A/N: Since the worst breakup of all time (fiction or non-fiction), I have watched (or endured) the show with "what if Tucker were there" in the back of my mind. This is due first to my undying love for the ship but also to the way S18 ended the relationship. By now you know how I feel, no need to harp on that point. Anyway, the "putting OMB through the wringer" theme of this season along with the apparent refusal to even subtly hint at Tucker has made me miss him even more, but, more importantly, it's made me sad that Benson doesn't have his rock-solid presence in her life as Nooch & Company pummel her.

This is a one shot for now. I prefer to live in my fluffy AU.

…

Even with lights flashing and sirens blazing, traffic leading into LaGuardia could not be easily circumvented. Out of the corner of his eye, Fin glanced at Benson. The Lieutenant rocked back and forth and clawed at her head, perhaps literally trying not to lose her mind, and certain to yank out handfuls of hair if the SUV had to suddenly veer in one direction or another. Once off Grand Central Parkway and nearing the terminal, Olivia gripped the door handle. When the SUV came to yet another dead stop, she pushed the door open.

Incredulous, Fin asked through clenched teeth, "Liv, whaddya doin?"

"Terminal D. Right up there. I can get there faster on foot."

Fin twisted around in the driver's seat. She was right. Construction had eliminated emergency lanes and this particular stretch of airport access road was hopelessly bottlenecked. Also, there was no stopping her anyway.

"Got everything?"

"Yes. And not a word to anyone. Not Dodds. Not the FBI. Nobody."

"Got it," he answered reluctantly. It wasn't that he didn't believe in her. He did. But he wished she wasn't insisting on going alone. "Good luck, Liv."

Chin trembling, she responded with a desperate yet determined expression, slammed the door, and jogged toward the entrance, snaking her way around cars. When he finally lost sight of her, Fin focused on getting back to the precinct as quickly as possible. In case Chief Dodds was there waiting, he rehearsed the most plausible explanations, so their boss would have no reason to question the lie that Benson was at home, anxiously waiting for news with Noah's nanny at her side.

Yes, Fin thought, gotta have Lucy there with her. Sounds more believable. And that way he won't think he needs to go over there himself. Not that the dickhead would anyway.

Though not without delay, the ride back to Manhattan took significantly less time than the drive to the airport, and Fin breathed a sigh of relief when he found the squad room nearly empty. Other than the presence of the desk sergeant, he was alone. Fin opened his computer and began searching databases for any proof Sheila Porter had access to handguns. On the way to the airport, Olivia balked at the suggestion she could be armed, but Fin refused to so flippantly dismiss the possibility. According to the database, Sheila had never applied for nor did she possess a handgun permit and no firearms were registered in her name, at least not in New York. Frustrated, Fin tossed his pen aside. Her home state of New Hampshire had liberal gun laws, so there was no way to know if she or a family member purchased or owned a firearm in that state.

"Took a whole five minutes," he grumbled sarcastically to himself. Part of his efforts had been to kill time and he was dreadfully unsuccessful. He stared at the computer screen. Dozens and dozens of data at his fingertips, and none of it could magically put Noah back in his mother's care. "Goddam shame," he muttered.

Fin sat back and folded his hands behind his head. He hoped Rollins and Carisi would remember to keep him apprised of their progress. He spent a few minutes berating himself for relenting so quickly when Olivia insisted on going solo.

"I'm off the case, remember?" She'd snapped. Frustrated, Olivia's eyes fluttered open and closed and she regretfully waved her hands in the air. "Fin, I'm sorry."

"Don't even worry about it," Fin replied. "Just…be careful," he added, the Chief's warning about rash decisions resonating in his head.

"I'm going to get my son," she declared.

Her words were steadfast, assured, but he had never seen her so terrified.

He glanced at the clock. Surely she was in the air now, futilely trying to will the plane to go faster, maybe she was staring out the window into the blackness of the cold December night and agonizingly wondering if Noah was unharmed, warm, and in the place where Olivia thought he was.

An hour or so later Rollins called in to report she and Carisi struck out in Derry, left Juan Ortoli in lockup at the local precinct, and were checking into a hotel room for the night. Even over the phone, she could tell Fin was holding something back, and after some cajoling, learned of the Lieutenant's actions.

"I'll leave her a message," Rollins said, "But even if she doesn't call back…this cabin's in Franconia?"

"Yeah." Fin heard Carisi's voice in the background. "Boy wonder got the directions up?"

"About two hours away. Do you have the address?"

"No, Liv has all that, but I can get it. But Rollins, this is Liv's play…you show up and somethin' goes wrong…"

"Don't worry," Rollins replied, "I'll wait to hear from her."

Pretending to believe her, Fin smirked, muttered a goodbye, and hung up. He felt better now that he knew Rollins and Carisi were close and were at least going to shadow Olivia as she made her way north to the Franconia property.

Suddenly, Fin screwed up his face in response to the thought that unexpectedly popped into his head. He clicked his tongue and objected to his own idea

"Naw."

But, for almost a year, Tucker had been in Noah's life. In Olivia's life. Fin knew nothing more about their breakup other than her trite, "it just didn't work out." Pessimistic about relationships himself, he was nevertheless saddened for Olivia and somewhat taken aback by the abrupt and unexplained split.

"Damn."

Acknowledging Olivia might kill him later, Fin began digging for Ed Tucker's contact information.

….

California struck Ed Tucker as strange and almost as foreign as the other countries he'd visited in his lifetime. Diners offered scrambled eggs with avocado. Restaurant chefs, at least at the establishments his daughter frequented, prided themselves on their locally grown, chemical-free, organic ingredients, and there was an apparent ban on cooking with salt—Ed found himself instinctively grabbing for the salt shakers every time he was presented with a plate of food. The outside temperature always felt the same—comfortably warm without humidity—and the homes in the neighborhoods just outside Los Angeles had the same uniformity. Three bedrooms. Two baths. Swimming pool. Cement exterior painted one of the five HOA-approved colors and topped with rust-colored Spanish tile.

Traffic snarled interstates at all hours of the day, and public transportation provided little reprieve. Other than his daughter being happy there, the area's only saving grace was its proximity to the ocean.

Since retiring, Ed made a point to spend more time with his only child. They'd taken a vacation together earlier that spring and Ed was now wrapping up a three-week Thanksgiving stay with her and her live-in boyfriend. They both worked during the day, and Ed had fallen into a relaxing yet mundane routine of a mid-morning drive to the shore, a walk on the beach, a casual lunch, and then back to her house for a nap by the pool. He'd come to California intending to clear his head and decide on his next steps. Regrettably, his flight back to New York was in two days, and he'd come to only two conclusions, neither of which were terribly groundbreaking. First, he was definitely not moving out west. And second, he could not live a life of pure leisure.

Ed heard the sliding glass door open and close and his daughter surreptitiously approach him, assuming he was asleep.

"Dad?" She said softly.

"Hey," he smiled at her, "How was your day?"

"Good," she held out his phone, "This was inside plugged in, but it rang when I came in and I noticed a bunch of other missed calls."

"Thanks." Ed entered his passcode. Sure enough there were five missed calls from the same number, but the caller had left only one voicemail. Ed navigated to that page and listened.

"Tucker, hey, it's Detective Tutuola, listen…"

Ed stopped the message and immediately called him back.

….

Olivia barged her way off the airplane and hustled through the terminal. She clutched her phone and kept her other hand in her coat pocket, ready to flash her badge at any moment. Before exiting and finding a taxi, she made herself stop, breathe, and concentrate on the hours ahead. By her calculations, the cabin was two hours away, which meant her arrival time would be in the middle of the night; darkness would predominate and make navigation difficult.

She read Rollins' texts, beginning with we have a solid lead and ending with dead end. By the time she sent the last message, Olivia was already headed for Manchester. She opted not to communicate with Fin; she was blatantly violating Dodds' orders, so if he found out and made good on his threats, he could be absolved of all responsibility.

There was one other message. It displayed as a number not a name and read:

Liv, I'm on my way, and when I get there, whatever I can do to help, I'll do.

Olivia wasn't sure of the sender's identity. Cassidy? No. Her message had been clear. She wanted nothing more to do with him. No exceptions. Besides, she had a hard time believing he was selfless enough to drag himself all the way to New Hampshire.

I'm on my way. I'm on my way.

Whatever I can do to help.

Liv.

"Oh my God," she murmured. A civilian now, he had to get a different phone and she didn't blame him for changing the number. She read the message again and heard his voice repeating the words.

It was Ed.

…..

Once the former Captain was seated and served a pre-flight bourbon, he pulled out his phone and typed, deleted, and retyped drafts of texts to Olivia. If all went well, he would arrive in New York well after Noah had been safely rescued and returned home, but Ed Tucker was trained to consider and assess all possible scenarios. Though he had the utmost confidence in his former girlfriend, Noah's grandmother, per Fin's description, was a wild card and nobody was sure what she would do if cornered. Ed tilted his wrist and checked his silver watch; Olivia would probably be landing as his flight was taking off. She would then be consumed with her semi-rogue mission, and have no time to answer his inquiries.

Maybe he would send her a brief message. Just to let her know he was on his way. And thinking of her. And when he landed, if she and Noah were not reunited, he would do anything he could to make it happen.

But why?

Why reach out again?

Why did he even bother with the extra cost of changing his flight plans and haphazardly shoving his belongings into his suitcase and giving his daughter a hurried hug and kiss goodbye before practically sprinting to the waiting Uber?

He hadn't spoken to Olivia since last summer, and she hadn't sounded happy to hear from him.

….

Ed followed a resident into Olivia's building and was shocked to see the doorman standing dutifully at his post and free from distractions. Ed nodded cordially and stepped toward the elevator, but the doorman stopped him.

"The Lieutenant just left. In a hurry."

Wondering if Olivia had instructed building staff to block any of Ed's efforts to visit her, Ed backed way without protest. He asked for a piece of paper and a pen and quickly scribbled a note. He placed the paper in the bag with the stuffed elephant and handed it to the doorman.

"See that she gets this, okay?"

"Will do."

Ed walked back out into the muggy July afternoon and found himself wishing he were back in Namibia. He'd spent the past ten days as third wheel, tagging along with his daughter and her boyfriend on safari in Etosha National Park. Ed had initially refused the offer, and the original proposal had included Olivia and Noah.

"Dad! We got a great deal on this resort, right in the park, it's kid friendly! I know Noah has a passport, why don't you three come too!"

Two months after the breakup, Ed had to finally break the news to his daughter. It was the first time he'd verbalized it, and the words cut a new wound where the old one was beginning to heal. He remembered his daughter falling silent, probably wondering why he'd taken so long to tell her and also searching for some type of compassionate reasoning about why this was, perhaps, for the best.

"All the more reason for you to come then," she said, "Get your mind off it."

The last time Ed had been on a long flight was the trip to Paris, so he wasn't confident in the journey's diversionary purposes, but he was retired, had vowed to travel more, and had nothing else to do.

He went and had a much better time than he'd predicted. The weather was perfect, the excursions into the park were spectacular, and the evenings were peaceful. There was a communal gathering area in the courtyard of their hotel, and they spent hours after dinner listening to live, local music.

For a while, he was able to "get his mind off it."

Then, on their last full day, new visitors arrived-two young couples and one family of four. At night the kids wildly ran around, winding their way in and out of the lounge chairs and metal tables. However, the youngest one, weary from travel, tired quickly and retreated to his mother's lap. Ed's path inside to his room took him near the family and he noticed the little one clutching a stuffed elephant. The next day, Ed found the souvenir in the gift shop and immediately purchased it for Noah. It was unlike any of his other toys, and even though the little boy's memories of him were probably fading, the idea of giving him one last present comforted Ed.

….

Finding a taxi driver willing to drive to Franconia proved to be challenging. Olivia impatiently badgered the taxi stand attendant, incredulous that any of the drivers were allowed to pick and choose where they transported passengers. Even when the attendant found someone, he warned her about the exorbitant fare. Olivia glared at him and slammed the door.

Grateful for the driver's silence, Olivia stared at the scenery as they ascended into the mountains. So far, the winter had been without significant snowfall. There were no lingering remnants of the state's vaunted fall colors; everything was brown, barren, and uninviting. They passed a few shacks visible from the road, and Olivia felt a new round of panic burning in her chest. Earlier she acknowledged that even though Sheila taking Noah was horrifying, there was a silver lining. At least she wouldn't hurt him. But seeing these rudimentary structures filled Olivia's imagination with terrible images. Was Noah cold? Shivering? Had he eaten? Did he have water? Was he in a bed?

Panic briefly turned to rage and Olivia stared at her gun.

…..

Tucker's flight landed in Newark a few minutes before eight a.m. and he immediately called Fin. The detective picked up and informed him Noah had been safely recovered without incident, Sheila was in custody, and Olivia and Noah were on their way back to New York with Rollins and Carisi. He apologized for bothering Tucker.

"Something told me…you should know," Fin explained.

"Sure," Tucker replied, "Thanks."

He gave the driver his address and sat back in the middle of the backseat, debating what to do next. Understandably, Olivia hadn't responded to his message. Maybe she hadn't received it—he'd sent it from the air, using the airplane's wifi. But there was no error message and his texts to his daughter arrived successfully.

Tucker groaned. He hadn't cut his trip short for nothing. Steeling himself for more rejection, he called Olivia.

…..

The thank-you call began without opening pleasantries. "Hey," she said, sounding like she was in a hurry. "Thank you for the elephant. He loves it."

"You're welcome, I—"

"I told him it was from you," she continued, "That was…difficult."

"I, uh…" Ed stammered. He hadn't considered the gift's problematic implications. "Sorry, I, uh, wasn't thinking."

Ignoring the apology, Olivia said, "He named it Eddie."

Was she trying to completely obliterate his heart?

He breathed in sharply and did his best to sound aloof. "It won't happen again."

"Ed," she sighed, suddenly contrite, "I didn't mean…I wasn't prepared for…more questions…about you."

"Like I said," he muttered, "It won't happen again. Bye, Liv."

….

After the patrol car disappeared around the bend, Olivia carried Noah to the waiting SUV without bothering to reenter the cabin for Noah's shoes or any other belongings. They settled in the back seat, and Carisi and Rollins successfully led lighthearted small talk, creating for Noah the allusion that nothing was wrong. Nevertheless, both detectives snuck glances at their Lieutenant, and they knew it would take her a while, if not a lifetime, to recover from the terror of the past twenty-four hours.

Noah began the ride excitedly peering outside. Spotting deer apparently satisfied his curiosity and he rested against Olivia for the final two hours. The SUV fell silent until they were about twenty miles from the city.

"Lieutenant," Carisi said, "We'll take you home then finish the reports, have the precinct Lieutenant at Manhattan South file them. Nobody'll know you're involved."

"Thanks," Olivia replied softly. Deep down she was furious at Chief Dodds and almost wanted him to find out she'd ignored his directive. How dare he ask her to stand down? Hadn't he been one of the first on scene when Munson held Mike hostage?

"It's all over," Rollins said, doing her best to sound comforting.

"I'm going to…take some time," Olivia said, "Fin'll take over, but…thank you, both of you, for everything. You did a great job."

"More than a job, Lieu," Sonny said, "Nobody messes with family."

"That's right," Rollins added. "Nobody."

…..

At home, Olivia changed a sleepy Noah out of the too-big pajamas and into a pair of his own. He stirred and his head lolled about. He mumbled about pancakes and spaghetti and deer. Olivia rocked him for a while, holding him like a baby. She closed her eyes and was close to dozing off herself when a noise jerked her wide-awake. Instantly realizing it was the ice maker, she nevertheless needed several deep breaths. When she sufficiently calmed down, she carried Noah to his bed. He turned on his side, settling in against his pillow though most of his head rested on Eddie the Elephant.

Eddie.

The text.

The missed calls.

Never one to put much stock in abstract symbolism or the metaphysical, Olivia couldn't help but smile a little at the thought that Eddie had been with Noah all along.

It was not yet noon, but Olivia opened a bottle of wine and poured a small portion into a regular juice glass. She hadn't turned on the baby monitor for at least a year, but she did so now, reentering Noah's room to power on the camera and carrying the iPad to the coffee table.

The first call to Ed went unanswered. At first she suspected he ignored it on purpose but immediately dismissed the thought. He wouldn't do that. She waited several minutes.

I'm on my way back.

Back from where? Probably from a visit with his daughter, but, considering he'd been to Africa, it was quite possible he'd jetted back to New York from another exotic locale. All that for her and for her son.

Whatever I can do to help, I'll do.

The last time they spoke, she'd been so rude to him. She didn't deserve this type of grace. But then again, it was for Noah, not her.

Noah.

Explaining Ed's absence had been easy at first. She'd been able to deflect Noah's inquiries with "not today" and "he's not here" and "maybe some other time" until he stopped asking questions altogether. But when he learned the elephant was from Ed, and Olivia pointed out on a map where the present had come from, the questions regarding Ed's whereabouts began anew. Older now, Noah did not relent as easily as he'd done a year ago.

Olivia cringed.

She'd eliminated Noah's opportunity to have a Daddy. In a moment of feeling hopelessly overwhelmed, Olivia had jumped the gun and cut Ed out of their lives. And right when she thought she'd moved on, the elephant showed up, reminding her how much she missed Ed.

And as it turned out, Noah did, too.

Ed called back and Olivia immediately launched into an apology which Ed dismissed as unnecessary. Olivia minced words at first, mumbling vague phrases, but, as if she spontaneously realized she was talking to the man she'd trusted with all her heart and soul, the floodgates opened and she rambled. She briefly explained Sheila's entrance into their lives, berated herself for trusting her, described the frantic search for her son, and when she finally paused to catch her breath, apologized for the verbal barrage.

"Damn, Liv. I…there's been so much goin' on."

"That's not even the whole story," she muttered. "But…I'm sure you don't want to listen to more of this. Ed, I really appreciate you…coming back to New York, wanting to be here when I was so…so terrible to you before."

Ignoring the latter comment, Ed replied, "I'll listen to whatever you want to tell me."

This made Olivia feel even worse, but she wasn't ready for more disclosure. She was exhausted and edgy and needed quiet.

"I know," she said, "But I…he's sleeping right now and I can't stand to have him out of my sight. I, uh, I'll call you sometime this week?"

"Sure. Take care, Liv."

Olivia went back to Noah's room and watched him sleep from the rocking chair.

At his apartment, Ed poured a bourbon, assuming "I'll call you sometime this week" was the emptiest of all promises.

…

#Tuckson