Tuesday, July 7, 1992

The apartment door shut behind Olivia, and for the first time that day, she felt like she could breathe.

It was the first time in close to a week she'd been able to.

She should never have followed the third perp. She should have stayed with Patrick on the second floor, let someone else catch the last guy.

But it was her first bust, and she'd been high on adrenaline and a need to prove herself. If she was honest, all protocol thoughts had flown right out the window when the time had come. The liability she'd opened herself up to, how the perp could try to pin something on her in a desperate attempt to save their ass … none of that had even entered her mind until well after the arrest.

Thank God for Patrick.

She should be upset that he lied to IAB for her. She knows she should, and in time Olivia is sure that the ease she feels now will morph into that. But right now, staring at the photo of Josie on the wall, the one where she's got a guitar in her tiny hands and is trying her damndest to play it, the only emotion she can feel is relief.

Relief she still has a job that her little girl can see her succeeding in despite the gender biases of society.

Relief she can continue down her path to getting justice for victims.

Relief that maybe, one day, she can solve the great mystery of her own life.

As is always the case when she starts to think of her mother's rapist too much, Olivia quickly shook her head and moved on. She looked at the clock and saw there was about an hour before she needed to leave for JFK to pick up Brent and Josie from their annual Ward Family Georgia trip. It was a trip Olivia usually would be on, but being a rookie meant Liv didn't have time off or pull to get that much vacation. The two weeks without her daughter had been torture, but in retrospect, she was glad she had been gone while IAB had been looming.

The whole episode could stay a secret. Brent would have to worry about one less thing, which is all he seemed to do when it came to her lately.

If Liv was honest, she'd been relieved the two weeks he was gone in Georgia. They were a welcome reprieve from the nervous energy he seemed to exude ever since she'd started going on patrol. Olivia knew that was normal; all the other officers had told her it always took a while for family members to relax and come to terms with what their loved ones were doing in the hours they were gone.

But it bothered Olivia. She couldn't help it.

It was foreign to her to have someone who cared enough about her and was sober enough to maintain the concern. Was Brent overbearing, or was he just the usual amount of nerves that anyone in their right mind would have when a person they loved was out risking their life day after day, night after night? She honestly couldn't say.

As Olivia walked by the child-size grand piano that they had to pull Josie away from at times, she knew she could say that she desperately missed her daughter. Her father might set her on edge, but her daughter brought her back to herself time and time again. Nightly calls and postcards and drawings had been a poor substitute for the hugs and playtime Olivia usually enjoyed whenever she wasn't on duty. At first, she hadn't minded the chance for a break. She'd constantly been running on overdrive since she started at the academy and what little bit of a social life she'd had since college had all but evaporated.

It made sense, she knew, that college friendships didn't always leave the place they formed. It didn't help that instead of running around to bars and parties while she was there, she'd spent most of her free time with a baby and boyfriend. That only meant that the friends Liv carried with her from Siena were solid, and over the past two weeks, she'd enjoyed a couple of nights out with Donna and Theresa. It had been nice, freeing even, just to go out and have a few drinks and enjoy a little dancing and a bit of male attention.

Slipping out of her uniform and into a t-shirt and jean shorts, she smiled as she remembered one particularly flirty guy who spent the night sending her cocktails and trying to get her to dance. When she'd finally given in, she'd been unsurprised when he wanted to get her to go home with him after a few songs. Olivia hadn't taken him up on the offer, but knowing she was still desirable as a woman even as she felt like more and more of her was being hardened by the job had been the pick-me-up she needed.

The novelty of free days and nights had worn off for Liv eventually, and loneliness had crept in. Josie was a ball of energy, a chaotic mess of a child who tore through their two-bedroom apartment with all the grace of a newborn giraffe. The silence was foreign in their home, and Olivia wished she would hear some disjointed notes banged out on the piano or the eerie song of Josie's Lil' Miss Mermaid Doll that Brent kept trying to hide it "freaked him the fuck out." When she watched Sesame Street alone one morning when she was off, Liv knew she was losing it.

But, as she walked into Josie's bedroom, taking one last look at the made-up bed with the new Barbie sheets and bedding she'd picked up over the weekend, Olivia couldn't help but think there were worse ways to suffer from loneliness. Hers was temporary. Give her a few days, and she'd be longing for some silence instead of Josie's constant questioning about what happened next after watching a show or reading a book.

Her drive to JFK went about as well as to be expected. Olivia had long given up on having any sort of patience with New York drivers whenever she was outside her patrol car. It didn't help that the Ward's Chrysler station wagon she was driving was like a small boat cruising through traffic. She always felt ridiculous when she was behind the wheel of the faux wood-paneled car, but she knew the sort of luggage Brent and Josie were bound to be coming back with wouldn't fit in the Honda Accord they usually drove.

In the terminal, she stopped to grab Josie a Happy Meal in hopes of preventing the post-flight meltdown they'd had last year. The frantic energy of getting to the airport without leaving something behind meant the little girl got too wound up to eat or nap before they boarded. In the air, the novelty of bein' 'n da sky had her oscillating between giddy and terrified, the sort of emotional journey that an almost four-year-old couldn't handle for long. By the time they landed, hunger and tiredness had morphed together in her daughter to form a sobbing, screaming gremlin. Liv ended up making a run with Josie to the car, leaving Brent to handle getting all the baggage to the curb. Luckily, he'd gotten help from a sympathetic older couple with 12 grandchildren and experienced more than their fair share of public breakdowns.

As the gate doors opened and passengers started to stream out, Liv could hear a high-pitched voice unmistakably her daughter's saying goodbye and thank you to everyone she came across.

"You know, the more you keep talking, the longer it will take to get to see mama." Brent sounded exhausted, and not just normal exhausted, but a strained and worn to the bone type that he only reached after Josie took every last bit of energy in him. Liv would see him standing just at the apex of the curve in the walkway from the plane to the gate, his dark brown hair disheveled like he'd been running his hands through it in frustration and his glasses, usually only worn at night, on.

"But I have to say bye to Miss Flight Attendant Kelly because I'm polite, right Daddy? That's what Meemaw always says."

"Meemaw isn't here, and Miss Flight Attendant Kelly doesn't want you to be polite right now, honey. She just wants you to go home, and so do I, and so does your mama, who I bet is right outside, so scoot your boot, and let's go." The patience in Brent was slowly wearing thin, and Liv wondered if she should have gotten him food instead of Josie.

"Mama is outside? Oh my gosh, we have GOT to go."

Without hearing it, Liv knew Brent would be muttering under his breath about how that was just what he'd said, but the man had an infinite well of patience and was never one to snap too hard. That well, that solid and dependably good and kind soul was the very essence of what made Brent the man Olivia loved.

But loving and being in love with someone were two separate things, and understanding where she and Brent fell on that spectrum of feeling never seemed to be something she liked to dwell on for too long. It was enough for her to say that he brought her comfort, joy, laughter, and a sense of security and belonging that Serena Benson could never provide.

And there was Josie. She was the most incredible thing Olivia had done, and she loved Brent desperately for the role he played day in and day out, helping her keep that little girl happy and healthy.

An excited shriek and little feet running pulled her out of her reverie. Josie came surging out of the doorway of the gate and into the terminal, her dirty blonde high ponytail flying around as she looked side to side to spot her mother. Stepping around a couple fussing over their carry-ons, Olivia smiled brightly and opened her arms, Josie flinging herself into them.

"Mama! I missed you!"

"I missed you too, baby. I missed you so, so much." Placing a kiss against her daughter's head, Liv closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, the smell of the Herbal Essence shampoo and conditioner Marg always let Josie use filling her nose. She could feel tears threatening to break through as the swell of emotions she was feeling started to overwhelm her. Opening her eyes, she saw Brent standing in front of her, his smile and gaze soft. It made her feel warm, like the heat from a fire in a chilly room.

It added comfort, but, in its absence, she knew she wouldn't suffer.

That night, after Josie was safely tucked in bed, having exhausted herself by telling Olivia all the exciting things she saw and did down in Georgia, there was no grand or passionate reunion between the two parents. Short of a couple of heated kisses, they fell quickly back into their regular nightly routine.

"Anything noteworthy happen while we were gone?" Olivia looked over from the book she was reading and watched as Brent settled down next to her in bed, the novel he was editing for work coming to rest in his lap. He looked at her with interest, just like he always did. Liv couldn't claim that Brent didn't try to make this relationship work, that he didn't try to be what she needed. Who wouldn't want a partner who was interested in what they did?

The IAB investigation sat on the tip of her tongue.

"Donna met the love of her life at the bar last week." Brent scoffed and went to pick up the manuscript.

"How long did that last?"

"About forty-eight hours." She answered with a laugh, turning back to her reading, listening to the rustling of paper as Brent found his place.

"Work good?" Liv bit her lip at the question, knowing that this should be it, this should be the moment she came clean, shared the burden for a moment.

She didn't, though.

Liv chose to put another brick in the wall that was slowly being built between them, a wall Brent didn't realize was there.

"Yeah, it's going really well."