Chapter 36

New York City, New York

Office of the NYPD Internal Affairs Bureau

Wednesday, 1:30 p.m.

A week later, Olivia shifted her weight in the uncomfortable plastic chair that the Internal Affairs Bureau had set up in the middle of the room. Looking up, she saw the hardened features of four strange faces belonging to people who looked as though they would like nothing better than to bend her over their knees and spank her, much less take her gun and badge away.

"Detective Benson," a white-haired man with an unkempt beard said with a cough, "what I am having trouble understanding is why, knowing as you did that the DEA had already set up a sting operation designed to result in Cesar Velez's capture and arrest, you felt it incumbent upon yourself to sneak into Mr. Velez's hotel room and interrupt his schedule, thwarting the DEA's carefully-designed plan."

"You were hoping you'd get the chance to kill him," accused a younger, though no more friendly-looking man, this one with short red hair and reed-thin lips. "You're a vigilante, aren't you, Detective?"

Olivia breathed deeply, having prepared for these questions and more. "The DEA had been investigating Velez for years," she said, evenly. "He was under investigation when he arranged the shooting that he intended to result in the death of a Manhattan Assistant District Attorney. The fact that he was being investigated was of little comfort to-"

"So you thought you could do the DEA's job for them, do it a little better?" snickered the first man.

"No," she snapped, without intending to. "But I didn't want him to slip through their fingers again, and honestly, with the DEA's plan, I knew that was a substantial possibility. Probability. It allowed far too much movement between the hotel and attorney's office. Velez could have eluded the federal agents at any one point – and I knew that I could detain him long enough for an arrest to be made."

"How did you know that?" asked the only female agent in the room, a portly woman with a smart, though ill-fitting, suit.

"Years of experience. I'm good at what I do," Olivia answered, aware that, once again, she had just sounded far more egotistical than she had intended.

"That may well be true, Detective Benson," quipped Red. "But the fact is that a man is dead, and the goal was to capture him alive. Flipping Velez could have brought down a hundred other gangsters."

"You're assuming Velez could be flipped," Olivia said, feeling her face flush, and remembering that Huang had once told her when a person's heart rate climbed past 140, that person could no longer think straight – hence the utility of provoking such a reaction when interrogating a perp. Breathing deeply. Olivia fought to keep her own composure. "More than likely, if he'd been taken alive – and, you know, that's a big assumption. You've reviewed the plan, and you know that my analysis is correct. If he'd been taken alive, he would have retained the best defense attorneys in New York. The trial would have drug on for months, during which time God knows how many cops and federal agents would have had their names drug through the mud, with the public wondering why so many innocent people and at least one public servant had to die – and another nearly died – and why such a vast quantity of drugs made it into New York so that the DEA could try… try… to get useful information out of this guy." She took a breath, knowing she'd just sealed her fate either way.

"And you're adamant that you didn't go there intending to shoot him?" asked White Hair.

"I am," Olivia said. Steeling her face, she admitted, "Though I was prepared to do so if – and only if – he fired first. He did, as the audio and video taken that day confirm."

The four faces looked at one another, at Olivia, and back at one another. Finally, the woman spoke up. "Thank you, Detective Benson," she said, clearing her throat. "We'll notify you of our decision soon – this week, probably."

Nodding, Olivia stood. She lifted her jacket off the chair, left the room, and heaved a sigh of relief. No matter what happened in the aftermath, at least this part was over.

New York City, New York

Wednesday, 1:45 p.m.

Alex had anticipated that she would be anxious to hear from Olivia after the interview with Internal Affairs, but she hadn't counted on it making her so nervous that she could scarcely think straight. When Olivia called to tell her it was already over, she was relieved – even more so when Olivia suggested that Antonio join them for a late lunch from one of her favorite guilty pleasures – a sinfully delicious kebab cart not far from where Police HQ. Antonio hadn't been told how Olivia was spending her morning, and Alex knew that if Olivia wanted him around, it was because she wanted to forget the morning, not spend more time discussing dwelling on it.

"Hey, Kiddo," Olivia smiled at Antonio, messing his hair as she leaned to plant a kiss on his forehead. He was thrilled to be back in New York, and it showed. "Enjoy your sleepover?"

"Yeah," he said, smiling and trying to comb his hair back into place with his fingers. He had been nervous about seeing his best friend, Javier, after so long, worried that they might not have much left in common. To his delighted surprise, once Javier had gotten over the surprise of seeing his friend returned from the dead, their conversation had flowed as easily as though they had never been apart. "I'm kind of sad that I'm not going to school with my friends, though."

"We've talked about this," Alex frowned.

"I know. I'm just saying."

"You're lucky to be going to Dalton next year," Olivia said, backing Alex up as they walked away from the cart, each carrying a greasy sandwich wrapped in foil. "It's one of the best schools in the City."

"I know," Antonio insisted, his tone slightly annoyed. "But I'm going to play soccer in the City League, though. So I can see the kids I already know."

Alex shrugged when Olivia eyed her suspiciously. "It was a compromise," she explained airily.

Olivia smirked – she already knew that she and Alex would be making plenty of compromises themselves in the days to come. The next order of business was finding a place to live. Olivia's apartment was functional as a place to stay this week, since Antonio was dividing his time between his aunts and friends. Still, it was obvious that they needed to line something else up for their return to New York in the summer. Tapping her paper cup of soda to Alex's, she murmured, "Well, here's to compromise."

New York City, New York

Friday, 4:45 p.m.

As Friday neared its end, Olivia resigned herself to spending the weekend with her professional future still hovering somewhere overhead. "I knew they wouldn't call this week," she muttered, flopping ungracefully onto her sofa.

"It means they're not sure," Alex said, trying for the fortieth time that day to read some meaning into IAB's failure to call Olivia right away. "That could be a good thing. Casey and Elliot seemed to think they'd already decided against you, but if that were the case, we'd have heard by now." She sat down beside Olivia, and tenderly traced a small circle on the other woman's knee with her index finger. "I think the news is going to be good."

"Me too," Olivia allowed herself to admit. "Maybe I'm just not ready to consider that it won't be."

"As long as we're together…" Alex began, and stopped speaking when Olivia interrupted her with a soft kiss. Alex felt a sigh leave her lips as she leaned forward, letting her body go weak against Olivia's strong and solid form, relaxing into the comforting feeling of lean and muscled arms closing around her.

"Finding a place to live took no time at all," Olivia mused, thinking about how, after all that arguing, they had agreed on the first place they'd seen – an attractive, in no way ostentatious townhouse not far from the precinct or from Antonio's school. It was decidedly bigger than Olivia's current apartment, and the neighborhood was nicer – but it lived like a home, not a museum. They were both charmed. "Maybe that's a good omen?"

"I think so," Alex smiled, pressing their lips together again as Olivia's cell phone began to vibrate.

Olivia frowned as she reached across the table to examine the identification on her Caller ID. "IAB," she said, exhaling mightily.

Alex raised a hopeful eyebrow as Olivia flipped the phone open.

"Benson," she said, closing her eyes and steeling herself for the relief – or the blow – of a lifetime.

Alex watched nervously as Olivia listened to a voice she heard only as an occasional faint buzz. She couldn't tell from her lover's monosyllabic responses and motionless features whether the news was good, bad, or somewhere between the two. Finally, Olivia gave a small nod and thanked the caller. She flipped the phone shut, and opened her eyes slowly.

"Liv?" Alex finally asked, after almost a full minute of silence.

"I'm officially not a murderer…"

Alex grinned.

"…but I interfered with a federal investigation," Olivia said, rubbing her forehead. "And that's going to cost me a six-month suspension without pay." She shook her head slowly. "I suppose I'm supposed to feel lucky I didn't lose my job, right?"

"Yes, Dummy," Alex chuckled affectionately, twisting a lock of hair behind Olivia's hair.

"And lucky I have a beautiful, rich girlfriend who's going to make sure that I don't have to starve for the next six months?" Olivia asked, managing a small smile.

"That's right," Alex said, her full lips curling into a full-on smile as Olivia lifted her onto her lap. Alex hooked her legs around Olivia's back and nuzzled her neck as Olivia's arms stroked her sides softly.

"I do," Olivia said quietly. "I really, really do…"