Institutional Fail—The apathy in this episode is disgusting. How many people saw little Bruno as he made his way from his apartment to the bodega AND DID NOTHING? I want to tell kids playing on my street to get the hell in the house (not in those exact words, of course) as soon as the sun starts going down and a four-year-old can walk through the projects unnoticed in the middle of the night. Double Yoo. Tee. EFF.

Also, um, NOBODY NOTICED KEISHA SUFFERING OR MISSING? Or even noticed that Mama was struggling again and thought to help? Shit's fucked up and even MORE fucked up because it happens every day and even MORE MORE fucked up because there's not a "Renegade Rafael" Barba in every DA's office…btw he really pissed me off with that "maternal outrage" comment to OMB and Rollins. Geeeeez, Barba, hope Abuela didn't hear that up in heaven 'cuz if she did, Felipe Heredio isn't your only problem.

I could go on and on, but y'all don't care. Chief Dodds was yucky at the beginning and an ass at the end—yeah, yeah, Benson I saved your promotion, but, heeeeeeeere's Junior. I also thought it was interesting that he is perfectly fiiiiiiiine with Benson staying at SVU when she could have any command in the city but for Junior? Uh-uh. Up and out.

Community Policing- Before #Tuckson became canon, my favorite ep and still one of my fave eps OF THE ENTIRE SERIES. Gray gray gray gray. Relevant. The writers and actors did an amazing job making ALL characters seem at least a tiny bit worthy of sympathy. I do wish we could see the resolution to the indictments and I REALLY DO WISH FOR THE RETURN OF THE LOGUE.

The shared moment between OMB and Tucker at IAB, the look of dread after Tucker gets the DNA info, they were three feet apart, but I'm sorry, that was hotttttttttttttttttt.

Tanned Tucker in a polo.

My husband wears polos every day and he doesn't look like that.

But I pretend he does.

Shhhhhhhhhhh.

…...

Toddler swing selection was at a premium Saturday morning, but Benson did her best to ignore the hopeful eyes of other parents hovering nearby. It wasn't a difficult task. Noah squealed with delight and kicked his legs with each gentle push. DeWitt Clinton Park teemed with small children and their parents; idyllic family chatter, like something out of a movie, filled the air. A hint of humidity blanketed the city and portended an uncomfortable afternoon, but the sun was still rising, peeking through the eastern tree line and obstructed by a few nimbus clouds. Olivia looked around at the crowd, content to blend in among other parents seeking to milk the mild morning temperatures before retreating to the air conditioning.

Earlier, she lounged in bed, wide awake before even Noah stirred, processing the week. Fundraiser with Dodds. Bruno. Keisha. Hank Abraham and One PP passing the buck. Barba, initially reluctant, taking the moral high ground and probably risking his job to prosecute the caseworkers and the deputy commissioner.

Upon leaving Abraham's office, Benson felt caged. Constricted. As a detective, if Cragen had been told to stand down, she and Stabler or she and Amaro would have surreptitiously pursued leads; now, as the soon-to-be Lieutenant, she didn't have the luxury of flouting orders from her superiors, even if it was the right thing to do. Surprisingly, Barba's decision obviated the need for her to prematurely butt heads with the Chief and the Commissioner. Still, they had to feed him evidence, and her detectives were working through the weekend to harvest it.

The boss was taking the day off.

Olivia cringed slightly, her grimace barely noticeable, when Tucker propelled Noah higher than she usually pushed him. Unfazed, Noah simply flung his head back to catch the breeze and kicked his legs harder, quelling his mother's temporary anxiety.

"Will you hold this?" She held out her coffee, "I want to go around and get some pictures of him."

"Sure." He took the cup but intentionally grabbed her hand and gave her a peck on the lips before she had time to scan the area for spies.

Blushing, and a little shaky at the knees, she made her way to the other side of the swing set and snapped photos of her beaming son being sent towards her by Ed Tucker who knew he'd be in the shot but did his best to seem oblivious.

Her text woke him up earlier that morning. It was just after seven when he heard the phone ping and vibrate. Expecting police business, he shot up and swiped the phone from his nightstand only to lie back down again when he read the message.

Taking Noah to the park in a couple hours. Want to join?

The seconds he waited in order to not seem overeager were agonizing.

Sure. I'll bring coffee.

Olivia returned to his side, phone in hand, wanting to show him the pictures. They let the momentum swing Noah for a bit. She flipped through the shots and Tucker put a hand across her back, making only light contact, but she easily felt his touch through her light t-shirt. Pretending not to notice, Olivia continued the brief slide show, stepping away only out of obligation to Noah. Taking a cue from Tucker, she sent him forward with both hands, more forcefully than she'd done before. Tucker took a snap of her in profile with Noah on the backswing, his face level with hers. Mother and son wore matching smiles.

….

"Didja eat?" Tucker asked as they walked through the park gates and onto the sidewalk.

"Noah did," Olivia replied.

Tucker checked his watch. "Wanna get a late breakfast? Early lunch? Brunch?"

"Maybe some place where we can sit outside?" Olivia suggested, "It's not too brutally hot yet."

"Sure."

On the way to their destination, Noah dozed off in the stroller. At Tucker's pub of choice they chose a partially shaded table and parked Noah so he was behind them and out of the sun's rays. They sat at a small round table, not exactly across from one another, so they could simultaneously people watch and converse.

"You gonna have a drink?" Tucker asked, perusing the menu.

"Yeah, why not?" she replied.

He tapped her elbow with the back of his hand, "Especially since we should be celebrating."

Wide-eyed, she turned to face him, "You know?"

"Of course I know. I saw the Lieutenant's list. And Dodds told me."

"He did?"

"Yeah," Tucker recalled proudly, "Said you were in the top five percent. And, even better, you weren't in the retake group, not that you woulda been under suspicion."

Allegations of cheating on the Lieutenant's Exam recently plagued the NYPD. Tucker's heads up to Benson about avoiding online study forums was based on whistleblowers' intel. Someone was posting answers to the exam online, and candidates who took make-up tests at later dates had their results heavily scrutinized.

"That's going to be a mess," Olivia mused.

"Yup. But," Tucker said brightly, "It's somebody else's problem now. So, what are we drinkin?"

Their beers arrived promptly, and they toasted Olivia's impending promotion. Tucker clarified that this outing was not the official promotion celebration at which Olivia smiled coyly.

"I'll believe it when I get the official notification," she said humbly.

Tucker feigned being offended, "I'm not official enough?"

Olivia shook her head shamefully.

"What?"

She took a deep breath, shifted in her chair, checked on Noah…all to delay responding. "I know you're kidding, but it seems like," she began slowly, "I'm very good at unintentionally insulting you."

"I haven't noticed."

"Right," she scoffed.

Tucker had to find a way to tell her he enjoyed her feistiness without letting on he found it incredibly sexy. "I don't expect you to not be you, Benson. If ya know what I mean."

She nodded, accepting his reasoning. "So what else did Chief Dodds tell you?"

"That you had a nice time at the fundraiser."

Olivia rolled her eyes. "He said that?"

"Yeah," he grinned, "I take it you feel otherwise?"

Olivia hadn't thought about the event much due to the fact they caught the Ozuna case that night and the entire week had been consumed with caring for Bruno, finding his mother, mourning his sister, and digging into child services' records. "It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, but the political piece of this job is…a challenge for me. Dodds is a natural."

"I told you," Tucker said with derision, "he's a politician. He always has been. But, he said that you two had a nice night."

Olivia forced a hesitant laugh, "I'm sure he thought we did. At least he took the night off from busting my chops, which he's been doing since I took over."

"He's always gonna be a pawn of the brass, and of Abraham."

"I hope that doesn't have to happen to me."

"Me neither," Tucker commiserated, "Which is why I'm a little reluctant to take the Captain's exam."

Olivia gaped at him, "You are?"

"There's a shortage," Tucker explained. In New York, the rank of Captain didn't necessarily equate to a better command. Captains did not earn overtime, were expected to be even more involved in administration and politics, and could be shuffled around at a moment's notice. The test was also notoriously difficult. "So I told 'em I'd do it only if I got to choose where I go after. Handshake agreement, but, it's a deal."

She wanted to joke that he was taking the test just so he could stay a step ahead of her in rank, but she bit her tongue. "Have you started studying?"

"Nah."

"Are you going to study?"

"I'll look over a few things," he replied confidently.

Noah started fussing. The stroller was positioned in such a way that Tucker had a better angle to pick him up. He did, and instead of passing Noah to his mother, he sat him in his lap and gently bounced him up and down. "Good nap, bud?"

Noah looked at Olivia through sleepy eyes and reached out for her. She kissed both his hands, but let him remain with Tucker. "Here's your juice, sweet boy." Noah took his cup and leaned back against Tucker's chest, slowly shaking off his drowsiness.

Tucker noticed a hint of sorrow in Olivia's gaze. "Somethin' the matter?" He asked, clearly concerned.

"This has been a tough week," she said. "I don't know what's worse—those kids being completely neglected or the city turning a blind eye." He wasn't sure how to respond and they both stared at Noah. Olivia continued in her reflective voice, a tone, Tucker noticed, she'd been using more and more with him. Though her words were tinged with anguish, he appreciated her increasing willingness to be open. "For years, I thought about being a mother. I didn't think it would happen. At a few points, I really would've given anything to have a child. Then this little guy came along, right out of nowhere," she reached over and grabbed Noah's leg, brushing Tucker's thigh the process, "I'm so lucky. But there are so many kids who aren't lucky, and they get trapped in the cycle—foster care, neglect, abuse, and they become adults who struggle…there aren't enough success stories, and it just continues."

Once again, Tucker avoided platitudes. "Noah's lucky," he said softly, "He'll never know any of that."

Olivia smiled gratefully, "It's so hard," she said. "I remember, the first night I had him, sitting with him in the rocking chair wondering how on Earth I was going to pull this off but also being so incredibly happy."

"You look happiest when you're with him."

"I am," she sighed, took a drink of her beer, and hoped Tucker wouldn't misconstrue what she was going to say next. "And I've come to realize, that…I'm also happy when I'm with you."

Olivia worried Tucker would think she was trying to somehow acknowledge competition between him and Noah, but she was clearly overthinking. Tucker rarely expressed any type of shock or surprise, but he gaped at her now. His sparkling blue eyes, however, betrayed his delight at what she'd just said.

"Me too," he croaked.

"Even when we're talking about the job," she said, "I can disconnect when we're together."

Tucker was grateful that Noah dropped his cup just then; it bought him some time. What to say? What to say? He couldn't go with me too again.

"It's, uh, nice we could get to this point."

"It is."

Noah's toddler babbles filled the somewhat-awkward silence, and he dropped his cup again, giggling at the game he was playing with Tucker.

"So, back to your promotion, where ya wanna go for dinner?"

She smiled, aware her flattery flustered him. "How about you surprise me?" She thought about the batting cages, the impromptu babysitting, and last week, when he showed up at the precinct late one night with coffee and a cupcake. "You're pretty good at that."

…..

"Good night, Lieutenant."

Chief Dodds shot her a sly half-smile and left the office. Olivia slumped into her chair. Lieutenant. Lieutenant Olivia Benson. It was official.

But the promotion came with a caveat.

Dodds' son was her number two. A big NYPD thank-you for doing the right thing in the despite an administration which wanted the ugly truth swept under the rug.

A spy.

If Rollins hadn't still been there, Benson would have put her head on the desk. Why couldn't something in her life be easy? Did absolutely everything have to come with problems attached? Judge Linden placed Noah with her, but Olivia spent a year at the mercy of Ms. Jackson. As Sergeant, she took command of the unit only to be faced again with William Lewis. She passes the Lieutenant's exam, almost loses out on the promotion, and not only did she now owe Chief Dodds for saving it but she got to "supervise" his son as her new Sarge. Personally, she and Tucker continued to get closer, but as their romantic feelings for one another grew, so did her anxiety about where exactly they were headed and what that would mean for both their careers.

Tucker.

She re-read his last text.

Sorry about tonight. I'm still on the scene. Will call later.

Earlier that evening, an inmate died in a holding cell at another precinct. The reported cause of death was suicide, but investigators immediately noticed the officers' stories didn't match what investigators found when they arrived. Due to the child services case and trial, she and Tucker hadn't seen each other since the morning at the park and lunch at the pub. With Rollins on desk duty, the squad was now severely short-staffed and Olivia was exhausted. At the very, very least, Dodds Junior, could pick up some of the slack, but it would still be a couple weeks before he arrived and even then it would take some time for him to adjust.

Olivia practically had to drag Rollins from her desk. "C'mon, Amanda," she said, "Let's go. I'll drop you at home."

"I think I'll stay a while," Rollins replied, sounding distant.

"Why don't we get a coffee or a cup of tea or something?" Olivia said, "I have a little time before I have to be home."

"Thanks, Sarge, but I really feel like being alone right now."

Olivia didn't bother to correct her rank, "At least let me take you home."

"Alright," she reluctantly agreed and stood up with effort. "If you insist."

….

Tucker left IAB after midnight and considered paying Olivia an unannounced visit. He was fine with taking things slowly, but lately she'd been so busy she'd barely had time to stop at home for a few hours with Noah let alone go out on dates with him. As he drove he reconsidered his thoughts. No, he was actually not fine with taking things slowly. He badly wanted Benson. At the very least he wanted to kiss her more, feel her body against him, touch her in places he hadn't touched, and whisper in her ear that she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. He wanted more everything—more time, more Noah, more her.

Their conversation over lunch last weekend only intensified his desire because she finally hinted that she wanted him, too. He made her happy. He helped her disconnect. She allowed him to start forging a bond with her son. Recently, each outing included morsels of personal information. Last weekend it was about her desire to be a mother. They'd danced around the edges of the William Lewis horror; he wondered if and when she would talk about that. He envisioned holding her in his arms as she revealed the darkest depths of her soul. She would cry, sob maybe, and he would just hold her tighter, listen, and offer assurances that he would never let anything bad happen to her ever again.

Alright, Tucker, now you're going a little over the top.

But he had to prod them forward, even if it was a little risky, even if it wasn't everything in one fell swoop.

He did tell her he'd call. It was late, but Ed Tucker was a man of his word.

Her groggy voice sent erotic ripples through his entire body. "Hey," she rasped.

"Hi, uh, sorry to wake you up, but-"

"You did say you'd call."

"I did."

Olivia cleared her throat, "Long night for you."

"Yeah it was."

"Oh," she sounded more alert, "You'll never guess who our new Sarge is."

"Who?"

"Dodds' son."

"You're kidding," he said dryly, a little pissed Dodds was doing this to her.

"No, I'm not. Do you know him?"

"Not very well, but I've met him. Seemed ok then, but…" Tucker trailed off, not wanting to say he wouldn't trust anyone related to Chief Dodds. No need to cloud her first impressions.

"But what?"

Damn. "Nothin,' I, uh, they're putting him there for a reason."

"Dodds made it sound like a favor, that it was the only way they'd promote me after I'd, uh, cooperated with Barba."

"That may be, but it doesn't mean there's not more to it."

"Good point."

"Remember," he urged with some familiar IAB-ness, "it's your squad."

"Another good point."

"I seem to be full of them tonight. Or…you're tired and want to get off the phone?"

Olivia made a noise, a cross between a laugh and a cough, "I am tired, but I don't necessarily want to hang up."

"How 'bout we say goodnight now and I'll see you for drinks tomorrow night?"

"Do you mean tonight? Or, tomorrow?"

"I guess tonight."

"Ok," she said, sleep returning to her voice, "I'll see you later."

….

Drinks didn't happen. The next time Tucker saw the overextended now-Lieutenant was at the hospital the next day. On the drive over he prepared himself to see her for the first time in over a week. He tried to conjure his usual steely, uncompromising demeanor, but it was a struggle. For the first time in a very long while, he would initiate an investigation as a slightly watered-down version of himself. As soon as he walked through the hospital doors he saw her clad in a black leather jacket and midnight blue blouse. He took a deep breath and exhaled as he walked towards her.

"Tucker, what do you sleep with a radio under your pillow?"

"I don't have to," he grumbled, looking at his phone and thinking he was maybe trying a little too hard to maintain professionalism in her presence, "Police shoot another young black man, word travels."

When Benson mediated his verbal sparring with Didi Denzler, she touched his arm ever so slightly before retracting, as if she caught herself a millisecond before crossing a line neither one of them had officially drawn but tacitly acknowledged.

After informing Captain Reece that Donlan, Campesi, and Dume would best serve their precinct by talking to IAB as soon as possible, Tucker took a call and walked out. When he returned, the room was silent except for monitors beeping and Terrence Reynolds' mother weeping against her husband's chest. Tucker found Ms. Denzler who assured him the officers would be at IAB first thing tomorrow morning with their attorneys. Olivia was talking to someone on the phone, and Tucker made sure she saw him waiting for her. She hung up and joined him.

"I'm gonna take off," he said, almost whispering. "You need anything?"

Olivia sighed, "No…Carisi has the warrant to search his apartment…Fin's still trying to lean on witnesses for video." She closed her eyes and massaged her temples. "I'll walk out to the car with you," she said, "I need to get out of here for a minute."

Outside, Olivia removed her jacket and frowned, "Ugh, it's so muggy. I guess it was better in there." She glanced back at the building.

Tucker bought himself some time, "C'mon. Come sit with me for a minute. I'll turn the AC on."

Inside the car, Olivia adjusted the vents and funneled the cool air so it was blowing directly on her. Strands that had escaped her ponytail blew wildly around her face.

"This is going to be a mess," she muttered.

"We'll see them tomorrow. Think you finally got him?" Tucker meant the elusive push-in rapist.

Olivia's eyes remained closed and her face was inches from the vents. "Let's hope so."

Her phone vibrated, she silenced it and put it back in her pocket. "I don't have much time," she said, "that was Fin. He got one phone and is bringing it and the owner back to the precinct."

"Well, then—" Tucker grabbed her by the back of the neck, brought her to him, and kissed her. Startled, it took her a minute to adjust to his mouth on hers, but when she relaxed and returned the kiss with fervor, Tucker turned up the intensity. Gasps filled the small space as Tucker deepened the kiss, relishing how Olivia playfully fought back against the force of his tongue. He paused briefly only to move away from the steering wheel and pressed her against the passenger door. Before resuming the make-out session, Tucker stared into her eyes, then down at her lips, now smeared with the light gloss she'd been wearing, and then back to her eyes again. He traced the line of her cheekbones with his index finger, and, with the other hand, cupped and squeezed one of her breasts over her shirt, tentatively at first, until he was sure it was something she wanted.

She stroked the back of his head with her fingertips and returned his gaze. "Hey there," She whispered, a glint in her eye.

"Olivia, you're so beautiful."

She pulled him back to her, and he collapsed, as much as he could collapse on the bench seat of a Crown Vic, on top of her. He switched to a gentle, slow, methodical kiss, savoring the taste, memorizing the contours of her mouth. He balled the hem of her shirt, untucking it, so he could feel her skin and she moaned unto his mouth as he worked his hand under her bra.

"Tucker."

He sucked lightly at her neck while simultaneously exploring under her shirt, teasing at the waist of her pants, remembering she and he both wore holstered Glocks.

Olivia had to go. She had to work. But Tucker's hands were on her and his caresses felt so soothing, so strong and powerful yet incredibly tender and maybe a bit...appreciative? There was yearning in his kiss, insistence, she could tell he wanted to tell her something he couldn't put into words, but it wasn't difficult to decipher the meaning in his actions. Things between them were changing, right now; in this unmarked cruiser of all places, Tucker took control and made it glaringly obvious that he wanted to be…hers.

"Tucker, I have to go," she whispered reluctantly.

"I know." He knew, but he continued kissing her. Neck. Chin. Throat. He slid her blouse aside and went for the shoulder. Collarbone. Back to her lips.

"I want to see you again. Soon."

"Me too. I still owe you dinner. A real dinner."

"Even if it's not dinner."

He stopped and looked her in the eyes. "Tomorrow?" He asked hopefully.

"Tomorrow."

He dragged himself off her and adorably tried to re-tuck her shirt, but she graciously mumbled "I got it" and used the visor mirror to fix her makeup and hair.

"You look gorgeous in that color," he said.

"You probably do, too."

"I'm sorry this night was so awful for you."

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, "It is. But not this part," her phone was vibrating again, but she leaned over for one last kiss and lingered on his lips for a few extra seconds. "Ok. Back to reality."

"Need a lift back to the precinct?"

"No, I'm going back up to see Reece first."

Seconds later, she was out of the car. She turned to look at him longingly before disappearing through the sliding glass doors. The anguish that clouded her face earlier had returned. Tucker commiserated with her, but he took solace knowing he was capable of making that job-related suffering go away.

…

Olivia went through the motions of her evening routine feeling unbearably heavy. Earlier that day she testified at the grand jury proceedings, and even though she'd answered Barba's questions honestly, she had been evasive, political, and it felt so unlike her. She could not remember a case so muddled, so gray, so devoid of any sense of justice or any semblance of a silver lining. Police work very seldom resulted in clean, clear resolutions, but this case caused Olivia to question the very essence of her career—how could procedure-tried and true police procedures—lead only to skepticism and derision? How could she feel content repeating in my opinion, all police procedures were followed when Terrence Reynolds' family was planning his funeral and SVU was no closer to catching the push-in rapist?

Despite thinking she wanted to be alone, she told Tucker to come by. He offered to bring food, but she didn't feel like eating. Instead, she poured a glass of wine, set the bottle and another glass on the table, and unlocked the door.

It was obvious she was exhausted, stressed, and frustrated. After kissing her hello, Tucker settled into a corner of the couch and motioned for her to sit with him. She reclined against his chest and he held her as she rehashed and lamented the entire week from the moment they were called to the Harris apartment to today's indictments.

"Why did he have to run," Olivia's question was rhetorical and Tucker responded only by running his hand and up and down her arm. "And how do we explain that to his parents? To the city? We can't convince them that this was anything more than an execution—the cell phone video, that's not the angle they had, they were in hot pursuit, it was dark, they're in one of the most dangerous areas in the city, a place where people already hate cops."

"Hey," Tucker softly interrupted her, "Sometimes you can do everything right and things still turn out horribly wrong. It, unfortunately, comes with what we do. We're people, Olivia, and we follow training, protocol, but it's never one-hundred percent foolproof."

Of course she knew this, but she appreciated him trying to console her. She let out a long, deep sigh. "Try explaining that to his family. Or the officers' families for that matter."

"It has been explained. It's not a good answer. But it is the answer."

"Would you have emptied your clip?"

"Both Cole and I said we would have, but, I wasn't in the heat of the chase, it's impossible to say for sure."

"I can't talk about the grand jury," Olivia complained, "But it was…tense…in there with Barba."

Tucker grunted, "I'm sure he grilled you about the number of shots fired. He asked us about it, too."

"He did?"

"Man, he sure is thorough. He watched the tapes from beginning to end. Noticed we cut one of 'em short and turned off the camera."

"Why'd you do that?"

"They'd been told exactly what to say, word for word, and Cole and I made it clear that we noticed."

"Am I on the right side of things here?" Olivia wondered out loud.

Tucker furrowed his brow. "I don't think this is that type of case, Lieutenant. You're gonna go crazy if you try to answer that question."

As Olivia let that sink in, she traced little circles on the top of Tucker's hand. "Thank you for listening to me vent. I'm sure this wasn't the type of evening you were looking for."

"The only thing I was looking for was to see you."

She lifted his hand to her lips and kissed it sensually. "Next week Dodds-the-son arrives."

"I can't wait to hear about it."

She forced a little laugh, "I bet. I have an open mind…but I haven't forgotten what you said."

Tucker felt a cliché was appropriate, "It'll work out," he said, "And you won't be stretched so thin."

Olivia twisted around so she faced him. "And we can finally have that dinner you've been talking about."

"Yeah," he replied, "I'm lookin' forward to that."

"Tucker?"

"Yeah?"

"Should we tell somebody about us?"

"There's no reason to. Is that what you want?"

"It's complicated."

"I know."

She sat up and took his hands, "I want to keep it between us for now, if that's ok with you."

"I understand."

"It's—"

"Olivia," he leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I un-der-stand."

"It's not like I want to sneak around, I—"

He smirked at her, "Lieutenant. How 'bout you just kiss me and we can talk about it later?"

He played with her hair.

"When it's not so late?"

He kissed her cheek.

"When you're not so exhausted?"

He kissed the other cheek.

"When—"

Now he was talking too much. They fell back against the couch cushions, locked in an embrace, kissing and whispering and locking eyes before things calmed down and Olivia rested her head against him, soaking up the comfort he provided, still not quite sure exactly where they were headed, but, for what seemed like the first time in her life she realized her career and her personal life did not necessarily have to be codependent. And maybe that was part of her hesitation about disclosure. Since she and Tucker embarked on their friendship, and now, more-than-friendship, her job had presented her with every heart wrenching, agonizing, infuriating case society could throw at her. Yet, when Tucker was around, it was so easy to put all of that aside and be with him. There was something in his very presence that eliminated the ugly background noise of her job and allowed her to focus on her, on Noah, on them. Even when, like tonight, police talk was unavoidable, he made her feel better, refreshed, reenergized…secure.

Tucker was quickly becoming her rock, and she hadn't noticed until now.

She'd spent her entire life supporting others; having someone support her was so foreign and unfamiliar, she almost missed it.

Almost.

…..

These are running too long, I know. I will do better. #Tuckson #Sept21