Twenty-seven.

Everything about Olivia-body language, voice, and attitude-pointed to her being less than enthused about having to come to work on Mother's Day. As she listened to Fin and Carisi question the father of three boys who had gone missing overnight, she paced, sighed, and clicked her tongue. Fin was too accommodating. Carisi was too angry. At one point, the Lieutenant threw up her hands and sniped, "Do they think they're gonna coddle a confession out of him?"

Rollins let Olivia seethe. She neither agreed nor disagreed with the boss' assessment, and she wasn't sure the father actually knew anything. He seemed genuinely terrified for his sons who, he claimed, had not returned home after an early evening soccer practice. The case was not without its complications, though, and it had all the markers of something more sinister-acrimonious divorce, domestic abuse calls, and each of the boys' school discipline records included recent violent behaviors.

"Where's the mother?" Olivia asked for at least the third or fourth time.

"On a plane," Rollins said, "From Detroit. She's a researcher, recently hired at Michigan, which, according to her, is the reason why her husband has stashed the boys somewhere."

"Great."

"Yeah."

"Anything on the kids' phones? They're in middle school. They're on their phones all the time."

"Nope. Nothing. And nothing on their cards."

"Cards?"

"Dad says each kid has an AMEX."

"Wow."

"I know."

"And nothing at the apartment?"

"Other than it being too immaculate for a guy and three teenagers? No."

Olivia forced a sarcastic laugh. She pictured her own home which was often in various stages of disarray. The twins scattered their toys as quickly as Ed or Olivia returned them to the toy boxes. Noah kept his room orderly, but he always had two or three in-progress projects on display in addition to the perpetual presence of the train table.

Fletcher burst in with his phone in his hand and breathlessly announced a ransom demand had been phoned in to the precinct's general line. "Dusk tonight. South Street Seaport. Pier 17. One million."

Rollins barked out instructions for getting a trace on the line and rushed downstairs to grill the desk sergeant who had taken the call. Olivia braced herself against the ledge and stared into the interrogation room. A million dollar ransom to be exchanged at a locale densely populated with tourists and locals alike.

Great.

Mother's Day, for her at least, was pretty much shot.

…..

Fin screwed up his face as he observed the Lieutenant saunter into the precinct on what was beginning as a bleak, blustery day in Manhattan. A jaunty "Hey Fin" replaced the usual, workaday, "good morning," and, instead of opening her laptop and getting right to work, she spun around in her chair and stared out the window until Chief Dodds and other members of the NYPD brass showed up, presumably to to chat about the fallout and PR campaign related to Hank Abraham's conviction and sentence.

Fin was still eyeing his boss when Rollins approached and set a coffee and paper bag on his desk. "Mornin. Coffee. Donut. My treat. Hope you're still eating carbs."

"Was tryin not to," he mumbled absentmindedly but dug into the bag anyway.

"What's goin on?"

"Liv."

Rollins shot him an annoyed look. "Again, what's goin' on?"

"She's a little too happy for Monday morning, cold weather, and a shitty case."

After an eye roll, Rollins muttered, "They're in there congratulating themselves as spinning this as a win for NYPD."

Fin let her stalk off without another word but he watched peripherally until the suits left the office. Olivia followed, presumably to escort them out, but she had her coat in one hand.

"Be back in thirty," she said, "Nothing urgent. Call me if you need me."

Fin dutifully shook his head.

Something was definitely up.

…

Olivia sat across from the father of the three missing boys and leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees. Her frustration with his tight-lipped demeanor was no secret.

"You failed to mention you own properties...several properties...that have been subjects of lawsuits…"

The man groaned. "I'm...a developer," he explained weakly.

"You're a developer who fabricates code violations to force people from their rent-controlled apartments so you can inflate rent prices."

"Raise, not inflate."

Olivia's eyes almost shot out from their sockets. "That's what you're worried about right now? Verbiage?"

Deflated, the man slunk back in the chair and threw his arms in the air. "So now it's my fault? My boys are gone and it's my fault? Why don't you-."

Fin stepped in. "We've received a ransom demand. Million bucks. You got that kinda money?"

After at least a minute, the man nodded.

"Who is it?" Olivia asked.

"I dunno," he said weakly. "Could be dozens of people. I'm not exactly the most popular man in New York."

Olivia directed Fin to get the voice lineups ready and stormed out of the room. Taking advantage of a few minutes of alone time, she called Ed and apprised him of the situation. He assured her they would do Mother's Day the next day, or the next.

"The actual date...doesn't matter as much," he said, hoping she bought in to his reasoning.

"I…"

"Hey," he said, "The twins are too little too realize and Noah understands. We're going to Ma's. Call me if that guy gives the kids back before dinner and I'll come pick you up."

Olivia chuckled at the frivolity. "Okay."

"Okay."

"I love you, Ed."

"I love you, Olivia Margaret."

….

Walking hand-in-hand wasn't something Ed and Olivia did often. When Olivia first grabbed his hand during a stroll, they made it two blocks before joking about how their pace didn't exactly provide much room for hand-holding. At that moment, Ed slowed to a crawl and more tightly clasped her fingers. She'd looked up and grinned, getting his unspoken response.

The day the two of them left the twins at Kindergarten required hand holding. Olivia set a slow pace as they stepped away from campus, but Ed wasn't sure he could actually disentangle Olivia's fingers from his anyway. They walked aimlessly and ended up several blocks away from their neighborhood. Ed suggested they find a place to sit, talk, and take advantage of the pleasant September morning. Olivia shrugged. She couldn't think of anything other than her twins navigating Kindergarten for the entire day without her.

She should have been an old pro by now. Noah had had several first days of school. But the twins were her babies. They still cuddled, cried, whined, and acted like toddlers at times. Olivia sang to them at bedtime. Wyatt, and sometimes Maggie, still liked to be rocked to sleep.

And now they were in a classroom with a dozen other students for the entire day and would be expected to do all kinds of things-go to the bathroom, eat lunch, get items from their cubbies-all without their mother's or father's assistance!

"We told the teacher Wyatt's shy, right?" Olivia mumbled even though she was positive they'd mentioned it during the pre-school-year meet and greet and on the "getting to know you" survey the teacher sent, "He has to be prompted to answer questions. And, of course, Maggie will never stop talking."

"Maybe we shoulda put them in two separate classes." Ed was practical and had a point. Maggie often dominated conversations among the five of them. Wyatt preferred to observe. He would voice an opinion but in a reserved way, as if he were only allowed a certain amount of words to speak per day. When he did decide to chime in, however, his comments were smart, insightful, and hinted at a burgeoning dry sense of humor. Ed beamed with pride whenever this happened.

Olivia objected to splitting up the twins. "Oh, no," she said, "They have to be together. At least for this year. And next year. And maybe second grade…"

"You're right," Ed kissed the side of her head, "And, don't worry about him not talking a lot. If the teacher's good, she'll get him to open up."

Olivia clutched his hand even more tightly. "You're right," she said with a sigh, "And he really did seem comfortable," she forced brighter spirits, "Now...what are we doing today?"

Ed chuckled and a naughty smirk crossed his face. "Well…"

Olivia gave him a playful shove but didn't release his hand.

"How 'bout we take the bikes out?"

"I don't know," Olivia moaned, "What if the school calls and we can't get there quick enough?"

"Liv, they're fine."

"I don't know…" Olivia winced and thought about the moment they left the classroom. Maggie had come back for a second hug. Olivia could hear her sweet, slightly hoarse voice say "Bye-bye, Mama." In a surprising twist, Wyatt, filled with quiet confidence, had steeled his jaw and soldiered into the room after the initial goodbyes. When he realized Maggie was lingering at Ed's and Olivia's side, he held out his hand.

"Gotta go to school, Maggs," he said softly. When his sister shot him a reluctant frown, he added, "We c'go see Noah later. I know the way. Right down there." Wyatt pointed down the hall and tugged on his backpack straps. The bags were large and nearly swallowed both twins whole. On their school shopping outing Olivia gave Maggie and Wyatt the option of purchasing a smaller bag, but they both adamantly insisted they get the same version as Noah.

Wyatt looked up at Olivia and Ed, his deep blue eyes wide and serious, "Noah say we c'come get him if we have to."

"Yeah, bud," Ed replied, mussing Wyatt's hair, "But you're gonna be learning, time'll fly by, and before ya know it we'll be here to pick you up."

"You be right here," Maggie stomped her feet, one after the other. Ed smirked as he watched her little white Adidas sneaker soles slam against the navy blue indoor-outdoor carpeting. Olivia had pulled her hair back in a ponytail that morning, and the practical style made Maggie look extra sassy. The school had relaxed uniform requirements for Kindergarteners, but both twins insisted on mirroring Noah so they each wore the traditional burgundy polo and tan shorts.

Lost in the flashback of the morning, Olivia startled to attention when Ed spoke.

"C'mon," Ed said, giving her hand a little tug, "Let's go for a little ride. We won't get too ambitious. Few miles up then back down through the park. Whaddya say?"

Olivia stopped on a dime in the middle of the sidewalk to hug, kiss, and simper at her husband. Passersby scoffed and navigated around them.

"I love you so much," she whispered after she finished kissing him. "So, so much."

…

Carisi was just as irritated as the Lieutenant. He fiddled with the wire looped around his ear and sarcastically muttered, "I don't know about you all, but this certainly is my idea of a perfect Sunday."

The entire squad, positioned in various strategic points around the pier, rolled their eyes both at their own frustration and at Carisi's petulance. Olivia briefly wondered to herself how Brooke put up with him; he could be so whiny sometimes.

"Remember," Olivia spoke into her mouthpiece, "We don't know this guy. Stay alert." She didn't like the dismissive attitude that had permeated the squad throughout the afternoon. Nobody wanted to be there, and everyone made that perfectly clear. Usually, they were better at hiding it.

The boys' father was to leave the money under a specific bench along the pier in a briefcase. The demand bordered on cliche. More than once Olivia vocalized her skepticism, but the Lieutenant's questions were not enough to make anyone forget the fact that three boys had been kidnapped and needed rescuing. After the initial demand had been made, there caller made no further contact, so the squad had no opportunity to verify he did, indeed, have the kids. They were going in blind.

"Ten minutes," Fin mumbled, barely audible on the wire.

"Ten minutes," Olivia echoed through a sigh.

Rollins grumbled.

From across the walkway, Olivia saw Fletcher fidget and sip a soda. His eagerness was so obvious it actually worked in their favor.

Other plainclothes officers milled about, blending in with the evening crowd. ESU was standing by. The sun beat down on the exposed pier, causing it to feel much warmer than other parts of the city. Olivia blew a stream of air upward and watched a few strands of hair dance around.

If they could close this out, she could be at Caroline's in time for dessert.

…..

Olivia said goodbye to Chief Dodds and his NYPD brass buddies and hussled down the block to a nearby coffee shop. She saw Ed through the window. They immediately made eye contact and exchanged wide grins. She rushed in and darted to the small corner table. He stood for a hug and a kiss. They took their seats and beamed at one another.

"Got ya a chai." He pronounced "chai" slowly, like it was the first time he'd ever uttered the unfamiliar word. "It's still hot. Careful."

"Thank you."

Neither Ed nor Olivia could stop smiling. He had crept out of her apartment under the cover of very early morning darkness. Olivia remembered the curve of his backside, his bare hips silhouetted in the muted light as slid into his pants, and the way he buckled his belt but left his shirt, rumpled from spending hours on the floor, untucked. After several tender kisses, he headed for home. Olivia tried to catch a couple more hours' sleep, but when she closed her eyes she could only think about how beautiful their first night of lovemaking had been. She immediately missed him, but her chest swelled with warmth when she recalled his gravelly voice insisting it would be better for Noah if he snuck out before the little guy woke up. Ed was right, but easing Noah in to the idea of the two of them together didn't make Olivia miss him any less.

"Busy morning?" Ed asked.

"Not exactly," Olivia replied. "Dodds and company stopped by to thank us for making them look good, you know the drill, and here I am."

Ed's eyes twinkled as he smirked. "Olivia Benson blowing off work?"

"I wanted to see you," she brushed a section of hair from her face and saw Ed's jaw slacken a bit. "Last night...was so good."

Ed hadn't been expecting such a direct compliment. Suddenly nervous, he took a sip to buy time and think, worried he'd fuck up the response. He decided to match her level of transparency and fliration, "Real good. I, uh, well, it's only been a few hours, but I can't stop thinkin' about you."

For a split second he thought he'd gone overboard, but Olivia reached for his hand and said, "Me too," in a hushed voice.

Ed had to divert his eyes. He glanced at the street then back at her-his, gulp, girlfriend? Knocked sideways by love, good fortune, and memories of the feel of her skin against his, he grinned and leaned forward across the small table. Taking the hint, Olivia closed the distance and they kissed again.

"I was a little worried," she admitted abashedly, "this would be awkward."

"So was I. But when I saw ya…"

"I know."

Olivia sat back in her chair and Ed was mildly disappointed she'd released his hand to do so.

"Are you...busy tonight?"

"No."

"Want to have dinner with Noah and me? I should be able to leave at a normal time."

"I'd love to."

Olivia laughed softly.

"What?" Ed asked.

Attempting to temper her smile, she replied, "Nothing...you...you look so happy."

"I am." Now it was his turn to reach for her hand, "I spent the night with a smart, gorgeous, incredible woman and she wants to see me again tonight. Right now, I have zero complaints." Surely he'd overshot this time, but, as long as Olivia didn't storm out, he almost didn't care. It was important she know how thrilled he was she'd let him in to her life.

"If you feel like you need to ingratiate yourself with me any more," Olivia bit her lip and cocked her eyebrow, "After last night...you don't."

"You have such a good vocabulary," Ed retorted, grinning again. It was an expression Olivia was still getting used to seeing on his face.

Olivia let her eyes drift to his fingers-so thick, strong, and masculine. Those fingers now knew every millimeter of her body, and Olivia shivered thinking of how, before Ed let himself fall on top of her, he slowly ran the back of his hand from her collarbone to her left thigh. There was no question he was completely enamored

"I don't think I have a witty response for that one," she finally replied.

Ed chuckled. Needing a change to more mundane topics, he talked about the upcoming weekend and how he was helping one of his daughters install a dishwasher in her Bronx apartment. "And by helping," he clarified, "I mean doing all the work while she opens beers."

"So funny," Olivia said, "I lived without a dishwasher for years, but now? I couldn't imagine. It's a must have."

"I could prolly get by without one," Ed said, "No kids in the house. I really only need a couple glasses, a plate, and a fork."

"That is so sad."

"Well," he continued with a twinkle in his eye, "Now that you might be convinced to let me cook dinner for ya, I'll get to dig deeper into the cabinets."

Blood rushed to Olivia's face. She peered across the table at Ed. Attired in his familiar crisp white shirt, basic tie, and navy suit, to an outside observer, he was unremarkable. But the people in the shop and on the streets hadn't shared a bed with him last night and weren't the target of his flirtatious overtures.

"What's your...signature dish?" Olivia asked.

"Still to be determined," Ed replied self-deprecatingly. "But I hear good things about this service called...Google?"

"Oh yeah. I've tried it a few times. Not completely immune to user error, but it's better than nothing."

"Gimme a few days?"

"Sure."

Their drinks were nearly empty, but they continued the small talk. Neither Ed nor Olivia wanted to be the one to end the coffee break, but, finally, IAB business called.

"Got someone comin' in this morning," Ed muttered.

"Well," Olivia said with a teasing grin, "Go easy on 'em."

Ed put a hand on the small of her back as they wound their way toward the door. "I'm in a good mood, so they're lucky in that respect." Outside, they faced each other. The wind whipped Olivia's hair. Ed wanted to clutch a handful and kiss her until they were both out of breath.

They simultaneously scanned their surroundings. Deciding it was safe to do so, Olivia held his wrists and gave him a quick yet tender kiss on the lips. "I call you later," she said softly.

"Have a good day," he replied, not sounding at all thrilled to be leaving her.

"You too."

….

An unexpected gray rain cloud sprayed a fine mist across the pier and sent most people scurrying for cover. Among those rushing for dry ground was Fletcher who wisely realized their entire operation would be scuttled if the only people left on the pier were law enforcement officers. It was SVU's youngest detective who first spotted the hostage taker.

"Two o'clock. With the three kids. Should I move on them, Lieutenant?"

"No. Let's see what he does." Olivia sighted the foursome. The boys appeared more curious than terrified. They followed a few steps behind the perp who strode at a brisk place toward the appointed bench.

Olivia's confidence abated. Something wasn't right. This was too easy.

"Maintain your positions," she ordered.

The man was saying something to the boys. They nodded. The man picked up the briefcase. The boys sat side by side on the bench. The perp began hustling away, but stopped short and whirled around slowly, making eye contact with anyone who would engage.

"Shit," Olivia muttered. "Move in! Take him NOW!"

The man brandished a silver plated pistol and fired three shots in the boys' direction. They dove for cover, falling in a heap on the brick path. Officers returned a volley of bullets. The suspect collapsed. In the process of falling to the ground he hurled the briefcase and wrapped bundles of hundred dollar bills came to rest a few feet from his body.

Officers flanked the area. They ushered the boys away. Others hovered around the lifeless perp. In the commotion, it took a few minutes for anyone to notice Olivia crouching near the guard rail clutching her right arm.

"Liv's hit!" Fin sprinted to her side. His stomach flip-flopped at the sight of blood soaking through her sleeve. He barked the ten-thirteen into his radio. "Liv? Liv, you're alright."

Her eyes were open, shocked, but still bright. She grimaced and clenched her teeth. Ironically, she had never given much thought to how it would feel to have a bullet pierce her skin, but now that it had happened, she decided it had to have been a ricochet.

In the moment between his call and the arrival of the EMTs, Fin put pressure on the wound and studied her face with his brow furrowed and his lips pressed into a straight line.

"I'm okay," she finally said, "I'm, owww," she gasped when she tried to move the arm.

"-Stay still."

"-yeah, okay, I'm, I'm fine...call Ed. Someone's going to call him, the radio...someone's going to hear it," the EMTs arrived and began tending to her, "Fin, call him. But let me talk. He won't believe I'm okay unless you let me talk."

Fin dug through layers and found his phone in a cargo pocket.

The medical team loaded Olivia onto the gurney over her objections. She insisted she could walk. They insisted it was policy they give her a lift. Finally, she conceded. Fin dialed Ed's number and held the phone to Olivia's ear as they wheeled her to the ambulance.

"Ed, honey…"

…..

#Tuckson