A/N: So this story has completely gotten away from me (lucyspencer is partially to blame, too, along with my sheer procrastination with LSAT preparation because logic isn't very logical - js). Anyways, what was supposed to be a two shot has turned into a three-shot (because it will only be a three shot, this I promise myself) and an almost prequel (Do you want to know how the lovely Stablers got to this lovey dovey point?)

Anyways, enjoy and the next part will be rated M. This part is all fluff and humor with a tiny weenie bit pg-13 (if that) smut at the end.

I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: If you recognise it, it's not mine.

It's My Party

(Part 2)

"Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god..." repeats Olivia as she paces her bedroom floor. Her heart is thumping madly and there's an acute headache building between her temples.

Twice.

She's been caught twice trying to get her rocks off with her husband. This time the whole damn world might as well have been watching her as she shimmied out of her underwear and damn near molested her husband in plain view. The more she thought about it, the more she considered arresting herself. What the hell was wrong with her? It was the day, her stupid birthday – a cursed day.

That was the only conceivable explanation. Usually she wasn't this overzealous, this eager to shed her clothes and throw all caution to the wind, but today… there was just something about today.

A knock shakes her from her thoughts and Elliot pokes his head in through their bedroom door. A grin pulls at the corner of his lips and his brows crinkle together, as if he's trying not to laugh. "You okay?" he asks, walking into the room and shutting the door behind him.

Olivia turns on him, crossing the few feet to where he stands. Her palms land flat against his chest and she pushes on him, acutely aware of the height difference sans her heels she'd torn off her feet as soon as she'd reached her bedroom. "Why are you up here? They probably think I'm trying to jump your bones again! Why didn't you tell me? I wouldn't have..."

Elliot holds his arms up in surrender. "Liv, I tried to - it doesn't even matter, not really."

She levels him with a glare and drops her arms to her sides.

"Here, you left these downstairs…" he reaches into his pocket and pulls out her underwear, the lacy red material hanging from his calloused and scarred fingers teasingly; the grin that hangs at the corner of his lips spreads across his face.

Olivia's eyes widen in horror and she snatches the thong from him, a snarl ripping loose from her throat. "You sonofabitch . . . our five year old daughter saw us! Twice! Your ex-wife! My brother! Your kids! Fin, Munch, Casey, Alex, Melinda...the rookies! Oh god, Don..." she throws herself down on her bed, burying her face in two of the thousands of pillows that littered their bed and screams.

Yup, death by mortification was definitely a thing.

A stinging sensation shakes her backside and her head snaps up.

"Did you just swat my ass?"

"Maybe I did." Elliot teases as he flops down on bed next to her, and plays with the hem of her dress before dipping underneath it. His fingers graze along the back of her left thigh and Olivia forces herself to suppress a moan at his machinations. "So, a couple people saw that you still have a sex drive at your old age..."

"Fuck you." Olivia hisses, her face red, flushed, as she turns over, shoving his hands away and yanking on the hem of her dress to pull it down.

"You've been trying to all day."

In that moment she hates him, hates him with a burning passion, and wants nothing more than to knock him upside his head.

"You're an ass."

"Yet, you married me."

"My mistake. Y'know, Bri was down there, too. But I guess since he's seen it all, you're –"

"I don't know why that dumb-ass showed up." Elliot snaps, blue eyes darkening and he sits up, the vein in his neck throbbing ever so slightly – almost undetectable to the untrained eye. If it wasn't for the sixteen years she'd known her husband, Olivia might have missed it too.

It was no secret that Elliot wasn't a fan of the former SVU detective - and Olivia's ex-boyfriend (an ex-boyfriend she'd once entertained the idea of possibly marrying). She knew Elliot's suddenly rigid, defensive position was due in part to jealousy. After Harris and after Sealview, Cassidy had been her port, a failsafe in the storm that had become her life. A chance meeting in a bar with Fin and some of his old narcotics buddies had brought the one-time one-night-stand back into her life, and they'd found common ground; and she had loved him, but wasn't in love with him.

"Who made the guess list for the surprise party I was adamant I didn't want? If that was some sick joke on your part..."

"Dickie. I gave him your phone; I didn't know you had his number still in there. And for your information, your daughter was adamant that we throw you a surprise party – with all of 'mommy's fwiends.'"

Olivia softened at the mention of Grace, the pique of annoyance turning to intrigue. "Gracie was in on this?"

"In on it? She spearheaded it, Liv. Do you remember last Monday when she didn't want you to tuck her in; she wanted me?"

The sting of rejection Olivia had felt when her daughter had turned her away in favor of her father is still fresh in Olivia's memory. She nods.

"She wanted me because she wanted to plan you a surprise so that you weren't sad on your birthday –again. The decorations – the cake – the surprise party in general, it was all her idea. She's an evil genius, that one. I didn't go to work earlier. I went down to help, well pay for your gift – which Gracie picked out by herself…"

Tears sting the corner of Olivia's eyes and her bottom lip trembles, her heart swells and she just wants to snuggle her daughter; hold Grace tightly and whisper her undying devotion and love into the little girl's soft, lavender scented hair. It was true, children remembered everything and paid far more attention than most adults gave them credit for.

"Gracie did this?"

"Yeah, Liv; with help, of course. Why else do you think she's been so quiet today? She was trying not to squeal."

"I thought she was getting sick from all that sugar she had this morning…"Olivia says, voice heavy as she wipes at her eyes. "She did all of this for me?"

"She did. You're her mother, and she loves you."

/

After changing into a pair of dark-wash jeans and an oversized navy blue sweater, Olivia made her way down stairs, refusing to be embarrassed any longer.

She was a sexual being of a certain age; she had nothing to be embarrassed about. Or so she kept telling herself.

What kept her feet moving towards her living room, towards a horde of people who'd literally caught her with her pants down, was her daughter – the baby-girl she thought she'd never have.

Descending the stairs at a glacial pace, Olivia smiles as the sounds of soft laughter, holiday music (no doubt her daughter's doing), and giggling children hits her ears.

Her fingers curl around the hem of her top and she takes a deep breath, passing through the living room and heading for the dinning room. Everyone seems to be lost in conversation – too engrossed with the latest of hot topics to notice her as she enters the room and takes it all in.

Her entire house has been re-arranged to make room for the many people shoved inside. Her dinning room table is shoved against the wall and covered in a white tablecloth; finger foods of all assortments line the top. There's a banner decorated in white, pastel purple, and pastel blue that hangs along the wall; instead of reading 'Happy Birthday Olivia' it reads 'Happy Birthday Mommy' and Olivia fondly recalls when Grace had found out Olivia's name wasn't Mommy, but Olivia.

"Why did daddy call you Oh-leave-e-uh?

Because that's mommy's name.

No, it's mommy.

To you, baby, but to everyone else, I'm Olivia. Y' know, like you're Gracie?

But who named you Ooo-Leave-e-uh?

My mommy – your grandmother - did.

What was her name?

Serena.

Did her mommy name her?

Mhmmm.

I like that name. Can I call my dolly it?

If you want to, baby.

Can I call you Oh-leave-e-uh?

Never. I'm mommy to you and I always will be.

"Mommy's back!" Grace shouts, abandoning her cousins mid conversation, and breaking into a sprint and running straight for her mother. The sound of her voice tears Olivia from her thoughts, and the little girl launches her tiny body into her mother's arms. She smells like lavender, sugar, cinnamon, and a scent that is uniquely Grace, one that Olivia adored.

"Are you surpised, mommy?" Grace eagerly questions, as she reaches a tiny hand out to push back a fly away, unruly piece of hair that refuses to stay tucked behind Olivia's ear.

"Yeah, baby, I am." Olivia tells her truthfully, jostling Grace until she's resting on her right hip.

"Are you happy?"

"Yeah, baby, I am. Daddy said you did this all for me, all on your own…"

"Oh daddy." Gracie shakes her head as if she's exasperated with her father. "He helpt. So did Katie and Mo, and Lizzie and Kafy and Ditie. Eli even helpt. Grandpa Don gave me monies too…"

"He did, did he?" Olivia asks, chancing a glance across the room at her former captain who is currently locked in idle chitchat with none other than Brian Cassidy.

"Yup, he said 'Gracie this is for mommy's gift," Olivia has to bite down on her lip to stop from laughing as Grace's voice changes octaves and her eyebrows nit together in an attempt to mimic the old man,"and handed me monies."

"How about we go thank Grandpa Don, then?"

"Okay!"

Together they head towards the Captain, but a collective 'Happy Birthday' from the entire room stops Olivia in her tracks. Next thing she knows the lights are down and everyone is crowding around her singing; off key and out of sync the sounds of Happy Birthday float through air.

Elliot appears then carrying a sheet cake with too many candles to count on top of it, grinning and singing.

I hate you, Olivia mouths at him, her grip on Grace's legs tightening as the little girl claps and cheers; her smile matching that of her father's.

No you don't, Elliot mouths back, the room grows somewhat quiet and Grace shouts 'Blow out the cantles, mommy!'

Olivia prepares to comply, but isn't afforded the chance. Munch cuts her off, wearing that devilish grin across his face.

"Yeah, hurry up, Liv before we have to call the fire department. That's a lot of candles."

"Shut up, Munch." She snaps good-naturedly, brown eyes narrowing on her long time friend.

"I'll take that lovely reply as an answer to my earlier pontifications about what you two were doing upstairs after that beautiful entrance."

"Hey man, that's my sister," comes Simons voice amongst the crowd.

Olivia opens her mouth in rebuttal when she's once again cut short.

"Then you should be more than happy for her. After years of not getting any, she gets it on demand." Casey quips from the corner soliciting laughter from the majority of the room.

"You ever wonder if they did it on your desk, Cap?" Munch adds and Olivia can feel the heat in her cheeks. She wants to turn around and shove the entire cake in Munch's face to get him to shut up.

"Ten bucks says they hit the cribs," Fin retorts from somewhere in the abyss of people and the laughter grows, intermittently mixed with sounds of 'eww' and 'that's just wrong' presumably from Elliot's kids, the Captain, and Simon.

"I can answer that!" Alex adds teasingly and Olivia's thankful that the lights are off, her hair is hanging over her bright red ears, and that crime of passion is an actual thing because she wants to kill them all.

"Alright there's kids in the room you perverts." Elliot shouts. "And this cake isn't getting any lighter…"

"Yeah, Liv. Blow." Munch snickers and Olivia swears that she's surrounded by puberty stricken and hormonal driven teens instead some of Manhattan's former and current finest. She's going to kill them all.

Nonetheless, she looks at Grace whose tiny arms are wrapped around her neck and speaks. "Wanna help momma, baby?"

Grace doesn't get the chance to answer, though, because Mr. Elliot Jr pipes up, huffing, "Can we move any faster? I'm not getting any younger here people. I want cake!"

"Me, too!" Olivia's nephew Ty adds.

"Be twiet, Eli. It's mommy's birfday."

And now it's the children's turn to argue and Olivia just shakes her head.

"It's birth-" Eli doesn't get the opportunity to finish his words because Elizabeth is wrapping a hand around the youngest of the Stabler boys' mouth.

"Go on Liv. Make a wish." Elizabeth encourages and Olivia takes a deep, calming breath. Almost six years living life like this, and she still wasn't used to the constant stimulation of different personalities and people.

She'd been alone for so long…

"We count to tree, mommy?" Grace suggests, holding up three fingers and Olivia nods, marveling at how the ordered chaos was just perfect for her daughter.

"1, 2, 3!"

/

Empty paper plates and plastic cups litter the floor. Seasonal music plays in the background and the moonlight peaks in through the partially opened curtains of the bay window.

The party is split down the middle with the majority of the adults paired off and in deep in conversation. Maureen is discussing something with her mother's longtime boyfriend and mother, in the corner while Dickie dangles Ty and Eli's toys over their heads. Lizzie and Kathleen are idly chatting with Alex and Casey; Fin and Melinda are covertly in the corner, flirting the night away. The poor rookies – Amanda and Nick – have been cornered by Munch, no doubt to listen to the latest in his conspiracy theories; Tracey and Simon are in their own world while their snoozing daughter sleeps on her mother's chest. Both Don and Elliot stand off to the side, Grace in front of them, her little arms flying in air animatedly.

Olivia stands against her fireplace, in her living room, sipping eggnog and just watching; observing, and taking it all in because it hits her then, everyone is here for her.

She's so lost in amazement, in wonder, that she doesn't even realize that someone is watching her until Brian saddles up next to her. He's dressed head to toe in black, and there's a grin on his face; she has to admit (even if only to herself) he looks good; time's done him well.

It's been just about six years since they've spoken, and Olivia wonders if there's any resentment on his end. Twice they'd started a relationship, just for her to run in the opposite direction under the threat of something serious. The first time she'd ran because, while she wasn't able to admit it then, she was married to the job. The second time she'd been in love, deeply and irrevocably in love, with someone else.

"So, in all of the houses in all of Queens, you decided to show up at mine?" Olivia jokes, angling her body towards him as she embellishes on a Casablanca quote.

"Well, what can I say, guess I'm a glutton for punishment…" his voice is gruff, smooth and smoky, just as she remembers it.

"You always have been." Olivia smiles ruefully, thinking about how she'd hurt him more than once over the years. "How are you, Bri? Really?"

"Bri, huh? I haven't heard that in a minute." he smiles fondly. "I'm okay, Liv. Doing good."

"I see you made sergeant over at narcotics. Mr. Hot Shot…got a missus?"

"Subtle there, Liv. Is your old age messing with your memory? Don't know what a polite question is or isn't?" he asks and Olivia knows he's joking by the way his eyes crinkle and a faint smile tugs at his lips.

"We're the same age, you ass."

"There's my, girl."

A roll of her coffee flecked eyes met his comment. "So, is there?"

"No, not right now… there have been a few here and there. Last one I fell in love with left her boot prints across my heart. She taught me a pretty tough lesson. I learned you can't look for love, it just hits you."

She doesn't have to be a rocket science to know that he's alluding to her. The personal validity in his words doesn't go un-noted either.

Falling in love with Elliot had been like riding a roller coaster: the climb to the top was slow and predictable. He'd been her friend, her rock; the one person who was there for her with no strings attached. And then Gitano happened and they'd reached the point of no return, the peak of the coaster and momentum took over. Together they were plunged deep into the twists and turns, curves and loops of love, kicking and screaming, hearts beating fast and nothing in their control.

"Let's be honest, Bri..."Olivia responds, brushing back a mahogany lock that insists on lingering in her dark lashes. "If I had said yes, we wouldn't have been happy." Brian nods, laughing lightly though there's no humor to his voice. Almost six years ago he had given her a choice, asked her a question while down on one knee that she hadn't expected at all.

I can make you happy, Liv, if you'll just let me. Marry me? And she almost had.

The 'no' wasn't immediate; instead she had truly considered becoming Mrs. Olivia Benson-Cassidy. She'd held onto the Tiffany's box that had contained his grandmother's ring for almost a week before giving back to him.

"You're right." Brian agrees, leaning forward to brush the rebel lock into place once again. His fingertips brush against her cheekbone as he tucks it into place. "You would've been forever hung up on the incredible hulk over there..."

Olivia turns to see Elliot, his blue eyes fixed on them, appraising, sizing up, and scrutinizing. She can tell that he's exercising copious amounts of self-restraint too; from the way he grinds his jaw and the intensity of his stare. He's one possessive bastard who doesn't like to share. Wrapped around his left leg is a giggling Grace and he's parading her back and forth, along the floor to the tune of Jingle Bell Rocks.

"I would've." Olivia confirms without hesitation. "He and that little girl are my world. But that doesn't mean I didn't love you, either, Bri. I just wasn't in love with you. Look, six years ago I was in a bad place – a bad way and you helped me out of it, more than you'll ever know, and I want you to know that I want you to be happy. You deserve someone who loves you – who is in love with you as much as I am with El. You're a good man, Bri." To cement her point, she closes the space between their bodies and kisses him softly on the cheek, his stubble tickles her lips.

She's happy to see a genuine smile on Brian's face as she steps back.

He nods, leaning against the dead fireplace. His eyes search the mantle and he stares at the pictures that are mostly of Grace and the rest of the Stabler children. "I'm glad you're happy, Liv. If anyone deserves to be happy, it's you."

"Thank you."

"Even if it is with the thing."

She swats at him then, careful not to spill her drink. "That's my husband."

"Yeah, poor you." he shakes his head in mock pity, ruefully sighing. "Anyways, what's going on with Casey? Is she seeing anyone?"

/

Solitude. Quiet. She finds it by escaping through her sliding glass doors that lead out onto the deck and into her backyard. The air is cool and crisp, the night is dark and surprisingly comforting; snow drifts towards the ground in flakes.

It's been one hell of a day and one hell of a night full of sexcapades, old-boyfriends, family, friends, and surprises. People who were currently packed into her house having animate conversations, singing, dancing, laughing all in celebration of her.

She just needed a moment; a moment to take it all in, but more importantly, Olivia needed a moment alone, to do something she hadn't done in ages: talk to her mother.

Chancing a quick glance behind her, Olivia wraps her arms around her midsection. She bites down on her bottom lip and takes a deep breath in, woefully admitting to herself that this is harder than she'd originally thought. Almost every conversation she'd had with her mother whilst Serena was alive had ended in an argument.

"Hey, mom…" Olivia whispers, gazing up towards the sky. "Long time since we last talked, huh? I think Gracie was three or four – remember? I thought I was going to lose her . . ." she pauses, biting down hard on her bottom lip to keep herself from sobbing at the mere memory of Grace's first asthma attack; the terror that had gripped her when Grace stopped breathing.

"But I didn't and she'll be six in June. I like to think that you had something to do with that…" Tears roll down her face and the taste of salt sinks into her tongue. "I like to think that, had you been alive you would have loved Gracie like you couldn't love me. There's so much love inside that little girl. So much that it's bursting at the seams. I think she would've stolen your heart, taken it and ran for the hills because she sure as shit stole mine." Another pause and Olivia chews on the inside of her cheek, thinking back to the day she'd found out that she was pregnant.

At forty-one –turning forty-two –she'd given up on ever having her own child. The bouts of sickness and the fainting spells she'd chalked up to lack of sleep and stress since. It wasn't until she'd worked a stakeout with Fin and she'd promptly fainted, that he'd dragged her to the hospital (kicking and screaming) that she discovered Grace growing inside of her.

You brought me to a hospital, Fin? I was out for two minutes!

You were out for ten, now sit yo' stubborn ass back down on that stretcher.

Mrs. Benson?

Ms. Benson.

Have you been having any bouts of nausea lately? Have certain smells been getting to you? Tenderness of the breasts? Feeling narcoleptic?

I, uhm… I don't, I mean yes and no. There's been a bug going around at work and I think I may have picked it up. It's just the 24-hours flu or something though I'll be fine.

You don't have the flu, Ms. Benson. You're pregnant.

I'm what?

Pregnant. Judging by your hormone levels, I'm going to guess about six to eight weeks.

"She's the best thing that's ever happened to me, mom. And she loves me so openly. I just wish that you had let me love you like that. I tried too; I tried so hard. But you refused me…and I don't blame you – not any more, at least. I blame him. I just wish; I wished you had seen how much I loved you – that I still love you. …

Anyways, I'm forty-seven today, which you probably already know. I've been called old about ninety times today, but it doesn't bother me. I like where I'm at right now. I have a beautiful daughter I fall more in love with each day and my husband… he helped save me from myself.

I know you remember Elliot. You called him a self-righteous with a savior complex…well I guess we fit together perfectly. He's a savior and I've been told a few times over I'm a suffragette - a martyr, so…" Olivia chuckles.

"I ran from him for so long. Ran until I couldn't run any more. I even ran to Oregon of all fucking places. But we're good now. I let him love me, which was pretty damn hard. It was hard to let anyone love me, really. I thought I didn't deserve it, but El, he made me see that I did. And the first time I held Gracie – the unconditional love in those green eyes that she had for me…. I'm loved, momma. My baby loves me, and my brother – that's a story for another day; my step kids - I have five; Don… they love me. And I think you did, too. You just didn't know how to tell me. Anyways, I should go back inside. I just wanted to tell you that I'm doing okay and that I'm sorry. I couldn't save you, mom, and I'm slowly starting to see that it wasn't my place to save you – but I did manage to save myself. I love you, mom."

Her brown eyes stay trained on the sky, watching as the stars twinkle against the dimly lit Queen's backdrop and just once she wishes she could hear her mother's voice again. The winds whistle and Olivia cranes her neck against the sound just wishing to her that familiar sound she hadn't heard in so long.

But she gets nothing.

Instead of her mother's voice, though, she's afforded her husband's. "And I bet she loves you, too." Elliot's gruff bravado greets her, breaking through her thoughts; his warm breathing hits her ears, his arms wrapping around her waist, and his chin nuzzles into the crook of her neck.

She didn't even hear him open the sliding door. "How long have you been out here, listening to me talk to ghosts?"

"Did she really call me self-righteous with a savior complex?"

"Yeah, she did. It was during the Richard White…" the name alone causes Olivia to shudder. "I was pissed off because you insisted on accompanying me damn near everywhere those three days. Anyways, remember you had me flick my lights so that you knew I'd made it in?"

Elliot nods, his chin digging into her shoulder and she can feel his razor stubble against her skin. "Mhmmm."

"Well when I got upstairs my mom was waiting for me, it was our dinner night. She asked me why I was late and before I even got the chance to answer, you called. Asked me if I wanted you to circle back around and check things out before you drove home. I told you I could handle myself and before I knew it, my mom was in the window asking me what the cruiser looked liked. You'd already driven back around to check on me."

"So you saw me, then?"

"Yeah, and I watched you sit there for about twenty minutes or so, too. My mom asked me, and I quote 'how long is that self-righteous partner of yours with the savior complex going to stalk you'?"

"I wasn't stalking you! I was making sure the stalker wasn't stalking you…"

Olivia wiggles out of his grasp and turns into his arms, snuggling into his chest. Her arms come to rest around his neck and her nails brush against the thinning hair at the nape. "By stalking me. I was a grown woman, El. I knew how to take care of myself – and if you can remember that far back, I never let anyone take care of me."

Elliot rolls his ocean blue orbs, his warm breath hitting her cold skin and sending shivers down her spine, and he chuckles to himself. "It took almost ten years before you let me take care of you…"

They'd fought tooth and nail throughout her entire pregnancy about her inability to let others help her; they'd fought all the way up until their wedding day about that fact. She was better now, though, at letting others in; she knew she didn't always have to go in alone.

"I know. And I'm not sorry, either, but you knew what you were getting into."

"Yeah, I knew… so, I've had everyone from Melinda to Maureen offer to take Grace for the night. She's in there right now resting on Don's chest, sleepily telling him all about the Beauty and the Beast."

"Poor Don." Olivia laughs, though she knows that the man who's become her father over the years doesn't mind in the slightest, even if he was hearing the tale as old as time for the trillionth time.

"So what do you say we send her off then we finish what we started earlier?" For good measure he leans down, capturing her lips in his. He tugs on her bottom lip with his teeth, until she opens her mouth and he can run his tongue along hers. His hands trail underneath her sweater, his digits cool against her warm skin and she squirms, giggling into his kiss. "With baby away, mom and dad will play…"

They stand there for a few more moments, with roaming hands and searing kisses before Olivia finds the strength to stand back. She's breathing hard, lips swollen, and if she were a guy everyone would be able to see just how aroused she is.

"Looks like daddy is going to have to learn to be quiet because momma's baby is staying home tonight, birthday or not, I want my baby near me."

"But I wanted to do that thing to you over the kitchen counter…"

"You still can, you just can't scream."

"I think it's time everyone calls it a night."

"Me too."

..

Birthday: 4, Olivia: infinity.