A/N: I realize that my last one-shot was stupidly painful, but this one is better. There is no death or physical harm, I promise! Enjoy.

It's been six months since you've taken the ring off of your finger. Six months since you moved out of the house in Queens and into the apartment in Brooklyn with two bedrooms because that's all you can afford on a cop's salary. Not like it matters- you rarely spend time there. Instead, you do so much overtime that you propel yourself into the next tax bracket, so now you're actually losing money.

Then, instead of taking it easy, spending more time in that empty apartment where you feel like banging your head off a wall, you start signing out earlier and staying later. You sleep in the cribs most nights, on the lumpy mattress that gives you a backache in the morning. But it's a small price to pay. At least at the station, you can pretend someone is waiting for you. You can tell yourself that, when you go home, it won't be to an empty shell.

It's Friday night. Cragen has been wise on your scheme for weeks now, and it's one of those nights where he threatened to suspend you if you didn't get the hell out of the precinct. So you step through the doorway of that dark, empty apartment and stare at the bare, bleak walls. You've tried to pick out furniture for the place, but every time you do, you end up staring blankly at the kitchen or living room sets, wondering just what the hell the difference is between a pine kitchen table and an oak one. Kathy was always the interior decorator when you were together. You only cared about a couch, a television and a decent bed to sleep in. Here, the plain, bleak interior only succeeds in making you more lonely.

And you've never been more lonely than you are now. The painfully awkward dates that you go on don't help, they just seem to make you remember what you've lost.

For all the strength you pretend to have around your partner, the victims, the perps, your boss, there's an equal amount of pain behind it all. You miss coming home to your children's laughter and the delicious smell of whatever your wife- ex-wife- has prepared. You miss cuddling up with her on the couch after the kids were banished to their rooms and making out like the teenagers you used to be. And, perhaps most of all, you miss sleeping with a warm, soft body next to yours. You can't marry the job, but even if you could, it wouldn't keep you warm at night.

You sit down on the couch and turn on the sports channel- almost as soon as you moved into this place, you subscribed to the sports package that cost you an obscene amount of money because it's one of the only comforts you have these days.

It's not long before there's a knock on your door. When you open it, Olivia stands on the other side, a six pack of beer dangling from one hand and a paper bag from the other. "Hey."

"What're you doing here?"

She holds up the six pack. "You need another reason?"

You eye the bottles hesitantly- Guinness. Your favorite, and the one beer that she can't stand the taste of.

You step aside for her, close the door after she enters, and sit back down on the couch, reaching for the remote to turn off the Rangers game that's been blaring on as a background to your thoughts.

"Don told me he kicked you out of the cribs a couple hours ago," she says.

You open one of the Guinness bottles and take a long swig. You can't say you're surprised. You've seen Cragen's concerned gazes from across the bullpen. What you are honestly surprised about is how long it's taken for your partner to notice.

"It's easier to stay in the cribs than drive up here every night," you mumble with a shrug. "It's not like anyone here would miss me."

Olivia pulls a white takeout box and a pair of chopsticks out of the paper bag and hand them to you. "Chicken and broccoli."

"Thanks," you say, opening the carton. You're not very hungry, but you eat anyway.

"No problem," Olivia says, taking a bite from her own carton. "Do you want to talk?"

"Not really," you answer. There's nothing really to talk about… nothing that you want to share, at least. You get enough of your own thoughts, even the idea of sharing them hurts.

"Okay." She takes the remote off of the table and presses the power button. The announcer of the Ranger's game blares from the speakers next to the TV.

And the two of you sit in companionable silence, eating and watching, even though you know she can't stand hockey. You eat slowly, still not hungry, just to do something with your hands and because you know if you don't eat anything you'll feel worse in the morning. And, even though you said that you didn't want to talk, pressure is building in your chest. It would be so easy to release- she's here. She wants to listen.

"I tried to be a good husband," you say finally, unable to continue holding the words in your chest. "It just… wasn't enough."

"I know that, El," she answers gently. "You did the best you could. That was all you could do, there's no shame in that."

"You're wrong," you find yourself whispering. You can't find it in your heart to say that you couldn't have done better. You could have. You could have tried harder to make it home to Kathy. You could have tried to leave your anger outside the door. You could have tried harder to make her happy. But you didn't. And you lost the best thing in your life. "Liv, I-

You suddenly can't breathe.

"Hey," Olivia whispers, scooting closer to you. Her arms wrap around you and suddenly you find yourself against her chest.

It's been months since you've been this close to someone. Your eyes slowly slide closed as you release a breath, and it feels like the weight of the world has suddenly been lifted off of your shoulders. The warmth of another body close to you... one of the things that you've missed the most. Your arms slide around her waist.

"I'm not wrong," she whispers in your ear.

"Until you have to live with me…" you swallow back the lump in your throat, setting your cheek against her shoulder. She'd never understand. She sees everything you have. The cases are the only things you've put your absolute, full effort into lately. Your family life is the thing that has suffered the greatest. Idiot. You're such an idiot for letting it happen.

"I can do one better, I have to work with you," she says.

You feel the corner of your mouth twitch in something close to a smile. "Yeah, yeah, yeah."

You should let go of her, but your arms are frozen in place and her warmth is too intoxicating to pull away from. Thank God she doesn't seem to mind, because she's not pulling away, either. So the two of you sit there on the couch, arms wrapped around one another. And it really does make you feel a little bit better. Having a warm body to comfort you- especially the one of your partner- takes away the ice that has been eating away at your insides since you moved out of Queens.

"Thank you," you whisper, finally pulling away far enough to look her in the eye.

"Don't. I'm your partner," she answers. "And I'll always be here for you."

"Thank God for that."

She pulls you back against her, and you remain locked together for an indeterminable amount of time. No matter how long it's been, you still don't want this to end. Ever. You feel more at peace than you have in months, just having her against yours, soothing without words. Why haven't you done this sooner? How did it take you so long to experience this- finally having her hold you tightly?

Those thoughts abruptly stop as you feel her body moving. Before you can protest, she's releasing you and slowly getting to her feet. Words sputter from your lips before you have a chance to stop them. "Liv, wait."

You swallow. Regain your composure. Take a deep breath and try to speak, but only the word "I" comes out. Pathetic. You just feel pathetic all around, and if that's not bad enough, your partner has to see you like this. But looking at her eyes, you realize that you don't care. She's the only one that takes the crushing weight off of your shoulders.

"I just… don't want to be alone," you finally get out, words raw and hoarse with emotion.

You almost want to laugh at yourself, you think she might join in, but the closest thing you see is a small smile that spreads across her face. "Well, I guess it's a good thing I'm not leaving. Now c'mon. This couch is even less comfortable than the crib mattresses."

You've never noticed how small her hands are until she's got one of them wrapped around one of yours. As she pulls you down the hall towards your bedroom, you can't pull your gaze away from the link that connects the two of you, even when she flips the light switch on and turns towards you.

"You need some sleep in a real bed," she says. "I'm going to stay right here until that happens."

The statement is oddly comforting; you've gone to bed alone far too often these past few months. But you also can't help the apprehension and slight confusion that also rises in your chest. She's going to stay with you… while you sleep?

You can't say that you haven't dreamt about sharing a bed with her. Having the comfort of her body to lull you to sleep. But you don't know what to expect and it's bringing something dangerously close to fear to your mind.

Olivia smooths her hands over your shoulders. You can't help but think that you've reached the touching quota for the year with her, but you just want her to touch you more.

"Lay down, El," she whispers.

You find yourself sinking onto the bed. Olivia's eyes focus on you as you lift your legs onto the mattress and rest your head on the pillow. A sigh falls from your lips… it's so comfortable here. It's been too long since you've given your muscles the opportunity to rest on a surface that wasn't hard or lumpy.

Olivia sits at the edge of the bed. You move over quickly, then pat the empty space that you've left. You want to ask her to lay wth you, but your words are caught in your throat. You're insane for asking this of her- she just wants to make sure you're okay, that you're taking care of yourself. You can't help but want more from her. You're already breaking rules tonight, so why not one more?

She understands. She always seems to understand. You're almost shocked when her body spreads out next to you and she reaches to turn off the lamp, leaving you and her in complete darkness.

And you can't breathe. Olivia is laying beside you. Your partner. Olivia.

Your hand slowly slides across the empty mattress between the two of you- just for one simple touch. You just want to feel her next to you so you know that you're not hallucinating, or dreaming, or crazy. Just to know that she really is beside you and you're really not alone.

But your muscles freeze and suddenly, you can't. If she's not there, you don't want to know. If she is there, you don't want to embarrass yourself further. You've already been weak enough. You're surprised she's still here at all.

She's your best friend, though. More than your best friend- you can't even tell what she really is, what the two of you have. You know deep down that she wouldn't leave you. Or judge you. Or let you live in pain all alone.

"Liv," you find yourself whispering. Wetness pools in your eyes. A lump has formed in your throat that you cannot swallow.

"Mhm?" she murmurs through the dark.

"Th-thank you." It's not thanks just for tonight. It's for everything that she's ever done for you- for being the one person in your life that you trust completely. The one that you know will not abandon you, the one that will be here with you for as long as you need her. And that is irreplaceable.

Her warm skin covers the hand that still rests on the mattress that lays between the two of you. "I already told you. We're partners."

"You're more than that." She's your rock. Your life float- the one thing that's keeping you above water. No matter how high the waves crash overhead, you know you'll be brought to the surface, you know that she'll be there to save you.

Her hand pulls yours towards her body. You quickly take the hint, wrapping your arm around her waist.

"I know."

Your eyes slowly slide closed. Tonight, you won't mind sleeping here in your apartment. You won't dream of your ex-wife laying next to you, or your kids rushing to the door.

Tonight, you aren't lonely. You're with your partner, the woman that you can't even really describe your relationship with. The woman that you have so many feelings for but you can't share, can't understand, can't ever give up. And it's more than enough.

Deep down, you know that it's what you've wanted all along.

A/N: Thank God they're together :) Thinking about writing a second chapter to this, so let me know if you guys want more. Thanks for reading and be sure to leave your thoughts. Love you guys 3