The Cragen Residence, 6PM

Olivia had just arrived in the dining room for dinner when the phone rang.

"I'll get it, Marmee," she said to Marge, who was slicing off a chicken drumstick for Maddie.

Reaching the kitchen extension, she noted the time and hoped that it was the call she had been anticipating for several days.

"Hello, Dad?"

"Hello, Olivia, I hope you haven't been answering the phone like that all day!"

"No, I figured that only you--and one of those pesky survey machines--would dare call at the dinner hour!"

"Hi Daddy!" Maddie hollered from the dining room, earning a reproving look from Marge.

"Tell Madison hello, and not to yell like that," Don said, who nonetheless sounded slightly amused. Then, more soberly he continued: "We've located little Stephan."

For a moment she could not reply. There were a mixed emotions circulating through her: satisfaction (Well done, everyone), a sense of closure (Mission accomplished, Uncle Max!), a mite of regret (Wish you were here to celebrate), and…what? A sense of purpose? (But how?! I've wanted to be a prosecutor since before my teens, and I still look forward to--

"Hello? Olivia?"

"Sorry, Daddy, I was just lost in the moment there," she said, slight tremble in her voice. "This is the best news I've heard in long time."

"That makes two of us. Look, I have a visitor, so we're gonna have to continue this conversation later--especially if you stay up studying, young lady!"

"Daa-dee!" Then, still chuckling, "See you later."

"Later, honey."

Back at the station, Don hung up and faced the waiting Benjamin Stone, who stood in the doorway. "Sorry. Didn't see you there, Ben."

"That's OK; you're entitled to be distracted under the circumstances," the ADA replied in his usual placid manner, smiling as he entered the office. Sitting in a chair opposite Cragen, he added: "I take it you were speaking to my future successor?"

Amused and proud, Cragen nodded. "Needless to say, she's very pleased with the outcome."

"She should be; she helped to close the case," Stone said. "Remember, she convinced a key informant to come forward and literally held her hand during her interview! She really has a way with people."

A way we could use more often on the force, Don thought. But his mind shot back to Max's funeral, and he only nodded in agreement.

"Of course, we're not out of the woods, yet," Ben reminded, sobering. "We still have to obtain court the court order for DNA testing, and the boy's custody has to be adjudicated."

"And we still have a murder to investigate," Don added. "Although the husband is our prime person of interest, we both know that Hell hath on fury than a wife cheated on1!"

Days later, a Brooklyn cemetery

Laying the bouquet of pink carnations on the still-green grass, Olivia squatted in front of Max Greevey's headstone.

"Well, today in Family Court the judge gave custody of little Stephan to his grandparents," she explained. "Needless to say"--she wiped a tear from the corner of her eye--"they were ecstatic." Her voice broke with the last word, and she had to stop to collect herself.

"His father," she resumed, "didn't think he could handle raising a baby, so he settled for 'liberal visitation.' Meanwhile, his wife got life in prison, so she has less than everyone--including the adoptive parents. You know, I do feel sorry for them. All they wanted was a child, and they were willing to pay exuberant 'legal and administrative fees' for a chance at parenthood. That's why I promised them--at their home, hours after the hearing, please don't tell anyone2--that I would keep my ears open and let them know if--when a baby needs a good home. They didn't seem to believed me, but I mean every word!"

Her toes were now aching in her black boots, so she carefully sat down, clasping her hands under her bent knees to keep her skirt in place. After all, she was visiting her conservative Uncle Max! Then she continued.

"Your family is doing fine. And of course, people are still looking out for Marie and the kids. For example, Mom's taking the boys trick-or-treating with Maddie. And Shirley Profaci--Tony's wife--she's already promised to watch the boys when Marge starts school in January..."

A sudden dimming caught her attention. Olivia quickly looked overhead and saw the masses of large grey clouds moving swiftly. A chilly breeze generated leaf showers nearby. Standing up, she gave one last missive.

"Remember our last visit, when I told you about my ride home with Mike? Well, after Dad informed me about the custody decision, Mike called to congratulate me for my 'assistance.' Judging from the backgroud noise, I'd say he used a pay phone. Plus, he rather slyly--and hesitantly--me 'deserving a just reward.' So, I guess he's…interested." She gave a chuckle. "I'm interested enough. Not that I'm going to ask him over for Harvey's Bristol Cream3, but when/if he dares to ask his boss' daughter for a date, I'll check my schedule."

She then prepared to depart. She stood up carefully, and, remembering the Jewish rite that Kenny had told her about, picked up a little stone and placed it on top of Max's gravestone. Finally, she whispered an affectionate "Love you!" and turn to walk towards the cemetery entrance.

Just as she reached the gates, she heard a voice call: "Olivia!" Even as she moved to look, she knew who it was. Even though it had been some years since they had last seen each other, she never forgot the voice of Elliot Stabler.

1 In fact, she turned out to be the murderer.

2 Olivia is sharing a laugh with Greevey.

3 In the 1980's television ads for the beverage featured a "modern" women asking men to their homes for a drink.