A/N This started out back before the end of the Harry Connick Jr era, but now I'll just shift it over for future chapters for some E/O….
Don't own anything, not making money off it, etc…
Chapter 1
Olivia heaved one last time and then spit into the toilet. She unbent herself from over the toilet groaning as her stiff muscles protested. She stepped to the sink and rinsed her mouth, spat into the sink and then washed her hands. It was the third time she'd vomited that morning. Her stomach felt better now, but if past experience was any indication it wouldn't last long. Smoothing down her short, brown hair and straightening her clothes, she clenched her jaw and headed back to work.
Taking again her position leaning against the edge of her desk she joined the meeting already in progress. Ten minutes later the meeting broke up and her boss walked over to her and said "Go home, Olivia."
"Cap, I'm fine," she said.
"No, Benson, you're green. Go home or I'll make it an order."
"Come on, Liv," Munch added. "You've run to puke your guts out every 45 minutes for the past 4 hours. That gives you..." he looked at his watch, "30 minutes before your stomach rebels again. With a little luck you can be praying to the porcelain god in your apartment and not have to puke in a cab."
She glared at him and when she looked back, Cragen was handing her the scarf and coat she'd thrown on the back of her chair that morning. She took it from him, realizing she was beaten, and grabbed her bag out of her desk drawer. She did feel particularly awful. Munch stood to walk her to the elevator, handing her a soda as they walked. "And drink something," he said. "It will keep you hydrated, plus it will hurt less when you barf again in..." he looked at his watch "25 minutes."
She looked at him curiously. "Hey, I'm old. I've survived my share of stomach bugs. Feel better. Amaro and Fin will be back in an hour. We'll be fine here," he said, depositing her into the elevator.
Twenty minutes later she made it into the bathroom in her apartment just in time. Wiping her mouth as she looked in the mirror she noted the time on the bathroom clock. 'You were off by 5 minutes, John,' she thought. She did have to acknowledge that it did feel better when there was something in her stomach other than just bile."
She padded into the living room and laid down on the couch, finding an old movie on TV. She laid her head down on the throw pillow and tried to ignore her aching muscles and feverish face. She was asleep within minutes.
Back at the precinct, the other detectives continued their work. Fin and Amaro returned as scheduled and they were debating the motive behind a current case over sandwiches when the EADA and a defense attorney assigned to their suspect walked into the squad room.
"Good afternoon, detectives," he announced. "Who is ready to help us make a deal today?" He scanned the room for his audience and couldn't help but feel disappointed when he realized not everyone was there.
"Yeah, I got this one," Amaro said, standing to join the lawyers.
"Wonderful," David Haden said. "Let's get this show on the road. And where is Detective Benson today?" he asked casually to the room.
Fin answered without looking up, "In bed hopefully. Got sent home with e stomach flu."
"Ah, well, that's a shame. Tell her I hope she feels better. Let's go, Detective," he gestured with his arm to Nick and they walked toward the interrogation room where their suspect waited.
"Yeah..." Rollins spoke up, watching them leave the room. "Those two are totally bangin'," she said casually, her Southern twang a little more pronounced than usual.
"Who?" Fin asked.
"Benson and Haden," she replied.
Fin stared at her with an open mouth and Munch had a wicked smirk on his face. "What! What makes you say that?"
"Ah, come on Tutuola, you saw him...Asking after her, that look on his face when he saw he wasn't here. He's smitten and he has that look that says he knows it's not unrequited," Amanda defended her opinion.
"Benson and the EADA?" Munch speculated. "You think she would?" he asked, almost rhetorically.
"Nah," Rollins replied. "I think she already has." They watched David Haden leave the squad room chatting with the defense attorney as Nick reentered the room.
"You're crazy," Fin told her. "No way"
"No way what?" Nick asked, sipping a coffee. "Plea deal is done. That guy is good."
The other detectives nodded in response to that. Munch replied to Nick's question. "Rollins was just explaining to us, in her delicate Southern diction, her belief that your partner and our EADA are participating in a relationship of a physical, intimate nature, or, how did you put it, Rollins? Banging."
Nick almost spit out his coffee. "Benson and Haden? Come on, Rollins. No way. How do you know?"
"Call it woman's intuition. I dunno, but I swear it's true," Rollins said.
Nick looked at her skeptically. Munch looked altogether too amused and Fin was shaking his head in disbelief.
"You guys don't believe me. That's fine. But let me tell you, when Counselor Haden over there comes down with Liv's stomach flu in 24-48 hours, you boys ALL owe me a Coke."
And with that Amanda sat down and went back to work. The others followed, with Nick still shaking his head and grumbling, Amanda thought she heard something about how he didn't want to know about his partner's sex life. She tried to keep her grin to herself over how uncomfortable he was.
Around 6pm Benson was brushing her teeth for what seemed like the hundredth time that day when she heard a knock at her door. She sighed to herself. In a previous life she would have known it was Elliot coming to check on her. Not anymore. Nick was a good guy, a good partner, but he wasn't Elliot and she doubted he was the type to stop by unannounced just to check on her. Rinsing and spitting, she walked to the door, her arms wrapped around her front in a futile attempt to relieve her aching stomach. Looking through the peephole, she was surprised to see David Haden at her door.
Unlocking the chain, she opened the door quietly for him and gave him a slight smile, self-conscious or her looks. She knew she was not at her best, but hoped the overall effect wasn't too bad.
"David! How did you get up here?" she asked quietly. Her voice couldn't hide the lack of energy she obviously felt.
"I talked my way past your doorman. He's an old softy. Says he hopes you feel better." She raised a single eyebrow at him. "A little bird told me you were sick. I brought you some ginger ale and some chicken soup." He grinned at her, a little proud of himself.
She returned his look almost shyly and opened the door to let him in. "Katz's Matzo Ball Soup," he was saying, heading into her kitchen. "Best in the city."
"Have you not been to Zabar's? You are mistaken." Sick as she may be, she was still a New Yorker and those were fighting words.
"Too far uptown," he replied. "How're you feeling?"
"Like I've spent a good portion of my day hanging over the toilet." She eyed the soup suspiciously as her poured some into an oversized mug. "I'm not sure that's a good idea," she said. "Plus, I'm probably infectious or something, you might want to run for the hills."
"I'll be fine," he said, pulling her towards the couch. She sat down and she sipped at the soup slowly. Her stomach felt fine for the time being, but she had another 40 minutes to find out how good the soup really was. She drank half of what was in the mug, leaving what at any other time would have been a delicious looking matzo ball in the bottom. She set the mug on the coffee table and leaned back down to put her head back on the pillow. David was sitting at the other end of the sofa, telling her quietly the nonsense of the day that didn't require much thought or response from her. She tucked her bare feet in the space between the small of his back and the sofa cushion and gave him a small smile as she closed her eyes. "Thanks, David," she murmured softly.
He reached down and pulled her feet into his lap, rubbing her ankles gently. They both halfway turned their attention to the old Hitchcock movie on the TV and didn't say anything more.
Olivia had her eyes closed, but she wasn't sleeping. She was relishing the comfort of lying down and the warm, smoothly, repetitive motion of his hand on her ankle and lower leg. Without even noticing, or maybe only half noticing and not caring, his hand began to creep a higher and higher up her leg. Olivia turned her head into the pillow and moaned softly. It felt so good. As she felt his hand venturing to her knee, she opened one eye and looked at him.
"If you keep on that path, I'm going to get interested. And getting interested means I will want to move and if I move there is a very good chance I will throw up on you, so think very carefully about your choice of action here, Haden," she said, not moving a muscle.
His hand stilled and moved back down to her ankle. "Understood, Detective."
An hour later, Olivia had drifted to sleep. Her feet still on his on his lap, he reached down and quietly pulled out some work briefs. They sat that way for another 45 minutes until Olivia sat up suddenly. Bent over with her elbows on her knees, head in her hands, she didn't move for a minute. He was just about to ask if she needed anything when she bolted into the bathroom. Emptying the contents of her stomach yet again, she groaned inwardly when she heard David calling to her from outside the door. Reassuring him that she was fine, her stomach clenched again, but brought nothing up. Her stomach muscles ached from the repeated clenching.
After yet another swish and spit and tooth brushing, she stumbled back out to the living room. She sat back down of the couch and David handed her a glass of ginger ale with ice. "Drink it," he ordered. "Slowly. It'll help."
She looked at him as if he himself had invented the stomach flu just to plague her, but she sipped at the cool, carbonated drink and the laid back down. "I think that was the longest stretch yet between puking. I must be on the mend," she said sarcastically. He patted her leg and went back to his briefs as she tried to fall back asleep.
An hour later, she awoke to him pulling her up off the couch. Trying to figure out what he was doing, she pulled back from him. "Don't even think about trying to carry me, Haden. I can walk."
He stopped fighting her and said "Allright, why don't you walk yourself into the bedroom and get into the bed then." She gave him a smirk and hauled herself up. She was questioning her stomach but so far it seemed okay. She definitely felt less flushed and fevered. She walked slowly into the bedroom wondering what Haden was going to do, stay or go. Shrugging out of her top and wiggling down her pants, she rooted around in a drawer for something more comfortable to sleep in.
In only white lace bra and underwear, she was standing at the dresser when she heard a noise from the door. She looked up to see David standing sheepishly in the door with a glass of water. He had been appreciating her figure and wished she'd given him some more time before noticing him. She had some dangerous curves. He wondered how she managed to look even halfway respectable in clothes, because naked she was ravishing. He didn't say anything but had the decency to look awkward.
"It's okay, D. You certainly have seen me in more awkward situations than this." She gave him a slightly wicked grin.
He grinned back, his was certainly more wicked than hers, remembering the last time he'd been in her bedroom. Sensing she was feeling a little better, he walked in the room and set the glass down on the dresser. He lifted her slightly damp hair of the back of her neck and kissed her right at the hairline. She gave an involuntary shiver and then grabbed the tank top and pants she meant to slide on.
He sat on the bed waiting for her. "You want me to stay or go?" he asked as she climbed into the bed and settled in.
"Well, I don't mind if you stay, but I don't want to get you sick..." she said hesitantly.
"Hey, don't worry about me. We Haden men have stomachs of steel." She snorted at him and turned into the covers.
"Good, but don't say I didn't try to warn you off" she said. He patted her shoulder and returned to the living room and his briefs. Glancing at his watch, he saw it was just past 9:30. He could get a couple more hours of work done yet tonight.
Just as he was about ready to pack it in a few hours later, he heard noises from the bedroom. He got up to investigate and caught just the backside of Olivia running into the bathroom. Grimacing as he heard her getting sick, he grabbed the water glass from earlier and went into the kitchen. Returning just as she was exiting the bathroom, he asked "Water or ginger ale?"
"Hmm, water I think. Thanks." she took the water and took a few sips then climbed into the bed. He sat down next to her, above the covers and started sorting through some emails on his phone.
Waking slowly the next morning just as the sun was shining through the east-facing window, she saw David was gone, but as she regained her senses she heard the water running. Coming out of the bathroom with a damp face and damp hands, he said "Hey! You're awake! How're you feeling?"
She thought for a minute, thinking briefly if she had to think about it, she was probably feeling better. "Not too bad. What time is it?"
"Just past 7." he squinted his eyes at her. "You're not thinking about going to work this morning are you?"
She shrugged. "It's been about 8 hours since I've gotten sick. I can handle work I think."
"If you think so..." he said, obviously disagreeing.
"Go to work, Haden. Don't be late on my account." She tossed his shirt at him from where it sat on the end of the bed as she walked into the bathroom.
He grabbed her wrist gently as she passed and pulled her into an embrace. Kissing her gently on the forehead he said "Have a good day. Take it easy, huh? I'll call you later." He pulled on his shirt on his way to the living room.
She smiled at him. "Yeah, okay..." she replied and headed in the bathroom for a shower, stomach a little sore but no longer queasy.
In the other room, David grabbed a quick glass of her orange juice before heading out the door. She saw a couple of photos tacked on the fridge with magnets from local delivery joints. One was of Olivia, Fin, John Munch and other man he didn't know. The other was of just Olivia and this other man. David guessed he was also a cop. Wondering what had happened to him and why Olivia had never mentioned him, he filed the information and the face away in the back of his mind and headed out the door.
Olivia made it through the day at work. Her colleagues were only faintly surprised to see her. Only Nick gave her a hard time; the others were only surprised she hadn't beaten them into work.
Wednesday morning dawned with a new case sending them down to the ME's office first thing. She went with Fin, while Munch and Nick were downtown meeting with the DA's office for trial prep. Getting back mid-morning, she was surprised when they ran into John and Nick in the hallway. Nick was grumbling as he bought a soda from the vending machine in the hallway. Munch was already holding one. "I don't know why this machine never eats anyone else's money?" he complained as he fished another quarter out of his pocket.
"You just have to learn the trick, Oh Young One," Munch said, as he gave the machine a bump with his hip and Nick was rewarded with a cold Coke.
"What happened to trial prep?" Olivia asked. "Must've been a easy one," she said, looking at her watch.
"Nah," Munch replied as they walked into the squadroom. Rollins was already at her desk. "Had to be rescheduled. EADA is out with some stomach bug." He sauntered around slowly and placed the Coke on Amanda's desk, casually, not making any obvious movements. Olivia kept her face blank as she processed that. 'Ha, poor David,' she thought.
"Lucky you," Amanda replied disinterestedly as Nick placed his soda on her desk as well. Olivia was sitting at her desk, but happened to catch the expectant look Amanda was giving Fin as he sat down. "Must be going around," Amanda said.
Wondering what she had missed, Olivia looked from Rollins to Fin, neither of them giving anything away. She shrugged and turned back to her desk, pulling up her email to send a message to one miserable, she was sure, EADA. Fin gave a disparaging look to Rollins and left the squadroom. Nick was studying Olivia to see if she had any reaction and not finding one he went to work with Munch. Glancing up briefly when she noticed Fin come back, she set down her pen as he too set a bottle of Coke on Rollins' desk. Amanda didn't look up, but replied "Thanks, Fin."
"Okay," Olivia demanded. "What did I miss?"
Rollins looked up with an entirely too innocent look on her face. Olivia suddenly realized that Fin and Munch had silently left the room, wanting to avoid the answer, leaving Nick alone with the two women. The two older detectives knew Olivia's temper, even if Nick hadn't figured it out yet.
"Nothing, Liv, just an old wager from a few days ago." Rollins replied, knowing she was dead meat.
"Uh huh, so why did the guys just run out of here like there was a fire?" Olivia pressed.
"Um, Olivia, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to... I didn't intend...I just opened my big mouth..." She stopped and pressed her lips together not knowing how to go on.
"Amanda, what did you do?" she demanded again.
The blond detective grimaced and said "I might have told the guys that I thought you were sleeping with Haden."
"What?"
"I believe the correct word that she used was 'banging'" Nick added, earning a very, very black look from Olivia. Now he understood why the other detectives had left. They knew what was coming. He quietly backed off into the other as Olivia turned her attention back to Amanda, dark eyes shooting sparks.
"Why would you even think such a thing?" she hissed at the blond. Olivia was relieved that the room was empty except for them.
"My mouth just got ahead of me, and I didn't think they'd make such a big deal out of it. I mean, they don't know for sure, just a suspicion."
"And you?" the older detective demanded. "You know for sure?"
'In for a penny, in for a pound,' Amanda thought. "We'll, I don't have proof, but yeah, I'd say I know for sure." She kept her voice low.
"Why do you think that?" Olivia asked, matching her low tone, careful not to give anything away.
"You should've seen the look he gave when he saw you weren't here on Monday. It was like a little kid who had his toy taken away. I've seen that look on men before, Benson. I'm not a simpleton. I'm sorry I opened my big mouth. I don't think anyone else has any idea."
Olivia eyed he other detective closely and straightened her shoulders. "Any idea about what, Detective?" she asked coyly, turning back to her desk. Internally she was swearing, but at least she could keep SOME sense of decorum while they sorted out this mess.
Amanda's eyebrows hit the roof. She tilted her head. 'Playing that close to her chest,' she thought. She didn't say another word, but turned back to her own desk.
About 15 minutes passed. Nick had quietly made his way back. Fin and Munch still hadn't come out of whatever hole they were hiding in. Cragen walked slowly out of his office.
"We have a new case, transferred from Homicide." He handed the file to Nick, saying "You two are catching."
He stepped over to Rollins' and set a can of Coke firmly down on her desk. "Don't ever assume I don't know what's going on in my precinct, Detective." Then in a lighter tone said, "Benson, my office if you have a minute." He turned and walked back towards his office without another word.
Rollins' head shot up and she looked at Olivia with wide, panicked eyes.
"Relax, Rollins. I am positive it's not about whatever you are afraid it's about." 'Let them keep guessing,' she thought. 'The longer this stays a question and not a fact, the better.'
Olivia stood and said "Figure out where we need to go, Nick. I'll be right back." She strode into the Captain's office with a confidence that belied her nerves.
Knocking quietly and then opening the door a crack, Cragen waved her in.
"Olivia, sit down." He offered her a chair. "Did I ever tell you about how I met my wife?" he asked casually.
Instantly confused, she wondered if her boss had gone off his rocker. "Captain, the case...I need to..."
He interrupted her. "Sit down, Detective. That wasn't a suggestion."
Not saying another word, Olivia quickly sat.
Cragen went on "I met Marge in 1961. She worked as an Evidence Clerk down at 1PP. It was her first job out of college."
"I thought she was a librarian," Olivia said, wondering what the hell he was getting at. She had work to do, IMPORTANT work.
"She was, but not until later. See, in 1961 there were very strict rules, and punishments, for fraternization. By going out with me, we were both risking our jobs. I probably wouldn't have been fired, just reprimanded, but she probably would have been if they had found out. The NYPD was not exactly an Equal Opportunity Employer back in those days. When I asked her to marry me, she found a different job. We went down to the court house the day she got hired at the Chelsea Branch of the New York Public Library."
Still baffled, but letting him go one, Olivia shifted in her seat. As if remembering she was there all of a sudden, leaned over and handed her a couple of sheets of paper with a lot of writing on it. "That," he said, "Is a copy of the official NYPD policy regarding personal relationships and conflicts of interest. The rules aren't so strict as they used to be, but there are still RULES, Detective." He looked at her pointedly. She didn't give anything away on her face. "This," he handed her a manila envelope, holds a Personal Disclosure Form. You go read them and decide if you need to give that back to me. Understood?"
"Ah, yes...Sir. Are we done?" she asked, standing to leave.
"Yes, we're done. And Olivia?" she stopped and looked back at him. "Remember sometimes you can't help who you love." He looked her in the eye and she thought she understood THAT part of the conversation came from Don, her friend, not her boss.
The rest of the day passed without incident. Neither Amanda or the guys brought up the wager, although the Cokes lining Amanda's desk were hard to miss. It was late but not too late by the time they headed home. Olivia glanced at her watch as she grabbed a cab. If she was lucky she would catch Zabar's before they closed. Twenty minutes later, purchases in hand, she grabbed a second cab downtown and pulled out the papers Cragen had given her earlier. Skimming them and then going back through and reading it more carefully, she sighed. It wasn't impossible, but it certainly involving a lot of people in her personal life that she didn't think deserved to know about her personal life. Exiting the cab in front of a new Lower East Side condo building she approached the doorman.
A few minutes later she was knocking on David Haden's front door. After a short wait she heard footsteps and then heard the security chain slide back. The door swung open to reveal a very haggard looking EADA.
"Wasn't expecting you, Olivia," he said with a smile, opening the door for you. "How'd you get past Vinnie?"
She lifted an eyebrow, "You're not the only one who can charm their way past a doorman."
"Yeah, but my doorman..." he trailed off.
"What? Works in a fancier building than mine. That's true, but I have a nicer ass than you."
He grinned at that "Hey, I have a nice ass."
"Well, I think so, but I don't know what Vinnie thinks of it. " she said simply. She held up the bag she was holding. "I brought you soup, thought I would return the favor. Also, give you a chance to experience real soup from Zabar's."
"Hmmph" he replied. She looked at him, he obviously hadn't shaved that day, more than a five o'clock shadow on his face, his shirt was rumpled, his eyes we're droopy and a little bit dull. She rummaged around his kitchen and found a bowl.
"Did I look as a bad as you when I was sick?" she asked him.
"No, of course not, you are the picture of beauty and poise at all times," he answered.
She tilted her head. "Good answer, but I know a lie when I hear one. How're you feeling?"
"About how I imagined you felt two days ago, but more manly." She snorted at that.
They sat on the couch. He was slumped in the corner, she sat at the other end, back to the arm rest.
"What?" he asked her. He could tell something was going on. "Spill the beans detective."
"The jig is up, Haden. We need to decide what we are going to do."