Prompt #1: Back to School Night


'Twas the night before school started and the Stabler house was chaos

~oOo~

"But, honey, we want you and Dickie to make your own friends at school. You can play with your brother at recess and at home," Elliot explained for what felt like the millionth time in the last few weeks, adjusting his youngest daughter, who was sitting on his lap, biting her lip and looking intently at him. He shifted on her bed, awaiting her next question about what awaited her in first grade.

"I guess that will be okay, Daddy. But what if I can't learn to read or do math? I want to be able to read big girl books like Mo!" she continued, looping her arms around her father's middle and snuggling closer to him.

Elliot met her serious gaze and took a breath before responding.

"Your teacher taught both your sisters and lots of other children to read AND do math, sweetheart. And if you find it hard, Mommy and I and maybe even Mo and Kitkat will help you, I promise," he replied, trying to cover all his bases.

His eldest stomped past the bedroom door, having emerged from the bathroom. She had several hair tools and accessories in her hands and a frown on her face.

"Maureen, come here, please," he asked.

"What? I'm busy! I need to fix my hair so I'm not a social pariah at high school, and it's impossible to concentrate with World War 3 going on in the bathroom! I don't get why Dickie thinks having his hair washed is torture. The bathroom looks like a tsunami hit it!" she grumbled, yet complying when she caught her father's look.

"Hey, cool it, kiddo," he reprimanded gently, gesturing for her to come and sit on the floor in front of him.

She plonked herself down with an audible sigh of frustration and handed him her hairbrush. "What fashionable hairstyle would you like, Maureen? We can't possibly have you be a social pariah, that would never do," Elliot gently teased, running the brush through the ends of his eldest's blonde locks.

"You can do French braids, right, Daddy?" she questioned.

"Uh-huh, one French braid coming right up. While I'm being your private hair stylist, could you please tell Lizzie how much fun she's going to have in first grade?" he asked, running the brush gently through her lengths, ensuring it was tangle-free.

"First grade is great, Lizzie, you'll see! You're going to have Miss Stevens, right? She's so nice, she's great at reading stories and she has the best ideas for art class. Oh, and the library is really cool, you get to go once a week," she explained, as her father began separating strands of her hair to begin the braid.

"I bet she doesn't read stories as well as Daddy!" Lizzie protested loyally, making Elliot smile and shake his head slightly.

"And what about lunch? I'm scared I'll forget it or I'll lose my money! And Daddy, why are you taking Maureen to school and not me and Dickie? We're the littlest, Daddy's taken you and Kitkat to school a million billion times, Mo!" she declared, eyes widening and her hand tightening on her father's arm.

"Well, if some people weren't completely paranoid, I could take the Subway or the bus or walk to school, like every other Freshman in high school will be. And for lunch, you're not called Kathleen so you won't forget it or lose it," she replied.

As if on cue, Kathleen burst into the room, fists clenched around her book bag, her eyebrows knitted together and her teeth clenched.

"Where is it? I know I put it in here so I wouldn't forget it!" she growled, throwing her navy book bag on her sister's bed, which caused the contents to sprawl out all over it. She then flung herself down on it dramatically, sprawling next to her father.

Elliot finished his eldest daughter's hair then turned to his frustrated middle daughter. "If you tell us what "it" is you're looking for, maybe we can help you?" he said, placing his hands on his child's shoulders as she sat up properly.

"My assigned summer reading, Daddy! And yes, I actually read it, even though it was the most boring book ever!" she exclaimed, anticipating her father's next question. "Check your bag again, Kathleen. You have a copy of it somewhere, right, Maureen?" he declared, knowing that Kathleen would almost certainly not be able to find the offending missing item.

"Yes, Daddy, she can borrow my copy when she inevitably fails to find hers. And it's not boring, it's a classic!" Maureen replied, making no move to get up from her spot on the floor, leaning her head against her father's leg.

"Watch it!" shouted Kathleen, as a blur of sandy-coloured hair and dinosaur pajamas came flying towards the bed.

Elliot intercepted the blur, who put his arms around his neck and planted a big smacker of a kiss on his cheek.

"Hi Daddy! I'm not Stinky Dickie anymore!" he announced proudly, as he settled onto his father's knee, Lizzie wordlessly having shifted over to make room for him. Elliot sniffed his son's hair and armpit theatrically, making Dickie giggle.

"Now everyone is present and correct, let storytime begin!" Elliot declared. His two eldest stayed put, Kathleen leaning against his shoulder as Lizzie reached over to her nightstand, carefully picked up the book, opened it where the bookmark lay, and passed it to her dad.

"Where did we get to? Oh yes, George has just fed his grandma the potion, and his dad is going to help him make another batch, right?" he asked Lizzie, who nodded. Kathy arrived a few minutes later, bearing a paperback book, that she handed to Kathleen. "Thanks, Mom! You're the best! Where was it?" she asked.

"In the laundry basket, honey. You really have to be more organized now you're in middle school…" Kathy trailed off, sitting next to her daughter on the bed to listen to the end of the chapter.

Once Elliot had finished, replacing the bookmark then the book back on the bedside table, the older two got up to return to their rooms, leaving their parents to put the twins to bed. He kissed the top of Maureen's head before she pushed herself back up to a standing position and then placed a hand on Kathleen's arm as she arose. She stopped in her tracks and turned to face her father.

"Everything okay, Kitkat? I know you're a seasoned veteran when it comes to middle school, but you've got this, alright?" he reassured her.

She nodded, kissed his cheek then stuffed all her school supplies haphazardly back into her bag before leaving the room.

Tucking Dickie into bed, then getting him to go to sleep proved quite the challenge, as the little boy was jumping on his bed with excitement and was chattering away about all the cool stuff he'd be able to do in first grade.

The next morning was a flurry of book bags, lunch boxes, forms being checked for signatures and that they had been filled out properly, and breakfast preparation.

Maureen had to be told to eat some toast, as all she wanted was a banana and a yoghurt, Dickie had poured maple syrup not only all over his pancakes but also on the table, the floor, and himself. Luckily Kathy had already snapped pictures of all the kids that would go in the family album for that school year or on the sitting room wall. Kathleen had almost dropped a glass of juice, and Lizzie was upset because she wouldn't feel brave without her Daddy coming to school with her.

"How about I take you and Dickie out to the park after school? We can go for hot chocolate or milkshake at the café too, and you can tell me all about your day and how brave you were," Elliot suggested.

"Yay, the park! Will you make me fly, Daddy?" Dickie replied, grinning wildly.

"Yes please, Daddy! Thank you!" Lizzie answered, gently pressing a kiss to his cheek.

He then kissed Dickie, Lizzie, Kathleen, and Kathy goodbye. He warned Dickie that Queens' Zoo had him on speed dial and he didn't want to hear any reports of missing monkeys turning up at his school, he reassured Lizzie that she was going to have a great day and told Kathleen to take a deep breath, before adding the customary "I love you" to his farewells.

"Let's go, Maureen!" he shouted up the stairs as his eldest had gone up to brush her teeth. He grabbed his car and house keys as she dashed down the stairs, shoved on her jacket, and picked up her army green backpack.

She rushed to kiss Kathy goodbye, who gave her a quick squeeze. She said a collective goodbye to her siblings who replied with a chorus of "See ya!" "Have fun!" and "Good luck!"

She then made her way down the hallway and out of the front door to her father's car, as he was already seated in the driver's seat. She slid into the passenger side, placing her bag in the foot space in front of her, before closing the door and putting on her seatbelt. As Elliot put his keys in the ignition, she fiddled with the radio, trying to find the right frequency for the channel that, according to her, actually played good music.

Several songs later, she turned to Elliot.

"Daddy, it's bad enough that you're driving me to school. I swear nobody else will be getting dropped off at the gate, it's sooo embarrassing! Please just drop me at the corner!" she begged her father.

"Sorry, honey, but that's not happening. Do you know how many young women have been kidnapped less than a block away from their work or school? Too many, and the ones that I find alive are the lucky ones!" he replied, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

"Ugh, fine" she retorted, fiddling with the radio to find another radio show as the adverts had started. She found a satisfactory channel that played hits from the '60s, '70s, and '80s. Father and daughter sang along to several songs, until "Slipping Through My Fingers" by ABBA began. Maureen wasn't familiar with the song, but as she listened to the lyrics, she became aware of her father's quiet demeanor and the expression on his face that he was trying to hide.

She deftly turned the radio knob back to her preferred performers, and the Backstreet Boys crooned that they wanted it that way.

As they approached the school, Maureen spoke up.

"It's OK, you can drive me up to the gate as it's the first day, just this once. It looks like lots of other people have parents who worry just as much as you."

"Gee, thanks, honey. Hope you don't die of embarrassment," Elliot replied, raising an eyebrow at his daughter and giving her a mock-reproachful glare.

He stopped on the pavement right in front of the main doors, where by some miracle there was a space.

"Bye, sweetheart. Have a great first day. I love you," he said, wondering if it would be social suicide if he kissed her cheek.

He heard her say she loved him too, and, before he even had time to process what had happened, she'd deposited a brush of her lips against his cheek and was out of the car and on her way into her new school. He spotted Hannah and Sophie, his daughters' best friends (her BFFs, possibly? There were too many acronyms for things these days, he mused) all getting out of parental vehicles, having been accompanied to the gates for their first day too.

He sighed, hoping Olivia would already be at the precinct and would have picked him up the biggest size of the strongest coffee available from their favorite barista near the precinct.

His instincts proved to be correct, when he approached his desk to find not only an enormous cup full of steaming hot black coffee but also a gigantic cinnamon roll that was about the size of his head.

"Thanks, partner, you're the best!" he told Olivia, as he sat down at his desk and met her sparkling brown eyes and beautiful, kind smile.

"That bad, huh?" she questioned kindly, eager to hear about the Stabler household drama that had preceded the start of a new school year.

"First, please arrest ABBA for writing, composing, and performing 'Slipping Through My Fingers'," Elliot replied, attempting to keep his tone light and the depth of emotion out of it. Olivia snorted but said she'd be right on it, once they got through the mountain of paperwork they had to do after solving the previous case.

He told her the highlights of the previous night, she laughed and empathized in all the right places.

You'd think that after all these years he'd be used to the first day back at school for his kids but it still hit him like an emotional sledgehammer every single time. Apparently it was supposed to get easier as your kids got older, but whoever had said that definitely hadn't procreated.


The author of this SVU - Autumn in New York story will be revealed in November