips together and stands, pulling her bottoms up. She moves toward him and watches him pull the homemade ornament off of the green branch. "That's...that's your present. One of them."

He turns and he stares for a moment. "You...you put this on the...you just weren't gonna show this to me?"

"If you didn't notice it, I was going to..." she yelps, forgetting what she was saying, when his arms wrap around her and he swoops her into his arms.

"Really?" he asks, his once dark eyes now bright and wet with tears. His hand clutches the clear, plastic ornament. Inside, the pregnancy test with red and green ribbon tied around it sits with a blue plus sigh for a smile. He swings her around again, and he laughs. "Really?"

"Yes," she says, smiling at him.

He kisses her, this time not caring about leading to something, not caring about making her feel anything but pure joy. "I love you," he whispers. "This is probably the best Christmas present ever."

She laughs and kisses him once more. "Well, then, you're gonna have an incredible Father's Day present," she says with a grin.

"June?" he chuckles. "You're due in June? When did you find out?"

"Last night," she says, nuzzling his nose with hers. "When I took the test." She kisses him. "Before you say anything, I took five. All positive." She wipes the tears away from his eyes with her thumbs. "Merry Christmas, El."

His answer is another kiss, and he forgets all about giving her the box he wants her to open tonight. He leads her back to the couch, his lips attached to hers, and he figures he can wait. She can't use it at the moment. She's busy, and will be until the wee hours of Christmas morning.

A/N: Merry Christmas to all, and to all a goodnight! Much love and joy on the holiday, no matter what you celebrate. Thanks for reading.