A/N: Thank you, thank you, thank you! I've received numerous messages and kind words and I couldn't be more grateful to have such wonderful people reading this story still. It's still so hard to believe that I'm working on chapter 55, when I thought that I would write 10, or maybe 12 at most! I apologize for not being able to update very often, but I am trying my best to develop this story to where I want it to be. Thanks again for liking, favoriting, and commenting. You guys are awesome! Enjoy!

Chapter 55

Repair

A couple hours had passed since Olivia's visit, but Alex couldn't stop thinking about the detective—how she looked, how her clothes hugged the curves of her body just right, how her lips curved into that small, unassuming smile. The blonde sat back in her leather chair and crossed her arms over her chest, replaying the visit over and over. Alex knew that their relationship wasn't anywhere near where she wanted it to be, but she was hopeful. And, that's more than she could have said before.

The fact that Alex's arousal had peaked when Olivia walked into the room was a whole different issue for the attorney. Alex was shocked to see Olivia to say the least, but she was even more surprised when she saw how sexy the detective looked. Alex could admit to herself that the mere sight of Olivia had made her wet: after all, she was a mature woman with a healthy sexual appetite. However, the fact that she felt like she needed to touch herself after Olivia left further solidified Alex's theory that her aforementioned 'healthy sexual appetite' was definitely influenced by, and possibly addicted to Olivia Benson.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Upstairs, Elliot's phone buzzed on his desk. He had been working solo for the past few days, and as much as he hated being without Olivia by his side, he hated doing paperwork alone even more. Thinking he had earned a well-deserved break, he picked up his phone and noticed an unread message from Olivia, including himself and Fin.

Who wants to help me at Serena's tonight?!

Elliot smiled half-heartedly as he looked towards Fin's desk. He noticed that the detective was up out of his chair, and already heading Elliot's way.

"She never quits, man." Fin chuckled and displayed his phone in a 'did-you-see-this' sort of fashion. Elliot nodded, conceding to Fin's point as he unlocked his phone and began responding.

Liv, you just had surgery.

They sat and waited for a few moments, Elliot at his desk, while Fin looked around and took a seat at Olivia's. Fin admired the picture of Olivia and her mother that was displayed next to her computer, and the aged piece of paper that had been framed next to the picture for years. It was a quote by Einstein, and was written in Olivia's handwriting. It had been on her desk as long as Fin could remember, and he could almost recite it word-for-word from memory. "In matters of truth and justice, there's no difference between—" his eyes glazed over the rest of the words, reading along about Einstein's view of the treatment of people. Fin had always thought that this quote exemplified Olivia, and he secretly loved that she had it as a daily reminder on her desk. Elliott peered over at Fin, noting how weird it was not to see Olivia across from him. As they both sat quietly, Olivia replied to the text message thread.

I'm fine! I just got this new cast, and I'm good, really. Plus, it's not much work, just painting and moving some stuff. El, bring Dickie too.

Fin and Elliot looked at each other, and with one look, knew that it would just be easier to give in and meet Olivia at the restaurant that night. The relationship between Fin and Elliot was an interesting one: they had almost nothing in common outside of their unit, especially politically, but being in SVU bonded all of the detectives together—no matter their differences. With just a few looks, they had read Olivia's text, voiced the same concern that had for her working that night, and decided what they were going to do. Fin got up, shook Elliot's hand, and returned to his desk, finishing up his work for the day while Elliot texted Dickie and told him to be ready to leave the house by 6:30.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Olivia made it back to Fin's apartment by 4:30 and she knew she needed to rest. Overall, she felt better and was optimistic about her recovery, but her fatigue betrayed her—just by the throbbing of her hand, she could tell that she'd been busy all day.

She lay down on the couch and set an alarm on her phone for 6:30, so she could get to Serena's in time to meet the guys. Olivia knew that finishing the restaurant probably shouldn't be the first priority on her list, but she figured there was no better time to finish off a few things than now; between she and Elliot, the work was almost finished. The drywall and ceilings had been smoothed and finished, the new flooring had been stained and covered, and the windows had been replaced. Only the finishes were left—painting, décor, and seating, and Olivia thought that they could get most of it done this week.

She lay back on the couch and looked through the clear cast on her left hand, noting the black stitches holding her skin together along the length of her pinky. The swelling had gone down around her incision almost completely and she was happy to be seeing her hand through the cast, knowing that she was more than halfway healed—she just needed to wait for the stitches to dissolve. Olivia was happy when Dr. Foster took Warner's suggestion and put her in the waterproof cast—Olivia was eager to start working out again, and swimming would probably be easiest.

She turned over on the couch, quieting these thoughts as she closed her eyes. After two deep, relaxing breaths she heard her phone buzz and debated on whether or not to look at it. She wasn't working, so technically she wasn't responsible for having to answer any texts, but her judgment got the better of her and she rolled back over, and reached for her phone on the table.

Thanks for coming by. It was great to see you.

It was Alex, and without Olivia even noticing, a small smile crept across her face. She rolled back towards the back of the couch, cradling her phone near her chest as she considered what to send back.

It was good to see you, too. Thanks for taking the time out and letting me come in.

It was a weird feeling: she was almost too excited to sleep now, but she didn't feel 'excited,' per se. That was just the closest word she could ascribe to the feeling. Almost immediately, she wasn't tired, and couldn't convince herself to even close her eyes again. Before she attempted to relax and calm the anticipation that this text thread had started, her phone buzzed again.

It was no problem. I'm always happy to see you. Although I was surprised you cut your hair.

Olivia immediately responded.

Do you like it?

There was some apprehension in her body. She felt nervous all of the sudden, and thought it was strange—it was just Alex. But, then again, it was Alex: the woman who still, after everything, held her heart in her hands. Olivia knew it was going to be hard to forget what happened during the press conference, but she had to make the effort to try, and that's just what she was doing. Her conversation with Huang, however brief and unrevealing it may have been, caused her to rethink how she'd been acting and what she had been feeling, and Olivia knew that it was Alex—no matter how much she wanted to deny it. It would just take some time.

I love it! You know I've always liked your short hair. That's how your hair was when I met you.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Alex sat in her office, somewhat unmotivated to finish the paperwork that she needed to turn into Casey. Currently, she was more interested in the tone of this text message conversation with Olivia. Earlier that day when Olivia visited, she seemed more open, and less angry with the attorney. It felt different—like there was some new hope inside Olivia: hopefully a hope and promise she would carry over into trying to rebuild their relationship.

Alex's phone buzzed, and she was a little nervous to read the text that Olivia had sent. She thought the last text she sent may have struck some chords, but she sent it nonetheless. Hesitant, Alex picked up her phone and read a quick succession of two messages Olivia had sent back to back.

Yeah. It was, wasn't it?

Listen Alex, I just want you to know that I'm sorry. And…I'm trying. I really am. I want to talk to you face to face—maybe tonight?

Alex almost leapt out of her chair when she read what Olivia had sent. She was elated that Olivia wanted to see her, but she quickly became nervous when she thought about what the detective had to say. She understood that Olivia was having a hard time, but she couldn't help but think that maybe there was something more that she wanted to talk about. Alex quickly brushed that out of her mind and told herself to be thankful that Olivia was taking this step.

You don't have to apologize. I understand how you feel, and I should be the one telling you that I'm sorry. I would love to see you tonight.

Alex thought that it couldn't hurt to apologize again—after all, she knew this whole debacle was basically her fault. Immediately, Olivia replied.

I'll be at Serena's with Fin, Elliot, and maybe Dickie. I could use your eye for a couple things, if you don't mind…?

Sure. What time?

While waiting for a response, Alex silently wondered if she should ask Olivia if she thought she should be working at the restaurant tonight, after just having surgery: she decided against it.

How about 8:30?

Sounds good. See you then.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Fin was opening the long row of paint cans when Elliot walked in with his son, Dickie. Fin hadn't seen him in years and the three of them started talking while Olivia opened the closet and took out all of the supplies they would need. Dickie walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her neck, hugging her tightly. Olivia immediately knew who it was and closed her eyes, savoring the moment between them as she placed her uninjured right hand over his crossed arms.

"I'm glad you're hands ok, aunt Liv." His sincerity was so heartwarming. With just the sound and innocence in his voice, Olivia was transported back to ten years ago when this sweet, 8 year old boy, brought her a bouquet of lilies after her mother passed away. She brought herself back to the present and turned around to hug him fully.

"And, I'm glad you're here!" They both smiled and embraced, but Dickie didn't let go. Olivia was taken aback for a second and waited for what he was readying himself to say.

Dickie lowered his voice and looked around, making sure no one else would hear. "Um, Aunt Liv, I just want to say that I'm sorry that shit at the press conference happened. My dad told me the other day after he picked me up from practice." Olivia smiled sincerely at him, thinking he was finished—but he continued. "You know I'm always on your side and everything, but once I got mad at my dad for sort of doing something like that towards me…but he was just trying to protect me." Olivia looked at this young man who she had known since he was three years old, and felt a deep love for him: he was growing up, and he was just trying to help.

Olivia took him into a full hug, wrapping her arms around him, resting one hand on the back of his head and another between his shoulder blades.

"Thank you." She took a breath and whispered to herself, "Oh, sweet boy."

They broke apart and Dickie smiled at Olivia before he bent down and picked up the painting supplies, carrying them over to his father and Fin who were chatting in the large, empty dining room. Moments later, Olivia walked in to join them and give directions.

"Ok, so," she took a deep breath before beginning, "that gray color is going to be all throughout this room, and the darker gray is going to be on this wall where the kitchen windows are only." She pointed towards the kitchen and made sure everyone was following. "The red-ish color is going in the front, along with that darker gray, so I can do that. I think if you three work on this room we can have the whole place painted tonight."

The three of them were used to getting direction from Olivia, and after Dickie, who was stationed on the dark gray paint, rolled a few stripes on the wall, Olivia left to go to the foyer. She secretly wanted to be away from them because she knew that all three of them would make a big fuss out of her being on a ladder, but she knew she was fine.

Olivia decided to roll the walls first, and then tackle the trim with her dominant, uninjured right hand. The next hour passed with little to no conversation, and Olivia was getting a little tired of the silence. She had almost finished rolling the whole foyer so she put her roller down and headed toward the sound system that lay on the floor, away from any and all paint splatters. Quickly the room was filled with the sounds of John Legend, one of Olivia and Fin's favorites. Olivia noted the progress of her three comrades in the main dining area. "Looks good guys. If you need water or anything, you know where it is." They were about 2/3 of the way done, and she thought that was exactly enough time for her to get up on the ladder and do at least two walls worth of trim.

She quietly positioned the ladder on the wall furthest away from the front door and climbed up, beginning to understand exactly how high these ceilings were. She stabilized herself and took the first dip of her brush into the can, applying the paint to the wall with the steadiest hand. Minutes ticked by and the only interruption came when Elliot paused the stereo to speak to Kathy on the phone. By the time Olivia had realized what the interruption was, it was already too late: as she turned around and looked over the back of the ladder, the front door to the restaurant was opening. Her only hope now was to remain still and hope Alex passed right by her.

Of course, she didn't.

"Olivia what d—?!" The blonde stopped abruptly when Olivia started descending the steps of the ladder. Alex couldn't decide if she stopped speaking because Olivia was getting down, or because of the sight of her. Her light blue one-size-too-big jeans hung from her hips and rested gently above the light brown work boots that preceded her body down the rungs. Her white t-shirt was stained with all sorts of paint colors, and as she arrived at ground level, Alex's heart ached as she looked at Olivia's face.

"Did you ever see something so cute that your heart actually hurt?" Shit. She just said that out loud. Olivia blushed a little and tucked her head down, avoiding the attorney's gaze. It was true, Alex thought, that her view of Olivia right now was probably the cutest thing she had ever seen. The detective was wearing her glasses and had a green bandana folded and tied around her head, replacing her normal Nike headband she wore when she worked out. Where her glasses met her face, there was a streak of dried paint—probably from where the detective had itched her face or wicked sweat off of it. All of those elements together put Alex in a trance that was only broken by Olivia's answer to the question that Alex had forgotten she asked.

"Yeah. Yeah I have." They made eye contact for a moment, and then Olivia noticed a bag Alex held in her hand. "What's that?"

"Well," Alex made sure to clack her heels a little bit louder than normal when she walked into the dining room. Her plan worked: Elliot, Fin, and Dickie all turned towards her and immediately recognized the Chinese take out bag in her hand. "I thought you guys would be hungry." She displayed the bag in the air as everyone smiled, cleaning off their paint rollers and closing up cans.

"Aunt Liv I think we're done. How many coats of this do you want on here?" Olivia looked around the room and noted their progress: they were definitely done, and she didn't think they needed to put any more coats of paint on the walls.

"It looks great, guys. Thank you so much. I think just what you did tonight will work. It already looks much better than I imagined." They all exchanged proud grins, knowing they were helping their friend, and that they probably had to do less work than they had originally anticipated. "If you can two can clear out this area right here," Olivia motioned to Fin and Dickie, "Elliot and I can move a table and some chairs in."

Elliot approached Olivia and she gave him an unexpected side-hug. "You know, that kid of yours…" she paused and Elliot looked over at her as they walked towards the new furniture, "someone's raising him right." Elliot smiled shyly at Olivia—even though he didn't know what had been said, he knew how his son felt about Olivia and knew that it was probably something very sincere. "So, make sure to tell Kathy thanks." With this jab, they both laughed wholeheartedly and reached for the first new table, still covered by packing paper. The partners pulled the paper off of the surface and pushed it into the other room, positioning five chairs around it.

Fifteen minutes later, everyone was stuffed. Alex had not disappointed, buying what seemed like one of every meal that the Chinese restaurant offered. Fin and Elliot got up to gather their coats and thanked Alex for dinner.

"You really didn't have to do that, Ms. Cabot. Thank you." Dickie was still a little uneasy around Alex. He had known her for a while, but he just wanted his Aunt Liv to be happy—and Alex seemed like someone who wasn't making her very happy lately. He gave Olivia a hug and filed in line with the two men ahead of him who were leaving.

"See you later, Liv," Fin called from the front door.

"Call me if you need anything." Elliot turned around to see her face when he said this, with Dickie following closely behind. She nodded and watched them leave. Before long, though, she hurried to the front door and threw it open, yelling for Dickie.

"Hey! Dickie!" Across the street, the teen peered over the top of his father's car, eager to hear what she had to say. She paused for a second before yelling, "I love you!" A smile illuminated his face when he replied. Olivia closed the front door and locked it, checking to make sure the deadbolt was fastened. She made her way back into the large dining area and sat down beside Alex.

The attorney noticed what looked like tears in Olivia's eyes as the detective scanned the room, checking the paint. Alex didn't have to ask if anything was wrong—all of her questions were answered when Olivia sighed, "Man, I love that kid." Alex smiled meekly, understanding the close relationship between Olivia and her godson.

Minutes passed and Alex wasn't sure how to start the conversation—it wasn't necessarily hers to start. Nevertheless, she thought some light chatter couldn't hurt. "I like these colors…and the place looks great. It's really coming together." Olivia listened intently to what Alex was saying and thanked her, saying they had been putting what felt like more work into it than the last time. There were a few moments of silence before Olivia began speaking again.

"So, I wanted your opinion on a few things, but I also really want to talk to you too." Alex nodded in understanding. "Décor first." Olivia chuckled somewhat uncomfortably as she got up and led Alex to the front of the restaurant. "I don't want to change the feel too much, but I think that this remodel is a good time to modernize this place a little bit. I'm thinking that we obviously need an Italian feel, but I want to incorporate some modern pieces and make it a little bit rustic too." Alex nodded and waited for Olivia to ask her opinion on a variety of pieces.

After they spent five or ten minutes going through the restaurant, they both sat back down around the table. "Well, thank you. Sometimes I just don't know what to put where or what pieces to pick." Olivia motioned around the restaurant and Alex chuckled lightly.

"It's no problem. I think you have great style, Liv. You didn't need my help at all…although…" she paused, smiling a bit when she said the next part, "if I'm being honest, the red paint looks a little better on the wall than it does on you."