Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Thank you, Olivia, again.”

Olivia smiled at the young woman standing before her in the apartment doorway, shaking her head to dismiss her gratitude. She knew Cassie was nervous; beneath the confident, professional exterior – blonde hair twisted into a perfect bun; new navy blue suit sitting neatly on her tiny frame – Olivia knew she was anxious about her first job interview in years.

“It’s my pleasure, honestly,” she assured her, watching Cassie turn her eyes to her little girl, currently distracted fiddling with Olivia’s compass pendant. “She’s an angel… Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you?”

“No, thanks. I’ll use the walk to clear my head, prepare myself, you know.”

Olivia nodded. “Well, good luck. You’ve got this.” She had. Olivia knew that. In the sixteen months since she had met Cassie as a terrified nineteen year old who had just found out she was pregnant with her rapist’s baby, the young lady had come so far. She doted on her daughter, was determined to get this job and give Joy everything she could in life.

Cassie took a deep breath and looked, long, at Joy who held her hand out, babbling at her mother. Cassie took her tiny fingers in hers and pressed her lips to them. “I’ve got this,” she echoed. “Bye, baby. Be good for Olivia.”

Olivia held Joy still while Cassie kissed her daughter on both cheeks and the forehead.

“Call me, if you want us to meet you afterwards,” Olivia offered and Cassie nodded.

Then, with one last look at Joy she took a deep breath and headed down the corridor.

Olivia closed the door behind her and looked at Joy. The little one was the image of her mother: tiny, perfect features; blonde hair starting to curl as it got longer. Joy was still prodding at the compass, shaking it to move the stones inside. “You like that?” Olivia remarked, thinking wistfully of Elliot as she did every time she saw, or thought about, the gift. Elliot, who was still who knew where, doing who knew what. Elliot, who was actually never far from her thoughts, if she was honest with herself. She shook herself out of it and back to the present, bouncing Joy on her hip as she spoke to her. “Mama is going to ace that interview, isn’t she, Joy? Now, what shall we do today, huh? We could go to the park in a little while, if Noah ever wakes up! Shall we go and wake him? Shall we?”

… …

Olivia rocked Joy, trying to get her to settle, while she checked her phone again; called Cassie’s cell again; left a voicemail message. Again.

“I know, I know,” she murmured soothingly to the crying child, “You want your mom. She won’t be long.”

Olivia actually had no way of knowing that. She would have expected Cassie to have at least called by now, if not to have made it all the way back there. Her interview had been at eleven that morning, they were nearing four now. She had called the company she had been interviewing with, but their voicemail said they were closed. She didn’t want to overreact, but something didn’t feel right.

“Why is she still crying?” Noah grumbled, wandering back into the living room and dropping himself onto the couch, dramatically covering his head with a throw pillow.

“Because she didn’t expect to spend so long with us, did you?” Olivia said, setting her tone to try to calm Joy. “She misses her mom… And she’s probably hungry again… Noah, honey, do me a favour; just look through her bag and see if there’s extra formula in there.”

He didn’t budge and with how tightly he had the cushion to his ears there was a good chance he hadn’t heard her.

“Noah!”

She switched to a mixture of rocking and bouncing Joy, accompanying it with over exaggerated smiling, but it wasn’t making a difference.

Noah rolled so he could see her, easing the pillow away a little.

“Would you see if there’s any more formula in Joy’s bag, please? Cassie hadn’t planned on her being here this long, but there may be something in there.”

Noah dragged himself off the couch and Olivia tried holding Joy closer.

“… If not then we’ll have to see what we’ve got, won’t we? Mama said you really like carrots… Maybe we’ve got carrots.”

Joy didn’t seem at all interested in the prospect of carrots. In fact, the screaming seemed to intensify.

Olivia checked her phone again in case she hadn’t heard it over the crying. Nothing. Okay, it was time to call Fin and have him see what he could find out. She had just brought up the contact when Noah raised his voice so she would hear him.

“Er, Mom…” He turned to face her, no food in his hands but he did hold a small envelope. “There’s nothing like food but this has your name on it.”

He held it out to her and she put down her phone to take it from him. Joy quietened for a moment, seemingly intrigued by the new object in Olivia’s hand. Sniffling and rubbing at her eye as she watched Olivia slide the envelope open and extract a sheet of paper.

“Oh, you like this?” Olivia asked her, forcing a smile through the sinking feeling she now had. “Do you want to play with this?” She tucked the flap of the envelope back in so there’d be no sharp edges and handed it to Joy, who immediately scrunched it with both hands.

“What is it?” Noah asked.

Olivia gave it a quick read to decide whether she could share the contents with Noah and determined she couldn’t.

“It just… explains where she might be,” she told him, quickly putting Joy onto the floor, which caused her to recommence the crying. “Just play with Joy for a minute while I make a call, okay?”

Noah looked horrified at the thought of being left alone with the distressed child.

“Just see if you can distract her with the envelope,” she encouraged as she grabbed her phone, “or pull some of those faces you make when I ask you to clean up.”

Noah narrowed his eyes at her but he dropped to the floor beside Joy and did his best to entertain her.

Olivia slipped into the kitchen, dialling Fin immediately.

“It’s your day off!” he reminded without even greeting her.

“Fin, see if you can get an address for Joe Scanlon and get a car over there...” She pressed her free hand to her forehead, her mind already racing with the repercussions of what Cassie had probably done. “…I think Cassie’s done something incredibly stupid.”

“What? I thought —”

“Fin.”

“Okay. I’ll call you back.”

Olivia lowered her phone and read Cassie’s letter again. I had to. For Joy. I couldn’t let him see her. I had to keep her safe. Tell her I love her, Olivia.

“Cassie,” she breathed, painfully.

She could hear that Joy was still fussing in the other room and knew Noah was probably going insane. He hadn’t spent a lot of time around babies since he reached his pre-teen years, and apparently had very little patience for persistent crying.

She put the note in her pocket and kept her phone in her hand for Fin’s call, but she returned to the living room.

The look of relief on Noah’s face suggested it had been hours since she left him, not minutes, and he made an escape to do homework – apparently – as soon as she scooped up Joy from the floor.

She had finally managed to calm Joy down – having distracted her with more paper that she could scrunch while Olivia bounced her on her knee – when Fin rang and the little girl glared at the ringing phone as if it had offended her. Olivia would have enjoyed the adorable expression if she wasn’t filled with such dread as to what had happened to Joy’s mother.

“Fin?”

“It’s not good, Liv. Homicide’s on the scene…”

“No…” she breathed, despite expecting this outcome.

“… Cassie’s okay; Scanlon’s not. She confessed; waited at the scene for them to find her there.”

Olivia closed her eyes, briefly, trying to think clearly about what the next steps needed to be. “Will you call Trevor Langan? See if he’ll take the case.”

“Will do.”

“Keep me posted as to where they take her. I’ll find someone to stay here with the kids and I’ll get down there as soon as I can.”

Fin rang off and Olivia stared at Joy for a moment, trying not to let her mind race too far ahead to what would happen next for this little girl; to what the future held for her with her father dead, and her mother arrested, and no other living family. She had seen it too many times.

“It’ll be okay,” she whispered, despite Joy having no idea what was going on.

Then she raised her phone to call Amanda.

… …

“Trevor, thank you,” Olivia said, as he emerged into reception just as she was signing in at the desk.

He shook his head. “No need…” He glanced at the desk officer then encouraged Olivia to take a few steps away from the desk. “Listen, Liv, she… doesn’t want to see you.”

“What?”

“She asked me not to let you through…” No doubt in response to the confusion in Olivia’s brow, he added, “She’s embarrassed. Give her time.”

“Yeah…” she nodded, her mind reeling – still reeling from everything that had happened so far, and now with this as well. “God, why didn’t she tell me what was going on in her head?” Why had she not seen this coming?

“She knew you’d talk her out of it,” Trevor said, quietly, “she thought it was the only way.”

“I had no idea anything like this would even occur to her. She’s always seemed fine, she was in therapy, she was…” She trailed off; no matter what she had thought Cassie was, she had been wrong.

“You’re close?” Trevor asked.

“We stayed in touch after her case fell through – Fin gave you the details?” Trevor nodded. “It was her word against his and there was no evidence to back her up.” The helplessness she had felt at the time was tenfold now. “I honestly thought she was doing okay, Trevor. She didn’t say anything —”

“She didn’t tell you he was trying to get custody of her daughter?”

No. “What?” she breathed, completely blindsided again. “He’s wanted nothing to do with her.”

“Apparently he changed his mind. She was terrified that he would succeed —”

“Because there was no evidence of any wrongdoing on his part.”

Olivia dropped back against the nearest wall, running a hand over her increasingly tired eyes and aching head.

“There was nothing you could have done differently,” Trevor tried to reassure her. “As I understand it, she didn’t see a doctor, she didn’t have a rape kit, she didn’t tell anyone what had happened…”

“I know,” she said, dropping her hand and looking up at him with an attempt at a grateful smile.

“Doesn’t make it any easier to accept,” he acknowledged. He lowered his voice and stepped closer. “… I’ll do what I can, Liv, but she confessed, and it was pre-meditated.”

“I know.”

“… She told me you were babysitting Joy.”

“I was… Amanda is with her… I’ve made McGrath aware of the situation.”

“I bet he was thrilled.”

“He loves any hint of impropriety.”

“… Well then, I imagine he’ll like this even less…. Cassie wanted me to ask you to… take care of Joy… Permanently.”

Olivia couldn’t actually pin down any of the thoughts that were zipping through her mind as she stared at Trevor as if he had spoken to her in one of the languages she did not speak.

He carried on talking, something about having told Cassie that was a lot to ask; that Olivia didn’t need to feel obliged; that he could tell Cassie it just wasn’t possible.

“I’ll need to think about it,” she eventually managed to say, not sure where she would start with that, but knowing it was necessary.

“Of course,” he accepted. “You okay with keeping her overnight?”

She nodded. “Amanda and Carisi brought some stuff over… Been a long time since I had a baby in the house.” She had not expected to ever have one there again. At least not until grandchildren if they were ever to come along.

Trevor nodded and then looked at her for a long moment. “You okay?”

“Not really…” She pushed away from the wall, not voicing the ‘I should have seen this coming’ that he would just try to negate. And maybe she couldn’t have, but maybe she missed something and no amount of placating words were going to put her mind at ease any time soon. “I’d better get back… I’ll speak to you tomorrow.”

“If there’s anything I can do to help… with Joy…”

“Thank you.”

… …

Joy had been asleep on the couch when Olivia got home. An apologetic Amanda had explained that she wouldn’t settle in the travel cot Carisi had set up in Olivia’s room so she had moved her so that Noah might actually get some sleep.

She had woken again when Olivia attempted to move her after Amanda left, started crying almost immediately. And so, here they were, still on the couch, Olivia resting on a cushion against the arm; her legs bent behind Joy who was lounging on her front on Olivia’s chest, fiddling, again, with the compass. This, apparently, had the full attention of her little mind now, while Olivia tried to settle her own mind to think logically about the twist the day had taken.

So far, she had not made it much past the guilt that she must have missed something; that there must have been some indication of how scared Cassie was and what that fear had driven her to contemplate. She ran through every visit, every phone call, every text conversation from recent months; tried to recall specific words or tone or expression; to see if, in hindsight, she could see what must have been there. She was achieving nothing except driving herself crazy with frustration.

She forced herself to push the guilt aside, to focus on the fact that there was nothing she could do now to change the situation. Whatever she should or could have done earlier, she hadn’t done it. And there were pressing matters in the present that needed her attention. One in particular who was now babbling away to herself as she tapped the compass against Olivia’s chin.

Cassie wanted me to ask you to take care of Joy. Permanently.

She didn’t like that her first thought when Trevor had said that was of Elliot. The first coherent thought that managed to coaslesce amidst the madness was simply, “But… Elliot.” Only there was no simply about it – there never had been when it came to the two of them. It was just two words but a bucket load of feeling – a churning in her abdomen; nausea in her throat; the urge to scream; the simultaneous desire to speak to Elliot about it and to not ever have to face him with that conversation.

And now, as she took hold of Joy’s little hand and reminded her to be gentle with the necklace, she couldn’t persuade her thoughts past Elliot again. She had been making progress while he had been gone – and before, between January in her kitchen and May at the library and in his squadroom and in her office and in Ohio, she had been trying to let herself trust in the terrifying possibilities of a future with Elliot. She had been trying to believe that she deserves happiness and had stopped denying the fact, to herself, that she wanted to find it with Elliot.

She had been trying. And she had been making progress. And, despite the unknown distance between them currently, she had been closer than ever to taking a chance. And maybe it all would have fallen at the first hurdle when he returned and she bottled it, but now she would never know.

Because the direction of her thoughts about Elliot made it quite clear that she had no intention of refusing to take in Joy. How could she turn this little girl over to an unknown future when she could, she knew, take care of her? When she and Noah had enough love to give to another family member. Of course, she would have to discuss it with Noah; she knew he would have his apprehensions, but she hoped he would see that Joy needed them.

But she couldn’t stop her mind from wondering what Elliot would say. She could imagine his disappointment, or his infuriation, that she had been put in this position again. Despite saying he would support her to become a mother, he had never been massively – or at all – supportive when children had been signed into her care. When she was “playing mom”.

What would he have said if he had been there when she found Noah? He would have known from the start that she had pinned hope on being able to care for him herself; would he have said it was never going to happen; would she have pursued it if he had? Would he have needed to say anything, in fact? Would she have talked herself out of it simply based on what she imagined he would say? Based on how much it would change her life and, potentially, their partnership.

She stopped herself before she went too far down that road. It wasn’t fair to put words in Elliot’s mouth. He had been nothing but supportive of her role as a parent since he returned; his eyes practically sparkled with pride whenever Noah came up in conversation.

But would he support this? Would he still want to pursue a relationship with her when she had a barely one year old child to care for? He had done the children part of his life; he was in the grandchildren era. He should be looking forward to quiet weekends and an empty nest and Noah was one thing, five or six more years and he would probably leave for college. But Joy would be a lifetime. They would be in their seventies by the time she graduated high school. She couldn’t expect him to want this.

And should she be giving so much consideration to a relationship that had not even started? To a man who wasn’t here. Again. To a life she had never really thought would be hers. When there was a little girl right here, in her arms, who needed her now and who, Olivia knew, she could never turn away.

Things keep changing.

Well. Now, they had changed again.

Chapter Text

She was trying not to laugh, she really was. And she was trying very hard not to say I told you so. But, she did, tell him so, and from the look on Trevor’s face when he met her eyes, she was failing spectacularly at hiding her glee.

“I’ll get you a cloth,” she told him, anticipating the opportunity to unleash her smile once her back was to the table.

“No, please, don’t get up on my account. I’m sure it won’t be the last; we can sort it out when we’ve finished eating.”

She looked, again, at the red stain against the pale blue of his shirt; glanced at Noah who was not even attempting to hide his amusement and pursed her lips as she nodded. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

“I knew the risk I was taking,” Trevor smiled at her, before he looked back to Joy, in her highchair, the child a picture of innocence, smiling angelically at the source of her next spoonful of food. Whether she intended to eat it or deposit it with the previous one onto Trevor remained to be seen.

They were just about to find out, seated in anticipatory silence, when a distant knocking could be heard coming from the apartment door.

Olivia frowned, looked again at Noah. “Did you invite someone over?”

Noah chuckled; that had been her go to question since he was old enough to understand it. He shook his head as she excused herself.

She made her way to the door with some trepidation, despite knowing there was only a handful of people who would be allowed up without contacting her to ask permission first. She checked the peephole and immediately swung open the door.

“Elliot…”

And for a second, she felt guilty. For a moment she saw the scene in her kitchen as Elliot was going to see it – how domestic it looked; Trevor looking quite at home in her home. And Joy… She had wanted to explain about Joy before he met her; had wanted to plan how to tell him, be ready to defend herself.

But then the more important fact that Elliot was standing in front of her kicked in. He was back; he was there. And she hadn’t done anything wrong, so she pushed aside her concerns and took him in.

He was smiling, and it appeared genuine; he didn’t look as if the case had left him too traumatised. She knew he could – and would – pretend everything was fine, even if it wasn’t, but, right then, his eyes were crinkled at the corners and he hadn’t taken them off her for a second since she opened the door.

“You’re back,” she commented, redundantly.

He nodded, his brow creasing into a small frown. “Noah didn’t tell you?”

And now she frowned. “Noah?”

“I called to see if it was okay to come over; if you were home.”

“I must have been in the shower.”

“Is it a bad time?”

It was then that she realised she hadn’t invited him in, and the guilt churned again. Sub-consciously leaving him standing on her doorstep was not the best evidence that she believed she had done nothing wrong.

“No, no, come on in… When did you get back?”

“Couple of hours ago…”

She tried not to read too much into the fact that she was one of his first stops; tried not to feel guilty about that too, when there were other people he should be with now.

“… I’ve spoken to the kids,” he told her, as she closed the door behind him, so perhaps her thoughts were showing on her face, “and Mama, and the team.”

“And Noah… So I’m last on your list,” she teased.

“Well I knew you’d turn me away if I hadn’t already checked in with everyone else.”

“I’d never turn you away.” He knew that from the last time he turned up at her home unannounced.

He conceded that point with a tilt of his head. “But you’d feel guilty that I was here and not with them.”

“Did you just swing by to prove how well you know me?”

He grinned and she couldn’t help but smile back at him. God, she’d missed him.

“No,” he replied, “I wanted to… see how you’re doing.”

And the guilt churned again because while he could mean because he left so soon after she got shot, there was that sparkle of hope in his eyes that suggested that was not why he was there. Or, at least, it was not the only reason.

And her suspicions were confirmed when his eyes flitted down to her necklace, to the compass she had worn every day since he gave it to her.

“It suits you,” he remarked, a hint of adoration in his soft words.

“I’ve had a lot of compliments.”

His eyebrows rose, his eyes lifting to meet hers again. Perhaps he had not expected that she would wear it. “Did you tell them where you got it?”

“Only if they wouldn’t know who you are,” she told him with a smirk, rather than admit to all the knowing looks she had actually pointedly ignored.

He chuckled, as hoped, suspecting – correctly – that she was not serious. “… So you’ve worn it a lot?”

She took a breath to respond before realising she didn’t know what to say. It would be easy – so easy; surprisingly easy – to slip into flirting with him; to see where that look in his eyes could lead; to let the little flutter in her chest grow into something more. But they were not where they were when they shared Chinese food in her office. They were not where they were when she thought he was going to kiss her in that Ohio examination room or when he gave her the necklace and hoped she would find happiness.

Things had changed.

She was not sure whether the burst of laughter from the kitchen was a welcome interruption or not. She watched Elliot’s eyes flick in that direction, knew he would have heard a man’s laughter alongside Noah’s, saw his jaw tighten, his eyes cloud.

“I am interrupting,” he said, and he made a valiant effort to cover his disappointment, but she could see it. Or she imagined it to be there. Either way, she wanted to assure him that she wanted him to stay.

“No. No, we’d just started dinner. Join us.” She started to walk towards the kitchen before he could refuse, hoped he would follow her without argument. “There is plenty lasagne, and don’t worry – I didn’t make it!”

“Liv…”

Reluctantly, she stopped at the kitchen door and turned to face him. “Have you eaten?”

“… No.”

So she inclined her head towards the door, before pushing it open, taking a surreptitious deep breath to prepare herself for the next part.

“Didn’t invite anyone over, huh?” she said, ruffling Noah’s hair as she passed behind him.

He dodged her hand with a grin on his face. “He invited himself… Good surprise?”

Olivia glanced at Elliot and smiled. “Great surprise…” She noticed, however, that his eyes were not on her. “Elliot, you remember Trevor,” she said, injecting as much casualness into the utterance as she could without seeming like she was trying too hard to make the situation appear innocent.

“Yes,” Elliot said, quickly, as if snapping out of a daze. “Yeah.” He held out his hand for Trevor to shake. “Good to see you again.”

Trevor half-stood to shake hands, a little awkwardly, his napkin pressed against the lasagne stain on his shirt. “And you.”

“Your daughter?” Elliot asked with a nod of his head toward Joy.

“Oh,” Trevor glanced at Olivia, no doubt surprised Elliot did not already know who Joy was. “No. No. I’m just her… plate,” he finished with a self-conscious laugh.

Olivia chose to focus on Joy rather than the intrigued puzzlement on Trevor’s face, or the who-knew-what she would see on Elliot’s. The little girl was staring at Elliot with an adorable frown; if only they could know what she was thinking.

“Joy is staying with me and Noah…” Olivia explained, and Joy pointed excitedly at Noah and declared, “No!”

“That’s right. That’s Noah,” she praised Joy, welcoming the distraction so she didn’t have to face Elliot who would see straight through her and know she wasn’t telling him the full story.

“No!” Joy shouted again.

“She either understands that’s his name, or she vehemently disagrees. We’re going with the former…. Sit down, El, I’ll get you a plate.”

She made the transition smoothly and didn’t wait to see if Elliot wanted to protest. She let out her breath slowly once she had her back to them and had plastered a smile back on her face by the time she returned to the table.

The available seat had been between Noah and Trevor and, while Elliot didn’t look overly comfortable, he took the offered plate, and accepted a serving of food without trying to make excuses to leave.

Trevor declared he was going to brave another spoonful for Joy and even Elliot laughed when the girl seemed to wonder why they were all watching her; appraising each of them in turn with a delicate glare, before accepting the mouthful of food without incident.

Olivia had thought that the last month, with a second child, had been as surreal as life was likely to get.

But, as she watched Elliot watch Trevor, and as she repeatedly ignored the perplexed looks Noah was shooting at her, and as Joy repeatedly studied Elliot intently while Trevor spooned food into her mouth; and as she tried very hard not to think about the conversation with Elliot that would happen eventually, that dinner outdid the preceding month by far.

…

Olivia emerged into the living room after saying good night to Noah, to find Elliot perusing the small collection of books she kept beside the TV.

Trevor had left hours earlier, a knowing look on his face as he had glanced towards Elliot before wishing Olivia a good night. She had ignored it, as was becoming habit.

Elliot looked to her when she entered but he stayed where he was, rotating on the spot as she moved further into the room.

“Thank you,” she said, “for entertaining Noah.”

“No problem. But remind me never to play Uno with him again! He’s so intense. Did you teach him how to play?”

“Of course,” she grinned. “But seriously, it was nice for him not to be left to his own devices. Joy doesn’t always settle straightaway and the idea of hanging out in my room while I try to persuade her doesn’t seem to appeal to him…”

Elliot smiled, inclined his head as if to say he could see where Noah was coming from.

“I’ve been thinking about hiring a second nanny. Joy’s a bit too much for Martha anyway; maybe someone younger who could help with both, I don’t know. Still in the planning stages.”

Elliot nodded, thoughtfully, before remarking, “So it’s long term then?”

A decade apart had not diminished her ability to read his tone: He had posed that as a question, but he already knew the answer. “Noah?” she asked him.

“Ayanna...”

Ah. So all that about Trevor’s daughter had been an act.

“… When I mentioned I was heading over. She didn’t want me to be blindsided.”

Olivia’s spine straightened, her tone became instantly defensive, too long spent going over and over in her mind that he deserved for her to discuss the decision with him. “I didn’t know you were back.”

“I know.” He frowned, gently, but she persisted.

“But you think I should have told you.”

“That’s not —”

“Well maybe if you’d been here I could have —” She wouldn’t have. She knew that in all likelihood she would have convinced herself that it was a decision she should make on her own. Whether Elliot had been there or not, she would not have consulted him. She had been over and over that in her own head too.

“Olivia!” He didn’t raise his voice, no doubt conscious of the children, but it was stern as he stared at her in confusion. “I’m not attacking you.”

She reached for the back of the chair beside her, using it to steady her suddenly weary body. An evening of forcing herself to act like everything was fine; of trying to convince everyone around her that she had a handle on all this, that she knew exactly what she was doing; of pushing aside the guilt and the disappointment over Elliot was catching up with her. Together with the four hours, intermittent sleep she had had the night before, perhaps she should not be surprised that she had turned on someone. And with a history like theirs, she should not be surprised that it was him.

She dropped her head to her other hand, massaging her temples. “Sorry…” she told him. “Sorry.” She looked up at him, sheepishly. “It’s been a long day.”

He watched her, carefully. “That doesn’t just come from being tired.”

She tried to shrug it off. “I’ve had a lot of time to… imagine what you might say about Joy and —”

“And you assumed you’d need to defend yourself?”

He was hurt, she could see that, offended that she would assume he would not support her. “… You were never particularly supportive in the past.”

The look of guilt that swept over him was all too familiar. “There are a lot of things from our past that I regret.”

“I know… I’m sorry. I don’t —” She pushed herself away from the chair, unwilling to be weak in this moment. “This isn’t how I imagined it would go when you got back.”

He just stared at her again and she couldn’t figure out what he might say, what direction he might try to take them in.

Eventually, his lips curved into a small smile, almost a smirk and she felt a wash of relief that her offence was forgiven; that he wasn’t going to force them to dwell on the past or push for her to reveal more about what she had thought he would say.

“You imagined it?”

“You didn’t?” she countered.

All trace of teasing slipped from his expression as he told her, earnestly, “It’s what got me through.”

The relief was quickly replaced with a wave of adrenaline – fear; hope; warmth; dread, all in one. She could only stare at him across the room as she tried to push it all aside; as she strived to ignore the affection she could see in his eyes, the shiver it caused in her body, the guilt – the regret - that she was the one putting them in this position, cutting them off before they began. Again.

She couldn’t let them get into that. She had already made comments she hadn’t intended to, she couldn’t trust that she wouldn’t say the wrong thing.

Or the right thing, at absolutely the wrong time.

“Bet this isn’t quite what you’d imagined,” she remarked, aiming for a lighthearted tone she knew he would recognise as a deflection.

“Not quite,” he played along, offering her an understanding smile. “… I have to say, I had not imagined Langan at all.”

She laughed, once. “Yeah.”

He continued to stare at her, his brow creasing a little, the intensity of his gaze gradually making her feel as if he was reading her from the inside out.

“What?”she demanded when he eventually scoffed a laugh as he looked away.

He shook his head, the smile on his face almost a grimace.

“No, go on,” she pushed, unsure why she seemed determined to argue with him tonight. (A small voice suggested it was because she found that easier than admitting how she really felt. She ignored it.)

He looked at her again. Just looking for a moment, no doubt judging her mood before replying. “It’s — … Langan; Cassidy; Tucker…”

She found herself ready to hit him if he was not very careful with his next words.

He shrugged, then his voice was sad when he stated, “… I missed a lot...”

She couldn’t tell him that he hadn’t, after all she had been through while he was gone. The guilt would be ever present, she supposed. Their past always haunting them, no matter what happened in the future. But maybe she could put his mind at ease in the present. She could no longer offer him a step forward, but perhaps she could assure him it wasn’t because he had been usurped.

“There’s nothing… with me and Trevor.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

“Does he know that?”

She quirked an eyebrow at the audacity of his question.

“Sorry,” he murmured, and she believed he was.

She thought back to the look Trevor had given her before he had left. “I think he knows that.”

Elliot nodded and maybe she was reading more into his expression than was there, but she sensed that he was almost envious of Trevor for knowing where he stood. There was that hope in his eyes, almost a plea for her to tell him.

“Do you want a drink?” she offered, instead, attempting to buy herself time.

“No,” he replied, simply, in a tone that made her think twice about excusing herself anyway. His eyes still fixed on her. Waiting. “Thank you,” he added, politely.

She held his gaze for as long as she could before she felt certain the hope was going to kill her. With a sigh, she dropped her head, gathering her thoughts and her wits and the rational, sensible, side she knew was in there somewhere and was more accessible when she couldn’t see him. “Elliot…” she began, but she knew she had to face him to deliver this, no matter how much she would prefer to direct it at the floor so she wouldn’t have to watch him react.

She lifted her head and fixed her eyes on his. “This hasn’t been easy,” she told him. “Joy took a while to settle; she still has nights where she wakes constantly and she’s teething which has added to the fun… She — Joy has to be my priority; and Noah, adjusting to this.” She watched him closely, hoping he would understand what she was saying. She couldn’t talk, now, about them. He nodded once and the relief she felt was less potent than she would have expected; perhaps she had hoped he would fight her on it. “A toddler and a teenager,” she quipped to try to lighten the atmosphere, “I never saw this coming.”

“Well, I’m around if you want help,” he told her, his voice low with disappointment, but genuine nonetheless. “After all, I’ve been there, got the t-shirt.”

“You have…” she smiled, a mixture of fondness and sadness, at the memories stirred. “… I’m a little older than you were.”

“But wiser,” he smiled, gently. “Plus, you only have the one teenager.”

“Oh, I think one will be enough. He’s known Joy since she was born but I’m not sure how he’ll handle her full time once the novelty wears off.”

“How has he taken it?”

“He’s supportive. I did speak to him before I —”

“Of course…”

She needed to drop the defensiveness; he hadn’t suggested she would not have spoken to Noah.

“He doesn’t remember, obviously, that he was in a similar position, but he’s trying to understand the situation, and why she needs us.”

“He’s a great, kid, Liv.”

She nodded, admitting quietly, “Sometimes I still can’t quite believe he’s mine.”

They shared a smile for a moment and Olivia tried to settle her rapidly beating heart and her whirring mind. This was what she had wanted – what she had always wanted – to be able to talk to Elliot about her kids; to have Elliot in their lives. She had always imagined she would one day, somehow, be a mother. She had never, not once, imagined that Elliot would not be around when it happened. Until he had dropped out of her life without a word.

But he was back, and he had been willing to be more than she had ever been allowed to want and she had put up another roadblock. Their timing really was exceptionally bad.

His thoughts apparently following a similar path to hers, Elliot’s lips straightened, and his eyes dimmed and she couldn’t decide if she wanted him to push her or not. She found herself holding her breath as she waited to hear what he would say.

“I should have been here,” he stated, his words coarse with contrition.

“You were working –”

He shook his head, refusing to accept her dismissal of his regret. “With Noah,” he clarified and it surprised her just how in sync their thoughts were. “You light up in mom mode and I missed it all with him… You wanted it for so long, Liv —”

His words sounded so pained, now, she couldn’t let him carry on. “Elliot —”

“I’m here now,” he told her, “And I mean it, Olivia. Let me help.”

“I appreciate that.”

“But you’ll do what you always do and stubbornly refuse to ask?”

“I’ve got better at asking for help,” she protested, though she knew full well that he was right.

“Once you reach the point of exhaustion and know you’re not safe to drive.”

They were in serious danger of a full blown argument, if she took that bait; an argument she knew would likely end with her trying to tear his clothes off. Impractical, to say the least, while her bedroom was occupied by a child, not to mention all her very good, very logical reasons why she could not do this now.

“Touché,” she responded, carefully, instead.

“Let me help,” he implored, quietly.

And she shouldn’t, she knew. Letting him be around more and involved more was not going to make it any easier to accept that they couldn’t be more. But she doubted she would be any less distracted by him even if she kept him at arm's length. And he did have experience that she could benefit from. And she wanted them to be friends, properly, even if that was all they would ever be. (She ignored the part of her that pointed out she would never manage to be just friends with Elliot.)

“Okay…” she promised, and she intended to keep it. But the intensity of the moment was too much, so she resorted to lightheartedness again before he could say anything. “But you saw what happened to Trevor’s shirt. I can’t guarantee your safety.”

“I will dress appropriately,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers. His expression never wavering.

Their gazes held a while longer and she forced herself to recite all the reasons why she should not just close the distance between them and kiss him. She shouldn’t make so many changes, simultaneously. She shouldn’t start something with Elliot – a relationship that was always going to be under more pressure than any of those in her past that had not lasted – with the added factor of a commitment to raise a child with her; a child who would grow attached; a child who had already lost everyone; a child who was going to need Olivia’s love and attention as she grew up and started to understand what had happened. She couldn’t force Noah to accept another addition to their team when he hadn’t yet adapted to the first one; when she was already asking him to share his mom and his home with a stranger who cried at all hours of the night. He would also need her love and attention; need to know she didn’t love him any less; need to believe she still had time for him.

She didn’t have time for Elliot. He had left a void when he went undercover and, whether intentionally or not, she had filled it.

“You’re tired,” Elliot said, his voice cutting into her thoughts, and she wondered what he had seen on her face to prompt it. “I’ll get going.”

“No, don’t —”

“I appreciate you letting me crash dinner.”

“Stay, Elliot. If I sleep now I’ll be awake far too early… Tell me what you can about your case,” she gestured towards the couch, knowing she was asking a lot after she had basically shut down any possibility of a future and then tried to pick fights with him. “Assure me that you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, Liv…”

“You’d say that if you weren’t. Please, El. Sit.” She sat down as she asked, looked up at him with eyes that were tired, yes, but she hoped were also convincingly awake enough.

He eventually moved and sat down at the opposite end of the couch. He angled his body to face her, so she did the same.

“If you fall asleep, I’m leaving.”

“You’ll be well within your rights… Tell me about the case.”

So he did. He told her what he could, and she asked questions that she thought he could answer, and she read between the lines for details that might indicate he wasn’t as okay as he insisted he was. And the conversation moved on to how his calls to his kids had been, and how Bernie was doing. She felt they were back on track – not going anywhere, but at least back on stable ground. And, when her eyes did start to feel a little heavier each time she blinked, Olivia forced them back open, because she didn’t want the evening to end.

She didn’t want to let him go.

…

“Liv…”

She snapped her eyes open, ready to protest that she was awake and she was listening, only to realise that she clearly hadn’t been. Elliot had moved, was crouched beside her so he could shake her shoulder to wake her.

“Sorry,” she breathed, sitting up and he stood, stepped back.

“Go to bed,” he instructed with a soft smile.

She pushed herself to her feet but swayed a little and Elliot’s hands fell instantly to her waist to steady her. She grasped his forearms instinctively, despite knowing that she was not going to fall, her fingers landing softly against his warm skin, his hairs a little rough under her touch.

“You good?” he asked and she realised she was staring at where her left hand was tracing the lines of his tattoo.

She stilled her fingers and forced her eyes up to meet his. “I’m good.”

He didn’t let go. Neither did she.

“I’m sorry I fell asleep.”

“I told you you were tired,” he smirked. “I’m sure Seamus won’t be offended when I tell him that the story of his match-winning goal put you to sleep.”

“Don’t you dare tell him that.”

“Prepare to defend yourself next time you see him.”

She glared at him, but he just smiled back, softly, not at all deterred.

He didn’t so much as twitch them but she became very aware of his hands at her waist, of their warmth through her blouse; of how solid he felt beneath her touch, how soft, yet strong. Of how tired she really was because she was incredibly close to swooning.

His smile widened a smidge; his eyes sparkling at her and she suspected he knew what she was thinking; he could probably hear her heart pounding.

He didn’t take his eyes off her; didn’t move to leave like he had threatened to do if she fell asleep on him. But nor did he pull her closer, or move towards her. He stood stock still and just watched her.

Watched her wonder if he wanted to kiss her; watched her wonder if she would resist if he tried to (She wouldn’t. She was too tired to resist. She was too tired of resisting).

Watched her remind herself that nothing had changed since she last recited her litany of reasons not to do this. Watched her tilt her head and offer him an apologetic smile and take a slow, deep, breath before dropping her hands and backing away.

And he smiled, understandingly. “Call me if you need help.”

“I will.”

“I mean it, Olivia.”

She nodded and followed him to the door, looking up at him once he had it open. “I’m glad you’re back,” she told him, because she needed him to know that. If he couldn’t know anything else about what she had started to hope she would be able to tell him when he returned, she at least wanted him to know that she had missed him.

“Me too,” he grinned. Then he ordered, “Sleep!” and he walked away.

Olivia rested against the open door until he was out of sight; and she didn’t move from there - her eyes fixed on where she had last seen him – until Joy started to cry in the bedroom and drew her back into the apartment.

Chapter Text

It was perfectly acceptable to be a teeny bit (all right, a teeny lot) jealous of the fact that Joy would calm down immediately upon seeing Elliot. At least that is what Olivia had been telling herself whenever she was presented with evidence of that fact and her insides churned just a little.

She could hardly blame Joy. She herself had felt instantly calmed by Elliot’s presence on numerous occasions in their thirteen year partnership. And since, if she was honest with herself. Though, since his return, it was a battle to allow herself to feel calmed; to admit to herself that she still felt safe with him; to permit herself to find that security with a man who had once disappeared without a word.

But he hadn’t abandoned Joy (there was always a ‘yet’ in those thoughts on nights when Olivia couldn’t sleep; when her mind would not be quieted on whether she and Elliot could have had something. Whether they still could have something. Whether he would stay. Whether she could trust the devotion she could see in his eyes now that it was not something to fear would destroy a marriage and a partnership. Just something that might break her heart. Again.) and as soon as Olivia swung open the door and Joy’s eyes landed on their visitor, the crying ceased; the howling that had been going on for at least twenty minutes stopped. And her little face lit up.

And Olivia’s heart skipped a beat.

“Oh dear,” Elliot remarked, his tone soft for Joy, but his eyes glancing at Olivia in question. “Have we been crying?” He brushed his thumb across a tear on Joy’s cheek and she grabbed hold of his hand with a gleeful squeal.

“We have,” Olivia told him, handing Joy over to him when he offered. “Because Joy was not allowed to follow Noah into the bathroom when he went to take a shower,” she explained as she closed the door. “And then Joy was not allowed to pull the tablecloth off the table.”

Elliot tried to fix a reprimanding frown on the little one, but she gazed up at him with wide, molten eyes and Olivia knew full well that he would not manage to maintain the disapproval for long. Olivia never could.

Sure enough, seconds later, he was grinning at Joy and she was babbling away as she squeezed his cheeks.

He managed to look at Olivia, his features squished and distorted by Joy’s hands, but the concern in his eyes unmistakable. “Have you been crying?” he asked her, tenderly.

“Not about that,” she assured him, moving toward the TV unit to explain. “I tried to distract her by opening some cards that arrived in the mail; you know how she loves a good envelope…” She picked up the card that had caused her upset, deliberately not rereading the message as she handed it to him. “From Cassie,” she said, and his contorted expression turned instantly understanding.

He seemed reluctant to take his eyes off her but he did eventually drop his gaze to read the card. It didn’t matter that Olivia hadn’t reread it just then, she knew it by heart; read it again, in her head, along with him.

My beautiful angel, I can’t believe you are one already. I know Olivia will make your day as special as you are. You are safe there and you are loved. I miss you and I love you so much. I will always, always love you. Happy birthday, sweetheart.

As Elliot’s eyes flicked back up to meet Olivia’s, Joy relinquished one of his cheeks to snatch the card out of his hand with a screech of laughter. She narrowly missed taking Elliot’s eye out with the corner as she swung it past his face, he ducked back out of the way as Olivia quickly stepped in to rescue the card.

“Be gentle with that, honey,” she murmured, prising it from Joy’s grip, “You might want to read that when you’re older.” She pressed her lips softly to Joy’s forehead but was pushed away in favour of Joy grabbing at Elliot’s cheeks again.

Elliot was watching her, she knew, but she was determined today would be a happy one, so she did not want to go down the road of her pain and anger and guilt about Cassie. Let him pry that out of her after a dinner, once the kids were asleep, like he had done the first – and last – time she had opened up to him about all of that. She felt his eyes follow her when she returned the card to the unit and was exceptionally grateful when he changed the subject before she had to.

“This place looks great,” he mumbled through Joy’s ministrations and when she turned around she found him looking around the room at the decorations Noah had helped her to put up.

“The kitchen does not,” she pointed out.

“There’s time,” he reassured her, “That’s why I’m here. What can I do?”

“It would be a massive help if you would just entertain Joy. She’s done well, really. Noah and I have been decorating, and prepping food, all morning. She took a nap and then watched us work, and she really only started to fuss once Noah left the room. I just need to make some sandwiches and set the food out then I’ll get her into her party gear and we’re good to go.”

“So you just want me to play with Joy? Are you sure? I can make sandwiches or —”

“I’m sure. Just some quiet time for her where she has your entire focus, before everyone arrives and she gets overwhelmed.”

“I can do that.”

“Thank you.”

“And don’t take this the wrong way, but if you want to take a shower while I’ve got her —”

“I’m not sure what the right way is to take that.”

He smiled and stepped closer to her and for one horrifying moment she thought he intended to sniff her to make his point. But instead, he raised his hand and brushed his thumb over her cheek, in much the same way he had wiped Joy’s tears earlier. Except he lingered a little longer than necessary while he stared into her eyes with a smug sparkle he had grown fond of using on her in the last month.

She had been correct that taking him up on his offer to help with Joy would not help her to accept that they were never going to be anything more than friends. Not only was he great with Joy, but Noah seemed to enjoy the evenings they all spent together, and she would catch Elliot watching her – gazing at her, if truth be told – wistful and hopeful, and, sometimes, a tad regretful. And, after he left, she would spend the night restless and frustrated and torn again between the sensible logic of not making any more changes – especially one as momentous as Elliot would be - and the whimsical – and no doubt absolutely unrealistic – idea that every evening could be like that: the four of them, occasionally more of them. A family. Her family.

Their family.

He held up his thumb for her to see the chocolate frosting smeared across it. “It’s on your arm as well, and the back of your shoulder.”

“Oh God, I don’t even know how that would have got there,” she said, swiping, automatically, at her cheek and arm and potentially just making it worse.

“Go,” Elliot encouraged, pushing her toward the kitchen door. “I’ve got this. You’ve got time… Sort out the food, then take a shower… Shout if you need a hand.”

She didn’t dare look back at him; his voice told her everything she would see on his dangerous face. He wasn’t offering a hand with the food.

She had just made contact with the kitchen door when he said, “Wow,” in a tone devoid of all innuendo and suggestion, just pure surprise. So she did turn back and found him staring in awe at Joy’s highchair. She had been afraid of this.

“Too much?” she asked, watching him closely to read his true opinion.

“No. No. Just never seen anything like it.”

“I’ll take it off,” she said, crossing to the chair to remove the pink tutu from around the tray. “I knew it was too —”

“Hey…” Elliot’s hand landed softly on hers. “Leave it on. It looks great.”

“It’s too much.”

“You obviously liked it.”

“It was more that they had it at the store and —…”

“And you’ve never had a daughter before.”

“It’s silly,” she said, her voice unintentionally coming out as a whisper. She was still finding it hard to believe that she had a daughter now.

“Not at all,” he assured her, softly. “Leave it on. If nothing else it’ll provide excellent photos to break out when you meet her future partners.”

She managed a small laugh at that but still eyed the tutu with trepidation for a few seconds longer before giving in and leaving it be. It would be a conversation piece at least.

“Okay, I should get sorted. I shouldn’t be long.”

“Take as long as you need. Joy and I are going to play tea party…” Joy pulled her face at that suggestion. “Or not.”

Olivia turned to leave before her thoughts - and heart - could wander again, seeing how content Joy was in Elliot’s arms. And how content he was to have her there. There was not time to deal with the mixture of emotions that evoked.

“Er, Liv…” he said from behind her just as she reached the door again. “There’s also frosting behind your ear… What the hell were you doing?”

… …

Olivia felt like she had been gone for days when she finally re-emerged into her living room. But she was free of chocolate frosting and everything was ready. The food was laid out; the cake was pride of place in the centre of the buffet table; there were drinks of every variety. Maybe too many drinks? It wasn’t going to be a big party. Just family. Friends. Elliot’s family; Amanda and Carisi and the girls, if she didn’t go into labour beforehand; Fin if he thought he could leave Velasco and Churlish; Phoebe either way; Cragen. She smiled, remembering Noah’s first birthday in her care. She breathed out; it was strange to be back here again, with a baby.

And with Elliot here like she had always pictured he would be when she had children.

Here and smiling at Joy where they were sitting on the floor in front of the couch.

She still didn’t have time for the bizarre mixture of emotions that swept through her again so she shook her head, double checking the decorations in the living room as she moved. Banner, balloons —

“Dad!”

She froze for a second, before turning her head, slowly, back to the two other people in the room, her eyes wide.

Elliot was looking right at her, petrified.

“Did she just —”

“Dad!” Joy squealed, waving impatiently at Elliot.

Yes, she did.

“Eli video called; we had a chat with him. He called me dad and she’s been repeating it. I am trying to persuade her to go with El…”

“Dad!” Joy was getting cross now because he wasn’t taking her on. Elliot tore his eyes away from Olivia – reluctantly, she could tell – and smiled at the little girl.

“Elliot,” he told her.

“Dad!” she giggled.

Olivia couldn’t pinpoint how she was feeling. There was that mixture of emotions again, only stronger, and led by the fact that this child who would grow up as her daughter was calling Elliot Stabler ‘Dad’. Now really wasn’t the time for this.

“Elliot,” he was repeating.

“Dad,” Joy was insisting.

“Maybe she’ll call everyone Dad,” Olivia suggested, more hopefully than she felt.

“Yeah. She doesn’t know what the word means.” Elliot stood and scooped Joy up from the floor, walking over to Olivia.

“Dad,” he said, pointing at Liv.

It was difficult to be disappointed by the adorable frown that Joy gave him in response.

He tried again.

Joy looked at Olivia as if the two of them were in on the secret that Elliot was a little crazy, then turned back to him and said, “Dad.”

“She still might call other male people Dad,” Elliot suggested.

“We’ll see.”

She reached to take Joy from Elliot to get her changed into her party dress and she could see the apprehension in his eyes. He thought she was angry.

She wasn’t sure what she was.

“I’ll just get her changed,” she told him, with what she hoped was a breezy smile.

“Liv…” he said as she walked away.

“It’s fine, Elliot…”

“Dad!” Joy clapped her hands.

Great, now it was an automatic response to the word Elliot.

“It’s fine,” she repeated, quietly, as she walked through the kitchen, “All of our closest friends will be here soon; my daughter is calling you Dad and we haven’t even so much as kissed yet.”

“What?”

She nearly jumped out of her skin. She hadn’t realised he had followed her.

“Geez, Elliot!”

“Dad!”

“I didn’t know you were there.”

She continued to the door of Noah’s room, knocking and calling to ask if he was nearly ready (he claimed to be), before moving into her bedroom.

Elliot made it clear that he had followed her.

“Would it help if we had?”

“Elliot…”

“Dad...” Joy echoed the whisper of Olivia’s voice.

Elliot moved closer to them but Olivia busied herself with popping Joy onto the bed and pulling her t-shirt over her head. Joy – quite the fan of being in a state of undress at the moment – squealed with delight and dropped herself backwards to lie down.

“Liv —”

“Elliot —”

“Dad!”

“Now really isn’t the time.”

“You brought it up.”

“I didn’t think you were listening.”

“Is that how you feel?”

“El —” She stopped herself this time – she was becoming quite conscious of just how frequently she said his name – and they both turned to look at Joy.

Mouth open as if she had been about to speak, the little one looked between the two of them, frowned and then muttered, “Dad.”

“We’ll just have to change your name,” Olivia remarked, pulling off Joy’s leggings while her little legs were in easy reach.

Olivia moved to grab Joy’s dress from where it was hanging on the side of her crib but Elliot followed, stopping her with a gentle hand on her forearm before she had even taken two steps.

She looked up at him knowing she couldn’t avoid him any longer. And maybe it was better to address this now than spend the whole party listening to Joy calling him Dad; weathering the knowing looks from the guests; and wondering what it was she wouldn’t let him say.

“Would it be less awkward if we had kissed?” And damn him for the tiny smirk on his lips as he asked.

She rolled her eyes. “No. I doubt it would be any less awkward.”

“Do you wish we had kissed?”

“I wish everything was less complicated.” She glanced at Joy to make sure she wasn’t trying to climb off the bed.

“This isn’t complicated.”

“Isn’t it?” she asked, meeting his eyes again. It sure as hell felt complicated. She was still adjusting to a second child; did she have the mental capacity to deal with her relationship with Elliot at the same time?

He shrugged. “If you want us to kiss, we kiss.”

“I don’t know what I want,” she told him, honestly. “There’s still so much about us that I needed to figure out but since Joy, I don’t have time.”

“Okay. I get that…”

He took a step closer and a wave of warmth rushed through her.

“… But when she calls me Dad… Is there a part of you that wishes it were real?”

“Elliot…”

“Dad!” Joy shouted it with glee, like she had been waiting for another opportunity.

“I meant it, Liv, when I said I’m here for you. For you; for Noah; for Joy; for any other kids you want to add to our family in the future.”

Our family. Her stomach was somersaulting now, she actually felt a wave of nausea. It must have shown because Elliot settled both hands on her elbows as if to steady her.

“Whatever you want,” he whispered.

“I can’t think about this now,” she whispered back. As if she had any chance of not thinking about this now.

“Okay.”

He let go of her arms but he didn’t step away; didn’t look away. Was letting her see the sincerity in his eyes.

She didn’t move away either. She thought she should. They were far more complicated than this moment would have her believe. But he had told her, a month ago, that he would be here for her and he had been; he had told her months before that he cared for her and he had proven it. And wasn’t this what she wanted? Wasn’t this everything she had not been allowed to want for so long? And now there was nothing in her way except her own fear. Fear that he had been trying his utmost to alleviate.

Every one of their closest friends was about to assume there was more going on here the minute anyone said Elliot’s name. Would it be better to at least be hanged for the sheep?

Elliot’s eyebrows quirked as if he could read her mind and when his eyes drifted to her lips, she caved.

She was millimetres from his lips when Noah shouted from the kitchen. “There’s someone at the door!”

Smiling, softly, as if the interruption was to be expected, Elliot said, “I’ll go.” And he did.

Olivia turned to Joy and sighed. The little girl had watched Elliot leave and now turned back with a worried frown.

“Dad?” she asked.

Olivia tickled Joy’s nearest toes. “Yeah, maybe one day.”

… …

It was Cragen who had arrived first and interrupted their moment. It seemed fitting, after everything they put him through that he should – unknowingly - get revenge on them now, so Olivia found that she couldn’t hold it against him. Despite the fluttering in her chest that wouldn’t settle every time her thoughts wandered back to how close they had been. Just a split second later and… Well, maybe it would have been worse to be interrupted a split second later.

He and Elliot were in the kitchen when Olivia emerged with a party-ready Joy, Noah trying to find a spot on the buffet table for a box of homemade brownies Don had brought with him. He baked now, apparently.

Olivia hugged him, introduced him for the first time in person to the little girl, who did not choose to call him dad. She couldn’t decide if she was disappointed or not.

As Don took Joy from her, insisting he could cope if she decided to squish his face as Olivia had warned him she would, she tried her best not to seek out Elliot’s eyes. At the same time she tried her best not to deliberately avoid Elliot’s eyes. When she eventually decided on an action that at least had her look in Elliot’s direction, she found her efforts had been for nought anyway: He was focused on the screen of his phone, clearly not as affected by their earlier encounter as she was.

Then his eyes darted up from the phone and instantly met hers, the same intensity within them that he had fixed on her in her bedroom. And he smiled.

Head still ducked, phone still in his hands, he smiled, and anticipation rolled through Olivia’s body, leaving a warm shiver in its wake.

The next knock at the door was almost welcome.

Olivia excused herself – hoping not suspiciously quickly – and used the brief seconds she was alone in the living room to take some deep, sensible breaths; breaths she hoped would bring her back to herself.

Of course, she found the Stablers on the other side of the door. Four children; two grandchildren, Bernie and Carl, and she remembered, suddenly, Joy’s little party trick. How would it look to them?

As they bustled in, greetings uttered simultaneously, shoes kicked off little feet – their owners called back from their sprint across the room to place the shoes more tidily beside the door – Olivia tried to figure out how to broach the subject and warn them about it before they witnessed it. But where was she supposed to start? “My daughter’s calling your father ‘Dad’… but it doesn’t mean anything.”

Before she could come up with anything better, the kitchen door swung open and Elliot came through, closely followed by Cragen and Noah, their old boss still carrying the birthday girl.

And Elliot’s younger three children, as one, chorused, “Elliot!”

Joy looked as startled as Olivia was; staring wide eyed at the new arrivals as if she had no idea what had just happened. Olivia knew the feeling.

“Funny,” Elliot murmured then looked at Joy who still had not reacted. “Huh, maybe you shocked it out of her.”

He’d told them. She had been fretting over how to explain it and whatever he had told them – probably what he had been doing on his phone – had them teasing him about it. Perhaps she really was overthinking all her worries about starting something with Elliot.

Cragen looked totally bemused, Joy was still staring and Olivia was just holding her breath, waiting for the crying to begin when, instead, a wide grin spread across Joy’s lips and she laughed, wildly, gleefully applauding, as she turned towards Elliot and squealed, “Dad!”.

The laughter from Elliot’s kids was almost as maniacal as Joy’s and they surrounded Cragen to fuss over the little one.

While Olivia was perversely pleased to find that Elliot wasn’t trying to catch her eye to gloat – maybe he was just as affected by their near-kiss and knew, as she did, that they should not make eye contact in front of his kids - she had no such luck with Cragen. Despite the melee around him, her Captain managed to find a gap and find her eyes. He smiled – that gentle, understanding smile that had always made her feel heard and safe without her having even told him how she was feeling. Clearly he had not lost his ability to read her like a book. He nodded, just once, as if to reassure her. As if to encourage her.

She smiled back, grateful for his unwavering support, then snapped herself back to reality. However encouraged she might feel knowing that they had Cragen’s blessing; knowing Elliot’s children were not aghast at Joy’s adoption of their dad and knowing that, for all she remained terrified of risking a relationship, she was excited to know what would happen when she and Elliot eventually had chance to be alone again, she still had a birthday party to host and a special little girl to celebrate. She had to focus.

Easier said than done. Especially when it came to Elliot.

… …

When she was certain everyone had a drink, and the kids were distracted with food, and Amanda, in particular, was confined to the couch with Joy on her lap, Olivia popped her head round the door from the kitchen to the living room.

“El —” She stopped herself, noticing Joy’s head turn towards her as she spoke. “Stabler!” she called instead, “Can I borrow you for a second?”

Elliot placed his glass down on the coffee table and excused himself from his conversation with Carisi and Jesse, and Olivia dropped back into the kitchen to wait.

She paced a little behind the door. She should not do what she was about to do, but she couldn’t relax. She needed to do something.

The door swung open and she turned towards it, but it was Seamus, running in to grab another sandwich. He picked up two and grinned at Olivia when he spotted her watching him. He passed Elliot in the doorway as he left.

She watched Elliot glance around the room before he found her behind him.

“We shouldn’t do this,” she told him without preamble. His eyebrows rose but he didn’t ask what she was talking about.

“They say not to make multiple big life changes at the same time,” she continued, arguments she had already made to herself, repeatedly. “… They probably say not to make decisions like this in the middle of a one year old’s birthday party…”

“But?”

“But… I need you to kiss me. I —”

His hands were on her cheeks and his lips were on hers before she had even begun her explanation. She moved in his hold, wrapping her arms around him, pulling him closer, pushing herself nearer, sliding her lips against his, tasting him, touching him, wondering how she ever managed to deny that this was what she wanted. His hand slipped to her neck, his long fingers holding her, adjusting the angle of her head so he could devour her; his tongue parting her lips; his firm body guiding her backwards until she was pressed against the cupboard door; until she felt like she was melting, everywhere.

He had apparently kept his wits about him better than she had because he gradually wound the kiss down; gentle touches; tiny nibbles. A soft, tender kiss before he stepped back and looked down at her, pretty triumphantly.

“You don’t need to be asked twice,” she quipped while trying to catch her breath, calm her heart.

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask once,” he said, his voice quiet and low, his eyes fixed on her with what looked a lot like awe.

“I know,” she breathed, her hands reaching for his waist – while she hoped that everyone next door was still occupied. He moved into her as she stepped forward. “I’m — Noah and Joy have to be my priority —” she reminded him, sliding her hands round to the small of his back, not keen to stop touching him now that she could.

“I won’t stand in the way of that,” he promised, his fingers settling on her neck, his thumbs stroking along her jaw.

“I don’t have any free time to go on dates.”

“I like hanging out here.”

“… I no longer have my own room.”

His lips quirked. “Olivia… I knew all of this when I kissed you.”

“I want this, Elliot… I do, but —”

“We’ll make it work, Liv… We’ll figure it out…”

“I haven’t done this in a very long time,” she admitted on a whisper.

His eyebrow quirked, eyes sparkling at her as that smirk formed on his lips.

“A relationship,” she emphasised with a small eye roll.

He kissed her, gently, reassuringly. “It won’t be much different to now, if you think about it. We’ll have dinner; we’ll hang out with the kids. But then we’ll make out a little once they’re in bed.”

It sounded so simple when he put it like that. Surely she could manage that. She smiled, teasingly, up at him. “Yeah? Just a little?”

He shrugged, leaning in to kiss her again, after whispering, “We’ll play it by ear.”

When this kiss ended, Elliot stepped further back than before, glancing at the door.

“Yeah,” Olivia agreed, reluctantly, “We should…” She tilted her head in an indication of ‘get back’ or ‘stop making out where we could get caught any second.’

Elliot grinned at her, keeping his distance, and even as butterflies somersaulted inside her, she smiled back. She was terrified and, no doubt, later, even more reasons to be so would find their way into her head. But she wanted this. God, she wanted more of him. And she was fifty-five years old: She could do this.

“You’re going to have to stop looking at me like that.” He smirked when his words startled her out of her thoughts.

“Like what?” she protested.

“Like you just found out that I’m an amazing kisser and you want to pounce on me.”

“I am not —”

“Everyone’s gonna know,” he grinned.

“You’ve been looking at me like that even before you knew!”

“That’s why it’ll be you that gives this away.”

She narrowed her eyes at him but suspected it did little to dim the expression he was talking about.

He chuckled. “Remember that time I put a security detail on you after you insisted you didn’t want one?”

That had the intended effect, dousing the desire with enough disbelief and remembered infuriation that it was less obvious.

“There you go,” he said, proudly.

… …

“Anything you want to tell me?”

Olivia glanced round, ostensibly to react to Amanda’s entrance to the kitchen, but actually to make sure no one else was nearby.

She had known from the shrewd look on Amanda’s face whenever their paths crossed that she would have some comments about Joy’s moniker for Elliot as soon as there was the opportunity for her to share them. She had known she wouldn’t raise it in front of the others, so had done a pretty good job of avoiding being alone with her. Until now. She knew she should have asked someone to carry something into the kitchen with her, just for a buffer.

“Nope,” she replied, continuing to put plates into the dishwasher.

“Should I rephrase the question?”

“Nope.”

“Joy’s calling him Dad?”

“Elliot spoke to Eli in front of Joy…” She straightened up and pushed the dishwasher closed, turning to face Amanda lest she interpret her lack of eye contact as evidence. “She started to call him Dad and his attempts to correct her… appear to have set up a Pavlovian response.”

One side of Amanda’s mouth curled into a smirk. “What kind of response did it provoke in you?”

“The look on his face was priceless.”

“Mmhmm. And the lipstick on his face after you called him in here earlier?”

She was pleased to find that her cheeks did not flame at the insinuation (and accurate deduction), and she managed to keep a straight, non-revealing face as she quipped, “Nice try.” She wasn’t wearing lipstick. Amanda didn’t know anything; she was fishing.

Amanda grinned but accepted the deflection. “Did you see the look on Langan’s face?”

Olivia had less control over her reaction to that remark, unexpected as it was. “Don’t.”

Amanda’s eyes widened, not entirely gleefully, but not entirely sympathetically either. “What happened?”

Olivia turned away, needing to occupy herself with anything while she admitted, “He asked me out.”

“When?”

She grabbed a cloth and needlessly wiped down the counter by the sink. “It was a few months ago. Before Cassie and Joy…”

Right after Elliot had left, in fact. When they had bumped into each other in a wine bar, Olivia just finishing up a glass of wine, the last of drinks with a district attorney from the Bronx who was working on one of the cases her team had helped to solve. Andrea had been called home by her sitter; Olivia had stayed to finish the drink, not keen on returning to her empty apartment. It would be cruel, she knew, to stop Noah from visiting Connor, but she missed him when he was gone. And she hadn’t felt like missing her son and Elliot, with only her own thoughts for company. Trevor had found her just as she was working up to going home; said he had had a tough case, knew there was usually someone he knew in there for him to commiserate with. Asked if he could buy her a drink. So she had stayed, and it had been nice, and he had made her laugh and distracted her for a while. And then as they were parting a couple of hours later, he had asked if she wanted to have dinner the following week. And, maybe because she had had too much wine, or not enough food, she hadn’t wanted him to think that she was just outright rejecting him, so she had admitted that there was someone she was… ‘kind of seeing’ (an ironic description given she wouldn’t be seeing Elliot at all for who knew how long). And she had apologised if she had given him the wrong impression, and he had dismissed her contrition and they had seen each other at the courthouse a few times after that and all had been normal enough that she had no qualms about calling him in for Cassie.

Then he had helped her out with Joy.

And he had witnessed her reunion with Elliot.

And he wasn’t stupid.

“… Just to dinner,” she told Amanda. There was no way she was sharing the whole story.

“What did you say?”

She checked, again, that no one else had wandered in.

“I said yes, Amanda. We’ve actually been dating for months.”

Amanda narrowed her eyes at her.

“I politely declined,” she summarised.

“Because of Stabler?”

And Olivia narrowed her eyes.

“All right, all right… Wow… You know, just because we don’t see each other every day, doesn’t mean you can keep me out of the loop like this.”

“I didn’t keep you in a loop when we did see each other every day.”

“No, but I noticed things… Carisi notices nothing.”

“Oh, I think Carisi notices plenty. He just knows when to keep his mouth shut.”

“Are you encouraging my husband to lie to me?”

“To withhold my private information.”

“You know I’m going to ask him later; he’ll cave under interrogation.”

“We’ll see,” Olivia smiled. Despite her infuriating ability to know exactly what feelings Olivia was adamantly ignoring, she had missed Amanda.

She had a rethink of that sentiment forty-five minutes later, though.

“Fair warning,” Amanda began as she joined Olivia in the kitchen, again, popping some glasses into the sink.

“Would you stop clearing up?” Olivia reprimanded – she had lost track of how many times that was now – as she moved leftover sandwiches onto one plate.

“I’m happy to help… Anyway, the warning…”

“What’s that?”

“Joy’s asleep on Stabler and, I don’t think it’s the pregnancy hormones, it is freakin’ swoon-worthy.”

Olivia covered the plate and put it into the fridge and ignored Amanda’s tone.

“Liv…” Amanda had approached the fridge door; was lurking behind it when Olivia closed it. And when Olivia attempted to side-step her, she moved to intercept. “I know he hurt you,” she had lowered her voice and Olivia was grateful for that, at least. “But… he adores you. I mean, I thought it was obvious when we’ve worked together, but today… watching him watch you… He’s not going to hurt you again, Liv.”

She wouldn’t tell her. She was not going to tell Amanda anything about the development in her relationship with Elliot until she had got her own head – and heart – around the fact that there had been a development. But hearing Amanda echo what her own thoughts had been lately was a comfort. It didn’t necessarily make it any easier for her to believe that the risk would be worth it and it would all work out, but, it was a small comfort, nonetheless.

“Amanda…” Years of practice deflecting Amanda and her personal questions provided the right tone to use to make her friend think Olivia was protesting.

“Just think about it,” Amanda encouraged. “… Don’t postpone joy… Ha,” she laughed, “not sure this,” she waved a hand to indicate the party, “is what you had in mind, huh?”

… …

Olivia closed the door behind Elliot’s daughters, their partners and kids, after they had whisper-shouted more goodbyes at Elliot, who was still pinned beneath a sleeping Joy on the couch.

Rich and Bernie were still there, on the Switch in Noah’s room. Bernie was, apparently, in the lead on Mario Party and the guys were determined not to let her stop playing until they found out if the bonuses at the end would knock her off the top spot.

Everyone else had left though. They had helped with a lot of the tidying up before they went, leaving mainly just decorations to take down. Olivia smiled, again, at the sight of Joy fast asleep on Elliot’s chest and decided those could stay up a little longer.

She made her way over to the couch, curling one leg up beneath her on the cushion as she sat down beside him. From this angle she could see Joy’s little face, completely content; and, this close, she could hear the occasional soft snore.

“She’s out cold,” she murmured with a chuckle.

“She’s had a very special day,” Elliot said, softly.

“Mmm…” Olivia perched her elbow on the back of the couch so she could rest her head on her hand.

“Amanda’s photo of her in her highchair is cute,” he remarked. “I think she liked the tutu.”

“She looked like she wants to murder me in my sleep.”

“That means you’re a good mom.”

Olivia scoffed and raised her eyes from Joy to meet Elliot’s. “Thank you… For helping out today.”

“Of course… But I do have an ulterior motive.”

She smiled, slowly, as his lips curved into a teasing grin. “Yeah?”

The backs of his fingers brushed against her knee as he whispered. “I want you to like me.”

She moved her free hand to entwine her fingers with his, whispering back, “I do like you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She glanced toward the kitchen door, listened for a moment to make sure there were no sounds of pending interruption, then leant in and kissed him.

His hold on her fingers tightened as he kissed her back and Olivia hummed contentedly before pulling away.

Elliot looked at her with a similar expression of awe to earlier in the kitchen. “We really should start kissing when there’s more time to enjoy it,” he remarked.

She laughed, “We will.” But right now she sat back and told him, “I’m going to go finish up in the kitchen.”

“I could put her down and help,” he offered.

“No… She’s comfy, let her stay where she is. I’ll manage.” She leaned in and stole another gentle kiss before dragging herself away.

… …

When the Mario Party had ended (with Bernie’s victory) Elliot had managed to transfer Joy from his hold to her crib without incident, and Olivia had marvelled at how completely worn out the girl was; she supposed it was the most people Joy had been around in a long time and all that excitement had taken its toll. They had very carefully changed her for bed, but she didn’t so much as squeak, settling down as soon as they had finished. And they had snuck in a brief, feverish, embrace before leaving Olivia’s room. Brief because they quickly realised it was far too feverish for them to risk it when Elliot’s son and mother were waiting for him to drive them home.

Not that anyone probably would have noticed anything amiss given they were still lamenting (in the boys’ case; celebrating in Bernie’s) the outcome of the game, when Elliot and Olivia rejoined them in the living room.

“You must have been practising!” Rich was insisting. “Do you secretly have your own Switch?”

“Never played it before in my life,” Bernie argued, but Olivia was suspicious of the gleam in her eyes.

“Let it go, Rich,” Elliot suggested, grasping his older son’s shoulder. “Grandma beat you; you’ve just got to accept it.”

“Can we come round some time so I can get tips?” Noah asked Bernie, who hugged him into her side as she headed for the door.

“Any time you like, kiddo.”

Olivia’s heart skipped, watching Noah embraced like that by Bernie. By Elliot’s mom. Watching him accept it so freely, as if he had known her all his life. Watching him help her with her jacket and duck away laughing when she ruffled his curls.

Maybe Noah would be okay with all the changes all at once; with all the additions to their little team of two.

Maybe the only person who would be overwhelmed by it all was her.

She found Elliot watching her, closely, when she came out of her drifting thoughts. She tried to offer him a reassuring smile but wasn’t sure that some of the anxiety starting to churn in her gut didn’t make itself known.

They said their goodbyes to Noah, and to Olivia, and headed out, and she tried again for a convincingly content smile so Elliot wouldn’t worry. She wanted this – so much – she would just need some adjustment time.

“Is there time for me to practise a little before I have to go to bed?” Noah grinned at her as soon as the door was closed.

It was early enough, but it would get him out of the final bits of clean up. “Half an hour,” she permitted, “then help me get these banners down.”

He practically skipped off to his room and Olivia’s gaze was just drifting to the couch, and the earlier image of Joy fast asleep on Elliot, and the soft, tender kiss they had shared, and the decidedly hotter kiss in her room, when there was a knock at the door behind her.

She checked the peephole and smiled as she opened the door.

“Forgot my jacket,” he told her.

She glanced at the coat rack, nothing there except those of hers and Noah’s that always were.

“You didn’t bring a jacket,” she reminded him, casting her mind back to his arrival.

“Oh.” His eyes darted around the room behind her. “Noah?”

“Practising Mario P—”

He cupped her cheeks as he had in the kitchen, drawing her towards him, capturing her lips, confidently, and masterfully, and she met him eagerly, losing her words into his kiss.

It heated up, as it had when they put Joy to bed, then gradually wound down, both knowing they didn’t have long.

“Don’t… overthink… this,” he implored between slow but searing kisses, then he pulled back and met her eyes. “We can do this,” he whispered, and she nodded within his hold, because, by God, she wanted to. “Call me?” he requested. “Later? When Noah’s asleep and your brain has started whirring.”

“I will,” she promised, and she leaned in and kissed him to reinforce it. “Elliot, I want this,” she told him, “I want this.”

And they stole one last kiss while they grinned at each other.

… … …

Chapter Text

It was not a surprise that Fin followed her into her office. The details were fuzzy but an additional coil of guilt inside her suggested she had snapped, unnecessarily, at her team.

“You okay?” her sergeant asked as he pushed the door closed behind them.

“I’m fine,” she told him, her go to response, busying herself rooting through the detritus on her desk, trying to find the file she needed for a meeting with McGrath in an hour.

“You know, when I ask that it’s because I already know the answer,” Fin pointed out. “What’s going on?”

Her stomach rolled at the thought of what was going on. She didn’t want to admit to it out loud.

“I’m just tired. We got about three hours sleep.”

When Fin didn’t say anything in response, she glanced up to find him smirking at her, his eyes sparkling.

“Oh yeah?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Joy kept us awake all night.”

“‘Us’ being?”

“Fin! Focus.”

He rolled his eyes, but he sat himself down on the couch to listen. “All right. Joy kept you and Noah awake…”

She continued to rifle through her desk. She had located the file already but she couldn’t let him look too closely at her. “We’re both in —” Her voice wavered as she thought about the morning at home. “— excellent spirits this morning,” she finished, hoping Fin wouldn’t push for details.

“A preteen with only three hours sleep, I can imagine that.”

She didn’t have to imagine it. She had witnessed it. She still felt each devastating blow of everything he had said to her.

“Yeah. Marco’s taken him to school; he said he’ll warn them that he’s exhausted.”

“Marco’s the new nanny?… Do you want me to take point for a while; run interference so you can nap?”

What had she done to deserve Fin in her life? She stopped her pointless fidgeting to fix him with a smile of genuine gratitude. “Thank you, but McGrath will not take kindly to me subbing you in and I would not do that to you.”

Fin shrugged, “I can handle him.”

Her smile widened, she blamed the tears she could feel prickling at her eyes on the lack of sleep. “I know. But, still, I’ll save that up for another time.”

“If you’re sure you can stay awake.”

“Well that’s touch and go at most of our meetings, so who knows?”

Her phone pinged from the desk somewhere – she had apparently buried it in her bid to avoid Fin’s observant eyes. She flipped over folders until she found it; secretly hoping it would be cancelling the looming meeting.

No such luck.

“Dinner tonight? I’ll cook.”

Her stomach rolled again. She put the phone down without replying.

It pinged again as it hit the desk.

“Noah and Joy too, obviously.”

Her chest clenched this time but she couldn’t let it show with Fin still sitting on the sofa, no doubt watching her every move.

“Anything I can take off your plate?” he offered.

“No. No, thank you.” She chanced another smile in his direction. She wanted him to leave, but she didn’t want to say it; dismissing him would only make him more intrigued as to what was going on. But she needed some deep, calming breaths – and soon - but she would not take them in front of him.

“Okay.” He watched her for a moment longer, so saw her ignore the next ping that came from her phone. Then he stood. “I’ll get out of your way; I’ll check in with Velasco and Churlish. Let me know if you change your mind about McGrath,” he said, swinging open the office door. “Imagining the look on his face would brighten your day.”

That managed to make her laugh and she shot him another grateful look. “Thanks, Fin.”

He left and she waited until he was at his own desk before she drew in a long, deep breath.

Her phone pinged again.

She looked down at it, activating the screen, but leaving it on the desk.

“I’m thinking, maybe, seafood linguine?”

The other message was from Marco. She picked up the phone to read that one properly, in case there was a problem.

“All fine at the school; I’ve explained the situation with Joy. She even cried on cue in the school office to back up my story… He’s okay. He’s sorry, you know. He feels terrible. I’ve told him you know he didn’t mean any of it. That you can talk later and straighten things out. I can take Joy out if you want, give you two some time.”

She ran her hand over her face.

… you know he didn’t mean any of it.

She wasn’t so sure.

Another ping. She rested her fingers against her chin so she could read it.

“Or maybe a mushroom risotto? I know you have that meeting with McGrath today, so let me know what you’re in the mood for. I’ll swing by the grocery store on my way over.”

Tears stung her eyes, blurred her vision, as her chest clenched again.

She couldn’t do this now. She had to meet McGrath in less than an hour. She had to be awake and with it and if he so much as got a hint that Joy was affecting her day job he would have a field day with it. He still hadn’t forgiven her for taking her in.

She replied to Marco, to thank him, and to hope that Joy wouldn’t be too much trouble for him; said she would let him know about later, if he should take Joy out.

She stared, for a moment, at the string of messages from Elliot. But it wasn’t his words that echoed in her head.

I guess I wasn’t enough for you.

A tear dripped onto her cheek as Noah’s voice repeated as if he were right there with her. She swiped it away.

You were just waiting for him to come back.

He was tired. He was exhausted. She knew that, she had reminded herself of that as he left the apartment with Marco; on her journey to the precinct. But tiredness didn’t produce thoughts like that from nowhere. He had to have been feeling like that already.

She had known it was a bad idea. She had known that she didn’t have time to balance the changes for the kids and a relationship with Elliot.

She had known from the minute Trevor told her that Cassie wanted her to take care of Joy that it would mean nothing could ever happen with Elliot.

She had known that, but she had pushed her luck anyway. She had been selfish; she had put herself above Noah, and he was paying the price.

She opened her message thread with Noah and sent him a kiss emoji. She didn’t want him having to think about their morning while he was at school if he could avoid it, but hoped that the message would at least reassure him.

Then she put her phone away without replying to Elliot. Met with McGrath; caught up with the team on the morning’s developments in their case; skipped lunch; worried about Noah. Without replying to Elliot. While steadfastly trying to pretend there was nothing to reply to.

He called around four. She was watching Fin and Velasco interrogate their suspect, so she ignored it. He called again forty minutes later. She was alone in her office this time but she couldn’t bring herself to answer. She watched the call ring through to voicemail, waited for the alert about a new message. He hadn’t left one the first time, but it was getting closer to when he would be leaving work. He would want to know what to buy for dinner.

She picked up the phone from her desk, her chest already tightening. She couldn’t face speaking to him, wasn’t sure she would be able to get any words out. But she wanted to hear his voice.

“Hey, it’s me. Sorry you’re having a crazy day. If you can, let me know about dinner. I should be out of here in half an hour.”

She closed her eyes against the sting of tears, forced her lips to stop trembling. Then she opened her messages and replied to his earlier questions.

“Sorry, tonight’s not good. Something’s come up.” She paused, wondering how to end the message. She wanted to ask for a rain check; she wanted to suggest a better time; she wanted to call him and talk to him and hold on a little longer, but it would give both of them false hope.

In the end she just left it at that and hit send.

Of course he assumed that what had ‘come up’ was work. “Want me to take over with the kids from Marco?”

A tear escaped this time and she viciously swiped it from her cheek before typing her reply. “No. Thanks. I’ll be home. I just need to talk to Noah and I think it’s best it’s just the two of us.”

She prayed he wouldn’t ask for more information; that he wouldn’t call again seeing as she was obviously with her phone.

Simultaneously, she hoped that he would.

“Okay, no problem. You know where I am if you need me.”

Whether the flood of tears to her eyes was relief or grief she couldn’t tell.

… …

As promised, Marco had Joy all set for a walk when Olivia got home. Her stroller waiting by the door with her jacket and bag.

The nap Joy had taken that afternoon – and the dose of painkillers - had clearly worked wonders for her, she grinned up at Olivia the moment she spotted her and used the coffee table to pull herself to her feet and shuffle her way in Olivia’s direction to throw herself at her legs.

Despite the tiredness and the day and the dread that lay heavy in her stomach regarding Noah and Elliot, Olivia had to smile. She crouched down and lifted Joy into a hug.

“Hello, sweet girl,” she murmured, holding her close, inhaling the soft scent of her. This was what mattered, giving this little one a safe, loving home.

Olivia tried not to think about the origins of the compass that Joy immediately began to play with, meanwhile Marco smiled at her from his seat on the couch. “How you doing?” he asked her, sympathetically.

Theirs was still a new relationship, but he seemed to understand that, for all Olivia could – and would - be a badass, she was incredibly vulnerable when it came to her perception of how she was doing as a mother. He never said anything outright, but he was quietly supportive and encouraging.

“I think, at this point, I’m ninety-nine percent caffeine.”

Marco laughed and stood. “Noah fell asleep about an hour ago. I wasn’t going to leave him much longer, but I figured it was best to allow him at least a little nap.”

“Yeah. Thank you. I’ll wake him…” She adjusted Joy so she could see her face. “And you, lucky girl, are going to the park.”

Joy scowled at her as if the park was the last place she wanted to go, but she put up no protest when Marco took her from Olivia and bundled her into the stroller.

“We’ll be about an hour,” he confirmed, “But call if you need longer.”

“Thank you,” she nodded, waving to Joy as Marco backed out of the apartment.

The door closed behind them, Olivia let her smile drop, felt the weight of what the evening had in store settle back over her chest. She longed to just take a nap – or a walk in the park – herself, and maybe everything would seem easier afterwards.

That was not an option, though, so instead she took a deep breath, put away her work things and was on the verge of getting changed when she reprimanded herself for procrastinating. She glanced at herself in her bedroom mirror; her eyes caught on the compass and for a moment she stood and stared at it, her mind racing with a montage of memories, the whirlwind of the last five weeks, since Joy’s birthday. Five weeks of evenings with Elliot; kisses and TV on the couch when the kids were asleep. Normality, almost.

She snapped herself out of it; torturing herself with what she was about to lose was not going to improve the evening at all. So, she steeled herself for what needed to come next and made her way to Noah’s room.

She knocked on the door in case he was awake; softly, in case he was asleep. On receiving no response, she carefully turned the handle and slowly pushed open the door. He was flaked out on top of his bedcovers, curls wild around his head, some plastered across his forehead.

He looked so long like this and she stood, for a moment, and watched him sleep in the shaft of light coming from the kitchen; thought back on watching him, like this, when he first came to her, when he was so small and precious and hearing his calm, relaxed breaths spurred a mixture of overwhelming happiness and fear; disbelief that she would be allowed that kind of love; anxiety that it wouldn’t last. It never lasted.

But, here they were, nearly a decade later and he was still as precious, still as small, as vulnerable, in so many ways; his words from that morning evidence of that. He was everything to her and she needed him to know that. To remember that, always.

“Noah…” she encouraged, quietly, but enough, she hoped, to rouse him without startling him. It didn’t. “Noah,” she tried again, lower, louder and he squirmed, resisting waking. “Noah, you shouldn’t nap any longer now —” She was going to add that he wouldn’t sleep later but she heard his scathing response, that he probably wouldn’t be sleeping later anyway, in her head before she spoke and she didn’t want to hear it in reality. The pain in his voice that morning still broke her heart.

She watched him force his eyes open, screwing them up against the light before blinking them open again, gradually coming to terms with being conscious.

“Hi.” He smiled at her. A proper, happy to see his mom, smile and Olivia’s dread began to fritter away. Only to return like lead when his smile fell, his mind obviously having caught up with the day’s events, remembering how they had left things the last time they saw each other. She had wanted to resolve it that morning, to not let him leave for school until he was happier, but he was adamant he would not be late, he was insistent that it would make everything a million times worse if he was late as well as tired and it had seemed selfish to force him to stay to appease her own pain if it would only make his worse. Marco had assured her that Noah just needed time – and sleep – and he didn’t seem to be thinking she was a bad mother for allowing them to leave. She still wasn’t so sure; but she couldn’t turn back time.

“Can I come in?” she asked him, hoping her tone sounded gentle, hoping he would understand that she wasn’t there to reprimand him.

He shrugged, “Sure,” but she was reassured to see it was a nervous shrug rather than an angry one.

She moved into his room, leaned across to switch on his bedside lamp, and he shuffled to sit against the wall to allow her space to sit at the end of the bed. She curled her right leg beneath her so she could face him; her fingers played with the duvet cover as she decided how to begin. Noah watched her, nervously, and she wanted to find some way to allay his fears.

“How was school?” she asked, softly.

He shrugged, but still kept his eyes on her uncertainly. “I managed to stay awake.”

“That’s good. I was pretty close to napping in my meeting with Chief McGrath.” She smiled to encourage him to do the same, relieved when his cheeks twitched into amusement, even if only briefly. “… I’m sorry about last night, Noah. I, er, I’d hoped that Joy moving in wouldn’t disrupt your routine too much, but I — Well, I may have been a little naïve.”

“It’s okay.”

“You don’t have to say that. Noah, I’d like to talk about this morning, and I don’t want you to tell me what you think I want to hear. You can be honest with me.”

“I was just tired this morning, I didn’t mean any of it. I don’t wish Joy never came here. I’m sorry I said that —”

“I know, honey.”

“Do you think she… understood what I said?”

“No. No, she didn’t.”

“I don’t hate you for bringing her here —”

It broke her heart that he remembered every word he had said; she had hoped that he had been venting in exhausted anger and wouldn’t really know what words had come out of his mouth. This line by line apology implied it had all probably echoed in his mind all day.

“I know,” she assured him with a trembling smile. “But it’s okay to hate the situation. To be angry at only getting a few hours sleep… But, sometimes, when we’re tired or upset, that’s when what we’re really thinking or feeling comes out —”

His face fell, his eyes wide and imploring, “I don’t hate you.”

“I know, I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant. Noah, the last few months have been, a bit of a whirlwind. And I realise I’ve been focused on Joy and settling her in and I haven’t really given you the opportunity to tell me if you weren’t happy.”

“You’ve asked me if I’m okay.”

“And did you tell me the truth?”

He shrugged again but didn’t answer.

“You can tell me,” she encouraged, gently. “Whatever it is you’ve been keeping back.”

He stared at her, his eyes wide but thoughtful, his jaw clenching as she watched him decide what to do. She braced herself for more about Joy, about him feeling neglected. About Elliot.

Eventually, he wrapped his arms around his knees, curling himself – she suspected unintentionally – into a small ball, nestled in the corner of his bed. “Is that how you ended up with me?” he asked her, his voice just as small.

She frowned, thrown by the unexpected direction of his thoughts.

“… Someone forced you to take me in?”

“Noah… No!” She had had no idea that Joy’s arrival had him thinking like that, or about that. She reached out to him, placing her hand softly on his knee. “From the second I knew that you would need a home, I hoped it would be with me.” Tears stung at her eyes, remembering the moment she had found him; the moment Judge Linden had changed her entire life. She smiled at him, because that miracle would always make her smile. “Noah when they said you could come live with me, that was the happiest moment of my life.”

His lips twitched again towards a smile, his cheeks flushed.

“And you have brought me so many happy moments since, honey. With your energy and your kind heart and the way you use that smile of yours on me to get your own way.”

That made him chuckle as she had hoped it would, his hold on his knees relaxing. She chanced taking hold of his hand, and he allowed it.

“You believe me?” she checked. “You’re my world.”

He nodded, gave another shrug. “I just — Wondered.”

“That’s understandable…” She needed him to understand though, that she had made the choice to bring in Joy. “But, Noah, no one forced me to take in Joy either. She needed us and… I knew we could help her.”

“Cassie knew you wouldn’t say no.”

“Probably.”

He looked at her, cautiously, again, and she prompted him to share whatever he was thinking.

“… I’d have been angry.”

“What do you —”

“If I’d found out you were asked to take Joy and you said no. I’d have been angry. You help people; it’s what makes you you…”

Tears welled in her eyes again. She really couldn’t handle this conversation on so little sleep.

“I know she can’t help crying,” he continued, as if unaware that he had just melted her heart. “I know that, I was just so tired.”

“I know, honey.”

“Leo said his little sister cried every night for two years —”

She really hoped Leo had exaggerated, but it warmed her anxious heart to hear Noah make the comparison to his friend and his sister, and to know that he had talked to his friend about what was going on.

“— But he said she’s awesome now.”

Olivia smiled. “It won’t be forever. Hopefully once these teeth are through she’ll be a lot more settled. She’s getting used to us.”

“Did I used to cry like that?”

“Sometimes.”

“Did you regret taking me in?”

“Never.”

He was quiet for a moment, watching her closely, his lips tightening nervously. She let him have the time to process what she had said.

Eventually, he spoke again in a quiet voice. “Not even this morning?”

She smiled, understandingly, sympathetically, she hoped, reassuringly. “Never, Noah. Not even this morning.”

“I was horrible.”

“You were overtired.”

“I upset you.”

“I was worried about you.”

He shook his head. “What I said about Elliot, that upset you.”

She ignored the pounding of her heart and the churning in her stomach. They had to have this conversation, she knew. She couldn’t run from it as she had done with Elliot for decades.

“It surprised me. You’ve seemed to like having Elliot around.”

“I have. I do. I don’t know why I said it.”

Because when we’re tired the truth comes out. “It’s been another big change. We’ve gone from two to four in a matter of weeks and I didn’t — I should have asked you how you felt about that, too.”

“So you are dating?”

She met his shrewd eyes. They hadn’t told Noah that; had kept things platonic in his presence; kept up the pretence that Elliot was there to help out with Joy. And she didn’t want to tell him now that they were dating, not when she knew deep down that she was going to have to put an end to whatever they were. She hated to lie to Noah, but she didn’t want him blaming himself.

“We’re not dating.” It wasn’t a complete lie, after all, they had not had the opportunity to go on what anyone would class as a ‘date’.

Noah frowned. “He’s here a lot.”

“He wanted to help with Joy. He has a lot of experience.” She hoped her laugh sounded more genuine than it felt.

“I think he wants to date you.”

Her eyes widened; he was too observant for his own good. Or, at least, for her own good. “Oh you do, do you?”

“And it’d be okay. If you were dating. He makes you happy.”

“You and Joy make me happy.”

He rolled his eyes. “Just think about what I’m saying.”

She would, but that didn’t mean she would believe he wasn’t just saying what he thought she needed to hear after his outburst that morning.

“I think we need some time to adjust to all of this… And, tonight, we just need dinner and we need sleep.”

“Is Elliot coming over?”

“No.”

“He can if —”

“No. It’ll just be the three of us when Joy gets back from her walk.”

Just the three of them. As it should have been from the start.

… …

If her mind wandered a couple of times during dinner to the seafood linguine or the mushroom risotto that Elliot had offered, well she firmly drew it back to the present, to her children. To watching Noah entertain Joy with a game of peekaboo with a napkin. He was trying to make it up to her for his words that morning, she could tell; paying the girl more attention than he usually did, offering to feed her, playing games with her. It was beautiful to watch, she just wished it hadn’t needed things to come to such a head before it happened.

A final dose of painkillers and two bedtime stories – read by Noah – saw Joy fall asleep rather quickly, for her, and Olivia suggested Noah should have an early night to catch up on what was missed the night before, hopeful, as she said it, that tonight would not be disturbed.

She knew she should get some sleep as well, while she could. But it was barely eight and she knew she would wake herself up in the early hours of the morning if she let herself sleep then.

Of course, being awake, without the children to focus on and distract her, meant her thoughts went immediately back to Elliot. And she did think about what Noah had said, about his approval for a relationship between her and Elliot. But she knew that what he had said to her in tired anger that morning was likely a more accurate account of how he truly felt. It was too much, too soon. And no matter how much it felt like a vice around her heart to even consider Elliot not being around, Noah had to come first. Noah always should have come first. Joy needed them; Elliot was just a… an indulgence. And she needed to stop it before it went any further, before they all became embroiled more deeply.

A small voice in her head tried to suggest that she was using Noah as an excuse to run, as she always did; to get out because she was scared, because it was too much for her. Because, if it were over, she would no longer have to worry about whether it would work; whether he truly wanted to be with her, or – as plagued her on nights when she couldn’t sleep and her mind was on overthinking overdrive – whether he was there because he believed a child should have two parents; whether they could make it work when it was an echo of how he had come to be married to Kathy forty years ago, how he had ended up back home after the divorce: An unexpected child that threw them together.

If she ended it now, she wouldn’t have to wonder or worry about any of that. She would never have to admit to him that the thoughts had even entered her head. She would never have to know the answers.

But the thought of calling him, of trying to voice her decision, of trying to sound like it wasn’t breaking her heart, was more than she could face. She needed to sleep before that; she would need energy to keep her walls up; to stand her ground if he tried to talk her out of it.

When he tried to talk her out of it.

Because, despite her worries and wonderings, she knew he wouldn’t give up on this without a fight. Despite every excuse and explanation she could make about him being in this for Joy, because he felt compelled to, because it was the right, Catholic, thing to do, she also knew he wanted to be with her. Had been nudging her towards this before Joy had even been born. Had almost kissed her on more than one occasion. Had looked at her with such love and hope in his eyes.

But she hadn’t been ready. And she hadn’t been convinced that he was ready, that it had been long enough, since Kathy. That he wasn’t just lonely. He had never fared well alone. Was he drawn to her, to their past connection, because he needed someone? Was it her he wanted, or just companionship? Just not to be alone anymore?

These were all fears and questions she had needed to address, along with whether she could trust him again (she did, implicitly, but was it wise?); whether she should open herself to him after he just left without a word before; whether she truly wanted him or whether he was just familiar, a shot at something she had never been allowed, a question from the past that she could now get the answer to. This was the “so much” she had told him she still needed to figure out. But she had swept it all aside in favour of kissing him. Had given in to the tenderness she felt watching him with Joy. And now they were five weeks in and her son was suffering, and she had been selfish, and did Elliot even want this? Did he really want to start again on raising a child, or was he doing it because it was that or no Olivia at all? Surely ending it now was better for all of them.

In lieu of screaming, she threw the dishcloth at the sink, momentarily enjoying the chaos of water splashing onto the counter. She gripped the counter with both hands, trying to take a deep breath; trying to calm her thoughts and her heart.

Early morning be damned, she needed to sleep.

She wiped up the mess she had made; let the water out of the sink and was just approaching the apartment door to check she had locked it, when there was a knock from the other side.

She froze. There was a limited number of people who would have got that far unannounced, but she didn’t need to ponder the list. Only one would turn up without telling her.

She stared at the door, simultaneously longing to open it and willling him to go away.

He knocked again, a little louder, probably thinking she might be in the kitchen and hadn’t heard him the first time.

She continued to stare. If she opened it, she would have to action her plan. End things. With Elliot. For good. Or maybe not for good. Maybe just for a couple of years until things were settled and Joy was older and — No, they could not do a couple more years of will-they-won’t-they. It was now or never, and she knew which it had to be.

Her phone started to ring in her back pocket. Elliot knew she was home. Of course he would ring when she wasn’t answering the door.

She silenced the phone and stepped towards the door. Might as well get it over with. At least then she wouldn’t have to spend all night thinking about how the conversation was going to go.

“What are you doing here?” she asked him, and she watched a smile fall from his face.

He frowned, understandably surprised by her attitude. “I thought you might need me.”

She moved into the apartment so he would follow, they couldn’t have this talk in the hallway.

“I told you I need to be on my own.”

“No,” he said, slowly, as he pushed the door closed behind him, “you told me you needed to speak to Noah alone.”

“It’s the same thing.”

“No. It isn’t…”

He gently took hold of her elbow and she fought vehemently against the instinct to turn into him and let him hold her. How had it become instinct in five weeks?

“What’s going on?”

She did turn to face him, but she took a step backwards as she did so he wasn’t so temptingly close. “I have responsibilities, Elliot, I told you that when this started.”

He was still frowning, and why wouldn’t he be? She hadn’t told him anything of what had happened that morning; he knew nothing of what was going on in her head.

“And I told you that I already knew that, and I wouldn’t get in the way.”

“And yet you can’t give me one night to myself.”

His eyes widened at that. “You didn’t ask for a night to yourself.”

“I didn’t ask you to come over.”

“No…” he accepted, softly, “But I wanted to help.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“And you won’t admit that you want it.”

“I am perfectly capable of handling this myself.” She didn’t feel perfectly capable right then, but he didn’t need to know that.

“I know you are...”

He said it with such conviction, such pride, that her heart broke a little more.

“… whatever it is… But you don’t have to.”

“I do, Elliot. They’re my kids.”

“What’s happened? Is Noah okay?”

“He’s fine,” she assured him, conflictingly touched by his genuine concern.

“Then what’s going on?”

She closed her eyes, trying to think straight rather than about how worried he looked, how caring he looked, how he just wanted to help her. “I can’t do this.”

“You can’t tell me what’s going on?” he asked, but she could hear apprehension in his tone, he knew it was more than that.

She forced her eyes open and they immediately met his, saying everything she hadn’t yet found the words for.

She watched him prepare to fight. His jaw tightening, his eyes narrowing. “What happened?”

“It’s just not the right —”

“Olivia, it didn’t feel like the wrong time when you were kissing me on that couch last night. Or when you were murmuring as I was leaving that you didn’t want me to go...”

Her body traitorously relived the sensations of those moments he had mentioned. Had that really been less than twenty-four hours ago? It felt like a whole other life.

“… Something’s spooked you,” he accused, “What happened? Did McGrath say something?”

“No.” But, in that other life, she had been intending to speak to Elliot about disclosing at work. She hadn’t wanted something there to come between them, like it had with David. “McGrath doesn’t know anything.”

“So, Noah then? What did he say?”

“This isn’t —”

“Liv, you look exhausted and on the verge of tears; you’re trying to end this against your own wishes —” Damn him and his ability to read her. “— so unless one of your team said something, or some aspect of your case has scared you… What did Noah say?”

“I am exhausted because Joy was up most of the night and we got about three hours sleep. I was about to go to bed when you arrived.”

He had the good grace to look a little contrite about that, but it didn’t deflect him as she had hoped it might. “You haven’t answered my question,” he reminded her in such a gentle voice that she wanted to give in.

“It doesn’t matter what Noah said, Elliot, I can’t do this. I need to focus on the kids —”

“And the couple of hours a week you’ll gain from not making out with me will help?”

“It’s more than that —”

“Is it? Then tell me how I can help? If I’ve stopped you from being there for your kids, Liv, tell me what I did and I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

She tried. She stood in front of him and she tried to remember why ending this would help; tried to summon examples of how she had neglected the kids in favour of Elliot; tried to find a convincing argument as to how things would be better – for anyone – if they weren’t together.

And he watched her fail to come up with anything.

“Liv, it’s normal for an older sibling to feel a little… neglected when a younger child comes along. And they usually have some time to get used to the idea that it’s going to happen.”

“A sibling isn’t the only thing I’ve sprung on him,” she muttered, turning and heading for the kitchen. If they were going to talk about this now, she needed coffee.

Elliot followed, leaning back against the counter beside her so he could keep his voice quiet when he asked, “Has he said he doesn’t want me around?”

He tried to keep his voice neutral but she could hear the hurt in it. She started the coffee going then looked up at him.

“No,” she assured him, softly, “He hasn’t said that… But he — Elliot, I’ve changed too much for him all at once.”

“Did he say that?”

“He’s not going to say that. He knows Joy needs us; he knows I… care for you. He’s not going to tell me that it bothers him.”

Elliot turned towards her, leaning closer. “Why don’t I take Joy this weekend? You and Noah can spend some time together.”

“I can’t —”

“You’re not asking, I’m offering.”

“I’m working Saturday,” she explained, not that she would have accepted the offer if she hadn’t been.

“So, Joy and I will pick Noah up from dance; we’ll go to the zoo or something, then she can stay at mine and you and Noah can have Sunday.”

He made it sound so easy, as if it was the kind of thing they did all the time. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

He rolled his eyes, but he was smiling at her. “You’re not asking,” he repeated. “Liv, this is what I’m here for.”

“I feel like I’d be using you.”

He frowned, deeply. “Using me?”

“Letting you do all that when… there’s still no guarantee this’ll work out.”

“Olivia, this is what this working out looks like. A problem arises, or one of us feels a little crap, we open up to the other about it, and we work through it together… You taught me that.”

She actually laughed out loud at that, glancing away as she shook her head in disbelief. She was hardly a source of relationship advice.

He ducked his head into her peripheral vision. “How many times did you tell me I was going to lose the best thing that ever happened to me? You were right… And I did better, in the end.”

She met his eyes again, sympathetically. “El —”

Crying from her bedroom interrupted her. She offered Elliot an apologetic smile and made to move in that direction but he stepped in front of her. “Let me.”

“I can —”

“Make your coffee.”

She watched him disappear into her room with a mixture of feelings that she couldn’t fully process. She was supposed to be ending this; curtailing it before everyone got in any deeper. This hardly fit that plan.

But she didn’t follow to stop him.

… …

The crying subsided shortly after Elliot had entered the room, but several minutes later, he hadn’t returned to the kitchen.

Olivia had made two cups of coffee, placed the sugar next to Elliot’s in case he wanted it and tried to assess – again – whether or not she could make this work, as he thought she could. She wanted to. God, she wanted to. But it was all so complicated.

When she realised he had been gone for a while, she crossed the room and was just about to open the bedroom door when she registered Elliot’s quiet voice.

And it was singing.

She stepped closer to the door, listening intently to identify what lullaby he had chosen, only to have her chest simultaneously tighten and melt when she recognised the lyrics.

“I am the luckiest man alive
Did I tell you, baby,
You are the joy of my life?”

She closed her eyes and rested her head against the doorframe, listening while he finished the song, fighting between her instinct to run and her desire to have everything she had always wanted.

That’s where he found her when he emerged minutes later, though she stepped back to allow space for him to leave the bedroom.

“It’s too late, isn’t it?” she said.

Elliot frowned, “What do you mean?”

She nodded her head towards her bedroom door. “It’s too late to back out of this. Everyone’s already attached.”

“Do you want to back out of this?” he asked her, seriously, and she sensed that if she told him that was what she wanted he would try to accept it.

“I want to know that I’m doing what’s best for them,” she whispered, “And not just what I want to do.”

“What’s best for them,” he whispered back, “is for you to be happy…” For the first time since that hand on her elbow when he arrived, he touched her, tentatively resting his hands on her waist. They were both relieved when she settled into his touch, inching closer to him. “I just want you all to be happy. If you think that means we have to back off then —”

She shook her head to cut him off. “I don’t want that. Elliot, I want to do this but it’s bigger than us. If this doesn’t work, there are so many people it’ll hurt: Noah, Joy; your kids. I’m asking a lot of them to accept me , I —”

“What?”

“You know what I mean. With our history and —” And what he had blurted out at that intervention. “This won’t be easy for them. We should have told them before we —”

“They know, Liv… Not that anything’s happened. But… that I want it to.”

Her eyes widened. “You told them that?”

“They asked… That family dinner, the week before Joy’s birthday —”

She nodded that she remembered him mentioning it.

“— They asked what my intentions were.”

Her eyes widened even further. “Your intentions?”

“They advised me that there’s more than just my feelings at stake here. That if I wasn’t in this for the long term, then I shouldn’t get involved… They were on your side.”

“Maybe it just seemed that way —”

“Liv, we talked, a lot, that night. About Kathy; about then and now and… how precious life is.”

She felt a wave of nausea, overwhelmed suddenly by the enormity of what he was saying. The reality of what they were doing. She closed her eyes, tried to settle her stomach.

He brought his right hand up to cup the back of her neck, caressing her tenderly and she met his soft eyes.

“I don’t want us to be something you regret, El.”

“Not going to happen.”

“What if it doesn’t work out?”

As he stared into her eyes, pensively, it wasn’t lost on her, the similarity to January. The same question from her; the same panic and uncertainty. But the same hope. Hope that one day she wouldn’t let the fear stop her. And, for weeks, she hadn’t. She had pushed it aside in favour of going for what she wanted and, he was right, it had been working.

It had been good.

“I want to assure you that isn’t going to happen, Liv, but I doubt saying it is going to be enough. The only way to prove that this works out is to… live it.” He nestled her closer, and lowered his voice. “You know how I feel, Olivia —”

She did. Beneath and around all her fears, she knew how he felt and she knew why he hadn’t voiced it yet; knew he understood that knowing it and hearing it, at this stage, were different things, and that the latter would likely spook her. It made her love him even more.

“— we can make this work,” he promised her. “Give us a chance and we will make this work. For everyone involved.”

Give them a chance. That was all she had to do. And all she had ever wanted.

She nodded, leaning into the hand at her neck as she took a deep, soothing breath. She brought her own hand up to rest flat against his chest, feeling the steady beating of his heart beneath her palm.

“I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you today,” she told him.

“I’m sorry I turned up without asking.”

“I’m not,” she insisted, honestly. If he hadn’t shown up, she would still be talking herself out of this. “… I’ll get better at… sharing.” Her thoughts; her kids; her life.

He shrugged, a small smile on his lips. “Practice makes perfect.”

He leaned in and she tilted her head up, expecting him to kiss her – wanting and needing him to kiss her – but he stopped an inch from contact. “Let me take Joy Saturday night. Spend some time with Noah.”

She responded reflexively, “You don’t have —”

“Olivia…” he warned.

“Failed the first test,” she cringed, exaggeratedly.

“You’ll get there,” he whispered, and then he did kiss her, for what felt like the first time in years, and she melted into him. She slipped her hands round his back to pull him closer, ended up pinned between the firm comfort of him and her bedroom doorframe; caught herself just before releasing a contented sigh when she managed to remember where they were, and the proximity to Noah’s bedroom door.

Noah, who, just hours ago, she had assured nothing was going on with Elliot.

“Not here,” she murmured against Elliot’s lips, pushing herself up from the wall, and slipping out from his hold.

He followed as she bypassed their cooling drinks and walked into the living room, and the instant they were through the door, she found herself spinning until he had her pressed against the wall.

“I should go,” he told her, even as his lips recaptured hers, with seemingly no intention of going anywhere. “Let you get some sleep,” he continued.

“Mmm,” she agreed, wholeheartedly non-commitally.

He trailed his lips along her jaw, a hand against her neck encouraging her to tilt her head to give him better access. She acquiesced, trembling as he found that sensitive spot beneath her ear and kissed it, caressed it, teased it.

They were both breathing heavily by the time he dragged his kisses up to whisper roughly in her ear, “When are you moving to a three-bed apartment?”

She released a laugh that turned into a gasp when he returned his lips to her neck. When she finally regained her power of thought and recalled what he had asked, she pouted, “I’d just settled in here.”

She had thought about moving, obviously. They couldn’t continue forever with her and Joy sharing a room, but it was such a big task and she just hadn’t found the energy for it yet.

Elliot trailed a hand along her side, grazing her breast as he passed – always grazing, never touching; not with nowhere for things to progress to – before settling it on her hip and pulling her closer. “If you have your own room, I could stay over…” he murmured against her lips.

“Oh, I get that.”

“I could help when Joy’s crying in the night…” He slipped his hand to the small of her back, pressed their bodies closer, dropped gentle kisses along the other side of her jaw. “I could get up early with her on a Saturday morning…”

She moaned when his teeth grazed the skin of her shoulder. “Are you trying to seduce me with the promise of more sleep?”

He slid his hand down to cup her ass. “Is it working?”

She grasped the back of his head, pulling it up to meet hers. “Embarrassingly well,” she admitted before drawing him into a deep kiss.

…

They kissed until it got too heated for her living room and then froze, still pressed together, catching their breath, calming their hearts and bodies.

“I’ll look into apartments,” she told him, breathlessly.

He nodded, his nose brushing hers with the movement.

“You know,” she added, “you can always sleep on the couch if you really want to help me out.”

At their age they probably should be able to share her bed and resist the temptation to touch each other, but she wasn’t convinced. Plus, there was how it would look to Noah.

He chuckled, dropped a tiny kiss to the end of her nose. “I can do that.”

“I was joking. I don’t expect you to do that.”

He pulled his head back to find her eyes properly. “Liv. Let me help.”

She nodded. “Let’s see how she goes.”

She leaned in and chanced another kiss, because twelve hours ago she had thought she could never do this again. But here they were. On the other side of a hurdle that she would have allowed to topple this, were it any other man.

Were it not what she had wanted for far, far longer than she would ever admit.

Were it not Elliot.

She just had to take the chance.

She just had to do it.

Practice makes perfect.

Well, she was going to perfect the hell out of this.

Chapter Text

Olivia was just putting in her earrings – the final touch to an outfit she had probably spent far too long contemplating – when she heard a distant squeal from Joy and the hustle of a commotion.

She was rushing, barefoot, through the kitchen even as her brain registered that the squeal had not sounded distressed, and what she could hear now was the little girl giggling.

She stopped short, just beyond the living room door, taking in the scene before her, where Kieran was lying on the floor while Seamus tickled him, and Joy was finding the whole thing hilarious. A rather sheepish looking Kathleen and Lizzie lurked nearby, with Noah, who was smirking at her.

“The babysitters arrived,” Noah informed her, needlessly.

“I… can see that,” Liv remarked, surveying the mayhem once more; the three extra people she had not been expecting.

“Sorry,” Lizzie offered. “They wanted to see Joy —”

“Auntie Joy!” Kieran screeched as his torment continued, Joy herself echoing her own name with delight and joining in to tickle him – or at least pat him – with her little hand.

Olivia felt her eyes widen at his use of that moniker and they darted, automatically, to the boy’s actual aunts. Lizzie was biting her lip, cautiously, but Kathleen looked far too amused.

“Seamus had a school project about his family tree,” Lizzie explained, after glancing at Kathleen who clearly had no intention of speaking, “Had to figure out where she fit in.”

“Auntie Joy and Uncle Noah…” Seamus declared, proudly, without breaking from his assault on Kieran.

“No!” Joy contributed.

“… Anna said Joy could not be my aunt because she’s younger than me… but I had the tree to prove it.”

“And Uncle Joey is younger than mom,” Kieran added.

Olivia was looking at them, listening to them, but her brain had stalled at the fact that Seamus had put Joy and Noah in his project. His family tree project. And no one else seemed at all phased by it.

“I think I like it,” Noah declared, with a grin that Olivia distantly registered.

“We’ll not stay long,” Lizzie said, “I’ll take them home in time for Katie to get Joy to bed.”

Olivia glanced up from watching the kids play – watching Joy with her nephews – managing to have heard a touch of concern in Lizzie’s voice. Kathleen still looked amused, but Lizzie seemed apprehensive, no doubt because Olivia had failed to look anything but shocked since they arrived.

“It’s fine,” Olivia assured her, smiling at her, genuinely, despite the panic running through her head, the surreality of the whole situation. “Stay as long as they like. Joy will let you know when she’s too tired for socialising.” With that she shot an innocent smile at Kathleen, who grinned back at her.

“Oh I’ve heard the stories. She can’t be any worse than Lizzie and Dickie when they were her age —”

“Hey!”

“— I don’t think I slept for months.”

Olivia watched Noah’s ears perk up at that and she wondered if Kathleen was truly recounting an exaggerated tale from her youth or if Elliot had mentioned their unsettled nights.

“It was Dickie,” Lizzie clarified, defending herself.

“It was both of you,” Kathleen countered.

“I was an angel.”

Kathleen scoffed, “Yeah when you cried it sounded like a whole troupe of hell’s angels had arrived.”

Noah was chuckling listening to the sisters bicker; the boys and Joy had located her blocks and had started on a tower, much quieter than their previous activity but still chattering away to each other. The sense of normality that swept through Olivia was almost overwhelming. This must have been what it was like in Elliot’s house – both when he was a child, growing up with his numerous siblings, and when he and Kathy were raising their own kids. This was what he was used to. What she had never known.

And what her future now looked like.

She felt a little dizzy.

“Well, as you guys have this all covered,” she said, raising her voice a little to be heard over the multiple conversations, “I’m gonna finish getting ready.”

There were nods and murmured agreement and Olivia had just reached the kitchen door when Seamus said, “‘Bye Grandma Liv.”

She froze, turning back to look at Seamus who was grinning at her, a mischievous gleam in his eye that was very familiar.

“We told him not to —” Kathleen began, the smirk completely gone now, but Olivia shook it off.

“It’s fine…” She looked pointedly – but smiling – at Seamus and raised one eyebrow. “I’m sure you meant Captain Liv.”

“I told you,” Kieran muttered beside him.

“Yes, Captain Liv,” Seamus agreed, entirely unperturbed and still sporting his Elliot-grin.

“Cap’ Liv!” Joy declared.

“No,” Kieran laughed, “She’s Mama Liv to you.”

Olivia’s heart thumped. She hadn’t encouraged Joy to use that title for her. For all she had begun to think of Joy as her daughter, it was always with the anxious footnote that it could be temporary. She had insisted that everyone still refer to her as Olivia, or Liv, to the girl. She wanted to discuss it with Cassie, to know what she wanted her daughter to call Olivia, but as she still refused to allow Olivia to visit, that conversation hadn’t happened yet. And she wanted to do it in person; she didn’t want to go through Trevor.

But they were four months in and, given Joy’s propensity to echo words it was probably going to happen any day now anyway, especially as Noah, obviously, still referred to her as ‘mom’. And was it realistic to expect young children to understand the complexities of this family dynamic? To the boys it was that straightforward: Olivia was Joy’s mom.

And their grandmother.

She needed to be alone for a minute.

“Your dad said he shouldn’t be long,” she said as she pushed open the kitchen door, choosing not to address what Kieran had just said, “I’ll be ten minutes, tops.”

She crossed the kitchen quickly, closing her bedroom door behind her and resting her back against it. She just needed a moment. A few deep breaths to calm all the thoughts racing around her mind. Thoughts of Cassie and Kathy and how she had gone from a family of two to thirteen in what seemed like the blink of an eye. And how it didn’t seem quite as complicated or terrifying to anybody else.

Elliot had assured her that his talk with his kids – when he had told them that he and Olivia were together – had gone smoothly. They had discussed whether or not Olivia should be there too, but she had insisted they have the opportunity to be honest about how they felt, and they were unlikely to do that with her right there in front of them. So he had told them, on his own, and they had been expecting it, he said; they had, after all, already asked him his intentions weeks earlier. He had promised that even Eli had said he understood, that he didn’t expect his dad to be alone forever. But Olivia had never really believed it. Knew it couldn’t really be that simple; there would be road bumps, perhaps detours, as they learned to merge their families; this was new, to all of them.

Kathleen had called her the next day, reassured her that they were okay with it; that they were happy for them. Then told Elliot she would babysit ASAP when she realised he and Olivia had never actually managed to have a proper date yet. (She had given him grief for that, apparently, scolded him for not having asked for the favour earlier; was placated, a little, by his explanation that spending time with Joy and Noah was important right then).

The date would be tonight. And tomorrow was due to be the first time they would all be together since the announcement: A family lunch for Elliot’s birthday; Eli was in town. Olivia wasn’t sure which she was more nervous about.

She pushed away from the door, needing to move, needing to calm down before she sweated through the dress that she had finally managed to settle on. She headed for the full length mirror by her bed to check all was still well, straightened the fabric at her hips, adjusted the straps to sit more centrally on her shoulders. Stopped; staring at her reflection.

Moving just her eyes, she trailed from her bare feet – she really must retrieve her shoes – up to the hem that sat just above her knees; taking in the subtle detail of the scattered embroidery of red flowers against the black base; followed the slightly flared skirt, wrapped and tied at her waist; over the fitted bodice, dipped in a V at her neck – lower than her usual attire, but not too low given that she had known that both Noah and Kathleen would see her on her way out. She paused when she reached the compass, sitting comfortably against the exposed skin.

She smiled at the new meanings some of the letters had taken on since he gave it to her. Joy – he had definitely had no idea how significant that would become. Love… He still hadn’t said it. But she could feel it. He didn’t need to voice it, he was showing her. He was proving to her that this could – would – work. And she was determined to believe him.

She shifted her eyes from the pendant to meet her own gaze in the mirror.

This was happening – had been happening now for a couple of months; had been common knowledge to their children and families and squads and HR for three weeks and the world had not imploded. She had not imploded; Noah had not objected; Joy had started to settle down – she wanted to believe that was due to more and more of her teeth being through now, but she knew full well the little one adored Elliot.

This was happening. And maybe it still terrified her; and maybe she still had moments like minutes ago in her living room – overwhelmed and disbelieving; and maybe there were days when she had to keep reminding herself that this was reality.

But this was happening. And that was okay.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, closing her eyes as she addressed it to the woman who should be watching her grandsons play; who should be dressing up to celebrate Elliot’s birthday. Olivia had never wanted this. Had accepted decades ago that Elliot was not hers, never would be hers. Had expected him always to be that missed opportunity; that possibility in a parallel universe. This was never supposed to be.

But that didn’t mean that it shouldn’t, or couldn’t. Now.

She opened her eyes again, making a silent promise to Kathy that she would get this right; she would take care of them all for her. Her children; her grandchildren. Her husband.

As if on cue, she recognised the soft knock on the bedroom door. “Come in,” she called, turning away from the mirror and moving to get her shoes from the bottom of her closet.

“Hey,” Elliot said, sounding a little tentative, as he joined her in the room.

“Hey,” she smiled up at him, as she slipped her right foot into one black stiletto, then the left.

When she straightened up, fixing her dress again, she found Elliot staring at her, a soft smile on his face.

“What?” she asked, feeling a fluttering mixture of self-conscious and flirtatious.

He shook his head, slowly. “I spent years seeing you dress up like this for idiots who didn’t deserve you… Now I’m that idiot.”

She moved towards him, patting him gently on his chest as she stepped into him. “I wouldn’t say you don’t deserve me.”

His right eyebrow quirked as he slipped a hand across her cheek, and into her hair, his thumb brushing softly against her skin. His other hand settled on her waist, that thumb hooking over the belt of her dress. “But you’re not disputing the idiot part?”

“Depends on your next move.”

“You look amazing,” he whispered, pulling her closer and kissing her, thoroughly. Not one of those idiots had ever made her feel like this with just a kiss.

“Happy birthday,” she whispered when it ended.

“It is,” he grinned.

“How was your day?”

“It wasn’t bad; so that’s good. How was yours?”

She nodded. “Good. I managed to get away before four.”

“Wow!”

“Yeah. It was nice to be able to let Marco go early for a change instead of asking him to stay late. Joy and I picked Noah up from school… It was nice.”

Elliot’s lips had curved into a smirk while she was speaking and she narrowed her eyes at him, knowing what he was thinking. “Don’t,” she warned.

He pulled her closer but ignored her warning. “It was normal,” he whispered with that same mischievous grin that his grandson had sported earlier.

“Shut up.”

He kissed her again, so he did follow that advice.

When they parted, they were both smiling, but Elliot schooled his into a more serious expression. “Listen, I’m sorry about Lizzie and the boys, I didn’t know they —”

“It’s fine. They wanted to see Joy and Noah —”

“They’ll see them tomorrow.”

“You’ll see me tomorrow, yet here you are.”

“Not the same. There’s no way I was going to pass up the chance to finally take you on a kid-free date.”

“It’s your birthday, so isn’t it me taking you on a kid-free date?”

“Either way… But I’ll talk to them about asking your permission first before arriving en masse.”

“Don’t worry about it.” From the look on even Kathleen’s face when Seamus called her Grandma, she doubted they would surprise her again.

If Elliot knew what had been said, he didn’t mention it, and she didn’t want to get into that conversation right then, nor to give him more reason to scold the girls, so she kept quiet.

“I should go and talk Kathleen through Joy’s routine,” she said, instead, “Then we can head out.”

He nodded. “I’ll go and assure Lizzie that, yes, you are very angry and she absolutely should not have brought the b—”

“Don’t you dare,” she laughed, pulling away to head for the door. “They’re welcome here any time.”

“You might regret saying that,” he warned, his tone serious but his eyes sparkling when she glanced back over her shoulder.

“I won’t,” she promised, and she was determined to keep it.

… …

“Hey, what’s going on?”

Olivia snapped out of her thoughts, looking at Elliot across the small space of the elevator, realising that she was aware he had been speaking, but she had not heard a word he had said. Her mind had been back in her apartment, back in her kitchen, reliving a moment that had managed to outdo Seamus and his ‘grandma’ by miles.

“… Did Kathleen say something? You’ve been… distant since the two of you were in the kitchen.”

She stared at him, her thoughts back upstairs again, in the middle of explaining where Joy’s milk was, what time she would have some…

“Olivia…” Kathleen had interrupted her. “About what Seamus said —”

“Oh he’s definitely got his grandfather’s —”

“Maureen called me,” she had deftly ignored the deflection, “when he was doing the project and he asked where to put Noah and Joy. He’d figured out the grandma part himself; asked Mo if that’s what he should call you.”

“That —… that must have been difficult, I’m —”

“We told him not to, not because of how it might affect us… but because we knew how you would feel.”

She had not meant ‘old’.

“Liv…” Elliot prompted her back to him.

“They’re really okay with this,” she told him, voicing the realisation that had been echoing in her head.

“They are,” he said, simply, as if it really were that easy. “I mean, the Joy part, they find a bit… weird, but don’t we all?” He grinned at her then, a smile at once reassuring, teasing and confident.

She huffed her agreement with that. Four months in and she still awoke some mornings surprised to find a crib in her room.

Elliot moved closer to her and she just stood still and watched him, settling her hands on his biceps when he slid his round to her lower back and encouraged her to move in.

“They’re okay with this,” he reiterated, his voice low and soft and dancing across her lips as he leaned in, “Noah’s okay with this… Joy told me she’s absolutely ecstatic about this —”

She laughed but fought the instinct to duck her head away bashfully. Instead, she let herself get lost in the blue depths of his eyes; let herself be held tighter, closer. Let herself accept what he was offering. Let herself take what she wanted, because she could; because this was her life now.

“It’s good that it’s you…”

That’s what Kathleen had said that had stunned her.

“It’s best that it’s you… Because you’ll remember her as much as we do.”

She slid her hands over his shoulders, up his neck, stroked her thumbs over his jaw as their lips met. Melted into him just as the movement stopped, and the elevator pinged their arrival on the first floor.

His lips curved into a smile against hers. “To be continued,” he murmured, stepping back and casting his gaze from her eyes to her toes and back again.

He offered her his hand and she accepted as they walked into the foyer, Jorge bidding them a good evening as they passed the desk.

On the sidewalk she stopped him before he hailed a cab, pulling him back to her with their joined hands.

“Okay?” he asked.

“Eli’s out tonight, you said?”

He nodded.

“And your mom is —”

“— still at Maureen’s,” he finished with her.

“You got your heart set on dinner?”

… …

Olivia was barely through the door – it still open beside her – when Elliot had her pressed against the wall, his hands sliding from her hips to her ass, pulling her close even as he stepped into her.

“It takes way too long to get here,” his lips murmured against the skin of her neck before kissing and nuzzling his way to her ear, while his hands caressed and squeezed, and it occurred to Olivia it would take no time at all to get her there.

“You were the one who chose to live in Queens,” she reminded him. Best he understand the wait was all his own fault. Never mind that she had kept him at arm’s length for months, then adopted a child who had to share her room.

“You’re worth the wait,” he whispered roughly, directly into her ear, and all sorts of parts of her melted.

“Mmm,” she hummed as his kisses and ministrations continued, “You don’t know that yet.”

She was startled by the speed with which he pulled his head back so he could meet her eyes, looking darkly, intensely and oh so adoringly at her. “I do,” he told her, tenderly. Then he kissed her the same way. Slowly, sweetly, none of the urgent ferocity of merely seconds ago. And while he did, he reached out and a moment later the door clicked closed.

His hand returned, but to her hip rather than her ass, his fingers still caressing, his touch still sending shivers through her; still sparking tremors of anticipation.

“Whoa! Okay!”

“Eli!” Olivia breathed in shock at the interruption, trying to push Elliot away, but he wouldn’t go far.

The young man had averted his eyes but waved vaguely in their direction as he spoke. “Look, I know you guys are gonna… do that, but do I have to see it?”

“No!” she told him, emphatically apologetic.

But, at the same time, Elliot had replied, “Yes!” And when she looked at him, wide-eyed and aghast, he just shrugged before turning back to his son.

“I thought you were going out,” he remarked.

Eli risked a glance over his shoulder and must have accepted it was all right to turn around. “I thought you were going to dinner first; I only arranged to go out later.”

“Arranged?” Liv raised an eyebrow at Elliot. And ‘first’. Had he demanded Eli leave so they could… do this?

“Arranged?” Elliot asked Eli, as if he knew nothing.

“Kathleen told me to make myself scarce.”

A laugh escaped Olivia but she wasn’t sure if it was amusement or mortification. A little of both, she decided.

“I can go to Dan’s early,” Eli continued, walking back into his room, “Just give me ten minutes.”

Elliot offered Olivia a smile that quite clearly said, ‘There we go. Sorted.’ and she rolled her eyes at him before pointedly pushing him back a step and inclining her head in the direction of his son.

Rolling his own eyes, he slipped off his jacket as he called – reluctantly, she could tell – to Eli, “You don’t have to do that.”

He hung up his jacket then reached out to take hers.

“Oh, I do!” Eli called back.

“We’re gonna order some take out.” He stopped beside Eli’s bedroom door, and Olivia continued on past him to the living room. “You have time.”

“Don’t make this more awkward,” she heard Eli reply. “I’ll be out of here in nine minutes.”

“Okay but don’t feel you have to.”

“I do have to.”

“We can keep our hands off each other for as long as you’re here.”

“Dad!”

Olivia would have returned to drag Elliot away before he made the situation a million times worse, but the sight she had come upon in the living room had her frozen in place.

When she felt him come up behind her, she continued to stare in shock as she asked, “Elliot… What on Earth…?”, gesturing to the mountain of boxes piled in the corner of the room.

“Just some things I picked up for when Joy stays over.”

She looked at him with her wide eyes. “Some things? Was there anything in the store you didn’t buy?”

He shrugged, a little sheepishly, she thought, but still nonchalantly. “The sales assistants were very… attentive —”

She interpreted his smirk to mean that they had swooned over this sophisticated, good-looking charmer standing surrounded by new-fangled kid gear and wanting to get the very best for his little bundle of joy (pardon the pun).

“— and the more they suggested I might need; the more I believed them.”

“Do you even know what half of this stuff is?” she asked, looking at words on boxes, some of which meant nothing to her. Should she have a ‘wipe warmer’? Was she a bad mother if she didn’t?

“They’ll have instructions if they’re complicated. And Annabelle said I could call the store any time if I had any questions.”

She paused her perusal of the pile to face him with a raised eyebrow and a playful smirk. “Oh, she did?”

He grinned at her. “She did. As did Jerome, and Macy.”

“You had quite the shopping experience.”

He chuckled. “Yeah. I am under no illusions though that they all assumed I was shopping for grandchildren.”

She wondered if he had corrected them, briefly considered asking him, but her earlier panic – pressure – was trying to sneak back in and she didn’t want to push herself over the edge.

She turned back to the mountain. “Well it will be useful if more grandchildren come along. I mean, I assume it will. I have no idea what half this stuff is…”

He slipped his arms around her waist, nuzzling into her neck – apparently not able to keep his hands off her for the nine minutes Eli needed. “Joy enjoyed the xylophone when she was here.”

“I bet she did.” Noise did seem to be one of Joy’s favourite things.

“I was glad that store had not sold drums.”

She laughed. “You’d have bought them?”

“They were very persuasive… So, if you’re thinking of buying anything, just check with me first in case I have one.”

“Oh, I will,” she assured him as she turned in his arms, sliding her hand around his waist and looking up at him, the panic once again beating at her heart. “… You’re really okay with this,” she whispered, unable to stop a little of the amazement she still felt from creeping into her voice.

“I’m really ecstatic about this. Joy and I have that in common,” he grinned.

“You’ll be seventy-three when she graduates high school.” If Cassie let them keep her that long.

“Seems like a good age to retire.”

He was smiling as he said it, his eyes sparkling with mirth, but she knew he meant it. And the acceptance, the willingness to go through with that – to work as long as it would take to give Joy the best chance in life; to do whatever it would take to be with Olivia, was more than the control on her panic could subdue. It brought to mind that thought that still haunted her from time to time: This was how it had started - both times - with Kathy. Elliot’s sense of duty about his children… She didn’t want him to come to resent her, or Joy, when he just wanted a quiet weekend to himself in eight years’ time but he was running around after a nine year old that he couldn’t hand back to its parents at the end of the day.

Something of her thoughts must have shown on her face. “Liv?” he prompted, softly, brow creased in a small frown.

She shook her head. “Just thinking about chasing down perps at seventy,” she lied, with an exaggerated grimace.

“Plenty time yet to train up some young —”

“So much for keeping your hands off each other,” Eli muttered as he passed into the kitchen.

Olivia stepped out of Elliot’s arms. “Sorry, Eli… Listen, you really don’t have to go, we can —”

“It’s okay. I wasn’t going to be here much longer anyway.” He shoved some cans from the fridge into his backpack, smiled at Olivia, and headed back towards his room. He was two steps from the door when he stopped, turning slowly to look at them. “Will you —… Kathleen didn’t tell me to stay out all night —”

“No!” Olivia said, quickly, belatedly realising that she probably should have let Elliot respond to that.

“I mean I… You know, I — It’s just weird and I wasn’t —”

“Liv won’t be staying,” Elliot told him, and Olivia was relieved to hear that he was taking this more seriously than he had when Eli had interrupted them.

Eli glanced between the two of them, nervously, and nodded. “Okay…. Well I’ll probably be back by midnight. Don’t want to be too tired for lunch tomorrow, Kieran and Seamus are way too energetic.”

“Hmm,” Liv laughed in agreement.

“Have a good night,” Elliot said, grasping Eli’s shoulder, the two of them sharing a look of understanding and she watched Elliot read his son’s face for his true feelings on what was going on.

“You t—” Eli looked from Elliot to Olivia again. “Yeah. I will. See you later.”

Elliot pulled Eli into a quick hug, patting his back once, then the young man grabbed his jacket from his room, nodded a farewell to Olivia and left them alone.

“He’s okay,” Elliot assured her after watching him leave.

She nodded, observing him closely. “Are you?”

He laughed, almost humourlessly. “He’s right. It is weird.”

“For all of us.”

“We’ll get used to it.”

“That’s the plan,” she smiled. “We can still go to dinner ins—”

“No!” He responded as quickly to her as she had to Eli. “No,” he reiterated, making his way back into her personal space.

“You sure?”

“Never more so.”

“Okay, then.” She sidled up to him. “So, where were we?”

He allowed her lips to make contact with his, but he didn’t reciprocate when she tried to deepen the kiss. Instead, he trailed his hands up her arms, gliding across her shoulders and settling them on her neck, using his thumbs to gently move her back a little. “We’ll get to that,” he murmured. “Where were you?”

“What?”

“When we were talking about Joy.”

She frowned, pretending she didn’t know what he was referring to.

“You know full well you won’t be chasing down perps at seventy; they won’t let you… Liv, I know that you — worry about this. Tell me what you’re thinking. I could help.”

“It was n—”

“It wasn’t nothing. If it’s bothering you, let me help.”

She stared up at him, trying to order her thoughts, to explain in a way that sounded logical and rational.

“Was it the mountain of boxes?”

She let out a laugh. “Well… they were a surprise.” Another surprise in a line of them that evening.

“I should have taken you shopping with me.”

That sent a swoop of nerves through her abdomen; the picture of the two of them shopping for baby items.

He must have seen it. “Or not,” he frowned. “Liv, come on. What’s going on?”

She let out a small sigh and tried to step away but he held fast, soothingly stroking her cheeks; waiting, patiently.

“Sometimes I think that if it wasn’t for Joy we wouldn’t be here.”

His brow creased into a small frown.

“… This is your M.O.” she told him.

“What do —”

“Every time you’ve started a relationship, El, there’s been a child involved… You’ve never had the option to walk away.”

“Every time?” he echoed with a small smile. “You mean the other two times? With Kathy?”

“See, I’m not wrong.”

“I guess that’s one way of looking at it… But I never wanted to walk away, Liv. All right, maybe I committed sooner than I would have, but, once I did... Liv, it was never just about the kids… This isn’t about the kids.”

“But they complicate things, Elliot. It won’t be as easy to end this —”

“That would never be easy. And I have no intention of us ever needing to worry about that.”

“I know. And I’m trying to ignore it. If you recall, I wasn’t going to say this out loud.” She smirked up at him, reminding him that she had been quite content just shoving this aside for the greater good tonight. “Especially today...” She nestled closer. “When we’re supposed to be celebrating.”

His lips quirked into another smile; he was tempted, she could tell. But he held back when she tried, again, to kiss him.

“I do think you’re right about Joy, though…” he told her, quite earnestly.

She cast her mind back to what she had said, her eyes widening in horror despite it having been her observation in the first place.

“… Without Joy, I think, you wouldn’t be here yet… I think Joy made you face up to – what you thought was – the very real possibility of a future without me, and then Joy was a reason for me to be around more and — Yeah, maybe without that you wouldn’t have insisted I kiss you and we wouldn’t be here.”

“Wow,” she breathed, mainly because what he had said sounded exactly right. Would she be there if things hadn’t transpired as they had with Joy? “You’ve thought about that.”

“I’ve… wondered.”

“I want to be here,” she reassured him.

“I know you do.”

“And I know you do,” she promised. For all the doubts kept leaping into her mind, there was far more evidence that they were both exactly where they wanted to be, but that didn’t stop her worrying that a change in their situation might knock them off balance.

“But?”

“What if it doesn’t work out?”

He had been very patient about her worries, but she saw his jaw tighten as she repeated those words. Again.

“With Joy…” she quickly added.

His expression shifted to sympathy. “Hey,” he breathed, softly, holding her closer. “Whatever happens, I’m here.” He wouldn’t tell her that there was no possibility of Cassie changing her mind, because they both knew that wasn’t true. “Olivia, there was no Joy back in January; there was no —” He cut himself off, a haunted look passing over his features and she understood what he had been about to say; the other meaning it held in light of what had happened to Jamie Whelan.

There was no Joy in Ohio.

She placed her hand sympathetically on his chest, an unintentional echo of that moment in the hospital exam room.

“I want to be with you, Olivia,” he whispered solemnly. “If I get to watch you be a mother to Joy as well as Noah then that’s a bonus. And if — well, then I’ll be here… I’ll be here.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“You don’t need to thank me… But why didn’t you tell me this was worrying you?”

“Because most of the time it’s just at the back of my mind. But… you know, the boxes, and — And Kieran told Joy that she should call me ‘Mama’ earlier and —”

“Cassie still won’t see you so you can discuss that with her.”

She let out a soft sigh, part relief that she didn’t have to explain, part contentment that she didn’t have to explain; that he really was in this with her.

“I’m trying to take this a day at a time…” she told him, “Some days that’s easier than others. Today… was just a lot…” She nestled closer to him, flattening her hands against his back, she felt him draw a breath, hold it to constrain himself. “Not least because all day I’ve been thinking about tonight.”

“We don’t have to —”

“We do, Elliot. One evening with Joy, and Kathleen may never volunteer to babysit again.”

He laughed and she felt him relaxing again in her arms, but his voice was still serious, his eyes the same, as he said, quietly, “Liv, I know I’ve given you plenty of reason to doubt me —”

“I don’t doubt you, Elliot. Sometimes I doubt me… But I have no doubts about this.”

He returned her kiss this time, drawing her in, showing her, proving to her that he was there; he was with her; she was right to put her trust in him. He would never let her down again.

She was just melting into him, sparks firing everywhere he touched; her hands wandering towards his ass; just beginning to think that they were progressing past the subject of her fears, when he drew his lips away from hers and rested their foreheads together. “How do you feel about tomorrow?”

Damn his astuteness – and apparent infinite supply of patience tonight!

She tilted her head back so he could see the sparkle in her eyes as she told him, “Well, tomorrow I’ll have Fin on standby in case I need to be called into work...”

He laughed again, meeting her smile with one of his own.

“… But tonight, El, he is under strict instructions that I am not to be disturbed.”

His eyebrows rose, no doubt surprised that she would say that to Fin given the obvious conclusions to be drawn from such an instruction. “What did he say to that?”

She pitched her voice low to give her best impersonation of her sergeant and friend. “‘Now I’m the one disturbed.’”

As he chuckled again, Elliot tightened his arms around Olivia’s waist. “So, you’re sure about this?”

Rather than answering him, verbally, Olivia kissed him one more time, with clear intent. Then stepped out of his arms.

Heart racing, hands trembling, she loosened the knot in the belt of her dress, let it fall open, then she turned, incredibly coquettishly, toward his bedroom.

She had taken three steps when he stepped up behind her, stopping her with his arms around her waist, his lips at her shoulder.

“Liv…” he whispered, his voice soft but serious again, “in the interest of full disclosure, before we do this…”

She tried to turn but he held fast, so instead she rested her hands, comfortingly, on his, wondering what the hell he was about to tell her now.

“… Lizzie told me that Seamus called you Grandma.”

Ah.

“Right.” He still seemed not to want her to turn around, didn’t relinquish his hold, so she tilted her head, pressing her cheek against his. “How did you feel about that?” she asked him, quietly, heart racing now for an entirely different reason.

“Terrified of how you might have felt about that.”

“I’m here,” she reminded him, interlocking her fingers with his.

He kissed her cheek, once, twice. “How did you feel?” His lips against her skin as he asked.

“Worried about what they felt about it …. Kathleen assured me I don’t need to worry.”

“I knew she’d said something,” he murmured.

“Full disclosure?”

“Please.”

He let her turn around this time, slid his hands beneath her open dress as she stepped in close, his touch cool against the small of her back. Intimate. The closest they had ever been. A shiver ran through her as she settled her hands on his arms, felt the strength of him beneath her touch. A physical sign of a strength that ran much deeper; that had survived so much.

“She said it’s good that it’s me,” she recounted, her voice wavering, her eyes watering; and she watched Elliot’s do the same; saw his jaw clench and relax, watched him control his reaction. For all he had confidently assured her, multiple times, that his children were accepting of their relationship, she suspected that he had moments of disbelief and surreality just as she did. She knew it could not be easy to adjust to knowing that forty years of love, marriage, life were over. He had to miss it; to miss Kathy; to wake some days forgetting, for a blissful moment, that it had all been taken away. To be moving on, and to know his children were supporting that for him, had to be just as jarring for him as all of it was for her. She would not have expected him to have forgotten (she would never expect that), nor for him to have forgiven himself for the blame he shouldered (she would help him to work on that), but she was convinced now of his commitment to her. She just had to work on getting herself to believe that someone loved her like that; that someone intended to stay. She would get there.

She lifted her hand and cupped his cheek, stroking her thumb gently, slowly, over his smooth skin. “Let’s just see what happens, El: With what Joy’ll call me and what the boys will call me.”

He nodded in her hold, turned his face into her hand to kiss her palm, then he asked her, quietly, but with no small amount of hopeful surprise, “You’d be open to being called Grandma?”

“Not by Joy,” she smiled and he laughed with her, the air lightening, both of them back here in the moment, moving forward.

“No…” He kissed her palm again. “But by the boys?”

“Let’s see what happens…,” she repeated, “But, it is what I’ll be, isn’t it?” She pushed up and kissed him, slowly, softly, then unmistakably seductively. “… When this works out.”

Dropping back, her hands glided down his arms so she could take his hands in hers. And she took him with her, this time, as she moved towards the bedroom.

Chapter Text

Olivia stirred at the gentle shaking of the arm that rested across her stomach. As her eyes blinked open, a recogniseable and welcome voice softly murmured, “Hey.”

She smiled at him before cringing slightly when straightening up her head caused a pain in her neck.

She had specifically instructed herself not to fall asleep on his couch, but clearly reading had not been sufficient to keep her awake as the hour grew late. Despite her circling thoughts prompted by her trip to the McCanns’, and the ever present worry whenever Elliot was out on an op, the book had clearly managed to calm her mind too well.

Dropping said abandoned tome to the cushion beside her, she sleepily replied, “Hey…”

He leaned forward and gently kissed her lips and she raised her hand to capture his cheek and prolong it a little.

“… Everything go okay?” She asked, stroking her thumb across the rough stubble on his jaw, trying to focus her blurry eyes so she could check him for visible injuries.

“Yeah. Yeah, everyone’s in custody.” He kissed her again, then scooted back an inch and perched on the edge of the coffee table. She let her hand drop back to her lap.

“Good. And you’re all —”

“We’re all fine,” he assured her. “You didn’t have to wait up for me.”

“I wanted to.”

He studied her for a moment, his smile shifting into a smirk. She was just starting to feel self-conscious and wondering if she had creases or drool patches on her from her impromptu nap when he remarked, “… And it felt weird putting yourself to bed without me here?”

She laughed, lightly, at both the scenario and his ability to read her. It had felt strange to put herself to bed in his room without him, when she had never spent the night here with him.

“That too,” she admitted.

He leaned in again, running his hands along the outside of her thighs. “I appreciate you still coming over.”

She smiled, taking his hands in hers. “We’ve been looking forward to it.”

“Joy go down okay?”

“She did. Couldn’t keep her awake in the car, but a few symphonies on the xylophone tired her out again when we got in.”

His amused, but sheepish, smile suggested he picked up the veiled accusation that he was to blame for the noise she and his neighbours had endured. “The drive to Woodstock and back was okay?”

“Just the usual Friday night traffic…” she said, then moved them on quickly, not wanting to think right then about the McCanns. There were things she needed to process and tonight she just wanted to focus on being here with him: Alone, with a bedroom to themselves, for the first time since his birthday. She shuffled herself forward, leaning in for another kiss. “Time for bed?”

“Mmm,” he hummed, kissing her back. “I need a quick shower first.”

“Okay.”

He pulled his head back and fixed sparkling eyes on her. “… Or a longer shower, if you’re awake enough?”

She laughed. “… It’s not really about whether I’m awake enough now, it’s whether I’ll be awake enough in —” She looked at her watch, her eyes widening at how late (early!) it was, “— four hours when Joy wakes up.”

“Fair enough,” he accepted, kissing her again before moving to pull back. She caught him before he could go very far.

“That wasn’t a no.”

His lips curved slowly into an elated smile. “We can sleep in shifts tomorrow,” he suggested.

“So much for spending the day together,” she pouted, standing up and holding out a hand to him.

He enclosed her fingers in his, picking up the baby monitor from the table beside him as he stood up, “I thought the idea was to spend the night together.”

“Hmm.” She led him toward the bathroom. “Only after one thing.”

“Yeah…” he agreed, turning her to face him and sliding his hand round to the small of her back to pull her close. “You…” he insisted, sincerely, the intensity of the adoration in his eyes making her heart skip, “In whatever capacity I can have you.”

“Careful what you wish for,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “Tomorrow you get me on less than four hours sleep.”

“Nothing I haven’t experienced before. I can handle that.”

“We’ll see,” she murmured before their lips met again.

“Besides,” he murmured against her, while backing her towards the hall, “you’re beautiful and strong no matter how much sleep you get.”

“Sweet talker,” she murmured back.

“Truth speaker.”

Conversation ceased once she was pressed up against the wall beside the bathroom door. He kissed her, thoroughly, and she reciprocated in kind. She slid her hands down his back, pulling his shirt free from his jeans. His right hand slipped down to her ass, squeezing and caressing; (his left hand still held the monitor and was no use at all).

She reached across to open the door, trying not to break their kiss, but Elliot pulled his head back anyway.

“Let me just say good night to Joy.”

That stopped her in her tracks. Her eyes widened, her mind calculating the risk of Joy being awoken by Elliot entering the room.

“I won’t wake her —” Her skepticism must have shown on her face, because he laughed. “I won’t,” he reiterated, “I promise.”

“On your head be it if —”

He leaned into her, kissing her softly and lingeringly. “I won’t wake her,” he echoed, “I’ve been looking forward to tonight… But I missed both of you.”

“She missed you too.”

“Yeah?” He appeared genuinely surprised and Olivia wondered if he really couldn’t see how much Joy adored him.

“Yeah. She kept looking around for you.”

“She’s only ever been here with me.” He gave her another peck on the lips then stepped towards Eli’s room. “Sixty seconds, tops. You can watch me not wake her, if you want.”

If it wasn’t for the fact that she too had been looking forward to tonight, she would have hoped that he did wake Joy, just to wipe the confident smirk from his face. But, instead of wishing that upon them all, she chose to watch as he crept towards Joy’s crib.

She couldn’t see Joy in the faint light filtering into the room from the hall, and she couldn’t see Elliot’s face, but still she had to steady herself against the doorframe to combat the now-familiar wave of emotion that surged through her as he leaned over the side ever so carefully, kissing his fingers before touching them softly to Joy’s cheek.

“Sleep tight, Joy of my life,” he whispered, so softly that Joy didn’t stir at all and Olivia barely heard the words. But she did hear them, and they did send a tremor through her heart and by the time he turned and made his way back towards her, she could physically feel her love for him coursing through her veins. It was still overwhelming; it was still terrifying, but she was still determined that she would not let that stop her this time.

She stepped out of the doorway as he approached and he pulled the door closed, carefully, behind him. “See, still sound asleep.”

She could have said it then; told him that she loved him; the words were on the tip of her tongue, but there was still something stopping her from voicing them.

His eyes met hers, though, and his lips curled into a satisfied smile. He knew. She didn’t have to say it. He knew. So, instead, she took his face in her hands and she kissed him, then she led him to the shower, and showed him.

… … …

“… he ate through one apple, but he was still hungr—”

“Good morning.”

Joy’s hand slammed down onto the book Olivia was reading from, as she let out a high pitched squeal at the sound of Elliot’s voice. The edge of the book thankfully missed Joy’s cereal bowl, narrowly avoiding a mess on the tray of her high chair.

“Yes, he’s home,” Olivia told her as Joy beamed, excitedly. The girl was no longer paying any attention to Olivia, though, her little eyes fixed on Elliot as he crossed the room.

Olivia deposited the book on the kitchen island and let her own eyes also follow Elliot’s progress, unable (and not wishing) to stop herself from smiling at the similar look of delight on Elliot’s face. Her heart flipped at how domestic this felt, the word ‘home’, and the situation sparking an increasingly familiar bizarre mixture of feeling unsettled and entirely content.

Joy attempted to offer Elliot a spoonful of cereal as he approached, undeterred by the first three attempts dropping from the spoon to the tray. He distracted her from the fourth try, stroking his finger across her cheek and leaning in to kiss the top of her head as he moved behind her chair. “Good morning, Beautiful,” he said against her hair and Joy squealed again.

Olivia was moving (partly to settle her pounding heart) for a cloth to clean up the slopped milk and food but Elliot intercepted her, stroking her cheek the same way he had Joy’s, but planting this kiss to Olivia’s lips.

“You should have woken me,” he remarked as they parted.

“Joy’s shouting down the monitor didn’t wake you; you needed the sleep.”

“I was looking forward to waking up with you.”

“Well… if we get an early night tonight, there’s always tomorrow —.”

His eyes said all that he didn’t voice about his thoughts regarding that plan.

“— That kind of early night,” she added, “will not be conducive to not being tired.”

“I’m willing to chance it,” he said, stepping up against her and initiating another kiss. This one lingered, and he nudged her backward until she was resting against the island.

“Eww!”

They startled apart at Joy’s exclamation (maybe they had momentarily forgotten where they were), looking at her to see what had prompted it.

The little one was looking up at them with a frown. “Eww,” she repeated, eyeing them sternly, her gaze dancing back and forth between them.

“Noah!” Elliot muttered while Olivia laughed.

“No!” Joy echoed.

“I’d thought we were safe from that judgement this weekend,” Elliot continued.

“He’s trained her well.”

“No?” Joy repeated, looking around now for the boy in question.

“Noah’s at Connor’s,” Olivia reminded her.

Joy tilted her head, looking like she was considering that information. “Con.”

“Yes, Connor’s.”

“Yeah, well, she can be untrained,” Elliot insisted, drawing Olivia back into his embrace. “She – they - need to get used to seeing us smooching.”

And he kissed her.

“Eww!”

Olivia chuckled but it was muffled against his lips as he refused to be interrupted.

“Eww!” Joy repeated, her hand grabbing at Olivia’s arm as well, this time.

Olivia broke the kiss, to check that Joy was in fact only exclaiming about the kissing. The reprimanding look was so reminiscent of the glare Noah would send them for public displays of affection. It was adorable.

“Or, maybe we learn to resist each other,” she suggested, not meaning it at all.

“Never gonna happen,” Elliot insisted, punctuating it with another kiss.

“Eww!”

“We should at least not get her too agitated before we go out,” Olivia suggested, stepping away, to placate Joy and to grab that cloth. “Do you still want to head down to the river? It’s forecast rain now.”

“Yeah. It won’t rain.” He perched on the stool Olivia had been sitting on earlier, and he encouraged Joy to finish her breakfast. “We can check out the market,” he told Joy, “ and go to the park… It’ll be nice,” he added, his tone addressing Olivia again, “… Normal,” he teased.

She shot him a glare as she wiped the tray, but the thought occurred to her that it didn’t get much more normal than this.

… … …

They started at the park, assuming that the running and climbing and swinging – and the general excitement – would use up enough energy for Joy to be docile as they perused the market afterwards. However, if anything, Olivia and Elliot ended up more tired than Joy was and, despite all the exercise, Joy was adamant that she didn’t need to be in the stroller and would walk everywhere.

And so it was that the walk to the market took significantly longer than it could have done, Joy toddling along between them, arms up to hold their hands, alternating between watching her feet shuffle along the path and fixating on any dog that passed them. The latter involved her planting her feet as soon as she spotted the creature, and turning in place to watch until it was out of sight. A little dachshund particularly enthralled her, and she giggled and babbled away about it long after it had gone, though neither of the adults had any idea what she was saying.

It was – as Elliot had said it would be – normal. To anyone who saw them, they probably looked like any other couple, out with their granddaughter (Olivia was under no illusions that anyone would assume Joy to be her daughter). And she tried her best to focus on the fact that it was nice, it was calm, it was a rare opportunity to be out with Elliot, in public. Most of their relationship was still conducted in an evening, with the kids, between work and dance classes and homework and bedtime stories. And that was easier for her – that was normal for her – being busy, being focussed on others, very little headspace to process the changes, to think about her own feelings. It suited her to let life carry on and not think too much on where it was going, on what might change next.

Maybe that’s why Ginny’s invitations had been so jarring – a jolt back to a reality she had not so much been ignoring, but rather just not acknowledging. Maybe that was why, every time she thought about the fact that she hadn’t yet discussed it with Elliot, she felt the need to push it to the back of her mind. She knew it shouldn’t be the big deal that she was making it out to be. But it was. To her. And she wasn’t ready to let it interrupt her peaceful day out. So, when they were swinging Joy between them and she was screeching with unrestrained glee, the niggling thoughts were resolutely repressed. She could deal with it another time, another day if she wanted to. That was a skill she had perfected by now.

Walking lasted all of two minutes once they reached the market, because a Joy who was standing on the ground was a Joy who could not see anything on the stalls. She pulled her hand from Olivia’s grasp so she could wave it impatiently at Elliot as she demanded, “Up!”

“Please,” Olivia reminded her.

Joy tilted her head – knowing, it seemed, that that made her look even more adorable and even more difficult to deny – and, still waving her arms, said, “Peas. Up.”

Elliot obliged (of course) and she proceeded to give him an arm workout trying to keep steady hold of her as she leaned away from him to get a closer look at items on the stalls, or as she twisted and turned – and, on one occasion, tried to climb over his shoulder – to continue her dog watching.

Olivia doubted that Elliot took in much of what was on offer from the first half of the market, but couldn’t bring herself to be too concerned about that when he looked like he was in his absolute element wrestling with Joy’s wriggling. He teased her and tickled her and whispered things to her that made her laugh hysterically, and, really, he only had himself to blame for the fact that she wouldn’t keep still.

It was good for him, Olivia often thought, watching Elliot with Joy. After everything he had been through, the literal joy that the little girl brought him was a long-deserved salve for his soul.

“You could probably get something for Ginny from here.”

Olivia startled out of her wandering thoughts at Elliot’s comment, finding him smirking at her, inclining his head in the direction of a wooden carving of the words Live, Laugh, Love.

She laughed, meeting his amused eyes with a gleam of her own. Wow, that moment in her office seemed a long time ago.

“I’m gonna go change Joy’s diaper,” he said next, completely breaking this moment.

“Oh, I can —”

“I got it,” he assured her as he grabbed Joy’s bag from the stroller. “You’ll be here?”

“Or hereabouts,” she agreed.

“Won’t be long.”

He kissed her, slowly, ignoring the “Eww!” that Joy threw at them, and the tiny hand that she tried to insert between their lips. Laughing, he then kissed Joy’s cheek sloppily in punishment, and carried her away in a peal of giggles.

Olivia watched them go with a dreamy smile, then her gaze returned to the carving, her mind returning to her office six months ago. When it began to consider just how much had changed (again) since then, she quickly redirected her eyes to see what else the stall had to offer. Elliot was right, there was probably something there that Ginny would like.

Each piece was beautiful, carved by hand from varying shades of wood. There was one of three intertwined snowflakes that she made a mental note was a serious contender for the gift, and she continued to peruse.

‘Family is love’ stopped her short, hurtling her back to her kitchen in January, to Elliot’s, “You’re family.”; to Matt McCann’s “We’re family” last Christmas; to her bedroom on Joy’s birthday and Elliot’s reference to “our family”; through the years she spent wanting nothing more than family, of any kind. Look at her now.

Before her emotions overwhelmed her in public, she moved her gaze on, only to stop short again on the word, ‘Home’. Associated, since she had admitted it out loud, with Elliot. And – since Joy, since becoming more – starting to be synonymous with him again.

“Any luck?” His voice startled her once more, announcing his return.

“Er, yes. Maybe,” she said, showing him the carving of the snowflakes.

“I think she’ll like that. Do you want to get it n—”. He stopped abruptly when they were suddenly splattered with large drops of rain.

“Oh, hood up,” Olivia said to Joy as she pulled the little hood over her head, smoothing her hair back so it was all covered.

“Hood up,” Joy repeated. “Hood up,” she said again as she watched Olivia put her own hood up. “Hood up,” she then told Elliot.

Olivia raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Yes, Elliot —”

“Dad!” Joy squealed (she had done it for so long now they hardly noticed it anymore).

“— hood up.”

Elliot narrowed his eyes. Because Elliot didn’t have a hood. Because Elliot had insisted that it would not rain so he didn’t need to bring his raincoat.

“Hood up,” Joy echoed.

“I have my hat,” he assured them both, indicating his rapidly soaking beanie.

“Hood up!” Joy insisted. She tried to look at Elliot’s collar, to find his hood, but only ended up turning her head within her own coat. She made several attempts to get a different outcome before becoming frustrated and shoving her hood off and out of her way.

Olivia nudged Elliot to move under what limited shelter there was in front of the stall (she had been content until then, while she and Joy were dressed for rain, to allow Elliot to suffer) and tried to persuade Joy to let her put her hood back up.

“Hood up!” Joy was still insisting – though it did not apply to her own which she batted away every time Olivia tried to reinstate it – and she was scrambling with both arms to find Elliot’s non-existent hood.

“We’ll take the snowflakes,” Elliot told the stall keeper, ignoring the battle of wills going on beside him, the child clambering up his chest and the blame being glared in his direction.

“He doesn’t have one, Honey,” Olivia said, more for the purpose of venting her own frustration than explaining to her one-year-old, “because he knows the weather better than the professionals.”

His purchase completed, Elliot finally met Olivia’s gloating gaze.

“You want to wait here til it stops?” she asked him, knowing that was not a realistic option.

“You’re welcome to,” the woman at the stall told them, “but it’s forecast to do this for the rest of the day.”

Olivia raised an “I told you so” eyebrow.

Joy, now distracted by the bag Elliot was holding in his other hand, allowed him to pop her hood back up, prompting Olivia to narrow her eyes as he grinned at her, victoriously. “The diner where Joy and I used the restroom is not far and it looked good. Let’s grab lunch.”

… … …

Olivia could feel Elliot watching her, later, his eyes on the side of her face as she bathed Joy in the little tub he had bought to use in his shower (one of the more useful items from his haul from the baby store). To begin with, he had been watching Joy play in the water, but for the last few minutes, she had been conscious of his eyes on her; his thoughts having clearly distracted him. She waited, to let him share them in his own time; reluctant to prod if in fact he was distracted wondering what had had her distracted so many times while they were out. He could not have missed how many times he startled her from her musings.

“This was a good idea,” he commented, eventually, and she wasn’t sure exactly what he was referring to.

Nevertheless, she glanced at him with a smile and agreed, “It was.”

Because it was. Whether he meant buying the bath tub, or arranging for Olivia and Joy to stay at his place while Noah was away, or venturing out together for the day, or bathing Joy before she reached the grumpy, unco-operative level of tiredness, it had been a good idea.

He didn’t expand on what exactly he had intended with his remark, just smiled back at her, looking rather pleased with himself – which didn’t narrow it down because each of the possibilities had been his idea.

Olivia looked back to Joy, the little girl still fully engrossed in filling a plastic teacup with bath water and then pouring it back out. She giggled disproportionately every time the water splashed back into the tub with her.

“What time are you wanting to set off tomorrow?” he asked, a moment later, shuffling himself into a different position beside the shower. She was slightly delighted to see that his old knees were protesting as much as hers were, despite his higher level of fitness.

She ran a sponge over Joy’s back and neck, hoping to get much of her clean while she was distracted. “I thought I’d give Joy lunch first, maybe head out about one. But we can go back to my place any time before that if you —”

“Do you need to go back to your place?”

“No. No I brought everything we need but we don’t want to be in your way if you’ve got —”

“Am I not going with you?”

His question caused her to freeze in cleaning Joy – only briefly, before she realised it had happened and forced herself back into action. “To Woodstock?”

“Yeah.”

She chanced another glance at him but knew it was risky to meet his gaze. “I, er, I thought you’d have stuff you want to do with your Sunday.”

“Yeah, I do: Spend it with you and Joy.”

“On a five hour road trip?”

“Yes… I was hoping to go with you on Friday but then I got stuck at work.”

He had never told her of that intention. “I hadn’t realised that.”

“I knew it was a long shot that I’d make it… Liv…” His hand closed gently around her arm, stilling the sponge again and encouraging her to look at him. “I want to spend time with you, and Joy, and Noah. What am I gonna do here on my own?”

“Read; relax; have some peace; maybe see one of your other — one of your kids.”

His lips curved into a wicked smirk at her slip up and, brave as Olivia Benson was in many ways, she was not courageous enough to keep looking at him after that.

She resumed cleaning Joy, gaining small squeaks of displeasure now that the sponge was interfering with the pouring of the water.

Thankfully Elliot didn’t push her on her comment. “I could do one, or more, of those things,” he agreed, “But I’d much rather go with you.”

Joy flung the next cupful of water at Olivia in protest against her attempts to wash the girl’s face. Elliot grabbed a towel and wiped Olivia’s cheek as she was telling him, “Just don’t feel that you have to —”

He paused, the soft cotton still against her skin, and his eyes fixed firmly on her profile. “What’s going on? You trying to keep me away from the McCanns?”

She tried not to look guilty as charged and quickly swiped the sponge over Joy’s face, dodging the squirms and screeched objections. “Why would I do that?”

“Exactly…” He gave her cheek one last pat and withdrew the towel, using it to dry Joy’s face and then to distract her with a brief game of peek-a-boo. “Have you not told them about us?”

“Like, formally?” Olivia frowned, watching Joy completely forget that she had even had something to cry about. “Should I have?”

“Interesting.”

“What? Why is that interesting? Noah has definitely told them about us, so why —”

“So they’ve said something?” he asked, lowering the towel to his lap and handing the teacup back to Joy. “I was only there about forty-five minutes, they can’t possibly not like me.”

“You were there forty-five minutes?”

“Give or take. Don’t try to change the subject. Do they not like me?”

She shot him a look; he sounded like a worried high schooler. “They like you just fine.”

He narrowed his eyes. “But?”

“There’s no but.”

“They disapprove?”

“No.”

“They think you can do better?”

“If they do, they haven’t said so.”

“You told them I … ‘improved’ that Christmas gift?”

“No,” she laughed, filled with warmth and still a little rush of nerves, remembering that moment in her office again. She never would have believed back then that she would be here now: Sitting on Elliot’s bathroom floor while the two of them bathed her daughter in a little tub in his shower, at the start of an evening that would see Olivia sleeping in Elliot’s bed. And not just sleeping. For the second night in a row.

“Then what’s going on?” Elliot asked, softly, drawing her out of her thoughts.

Olivia knelt up to lift Joy out of the water; Elliot automatically preparing a towel to receive her. He wrapped Joy in the terrycloth then in his arms and leaned back against the wall, clearly not planning to leave the room until he had an answer. Joy settled against him, staring at Olivia as if she too wanted to know what was going on.

With a sigh, Olivia adjusted to sit opposite them, resting her back against the cabinet, finally stretching her legs out in front of her.

“Ginny has invited us to visit, the weekend before Christmas,” she admitted. “She said she knows you have children and grandchildren you’ll want to spend the actual holiday with.” Noah certainly had told them about Elliot. Or maybe they had got that out of the man himself in those forty-five minutes.

“I see.” She knew that he knew there was more to it than that.

“… She, er, invited Noah to stay with them, Saturday night. But also, she’s invited us to stay in their guest room… You and me and Joy,” she clarified in case she had not made it clear that the invitation included him.

Elliot raised an eyebrow in that way he had when he was wondering what she thought of something. “What did you say?”

“I said I’d let her know.”

“You’re leaning towards no?”

“Maybe.”

“Talk it through,” he prompted.

“Well, for one, I’ve never felt massively comfortable staying over in other people’s homes. And that was when they were college friends or boyfriends and not —”

“God tier normal?” Elliot offered.

She laughed at the description but, “Yeah.”

Elliot nodded. “They’ll understand. We can always get a motel nearby. You know a good one, right?”

His smirk went some way to relaxing her, but the ease with which he seemed to have accepted that they would go had intensified the anxiety in her gut. “You… want to go?”

“I’m happy to go, if you want to. Which, I sense, is point two?”

“Two,” Joy echoed, sleepily.

Olivia smiled at her, using the opportunity to take a moment to decide how to explain herself to Elliot.

“Do you… not think it sounds a little… coupley?”

“Coupley?” Elliot repeated.

“Cup,” Joy murmured.

“Yeah. Them and us and dinner.” She was doing a terrible job of explaining herself.

“Cup,” Joy suddenly repeated, pushing herself up with a little hand against Elliot’s chest and gesturing towards the bathtub. “Cup!”

Olivia persuaded her legs to bend again so she could reach into the tub and retrieve Joy’s teacup. She received a toothy grin in thanks; those tiny teeth that had been so much trouble.

“Admittedly,” Elliot said, “It does sound like something couples sometimes do…” He observed her for a second before adding, astutely, “Or something families do.”

Olivia shrugged, self-consciously. “Exactly.”

“They are family, Liv.”

“I know.”

“But it’s new,” he stated, understandingly.

“So much is new.”

“It is,” he agreed. “… But —” He cut himself off, seemingly reconsidering what he had been about to say.

“But?” she prompted.

“… The other new stuff —” He made a vague gesture towards Joy, then himself, then the room. “— it’s not been too bad has it?”

She couldn’t help but smile, the level of understatement in that question warming her heart. “No. No it hasn’t been too bad.”

Elliot shrugged. “So, maybe, more new won’t be so bad either.”

He was right. She knew he was right. She knew she was capable of coping with this and with anything else ‘new’ that the future had in store for. There had just been so much, seemingly non-stop, lately, and it could be overwhelming if she let it. “It would probably make things a lot easier with Joy,” she remarked, rather than letting it. “She said the room has its own bath; there’d be the kitchen and the yard.”

“We only have to worry about her keeping us and them awake crying, not multiple complete strangers,” Elliot grinned.

“I warned her about the crying. She just said it’ll be lovely to have us there.”

“She may not invite us again,” he smirked.

“I highly doubt that. They absolutely dote on Joy when she’s there.”

“Who can blame them?”

Looking at the girl in question, her head resting on Elliot’s chest, the teacup clutched tightly in a small hand, her sleepy eyes fixed on Olivia but due to droop closed at any moment, no one could blame them.

She kept her eyes on Joy for a little longer while she let her head accept what they had just discussed. Elliot was right – about it being something that families do. And despite any trepidation she might feel about their other invitation – the one she still hadn’t mentioned to Elliot – the McCanns had given her no reason to think that they weren’t in this for the long haul. They weren’t going anywhere. They were family now; Olivia could learn to act like it.

She flicked her eyes up to meet Elliot’s, well aware, again, that he had been watching her. “You really want to go?”

“I really will take any excuse to spend time with you.”

She playfully rolled her eyes at his corniness, secretly both warmed and mildly panicked, still, by that concept. It was the warmth she was getting better at focusing on.

“We’ll have to – er, Noah’s never known us to share a room.”

“We have some time to get him used to the idea.”

She nodded, more to assure herself than to agree with him. It lasted a few seconds longer than it needed to as her thoughts drifted. “Eventually this having a relationship around a teenager stuff will cease to be awkward, right?”

Elliot just laughed, which didn’t fill her with confidence.

… …

The aroma of whatever Elliot was cooking hit her full force when she opened the door from Eli’s room, prompting her stomach to rumble immediately. She hadn’t realised she was so hungry.

He was standing in front of the stove, stirring something in a saucepan but he angled towards her when he heard the door.

“She okay?”

“Just four stories needed tonight,” she smiled, “You’d have thought today would have worn her out. God help me when she can run around independently, I’m not going to be able to keep up with her.”

“That’s what Noah’s for,” Elliot grinned, looking back at the food.

She stepped up behind him, slipping her hands around his waist, flattening them against the muscled plane of his abdomen as she rested her head against his back. “I could get used to this,” she thought, before belatedly realising she had actually murmured it out loud.

“I’ll cook for you any time,” he reminded her and she loved him a little more for not pushing her on what she had actually meant.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and it could have been for the offer to cook. They both knew it wasn’t.

When she allowed herself to think too deeply about it, she wondered how long he would last like this; for how long he would put up with her not voicing her true feelings.

But tonight she was not allowing herself to think too deeply about that. Tonight, she had enough to think about, and for all she wanted to avoid it, she also wanted him to know, she wanted his advice. She wanted to open up to him.

And it might be easier to be vulnerable while his back was to her and he was occupied with dinner.

“The invitation to stay wasn’t the only invite Ginny and Matt extended,” she admitted.

He smoothed one hand over hers. He didn’t attempt to turn around. “Go on.”

“They asked if Noah might like to go on vacation with them. They’re going to California at spring break – Hollywood; Disneyland then up to San Francisco.”

“He would love that.”

“That’s what I said.”

“He’d be reluctant to go without you.”

She laughed at that, part surprise, part relief. Though she had hoped Noah would struggle with the decision on account of not wanting to be away from her for so long, she had not fully believed that he wouldn’t just leap at the chance to vacation with the McCanns.

Elliot tapped the spoon on the side of the pan, adjusted the heat and then he did turn, popping the spoon on the side as he did so. “You don’t think that?” he asked her, gently.

“No, I do. I —”

“You think you can’t compete.”

“I think two weeks in the sun with his brother, or at home with a toddler who periodically cries all night and a mom he sees every couple of days.”

“I guarantee that isn’t how Noah sees it...” He brushed some stray hairs away from her face, she suspected just for the excuse to touch her while he gazed at her.

Sometimes she wondered how long that would last too: The adoration; the admiration; the pure love in his eyes when he looked at her. And then she would remember that there had never been a time in their acquaintance when he hadn’t looked at her that way. Even when he was angry at her; even when they were arguing. Even when he shouldn’t have.

“…You and that crying toddler are his home. It won’t be so easy for him to go.”

She smiled, gratefully, at him. “Does it make me a bad mom to be kinda pleased to hear that?”

He laughed and wrapped his arms around her. “No… He ever been away for that long before?”

“No…” Now they were getting to the crux of it. It wasn’t so much that she thought she couldn’t be apart from Noah for that long… “I know I need to let him go —”

He nodded, understandingly. “But the two of you have not had a great experience with the family members you’ve found before.”

This smile was sad, her heart tightening at the thought of everyone they had lost, everything that could have been – good and terrifying. “I know the McCanns aren’t Sheila, El… I know that.” She took a shaky breath. “But I also know I’m going to have to — … let them in.” And therein lay the real problem. How could she allow herself and Ginny and Matt to spend time together, to try to be the family Matt had already said they were, when they knew nothing of her past, and very little about how she spent her days, and to share any of it with them would taint their wholesome existence? How could she do that to them? But how could they be family if she continued to keep everything to herself?

“And you’re worried about how far?”

“You’ve seen their world… How can I tell them anything of mine?”

“Well, first of all, you don’t have to tell them anything unless you want to. They know what your job is, and how long you’ve been doing it, they’ve probably seen you on TV. I doubt they’re gonna take offence at there being things you don’t want to talk about…”

She had tried to tell herself that, so it was comforting, again, to hear him echo her own thoughts.

“… But, second of all – actually, even more importantly, you’re selling yourself short. You are about justice and healing and speaking out for survivors and striving to make the world better. Your world is about love, Liv. You can tell them that. They’ll already have noticed.”

Tears prickled behind her eyes as she looked up at him, her heart swelling with gratitude, her mind almost settling with his reassurance. She was almost getting used to believing him. To accepting that when he complimented her, or when he was proud of her – or when he looked like he absolutely adored her – it was because he did. Because he wanted this. Her. And she deserved it.

She deserved all of it: the suddenly huge family network; Noah, Joy, Elliot, love, normality.

“You’d better check on that sauce,” she told him, becoming aware of the sound of bubbling.

He recognised the deflection for what it was, but smiled nonetheless, pressing his lips tenderly to her forehead before moving to turn away.

She stopped him before he had gone far at all. “Thank you,” she told him, intimately.

“Any time,” he promised.

Then he did turn back to the food, and Olivia collected cutlery and wine glasses and set them out on the kitchen island. And as they moved around each other in the synchronicity they had perfected years ago, she thought, again – to herself this time – that she really could get used to it. And instead of fear, she found it brought a trill of anticipation that was not at all unpleasant.

So when she greets him with, “Morning, Elliot,” the next day, it’s quite deliberate – despite the fact that they do manage to wake up together, so him joining her and Joy in the kitchen is not the first time she sees him.

No, she says it so that Joy will beam at him with her programmed, “Dad!” and Elliot will stumble a little at the domesticity, and she herself will feel that ripple of anticipation again.

It will never feel right. She will always believe that this opportunity should never have been hers, theirs.

But it is definitely starting to feel like home.

Chapter Text

It was one of those times – that, thankfully, were relatively few and far between – that Olivia’s body decided to remind her not only of her age but of the multiple injuries she had sustained in the last twelve months. She had started to run again last month, sometimes alone, sometimes with Elliot, but her hip was still not a fan, and if she pushed too far her back twinged with echoes of January’s attack. She was making progress, but not yet at the level of physical fitness that her current pursuit required.

But, there she was, and with no choice but to continue —

“I’m two minutes out.” Velasco’s voice through her phone. It was three minutes the last time he checked in but that sixty seconds seemed a heck of a lot longer than he had calculated it to have been.

— she was pushing through the shooting pain in her hip and she was ignoring the ache in her lower back and she was managing to keep their suspect in sight ahead of her. In fact, she would go so far as to say that she was gaining on him – not bad given he was at least 30 years her junior. But any time someone else wanted to intercept him, she would take the help.

Whether he heard the car approaching, or he could hear Velasco’s updates across the short distance, he clearly realised he was close to capture and turned, suddenly, into a narrow alley on his right.

“Behind the Ackman building,” she snapped into her phone to update Velasco as she followed. “Cut him off at the other end.”

The alley widened at the other end onto steps she knew led into a courtyard. If she had known this guy needed to be a suspect, she could have had more cars in the area. As it was, she had thought she was just going to ask him a few questions for some background information; she had assumed it would be fine to make a start on that before Velasco joined her. She had not anticipated this escapade. Later, she could wonder if she should have. Right then, she just had to run.

She had descended merely three steps when someone hit her bodily from her left, driving her towards the low wall beside her and tumbling over it with her.

It wasn’t their suspect, she knew that much, because she had still had him in sight. And that was her last thought before she hit the ground – six feet down on the other side of the wall – and everything went black.

… … …

Elliot’s voice was quiet when she became aware of it; the gentle, soft tone familiar and soothing, and she lingered a little in her half awake state to just let the warmth of the sound seep into her drowsy bones.

After a minute or so his actual words registered and her lips curved into a smile. “Are you reading me a children’s book, Detective?”

Her eyes shot open when the response was not the simple answer from Elliot that she had expected, but rather a chorus of “Mom!” and an unintelligible – but recognisable – squeal.

Noah was straight to her side, his fingers fidgeting nervously along the edge of the bed, while, behind him, Elliot picked up Joy from his lap and stood to join them, dropping the book to the vacated chair.

She noticed they were – no doubt intentionally – on her uninjured side, so she squeezed Noah’s hand to reassure him and she tweaked Joy’s foot. “You didn’t all need to come,” she remarked, her tone light for the children, but a reprimand in there for Elliot for bringing them to the hospital. Although, she could admit to herself that it was a comfort to see them all.

“They insisted,” Elliot shrugged and though he smiled at her she could see the worry in his eyes.

“I refused to stay at home,” Noah backed him up, a defiant look on his face as if he was challenging her to rebuke him for it. “And Joy insisted on going with me.”

“No!” Joy shouted, pushing at Noah’s shoulder. “No!” She was waving her arms towards the bed, trying to push Noah out of her way, so Elliot moved closer.

“I’m fine, Honey,” Olivia assured Noah, disliking the fear she could see in her son’s eyes. She had never wanted to see that again. “Just need a little operation on my foot.”

Joy was leaning away from Elliot, trying to get at the bed; he was trying his best to keep hold of her but she wouldn’t stop wriggling.

“And your arm?” Noah asked, almost accusatorily, nodding his head in the direction of said limb, the edge of its bandage just visible above the blanket that covered it.

“My elbow’s sprained, and bruised, but nothing broken… El, you can put her on the bed.” Joy was determinedly fighting Elliot’s hold, pushing now at his chest, babbling away at him, sternly but not in any particularly discernible words.

“Did they get the guys who attacked you?” Noah asked.

“It was one guy,” she corrected, not wanting him to worry that this was an echo of BX9, or that there may be people still out there waiting to try again. “Velasco got him and the guy I was chasing. There’s no one else involved.”

She held Noah’s gaze until sure he had taken that in then she looked back to Elliot to find out why he was still battling with Joy.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” he asked in response to her unspoken question.

“If she’s careful.”

He narrowed his eyes; of course a one year old was not going to be careful of injuries she wasn’t old enough to understand.

Olivia smiled at him, grateful for his concern but not about to let a little potential pain stop her from having Joy close. And besides, the wriggling and protesting was distracting, and somewhat annoying, in her tired state. “Put her down.”

As he did so, Elliot warned Joy that she had to be gentle; that she was not to climb on Olivia. Joy looked up at him as if she was listening, glancing at Olivia whenever he said her name. Then the second he released her, she scrambled up the bed and was narrowly prevented from throwing herself across Olivia’s chest by Noah’s quick movements. Her squeak of objection morphed into tinkling laughter when Noah began to tickle her and Olivia joined in, choosing to focus on that rather than the ‘I told you so’ look that Elliot had fixed on her.

Only, it wasn’t so much the ‘I told you so’ that she wanted to avoid, it was the level of concern that accompanied it. Much as she had never wanted to see Noah scared for her life again, she had never wanted to see the haunted pain in Elliot’s eyes; had never wanted to put him in this position, to remind him of losing Kathy. And this was the second time this year that he had had to see Olivia in a hospital.

“What have you guys been up to today?” she asked Noah and Joy to change the subject.

…

Elliot seemed to relax, marginally, as they talked about other things. There was still a tension to his eyes, but perhaps seeing her talking and laughing with the children was reassuring him a little.

He watched her, closely, the entire visit, though, his gaze only straying from her if it was redirected to check what Joy was doing. So he didn’t miss it when she started to tire, and when the pain meds were easing off and her movements became restrained so as to avoid jerking the more painful injuries.

“Time for us to go,” he declared of his own accord at such a time, sweeping Joy from the bed so he could get her into her coat. The little girl was starting to tire as well, so she went without protest.

Noah glanced at Elliot, almost panicked, and Olivia’s guilt multiplied. She squeezed Noah’s hand again, drawing his eyes back to her. “I should be home tomorrow night,” she reassured him. “By the time you’ve been to school and dance it’ll be a —”

“I’m not going to school —”

“You are, Honey. I’m fine, and it’ll keep you busy.”

“I can keep busy here —”

“I’ll be in surgery and then asleep for several hours. Noah, I’m fine. No one needs to be here.”

“I bet Elliot will be.”

Ignoring Joy’s automatic, ‘Dad’, and knowing she was about to prompt it again, Olivia insisted, “No one, Noah. Elliot will be at work, as planned.” She injected a pointed tone to ensure that Elliot understood that she meant it.

“I’ll stay with you guys tonight,” Elliot explained, “Get you off to school in the morning, then I’ll make sure I’m out of work to pick up your Mom.”

Noah still looked like he wanted to argue, but he knew by now when he was not going to get his own way.

“Okay?” Olivia prompted to ensure they had his agreement.

“Fine.”

“Fine fine, or teenager fine?”

Noah narrowed his eyes, but his lips did curve into a tiny smile. He leaned over the bed and carefully hugged Olivia, kissing her gently on the cheek.

“See you tomorrow,” he said.

He dropped back and offered to take Joy from Elliot so he could say goodbye, and Olivia’s heart stuttered.

Joy went to Noah willingly, instantly starting to play with the curls around his face.

Elliot stepped up to the bed, taking hold of Olivia’s hand, leaning in to press his lips lingeringly to her forehead, then her cheek. Then he whispered into her ear, “The things you’ll do to get out of staying with the McCanns.” She managed a small laugh, but she could feel his breath trembling. He moved to her lips and gave her a long kiss, before dropping back and meeting her eyes. He was trying, again, to conceal his worry, but she knew it was there.

“I’ll be home tomorrow,” she promised. “By the time you’ve been to work…”

He narrowed his eyes, showing now how unimpressed he was that she had given him the same directions as Noah for tomorrow. She knew full well that he had had every intention of being by her side all day. But she couldn’t allow that without troubling Noah. She was fine. They needed to go on as normal.

“You’ve given them my number?” he checked, and she supposed they never had discussed him being her emergency contact now.

“I have. They’ll call when I’m out of surgery. And they’ll call when I’m ready to go home.”

He nodded.

“You’re okay to stay with the kids? You can ask —”

“I’ve got them.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course,” he said, kissing her one more time. “Okay… Everyone ready?”

“I just need my coat,” Noah replied, handing Joy back to Elliot, and disentangling her hand from his hair.

Olivia felt tears stinging at her eyes as she watched the three of them prepare to leave. She still found it hard to believe, sometimes, that they were here; that any of them were in her life, let alone all three of them.

Her disbelief was cut short when the door opened before any of them had reached it and Amanda stuck her head in. “Am I interrupting?” she asked.

“No, no. We were just leaving,” Elliot assured her.

Amanda held the door for them and they filed out with final goodbyes and waves and a lingering look from Elliot.

“You okay?” her friend asked when the door was closed behind them and Olivia knew that she had spotted the tears that were now gathered along her lower eyelids.

Olivia nodded. “Happy tears.”

“You sure?”

“Yes,” she insisted, but she ceased the accompanying nodding when it hurt too much. Then in a rare moment of honest vulnerability (rare without the involvement of boxed wine), she shared, “… I just wish my happiness didn’t always come at a cost to someone else.”

“Liv…”

She shrugged, offering a self-deprecating smile. “Somebody else’s husband; somebody else’s —”

“No!” Amanda stopped her, emphatically. “No. This is your pain meds talking, probably your concussion too…”

Olivia was inclined to agree. She had been getting much better at pushing such thoughts aside.

“… Yes, you never would have chosen for them to come into your family the way any of them did. If you could have prevented all of those circumstances, you would have. But it was out of your hands, Liv. You didn’t orchestrate this. But they are yours now. They are your family and you – all of you – deserve this happiness that you’re finding together.”

Olivia looked at her for a little while, then took as deep a breath as she could. “I know… I know.”

“I know you know,” Amanda smiled.

Olivia gestured for Amanda to pull up the chair that Elliot had been sitting in earlier. The book, it turned out, had been left behind. Amanda smiled at it before putting it on the bedside table.

“How you feeling?” she asked while shedding her coat and settling herself into the chair.

“… Terrified.”

Amanda’s eyes widened in concern.

“Good terrified.”

And Amanda frowned.

“Oh, you were asking about my injuries.”

“I was, but if you’d prefer to talk about —”

“I’m fine. They need to operate on my ankle so I’ll be on crutches for a while, but, otherwise, mainly bruises.”

“Good…” Amanda didn’t say anything else but Olivia knew when she was being read, studied for any sign that she was hiding the truth.

“Really,” she promised.

“Good… Well, while I have you and no one can call you away…”

Olivia quirked an eyebrow.

“… There is something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Yes. A full night’s sleep would be nice some time soon but, yes, I’m ok. We’re all okay… I wanted to ask you — Carisi and I wanted to ask, if you will be Nicky’s godmother.”

Olivia’s immediate reflex to raise her right hand to her chest reminded her that her arm was out of action, so – after a grimace and deep breath for the shot of pain – she settled for a watery smile and a tilt of her head. “I would be delighted, Amanda.”

Amanda nodded, smiling.

“— Don’t I need to be Catholic, though?”

Amanda shrugged, “We’ll make it work. Carisi’s cousin will be godfather and he’s practising… But, also, we thought we’d ask Stabler.”

Olivia felt her eyes widen, but couldn’t identify why she was so surprised. The connection suggested by the offer, she supposed; the closeness that had obviously developed in a relatively short space of time.

“Is that okay?”

“Of course.”

“Do you think he’ll accept?”

“I can’t speak for him but —”

“Ha, you absolutely can.”

She frowned at that response.

“Liv, you might be terrified, but you are in this relationship. And you’re thriving… You know exactly what he’ll say, and he would be happy for you to speak on his behalf.”

What she was saying sounded true, but it still made her feel uncomfortable. That was the kind of relationship Elliot had had with Kathy. Decades together forged that kind of connection and bond. Not four months.

“Well, I won’t speak for him,” she amended, unwilling to share that thought with Amanda, not least because she expected to have it pointed out to her that her relationship with Elliot did span decades, and she knew full well it was that history that was moving things along quite rapidly now. “… but I’m sure he’ll be honoured that you thought of him.”

… … …

The knock at the door later that night was quiet, so she knew it wasn’t one of the staff. When it opened, tentatively, that also confirmed her conclusion, as did Elliot peering cautiously through, obviously not wanting to disturb her if she was asleep.

“Hey,” she smiled, gesturing for him to come in. “You didn’t have to come back.”

“I did,” he said, solemnly, and her heart broke again for how many memories this must be stirring up for him. The fear he had valiantly tried to hide for the children earlier was still evident in the tension around his eyes and in his jaw.

He busied himself taking off his coat and arranging it neatly over the back of the chair, something clearly on his mind.

“Kathleen’s with the kids. They were both asleep when I left. Won’t know I’m gone.”

Olivia nodded. She hadn’t needed to know that; she trusted he would have made suitable arrangements and not left Noah alone to babysit Joy.

He pulled the chair close to the bed, so he could hold her hand as he sat on the edge of the seat.

She extricated her hand and lifted it to stroke, soothingly, over the worry lines on his brow. “I’m okay, El. I’ll be home tomorrow.” It wouldn’t be enough, she knew. Despite her injuries, no one had expected Kathy to die; bodies took turns; damage could lurk unseen. He wouldn’t believe that she was okay until she was home and back to her usual routine. Even then, maybe he would always just be waiting for something to happen.

“I passed McGrath in the parking lot,” he told her, and she accepted his change of subject. “Everything okay?”

She feigned surprise. “Oh, did you?”

“He wasn’t here to see you?”

“I may have been asleep when he stopped by.”

Elliot’s lips curved into a smile that she was pleased to see lifted some of the tension. “I see. Just woke in the last few minutes, did you?”

“What good timing you have,” she grinned, innocently.

After a brief silence of just gazing at each other, Olivia could see the darkness returning to Elliot’s thoughts so prompted him to tell her how the kids had been when he took them home and that distracted him for a while longer.

But when the stories of the pizza he used to keep Noah on side, and Joy’s prolonged bedtime, were over, they drifted into another silence, by the end of which Elliot’s mind was clearly elsewhere.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.”

He shook his head, not unkindly, and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

“El… Tell me,” she encouraged, gently. “If you’re thinking about Kathy, it’s okay. It’s understandable.”

“It’s not that,” he said, but she recognised the anguished look in his eyes, the twitch of discomfort in his jaw; knew he wasn’t being honest. “Not just that,” he clarified. “But we don’t need to —”

“Elliot, this is how this works,” she reminded him, recalling his words to her back in September. “One of us feels a little crap, we open up to the other about it, and we work through it together.” She squeezed his hand. “Tell me,” she whispered.

He regarded her for a moment, his fingers stroking her palm – it was nice but she wasn’t convinced that he even knew he was doing it.

She waited – she had nowhere to be, after all – giving him time to work out how to voice whatever was on his mind. She meant what she had said about Kathy – how could he not be thinking about her in this situation? She had spent a lot of time thinking about her.

When he eventually spoke, his voice was low but strong. “Liv, I realised today, if I’d lost you, I’d have lost… all of you.”

As his meaning sunk in, she realised it should have occurred to her earlier. “You have no legal standing with the kids.”

“We don’t need to discuss it now, but —”

“No, no. I’ll speak to Trevor, ask him to speak to Cassie.” She was respecting the young woman’s ongoing wishes not to see Olivia, but life was moving forward and she couldn’t afford to put her questions on hold.

“Are you sure?”

“Are you sure?”

“Liv, this is it, for me. You and the kids… I —” He cut himself off from saying he loved her, she knew. “They mean the world to me. I know you probably already have arrangements for if something happens, but, now that we’re doing this, I would like to be —”

“I would too. I just hadn’t thought about it.”

“Neither had I.”

“We’ll sort it out. I’ll speak to Trevor in the morning.”

“Only if you’re sure.”

“I am.”

He nodded. “I’m sorry to —”

“You were right to.” He looked slightly less burdened now. At least she had been able to alleviate one of his fears. “Get up here,” she instructed.

His eyebrows flicked upwards. “On the bed?”

“If you’re careful.” She deliberately echoed her words from earlier.

“I think it’s frowned upon.”

“I think they let you in here after visiting hours and haven’t come to kick you out.”

Despite his protests, he was shedding his boots and climbing onto the bed as she spoke.

He settled on his side, careful not to jostle her and she watched him take a moment before deciding that placing his arm across her abdomen might hurt, so instead he took hold of the hand that rested beside him, bending his other arm under his head.

“You good?” he whispered.

She inched her head closer to him, not wanting to try moving the rest of her, though she longed for the warmth of him. Resting her temple against his elbow, she smiled. “Much better now.”

“Don’t let me fall asleep.”

“Oh, I intend to let you,” she told him, closing her eyes.

She felt him shift, then his lips pressed gently to her head. “You’re quite the rebel,” he murmured.

“Shh,” she instructed, “Sleep time.”

“Yes, Captain.”

She smiled again, squeezing his hand, and hoped the deep breath she took before her next words was not obvious. She hadn’t wanted to say it under these circumstances but there was no way she was going to let the day end without him hearing it from her. Like his rights with the children, it was something else that shouldn’t be put off.

“I love you.”

His lips pressed, lingeringly, against her temple again. “I know you do,” he assured her, softly.

“And I know you do, El. I appreciate —”

“Shh,” he echoed, “Sleep time.”

“You’ll stay?”

“Until they kick me out.”

“Okay… I love you.”

“I love you.”

In the end he was asleep before she was, her mind busy replaying the day’s events until she forced it to focus not on the incident, but on tonight. On the conversation that had preceded the slumber party. Her agreement to give him legal rights for Noah and Joy. She felt sure that it should scare her more than it did.

They would be legally tied to each other, through the kids, while not in other ways.

He hadn’t even mentioned marriage but she fell asleep wondering what she would have said if he had.

Chapter Text

It was difficult not to make comparisons; not to flashback to that day so many years ago now when she and Chantal had taken a very young Noah to see his mom. To see Ellie. To watch the young woman’s eyes light up at the sight of him; to remember the churning in her gut, the conflicting longing to take care of him herself but gratification to see a mother reunited with her son. It was impossible not to fast forward to all that followed: Ellie’s hope that she would get Noah back; the call from the halfway house; the body; the courtroom; the children’s home. She didn’t remember now how long it took to believe that it was really happening; that they were really going to let her keep him; that she really was a mother, she really had a family. But she did remember – again, now, as she waited in the family visiting room with an impatient Joy on her lap – the devastating fear of thinking she might lose him to Sheila; the debilitating suffocation of thinking he was gone. She had been trying very hard not to permit her thoughts to go down those paths; trying to remind herself that Cassie had given no indication that she intended to change the arrangement; that her agreeing to see them, finally, was a positive step. It would be good for Joy; it would be good for Cassie. Its effect on Olivia really shouldn’t be a factor.

Joy squirmed against her hold and Olivia realised she had been clutching her a little tighter than necessary.

“Down!” Joy insisted, repeatedly, and Olivia could hardly blame her. The room was awash with colourful tempting toys and she had been cooped up in the car for an hour – why would she want to be confined to Olivia’s knee being clung to as if their lives were about to change? Again.

Olivia put her down and watched her head straight for a box of toys. She began muttering about cheese (it was an obsession she had recently, mysteriously developed, although she didn’t appear to be interested in actually eating the stuff) and started pulling the toys out one by one and discarding them as if she knew specifically what she was looking for. When she didn’t find it, she moved onto another box and repeated the process. When that box was also empty and she still hadn’t located whatever it was that she wanted, she looked, briefly, at all the toys now strewn across the floor, then climbed inside the box, sat down, and started giggling maniacally.

Olivia couldn’t help but laugh with her, heart warmed by her innocence, comforted that despite the circumstances of her short life so far, Joy was happy. Olivia got to her feet, cautious of her ankle in its boot, forgoing the crutches she probably should still be using but chose to leave rested up against the table. She moved to put some of the toys away, conscious of not having the place in chaos when Trevor brought Cassie in.

“No!” Joy shouted as a toy truck went back into the other box.

“We have to tidy up a little,” Olivia explained, scooping up three dinosaurs.

“No!” Joy repeated, pulling herself to her feet in her box, and glaring at Olivia.

“You can get them back out when you want them.”

Olivia was just dropping a teddy bear and a Paw Patrol pup into the box when Joy stamped her feet, rattling the box she was standing in, and screamed at the top of her little voice, “Mom! No!”

Olivia froze – not only because she had never heard Joy so distressed, but because that was the first time Joy had ever referred to her as “Mom”. Okay, it had sounded more like two ‘mmm’ sounds with a brief ‘uh’ in between, but the intention was clear.

They stared at each other, Olivia’s heart racing, fluttering, trying to determine how to feel about the development and the highly inconvenient timing of it. She had been so steadfast in not allowing anyone to refer to her as mom, or mama, or mommy, to Joy – ostensibly until she knew Cassie’s wishes, but in actual fact as if it would somehow stop her from getting too attached. As if she wasn’t already completely in love. As if Joy wasn’t already her daughter in all but legalities. As if it wouldn’t break her heart if Cassie tried to take her away.

“No,” Joy repeated, quieter, but no less insistent, one lone tear creeping down her flushed cheek.

Olivia managed to sit on the floor in front of her, gently wiping away the moisture with her thumb. “It’s okay,” she soothed her, softly, knowing it was probably Olivia's own edginess that Joy had picked up on and absorbed. “It’s okay.”

Joy blinked damp eyes at her, placated now that Olivia had stopped putting toys away. “Box,” she said, bashing one hand onto the side of it as she spoke.

“That’s right,” Olivia praised, her voice quiet, still caught in the emotion of the moment, “You are in a box.”

Joy studied her for a second then leaned over the side of the box and picked up a block she had discarded there. “Boo,” she declared, proudly.

“Green,” Olivia corrected.

Joy looked at Olivia, then the block, then Olivia and repeated, “Boo,” with a twinkle of mischief that looked distinctly like Elliot.

And Olivia was far too enamoured to argue. That little word, “Mom”, echoing in her mind and her heart with the same impact as when Noah had first called her “Mama”. The adorable little face looking up at her, smiling at her now, mere seconds after her meltdown.

Olivia was still sitting on the floor, and Joy was still in the box, when the door opened and Cassie and Trevor walked in.

“Tev!” Joy declared excitedly as if she hadn’t just spent an hour in the car with him.

“Hi,” Trevor greeted her, with a warm smile, then Olivia watched Joy’s eyes shift towards Cassie, who had frozen in place just a few steps into the room, staring at Joy in what looked like awe.

Olivia smiled, encouragingly to Cassie, taking in how different she looked since she had last seen her – thinner, paler, her hair down to her shoulders now and clearly an attempt had been made to style it, she wore a little make up. She had obviously wanted to make an effort for Joy’s visit but Olivia could see the toll that prison was taking.

Olivia glanced between mother and daughter, wondering whether she needed to say anything, whether it was best to just let them take each other in like this; whether the months of showing Joy photos of Cassie and repeating ‘mama’ were going to pay off with even a hint of recognition on Joy’s part.

She didn’t realise that she was holding her breath until Joy turned to her and, pointing at Cassie, stated, “Mama.”

Breath rushing out of her on a smile, Olivia encouraged, “That’s right, that’s your mama.”

Joy looked back to Cassie then at Trevor. “Boo, Tev!” she told him, waving the block at him.

“She’s so grown up,” Cassie whispered, still staring at Joy in amazement.

Olivia decided a response to that was not required and tried to discreetly get up from the floor to remove herself from the scene while Cassie took it all in. Unfortunately, in her distraction and haste to comfort Joy, she had failed to consider how she would get back up.

Noticing her predicament, Trevor was soon at her side, offering his assistance, which effectively broke the moment that Olivia had been trying not to interrupt.

“Are you all right?” Cassie asked, looking ashamed that she hadn’t asked after Olivia’s health earlier.

Back on her feet – trying her best not to put weight on the recovering foot – Olivia lifted Joy out of the box, depositing her beside the array of toys. She received only a slight protest before the girl was distracted by a cuddly unicorn. Olivia limped over to the chair she had previously occupied, beside the table.

“… Trevor told me what happened,” Cassie continued as she too sat down, sitting where she could continually glance at Joy. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

Trevor took a seat on the other side of Cassie while Olivia shook off Cassie’s concern. “I’d fractured this ankle before. If it hadn’t been weakened this wouldn’t have been necessary.”

Irrationally, she didn’t want Cassie thinking about her attack or her injuries, or how easy it could be for Olivia to be gone from Joy’s life.

“It sounded like you were very lucky,” Cassie remarked.

In other circumstances Olivia may have tried to deflect this by quipping that she had been in far worse situations, but she definitely did not want Cassie to start pondering how frequently Olivia got attacked. The statistics for the last twelve months alone were not encouraging.

Searching for another subject to change to, Olivia opted not to update Cassie on Joy’s development or milestones, uncertain yet whether she wanted to know, whether hearing about all that she had missed would help or hurt. She would take Cassie’s lead on that, answer questions if she had them.

She did, however, see an opportunity to approach one of the things she had wanted to discuss with Cassie.

“Actually, I wanted to thank you for agreeing to —” she cut herself off from saying ‘Elliot’ with an anxious glance at Joy, “ — er, Detective Stabler —”

Cassie shook her head. “Yeah it made sense. If anything were to happen to you — Trevor said you’ve known each other a long time; you obviously trust him.”

“I do. And Joy adores him… And he’s got five kids of his own so he’s very experienced at this.”

“… I got the impression you and he are… involved?” Cassie said, glancing uneasily at Trevor as if she may have misunderstood what he had told her.

“No, we are,” Olivia confirmed, still a little unnecessarily uncomfortable admitting that in front of Trevor.

“But you call him Detective Stabler?”

Olivia laughed, hoping it sounded amused, not sheepish, her eyes looking involuntarily at Joy again.

“Force of habit,” Trevor suggested.

“Something like that.”

Cassie seemed to accept that explanation, nodding absently as her gaze returned to Joy. Olivia had noted that Cassie hadn’t even tried to approach Joy, and had, in fact, positioned the table between them. It was heartbreaking to see her holding back, but Olivia could certainly understand the intention to not get too close. It would only make leaving harder later.

Joy kept them entertained for a while, flitting from toy to toy, chattering to herself about cheese, frowning adorably whenever she caught them all watching her, and Olivia and Trevor were happy to allow Cassie to lead the conversation; to just give her time with Joy. She stayed put at the table for the duration, though, observing her from afar, a tension in her as if getting any closer might break her.

Olivia was loath to raise her other question, but time was running out and she couldn’t help but feel that Cassie was not going to agree to another visit any time soon. She certainly had the impression that this had been harder than Cassie had anticipated.

“Er, there was something else I wanted to speak to you about, if that would be okay?” she asked, gently.

“Okay.”

“So, obviously Joy’s starting to talk and she repeats a lot of what we say , and, well, Noah calls m—”

“No?” Joy piped up, from where she was sitting flicking through a colourful book. She looked at Olivia expectantly.

Olivia smiled, explaining to Cassie, “She’s quite a fan of Noah.”

“No?” Joy asked again, looking around, then pulling herself to her feet and wandering towards them. “No?” she repeated, tapping Olivia on the leg even though her eyes were already fixed on Joy.

“Noah’s at school,” Olivia reminded her.

“No sool.”

“That’s right.”

Joy pursed her lips for a moment then looked at Trevor. “Tev,” she stated.

“Joy,” Trevor smiled at her.

“No sool,” she told him.

“Noah’s at school?”

“No.”

Cassie laughed at that, drawing Joy’s attention to her. Olivia also looked and saw tears in Cassie’s eyes.

“Mama,” Joy said, appearing to study her closely.

Cassie nodded, but couldn’t seem to respond.

“… No sool.”

When Cassie didn’t say anything, Joy repeated, “Mama.”

Cassie nodded and managed to get a “Yeah,” past the lump in her throat. Joy regarded her for a moment longer, then nodded herself and turned to wander back to the toys.

“She doesn’t know what it means,” Cassie remarked, her voice a tight whisper.

Olivia tilted her head, sympathetically, but she wasn’t sure what to say to that. She couldn’t say that she was wrong.

“She will,” she promised.

Cassie tore her eyes away from Joy and fixed them on Olivia. “You were going to ask if she can call you Mom.”

Olivia couldn’t tell from her serious expression, or from the quiet tone of her voice, whether it was something she was going to be okay with or not.

“I was going to ask what you want her to call me,” she stated, carefully . “I’ve insisted on being referred to as Olivia, but —”

“No…” Cassie returned her gaze to Joy, watching her root through the pile of toys, still muttering about Noah being at school. “No, it’s —… I assumed she’d call you Mom. You’ll be the only mom she knows.”

“Cassie, when she’s old enough to understand, I will make sure she knows who you are.”

Eyes still riveted on Joy, Cassie nodded, seemingly absent mindedly and Olivia returned to being a silent observer.

Eventually, Cassie turned once more to Olivia. “I know what I’ve lost,” she stated, her voice firm despite the tears once more in her eyes. “But she’s safe now.” She looked back to her little girl, now building a tower of those colourful blocks just so she could knock it down, laugh, and start again. “She’s safe.”

...

“You okay?”

Olivia must have been miles away because she hadn’t heard Trevor re-enter the room. Her mind had been reliving the visit, remembering the restrained, shuttered expression Cassie had worn throughout, heart breaking all over again at the fact that the young mother had not once approached her daughter for a hug. It wasn’t the Cassie Olivia had known and it crushed her to know that was the way Cassie felt she could cope.

“I should have done more for her,” she told Trevor now, as she stood up from her seat and prepared to leave.

“I disagree.”

She looked at Trevor, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“... Liv, you supported her; you did what you could based on what she chose to share with you. That’s all you could do…”

He was right, she knew, because she had been over and over it all in her own head, repeatedly, and been forced to conclude that there was nothing else she could have done when faced with the front that Cassie had successfully presented. Knowing that and accepting it, however, were two very different things.

“But what you’re doing now, for Joy...” Trevor continued, “None of this was her choice... As you well know.”

That addendum surprised her. She was aware that Trevor knew of her origins, but they had never openly discussed it.

As was her usual response when things got personal – on this topic in particular – Olivia thanked Trevor for his support with only a small smile, and a brief nod, and she resumed getting ready to leave by heading for the disarray of toys again.

“I’ll get those,” Trevor offered, sweeping in in front of her and making light work of putting them all away. Joy watched him with an unamused glare, but didn’t object as she had done with Olivia. She was tiring, that was clear, and she could probably sense that their time here was drawing to an end.

“This, actually, brings me to something I wanted to talk to you about…” Trevor said, unexpectedly, as he finished up, and held out a hand towards Joy to encourage her to get up. She acquiesced without so much as a murmur, then held up her hands and shot him her best adorable smile in hopes that he would carry her out as he had carried her in.

Wrapped around Joy’s little finger as much as Elliot was, Trevor obliged, then turned to face Olivia.

“... Can I buy you and Joy lunch?”

He must have interpreted her intrigue as apprehension, quickly reassuring her, “Not a — It’s a business proposition, really.”

“A business proposition?” she echoed, now even more curious.

“Intrigued enough?” he grinned.

She laughed, her mind racing wondering what he could possibly want to ask. “I’d say so.”

“So… lunch?”

“Okay.”

… … …

She hadn’t intended to fall asleep. Joy had been fussing when they got back, and Olivia’s ankle had been throbbing with the amount of moving she had done, so a little rest on the couch had seemed like the perfect solution. She had put “Inside Out” on to settle Joy – it was the girl’s current favourite, she would grin, delighted, at every mention of her name, and each appearance of her blue haired namesake – and she had propped herself up with cushions against the arm, so she could stretch her legs out. Joy wriggling on top of her had been mildly uncomfortable until she had realised what film was on and laid down, enthralled. It was only when the sound of her own name in a familiar whisper made it through the haze of sleep that Olivia realised that the movie had clearly worked wonders on settling them both.

Cracking one eye open, she smiled sheepishly at Elliot, where he was perched on the coffee table beside her, and she glanced past him to see the credits of the movie still scrolling on the TV. So she hadn’t been asleep too long. Though she was struggling to recall seeing much past the opening few scenes.

Her back was uncomfortable now that she was awake and aware, she was about to attempt to sit up when she noticed that Elliot was still just staring at her, and she spotted the intense, drawn line of his lips, and the seriousness in his eyes.

“What’s —”

“Marry me,” he said, his voice that deep, rough whisper that she could feel deep in her heart.

Stunned but instantly on alert, she tried again to ask, “What’s happened?”

“Nothing’s happened,” he shrugged.

“Elliot —”

“At least let me move in. I know you probably haven’t thought about this and you’ll think it’s too soon, but I want this, Liv. I want to come home to this…”

She tried to sit up but struggled with Joy’s weight along her side.

“… And I know it won’t always be adorable scenes of you and Joy napping, but it’s been good hasn’t it? Me staying here since your op…”

“El, take Joy,” she requested.

She could tell he was reluctant to do so, no doubt thinking she was trying to escape the conversation. “Liv, can we —”

“Take Joy, please,” she insisted and he finally moved, lifting the sleeping child off Olivia and settling her against his chest. Joy stirred briefly, before plopping her head on his shoulder and returning to slumber.

“Liv —”

“Just give me a second,” she asked, swinging her legs off the couch and grabbing her crutches. She was not convinced that something major had not prompted Elliot’s proposals, nor was she convinced that he fully realised what he had asked, but she was conscious that how she handled this right now was critical. And, on at least one of his suggestions, she knew exactly where she stood. The other... Well, she wasn't convinced she had fully realised what he had asked either.

She made her way over to the bookcase, while he continued trying to make his case. “Look, I held off asking after you were injured, I didn’t want you thinking it was a knee-jerk reaction to that, but I just —”

She picked out a folder from on top of some books, and turned back, offering it to him.

He frowned but shifted Joy so he could take the folder and open it. She watched him realise what he was looking at; his lips quirking as he flipped through the sheets.

“It was useful, having the yard, for Joy when we were at the McCanns’,” she told him, and his eyes flicked up to meet hers. “I thought it might be time to… upsize.”

“These houses have a lot of rooms,” he pointed out.

She shrugged. “Noah and Joy… Eli. Your mom…”

He closed the folder and moved closer to her. “So that’s a yes to the moving in?”

“… That’s a yes,” she told him, her heart fluttering for the second time that day as she heard the insinuation in her own voice.

He started to smile, then studied her more closely. “To the moving in?”

She nodded, heart practically pounding now with what they were on the verge of discussing. She both wanted to run and to find out what happened next.

“… Or the marriage?”

“You just want one or the other?”

“Olivia…” he warned.

“I —”

The apartment door burst open before she even knew what the rest of her sentence was going to be.

“See, she’s here, you can ask her,” Noah said, grinning at Marco, the two of them laden with bags of groceries.

Marco was laughing. “That would not be appr—”

Noah stopped just in front of where Olivia and Elliot were still frozen in position, apparently oblivious to having interrupted anything.

“Mom, tell Marco that it’s true you used to date Peter Stone.”

That broke the freezeframe. Elliot’s eyebrows rose as his eyes widened, and Olivia turned to Noah in shock.

“Er, Peter and I worked together and we were friends —”

“You didn’t date him?”

“No!” If that sounded a little too emphatic she would blame it on the sudden shift from being seconds away from possibly agreeing to marry Elliot to discussing a non-relationship from years ago.

“Huh.”

Grinning, Marco walked past Noah. “These groceries aren’t going to unpack themselves,” he said as he went into the kitchen.

“Yeah,” Noah said, starting to follow him, but still frowning.

Olivia’s eyes met Elliot’s and his were sparkling with amusement. She was just anticipating the moment they would be alone again and he would expect to pick up where they left off, when Noah stopped before the kitchen door and spoke again.

“But… you did date Uncle Rafa?”

Olivia’s horrified expression must have been enough of an answer because Noah remarked, “Huh”, again and disappeared into the kitchen.

When she had recovered enough to turn back to Elliot, she found him putting down Joy who had now woken up and was insisting on being released.

“Do I want to know why Noah and Marco were discussing my love life?”

Elliot chuckled while Joy started rooting through the books on the table, discarding them to the floor one by one.

“They were probably discussing baseball,” Elliot suggested, moving towards her and getting his feet out of the book impact zone, “The Barba question seemed like an afterthought.”

That made sense, she would go with that.

Elliot’s gaze was fixed intently on her and she expected he was deciding where to start on resuming their conversation when, instead, he asked, “So did you date Peter Stone?”

“No, I didn’t. You are fully briefed on my dating history, Detective.”

He nodded. “Same can’t be said for your son,” he smirked.

Her scoffed laughter settled into a sigh as he stopped in front of her, his eyes soft and hopeful as he asked her, “Did we just get engaged?”

Her immediate instinct was to say yes; closely followed by her usual instinct to back away from such commitment now that she had time to think about it. But she had spent five months learning not to give in to that; learning that she could do this – she could be part of a family, a couple. But was five months long enough? And was marriage something she could see herself part of?

“Maybe,” she told him, in the end, because it was the truth – she wanted it, but was she ready for it? “Can we talk about it, later?” she asked, inclining her head towards the kitchen to remind him that now was not the ideal time for such a conversation.

He nodded but he didn’t say anything and he was just watching her with unreadable eyes. She felt a churning of fear in her stomach, that she had upset him.

“Elliot,” she prompted.

“Dad,” Joy echoed.

He pulled Olivia close, releasing a laugh that was the last thing she had expected. “I think I’m in shock.”

She laughed herself, relieved that he wasn’t offended by her lack of a real response. “We’ll talk about it later?” she checked, not wanting it to become something they would both avoid out of fear of where the conversation might lead.

“Definitely,” he promised, kissing her softly until they startled at the impact of Joy colliding with their legs. (The fact that the girl did not offer an emphatic ‘Eww’ suggested she was not looking up at what they were doing.)

“I love you,” she reminded him when they parted.

“I love you,” he returned.

And she didn’t want to leave it there and come back to it later. She knew her own mind and the questions and doubts it could conjure up if given more time. But she also knew that the decision she made would affect much more than just her and she owed it to her kids, and his, to have given it the proper thought it deserved. Not to give in to the magic of the moment – of five months of moments – on a whim.

“Later,” she whispered after kissing him again.

“I’m gonna hold you to that.”

“I want you to.”

… …

“Why don’t you go and sit down?” Elliot murmured close to Olivia’s ear as he stepped up next to her at the stove, settling his hands on her waist. “I’ve got this.”

“I’m fine,” she insisted.

“You’re shuffling.”

“Yet still fine.”

“Okay,” he relented, but he stepped in closer to her, keeping his voice low given that Noah and Marco were at the table not so far away. Joy was with them but she doubted he was concerned about her overhearing. “But you know I’m here for you to take advantage of me.”

She smiled, amused and grateful, and leant back into his embrace. “And you know that sitting still is not for me.”

“… It won’t heal properly if you don’t rest it properly.”

“I know. I’m using the crutches.”

“Did you use them today?”

“Are you gonna believe me?”

He laughed, his breath dusting across her ear. “I might ask Joy for confirmation.”

“I used them… most of the time.”

“Better than I expected,” he admitted, before pressing his lips to the side of her head then stepping away to the fridge.

Olivia laughed again and continued stirring, enjoying the calm; the quiet voices of Marco and Noah discussing his homework; the occasional math word shouted in an excited echo by Joy.

Elliot returned to lean against the counter beside her, opening a cold bottle of water and offering her some before taking a drink himself.

He watched her for a second then asked her – quite casually but with a tension to his jaw that hinted at the jealousy he was keeping in check, “So, you and Joy had lunch with Trevor?”

“Tev!” Joy echoed from across the room – clearly listening in on both conversations going on around her.

In the shock of what had transpired since they all got home, Olivia had forgotten that she had mentioned that in her texts to Elliot about how the prison visit had gone.

“We did,” she confirmed. “He, er, he had a proposition for me.”

He straightened up a little at that.

She smiled, softly, butterflies swooping in her stomach again at the mere thought of the other propositions today had brought. “Not like yours,” she assured him, quietly, nowhere near ready to share what they had discussed with her son.

“I would hope not… You look quite — … excited about it though.”

She hadn’t realised that but now recognised that she had been smiling as she told Elliot. It wasn’t all because of the budding plans she and Trevor – and Joy – had made, but she couldn’t deny that it was playing a part. This had certainly been quite a day.

“I think, maybe, I am.” She balanced the spoon on top of the pan and turned down the heat so she could face Elliot while she explained. “He’s looking to set up a foundation of some kind, some way to ‘give back’, support victims, survivors, families. He thought I might be the person to help him narrow down a focus, a need.”

“Smart guy.”

“… It’s very early stages but as we talked and Joy joined in as she does, the answer seemed obvious… – So, maybe an organisation that supports everyone impacted by sexual assault, abuse, but with a particular focus on children born as a result.”

Elliot nodded as she explained.

“… Possibly to be called, Joy of You.”

A smile crept slowly onto Elliot’s lips. “JOY.” He whispered it so as not to attract the girl’s attention.

“Yeah.”

The smile widened until he was inanely grinning at her.

“What?” she asked, shifting uncomfortably under his silent appraisal.

“It’s perfect.”

“It needs more thought.”

“You came up with that in one lunch...” he said as he stepped into her once more, settling his hands on her lower back this time, encouraging her closer. “Imagine what that foundation’s going to achieve once you’ve had months and years on this.”

“It might not go anywhere —”

“Or you’ll make sure it goes everywhere,” he insisted with a look of such absolute admiration that it sent a flush of warmth throughout her body.

“You know,” she began, her words catching on how completely and utterly loved she felt, “you don’t have to adore everything I do.”

His expression completely unchanging, he told her, “I always have.”

She felt herself blush again at that, but scoffed as well, thinking back on some of their finer arguments from their partnership. He most certainly had not always adored everything she did.

“All right, maybe not always,” he accepted, “but since I came back. Since you let me back in to your life…” He nestled her closer. “Liv, you are amazing.”

“And you are overdoing it,” she whispered, pushing forward to find his lips, gratefully, with hers.

“Eww!” Joy declared, and while Elliot’s lips curved against Olivia’s, it did not deter them.

“There are other people in the room you know.”

Elliot did pause then, parting his lips from hers only long enough to tell Noah, “We know.”

As the kissing resumed, they heard Noah groan and Marco laugh.

“Doesn’t bother me,” the other man said, “Love is beautiful.”

“She’s not your mom.”

“Mom!” Joy echoed.

Because he was still wrapped around her, Olivia felt Elliot freeze. She could also sense that Noah and Marco had done the same. They had all known it was only a matter of time before Joy chose to repeat that; in fact they were all probably surprised it hadn’t happened sooner.

Elliot pulled back to judge her reaction, and a glance over her shoulder showed the two others staring at her from the table.

“Mom!” Joy repeated, waving towards Olivia with a wide smile.

“It’s okay,” she assured them, stepping out of Elliot’s embrace, but staying close to him. “I spoke to Cassie. If Joy wants to call me mom, it’s okay.”

There were nods and murmurings of relief and Olivia could have sworn that Marco’s small smile was approval. He held her gaze for a second before getting Noah back on track with his homework.

Olivia moved to return to the stove but Elliot stopped her, with a gentle touch to her arm.

“That’s not the first time Joy called you ‘Mom’, is it?” he asked, softly.

He really could read her like a book. “... When we were at the prison... Not when we were with Cassie.”

He nodded and she moved to step away again, but he continued, “It’s right, Liv.”

She shook her head, sadly, thinking again of the distance Cassie had kept between her and Joy. “It isn’t.”

“Under the circumstances we’re all in... it is.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“It is.”

He held her gaze, empathetically. He knew. Everything she wasn’t saying, everything she was feeling. The complicated awe she held that she now had a daughter.

“She calls you Dad all the time and you’ve always acted like it’s not.”

“That’s a reflex,” he said with a shrug, “she doesn’t do it in context. Except…” He slid his hand across her back and kissed her gently on the temple. “… when you deliberately say my name so that she’ll say it.”

Busted. “You noticed that?” she asked, looking up at him.

“Yeah, I noticed that.”

She smiled at him, warmly. “I like how it sounds.”

… …

“Thank you for doing that,” Olivia said as Elliot settled beside her on the couch after checking on Joy. On his orders, she herself had stayed, foot up, and listened to him soothing the girl back to sleep through the monitor.

“You don’t have to thank me. I like to do it.”

A smile flickered across her face in response to the thought that flitted through her head and Elliot frowned. “What?”

She pursed her lips to control the smirk and shook her head, unsure she should voice the thought.

Elliot shifted to be facing her, and slipped his hand onto her thigh. “Tell me…” he prompted.

“I just… I always assumed you had so many kids because you liked sex —”

Though his eyes widened, apparently surprised at her thought process, he laughed.

“— Apparently, you just like kids.”

“Bit of both,” he told her, with an impish grin.

She laid her hand over his, entwining their fingers. “I’m sorry if I’ve not been taking advantage of you enough.”

“Don’t be. I get it. You have your routines.”

“I have my control.”

“You’re a single mom with two kids, you need to control what you can.”

“I’m not a single mom anymore,” she told him, her voice soft with the emotion behind it, with the feeling behind it. She felt sure she could see the same sentiment in his eyes. “So, if you’re sure about moving in together —”

“I am,” he assured her, eagerly, squeezing her leg, and inching closer to her.

She smiled at his keenness. “Then I promise to try to — relinquish some of that control.”

“I promise to insist that you do,” he smiled back, their gazes holding, the weight of what they were agreeing settling over them.

“I’ve been on my own for a long time,” she whispered, needing him to understand that this wasn’t a step she was taking lightly. “It might take me a minute.”

“Liv, you can have all the minutes you need.”

She nodded gratefully, then braved the topic that was churning her stomach. She wished now that she could delay it; wished she would give him a different answer. But she knew she had to be honest with herself and with him on this. It was too important to hide from. She hoped he would understand that. “So, about your other question —”

“You don’t need to answer that.”

Panic gripped her instantly, despite the calm, contented look still on his face as he said it. Eyebrow raised, her voice trembled as she said, “I don’t?”

He shook his head. “You deserve a proper proposal.”

The renewed sparkle in his eyes brought a measure of relief, as did the suggestion that this wouldn’t be the last time they discussed this. “More proper than a spur of the moment coffee table demand?”

“Well, at least, less spur of the moment, more in possession of a ring.”

“I don’t need a ring, or a big gesture.”

“But you weren’t going to say yes.”

“If Noah and Marco hadn’t interrupted, I think I might have done, but —”

“You’d have regretted it,” he said, not unkindly.

“Regret’s a bit strong, but I would have come to question it, and… I’m not sure I would have been comfortable with the decision.”

Disappointment certainly clouded his eyes as he nodded, but also – and more so – they were filled with understanding. “Okay.”

“I love what we have, El, and how it’s… growing. I’m just not there yet.” She held onto him, tightly, making clear it was not a rejection of him, just a postponement of that major step forward. “… I’m definitely getting there, though. I think… Maybe.” That was as sure as she could be but she knew she was more scared of how much she was starting to want it than of screwing this up with her inability to commit. In the past she had run when it was clear a relationship was not going to get to this point, and she had run when it was clear it was… She didn’t want to run this time – at all – she just needed time. She would make sure she got there. She just wasn’t there yet.

He smiled, tenderly, “Definitely possibly maybe… Liv, it’s fine. I understand,” he assured her and she believed him, nodded to show her gratitude for that, wondered if – hoped that – understanding would be enough. She watched his eyes roam slowly about her face, giving him the moment to decide how to voice whatever he was thinking. “Besides,” he shrugged, “I took it back.”

“You did not!”

“I said you didn’t have to answer.”

“And then basically asked what I would have said.”

Another shrug; that infuriating, cocky smirk. “I simply pointed out that I knew what you would have said.”

“You’re an ass.”

“Always have been.”

“Ain’t that the truth?”

He chuckled and shuffled in even closer to slip his hand across to her hip and encourage her to roll to face him. She adjusted her body, but left her foot propped up on the table.

“You’re really okay about this?” she checked, once they were settled.

“I am.”

“And you’ll… live in sin with me?”

“I’d live in Antarctica with you.”

“I think a New York winter’s cold enough.”

Elliot shrugged, grinning. “Well, if you change your mind.”

She grinned back. “We’ve got a little off topic.”

“Liv, I want to be with you... Wherever, and in whatever capacity, you’re ready for.”

“Then I guess we’re moving in together.”

“I guess we are.”

She leaned toward him and he met her halfway for the kiss. A kiss she deepened and prolonged to make sure he knew – and felt – everything she had told him about how she felt, and what she was determined to work towards.

When it reached a natural conclusion, she dropped back barely centimetres.

“So, you want to tell me what happened at work today?”

He frowned but it wasn’t convincing.

“… Not that I don’t believe that Joy and I are cute when we nap, but I’m not sure we’re ‘pop the question’ cute.” She raised her eyebrows, daring him to deny it. “So tell me what happened.”

She watched him consider obfuscation for a second and was relieved when he sighed and looked away.

“There’s an undercover gig coming up.”

“Okay… Okay, well we knew this would happen —”

He met her eyes again with a conviction that explained exactly why he had proposed the minute he saw her. “I don’t want to go.”

Her eyes widened, considering the possible implications of why he would be so adamantly against it.

“It shouldn’t be dangerous,” he assured her, quickly, obviously reading that concern on her face. “It’s intel gathering. I just… I don’t want to be away from you all.”

She also didn’t want him to go, but she had accepted that if they started something, at some point it would come to this. To being apart again. It was his job and she wasn’t about to ask him to give it up. “Elliot, we’ll be here when you get back.”

“I know.”

“And we’ll have house viewings to look forward to.”

He smiled at that but didn’t look reassured. She didn’t want him going into an undercover job so uncertain and disheartened. That was a sure fire way to be off focus.

“Did you talk to Ayanna about it?”

“It has to be me.” He practically scowled as he told her that and despite the unhappiness he had already expressed that seemed a disproportionate reaction.

“That’s what Ayanna said?”

“No… The assignment makes it obvious. Out of me and Reyes, only one of us could convincingly move into a retirement village.”

She bit her lip to stop the surprised burst of laughter and clamped down hard in hope it would stop her amusement from showing in her eyes. She failed.

“You can laugh. Everyone else did.”

She released a smile, but refrained from all out laughter.

“… So you can see why I can’t get out of it?”

“Reyes really would stand out.”

“The timing’s exceptionally crap.”

“When do you need to start?”

“I told Ayanna I won’t go before your birthday —”

“El —”

“And I need to be back for your award —”

“I’ve told you neither of those things need a fuss.”

“And I’ve told you you’re wrong… The birthday part is fine, it gives us time to put together my background. There’s no guarantee on the end date though, it’ll depend how much I can get, how quickly.”

She had expressed numerous times that they didn’t even need to go to the award ceremony. It was a PR stunt, really, the department honouring her twenty-five years in SVU in an attempt to big itself up – never mind that they were a year late. But, more so than that, the timing was eerily similar to the last award ceremony Elliot had been intending to attend. With Kathy. She couldn’t help but flashback three years, she had no desire to put Elliot, or his family, through that when she could simply avoid it. “You’re not to worry about that while you’re there, Elliot. If you’re not back, you’re not back.”

He fixed his eyes on her again, and they narrowed, astutely. “You’re to go to that award ceremony —”

“Elliot —”

“Olivia, whatever you believe is the reason behind it, you have put in those twenty-five years. And telling your story, showcasing your commitment, it shows the victims, the survivors, that they matter. That getting justice for them matters.”

He slipped his fingers under the back hem of her t-shirt, stroking her skin, tenderly.

“Promise me you’ll go,” he requested, softly. “Whether I’m back to drag you there myself or not.”

“Elliot, it’s weeks away, I can’t —”

“Please, Liv. Just promise that you’ll try to be there.”

His insistence prompted another flashback, this time to a similar conversation with Fin, her suggesting she wouldn’t go to the ceremony, him insisting that she should. Cryptically remarking that she never knew who might show up.

She studied Elliot, closely, surely he would not have planned anything.

“Liv?” he asked when she hadn’t answered him.

“You remember that I hate surprises, right?”

“Yeah…?” he frowned, and if he was feigning lack of comprehension this time it was a lot more convincing. “You remember that they’ve told you you’re getting the award? It won’t be a surprise.”

“Ha ha… Okay, I promise I will try to be at the ceremony.”

“Thank you. Hopefully I’ll be there with you.”

“Please don’t worry if you’re not, Elliot. And don’t worry about us at all, okay? We’ll be fine. Just concentrate on gathering your intel and staying safe.”

He still looked unsure, but he agreed, solemnly. “Okay.”

“But don’t enjoy your retirement village too much. We have a one year old kid, retirement is way off!”

A grin spread slowly across his lips, his eyes lighting up, drawing her attention to the way she had worded that.

“‘We have a one year old kid’,” he echoed.

She had said it automatically, subconsciously choosing that pronoun because she had started to see it that way. Joy was theirs. No matter how surreal that felt, no matter how overwhelming it would be if she thought about it too much, no matter how frequently she still expected to wake up and find that this was all a dream.

She couldn’t help but smile back at him, “Yeah.”

He pulled her as flush against him as they could manage in their current positions and with her current injury. And just before his lips made contact with hers, he told her, “I like how that sounds.”