Twenty.

Ed and Olivia weren't gone ten minutes before Sarah and Justin acknowledged they were in for an exhausting few hours. Noah and the twins were in rare form tonight. Noah was always a chatterbox, but tonight he had a plethora of topics to cover. He told Sarah and Justin about his visit to the stables. The twins bellowed "HORSE" and Noah instructed the adults to get down on all fours and start giving rides around the living room.

"G'YUP!" Maggie shouted.

"GOGOGOGO!" Wyatt chimed in, kicking his heels into Sarah's side. He lost his balance after a few paces and, undeterred, ran into the bedroom and dragged the rocking horse into the room.

"Wyatt," Sarah said warily as he began careening back and forth, "Be careful!" She positioned herself between the window and her young charge, worried he would catapult forward at any second.

"Sare Bear, he knows howta ride," Noah assured her.

Sarah squinted at Wyatt and tried to appear stern, but the little boy was shrieking so gleefully she had to grin. "He's getting so big," she moaned, "I'm used to them being babies."

"BAY!" Maggie shouted. She wriggled away from Justin. It was now her turn to run into the bedroom. She returned with an armful of dolls and stuffed animals, dumped them in the center of the room, and, deciding they were not nearly enough, went back for a few more.

"Oh boy," Sarah said.

Justin smiled, "It's a party now."

"DANCE PARTY!" Noah shouted. He quickly found his iPad and navigated to the music. "C'mon! Wyatt, get off dat horse. Let's DANCE!"

…

Noah tossed his keys into a dish and offered Mia a drink. She twirled around once, sliding gracefully on the tile kitchen floor, and said she was happy with whatever he had. Noah wasn't much of a drinker. He inspected the meager options in a cabinet above the refrigerator and chose vodka over bourbon.

"I have, I think, some orange juice or…"

He was still holding the bottle in the air when Mia's body came flailing toward him.

"Oof." Noah stepped backwards to retain balance and patted her back with his one free hand.

"I'm so glad to see you," Mia said in a hushed voice. She put her head on Noah's shoulder, and her ponytail, which had smacked him in the face seconds ago, came to rest under his chin. "I'm sorry to just barge in on you like this. I know you're busy and…you're leaving."

Noah managed to create some space between them even though Mia didn't make it easy. She eventually stood on the other side of the kitchen and sipped the cocktail Noah prepared. He wore a pleasant expression as he drank, but a million thoughts raced through his head. Since high school, Mia had made a habit of popping in and out of Noah's life, and, more often than not, she did so with the worst timing. When he assumed he would never see her again and memories they shared began to fade, she showed up. At the moment he felt like she was there to stay, she vanished. Now, here she was again, with copious baggage, in his apartment, and, despite all the question marks, he desperately wanted her to stay.

"Do you want to come with me?" Noah swallowed hard. He could alter the question's meaning, for he was meeting Sarah and Justin the next morning, but he was really asking if Mia wanted to join him at the beach.

"Where?"

He stared at her freckled face and took a deep breath. "To Bethany. I'm only going for a few days…if you have to get back…"

"I am back," she said, "I'm in New York for good, well, for a while," she briefly flipped through her phone, presumably checking its calendar. "You can have me back Monday?" Her deep brown, almost black eyes were wide and hopeful.

"Yeah, sure."

"Then I'll go." Mia crinkled her nose at the menus on the counter, "Let's not order in. Let's go out and celebrate."

"Celebrate what?"

"Patience, mister," she said with a mysterious grin, "C'mon. Let's go to Times Square and make up stories like the good old days."

Fighting a yawn, Noah nodded his head in agreement. "You may have to drive some tomorrow if we stay out too late."

"No problem," Mia replied, jabbing one hand in her oversized tote, "I'm pretty sure my license isn't expired."

…

The "Classes of the Eighties" reunion was held at a multi-level bar and restaurant that, on a regular night, would have been way too hip and trendy for a bunch of people in their fifties and sixties. Dim, grayish-blue lighting filled the space and made the iron stairs and railings look shadowy and daunting, especially since Ed and Olivia had had a pre-function drink at a dingy dive bar they frequented when they first started seeing each other socially. He had thanked her for accompanying him no less than ten times, and she brushed off the sentiments saying it wouldn't be that bad.

"Also," she added, "This is what married people do."

The invitation arrived a month ago, and Ed had cast it aside in their "for later" mail pile and forgot about the letter until Olivia unearthed it and persuaded him to attend. Ed put up a mild protest. It was semi-formal. He didn't keep in touch with many people from college. They would have to get a sitter for all three kids on a Saturday evening.

"We have clothes," Olivia said, "We also have babysitters and the purpose of a reunion is to get reacquainted with people you haven't seen in a while. It'll be fun." Olivia chose not to divulge the other reason why she was so adamant about attending—she couldn't help but worry from time to time that Ed would grow weary of full-time Daddy duties. Nothing he did or said supported the concern; nevertheless, it was there.

Any remaining reservations he held about attending the reunion disappeared when he zipped Olivia into her dress—a sleeveless, burgundy A-line number with a lace pattern and a high-low hem that revealed enough thigh to make Ed shiver. He saw his wife naked…a lot…but there were times she was almost sexier fully clothed. He figured it was the fact that they were going out, they would be seen, and Ed imagined he was the envy of every man they encountered because, after all, he got to take her home.

To Ed's relief, the tacky "Hello, I am" name tags were nowhere to be found, and he and Olivia sauntered in, squinting and trying to make their way to the main bar space without colliding with the narrow tables arranged in a way that required patrons to weave their way forward rather than walk directly to the bar. They ordered cocktails and found a table at the edge of the action. For several minutes, Ed searched for familiar faces. Finding none, he wondered aloud if they'd crashed someone else's party.

"Ed! Tucker! Steady Eddie, how are ya?"

A tall wiry man with a wide grin and a much younger woman in tow surged forward and violently shook Ed's hand.

"Craig," Ed murmured, "Wow…long time no see…you're…"

"Skinny?"

"Well, yeah."

"Damn cancer will do that to ya."

Both Ed's and Olivia's jaws dropped.

"In remission for a year," Craig said. He yanked on the woman's arm. She'd been hovering behind him, "This is Melissa, my girlfriend."

Melissa, pretty but meek, gave each of them a weak handshake. She spent the rest of the conversation fluffing her long, wavy, locks. Her hair was so blonde it was almost white.

Ed gestured toward Olivia, "My wife, Olivia," he said proudly. He loved saying those words.

"Wife," Craig said wistfully, "I remember what it was like to have one of those. Good for you, man. Wow," he looked around with the same dreamy look in his eyes, "Been a long, long damn time. Retired yet?"

"Yep. You?"

"Semi. Took time off to slay this damn disease and didn't really go back full bore. Good thing I have kids to support me."

Ed shot him a polite smile. He fidgeted and relaxed only when Olivia put her arm around his waist.

"You have kids?" Craig asked.

"Five," Ed replied.

"Goddam, man."

The night unfolded in this fashion—the same banal conversation repeated over and over, on a loop, complete with too-big smiles worn by people who weren't exactly sure if the person in front of them was the person they remembered from college. Nevertheless, Olivia and Ed enjoyed themselves. They joked and flirted and exchanged kisses. They even took pictures in front of the green screen and in the photo booth. Ed glanced approvingly at the printed strip of four pictures and slid it in his jacket pocket.

It wasn't until they'd been there for a couple of hours that Ed bumped into two genuine college buddies and their wives. He and Olivia had finished munching on hors d'oeuvres and were debating whether to leave or stay for another drink when, once again, someone bellowed "Eddie" from across the room. Ed broke into a smile when he pinpointed the face and greeted the men with hugs.

"Liv, meet my old roommates—Pete and Charlie."

Olivia enthusiastically shook their hands and blushed when Charlie muttered something about how he couldn't believe Ed Tucker had managed to convince such a lovely woman to marry him.

"Took me a while," Ed quipped.

"Don't blame her," Pete added.

After a night of making small talk with mistresses, younger girlfriends, and middle-aged women who looked like they would give anything to curl up in bed with Lifetime Movies, Olivia fell into pleasant chatter with the wives of Pete and Charlie. Like her they were both working mothers, although their children were older, in high school and college. Olivia felt comfortable enough to show a few pictures of the little ones and then one of the entire family. She pointed out Sarah and Justin and mentioned they'd been kind enough to watch the kids for the evening. The group of six soon partitioned themselves by gender, and the sound of Olivia's laughter let Ed know she was perfectly fine with the arrangement for the time being. Nevertheless, he couldn't resist sneaking glances at her. She was, by far, the most beautiful person in the room. He doubted anyone had a more stressful job, but she showed no outward signs of wear and tear. Her eyes sparkled. Her cheeks had a rosy hue. Even her shoulders had relaxed a bit. Ed's eyes drifted down her body and he noticed she was twirling one ankle around, balancing her heel precariously on her toes. She was at her most carefree.

She was safe.

Happy.

And his.

She caught him gawking. He knew he'd be playfully admonished later for staring. Not only did he not care, he was looking forward to it.

More ruckus ensued when three more men, clearly several drinks in, produced a box of cigars and began indiscriminately passing them out as if a child had just been born. Craig and Pete practically dove for theirs, but Ed stayed back and drifted to Olivia's side as the men made their way toward the third floor and the outdoor terrace.

Olivia tilted her head into his kiss and asked why he wasn't following the group out for a smoke.

"Didn't wanna leave ya alone much longer," he said, "I know how much you hate small talk with the wives."

"Go," she put her hands on his chest and eyed the cigar dangling from his thumb and forefinger, "I'm good."

He reluctantly considered the suggestion. "Five minutes?"

"Take your time," she said, cocking her eyebrow, "You'll be back."

He poked the inside of his mouth with his tongue as his eyes traveled up and down her body, "Damn right about that." In an instant, a sweet smile supplanted the lecherous smirk. He kissed her, stared into her eyes, and whispered, "I love you more than everything in our lives combined."

The words took her breath away and all she could do was gently nudge him toward the stairs. Halfway up he looked back, sensing her eyes following his path, and grinned when she mouthed, "I love you, too."

…..

Ed handed Olivia a drink and watched in amazement as she downed nearly its entire contents in one gulp. Even though it was a Friday night, they and another pair were the only patrons in the bar, and the relative privacy made Olivia more at ease and less concerned about being spotted. She dragged her stool closer to Ed's and rested one forearm on the bar rail.

"Was the social worker meltdown as bad as I've heard?" Ed asked.

"Yes," Olivia replied unequivocally. "She's in Bellevue. And I'm probably screwed as far as the promotion is concerned, but…" she polished off the rest of the drink and signaled for another, "We got the moral victory. At least for now."

Ed wholeheartedly disagreed. "Nah. They have to promote you now. Not gonna look good otherwise. Remember, those people are all about politics and perception. That's why they wanted you to stand down in the first place."

"I ignored an order."

"You didn't. Barba did."

"I let the investigation continue."

Ed's eyes bored into hers, "You did the right thing. Deep down the brass knows it needs people like you as commanding officers, and they need people like that pissant Abraham to spin the aftermath, and that's exactly what happened, and the NYPD's public image, at least in this case, is pristine."

"But Dodds and the rest of them know what really happened."

"They'll forget. Someone else'll be on the hot seat…tomorrow probably."

Olivia shot him a grateful smile. She appreciated his insight and his ability to set her straight without being condescending. After all, they'd both been on the force for nearly the same amount of time, but Ed had a better working knowledge of the NYPD's administrative world. For the past several months, as old tensions cooled, they'd had several conversations like this one, and, each time, his advice and predictions had been spot on.

"I'm sure you're right," Olivia said softly.

He shrugged and muttered, "Same playbook; different day." Ed chewed a handful of snack mix and changed the subject, "Sorry I didn't get to talk to ya much at the dinner the other night."

"Yeah, Dodds enjoyed parading me around a little too much."

"I could tell."

"I don't understand him," Olivia griped, "One minute he's kind and really sincere about being a mentor, and the next minute he's…a callous asshole."

Envy collected in Ed's chest when he heard Olivia describe Dodds as kind and sincere; that, coupled with the overbearing way Dodds ushered her around at the fundraiser, triggered his Olivia-related possessive instincts.

"Told ya," he muttered through clenched teeth, "Trademarks of the politicians. Can't trust anything about him, or them. You don't get to those positions without being self-serving. They're the kind of people…who joined the force because they liked the way they looked in a uniform…they liked the feel of the shield, the power…"Ed caught himself before he fell into a full-fledged rant. "Anyway, I know he's your boss, but your mission and his don't exactly align."

Olivia tilted her head and squinted curiously at him; her fascination at this version of Ed Tucker had no bounds. Nevertheless, she challenged him. "You don't like feeling that power?"

He smirked. She wasn't letting him get away with much, and it made her even more desirable. "I have been guilty of indulging in my authority every once in a while."

"But…?"

"No buts," he replied, "No excuses. But I didn't wake up every morning and plot to take down someone's career. Anyone who thinks that is giving me way too much credit."

"You thought you were doing the right thing," Olivia said rhetorically.

"I did. And once I latched on to an investigation, I saw it through. It was our policy to err on the side of caution…not on the side of the cops—"

"—and that's not political?"

"Sure it was," Ed admitted somewhat sheepishly, "But all accused cops, they all got their due process, their PBA reps, their appeals. If we didn't act fast, particularly after an officer involved shooting or somethin' else that was in the public view, the precincts, the neighborhoods were even less safe and more likely to erupt. Takin' someone's shield and weapon for ten days isn't gonna hurt the officer much. A riot could damage a neighborhood for years."

Olivia acknowledged she'd never, ever, thought of IAB investigations in that fashion. Yet again, she found herself realizing that Ed Tucker, though gruff and unyielding, had been, at times, misunderstood.

"Well, um," Olivia bit her lip and hesitated. She was about to throw Ed a flirtatious bone, and it made her nervous. "I would much rather have sat at your table the other night."

Ed replied nonchalantly even though he felt the heat of blood rushing to his cheeks. He touched his glass to hers.

"Next time."

…..

Noah yanked open the freezer door and took out two tubs of ice cream. Taking advantage of the ajar pantry door, Wyatt rose to his tiptoes and managed to reach the chocolate syrup. He held the bottle with both hands and proudly delivered it to his brother.

"Good job, Wyatt! Now, Sare Bear! We need bowls!"

"Just a minute, Noey!" Sarah called from the twins' room where she'd been changing Maggie's diaper. After wrestling with the little girl, she put her on the floor clad only in her diaper and t-shirt.

"Small sister, where're your pants?" Noah asked, giggling.

"Small sister is a gigantic pain in the butt," Sarah muttered good-naturedly. "She can stay like that."

Noah handed the ice cream scoop to Justin, "I get three scoops and small sister and brother get two," Noah said, "I want one vanilla, two strawberry, and those babies get one vanilla, one strawberry. Sare Bear, da sprinkles are up there," Noah pointed to an overhead cabinet out of his reach, "And here's da syrup!"

Justin portioned the ice cream and Noah drowned each serving in chocolate sauce. Sarah put the twins in their high chairs and Noah ate his dessert while seated on top of the island. Twenty minutes later, the twins were sticky messes and melted ice cream dribbled down Noah's chin after he'd tried to drink out of his bowl.

"Now what we gonna do?" Noah asked as Sarah wiped his face with a damp cloth.

"Go to bed," Sarah said.

Justin burst into laughter. Not even Wyatt appeared tired. Having already been cleaned up, he and Maggie were back in their toy pile playing enthusiastically and wearing only diapers.

"Uh-uh," Noah said, "We're gonna BOWL! He retrieved the bowling set from the hall closet. "C'mon," he waved everyone to the back hallway, "Dis da bowling alley! Lessgo! Justy, we need da board!"

Justin dutifully carried the easel over and wrote everyone's names with the dry erase marker. "Do we keep score like regular bowling?"

"Yup," Noah said, "You write down how many pins each person knocks over." He demonstrated a roll. "I got NINE, so you write nine. Now it's Wyatt's turn. He goes first 'cause he'd ya youngest."

"Wyatt and Maggie are twins," Sarah said, "They have the same birthday."

"Maggs came out first," Noah retorted sassily.

"Touché."

"What dat mean?"

"It means you made a good point."

"What dat mean?"

"It means you said something smart."

"Oh," Noah twisted his lips then broke into a wide grin. "Touché, Sare Bear."

"Why'd you say that, Noey Boey?"

"You said I said somethin' smart," he announced triumphantly. "Dat's a good point!"

For what seemed like the billionth time that night, Justin cracked up. "I need to take him to class with me," he said, "He's more logical than most adults!"

"Perhaps," Sarah said in a teasing voice, "But how good is he at bowling?"

"I'm REALLY GOOD! I'm gonna beat ya, Sare Bear!"

"I don't think so, but let's make a bet. I win, and you buy dinner when I pick you up next week."

Noah shook her hand.

"Deal."

….

Ed and Olivia stayed at the reunion much longer than they'd planned, and it was past midnight when they made their way to the exit. Olivia kept glancing at her husband, for he still had a drink in his hand and appeared intent on leaving with it. When they were within a few feet of the doors, Olivia wordlessly took it from him. He stumbled a little as he watched her place the half-full glass on a railing.

"I gotta leave that, Lieutenant?" He slurred.

"Yes."

"I get to leave with you?"

"Yes."

"Fine with me."

While they waited for their car, Ed nuzzled her neck and slid his arms around her waist. "Let's get a hotel room," he whispered.

"We have to let Sarah and Justin go home," she said even though a hotel room did sound like fun.

"They can sleep at our house."

"We should've thought about this before we left."

"I wanna make love to you all night long," Ed rasped. He gave her a sloppy smooch. "I love you so much, you're so perfect, and I love your shoes…and this dress," he tugged at the material, "But I wanna unzip you outta it."

The whiskey on his breath was strong and he was swaying, but Olivia had an affinity for drunk Ed—he was sugary sweet and extra doting and sometimes he even giggled.

"We'll save the hotel idea for another time," she said. In his state he would probably fall asleep as soon as he flopped on the bed. "But you can still make love to me if you want."

"I want."

The car was certainly taking a long time to arrive. Olivia reached into Ed's pocket and took out his phone.

"Whatcha doin?" He asked.

She told him he hadn't actually confirmed the Uber.

"Oops."

"Three minutes away."

"We stopping for a nightcap?"

"Thought you wanted to hurry home," Olivia leaned in and whispered the last part, "and fuck me?"

His droopy eyes widened and a naughty smirk formed on his face. "That's my kinda nightcap."

They exchanged kisses until their car came to a stop in front of them. In the backseat their pecks quickly escalated to a passionate make out session until Ed pulled away and pressed his forehead to hers. "Lieutenant?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for letting me kiss you."

"You're welcome." She rubbed his thigh, desperate for him to stay awake. As she leaned in to whisper in his ear, she bit his lobe. "And I'm gonna let you do some other things when we get home."

He grinned. The bawdy talk made him suddenly more alert, and it showed on his face. He glanced out the window. "Almost there. Let's not ask Sarah and Justin to stay for a drink."

Given the hour, that was highly unlikely. Nevertheless, Olivia humored him. "We'll thank them and kick them out."

"Lieutenant, I love the way you think."

…..

#Tuckson