A/N: Ardent E/O 'shippers probably should skip this chapter.
Memphis BBQ Grille
104 John Street
Thursday, 15 July
Olivia did not mention the phone call to anyone. She did not mention the lunch arranged during the phone call to anyone. She did not tell anyone she was spending part of her day-off on a date.
It wasn't a date, not really... for one thing, it was for lunch, not dinner... and I had talked to him on the phone a couple of times—all work-related... and we did almost get caught in a lawsuit together... so it wasn't a date... it wasn't even a blind date... although I didn't know what he looked like or much of anything about him....
Because it wasn't a date, she chose a pair of tan slacks, a olive-green shirt open at the neck,and a cotton sweater in tan that served to ward off air conditioning. A knock-off mailbag purse on her shoulder held her weapon and shield case, its weight a reminder that, no matter how much shoptalk she might do with David Viks, Specialist Manager for New York City's Administration for Children's Services, this still was her day-off and it wasn't a date.
He said he wanted to thank me for helping with the Simma Woolridge case—Fred and Tammy's last case... he thought it was a big deal to pull that info together right after they went down, but it wasn't....
She also did not tell anyone her first impression of David Viks.
Damn, he's tall... six-six, six-seven, two hundred-fifty pounds, sandy blond hair, ice blue eyes, no ring, really great smile... makes him look a lot less intimidating....
Nor did she tell anyone how lunch was followed by a stroll to City Hall Park and a long conversation on a bench by the fountain.
Light stuff... odd cases worked... odd coworkers... some family history... his aunt taught in the same department as my mother.... his mother took off to join a commune when he was six... his dad worked two jobs and his aunt helped raised him... that means we probably ran into each other when we were little... English Lit. Christmas parties or some thing... neither of us remembers it, though....
She definitely did not tell anyone how the long conversation led to bowling at an alley in Greenwich Village....
We started discussing sports that look easy—golf, bicycle racing, bowling... neither one of us had ever been bowling so we decided to see if it really was as easy as it looks... Dave and I did the whole bit—rented shoes, gaudy marble-swirled balls popping out of the floor on the ball return, scores displayed on a screen above us, a pitcher of beer, cheeseburgers and onion rings—they had healthier food, but it didn't fit the mood... Dave and I spent hours there and yes, bowling is a lot harder than it looks....
Sometime during their second beers and their third game—the one in which their combined scores totaled 115—Dave pulled out photos of his kids.
"Danielle is ten; she's really into soccer and basketball. Lars is seven; he wants to design Lego sets when he grows up."
The two children, both with their father's height, blue eyes, and sandy hair, made Olivia smile.
When Dave returned from throwing another gutter ball, Olivia asked about his wife.
Might as well get that out in the open....
"Ann died of complications of pregnancy five years ago," Dave said with a trace of sorrow in his voice. "My dad lives with us and handles the nanny duties for me."
Olivia paused while reaching for her ball.
"Really?" she said, the word turned into a weapon by the hint of sarcasm in her voice. "That's rare nowadays."
And I just went into cop-mode...
Dave leaned toward her, his gaze searching her face. Olivia grabbed her ball and struggled to slide her fingers into its three holes under his scrutiny. Finally, she dropped it back on the rack and faced him.
"I'm sorry, Dave. I hear so many lies on the job, I have to force myself not to question unexpected euphemisms."
Viks held his focus on her face for a second longer then his lips formed a wry smile.
"I know what you mean. I hear the same sort of lies from some of our clients."
He picked up Olivia's bowling ball.
"'Complications' sounds better than 'she choked on her own vomit during a bout of morning sickness,' which is what really happened. I'd already left for work, but the kids were home with her. Danielle found Ann and she called 911, but...."
As his voice trailed off, the scene sprang forth complete in Olivia's mind: a five-year-old girl leaning over her mother's body, wondering why Mommy wasn't moving or answering.
How awful! And his daughter did exactly what she was supposed to do, but it didn't help....
"I'm sorry, Dave. I shouldn't have asked."
He handed over her bowling ball, and waved away her apology.
"Don't be. It would have come up sooner or later. You going to knock a pin down this time?"
I knocked four down—unfortunately, they were the four in the middle and I followed up with a gutter ball... we both were very good at gutter balls....
She did not mention to anyone her promise to attend Danielle's soccer game on Sunday. She did not explain how, when she offered Dave her hand as they parted for the evening, he held it in both of his and told her he would be counting the hours until Sunday.
No one does that anymore... even if I told someone, they'd never believe it....
All she told Elliot, when he asked about her day-off, was "It was okay," but something warm in her voice and something bright in her eyes told him the real story.
