A/N: Thank you all for the wonderful feedback on Part 1. I hope I do the concept justice with Part 2! Thank you to all the NYC residents who talked me through the logistics, I owe you all much maple syrup in return.

"When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives." – George R.R. Martin

PART 2

There are three major differences he sees in Olivia.

The physical changes don't phase him. He's changed as well, he sees it in the mirror every day. His beard grows in grey, he's lost weight but gained muscle, the edges of his face are a little sharper. Most of it he chalks up to living in Europe for the better part of ten years, and the rest have just come with the job, he surmises.

But the changes in Olivia surprise him.

As he glances over at her, she holds his gaze.

The Olivia he knows would have eventually dropped the eye contact. She'd make up an excuse in her head to assess her hands, peer out the window - anything to distract from whatever she felt while she looked at him.

Now, she doesn't falter. There's no fear in her eyes. She's cautious, it's true - though whatever she's holding a belief in right now has her on solid ground.

He realizes then that it's her belief in them, together, that solidifies her.

The second thing he notices is that she's less patient. He knows her compassion is endless, and her ability to garner trust from victims is nearly ethereal. Yet when it comes to her subordinates, people she runs into on the street - she doesn't play and entertain them as she once did. She carries herself with power and dominance that only comes with time on the job and a Captain's shield.

And lastly, she doesn't speak about things she doesn't want to.

He doesn't push her on it either.

"You sure you wanna do this?"

It's her last chance, he thinks. This is it. They cross the street and their lives are going to change forever. He won't have any regrets, but he still gives her the out if she wants to take it.

"Give me your phone," she huffs, stopping in her tracks and holding out her hand. It's only a moment before the device is in her hands, and the screen is brought to life. "See this?"

She points to his phone on airplane mode. He doesn't remember setting it to that and he's immediately suspicious.

"I bugged our phones so they're on a schedule to ping off of different cell phone towers. Right now, you and I are in a movie theatre in the Upper East Side. After that, we're going to a little cafe a block away."

Elliot smiles at her, and the feeling is almost foreign after the hell they've been through in the past month. He tucks his hands in his pockets and closes the space on the sidewalk between them.

"So what are we doing after?"

Every boundary, every barrier that had previously stood between them is long gone. On days like today he can breathe, and when he pulls the air into his lungs, he wants it to be hers. He doesn't hide from what he wants. Neither does she.

They let it happen organically. There's no need to rush right now.

"Whatever you want," she drawls, her voice dropping low and suggestive as hell.

His eyes drop to her mouth just as hers do, and he thinks it's only fair that they have this last time together before more complications set in.

Nothing has ever been easy between them.

Everything has to be earned.

It's almost too simple.

They've plotted every moment of today, and everything is going to plan. They purposely kept their communications professional over the past week - only speaking on office phones, going about their business as usual, and keeping up appearances.

It took her a few days to get the ball rolling on her end. She slipped him a note in the internal NYPD mail, and to another cop or anyone who came across it, they wouldn't think anything of it.

Court date is set. Make sure your suit is ready.

They worked the system perfectly in their favor. He handles the bigger picture stuff, and she is in charge of the logistics and fine details.

She meets him in the tech lab on Monday after they send the team out for coffee and informs him that everything on her side is taken care of. He tells her the plan and the calmness between both of them isn't missed by her.

By Thursday she's walking together with him, out in the streets seeking justice as if no time had passed between them.

It's easy enough to find the perp. Despite being an up-and-coming gang member, his schedule is mostly the same, and they catch him in his parking garage a little after 10 pm. Based on the intel she received, he left at this time nearly every night to go see his mistress. The underground area is empty except for the three of them, and it's another stroke of luck working in their favor.

She's crouched down a few vehicles away, hidden in plain sight. Elliot waits until their target unlocks his vehicle, and he's so quick with his blitz attack she nearly misses it while double-checking that they're still alone. It's a fast and hard hit to the crux of his jaw and the man is putty in his arms.

Their synchronization is seamless when he tosses her the keys and she hits the unlock button again, and together they stuff the man into the trunk. Elliot pulls zip ties from his pocket and binds the man's hands and feet and places a hood over his head.

They're in the vehicle and taking off down the Taconic State Parkway within fifteen minutes.

Last night she lied awake wondering what today would hold and going through the steps of their plan over and over again. She blocks out thoughts of Noah, of the job or her career in general. This is beyond anything within the scope of the NYPD or anything she could explain to her child.

It's family. It's revenge. It's evening a playing field that was tilted all along.

He hates that deep down he's missed this feeling.

It's a few weeks out from spring and the trees that line the Taconic Parkway are barren. The temperature has risen over the last several days, the snow has melted, the earth is soft. Despite the lack of color at this time of year, it's still beautiful, and to Elliot, it's unmistakably New York.

Europe had plenty to offer him and his family. Though nothing felt like home except here.

It's not the road or the views though, and deep down he knows this. It's having Olivia beside him that's home.

There were days that he was convinced would be his last and those days were the ones she haunted him. She was with him wherever he went, telling him to be careful, be kinder, correcting his Italian. But on days that were rough – days when his vision had faded and the sound of gunfire was so close that his ears rung – she was right behind him, protecting him, shielding him.

It was only when he would turn around that he would realize she was never really there.

Olivia had thought out everything so well on her end that he nearly asks her about it but decides against it. They're accomplices but she's building her walls to protect from his flood, and he understands. He bides himself with the small moments she allows him to have before she feels her heart tug and she snaps back into her façade.

It's all too easy for him to see even from the corner of his eye.

"Surprised you let me drive," he rumbles deeply.

Surprised you trust me enough to let me drive.

"Yeah, well…" she muses, and he sees the slightest upturn of her mouth. "You need the practice being in command, not me."

Elliot tries to cough to cover up his laughter and bites down on his lower lip to keep his smirk at bay. He's not pushing his luck – he knows the statement was a joke veiled as an insult, but there is truth to her words. It doesn't faze him.

His fingers curl around the steering wheel, flexing and relaxing. They're out of the city now, and every preventative measure they have taken has paid off. When they went approached the tolls, Olivia was handy with gloves and hats, as well as black placards to cover their faces, and a bright light she shone in the camera's direction to reflect the light and create an orb around the car in the picture.

Just as he takes an exit off the state highway, they both hear a thumping noise coming from the trunk of the vehicle.

Olivia looks at him for a moment, though she isn't startled. She instead turns the radio up and sits back in her seat and for the first time since they got in the car, she looks content.

This is my partner in crime, Captain Benson.

A/N: Let me know if you want Part 3!