Disclaimer: I looked in the mirror this morning and was insanely shocked to find out I'm not Dick Wolfe. Go figure.

Rating is for angst, smutty smut, more angst, and the occasional (or not so occasional) naughty word that cops actually use and that I am so fond of writing.

Reviews: Please. Have I mentioned I love them?

A/N: All warnings from the first chapter stay in this one, but for emphasis, I will repeat this is not a fluffy story (well, except for Munch at times). Unfortunately, my current mood has made my playtime with E/O emotionally pained. Deepest apologies.


Chapter Two

"Love is for unlucky folk,
Love is but a curse.
Once there was a heart I broke;
And that, I think, is worse."
- Dorothy Parker

Two weeks passed before she knew, three weeks and a doctor's visit confirmed her assumption. It was odd that her first reaction hadn't been panic; as a single, sexually active woman, it had always been a fear, an unwanted possibility in the back of her mind. Of course, she had her fair share of scares before, but they had all been unfounded, undoubtedly assisted by her religious use of condoms. But neither of them had given thought to anything in that moment other then the act itself. So this time, this time was real.

Driving back to her apartment from the doctor's, her mind shifted between bouts of intense thought to heavenly emptiness. Part of her, the Detective Benson persona, chose to step back from the situation and access it with assertive practicality. While having a child was never in her life-plans, she couldn't fathom an abortion, even though it was a choice she wouldn't deny others, especially considering her years with SVU. Her body was healthy, but she was nearly forty, and this would possibly be the only chance she would have at motherhood.

She was single, but earned a decent income, enough for her and a child. And she did have a sizable savings, a lesson learned early on. Though she didn't consider herself exceptionally maternal, Olivia reckoned it was something she could learn. At least there was little doubt in her mind that she could do a better job than her own mother, who in all honesty, and alcoholism aside, Olivia still loved very much.

The thought that Serena hadn't lived long enough to see her grandchild sent a shudder through Olivia. That thought wasn't practical, and the emotional woman suddenly overtook the professional detective.

There was a baby growing inside her, a life created in blissful despair on a desk in the SVU squad room at the 16th precinct. A child whose father confessed his love for her, only to break her heart by telling her he never wanted to see her again.

"You'll haunt me the rest of my life, Liv, The pain of seeing you again…I can't deal with it. There's nothing left of me to break."

The memory of his words stung her, and she realized absently that she was crying again. Perhaps it was the hormones, but she was too strong to deceive herself. She was hurting, more so than she had in all of her years. At times, her whole body ached, the pain of realizing heaven, only to have it ripped away, broken forever was almost too much to take.

Of course, there was the thought of what Elliot would do when he found out. She had no doubt that he would be back in her life. For if nothing else, she knew her former partner's morals, his inherent responsibility with respect to his children, fueled further by his faith. This child would be no different. If he found out, they would be forced together again, in another intimate partnership where he would have to see her, have to relive that pain he so shockingly revealed to her that night.

If he found out.

The thought had her biting her lower lip as she carefully parallel parked the car. Olivia turned the engine off, sitting for a moment in silence. It would be wonderful to have Elliot in her life again; there could be a chance that they could talk about what had happened, when exactly he fell in love with her and how she could fix that which she had unintentionally broken. But the memory of such raw pain in his blue eyes, the tears on his face…

"There's nothing left of me to break."

She closed her eyes, her breath coming out in a shuttered sigh. She couldn't do this. She owed him that much. It would be easier to give in, to plead with him, to reveal the depth of her love. But he had made it clear; he believed she had given up on him, that he wasn't what she needed. If for that one decision, her one damn choice that had put the job above him, he might believe her words. But that one decision seemed to prove to him that he wasn't what she needed, and her appearance alone caused him pain.

She had broken him. She wouldn't do it again.

Olivia shifted out of the car, locking it before she turned to walk on the sidewalk towards her building. She had just made it through the front door of her apartment before her cell started ringing.

She pulled it from her pants pocket, flipping it open as she closed the door behind her. "Benson."

"Olivia, where were you?"

She chuckled at the tone in the familiar voice. "Munch. I'm sorry I didn't call, but I'm sure you and Fin both appreciated winning a game this time."

She heard Munch snort. "It's not the pool that counts, Liv, it's the company. Fin can be an ass when it's just the two of us. And who else knows about Dostoevskii? Last time I mentioned the Brothers Karamazov to him, he nearly killed me with the eight ball."

Olivia laughed at the visual. "Stop exaggerating, John. And not that many people appreciate 19th century Russian literature quite like you."

"You do."

"You know the only reason I'm familiar with Dostoevskii and Pushkin is because I dated that Russian scholar for a couple of months back in '03. Otherwise I'd probably have Fin's back at your pool playing massacre." Olivia smiled, hearing his short half laugh, half grunt through the receiver.

"So how about next Wednesday? Or are you standing us up again?"

Olivia's smile faded. She slowed her languid pacing by the edge of the couch, her free hand brushing absently against the beige fabric.

"Olivia?"

"I, uh, I'm actually going to be out of town for awhile. I have some vacation time accrued and we're at a slow period, so cap says to take it." The lie came out smoothly.

"Damn, must be nice. Decided where you're going yet?"

She rubbed the back of her neck, thinking quickly how much she should tell him at the same time planning exactly what she was doing. "Not yet. But I'll send you a post card."

He snorted again. "If I get something from the Bahamas, I'm never speaking to you again."

The comment usually would have made her laugh, but with the sudden, volatile change in her life, it stung. She sighed.

"Liv?"

"Not the Bahamas, John."

"It's not that. Are you all right?"

Though never as close as Elliot had been, Munch could nearly be scary with how perceptive he was with her emotions at times.

"Fine. Just a long day. Why?"

"It's Stabler. I was wondering if maybe you and he had some sort of confrontation recently."

Her grip tightened on the phone. "What's wrong with Elliot?"

Munch grunted. "He's been hell to work with lately. Sharp, cold, storming in and out of the squad like someone just ran over his dog and he's going to execute the poor son of a bitch when he finds him. Hell, he almost beat up a perp in the room the other day; if Novak and I weren't there, I'm sure he would have pummeled the guy. Stabler even yelled at Cragen yesterday."

Olivia was staring out the living room windows, unseeing, her mind racing with this information. "He isn't being…careless, is he, John?"

There was a pause, and then it was Munch's turn to sigh. "I haven't seen him do anything stupid, but we haven't worked any cases together recently. I'd ask his partner, but I think she's a week away from transferring out of the department. Besides the vileness of our caseload, the fact that her partner has been acting like a bigger prick than Kim Jong-il probably has helped us lose another good detective."

Olivia was quiet. Elliot was usually the cool one, the detective that kept his head even when most would break under the pressures of the SVU casework. And though it didn't sound like he was jumping in front of bullets or taking unnecessary risks, he was taking his anger at her out on the job. The fact that he was still doing this after three weeks concerned her, but she knew it eventually would die down. It had to.

"John, I know he must be difficult to be around right now, but would you," she paused, moistening her lower lip, "would you mind looking after him? Not baby sit him, but just make sure he's not hurting himself?"

"Anything for you, Liv," he answered her with a chuckle. It was quiet for a moment, and his voice was lower when he spoke again. "Maybe you should talk to him."

Olivia laughed, a small, humorless sound. Even though Munch had no idea of what had happened three weeks ago, he was still quite aware of Elliot's animosity towards her since she had left SVU. "The current mood you describe him in, he'd likely kill me."

"Never you, Liv. Love and hate are two different sides of the same coin."

There was more silence between them, Munch's words bringing back the memory of Elliot, his face so close to hers, such pain in his shining blue eyes. "I loved you. God help me, I still do."

"Why don't you come back?"

His voice cut through her thoughts. "John?"

"To SVU. Your current squad sounds as exciting as bingo night at the Riverside Senior Center. And you know Cragen would take you back in a heartbeat. And whom else can work with the wraith formerly know as Stabler? Damn, Fin and I would let you win at pool for the next ten games."

Olivia laughed. "Let me win?"

"Fine, if not that, we can buy the next couple rounds of beer. How about it?"

"I…I'm not coming back. Too many things have changed. I've…changed."

All of the humor was gone from his voice when he spoke next. "If you ever want to talk, Liv…"

"I know. Thank you," she answered quietly. She looked around her, her apartment slowly coming into focus again. "Listen, I have to pack…"

"Don't remind me. I haven't had a decent vacation since Regan was in office." He sighed. "Don't forget that postcard."

She laughed. "Of course." Olivia paused for a moment, her own sentiment trumping any stealth she had at this moment. "I'll miss you, John."

There was uncomfortable silence on the other end. "You're coming back…right?"

"Yes," she spoke softly.

"If you don't, it will break Stabler's heart."

"There's nothing left of me to break." His words, his words always came back to her. She had already broken him.

Olivia bit her lower lip. "I have to go. Please say my goodbyes to everyone."

"I will, Liv. I don't think you know how much you'll be missed."

It was on that note they ended the phone conversation. Olivia realized that she might have given herself away, that Munch was an excellent detective for a reason and she hadn't exactly been prepared with her plans prior to the call. She would just have to trust him not to share any speculation he had with Elliot. The thought made her smile briefly, knowing that her name was taboo around him anyway. Munch probably wouldn't be able to get much out after her name before Elliot would hit him.

Olivia sighed, glancing around her small Manhattan apartment, taking account of all of her material possessions. The plan that was forming in her head was terrifying, but at the same time, she accepted it as necessary, pushing emotion back in favor of practicality. Once again the detective persona was in charge.

She walked over to the large, mahogany bookshelf in her living room, pulling out her old address book from the third shelf. She flipped through the yellowed pages until she made it to the B's, and then specifically, to Benson. There was only one name remaining that wasn't scratched out. Sylvia Benson, phone and address in Portland, Oregon.

Fingertips paused on the page, Olivia let herself think back of all the memories she had of Portland. Decent sized, nowhere near NYC, but still large. The climates were similar. Safer in a lot of ways to that of her dear City. Probably a nice place to raise a child.

Olivia was dialing the number before she really had a thought of what to say to the older woman, her only known remaining relative. A cousin of her mother's, Olivia hadn't even seen her since the funeral.

"Hello?"

"Sylvia? It's Olivia. Olivia Benson."

There was a pause, and then a delighted gasp. "Livy! Oh, darling, it's been ages. Why, Serena's funeral, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"Such a tragedy, that. Your mother was too young." There was another pause. "How are you doing, Livy? Still working for the police department?"

"Yes." Olivia sighed. "It's a long story, Sylvia."

"I have time, darling."

"We might be able to talk in person. I'm flying to Portland in a couple of days and I wanted to ask if I could see you while I'm there, maybe catch up on old times, and maybe you could show me around the city."

Another happy exclamation came from the older woman. "That sounds lovely, dear! Portland is gorgeous this time of year. You haven't booked a hotel, have you? Don't. Since Roger passed away three years ago, this big house is just screaming for company."

"I don't want to trouble you…"

"No trouble at all, Livy."

Olivia settled into the couch as she continued the easy flow of conversation with the Sylvia, feeling more in charge of herself and the situation since that pivotal night three weeks ago.

"The pain of seeing you again…I can't deal with it. There's nothing left of me to break."

She had broken him. She wouldn't do it again.