105.

Ed popped three ibuprofen, the strongest medication he ever willingly allowed in his body, and chased it with a shot of Children's Tylenol. Following Olivia's directive, he made himself an egg and cheese bagel sandwich, made sure to drink a full glass of water, and sat at the island, pondering what to do with the day. He was not confident Olivia would return in time for lunch, so he assumed he and the twins would be on their own until it was time to get Noah. Thinking of the first grader, he checked the school calendar and called Caroline to remind her the holiday music program was scheduled for Thursday and he'd pick her up that morning. She was in the middle of making cookies and a few other things for the church's outreach program and rushed him off the phone.

"Maggs? Wyatt? Whaddya want to do?" He asked the twins, hoping they would, at least, want to interact with him.

"Go 'side, Dada!" Wyatt suggested. "Snowman!"

Maggie whirled around the room, a taxi in hand, and shouted, "SED!"

Even though the Tucker kids were content at home and always found toys, books, art supplies, or other items to occupy their time, all three loved going out. It didn't matter if the trip was down the block for simple errands or if the destination was the park or playground, Noah, Maggie, and Wyatt were always game for getting outside or going somewhere.

Ed took a minute to assess his health. The medicine seemed to have kicked in and the food hit the spot. He definitely could take the twins out for a little while. He wasn't in the mood for the toddler gym-too many people wanting to strike up small talk-so he decided to bundle the twins in the stroller and walk to Rockefeller Center. They hadn't gone to see the Christmas tree yet all as a family, but Ed figured they could go again at night and see the lights in their full glory.

It was cold outside, but the skies were clear and there was no wind. He zipped the twins into their parkas, made sure their mittens and beanies were secure, and wrapped a blanket around each one after they were strapped in the stroller. Ed tugged on his own outerwear and they took the elevator downstairs. As they made their way across the city, Wyatt and Maggie jabbered away.

"Stahbucks!" Wyatt exclaimed each time they passed the familiar coffee shop. "STAHBUCKS!"

"Want Starbucks, bud?"

"Stahbucks, Dah!"

Ed turned into the store, nodded to a man who held the door for him, and wheeled the twins inside. They were smack dab in the middle of midtown, and he and the twins people-watched while they sipped their drinks. "Lookit all the people buyin' presents," he said with an air of excitement and mystery.

"Sanna Caus comin!"

Maggie said before launching into a litany of fast-paced, incomprehensible babbles. When she paused, Wyatt added a few lines from Jingle Bells and bellowed, "Ho! Ho! Ho!" They were loud and attracted a few simpers and waves from customers coming and going. On her way out, one patron stopped and said hello.

"How old are they?" She asked Ed.

"Two and a half," he replied.

"Such cuties," she said, "Going to see Santa?"

"Already done."

"Mine screamed," she said.

"They didn't," Ed reported proudly, "But they had their older brother with them, so he did most of the talking. Good buffer."

She smiled, revealing a mouthful of large, perfectly straight, white teeth. Judging by her attire, Ed assumed she worked somewhere nearby in the corporate world, but as she adjusted her scarf, he caught the glare of an NYPD shield catch the light. "I hope Santa brings them everything they asked for."

"What precinct ya at?" Ed asked, nodding toward her waist.

"Midtown North," she replied with raised eyebrows. "Are you-"

"-Retired," Ed stuck out his hand, "Tucker, uh, Hostage Negotiation and-"

"-and IAB," a grin slowly formed on her face and her eyes narrowed, "We've met before. A while ago. Maybe ten, fifteen years. You were tough."

Ed shrugged. What was he supposed to say? Of course he was tough; he had to be.

Sensing he was uncomfortable, she asked, "How long have you been off the job?"

"Almost three years now."

"Stay at home Dad?"

"Somethin' like that."

"Good for you," she smiled again, "I have at least seven years left."

"It'll go by fast."

"The last thirteen sure did."

"DA! Ah'done!" Wyatt stretched one of his arms out, desperate to rid himself of the empty cup. "Ah'done!"

"We're about ready to get goin," Ed took the cup and grabbed Wyatt's mittens, "Nice talkin' to ya."

"Nice talking to you," she waved at the twins, "Bye kids! Have a good day!"

Ed coaxed Maggie and Wyatt into two soft "Bye byes" and checked the immediate area for anything they may have dropped. Seeing nothing, he put their hoods back on. "Ready?"

"Re'Freddy!" Maggie giggled.

Wyatt echoed the rhyme they'd learned from Noah and laughed heartily.

"Alright, silly twins, let's go see the tree."

Back on the street, Ed took a deep breath of the chilly winter air. He and Olivia hadn't parted ways that morning under the best circumstances, but, suddenly, he felt better, almost buoyant. He glanced down at the twins, two sources of constant joy, and his heart filled with warmth and gratitude. How could he be in a funk when he had these two giggly, happy toddlers in his world? For the time being, he decided not to worry about the morning's tension or anything else for that matter and focused on soaking up the charm of the city in full-blown Christmas mode.

….

With all the reluctance in the world, Ed Tucker pulled on boxer shorts, the bare minimum of sleepwear. He and Olivia really had no choice but to don some clothing, for it was the night before Christmas and the kids would be invading their room in a matter of hours. The sound of the water draining from the tub echoed through the bathroom. Olivia turned on the faucet again to rinse the tub of bubble bath residue. When she stood up, Ed enveloped her in his arms and kissed the back of her neck.

"Merry Christmas, baby," he rasped into her peppermint-scented skin.

She tilted her head back and they managed a kiss. "Merry Christmas. I love you, Ed."

"I love you."

"And I'm going to love the five a.m. wake up call a little more if we get some sleep," she turned around and put her palms on his bare chest. "C'mon."

"Yes ma'am."

They fell asleep curled together in the middle of the mattress. During the night they meandered apart a few inches to their own sides of the bed, but Olivia briefly woke in the wee hours of morning, sidled up to him, and slung her arm across his torso. Maggie, Wyatt, and Noah found their parents in that position when they burst in a short while later.

"Santa came!" Maggie exclaimed.

"There's a bunch of presents," Ten-year-old Noah reported. "Like way more than ever before!" Noah hadn't officially asked his parents about the reality of Santa Claus, but, from conversations with friends, he knew it was probable the whole Santa thing was a myth. Yet, he hung onto the belief, perhaps because he wasn't quite ready to take the step out of childhood fancy. Besides, the family took great joy in Santa-related magic. Maybe, deep down, he thought if he acknowledged the truth, the Christmas season would lose a bit of its appeal.

"We were good this year!" Wyatt chimed in.

Maggie was already jumping on the bed. Attired in green Charlie Brown pajamas, she loomed over her parents, threatening to land on them at any time. Wyatt and Noah were politely draped on the edge of the mattress, their feet on the floor.

"You were good until now," Ed quipped.

"Daddy! We always get up early on Christmas!"

"Probably the reindeer and Santa liked the cookies and carrots and milk," Wyatt speculated, still hung up on the horde of wrapped boxes in the living room.

"We have to get coffee first," Olivia teased.

"I can make the coffee," Noah offered.

Maggie finally lost her balanced and collapsed on top of Ed and Olivia. She wedged herself between them and giggled. "Daddy, why you never wear a shirt to bed even in da winter?"

"Cause Mommy keeps me warm."

"Ew," Noah murmured good-naturedly.

"There goes one of your presents, bud."

"You have presents out there, too," Wyatt cheerfully pointed out, "I saw one, two, three for you, Daddy! And I know there's more! It's hard to see!"

Olivia rolled over and cupped one of Wyatt's cheeks, "And how many for me?"

"A thousand million!"

"Ed," Olivia said, "We have to get out there. I have a thousand million presents to open! And we have to be in Riverdale at two."

Ed stretched, grunted, groaned, and, in the process, playfully swatted Maggie in the face. "Daddy! That was naughty! Minus ONE present!"

"Uh-oh."

Olivia lifted her daughter to the other side of the bed, giving her a quick hug and kiss in the process, "Okay, we're up. Noah, will you start the coffee for me and Dad? Wyatt, Maggie, get the big plate out of the refrigerator and put it on the tray with the folding legs. I left it out last night."

"Is there pashio bread on it?" Wyatt asked, adorably mispronouncing "pistachio."

"There sure is, sweetheart," Olivia replied, "And carrot cake and cinnamon rolls."

"And bagel?" Noah asked. He wasn't a fan of sweet breads and pastries, at least not for breakfast.

"And bagel," Olivia replied. "Cream cheese, too of course. Your favorite from the deli."

Noah flashed his unmistakable grin, "Thanks, mom."

The kids ran into the living room to arrange the breakfast food and prepare the drinks. Olivia took Ed's hands and dragged him out of bed. "C'mon, naughty Daddy. Time for Christmas morning."

Ed smirked devilishly and gave her a sloppy smooch on the lips. With one hand, he played with her hair, with the other, her breasts. "I am still so in love with you," he whispered.

"That's a good thing, sir."

He gazed into her eyes, "Tell me you feel the same way."

"I do," she cooed, "I'm in love with you more every single day. It's cliche, but so, so true."

He kissed her again, "Guess we better get out there?"

"I guess so."

"Since you have a thousand million presents…"

"It will take a while…"

Ed squeezed her hand before he darted into the bathroom to retrieve jogging pants and a hooded sweatshirt, "You deserve every one of 'em."

…..

The small Christmas tree in the corner of the Benson Center reception area was almost unnoticeable among the dozen or so women and their children milling about, waiting to be seen by Olivia or one of the other staff members. Olivia's arrival immediately brought a sense of calm to Sophie, but her peace of mind did nothing to shorten the wait for those needing the Center's assistance. Olivia got right to work. She entered her office and closed the door so she could review the case files. She prioritized the women who had small children and quickly made phone calls to arrange for beds at shelters for those who needed them. By mid-afternoon, she had regrettably failed to bring Ed and the twins lunch, but the waiting room chairs were no longer at a premium. Confident another person could handle the rest of the day's tasks, Olivia called in her final consultation of the day.

Kamara was disheveled, walked with her shoulders slumped, and stared at the floor the entire time she sat in Olivia's office. Her answers were delivered in one or two words, and, despite the cold, she wore only a light denim jacket. A pilled fleece headband seemed to support her entire mop of tangled black hair. From the report, Olivia learned she'd been picked up in a raid on a house occupied by a known drug trafficker. Instead of booking her, the seasoned arresting officer opted instead to call Special Victims.

Gradually, Olivia extracted her story. It was like so many others, yet no less tragic. She'd fled an abusive home as a teenager and eventually made her way to New York where a "friend" introduced her to another "friend" who promised work and a roof over her head. Soon, she became the de facto property of one of the region's most notorious street gangs.

"Do you have anyone you can stay with?" Olivia asked softly.

"Am I going to jail?"

"No. You're not. But you will have to cooperate with the detectives."

"Testify in court?"

"Not always," Olivia said, "But maybe. And, that's a long ways away. Let's focus on right now and where you can go to be safe and take care of yourself."

Kamara clutched her threadbare jacket to her chest. "I ain't got nowhere to go. Not here."

"If not here," Olivia replied, "Then where?"

"I got a Grandma in Boston," she said.

"Do you know how to contact her? Could you stay with her?"

"Yeah."

Olivia slid her the phone. Kamara picked up the receiver and dialed the number from memory. Fighting emotions, Olivia listened as Kamara spoke to her Grandmother. She tearfully explained that she'd fled her mother's home but now had no place to go. Olivia heard the older woman's pleas before Kamara hung up and reported her Grandmother had demanded she come to Boston.

"We can have you there tomorrow morning," Olivia said.

Kamara looked herself up and down and tears welled in her eyes. The Center's budget did not allow for many hotel room purchases, but this young women certainly warranted one. Before boarding the train tomorrow, she could have a hot shower, a hearty meal, and a good night's sleep.

Accurately predicting her apprehension, Olivia continued, "We can get you some new clothes. And tonight we have a place for you to stay. I can have one of our caseworkers follow up with you over the phone," Olivia handed over her card, "and I'm only a call away."

Kamara nodded.

Olivia made another phone call, this time to one of several big-chain hotels with which the Center partnered. They offered reasonable rates but were three-star establishments in well-populated, safe locations.

"C'mon," she said after hanging up with a clerk at a Holiday Inn near Penn Station, "I'll drive you and make sure you get situated. We can get food on the way."

Once again, Kamara nodded. But, this time, she mumbled a barely coherent, "thank you."

"You're welcome," Olivia said, "This time tomorrow, you'll be with Grandma. That is what you want, right?"

"Yes."

"Good."

"I don't have to do nothin else?"

"Other than answer the detectives' calls, no. Just...take care of yourself," she handed Kamara a stapled collection of papers. One of which listed numbers she could call in Boston for counseling and other support.

"Okay."

Olivia shouldered her bag, "What would you like for dinner?"

Kamara shrugged and didn't answer the question. Instead, she gestured toward the framed photographs on Olivia's desk. "Those your kids?"

"Yes," Olivia answered proudly.

"Where're they now?"

"With their Dad," Olivia replied and quickly added, "My husband." Olivia swallowed the lump in her throat. Kamara was emerging from the lowest, darkest point in her life and she grinned uncontrollably at the image of Noah, Maggie, and Wyatt piled at the end of one of Central Park's slides. Other than the tears, it was the only emotion she'd shown in the three hours she'd spent at the Center.

"They all look like you."

Olivia smiled graciously.

"Santa's comin," Kamara remarked.

"Yeah he is," Olivia replied, "Now, how about food?"

"I don't know how I'm gonna do alone tonight," Kamara said.

"I'll tell you what," Olivia put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "I'll wait with you until you're comfortable, and then I'll have an officer check on you every hour and take you to the train in the morning. How about that?"

Kamara mumbled a hesitant, "Okay."

"Let's go. I promise you, it'll get better from here."

…..

Olivia was running late and futilely jabbed at her floor's elevator button as if it would make the car go faster. Noah hadn't eaten, Lucy was late for her Thursday night seminar-her only class of the semester-and Ed would be arriving any minute. She assessed her attire. It would save time if she went out on their date wearing work clothes, but she desperately wanted to change. She yanked out her phone on the way to her door. No return text from Ed.

Maybe, she thought, he was running late, too.

As soon as she turned her key in the lock, she knew that wasn't the case.

"G'shot!" Noah exclaimed. "My tuh!"

"Okay, pal," Ed replied, "Let's line ya up."

At some point that afternoon or evening, Noah had acquired a velcro bow-and-arrow set and he and Ed were target shooting in the middle of the living room. As soon as Ed heard Olivia enter, he swiveled in her direction, taking Noah with him, and grinned. "Hey there."

"Hey yourself," Olivia said. "Um, where's Lucy?"

"Arr'a, Mama!" Noah ran to Olivia, handed her the projectile, and pointed to the target. "Aim dere!"

"I will, sweet boy." Olivia grabbed the plastic bow and took a shot. She missed and the arrow caromed off the window. "Oops."

"Just need a few practice shots." Ed rose to his feet and greeted his girlfriend with a tender kiss. His eyes were closed and, as they parted, he raised his lids slowly and whispered, "Hi."

"Hi."

"And, to answer your question, I got here a little early, hope ya don't mind."

"I don't."

"And Sarah and Brooke'll be here in a few minutes. I'm surprised you didn't run into them."

"It's so nice of them to babysit."

"They owe me."

Olivia grinned. "Where are we going, anyway?" Their schedules had been tight but Ed insisted on her keeping this particular night open.

Ed walked over to the coat rack and pulled an envelope out of his coat pocket, "I have third row tickets to the Rockettes," he said.

"Oh...wow…"

"Now don't get too excited," he said, "I won 'em."

Olivia laughed. "Well, I'm glad I can tag along on your night of misery."

"Nah," Ed replied, "I'm happy to go," he gave her another kiss, but made it quick. She still hadn't removed her coat, "But even happier to go with you."

Suddenly, the stress of the day was forgotten. Olivia felt lighter than she'd been in years. She grinned at Ed, excused herself to change, and appeared seconds before Brooke and Sarah arrived in fresh makeup, skinny black jeans, and the leather jacket she rarely had a chance to wear. Taken aback, Ed's jaw dropped and he stumbled backwards when he saw the edgy look.

"Damn," he murmured under his breath, conscious of Noah's keen ears.

"What?" Olivia asked innocently.

Recovering and managing to play it cool, Ed shrugged, "Nothin...you, uh, set the world record for gettin' ready."

Olivia laughed.

"Ok, I'm a bad liar," Ed reached for her hands and swung their arms between them, "You. Are. Gorgeous."

Olivia grinned. "Thank you."

"Seriously," he continued, "You're always beautiful, but, this…" he played with the lapel of her jacket, "This is making me wanna skip the show."

Olivia cocked her head, "We can go back to your place after?"

"Was gonna buy ya dinner."

"We can get that to go, right?"

Ed poked the inside of his mouth with his tongue. His eyes traveled up and down her body. He could barely breathe, but he leaned in for another kiss and croaked, "Right."

….

Olivia had trouble finding a parking spot for the family's SUV, so she had to park several blocks away from their building on one of the few streets in Manhattan that were deserted after five p.m.

She walked a few blocks, and, after waiting to cross 57th Street, decided to stop into their regular pub for a drink before heading home. The bar was dark, not busy, and the bartender brought her the Jameson's quickly and with no small talk. Olivia rolled the glass in her hands and sorted out her thoughts. She should have gone straight home. After all, she'd missed yet another day in the twins' lives. But she couldn't go straight home. Not after the day she'd had. She needed to decompress. To let herself feel all the emotions she felt during SVU investigations and, eventually, to let go of the unbearable weight they left upon her shoulders.

The whiskey burned her throat, but the warmth it provided after that initial sting was welcome. After another sip, Olivia felt her body relax. She began to accept that Kamara was probably not going to get on that train tomorrow... Kamara was probably not even going to be in that hotel room when the appointed officer checked on her in a few hours. No, Kamara was going to eat the burger and fries Olivia purchased for her, maybe catch a short nap, and go right back to what she'd known for the past five years. Recovery was not as easy or as simple as what the Center made it seem in its literature to its patrons and donors. Olivia was more frequently wrestling with that reality as the Center generated more frequent and more generous donations. Money could buy a lot of things, but it couldn't undo trauma and all its repercussions.

"One more," Olivia said to the bartender when he came around. It was still early. She sent Ed a text, telling him she'd be home soon, with dinner, since he'd shouldered the entirety of parenting duties for the day. Seconds after she sent the message she realized she'd forgotten to ask him how he was feeling, so she added a "do you need anything else" to which he'd replied in the negative. While she had the phone out, she placed a take out order and asked for another drink and the check.

Before leaving the pub, she called Rollins. "Hey...any word on whether or not the unis kept an eye on Kamara?"

"Yeah," Rollins said slowly, "She wasn't there when they checked in initially."

Olivia chuckled sarcastically, "Well, I'm losing my touch," she said, "I predicted five or six hours."

Rollins' shrug was almost audible through the phone, "We always have to hope the next one's different. If we didn't, why are we even here?"

"Why are we…"

"You okay, Liv?"

"Yes," Olivia adjusted her scarf and set out toward home, "I'm fine."

…..

Coffee and hot chocolate had been poured and small plates were filled with breakfast carbohydrates. Ed and Olivia manned their traditional posts seated against the back of the couch, facing the Christmas tree. At Ed's side was a large black trash bag that would quickly fill with shards of wrapping paper, bows, and ribbon.

"Who's Santa this year?"

All three kids shouted "ME!"

"We have so many presents," Olivia said, "Why don't we trade off?"

"Kay," Noah said. He plopped down on the floor with his hot chocolate and bit into a sesame bagel, perfectly content to wait for his chance at playing Santa.

"You can be Santa first, Maggs," Wyatt said, offering his sister the red and white hat.

Maggie grinned. "Kay! Youngest to oldest or oldest to youngest?"

"Youngest to oldest," Noah said.

"Then Wyatt, here's yours! It's from Mom and Dad," Maggie dropped a large box into her brother's lap, "You were born AFTER me!"

Ed grabbed Olivia's hand. The twins loved to tease each other about who was oldest and youngest, but they didn't know of the brief panic surrounding Wyatt's birth. Noah vaguely remembered not being allowed to see Wyatt right away, but he, of course, didn't understand why at the time, and the subject had never been brought up since. Though she'd been rushed for the emergency C-Section and her body underwent unimaginable trauma that day, Olivia, then and always, had always been grateful that both her babies had been born alive and healthy. Nevertheless, she would always be a tiny bit more protective of Wyatt and sensitive at stories of his birth.

Wyatt grinned and his chubby cheeks took on an endearing flush as he tore into the first gift. His breath caught in his throat when he caught the first glimpse of the picture on the box and he bellowed, "WHOA!" It was an indoor basketball set that calculated baskets made. Like his siblings, Wyatt loved basketball. He loved to play, but ever since he was old enough to count, he was particularly obsessed with the statistical side of the game. It wasn't uncommon for the Tuckers to leave Madison Square Garden and hear Wyatt rattle off numbers of free throws attempted and made.

"Thank you!" Wyatt said in a shaky voice. For reasons unknown, he was so overwhelmed he almost started to cry.

"You're welcome, bud," Ed snaked an arm around Wyatt's neck and kissed the top of his head, "Mom and I know ya like that game." Ed was referring to the touristy Dave and Busters where they took the kids every so often.

"I really like that game," Wyatt said, his voice back to normal.

"Okay," Maggie clapped her hands, having had enough of the semi-sappy moment, "I'm NEXT!"

…

The lunch plans never materialized, but Olivia got a hero's welcome when she arrived at home with tacos. Other than pizza, tacos were the family's favorite meal, and Noah eagerly tore into the bags and unwrapped the steaming foil packets while Ed and Olivia arranged plates and napkins.

"You get rice, Mommy?"

"Yes, in the bottom of the bag."

"YUMMY!"

The three kids were oblivious to the mild strain in their parents' relationship, and they were their normal, chatty selves around the dinner table. Noah's school tales all involved holiday celebrations and he spoke joyously of a book involving a dreidel song and mentioned his class would be performing a similar number for the holiday concert. He walked the twins through the lyrics of Up on the House Top, and decided they should watch Alvin and the Chipmunks after dinner. Olivia and Ed participated in the conversation when necessary, but rarely with each other. It was their normal go-to response when things weren't quite right between them-focus on the kids, wait until they were in bed, hash out their differences later. Only this time, later was not meant to happen on that night.

During a few seconds of quiet, Ed heard his phone ringing. He jogged into the bedroom and picked up immediately. Olivia heard him say "Hey Ma," and then "WHAT?" and then "I'll be right there, get outta the house."

When he returned to the table, Olivia and Noah were waiting for him with wide, concerned eyes.

"What's wrong?" Olivia asked.

"Gramma okay?"

"She's okay," Ed replied, "But somethin' behind her oven was sparking. She's goin' over to the neighbors until I get there."

"Can I come?" Noah asked.

"Not this time bud. I don't know what's wrong and I want you to stay here where you're safe, alright? We might have to have the firemen come," he turned to Olivia, "At the very least I may need to cut her electricity."

"Bring her back here then," Olivia said.

Ed nodded and murmured, "Yeah, I will. I'll keep ya posted." He squeezed Olivia's shoulder on his way to the foyer.

His departure left a noticeable void at the table, so Olivia did her best to regain the cheer, "How about we have dessert?" She said, noticing their almost-empty plates.

"What we gonna have?" Noah asked.

Olivia knew they had some muffin and cake mixes in the pantry and she mentioned them to Noah, "Why don't you pick one out? I'll get Maggs and Wyatt cleaned up, we'll make the dessert, and start the movie while it bakes."

"Kay!"

Olivia collected the plates and leftovers and returned to the table to wipe the twins' hands and faces.

"I ea' taco, Mama," Wyatt said, his sweet voice muffled by the washcloth.

Olivia kissed him and grinned, "Was it good? Good taco?"

"G'Taco!"

"MORE TACO!" Maggie growled hilariously before Olivia descended upon her.

"More taco?"

"Peeeease, Mama!" Maggie stared at Olivia with desperation etched all over her sweet two-year-old face.

"No problem, sweet girl," Olivia quickly brought a half of another taco to her daughter, "You can have as many tacos as you want."

….

#Tuckson

Well, I lied. I updated because our flight was delayed and then canceled today...silver linings. I still have more Christmasy Tuckson in mind, so hopefully you're not too weary of the holidays come January!