I don't own anything, make money, etc...

I'm not really sure what I think of this one. Let me know if you think it's worth continuing...

1-6 Precinct

It was a warm, sunny afternoon when Detective Odafin Tutola huffed as he dropped a file box filled with unopened mail onto his desk. He flopped into his desk chair saying "I can't believe how long it's taken for the NYPD to deliver their mail! Some of this stuff has got to be 6 months old." He grabbed a handful and started sorting. He kept grumbling under his breath as his partner and the other detectives chuckled at him. He stopped as he pulled out a photo and stared at it. He contemplated the photo of the little boy, maybe 2 years old and a little baby girl, a few months old, both with big brown eyes. They mugged for the camera, which managed to get both of them almost smiling and almost looking at the camera. He was still starting at it when Captain Cragen ambled past his desk, heading towards his office. He stopped as he saw the photo.

"Cute kids," he said.

Fin looked up at him in surprise. "Yeah, they are. You know, this is a Christmas photo. It's almost June, I bet they don't even look like that anymore," he scoffed.

"They look like their mother," the Captain said quietly.

"Yeah they do," Fin replied.

"Speaking of their mother, have you spoken with her recently?" the Captain asked.

Fin squinted his eyes, wondering what his Captain meant. "No. Have you?"

"No," the Captain replied, "but I have 4 missed calls from her and 2 voicemails that I haven't have a chance to listen to yet. And I just had the most interesting conversation with the Chief of Ds over lunch."

Fin's eyebrows jumped up into his hairline. "What about?"

"I'll tell you after I listen to those messages." The Captain turned and went into his office, phone already to his ear, and closed the door.

Fin took the photo and set it up against the picture frame sitting on his desk and went back to sorting his mail.

In his office, Cragen listened to the messages twice and then made a phone call to the Chief of Ds and another phone call to a woman he hadn't talked to directly in 4 years.

Forty-five minutes later, he opened his office door and hollered "Fin. Munch. My office now please!" The two detectives stood, sharing a glance. Fin shrugged at his partner, silently hoping he would learn more about what they were talking about earlier.

Cragen closed the door behind him. "So, I talked with the Chief of Ds this morning. He shared with me a very interesting piece of information. He told me that a Detective Benson, 2nd grade, had applied for reinstatement into the NYPD, which was granted yesterday and that she had requested placement in this unit."

He paused for a minute to let that sink in. Munch spoke first.

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him Detective Benson was one half of the biggest pain in the ass partnership I have ever dealt with in my career, and that she was good enough that I would take her back in a heartbeat if this was where she wanted to be."

"Is it?" Fin finally spoke up. "Is this where she wants to be?"

"She says yes," the Captain replied. "I spoke with her this morning. She's back in the city, says she's going to stop by tomorrow."

"Well, I'd never thought I'd see the day," Munch said to his partner as they headed back to their desks. Amaro and Rollins looked up at them curiously.

"Me neither," Fin replied. 'What's next, Stabler coming through those doors too?"

"Ha, not even when the government admits the existence of Area 51. That'll never happen. Good to hear about Liv though," the older man grinned.

Amaro jumped in, "What was with the secret conference guys, shutting the rookies out of the good information again?"

"Hardly," Fin replied. "Just an update about an old colleague of ours." He picked up the photo he was looking at earlier and passed it to Munch, who grinned and shoot his head.

The next day...Downtown near 1PP.

Olivia stood with her husband of 3 and a half years, who held a small boy by the hand and was standing in front of a stroller. She was dressed in a business attire, while the man was in jeans and a light colored henley. She gave him directions to the park down the street and glanced at her watch.

"I gotta run. Wish me luck, kiddo." She bent down and rubbed noses with the small boy, his brown eyes mirroring his mothers. Stood stood and rubbed the baby on the head. The man put his hand on her shoulder, and then held her side of her face.

"Knock 'em dead in there, Liv. We'll meet you at the park." They stood and waved until she entered the building and then headed toward the park.

At the park, the little boy ran around giddily, clearly enjoying the new scene. There were a few other parents, or nannies with children. A blond woman in her mid 40s was watching a little boy, about 5 years old, going up and down the slide repeatedly. She nodded at the dark hair man with the baby as he chuckled as his son enjoyed the playground. "You'd think he has never seen a playground before in his life," he said to the woman, making small talk. She smiled.

"Whatever keeps them occupied at that age, huh? He looks like you," she said back.

He smiled at that. "I think he looks like my wife. He certainly has her 'take no prisoners' personality. I blame her for his stubbornness." The small boy was currently rocking on the little horse on a spring with a wild abandon, seeing how far and fast he could make it rock. "See, I would never be so aggressive with such a toy. Nice and quiet, playing by the rules. That behavior there is 100% his mother."

They continued to make small talk, watching the children play. The blond women went to push her son on the swings and shortly after that Olivia walked up upon them from the side, waving at her son as he raced across the playground to greet her.

"Hi Baby!" She scooped him up in her arms as she walked over to her husband. Happy his mother was back and much more interested in the playground, the toddler set off the find something else to play with."

"Seriously, it's been (she glanced at her watch) 68 minutes. How did he get THAT dirty?" she asked the shaggy haired man with the scruffy beard with a smile. She bent to tickle the baby.

"I dunno. He just likes it that way I think," the man replied, grinning at his wife. He still couldn't believe how pretty she was. She caught his eye and smiled back, then turned and glanced the playground out of the corner of her eye. "Maybe you want to go catch your son?" the man pulled his eyes away from his wife and saw the boy climbing dangerously high on the play structure, to high for his liking. He jogged over yelling "Aidan, stop right now!" The little boy froze and waited for his rescue.

Suddenly, the blond woman who had been standing next to her husband was approaching her. Olivia's eyes were still trained on her son and was startled when the woman asked "Olivia?"

Olivia started as she looked up and saw who was speaking. "Kathy! Oh my gosh. What are you...? I mean, it's been so long! How are you?"

"I'm good, Olivia. We're all good," she gestured toward the little boy on the swing.

"Is that Eli? He's so big!" the brunette exclaimed. He must be what, five years old by now?"

Kathy nodded. "Olivia, what are you doing here? I thought you left."

"I did," she said quietly. "I've been in San Francisco for 4 years now. We're moving back to New York; it's closer to Danny's family and he got a great job opportunity. They're letting me transfer back in." She gestured towards the NYPD administrative building down the block.

Kathy nodded. "Which unit?"

"I don't know yet. Still in the middle of the process."

The blond nodded again. "Elliot went back, Olivia, about 8 months after the shooting. He went to Homicide."

Olivia looked a little surprised. She hadn't known that. Her communication with her former colleagues had been pretty limited, and they always tiptoed around the subject of her old partner. Now it was her turn to nod.

"Good, I'm glad. Everyone else is doing okay? The girls? Dickie?" Olivia asked.

Kathy replied, "Yeah, they're all doing really well." She paused. "Look, Olivia, I don't know what happened exactly with you two. Elliot just came home one day a few days after he'd gone back to work and said you'd left, with no word, no message. He was almost beside himself."

Now Olivia was more than surprised. She didn't know how Elliot had found out she had left, she hadn't considered it. She thought about those dark days after the shooting, how much she needed a friend, a friend who was missing and insisting on grieving without her. She didn't say anything in reply, silently watching her husband and son playing on the swings next to the little boy she had helped to deliver.

"Olivia, I'm meeting him for lunch right after this. What should I tell him?" The blond looked at her and Olivia knew she wasn't asking for advice, she was asking what Olivia wanted Elliot to know, which she could then choose or choose not to tell her husband.

Olivia glanced at the shorter woman. "You can tell him whatever you like. Where I've been hasn't been a secret. It wasn't a secret when I moved and it hasn't been for 4 years. I don't know what Elliot told you."

"But you just LEFT!" she said with emphasis, "with no explanation. You left him."

With that, Olivia's calm snapped. She turned to face her. "I left? Kathy, after the shooting I called him every day for two weeks. He never once answered my calls. I even called the house phone and left messages on your machine and he never called me back. I called him every week after that for months. I got NOTHING back. He wasn't the only one who was hurting, Kathy. And he shut himself off. I called him when I decided to move, I called him when I landed in San Francisco, when I started my new job. I called him when I met the man I was going to marry. And I called him the day after my son was born. I left a message that time, it was a little over 2 years ago, Aidan was crying in the background, I knew he could hear that on the message. He NEVER called me back. I never changed my cell phone number. Don't tell me I was the one that left, Kathy. He left long before I did. He'll find out I'm here soon or later, tell him whatever you want. Give the kids my love." And she walked across the playground pushing the stroller, waving at her husband.

"Getting hungry?" she called as she reached him. "I'm ready to go."

"Sure," Danny replied as he scooped his son off the slide. "There's a deli across the street. We can pick up some sandwiches. Does this have anything with the words you just exchanged with my new friend over there?" he gestured with his head towards the blond woman.

Olivia looked out of the corner of her eye, but didn't turn her head. "Of all the playgrounds in Manhattan..." she muttered. Danny looked at her suspiciously.

"Olivia...?" he questioned.

She sighed as they exited the playground. "That's Kathy Stabler."

"THAT'S Kathy Stabler!" He replied in shock. "What're the chances..."

"That's what I was saying..."

"So what did you guys talk about?"

Olivia sighed again. "She asked me why I left and I...I told her that Elliot left long before I moved to San Francisco. I wasn't very nice. It wasn't her fault," Olivia said, a little chagrined. They headed into the deli for sandwiches and then headed back to the hotel.

A few blocks away, Elliot Stabler sat reading a newspaper as his wife and youngest son walked up to his table. He greeted them warmly as the settled into their seats in the sun drenched patio of the pizza joint. Noticing his wife's distracted look, he got Eli settled and then looked at her. "Kathy," he spoke. "What's wrong."

"Elliot, you wouldn't believe me if I told you," she said to him.

"Try me," he said with a grin as the waitress brought over a small pie.

Kathy inclined her head and grimaced a 'don't say I didn't warn you look.' "In the park," she began, "we ran into Olivia." She paused, waiting to see her husband's response. It'd taken him months to get over having to shoot that little girl in his old station house. He didn't even considering going back to work at all until months afterwards. She knew he'd cut off all ties with his old department, and she thought that didn't help him in any way, if anything it made it more difficult. They were the only people who could really understand what he'd gone though. After he'd started back at Homicide he'd mentioned the old crew a few times, but never his old partner. Not once, until a while later when he came home in a funk. He'd told her that Olivia had left, that no one knew where she had gone. He hadn't mentioned her since. She didn't know who to believe now. She doubted Olivia would make something like that up and knowing her husband's mental state those first few months, she knew it was probably true. The last few years though, what was the excuse for that?

Elliot had stopped with his slice halfway to his mouth. The perfectly folded slice fell into itself with the lack of momentum towards his mouth. "You ran into who?" he asked in disbelief.

"Olivia. Olivia Benson. Surely you remember her." Kathy replied.

"Wow. Back in the city. I didn't know." he replied. "How was she?"

"I know you didn't know. She didn't know you were back working either. She looked good El, she's got two kids, and a hunky husband."

Now Elliot really looked shocked. "Kids? Husband?" He cleared his throat. "Good for her." He tried to turn his attention back to the pizza. He failed miserably. Every time he brought the pizza up to take a bite, something stopped him and he put down the slice. Finally he asked, "What else did she say?"

"Not too much. She asked after the kids. She's been in San Francisco but she said she's going back to the NYPD," Kathy replied.

Elliot didn't say anything, but did manage a bite of pizza. He took his time chewing it, thinking.

Kathy spoke again, "Elliot...how come you never talked with her after the shooting?" She cared about Olivia, in the manner that you care about someone that your loved ones also love. She also knew that her husband would never really be over the shooting, but that talking about it was the key to keeping him sane.

"She left Kathy, she up and moved without saying anything. What was I supposed to do?" he said, somewhat defensively.

"Elliot." Kathy replied. "Elliot. She said she called you. She never changed her number. You never spoke to her after the shooting. Maybe she left because you left her."

"I had to Kathy. I had to get away, you know that. I couldn't talk with them, it was too hard. I had you guys, you were enough."

"Yes, Elliot. You had us, but who did Olivia have?"

He stilled, and then placed his pizza down, his appetite suddenly gone. He turned to his son and made some small talk about the park, effectively changing the subject. Kathy sighed and looked down. They would never really be over the shooting.

They finished their lunch with very little other conversation. Walking back to the precinct downtown, Elliot mulled over the bombshell his wife had dropped on him. 'Who did Olivia have? Who did Olivia have? Who did Olivia have?' His thoughts were running through his head uncontrolled. He thought back on the dark months immediately after the shooting. He could barely function. It was all he could do to drag himself out of bed for months. He had put his papers in to the Captain a few weeks after. He'd done that without talking to him, just had the papers messengered over. He hadn't spoken with anyone at the 1-6 for months. He finally ran into Fin of all people, the week after he'd started back at Homicide. The meeting had been tense, they'd never been the best of friends, but they'd worked well together when the needed to. The detective had given Elliot a look of surprise and concern, which he had quickly covered up before offering him a handshake. That look. He couldn't stand that look, it was part of why he'd avoided everyone. He couldn't stand their pity, not when he didn't deserve it, wasn't worthy of it. It was easier to just avoid them. And Olivia. He couldn't talk with her. His guilt was still overwhelming when he thought of Olivia.

He could think about that day now without reliving it. That was what the shrink had told him would happen eventually, and when that happened he would begin to heal. 'Begin to heal,' he scoffed in his mind. 'He would never be healed. Not so long as that girl was dead.'

He saw her standing in the entrance to the bullpen, gun shaking in her hand. He saw Sister Peg on the floor and Olivia covered in her blood. She had the gun trained on him, then her eyes darted towards Olivia. Her hand moved slightly in that direction, she wouldn't put down the gun despite all of their pleas. He could see in slow motion her hand move towards Sister Peg and Olivia. He closed his eyes involuntarily as he heard the shots in his head again. He had shot and killed that teenager in order to save someone he cared about more. And then in the subsequent guilt he had abandoned her.

He shook his head to try and clear his mind of thoughts and memories. He had to move on. That was past. He thought back to when he'd first run into his old colleagues that day.

There'd been a murder, so they'd been called out to a walk-up in the East Village. He and his partner, a detective so seasoned he made Elliot seem like a rookie, had gone upstairs to check out the scene. On their way up, they'd met the responding uniforms heading down. "Good luck with this one guys, there's some sick stuff waiting for you." They'd started in the basement, where the blood trail started. On their way up the stairs, one of the other detectives nodded at him and said "One of your old buddies from the Panty Police is upstairs. Unis thought they'd be interested in this sicko." Elliot's pulse at shot up at that statement. He'd tried to play it cool. "Oh yeah, who is it? Male or Female?" he shot back as they made their way upstairs. "Male, black guy," the officer had replied. Elliot just nodded back at him. 'Fin,' he thought. 'He could deal with Fin.'

His partner's keen eyes didn't miss Elliot's reaction. He had heard, hell, everyone had heard, about what had gone down in the 1-6. He knew this guy had gone through hell. They never talked details, though he'd heard rumors about his partner over there, they had some kind of complicated relationship. "Who was your partner over there at the 1-6?" Malone asked him.

Elliot replied, trying to give off an air of nonchalance, "Um, Detective Benson."

"Mhmm," Malone replied. "Bad-Ass Benson. Her reputation's well known. Good cop. They really must be hurting for detectives over there after both of you peaced out on them."

"What do you mean by that?" Elliot replied. His heart thumped as he ran though all the situations in his head where Benson would leave the 1-6 undermanned.

"You didn't know? And all the rumors said you two were crazy close...She's gone,man, put in her papers, transferred out somewhere I guess since she didn't have her 20 yet. They posted the opening last week, that's how I heard about it."

"She left?" he replied, stunned. "Where'd she go?" He was dumbfounded.

"Dunno, figured you would know if anyone knew. Meant to ask you about that last week when I saw the posting."

He fingered his cell phone, remembering the missed call he'd gotten from her cell phone earlier that week. He never answered her calls. He couldn't bear to hear her voice. They'd become less and less frequent over the past few months, which both relieved him and sent him into a panic.

He'd seen Fin upstairs. The silent nod of recognition, the flash of pity he'd seen on his face that Fin had been unable to cover up. They had shaken hands. Made small talk. Neither of them mentioned Olivia. She and Fin had been close at times, she probably would have told him of his neglect of her. Little did he know Olivia spoke of him as little as he spoke of her.

He fingered his cell phone in hit suit pocket as he remembered her phone calls. They'd continued to get less and less frequent. There'd been two more in the weeks after he'd found out she left, then one a month after that and then nothing for a year. The last call he'd gotten from her had been about two years ago. She'd let the call go to voicemail for the first time. In all the other calls she'd hung up the minute the recording started. He'd saved that message for months. He could remember the exact words.

"Elliot. It's Olivia. I just wanted to..." There'd been a long pause on the recording, as if she didn't know what to say. "I just wanted to talk to you." He could hear a baby crying in the background.

At the time he'd wondered where she had been that there had been a crying baby. Now he realized it had probably been her baby. He'd hung his head in shame. He had abandoned his friend, probably when she had needed him, because of his own weakness and inability to cope.

Back at his desk he'd tossed his coat aside. Malone looked up at him. "Nice lunch?" he asked. "How's the kid?"

"Dead" Elliot almost replied, before realizing that he had mean Eli, not Jenna. God, he needed to get his act together. He went to pour some coffee to try and clear his brain of the cobwebs and then sat down to work.

The next day at approximately 10am Olivia walked with Danny up to the doors of the 1-6, he had Aidan by the hand and the baby in a carrier on his front. Luckily it wasn't raining, they were headed to the park while they waited for her. They needed to find an apartment, a hotel room with a toddler and a baby was not going to last much longer. They were okay as long as the weather held and they could get to the park, but if they were stuck inside she'd place money on one of them not surviving the day. They strolled to a stop and finished their conversation. Just as her family was turning to walk towards the park, she heard a familiar voice behind her.

"Well I'll be damned. Bad-Ass Benson. It's true." She turned to see John Munch ambling up to them. She grinned at him.

"Good to see you too, Munch." She almost wanted to hug him.

"Who are these guys?" he gestured towards the others.

She grinned again and introduced them to her past and future colleague. Munch made the baby laugh and kick her legs and got a grin out of a surprisingly shy Aidan. They turned to walk towards the park as Olivia and Munch turned up the stairs.

"Who knew you were so good with kids, Munch? I'm impressed." Olivia joshed.

"Hey, I have a lot of nieces and nephews. I can relate," he replied. "You here to talk to the Captain?"

She nodded at him. "Yeah," she hesitated as they reached the doors to the second floor bullpen. "I'm still not convinced this is that right place for me."

John turned to her. "Can you think of another department you want to work? Back to Computer Crimes? Warrents? Homicide?" He wondered if she knew Elliot was working there now. He'd thrown that last one in there to see if he got a reaction. He didn't get one.

She shook her head. "I can't imagine working anywhere else, but there's a lot of history, you know." She looked at him expectantly. Somehow he felt that she was sharing more with him now than she had in the prior 10 years they had worked together. She'd always been pretty private and closed off, never sharing her feelings or emotions with anyone. Maybe with Elliot, John mused, but not with the rest of them. The West Coast had changed her, he thought.

He nodded at her. "Yeah, I know." And he held the door open for her as they entered the bullpen. It looked the same, felt the same, even smelled the same…"Welcome home."