Author's Note: I'm so sorry this chapter has been so long in coming. I've had dreadful writers' block and, unfortunately, I cannot guarantee it won't happen again. Thank you so much for your patience.
Chapter Ten: Domesticity Amidst Chaos
You frantically push into the apartment, your first thought only for Noah and Lucy. Noah is so little, he's just a baby...and White had been so close. Too close. It was one thing when it was just you – you could take care of yourself. But now you have this tiny little human, who is barely speaking words, and he's totally and completely dependent on you for everything.
It's intimidating being a mother.
You've been a leader of a squad for quite some time now and that definitely has its challenges but this is different. It's a whole new world for you, with a whole new set of rules and challenges. But it also holds so much delight, happiness, and joy for you. Something you've never really had before.
You have a family of your own and you would be damned if anyone would hurt what you had longed for your entire life. You would see Richard White in hell first before he came near your son.
"Benson," Tucker's voice sounds at your ear and you jump. You'd forgotten that he was even there. What had been a beautiful night had quickly turned into a nightmare and you just needed to get in there, needed to see your little boy, make sure he was safe. "Slow down," he says gently, his hand on your arm.
"I need to get in there, Ed." You hiss. "This is my son. My family."
"I know." Tucker responds. "But I think you need to let someone else take over. You're too close."
"This is my child and he is coming after me. I need to be involved with this, Ed." You look at him, challenging him to fight you on this. Because if it's a fight he wants, then it's a fight he's going to get. You are not going to trust your child to anyone else but you and your squad.
To your surprise, Tucker doesn't fight you on it. And you're immediately suspicious because it isn't like him to just drop it like that. But, over the last few months, he's been showing a considerable amount of empathy and sympathy so maybe he really is going to let it go.
But you really, really doubt it. Tucker may be more sympathetic but he's still IAB. And the last thing One PP needs is a NYPD cop going off half cocked on a stalker.
You go in.
"Hi, Olivia." Lucy greets you brightly. "Did you have a good time?"
You struggle to keep the strain out of your voice and smile back at her. You must have done a fairly decent job of hiding your fear because Lucy doesn't seem to notice anything amiss. And she's bright, she would pick up on that.
"Yes, it was wonderful, thank you, Lucy. Did everything go all-right tonight?"
"Oh, yes," Lucy responds quickly but then hesitates.
"What happened?" You seize on her hesitation.
"Nothing major." She says slowly. "Noah was pretty crabby tonight but I think he just has a little cold. I had a hard time getting him to sleep. And then..." she stops and shakes her head, as if to dismiss it.
"Lucy, what aren't you telling me?" You try not to act like you're interrogating her but it's so hard because that's who you are and switching "sergeant" off is not easy for you.
"It's probably just my imagination." She tells you. "But there were some odd noises around the apartment tonight. Again, I'm probably just being silly and I really don't want to bother you with a little bit of nerves."
"It's okay," you reassure her, "I'm glad you did." And you turn to Ed who has followed you into the apartment. You don't want Lucy to see the fear that's hiding in your eyes but you're not afraid to let a little of your guard down with Tucker. He's proven to be worthy of some of your trust, at least.
"We can get a squad car to come by here." He says lowly, out of earshot of Lucy.
"Is everything okay, Liv?" Lucy asks anxiously. She doesn't know what's going on but she can pick up on the tension in the room.
"Nothing to be concerned about." You reassure her. "Do you need a ride home tonight?"
"I called my brother. He should be here in about five minutes."
"Okay, you just stay put until he gets here, then." You tell her quietly. "I'm going to just talk to Lieutenant Tucker for a few moments."
You walk with Ed over into your kitchen, by the window. You want to be able to look out into the New York night and scan the horizon for any threats. You can see some shadows by the streetlights but none of them look menacing. Just people out late at night, staggering home from bars, or enjoying a stroll in the night air. The city that never sleeps.
"Benson..." he takes a deep breath, as if preparing himself for another argument, "given the situation, I think a protective detail is needed here."
"You're right." You say, a little surprised at the ease with which you agreed with him. But, again, this is not as it was before. You have someone else to think about now. And sometimes you have two people, when Lucy is taking care of Noah.
"Sergeant Benson agreeing without a fight?" He raises an eyebrow and scans your face intently.
"Don't get used to it." You say, putting your coat over a chair.
"Wouldn't dream of it." He says dryly. "Let me give a call over to headquarters. They'll be able to send a squad car out."
"I don't want them on me all the time." You warn him. "I'm capable of protecting myself." This is for my son. I can't be near him all the time and Lucy is not capable of protecting him if someone really wants to get to him.
"Oh, I'm well aware." He comments dryly.
"Olivia?" Lucy's quiet voice interrupts. "My brother's here. He's waiting at the car."
"Okay, Lucy." You say. "Let me at least make sure you get to your car."
So you watch as she goes down the stairs and out to a waiting car. You've met her brother a few times before and you recognize him sitting at the wheel.
Then you shut the door behind you and it's just you and Tucker.
Alone.
In your kitchen.
But you're too shaken to really want anything more than a hot cup of tea. So you turn to the cabinets and start busying yourself, trying to hide the tremors in your hands. You're not afraid for yourself. You're terrified for Noah.
"Do you want something to drink?" You ask in a quiet voice.
"Some wine if you have it. But let me get it." He offers.
"Help yourself." And you hand him a glass. "Bottle's over there."
And you prepare your tea while he pours his wine.
"We'll get him, Liv." He says quietly.
"I know." You say. But you really don't know. He got out of prison this time. And he's violating his parole and no one seems to know where he is. So you don't really have too much faith in the system at the moment. But you weren't going to say that out loud because you're supposed to be enforcing the system.
He comes over to you and gently rubs your arm. "He's getting to you. You can't let him do that."
"Dammit, Tucker, I know that." You bark, almost dropping your tea.
He doesn't say anything else, simply pulls you into his arms. "It's okay, Olivia."
"But it's not." You say into his coat. "You can't say that." And you hate that he sees you weak like this but he's here and it's been a long day and you're tired and you find that you just don't care.
And it's soothing having him hold you, run his fingers through your hair. He smells good, a strange combination of cologne, the smell of rainy New York streets, and the fog that settles on the grass in the early morning. Instead of pulling away and putting up those walls like you've done so many times before, you linger there, feeling the warmth of him underneath your hands. And you find that, despite the terror this night has brought, you want him.
You want him to stay. More than anything.
"Are you goin' to be okay tonight?" He whispers, almost as if reading your thoughts. "I can stay."
Part of you wants to say no because you don't want him to think you can't handle yourself but the vulnerable part of you, the part of you that you've kept locked away for so long and from so many, that part says yes.
He looks down at you and you look up at him. And he looks concerned for you.
"Stay." You say quietly. "Please."
"Sure." And he leans down and he kisses you. And it's not one of his usual hard kisses, the ones that he does as a prelude to sex. It's gentle, it's brief, it's warm. It's surprisingly tender for that hardbitten IAB officer. "Let me make a call to HQ. Gotta get that squad car for your nanny and Noah. And need to run and get a change of clothes. Shouldn't take long."
"Thank you, Tucker." You smile wearily.
"Don't mention it." He gives you that half-grin of his that makes you weak at the knees. "I'll be back soon. Lock the doors, call if there's any problem. I mean it."
"I know the drill." You roll your eyes, a little exasperated at his protectiveness – you can take care of yourself – but touched at the same time. "I'll see you soon."
….
It takes him a little more time than you had thought, traffic was unusually heavy this late at night. You had gone to check in with Noah who, thankfully, was sleeping peacefully. Although, you note with concern, his breathing is a little labored and you know that if it doesn't seem better in the morning, it means another trip to the pediatrician. And Noah has already been through so much already.
"Sleep tight, baby boy." You whisper. "I'll be here when you wake."
The wind is loud tonight and causing branches of trees to scrape against the building. Normally, it doesn't bother you but with White on the loose, everything just seems to set you more on edge. And then you hear a sharp rap on the door. At first you jump but then you remember Tucker was coming back.
"Who is it?" You ask, just to be safe.
"It's Tucker." You open the door and you just find yourself so relieved to see him.
"Sorry, traffic was a little crazy tonight." He says, putting his night bag down.
"I'm exhausted," you tell him, "can we just plan on going to bed tonight?"
He scans your face. "Did something happen while I was gone?"
"No," you sigh, "but Noah's breathing is labored and if it doesn't get better, we'll have to go into the doctor tomorrow." Just one more thing to worry about.
"Get ready for bed then." He tells you. "I'll make you some tea."
"You know how?" You raise an eyebrow.
He sighs. "I may hate the goddamned stuff but I do know how to heat up water and put a bag in it."
"Okay," you grin, "I trust you." So you go and slip into your sweatpants and tank top. You're not in the mood for seduction tonight so you're choosing comfort over sexiness.
"Thank you," you reach for the steaming mug in his hand, "this is perfect."
"Glad I could help." Tucker says. "Can I use your bathroom?"
You nod as you sip slowly on the steaming liquid. It's delicious. And, all of sudden it strikes you how very domestic this all is. He's spending the night, he's met your son, he's made you tea. Tucker's worming his way into your life, under your skin, and it doesn't feel weird, it feels right.
He comes out of the bathroom, dressed simply in sweatpants and a t-shirt that you happen to notice accentuates how very built he is. This is a man who keeps in shape and you can't help but appreciate the results.
"I'll sleep on the couch." He says, heading for a comforter.
"No, Ed." You say. "Take the bed. With me."
He looks at you seriously. "Olivia, you need sleep. And if you and I share a bed, there won't be much sleeping goin' on."
You give him a half-smile. "Don't you have any self-control?"
"It's not me I'm worried about." He winks.
"It'll be fine." You say. "I'm too tired for anything else."
He throws up his hands. "Okay, Benson."
So the two of you make your way into your bedroom and you slide into bed. As soon as he gets into bed, he reaches for you. "Ed..." you mumble and look at him. He smiles a little and says, "Don't worry. Not goin' to try anything. Well, anything much." And he kisses your mouth. You pull him to you, his hard body against yours, and the two of you just kiss. Nothing more, no reaching for each other's clothes, just your mouths against one another, his hands up and down your back.
He nuzzles your neck, sliding his hand on your stomach, under your tank and you kiss his throat. And then he stops and just wraps an arm around you and pulls you to him. The warmth of him wraps around you like a comforting blanket, his rough fingers soft on your skin.
And you smile and close your eyes.
It's nice, this domesticity. And, for a moment, you forget all about Richard White, looming out there in the shadows of the dark New York night.