Chapter 4

Olivia Benson's Apartment

9:04 a.m.

Saturday, January 27

Olivia awoke to the sound of breathing near her ear and a heavy arm slung over waist. It took her a moment to realize where, and more importantly who, was snoring softly behind her. When she did she snuggled deeper into his embrace, relishing the feel of his solid body cradled around her. She heard and felt when he began to wake up. His breathing settling into the lighter rhythems of wakefulness and his arms tightened around her.

She smiled secretly to herself before rolling over to face him. "Good morning."

He kissed her softly, hesitantly on the lips. "Good morning yourself, beautiful. You sleep well?"

"Nope. You snore," she said nestling deeper into his embrace. He grinned at the playfulness in her tone. This was a side to Olivia Benson he could really get used to.

"I do, do I? I could tell you the same thing, but I am too much of a gentleman."

"Why would you tell me that you snore when I just told you that?" she said slipping out of his arms and heading for the door.

"That's not what I meant and you know it," he called after her. Her only response was her laughter.

He lay on her pillows for a few minutes just trying to take in everything that had been happening between them, his light mood momentarily abandoned. He had stayed the night. On her bed. With her. He'd stayed at her apartment before. He had been here with her only a few nights ago, but it had always been different. They'd been different.

They had always defined their relationship with work. They were 'Partners'. In the NYPD, that meant friends, support system, back-up. It did not mean that any of those words were followed by 'with benefits'. And while he had yet to enjoy the 'with benefits' part, he knew that their relationship had been heading in that direction for a very long time. The dissolution of his marriage had forced him to lean heavily on Olivia and yet he'd fought that, distancing himself in a way that had hurt her.

He had been trying in the last few weeks to heal the breach that he'd created and she seemed willing to put it behind them. Her confession last night had made him realize how far he'd pushed her. And how far he would go to get her back and keep her there.

She needed him now. This thing with Grace was not just her chance at redemption, it was his too.

He was startled out of his reverie by the shrill morning ring of her telephone. He could hear her low voice as he dragged himself from the safe haven of her bedroom to the smell of coffee brewing in the kitchen. She hung up the phone just as he entered. She had a huge grin on her face as she turned to him.

"Someone woke up on the right side of the bed this morning," he said grinning back at her. "Good news?"

"Sort of. That was Grace. She wants to meet for lunch today." She said as she began pouring coffee into two NYPD mugs.

"I take it you're going?" he asked curiously.

"I am. I've wanted for so long to see her, to know her and I just can't believe she is giving me this chance." Her smile faded just a bit. "I don't know if I would, if I were in her shoes."

"Liv," Elliot said tipping her chin up. "Don't question this. It's good. You have an incredible opportunity to fix what you think was a mistake. Don't overanalyse, don't doubt it. Just enjoy it.

She looked at him funny. "You don't think giving her away was a mistake? That you would have made the same choice?"

"I told you before, Liv. I think that you made the best decision you could. And while I can't whether or not I would have made the same choices you did, I do understand wanting to protect your child. That's what you were doing, isn't it? Protecting her from the kind of life you had?" His eyes never left hers as he pulled her into his arms.

"I loved her so much," she began pulling him closer and resting her head on his chest. "She was so little. I only got to hold her for a few minutes before the agency came for her. I wanted so much to just hold on to her. I almost didn't let them take her. She was looking at me with these trusting eyes like she knew I would keep her safe. I was going to tell the agency people that I'd changed my mind and then my mom came in the room and I could smell the gin. I just...I couldn't take her home to that, El. I couldn't live with myself if I let my baby have that life."

"I know. Maybe that's why you get this chance. I know you don't believe in God but maybe someone up there really is looking out for you."

She smiled up at him with watery eyes. "I would really like to believe that."

The morning seemed to drag on. She sent Elliot home and made him promise not to call. She was nervous enough without his presence reminding her that not only did she have a burgeoning relationship with her twenty-two year old daughter but a chance at a life with him.

Grace had arranged to meet her at a small cafe near Central Park. It was one of those upscale resturants that prided themselves in being as private or as public as one wanted. She was already waiting in a corner booth when Olivia arrived. They smiled awkwardly at each other.

"Hi," they said at the same time.

"Well, this is awkward," Grace said grinning at Olivia.

"Yep," Olivia said grinning back. "So, what should we do about it?"

"Well," she said thoughtfuly. "We could go back in time and start over but I doubt that would help much or we could both order drinks and chat about the weather until they come."

"So, it's been really cold lately," Olivia said with a smile.

"Drinks it is! I'll have a white wine," she said to the waiter who appeared as if by magic.

"Same," Olivia said turning her full attention to the woman sitting before her. Grace shared her chocolate brown eyes and high cheekbones and she could her mother's sense of humor in Grace's smile, but there was something about her, a spark, that Olivia couldn't name. And then it hit her.

Grace was happy. Not momentary happiness but a lifetime of joy shone out her smiling eyes. It was a concept that Olivia found hard to grasp. Her childhood, hell her life, had been one disappointment after another and the world she saw everyday at work had jaded her to the point that she almost didn't recognize contentment when it stared her in the face.

Grace looked at her inquistively. "Penny for your thoughts?"

Olivia smiled at her. "I was just thinking about you. You look happy."

"I am happy. I've found something I've been looking for my entire life."

"No. I mean, I was thinking that you look like you've had a great life."

She sighed softly. "I have had a good life but this...Knowing who you are, where I come from. This is what makes it great."

"Tell me about it. Please?" Olivia was deparate to know everything about her daughter's life, but she didn't want to push Grace too far.

Grace smiled gleefully. "I thought you might feel that way, so I dug out a bunch of old photo albums and stuff. It's all back at my apartment, if you want to come over after lunch?"

"I'd love to," Olivia said with a smile in her voice.

The awkwardness of strangers wore off and they chatted like old friends. They talked about Grace's recent graduation from Harvard and her plans for law school in New York, Olivia's Academy days and her years on the force. They did not talk about what she did for a living nor why.

Two hours later found them at Grace's penthouse on Central Park West. It was a beautiful building just off 72nd and Olivia was a little overwhelmed. The building oozed money and class. It was a far cry from her one bedroom near the precinct.

Grace lead her to a cozy room decorated in muted colors. A set of overstuffed couches in front of a long apothecary style coffee table dominated the room. Spread out were dozens of photo albums, all perfectly matched and labeled.

"My mom was a photographer. She took most of these," Grace said handing Olivia an album labeled 1983.

Olivia opened the cover and felt her heart stop. Inside was a picture of Grace in a hospital bassinet, her i.d. band still on her wrist, the letters spelling out 'Baby Bens' before fading around the curve of her tiny arm. "Oh My God," she breathed. "Where did you get this?"

"My mom-" Grace's voice cracked. "My mom was at the hospital that day. She wanted to talk to you. She tried to talk to you but the people from the adoption agency wouldn't let her. She wanted you to have a picture to take with you, so you would always have something to hold on to but you left too quickly. She took that picture for you."

"Why? Why would she care so much?" Olivia asked her voice strained.

"Because she knew what it was like to give birth and not have a baby to take home." Grace spoke softly, reverantly.

Finally, Olivia spoke. "What happened?"

Grace looked at her with tears in her eyes. "She had four miscarriages. The last time she got pregnant she carried the baby for eight monthes but he was stillborn. My dad says that after that she gave up living...until I came along."

Silence pervaded the apartment. Then Olivia turned page and Grace began to tell her the stories behind the pictures of the dark-eyed, pink cheeked little girl who dominated every scene.

Hours later, as the sun began to set behind the bare trees of Central Park, Olivia gathered her things.

"Olivia? I need to show you something," Grace said disappearing back into the living room. "My mom wrote this for you. It's from the day I was born. I think it's time you had it."

Olivia stared at the stark white envelope she held out to her. Slowly she reached out and took the letter. "Thanks," she whispered as she turned and started down the long marble hallway. She paused only when she heard the door click quietly behind her.