A/N: many thanks, as always, to Steph and Race, for your kindness, your support, your enthusiasm, your suggestions, your friendship. Love you queens.


It was raining.

Of course it is, Amanda thought glumly as she and Kat slid out of the car, made their way across the pavement towards a couple of unis who were standing around under umbrellas. It was nearly midnight on a Friday, and Amanda and Kat had drawn the short straw, and now here they were, in the rain, watching all their physical evidence slowly washing away while the crime scene techs did their best to fight against the inevitable. They couldn't have, just for once, had a quiet night; no, they had cold, and rain, and blood in the gutters.

This fucking job, she thought. Still, though. It beat the shit out of any other job, as far as she was concerned. Where would she be, if she wasn't here? What would she do, if not this? Be a schoolteacher? A stripper? No, she'd probably be dead, because if it weren't for this job she never would have met the people who gave her a reason to claw her way out of the hole her gambling had dug for her, and she'd probably have ended up just like tonight's vic, nameless in an alley somewhere. Yeah. This was better.

"What've we got?" she called to the unis; the two kids - and they really were kids, two young fresh faced boys who looked like they were up past their curfews - turned to watch as Kat and Amanda came walking up, held out their umbrellas and offered the detectives shelter. Are they even old enough to shave? She wondered, looking at them.

"White female," the kid closest to her began, "early twenties, DOA. Signs of sexual assault, multiple stab wounds. CSU's working on her now. Morgue's backed up, they said they'll get to her soon as they can. In the meantime, we're gonna get her loaded up here in a few. Don't wanna leave her out in the rain."

"You covered her, right?" Amanda peered past the kids towards the alley where their vic had spent the last few minutes of her life. For once, Amanda wasn't in a hurry to see the crime scene for herself. It was too fucking cold, and she'd seen too many bodies lately.

"Yes, ma'am," the kid said. "Tented a tarp over her, keep the rain off her."

That was good, Amanda thought. It was the least they could do for her now, try to keep her dry. It might not have mattered to the vic, but it mattered to Amanda.

"What's his story?" Kat piped up, pointing, and Amanda followed the line of her finger to the spot where a man sat handcuffed on the curb.

How did I miss that? She asked herself. It was dark - or at least, as dark as it ever got in Manhattan - and it was raining, but still. The guy was only a couple of yards away, and now that she'd seen him, she couldn't look away. He was a big dude, tall, muscular, wearing a grey hoodie over a dark t-shirt and jeans, soaked to the bone, now, because the unis had left him to sit in the rain with no cover, probably frozen, too. His hair was buzzed short, and it was too dark to see the color of his eyes, but those eyes were watching her, unblinking. Even from a distance, he seemed focused on her, the streetlights glinting off his irises, shiny and black, throwing shadows across the nooks and crannies of his weathered face. It might have been a handsome face in the daylight, she thought, but in the darkness it was cold, and threatening, somehow. The way the unis had caught his hands behind his back just emphasized the spread of his shoulders, his soaked sweatshirt sticking to the heavy muscles of his arms, throwing every line of him into sharp relief. He looked powerful; he looked like he could have broken the chain on the cuffs with force alone, if he wanted to.

Please, don't let him want to, Amanda thought.

"No idea," the uni said to Kat. "He was here when we got here. Blood on his hands, standing over the girl. He hasn't said a word."

"Maybe he's deaf?" Kat suggested thoughtfully, but the uni shook his head.

"Nah, he reacts to sounds, and he follows commands. He can understand us just fine. He just ain't talking. We figured we'd keep him here, let you guys deal with him."

"Gee thanks," Amanda said drily.

"Any ID? On him or the vic?"

The uni shook his head.

"He's carrying a phone, but it's locked and he won't give us the code. No wallet, no ID. The girl's clothes are ripped to pieces, and she didn't have anything on her."

"Maybe the perp took it with him," Kat mused, rubbing at her jaw. Amanda just let them talk; she was too busy thinking. Watching that guy, watching them. Looking at the alley, the buildings around them, wondering if they'd get anything off the canvass or if everybody would swear they'd been fast asleep, and never heard a peep. Maybe they hadn't; maybe the guy hadn't given her a chance to scream. Someone had to call 911, though. Not this guy, she thought. If he'd stumbled across the scene and called for help he'd have no reason not to talk now. But if he'd killed her, why had he waited around for the police to show up? Why hadn't he just left?

Something's off here, she thought.

"Nah, I think you're looking at our perp," the uni told Kat, gesturing toward the man on the sidewalk. "He's too calm. There's something wrong with that guy."

"But you didn't find a weapon on him," Kat countered. That was the thing about Kat. She liked a fight.

"Maybe he tossed it in the gutter."

"Maybe we should ask him," Amanda said, shutting down the back and forth. They were giving her a headache, and she needed to think.

Dead girl, no ID. Stabbed. No weapon recovered. Man found near the body, blood on his hands, not speaking, no ID, no weapon on him.

Think horses, not zebras.

The simplest answer, of course, was that they had their killer already, that Mister Strong and Silent over on the sidewalk had killed the girl, tossed his weapon, and...and what? Just waited for the cops to show up? Just let them cuff him without a fuss? The fact that he wasn't speaking troubled her; maybe an EDP, maybe not, she thought. Maybe he was off his fucking rocker, or maybe he was smart enough not to say anything until the time came to ask for a lawyer. Maybe he really couldn't speak, or maybe he was playing some unfathomable game.

Only one way to find out, she told herself.

Slowly she stepped out from beneath the cover of the uni's umbrellas, and Kat fell into step beside her. Years of nights just like this one had taught Amanda well, and she wore a baseball cap to keep the rain out of her eyes. Mets, not Yankees, because it had been over a decade since she'd left Atlanta but some prejudices die harder than others. Kat hadn't thought ahead, though, and she kept brushing her hand over her face, pushing her heavy dark hair back out of her eyes.

She'll learn, Amanda told herself. I hope.

"Sir?" she said as they drew near to the man sitting on the curb. Really, there was no need to call out to him; he'd been watching her like a hawk since she arrived, and he had followed her progress with an unpleasant sort of intensity. Almost like...almost like he'd been waiting for her.

"I'm Detective Rollins, this is Detective Tamin," she continued, flashing her badge at him while Kat did the same.

"You SVU?" he asked.

So the fucker can talk, Amanda thought. His voice was low, and gravelly, but sounded perfectly sane. That was hardly a reassurance, though, because he knew who they were. He knew what had been done to this girl - probably knew better than anybody, had probably done it himself - and he knew who'd they send to investigate it, and he had sat quietly on the sidewalk with his hands behind his back, just waiting. Waiting for them.

"Yes," she said.

"Good," he said, and a chill that had nothing at all to do with the frigid March rain coursed down her spine. Good, he'd said. Jesus, she thought.

"Benson still working over there?" he continued, watching her intently. Focused. Looking for a tell. She couldn't help it; she gave him one, because every alarm bell in Amanda's head started to ring, then.

Not again, she thought. Please, not again. Liv had been through too much pain, seen too much horror, endured too much grief. The last goddamn thing she needed was for some ghost to come walking, for some demon made flesh to go around butchering innocent girls just to get her attention. You can't have her, Amanda thought, fiercely, her eyes flashing in the darkness, her whole body tensing up. Whatever this man had done, whatever reason he had for speaking Liv's name, he would not win this game. He would not bring her down, he would not hurt her; Amanda would kill him herself before she let that happen.

"Why?" Kat asked. Kat might have been new but she wasn't fucking stupid, and Amanda felt a sudden wash of pride for the girl. It hadn't been that long since they'd brought Kat on board but Kat knew, already, that protecting the Cap had to be their top priority, that they weren't gonna give this fucker a chance to involve her in his twisted games until they'd at least gotten a glimpse of the board. They'd figure out what his angle was first, and then they'd start making moves of their own.

"Take that as a yes," he said. "I'll talk to her. No one else."

"That's not gonna happen," Amanda said through clenched teeth.

And that asshole, he just looked up at her, and smiled. True to his word, he didn't open his mouth again. He wasn't gonna talk to anyone but Liv.

Son of a bitch.


She didn't want to do it. She really, really, really didn't want to do it, but she didn't have any other choice. Technically, she could have let him sit in the holding cell all weekend, could have let Liv enjoy two blissful days off in a row, at home with her son where she belonged, ignorant of the violence and bloodshed in that alleyway, but if Liv came in on Monday morning and found out that they'd wasted two days not knowing who their vic was, not knowing what had happened to her, just to spare Liv a little unpleasantness, she would have been fucking furious. Whatever Amanda might have wanted, however much she might have wanted to take the silent fucker sitting in the interrogation room out back and put him down herself, she knew Liv would want to be here. Liv would want to see him, and maybe when she did she'd recognize him, and maybe once they had a name to give him they'd be able to pin down what had happened in that alley. It was what Liv would want, to be there, to help. She was too goddamn good, and too goddamn curious. This was a puzzle she'd want to solve.

So Amanda called her, explained what had happened, and Liv had promised she'd be at the station as soon as she could. While she waited Amanda took the man's fingerprints, but the fucking system was down overnight for software updates; they wouldn't be able to run the prints until the morning. All they had was what was right in front of them; a big, silent man, handcuffed, still, sitting comfortably at the table, waiting for Liv.

That didn't sit right with Amanda, so after a while she gave up and decided to take another crack at him. Kat stayed in the Captain's office, watching through the glass, while Amanda stalked into the room, and slammed the door behind her. The fucker didn't even jump.

He'd dried out a little, while he'd been waiting. In the glow of the fluorescent lights she could see now that his eyes were blue. Bright, and keen, and watching her as she paced along the front wall of the room by the glass. He'd gotten shuffled around a little in transit, and the chain around his neck had swung free from the deep V of his shirt, and she could see a silver cross resting gently against his chest. A strange accessory for a rapist and a killer. Then again maybe not; she'd seen her fair share of religious crazies, over the years. The cross didn't mean shit.

"We're running your prints now," she told him. It was a bold-faced lie, but he didn't know that. "We'll know your name soon enough."

The bastard had the gall to smirk at her, as if he knew that she was wrong, that she wouldn't find shit on him. He didn't say it, though. Didn't tell her she was barking up the wrong tree. Didn't need to; his face spoke for him.

So he wasn't in the system, then. Why the theatrics? Why the focus on Liv? If he wasn't an ex-con, who was he? Somebody who'd done something heinous years before, and gotten off scot-free? Whatever it was, it had to have happened before Amanda showed up in New York; she was certain she'd never seen this guy before in her life. Ten years she'd been working SVU, but Liv already had thirteen under her belt when Amanda turned up. Thirteen years; God only knew how many people Liv had encountered in all that time. How many victims, how many families, how many suspects, how many perps. The sheer number of people who'd waltzed in and out of her life was staggering, and the only person with the knowledge and experience to sift through all those cases and find this man's face was Liv herself. Liv who was on her way to the station now, Liv who was leaving her warm bed and her sweet little boy behind to look evil in the eye yet again.

"Why'd you do it?" she asked softly. "If you just want to talk to Benson, there are other ways. You didn't have to kill that girl."

The man's jaw tightened, and he looked away. For the first time all night he looked uneasy. He didn't like that, Amanda realized. He didn't like her saying he'd killed the vic. Did that mean he didn't do it? If he didn't, why didn't he just say so? Surely an innocent man wouldn't have been quiet this long. Surely an innocent man would have tried to defend himself.

Wouldn't he?

"I don't like you bringing trouble to my Captain's door," she said.

"She's a Captain?" the man spoke quickly, surprised, forgetting perhaps that he'd taken a vow of silence. "Good for her."

The weird thing was, he sounded like he meant it. Sounded like he was proud of her. Like he had any right to be. He knew Liv's name, knew she worked sex crimes, knew he was on her patch, but he hadn't known that she was a Captain, and that just solidified Amanda's suspicion that he was a perp from the old days. That he'd met Detective Benson, and taken a shine to her, and come back for her now.

"She-"

Amanda started to speak but there came the sharp rap of knuckles against the glass, then, and she ground her teeth in frustration, rose to her feet and stomped out of interrogation to meet Kat in the Captain's office. It fucking figured, she thought, that the second she started to make a little headway she'd just get interrupted, but she did her best to swallow her anger, not take it out on Kat when she rejoined her in the office.

"She's on her way up now," Kat told her.

"All right, let's meet her out there," Amanda answered. "I wanna talk to her before she sees this guy."

So they did, went out into the squadroom and waited anxiously by the desks until Liv came marching into view. She'd dressed for the occasion, hadn't turned up in jeans and a sweatshirt but in one of her black suits, her hair caught at the back of her head in a loose ponytail, her eyes tired but alert, a thermos of coffee clutched in her hands.

"What've we got?" she asked tensely as she approached.

Amanda launched into an explanation, a catalogue of the victim's injuries, the lack of evidence at the scene, the strange behavior of their suspect. Liv's brow furrowed with worry, but she listened without interrupting, the wheels in her mind turning as she examined the evidence Amanda had given her.

"There's something wrong with this guy, Cap," Amanda finished. "He's too calm. That's never a good sign."

"No," Liv agreed heavily. "It isn't."

"He gives me the creeps."

Old timers always talked about gut feelings, and when Amanda was young she'd ignored them; what the fuck does your gut know anyway? She'd always think. Now, though, after so many years in this job, after so many years spent working with Liv and Fin, she'd come to believe in the holy prophetic powers of the gut. The moment she'd first seen William Lewis she'd known, down to her bones, that the guy was evil, and she'd been fucking right, and she wasn't ever, ever gonna forget that. What she felt when she looked at this man in interrogation right now wasn't that extreme, but she knew she couldn't trust him. He was lying; he hadn't said much, but he was clothed in untruths all the same. He was hiding something, something big, something dark. There was guilt in his eyes, hiding behind his smug mouth. He played at bravado but he was afraid of something. And anything that could scare a guy like that sure as shit scared Amanda.

"Let me see him," Liv said. "We'll go from there."

They marched into the Captain's office, Liv in front, then Amanda, Kat hot on her heels, but as they crossed the threshold Amanda nearly ran Liv over because the second she stepped inside that room and looked through the glass at the man waiting for her Liv froze in her tracks, and her thermos tumbled from her hands to crash against the floor, an omen of doom. Liv never even looked at it; she was held captive by the sight of the stranger, waiting for her.

"Cap?" Amanda asked sharply, stepping to the side to get a good look at Liv's face.

That face; she'd always been beautiful, expressive. Heartbreak, and rage, and triumph, and love, every emotion Liv felt played out across that face. Those soft lips could settle into a pout, or a smirk, or a smile, and those eyes could dance with mischief, or shimmer with tears. Over the years Amanda had seen it all, but she had never seen anything like this. Still, she was so still, like someone had pressed pause on the tape of her life, her hands still hanging in midair as if grasping at the coffee cup she'd dropped, her mouth frozen in surprise. Liv wasn't breathing, wasn't moving, was just standing stock-still, staring at the window. Her dark eyes fixed unerringly, unblinkingly, on the man behind the glass, drawn there as if by some magnetic force, unable to look away, and there was something in those dark eyes, something bleak, and terrible, something that Amanda didn't recognize. Something that looked like grief, something that looked like rage, something that looked like heartbreak, something that chilled Amanda to the bone.

Slowly, very slowly, Liv began to move; she slung her bag onto her desk, and as she did Amanda saw that her hands were trembling. But Liv didn't stop there; she just kept walking until she was close enough to touch the glass, and all the while her eyes never wavered from the fixed point that compelled her, the man sitting bound at the table on the other side. What is she thinking? Amanda wondered. What is going on in that head of hers? If Liv would only speak, would only just fucking tell Amanda what was going on, it might quiet some of her unease, but Liv always played her cards close to the vest. The things that mattered most to her, her loves, her triumphs, her failures, she did not share them readily, and she was sharing nothing now.

"Cap?" It was Kat this time, sounding as nervous as Amanda felt.

"Listen," Liv said very slowly, not looking at either of them. "I'm not going to insult you by telling you to wait outside. I think we all know you're gonna watch no matter what I say. But listen to me," her tone was fierce, urgent, brooked no argument. "No matter what you hear, no matter what you see, you stay the fuck out of it."

"Liv," Amanda said her name softly, almost desperately; she didn't like this. She didn't like how hard the Captain's voice had gone, didn't like the way she could see her shaking, didn't like the idea of leaving her to fend for herself in that room, alone with a stranger. Well, he clearly wasn't a stranger to Liv, but he was to Amanda, and that made him a threat. If Liv would just look at her maybe Amanda could make her see reason, talk her down, but there was no grace to be found in the gentle lines of the Captain's face; her mind was made up. Liv had decided to face this man on her own, and she was insistent that Amanda not join her, not save her. Whatever hell awaited her in that room, it was hers, and hers alone.

"That's an order, Detective," Liv barked, and then before Amanda could protest she wrenched the door to the interrogation room open, and stepped inside.

The moment he caught sight of her the man vaulted to his feet, stood tall - or as tall as he could with his hands cuffed behind his back - and locked eyes with her, his chest rising and falling in time to his unsteady breaths. His eyes had gone wild with need, bright and blue and fixed on Liv now as she had been fixed on him in the office. The door closed behind her with an eerie sort of finality, drawing a line between Amanda and her Captain, a line she could not cross. Amanda reached out and turned on the speaker so she could hear every word they said to one another. She'd been given an order, and she'd respect it - for now. Clearly Liv expected things to turn ugly, but there was no way in hell Amanda was gonna hold back if this guy got violent. One wrong move and she'd be on him.

At first they didn't speak at all. They just stood there, looking at each other, the man standing behind the table, Liv lingering by the door, out of Amanda's line of sight. Tucked back into the corner, as far away from him as she could be and still be in the same room. Kat and Amanda stepped up close to the glass, holding their breath. Waiting. It was late, and dark, and quiet, and Amanda felt like the whole fucking world was waiting, holding its breath. Something was happening in that room, something Amanda didn't fully understand. The way Liv reacted to this guy it was like...like she knew him. Really knew him. Like he wasn't just some run of the mill asshole. Like there was something special about him. And maybe there was; he'd killed just to get her attention. Who knew what else he was capable of? What he might have done in the past, how he might have hurt Liv, once, how he might be planning to do it again.

"You look good, Olivia," he said, very softly. It was hard to get a read on his body language with his hands cuffed behind his back, but he was standing there by the side of the table, leaning towards her just a little, blue eyes searching her face, and there was kindness in his voice, then, kindness, and maybe a trace of fear, and none of the arrogance Amanda had seen from him so far tonight. He was still tall and still heavy-bodied but that body of his lacked the power she'd seen in him earlier; he seemed subdued, somehow, rather than threatening, and that didn't make any fucking sense to Amanda. This guy, he'd killed that girl in the alley, hadn't he? Killed her just to get Liv's attention, just to have an excuse to come and see her, but now that he'd gotten what he wanted he wasn't smug, or lording his ill deeds over her or anything. He was just standing there, looking at her, like he was begging her to say something.

She didn't, though. Liv shifted on her feet, leaned up against the glass, so close that if it weren't for the window between them her cheek would have been touching Amanda's. It was hard to read her expression in profile, but Amanda tried, just the same. Studied the turn of her mouth, soft lips settling into a pout, watched the reflection of the fluorescent lights overhead turning Liv's brown eyes black as night, and tried to decipher what she saw there, whether it was fear or sorrow or rage. Maybe it was all three of them.

"You gonna talk to me?" the man asked.

"Don't know what there is to say," Liv answered coolly.

He didn't like that; he stepped away from the table, towards her, but she gave her head a little shake and he froze, heard her silent command and obeyed it at once, cowed by the fierce heartbreak of her, and wasn't that strange, Amanda thought, wasn't that fucking weird, that he should listen to her now when so far tonight he'd been the one in control, pulling all the strings. The way they were with each other, just the few short words they'd spoken, made Amanda question her earlier assumptions. This wasn't just some perp Detective Benson had collared a lifetime ago, just another skel she'd gone ten rounds in interrogation with. This guy, whoever he was, he knew her, and she knew him, and they meant something to one another, and that didn't make any fucking sense, because why would a guy Liv knew - a guy who still called her Olivia, when nobody else did these days - be in that alley with blood on his hands? Olivia, he'd called her, and it was that more than anything else, that shook Amanda now. Olivia was a relic from another time. A memory. A memory this man carried in his heart, a ghost Amanda had never met.

"That's bullshit," he said with some heat. "You really don't have anything to say to me or you just don't want them to hear it?" he added, glancing towards the mirror, like he could see Kat and Amanda standing on the other side of it, and Amanda knew he couldn't, she knew that, but she almost took a step back, just the same, wanting to withdraw from the fear he instilled in her.

"I don't give a shit what they hear," Liv said. "I know my people. I trust my people. They've got my back."

That made Amanda feel kinda proud, knowing that Liv trusted her. She wanted to be worthy of that trust.

"So say it, then," he said. " 'Cause I know you, Liv, I know you got shit to say."

Yeah, Liv, Amanda thought. Say it.

"You want me to tell you how much it hurt?" Liv snapped at him, pressing herself up off the glass, standing straight and crossing her arms over her chest. Until now she had been still, so still, but she was vibrating with rage, and the words came flying out of her mouth, grief and anger let loose in a torrent of vitriol. "You want me to tell you what you did to me?" she hissed, and Amanda felt a chill run down her spine. What he did to her? What had he done to her? Liv had endured so much hurt, in her life, and now here she stood, confessing to yet more of it, and Jesus, Amanda thought, how much could one woman take?

"You want me to tell you how much I fucking hated you for it?" Liv continued breathlessly. "You want me to tell you how you made me feel like I was fucking worthless? You had your beautiful wife and your perfect kids and when you walked out on me I had nothing and it broke me. That what you want to hear?"

On the other side of the glass Amanda stood very still, holding her breath.

Liv had always been a painfully private person. Didn't talk about who she was seeing, if she was seeing anybody, until she absolutely had to; no one had known she was fucking Cassidy until Nick found her at the man's apartment, and no one had known she was fucking Tucker until his cousin got himself embroiled in a sex trafficking scheme. Once the cat was out of the bag Liv opened up, a little, maybe because she knew there was no point in hiding it any more, but if she'd kept those relationships secret, what other secrets had she been keeping? Had she been involved with a married man? A married man with kids, one who'd chosen his family over his mistress and shattered her in the process? Amanda didn't want to believe it, didn't want to believe that Liv could have been involved in something so unseemly, could have been treated so cruelly, but the evidence was staring her in the face, because this guy was right here, his eyes focused on Liv beseechingly, and Liv had just said it herself.

"No," he said hoarsely. "Yes. I don't know."

"What's the point?" Liv ran her fingers through her hair, looked away from him. "Don't know what good it'll do, dragging up the past."

"I'm sorry," he said heavily. "Liv, I'm sorry."

She nodded, mostly just to let him know she'd heard him, Amanda thought. It didn't look like Liv was in a forgiving mood. They were quiet for a moment, watching each other, and then the man spoke, very quietly.

"Will you uncuff me?" he asked her. "My arms are killing me."

A part of Amanda's heart screamed out no; they still didn't know what this guy had been doing there, standing in that alley with blood on his hands, and she still didn't trust him, and he'd hurt Liv and Amanda didn't want to see him unfettered, didn't want those big hands, those powerful arms, free to rage war against a woman who deserved better than this hurt, this bullshit fucking devastation, but Liv didn't seem to agree. She went to him without protest, without hesitation, pulled a key out of her pocket and stepped up behind him. Easy, she did it so easy, like she knew how to be close to him, like it didn't bother her, touching him. Like she'd touched him so much the novelty of it had worn off, and maybe it had, if he'd been her lover, once. Her hands slid under the sleeves of his sweatshirt, fingertips brushing skin while she wrestled with the key, and when the cuffs came loose they both sighed, Liv and her man. She stepped away and he stretched his arms for a minute, slipped out of his still-damp sweatshirt and revealed the ropey muscles of his arms bare under his white t-shirt, the heavy black lines of a tattoo inked on his forearm, though he was too far away for Amanda to make out the shape of it.

"Thank you," he said.

"I didn't like seeing you like that," Liv said, very softly.

The man moved then, suddenly, quickly, slid one of his hands beneath her ponytail and let his palm settle on the nape of her neck and Amanda expected Liv to pull away, expected her to snap, to hit him, to tell him to keep his fucking hands off her, but she didn't. Instead she just went still, so very still, like his touch was the only thing keeping her tethered to the ground, and her eyes slid closed, maybe to hold back a sudden rush of tears, maybe to hide herself from the intensity of his gaze, maybe just so she could savor the warmth of him, for as long as she could.

Sometimes, Amanda knew, a girl wanted the wrong man. A man who hurt, even when he didn't mean to, a man who had bad news stamped across his forehead, a man any mother would warn her daughter about; sometimes there was something alluring about a brawler, especially for a woman like Liv, a woman like Amanda. Sometimes a heart just wanted someone strong enough to protect it. Sometimes anger felt like safety; sometimes heartbreak was the only place that felt like home. And Liv, standing there with his hand on her neck, his broad chest by her shoulder, his cheek hung low next to hers, she looked like she'd come home, and she looked like she wished more than anything that she was somewhere else.

"I made a mistake," he breathed. They were standing so close, Amanda knew that Liv would be able to feel the wash of those words across the tender skin of her cheek, burning into her.

"It's a little late-" Liv started to protest, started to pull away, but her man had his hooks in her, and he wasn't letting go. His fingers flexed at the nape of her neck, and Liv went still, again, held in thrall by his touch.

"The divorce went through a year ago," he said.

The shaky, unsteady breath Liv drew in then was so loud that Amanda heard it. Her own heart swooped in her chest; Liv had accused him of leaving her behind, leaving with his family, and now he was back in front of her, telling her that he'd left that family, and Liv was swaying there, beneath his touch, like she wanted him, like she hated that want, like she was powerless in the face of it. And Liv, Liv was never powerless. Liv was fearless, and strong, un-fucking-breakable; concussed and starved and drugged she'd still managed to beat William Lewis so bad he'd died three times in the fucking ambulance. Liv was a warrior, and nothing could shake her. Nothing, it seemed, but this man.

"I been overseas," he continued, his blue eyes boring into Liv's dark ones, begging her to hear him. "It took me a long time to work my way home. But I been trying, Liv. Jesus, I been trying."

Maybe he thought that would be a reassurance to her. Maybe he thought those were the magic words, that all he had to do was tell Liv that he'd finally left his wife and come home to her and please can I have a second chance and she'd fall into his arms. If that's what he thought, he was a fucking idiot.

Liv jerked out of his grip, seething, and turned her back on him, stalked away and left him standing forlorn and confused by the table. Put distance between him, and that was the Liv Amanda knew, the one who protected herself, the one who could see straight through bullshit, the one who would not be manipulated. When she reached the far corner of the room she spun on her heel, a tiger testing the limits of its enclosure, whirled back to face him and took a few more steps in his direction all but trembling with rage.

"That supposed to make me feel better?" she hissed. "You finally walked out on your family and came back to me and I'm supposed to what, be happy? You didn't come looking for me. You didn't call. You're only here by accident. Fuck you."

Good for you, Amanda thought. And then wait, what?

Only here by accident, Liv said. Like Liv didn't believe, not for one second, that this guy killed their vic. Like she knew it already, like she wasn't even gonna waste her breath asking him about it. But he was the only lead they had, and they should have been questioning him, and instead this interrogation had turned into a come apart, a reckoning between two shattered hearts that had nothing at all to do with their case, and this must have been the reason, Amanda realized, the reason Liv had told them to stay out of it, because in the moment Liv didn't give a shit about the case. That wasn't like her, not at all, and Amanda didn't know what the fuck she was supposed to do about it. Her Captain had ordered her to stay out of it, and for the sake of her friend's heart she would, but the clock was ticking on finding their killer, and whatever this was, it wasn't helping solve the case.

"I couldn't call," he said. "Liv, I couldn't."

"Why the fuck not?" she fired back. It was a damn good question Amanda thought, because really, how hard was it to pick up a phone?

He spread his hands helplessly, and Liv looked at him for a long moment, studying him, searching for answers in his face, and finding them, maybe. Like all she had to do was look, and read his thoughts, same as he'd read hers when she walked into the room, and it was an uncomfortable feeling, standing just outside the bubble of privacy they'd drawn around themselves, watching them speak in a language no one else could understand. What kind of bond, Amanda wondered, could run that deep? Just what had they meant to one another? Everything, maybe. Everything, because Liv was so raw with him, so exposed, in a way Amanda had never known her to be, because she looked at him, and without words knew what he was telling her, and Amanda saw the moment it clicked in Liv's mind because when Liv looked away from her man her shoulders slumped, and her voice wasn't half so angry when she spoke.

"For who?" she asked. His eyes had told her something, and she had heard it, but Amanda remained lost for the moment. Just for a moment, though, because then he spoke.

"OCCB," he answered.

Oh, shit.

"Wait, what?" Kat said, and Amanda nearly jumped out of her skin, because she'd almost forgotten that she wasn't alone in the Captain's office.

"He's UC," Amanda said, not even looking at her. "That's why he wouldn't talk. He didn't want to break his cover. That's why he waited for SVU, he needed to talk to somebody he trusted."

And the person he trusted, the person he'd chosen, was Liv. This guy, he was a cop, someone Liv knew from the old days, and he'd been UC and that was why he hadn't called and shit, Amanda thought, that excuse might just be enough for Liv to forgive him. Somehow Amanda didn't want her to, though.

"How long?" Liv asked him, and her voice was quiet, and a little less hard, but it wasn't soft, not yet. She was still pissed; Amanda could recognize Liv's anger in the set of her shoulders, the tension in her legs, but she was giving ground to him, inch by inch.

"About six months."

"You've been in the city for half a year-"

"I had to do this first, Liv," he said sharply, cutting through her righteous indignation. "I had to get clean. I had to...I had to make sure that when the time came I could be the man you needed me to be."

He sounded like he meant it. His voice was low, and earnest, and his blue eyes were watching her, beseeching. For the moment he wasn't moving, was leaning back against the table, comfortable, like he'd spent enough time in interrogation rooms to not be intimidated by this one, by the bars on the window, by the mirror on the back wall, by the chairs that rocked just a little when a person sat in them and the cement floor that threatened to crack a skull that hit it too hard. But he was a cop; of course he treated that room like he owned it. He'd probably spent his fair share of time standing right where Liv was now, staring down a suspect.

His words were gentle, coaxing, but Liv wasn't having it; she barked a short, humorless laugh.

"What the fuck makes you think I need you at all?" she spat. "You been gone a long time. Things change."

Good for you, Amanda thought.

"Some things don't change, Olivia," he said, and he was looking at her like he believed it, like he knew she did, too, like he knew she was just fighting him for the sake of it, like he believed he could get through to her. "Ten years, and I can't get you out of my head. Ten years, and yours is the voice I hear showing me the way when I don't know what to do. Jesus, I still dream about you sometimes."

Ten years.

Someone had left Liv, ten years before. Someone had left her, someone who'd shattered her with the loss of him. Someone who'd made her angry, and sad. Someone whose name Amanda knew.

"Oh, my god, it's Stabler," Amanda breathed, shell-shocked.

It can't be him, she thought, staring at the man through the glass. It just can't be.

The man who'd left Liv ten years before was named Elliot Stabler. Amanda had never seen so much as a photograph of the man, had no idea what he looked like, and no one had talked about him much. The sum total of Amanda's knowledge of the man was this: that he had worked with Liv for a long time, that Liv had trusted him, and that he had left. That was all she knew. She suspected much more, suspected, based on how standoffish Liv had been in the beginning, how resistant she had been to working with a new partner, how Cragen had to threaten to kick her out of the squad unless she settled down and played nicely with the other children, how fucking sad she'd been, based on all that, Amanda had suspected that Liv had cared for her partner, maybe more than she was supposed to. Maybe more than was allowed. Amanda had suspected that the shooting wasn't the only thing that had sent Stabler packing.

But this guy, this guy who had been married when he knew her, this guy who looked so fucking hard, this guy who was all heavy muscles and brooding intensity, this guy with his fucking tattoo and the cross around his neck, he didn't look like the kinda man Liv would have chosen. The kinda man who could be somebody she needed. The kinda man she'd risk everything for. But then Amanda thought about the other men Liv had been with, and found herself confronted by the reality that maybe she didn't know what Liv really wanted, after all. Maybe she didn't really know what Liv was like, at home, behind closed doors. Cassidy and Tucker, they hadn't exactly been clean cut and polite. They were both muscled up assholes who were always looking for a fight. They were both, Amanda thought, a little like him.

And she didn't want to think about that too much. About Liv, shacking up with men who reminded her of someone else. Didn't want to think about how much it must have shaken Liv now, to hear him say he'd dreamed of her. Didn't want to wonder if Liv had dreamed of him, too. It hurt too much, the thought of Liv spending a decade pining for a man who'd left her, the thought of how wrecked she must be, looking at him now.

"Wait, what?" Kat said, turning to Amanda with confusion in her gaze. "You know this guy?"

Amanda shook her head, still staring at the two people on the other side of the glass, seeing them in a new light, now.

"I never met him," she said. "He was the Captain's partner for…for a long time."

"Partner like on the job? Or like-"

"On the job. She worked with him longer than anybody else. The two of them…Fin used to say it was like they were married."

"Jesus," Kat said, looking back through the glass. "And he's been gone ten years?"

"And now he's back," Amanda said, softly. The prodigal son returns. Fought his way back through time and space and god only knew whatever else, standing in front of Liv now, offering her all of himself. It must have felt like a dream to Liv, Amanda thought. A dream, or a nightmare.

"Look me in the eye and tell me you forgot about me," Stabler said then.

Liv didn't look him in the eye; she dropped her head, and stared at her shoes, and with the way Liv was standing with her back to the glass like it was now, Amanda could clearly see Liv's hand settle on her gun, could see her thumb running in gentle circles around the butt of it. When Amanda first joined SVU she'd noticed right away that Liv had fastened some sort of badge to the butt of her gun, some golden, shiny thing that Amanda never got to look at too closely. Liv used to run her thumb over it, the way she was now. Absently, in moments of uncertainty. Like it comforted her to touch it. Like she needed it. And she'd kept it there, holstered on her hip, until Lewis took the gun from her hands and bashed her face with it and the gun and the badge both had disappeared into evidence, never to be seen again. Christ, that felt like such a long time ago, but Amanda remembered it, and she got the feeling Liv did, too. Got the feeling that whatever that badge had been, it was something to do with him. Was a piece of him that Liv had carried with her until it was caked in her own blood and taken from her. Got the feeling Liv wanted it back now, wanted the comfort of it, the way she reflexively reached for it, even when it had been gone for years.

He seemed satisfied by her silence. Like he could hear all the words she wasn't saying, like all he had to do was look at her, and see the truth of her for himself.

"I had this whole plan, you know," he said. "Made a deal with the brass. I get one op, I sit down with the shrink, and if it all goes smooth I'm back in the fold. I was gonna do my time and get this job on the books and get my fucking badge back, and then I was gonna call you. Actually, I wasn't gonna call you," he sighed, ran his hand over his head. "I had this idea...I was gonna walk in here one morning with a cup of coffee for you. And you were gonna be pissed but you'd take it and we'd sit somewhere quiet and I'd tell you everything. That's what I wanted."

Liv swayed on her feet, just a little. Swung towards him, like she wanted to believe him, like she wanted to sink herself inside the fantasy he'd created for them, and then she swung back, like she remembered where she was, and what he'd done. It was a sweet thought, a gentle one, but he had not given it to her, had not come back to her of his own accord, and it seemed cruel, to Amanda's mind, to offer Liv a glimpse of a dream that would not ever come to pass.

"And instead you get picked up with blood on your hands and my guys think you butchered some girl." Maybe Liv thought it was cruel, too.

"I didn't."

"I know that." This time her voice was soft. This time, she caved. She was hurt, sad and angry and scared, but she was not doubting him, not when it came to the crime. She was looking at a man she hadn't seen in a decade, and she was certain he wasn't a killer. That took trust, Amanda thought. Would she believe an old friend, after that much time, if she'd found him with bloody hands, standing over a dead girl, acting the way Stabler had done?

You'd believe Nick, she thought.

"Some things don't change," Liv added. "I know you. I know you wouldn't do this."

"And your guys are gonna know it tomorrow morning when IAFIS is back up and running and they find out who I am."

That was why he hadn't believed Amanda when she said she'd run his prints. He knew because he was a cop, and every cop in the city knew the system was down for maintenance.

"I touched her to see if she was alive. And she wasn't, so I called it in on my burner and then I waited for you. I could have just left, Liv. It was raining. You weren't gonna find anything to tie me to the scene. You wouldn't have been able to trace the 911 call back to me. But I saw that girl and I knew...I knew they'd call you. I put my whole operation in jeopardy and I risked losing this job before I ever even really had it just to see you. Does that count for anything?"

"A phone call would have counted for a whole lot more."

"You always were hard to please." He said it with a smile, though. Said it like he liked it that way. Like he knew that Liv was complicated, that she didn't give her trust easy, that she didn't let anybody in, and he wanted to try anyway, like he liked the challenge of it. Like he thought she was worth it.

"And you always were a smug son of a bitch," she told him, a little ruefully. "You do all this just to see me? What made you think I wanted to see you? What made you think I don't have somebody else? Somebody better than you?"

She didn't, and Amanda knew it. It had been years since Liv had been with anybody serious, had ever dated anyone with any sort of intent. Liv was getting older, and she was tired, and between the work and her son she didn't have the time or the energy or the inclination to chase after anybody. At least, that's what she'd told Amanda. I'm just tired of it, she'd said. That was a conversation Amanda was never gonna forget, because she was tired, too. Not tired of sex - she liked sex, thank you very much - but tired of sex with the wrong person. Tired of trying, and finding out time and time again that whoever she was with wasn't someone she could come home to. Tired of looking for something she was never gonna find.

"I know you might have somebody," he said slowly, like he knew he'd just wandered into a minefield, like he was trying hard to avoid the trap she'd laid for him. "But whoever he is, Olivia, he's not better than me. Not for you. It was always you and me. It always will be."

God, what a fucking thing to say to her, Amanda thought. To say to Liv, who'd never had anybody at all. To Liv, who had been left behind, time and time again; Liv, who had been left behind by this man. This man who said it was always you and me, when he'd chosen someone else, his wife, his family, over her. How could he stand in front of her with a mouth full of always, when he'd walked away? And how could Liv let him, let him pour such outrageous falsehoods out at her feet, and not claw his eyes right then? Why wasn't she striking him, cursing him, leaving him? Why was she putting herself through this? If it had been Amanda, some guy who'd wrecked her trying to rewrite the past, she would have turned her back on him. But then, Amanda couldn't think of anybody who mattered to her the way Stabler seemed to matter to Liv, nobody but Sonny, who'd never hurt her.

"Always?" Liv asked quietly. The word was heavy, thick with meaning. She was thinking of something specific, Amanda realized. There was a memory, shuffling through Liv's mind, a moment in time when she'd thought he'd choose her and he'd chosen something else. Maybe the day he left, she thought; maybe Liv was just thinking about the moment he'd walked out on her, when he decided that she wasn't worth staying for.

"When I left…I thought…Eli was just a baby and I'd killed that girl and I could see it all falling apart. Could see myself spending another five, ten years dragging you down with me. You weren't gonna go anywhere, not while I was around. And I didn't want you dirty. You...you deserved to be clean, and I just wreck everything I touch. I thought you deserved better. I thought I was giving you a chance. And yeah, I thought I was giving me one, too."

"You want me to thank you for walking out on me?" she snapped, heartbreak in her voice.

"You made it to Captain," he pointed out, angry now. "What else have you done, while I was gone? I wanna know. I wanna find out. I wanna believe you had a chance to make something more of yourself than I was gonna let you be."

Was he really that selfless? she wondered now. Had he really walked away from someone he cared for, someone he loved, maybe, somebody he wanted, just to give her a chance at happiness? Did he really think so little of himself, and if he did, why the fuck had he come back, and what the fuck must Liv be thinking about it now? Shit like this, it compelled her. Amanda had studied psychology in school, always enjoyed getting into the perps' heads, liked watching the human drama playing out on shitty reality tv shows because there was a special kind of magic going on in people's heads, and she liked to know what made them tick. Before now, she thought she understood what was going on in Liv's head - most of the time - understood her need to do penance and to wage war against the grief and the pain that had so colored her own life, but this, Amanda didn't quite understand this. It looked, she thought, like love, but Jesus, could it be? Could Liv have spent all this time in love with a man who was never hers to claim, and could she claim it now, if he was offering? Could Liv believe what sounded like lies to Amanda? Or could Liv hear something else in them, a truth she trusted because she had to, because if she didn't the world would go dark and bleak and hopeless in a way she'd never recover from?

"You believe what you want," Liv said. "Yeah, some good things happened. But I've been alone, Elliot. Everybody keeps fucking leaving and you want me to thank you for leaving along with them? Yeah, I've done well. But there are some things…" her voice trailed off and Amanda was certain, dead certain, Liv was thinking about Lewis. "There are some things you missed I don't think I'm ever gonna forgive you for."

She'd used his name, finally, and confirmed Amanda's suspicions. For the very first time, Amanda was looking at Elliot Stabler. Liv's partner. The one she'd trusted, mourned for. The one who hadn't been there, when she was taken. Nick had been there, and Nick had been a good partner, but maybe Liv believed that if Elliot had been with her instead she never would have been hurt and holy shit, Amanda thought, that was a terrible burden to carry, a what if so heavy it would have broken her in two, if she was standing in Liv's shoes. For her part Amanda didn't want to believe it, didn't want to place the blame on Nick - or on herself - for not checking up on Liv like maybe they should have. She didn't want to believe that anyone else would have reacted any differently, under the circumstances, because if she believed it she'd have to accept the blame for it, and she couldn't. Couldn't. But if Stabler had been there...would he have gone to Liv sooner than Amanda did? Would he have killed Lewis himself? Would Liv have been spared all that pain, and if she had been, who would she be now? It was a hypothetical too grave for Amanda too consider, and she tried like hell to put it out of her head.

"Maybe I deserve that," he said. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I can't make up for it. But will you…will you let me try?"

"You can't just…" Liv waved her hand at him and then pulled it back, ran her thumb across her brow the way she did when she was agitated and trying to hold herself together. "You can't just come back here and offer me everything I ever wanted and pretend like the last ten years never happened. You can't do this to me."

"Should we stop it?" Kat asked, very quietly, and Amanda turned to look at her, saw the concern in her eyes, the sorrow there. God knew they'd heard enough; this was too much. It was too much vulnerability, too much grief, and it was hard to stand there, watching the Captain in pain, and do nothing to stop it.

"She said no," Amanda answered miserably. "Whatever this is...we gotta let 'em work through it. And Kat, it goes without saying but-"

"I won't say anything about it," Kat promised. "But it's hard to watch."

Amanda nodded, and turned away.

"Liv-" Stabler was saying, but she wasn't having it.

"I can't be your goddamn consolation prize-"

"Olivia," he called her name, more forcefully this time, stepping at last away from the table and approaching her. As he drew near the glass Amanda studied his face, the desperation there, the frustration growing, wondered if he meant to reach out for Liv again and if Liv would hit him for it.

"You walk out on Kathy and you show up here like I'm gonna be happy about that, like that's gonna make everything all right-"

"Kathy walked out on me," he snapped, and that shut Liv up quick. "Both fucking times. I know you wouldn't want me to abandon my family and I didn't. I stuck it out. Yeah, I did it for her, and I did it for the kids. But I did it for you, too, Liv. I did it because I wanted to be the man you thought I was."

And what man was that? Amanda wondered. They'd have to call his boss, since he'd been found at the scene, have to check his story, and she resolved then to pull his jacket, or at least try to. All the things Liv had never said, all the secrets she'd kept, all the outbursts and all the quiet, simmering anger and all the times she'd swiped her thumb over the butt of her gun; Amanda wanted to understand it, and to do that she'd have to understand him. She wanted to take a walk through his past, wondered if she'd find answers there. Answers like why his wife left, and why he'd gone back, and what the fuck that all had to Liv.

"I did it because I wanted to make you proud. But it didn't work. I couldn't make Kathy happy, no matter how fucking hard I tried, and when she walked out I decided I wasn't gonna make the same mistake twice."

"The fuck are you-"

"We had a chance, Liv, and I wasted it because I didn't want to lose what we had at work. Because I wasn't sure you'd even want me, anyway. We got another chance now and I'm not wasting it, this time. I came back. I'm standing right here. I'm not going back."

"You're a son of a bitch," Liv said faintly, but there was no real heat to it. Maybe he was getting through to her.

"I know," he said, and he smiled just a little, like he was relieved to hear her say it. Like he knew something was shifting in her heart, and even Amanda could see that it was. Everything I ever wanted, Liv had said. What did a woman like Liv, brave and fierce and independent, long for? Maybe, Amanda thought, maybe for the things she'd never had. For love, and home, and family, for the man who came and stayed.

"Listen," he continued. "I know I got a lot of lost time to make up for. I don't expect…I know this shit is gonna take time. Let me buy you a coffee. Talk to me, Liv. Tell me what I missed. Let me come home."

Home, like home meant her, her heart, her trust. Like the only place he was gonna find peace was there with her, like he believed the same was true for her. And shit, maybe it was. Maybe it was, because Liv relaxed, just a little, dropped her arms and looked up into his face.

"I want to," she said. "I want you home. But I can't risk you walking out on me again. You do that again-"

He reached for her, then, slid his hand once more beneath her ponytail, and she stopped speaking, swayed towards him, like all she wanted was more, more of his touch, more of his promises, promises Amanda didn't trust, not for one second.

"I know where I belong," he said. "I've known it all along, and I'm not fighting it any more. You tell me what you want. Tell me, and let me give it to you."

Nothing, in Amanda's experience, was ever that easy. The things people wanted, needed most, weren't things you could buy at the store. Trust, and love, and respect, and hope, and healing, those things could not be purchased with money, could not be granted easily. They took time, and effort, and grace, and some of them only existed for a heartbeat. And Stabler, he'd left her once, and taken everything with him when he did, and it would be hard, Amanda thought, for Liv to let him back in. Liv didn't let anybody in, not really, how could he -

"I want you here," Liv said on a shuddering breath, unsteady, like she was about to cry. "I want you with me."

Maybe Amanda was wrong.

"I'm right here, Olivia. I'm right here."

And it seemed like that was all Liv needed to hear. Like those were the words she'd been waiting for, for ten long years. Like all the anger, all the grief, all the hurt she felt was soothed by that one reassurance. Like all she needed to know was that he was here, and she broke, then. Leaned towards him, and he pulled her in, let one arm snake around her back while the hand at the nape of her neck rose up to cradle the back of her skull, and then Liv was falling into him, wrapping her arms around him. They were both shaking; Amanda could see it, with the two of them still standing so close to the glass. She could see Liv bury her face in Stabler's thick neck, and she could see Stabler's hand clutching at her, holding her tight, so tight, like he meant to never let her go. Ten years, and so much had changed, and Amanda didn't understand how, how they could think, even for a moment, that they still knew one another, still belonged in one another's lives, but they did. Believed it, and proved it, somehow, by the way they clung to one another now. Stabler had gone a decade without speaking to her, and he'd upended his whole life just for the chance to hold her. Liv had spent a decade angry with him, and she'd thrown away that anger and her pride just for the chance to let him. It was cataclysmic, watching it unfold in front of her eyes, seeing a side to Liv, a piece of her heart Amanda had never even known existed, healed in real time.

"Holy shit," Kat said, faintly, watching the pair of them holding on to one another. Amanda couldn't have said it better herself.

"We gotta call OCCB," she said. There was still a case to solve; the drama unfolding in the interrogation room had pushed thoughts of their vic from her mind, but they came back, now. Whatever Liv was going through, however much the very pillars of the earth had shifted in that room, they still had a job to do, and Stabler's word that he had not committed this crime - and Liv's unwavering trust in him - wouldn't be sufficient to clear him. But Liv would fight for him, Amanda knew that already, didn't doubt it for a second, because she remembered when Cassidy had been in the crosshairs, when all evidence seemed to point to his being a murderer and Liv had risked everything to give him shelter, to clear his name. If she'd been willing to go that far for Cassidy, Jesus what would she be willing to do for Stabler?

"Unis are pulling security footage from the bodega across the street," Kat reminded her, still watching Liv and Stabler. They hadn't moved an inch; Liv's shoulders were shaking like she was crying, and Stabler was still wrapped tight, so tight, around her. "Maybe that'll clear him."

Amanda really, really hoped it would. There had been enough turmoil this night to last a lifetime, she thought, and Liv deserved better, she thought, than spending the next few days desperately trying to clear his name. She deserved an easy resolution here, and a chance for happiness. How Stabler was ever gonna give her that happiness Amanda didn't know; she didn't trust his promises. The man had hurt Liv so deeply, and he could say whatever the fuck he wanted; words didn't count for much. Actions did, and the only way for him to prove that he was here to stay was for him to fucking do it.

Finally, finally Stabler and Liv broke apart from one another, and he reached up gently, brushed back a lock of hair that had slipped loose from her ponytail, his expression warm, and tender as he looked at her.

"It's good to be home," he said, and then he leaned in, slowly, his eyes searching her face, and holy shit, is he really gonna do this? Amanda thought, but he was, he was gonna do this, because Liv lifted her chin and when he kissed her she fucking let him. Let his lips brush hers, once, the most tentative of touches, a brief opening salvo in the war he meant to fight, the war to win her heart, and when he pulled back he was smiling, and Amanda couldn't see Liv's face but as much as she mistrusted Stabler a small piece of her heart couldn't help but hope that Liv was smiling, too. She deserved that much, a chance to smile, a reason to hope.

"You got a lot of work to do, El," Liv told him, and his smile faded away, his expression growing serious.

"I know," he said. "But I'm gonna do it. Whatever it takes, Liv."

"Good." she reached for him, let her fingertips trail gently over his jaw, and then she sighed, and stepped back, her hand falling gently from his face.

"Tell me about this girl," she said, and Stabler grinned.

It must have felt like old times to him, talking about a case with Liv. It must have felt familiar, standing with her in that room, just like the old days. It must have felt right, to him. Amanda wouldn't know. She'd never seen the pair of them together, never seen what they were like on the job, how they moved together. But she'd seen this, seen them moving in step with one another, seen them reacting off a look, a glance, a drop of a shoulder, seen them find their way back to one another, and she was about to see a hell of a lot more. Whatever came next, for Liv's sake she hoped it would be good. For Liv's sake, she hoped that he would stay.

And he did.