A/N: Hi guys! This is my first SVU fanfiction, although some of you may remember me from other fandoms. Hello either way! I hope you enjoy the story and come back for the following chapters.

The first time had been out of necessity.

Olivia Benson and Elliot Stabler had been en route to Boston to interview a victim of a rapist whose MO had been similar to a horrific string of violent rapes in New York. The pair had one goal – to provide closure and a semblance of justice to these women who had their lives torn apart by one sick, twisted man. They weren't prepared to allow anything to hinder the progress of their investigation, not even heavy January snow.

Or so they thought.

The snow began softly falling when they left the precinct in New York. It persisted the whole way out of the city and across the border into Connecticut, ever so subtly increasing in volume as they drove closer to their destination. By the time they found themselves in the small town of Ashford, the snow was plummeting from the sky, totally obscuring any hope of making it any further tonight.

Unwilling to slip off the road and crash, Elliot pulled into the first motel off the 84 Interstate he could find.

"'Good Snoo Motel'?" questioned Olivia, reading the sign as it appeared. The two last non-functioning letters of the illuminated word 'Snooze' left a lot of room for ambiguity about the purpose of the motel itself and only served to increase the sleaziness.

Elliot only shrugged casually in response.

Inside, it was evident that the staff at the so called 'Good Snoo Motel' were handpicked by the owners. Richard, as his nametag proudly read, came across as nothing less than sleazy. Slicked greasy hair, overpowering cologne, way too much chest on display and an adult magazine spread out on the counter were all qualities of this fine specimen of a man.

Richard raked his gaze up Olivia's body, devoting more time to her chest than anywhere else, before regretfully dragging his eyes up to her face.

"Now what can I do for you, lil lady?" inquired Richard in a long drawl, lazily snapping his gum around the confines his mouth that Olivia suspected were long overdue for a clean.

Elliot frowned, stepping around Olivia, blocking her from view, disliking the creepy attendant's rather enthusiastic and apparent appreciation of his partner.

"We need two rooms, adjoining if possible," demanded Elliot.

Richard regarded him sceptically. He turned his back to the two, hunted around in a nearby drawer and produced one key for room 17, sliding it over into Elliot's reach.

"Sir, you and thirty other people have all come in demanding the same thing: a roof over their head and a bed at a cheap rate, all you travellin' folk. This is the best I can do for you, or you're welcome to sleep in your car in the parking lot. Except your pretty lady, she has somewhere to stay even if you decide not to," he winked.

"No, we'll take the room, thanks," growled Elliot, snatching the key off the counter and tugging Olivia along by the arm toward the rooms.

Once they were safely ensconced within the dingy, dated and disastrous motel room, Olivia made a beeline for the shower, desperate to eradicate the chill of winter that had seeped far into her bones. She stood under the scalding spray, the coldest parts of her body, her hands and feet, burning as the rest of her gratefully absorbed the warmth. She considered the strangeness of the circumstances that had lead them to Good Snoo tonight and the situation—no, scrap that, potential minefield—she was about to walk into once she left the safety of the four walls that made up the bathroom.

Grabbing the low quality white towel that was supplied, she quickly dried off, redressed and returned to the main room of their accommodation, only to find Elliot creating a makeshift bed from the ancient floral couch and the spare bedding from the cupboard.

"Elliot," she caught his attention "What are you doing?"

"Making my bed, Liv," he replied, gesturing to the half made up couch in front of him.

"The bed's already made, so there's no use making another," she reasoned.

"Bed's for you, Liv, I'll take the couch," he dismissed, continuing to pile blankets on the couch.

"Elliot, for God's sake we're both adults and it's freezing. We can share a bed, it's not a big deal," she protested.

"Liv, are you sure?" asked Elliot, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck "Do you want to put the cushions from the couch down the middle of the bed?" he suggested.

"Not unless you're going to put your cold feet on me in the middle of the night," replied Olivia, climbing into the bed and wrapping the blankets around her cold body. Elliot wordlessly accepted her reasoning, peeling back the covers on the empty side and sliding in next to her, the bed dipping under his weight. Olivia closed her eyes and feigned sleep; this was going to be a long night for sure.

3am eventually rolled around and Olivia was still wide awake. It had little to do with Elliot's overwhelming presence and more to do with the decreasing temperature in the room. He had been asleep for hours; his soft, yet noticeable deep breaths were a total giveaway. While Olivia, on the other hand, had spent the better part of the past four hours attempting to keep herself warm and cover up her shivering.

Would it really be so bad, seeking some warmth from her partner? It wasn't as if either of them would be committing any kind of moral trepidation, they were both single. It wasn't as if Cragen would find out they were sleeping in the same bed, much less that Olivia Benson was contemplating snuggling with her partner in the previously mentioned bed.

But what would this mean in the cruel, honest light of day? Would it be seen for what Olivia had intended, avoiding becoming an icicle, or something more romantically geared? She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth, contemplating her next move.

Oh, to hell with it.

She scooted closer to her partner, who was currently radiating an incredible amount of heat, but stopped short of actually touching him; the close proximity was enough to eradicate some of the painful cold she was feeling.

Sleeping Elliot, on the other hand, apparently had other ideas. Upon sensing her nearness, he snaked one muscular arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him, her back flush against his chest. As their legs began to tangle, Olivia started freaking out. Why on earth was sleeping with her partner of all people feeling so damn good? She'd bet her next paycheque that Munch and Fin don't sleep like this!

She needed a little bit of distance, maybe Elliot's line of pillows weren't such a bad idea after all. Was that why he suggested them, because he was well aware of the fact that he was a glorified snuggler in his sleep? Olivia attempted to pry his arm away from her, but his only response was to hold her tighter and nuzzle her hair, mumbling something that vaguely sounded like her name.

Olivia felt her eyes grow heavy, her eyelashes kissing her cheeks for a little longer than the average blink. Elliot's warmth was overwhelming. She decided that maybe she could sleep for awhile like this, then later escape the warmth of Elliot's embrace. Okay, just a little sleep.

The next morning, Elliot was painfully reminded that neither of them had closed the curtains last night before they went to sleep. Beaming rays of sun shone in through the large glass window and straight into his eyes.

He took account of his current situation carefully; crappy hotel room, crappy bed, crappy pillows, crappy blankets… except for the Olivia Benson blanket that was currently curled into him, the gentle rise and fall of her back telling him that she was still sound asleep.

He regretfully removed himself from bed to deal with the irritating light that was currently beaming through the glass. The snow had stopped falling, so they would be able to continue onto Boston today. After drawing the blinds closed, he knew he had two options: either get ready for the day and wait for Olivia to wake up or get back in bed with Olivia and pretend he never woke up and that the curtains were closed all along.

The latter was certainly the most appealing, and after all, it was only 6:30am.