He waited until he heard from the guys before he did anything. John got her a cat, which was unexpected in a lot of ways, but she hadn't told him to take it back so it sounded like she was happy to have it around. Fin spent an evening with her at her apartment with a bottle of whiskey and said that Olivia was about as good as could be expected. Both of them reported that she was a little quieter than she used to be, a little less ready with a smile. And on the job, he'd seen that she had a fire inside her that was raging uncontrollably. But she'd get under control. She'd be okay. He had no doubt about that.

But he still worried. He still loved her like the daughter he never had. He wanted to be sure, for himself and not just on the word of John and Fin, that she was alright.

After an ordinary day—nothing too dramatic, no emergencies or horrors—Don called Olivia into his office.

"Yeah, Cap?"

"You got dinner plans tonight?"

She gave a small laugh. "Just me and my cat and some Chinese delivery, probably."

"I'm gonna cook you dinner."

Her eyes went wide. "You cook?"

"I'm not as useless as I seem," he answered wryly.

"I wouldn't think you're useless, but you really don't have to cook for me."

"I know I don't have to, but you have been known to have an empty fridge and too much MSG will kill you." He gave a small sigh and added quietly, "Let me do this for you, Liv."

She looked at him with those warm, dark eyes of hers and softened. "Come by at seven," she said.

He gave her a nod of agreement. She left, and Don started making his grocery list.

At seven on the dot, he pressed the buzzer at her building. The elevator was out, which annoyed him. Carrying groceries up all those damn stairs at his age was probably good for him but he wasn't happy about it.

Liv opened the door with a smile. "What's for dinner?" she asked.

"Spaghetti and meatballs. You better have pots and pans or else this is going to be a nightmare," he grumbled, coming inside her apartment to put the bags down.

She rolled her eyes. "You know, I did have Calvin and managed to keep him happy and fed. I'm not as bad as I used to be."

Don almost said that Elliot told a different story, but he held his tongue. He wasn't going to mention Elliot. He was the elephant in the room, but that didn't mean they needed to talk about him. Liv knew she could always come to him with anything if she wanted to. And Don knew it wasn't his place to push. Alex Cabot or Casey Novak could do that. Hell, even Melinda Warner would be better about talking to Olivia about this stuff. Don Cragen wasn't the one. Though, of course, he'd lost his wife all those years ago. It wasn't as different as people might think from what happened to Olivia when Elliot left without a word. It was still grief. It was still losing the most important person in your life without getting to say goodbye and knowing you'd never see them again. It was rage and heartbreak and loss and not knowing how to get out of bed every day but knowing you had a job to do and hoping it would keep you going until you figured yourself out. Don knew that all too well. But they weren't going to talk about. Not unless Olivia wanted it. And Don had a feeling she really didn't want to.

He told her to open some wine for herself, not wanting her to feel self-conscious around him. She wanted to help cook, so he set her to chopping garlic and onions to add to the meat and breadcrumbs and herbs. Olivia boiled the water for the pasta while Don shaped and cooked the meatballs and added the store-bought sauce. "Cooking down tomatoes is a waste of time," he told her. She laughed and thanked him; she was hungry.

Just before they sat down, Olivia fed her cat. "Here, Marmalade!" she called, tapping the metal food bowl with a fork.

A small orange ball of fluff came running out from the bedroom and immediately stuffed his whole face into the bowl when she put it down. Don couldn't help but laugh. "Weird little cat you've got there."

"Well, he was a gift from Munch, so I don't think we could expect him to find an ordinary animal."

"No, that's true," Don agreed. "But dinner's ready now, if you wanna have a seat."

"Just gotta wash my hands. Please sit. I'll be there in a second."

Don served up a plate of spaghetti and meatballs for himself and one for Oliva and put them at the places she'd set at the table. She washed her hands in the kitchen sink and sat down a moment later.

"Thank you so much, Captain," she said, raising her wine glass to him.

"Here's to you, Olivia," he answered raising his own glass of water.

They started eating and Olivia complimented how delicious the meal was. Don hadn't made this in a long time, so he was glad it turned out well. They ate with gentle small talk for a little while until a natural silence came. Liv filled it by saying, "I know what you guys are doing. You and Munch and Fin. But you know, you don't need to check up on me."

"We know we don't need to, but we want to. You'd do the same if any of us was in a bad way. And I know you're fine," he said quickly, cutting off any interruption from her. "But we all just want you to know how much we care about you."

"I'm very lucky to have such good friends," she said softly.

"We're all lucky to have you," he told her in return.

They both smiled.