Title: Making a Connection, Chapter 6

Author: Sorsha711
Fandom/Pairing: Munch/OFC, O/E
Rating: M, for language and references to violence; some adult situations
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to Dick Wolf. Sigh!
Summary: Across a crowded coffee-shop… yadda, yadda, yadda. A Munch romance with a generous side of O/E; Post "Uncle" so Spoiler warnings if you've not see that episode

Making a Connection, Chapter 6

"I take it you would rather be someplace other than being stuck in a car with me on stakeout?" Olivia asked. She hadn't missed the number of times Munch had looked at his watch in the past hour, nor had she missed his uncharacteristic lack of free flowing commentary on any and every topic that occurred to his active mind. They had not spoken in over an hour and her curiosity had finally gotten the better of her.

"You're trying to tell me stakeout duty is something you enjoy?" John groused. "I suppose following this sick son-of-a-bitch was how you planned to spend tonight… hell, most of the past week?"

Shaking her head, Olivia admitted, "Much as I enjoy your company… no, it's not. I had big plans for my evening I'll have you know… take-out Chinese and a long hot bath before going to bed early for once. What about you?"

Sighing, John looked over at his friend and partner for the evening. "I had plans… though going to bed early would have been a nice addition. I've had plans for most of this week that got trashed by this bastard."

"And tonight's plan was...?"

"I was going to the jazz concert in Central Park," he hedged.

"Alone?"

"Why all the questions, Livvie?" John asked, reaching for his cup of coffee. Grimacing to find it had grown cold, he observed, "I don't recall you taking this much interest in my social life before."

"I don't remember the last time you had a social life for me to take an interest in, John," she retorted, a teasing smile on her face taking the bite out of her comment. "So, who is she?"

"And I need to answer that because…?"

"Let's see... because I'm your friend and I care… because I've been dying of curiosity for weeks and managed to restrain myself this long… and because I'll drive you crazy before dawn by asking over and over and over…" she smirked.

Throwing up his hands in mock surrender, he offered, "OK, I give! Her name is Arwen. We met at a coffee shop near where we both live. She's a few years older than you, widowed with twin sons in college. We've been seeing each other for a little over three months now and… she's special."

"Really? How special?" she teased.

"Very special," he retorted. "And, before you ask, the going to bed early part is still on my 'wish list'. We decided to go slow and get to know each other first… build a relationship."

Holding his gaze for a moment, Olivia smiled genuinely. "I'm happy for you, John. Do we get to meet her anytime soon?"

Touched by her affectionate response, he nodded his head. "She's coming to the awards banquet with me later this month."

"Well, you are one of the honorees, so a lovely lady on your arm is to be expected," she approved. "You have warned her that it's conservative-formal, right?"

Rolling his eyes, John smirked. "I have had a date before, Det. Benson. I didn't just fall off the turnip truck from Baltimore."

Grinning unrepentantly, she retaliated, "And Charm City doesn't mean charm school, Det. Munch. I didn't want your lady friend to be embarrassed by showing up underdressed or wearing something too flashy. We've both seen that happen enough times."

"Point taken. Do you remember that woman Erickson brought two years ago? I'd still like to know what street corner he found her working! Couldn't have been a high-price one!" John agreed chuckling at the memory. "Arwen has conservative-formal running in her veins, so she's not likely to flash the table it she leans over too far."

"I didn't notice the guys at Erickson's table complaining when his date's dress went south. They seemed to think it was the highlight of the evening!" Olivia chuckled. "So… conservative-formal runs in her veins?"

Growing serious, he admitted, "Arwen's an economist at the UN. Her father is a retired Naval officer; made it to Vice-Admiral before he retired. Her mom is a Savannah deb; she's a deb herself… something she bitterly opposed, but her parents ignored her opinion. She's been to more than a few formal events, so I don't think she'll embarrass me. More likely to be the other way around."

"Impressive. How'd you land a blue-blood?"

Glaring at her, John defended, "She's not like that. She had a falling out with her family over the man she married and had to go it alone after he was killed in Grenada… raised her sons pretty much by herself. She put herself through grad school and worked two jobs to pay the bills… at the Federal Reserve during the day and as a proof-reader for a small publishing house in DC at night once her sons were in bed. She hasn't had much time for herself until now. Arwen is very real and down-to-earth. You'll like her."

"An economist? I can barely spell that much less hold up my end of a conversation about it!" Olivia joked. "OK, I'm convinced she won't show up in a micro-mini glittery tube dress and stiletto heels! Why didn't her family approve of her husband?"

Holding her gaze, he offered, "He was African-American. Her dad in particular had a problem with his little girl being with a black man and their relationship fell apart from there… not that it seems to have ever been all that good. And, before you ask, her dad is from California, so it wasn't a southern thing."

Nodding, Olivia asked. "Have you met her sons yet?"

Sighing, John shook his head. "I've talked to them on the phone, but not in person yet. Dan is in Ithaca attending Cornell and Rob is in North Carolina at Duke. They won't be coming home until Thanksgiving. She's planning a big family dinner and has already asked what I think about asking all of you to join us."

"Wow… that would be nice if she's up for that. I haven't been to a real Thanksgiving dinner in… years," Olivia admitted. "Are you two that serious about each other?"

"If she thinks I'm comfortable with inviting all of you… and your reaction tells me it's a good idea, she'll do it. She wants to get to know my friends… knows you are like family to me. Besides, I'll be surrounded by her family… including her in-laws, if you guys don't come." A small smile preceded, "And, I think we are… that serious, I mean. Honestly, I'm scared to say anything at this point for fear of jinxing it. I've never known anyone quite like her and… she's special."

"Damn… what a sight! John Munch in love!" she smiled. "I'm happy for you, John! I really am!"

Fixing her with a probing stare, he asked, "What about you? Are you and Elliot going to stop pretending you aren't crazy about each other anytime soon?"

Sighing, she sank back into her seat, leaning her head against the backrest. "I stopped pretending a long time ago, my friend… but Elliot isn't there yet. We've talked… well, sort of talked, but he's still trying to come to terms with his divorce. It won't be final for another month. His… fling with Dani hasn't helped us. He feels guilty and I feel betrayed. It's complicated."

Reaching over to lay a comforting hand on her arm, John observed, "Love always is, Olivia. Give him a little more time. Elliot never expected to be divorced… it wasn't a possibility in his mind. If Kathy hadn't made the first move and filed the papers, he'd still be denying their marriage failed… ended for all practical purposes years ago."

"I know, but his affair hurts," she murmured.

Nodding, John agreed. "Of course it does, but it's not like he went out bar-hopping, looking for a one-night stand. He and Dani were both lonely and it was convenient; the affair was a mistake for both of them. I'm not saying you don't have the right to feel hurt about it, but she's no threat to you. In some ways, he finally woke and admitted his feelings for you after he realized what he had jeopardized having that affair."

"I guess, but it's still hard. It's not that I don't trust him… I do; it's that I wanted to be the one," she whispered. "The last year was so… painful and uncertain. I guess it never entered my mind he might sleep with someone else."

"You haven't dated anyone in… two years?"

"About that. Why bother? I want Elliot. It was more frustrating than it was worth pretending I was interested enough to go through the motions of dating someone else," Olivia confessed.

Nodding, John admitted, "I know the feeling. I pretty much stopped trying six years ago… after Sara Logan was killed. I just didn't want to get hurt again, so I gave up. She and I… it might have worked."

"We all saw that," she agreed, patting his hand on her arm. "And, I expect Monique's problems didn't help either."

"Probably not. She got a raw deal… but she was in trouble. None of us saw that until that damned shrink pointed it out," John mused. "I hated to see her leave, but it turned out to be the best thing for her in the long run. She went to law school, settled down… met a great guy. Did I tell you she's expecting?"

"Really? That's great!" Olivia smiled. "When's she due?"

"End of the year. They're hoping for a Christmas baby," he offered, grinning. "It's a girl by the way."

"Give me her email address so I can send her a note."

"Sure." Studying her profile, John nudged, "We got distracted. So… how you doing, partner?"

"Honestly?"

"I'd prefer that," he gently chided.

"I'm tired of waiting, John. I know who I want to spend my life with and…" she began. "I feel I have to hide everything, pretend its all OK, and smile. Tired sums it up."

Pulling her hand into comforting clasp, John offered, "You don't have to hide what you're going through from your friends. You can talk to me anytime you want. Same is true for the rest of us. You and Casey are close. Do you talk to her?"

Grinning, she teased, "We're woman… of course we talk!"

Chuckling, he agreed. "What was I thinking to have to ask??"

"Still, it's nice to talk to a man. I need that prospective."

Squeezing her hand, he looked back at the building they were watching to see if there was any action. "Anytime, Liv, anytime."

"Thanks." Sighing, Olivia added, "Don and Fin suggested we all go 'stag' together to the banquet… not that Fin ever brings a date to that sort of thing; he hates having people speculate about his love life! I guess Don isn't serious about Sally or he'd want to bring her."

Reaching into the backseat for the thermos of hot coffee, she poured them both refills. "We didn't include you in the plan since we've been hoping you would bring your new lady. We've all been curious… except for Fin. Damn, but that man can keep a secret! We haven't been able to get anything out of him even when Don tried to bribe him with those éclairs he loves."

"Ah… I wondered why he brought the goodies from Zabars. He usually saves them for crunch time or when he's about to make one of us do something unpleasant… like dig through the cold cases files. He should have known Fin wouldn't talk… clams take lessons from Fin," John retorted, a grin on his face.

"So tell me some more about your lady," Olivia urged, fascinated by the smile her question inspired. It gave her a renewed sense of hope that things might eventually work out for her and Elliot. /If John Munch can let himself fall in love…/

"Its 'royal lady' actually… that's what her name means in Tolkien's elvish," John teased. "Arwen is a character in the Lord of the Rings books."

"Excuse me… I didn't realize you spoke elf." Chuckling, she added, "I should have known you were a Tolkien fan. I read them when I was in high school and college, but I didn't recognize the reference until you reminded me. I never found time to see the movies. I wonder if Elliot would like them? I could rent them and have a movie night for everybody."

"Sounds like fun. Arwen would love something like that. She's been looking for an excuse to have everybody over for a party or something." Looking her direction, he offered, "I wish I had a solution for your's and Elliot's problem. It sucks having to wait and be patient."

Nodding, she agreed. "Even if we finally get to the point where our relationship is more than talk, we'll still have to keep it under wraps. Neither of us wants to be transferred and if we went public, Don wouldn't have a choice but to send one of us to another division… rules are rules. As it is, he's already partnering you and me up more frequently."

"At least on stakeouts," John teased. "I think Don worries that you two will steam the windows up too much to be able to see the perps!"

Reaching over to smack his arm, Olivia pointed to a man emerging from the brownstone across from them. "Behave! There's our guy. Let's go."

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John paced the floor of his living room. The stakeout had paid off; their perp had led them to his 'playground'. The full horror of what they found inside the old warehouse had left even the veteran SVU squad members reeling. He and Olivia had spent the remainder of the night and much of the following day 'sweating their perp' for a full confession… and the location of any bodies they had yet to find.

John had arrived home less than an hour earlier. He had not slept in over 72 hours… had slept only a few scattered hours for the entirety of the past week. The mental barrier he had erected so that he could focus on his duties… not kill the bastard as he sat smugly across from them, proudly describing the atrocities he had committed, was fragile at best. He had no delusions that his sleeping mind would be able to keep it in place. He desperately needed to sleep, but he was unwilling to face the dreams that would come once the barrier fell.

His cell phone rang for the second time since he had gotten home. As he had before, he ignored it. Don had promised him that he would not be called back to the precinct under any circumstances. His commander had ordered both Olivia and himself to go home and get some sleep. He had told them to take the rest of the week off… regroup. The ever observant Cragen had seen the demons in both of his detectives' eyes and Munch had no doubt George Huang would be paying him a visit before he returned to work.

After pouring himself a double shot of vodka, he walked into his bedroom and stood before the room's only window. From his vantage point, he quickly found Arwen's third-story apartment… the window of her bedroom on the side of the building across the street from his. Taking a healthy sip of the vodka, he let it burn down his throat as he considered calling her. He needed to hear her voice, feel the warmth of her spirit spread through him… pray it could drive the numbing cold out of his.

Taking a second sip, he acknowledged he wouldn't make that call. As much as he needed to talk to her, the idea of exposing her to the filth and depravity that clung to him like leeches made him physically ill. It had always been a problem for him to allow the woman in his past near him after he had been immersed in a particularly ugly case. It had been one of the many reasons his marriages had all failed. As much as he had desired to protect them, the strength of his desire to protect Arwen stunned him.

A secret gnawing fear that had haunted him since his youth… the fear at the heart of those failed marriages swamped him. Since his father's suicide, he had worried that he had inherited the predisposition to depression that had driven his father to take his own life. His Uncle Andrew's psychotic break a year earlier had begun as depressive dementia. A man, one they suspected of being a sadistic killer, was dead because of that breakdown. Andrew had chosen to retreat into the prison of his own mind out of guilt and shame for his actions.

John had understood both emotions even as he had begged his uncle to allow himself to be treated. Munch had no self-delusions that he didn't exhibit the same depressive tendencies that had led to their fall. As much as it terrified him to contemplate such a fate alone, the idea of dragging someone he loved down with him terrified him more.

Sadly, he faced the inevitable; he would have to stop seeing her. She deserved someone that could meet her as an equal and allow her close without the fear of what he was fated to become harming her… someone that would not pollute her mind and spirit with the horrors his contained. With this thought came the final acknowledgement he had been avoiding; he had fallen in love with her… deeply and passionately in love.

Taking another sip of the potent alcohol, he promised himself he loved her enough to let her go… it was for her own good. He knew he would have to cut her out of his life ruthlessly; if he saw her again, he would be weak… would drag her into his arms and never let her go. He needed her too much; she was a light that offered hope against the darkness that loamed before him. He had to let her go before that happened and that meant using the coward's solution… a brief phone call made after several days of ignoring her and a complete end to their time together.

Downing the last of the vodka, he turned to go back into the living room to retrieve the bottle. Twisting off the top, John paused as the buzzer at his building's entrance door announced the arrival of a visitor. Glancing at the mantel clock, he noted that it was 3:40 in the morning, not an hour for casual visits.

Slamming the glass down on the table, he debated what to do next. /Damn! If that's Fin… I know he means well, but I don't need him hovering! I want… need Arwen, but I can't have her. Shit! I don't want anyone else./

Pouring vodka to the top of the glass, he debated ignoring the buzzer and simply returning to watching Arwen's window. /Saying good bye,/ he assured himself. He had taken a step in that direction when the buzzer sounded again… and held. His cell phone began to ring a third time.

Striding over to the box by the door, he pressed the button and bit out, "Go home, Fin! I don't need a nursemaid!"

"John? John… please let me come up."

Arwen's voice rocked him to his core. "Arwen… what are you doing here? It's the middle of the night!"

"I know. Let me come up, John. It's kind of scary down here by myself."

Concern for her safety overrode his plan to end their relationship without ever seeing her again. After pressing the button to admit her, John wrenched open his apartment door and was standing in the opening when she arrived at his floor. Seeing her step out of the elevator, her cell phone still in one hand, reminded him of just how dangerous the City could be. "Are you crazy? It's almost 4 in the morning? You're just making yourself an easy target for some sick bastard!"

Arwen stopped in front of him, close enough to feel the warmth of his body through his rumpled dress shirt. "I was worried about you. I know it's late but… you wouldn't answer your phone. I saw you get out of the taxi a little while ago, so I knew you weren't asleep yet. You wouldn't answer, so I had to come and make sure you were all right."

Surprised, he asked, "You were watching for me to get home?"

"Of course I was. You look so… John?" A tear slipped down her cheek as she reached to massage the tense muscles of his neck and shoulders. "I knew this case was a bad one, so I've tried to stay out of your way while you did your job. I knew you must have been close to finding him from the hours you've been working… when you had to cancel the concert. I've been worried about you. Then, I saw you tonight… last night, behind the Commissioner when he took credit for the arrest on the news. You looked so haunted."

Moving a little closer, she whispered, "Please let me in. You don't need to be alone right now."

Stunned, he stared into her eyes for several long seconds before his arms reached out to drag her to him. Wrapping her in a crushing embrace, John felt the restraint he had been struggling to maintain over his emotions begin to crumble. "Damn it, Arwen. I don't want to do this to you. You deserve better than a tired, old cop twisted by the shit I see every day. I've seen too much… you deserve better."

It took her several minutes to slowly back him into the apartment so that she could shut the door behind them with her foot. She had seen how close he was to breaking… the panic and grief consuming him from within. His panic fed hers. Pulling him to the floor, she wrapped herself around him as his control collapsed.

The sobs that racked his body were unlike any she had ever seen or experienced. Instinct told her he had been holding his emotions inside for too long for his own good… the horrors of each succeeding case, every failed relationship beginning with the one he had had with parents, every personal doubt that haunted him… they had been building like layers over the years.

In a moment of absolute clarity, she realized those layers were smothering his spirit. He desperately needed to free himself of their weight before they crushed him. Arwen only hoped that he would let her help him climb free and find himself again.

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A/N --- For the EO fans, this chapter is just a taste! More… a lot more actually, to come a few chapters down the line!

Thanks for reading! Reviews/feedback appreciated!