Chapter 3
Olivia walked into the squadroom the next morning experiencing the same warm, burning feel in the bottom of her stomach that always accompanied her daily march into that harshest of realities. To see evil everyday, truly look at it and call it out, defeat it so that others didn't suffer from it was what she lived for. Unfortunately, the evil couldn't be recognized until it had already deeded some malignancy on humanity, left some child broken or some person irrevocably erased. That was why she got up in the morning. To serve, protect, and though it wasn't in any oath she had ever taken, heal. That responsibility and conflict was the source of the burning , warming stomach. She loved her job, really, but that didn't stop her from wishing that it was unnecessary. Of course, she thought wryly, without the people that made it necessary (i.e. child abusers, molesters, and a rather motley crew of rapists) she wouldn't exist. That thought, whenever it entered her head, made her want to explode with ironic jubilation. It's like some greek myth where the heroine is spawned from evil and then lives purely to destroy the evil that gave her life. See, she thought. Irony in its purest form.
She stepped up to her desk, the muscle in the middle of her back jumping slightly when she saw that her partner (and, if one wanted to put a fine point on it, best friend) wasn't in yet. She tamped down the annoyance she knew wasn't fair yet still existed towards him and sat down, huffing as she did so. Looking around and seeing everyone else already involved in the days affairs, she resignedly allowed the annoyance to creep back through her spine and shoulders. Good, she thought, my turn to be damn annoyed. Between yesterday's little revelation that Elliot had been playing the dating game in other governmental offices during his separation, his cryptic attempt at conversation last night, and his occupational tardiness , she had a few things to be irritated about.
"Damn" she said aloud (with enough volume that Fin looked up from his desk and glanced her way). She couldn't be aggravated with him about his slow arrival-it probably had something to do with the baby. Olivia had put her life on the line for the child, was the first one to hold him and notice that he had his dad's eyes, and therefore not only couldn't begrudge him for spending some extra time with his son, but felt a wave of understanding rush through her.
Ok, she thought, what about door number two. His little bombshell in immigration (she winced again, not knowing if she was referring to the woman or the information) was something she should be annoyed about. Definitely. But why? She knew he had dated a bit, but having it just dropped on her unexpectedly had not been pleasant. He was supposed to be her best friend, partner, comrade-since when did he not tell her about his life? Even though she had tried not to disclose her surprise yesterday, she had felt her body betray her. Her eyes, in fact, popped out of their sockets and turned to Elliot simultaneously all of their own accord. And that was the crux of that annoyance. She wasn't really annoyed with him. She was annoyed with herself because after the shock had come a surge of possessiveness that felt much like what she experienced when she thought of his anger as her part of him.
The cryptic conversation. There. Finally something that she could actually be a bit annoyed with. Yep, she wasn't going to find a reason for her annoyance about it, wasn't going to dissect it, but was simply going to hang on to that tiny excuse to feel a bit at odds with her partner.
"Olivia!" Cragen called from his office. "Dump job at Lexington and 5th, Elliot's already on his way." She stood up, her thoughts rapidly switching from her partner to the crime scene, and grabbed her keys and notepad. As she hurried out of the squadroom to the department sedan, she realized that the feeling in her stomach was back, the burning feeling quickly overpowering the warmth with the knowledge that another person had just been erased against their will.