A/N:

I guess this fic wasn't finished after all :)

Thank you all SO much for your reviews of the last chapter!
I'm not entirely sure where this chapter came from since I'm not really a soft/domestic EO type.
The last chapter was very heavy, and the next will be as well, so here's a little bit of a breather in between.

Also a huge thank you to Kerri for thinking this through with me! 3

Reviews are my favorite :)

Part 2: Who We're Meant to Be

Olivia makes her way out of the 16th precinct lost in thought. It's been days since that night in Elliot's apartment, and her mind keeps being pulled back to him. The conversation, yes, but also the feel of him wrapped around her, the way he had kissed her, sensations that she had never felt before, but wanted nothing more than to feel again.

As if she had thought him into existence, he's in front of her eyes, leaning back against her car, hands buried in his pockets. She saw him every single day for 12 years, but lately, every time feels like the first time. The second their eyes meet, there is nothing at all wrong in the entire world. She stops in her tracks, taking him in, and her mind flashes to the power of his arms, the heat of his breath, and warmth runs through her. She calls out to him, "Y'know, normally I'd take down a strange man lurking by car."

Elliot smiles and walks toward her, "And I don't doubt that you could." He wants so badly to lean down, to kiss her quickly, the way you greet someone you love, but he settles instead for taking a heavy looking bag from her shoulder.

She sighs a bit at the loss of the weight, "Thanks," she smiles, "What are you doing here? Everything ok?" They continue toward her car, side by side.

"Well, I thought since you like driving me around so much, you could give me a ride home."

She raises her eyebrows and smirks at him, "Interesting that to get from your office to here, you'd have had to go right by your building." Olivia unlocks the car, but Elliot presses his back to the driver's side door. She stands only inches from him, unmoving, unafraid.

"Guess I must've taken a wrong turn," he says playfully. He can't take it anymore. He leans in. When she doesn't turn her head, doesn't back away, he kisses her softly, briefly.

She looks up at him from under dark lashes and shakes her head, "Get in."

"So is this how we're going to communicate from now on? Trapping each other in cars?" Olivia asks once they're on the road.

Elliot shrugs, "Seems to be working out so far," he says with a smirk, and Olivia tilts her head at him. "It's been days," he says, giving up the banter, "You haven't talked to me, Liv."

"It's not like I'm ignoring you, Elliot. We just talked this afternoon," she says, but she knows what's coming next.

"Texting me two or three word responses a few times a day isn't exactly communication. Unless you're Eli."

Olivia chuckles, "I know," she gives in, "You're right. I'm sorry."

He looks at her, hair brushed to the side, studies the bare skin at the back of her neck. "I just want to know you're ok. That we're ok."

She glances over at him, 'We are, I promise. It's just been a lot to process."

He nods, "For me too."

"It feels like in the last week, so much has happened, and I can't quite get my head around it."

"Yeah," he agrees again, "I know."

She sighs, "I wanted to give you space to digest it. In case you," she looks at him, "decide it's too much."

He nods slowly. No one has ever said they were all in and actually followed through. Even he had gone back on his word. "Well, if I remember correctly, " he takes her hand from where it rests on the stick shift, "You and I always seem to process things better when we're together."

Olivia nods, smiles, gives him one more out, "You're sure?"

He responds without a second of hesitation, "I'm sure."

Elliot had been so focused on their conversation, he hadn't bothered to pay much attention to where they were going. Not that he cared. He'd go anywhere with this woman.

They aren't at his building, they're at hers. She can feel the question on his lips, as she pulls into the lot beneath her building, parks, and turns to him. "This was my choice," she says, "I could have walked away, but I didn't. I bared my soul to you and you're still here. So as much as my brain is afraid that you could disappear again, my heart is stubborn. It knows you won't."

Elliot is caught off guard by her words. He narrows his eyes and studies her, "What changed?"

"I lived without you for ten years. I built a life that's mine. One that I'm proud of. And I want you in it. But if you leave again, I know this time I'll be ok," she looks him dead in the eye, "But you may not be."

He laughs a little at her words. She doesn't need him. She's never needed him. "I won't," he squeezes her hand, "Promise." Olivia nods, then turns and opens the door to get out. He watches her, confused. "What are we doing?"

She smiles, "It's spaghetti night," she hops out of the car, "You coming?"

Elliot's breathing is unsteady as he follows Olivia to her apartment. Something has shifted. She is unguarded, certain, and now he is closer with each step to meeting her son. This can only mean one thing- when he tells her he's not leaving, she believes him.

When they stop at her door, his heart is racing. Of all the horrible things he's battled, he can't say he's ever been afraid of an 8 year old. Until now.

Olivia unlocks the door and is about to turn the knob, when Elliot stops her with a heavy hand on her shoulder. She turns her head, and her eyes flick from his hand to his face.

"Are you sure?" he asks her softly, kindly

She smiles, "It's just spaghetti, Elliot," she deflects, but he holds her eyes. She faces him, and there isn't even a flicker of doubt in her voice, "We've spent twenty years being unsure. I don't want to do that anymore." She tilts her head up and kisses him, and suddenly every fear, every doubt is erased. His heart slows, his mind quiets. There's a peace that only she can bring him. "If there's a chance that we could be happy, I'm willing to take it," she says, "Are you?"

He studies her, an easy smile across his lips. She makes him feel invincible, fearless. "With you?" He tucks a bit of hair behind her ear, "Yeah."

Olivia opens the door. A young woman is in the kitchen, filling a pot with water. Olivia introduces her as Lucy, and the women exchange a bit of conversation, while Elliot's eyes scan the apartment. He is immediately met with an overwhelming sense of home. Her last apartment had been barely lived in. A photo or two, an empty fridge, sparse and necessary. He steps out of the entryway and takes in the warmth, the drawings on the fridge, the toys on the coffee table, the plants in the windows. This place is bursting with life, with love, and suddenly, he never wants to leave. He thinks of his own temporary apartment, he thinks of Eli. The full and happy home they left for bare walls and silent rooms.

"Wait here?" Olivia asks once Lucy has left, "I want to talk to Noah."

"Course," he says and watches her disappear into her son's room.

Noah is sitting on his bed, iPad in his lap. His head pops up when he hears her come in. "Hi mom!" he says with a smile. Olivia crosses to him and kisses the top of his head before sitting next to him.

"How was school?"

Noah shrugs, "It was ok. Sam threw up in the trash can."

Olivia nods, "Wonderful," she lifts the Ipad from his lap, "So, honey, if it's ok with you, I brought a friend over to have dinner with us"

"Do I know them?" Noah asks, though doesn't seem particularly interested.

"Uh, no you don't," she pauses, "Remember last week, the friend I knew a long time ago?"

Noah squints his eyes a bit, "The one who made you sad?" he asks

Olivia smiles, tilts her head a bit, "Well, I took your advice. I decided to give him a second chance." Noah smiles with pride. "I would really like for you to meet him, but only if you want to."

He shrugs, "Ok," he says simply, "Do we still get to have spaghetti?"

Olivia laughs a bit, nods her head. She should've known that spaghetti night would be at the forefront of his mind no matter what else was going on. "Come on," she says, and he slides off the bed and follows her out the door.

Elliot is leaning against the peninsula, checking his email on his phone when he hears them emerge from the bedroom. This little boy he's only seen from a distance exudes light and confidence. His eyes are bright and sparkling, his hair a mess of curls after a long day.

"Noah," Olivia says, "This is my friend Elliot."

Elliot extends his fist, and Noah smiles up at him. He reminds him so much of Eli at that age, "Nice to meet you, Noah."

"Hi," the boy says, bumping his small fist against his, "Are you a captain like my mom?"

Olivia meets Elliot's eyes and raises her eyebrows, a satisfied smirk on her face.

"Actually, I'm only a detective," Elliot says, and bends to meet Noah at eye level, "Because your mom," he whispers loudly and raises his hand to shield his mouth, "Is a whole lot better at her job than I am. But don't tell her I said so." He lifts a finger to his lips.

Noah giggles and looks up at Olivia, "Mom can I use my ipad until dinner is ready?"

"Ten minutes, then wash your hands and come back," the boy is already running back to his room, "I mean it Noah!" she calls after him, but he's already gone.

Olivia heads to the kitchen and Elliot follows her. She takes a box of pasta from the cabinet, and then goes to the fridge to retrieve a container of sauce, "Wow, not from a jar? I'm impressed," he jokes and slides into one of the stools at the bar.

Olivia scoffs, "Well, don't be too impressed. Carisi's mother keeps us well stocked. When she found out I was using the jarred stuff, there was suddenly a steady supply."

Elliot nods and chuckles. This woman who has always wanted to have a family, has managed to create one in the most perfect way. It made him happy to know she had built this village of people for herself and Noah, and, at the same time, it broke his heart that he had chosen not to be a part of it for so long. He's vaguely aware of her asking him something, but he's lost in his thoughts, thinking of the days after her trauma, the times she was promoted, the happiest days and the hardest days, all of the things he could never get back.

"El?" Her voice breaks him out of his trance. She's right there in front of him, watching him, saying his name. He can't go back, but he can make the most of every single second she'll give him from now on.

He clears his throat, "Sorry, what?"

"Do you want a glass of wine?" she asks, the bottle open in her hand.

"Yeah, thanks."

She pours a glass and places it in front of him. "Something on your mind?"

Elliot takes a sip before speaking, "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything," Olivia says, then turns to the boiling water on the stove, adding the uncooked pasta to the pot.

"You mentioned that you were," he pauses searching for the right words, "Involved with someone during…" he trails off, but unsurprisingly, she understands.

Olivia nods and sips her wine, "I was." She doesn't offer any more details. If he asks the question, she'll answer, but she's choosing not to name names of her own accord.

"Is he Noah's father?" The question is almost shy, and her heart fills. She leans forward on her forearms resting on the counter between them.

"Actually, Noah's adopted," she says with a smile. She studies his eyes as he takes in the information, watches as understanding settles over him. "We found him as an infant on the job," she continues, "I watched for months as he bounced around foster homes. Something about him….I couldn't stop following his case. I think my heart knew he was always supposed to be mine."

Elliot's smile is broad, his eyes sparkling as he listens to her, "It was meant to be."

She nods, "Mmm," she hums in agreement, "He was worth waiting for."

He reaches out and takes one of her hands, "So it's just been the two of you?"

She studies his fingers, then moves her hand, tracing lazy lines upland down his forearm, "Not always. For the most part, the squad became our family, but you know how that goes," she slides her hand back into his, "People come and go." There's a sadness in her voice as the ghosts of those who have left, who have died, who have disappeared, pass behind her eyes.

"I hate that I missed watching you become a mom, Liv," he says softly.

She inhales deeply, "Me, too," she says with a squeeze of his hand.

"But," he leans forward, "I'm really grateful to be here now."

"Me, too," she says quietly and kisses him, softly at first, but then more fully, parting her lips leaning as far into him as she can manage.

Elliot feels the shift in her, senses the spark of a fire igniting. He told himself he would let her take the lead, wait for her to dictate where they were going. And ever since they got into her car tonight, she's been surprising him at every turn. He feels her tongue run along his bottom lip and he opens his mouth, then reaches up and buries a hand in her hair.

The sharp sound of the kitchen timer startles them both out of the moment. They part, but do not move, do not speak. They gaze at each other for several seconds, a want, a need, reflecting between them. Olivia reaches for her glass, sips her wine slowly, licks her lips, and Elliot feels like he may black out if he doesn't start breathing again. She straightens, then calls over her shoulder, "Noah, wash your hands, dinner's ready."

Elliot hasn't had a dinner like this since Eli was young. All silly stories and giggles and sauce-stained faces. The joy in this apartment tonight brings back a piece of himself he hasn't experienced in so long, he'd all but forgotten about it. As Noah and Elliot were in an intense conversation about Noah's science fair project, Olivia slips her hand onto Elliot's thigh, then takes his hand. Watching her son's face light up when Elliot asks interested questions, she experiences a moment of disbelief. Were they really here? Hadn't she pictured nights like this a hundred times? A sinking fear that this is all too good to be true, that it was never meant to last, snakes itself around her heart and threatens to strangle her. Her face falls a bit and she can feel her breath catch slightly. Sensing the tension overtaking her body, Elliot keeps his eyes on Noah, but squeezes her hand. Her eyes flick to his face, and he smiles. When Noah gets up to bring his plate to the sink, Elliot leans over and whispers, "It's ok. It's just spaghetti, Liv."

She shakes her head and smiles at him. He knows her still, what she's thinking, what she's feeling, and it brings her peace. She squeezes his hand once more before letting go.

"Alright Noah, I need you to hop in the shower, and then we can watch some TV before bed, ok?" she says.

"Can I show Elliot my project first?" Noah asks excitedly.

Olivia meets Elliot's eyes, a hint of surprise on her face, at a loss for words.

Elliot stands, "I'd love to see it," he says, and the boy beams, "Maybe you can teach me something."

He holds Olivia's eyes as he follows Noah into his room, a smile across his lips. As she watches them go, the feeling of gratitude, of absolute correctness is so overpowering, she nearly cries. And for the first time in years, she is too happy to be afraid.

As Noah walks Elliot through his research, he cannot help but marvel at this child, who in the first year of his life experienced so much that no one knows about. He is so smart, so full of light and energy, and he feels his heart growing already to make space for this boy who has every single good quality of his mother, blood be damned.

As Elliot bends to look at one of the models more closely, Noah's voice comes small and unsure beside him. "Elliot?"

He turns and sees that Noah is looking at him a bit warily, "How come you hurt my mom?"

Elliot's heart skips, and he is overcome with sadness, "Can we sit down, buddy?"

Noah nods, then sits on the edge of his bed, while Elliot pulls over the chair from his desk and positions himself directly in front of him. "Man to man?" he says and Noah nods, "Leaving your mom… it was the worst thing I think I've ever done. I thought I was doing the right thing, but sometimes the right thing can be the wrong thing." Noah squints at him. Shit, was Elliot out of practice talking to children. He exhales and tries again, "Your mom was my very best friend in the world. I left without saying goodbye because...well, I didn't think I had a choice. But I did, and I think I made the wrong one."

"Are you going to do it again?" Noah asks quietly, and Elliot thinks he can hear his own heart start to crack.

"Your mom is the kindest, bravest, most wonderful person I've ever met in my entire life, and I made a really big mistake. But I'm the luckiest, because she's giving me another chance. And I promise you, I'm not going to waste it."

"She's the best mom, you know," Noah says, "She's really smart and she's funny."

"You're right," Elliot says with a smile.

"But," Noah starts, then shields his mouth and whispers loudly, "She's not a very good dancer."

Elliot laughs loudly, fully, caught completely off guard. He whispers back, "I know, but let's not tell her."

"She smiles a lot when you're here," Noah says with a genuine innocence Elliot's children lost years ago, "I like that."

"Me too, buddy," Elliot extends his fist again and Noah bumps it, "See you soon, ok?"

Elliot watches Olivia as she wipes down the counter top and puts the last of dinner into the refrigerator. It's still astounding how wrong he'd been to think he knew all of her. To assume she hadn't changed. Seeing her with Noah, he fell more deeply, more completely in love with her, something he wasn't sure was even possible.

He comes up next to her and they lean against the counter, side by side, "That is an amazing kid you've got there."

She lights up, glows from the inside out with pride, "He really is," she pivots and presses herself to him kissing him with so much restraint it's almost painful, "So," she whispers, "what were you two talking about?" She turns away from him and picks up her wine glass.

Unable to resist her, yet acutely aware of the little boy in the next room, he takes a step forward and stands behind her. He slowly snakes his hands low across her hips and presses his lips to the bare skin of her neck. "Just how incredible you are," he whispers against her skin.

Whatever switch has flipped inside her, she can't resist the feel of him. The proximity of his body, the feel of his mouth, the vibrations of his voice against her neck, have her aching for more. "Yeah?" she asks, her voice a heavy whisper, "What else?" She tilts her head back against him and his lips trace the inside of her neck, her shoulder.

Elliot chuckles a bit against her, and it sends fire up her spine. He wraps his arms across her torso and rests his chin on her shoulder, "Now, that," he presses a kiss into her neck, "I don't think I can tell you," he says playfully, "Guy stuff."

Olivia turns in his embrace, raises an eyebrow, "That right?" she slides her hands slowly up over his chest and she feels him shudder, "I bet I can get it out of you." Olivia doesn't completely understand what has come over her since that night in his apartment. Letting her guard down seems to have demolished the dam that's been keeping her emotions locked away for years, and now that they were flowing freely, she couldn't seem to control the tide.

Elliot takes both of her hands from his shirt and kisses her softly. Too softly, and she's disappointed. "If we don't stop now…" he trails off, his voice low and hungry. Never did he think that he would need to be the one to slow her down, and fuck, was it difficult.

She nods, regaining control of herself, "I know," she groans and steps back from him. She hangs on to one of his hands and walks him to the door. "You have any off nights coming up?"

"Couple," he says, "Have something in mind?" He smirks and gets dangerously close to her.

Her voice drops, low and sultry, "I'm thinking," she runs a finger slowly down his torso, "That I'd like to kiss you," she does, "Without any interruptions."

A quiet growl forms low in his throat, "You tell me when and I'll clear my schedule," he touches his lips to hers and whispers into her mouth, "Captain."