I wrote this one this week, it's not four years old! (I KNOW!) I'm getting this one up quickly because I know I have people waiting ;) but thank you so so much if you took the time to review the last chapter, your lovely feedback means the world and gave me the confidence to write this one from scratch. I've also had a ton of hate on instagram this week, so an extra thank you to those of you who've cheered me up- you know who you are.

As ever, feedback, positive or negative, and requests/suggestions always appreciated! :)

-IseultLaBelle x

Chapter 12

24 February 2014

She's longer answering the door than he's ever known her to be before, and for the briefest of moments, panic sets in as he stands, waiting on her doorstep.

Elliot knows it's ridiculous, but he can't quite help himself.

Not after the year she's had.

He knows how it is, remembers all-too-well, the four times over he and Kathy did this together- Maureen, though, especially, because she was the first, a shock to the system like nothing else he'd ever known before or since.

Adjusting to Maureen was a shock, and he and Kathy might have been young, still children themselves, practically, but at least they'd had nine months to mentally prepare themselves for the impending upheaval.

She's fine, Elliot tells himself firmly, shakes away the lingering anxieties, slowly-building panic.

She's fine; he can't do this to himself every time she doesn't answer the door straight away, or pick up her phone the first time he tries to call, or arrives into work a few minutes late.

She's fine.

The chances of it happening again are so, so slim.

The doormen are on it.

That's one of the reasons she and Brian picked this apartment, after all- Elliot tries to remind himself of all the reasons panicking right now, over this, is so ridiculous, as the seconds drag by and still the door remains firmly shut.

The security here is far tighter than Olivia's place on Amsterdam Avenue- the place she opted to rent out, in the end, not sell on, and perhaps he's reading far too much into that particular decision, but Elliot can't deny it crossed his mind when she told him that perhaps it was a sign she wasn't as totally convinced that this was it, that Brian was it, as perhaps she'd otherwise wanted him to believe.

(Kathy had rolled her eyes, asked him exasperatedly if anyonewould ever be good enough for Olivia as far as he was concerned, when he'd told her that- and he'd grumpily brushed it aside and told her that wasn't it at all, but of course it is.)

No, Elliot tells himself, still waiting on his partner's doorstep, wonders if knocking again at this point is acceptable or if that's crossing a line with a new baby in the apartment- he wouldn't know, he was working all hours half the time when his own kids were newborns and left everything bar fussing over the baby to Kathy the half he was home.

She's fine.

Of course she's fine.

Even if something managed to get past her building security, Cassidy is on it, Elliot reminds himself.

Cassidy who dutifully pulled the plug on his own undercover operation when he got the call, Cassidy who dropped everything, at first, supportive as anything.

Right up until the moment he arrived at the hospital, and realised the path he had somehow concluded was the only logical one his girlfriend could have possibly chosen was not in fact the one she had opted for, at least.

Olivia hasn't said as much- she wouldn't, too loyal to him for that. But Elliot has gained the distinct impression that since then, Cassidy hasn't been quite so supportive.

Still, though.

It's different, this time, he tries to reassure himself.

It's different.

She's living with Cassidy, now; he's in the apartment with her for now, taken some emergency time off work given the circumstances, but even when he's on shift, at least he's coming back to the same apartment, physically present.

He'd know, Elliot tells himself. He'd know- if something happened, Cassidy would know straight away, he'd raise the alarm…

She's fine.

Of course she's fine.

She's got a newborn now, for god's sake, a newborn she wasn't even the slightest bit prepared for mentally or practically, and she's got far too many stitches and tears in places Elliot would rather not think about.

Of courseshe's going to take far longer to answer the door and let him in than she would have before; of course she is, it's normal…

There's muffled shouting from within the apartment all of a sudden, a flurry of movement, and then at last the door opens, just a fraction at first, and then it swings open fully and he's face to face with the occupant of the apartment he absolutely has notcome to see.

"Cassidy," Elliot grunts awkwardly, shifts the holdall in his hands for something by means of a distraction.

"Stabler. You might as well come in, I guess. Liv's going to be a minute," Cassidy offers by means of explanation for his girlfriend's absence. "She's just finishing up feeding… you know."

"The baby?" Elliot suggests sarcastically.

God, he needs to stop.

He's only just arrived, for fuck's sake, and already his patience is wearing painfully thin, and Cassidy is going to have him kicked out his goddamned apartment if he keeps this up but he just can't help it.

He can't do it.

He can't sit back and watch anyone talk about Olivia's baby like this when Olivia herself has made it so perfectly clear that despite the awful circumstances, despite history repeating itself, this is what she wants.

Especially not when it's Olivia's boyfriend.

Cassidy shrugs. "Yeah. That. You want a beer?" he suggests, slides the bolt and safety chain back across the front door behind them as Elliot crosses the threshold. "I don't know how long Liv's going to be, she's been having issues with the whole feeding…"

"I know. What?" he asks, takes in the look of surprise in the other man's features. "She's my partner. I'm not going to stop messaging her just because she's on maternity leave."

"That what they're calling it now?" Cassidy leads him over to the fridge, rummages.

"I think Cragen called her this morning. She didn't tell you?"

"Obviously not." His partner's sorry excuse of a boyfriend is irate now, throws him a can a little too forcefully, but as he catches it one-handed, Elliot contemplates that he can't possibly be the sole cause of this apparent aggression.

It was there in Cassidy's features from the very moment he answered the door, and Elliot suspects it's been there for far longer than that, even.

"You need to ask Liv about it, then," he says simply- because it's none of his business, after all, not down to him to inform Olivia's boyfriend that Cragen has managed to negotiate with 1PP for her to have her six weeks' maternity leave on full pay from now, given she wasn't exactly in a position to start it seven weeks ago. "She been alright?"

Cassidy sighs heavily, frustration evident. "She's not been sleeping," he admits. "I mean, it's not exactly helping that she's been up every two hours trying to feed… you know…"

"The baby." Elliot takes a long swig of his beer. "That's kind of what they do…"

"What, and then feed an hour at a time? Liv's getting an hour in between feeds before the whole thing starts again, you're telling me that's normal…"

"Sure. One of mine was like that. That's totally normal, she'll settle down. She's barely a week old," he points out, doesn't intend for his tone to sound quite so defensive, but by the time he's realised, it's far too late. "She's sort of supposed to be high maintenance at this stage…"

"Yeah." Cassidy shifts awkwardly. "Except it's… you know…"

"I don't, actually." He does, of course, knows exactly where Cassidy is going with this, but he's daring him to say it out loud.

"It's just… it's the last thing Liv needs at the moment, you know?" Cassidy sighs. "The… you know. The birth, it's clearly brought it all back for her. Everything with the father…"

"Labour's notoriously traumatic for rape victims…"

"Yeah, but it's not just the labour, is it?" Cassidy objects. "She's got… she's adamant this is what she wants right now…"

"And it's her decision…"

"I know that. But she's… you'll see it. If she ever finishes feeding…" he trails off, shudders. "Feeding… if she's ever done in there, you'll see her, she's in shock…"

"You can't say it, can you?" Elliot accuses. "You can't even bring yourself to call her 'the baby,' let alone 'her.' I'm right, aren't I?"

There's a long silence.

"I think she's making a huge mistake," Cassidy says at last. "I think she's in shock, and she's wanted a baby since forever, and she's not thinking it through. She's always wanted… this… except not like this, you know? Who'd want it to happen like this? Let alone after how she came into the world herself. She thought she'd missed her chance to be a mom and this all went down and she hasn't had time to think, she's still in shock and she thinks she's just been given everything she's ever wanted, but she's in no fit state to be making a decision like this right now. I think she's going to turn around in a few weeks and realise she's made the biggest mistake of her life…"

Anger boils within him at the other man's assessment of the situation. "If you understood anythingabout Olivia and what she's had to go through," he begins furiously, hushed tones, can't bear the thought of his partner overhearing this, even though he strongly suspects Cassidy has had this conversation with her multiple times since she was discharged from the hospital. "If you appreciated how much her own childhood affected her, how her mom treated her because of what happened to her, then I'd seriously hope you'd know that she would never…"

Cassidy raises his eyebrows. "You don't think that's exactly why I think this is going to end so badly? I get that. Believe me, I get it. That's exactly what I'm afraid of…"

"She's not her mom," Elliot throws back defensively. "Liv's not…"

"I know," says Cassidy heavily. "I know. But…" He trails off, shakes his head. "Doesn't matter."

"No, go on?"

He knows, of course.

He knows full well that whatever it was Cassidy was about to say and then thought better of, he won't like it.

That's exactly why Elliot wants him to say it.

'It's just…" Cassidy sighs, inhales, seems to brace himself for the inevitable explosive response awaiting him on the other side of this confession. "I doubt Liv's mom was… you know. The way Liv remembers her. I doubt she became that way overnight when Liv was born, did she? It would have been a gradual thing, she might have felt exactly the same way Liv does right now at first, but then as time dragged on…"

Elliot slams his beer down onto the kitchen counter with a thud. "I really don't like where you're going with this," he warns lowly. "If you're trying to say you think Liv's going to turn into her mom because she's raising a baby who came from the same…"

Cassidy bites his lip. "You don't think that's a very real possibility? I just… I can't even look at… you know," he confesses. "I don't know how she can… you've seen what Liv's like with… the whole being mom thing, at the moment, but I don't see how she can keep it up once the shock wears off and it all starts to sink in a bit. I just… god, I feel awful even saying this…"

"Please tell me you haven't said any of this to Liv…"

"I resent… you know," Cassidy admits, visibly torn, anguished, clearly aware that how he's feeling is wrong, unfair, and yet apparently incapable of snapping himself out of it. "I mean… god… I get woken every other hour all through the night by the goddamned crying and I resent that, for Christ's sake. I'm being kept up all night and putting up with the shitty diapers and the screaming and the apartment being turned upside down for the spawn of William fucking Lewis, I resent… god, it sounds awful, but I resent just it being here. I wish it had never been born, for Liv's sake, I wish…"

"She," Elliot snaps back in correction. "Not it. She. And she's the same as Liv," he points out, firm, uncompromising, because god knows Olivia is being set up to fail if this is the environment she's been discharged from hospital into, if this is the attitude of the man she's raising this baby with, and he will not and cannotbring himself to stand back and watch that happen, not knowing how desperately his partner has longed to be a mother. "How can you say that about her when she came into the world exactly the same way Liv did, how can you…"

"She hasn't even given her a name, Elliot," Cassidy argues. "It's been a week, and she hasn't even given her a name yet, you don't think that's a sign that she's…"

"No, I don't. She didn't even know she needed to think of names this time last week, did she?" Elliot retorts. "Kathy and I talked names over for weeks with our older four- and with Eli, actually, Kathy just decided she wanted to name him after me last minute. She's got time. She's… Hey, Liv," he greets as the bedroom door eases open, his partner appearing in the doorway.

She looks dishevelled- more so than he's ever seen her in fifteen years, save for last week when it all happened out of nowhere.

Her hair is a tangled mess, eyes underlined with dark circles, and she's pale, pasty, looks ill, almost, as though she hasn't slept in days, and as much as Elliot hates to admit it, he can see exactly what Cassidy means when he says he thinks she's still in shock; her pupils practically radiate it.

She's moving gingerly, clearly still in pain, wrapped in a pale pink oversized cardigan that only seems to emphasise the dull, sleep-deprived tone of her skin, oversized white t shirt that somehow seems to accentuate the swell of her breasts, residual bulge below them, and for what must be the hundredth time now since it all unfolded, Elliot finds himself wondering how the hell none of them noticed it before (or noticed how advanced it was at least, because god knows he wondered if she might be pregnant and god knows he tried to push it, but it never even crossed his mind she might have been this far along).

She looks so vulnerable.

She looks so horribly vulnerable, so ill, so haunted, that same pain and tension and fight-or-flight that was there right after Lewis back in her features, and yet at the same time, Elliot doesn't think she's ever looked as content, as completely in love, as at peace, as she does in that moment, cradling what looks even from a short distance like nothing but a messily folded blanket strewn over her shoulder.

"Hi," Olivia smiles back, almost shy, self-conscious. "Sorry- I know you said you'd come over after work and I did try to get her sorted half an hour ago, only she's been…"

He brushes her apology aside. "Don't be sorry. I remember how it is, it's impossible to be organised in the first month, let alone the first week. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine. Well… you know." She fusses over the baby now, rearranges the blanket wrapped around her until her small form is just visible, almost as though she's trying to detract attention from herself. "Still feeling completely out of my depth…"

"Everyone feels like that," Elliot offers in gentle reassurance. "No one ever feels ready- even with time to prepare. That's normal. She clearly thinks you know what you're doing, though," he smiles, takes in the small arm draped across his partner's shoulder, the sleeping face pressed against her chest. "Look at that face. She totally knows she's won the mom lottery."

The baby in Olivia's arms is too small, too delicate, too squashed and bruised from the delivery to have grown into her own features just yet, but all the same, every one of those early signs just-about visible suggests that she's going be her mother's miniature.

Eyes gently closed, cheek pressed into her mother's collarbone, the baby snuffles as though in agreement, nose crinkles like Olivia's, expression inexplicably identical to Olivia's when he's watched her sleep in the cribs, after Lewis, in the hospital this last week.

Absentmindedly, Elliot finds himself wondering how something so pure, so precious, could have resulted from so much trauma.

"Yeah, but she doesn't know any better, does she?" Olivia brushes his compliment aside, shifts the blanket, presses her lips to the baby's head. "Do you, sweetheart? Hey? You've got no idea the total chaos you've been born into, have you?"

He laughs. "I really don't think she cares, Liv. She's fine. She's more than fine, look at her. She loves her momma."

"She wasn't this calm on the Neonatal Unit," Olivia agrees. "I…" She bites her lip, awkward, eyes suddenly plead with her boyfriend, weary, begging him to understand.

"We need groceries, don't we, Liv?" Cassidy covers, taking the hint. "You were saying the hospital suggested you try… you know. With…" he gestures awkwardly to the baby in her arms. "Why don't I go take care of that now, leave you to catch up with Elliot?"

There's visible relief in his partner's eyes when her boyfriend is out the door mere moments after her nod of approval, even despite the apparent revelation that he can't get out of the apartment fast enough.

"You okay?" Elliot asks carefully. "And don't tell me you're fine, I know you're not fine…"

"Oh, don't." Olivia closes her eyes, face etched with exhaustion and worry, and all of a sudden, he's reminded that her hormones must be raging just now, horribly aware that she looks like she might burst into tears out of nowhere.

"Alright," he takes control. "Alright, I'm going to make you some tea, okay? You go and sit down, I'll make you some tea." Gently, he places his hands on the small of her back, steers her towards the sofa. "Talk to me."

He watches her ease herself gingerly down onto the couch as he fills the kettle with water, as she trembles a little, visibly anxious, cuddles the baby protectively. "I feel like I'm fighting a losing battle over here," she confesses weakly. "I feel like I'm letting her down, like I'm doing it all wrong…"

"No." He slams the kettle down onto the base with rather more force than he'd intended, crosses the room to sit beside her at once. "No, you aren't, Liv. Don't ever tell yourself that. Alright? You're doing amazing. You didn't even know you were having her just over a week ago, give yourself some credit."

"I've wanted this forever though…"

"I know," Elliot agrees gently. "But even so. It's one thing to want a baby, it's quite another to become a mom like this. You're so natural with her already, Liv. You know exactly what you're doing, you're just lacking confidence, understandably…"

"I don'tknow what I'm doing, though. I really don't. She's down on just over fifteen percent of her birthweight…"

"That's normal…"

Olivia shakes her head, leans back into the couch cushions wearily as she lays the baby across her chest, tugs her small head under her chin, cups her, breathes in what Elliot is sure must be the newborn baby scent he remembers so well from his own babies, and despite the worry and the sleep deprivation and the trauma of it all, despite everything, she seems so wonderfully, blissfully happy.

"Up to ten percent's normal," she tells him, voice almost a little frantic, though her touch is gentle, calming, as she strokes her daughter's espresso-dark brown hair, already grown-in, just one of the many little signs that she went well beyond her due date. "Losing more of their birth weight than that isn't. She seems to be latching on okay- I don't know, I don't really have a clue what I'm doing. But she seems to latch on, she'll feed for close to an hour. But then she's still losing weight. The Intervention Program said she's supposed to be back up to her birth weight by the time she's ten days old, there's no way that's going to happen…"

"She'll be fine, Liv," Elliot soothes. "She'll get there. She's chunky, she can afford to take her time…"

"She was," Olivia corrects him. "God only knows how, I really don't know how she fit. But she's not now. She's down nearly two pounds now, that's terrifying…"

"It sounds worse than it is because she was such a high birthweight, though…"

"Are you calling my daughter fat?" she retorts, mock-offended. "Because the poor girl has enough issues to contend with over here as it is…"

He rolls his eyes. "She's perfect. She was overdue, she's supposed to be chunky…"

"She's going to be tiny if I can't get her to gain some weight back soon." Olivia strokes her baby's small hand delicately, holds it in her own, olive skin to olive skin. "The Intervention Programme health visitor said to try supplementing her with formula, and as much as I really don't want to give up at this stage, I honestly don't know if I can take much more of this, either. Every time she's weighed and she's managed to lose more weight, my heart just…" she shakes her head, eyes filling with tears. "Sorry, this is ridiculous…"

"No, it's not. She's only a week old, Liv," Elliot reminds her gently. "This is normal, alright? Lots of babies have trouble feeding in the first week or so. She'll be fine. It's just one of those things, you'll get it sorted. But you're feeling okay other than that?"

She nods. "Honestly? She's… well, she's everything." Suddenly, she's radiant, beams at him with utter contentment in her eyes, and it takes him a moment to realise that it's because the tiny hand held in hers has taken hold of her finger, clinging on tightly. "Sometimes I look at her and I can't believe she's mine, you know? I know I'm hopelessly biased, but she's perfect. I didn't even realise it was possible to love someone so... I know, sweet girl," she soothes, slips straight back into mom mode at the sudden, high-pitched cry her daughter lets out, rocks her gently, pats her back. "I know, it's okay. It's okay. This is what you keep doing, isn't it? Momma feeds you, and then we manage about ten minutes and then you get all upset, don't you? What am I going to do with you, sweetheart? Hey? What am I going to do with you? I love you," his partner murmurs to the baby, heartfelt. "I love you so, so much, my lovely girl. So, so much. It's okay. This is what she keeps doing," she sighs, carries on soothing the baby so naturally that no one would ever know that she wasn't even remotely prepared for her baptism of fire into motherhood at all. "Every time I feed her, pretty much. Brian threatened to stick her on the balcony last night if I couldn't shut her up. I mean, I get it, it's taking her so long to feed at the moment we don't get much time between her doing this and her waking up crying to be fed again…"

"I hope you told him hecan go sleep on the balcony, if that's how he feels…"

"Not quite as pointedly as that, but yes. We can't do that to you, can we, my angel?" she soothes. "We can't do that. We need to work out why you get all upset after every single feed, don't we, but you can cry as much as you want if you're in pain. I know, sweetheart, I know. I know. If I could stop it hurting, I would…"

"Has anyone shown you the colic hold?"

She shakes her head, still drawing gentle circles on the baby's back. "She's only started doing this in what, the last three days? Since we've been home. All the Intervention Program woman seems to be interested in is how much weight she's lost…"

"They're still as useless as they were twenty years ago, then. Turn her over?" he offers. "Turn her over, lie her on her belly along your arm?"

She clams up, unsure of herself, awkward. "You want her?"

"You don't want to hand her over, it's written all over your face," he points out simply.

Olivia blushes furiously. "Sorry…"

"Totally understandable," Elliot assures her. "I'll wait. If you think I'm leaving your apartment before I've had a cuddle with her you're about to find out you're very wrong, but I'll wait. Just flip her over… that's it. You've got it. And then you can rub her back with your other hand."

"I can't decide if she looks totally zenned out like this or like I'm torturing her…"

He laughs at that. "You know I've done this five times over, right? I've picked up a few tricks along the way. Kathleen was like this," he confesses. "The feeding, the crying afterwards, she was like this right from the word go. Turned out she was lactose intolerant. Kathy had to give up dairy for six months to keep breastfeeding, but other than that…"

"Oh my god, don't do this to me," his partner moans. "I'm still having nightmares about the soy milk and the fake cheese that tasted like laundry detergent when I was living with the eco activists back in Oregon. Switching back onto that stuff might be one shock to the system too many."

"You realise you just pushed out a nine-pound baby without even knowing what was happening, right?"

"Exactly, one shock to the system too many. What are we going to do with you, honey?" she sighs, rocks the baby soothingly. "Hey? You calming down for Momma? Yeah? Preferably before Brian gets back."

Elliot decides now is most definitely not the moment to ask if this means Brian isn't going to be 'dad.'

"She sounds like she's in pain, doesn't she?" Olivia sighs worriedly. "You might have a point, as much as I don't want to admit it…"

He shrugs. "She still under a neonatologist?"

"I think the poor child's going to be under a neonatologist until she ages out, thanks to her useless mother…"

"There's nothing useless about her mother," Elliot tells her firmly. "It happens, Liv. It happens, and it's totally understandable why, in your case. And she's fine. Look at her." He smiles at the baby as sleepily, she blinks, the same chocolate brown eyes he's looked into for so many years, crying slowly subsiding. "She's alright. She knows you're her mommy, she knows you keep her safe. No damage done. Mention it to her neonatologist, next time you take her," he suggests. "Might as well let them do something useful."

"True."

"You're doing amazing, Liv," he promises. "More than amazing. Whatever it is, you'll get it sorted. But she's calming down, she's okay…"

She nods. "Next time Brian complains she's keeping him up, I'll call you. Now I know you're the baby whisperer."

"Nah, she only wants her mommy. You thought of a name for her yet?" he asks, tries to keep his voice casual.

"You know I haven't, that was totally the first thing Brian told you when you made it through the door."

He surrenders. "Alright. Alright, he might have mentioned it. No pressure from me, by the way. It took us weeks to pick Maureen's name." He jumps up off the couch, crosses back into the kitchen area. "You've got time. She's registered under her undercover name, right?" he calls back, rummages through the cupboards for her revolting herbal tea, the one apparently welcome grocery item from her time in Oregon.

"Uh huh."

"So you've got plenty of time to pick a name for her. You're fine."

"Have I ever told you how my mother picked my name?" she asks suddenly, waits until he shakes his head, crossing back to join her on the couch. "You want to take her while I…"

"You know I'd love that."

"Okay. You want to go to your Uncle Elliot, sweetheart?" she coos, lifts the baby as though she's made of glass, transfers her into Elliot's arms. "I can't guarantee she's not going to start crying again…"

"Course you can't. She's a newborn, she's supposed to be unpredictable as hell. Hey, baby girl," he soothes, holds the baby- Olivia's baby- up in front of him so they're looking straight into each other's eyes, as she blinks at him curiously, eyes fighting to focus, expression every inch Olivia's confusion while waking slowly, disorientated, after falling asleep at her desk. "You look so like your Momma, don't you? Hey? She looks at me like that, too."

Olivia rolls her eyes, takes a sip of her tea.

"Sorry," he shakes himself. "Sorry, you were telling me how your mom…"

She nods. "How my mother picked my name? She was teaching a freshman tutor group that week. Twelfth Night."

It takes a moment for the penny to drop. "Oh, wow."

"Right? Literally plucked it out of a book, no thought, no nothing. I don't want to do that to her," Olivia admits quietly. "I don't want… I just don't want her to grow up like I did, you know? I want to break that cycle."

He softens. "You're not your mom, Olivia…"

"I know. Believe me, from what I know, how I feel about her right now and how my mother felt about me at this stage aren't even in the same stratosphere." She shudders, just a little, and fifteen years together have taught Elliot better than to push. "But it's not just that. I don't want people to look at her the way they must have looked at me," she confesses quietly. "Brian can hardly look at her. I think he's hoping I haven't noticed, but it's obvious. He hasn't even held her yet. Actually, that's a lie, he held her for as long as it took to put her down on the couch when I threw her at him on the way to the bathroom yesterday. But that's it."

"He's crazy," Elliot says firmly, lowers the baby, rocks her against his chest. "Who couldn't love you, honey? Hey? Who couldn't love you?"

"Exactly. He of all people should know better." Olivia stares down at the floor, shuffles. "And he won't stop banging on about her not having a name, like it's some kind of… I don't know. I've made some progress, she's got a middle name. I'm just not telling anyone that because I like it to shove in there before Benson, I don't want everyone actually calling her it. And they will. Everyone seems to think I'm damaging her beyond all repair, letting her go this long without a name..."

"If it's any consolation, Kathy and I called our five all sorts of ridiculous names, the first month or so. Their actual names, not so much."

"That does make me feel better, actually. We're getting there. Aren't we, sweet girl?" she murmurs, reaches across to hold her daughter's small hand in her own again. "We've got this, haven't we? You and me?"

The baby snuffles, clings onto her finger tight.

"I think she likes the sound of that," Elliot tells her simply.

His partner leans over, rests her head against his shoulder. "Thanks, El."

She's not just talking about this latest bout of reassurance, and both of them know it.

"Any time. So what's her middle name, then? If I promise I won't start using it?"

"Ruth." She doesn't even hesitate, apparently trusts him completely.

"Well, that wasn't predictable at all."

She elbows him lightly in the ribs, and he cringes, teasing her. "That hurt."

"It did not."

"It did! You know I've got your daughter?"

"Yeah, but she looks pretty content. She's totally staring you down."

"Like mother like daughter. She isn't, though, you know that, right?"

"Hmm?"

"She's looking right past me at her momma."

"No, she's not, she can't see that far. I probably just smell of leaking milk…"

"Too much information."

She elbows him again. "I just…" she begins, trails off, shakes her head. "Doesn't matter."

"Go on?"

Olivia runs her thumb gently over the tiny fist laced around her ring finger. "I just… I don't know. I feel like an absolute mess…"

"You don't look a mess."

"I guess that's something."

"You've just had a baby, Liv. Labour isn't exactly a walk in the park at the best of times, you know that, right? Let alone after everything you've been through. You've grown a tiny human, you're allowed to feel a bit all over the place. But you don't look a mess. Okay? Far from it. Has Brian…"

"I don't want to talk about Brian," Olivia shuts him down firmly- too firmly for Elliot's liking, all things considered. "I don't know. I think I'll feel better once I can start trying to lose the baby weight…"

He can't resist. "That the baby weight from the baby you didn't even know you were pregnant with a week ago?"

"Hilarious." She pouts. "You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"

"Nope."