Olivia was annoyed. NYPD's pockets were so shallow that her ticket only allowed for a wide seat carriage with a curtain partition. For the cost of what she had to pay for a private room with meals included in the cost, she may as well have paid for the damn flight directly to Chicago.

She was sweaty, flustered and so happy to throw her overnight bag on the bed of the small cabin. She wasn't thrilled about the size of the shower or the toilet cubicle, but it was only overnight, she thought. She put her satchel down beside the bed and pulled off her fitted black blazer and threw it on the bed.

She fanned herself off in front of the mirror inside of the small clothes cupboard in the left corner at the foot of the bed. She opened the curtains and a small window to get some fresh air circulating.

After a few moments of catching her breath and staring blithely at the platform where people were still boarding, Olivia felt a little better.

She had to admit, after she got over the rush to get to Grand Central and almost being late then realizing her accommodation sucked, Liv was quite looking forward to the quiet time. She had a couple of work things to do, but she had gotten most of it finished after taking Noah to school.

And that had come with its own set of dramas.

Mrs Newcom, Noah's first grade teacher had asked to see her. Bracing herself for the worst and watching the horror form on her son's little face, Olivia expected that she was going get some news about her sweet boy that she wasn't going to find palatable to say the least.

Mrs. Newcom, an older teacher who had many years experience at the private school she sent her son to, ushered her in to the back of the room. "Sorry to bother you Mrs. Benson, I know you are a busy woman, but I just wanted to mention a thing or two to you in private."

"No, nothing is more important than my son," Olivia said quickly. She didn't want to be known as one of those mothers who's primary carer was the nanny – she and Lucy had a great partnership when it came to looking after Noah, and she always, always wanted to be involved.

"I'm not sure if you're aware but Noah has a little flare for art, if you will," spoke the teacher softly. Olivia had noticed her son's love of drawing and painting and she thought he was quite good too, but she couldn't see passed her own bias, she knew. "Two children from each class will be chosen to have an art project showcased at the middle school for a special art show and I was hoping that I could put Noah forward for the spot." Olivia studied the lines on the woman's face; her greying hair was pulled back in to a firm bun. She was a little surprised.

Was Noah really that good?

"Of course," she said, finally smiling, "I am sure he would love that!" Olivia replied.

"Excellent, as I said, I know you are a busy woman and I didn't wish to put any further strain on your work home/life balance as it were-"

"As I said," Olivia replied, trying to still sound warm despite her testy reminder, "Noah is my priority and I'm sure that between myself and his nanny, Lucy, we can be available to help by readying him for a big, exciting task. Would you mind sending the details to my email or giving Lucy a copy?" Liv asked.

"Of course, thank you for your time Mrs. Benson."

She felt the weight lift from her shoulders and was so happy that the teacher wasn't reporting bad behavior or slipping schoolwork. As she looked over to her son, she felt herself relax, he wasn't a bad kid – he was sensitive and kind and generous. He was busy wheeling a small boy to the desk where he was playing. The child in the wheelchair suffered Cerebral Palsy and although he could walk with an aid, it seemed easier for him to sit in a chair to prevent accidents or putting too much pressure on him.

She was proud of Noah as she watched him talk to the boy – not in a piteous or patronizing way, but in a way that made sure he was included in the pre-class game they were playing.

"Thank you, Mrs. Newcom. I better run, I'll say goodbye to Noah and I will let him tell me the news himself."

The teacher gave Olivia a wave as she made her way over to Noah and his two other friends.

"Hey guys!" she greeted them happily.

They all greeted her politely, referring to her as Mrs. Benson, except of course Noah. "Mom!" he grinned at her, slipping off his chair to greet her again. It was a novelty to have her in his classroom casually in the morning. He turned to the kids and despite the fact that everyone was aware of who his mother was, he wanted their attention, "guys, my Mom is a police!" he told them boastfully but with a beam of pride sweeping across his face, "she helps catch the baddies! Isn't that right, Mom?"

Olivia nodded, "Yes, that's true, I'm a police officer," she told the boys.

"Really?" the boy in the wheelchair asked, surprised, "how come you don't have a uniform or a gun?"

"Because I'm not going to work until later," she replied, "but if someone tells you they are a police officer and they don't have a uniform on, you should always ask to see their badge," she informed them, taking her pocket book from the inside of her blazer. She showed the boys her badge and let them look closely at it.

"That's so cool!" the other blonde boy exclaimed. Olivia smiled before handing it back.

"Thank you," she said, popping it away again.

"Mommy, can I show you my pictures on the wall?" he asked tugging at her arm with cautious excitement.

"Of course kiddo," she said, not having the heart to say no to him. He was clearly so proud to have her there. One picture turned in to about half a dozen and then Noah wanted to show her the cubby where all his other workbooks were.

"Honey, I gotta go, also your class is about to start, all your friends have arrived and Mrs. Newcom is waiting for me to leave…" she told him, getting down on her haunches to reach his level. "I promise when I get home I'll take an afternoon or a morning off and I'll come and hang out in your classroom with you before class and you can show me everything, alright?"

He nodded regretfully. "I don't want you to go Mommy," he pouted.

She gave him a hug and a little squeeze. "I know, but Mommy's gotta go to work. I'll call you tonight and I'll call you tomorrow and then I'll be back in time for Friday night pizza and movie," she promised, And wine, she thought.

"Okay," he sighed. She drew him away from her for a moment and gave him a smile.

"I love you Noah, you be a good boy for Lucy and her Momma, okay?"

He nodded. "Can you read me a story tonight?" he asked hopefully.

"Of course. I'll speak to Lucy and we can do a video chat."

"Okay," he agreed.

"I'll bring you back a surprise from Chicago," she smiled, "love you my baby!"

"I love you too Mommy," she kissed him and stood up, wincing as her knees creaked.

She gave him a wave and waved to his teacher as she made her way out of the classroom, not daring to look back or else she knew she would be filled with emotion at the sight of his puppy dog eyes.

Back home, she thought, paperwork, and then Grand Central. She made a mental note to take one of Noah's books with her so she could read to him.

She heard the final whistle on the platform and things got moving. She took off her boots and sat on the bed. It was more comfortable than it looked. She sat for a moment and closed her eyes. Even though it was only three in the afternoon, she felt overwhelmed with sleepiness.

She thought about getting her ipad out to prepare for the conference, but she drifted off before she had the chance.

Olivia looked over the menu in the carriage restaurant, sliding in to a booth on her own. She hoped that no one would try to sit next to her. She wasn't in the mood for small talk and she wasn't particularly good at it either.

She would have taken her food in to her room, but apparently there were things on the menu that didn't wasn't available on the room service menu. A juicy steak sounded good, but she couldn't imagine a train service cart getting it done right. She chose the beef brisket with the roast potatoes and vegetables. It would probably be the healthiest thing she'd eaten in a week.

A glass of red too, maybe afterwards she'd take a quiet whisky in to her sleeper and get as much sleep as possible, she thought.

Once her order had been taken, Olivia took her phone out and checked her messages. Nothing from Lucy, nothing from the other guys back at the office; she was able to feel relieved.

She thanked the server as she arrived back to the booth with a napkin and her glass of red. The first sip was good but the second sip was always the best, she thought.

She was glad to be out of the stupid constricting blazer and in to a more comfortable white t-shirt on a weeknight. If it had been acceptable, she would have worn sweats too.

The wine wasn't expensive, it wasn't amazing but it tasted okay. She felt all the tension fall away as she took her black-framed glasses off and rested back, closing her eyes and enjoying her solitude for just a second.

It had literally been a second when she opened her eyes to a dark grey suit, sliding in to the booth. Her instant reaction was to roll her eyes, but she held back.

"Do you mind?" he asked, without looking at her or even waiting for a response, "the other seats are taken…"

"I clearly don't get a choice," Olivia mumbled, looking out the window. She knew he didn't hear, but she dragged her eyes away and glanced at the gentleman before her holding a whisky tumbler.

Just my fucking luck…

"What are you doing here?" she asked, keeping her tone even, as if she didn't care.

"I could ask you the same question," he replied with a charming smile, turning his lips up, his blue eyes intensely staring in to hers as they always did.

It was hard not to feel disarmed around this man, even in the court room, she took a mouthful of her wine. She waited for him to answer her, she wasn't going to ask her question twice and she wasn't sure if she wanted to endure dinner with the enemy.

"Conference in Chicago – you too?"

Olivia nodded.

"Why did they think a sleeper train would be better and more convenient than a direct flight?" he asked curiously.

She managed a chuckle, "I dunno, but I bet you didn't have to spring for your own cabin and not some tiny little booth seat."

He stopped, perching the glass at his lips and broke in to laughter. She couldn't help but to laugh too; it was infectious. He shook his head in disbelief and took a drink.

"That…" he said, setting it down, "is … inexcusable."

"I'll bill them when I get home," she replied. "So why are you going to a conference on sex crimes and the law? Trying to find some loop hole to help rapists get away with it?" she wondered.

Trevor Langan rolled his eyes. "I know you think I'm the bad guy, but I'm not. I'm just a man who appreciates the law."

"Sex crimes are not black and white and you know that and yet you still make the choice every day to get up and represents rapists – I don't see how you can deny that."

He wasn't really ready for her abrasive reception. He was poised though, ready for her anger and to a degree, it was justified.

"The law is pretty black and white, Olivia, it was written on white paper and dried in black ink," he replied smartly, trying to keep the conversation light, realizing quickly that it wasn't a game to her, she really wasn't his biggest fan, he thought with deflation.

"Don't be cute," she replied, "the law wasn't written with rape victims in mind – you think law makers give a shit about a girl found passed out behind a dumpster with her pants around her ankles?" she was loosely referring to the last case she had gotten personally invested in - the one where he defended the rapist - and won, leaving behind three victims, two still too scared to leave their homes in broad daylight and one dead, leaving a small child in her wake.

"I'm not a bad person, Olivia," he told her steadily and evenly. She stared back at him as if she were appraising him.

"Keep telling yourself that while I continue hearing disclosures day in and day out…" she shrugged before looking around, "isn't there a coven of demons you can join elsewhere? I kinda wanted to take my dinner in peace."

"Oh my goodness, Olivia Benson!" he laughed – the joy in his deep laughter irritated her. "You are cold!" It was a front though, if Trevor had ever let on just how responsible he felt for that young woman's life, he'd fall apart. Instead, he left that for private and was slowly trying to work through it.

"You know how when you're in school," she began thoughtfully, "and the people who stand back and watch the bully is pretty much just as bad as the bully himself?" she asked, glancing at him, crossing an arm as she sipped her wine.

He figured out exactly where she was headed with it. "Are you kidding me?" he asked, incredulous and offended at what she was getting at.

She gave a non-committal shrug. "I dunno, Trevor… you have a young daughter, what are you going to do if she comes to you and asks Daddy why he's defending a person that hurts little girls or boys just like her."

"If you must know," Trevor began with frustration, "I'm actually taking a job with the district attorneys office," he said, "Because, I can't defend criminals anymore."

Olivia was surprised. "Congratulations, you do have a soul."

"Wow, you're meaner than I thought, Benson…" he couldn't help but joke, but it was obvious that her comments had gotten to him and she knew it was time to cut it out. "After I even helped you get custody for Noah, I thought we respected one another."

She gave him a hard blink, it was hard, she didn't want to be cruel, she had heard through the grapevine he hadn't dealt with the news of his reoffending victim well. "You defended a serial rapist a month ago and I still have two of the victims on speed dial to make sure they don't off themselves from the trauma," she told him, breathing in deeply. "Fuck NYPD," she muttered with frustration.

"What?"

"For putting me on a train for the next 19 hours, stuck…" the whole situation was a little too real and if she was honest, Olivia felt a little claustrophobic.

"I'm trying to make right for what happened with that case, Olivia," he told her sincerely. "After he reoffended, I had to do some serious soul-searching and I realized that I have a child that I have to protect right up until she's an adult and then maybe even some…" he explained.

He did feel bad and everything she was saying had merit. No one had kicked his ass harder than himself after the jury came back. He had been disturbed by the defendant's ability to play the victim and immediately escalate when he walked. Within 48 hours, he'd raped and murdered another young mother.

It was too much for him; it wasn't just black and white anymore. Children seemed to color things and put soul in to many things that he was able to look at objectively in the past.

"I'm not a bad person," he said again, more for his own benefit.

Olivia seemed to give in, "I know you're not..." she relented.

He smiled briefly at the woman he had known for decades. He didn't know her well, but after standing in as her adoption attorney for Noah, he glimpsed a side of her that seemed to humanify her; her edges stripped away showing the bare bones of raw emotion and a heart of gold – a maternal center that was probably responsible for the years of accolades and accomplishments she had achieved.

And it didn't hurt that she was beautiful, too, he thought.

A lot of men would have been turned off by her, she was a strong, ambitious woman who was opinionated, dominant and was never shy of saying what was on her mind; but after working with her to gain custody of her child, he had seen the other side of her – the softer side that endeared him to her.

He finished off his drink and set the empty glass aside.

"That's kind of you, I guess. I can go and take my dinner to my room, I don't want to bother you, you clearly have your mind made up about me," he said, feeling a little bad, but not all that surprised. He got up and adjusted his suit jacket.

Even his ex-wife was barely speaking to him after how the case had turned out.

"No," she said quickly, "it's okay, sorry, I'm sure it's not my job to punish you for doing your job… I guess if you're trying to fix things, who am I to be an asshole about that?"

Trevor gave her a small smile, one that said thanks.

"Also, someone else worse might sit across from me and I couldn't handle that," she teased, letting a smile fall over her face.

He felt the tension fall from his shoulders as he sat back down. "You sure?" he asked, "cos there was a guy waiting for a table down the other end who smelled like urine and moth balls, I could swap with him?"

Olivia laughed, "just shut up before I change my mind…"