01
Olivia is walking home from work. It's mid-February and it's one of the rare nights where the wind chill is bearable. Still, she's bundled up, with a warm stocking cap covering her ears and a heavy winter coat over her torso.
She could have taken a cab, but it's just after seven in the evening and the streets are not nearly as crowded as they would be around rush hour. She prefers to walk anyway. It gives her mind an opportunity to wander and clear up after a long day of interrogations and interviews.
She needs some moments where she can move at her own pace. She loves the unit she works in, but she really can't ever catch a break. There's a constant energy and a need to stay a step ahead of the crimes committed within her city. Which is good, it keeps her out of trouble and keeps her from thinking too far into the fact that work is the only thing she has going for her.
You would think that after fourteen years in the same unit, working as a detective investigating sex crimes, that she would move onto something less...depressing. And there are days when she wants to, when she seriously considers doing so. But then she remembers the victims, and the fact that they don't have anybody else. She remembers her mom, and how she is the product of the same kind of men she fights to put behind bars.
She has come to the realization that she can't ever work in another unit. If she had to, she could possibly go back to the road and walk a beat for a few years. But she has to be honest with herself...she's not with the program anymore. Fourteen years ago, she was fresh off the street. She was prepared to face any call that came her way. But now, she's sure the streets would put a rough one on her. She hasn't gotten any younger.
She honestly can't see herself working another three years...but when she considers retirement she asks herself, what are you going to do? She doesn't have any family. She has nobody to share her retirement with. At least when she's working she isn't completely alone. Her coworkers are good to her, for the most part.
The last two years have been...different. Since her partner and best friend left the unit, she has completely numbed herself. She no longer has the drive to continue forward. It's in partial because he decided to drop her out of all aspects of his life, not just SVU. But it's also because she doesn't want to move on. She doesn't want to do this job with anybody else. And although she is going through the motions, she knows that it's not enough.
She's about the cross the street onto the block she lives on when she notices a figure sitting alone at a bus stop. The darkness hides him well, and he keeps his face down, but there's something about his build that grabs her attention. Her heart rate increases when his name pops into her head. There's no way, though. Absolutely no way. She curses her brain for playing tricks on her and looks away, and waits for the streets to clear so she can cross.
Olivia is about to step off of the sidewalk when she notices him out of the corner of her eye again. She turns her attention, and watches as the man runs his hands across his face before looking up the street, away from her.
She sees him then. She can tell, even from a distance. She could never forget that face.
Olivia can't believe what she is seeing right now. She blinks a few times before looking again. Sure enough, sitting on a bench across the street from her was none other than Elliot Stabler. Her partner of twelve years. Her best friend who fell off the radar two years ago.
Olivia didn't think she would ever see him again. And now this...well this is something she was completely unprepared for. She moves to her right and ducks into an empty phone booth. The last thing she wanted to do was get stuck staring like a duck in a desert. She just...she seriously couldn't believe.
Elliot.
He hasn't changed much. Despite the darkness she is able to take in a few noticeable features about him. She can tell he's let his hair grow out a little. It's still thin, something age undoubtedly does to a person, but he's let it go somewhat. She can tell he has taken well to the lack of department policy. He has even grown out a bit of facial hair. More of a thick portion of five o'clock shadow than a beard. He looks...he looks good.
And it kills her.
She wonders what he's doing. He's looking up and down the street as if he were waiting for something. A bus or a cab maybe. But she can't comprehend why he would be out here alone. He's wearing a grey t-shirt and a pair of jeans. He has no jacket.
This must be why she noticed him in the first place. It's not uncommon for New Yorkers to be out at this time. Sure, it's not packed full of people getting home from work anymore. But there's still a fair amount of individuals out as walking is the preferred transportation around these parts of the city.
He stands out. And it's not because he's, well, Elliot. It's because it's not exactly t-shirt weather. She can't get a clear image of his facial expression from here. She can't see his eyes. She can't figure him out.
She has to look away.
She isn't sure what possessed her to do so, but next think she knows, Olivia is pulling the pay phone from its slot and putting it to her ear. She struggles to get some change out of her pockets, realizing now how badly she was shaking. She finally shoves the change into the slot and punches the numbers she knows by heart.
Olivia looks up, and all the blood drains from her face. She watches as he reaches in his jacket and pulls out his phone. He glances down at it for second before putting it to his ear.
"Hello?"