Olivia had always liked puzzles. She'd been good at them as a child, had learned early how to sit quietly and arrange all the pieces on the coffee table in the living room, how to find the corners first, how to build the edges and then work her way in. When she was very young the puzzles had been small, and simple; as she grew older, the puzzles grew more challenging. She liked the ones with large splashes of color, liked grouping the pieces each according to those colors, and then filling the puzzle in section by section. There was something satisfying about it, something comforting in the methodical work, something comforting in solving it, in looking down at a completed puzzle and knowing she had done that.

Solving a crime was not unlike solving a puzzle. The first step, always, was to gather up all the pieces; the physical evidence, the crime scene photos, the witness statements. Fill in the edges, the what and the when and the who, and then start working on the center, on the central question, on the why.

She had the outline of this case. The what; a rape and murder. The when; two nights ago, when all the world was sleeping. The who; Andrea Dobson, only child of Renee and Peter Dobson, a perfectly ordinary couple from Colorado who had made a killing on the real estate market and left their considerable wealth to their daughter, an aspiring artist who had taken off for the big city, where she had promptly vanished into obscurity. That was the outline, and Olivia had gathered a number of interior pieces, was grouping them together by color, by association. Andrea's parents had died together, killed by a carbon monoxide leak in their home in Colorado Springs five years ago. Five years ago, around the same time Andrea would have gotten pregnant with McKenna. Five years ago, when Antony's reported sightings of the angel who called himself Michael had begun. They were Catholic, Andrea's parents. Olivia kinda thought that mattered. After they died, Andrea tied up their affairs and moved to the city and never made a single friend, raised her daughter on her own and sold her pottery online. Olivia kinda thought that mattered, too.

Those were the pieces, but there were still too many missing, and her heart was heavy when she made her way home that night. It had been a productive day; after the call with Marcus and Antony she had caught up with Fin, and they'd started their searches in earnest, searched VICAP for similar cases, tracked down the financial advisor who helped Andrea manage her money, dug up everything they could find on her family, worked with the unis to comb through endless hours of security camera footage from Andrea's buildings and the ones around it. Fin hadn't asked about McKenna, and Cragen seemed to buy the story about the FBI, but she wasn't sure how long that was going to last; wouldn't Cragen wonder where the feds were, why they weren't getting more help? How long was this case going to drag on, and what would she do with McKenna if she was forced to declare it cold? What was she going to do with McKenna if she solved it? In the moment taking the girl to Elliot had seemed like the only possible choice, but it wasn't a sustainable one; she'd been reacting, moving on instinct, and now she was beginning to worry about the long term.

And she was really, really fucking hungry.

The second she opened the door to Elliot's apartment she could hear the scrambling sound of little feet, and she barely had enough time to put down her bag before McKenna barrelled into her, calling out her name.

"Livia!" the girl said, reaching her little arms up, and Olivia was helpless to resist her, immediately picked her up and cuddled her close. Elliot had been right behind her, though he was walking a little slower, and he smiled when he caught Olivia's eye.

This is nice, she thought. Nice to have a child and a man to come home to. Nice to walk in the door and smell dinner on the air, even if it was just frozen pizza. Nice to have someone to hold, and nice to look, and see Elliot's face there, smiling at her.

"She's been asking about you all day," Elliot said, and that warmed Olivia's heart, not only because it made her feel as if McKenna liked her, but because it meant McKenna had been talking. She'd been so quiet, that first day, hadn't spoken a single word, but apparently the little interview Elliot and Olivia had conducted had loosed the girl's tongue, and now she was talking. That was a good thing, in Olivia's book.

"Elly says we have ice cream now," McKenna told her excitedly.

"Elly?" Olivia repeated, raising her eyebrow at Elliot.

"Don't start," he grumbled, the tips of his ears turning pink as if in embarrassment. "I told her she could have ice cream when you got home."

It was nice, she thought, to have a home.

"Then it's time for ice cream," she said, and McKenna began to wiggle in her arms, eager to get down, to rush into the kitchen for her treat.

"But first," Olivia said, "I have some things for you. Do you want to see what I brought?"

"Presents?" McKenna asked, her blue eyes lighting up in excitement.

"Sort of. I'll show you."

Carefully Olivia set the girl on her feet, and then reached for the bag she'd brought with her. The day had been a busy one, but she hadn't forgotten the conversation she'd had with Elliot that morning, about all the things they'd need. She'd ducked into a store around lunchtime, and picked up a few items for McKenna. Some fresh clothes, some kid's shampoo, a little box containing three plastic and improbably colored toy horses, and a small stuffed rabbit. The stuffed animal had been an impulsive purchase, wasn't really necessary, but it was soft, and sweet, and it made Olivia think of McKenna, made Olivia wonder if the girl would like it.

If the way McKenna squealed when she saw it was any indication, she loved it. Her little hands darted out and took the rabbit from Olivia at once, and clutched it against her chest, rocking back and forth with her little wings fluttering behind her. It was a precious sight, that little girl who had come so close to horror happy, for once, for the moment, with something soft and sweet to call her own, and the image of it, of that joy, would be burned in Olivia's memory forever.

"You did good, Liv," Elliot told her softly, warmly; the expression on his face made it plain that he was as affected by McKenna's happiness as Olivia was. "Now come on, let's eat."

The three of them went into the kitchen together, Elliot and Olivia walking side by side, McKenna rushing ahead with her rabbit caught in her arms. There were empty plates in the sink, a sure sign that Elliot and McKenna had already eaten, but he'd saved a plate for Olivia, and she popped it in the microwave while Elliot scooped McKenna up and sat her in a chair at the table, while he went to fetch her the ice cream he'd promised.

Later tonight, they'd talk about the case. Once they'd eaten, they'd take McKenna into the bathroom, and Olivia would bathe her, and get her changed into her new, clean clothes, and they'd put her down for bed, and then they would sit together in the living room, and talk about what Olivia had learned. She'd tell him everything, tell him about the conversation with Marcus and Antony and the information she'd gathered about Andrea's family, and they'd toss ideas back and forth the way they always did, and maybe by the time she went to bed tonight she'd feel better, about everything. Talking to Elliot had that effect on her; she always felt more settled, more grounded, when he was with her.

Christ, this was nice, but it was dangerous, too, she knew. Even as she took her plate out of the microwave, even as she joined them at the table and laughed with Elliot at the mess McKenna was making of her ice cream, she felt the danger. It was dangerous, to let this kind of happiness into her heart. It would be dangerous, to get used to this, to being part of a family, to having this much love. She wasn't meant for this kind of life, this kind of life where she had everything she ever wanted. Wanting things only ever led to heartbreak, in her experience, and she wanted this, so badly that the wanting pierced her heart like a knife.

"Everything ok?" Elliot asked her, something wary, something knowing in his eyes like he could see it, could see her pain, could see her mourning for something she hadn't even lost yet, something that had never been hers to claim.

"Yeah," she said. "So tell me, what did you do today?"

The time passed slowly, happily, while they talked. While they talked about ordinary things, about the bird McKenna had seen in the window and the cartoons she'd watched and the games she'd played with Elliot. Interspersed with her easy chatter were little clues from Elliot; he did it masterfully, weaving his explanations into their conversation, letting Olivia know that McKenna was a big girl, fully potty trained, letting Olivia know that McKenna had talked to him and displayed an age-appropriate mastery of language, letting Olivia know that McKenna remained sweet natured, and inclined to listen when spoken to. There were questions he hadn't answered yet, questions about how much McKenna understood, if she knew she was never going to see her mother again, but those were grownup questions, scary questions, and she would not ask them in McKenna's presence.

Eventually she finished her dinner, and McKenna finished her ice cream, and now was as good a time as any to give the girl a bath, Olivia figured, since her fingers and cheeks were sticky from the ice cream.

"Ok, sweetheart," Olivia said. "Would you like to take a bath?"

"Are there toys in there?" McKenna asked.

"Yes," Elliot answered. "Rubber ducks, and a pirate ship."

Those must have been Eli's toys, Olivia thought, and the sorrow surged within her with a vengeance; it was heartbreaking to think about, the stark truth that Elliot's family was broken, now, that he didn't get to see Eli every day, any more, that the place where he lived was somewhere Eli only visited, a few toys and clothes tucked away, unused, most of the time, except for those rare occasions when Eli was in residence. Did it hurt Elliot, she wondered; did it hurt him, to see his son's toys unplayed with on the days when Eli was with Kathy, to know that Eli was growing, changing, every minute, and he wasn't there to watch it all unfold? The rubber ducks and the pirate ship, they were a tragedy, Olivia thought. Elliot didn't belong in this apartment with his partner and the girl she'd spirited away; he belonged at home, with his wife and son, and it made Olivia feel as if she had stolen something, somehow. As if she had stolen someone else's life.

But McKenna did need that bath.

"Will you take her into the bathroom?" Olivia asked. "I'll go get the bag."

She'd left it by the front door, and that was where she went, while Elliot took McKenna by the hand and began to lead her away. That was where they were, when it happened; Elliot was holding McKenna's hand, halfway across the living room and almost to the bedroom, and Olivia was five feet from the door.

Olivia was five feet from the door when it splintered like a wrecking ball had crashed through it, and a great and terrible presence swooped inside. Olivia was five feet from the door when McKenna screamed, and a hail of bullets filled the apartment.