Author's Note: Words in italics are Noah.

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine. If they were, I'd be rich and a total Dick.

Chapter Two: Facing A Firing Squad Naked Covered With Red Ants

There was nothing that Olivia hated more – well, except for the perps she dealt with on a daily basis – than shopping. And, more specifically, shopping for dresses. It always took too long, she had to try on at least ten dresses to find one that didn't want to make her yack, and invariably there was always an encounter with pushy salespeople.

She'd rather have her nails ripped out by their roots.

But she was making progress. In the comfortable dressing room, there were already four dresses slung over the chair rejected for being too tight, being too revealing (while Liv didn't mind some cleavage, she figured that wearing a dress with a neckline cut down to her navel would not endear her to her boss), and for being fantastic-looking-on-the-mannequin- but-hideous-on-an-actual-human-being.

Taking a deep breath, she picked up the next one, a brilliant fire-engine red and held it up against her. The color was good, the fabric was comfortable and it might be roomy enough to allow her to eat more than two bites. When she tried it on, however… she'd be lucky to manage half a quarter of a bite of food.

Olivia Benson really hated dress shopping.

About ready to give up, she was leaving the upscale boutique when another dress caught her eye. Wandering over to the mannequin, she looked at it up and down, walked around, looked at the back.

"May I try this one?" She asked the salesperson, hovering anxiously in the background.

"Certainly."

Ten minutes later, Olivia was in love.

With a damn dress.

…

Hank Voight hated suits.

Hank Voight hated tuxedos.

Hank Voight hated the brass.

Hank Voight hated tiny little fancy-ass French-named food that would never even begin to take care of an appetite.

And, most of all, he hated the idea of having to spend an evening stuffed into a tuxedo and hang around with these people most of whom he was pretty sure had forgotten what it was like to walk the streets. They'd all been too busy sitting up in their goddamned ivory towers, with their brownstones on the Upper East side and their arm candy, usually platinum blonde in their mid-twenties who looked like all they did was spend their entire life baking in the sun.

Straight out of a cliché.

This wasn't his world. And it never would be.

So why had he said yes?

He really didn't have to think too hard on that one. The truth was he couldn't say no to Olivia. Oh, he might pretend to and make her work really hard to get him to agree to doing her a favor but, in the long run, she had him by the balls. He just couldn't say no.

And he wasn't quite sure why. They weren't together. Liv had never really indicated that she wanted anything more than an occasional weekend together, spent usually between the sheets. And Voight wasn't going to push her on it because, truth be told, he wasn't sure what he wanted either. He loved Chicago, had a great squad – and had absolutely no desire to transfer to a city where the taxes would bleed you dry.

At least in Chicago you could count on keeping at least some of your blood.

But Hank Voight couldn't deny that there was something absolutely irresistible about Olivia Benson.

She had him from the moment she threatened to arrest him. Nothing he liked better than a woman who'd challenge him on his shit, who was his equal in every way that mattered.

So when Olivia Benson called asking for a favor, he simply couldn't say no.

And he'd never really want to, either.

Throwing some clothes into a suitcase and putting his rarely worn tuxedo into a garment bag (aka, a hanger and a flimsy plastic bag), Voight made a quick call.

"You call me if you need anything. If shit goes down, I'll get on the first flight back."

"Hank, we're gonna be fine." Erin Lindsay sighed in fond exasperation. "Just go and have a good time."

"Getting a root canal would be more fun than this." Voight grumbled. "In fact, I'd happily have a root canal after this."

"Suck it up, Hank. Give my best to Olivia." Lindsay smiled into the receiver.

"Will do. You stay away from Halstead."

"Hank." Erin rolled her eyes.

"I mean it."

"Go away."

"Take care, kid." He chuckled and hung up. Erin Lindsay was the closest thing he had to a daughter and, as much as he respected Jay Halstead, he was nowhere near good enough for Erin.

Let the kids be, Hank. Voight could almost hear Olivia's amused chuckle in his head.

Shaking his head, he smiled, shouldered his bags and headed to the airport.

….

Olivia looked at her watch as she sat in her SUV by the curb of the airport. It was almost 12:30 and Voight should have landed 25 minutes ago and she couldn't stay parked at in this spot for much longer. The traffic cops had already given her the evil eye but had backed off when she had unashamedly showed her badge. With the amount of congestion around JFK, there was no way she was going to circle around the airport again – she and Noah had been there for an hour already.

Olivia bit her lip, looking at her watch for what seemed like the fifteenth time. She had this odd sensation in her stomach – almost like butterflies – but it was just Hank. Why was she so nervous? It was just Hank.

It must be the thought of the Gala. Yeah, that was it.

Several hours of schmoozing, boozing, and dancing with New York's finest. She groaned. The more she thought about this evening, the less she wanted to do it. Olivia would much rather face a firing squad. At least she didn't have to do it alone and for that she was grateful. And even more grateful to Hank for biting the bullet and agreeing to do it with her.

Especially since from their conversations on the phone, he sounded like he'd be happier to have his teeth ripped out.

He was right- she really did owe him big time.

"NO." A small and feisty voice from the back of the car interrupted her thoughts. Noah loved riding in the car but he most decidedly did not love being strapped into a car seat.

Olivia rolled her eyes. She really was going to kill Voight for teaching him that word.

"It's okay, baby." She reached back and patted Noah who was chattering away in his car seat. "We're just waiting for Uncle Hank."

I don't like being strapped into this thing. LET. ME. OUT.

Noah let out an indignant squawk.

"No, Noah, you can't get out of the car seat. You have to stay there."

"No, mama. No." Noah started crying.

I HATE THIS CONTRAPTION. GET. ME. OUT. If you don't, I'll keep screaming. And I know how you hate it when I scream…. Wait, do you have froot-loops?

Right at that moment when Noah was getting ready to howl, Voight knocked on the car door. With relief, Olivia leaned over and opened the door.

"You're a sight for sore eyes, Sergeant." He greeted her with a broad grin and leaned down to give her a kiss on the mouth. She smiled against the heat of his mouth on hers. She'd never been so happy to see anyone in her life.

"It's good to see you, Hank." Olivia smiled. "Thanks for doing this."

"We'll discuss payment later." He warned her, a twinkle in his eye.

She rolled her eyes at him and kissed him back, forgetting, for a moment, that they had an audience. "Promises, promises."

"HIIIIIII!" A loud shriek interrupted their kiss. Noah was not happy about being ignored.

Stop that mouth touching thing. It's gross.

"Sorry about that," Olivia blushed, smiling a little awkwardly.

Noah reached out his arms for "Uncle" Hank. You're the guy who gives me froot-loops!

"Hey, kiddo." Hank reached behind him and touched the baby's hand. Noah burbled with excitement.

"So," Olivia grinned at him as he got into the car, "looking forward to tonight?"

He simply gave her a glare. "I'm going to pretend you didn't ask me that."

"Come on," she teased, "it's going to be fun."

"Says the woman who, I quote, said she'd rather face a firing squad naked covered with red ants. Interesting mental visual, by the way."

Olivia smacked his arm. "It won't be that bad."

"Again, may I remind you about our conversation last week on Tuesday."

"Dammit, sometimes I wish you didn't remember everything." She complained.

"It's why you love me." He smirked.

"Can your head get any larger, Hank Voight?"

"I don't know…why don't we find out?" He gave her a mocking leer.

"Oh my God, I don't know why I put up with you." Olivia rolled her eyes.

"One, you love me. Two, because you need a plus one."

"One, in your dreams. Two, good point." She smiled.

"It really is good to see you, Benson." Voight gripped her hand.

AND ME TOO. Noah made a little wail from the back seat.

"And you too, kiddo." Hank grinned.

Noah giggled in delight.

Did you bring me froot-loops?