I apologize for the slow pace of the story!
Four.
The usual place was a dive, Tucker's favorite type of bar, tucked away near his apartment in Hell's Kitchen in a quickly gentrifying neighborhood. Green paneling, which bowed out in some places, lined the walls of the narrow space. Dingy sconces, two large Michelob chandeliers, neon-lit advertisements, and multiple strings of Christmas lights illuminated the area. Even though smoking inside public establishments had been banned for years, the smell of cigarettes lingered. The clientele included a string of regulars whose barstools were on permanent reserve, semi-regulars like Tucker, and a smattering of PBR-swilling hipsters, aging academics, and newbies trying to keep it real. Places like this were increasingly being forced out by higher rents and more refined tastes; Tucker, ever the realist, mourned the day, probably in the near future, when the owners would inevitably shut the doors for good.
He chose a spot at the bar so he could keep one eye on the door and the other on the baseball game. The bartender delivered a double shot of bourbon with a single ice cube, Tucker's usual. The game was close, but he had a hard time paying attention to the action; instead he gazed across the dimly lit room, impatiently awaiting Olivia's arrival and hoping, even though it would be good for business, that the after-work crowd was not too heavy. The dive's only seating were the eleven or so barstools and five two-top tables and chairs arranged along the opposite wall. If the place swelled to standing room only, Olivia would probably want to leave rather than spend their time together wedged in the back corner. If they left, he wasn't so sure she would accept an invitation to his apartment.
Outside, the wind kicked up and the warm spring day descended into a chilly evening. Olivia pulled on her rain jacket and tightened the belt and shoved her hands in the pockets before crossing Ninth Avenue in a swarm of rush hour pedestrians. Brunette wisps escaped from her elastic hair tie and blew across her face. Olivia blinked and jerked her head to keep them out of her eyes. When she entered the bar, Tucker's instantly captured her from twenty feet away. It wasn't just that their eyes met; it was Tucker seizing her with his blue-eyed gaze, captivating her, inviting, no, drawing, her to the space he's created in that semi-crowded bar, laser focused, the moment, the bar, it was all created for them.
She smiled, feeling jittery. Those eyes—once menacing and hostile now sparkled with affection and tenderness. She knew two basic Ed Tucker looks. Both were carved on the same ruddy, chiseled template, but one was intimidating and stern, the other warm and caring. It was the former he used as IAB Ed, jaw clenched, cheeks slightly flared, and raw detachment in his eyes. The latter was less rigid, jaw relaxed, lips slightly pursed, and, depending on the situation, his eyes either danced with desire (as they did now as Olivia walked toward him) or expressed genuine concern.
He stood and hugged her, tightly, feeling the coolness of the evening still on her face and in her hair. "Olivia." He held her by the shoulders at arm's length. "I'm glad you could make it."
"Hi," she said brightly, briefly entertaining the idea of kissing his chiseled cheek, opting not to do it, then regretting it. God, she had to get better at spontaneity. "Have you been waiting long?"
"Just got here," Tucker waved the bartender over, "I haven't had one sip yet. Was waiting to toast with you."
"I'll have whatever that is," Olivia told the bartender sweetly, nodding in the direction of Tucker's drink. A second glass arrived quickly, and she held it up. "To spring?"
"To spring." He gave her a crooked smile. "Cheers." They clinked glasses and took the first sips of the strong bourbon, taking a second to absorb the initial burn. Tucker licked his lips. "Long day?"
"Not exactly. I had a late lunch then a session with the shrink." Tucker wasn't quite sure how to respond. Sensing this, Olivia continued, "I hadn't been there for a while. At least a month. It was good. I guess with everything going on, I should've been there more, not less."
"Everything ok?"
She took a deep breath. And another sip. Then another breath and a look around, as if she were worried someone was listening in on the conversation. But nobody was. There was no one within ten feet of them. "Everything is ok. And I think," another sip, "I think that makes me nervous."
"That's completely understandable. After all you've been through, to have the whole thing with..." Ed caught himself before he said his name.
Olivia helped him out, "Johnny D."
"…that scumbag, to have that over and to suddenly have nothing to worry about custody-wise, well, that is odd. I mean, I've never been through anything nearly as stressful, but I remember with Brooke and Sarah, when my ex-wife was using them as pawns in our divorce proceedings. When it was all over and I knew I wouldn't lose them, there was relief. But I was also on edge, waiting for the next crisis instead of appreciating what I'd just won."
Suddenly ushered in to the private backstory of Ed Tucker, Olivia was intrigued and probed for more information, "Do you feel like you lost time with them? Wasted it worrying?"
Tucker was forthcoming, "Yes. At first. I took them to Florida for Christmas. Went to Disney World, all of that. And at some point I was tired. They were old enough, twelve and fourteen, to go off on their own for a bit. They had a cell phone. So, I went and had a beer on a patio while they went on some rides. They were late getting back."
"How late?"
Tucker's fear, over a decade old, was very much alive within him. "About twenty minutes," his voice wavered a bit but quickly returned to normal, "and you know, twenty minutes, to a parent, is like twenty years. I was terrified. Finally, they showed up. They just got lost."
"They didn't use the phone?"
Tucker rolled his eyes and grimaced. "Twelve and fourteen. Said they just forgot they had it. So, I completely lost it with them. I got so angry, walked them right out of the park, had them both by the by the back of the neck, thinking about how I could have lost custody, or worse, lost them. I hardly spoke to them for the rest of the trip, and I never let them out of my sight. Everything they did was with me. They hated it. I ruined the trip. They hated me for the whole week. But all I could think about was, if I screwed up, I would miss their lives."
Olivia thought about the last time she visited Tucker's apartment. "I've seen their pictures. They look happy. You must have been forgiven." She spoke softly, in the way she would speak to an aggrieved parent in one of her precinct's interview rooms.
"I was. Kids bounce back. They're resilient. They probably wouldn't even remember it now unless I really pressed them." Tucker's eyes softened even more. He thought about Brooke and Sarah, his two beautiful daughters who were now independent young women with very little time for their father. He understood; he knew their lives were busy and they were committed to forging their own paths of success, but he also hoped, and he was pretty sure they knew, that if they called right now, he would indulge any request no matter how outlandish…or expensive. "I'm lucky it worked out, and then I figured out a new way to live, being separated from them but also being there for them. I was much happier, and so were they, once I made them my first priority rather than constantly prioritizing the damage control."
"Damage control," Olivia repeated, reflective. "I know that mode well."
"It's hard to work your way out of it," Tucker slid his arm around her waist and gently kissed her head, "but I'm here…if you want me to be. I can help, Olivia."
Those eyes again. Tucker stared at her intently, concerned, the way he looked at her when she first informed him that Amaro's shots killed Johnny D. Had this happened yesterday, before Dr. Lindstrom implored her to allow herself to be cared for, she probably would have brushed off Tucker's kind words, ordered another drink, and changed the subject. "Tucker," she said, her voice nearly a whisper.
"Ed."
"Ed," she resigned herself to this new reality of the non-IAB Tucker, the Tucker 2.0 who had recently flipped her world upside down and made her question what she'd previously considered to be a reliable set of instincts.
Tucker could have sworn he saw her literally let down her guard; her emotional armor crumbled right there on the floor of the bar, and she turned to him with eyes nearly spilling over with tears. "I don't want to push you away. It's just," she wiped a rogue tear, "this, us, is insane, so unexpected, I need to process it." She waited for a response, but he offered none. "And I want to talk. Really sit down and talk."
Tucker nodded, "Ok. Anytime. Whenever you want."
"But not here."
"Name the place."
Olivia finished her drink and checked the time. "I have to get home, but, will you come by later? I'll text you after Noah's asleep?"
"I'll be waiting." Tucker nearly exploded with relief. She wanted to see him. Tonight. Talk. Talking was good. They needed to talk. He thought they'd already talked after the incredible night at his apartment. He suspected parts of this conversation could potentially be excruciatingly difficult, yet he pledged to not leave her apartment until he told his side, the whole story. Ed Tucker knew the source of Olivia's hesitation was the past decade of IAB-SVU battles, but he also knew she was reasonable and capable of forgiveness. Nevertheless, Tucker couldn't help but feel slightly hurt, after all, they'd slept together, more than once. He didn't see their relationship as some ephemeral dalliance. Had she? He was under the impression their bad blood was relegated to the past, a time in their lives to look back on with regret and dismay, but certainly not something that should or would affect them now.
As he waded his way through silent confusion, Olivia leaned over and kissed him on his flushed left cheek. "I'll see you later."
Tucker ordered another drink, his last. He would leave after this one, get some dinner, and devise a strategy for walking Olivia out of her cloud of doubt, defense, and anxiety and into the protective bubble of a loving relationship, one both he and she desperately needed and deserved.