I blame this on the smothering anxiety of waiting for a renewal announcement. It has sent my mind into the abyss. Couple that with StormJon's obvious ability to send all Tuckson shippers into an ocean of feels, and I didn't stand a chance. This story is angsty, emotional, and sorta dark at times. If that's not your thing, here's your emergency exit button. Push it.
For those still along for the ride, this was originally intended as a one-shot, but it can turn into a two-parter if enough people are interested.
"She is the whiskey I drank in the bar I never meant to go in on the street I never meant to walk down and yet I find myself never wanting to sober up."
JM Storm
It was a frigidly cold February night in Oswego, NY. The lake effect snow coming off Lake Ontario was blanketing the city in a fresh three-foot coating, the roads shutting down for the night to clear them. Winds were howling, causing drifts up to eight feet to land on the sides of buildings.
Ed Tucker pulled his wool coat and scarf a bit tighter as he trudged from his quaint hotel to the tavern next door. The bells rang out loudly, signaling his arrival, and he stumbled in, stomping the snow off his boots and shivering slightly.
"Welcome, handsome," the bartender called from behind the old, rickety wooden counter. He took a moment to take in his surroundings. The tavern was small, dimly lit, and still sported walls of wooden paneling straight out of the seventies.
He was their only patron.
"Hope ya can find a spot," the bartender said with a wink. "We are pretty slammed."
Ed just grunted a little laugh, taking his jacket off and hanging it on the hook near the door. He rubbed his hands together, warming them up, before making his way over to a barstool and taking a seat, placing his phone face down in front of him.
"Ya look like ya could do with a drink," the bartender said. Ed eyed her, squinting a little bit as he tried to orient himself to the establishment. The server looked to be mid-fifties, slightly over-weight, with blonde hair teased to the point it may have been bigger than her face. But she seemed nice enough, and Ed had to admit he was desperate for a drink and not willing to wander out in the storm farther than this hole in the wall, so he folded his hands in front of him and offered her a tight smile.
"Bourbon," he said. "Neat."
"Man of few words, eh? Comin' right up," she responded with a wink. "Name's Barb."
Ed just nodded, not in the mood for small talk. He turned to try and look out the window, but they weren't entirely transparent, partly due to the storm but also because they were old and a bit dirty.
"Here ya go, stud," Barb said, placing the amber colored liquid in front of him.
"Thanks," he gruffed, holding the tumbler up to her in a mock toast before downing half the serving in one swallow.
He let out an exhale as the burn of the bourbon filled his throat. It felt good.
Barb just eyed him with a smirk, but didn't say anything.
Good, Ed thought.
His eyes darted down to the glass as he twirled it around on the counter, allowing his mind to wander to the place it usually did when he had bourbon: a certain brunette lieutenant.
I think you should try the bourbon.
Ed outwardly winced as he thought back to that line. He remembered walking away, heading towards the bar, kicking himself for saying something so stupid, so contrite, given the fact that he knew she would not stay for a drink with him. In fact, he wasn't even sure why he had asked in the first place.
That was when he noticed she had followed him, a cautious smirk showing on her face.
The now lieutenant had always been intriguing to him, from the first day he met her in Don Cragen's office. She had a fire in her eyes, a determination in the way she set her jaw, and a tone that signaled she meant business. She was a woman who managed to stay in a unit like SVU for nearly twenty years, and still believe that there were good people in the world. That there was a reason to fight for justice.
And that evening was when his interest peaked even more. He had watched as she sipped the carefully selected bourbon, swallowing, before shaking her head a bit and raising an eyebrow at him.
He hadn't meant to, but in that moment, he fell head over heels for Olivia Margaret Benson.
"Who is she?" Barb asked, maybe a slight southern drawl to her speech, startling Ed out of his trip down memory lane.
But the question hit him hard in the gut, and he struggled to respond. So he downed the rest of his drink and tapped on the bar a bit before answering.
"No one," he rasped, before holding his glass up for a refill.
"Mhmmm," Barb let out, taking the glass and shooting him a look as if she knew he was lying. But again, she didn't press.
Sliding the freshly poured refill over to him, she gave him a wink.
"Keep telling yourself that," she said, before turning around and busying herself cleaning some dishes.
Ed let his head drop a bit, swirling the bourbon before taking a smaller sip and continuing his self-torture trip down memory lane.
What I can't just pop in?
He cringed at his word choice. But as usual, Olivia didn't miss a beat with her response.
Looking back, he never quite understood why he had gone sniffing around 1PP to begin with that day. He hadn't consciously decided to make her well-being his priority, but somehow it still happened. Why was he suddenly so invested in SVU, in Olivia Benson? But she had gotten under his skin. Ed was no longer operating as his normal, calculated, skeptical self. He was living and breathing for SVU's shining star, and he was powerless to stop it.
Don't make a liar outta me.
I'm happy with the way things are.
He knew better. He sensed something in her. The Olivia he knew never settled, and that was why he pushed the exam on her. Ed was not about to watch them remove the heart and soul from SVU because of a measly rank. Olivia would have never forgiven herself, and he couldn't let her go through that.
Had he winked at her? Again, Ed shook his head and laughed at himself. He had, in fact, winked at her that day. And he remembered the slight surprise and smirk on her face as he did it.
Think about it.
He had quickly left the squad room that afternoon, mainly because he didn't trust any other words coming out of his mouth, but more so because he felt himself falling. And it scared him.
Polishing off the second drink, he quietly asked for a refill and looked around for the men's room. Nodding at Barb, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and headed off towards the corner bathroom.
It had been a while since he had a night like this, where he just ended up drowning memories of Olivia. And he resigned himself to the fact that he couldn't stop it.
His bourbon was waiting for him when he returned, Barb nowhere to be found. Sighing in relief, he collapsed onto the stool, took a sip, and chuckled to himself when his next memory surfaced.
Is that tea?
He chuckled a bit as he remembered his shock at finding Benson at a bar, drinking tea of all things. Looking back, she likely meant that outing as pure business. Once more, Tucker had surprised himself by insisting they relax a bit.
Man up, will ya?
Again, he found himself cringing at the lines he spoke to her. It was like all of a sudden, being around Olivia caused him to be at a loss for words. And while he came across as smooth and calculated on the outside, he was stumbling all over himself internally.
Briefly he wondered if Olivia ever realized just how much she had managed knocked him off center.
Probably not, he concluded to himself. But she had. And even a year after he walked out of her apartment, he was not back on solid ground.
It was never intentional. But it was inevitable.
It had all been inevitable, really. Because no sooner had they started dating a bit, growing more comfortable with each other, than Eugene had barreled in and tried to fuck it all up.
You never told me your cousin was a priest.
You never asked.
Their little exchange at the One-Six made them laugh. In fact, it still made him laugh. Their relationship was building backwards. The nature of their jobs, and their work, had allowed them to know each other's darker side before the lighter side. Little details, such as the occupation of a cousin, were found out later.
He liked it that way. It worked for them.
"What's so funny?" Barb asked, reappearing from the back and wiping her hands on a towel.
Ed finally allowed a smirk.
"This my third?" he asked, knowing it was, but diverting the subject.
"Ah, the classic subject change," Barb said. "I get it. You're a tough nut to crack."
Ed just nodded, because he couldn't argue with that. Both he and Olivia had been very cautious about what they revealed at their bond strengthened. Or they had tried. The fiasco with Eugene had essentially blown all of that out of the water, and it wasn't all negative. Once the floor began to come out from under them, Ed opened up a bit more. He offered different tidbits, glimpses, into his past. And Olivia followed suit. But it was when Olivia had hastily met him in that dive bar, that Ed realized just how deeply he had fallen.
It was in the grip of her hands. The way she tightly held onto him as they sat with the knowledge of their world beginning to crash down. The way the grip got even stronger as he tried to tell her to walk away, not to stick her neck out of him. And then the way she lingered against him, in his arms, before heading down to 1PP to learn her fate.
He hadn't just fallen for her; she had fallen for him.
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.
"What was that, stud?" Barb asked, turning around and shooting him a confused glance.
"Oh, sorry," he mumbled, not having realized he had vocalized his last thought. "Guess I'm just thinking out loud."
"Mhmmm," Barb mumbled, knowing that the man was wallowing in something. So she just went about her business, occasionally checking to see if he needed a refill.
Liv, I got here a quick as I could.
Ed's head immediately dropped as his mind forced him back to that fateful day at the hospital. In fact, even before he had arrived and was hearing the radio calls, his heart had plummeted.
Ever so briefly, he had thought Olivia was the officer who had been shot, and it had shattered his little world. But quickly, he had learned it that was Mike Dodds. Ed didn't allow himself much relief, though he remembered whispering a thank you to no one when he realized Olivia was unharmed. But he knew she was beating herself up, and he hadn't even learned the turn of events yet. That was just who she was. He had bolted from his office up to the hospital, without a second thought or a word to his secretary.
Despite their relationship being out in the open, they had remained strictly professional at work; but one look into her troubled brown eyes and all bets were off. Ed immediately reached for her, guiding her into the hallway, and standing as close as she would allow as he talked with her.
Once again, it was the way she gripped his hands that broke him. The way she would cling to him in the smallest of ways. He would've promised her the world right then, but that wasn't what she needed.
I'm not going anywhere.
Ed downed what was likely his fifth bourbon at that point, and it wasn't enough. His head was swirling with that phrase.
I'm not going anywhere.
"Dammit," he said, the glass slamming down onto the bar as he let his emotions get the best of him for a split second.
"Okay, hun," Barb said, taking the glass and wiping the spilled bourbon. "One more, on the house."
"Thanks," he grumbled, trying desperately to shake himself out of this memory. But he couldn't.
He thought about her smile.
He thought about her laugh.
He thought about her tears.
He thought about the dim lighting of her apartment.
He thought about her voice as she would tuck Noah in, before coming back out to him.
He thought about the way she would tuck her feet under her as they chatted late into the night on her couch.
He thought about her lips. How soft they were. How tentative she was to first kiss him, but then how eager she had become to taste him.
He thought about her body. All the places she had allowed him to touch her. To kiss her.
He thought about her moans. Her whimpers. Her cries as they made love.
He thought about how relaxed she was after they finished. How she would curl up to him, letting him hold her tightly as they drifted off to sleep.
He thought about her hesitance. Her tendency to run. To push people away.
He thought about the emotion in her voice as she broke up with him. Her trembling chin. Her whimper as his lips hit her forehead.
I'm not going anywhere.
Ed was lost. He was drowning in bourbon and memories of Olivia, and he needed it to stop. He gingerly turned his phone over, checking his messages, and then he tossed around the idea of texting her. Checking in.
It wasn't like they hadn't talked since they had split. They had. Maybe once a week one of them would initiate a "how are you" conversation and though it remained surface, it was something. They still hadn't quite let go of each other. So it wasn't unheard of that he might text her an update on this case, being he was stuck in Oswego. But as he took another sip of bourbon, he thought better of it. Ed was in no head space for small talk, and he didn't want to run the chance of saying too much.
"You gonna tell me who she is now?" Barb asked, leaning over and giving Ed a look of understanding. She knew that he was hurting that night and was offering him a chance to unload, but he wasn't going to give himself the relief.
"She's everything," he let go, his voice nothing but a hoarse whisper full of every emotion imaginable.
He leaned his head back, downing the rest of his bourbon, before slamming the glass onto the wooden bar and throwing a $100 bill down
"Keep the change," he rasped, nodding to Barb and heading for the door.
Ed shook his head, trying to clear his mind as he bundled up for the not even fifty foot walk back to the hotel. Olivia Benson was always going to be under his skin. There was nothing he could do about it.
He jumped slightly as he heard the door to the tavern slam behind him, the harsh lake-effect wind threatening to take his breath away, and his eyes closed briefly at the metaphor.
Once again shaking off the darkness, Ed Tucker steeled himself and trudged back to the hotel. While he never meant to fall in love, he had; and despite the heartbreak, he simply refused to fall out of love with Olivia Benson.
I'm not going anywhere.
I'm almost afraid to ask you for a review, but I will anyways. Do y'all want resolution, or nah?
#IfImGoingDownImTakingEverybodyWithMe