A/N: Okay, wasn't "Paternity" awesome? Loved those E/O moments ("the hug") and let's face it: who didn't already know Liv was heroic! But as wonderful as it was, it didn't happen people. Not in this story's world. Hopefully my update has not taken so long that you have to go back to Chapter 12 to remember where we left off!

The first days at the One-Six that week had proven trying. Late Sunday night a call had come in for a raped and tortured prostitute named Seneca Cameron found dead in a stairwell near Times Square. Hours passed as they worked towards defining a suspect and none of the detectives received, or wanted, a break until well into Monday evening. They'd worked tirelessly, dedicated to bringing Seneca some justice. Just a kid from Oklahoma trying to make it big on Broadway, it had broken Olivia's heart to see Seneca's parents breakdown after identifying the body Monday afternoon. They'd caught a flight Monday morning and had gone straight to the morgue from the airport, still shell-shocked from the news that their baby girl was never coming home for Thanksgiving like they'd planned.

It was Seneca's parents that gave the detectives the breakthrough they needed. Although they'd had no idea of their daughter's "night job", they told Captain Cragen that their daughter had spoken of a man harassing her. Someone Seneca had "met at work named Phillip Butler". Seneca had even been contemplating taking legal action.

Not surprisingly, it turns out Mr. Butler was a hard man to find those days. His apartment was a pig sty, but void of any occupant and his employer hadn't seen him since Friday. At last one of Phillip's "loyal" friends tipped Elliot off about a certain bar Phillip liked to frequent. Sure enough, at 11:30 Monday night, there was Butler on a barstool, nursing his guilty conscience.

The detectives split up—Elliot and Olivia and Chester were commanded to go home to sleep, while Munch and Fin brought their new buddy Phil in for questioning all night. By the time the rested three returned late Tuesday morning, Phillip had been singing his confession to the A.D.A.'s delight and was ready to officially plead guilty.

"Feels good to know that at least the Camerons can go home knowing their daughter's killer is going to trial," said Lake.

"Yeah, I'm sure their Thanksgiving is going to be real wonderful now," Munch grumbled cynically as he grabbed his overcoat and prepared to leave.

"That's not what I meant—", Chester began.

Seeing John leave, Olivia tried to reassure the newer detective. "Don't worry about him. He's just tired. And don't let him fool you. He's as relieved as you are for Mr. and Mrs. Cameron."

The remainder of the day was unusually quiet, giving the detectives an opportunity to finish up on paperwork. As evening drew near, Cragen entered the bullpen with an announcement.

"At this blessed rate, I don't think it's necessary that everyone needs to work in the office over the holiday. Munch, Fin, Olivia, you come in tomorrow to work and then you'll have Thanksgiving off before you come back on Friday. Elliot and Chester, enjoy the break tomorrow because it's your year to work on Thursday and on-call Friday."

Elliot gestured compliance without argument, but it was obvious he was disappointed he wouldn't be with his children.

"Captain, I'd already planned on working Thursday," Olivia spoke up, almost timidly.

"Why? I never told you I needed you here."

"I just assumed. I've worked on Thanksgiving nearly every year."

"Yeah, but that was always voluntary because you claimed you didn't have anywhere else to be. Aren't you going to be with your brother?"

"Yes, but because I thought I was working, Simon arranged to have their Thanksgiving dinner on Friday instead," Olivia explained. "Since my schedule is already worked out, let someone else have the day off. I don't mind, really, and then I could be on-call Friday."

Rubbing his bald head, Cragen shrugged his shoulders. "Sounds fine to me. Detective Stabler, it looks like you'll get to carve the bird after all. Now everyone go home." Pointing to Munch and Fin as he turned back to his office, Captain finished with, "I'll see you two tomorrow morning with Elliot. And don't be late!"

Biding his time until everyone else had left, Elliot walked Olivia out.

"You didn't have to do that, you know," Elliot said, referring to Olivia's generous shift exchange.

"Of course! I'd already arranged to spend Friday with Simon, so it worked out best for all of us. I'm just happy you'll get to be with your family," Olivia smiled, but avoided eye contact.

"Oh, damn!" Olivia blurted. Elliot looked at her quizzically. "I forgot my scarf! You go ahead. I'm gonna go back and get it."

Pulling on her gloves, she was surprised when Elliot stopped her and tenderly placed his hand on her neck. Giving it a soft squeeze, he smiled and said, "You're a good person, Liv. I hope you know that." Then he quickened his pace and caught the elevator with Munch before it closed. "Good night, Liv. Happy Thanksgiving."

Shaken from Elliot's gesture of affection, Olivia walked back to the coat rack for a scarf she already knew wasn't there. She'd known from the start she hadn't worn a scarf today, but she couldn't stand to hear him thank her for letting him be with his family. And then to make matters worse, he had branded his fingerprints on the side of her neck. Without thinking, Olivia placed her hand where his hand been not even a minute earlier. Her skin felt like it was on fire. She almost worried her own fingers would smolder by touching it. Unable to move, her eyes focusing on nothing in particular. He never touched her. Never in nine years. It just wasn't something that they did. For a while, Olivia had wondered why they were so afraid of personal contact with each other. But then after Gitano, she realized that subconsciously, they both knew that keeping the distance, that final line drawn, and uncrossed, served as the only barrier stopping them. That avoiding the smallest brush of skin, the most insignificant touch was imperative to avoiding full-on grabbing, needing, reaching. Taking possession. And now, ever since Blackner, he kept touching her. It wasn't just unsettling. It was caustic and destructive. Slowly chipping away at her self-preservation tactics until she feared she'd have none left and then what? She'd still be alone, only this time too weak to absorb the shock because any remaining dignity or confidence would be too miniscule to buoy her up. She'd sink in her own self-pity. And loneliness. She was always left alone.

"Olivia?" The sound of her own name was startling, and surprisingly foreign. It took her a full second to register that the voice was speaking to her, and from whom the voice was coming. She turned towards it and did her best to smile.

"Yeah, Cap?"

Concern spread across Cragen's face as he placed his hands on his hips. "Are you okay? I thought I sent you home."

"Uh, yeah," Olivia spoke as though she was confused, as though she'd be nothing but okay. "I just forgot my scarf."

"Did you lose it? I don't see it on the coat rack."

"I mean, I thought I forgot it so I came back for it, but I just remembered I didn't bring it today." Shit. Could she fumble through this conversation any more stupidly?

Raising an eyebrow, Cragen humored her. "Mm-Hm. Good night, Detective. Try to relax on your day off."

And relax she did. Other than a quick grocery run, because as usual her fridge looked empty and she needed ingredients for a salad she was taking to Simon's on Friday, Olivia made a point not to go out. Instead she ran on her treadmill for an hour, and then spent the day leisurely taking a bubble bath, watching reruns on TV Land, and drinking tall mugs of tea. She ended the day sitting on her window bench with Tony Bennett serenading her in the background. She watched the little girl in the apartment across the street help her parents put up the Christmas tree. Olivia thought it was odd that they were erecting a Christmas decoration in preparation for a Thanksgiving holiday, but then decided that she was grateful that little girl had that kind of family, and those kind of experiences, and that it didn't matter how early they put their tree up. Just as long as they did it and that little girl could have the memory of it.

The next morning she strode into work at eight o'clock surprised to find Chester sitting at his desk filing papers already.

"Well, aren't we the over-achiever?" Olivia teased. "By the looks of the pile you've completed you didn't just arrive. How long have you been here?"

"Not too bad. Only a couple hours."

"Why so early? Don't you need your beauty sleep?"

"Need it, yeah. But I don't get it." Stretching his arms above his head and rolling his head around, Olivia flinched when she heard Lake's neck pop. "I couldn't sleep, so I walked around a bit and then figured I might as well be getting some work done. So I came here."

"Ah, insomnia. It's a bitch, ain't it?"

"You, too?" Lake leaned over his desk, interested to know he wasn't the only one awake at two a.m. every day.

"Everyone here has trouble sleeping. Who wouldn't?" Now Olivia leaned over, as if she had some great undisclosed detail to tell. "But I became friends with Ambien a long time ago, so now it's not as big of a problem."

Both detectives sat up straighter, now that the cat was out of the bag. "I warn you though, it's not a cure-all. I still have my fair share of nights when what I've seen is still too much, even for prescription-strength. Or worse yet, there are the nights when sleeping only makes it worse, because you see the vics in your dreams."

Lake's phone rang then, ending the conversation. They both got back to work. Surprisingly, it was a quiet day. It appeared that even criminals took the day off on Thanksgiving.

--------------------------------

Unfortunately for Elliot, his Thanksgiving wasn't that uneventful. It had started out just fine. The kids had been ecstatic to know that their father wasn't going into work, and the looks on their faces only implanted even more Elliot's gratitude for Olivia's unselfishness. It also put her face in his head, and when that happened it seemed to take hours for her to leave. He thought about all the Thanksgivings she'd spent alone. All the Christmases. She'd come to their house once for the feast, and even though he'd known she was grateful for the invitation, she'd been uncomfortable the entire time. Out of her element. As if it was something new to her, something she'd never known. Elliot hated Olivia's mother for never providing her the opportunity to enjoy a Thanksgiving meal around a crowded table, with kids running around, making too much noise, being too hyper. The family helping clear the table and doing dishes. Putting leftover food into Tupperware and trying to find room in the fridge for it all. Watching football or movies after the meal. Everyone commenting how full they are, and yet having two slices of pie instead of one because they all look too good to only try one kind. Damn that Serena Benson for not letting her daughter have that kind of life, that kind of love! Because if anyone deserved it, it was Olivia. It was beyond Elliot how Olivia didn't grow up hard and bitter. He thanked God that at least she was able to rise above and become the woman that she was: dedicated, compassionate, selfless.

Everyone was ready to leave by three. Everyone but Kathy. Elliot sent the kids to the car while he went upstairs to check on her. When he found her, she was dressed, but her hair was still wet from the shower and her make-up not on.

"Kathy, why aren't you ready?" Elliot asked in a gentle voice. He'd learned quickly over the past couple weeks to handle her with kid gloves. That the slightest tone of accusation or frustration only set off her emotions even more. "The kids are all in the car, ready to go to your mothers for dinner."

When she made no effort to move, or even blink, Elliot sat next to her on the bed.

"Is there something I can do to help you get ready? Would you like me to blow-dry your hair? You can take your make-up with you in the car—"

"I'm not going, Elliot."

Elliot had worried this would happen.

"Kathy, it's Thanksgiving. The kids need you." He sighed, praying to God that he'd know what to say to get through to her. "I…I know you're going through something right now. I don't know what it is. I wish you'd tell me—"

Kathy opened her mouth to speak, turning to look at him for the first time. Elliot stopped her, raising his hand to indicate he wasn't finished.

"I wish you'd tell me, but I know you're not ready. When you are, I hope you know that I love you and we can work through it. Until then, I'm willing to give you the time and space you need. This stress is not good for you or the baby."

Taking a deep breath, which he hoped would bring on more patience, he continued. "That said, however, today is a day which families spend together. Your children need you. And I think it would be good for you to be with family. Your mother. We don't have to stay long—"

"I lied to you about this baby, Elliot!"

Covering her mouth with her hand as if her voice had spoken without her approval, Kathy turned from Elliot in shame.

Unsure if he'd heard her correctly, Elliot did his best to continue demonstrating patience. With a voice so level it surprised even himself, Elliot asked, "What did you say? What are you talking about?"

"You heard me. Don't make me say it twice," Kathy answered, eerily calm. Or perhaps it was more resolved. Resolve for and accepting of the consequences of her confession.

Without saying a word, Elliot turned and stepped slowly down the stairs. He felt as though he was operating on auto-pilot, even to breathe. Opening the front door, he motioned at the car for Maureen to come to him. Exiting the vehicle, she came closer.

"What's up, Dad? Where's Mom? We've been waiting—"

"Your mother isn't feeling well. I'm going to stay here with her."

"But Dad—"

"This isn't the time to argue, Maur. You go ahead to Grandma's and maybe we'll be by later, okay? I'm really sorry, honey. Please explain to Grandma, alright?"

Hesitating with disappointment, but knowing there was no point in discussing it further, Maureen nodded and gave him a hug.

"This is a crappy way to spend Thanksgiving," she complained as Elliot's arms wrapped around his eldest daughter.

"I know, honey. But we've got to make the most of it." Walking her back to the car, he ducked down to Kathleen's open window. "Mom and I are staying here until she's feeling better. Maureen's driving you to Grandma's and she's in charge. Don't give her too much grief, okay guys? And help your grandmother with the meal and dishes."

Unison complaints drifted from the back of the SUV where Liz and Dickie sat. Kathleen merely opened her door from the back so she could switch seats to the front passenger.

"Whatever, Dad. Nothing else has been like a normal family for years. Why start now?" Rolling her eyes at him with exasperation, she slammed her door shut before he could try to explain.

When he was sure the SUV had cleared the corner and he was out of his children's sight, he sat on the front stoop already feeling drained from a conversation that was yet to be had.

This can't be happening, he thought. There is no way I watched that child grow in her belly for the past eight months and not know it wasn't mine. It's not true. It can't be true. She's just had too much. She's finally broken, gone over the edge.

Continuing his denial, he decided to return to the bedroom in an attempt to bring her back.