Rating: this part, K+

Disclaimer: Characters are property of Dick Wolf, NBC et al.

Spoilers: Pretty much everything's up for grabs

Pairing(s): Elliot/Olivia, Elliot/Kathy

Summary: There's nothing wrong with taking a second chance. This chapter contains two mini post-eps for "Swing".

A/N: My thanks to those who have taken the time to review thus far, especially those who've given feedback.


Part Five

2014

A week later, Olivia enters her office to find a large envelope sitting in the middle of her desk. It's clearly been placed for maximum visibility, its serious yellow length demanding her immediate attention. Picking up the unidentified packet, she turns it over and over in her hands then calls to a conveniently passing uni.

"Hey. Officer Keane."

The sandy-haired officer sticks her head through her door. "Yes, Sarge?"

Olivia holds up the envelope. "Did you see who dropped this off?"

"Yes, Sarge," she replies in that typical rat-a-tat police manner, "Said she was a friend of yours."

Her brows lift. "A woman dropped it off?

"Young woman. Blonde hair. Seemed to know the place."

"She give you a name?"

"No, ma'am."

"'Kay." She gives the younger officer a nod of dismissal. "Thanks."

The uni moves on and Olivia heads over to close the door, opening the envelope on her way back to her desk. Inside are a clutch of photocopies with a post-it note stuck to the top page. The post-it reads simply For Olivia, underneath which is a fluidly penned K. She peels the note off and scans the papers underneath. They contain all the legalese required for the dissolution of a marriage and at the bottom of each page is her ex-partner's signature. Beside it, each time, is his ex-wife's. They didn't sign just once but several times. She flips through the pages, each time finding both signatures, neither of them scrawled in hast, but both very carefully transcribed.

Kathy's signature is dated 2006. Elliot's is dated 2007, a full seven years earlier.

-x-

2008

Her comment about his cuteness as a carrot had him stumped. He stood on the threshold of the courtroom for several seconds, attempting to decode it. Elliot didn't like mysteries – that's why he became a detective, to rid the world of them. By the time he'd formed a half-decent hypothesis regarding the curious carrot comment though, his partner was gone. He had to jog to catch up with her, doing so on the crowded courthouse steps.

"You did this," he said, falling into step beside her.

Olivia still wore that tiny, secretive smile. "Did what?"

"I don't know," he said, eyes on her face as they descended the stone steps. "But you fixed this. Somehow." After a few more steps, he stopped her, one hand on the bend of her elbow. "How? How did you…what did you…?"

"You're not the only one who can keep secrets," was her enigmatic reply.

His head shook in bemusement, in awe. "I couldn't fix this. Kathy couldn't…the lawyers, judges…"

She gave a little shrug. "Sometimes you just need someone objective."

His bemusement faded, his mouth tugging downward and his eyes tapering. There was the tiniest trace of reproach in his voice when he asked, "How many times are you gonna rescue my family?"

Olivia glanced up the steps to where Kathy and Kathleen were shaking hands with her attorney. "I can't imagine who you'd be without them," she said before returning her gaze to his.

Elliot paused, looking over her shoulder at nothing. He wasn't going to say it – however true it might be, it was a little too telling to admit to the woman who once shared his bed. But he figured he owed her that much – that little. So, despite the fact that he didn't know precisely what he owed her for, Elliot met her eyes, replying in a sad, slow voice, "I can't imagine…who I'd be without you."

His partner's smile momentarily wavered. "Go." She tossed her head, broke eye contact. "Be with your family."

"Liv—"

He stepped after her as she stepped away. He wanted her to stop using that infernal word – that unending, inhuman go. He wanted her to cease with her relentless determination to banish him, to divorce herself from him in any context other than the amicably professional. He wanted to draw her back up the steps, into the embrace of his family. He wanted Kathleen's and Kathy's thanks to join his own. He wanted her to have the acknowledgment she deserved. But Olivia just turned and continued down the steps, throwing him a look over her shoulder.

"Go," she urged again. "I'll see you later."

Before he could do or say anything more to halt her, his daughter came flying past, her shoes tapping on the stone and blonde hair bobbing in her wake. Kathy joined him halfway down the flight of steps and both of them watched their daughter run up to Olivia, speak to her then throw her arms around her. Olivia hugged her back then pulled away and spoke to her in what looked like a quiet, steady voice.

"Your partner certainly goes above and beyond," his ex-wife commented, standing a chilly distance away.

Elliot nodded absently, mind reverting to wondering about carrots, wondering how it was possible— if it was possible for two of the most important women in his life to have found each other. For them to have conspired behind his back, despite his efforts to keep them separate and unknown to each other.

"'Course you realize," Kathy went on, her voice both hard and easy, "that at some point you're going to have to choose."

Elliot cast her a sideways look. "…Between?"

"Your work and your family." She nodded at Kathleen and Olivia. "Your kids, Elliot, and your partner."

He frowned at her. "Does it have to be a choice?"

A surprised look flitted across Kathy's face. But the question remained unanswered, unaddressed. Because their daughter returned and the three of them headed for the parking garage, weaving their way through the harried Manhattan street traffic. Elliot couldn't help glancing back though, catching a glimpse of his partner as she strode away in the opposite direction. He felt like he was being pulled in two directions at once – a feeling he was acutely accustomed to. Maybe his wife was right, maybe eventually he'd have to choose. Maybe he already had. If life was simply a matter of choice though, then maybe, sometime in the future, he'd get another chance to choose a life for himself that wouldn't constantly tear him in two.

-x-

2014

Elliot's daughter picks up on the first ring, sounding unsurprised by the call. "Olivia."

Olivia nods into the receiver. "Kathleen. Hi."

She cuts straight to the issue, a smile in her voice as she asks, "You got my message?"

"I did…" She looks down at the opened envelope on her desk, at the divorce papers and the succinct post-it note. "Although I'm not sure I know what it means."

"It means my mom and dad never remarried."

There's a pause and her voice fades briefly away. Olivia hears a car horn and muffled voices then the background noise silences and Kathleen continues on:

"They tried to get the divorce overturned or something but the church was weird about it, told them they'd have to jump through all these hoops, do counseling, blah-blah-blah. They thought about having a secular ceremony, not a shotgun wedding this time, but one of those recommitment things celebrities do when their relationship's in trouble…"

A door squeaks open and Kathleen mumbles something to someone.

"But?" Olivia prompts.

Her voice returns, full-strength and straightforward. "Never happened. They struck a deal instead."

She frowns, unsure of her right to such information. "What…kind of deal?"

"They agreed that my dad would stay and help out until Eli went to school. Then they'd reassess, maybe share custody."

Olivia nods and sinks into her seat. She vaguely remembers Elliot mentioning something about Eli's schooling on one of the last cases they worked together. If Kathleen is correct, then his and Kathy's agreement had been due for revision shortly after she and Elliot were forced to part ways. "Why're you telling me this?"

"Because it's okay." Kathleen's voice softens and Olivia can hear her smile again. "We're okay, all of us. Our family…we came to terms with all this a long time ago. It's only Dad who doesn't get that."

"You've…spoken with him."

"After he…visited you."

Olivia shifts back in her seat, her head bowed and the phone at her ear. "Eli…" she says after a short silence, "needs his father."

"And he'll have him," Kathleen replies easily. "Look, my dad wasn't always there when I was growing up – he was always at work, he was always with you. And there was a time when I was really angry about that, angry with him. But the truth is, he was a great dad. He did his best and when he was there, he was really there." She halts, gives a little chuckle. "And hey, I turned out alright. You know, apart from the whole going off the deep end and being charged with theft bit…"

In her office, Olivia just shakes her head. "Kathleen…"

But much like her father, Kathleen simply presses determinedly on. "So Rich is on a tour with the Marines right now but I talked to Maureen and Liz and they totally understand. I think even Mom gets it."

Olivia isn't sure she gets it. "Gets what?"

"I know you cops have got this code of honor thing going on but I'm just saying that…there's no need for you two to turn yourselves into collateral damage, not for the sake of something that doesn't even exist anymore."

Olivia gazes out her office window at the desk that once belonged to her partner, remembering the photo that used to sit on it, the smile Elliot sported when holding his last born child. "I know how important family is to your dad, Kathleen."

"Yeah, it is. But there's also nothing wrong with taking a second chance when it's offered to you." Kathleen pauses then adds lightly, "I did."

To this, Olivia has no reply. She's always believed in second chances. For certain people anyway. Maybe she could be – should be – one of them. Maybe Elliot deserves that much too. She doesn't say so and Kathleen seems to have said all she wished to. Olivia glances again at the divorce papers on her desk, her mind cautiously approaching an understanding of what the younger woman meant by them. On the other end of the line, Kathleen says she has to go, that she's due back at work. Olivia can hear the strength in her voice, beneath the lightness. She can hear how Elliot's daughter has taken her second chance and run with it, making her life what it should have been but probably wouldn't have been without her intervention years before.

They both say simple, warm, halting goodbyes. Then Olivia slowly hangs up the phone.

-x-

2009

It was Kathleen who let slip about Olivia's involvement in her case, in his family mess. Months after her court appearance, his daughter casually mentioned the clandestine meeting his partner arranged between her and her grandmother. Then she promptly clammed up. Despite his continued questioning, Kathleen refused to divulge details about what was revealed and how much his partner overheard. Months after that, his mother confirmed an acquaintance with his long-time colleague when he and Olivia were called to Bellevue during a routine canvas.

Bernie had been wearing only her painting smock and a ratty pair of slippers when she was discovered trying on underpants in the lingerie section of Macy's. Olivia accompanied him to the hospital ward without a word but offered to wait outside while he visited his mother. Elliot nearly insisted that she come in with him – he wanted to observe the two of them together, to discern just how much they knew about each other. Before he could insist though, Bernie's voice floated over to where they stood, huddled on the threshold with a beleaguered city doctor.

"Olivia…dear…"

Olivia stepped inside the cheerless room, it's dull, green walls lined with eight beds, a drugged up body strapped to all but one. Elliot followed, watching his partner take the withered hand that was outstretched despite the restraint round its wrist. Even in her sedated state, his mother clearly recognized his partner, was comfortable on first name basis with her.

"Thank you for coming," she slurred, looking frail and tiny in her bed, "I'm so glad he isn't hiding us from each other anymore."

Olivia smiled and replied in her softest possible voice, "How're you feeling, Mrs Stabler?"

To this Bernie gave a shush, reminding her of her shortened first name. Elliot suspected this wasn't the first time his mother had delivered such a kindly reprimand and would've given anything to be a fly on the wall during that conversation. Olivia just nodded and stepped aside, casting a glance over her shoulder at him.

Elliot shuffled closer. "Hey, Mama, how you doin'?"

"And there's my boy," his mother murmured, sluggish eyes drifting closed and open, closed and open. "My boy in the box, my jack-in-a-box…"

"It's Elliot," he told her, standing tall, "not Jack."

"I know," Bernie chuckled, "I know my own son…"

She waved a hand at her bedside where a booklet of plastic sleeves lay open on a rickety tray table. Her glasses sat on top of the tattered book, its pages open to a photo of a young boy dressed as a bright orange carrot. Elliot sighed. She loved that goddamn photo, loved telling people how she'd made him that stupid costume. He glanced at his partner who blinked away the tiniest of smiles.

"When're you gonna bust out of your box?" his mother was mumbling, her head tossing on the pillow, "when're you gonna escape your father's life…?"

"Mom. Mom—" he took her hand, spoke to her in a simple, slightly too-loud voice. "You gotta stop worrying about me and concentrate on getting better, okay?"

Bernie opened her eyes, looking almost lucid. "I'm perfectly fine, Elliot. I just got a little confused. It's you who—" she dropped his hand and wiggled her fingers at Olivia, "my dear— you'll tell him, won't you?" She lifted out of her bed, straining to make contact with his partner.

Elliot placed his hands on her shoulders, urging her back in the bed. But Olivia laid a gentle hand on his arm, easing him out of the way.

"Tell him what, Bernie?"

"You need to tell him," his mother insisted, pulling against her restraints. "I know you know. And he'll listen to you. You see?"

Olivia stroked her straining arm. "What is it I need to tell him?"

"That there's nothing wrong…" Bernie drooped back against the mattress as Olivia leant down, her head angled intently and one hand stroking her arm in a soothing, repetitive motion, "That there's nothing wrong with leading an unconventional life."

Olivia smiled softly. "Of course not." She gave an assuring nod then whispered, "I'll tell him, I'll convince him. Don't you worry."

His mother blinked up at her, eyes wide and desperate. "So you'll….you'll let him out of his box?"

Her smile faltered but she gave another nod. "Sure I will."

Bernie closed her eyes, releasing a long, relieved sigh. She muttered a few thank yous under her breath then continued babbling about her boy, her poor little box boy who'd been stuck in his box for such a very long time and couldn't breathe in there, couldn't grow in there, couldn't do anything that he wanted in there. Before long, she'd drifted away from them, her grip on the hospital sheets loosening and the drugs in her system stopping her tongue.

-x-

2014

Nick taps on the door before stepping inside. "Boss?"

Olivia pulls in a breath, her head jolting up. "Yeah. Come in…" She rouses herself from her reverie, shoving the Stabler's divorce papers back in their envelope then dropping them in a drawer.

Nick approaches warily, eyes skating over her face. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." She glances up, gives a short nod. "What's up?"

Not buying the evasion, her partner takes a seat. "What's going on, Liv?"

Her mouth opens, her eyes wander and her head shakes. She has no clue what to say to him, where to start or even if she wants to. She doesn't have to figure it out though because apparently Nick has been watching, gathering clues and piecing them together. She doubts it took very much deduction on his part to arrive at the truth.

"It's Elliot, right?" He leans back in his chair, spreads his hands in a simple gesture. "He's still in love with you."

Olivia doesn't know how to answer. So she doesn't.

Nick pauses then asks in a quieter voice. "You still love him?"

Again, she's got no reply. She rises instead of giving one, slowly pacing round the desk. It doesn't feel right, facing him across its official expanse. Not just because part of her still thinks of the desk as Donald Cragen's but because this man has served as her partner. He's been her challenger and champion, her motivator and protector. She owes him much, trusts him utterly and considers him an equal, not a subordinate.

"Can I ask you something?" she says, taking the seat beside him. "Something…personal?"

Nick shifts to face her, dips his chin. "'Course…"

She frowns, tucks some hair behind her ear then asks, "How's your family?"

He gives a half-humph, half-chuckle. "Which one?"

Olivia tilts her head. "Both, I guess."

"Good, actually. Good…" His head bobs as he considers his scattered family. "It's…not typical. Or easy but…it's working."

"Do you regret…any of it?"

"I only regret the years I missed out on. You know? I love Zara and Gilberto. Cynthia and I are on good terms now. And…I'm working on things with Maria…" He stops, strokes his jaw before adding in an intimate, thoughtful tone, "I guess the one thing I got from that whole mess is that sometimes things fall apart for a reason."

"So they can be put back together in a different order?" Olivia asks after a short silence.

Her partner nods. "Pretty much, yeah."

To Be Continued...