Ok here we go. Still April, 2017. This chapter deals with the resolution of the Terrence Reynolds shooting (which occurred in August 2015). Since our legal system actually moves at a glacial pace, I don't think the gap in time is terribly unrealistic. This chapter and the next one aren't total #Tuckson fluff, but I wanted to tackle the resolution to Community Policing (one of my favorite eps ever) and make yet another attempt to sort out how OMB and IABET became our beloved #Tuckson. If you've read my other stories, you know I've explored many theories and timelines related to how they got together, in this chapter (but mostly the next one) I explore yet another angle. Much love and thanks to bm89 for allowing me to take/steal/borrow the Carisi idea which is hinted at here and continued in the next installment. Enjoy!

Void

The police barricades and a line of uniformed police officers holding ballistics shields corralled the mass of people who crowded near the courthouse steps on the sunny spring afternoon. The jury assigned to Campesi and Donlan's manslaughter trial had been deliberating for over three days, and each morning demonstrators arrived before dawn and stayed until someone informed them the panel called it quits for the night. So far, everything stayed peaceful, but, sensing a dawdling jury indicated acquittal, some of the more vocal attendees' language became increasingly more militant. The city was on edge.

A few blocks away at 1PP, Captain Ed Tucker watched live news coverage with the Deputy Commissioner of Public Information and the Chief of Community Affairs. Tucker knew the two men well. Hank Abraham's replacement was an old buddy from the Police Academy, and the Community Affairs Chief once worked with Tucker at IAB. Every officer and every department was on alert, including ESU and Hostage Negotiation; as the trial concluded, Ed had been in his office more than he'd been at home, prepared and alert. Who knew what type of crazy scenarios would spin off from the trial's fallout?

"So, Tucker, you miss IAB?"

"Do I miss being the most hated man in the NYPD? No."

"Now you're a hero," The Deputy Commissioner said, "You've been in the newspaper how many times in the past year?"

"I don't keep track of that stuff. I think my kids do, though."

"Hey, speaking of kids," the Chief interjected, "How's your boy?"

Thinking of Noah, Ed smiled. "He's great, getting big."

"You gotta get him out and throw the ball around while we have this nice weather."

"Yeah," Ed sniffed, "If I can ever go home again. We actually just closed on a new place, speaking of home."

"Congratulations! Same neighborhood?"

"Yeah, almost exactly between my old place and hers. In the middle of renovations now, paint, new flooring, kitchen's all brand new."

The Deputy Commissioner let out a long breath that almost sounded like a whistle, "Man did you ever get lucky. You know how many cops have had their eyes on Benson?"

"How many?"

"Well, there's the two of us—" He grinned slyly.

Ed glared at him.

"Just kidding, Tucker, just kidding. But, really, she's great. I've met her a few times over the years, always so, well, professional but she makes you feel…good, if you don't mind me saying."

Tucker shrugged a little. No I don't mind, but dial it down a little, pal.

The Chief redirected the conversation, "Musta been hard for her…dealing with Dodds' passing. I mean, her boss's son and all. On his last day. I can't imagine losing one of my guys…but like that." He shook his head in disbelief.

"She's tough," Ed muttered, not intending to let on how devastated Olivia had been and how much she blamed herself for Mike's death. It had been almost a full year since the close job at Munson's went south, and she was still recovering.

"I can't believe Chief Dodds stayed on. I would at least need to take some time off."

Tucker thought about Dodds, unmarried and alone, and surmised, "Probably easier for him to bury himself in work."

"Maybe."

Ed's phone vibrated. It was a message from Olivia.

Jury's back.

"Gentlemen," he announced dramatically, "Brace yourselves. We have a verdict."

….

The pared-down SVU squad gathered in Olivia's office, all four pairs of eyes glued to the television. While the reporters recapped the case and the circumstances, they stood shoulder-to-shoulder, arms folded, knowing in a few moments Manhattan could erupt into a cauldron of unrest. Even though tension coursed through the room, the Lieutenant glanced at her squad from the corner of her eye and felt a sense of unity she hadn't experienced since Cragen and Munch were around. Finally, they were getting along. Rollins transitioned to Sergeant seamlessly, as if she were always meant for the job. Fin was the same old Fin but now with an additional layer of contentment in his life since his grandson was born, and he'd developed a dose of patience for Carisi. Sonny's plans to become an ADA seemed to be pushed farther and farther down the road. He continued to grow as a detective, so much so that Olivia wondered if, when she finally retired, he and Rollins would possibly move up to command SVU.

Today they stood loyal to Donlan and Campesi. All four of them testified at trial and all four endured intense questioning by Barba. It wasn't exactly as combative as what happened in front of the grand jury, but Rafael seemed less intent on proving his point this time, perhaps because he couldn't prove it. The manslaughter charge was an overreach, he knew he couldn't prove the officers intended to kill Terrence Reynolds that night, and, thus, Barba was in a tough spot. He would be vilified in the media for failing to get convictions he legally could not get.

It was no surprise when the news filtered out of the courtroom.

Not guilty.

The four of them took a collective breath.

"What now, Liv?" Fin asked for no other reason than to break the silence.

"We wait and see what happens."

"Well, I'll bet dollars to donuts they drop the charges against Dumas now," Carisi said. "Not guilty on all counts for these two? And they emptied their clips? No way they'll get a conviction for Dume."

Rollins raised her eyebrows, "Yeah, but Campesi and Donlan…they're not gonna want to work in New York now. They have targets on their backs. Dume, too."

Olivia, who struggled internally with the case, shook her head and repeated what she'd been thinking since the indictments were handed down last year, "Nothing positive will come of this. Nothing."

"Nope," Carisi muttered.

"Guys, I have to run home for a bit," Olivia said, "Noah's going out tonight with his sisters and I have to get him ready. I'll be back in an hour or so." Olivia hurried out of the precinct and drove to the apartment, the contents of which were mostly in boxes. Moving day was in one week, and it couldn't come soon enough. Neither Ed nor Olivia considered themselves neat freaks, but the chaos was getting to them.

When she arrived at home, Lucy had just finished drying Noah's hair and Olivia thanked her profusely for once again staying later than previously scheduled.

"No problem," she cooed, combing his hair with her fingers, "He's going to love Lion King. I've seen it twice."

"Mommy, I go to the thee-et-ah with Sarah and Brookey!" Noah made sure to slowly and properly enunciate theatre with a slight British accent the way Sarah taught him after she surprised him with the tickets.

"We shall wear our finest clothes and have yet another Noah-Sarah date!" She announced brightly as she pranced around, "Oh, and, of course, we're taking Brooke along as well."

Olivia kissed his head, "I know, sweet boy, you're going to have such a good time! Remember, it's not like on TV. Real people will have costumes on."

"Nala and Simba be there?"

"Of course. You'll see. You'll be a good boy, right?"

"Yes! I be a good boy on the date!" Noah bellowed his best lion roar.

Lucy laughed and gathered her things. Seconds after she left, Sarah and Brooke waltzed in, both attired in floral print dresses, sporting fresh makeup and carefully curled hair. Sarah's longer blonde locks fell in waves along her shoulders while Brooke's long bob was in tighter spirals. They were radiant.

"Is the young man ready?" Sarah asked.

"Not quite," Olivia said, giving each of them a gentle hug so she didn't smear anything, "You two look beautiful!"

"Thanks! We will never look as good as Noah, but we tried," Brooke said.

"Let me put the finishing touches on him. It'll just be a few minutes."

While Olivia prepped Noah, Sarah helped herself to some wine and drank it from a coffee mug. Brooke gave her a dirty look, but Sarah brushed off the admonition. "A few sips—that's it. Chill out. I haven't had anything today." Sarah finished gulping her pre-show libation just as Olivia returned with Noah.

"Omigod, omigod, OMIGOD."

Brooke put a hand over her gaping mouth.

Olivia beamed at her son. He wore his new seersucker suit, crisp white shirt with a navy and yellow bow tie, and light tan Sperry topsiders. Olivia put a little gel in his hair and, instead of combing it neatly to the side, tousled it a little.

"I ready for Lion King, sisters!" Noah giggled and held out his hands for them to each take one, "Let's go!"

"Hang on a second, guys, I want to get a picture before you leave." A call from Ed came in as she was focusing. "It's your Dad. One minute."

"Hey, Ed."

Sarah and Brooke noticed Olivia's face fall and lose color, and her responses consisted mostly of "uh-huhs" and "oks" and "I sees." Brooke went over to her and put a hand on her shoulder as she concluded the call. "Be careful, Ed. I love you."

"Livvie, what's wrong?"

Olivia swallowed and tried to smile. "I'm sure…you know about the trial verdict today."

Sarah looked clueless, but Brooke nodded, "Yeah, the cops who killed the kids in the projects. Not guilty. I wasn't really paying attention to the trial, but a few of the teachers at my school are going to be furious."

"That's the one," Olivia said, "Your Dad's team has been assigned to the Clayton Powell Houses to keep order for the evening." Her tone was more sharp and professional than either of the girls had ever heard and it made them nervous. Their Livvie was struggling to maintain her composure.

"What does 'keep order' mean?" Brooke asked.

"Right now, just being there."

Sarah failed to realize the gravity of the situation, "I thought he was in hostage negotiation. Why does he have to go if there's nobody holding a gun to someone's head?"

Brooke shot her an annoyed glance and then looked down at Noah whose eyes were moving curiously from his mother to Sarah to Brooke.

Olivia's hands were shaking so much that she gripped her phone more tightly for fear of dropping it. "A hostage team almost always goes with ESU when there's a crisis—they work hand in hand. He's going to the projects where Terrence Reynolds was shot." She said under her breath.

"Do you want one of us to stay here with you?" Brooke offered.

"No," Olivia managed a tiny smile, "I have to go back to the precinct anyway. If…I'm not here when you get back, call me and I'll come right home." She lifted Noah, "Give me a kiss, sweet boy," she requested cheerfully, hoping Noah hadn't picked up on her anxiety, "Have fun tonight!"

"We'll take lots of pictures!" Sarah assured her.

"Oh, speaking of pictures, I didn't take the one of the three of you. Come on, get together." Sarah and Brooke leaned against the island and Noah stood between them on one of the chairs so he was a full head taller. Liking this vantage point, he smiled broadly and confidently and put an arm on each sister's shoulder.

"So cute," Olivia assessed. "Brooke, Sarah, thank you. And please don't worry…I'm probably overreacting. It's still an adjustment having your Dad out there instead of at IAB."

"It's ok, Livvie," Sarah replied, "Remember, Daddy's been a cop our whole lives, we're used to it. But, like you told Angela, he always comes home!"

Brooke grinned, "That was priceless."

"Total burn."

"Ok, let's go, we're gonna be late."

Olivia remained standing in the kitchen for several minutes after they left. She breathed deeply and methodically, trying to calm down and erase the worst-case scenarios from her mind. Ed would be fine. He would probably be inside the mobile command center anyway, not out in the line of fire. At least, she didn't think so. She wanted to call him again or at least send a text, but she fought the urge. He had a job to do. And, he did always come home.

….

Declan Murphy, or Bishop, as he was known in the world of sex traffickers, left the New York City detention center, the weak charges against him again having been dropped. He took out one of his two cell phones and dialed, subsequently explaining to the caller that he would be in Belgrade within twenty-four hours. Manhattan was too hot right now. Time to temporarily move operations. When he ended that call, he took out a second phone and dialed Rollins. She didn't pick up. He found a nondescript coffee shop, ducked inside, and kept trying.

A few blocks away at SVU, Olivia and her squad watched live developments on two screens—one turned to the local broadcast and the other to national news. The courthouse protestors erupted into collective groans, roars, and chants for justice. Around the city, cameras mounted on helicopters recorded pockets of demonstrators, but, so far, there had been no arrests and no reports of shots fired or other types of violence. However, everyone knew the relatively law-abiding daytime crowd could potentially give way to a nighttime mob intent on obtaining its own version of extralegal justice.

Carisi jabbed his finger at the screen. "Holy crap, it's Barba!"

Indeed, the District Attorney descended the stairs and bravely approached the mass of discontented faces and cluster of journalists and television cameras. His sallow cheeks and downcast expression made plain not only the disappointment of the day but the stress of his entire year. It was probably time for someone to whisk Barba away for a while to recharge. He spoke clearly and in layman's terms about the charges and how he understood the jury's verdict but still held the deepest sympathies and sorrow for Terrence Reynolds' family. He criticized the grand jury in veiled way when he remarked, "when emotions conflict with written law, we often get this result."

"Mr. Barba, you spoke to the jury members after the verdict. Why did they not convict on reckless endangerment?"

In addition to manslaughter, the grand jury indictment included the lesser charge of first degree reckless endangerment. Barba explained, "Juries typically, when they come to a conclusion that the most severe charge was an overreach, they are reluctant to convict on any charge. That was the prevailing sentiment in the room."

"What will happen to the two officers now?"

Barba's tone turned sarcastic, "They were acquitted. They can go back to their lives."

"Is it likely they'll do that?"

"You'll have to ask them."

"And what about Detective Dumas? Will the DA's office take him to trial?"

Olivia could tell by the look on Barba's face that the answer was "no," but Rafael only said, "We'll review the charges and the testimony and make that decision in the near future. That's all for today." He turned on his heel and jogged up the steps, leaving a chorus of catcalls and additional questions in his wake.

"He's got some guts to go out there and face that crowd," Fin remarked admirably. "He coulda just ducked out the back."

The station cut to another helicopter view. The cameras captured pockets of demonstrations throughout the city, particularly in Harlem, Inwood, and Washington Heights. The chopper hovered over the projects where Terrence lived and the video feed, showed a phalanx of ESU officers and uniformed personnel stationed among the residents who were gradually filtering into the complex's common areas. As the crowd gathered, several unmarked NYPD sedans arrived and men of rank, including Tucker, filed in the direction of the mobile command center.

Unsurprisingly, Carisi spotted him right away. "Hey, Lieu, it's the Captain!" He sounded more like Noah than a detective with a law degree.

Fin stepped closer and peered at the screen. From the air it was almost impossible to make a positive ID, but Tucker's graying hair and body language were unmistakable. Understanding the potential for danger, Fin didn't share Sonny's youthful excitement, and instead he did something he rarely, if ever, did—he put his arm around Olivia's shoulders and gave her a little side hug. Carisi was still engrossed in the footage, but Rollins noticed and immediately put two and two together. She, Olivia, and Fin shared a look of collective concern while the youngest squad member fawned over the sight of Tucker, who he greatly admired. The crowd swelled, but the protest appeared to remain relatively peaceful. Even though, Olivia had seen enough.

"Turn that off," she muttered and retreated to her office. They had work to do, and the proper focus could not possibly be maintained with that coverage streaming in the background.

Rollins stuck her head in, "Lieutenant, I have a quick errand to run. Mind if I duck out for a half hour?"

"Go ahead," Olivia assented without looking up.

"Everything alright?"

"I'm fine."

…..

Several blocks away, inside the Minskoff Theatre on West 45th Street, Brooke led Sarah and Noah to their seats. The girls loaded Noah down with soda, popcorn, and candy which he dragged along beside him in a plastic bag. Sarah, enjoying the financial windfall that came with her new job, purchased seats ten rows from the stage. Noah obediently took his seat and stared all around, taking in the ornate interior before Sarah took him to peek at the orchestra and allowed him to meander in the aisle for a little bit.

"When it starts you have to sit down, Noey." Sarah didn't sound the least bit authoritative.

"I want my candy."

"If you have your candy you have to sit down with us," Brooke said. "You can either wait or sit and eat."

Noah thought for a second then decided, "I'll wait."

Brooke and Sarah watched as he took slow steps and observed the action. Since the show was geared for younger audiences, the attendees were dressed more casually than they would have been for most performances. Many people smiled approvingly at the smartly-attired three-year-old and Sarah beamed.

"He is so freaking yummy," she said. "It would be fun to have a kid and buy all those cute clothes."

"Yeah, that's a great reason to have kids," Brooke replied sarcastically, "How 'bout I just get you an American Girl doll?"

"I don't need a doll…or a kid, we have Noah. Livvie doesn't mind if I play dress up with him."

"I'm sure she doesn't."

Sarah sipped a glass of Chardonnay and sat back contentedly, "This is so fun. We never did stuff like this growing up. Lookit Noey, he's loving it. And the show hasn't even started." Brooke wasn't responding and Sarah leaned forward and waved a hand in her face, "Hell-lo? Earth to Brookey? Are you a-live?"

The older sister snapped to attention, "Uh, yeah, I'm just thinking about Olivia and Dad. I should've stayed with her." Sarah had forgotten all about the verdict and her father's call to Olivia and she furrowed her brow, at the sight of which Brooke snapped, "Dad? The projects? Protests?"

"Oh," Sarah groaned, "Why are you so worried now? Dad was always doing something policeish when we were growing up."

"There's a difference between being a little kid and an adult, Sarah. We didn't know exactly what he was doing. He didn't tell us if he was shot at or whatever. Did you ever think he would be hurt or killed when he went to work?"

"No."

"I didn't either. Then he worked at IAB, but now, today, you didn't see the look on Olivia's face?"

"Of course I did."

"Have you ever seen her look like that before?"

"No."

Brooke tried not to let her frustration show, "Why do you think that is?"

"Brooke, Livvie told us she was probably overreacting. Of course she's gonna be freaked out. That's her man. Dad'll be fine. He didn't kill anybody. Those people," Sarah fluttered her fingers in the air, "Just need to vent, they'll scream and whatever and everything will be fine. Whaddya think's gonna happen? A riot?"

"Maybe."

"Well, Dad's a Captain. He's not out there with one of those shields doing crowd control."

Brooke nodded. That was the most sense Sarah had made all night. "I'm still worried."

Sarah put her glass down and put either hand on the side of Brooke's head, pointing it in Noah's direction. "Lookit that boy. Our brother. He's having the time of his life. He has no clue what's going on outside. He's innocent. Living in the moment. Why don't you," Sarah turned Brooke's face to meet hers, "act like him for the next two hours? When we leave you can worry your little ass off. There's nothing you can do now."

Sarah kissed her sister's forehead, and Brooke couldn't hold back a giggle. "When did you get so wise?"

"Every once in a while I show signs of being insightful."

"Will you let go of my face, please?"

"Of course.

The lights dimmed and Noah rushed over, slightly alarmed. Sarah plopped him in her lap. "It's ok, Noey-Boey, the show's about to start. You wanna sit with me or in your own seat?"

Noah gripped Sarah's wrist and leaned forward with anticipation as the music began playing. Enraptured, he didn't respond. For the time being, he remained perched on Sarah's knees.

….

No news is good news.

Lieutenant Benson repeated this phrase in her head as she muddled through the paperwork on her desk. The afternoon and evening passed without word from Ed. Calls to SVU were sporadic, perhaps due to the heavy police presence which was expected to continue throughout the evening. The only contact Olivia had with her family were texts from Sarah who sent photos and then a post-show update informing her they were taking Noah to Café Lalo for dessert. Olivia responded that she would meet them at home. Finally, right before she turned on the news again, Ed sent her a text telling her he was fine and to expect him home "not too late." He concluded with, Don't worry. Love you.

"Fin, Carisi, I'm going home," she announced a little while later as she exited her office burdened with the stack of accordion files and her large purse. "And you should, too."

"Yeah, ok, Liv," Fin said, not looking at all displeased with the order. "Have a good weekend." His voice was laced with concern, but he didn't directly ask about Tucker. Of all the squad members, it was taking Fin the longest to get used to Olivia's new life as mother and wife.

"You too," she replied almost too cheerfully, "Go see your grandson."

"Yeah, Alejandro and Ken are thinking about the Bronx Zoo if the weather holds up."

Olivia smiled as Carisi launched into vivid analyses of his favorite exhibits at both the Bronx Zoo and the Central Park Zoos as Fin looked helplessly at the Lieutenant. His face pleaded with Olivia.

Save me.

…

Sarah, Brooke, and Noah arrived at the apartment a few minutes after Olivia. Despite the popcorn, candy, soda, and dessert, Noah's outfit was impressively unstained, his face had been wiped clean, and even his gel-filled hair was still spiky. In one hand he clutched the playbill and in the other he held a plastic Simba by the tail.

"Look, Mommy! It roars!" Sure enough, Noah manipulated the toy so its mouth opened and it bellowed a tinny-sounding roar.

"Wow, sweet boy! Did you like the theatre?"

"Uh-huh, we singed the songs and see the guys in, in, in…the lion suits!"

Sarah grinned down at him, "He was sooo good, Livvie. When it was over he was like 'that's all?' It's, like three hours, but he wanted to stay longer!"

Noah handed the playbill to his mother, "This the book."

"We tried to explain about actors and costumes," Brooke said, "Noah, what do you want to be for Halloween?"

"Lion!"

"Big lion or little lion?"

"BIG LION!"

"He means Mufasa," Sarah interpreted, "He wants the big mane."

Olivia hugged and kissed her son, "We'll make that happen." Noah yawned. "In the meantime, let's get your jammies on and get ready for bed. You got to stay up late tonight, Noah."

"Maybe he'll sleep in tomorrow," Sarah suggested, "A little Saturday gift for you."

"Are you sure you don't want us to stay until Dad comes home?" Brooke asked.

"No, that's ok. He said he'd be home soon. Everything apparently has calmed down enough that his team is going home." Olivia continued, profusely thanking the two of them for so generously treating Noah and they left, planning to stop at Quinn's for a nightcap. Olivia went to her purse and pulled out two twenty-dollar bills. "Here, take this, drinks on me."

"No, Livvie, you don't have to do that."

Brooke shook her head, "Uh-uh, we're not taking it."

"Please." Olivia folded the bills in half and tucked them into the side pocket of Brooke's handbag, "Let me do this."

"You always buy us drinks!" Sarah protested, "And dinner, and-"

Olivia held up her hand, "Stop. Take the money and go have fun. And, thank you again."

They conceded.

"Text us when Dad gets home, ok?" Brooke requested sincerely, giving Olivia a firm hug. "We love you."

"Love you, too."

After smothering Noah with hugs and kisses, the ladies headed out into the night. Noah didn't resist his bedtime routine, and made it through only one story before he fell asleep. Olivia rocked him for a few minutes as she surveyed his room. She and Ed were saving his packing for last, so everything was in its usual place—toys and stuffed animals shoved in one corner, photos and other keepsakes on top of his dresser, and his absurdly large shoe collection lined up against the wall. The space was small, and Olivia was excited for him to have a real bedroom.

"Just a week or so, baby boy," She whispered, "Daddy and I are making everything perfect." Tomorrow's plan was to shop for his room's wall art. They were debating whether to go with dinosaurs or trains, and they planned to take Noah to the apartment for his first visit. Renovations, at least the major ones, were almost finished, and it was only a matter of paint drying before they could begin moving their things in.

"Ok, Noah," she whispered again, "Let's get you in bed."

Noah remained fast asleep as Olivia laid him in bed and covered him with his blue and red fleece blanket. She put his arm around Bernie, kissed him, made sure the night light was plugged in, and left the door open just a crack.

In the kitchen among the boxes, she found Ed's bourbon and poured an ounce or so into a juice glass. She desperately wanted to see her husband, and to occupy her racing mind she turned the television to late night reruns and tried to absorb herself in Friends, but instead waited impatiently for the sounds of Ed's arrival. Her eyes drifted from the television to the bookshelves. They had been mostly cleared and packed, but Olivia saved their family photos for last and those remained displayed, clustered together, a pictorial story of the last year and a half. There was their first staged photo together, taken by Brooke in Central Park the day they had their picnic last spring. They looked comfortable yet slightly tentative; Olivia smiled a little as she remembered the newness of their relationship on that day and how Sarah babbled on and on about how cute they were together. The other stills created a timeline of the second half of 2016: the beach, birthdays, Sarah's wedding, Christmas, and their wedding. What a whirlwind the past year had been—filled with precious memories, laughs, and family love.

Olivia took a sip.

Now here she was, alone, wallowing in a deep pool of angst and despondency. She hadn't felt like this in a very long time.

Another sip.

She leaned her head back and stared at the ceiling. Olivia was not religious and hardly could call herself spiritual, but she did, at that moment, send up a request.

Please let him get here.

…

"Liv?"

Olivia opened her eyes. Ed stood above her with a tender expression on his face. He was still wearing his vest and HNT coat which made him loom large, and he held Olivia's bourbon in one hand.

"You were about to drop this," He told her gently before downing what was left of the bourbon.

"You're home," she purred groggily, reaching out for him. He pulled her up and she wrapped her arms around the bulk of his uniform, hearing the crunch as her body pressed against the nylon and hardened plastic.

"I'm home."

"I was nervous."

"We were inside the whole time."

"You never know, in circumstances like that…" Olivia drifted off, thinking of how easily it would have been for a rioter to throw a Molotov cocktail into the Mobile Command Center.

"It's calm," he reported, "the pastors, other community leaders, they were holding vigils, telling people to go home. Our guys are still there, but, for now, it's under control."

"I couldn't stop thinking of the worst. The whole day."

"Wasn't it on the news? There were choppers in the air almost the whole time."

"I had to turn it off."

"Aw, Liv, it's ok now." He held her by the shoulders. "Look at me. I'm here. It's me," he stared at her intently, reassuringly. "All over."

"Ok."

Still standing close, he took off his jacket while Olivia unbuckled his vest and then reattached herself to him, this time moving in for a kiss. It started innocently, almost tentatively, as if she weren't completely sure the man in front of her was really her husband. He rubbed her back and then threaded his fingers through her hair, keeping her lips attached to his. He probed for her tongue, and tenderly massaged it with his, soothing her, asserting his unmistakable masculinity.

Her phone vibrated on the coffee table, but she made no move to take the call. Olivia delayed answering; she wanted a few more minutes in Ed's arms to feel the security of his embrace. When they were apart she could usually imagine how this felt, but tonight, under the weight of uncertainty, the old but familiar loneliness returned, and that was frightening. It had been a long time since she'd felt that hollow inside.

Phone silenced, she unbuttoned and untucked his shirt and put her palms on his bare chest.

More vibrations.

Ed groaned into her mouth, but she kept kissing him, more and more deeply, and her hands fell to his waist. Belt unbuckled. Zipper undone. Ed responding to his wife's warm welcome home. He groaned again, this time in response to her fingers exploring inside his boxer briefs.

The phone did not stop. In fact, the noise seemed to become even more insistent.

PICK UP!

Duty was calling, and it was not going away. Olivia removed her hand from Ed's pants but kept a thumb hitched through a belt loop, thwarting any possible escape. She gathered her composure, swallowed, took a deep breath, and took the call.

Carisi didn't waste time with pleasantries. "Lieu, sorry to bother you, but I can't get a hold of Rollins. Fin's on his way in, but she's not picking up."

"What's going on?"

Ed watched as Olivia listened to the details. By the time she hung up, he could tell by the look on her face that her plans for him and for tonight had changed.

"That was Carisi. Carjacking with possible kidnapping. I have to go." Given the urgency of the case, Olivia didn't have a spare moment, but she lingered against Ed anyway. "I don't want to leave you."

"I'm fine," he said softly, "Go. I'll be right here waiting when you get back."

She gave him a slightly funny look, nodded, and kissed him once more. "Hopefully I won't be long."

…..