AN: OH MY GOD- This update took me Forever! I had a serious case of "Not in the mood". I'm like never not in the mood to write, but it happened. My brain is fried. Like serious brain damage. Has anyone ever seen that movie? "Brain damage". I haven't, but there is a really funny promovideo of it on Youtube and it looks like it would be fun movie to watch if you liked laughing at bad horror movies. Sorry, this is by far the craziest AN, yet. So OT!

Anyway, Jenne- I need that frigg'n cookie, but something tells me that was more of a threat then a promise. Tell Greg he kicks arse!

Mrslee- where are you woman? You are MIA! Hello, I've been waiting for Senses. I don't believe you. You're not gonna update that shit. Pash!

Okay, so this is my crazy update. This sequel is becoming harder and harder to make funny. The subject matter is so serious. But there's a crazy little Asian woman in it. I LOVE Crazy old Asian people. They make me laugh and laugh. And that scene is almost word for word what happened to me one time at the post office. YARG. I'm saying too much. Me so sorry. But I will give you a heads up on pronunciation of a name. Remy Special. I have a little girl in one of my theater classes who's name is Special. Yeah, you read that right. It's said like Spe-Shall. ????? Somebody apparently thought this would make their daughter special, but really it just gave the poor girl a bad name. Too bad too, because she's really cute and talented. Oh Spe-shall, we love yeah!

Okay read!

New Soul

Olivia stands in her modern downtown kitchen starring at a pile of brochures and medical paperwork laid out on the island in the center of the room. Its late morning. The sun shines brightly through the windows and a strong smell of burning coffee is coming from a brewing pot in the corner. Her nose is scrunched and she leans over the paper work in deep concentration.

Tube damage…..or should I say Brain Damage. I stood looking at the medical pamphlets in front of me. They had more fine print then a warrant for the white house. Not to mention the frightening medical terms used to "fix" my situation. I had no idea how intricate pregnancy could actually be. All I wanted was a fair go at motherhood, a simple gift from the powers that be, and what I ended up with was a twisted mess of fallopian tubes. Apparently, mine were a fine mess of bad piping and half finished water slides. The news was more than a let down. Heartache and a pathway of options packaged with complicated words and expensive surgical procedures were what I was left with. Even after I sat in my car thinking and crying for over an hour the idea of having a man, other than Elliot, plant my seed was a bit revolting. Instead of dim lighting, soft stares, and a Hollywood ending, I would be getting Dr. Cox and a drafty hospital gown. It wasn't exactly how I pictured it. Neither were these pamphlets. The families on the front cover looked so unrealistically happy. They held their baby under words like Transvaginal Oocyte Retrieval, embryologist, cleaving, and Ovarian drilling. These weren't the lines I'd hoped to hear while my baby was being created. These words were more like the script to "Nightmare on Elm Street". My option had come down to test tubes, knives, needles, and rubber gloves. It's all so very impersonal. Sigh. Inverto. Even the name…Inverto ….feels sterol…horrific. Why couldn't it sound more romanticized? I think maybe being knocked out and knocked up would have made a better conception story than the one I'm thinking about journeying. And why do these kinds of things only seem to happen to me? I could blame myself for allowing my uterus to become lazy and old, but I'm sure it had everything to do with my bad genes and my mother's drinking problem. That's it, Liv, blame it on that again. It didn't matter how many hours I'd spent in therapy forgiving my parents; their transgressions would always remain a 'nice thought'.

Flash to Olivia running through a dark incinerator room screaming bloody murder. The word "Inverto" comes into focuses. The letters are in bloody font. A voice over begins. The voice is like that of a good sci-fi promotion.

Spooky voice over "The haunted nightmare continues and this time Freddie is in the shape of the product of rape."

Duhn Duhn DAHHHHHHHH!

Olivia: "Adoption was sounding better everyday."

Olivia's eyes cross and she throws the paperwork away from her face.

Olivia "Oh forget it."

Elliot "Forget what?"

Olivia "Huh-Ha- hi! You…you're home….early. It's not even lunchtime."

Before I could hide the evidence he'd already had it in his hands. The religious opinion formed and answered.

Elliot "Invetro? I thought we agreed we weren't into that."

Olivia "We did. The doctor gave it to me."

He saw it written all over my face like red sharpey marker. A clear view of my feelings.

Cut to close up of Liv's face ---BAM---a red stamp smashes itself onto her forehead. "DEFECTED"

Defected. I quickly grabbed the pamphlet from his hands and chucked them back into the garbage.

Olivia "Shouldn't you be arresting somebody?"

Elliot "I took the day off. But…if you want to…I am always down for an arrest."

Olivia "Oh, El, I'm not really in the mood."

Elliot "Yeah…the joke was…bad…timing."

I paused for fear I would cry again. I don't know why I was even trying to hold back the tears. He knew. I knew he knew.

Elliot "I know you didn't want me coming to the appointment, but…Liv-"

Olivia "We're not pregnant."

I couldn't look into his eyes. That didn't stop him from pulling me into his arms. I fell privy to his loving notions, but then pulled away before it got too complicated.

Olivia "I…I had some tests done and basically…I…"

Elliot "Liv, it's okay."

Olivia "I know."

Elliot "Can I hug you?"

It was tempting to allow him to baby me…and sweet of him to ask, but I just needed to be alone.

Olivia "No. I'm fine. You know, it's just not meant to be, and that's fine. There are plenty of children that need adopting. I'm just being selfish for wanting anything else."

Elliot nodded then ignored my wishes. He touched the top of my hand and lightly rubbed my back. It was a slow tactick to help share the pain and pull me into a hug. I saw it as a sign of weakness on my part.

Elliot "You're not selfish for wanting to conceive. We can look at the other options. We don't have to go straight to adoption. "

He reached into the garbage can and pulled the pamphlets back out and I freaked.

Olivia "No! No…that's not an option. We agreed. There are no other options for me Elliot. I just can't have babies. I can't."

I pushed his hand back into the garbage. I couldn't think. I already felt like I'd lost a child this morning when I was told that my maternal signals were just symptoms of bad PMS. Moving onto the next option seemed like ….god I don't even know…morbid.

Olivia "I just need some time."

I walked away from him and grabbed my purse.

Elliot "Where you going?"

Olivia "Out."

Elliot "Oh, okay…"

I stopped by the door. I hated that he was so damned understanding. Damn-it!

Olivia (weary and on the verge of tears) "I love you."

Elliot "I love you…."

I closed the door.

Elliot "too."

SCENE

Olivia stands with a gun in her hands. She shoots six bullets straight into the stomach of the paper man.

I had to go to my comfort zone. The firing range! I hadn't held a gun in years. After my incident with…well, I hadn't been inclined to be around a gun, let alone touch one. Funny how being out of control resorted to me standing in this dingy room, firing bullets from a Caliber handgun. It was 9 milometers of theraputic harmony. Bam, Bam, Bam. Each bullet was like a cheap shot to my shitty predicament. It felt nice. Releasing. I finished shooting the last of my pain away and handed the gun back to the guy behind the front desk. Every time my personal life started to get me down I'd retreat to thoughts of interrogations and car chases. The memory of helping a broken victim made my wound seem like a scratch. Some days I would itch to be back at my old job. Today was turning out to be one of those days. I found myself judging every man in the building.

A large muscely black man walks by her.

Gang Banger or Narcotics?

She watches the man shoot at his target and then she notices his marine tattoo.

Definitely Narcotics. Sigh. Teaching uneducated women how to live in the world was a powerful job, but it wasn't the same. The only thrill was dodging a nasty comment when the new girls were still feeling rebellious. And even that was typically hum drum and predictable. I paid for my hour and headed for the front door.

Olivia "See you another time, Jim."

The old crusty man who ran the shooting range, Jim, stood behind a glass case chewing tobacco and wiping down guns. The florescent lighting made him look cracked and jaundice. He nodded towards me.

Jim "Yeeep."

That was pretty much the extent of Jim's vocabulary. I liked it.

I headed for the streets. Sigh. I did it again. I sighed. The sun was bright, Manhattan was pleasantly warm, and although I can't bare a child or be a member of the NYPD, I can certainly find my way through the world. All of this drama was the result of whining. There was a point in my life where this kind of behavior would have upset me even further. There was also a point in my life where whining was all I did. So was I moving backwards or was this a happy medium? Backwards was definitely not what I wanted. I'm a progressive woman…no wait, I hate that term…Liberal. I am a liberal woman. Progressive is a fucking political term for people too stupid to look in a dictionary and realize that liberal is actually the same thing. Liberal is poetic and proud. Liberal is what I fight for everyday when I teach and fought for every day that I served and protected. People should be proud of that word and yet they hide it like it's a bad thing. It's a word that represents change and choices. Two things that have become a kind of fear in this strange world. I'm not afraid. And I should be proud. I should be proud to be a woman who has choices. I have so many choices. Invetro wouldn't be that bad. Did I just say that? Inverto. I did. And now I said it again. But I'm right. It's not that bad. I mean, I can have passionate sex with Elliot any day. And adoption- well adoption is one of the best gifts of all.

I can see us now. Me and Elliot walking hand in hand with our Asian, African, Russian, Islamic, Mexican babies. We'd be a melting pot of StablerBenson. And they'd be ours. A child that was ours. That's something we've never had. A child to hold, to care for, to laugh with and cry with. A liberal woman would never let bad fallopian tubes bring her down. Did I just make that realization while shooting a gun? I think I did. That's warped. Gosh, I don't know if it's the fresh air or the gun residue on my hands, but I feel good. New, even. I can do this.

I rounded the corner near Sephora and the M & M store in Times Square to find myself stuck in mass of people. Great. Foot traffic. I finally feel an epiphany coming on and I'm stuck in foot traffic. Which, happens to be the worst kind of traffic in New York. Thousands of young girls and their parents lined the streets holding signs that read "I love you Miley", "Hanna I'm the best of both your worlds!", "You are a Rockstar!" , Etc., Etc., Etc. The screaming was outrageous. I could see the subway entrance, but a hoard of people giggled around me in one giant clump.

Olivia "Excuse me."

A mom to her daughter "Isn't this exciting? She's going to be coming out of that building any second."

Young Girl "Oh, mom, you're the best. I can't wait! I can't wait! I can't wait! Can we get T Shirts at the concert?"

The Mom "Sure. I want the black one that the woman in front of has on."

Young Girl "Me too."

Olivia stops trying to push through and watches the two in a dream like stare.

Aw...matching T-shirts. I want a matching T-shirt. I took Bethie to an Alicia Keys concert a few months back, but she didn't want a T-shirt.

Flashback

Bethie "Aa- T-shirts aren't my thing."

Flash to Liv being pushed further and further away from the Subway entrance as she daydreams.

I got one. My delinquent students think I'm hip when I wear it to class. It's like I automatically score cool points.

"Ms. Benson?"

I should have just taken one of them with me to that concert. I practically had to beg Bethie to go. I think she feels like I'm trying to be her mom, but really I'd love to just be her friend.

"Ms. Benson!"

But what am I gonna do? Elliot says she's just being eighteen and difficult, but I'm pretty sure that my presence isn't exactly one hundred percent welcomed.

"Ms. B!"

Olivia "Huh! Oh- OH! Tamara! Hey!"

Olivia turns to find one of her students standing next to her in the crowd. Tamara is a tall African American woman in her early twenties. She's dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, and a little girl around the age of five stands next to her.

Tamara "Ms. B, what are you doing here? You going to the Hanna Montana concert?"

Olivia "Hanna Montana? Ah…no. No, I'm…" She looks around for the subway, which is now behind her. "I was actually headed home, but I got stuck in this mess. How are you?"

Tamara smiles and grabs the little girl's hand.

Tamara "I'm good. This is my daughter, Remy."

Remy pulls her arm away from Tamara and walks over to the street barricades to look for Miley Cyrus.

Tamara "Remy! Remy, get over here!"

Remy "No!"

Olivia "She's a feisty one."

Tamar "You're tell'n me. Remy Special, get off of that thing right now, before I take you back home."

Remy "I can't see!"

Tamara "I don't care!"

Remy sulks back over to her mother and then slowly tries to pull her closer to the street. Tamara fights her the whole time.

Tamar "Sorry bout that Ms. B."

Olivia "Olivia. We're not in class. You can call me Olivia. So Remy, is this Hanana Montana your favorite?"

Remy nods, but she still has a sulk on her face.

Tamara "That's all she talks about. We got the Cd's, the costumes, the movies, everything."

Remy "I can't see! Mooooom!"

Tamara "I had to beg, borrow, and steal to get me some tickets. You supposed to laugh at that girl, cause you know I'm just joking."

Olivia shakes her head and smiles.

Olivia "You think I don't watch comedy central? Come on, girl, I'm not that old."

Tamara "Right! Anyway, I just had to get her to this concert. I haven't been able to do anything with her since I got out of jail, you know."

Olivia "Good. This will be nice for the both of you."

Tamara "I mean, I'm not technically allowed to be taking Remy out yet. She's supposed to be with my mamma, but my mamma to sick for something like this, so I figured as long as I got her back by nine what's the harm, right?"

Olivia "Tamara, you shouldn't be doing that."

Tamara "You not gonna turn me in are you?"

Olivia looked at Remy who was leaning as far from her mother as possible, while still holding her hand and smiling at the building.

Remy "Mamma! I think that's her! Right there! I saw blonde hair!"

Tamara "Alright baby girl! We're going! Ms. B, you got to promise you won't turn me in. I know you trust me."

Olivia "I'm not gonna turn you in, but you have to promise this is the first and last time."

Tamara "We cool, Ms. B- Opp- I mean, Olivia. First and last. I'll see you on Monday."

Olivia "Tamara, please be careful!"

Tamara "Like a cross. Remy, let's go!"

Olivia "Tamara wait! Call me, if you need anything. Anything! And make sure she's back by nine."

Tamara grabbed the little girl and headed into the crowd.

Tamara "No need to worry Ms. B, I got it."

Olivia watched them leave with a hint of concern. "Have fun…Nice to meet you…Remy."

SCENE

By the time I had gotten home I had almost forgotten about my non-baby. Tamara and Remy were on my worried list. God forbid something happens and I could have prevented it. But Tamara was a good mother. Her only fault was the ex-boyfriend who got her in trouble with drugs. From everything I could see, she was on the right path. You had to loosen the reins somewhere.

Elliot was still at home. His car was parked in front of the building and the little Asian woman who delivered out mail was sorting through our mailbox.

Shiho "Good afternoon Mrs. Benson!"

Olivia "Hello Shiho. It's almost five o'clock. You running late today?"

Shiho "I play catch up this week, cause last week I took day off. Here is mail for you. Meest-ah Benson must like his dirty magazines."

Elliot "Excuse me?"

I turned to see Elliot standing at the door adorning an apron and an oven mitt. God, he must feel really bad. Cooking was a chore we'd all agreed he was ban from.

Elliot "Stabler."

Olivia "Sweetheart, I'll be in. Give me a sec."

Olivia takes the Playboy magazine from Shiho and tries to cover up the comment that she had just made. Not to mention she called him Mr. Benson. Oy.

Shiho "Oh Harrow, Meest-ah. Benson."

Elliot "Stabler. Elliot Stabler."

Shiho "I see you like the Hugh Heffne-ah. I ask because my husband wanting to get magazine too."

Elliot grabs the mail, including the maazine from Olivia and gives Shiho a criminal glare.

Elliot "I like the articles."

Shiho laughs.

Shiho "Ohhhahahah, you make joke, Meest-ah. Benson. That so funny."

Olivia "It's Stabler, Mrs. Jino. Our last name is Stabler."

Shiho "Stabr-ah? It say Benson."

Olivia "Yeah, I got the magazine for him as a birthday present, that's why my last name is on it, but our last name…his last name is Stabler."

Shiho "Stabr-ah. So you are Benson. Tsk, tsk, tsk, you moderns and your name keeping."

Shiho turns and goes back to mail sorting.

Olivia "It was a professional choice."

Shiho "You know what they say about profession? Man with tool in woman's mouth not necessariwry dentist. You no need magazine if you take his name. Some tings are done for good reason. Taking name make husband feel like man. "

Olivia's mouth dropped and Elliot pulled her towards the door.

Elliot "Whoa! Well, dinner's ready, we should get to that."

Shiho "Oh wait! I almost miss."

Shiho hands Elliot a letter.

Shiho "Adoption New York. You have baby probrems?"

Elliot pulls Olivia into the open doorway. Now he's the one shielding her from Shiho's comments.

Elliot "We're good. Thank you, Shiho. Have a good day."

Shiho "You Toooooo!" (she smiles) "Oh, Meest-ah Errwiot, it take many nail to build crib, one screw to make baby. Dirty magazine –Pah. You have hot wife."

Elliot "Good bye!"

Olivia "And the articles-- are good!"

Elliot closes the door.

Elliot "Wow. How are you?"

His takes her into his arms and kisses her on the forehead, but she's still lost in the moment before.

Olivia "Can you believe that she just said that?"

Elliot "You've heard worse."

Olivia "Are you offended that I didn't take your name?"

Elliot "No."

He takes her hand and kisses it lightly over and over again.

Olivia "Because I would take your name. I just thought professionally it would be less complicated."

Elliot "Sh, shh, shhh, you don't need to explain that to me. I like your name the way it is. That's not why I married you."

He guides her into the kitchen and sits her down at the table.

Elliot "I made dinner. Salmon, veggies, and rice. Well, crispy rice."

Olivia "You burnt it?"

Elliot "I…yeah, I got side tracked…sit, please. Eat."

Olivia "My, it's been a day. I'm glad you thought of dinner, cause I was about to order tai and well…that conversation just killed my appetite. Anyway, thank you."

Elliot "No problem. You doing okay?"

Olivia wearily smiled.

Olivia "I'm fantastic. And sorry. I'm sorry-"

Elliot "Hey, hey, look at me."

He grabbed my face. Warm and forgiving. Although, I'm not sure he was ever really upset by my leaving. He was good that way.

Elliot "You need never apologize for needing space. I trust you. Eat up."

I smiled and watched him take off the apron as I swallowed a dry piece of fish. If Elliot could just set a timer when he cooked or maybe heard the timer when he cooked, this meal could at least be chewable. But I guess, I have no room to complain. It was the thought that counts.

Olivia "Nice apron, Stabler."

Elliot "You Rrrriiiike!" (said with Chinese accent)

Olivia "Elliot, stop."

Elliot "Sorry, I couldn't help myself. But you're right. That's racist."

Olivia "Yeah. Mr. Adoption New York. You didn't tell me that you talked to them."

Elliot "Ah, that…that…My buddy helped out with a case. He works with them and I mentioned wanting to adopt. He said he'd send us info…just in case. I wasn't drawing conclusions."

Olivia "It's fine. It was a good idea."

Elliot watches her. She seems to be in a good mood, and he smiles knowing that they may pull through this without a fight.

Elliot "How was the firing range?"

Olivia "Did you follow me, Elliot Stabler?"

Elliot (laughing) "No, I just know you. Listen, Liv, if you want to look into Invetro, I'm with you on it."

Olivia "Really?"

The burnt rice crunched between my teeth as I swallowed with wide eyes.

Elliot "Of course."

I dropped my fish-filled fork and grabbed his hand. Not that the dinner would have prevented me from needing to touch him after that statement.

Olivia "I know it's not natural, and against Catholisim, and needy, and possibly even selfish. And I do want to adopt, but…"

Elliot "There's no need to explain. You want to be pregnant. I get that. Hell, I want you to be pregnant. Do you know how hot you're going to be when you're pregnant?"

And then I blushed, which forced me to reclaim my dignity back with a light slap on his arm.

Olivia "You're bad. And you have a serious thing for pregnant women. What is up with that? That can't be normal."

Elliot "It's hot. You don't know what you're getting into, Mrs. Benson. You thought the sex was good now. You wait."

Olivia "Youch, down boy, down."

Elliot sat down at the table and took one bite of his fish.

Elliot "Ah, this is awful."

I nodded with a pained look on my face.

Olivia "I'm glad you said it."

He smirked in my direction and before I could react I was being lifted away towards the living room.

Elliot "Screw dinner. I need to hold you."

Olivia "Well if you insist."

Elliot throws Olivia over his shoulder and drops her on the couch. Tickling and snuggling soon follow and Olivia allows it with open arms.

I was beginning to enjoy being defected. I think this was the first time in EO history that I didn't have to fight to get my way.

Olivia "Are you sure about the Inverto?"

Elliot "I want you to have my baby. I want your baby. If this is what we have to do, then what the hell."

Olivia "What did I do to deserve the agreeable Elliot Stabler?"

He ate me up with hungry eyes and I laughed again. I did have to say one thing, there was never a dull moment when we were together.

Elliot "What can I say I have a thing for the nose scrunch. That and your shot with that 9 millimeter is still dead on. I'm not cop enough to mess with that."

Olivia "I knew you followed me!"

Elliot "Some old habits will never change."

Olivia warmly smiles.

Olivia "I like that old habit."

Elliot played with my hair as we took a moment to read each other's eyes. His were just how I liked them. Soft and familiar. The dim end stand light gave them just enough glow to remain prominent.

Elliot "Just so you know, we have an appointment tomorrow. 10am."

Olivia cocks her head to the side in question.

Elliot "I wanted to really take this seriously…for you. So we're gonna go talk to the fertilization team in those pamphlets that Dr. Cox gave you. If that's alright with you."

Olivia "Wha…you did that? You called?"

Elliot "Yeah, I…I did. That's okay right?"

Olivia "Yeah. How did you know I would—"

Elliot "I know you."

As we leaned into tightly kiss and hold onto each other I felt the faint feeling of vibration tickling my thigh. Another bad habit. Elliot growled through our kiss and when the vibration turned into a ring he dug deep into his pocket and clicked the speaker phone of his cell on.

Elliot "Someone better be dead."

Fin's voice "Yeah, like I haven't heard that one before. We got a shooting near Times Square."

Olivia "So have homicide deal with it."

Fin's voice "Liv? Damn, did I interrupt again?"

Elliot "Let's just say, you have a knack for predicting my hard on, Tutuola."

Fin's voice "My bad bro. Just getting you back for getting some. You'll have to blue ball it. I need you there in ten."

Elliot "What kind of shooting?"

Fin's voice "Little girl. Five years old. African American. Abandoned by the mother."

Olivia "Oh my god!"

Olivia pushes Elliot off of her.

Olivia "Please tell me she's not wearing a pink t-shirt, blue jeans, and messy corn rows?"

Fin's voice "Ahh…I don't know. Why you know her?"

Olivia didn't answer. She jumped from the couch and grabbed for her shoes.

"New Soul" by Yael Naim fades in as Olivia pulls the keys from Elliot's hand and heads for the squad car. Elliot is closely behind her.

Elliot "Liv, wait!"

I'm a new soul I came to this strange world hoping I could learn a bit about how to give and take.

But since I came here

Felt the joy and the fear

Finding myself making every possible mistake

La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la...ETC!

AN: Hit me with your best shot! Because I love-ah-pat benatar! WooooHooooo