Over

Elliot is sitting at the kitchen table paying bills when the doorbell rings. Anticipating a salesperson, he puts on his meanest cop face as he strides to the front door and flings it open.

"Hey," says Dec. "Did I catch you at a bad time?" He is standing on the front porch, looking apprehensive and resigned at the same time.

"Uh, no…" Elliot stammers, caught off guard. Declan is the last person he expected to see today. "I thought it was a salesman and I was going to give him the bum's rush. Come on in."

Declan follows him into the kitchen and the two men stand awkwardly for a minute. Elliot motions to a chair. "Coffee?" he asks, and then takes a closer look at the younger man's rough appearance. "Or how about a beer?"

Declan starts to shake his head no, then glances at the clock on the wall. It's a little after noon. "Why not?" he says with an attempt at a chuckle. "A beer would be good about now."

Elliot takes two bottles out of the refrigerator and brings them over to the table. He's got a few more days of antibiotics to take but he figures that this close to the end, a beer can't hurt anything. He's nervous as hell, wondering what Declan is doing here and he could use a beer himself.

"Glass?" he asks Dec as he opens a bottle of Harp and passes it to him.

"Nah, this is fine." He starts to take a swallow, then raises his bottle to clink against Elliot's "Slainte," he says wryly.

They drink in silence for a few minutes. "So," Dec finally begins. "I guess you know that Olivia told me, and that I talked to Kathy a little while ago."

Elliot nods, not sure what to expect. "How are you doing?" he asks quietly. "You know we never meant to hurt you, right?"

Declan gives a little snort of laughter, then stops himself. "Yeah, I know," he sighs. He raises his eyes to look Elliot full in the face. "I just wanted to stop by and say...thank you."

Elliot is dumbfounded. "Thank you?"

Declan continues to hold his gaze. "For giving Olivia what she wanted most—the one thing I could never give her—a child of her own. I know it couldn't have been easy decision for you."

Now Elliot is truly speechless. This is the last thing he expected to hear. He lowers his gaze and peels at the label on his bottle, trying to think of an appropriate response. An image of Olivia, naked in the shower, allowing him to take her from behind, flashes through his mind and he quickly pushes it away, his cheeks reddening in a hot burn. He never allows himself to revisit that weekend. How can Declan even stand to sit at the same table with him? He wouldn't, if he knew the things they had done to conceive August.

"I don't know what to say, Dec," he says finally, raising his hands in a gesture of helplessness. "I care about Olivia, she's family. We—Kathy and I both—wanted her to be happy."

Declan nods slowly. He finishes his beer and sets the bottle down on the table with a clink. "There's only one thing I need to know."

Elliot's heart sinks. He can't be about to ask for details of that weekend, can he? He will not, cannot, talk to Olivia's husband about that, for christsakes.

"August." Declan continues. "If we're going to be a real family, Olivia and August and I—I have to be her father. Her only father."

It feels like he has dodged a bullet, like a huge weight has been lifted from his shoulders. "That's what I want too, man." Elliot says softly. "I know you love her and you'll take care of her. I've got no claim on her."

Declan nods again, as if this sentence confirms something for him. He stands, and moves around the table to extend his hand to Elliot, confirming their agreement with a handshake.

Just then, the front door flies open and Eli comes barreling in, followed by Kathy, whose eyes are wide with concern. When she pulled into the driveway and saw Declan's car, all she could imagine was that he'd had a sudden change of heart and come to take it out on Elliot, who wouldn't be able to defend himself in his still-weak condition. Seeing him standing over her seated husband does nothing to alleviate her fears.

"Uncle Dec!" Eli cries, running to the kitchen before she can stop him and throwing his arms around his legs. "Did you bring August? Where is she?"

Declan rests a hand on Eli's head, tipping it back so he can see his face. "She's not with me, buddy. I just stopped by to see your dad for a minute." He looks at Elliot, a small smile playing across his face. "But we'll all get together soon, I promise."

Elliot gives him a small nod. Not a lot of words have been exchanged, but they've reaching an understanding.

Olivia is sitting at her desk, trying to concentrate on the pile of files in front of her, but failing miserably. She is so tired and her mind keeps wandering to thoughts of Declan, wondering where he is and what he is doing. She hears footsteps and looks up to see him walking toward her desk. She blinks, wondering if she has conjured up a hallucination from a combination of fatigue and hopes. He looks tired and worn, but there is a smile on his face. Is he coming to tell her they are through? He wouldn't be smiling if that was his plan, would he? He stops in front of her.

"I wanted to let you know I'm heading home early," he says, as if absolutely nothing has happened. "I'll start dinner, okay? What time do you think you'll be home?"

She stands up and looks at him in astonishment, then throws her arms around him, burying her face in his neck. "Oh, Dec," she whispers. Over his shoulder, she sees Cragen start to come out of his office, see them and turn around to go back in. She pulls away and gives her husband a tremulous smile. "I love you," she says softly.

He bends and gives her a quick kiss. "I love you, too." He smiles again and is gone, heading out the door with a long, confident stride.

When she arrives home that night, the apartment is redolent with aroma of cooking food.

"Oh my God, what is that?" Olivia asks as she drops her coat over the back of a chair in the entryway. These weren't the first words she had intended to say, but the smells are so appetizing her mouth is watering and she realizes she has barely eaten all day. Her stomach rumbles in anticipation.

"Prime rib and oven roasted vegetables," says Declan from the stove. He has August in her highchair, far away from the heat to not get burned, but close enough to keep her occupied while he cooks, with measuring cups and spoons which she is gleefully throwing on the floor for him to pick up again. He has showered and changed clothes and looks more rested than when she saw him earlier. It is a scene of such domestic harmony that Olivia's heart seizes up for a minute. I almost lost this, all of this.

On the counter is an open bottle of wine and two glasses. He fills one and offers it, his eyes locked on hers. She accepts the glass, but immediately sets it down on the counter so she can wrap her arms around him, holding him as tightly as she can, her head against his chest so that she can hear the strong thump of his heart. He puts his own around her and they sway together for a moment.

"Dec, I was so scared," she tells him, tipping her face up so she can see his. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I didn't tell you from the beginning, and I promise, I'll never keep anything from you again. I love you."

"I know," he says softly, bending down to kiss her. "We're good."

Their tender moment ends when August, feeling ignored, throws a set of metal measuring spoons on the floor as hard as she can and simultaneously shrieks. Her parents laugh, and pull apart.

"Feeling left out, baby girl?" Olivia asks, lifting her out of the high chair. August beams, happy to be the center of attention again. "Where's Mariclair?" she asks.

"I told her we didn't need her this evening and she's gone out with friends, some of the other au pairs from the agency," Declan tells her, putting his arm around both of his girls and bending to give Olivia a lingering kiss. "She won't be back until late."

Olivia smiles up at him. A little privacy can be a good thing.

After dinner, they bathe August together, and Declan reads her a book before rocking her to sleep. At this stage, she's more interested in grabbing at the book to try and chew the pages, but Kathy has passed on a pile of Eli's baby-proof board books that stand up to little teeth. After a few half-hearted attempts to swipe at the book, August settles back into the crook of her father's arm and listens as he reads:

Goodnight stars,

Goodnight air

Goodnight noises everywhere.*

Olivia lies on the single bed in her daughter's room, watching them together and feeling her heart swell with pride. She can't quite believe that she has told Declan the truth and he has forgiven her; she's a little nervous about the conversation that will take place after August is asleep. When the story is finished, she gets up and places a kiss on both Augusts' and Declan's foreheads. "I'm going to take a quick shower," she tells him and on her way out of the room, turns off all of the lights except for a dim lamp on the far side of the room.

She is standing under the almost-hot water, rolling her head on her shoulders to release the tension of the past twenty-four hours when she hears the door to the shower stall slide open and feels a rush of cooler air.

"Mind if I join you?" her husband asks, a grin on his face. "I'm feeling a little dirty."

Olivia gives him a slow smile of her own and passes him the bottle of shower get she was just about to use. "I'll never say no to having my back scrubbed," she says, her voice low and husky. Declan squeezes some gel into the palm of his hand and she turns her back to him, lifting her heavy hair so he has complete access. He washes her back as requested, but then turns her and pulls her close against his body so that her back is against his hard chest. She can feel the heat of his erection against her ass and she presses back into it, eliciting a small groan.

He reaches around her with his arms, pours more gel into one hand and begins to soap her front as she relaxes against him. Now he takes his time, spreading the fragrant suds over her neck, collarbones and breasts, taking a few extra minutes to tease her nipples into hard points. As she moans in satisfaction, he slides his hand down her abdomen and between her legs. She presses back against him even harder, sliding her now soapy backside against the growing bulge of his erection. Declan rinses the soap off his hand before circling her clit with his finger, and then sliding one, then two fingers into her moist depths. Olivia closes her eyes and gives in to the sensation as he brings his other hand up to her breast and synchronizes circling her nipple with the same movement down below. After a few minutes she is so aroused she can't stand it and pulls herself away with difficulty to face him.

"I want you inside me," she says in that same husky voice. Declan slides his hands under her to lift her to the windowsill. The spacious shower stall was custom built into the bathroom of the pre-WW2 building in which they live and includes an old window with frosted glass in which the woodwork has been replaced with water-resistant tile. They realized, not long after moving in, that the wide sill of the window was perfect not only for storing shampoo and soap, but for making love.

Declan takes her face between his hands and plants kisses all over her face—eyes, cheeks, the corners of her lips. He nibbles at her bottom lip and pulls it into his mouth, sucking gently. After all of his caresses, Olivia is too impatient to play games and reaching down, grasps his thick, heavy erection in her hand and guides him to where she wants him.

"You're in a hurry," Declan comments, making no effort to help her. He continues to nuzzle and nibble at her face and neck as she slides her hips down to force him to enter her.

"Don't be such a tease, Dec," she groans, as her efforts fail without his cooperation. He laughs, a slow deep chuckle and finally obliges her, aligning his hips with hers until he slides in with one long smooth movement. She moans with pleasure, and wiggles on the wet sill until they are perfectly matched up. She leans forward so that her forehead is resting against his, her wet hair covering both of their faces. Her arms wrapped around his neck, she also wraps her legs around his waist to give him a better angle as he begins a slowly steady rocking in and out motion. His hands slide down to grip her ass, pulling in her in even tighter. They are joined and touching everywhere, hands, mouths and all of the places that matter.

"Liv," he groans after a few minutes, and reaches between their bodies to rub her clit again. He is close to finishing himself and he wants her to come along with him. The extra friction is all she needs and it isn't long before she buries her face into his shoulder as the waves of an orgasm ride over her. He follows close behind, with a guttural groan that adds a few more waves to her pleasure ride. They collapse against each other, the water of the shower still pounding on the tile behind them.

"I think you bit me," Declan says with astonishment when he recovers, and sure enough, when Olivia pulls away to look, there is a clear imprint of teeth on his shoulder. She was so wrapped up in her pleasure that she didn't even realize she was doing it. She presses her lips, and then her tongue against the marks, soothing the sting.

"God, I love make-up sex," Declan comments, as they towel off in the bathroom a few minutes later. "What can we fight about next?"

Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown, 1947, HarperCollins