Thirty-six.

(Note: Credit for words 4,122-the end of the paragraph go to JennBenson)

The last time Ed and Olivia were called in for a parent-teacher conference Noah was guilty of hitting a boy who had broken his pink pastel which Noah was planning to use to color his small sister's crib. That particular conference seemed like a lifetime ago. Ed felt more at ease this time, but Olivia was keyed up. Ed insisted if the matter were serious, the teacher would have called right away or used as soon as possible rather than at your convenience. Nevertheless, Olivia kneaded her hands nervously while they waited for Ms. Davidson to enter the conference room.

"Good morning," she said brightly, walking around the table and taking a seat before Ed and Olivia had a chance to stand and shake hands. They mumbled polite greetings and waited.

"Thank you for coming in," she continued, "I know it's hard to get away from work."

Ed half-glared back at her.

Olivia managed a polite smile.

Ed grabbed one of her balled fists and managed to unfurl her fingers and hold her hand.

Miss Brynn, seeing she had a tough audience, got right to the point. "Noah is still doing very well. He's certainly ready for Kindergarten, and we'll talk about the options for math at the end of the year, in a month or so. But, the reason I called you in today is because we're a little concerned about a social matter."

Ed raised his eyebrows, curious about what she was going to say. The phone, apparently, wasn't the issue.

Olivia finally spoke. "Social matter? He always has positive things to say about his friends and about school."

Miss Brynn smiled sweetly. "I'm sure he does. Noah has lots of friends. He is very popular with the other kids. And, that's where I'm wondering if there's a problem."

"How is being popular a problem?" Ed asked, adding, "At five?"

"We, teacher's aides and I, think Noah may be a little too generous. He will give up his place in line to let other kids go ahead of him. He'll switch to the floor during art if another student needs an easel. He lets other kids borrow his jacket, even if it's cold outside and he could really use it. He shares so much of his lunch, sometimes I wonder if he's having enough to eat."

Clearly annoyed, Ed shifted to the edge of the chair. He felt Olivia squeeze his hand in restraint, but he couldn't stop himself from defending his son and questioning the teacher. "Please tell me why any of this is a problem," he said. "I mean, we teach our son to be polite and kind, it's kinda hard to explain this fine line you're drawing. At five," he emphasized again.

"We so appreciate Noah's conduct," Miss Brynn replied, maintaining her composure, "But I'm worried he does not advocate for himself enough."

Now it was Olivia's turn to be the calm one at the table. "He never seems unhappy. He never describes being a pushover or not getting something he wants or needs at school. I truly believe he's…he's been raised to be a sweet boy, and I would like for him to stay that way as long as possible." The teacher started to interject, but Olivia confidently added to her point. "When the time comes to teach him to advocate for himself, we'll do it. But right now? I prefer not to say anything to him."

On the way out, they stopped by the classroom to say goodbye to Noah, but the students had already been ushered into music class. Ed suggested coffee and Olivia accepted without checking her phone; she needed to clear her head before going in to work. She snagged an outdoor table at a nearby café while Ed ordered their drinks at the counter. He set her coffee in front of her, already prepared with her preferred amounts of cream and sugar.

"Too nice," Olivia remarked, obviously baffled, "Our son…is too nice. And today that warrants a parent-teacher conference."

"It's bullshit," Ed muttered.

Olivia was more willing to consider Miss Brynn's perspective. "Maybe, she does have a point. I don't want Noah to think it's okay for people to walk all over him."

"We need to find out if the school actually supports this," he said, completely disregarding the possibility that Noah's teacher had a point, "And if so, maybe we need to look into different schools."

Olivia blew into her coffee and took a cautious sip. "He loves this school. And they've been good for him—Spanish, art, music, the math. I really think she had good intentions, Ed."

Ed stared at the table. He and Olivia were going to have to agree to disagree on this one.

"Let's talk to him tonight," Olivia suggested gently, wanting to be on the same page as her husband, "Sort of, subtly bring it up? Ask him about it without asking about it?" A smile grew on her face, "You know how to do that, right?"

"So do you," Ed replied, his eyes twinkling. He felt the tension leave his body; Olivia knew how to calm him down. "Whatcha got goin on today?"

"Two open cases," Olivia reported, "And I'm going to talk to the agent. I don't know exactly how this works."

"I think you sign something, write a brilliant book, and win a Pulitzer Prize."

Grinning, Olivia reached for his hand that wasn't holding his cup. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being so enthusiastic."

"Whydja think I wouldn't be?"

"It, um," Olivia twisted her rings, took a deep breath, and met his eyes, "You know everything. And I know how you worry. I thought, maybe, you'd worry about me reliving all that trauma, putting it on paper, putting it out there, to be judged."

Ed's face filled with every single ounce of love he had for her, and it nearly knocked her backwards. "I am a little concerned about that," he admitted softly, "But not enough to think it's a reason not to write it. I think I'll always worry about ya…but I'm so happy that you're at the point where you feel comfortable laying it all out there, whatever you choose to include, and kinda sayin' this is what happened, this is how I handled it, and…in a way…not caring so much about what other people think."

"I care what you think. What my family thinks."

"We admire you. We love you. And, think about…having that finished product in your hands," he grinned proudly and paused for effect, "Promise you won't leave me when you're famous?"

He was kidding of course, but leave me stung. Nevertheless, she retorted, "Of course not. I'll need a handsome man like you to escort me to…wherever famous authors get escorted."

"Good. It'll be my pleasure."

Olivia whistled softly, "All this planning for fame, and I've yet to write a sentence."

Ed sat back and took a drink. "I bet it'll take less time that you think."

…..

Detective Fletcher meticulously organized files from the two cases he was working on and put them back into their respective boxes. Before returning them to the storage room he double checked his notes and emailed them to Carisi who would double check them before they were passed on to Barba, who was nearing the end of his tenure in the DA's office. At the beginning of June, he would take the vacant Superior Court seat, and his relationship with the squad would change drastically.

The Lieutenant breezed in mid-morning, fresh from her coffee date with Ed and in an obvious good mood. She said hello to everyone and summoned Rollins into her office, asking her to close the door.

"What's up?" Amanda asked.

Olivia flipped open her laptop and tossed her keys in the top desk drawer. "How's Fletcher working out?"

"Amazingly well," she said, almost gushing, "He's…a little overzealous at times, but he's got an eye, he's smart, and he's great with perps and vics."

"Good. I want to give Carisi a little time off in the next couple of weeks, so Fletcher would be able to pick up the slack?"

"I don't see why not. Everything okay with Brooke?" By now, her pregnancy was no longer a secret, but nobody knew Sonny had told Rollins about the miscarriage. Amanda bit her lip, hoping her question didn't reveal too much.

"Yeah, yeah," Olivia replied, "But I want them to get settled. Somewhere. The loft sold. Dave's upstate. I think their furniture and other things are either at Sarah's, in Staten Island, or in our basement. Now that everything's…over…they need to have some sense of stability."

"I get that."

"And I hate that he has to commute back and forth."

"Do they have plans to move back to the city?"

"Not that I know of. And there's Aidan's school. But I want them to have a plan, no matter what it is."

"Maybe they'll realize they like it out there? Especially after the baby's born?"

"Maybe." Olivia opened her email. As usual, several new messages greeted her, but the one from the publishing agent caught her eye. "So, anyway, when you make the schedule for the next few weeks, give Fletcher a few more shifts. I'll sign off on the overtime if I need to."

"Sure thing."

…..

The Tucker dinner routine largely depended on Olivia's schedule. When she was home at the normal time, the five of them ate together at the table, or, if she was really early, they went for an early meal at the pub. When work kept her later, Ed typically fed the kids at the island, and he waited to eat with his wife unless the evening stretched very late. In those situations he made a sandwich or picked at leftovers after Noah and the twins were asleep. Since returning from Quebec, Olivia had made it home by six-thirty every night, so family dinners had been the norm.

"This tastes so good, Ed," she raved, scooping a forkful of chicken and rice into her mouth. "Noah, isn't Daddy an excellent chef?"

"Yup!"

"Did you help?"

"Not t'day," Noah replied cheerfully, "Hadta do homework."

"Homework," Ed grumbled, "Preschool homework."

Olivia ignored her cranky husband, "Was it math?"

"Uh-huh!"

"Do you need help? Is it finished?"

"Yep! Just need ta check it!"

"I'll do that after we eat."

Nearby, Wyatt pounded on his tray and Ed loaded him up with more food. Maggie had eaten all her rice but eschewed the chicken. Ed tried to coax her into trying a bite. "C'mon, Maggie May. Need some protein in that diet, baby girl."

Olivia caressed Maggie's head, "She's not usually so picky. I hope she's feeling okay. She doesn't feel hot."

"Small sister eated my sandwich!"

Ed and Olivia quickly turned their attention back to Noah.

"How'd she get your sandwich, bud?"

"Had somea it left in my lunchbox. When I got home an' opened it up, I give it to her and she ate it ALL UP!"

"Okay," Olivia said with a smile, thinking of both the turkey sandwich she'd put in Noah's lunch and Miss Brynn telling them Noah shared too much of his food. She looked at Ed, and they silently agreed to broach the topic. "Sweet boy, tell us about lunch time at school. We've never talked about it before."

Noah chewed the bite he'd just taken and swallowed. "We eat at da long tables."

"Do you sit with the same friends all the time?"

"Uh-huh. Mia sit here," Noah pointed to his left, "And Nathan sit here." He pointed to the other side. "Then we eat then we go play."

"When I was in school," Ed said, "Me and my friends always traded stuff."

Noah giggled. "You eated lunch at da long tables?"

"Yep."

"Me too," Olivia added. "And I always traded for potato chips and cookies."

Noah didn't seem familiar with the whole lunchtime food trading process, so Ed prompted him further. "You still give Mia cookies?"

"Yup!" Noah said. "And she give ME 'nolis."

"Cannoli?"

"Uh-huh!"

"What about other kids?"

Noah thought. "Brendan has lotsa veg'bles, so I give him some chips. And ONE TIME," Noah's eyes widened, "Alex's mommy forgetted the sandwich! And Miss Brynn gave him one but he said YUCK. Then I gived him somea mine."

"Who has the best lunches?" Ed asked.

"ME!"

They appeared to be getting to the bottom of one of Miss Brynn's perceived problems. Ed and Olivia prided themselves on packing Noah good, if not elaborate, lunches, and they were not overly concerned with loading him up with healthy items. Sure, they included the obligatory carrot sticks and fruit, but there was also caramel dip for apples, different types of crunchy snacks, and sandwiches packed with deli meats and cheeses. Noah also always had cookies or a cupcake or, at the very least, a pudding cup.

Apparently, at lunch time, Noah simply wanted to spread his culinary wealth.

"After lunch, sweet boy, are you ever still hungry?"

"Nope!"

Ed and Olivia exchanged smiles. With this matter solved, they were content to drop the rest of the details brought up at the meeting. Ed mussed Noah's hair. "I'm glad you like school, pal. You do like school, right?"

"Right!"

"Well, if you ever don't like it you tell us, okay?"

"Kay."

"Or if something the other kids do…if they do something to bother you, tell us that, too."

"Kay." Noah's demeanor turned sullen.

Olivia frowned. "What's wrong, sweet boy?"

Noah mumbled something unintelligible and played with his fingers.

"What was that, sweetie?"

"Miss Brynn say not to play with Mia."

The words punched Olivia in the gut. Ed set his jaw and looked as if he would have punched Miss Brynn had she been sitting there.

"Why did she say that?"

Noah's chin started trembling. "Mia goed to timeout ONE, TWO times and then she say Mia's too hyper and LEAVE HER ALONE!" He was crying now and Ed plucked him from his chair. Seeing his brother upset caused Wyatt to fuss. Maggie, too, squirmed and shrieked. Ed cradled Noah and took him to the couch. Olivia quickly wiped down Maggie and Wyatt and put them on the floor, hoping they'd be distracted with their toys, and joined the other two. Noah reached for her and Ed handed him over.

"Shh, shh, shh," she chanted as he cried into her shoulder. After a few minutes his sobs dwindled to weak whimpers and she sat him in her lap. "Sweet boy. I know it must be tough when your friend has to go to timeout."

"Uh-huh. Then we can't play!"

Ed wiped Noah's residual tears with his thumb. "Bud, remember, Mia can always come to our house and play."

"She not hyper here," Noah moaned.

"No, she's not," Ed replied sharply as if Miss Brynn could hear him. He was pissed. How dare she tell his son not to play with his best friend?

"Noah," Olivia said softly, "Daddy and I always want you to listen to your teacher, okay? But we like Mia and know she's your very good friend and she can always be your friend, even if she's hyper at school."

"Mia jus' like to dance and sing and play!"

"Yeah."

"Tell us about the songs she sings."

As Noah rambled on and on about Mia's talents, his mood brightened and he eventually moved on to other topics. They resumed their meal and resumed their normal night—bath, books, and bedtime. With the kids tucked in, Ed and Olivia parked themselves on the couch with the news on but volume low, sipping bourbon.

"I'm gonna say something to her tomorrow when I pick him up," Ed grumbled. "What the hell is wrong with her?"

"Saying that to him," Olivia murmured, "How awful. I…I need to know what happened. Because I want him to follow directions, but I also want him to play with who he wants to play with."

"When she's not in timeout," Ed added.

"Right." She was devastated for her son, but Mia's poor conduct was mildly amusing. "What do you think she does?"

"Sounds like she's not into the whole…academic part of it."

"I think you're right."

"Guess Noah's gonna be the brains in the relationship."

Olivia swatted his leg. "Ed."

He took her glass and set it next to his on the coffee table, not bothering with coasters. He, too, hated seeing Noah in distress, but he loved parenting with Olivia. They made an excellent team.

"C'mere," he said right before his lips touched hers. They fell into the cushions with each other for a while, kissing, pausing for breaths and to exchange languid smiles. The apartment was silent save for the soft whirring of the dishwasher and the faint voices from the television. They passed the next couple of hours there, nestled together, Olivia under a throw blanket, patiently watching as Ed channel surfed. He finally settled on a late-night talk show, raised the volume, and they laughed at the witty monologue and the ensuing guest interviews. Ed asked Olivia if she wanted another drink. She did, but she didn't want either one of them to have to move. They were too comfortable. They fit too perfectly together.

So he stayed right there.

…

Carisi and Fletcher unlocked Sarah's apartment, and, to their surprise, found her on the sofa dressed in pajama pants and a tank top. Papers were scattered everywhere and she wore oversized, black-rimmed glasses, a rarely-seen accessory.

Carisi apologized for the intrusion. "Didn't realize you'd be home. We're here to grab the boxes from the guest room."

If Sarah was embarrassed about being braless and makeup-less in Fletcher's presence, she didn't show it. "No problem. I have a conference call late tonight because apparently the universe hates me, so I'm working from home." Sarah made a circular motion with her hands, regarding the mess. "Obviously."

"What do you do?" Fletcher asked.

"Finance. Global mergers and acquisitions."

"Sounds exciting."

"Key word being sounds," Sarah retorted dryly.

Carisi slapped Fletcher's back. "C'mon, Brad, let's get goin."

"Where are you taking everything?" Sarah asked. "And how are you taking everything?"

"Using my truck," Fletcher said proudly. "I think I'm the only guy with a pickup in Manhattan."

"Interesting vehicle choice."

"It was my first car. Came in handy when I did landscaping in college."

Sarah squinted at him. "You went to college and the police academy?"

"Sure."

"You look like you're sixteen."

Brad grinned. "I get that a lot."

"Fletcher," Carisi urged, "Let's go. You gotta get back and I have a pregnant wife craving everything from liver pate to cronuts, so let's get a move on, huh?"

Sarah stood up and stretched, revealing her belly button. "Need help?"

"If you want to carry some of these to the elevator that'd be great. I think we can get 'em all in one trip."

The trio went back to the guest bedroom and assessed the job. Sarah started picking up smaller boxes, her loose tank top and lack of underwear leaving very little to the imagination. Fletcher blushed and picked up two larger boxes.

"Want me to leave so ya can finish your striptease?" Carisi asked under his breath when he heard the door open and was sure Fletcher couldn't hear him.

Sarah glared at him. "Oh stop. If you would've called first I would've had some clothes on. But you didn't. So you get this." She whirled around and skipped out of the room. "Brad! Brad! Hold the door! I'm right behind ya!"

….

Carisi put Fletcher's truck to good use that day, managing to transport all their smaller, boxable belongings to the Connecticut garage. He seemed in good spirits and accepting of the temporary relocation, and tried to look on the bright side. The commute wasn't that bad, and living for free for a few months was a huge bonus. Most importantly, Brooke felt comfortable there, and Aidan didn't have to change schools.

When Fletcher left Carisi with the full pickup to go back to the precinct, he told the older detective to keep the vehicle as long as he needed. Carisi had planned to hire movers for the larger furniture, the only pieces still remaining in the loft, but he called Ed to see if he could help move the items later that night. Ed, of course, said yes.

"I won't be long," he said, kissing Olivia goodbye. "Sure ya don't want help?"

They had just finished dinner and Olivia was cleaning the kitchen while Noah and the twins played in the living room. She smiled appreciatively, said she was sure, and kissed him goodbye. After she put the final clean plate away, she plopped down on the floor with her children.

"Whatcha playin?"

"We a band," Noah informed her. "Maggie playin' the piano, Wyatt has the bongos, and I have the micr'phone."

"Oh! The Tucker trio. Trio means a group of three," Olivia explained.

Noah grinned approvingly. "Good name, Mommy! But, here!" He handed her a tambourine. "You play dis and you're FOUR!"

"That's a quartet. When Daddy comes back that will be five, so then we can be a quintet."

"Quar-tet," Noah repeated. "Quin-tet." He said both words a few more times, liking the sound. "Kay, babies! Let's start playin!"

The broke into a discordant tune; Noah's lyrics began with "Had nuggies for dinner," and continued with more ordinary observations set to song. Maggie and Wyatt cooperated for longer than Olivia predicted, and Noah taught them how to bow.

"Gotta do it when the people clap!" Noah instructed. "Everrbody say 'YAY! Great song!' Then we bow!" He demonstrated then helped Maggie and Wyatt with their own versions.

"Noah, you're so good to Maggie and Wyatt. I'm so proud of you for being such a great big brother."

As usual, Noah brushed off the compliment, mumbled a humble "thanks," and went back to playing. They moved on to other toys and Olivia became an observer, occasionally running her hands over the twins' heads and pulling them over for kisses and quick cuddles. She played with their brown curls—the contact annoyed Maggie and she grabbed for her Mommy's hand, but Wyatt leaned back into Olivia and grinned, his chubby cheeks puffing outward and his blue eyes sparkling. She used the opportunity to check his mouth for new teeth.

"Got a couple more coming in, big guy," she said, releasing him and grabbing Maggie, "And so do you, sweet girl." In a rare moment of compliance, Maggie curled up in Olivia's arms.

"Mama," she cooed softly.

"Yes, sweetheart, Mama. Mama loves you very much."

"Mommy, you wanna check my teeth?" Noah asked.

"Sure, sweet boy," Olivia peered into his mouth. "Yours are all in. But I don't think any are loose!"

"Loose?"

"Yes. Nobody at school has lost a tooth?"

"Nope."

"Well, when you get older your adult teeth come in." She showed her teeth to Noah, "Like these. And they push your baby teeth out."

"Oh," Noah murmured with interest. "You have pretty teeth, Mommy."

"Thank you. And you have nice teeth too. Speaking of, let's go brush them and get ready for bed. It's almost time for books."

"Kay!"

"Go ahead and pick out your PJs and I'll get Maggie and Wyatt in their jammies."

"Kay!"

"Meet ya on the big chair?" Olivia held up her hand for a high five.

Noah smacked her palm. "DEAL!"

…

Ed crept into their home a few minutes after ten o'clock. He and Sonny ended up making two trips back and forth, and they stopped for a much needed beer after dropping the truck off back at the precinct. Ed offered to drive Sonny back to Connecticut, but he insisted he'd take the train. They ducked into a nondescript pub by Penn Station and had their drinks; Sonny was less effusive than usual, but Ed assumed it was due to exhaustion. It had been a long day, and he was glad Olivia arranged for him to have a four-day-weekend to recover and take care of Brooke at the house.

He found the kitchen and living area tidy and clean. Toys had been put away, magazines stacked, and the remote controls were neatly lined up on the coffee table. In case Maggie was still awake, he decided against checking on the twins. He did poke his head into Noah's room and smiled at his cherubic face. Bernie was tucked under one arm, and a Quebec bear was under the other.

In the master bedroom the floor lamp hanging over the easy chair was on and spotlighting Olivia who had fallen asleep working on her laptop. Her head rested against the rear cushion at an uncomfortable-looking angle, and the computer teetered precariously on her thighs. Ed tiptoed up to her and gingerly removed her glasses. Next he lifted the computer. He noticed she'd written over two thousand words and was eager to read them, but out of respect for her privacy he clicked "save" and closed the laptop, leaving it on the ottoman. He slid one arm around her back and the other under her knees.

"To bed we go," he whispered, scooping her up and kissing her head in the process.

She mumbled something, sighed, and put her head against his chest. Ed only needed a few steps to lay her down on her side of the bed. Since the room was a little warm he draped only the flat sheet over her and cracked the window to let in the cool night breeze. After trading his clothing for a pair of boxers, he crawled into bed.

Olivia made a noise, something between a whimper and a whine, and groped around blindly for her husband. Ed had been considerately settling in on his side, trying not to further disturb her.

"I'm right here, Liv."

She grabbed his arm and slung it across her chest, forcing him to scoot closer, so close they were sharing a pillow.

"Cold?" He asked. Either he'd opened the window too wide or the temperature was cooler than he'd felt on the street.

Olivia wedged one of her legs between his and firmly gripped his forearm.

"Not anymore."

…..

#Tuckson