As both Trevor and Olivia got outside of the hospital they lingered for a minute. "Thanks for having my back today, I really appreciate it," she said finally.
"You don't have to thank me for calling out bad behaviour," he replied. "If you want to report Liz or any of them, really, for what they did, I'll write a supporting document."
She shook her head. "No, its okay. I was having a weak day. I won't let anyone do that to me again."
"Good," Trevor replied. He paused, deciding on a last ditch effort. "Are you absolutely sure I can't interest you in dinner?" he asked, "as my friend."
Olivia smiled at him, "I'm okay, I promise," she replied but the idea was becoming harder to resist.
"Truthfully?" he began, "I could kind of do with some company after the day I've had. Something low-key, beer and tacos?" he didn't want to sound like he was begging, but really, he had nothing to go home to and his loneliness was degenerating in to wanting to be as far away from home as possible at all times. He had slept in his office more times than he cared to admit to anyone.
She stared for a moment, as if trying to decide, weighing up the pros and the cons. She saw the worry in his eyes that she would say no, that she would take it the wrong way – she knew he also had the day from hell. "Umm…okay sure, why not?"
"Are you happy for me to drive?" he asked her, his body instantly relaxing when he realized he had something to do to put off going home for an entire weekend alone with his thoughts and the ghosts of his past taking up space in the back of his head.
"You drove here?" she asked, with a laugh, "I thought everyone in New York caught taxis and ubers."
He laughed too, "I live in the upper west side, crazy, but its faster to get to work most days if I drive myself." He paused, "if you're comfortable, I can drive us to a really chill Mexican bar and I'm happy to drive you home afterwards."
Olivia considered the invitation, always feeling a little apprehensive about being in a physical and emotional space with a person that she couldn't immediately free herself from. She wanted to believe that Trevor was harmless but she could never be sure about anyone anymore.
He could read her hesitation. "…or we could walk somewhere close by, your call, whatever you feel comfortable with."
She couldn't punish everyone because of Franklin's behaviour. She also couldn't expect that every single person was out to hurt her. "Liv?" he pushed gently.
"No, its okay, we can drive, I don't mind…" she said finally.
/
"Wow, this is very nice…" she told him as he opened the passenger door for her chivalrously. He opened the backdoor and placed his things down in the empty seat and thanked her. He was driving an S series all-black Mercedes with the coolest navigation system and leather interior she had ever seen. "I'm too scared that I'll ruin something," she joked.
"Its just a car, it'll be okay," he replied but they both knew that it wasn't just a car to him. It was pristine.
He got in the driver's side and showed Olivia how to adjust her seat. He smiled at her as she looked around, amazed at how luxurious it was. "I was gonna ask if you had children, but I think I know my answer."
He laughed, "Yeah, I guess this isn't very kid friendly, is it?"
"No," she chuckled. "You should have never shown me your car, Trevor, I am one of those people when they're told they shouldn't push any buttons, they can't resist."
He laughed. "Just don't hit the eject button," he joked. He straightened up his rear view mirror as he waited for the engine to run for a moment. He placed his hand on the back of her seat and glanced over his shoulder before he reversed out.
Olivia could smell his cologne again and it was nice, it was very easy on the senses, she thought, not being able to place what it was. She remembered the scent of Franklin's cologne, it still taunted her if she happened to pass someone wearing it – it associated instantly negative feelings about the person wearing it.
Perhaps, triggering, she thought.
"I can't believe you have your own parking, aren't you worried someone might decide to do something to your car?" she asked.
He glanced at her as he began to drive and made a face; shocked, almost as if the thought had never occurred to him. "Shit… well now I do…" he laughed, "wait, why would someone do something to my car?"
"I dunno," she shrugged, "a scorned ex, an angry patient," she offered. He could tell she wasn't joking, she seemed serious – genuinely cautious of everyone else's intentions. He knew there was probably a bit to unpack there.
"No, I'm not worried. I don't have any exes that would go to that effort – most of my break ups are drama free and I really hope no patients would do that," he replied with seriousness. "Why, do you have ex's chasing you down?" he asked half-joking.
She shrugged, leaning back in to the seat, enjoying the luxury. "Maybe, I wouldn't know, I don't look back." He eyed her out of the corner of his eye and smiled. He saw her turn to him and smile right back and felt her surveying him. "You're incredibly tall, you know…" she remarked, as if he had no clue and no one had ever mentioned it to him before.
"Am I?" he asked, "good to know."
Olivia laughed. "Yeah, you are…" her voice trailed off and he couldn't help but to feel a little tickled that she was obviously paying attention to his appearance. For whatever reason, it gave him a little thrill that he wasn't quite sure how to feel about.
"I was going to say…" he began changing the subject, "you can touch the buttons, nothing you touch can break anything, so go for the gusto…"
"Nah, I will definitely break something, if I touch the nav screen this car might burst in to flames," she joked.
"Oooft, the insurance payout might be nice but I don't really want third degree burns on my beautiful, beautiful face…" he laughed.
Olivia laughed too. "Thanks for the offer for dinner," she said sincerely, "this day has really been awful and I really don't have a single friend here and after last night's disaster at making friends, this is welcomed."
"The more I think about it, the angrier I get. Is it just me, or are the younger generations getting meaner?" he asked. "How do you invite someone out and expect them to know it's a date?"
"It wasn't a date," she corrected him, "she wanted to 'hang out', whatever that means… it was like being hit on by a 12-year-old, it was so … gross and I feel bad saying that because she is a really, nice attractive girl – but no."
"What kind of girl does Olivia Benson go for?" Trevor asked as they stopped at a set of traffic lights.
She couldn't help herself, she leaned over and touched a button on the screen. "Ahhh," she said with a sigh of relief, "sorry, I told you, I have to touch everything when I know I shouldn't"
Trevor rose an eyebrow and laughed. His eyes lingered over hers for a moment, wondering if she was flirting. She gave him a light hearted chuckle, "What?" she played innocent; she knew her words had a double meaning and hadn't immediately meant to be suggestive, but she felt more comfortable than she expected so the joke felt safe.
She observed his driving when she thought about how to answer his original question. He had his hands on the wheel at ten and two and didn't miss out on always looking over his shoulder before changing lanes and seemed calm despite everyone beeping and getting frustrated in the peak hour traffic.
She thought he looked way more handsome with his glasses on which he put on as soon as he got in to the car. They were clear frames and just made his beautiful, intense eyes pop. It was easy for her to recognize just how attractive he was – his bone structure was sharp and angled and the corners of his mouth turned up in to a crooked smile each time he found amusement in something she said.
"I don't have a type," she said finally, "I think when I meet someone special there's just a feeling—it's not always immediate, but there's something that always keeps drawing me back in."
"That's very romantic, Olivia, I didn't pick you as a romantic."
"Why?" she asked, "I'm a woman – I could hate everyone in the world and still believe that romance is still alive," she replied.
"That's kind of sweet and refreshing," he replied. Finally, he thought, there was a break in the traffic. He took his chance and weaved out from behind a car and they finally made tracks.
"What about you? What's your idea woman?" she asked.
He shrugged, "Someone who isn't going to freak out over work, I don't ask for a lot, just… understand what I do and appreciate what I do and I'm happy to provide, to encourage and to support whatever she wants for her own life."
Olivia smiled to herself. "That's kind of nice too," she replied.
/
Olivia was happy when they arrived at the restaurant without a hitch. They found parking and walked side-by-side. "I don't mind these warm nights," she told him. She had left her white blazer back in the car, since she was no longer at work she felt less self-conscious about wearing a thin strapped shirt that showed her arms.
It didn't go unnoticed to Trevor, her tanned skin on display, showing off her curvy, womanly figure. He loved her style. Her high waisted pants made her look taller and her shirt showed just a little cleavage but not so much that it became distasteful. She wore a little jewellery – a chunky gold chain around her neck and a bracelet on her wrist.
"It might be busy, it is Friday," he remarked.
"Are we a bit too dressed up for this place?" she asked, noticing people filing in wearing more casual wear.
"Nah, lots of people come here from work, surely?"
They entered the restaurant and it wasn't as busy as it looked from the outside. They were seated with menus and Olivia realized just how hungry she was. Everything looked good.
Before the waitress left, Trevor ordered himself a beer. "What would you like? Beer too, or something stronger?" he asked her.
"Beer, make that two Coronas," she smiled at the waitress, "thank you."
Trevor rolled his shoulders and rolled his sleeves up a little. He looked handsome and casual with his glasses on, a shirt that didn't look so stuffy; the doctor's coat left back at the office and all the tension of his day disappearing quickly from his face.
"What?" he asked; she realized she was staring and quickly looked down at the menu. Her cheeks flushed with colour.
"Nothing…" she replied.
He let it go and hoped he hadn't spilled something on himself, but after giving his shirt a check, he shrugged to himself and glanced at the menu. "Oh shit, you're lactose intolerant, I'm so sorry, I forgot." he murmured, remembering that she could only take coffee with oat milk.
She looked up and laughed, "I'm not lactose intolerant, I just don't like milk…"
"You told me you were lactose intolerant!" he exclaimed, his lips turning up in to a grin that made his nose crinkle. "You lied, Benson!"
Olivia couldn't help but to laugh, "I was pissed with you that morning, I didn't want to take your stupid coffee!"
Trevor laughed, "well lucky, because just about everything on this menu is stacked with cheese…"
"As it should be," she replied. "Ok, what's good?"
"We could order a bunch of different tacos and grab some corn chips and dips?" he suggested.
"Okay," she agreed. "I trust your judgement…. Sort of." She laughed in spite of herself.
"When it comes to food, I won't steer you wrong, I promise."
The waitress arrived back with their beers and they picked out a couple of different Tacos and Trevor ordered the dips and corn chips as well as a side of chilli fries.
Olivia picked up her beer and pushed the lemon wedge that was blocking the opening down the neck until it plonked in to the alcohol.
"Cheers," he said to her, lifting his bottle and holding it out. She lifted hers and clinked it gently against his.
"Cheers," she repeated, taking a mouthful of it.
Trevor watched her wince a little as she swallowed her beer, almost as if it wasn't really what she wanted to be drinking. She was a little quiet and withdrawn, perhaps holding back for self-preservation reasons. "So why does a California girl like you leave for New York?" he asked, breaking the ice. "I know you said there was a break up but, I don't imagine you to be the sort of woman that would run for it."
"Wow, that's a big question," she widened her eyes as she looked at her beer, crossing her arms upon the tabletop, glancing at him. He found himself getting caught in her warm stare. He knew it was a big question, but she didn't seem bothered by it.
"I didn't run from my ex, New York is … an adjustment, shall we say?" she smiled. "It's an acquired taste, maybe." She thought about what she could say, "truthfully, there was just a lot happening and a lot that had happened that I just needed to leave, I'd had enough – and I applied for this job on a whim and I landed it and realized that maybe it was meant to be."
Trevor took another sip of his beer and nodded, "Please don't take this the wrong way, but I was surprised when I saw that you're so well established in so many fields and you're doing psychology – I find that to be deeply fascinating, not even in a negative way, just – how you go from point A to … point Z - well, almost in terms of how different they are."
She hated his innocent questions because she didn't know how to answer them in a way that could even make sense to her.
"Well…" she paused, thinking it over, "I don't really know how to answer that question – it's so loaded…but in the interest of friendship, I guess," he watched her struggle to find the words to answer him and he felt bad.
"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," he said with an empathetic smile, noticing that she had tensed a little.
She ignored him, resting her elbow on the table, wrapping her hand around the back of her neck behind her long, beautiful warm brown curls and glanced up at him, ignoring the out he had given her.
"I wanted to be a cardiologist for as long as I could remember and then when I got to that point, I met this guy who ended up becoming my mentor – he's a really renowned and talented thoracic surgeon and he encouraged me and we used to have these wonderful in depth discussions about cases and studies and I loved to pick his brain, he was so smart – he let me sit in on a few surgeries and the whole thing was thrilling and…" she paused realizing that she was gushing over Franklin which she found herself still doing when she was able to entirely block out the other part.
"He sounds like he was someone special to you," Trevor smiled.
Olivia's expression dropped and she shook her head ridding it of the whimsical fantasy of who she truly believed Franklin was in the beginning. It was so easy to forget the monster that he became.
"Nevermind," she tried again, "I guess I learned very quickly that working as a surgeon is like working with predominantly men who would otherwise be at the end of their career, full of their own ego, politics and God-like complexes," she explained, "I mean… there was obviously other things too, but I didn't like who I became – maybe that's me not being able to hack it, but honestly it became too exhausting to fight that uphill battle," she admitted, "like flogging a dead horse"
"Yeah…" Trevor murmured, "I have heard the surgical politics are insane."
She had more to say; the words just looking over the tip of her tongue, like jumping off a ledge – once they were out in the open he would either respond in one of two ways and only one way was going to bode well for her; if he responded as some others in her past, she knew she would shut down.
Despite Trevor having his own flare-ups of ego, she knew it wasn't nasty and it didn't have malice attached to it – he didn't set out to hurt her feelings, she was realizing that. She liked him, he was a genuinely nice guy who loved his job and who was always going to put his patients first – she related to that.
"And…" she started, as the waitress appeared. She closed her mouth, sensing that it was an omen to not say much more. The waitress set the food down in front of them along with an empty plate each.
"Thank you so much," Trevor flashed her a smile but his attention was immediately back in the palm of Olivia's hands. He had watched her hesitate to say more, he didn't want to discourage her, he wanted her to know that he was attentive and interested in what she had to say.
"This looks good…" she remarked.
He nodded, "Finish what you were about to say," he commanded her gently.
Her eyes met his for a second and the intensity of his stare seemed to assure her that he wasn't going to say a dumb thing, but maybe the moment had been lost. "I don't know… it doesn't really matter."
"It does," he replied, "I'm interested."
She let out a slow breath hoping that he didn't catch it. "the first surgery that I performed – went really wrong; he was three and it was a routine valve repair – an Annuloplasty," she explained. "My mentor was directing it, I didn't want to lead because I didn't feel ready but he pushed and I never dared to push back," she continued, self-consciously pushing her hair behind her ears.
Trevor watched her grab her own hands to stop them from wriggling around, obviously finding it harder than he realized to tell him about that situation.
"I was told that the complications had nothing to do with what I was doing, but my mentor had me open the patient right up to massage his heart in my hands which I was told was not even the right thing to do—when he realized things were going badly, he ripped off his gloves, berated me and left me there to try to fix it…"
"How did your patient fair?" Trevor dared to ask but he thought he knew the answer.
"He passed… I was with him for a long time just … trying. My mentor was frustrated with me, bored of the situation and made me, who had zero experience, tell the child's parents…" He saw her eyes glassing over but she quickly blinked and looked away from him. She picked up her beer and took a sip of it, remembering the patient's mother's face and the animalistic scream of grief when she gave the news.
"I'm so sorry that happened to you," he said softly.
There it was, she thought, the most perfect response anyone had ever given her. She should never have been put in that position and she should never have been left alone just because Franklin didn't get the outcome he wanted.
She almost burst in to tears. She swallowed the lump and nodded, sniffing. "Thanks…" she said in a whisper. She cleared her throat, "It really sucked."
"Did you receive counselling or therapy?" he said, realizing that it was still affecting her.
She shook her head. "It wasn't really offered to me and I didn't think about it for awhile but yeah, I was traumatised and managed to somehow finish up my residency, get qualified and got the hell out of dodge." She took a long swig of her beer to try to wash away some of the surfacing emotions.
"I'm sorry that that happened," he repeated, "losing a patient on your first experience – and having someone walk out and leave you to deal with their mess, I can't imagine what that was like, must have been traumatizing."
Olivia gave him a sardonic smile and finished her beer. "I think I need something a bit stronger," she muttered. He felt a little troubled because he could only imagine the type of PTSD that would have been associated with what she went through with no support.
His first patient loss was tough but he'd had incredible support and a team who ensured that he got through it.
She glanced at the food and picked up a hard-shell beef taco. "This looks good," she remarked. "I'm pretty hungry, and I'm pretty sure I'm going to wear this – so please don't judge me," she changed the subject quickly without a beat. He could still see her trying hard to mask how shaken up she was even retelling the story, but he decided to let it go. He understood masking feelings, he'd spent a lot of his life doing that too.
He smiled at her as he grabbed a fish taco. He took a bite and remembered how amazing they were. "So, so good," she remarked, dabbing at the corners of her mouth with a napkin, not wanting to smudge the mahogany lipstick she'd been wearing all day.
"Right?" Trevor confirmed, "this place is the best… it's worth crossing town to get here."
"I was suspicious, but now I understand," she replied, taking a second bite.
He chuckled. "So, Dr. Benson have you done any sight-seeing since you arrived in New York?" he wondered.
"Sight-seeing?" she laughed, "where do you think I would have the time for that?" she asked him. "Just nip out on my half-a-second lunch break?" she joked.
"Weekends?" he supplied.
"Trevor, I have no friends, I am not going to go on a bus tour like a loser on my own, or go to the top of the Empire State Building to be like WOW SO COOL to myself, it's lame." She finished off the beef taco and eyed off another.
Trevor gestured, "go on, help yourself, we can always order more…" he loved that she was in to it and not too worried about how she looked eating. He watched her scoop some salsa verde on to a corn chip. "I don't even mind if you double dip," he joked.
She signalled to a passing waitress, her eyes passing over the drinks menu. "Can I please have a Vodka soda with lime?" she asked politely.
"Of course," he waitress looked to Trevor, "and you sir?"
"Mmmm," he thought about it but didn't want to have a second beer just yet, "I think I'll sit on this one for a bit longer, thanks," he replied. He looked to Olivia, "I'm driving, remember?"
"Ah, yes, right… sorry about that," she smirked.
"So if you want to do something touristy," he told her, "you do have one friend if I'm cool enough," he added, "so if there's something you want to see, I'm happy to tag along. I love rediscovering the city."
He was aware that she was in to women, but he was drawn to her – he could tell beneath the surface that there was a lot more to find out; he already could see her intensity, her intelligence and her quiet sincerity. Her dedication to her job was also something that he could really understand and identify with.
"Thank you," she smiled, "I might take you up on that on a weekend where I don't feel totally exhausted."
"I get that," he replied. "How wonderful and sweet were those gifts from Sarah today?" he asked, starting on his second taco. "It honestly just brightened up my day."
Olivia grinned, "Yeah, I was not expecting that. All I had to do was to teach her how to read the patterns and boom, she left my creative skills to dust," she laughed. "We had a really nice session today actually, usually it's just fun and games with Sarah but we talked about feelings and her moods, I got emotion from her which hasn't been easy," she admitted.
"She told me that you admitted that you were feeling sad," Trevor remarked. He wasn't sure if that was the done thing – if telling a patient about your own feelings was wrong.
"Yeah… she picked up on it, most kids do, they're very intuitive. Sometimes levelling with patients; young and old will open them up more. I want my kids to trust me and to know that I'm honest with them the way they are with me – I saw her just after seeing Maisy so I was a little shaken up."
Trevor nodded with understanding, "I hope you don't think I was suggesting you did the wrong thing," he replied, finishing off a few bites.
"No," she shook her head, "I don't follow all of the conventions," she smiled at him. "I'm a hugger, I think especially in the young patients, physical comfort has its place as long as its consensual and the patient initiates it; also that setting in which that takes place is an open environment – I always disclose it to the parent too, I have to protect myself."
"I like that…" he replied, "I like that you don't hold back. I have to be careful by virtue of being a male, but I love hugs too," he smiled, "but I think the difference is, most of the time the parents are present and it's never an issue really."
"I gave a hug to Maisy on our second session – she was really upset and overwhelmed but I told her Mom afterwards and she was fine with it, she actually thanked me," Olivia smiled. "They're a lovely family but … she's going through a lot."
"So what do I need to know about that one?" he asked, noticing Olivia's thoughts trailing off, a cloud passing over her expression that darkened her mood instantly.
"Well…" she drew in a deep breath, "the genetic disease – it's causing organ shut downs, slowly but surely. She's doing really well and she has such an amazing attitude toward it all and," Olivia grinned at him, "her jokes are insane, this kid is really funny and comes out with things that should be well above her maturity, so get ready for that that," she warned him.
Trevor laughed, loving how she lit up talking about her patient.
"But what I think has happened is that because she has a rare case, professionals find her interesting so they just come along and without being asked by a GP, attach themselves to her – she has a renal specialist that she's not interested in seeing – they're trying to figure out her reproductive system and the kid is 11 and truthfully, she may not get to the age of child bearing and even if she does, she probably won't be able to if her organs have failed."
"That's so weird. Who would have given the referral?" Trevor asked. "Isn't this just more care that they end up having to pay for?"
"It's all insured, thankfully – and the other part is considered life-saving so it does get written off, but" she shook her head, "it's not the point –this is where you come in, I think you'll be good at advocating for the things that she needs and holding up a hand to the vultures that swarm her over things that she does not need," she explained.
Trevor nodded. "And is she a little gun-shy at the moment in terms of male doctors?"
"Totally, her mother told me she won't let anyone touch her right now which is fair. I figured that since she trusts me, she will trust you and together we can figure it all out – if you're willing to work closely with me on her case."
He smiled, "Of course," he replied.
Olivia was happy when her vodka arrived. After a few sips, she felt herself beginning to unwind and feel a little more relaxed. The food was amazing, Trevor's conversation was interesting to her and she felt a little less upset about the drama with the nursing staff.
"So Dr. Langan, what stopped you from specialising in a particular area?" she asked him, setting her drink down.
He laughed, "you assume, Dr. Benson – I do have a specialty," he replied, "I am a respiratory specialist and am on the Cystic Fibrosis Board at Trinity... I'm also part of the Transplant Board."
"Wow," Olivia rose her eyebrow, "I guess I'm the only moron who puts her credentials up on the wall like a prick?" she grinned, a little self-deprecating and cheeky too, he thought. Her relaxed smile was infectious. "That's a great field, I always admired respiratory health, there's a zillion elements to it and while it's interesting, my heart went with … hearts," she chuckled.
Trevor could have listened to her talk all night. She had proven herself to be intelligent and funny and it had been a long time since he'd met a woman who didn't ask stupid questions and who didn't want to know how much money he earned.
"As if heart care is not at all complex and hard to understand…" he laughed, "you're crazy, Dr. Benson – I did take a slight interest in heart care and even considered it as specialist study but I think … something happened for me in my family that made me want to subconsciously continue with respiratory."
"Oh, that's fair enough…" Olivia replied. "Can I ask… what happened?"
"Yeah," he smiled, "I had a cousin who had CF and I spent a lot of time with her and her family growing up and when I finished my general practice studies, she passed because her lungs failed and a transplant didn't come up in time."
"I'm really sorry…" Olivia replied, reaching over and placing her hand over his. He glanced down at her show of affection. It was striking to him – she was a tiny bit of a contradiction. She clearly characterised herself as the type of woman who avoided heart-felt moments and affections, but she didn't really have an issue dealing it out. Her compassion was ever-present and he appreciated that about her – she struggled to accept it though, as evidenced back at the hospital.
"Thanks Olivia," he smiled. She returned it before retracting her hand and the warmth disappeared immediately.
"I was actually thinking…" she began, "depending on how you feel… would you like to open our envelopes from Justin together, or do you want to do that in private?"
Trevor reached for his messenger bag, wiping his mouth with his napkin. "Okay, let's do it… but I want to warn you, this type of thing… losing a patient, it's the one thing that gets me super emotional."
Olivia smiled warmly at him, her heart feeling full as she took another sip of the vodka, "me too.." she reached to her handbag and took out her envelope. They both laid them on the table and shared eye contact. "I still don't know what he possibly would want to give me, probably telling me my shrink appointments were useless because he still died."
Trevor chuckled. "No, he liked you. I was trying to figure you out when you started, so I grilled him about you…" he admitted with another little laugh.
Olivia laughed, "seriously?"
Trevor nodded. "Yeah I just wanted to know if you were nice or if you were setting out to push him to try different courses of treatment – sometimes shrinks do that, they get it in their head that a patient should be doing everything they can – I guess because you have a medical background you understood that his treatment was end of the line."
Olivia agreed, "Maybe. I do see my physical medical background as a plus to some of the things that I see, especially in this setting. It's easy for some patients – especially out patients—to fall under the radar with regards to their physical health."
He nodded, "I knew there was a reason why I don't hate you," he joked.
"Great, we're off to a great start, Alexis thinks I'm a raging lesbian and you don't hate me, go me, I have a lot going for me."
They both laughed.
"Well… who's going to go first?" he asked, nodding at the envelopes.
"You go first," she replied, "I'm not tipsy yet. If I plan to get emotional, and I know I will, I'll probably have to be a little tipsy for that," she laughed in spite of herself.
He laughed too.
With a little sigh, he picked up the envelope and started to pull at the adhesive edges. Inside it was just a small folded bit of paper. Olivia watched his eyes as they fell over the page. He adjusted his glasses upon the bridge of his nose and let his eyes pour over the words. He leaned his elbow on the table and rested his chin on his hand, covering his mouth in concentration.
His eyes flicked up to meet Olivia's for just a brief moment, feeling her watching him attentively. He swallowed a lump in his throat.
Dear Dr. Langan,
When I was diagnosed everyone was so supportive and all my friends were always here with me – I was almost a little bit of a novelty and then their company wore off and so did their sense of trumped-up altruism. I get it, I understand – but besides my family I had no friends and it was hard not to be sad over that.
I know you are my doctor, but I got excited to see you every time I had an appointment because you talked to me like I was a person and not a disease. You didn't treat me like my mortality was all you could focus on, even when that was your actual job.
I know I was a job to you but I believe that you care so much on a personal level and you came to feel like my friend. I love our talks about baseball and how notoriously awful the Knicks are but how we will always love them anyway. I love when you make time to hang out with me even if its not your job to do that…
I think you should do the things I never got to do but dreamed of – getting a girlfriend, getting married and maybe having some kids. I know guys my age don't think of that, but guys my age aren't writing letters to their doctor from the beyond…
You were the best influence on my life and I hope that you find every bit of happiness. Thank you for telling me about your brother. It meant the world that you understood first hand from everyone's perspective, you said you hated to feel sad about Thomas, but I think sometimes its okay to feel sad.
In saying that, Don't let Mom and Dad cry too much. Thank you for everything Trevor. With lots of love, your friend, Justin."
He wiped away the tears that slipped down his cheeks as he looked up at Olivia, wishing he could feel embarrassed, but he knew she would be moved to tears if she read it too.
"Your turn," he said in a whisper, clearing his throat.
She didn't press him to share. She finished off her vodka, feeling it go to her head as she opened the letter up. Hers felt thicker than his and she started to chuckle softly as she pulled out the contents. "Oh Justin…" she murmured with a slight smile.
She glanced up at Trevor holding 3 affirmation cards that he had taken from her deck as an exercise. Olivia could see Trevor still trying to stop his eyes from watering. She put her cards down and reached over to touch his hand. "I know…" she said softly.
He just nodded and swallowed hard. She appreciated that he was comfortable enough with himself to allow his emotions to surface in front of her—it didn't make her feel so bad about crying earlier in the afternoon before they left work. He took his glasses off and wiped his eyes with a napkin.
"I'm sorry," she said, as he moved his hand away from hers, not wanting to offend him with her hands-on compassion.
"No," he smiled, clearing his throat, "I really .. just didn't expect that from him." He balled up the napkin, immune to the stares of others around them. He tapped the back of her hand that was still sitting outstretched further on his side. "What do you have…"
She glanced at the three cards and spread them out so he could see. She gave a little scoff with a smile. They read, "I am a good person," "My failures are not who I am," and "I am loved even when I am doubtful."
She unfolded a little bit of paper that was smaller than Trevor's and began to read. "Thank you Olivia for trying.
You cheered me up for many reasons and I'm going to be honest, you are the hottest person I've ever met in real life… but aside from that you became my friend and even if I said I hated therapy I was happy to see you because you always let me talk about what I wanted and dealt with it if I was being a jerk.
You gave me these cards and I want to give them back to you because I want you to know you are a good person and I'm sure you're perfect but I saw on your wall that you're a surgeon but not anymore so I think if you feel like you've failed, you should know its not who you are and also that you are loved even if its just by a dumb, 15-year-old patient. Thank you for being there for my family and I. Please take life and embrace it to the fullest. Justin."
Olivia stared at the cards and gathered them up and put them aside. She bit the inside of her mouth to stop the tears from surfacing. "You okay?" Trevor asked.
"Dammit…" she muttered, letting out a breath and with it the beginnings of hot tears and she wiped away as quickly as they had descended down her cheeks. "That little shit," she half-sobbed and half-laughed. "Really knows how to make it hurt…"
Trevor reached over and touched her hand as she had for him. At first her natural reaction was to flinch, but she quickly let her hand meet his again. "Do you want to share or are we going to keep it to ourselves?" Trevor wondered.
She looked down at the letter for a second before sniffing and pushing hers to him along with the cards that he had probably already read. Holding Justin's letter in his hands, Trevor handed his over to her.
She let her eyes travel over the letter he recieved and began wiping her face more furiously. She was embarrassed; the table to their left were starting to stare. Trevor flicked his eyes over, noticing too, but he didn't really care. He read Olivia's letter and looked at the cards, holding them in his hand, poised, wondering which one in particular got to her the most.
Trevor looked at Olivia and smiled through his tears. He took off his glasses and wiped his eyes again before placing them back upon his face. He pointed just below his own eye, "you have a little tiny make up smudge…" he told her, watching her wipe her face gently.
"Where?" she asked, pointing over and over to the wrong spot.
Trevor was able to laugh and waved her forward. "Get closer," he laughed, "you're hopeless," he joked.
She leaned forward and let him swipe his thumb gently below her eye. "There…" he remarked, satisfied.
As she sat back she reflected on what an intimate moment that was; him touching her softly. She batted off the feeling and concentrated on folding his letter back up. "What a wonderful kid… he deserved better…" her voice trailed off.
"He certainly did…" Trevor agreed.
"Can I ask?" she held up the letter, "who Thomas is?" she paused, watching Trevor's eyes fall to his plate full of crumbs and little remnants of salad and sauce. "That is… if you're comfortable."
He shrugged. He didn't know where to begin or how much to say. He gave a shrug and sniffed. "I lost my little brother when I was 11. He was 8…And after that I would say that my childhood was rendered over." Trevor spoke the words like simple facts, his words void of emotion.
"I'm so sorry," Olivia said softly.
A couple of things immediately fell in to place for her – all of Trevor's patients, every last one of them – they were do-overs, they were all his chance at fixing his brother. But, they were only band-aids, temporary gauzes to block whatever pain still ate away at him – pain and guilt that would have snowballed over the years if it wasn't something he liked to talk about.
Trevor could see Olivia surveying him. "Please don't shrink me," he said quickly, "I don't want you to look at me like that… it is what it is, there's nothing but pure coincidence that I'm a doctor now—" he lied.
Olivia gave him an understanding and sympathetic smile. "I'm not going to shrink you, it'd be unethical," she told him, "I mean, now that we're friends… but just like my past experiences and heartbreaks determine my future, yours will have had some influence too, it's not rocket science and I know you know that," she told him, "but we don't have to talk about it, I can see even bringing up your brother has made you uneasy."
"Was Justin on the money with the cards?" he asked her, changing the subject. "Do you feel like you failed because you're no longer a surgeon?"
She gave a half-laugh at his question. She signalled to the waiter and asked for another vodka and soda. Trevor asked for another beer.
She shrugged, "Sometimes I suppose I do."
He paused and placed the failure card down back on her side and stared at the next one in his hand. "And what about this?" he asked, "do you feel unloved?"
She chuckled, feeling exposed and vulnerable. "Let's not go down that path, that's a thread I'm not ready to pull at."
"Okay," he said simply and handed it over to her.
"And this card, I can answer this one – You are a good person, Olivia Benson, I can see that."
She smiled at him. He handed back her letter. "And your patient thinks you're the hottest woman he ever met," he couldn't help but to tease her.
"Yes, well… he did have a fairly small world, didn't he?" she asked, her cheeks getting a little pink. She tucked the things back in the envelope and put it in to her handbag.
"Well, I mean… surely you know you're a good looking woman-"
"Okay stop," she laughed, "don't… don't make it weird," she replied.
"I can say that objectively as your friend, Olivia," he said with a laugh too, loving how sweet she became when she was embarrassed. She ducked her head and tried not to smile as her cheeks went pink. "Don't worry, I'm not hitting on you, I know you're not in to men."
"Now, wait…" she stopped him. "Can we stop speculating on my sexuality?" she asked, turning a little serious as the waitress dropped the drinks off.
Trevor was intrigued, he was annoyed by the interruption, concerned that Olivia wouldn't continue with what she wanted to say. She seemed not to be bothered and even ordered a few more tacos. Trevor piped up asking for another couple of chicken ones.
"I didn't mean to speculate, but you told me you were in to women…"
"No," she shook her head, "I told you I had an ex girlfriend in L.A. You assumed I was a lesbian," she corrected him, "and stupidly, so did Alexis."
"Oh…" Trevor's voice trailed off, feeling embarrassed. "So…" he began, daring to ask, "if you're comfortable," he began, "are you bi-sexual?"
"No," she paused, "well, I guess if you had to label it, maybe… but I don't call it anything, it just is what it is," she explained, "I dated a girl in college briefly, I dated men too. I just date the person, not their gender – sexuality is fluid…" she paused, "a lot of people get caught up on the labels, but it's a spectrum, if the feelings are there for someone then… whatever."
Trevor seemed confused, but she had already picked up that he was a traditionalist in some ways. "I feel stupid," he laughed, "because I don't know what that means, does that mean you like men or women or – you just decide in the moment if you like someone?"
Olivia laughed at his sweet confusion. "I'm saying sexuality is a spectrum. A lot of people experience this feeling of attraction when they meet a friend, it's really intense – and it can feel romantic and passionate and you can't get enough of them," she explained as Trevor stared at her, intense and attentive and hanging on to every word, intrigued by how her brain worked, "and sometimes they confuse that feeling for friendship when it's romantic – it can be a reverse situation too," she explained. "But I will put it to you, Trevor, that you could potentially meet another man who makes you feel so crazy that your whole life as you know it would be turned upside down and you could-"
"Nope," he said with a laugh, "I know 100% that I would never be interested in another man. I already know that… It's an absolute for me. I love my very few male friends, but the idea of—"
Olivia couldn't help but to laugh. He tried so hard to be mature about it but she could tell he was struggling to think of himself with another man. "Its okay Trevor," she chuckled, "there are studies on this, I know what I'm talking about. Chances are, you probably won't ever end up in a same-sex relationship, but social constructs often have a way of closing our minds off to the right person if they come in the form of the same sex if we haven't been previously attracted to that."
"So… have you ever been in a long term relationship with a man?" he wondered.
"Yeah, I had a boyfriend through my first years of medicine, he was wonderful, a really good guy. We were together for a few years," she replied, "my last relationship with Charlotte was recent and that lasted …" she paused to think, "I don't know, maybe 5 months, but it was intense and…"
The waitress dropped off some more food. Olivia was drunk, she knew it and Trevor could see her slowly relaxing to the point of opening up more than he expected she might. "and maybe for me, I did the wrong thing and promised things I shouldn't have…"
"We all do things like that in relationships," he replied, "it can be messy and selfish and confusing at times."
She nodded. "Yeah… something like that I guess," she replied and he sensed that she didn't want to talk about it anymore. "Bottom line, Dr Benson is not a lesbian. Dr Benson is mostly at the male end of the sexual spectrum, but Dr Benson feels safer with females…" she laughed at her own stupidity of speaking in the third person.
"Dr Benson may be a little tiny bit drunk," Trevor grinned at her; her comment about feeling unsafe with men, had however, not gone unnoticed. "she should eat, soak some of it up…"
She did as she said and he did too, not wanting her to feel rotten the next day.
/
"Wow," Trevor chuckled, watching her stumble as they got in to the street. He put his arms out to catch her fall. She was very drunk but he didn't mind. It was just on 11 when they'd left the restaurant. She had soaked up a beer, two vodkas and two margaritas. They'd both eaten way too much, but Trevor wanted to keep her eating to level out how drunk she was getting.
"Here," he said, "hold on to my hand, I don't want you to trip on those heels and break one of your ankles or worse…"
She did as she was told, chuckling good naturedly as he walked her carefully to the car. He went to the passenger side of the Merc and opened up the door for her, making sure she didn't hit her head when she got in.
He got in to the car and saw her fidgeting with all the buttons. "Oh brother," he smiled as he turned the car on. "Liv, please, please don't play with all of the gadgets while you're a little drunk," he implored her.
She sat forward and stared at him with a big, crooked smile, her eyes a little more squinty than usual. She held his eye contact as she reached to the navigation screen and pressed a button out of spite.
He couldn't help but to feel a little taken by her. She was goofy and sweet and the cheeky smile made his knees feel a little weak. "Please…" he added.
She sat back in her seat and sighed as he turned the ignition on, the smile still spread across her lips. "Thanks for paying, you didn't have to, I don't usually let the other person pay unless it's a date." She sat forward suddenly alarmed, "this is not a date, right?" she asked as if the thought had struck her. "I didn't miss the signs did I?"
He couldn't help but let out a peel of laughter. "No, Olivia, this is not a date, we established that after work. I invited you out though, I pay, it's the rules. I don't make them, I just follow them."
She got a little quieter as they pulled out on to the road. "Trev…" she murmured, looking out the window.
He smiled at her familiar shortening of his name. "Mmm?"
"I know I'm really drunk… please don't try anything."
He was quizzical, concerned by her remark. "What?" he was momentarily offended at the thought, "I don't plan on it," he replied, troubled. "I'm not that guy. I'm the guy that gets you home safely to make sure no one else pulls any stupid shit," he explained, "promise."
"Okay," she replied, satisfied with his answer.
He remembered her fleeting comment about trusting women more than men. He figured there was probably some reason behind it all, but it wasn't something that wouldn't have been right to ask her about when she was so drunk.
"Liv, you need to give me your address…" he told her. "I don't know where I'm going."
She supplied it to him which he punched in to the navigation system for directions. It was a little while away and on a Friday night, they'd be stuck in the car for a bit longer.
"Could you put the radio on?" she asked him.
Trevor smiled and pressed a few things, "why don't you hook your phone up, show me what Olivia Benson declares her best playlist and I'll determine whether or not I'll need to effectively end our friendship."
They both laughed. Olivia struggled for a second to get her phone out. As she pulled it from her bag she squinted to read the screen to see that she had a message. She sighed and pulled out her glasses to see it better. Trevor watched her slip the black frames over her face and open the message.
It was from Charlotte. She had deleted her contact but she recognized the number immediately. "Hi Liv, I don't mean to harass you but I miss you. I've had a rough week and I can't stop thinking about you. I really hope you're okay. I could just really do with one of your famous hugs…"
"Fuck…" she muttered shaking her head.
"What's wrong?" he asked, watching her furiously type back.
"Please stop this. I can't do this, it's not fair. You promised to stop. I don't want to have to delete my social media pages and I don't want to have to change my number. Stop."
"My ex…" she sighed, "who knew women can be far worse than men." She slumped back in her seat. "I dunno what to do about it, the guilt is just … killing me."
"All you can do is tell her to stop whatever she's doing. You don't have to feel guilty."
"I have a thousand reasons to feel guilty," she replied. She sighed again resolutely and opened her playlist and connected her phone to his car. He sensed she didn't want to get in to it. He let it go.
"Here," she told him, "get ready to have your socks blown off by how cool my taste in music is… I bet you probably only listen exclusively to…. Jazz." She spat the word as if it were an insult to him.
"What's wrong with Jazz?" he laughed.
Olivia cracked up too, "I knew it!" She exclaimed, "I knew it! You music snob! Well, prepare to be wowed. My music has a sense of fun!"
Trevor began to laugh as soon as he began to recognize the tune of the 80s hit. He nodded with amusement and mock approval, "okay, okay…"
"Don't you judge me, Jazz man…" she told him, laughing too.
She sat back and moved around in her seat, getting in to the Tina Turner classic. Trevor loved that she was so in to it. He turned it up for her.
Surprising him Olivia began to belt it out as it got to the chorus, "We don't need another heeeeeeroo! We don't need to know the waaaaay home, all we want is life beyond the thunder dommmee oh oh oh!"
She glanced at him, a big smile taking over her face as she sang at him. Her sloppy smile was contagious and he couldn't help but join in with her.
"See!" she told him, "best music ever!"
He said nothing and continued to drive, concentrating on the road and marvelling at all the fun he hadn't expected to have with Olivia.
/
By the time they got back to her apartment and through the awful traffic, she was sleepy. He parked his car. "Come on," he told her, "let's get you up to your apartment."
"Its okay," she told him, almost stumbling out of the car.
"I don't think that's true…" he chuckled. He took her hand and helped her out, locking the car door. Together they made their way to the front stoop. She input her security code, relenting and letting go of control, not that she had much.
He held her hand and helped her walk up what seemed like endless flights of stairs. "This is all you could afford?" he asked half-joking.
"It's all I could find," she replied, correcting him, "its disgusting isn't it?" she remarked.
"I mean…. its okay. We need to find you a safer better apartment, Benson." Everything about it looked flimsy and unsafe – almost as if he half expected someone to be passed out on the stairs.
Finally, they got to the door. She tried three times to stab her key in to the lock without success. He held his hand out for the keys. He unlocked the door and opened it up, holding it open for her. She walked inside, her arms out to steady herself on something. "Don't forget your keys, Liv," he told her.
She turned around and smiled. "Thanks for tonight…"
"You're welcome. I had a great night…I hope you did too." She was advancing toward him and at first he thought she was going to try to kiss him but she didn't. She wrapped her arms around his chest and hugged him. He took a step back, taken aback by her sudden affection.
Slowly, recovering from the feel of her warmth against his body, he reciprocated, hugging her back tightly. "Mmm, hugs are good," she told him with a smile on her face, closing her eyes, taking in the scent of his cologne.
He felt his heart beat pick up speed, enjoying the embrace a little too much for midnight. He let out a very slow breath, about to break the embrace, but she did first. "Sorry, I just thought you needed a hug."
He smiled at her, towering over her, smiling right back and letting his eyes linger over her beautiful face as she took a step backwards. "Thanks…" he replied.
"Goodnight Trevor, thanks for driving me home and making sure I got in okay."
"Goodnight," he replied with a little nod, waving as he pulled the front door shut and listened for the distinct sound of her bolting it shut behind him.
He let out a breath as he descended the stairs and back to his car trying to make sense of all of the dopamine rapid-firing through his brain.