1. Chapter 1

M**anhattan, June, 1979**

Don Cragen strolled down the busy sidewalk with his wife Marge. But he felt like leading her in a waltz: in the past two weeks he had celebrated two years of sobriety and passed his lieutenant's exam. So, lacking a ballroom floor, he suddenly stopped and swept her into a deep, long kiss.

"Help! Please, somebody, help me pleeese!"

Accustomed to responding to urgencies in their respective roles as police officer and flight attendant, Don and Marge immediately broke apart and hurried to the wide-eyed preteen girl standing in front of a nearby subway entrance. Her knees were oozing blood, and her yellow dress was smeared with dirt. Of course, most of the night crowd was ignoring her, but Don showed his badge as he leaned down kindly.

"What's wrong, honey?" he asked avuncularly.

"M-my mother fell down the steps, and she's not moving!" She began to sob.

"Marge, stay with her and get to a phone!" Don descended quickly.

Reaching the bottom, he dispersed the expected crowd with a firm "Police!" and halted abruptly. On the hard floor below him was a professionally dressed woman, her neck twisted in such grotesque manner that he suspected she was past help. A routine check of her pulse, respiration, and pupils confirmed his sad hunch. Further, she smelled of alcohol. Sighing, he shook his head and reached for the woman's satchel, still with her due to the strap tangled around her arm.

Removing a wallet, he learned a few things. First, the victim was one Serena Benson. Second, she was a college professor. Third, her emergency contact was a woman with a different surname and address.

_I hope it's a relative,_ Don thought. _That poor little girl is in for a rough time._

Meanwhile, above him, a different drama was unfolding. Having called for help from a nearby pay phone, Marge turned her attention to the dark-haired girl fretting beside her. By now tears had started to fall from her brown eyes. Marge also noticed that there were some scrapes and bruises on her bare arms.

"OK, dear, the ambulance is on the way," she said, carefully putting an arm supportively across the child's back. "My name's Marge; what's yours?"

"Olivia. Olivia Benson." She wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands.

"Olivia, I'm going to see that those nasty cuts get taken care of. Now what's your mother's name?"

"Serena---Professor Serena Benson. She's an English professor…" Olivia turned her head in the direction of the approaching sirens. Just then a patrol car pulled up to the curb, and turn uniformed officers, one of them holding a first aid kit, dashed down the subway stairs. Olivia looked towards Marge hopefully.

"Yes, Olivia, they're going to look after your mother," Marge reassured as the approaching ambulance cut its sirens and slowed to a halt.

"I want to go with them."

"No, honey, you might get in the way," Marge said calmly, hiding her worse fears for the girl. "Besides, don't you think we should call your father to let him know what's happen---Olivia, what's the matter?"

Her head was hung so low that her long hair hid the tears that were in her voice. "I… I don't know…where he is."

Marge took the weeping child into a gentle embrace. "It's all right, sweetie," she soothed, "You know I'm here, and I'm not going to leave you alone. I'm going to stay with you as long as you need me. I promise."

Olivia looked up at her inquiringly.

"Yes, I promise." Marge smiled reassuringly, wiping a tear from the girl's cheek.

Just then the two uniforms rush out of the entrance and over to the pair.

"Are you Marge Cragen?" asked the elder of the two.

"Yes---"

"We're taking you and the girl to hospital so she can get checked out." He gestured towards the police car.

"What about Mother? How is she?" Olivia asked anxiously as they moved to the vehicle.

"She's being taken care of," said the partner quickly.

As the car pulled away and moved down the street, a transit officer solemnly watched from the now-blocked off entrance. When the car had disappeared from his field of vision, he spoke into his walkie-talkie: "They're gone, so we can take care of business."


	2. Chapter 2

**NYU Hospital, 2 hours later**

Marge Cragen sat in a private room next to Olivia's bed, watching as she finally fell asleep. It had taken some gentle persuasion, supportive hugs, and hand squeezes to get her through a number of activities: admitting procedures, a physical exam, precautionary x rays, treatment for minor cuts and contusions, and finally a "bedtime snack" in her room. But though she had been calm and cooperative all evening, her last words before dozing haunted Marge: "Wake me when they tell you about Mother."

_She's kept asking about her mother_, thought Marge as she stood to stretch, _and I've_ _been able to put her off. But what happens tomorrow? And where will she go? The only reason I'm here now is because the officers convinced the admitting nurse that it would be easier on Olivia if someone she trusted stay with her until family arrive. But it's been a couple of hours, and no one has even been mentioned…_

Just then, Don entered silently. His face was visibly troubled as he crossed the room. Embracing her, he whispered, "Let's go talk out in the hall."

"So, how bad is it?" Marge asked once they were outside.

He sighed. "She was pronounced dead at the scene

"I figured as much." Her eyes welled sympathetically as she remembered Olivia's words.

Don continued, "From what we've gathered so far, she had some drinks at a bar and grill and couldn't handle the steps. When she fell, she took her daughter with her."

Marge interjected, "During the ride here Olivia did say that she tried to say stop herself and her mother, which must account for some of those scrapes on her hands."

Don nodded. "Alcohol does impair one's mobility, among other things."

"Then what happens now? Have you located her relatives? Although she did mention not knowing where her father is, so I guess that's a problem." Marge gave a sad glance at the closed door.

Don raised his eyebrows. "_She_ doesn't know her father's whereabouts, huh? Well, that certainly helps narrow the list."

"What do you mean?" Marge frowned.

"Social services wants to release her to a relative when she is discharged tomorrow morning. Professor Benson---her mother---had an emergency contact, a girlfriend who was taken out of her own apartment building this evening after passing out drunk in the lobby. So we're canvassing the neighbors and searching the Benson apartment for anything with a relative's name on it. So far that's turned up is the names of a few colleagues, who don't know of any family. Marge, that kid is going to be in no emotional shape for foster care."

"Oh, Donnie," said Marge, sighing, "if only we could take her. I still have a few days off, and I can always take some extra time…"

"I know, that's another reason I came to find you," Don said, brightening somewhat. "You see, you impressed a lot of people here with how you interacted with Olivia. The hospital social worker is willing to recommend an exception and allow us to become her temporary guardians if no relativess can be located by tomorrow."

"But---don't they have to check our home, our backgrounds…"

"They've already called the numbers I gave them. All that remains is for the house to be inspected, which can be done tonight. So, if you're willing…"

Marge gave her assent with a kiss. "Now go home and show that social worker what good job I did this afternoon."

Don kissed her again before departing.

Returning to the room, Marge walked to Olivia's bedside. Tenderly she caressed her cheek.

"I'm keeping my promise. I'm not going to leave you. I'll be here as long as I'm needed."


	3. Chapter 3

**Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, New York City, late the following morning**

Detective Max Greevey was quiet as he transported his passengers: his partner Don, who had selected a navy blue suit for the family court hearing earlier; Marge, who wore a green and white print dress; and Olivia, who had quietly cried herself to sleep during the ride from the hospital. As the father of a baby son, he thanked God that his child had two sets of willing relatives to care for him should the unthinkable occur. This poor child had only one set of relatives---and just barely.

_And when Don hears the rest, he's not going to be happy,_ Max thought as her pulled into the Cragen's driveway.

Not wanting to wake Olivia, the adults moved with quiet efficiency. Don, without closing his door, exited and opened the rear passenger door to carefully lift the girl out. Marge then slide across the seat and left the car without closing door. Taking her keys from her purse, she preceded her husband to the front door. Meanwhile, Max waited until the Cragens were inside before he opened the trunk and removed a large suitcase, which he momentarily put on the drive. After he secured the vehicle, he picked up the luggage and entered the house.

He found Don standing at the open refrigerator in the kitchen. Max nodded when his friend silently offered a 64 ounce bottle of ginger ale. Watching the recovering alcoholic pour two large glass mugs, he couldn't help thinking: _It's not booze, but you're gonna need it._

"Marge is sitting with her in the guest room," Don said once they were seated folding chairs in the backyard. "By the way, thanks for bring the pink and white shorts set. She said it was her favorite." Don almost brightened for a moment, but then said: "She was almost smiling when she first had it on, and then…" Don sighed and looked down at his lap.

"Who told her?" Max asked after a minute.

"Hospital social worker," Don replied. "Olivia…she called the woman a liar, told her to 'shut up' a few times, and went and threw herself in---"Don's voice caught, and he stopped to take a long drink of soda. "Marge and I comforted her," he finished, sighing.

Max glanced away and took a long swallow himself before speaking.

"We found some information about her family---" 

"What?! You waited until now to tell me?!" Don glared.

"We learned about it when you were in court," Max explained a bit defensively. "And it isn't pretty. So when you called the station asking for a ride, I figured I'd wait until we could speak privately so the kid doesn't find out."

"Oh. Sorry I jumped at you, Max," Don said contritely. "Spending so much time helping her through all this, it's becoming personal."

"Personal enough to consider keeping her with you?"

Don smirked. "And just what are you suggesting?"

"Nothing today," Max said with a wink. Then he sobered as he took a notebook from his shirt pocket.

"We found a card for Professor Benson's gynecologist. We had nothing except a few phone numbers 'that are no longer in service,' so I went to see him. Dr. Montgomery Grant noticed signs of vaginal trauma when he diagnosed the pregnancy."

Don sat up in his chair.

Max nodded and continued: "He also noted that, prior to giving birth, she would 'go into a trance' during his examinations." He stopped to drain his glass.

"He suspected rape and tried to convince her to get help, but she refused to discuss it, not even with his nurse," he resumed. "When an aunt began bringing her to her appointments, he tried to enlist her help, but it was no go."

"This aunt, does he remember her name?" Don asked urgently.

"No, but it was in Professor Benson's medical records as the next of kin." Max turned a page. "One Hope Anderson, formerly of Westchester. Her home's new owners had her forwarding address, and I've sent Werner and Phillips down to her South Jersey retirement community."

Don looked thoughtful. "If she's living in a retirement community, she might not be able to take Olivia. Is this Aunt Hope the only lead you have on her relatives, Max?"

"I'm afraid so," Max sighed. "You know, I never lose touch with my aunts and uncles and my cousins' kids. Even if I only hear from them through Christmas cards, I know where they are and vise versa. I honestly don't think this woman had any strong ties to her family, except her daughter. Not even her super remembers seeing any family coming or going. I think it might have something to do with Olivia's dad."

Don nodded. "It's either that or her mother's drinking. Or both."

"Which brings me back to my earlier thought about you and Marge taking her in," Max said.

"I thought you weren't suggesting anything."

Max shrugged playfully. "I lied." Then, more soberly, "Look, we're not giving up on finding someone, but just give it some thought, you and Marge. Just in case." 


	4. Chapter 4

**6PM, the Benson apartment**

"I'm sorry, I can't," Mrs. Hope Anderson said, accepting a glass of lemonade from her longtime friend Iva Stevenson, who had accompanied her from New Jersey. As she returned to the task of organizing the late professor's belongings, her companion took a sip and continued: "Our development will only accept visitors for days at a time, 14 consecutive max." 

"I understand," Don replied quietly, feeling his partner's glance. "Are there any other relatives that can take Olivia?"

"None that I know of," sighed Mrs. Anderson, shaking her head. "My son Bill, who lives in Albany, is single and so devoted to his career that he rarely dates. My daughter Eleanor works and studies in Philadelphia. Besides them, there are some cousins, of course, but they're either like my kids---single and busy---or they're struggling financially or just barely able to make due with their own kids and problems."

"And those are the ones that are suitable," called Mrs. Stevenson, taking a pair of rain boots from near the door.

"Iva, please, stop telling my stories, especially since this isn't our bridge group!" exclaimed Mrs. Anderson. Shaking her head, she told the officers: "She's been doing this since _high school_."

"My wife does the same thing," Max said, smiling. Then he sobered and asked: "You didn't stay in touch after your grandniece's birth?"

Mrs. Anderson sighed and looked into her glass. "Serena just drifted away. As the years went by, she stopped reciprocating Christmas cards, she called less often and fewer and fewer people. In fact, she stopped visiting after Olivia was born. It was as if she didn't want anyone else. It may have had something to do with her drinking or…maybe she was telling the truth…"

"About what?" Don asked.

The old woman looked away before speaking. "She said she was raped while walking from classes one evening. Someone hit her from behind. When she woke up, it was happening."

Don inquired, "But you seem skeptical."

"Well, she did say she was drunk when it happened," Mrs. Anderson explained. "We in the family often wondered if she had a…one-night stand with someone while intoxicated and made up the story to cover up her… behavior."

"What about the doctor's concerned? Didn't you see her 'zone out' on the examination table?" Max could barely keep his tone polite.

Blushing, the great-aunt replied: "He…could have been wild in his intoxicated state. And she could have been daydreaming to get through the exams. Some young women do that when they see the gynecologist."

"I still do it," called Iva from the kitchen.

"Anyway, if she was telling the truth, she may have been trying to avoid a lot of questions about what happened. And a rape _would _explain why she drank so much."

"But you said she started after her parents' car accident when she was sixteen," Mrs. Stevenson reminded.

"Yes, that's right." Mrs. Anderson nodded. "Of course, _if_ she were attacked, wouldn't her drinking become worse?"

"It's hard to say," Don said. "Alcoholics drink for a variety of reasons. But, that's all water under the bridge now. Olivia's welfare is the main concern now."

"Well, why can't that nice couple keep her?" Mrs. Anderson took a long drink of her lemonade.

"Nice couple?" Max turned to his partner with a knowing look.

"She means the husband and wife who have been taking care of since the accident," Iva called over the clanging sounds of cookware. "Those two other detectives mentioned them."

**9:30Pm, the Cragen Residence**

Don sat in the living with Captain O'Farrell, who was also his mentor.

"So, Donnie, are you and Marge sure about this?" the older man asked.

Don nodded. "We discussed the possibility this afternoon after I learned that her aunt lived in a retirement community and that her mother wasn't close with her family."

"And Marge is willing to give up her career?"

"Yes. We've always lived off of my job, mostly," Don said, "so there's…well, let's just say there's room in the budget for one more."

"Then there's the promotion."

"Well, I haven't found a slot open yet, but..."

O'Farrell held up his hands. "No 'buts.' Consider yourself promoted."

"What?" Don was astonished.

"As soon as I heard the rumors, I took the initiative." O'Farrell smiled. "Now, the position wasn't supposed to be available until September, but this captain is a longtime friend as well as a father and grandfather. Plus..."

"What? Why are you so serious all of a sudden?"

"Let's go outside." He stood.

"All right, what is it?" Don asked when they were standing in the backyard.

"Listen, I had Werner and Phillips do a little research for me," O'Farrell said solemnly, "and they found Professor Benson's police statement and medical report. She was definitely raped nine months before Olivia was born."

"Did they ever have any idea who the perp was?" Don asked, frowning.

"No. So this kid has grown up with an absentee scumbag for a father and a drunken 'intellectual' for a mother." O' Farrell looked at Don directly in the eyes before continuing. "We can't prevent every crime, we can't catch every perp, and we can't save every life. But we can give this kid a shot at a better life!"

Don clasped O'Farrell's hand in thanks. "Marge and I _will_ give Olivia a better life. That you---and she---can count on!"

T


	5. Chapter 5

**Bensonhurst, the next morning**

Olivia woke up and had to think for a few seconds. Her bed was not so wide. And why was her bedroom so sunny? Then she remembered in a rush: she was staying in Brooklyn with the Cragens because Mother---she began sobbing.

"Olivia?" Don entered, concerned.

"I-I'm s-s-sorry, Olivia tried to stop weeping. After all, she was a guest and should not be a disturbance. And she knew Mother had always become exasperated whenever she made too much noise, especially on weekend mornings like today.

But her host didn't act upset. Instead, he rubbed her back while holding her close. And his voice was gentle as he spoke.

"I know it's not easy, Olivia. But Marge and I are going to be here for you."

She lifted her head, surprised despite her grief. Did he mean that she was going to live with them? She had assumed that she would go to live with her mother's oldest friend and longtime drinking buddy Susan Fields. Then she would resume her life as she had always live it: serving morning coffee and aspirin, preparing her own breakfasts, keeping to herself in public, and trying to stay out of the way as much as possible. Only now there would never be any special times with Mother.

One of those times had been Thursday, just two days ago. Olivia had finished with a perfect report card and even had been "Student of the Month" at her school. So Mother had taken her to the trendy ice cream parlor that all of her classmates had raved about. Rare were the wonderful occasions when the two would talk pleasantly about recent personal events, something funny on television, future plans for school/career, or the plots of mystery novels---just like regular mothers and daughters. The chocolate chip hot fudge sundae with chopped walnuts and rainbow sprinkles tasted all the sweeter.

But afterward Mother had moved towards that bar and grill "for my own treat."

"Mother, do we have to? There's plenty of Merlot left over from last night, and I think there's half a bottle of champagne left over from the faculty party---"

"Now Livvie, don't start whining. I haven't had any strong all day, so one drink won't hurt."

"I wish you wouldn't---"

"Listen, if you're going get maudlin about it, just wait out here. It's going to be just one drink."

_But it wasn't 'just one drink.' Mother was there for a long time, and when she came out, she was so drunk that she could hardly walk. I tried to help her to the curb so she---I could call a cab, but she moved towards the subway. I reminded her that it was too dangerous---that's what she always said---but she hit my head and told me to be quiet and she kept going to the stairs and I wanted to stop her but I was afraid I'd pull too hard and send us both down and so I held onto her so she wouldn't fall but she fell and I wasn't strong enough and she was too heavy and we went down down down down down---_

With simmering emotions set off by the memories, Olivia buried her head into Don's shoulder and cried piercingly. Each sob was an effusion of anger, sorrow, regret, and fear. She clasped Don tightly, and then her hands tugged and clawed his shirt.

Don, having witnessed this same agonizing tempest at fallen officers' funerals, patiently held the grieving child until her sobs ebbed into rhythmic breaths. Gently he tucked her back under the covers and kissed her cheek lightly. Standing, he turned and saw Marge sympathetically standing in the doorway, her face stained by tears. That's when he became aware of his own.

**Two hours later**

Waking up, Olivia decided to face her day. As she retrieved her green bathrobe from the other side of the bed, she forced herself not to think about her mother. Instead, she focused on the future.

_Officer Cragen said that I was going to live here or something like that. I'd better make sure that's right. Hey, I hear voices---even a kid's voice. Who could it be? A neighbor? Maybe I'll be able to make friends here._

Suppressing a surge of internal havoc, Olivia rushed out of her room and hurried to the living room. She didn't care that she wasn't appropriately dressed; she needed a distraction---fast. As she ran, she donned and fastened her robe.

"Good morning, Olivia!" The officer returned her seeking embrace.

"Good morning, Officer Cragen," she replied, relaxing.

He gently lifted her chin. "First, please stop calling me 'officer.' I'm a _Detective_ Cragen at work, but at home I'm Donnie."

"OK…Donnie."

"Second," he continued as he slowly turned her, "let me introduce you to Officer Jim Stabler and his son Elliot. They want to help move the rest of your things here."


	6. Chapter 6

**The Cragen residence**

Olivia quickly took in the visitors. Officer Stabler was tall with short blond hair, blue eyes, and a stocky build. Elliot was a smaller, lankier, dark-haired version of his father. He seemed to be about her age, 11-years-old. Suddenly she became self-conscious and felt her olive cheeks warm.

"Hello," said the Stablers, and Elliot added: "I'm sorry about your mother."

Unprepared for condolences, Olivia felt her emotions surge anew. Tears swam in her eyes, but she managed to keep them in check. Turning abruptly, she muttered something about getting dressed and excused herself to run upstairs to her room.

"Nice going, Elliot," Officer Stabler said sternly.

"It's not his fault," Don said gently. "She's been going through a lot in the past two days."

"But I told him to speak only when spoken to." Stabler glared down at his crestfallen son. "Go wait out in the car." He jerked his thumb at the door.

A few seconds after Elliot had fled outside, Max walked through the door. He carried a small covered garment on a hanger. After greeting Don, he turned towards Officer Stabler.

"I take it you're the father of that speedy youngster outside?"

"Yes, I'm Jim Stabler of Queens," grinned the cop, shaking hands. "Nice to meet you---Max, is it?"

"Max Greevey. Nice to meet you, too."

Don continued to smile cordially as he thought: _You wouldn't be acting so friendly if you saw "Dad Stabler" in action, Max._

Upstairs, Olivia sniffled under the shower. _I want to make friends, but I can't even say 'thank you' without breaking into tears. When will it stop? And he was such a nice boy, too. He was so serious and yet so kind. If he has a sister, it will probably be nice to have her as a best friend._

Suddenly realizing that she was cogitating about less troubling matters, Olivia felt stronger. After shutting off the water, she stepped out of the tub and dried herself. Then she put on her robe, scooped up her night clothes and opened the bathroom door to see two concerned adults.

"Are you all right, dear?" Marge asked.

_No, not really. _But Olivia nodded.

"Listen," Don said, rubbing her shoulder, "I'm going to the apartment with some colleagues to get your things. We'll going to redo the guest room and make it into your room. How does that sound?"

_They want me! They__ really__ want me! _Olivia threw her arms around Don, burying her face in his shirt to hide her tears of happiness.

**The Benson apartment**

Approximately 90 minutes later, Olivia's former abode was an area of activity. Elliot carried shopping bags (packed by Jim) of food to their car. Max carried a cardboard box containing Professor Benson's perfumes, bath salts, and scented powder to his car trunk, which held the remainder of Olivia's wardrobe. An officer named Eames dismantled the child's twin bed. Then, he and Phillips carried the components to Eames' van (Phillips: _On his salary?!_) parked across the street. ("Don't forget the bed linens; they're in this box!" called Iva.)

Meanwhile, Don handled the most personal items. First, he took all photographs and albums down to his car. Then he locked the mother's jewelry in his car's trunk. Finally, Mrs. Anderson handed him Olivia's school report cards and medical records with a card from Professor Benson's attorney. These items also went into the trunk.

Finally, Olivia's collection of books and toys were packed. Elliot removed the books from the shelf and carried them in stacks to Max's car and carefully placed them on the backseat floor. Then Phillips managed to fit the bookcase in the back of his car.

"Pop the trunk, Elliot!" Jim ordered as he, Don and Max exited the building carrying a short stack of board games and two boxes cardboard boxes. After the items were fitted inside and the lid shut, a horn sounded from across the street. Everyone looked up to see Eames in the van. Phillips' vehicle was already in the street, ready to go.

"We'll get it set up now!" Eames said, waving as he slowly pulled away from the curb to follow Phillips.

Watching the van go down the street, Don said: "That's one headache I don't need."

"What's that? Assembling furniture or I.A.B.?" Max quipped.

Even Elliot, who had been regularly warned to "stay out of man talk", laughed at that one.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Cap'n Crunch is a registered trademark owned by the General Mills Company

**Monday, Manhattan, 11AM**

Wearing the black dress that Max had brought for her Saturday, Olivia walked slowly into the sanctuary of the Protestant church, flanked by her guardians. She had helped her mother into bed many times, but now she clasped Don's arm with both hands. She also appreciated Marge's supportive touch on her shoulder. She was hardly mindful of her great-aunt and cousins who followed.

As she made her sad journey towards the front left pew, she scanned the attendees in the pews. She recognized several teaching assistants and a few professors. She also spotted Officer Phillips, who had brought her bookcase to Bensonhurst. Next to him were the policeman Eames, who had the van, and his wife, son, and two daughters. Just one pew ahead sat Max and his wife, who held a toddler on her lap

_Where's Elliot?_

Then she saw Officer Stabler sitting across the aisle from Max. Beside the tall blond man sat his dark-haired wife, a baby sleeping on her shoulder. Elliot was beside her, holding a small blond girl who wrapped a chubby arm around his neck. Two younger boys were to his right.

_Lucky him. Siblings---I'll bet he never gets lonely._

Soon, they were all seated in their pew, and the service began. First, the minister led a prayer. Then fellow instructors and former students shared admiring memories about her mother.

A female graduate student said: "She was so patient."

_But she was never patient with me._

A male author declared: "I've never had a more supportive guide."

_I supported __her_

The chairman of the college's English Department praised: "Serena Benson was as passionate about enlightening young minds as she was about the literature she taught."

_She never even read to __me_

Suddenly, Olivia's emotions swelled again. The closed casket blurred as tears streamed down her cheeks. She accepted Don's handkerchief as she leaned into his arms and sobbed for the woman who had done so much for others---except for her only child.

**The Cragen Residence, 1:30PM**

Of all the guests, only a handful remained, performing diverse duties. Max, holding his son's tiny hand, went to place the re-covered black dress in his car. His wife Marie washed dishes in the kitchen. Iva Stevenson, who had remained behind to prepare the repast, packed and wrapped leftovers. Mrs. Anderson and her children joined Don and Captain O' Farrell in the backyard.

"Your wife has her resting in bed now," said Eleanor. "I saw her rubbing Olivia's back. I know she's in good hands."

"Both of their good hands," her brother Bill added. "But, I know from my work in legal circles---I work for a lobbyist---that adopting her under the circumstances is easier said than done. How do you plan to accomplish it?"

"Well," Don explained, a bit hesitantly, "the new social worker, who's quite sympathetic, is 'looking for a suitable family member to take her.' She says she'll 'get back to us as soon as she can' because she's 'busy with many more critical matters that require her attention.'"

"Ohhh." Bill nodded knowingly.

"So in the meantime, Marge and I are going get Olivia settled in with us," Don continued. "Then we're going to go before this liberal family court judge that O' Farrell is on friendly terms with."

"We worship at the same parish," explained the police captain. "Because Don and Marge_ are _decent, I know he'll forgive the social worker for dragging her feet and make an exception, especially if the closest family members give written consent."

Mrs. Anderson nodded. "We can do that tonight," she told her children, "back at the apartment. Bill can help draw up the agreement and get it notarized at work and send it to you and your wife."

"Sure," said Bill, while his sister nodded. "Whatever it takes to keep her out of the foster care system." He grimaced. "That's something else I'm all too familiar with."

"As are we." O' Farrell solemnly nodded in agreement.

**Thursday, 8AM**

It was a quiet morning so far. Olivia finished her last spoonful of Cap'n Crunch and drank her orange juice. Don finished his toast and drained his mug of coffee. Marge rose, picked up her plate and Olivia's bowl ("Thank you, Marge."), and put them in the sink.

Then the telephone rang.

As Marge moved to answer, Don said to Olivia, "It's probably for me. There are still a few loose I have to tie up before I take my new position."

But then Marge said: "But Mother, that's tomorrow! There's no need to rush over because, well, I have all the time in the world now."

While Don rolled his eyes, she continued: "No, no nothing like that! Well, maybe somewhat like it…I don't need to see a doctor because she's adopted."

_Grandma? _Olivia felt her heart skip until she noticed Don sitting with his hand on his forehead, his elbow resting on the table. _Maybe she's not nice. After all, she wasn't here at the---Monday. Or maybe Don and she fight all the time. _Suddenly she felt the familiar pang of anxiety.

Sighing, Marge hung up the phone and faced her family.

"My parents are going to be here this _afternoon._"


	8. Chapter 8

**Bensonhurst, late afternoon**

While Olivia sat on the living room sofa, the Cragens greeted the Hamiltons. Marge hugged and kissed both of her parents. Don cordially shook Mr. Hamilton's hand and stiffly smiled as he likewise greeted his mother-in-law, who then turned her attention to the preteen who stood as she was approached.

"So, this is the foster child?" Mrs. Hamilton said.

"She's calling you that because the adoption isn't official yet," Mr. Hamilton promptly explained, extending his hand.

_It's already official with me and Marge, __**Mrs. Hamilton!**_ Don thought, barely able to maintain a polite façade.

"Here's a present for our new grandchild," Mr. Hamilton continued, handing the girl a gift wrapped box. "And, by the way, you smell nice!"

"Thank you, Grandpa," Olivia said before opening her gift.

"You didn't have to perfume her for us, Marge," Mrs. Hamilton said.

Don said a bit testily: "Actually, she put on some of her mother's---"

"Oh, look!" Olivia broke in, holding up the heat-shaped silver locket and chain. "Thank you, Grandpa and Grandma."

"You're welcome, dear." Mr. Hamilton smiled. "You can put your parents' portraits inside."

Don felt himself relaxing. His father-in-law, as usual, was trying to get along with him and to acquiesce in the situation. If his mother-in-law held herself in check, this could be a halfway decent evening.

"Well, Marge, do you think you will miss working?" Mrs. Hamilton said an hour later over dinner.

"No," her daughter replied. "In fact, I already enjoy going to bed with Donnie every night."

"Marjorie!" Her mother looked so scandalized that Don almost laughed.

"She means that she missed him whenever she had to be out of town," Mr. Hamilton glanced furtively at Olivia, who seemed perplexed but kept silent.

"And," Marge said, continuing her original line of thought, "I'll be very busy in the coming days, in part because as the wife of a lieutenant and precinct commander, I have to visit new mothers, organize baby showers, attend baptisms and christenings, and weddings, bar mitzvahs, and bridal showers. And that's not counting those of our friends!"

When Olivia joined in the resulting laughter, Don and Marge exchanged encouraged looks. Now the girl was taking another step toward recovery. One more thing to tell the child psychiatrist recommended by the acquaintance who had lent them the black dress (via Max) had recommended.

"Besides, I have to get Olivia set for school. Tomorrow we're registering her at the neighborhood school---"

"What?!" Mrs. Hamilton interrupted. "You can't send her to a public school. She probably went to the best private academy that her mother could afford. Isn't that right, dear?" She turned to address the girl.

"I…I," Olivia stammered, "I---want to be excused!" She bolted from the room and fled upstairs.

Don took a few moments to calm down before acting. Then he said: "Please leave now. Forgive me for not seeing you to the door, but my daughter needs me now."

He then quickly departed.

"Ah, Marge," Mr. Hamilton began.

But his daughter silenced him with a somber gesture. "Let's just walk you and Mother to the car," she said quietly, her disappointment evident.

Knocking on her bedroom door, Don entered to find Olivia lying on her bed. She was sobbing with her back turned towards him. Closing the door, he moved to her side and sat next to her, taking her in his arms.

As her arms embraced him in turn, he rubbed her back. "It's all right, honey."

"No, it's not," she said brokenly. "I can't…I can't talk about…about…"

"That's normal, Olivia," Don soothed. "I couldn't talk about my parents' for a long while after they were gone."

"Really?" She looked at him.

He nodded. "In time you will be able to deal with it better."

"How?"

"Would you like to speak to someone who can help you with this?" He knew he was taking a chance.

"You mean like a shrink? OK." Olivia sniffed.

Don was surprised and relieved at the same time. Although he wasn't surprised that she knew what a psychologist or psychiatrist was, he hadn't expected for her to accept assistance from an outsider so readily. Most adults were hesitant to see a shrink.

_But then again, she probably had the kind of home life that made a stranger, at least a helpful stranger, seem like a possibly better alternative. Maybe that's one of the reasons she initially took to me and Marge like she did. _

Just then, there was a tapping on the door, followed by Marge's cautious entrance. She moved across the room to sit next to Don. Putting her arms around them both, she kissed their cheeks before speaking.

"My parents said they're sorry," she said slowly, "and they want to take us out to dinner someday, when you're up to it, Olivia. They also want you to meet your Uncle Theodore and his fiancée Nessie. But only when you're ready."

"OK." Olivia leaned against Don and squeezed Marge's hand.

"Marge and I will be there for you," he assured her. "Just like we're here now."

Closing her eyes, the girl rubbed her head against Don and squeezed Marge's hand again.


	9. Chapter 9

**Friday, 2:13PM, Office of Dr. James Frances, Brooklyn, New York**

While Olivia doodled in another room, the Cragens sat together in Dr. Francis' office. For about 15 minutes he asked them questions about their lives and some of things they had written on some of the forms they had filled out earlier. Then he asked them about Olivia. Don and Marge answered all the questions honestly, including the ones pertaining to Don's drinking and recovery.

"Well," Dr. Francis said eventually, "young Olivia has been going through the usual stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Of course, there are varying degrees of each, and one can go through two or more simultaneously, which she appears to be doing."

"How is she doing that?" Marge wanted to know.

"Well, having experienced denial and anger, she's currently going through the latter three. She feels she should have done something to prevent her mother's accident, and she is sad by her passing. But she looks forward to a new life with you."

"Well, the feeling is mutual," Don said, smiling slightly. Then he sobered. "But what do we do to help her through the rest, besides be patient and supportive?"

"First, for the immediate future, keep social interactions to a minimal," the psychologist stated. "You can take her out to dinner with other adults in your family or social circle. But don't expect her to interact, at least beyond listening or 'please pass the ketchup.'"

"In other words, dinner with my in-laws is still on as long as nobody says much of anything to her," Don said, smirking.

"Correct," he replied, "especially anything pertaining to her mother or her former life."

"We'll be sure that doesn't happen again," Marge stated firmly.

"Second," Dr. Francis continued, "start a family routine as soon as possible. I realize you're in flux regarding your careers, but with a predictable---well, as predictable as possible in these fluctuating times---daily and/or weekly schedule, she will be able to adapt faster. Then she will find the security that all children need develop emotionally as well as cope with losses and transitions."

"Speaking of routines," Don said a bit hesitantly, "AA meetings are a part of mine."

Dr. Francis nodded. "I was about to get into that. Bring up the subject casually, as if it's a normal part of life. Then explain why you go and how positively it impacts you life. Be ready to answer any questions she may have, and reassure her, if necessary, that your drinking is under control. This can not only help her to understand your situation, but it may very well help bring her out of the bargaining phase. Alcoholism is not something that the family member controls, especially not a child."

"What if she's bothered by it nevertheless? What if it brings back bad memories?" Don wanted to know.

"Explain to her how your situation is different from her mother's," Dr. Francis said. "If that doesn't reassure her, please give me a call." He checked his watch before continuing.

"I think we've set up the course for Olivia's counseling. Mrs. Cragen brings her back Monday, same time? At this point, one parent is enough, and she's the primary caregiver."

"I'll be back on the job by then," Don said, nodding.

"Olivia and I will be here Monday, 1:30," Marge said.

"Oh, and one last thing," Dr. Francis added as he rose to shake hands. "Don't neglect yourselves. You seem to have a strong marriage, which will help Olivia in the long run. Continue to devote as much time as possible to the needs of your relationship. And of course, please use discretion regarding your intimacies."

**Saturday morning, 8AM**

"Olivia, I have to go finish cleaning out my desk today," Don said over breakfast. "Would you like to come help me? We could go out to lunch afterward."

"Really?" Olivia looked surprised. Then she turned to look at Marge. "Aren't you coming?"

"No, I have to run some errands, including give notice with the airline," Marge said. _Plus, I'm going to meet my mother for tea, I don't know if you want to face her again yet!_

"Well, all right, then," said Olivia.

"Great!" Don smiled. When you're finished with your cereal, get ready, and we'll leave as soon as you come down."

Fifteen minutes later she was inside her bedroom getting ready. She chose to wear her favorite pink and white shorts set with her blue sneakers and white knee socks. She combed and brushed her long brown hair and put it in a single ponytail. After selecting _Little Women _to read in case they ran into gridlock, she went downstairs. As she reached the living room, Olivia found herself looking forward to the trip. And when Don greeted her with a smile and a gentle caress of her cheek, she understood why.

_If this is what having a daddy's like,_ she thought as he took her hand, _then everything is going to be all right. Someday._


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Little Women was authored by Louisa May Alcott, and I don't own the rights to "Papa's Got a Brand New Bag," which gets paraphrased at one point in the chapter. Further, Coke is a registered trademark of the Coca-Cola Company.

**Manhattan, Saturday**

As the car moved into Manhattan, Olivia closed her book and looked out the window, feeling a rush of emotions. In a way, it felt like a homecoming or a reunion. But there was also a sadness that she would not put into thoughts. She couldn't!

"Donnie," she asked suddenly, "when are you and Marge going to adopt me?"

"Well, I guess in another couple of months, honey," he replied, surprised but warmed by her question.

"What should I call you?"

He shrugged. "Daddy's fine, if you like it."

"What should I call Marge?" She turned to look at him.

Don frowned slightly. "That's a good question. How about---Marmee, like in your book?"

Her eyes widened. "How do you know about Little Women?"

He laughed. "When I was at St. John University, I read the book as part of my English I class."

"You went to college?!"

"Olivia, cops don't just go to the academy. There are educational requirements," Don explained as he parked the car.

Soon, they were inside the main office area, or the bullpen, as Don called it. Men and women looked up from their desks and smiled. Some began to greet them enthusiastically.

"Heads up, it's the new Lt.!"

"Yeah, and he's got company!"

"Hello there, little lady!"

"Donnie's got a brand new bag!"

"All right, everybody!" Captain O' Farrell tried to look stern. "We're all glad to see Lt. and Miss Cragen, but this is a police station. So all of you, back to work---except for you, Max."

"I got a box waiting for you," Max said, after the final chuckles had ended. "Not that I'm rushing you. I just want to help."

"Excuse me." Cragen turned to Olivia and gave her money and instructions to purchase three Cokes from a machine. When she had left the room, he faced Max and tightly clasped his hand.

"You've already helped me more than I can repay you," he said, misty-eyed. "Thank you for giving me the nudge, partner. If it weren't for you, I probably wouldn't have this job, possibly my marriage, and definitely not Olivia."

"Hey, I was only doing what a good Catholic friend would do," Max answered, smiling warmly.

"Well, a lot of guys would have just let me hand myself."

"Donnie, I'm not just a guy---I'm your partner." Then he gave a laugh. "I mean, I was your partner. But I'll always be your friend."

"I think that deserves a toast," Don said, taking a Coke from an arriving Olivia. "Here's to friendship"

"Amen," replied Max, touching cans with Don before doing the same with Olivia, who smiled a bit overwhelmingly.

After Don's belongings had been packed in the car, the two went to lunch at a diner he had frequented. There she ate her largest meal since her mother's passing: a cheeseburger, French fries, a medium ice tea, and a slice of dill pickle. Don, who had two hot dogs, French fries, and a large ginger ale, made a mental note to pass this information to Marge. Dr. Francis would want to be informed.

Then, they traveled to his new precinct in Queens, where outgoing Captain Bernard Richards greeted them warmly and took them on a tour. At the booking area, Olivia was fingerprinted and photographed. ("Let this be the only time, young lady," Don warned jokingly.) After visiting other parts of the building, they returned to the bullpen, where they met a familiar person.

"Hello Officer Stabler," she greeted, smiling.

"Oh, hello, Olivia, right?" he extended his hand.

"Yes, and this is---this is my father!" Still trying to handle her various emotions, she momentarily forgot that the men had met before.

But Jim, having known his share of grieving young survivors, merely greeted Don warmly and made small talk. He briefly mentioned the case he had arrived to discuss with two other detectives. Then he made them both farewell and departed to get a soda.

"How is Stabler as a cop?" Don asked.

"He's reliable and gives 101," Richards responded. "The guy has a real passion for his job." The captain then turned his attention to the girl. "Did you know that he has a son about your age?"

"Oh, yes," Olivia smiled brilliantly. "Elliot."


	11. Chapter 11

**Many hours later**

Olivia had a nightmare. In her sleeping mind she was eating lunch at the diner with Don and Marge. Then she saw Elliot though the glass window, watching her with those kind blue eyes. She immediately ran outside, but somehow he was no longer there. Then she saw him down the street. She hurried towards him, only to fall down into a subway entrance that appeared out of nowhere! She tumbled down the dark, cold stairway until she landed next to Mother, whose neck was so horribly twisted! Then the woman turned her face towards Olivia and demanded in an accusing rasp: "Why didn't you save me?!"

"Aieeee!!" Olivia sat up in bed screaming. "Daddy! Daddy!"

There was a pounding of footsteps, and then Don and Marge, wet and clad in bathrobes, burst into her room. Reaching her bedside, he swept the child into his arms. His wife stroked her hair gently, whispering comfort.

"It's all right, honey. It was just a dream, and it's morning now." She kissed her neck.

"B-but it was so bad," Olivia said tearfully. "I was falling down the subway stairs and it was dark and scary and cold and I-I-I…landed next to, next to Mother. And she talked to me! She was mad because…because I couldn't---I couldn't…"

"Was she angry because you couldn't save her?" Don interjected gently.

Olivia nodded.

"Honey, your mother's death was not your fault," explained Don patiently. "Your mother had a disease called alcoholism, and unfortunately she never learned to control it." He paused to give her time to consider his words.

"But, how do you control it?" she asked after a long pause.

"By not drinking, one day at a time. It's not easy, though," Don replied. "That's why I go to Alcoholics Anonymous meetings."

"I leaned about Alcoholics Anonymous watching a TV movie," Olivia said. "I even mentioned it to Mother once. But she said she didn't need it because she didn't 'drink all the time.'"

"I didn't drink all the time either," Don said, "but I still had a problem. Look, why don't we continue this discussion over breakfast?"

"Okay." Olivia nodded.

But before he went downstairs, Don excused himself to perform two tasks. First, he went to the bathroom and turned off the shower. Then he hastened to the master bedroom and quickly put on a pair of pajama pants.

**July 4, 1979**

Olivia and Marge surprised Don with a picnic supper at his new precinct. He had been disappointed that he couldn't spend the day with his family, so he was moved almost to tears by the appearance of his wife and "daughter" with sandwiches, fruit, and ginger ale. Olivia, for her part, was delighted to see her last school portrait in a frame on his desk.

After a while, Olivia excused herself to go to the bathroom. She remembered its location from the tour. When she exited minutes later, she almost collided with a familiar person.

"Elliot?!" Her eyes popped.

"Oh, hi Olivia!" Now the blue eyes sparkled. "How are you?"

"Fine, Elliot. Marmee---that's Mrs. Cragen---and I surprised Daddy with dinner. Are you here to surprise your dad?"

"No," he replied, "we went to a parade earlier, and then we stopped off here so that he could get ready for work. Mom's picking me up as soon as the sitter arrives from her grandmother's to watch my brothers and sisters. You see, my brothers have chicken pox, and my sisters are too young, so Dad and I went to the parade together."

"It was sure cool of your father to take you out," Olivia said. "He's obviously a very nice man."

"Yeah, I guess," Elliot said almost soberly. "Look, I better get back to the room. If someone tells Dad I was goofing around, I'm sunk." He quickly started up the hall.

"Hey, wait up!" She fell in step with him, causing him to laugh.

When they reached a room with large glass windows and blinds, she asked: "Uh, Elliot, what are the schools like in Bensonhurst?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. I live in Queens, and besides, I go to Sisters of Mercy anyway."

"Oh." Olivia was disappointed. "I was hoping---I was hoping that I could make a friend from the force."

"Hey, don't worry, Olivia." Grinning widely, Elliot opened the door. "There's a lot of police officers' kids in, like, every New York schools. Just look in the principle's office."

They both laughed at that one.

**August, 1979**

For the first time since she moved to Brooklyn, Olivia felt restless. She usually read, watched television, wrote in the journal that her psychologist wanted her to keep, and if Marmee asked, helped with chores. But this morning after breakfast, she just didn't feel like doing any of her usual "recreational" activities, and all of the chores were caught up at the moment. So, she went outside ("Stay in the yard, sweetie!") to skip rope on the driveway near the sidewalk.

_It's so strange. I've been here for almost 2 months, and yet it's as if I'm seeing this neighborhood for the first time. _

Two teenage girls on ten-speed bikes rode pass, taking loudly and excitedly. Olivia paused to watch them as they continued their animated journey. They suddenly burst out laughing, gave each other "five", and sped up.

_School's going to start soon. I wish I knew what to expect. Well, I'll just make some friends. _

She had resumed skipping rope when she suddenly remembered Elliott's joke. She began to laugh heartily. Soon, she had to stop and lean over, her hands on her knees. It had been weeks since she had heard it, but for some reason it seemed particularly humorous now.

"Hey, yo, what's so funny?"

Unaccustomed to anyone seeking her out, Olivia sobered abruptly as she stood up straight. Sitting on a high handle bar bicycle was a boy about her age. He had rather wavy dark hair, deep-set brown eyes, and at that moment, an expression of curiosity.

"It's…a joke. A friend told me. Who---I mean, my name is Olivia---Olivia Cragen."

He smirked. "My name is---Kenny---Kenny Briscoe."


	12. Chapter 12

Olivia soon learned more about her visitor. First, he lived six blocks away with his parents and teenage sister ("She's a piece of work!"). Also, his dad was a city building inspector. Most importantly, his uncle was a New York City Police Detective.

"Wow! Really?! My father's a police lieutenant!" Olivia exclaimed.

"Yeah?! Which precinct?"

Meanwhile, standing behind the storm door, Marge watched the scene with misty eyes. Olivia was actually socializing! Now, she was even laughing with her guest.

_Don will definitely want to hear about this when he gets home_.

"Sorry I missed dinner, dear," Don said many hours later as he walked into the bedroom.

Looking up from her book, Marge tenderly returned his kiss. "What was that 'urgent situation' you referred to over the phone?"

"Well," Don explained as he disrobed, "one of my men came to work very badly hung-over---for the third time in as many weeks. So I told him to see me after his shift. To make a long story short, Bill W. has a new friend named Lennie Briscoe."

Marge raised her eyebrows. "Does he have a nephew named Kenny?"

Don paused to think. "Well he did mention a nephew who 'idolizes the heck out of' him," he said as he put his clothes in the hamper. "Why?"

"This morning, Olivia decided to jump rope in the drive---"

"She did?!"

"Yes! And soon Kenny rode up on his bike," she said. "She told me all about him and his family later."

"I guess it is 'a small world after all,'" Don said thoughtfully, sliding into bed beside her. "Wait 'til I tell Lennie tomorrow. But the most important is that our little girl is really starting to move forward."

"And there's something more," said Marge, as she put her book on the nightstand. "When she came inside for lunch, Olivia asked if we could adopt her before school begins. And I said---"

She was cut off by his joyous kiss, which was merely a prelude…

**Family Court, Brooklyn, New York, 3 days later**

After the judge's cheerful decision, the newly official Cragen family went into a celebratory mode. First, they posed together while their lawyer took photographs outside the courthouse. Next, they happily dined at the Queens diner that had become Don's new lunch and occasional dinner haunt. Finally, they drove to the Greevey home for a festive evening of cake and coffee, with milk for Olivia and little Max, Jr.

During the evening there were a few quick visitors. O' Farrell ("Yeah, Max clued me in!") stopped by to give Don a cash gift that all of his former coworkers had contributed to. Shortly after his departure, Police Officer John Eames arrived with a questionably large K Mart gift certificate. Still later, Detective Lennie Briscoe arrived with his wife and two young daughters, who immediately went to greet Max Jr.

"Nothing charms a girl like a living doll," their father quipped.

"Thanks. That's why he's name after me." Max laughed as he accepted a playful swat on the back from his wife Marie.

"Anyhow, we all chipped in to give you this," Lennie continued, handing Don an envelope.

"And Mommy put some extra for helping Daddy with, uh…whachamacallit," called the elder daughter from her spot on the floor near Max Jr.

"Big mouf!" yelled the younger one, pointing at her sister triumphantly.

"Honey, what did we say about 'family business?'" her mother said firmly and gently.

"Sorry," the girl said contritely before turning back to the winsome toddler.

"Look, you didn't have to…"

"Please, accept it. After all, it's all for a good cause," smiled Lennie.

"A cause for celebration!"

"Big mouf a'giiinnn!"

"Girls, it's time to go before you get Daddy fired," Lennie said half-jokingly. The children responded laughing, as if their father had made the sardonic remark before.

"Don't worry about it, Lennie," Don laughed, shaking the other man's hand. "That's just the way they are at that age."

"Oh, swell, thanks for the preview, pals," Max said in mock anger.

Everyone laughed, including Max, Jr., who didn't understand what was going on, not that it mattered.

**June, 1980**

From the recovery journal of Don Cragen:

…_it's been a year already since Olivia came into our lives. Needless to say, a lot has changed. She's made friends at school and in the neighborhood and brings them over to the house. She also visits them at their homes, particularly the Briscoe home. I think Kenny has a crush on her, though it seems to be unreciprocated. Besides, I think her heart belongs to Elliott Stabler. I've seen how she looks at him at various police functions and when their paths happen to cross at the stationhouse, and the last time I think he looked back at her the same way. Which brings me to a more serious matter weighing on my mind. _

_Recently I.A.B. has asked me about a few of my men. I feel bad enough---no precinct commander wants corruption under his watch---but what's worse is one of the names under investigation: James R. Stabler. Now, I'm grateful for brother-in-law Theo's gift of summer camp. With Olivia away for three weeks, she won't be around, hopefully, when/if the other shoe drops. She has had such a good year---after her mother's funeral---even my mother-in-law has accepted her (a blessing and a curse, given her generosity)---I'd hate to see her upset by the stress of wondering if she will ever see her possibly future boyfriend again. Even if she somehow hears about it on a portable radio (unlikely, as campers are advised not to bring them) at least she will have many other activities to take her mind off of matters. If only I were so lucky._

"So, are you all set for camp?" Don asked, smiling across the dinner table.

"I'm all set." Olivia nodded. "I can't wait to show them how I can throw a ball overhand!"

"Didn't the brochure say 'softball'?" Marge raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, but I want to demonstrate what you taught me, Daddy, during my free time." Olivia speared a tomato happily.

Don smiled proudly. "Just make sure you show good sportsmanship, Olivia. And offer to show the others how to do it."

"Of course, Dad," the girl replied. "Hanging out with Kenny has taught me a lot about the male ego."

"'The male what'?" Don looked surprised and amused. "Sounds more like you've been hanging out with Kenny's sister." He turned to Marge. "Lennie says she's very opinionated---but real smart about it."

"Uh huh. She keeps up with current events, celebrities, and all kinds of local stuff." Olivia took wiped her mouth and put her napkin on her plate.

Don drained his glass of ice tea, thinking: _I hope she doesn't say anything about police business._

Had Don Cragen known about a dark-haired man who was currently driving past his home in a nondescript economy class car, he would have poured a second glass. This man was an elusive serial criminal who had evaded the police before. He had always chosen his victims with care. And now there was someone in Brooklyn that he wanted to see…


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to _Little Women_, Gremlin is a registered trademark.

**Upstate New York, three weeks later**

"Marmee! Grandma!" Olivia wrapped her tanned arms around the two women. "Where's Daddy? He's supposed to be here."

Marge sighed. "He sends his love, and we will have dinner with him later. But he's very busy with a few things---"

"That RDK maniac left a body in the Jamaica section of Queens last week!" Mrs. Hamilton broke in. "So you be careful, young lady."

"Please, Mother, don't scare her." Marge tried not to sound annoyed. "He hasn't killed any children, and besides, we've had safety discussions with Olivia." She turned back to her daughter and said: "But he had a meeting with other Queens precinct commanders this morning, so he couldn't make it."

"I guess I can't blame them for being concerned," Olivia said soberly. Then she brightened. "Where are we going to be eating?"

**Meanwhile, in Queens**

"Don't be a fool, man!" Don said urgently as he stood behind his desk.

"I'm no fool, sir!" Jim Stabler responded hotly, his hands curling into fists.

"You watch your tone, officer," Don warned sternly. "I don't have to have this conversation with you."

"Look, Lieutenant," Stabler said more calmly, "I'm not going to rat on my brother officers. We're supposed to look out for each other."

"And who were those men taking bribes looking out for?!"

"Well, didn't Eames pay for your daughter's bike?" Stabler barely hid is smirk.

"If I had known where that money came from, I would have asked my mother-in-law for it!" Don declared forcefully.

"You can still have a long future with the department, Jim," he continued more quietly. "And we really need a dedicated cop like you with RDK heading into the borough."

"My record speaks for itself," Jim said confidently. "My pension is safe."

"But the brass is really out for blood," Don said. "You're either with them or with the bad apples, as far as they're concerned."

Jim slowly shook his head.

"What about your family? Do you remember what Elliot said at last August's picnic?" Don's face softened.

"When he hit that double that won the game? Yeah, he said that next year it would be a hom---"He stopped suddenly.

"This is just _one_ way that your silence would hurt your family," Don warned.

After a few moments of indecision, Jim's face hardened. "I've made my decision, and my family _will_ go along with it," he stated firmly.

Don dismissed him with an abrupt finger-snapping point to the door. "You had your chance, Jim. I'm truly sorry for you and your family."

**Two weeks later**

For the first time since her adoption, Olivia did something sneaky. After receiving permission to go swimming at the public pool, she traveled by bus to the Queens neighborhood where Elliot lived. Along the way, she used a pay to call Marge, with her fingers crossed, and was subsequently allowed to go to the library near their home.

Arriving at her destination, she played a hunch and went to the local playground. There she found Elliot glumly sitting in a sand box with his sister, who was filling her pail. Sighing sympathetically, she quickly approached him.

"Elliot?"

"Wha-Olivia?" Astonished, he stood. "How the heck did you get here?!"

"I used my bus pass." Looking away, she continued: "Would you believe I got it from Eames as a birthday present?"

"Don't even mention his name!" Elliot almost shouted, glaring. "They let him have his pension, and he took the freakin' bribes! Meanwhile, my dad loses his job _and_ his pension! What kind of sense does that make?!"

Not wanting to repeat her father's difficult explanations to the upset boy, Olivia reached into her gym duffle and removed the wallet she had made at camp. "I-I want you to have this…"

"Aww, Olivia, you don't have to do that," he said, grinning. "It's not like we're gonna starve or anything. Dad's made a lot of friends over the years, and he's seeing one of them about a warehouse job. But thanks for the cash offer."

There was no money in the wallet, the intended gift, but she only said: "I'd better be starting back before Marmee gets suspicious. And I haven't had lunch. Take care, Elliot."

"I will." He stubbed his toe in the sand.

"Keep practicing your hitting."

"Sure." He swallowed hard.

"And your fielding. You were the best third baseman at the picnic."

"Olivia…"

Suddenly, she kissed him and ran towards the street, where a man stepped out of a green Gremlin.


	14. Chapter 14

**Queens playground**

Elliot slowly sat back down, turning to face his sister. His "icky" feelings about girls had begun fading last winter, and lately Olivia had begun to occupy his thoughts in a somewhat scary and yet positive way. But he had ruled out any further contact with her after his dad's forced resignation.

_And now she kisses me. What great timing! I get my first kiss from my first girlfriend, but I won't be seeing her again---just like I won't be seeing a lot of my old friends! If I didn't have bad luck, I wouldn't have any at all!_

Sighing, Elliot looked out at the street that Olivia had run towards. All he saw now was the green Gremlin swiftly pulling away from the curb. For some reason he suddenly felt uneasy. But then he shrugged and stepped out of the sandbox.

"Come on, Rosie," he said, holding out his hand, "let's go home for some lemonade!"

After taking his change from the drive-through attendant, the serial criminal went into the next phase of his plan. Pulling up a few yards, he stopped and quickly withdrew a tiny clear packet of off-white powder from the glove compartment. Next, he pulled the lid off of the chocolate milkshake and scattered the nefarious substance inside, stirring the beverage with the straw.

Meanwhile, an unsuspecting Olivia, having used the bathroom inside the fast food restaurant, waited for her "biological father" to pick her up in the front of the establishment. She felt a little guilty about agreeing to meet with him, but she had long wondered about her other parent. And as much as she loved Don, she just couldn't pass up the opportunity that a chance encounter had given her. Glancing down at her feet, she noticed that her right sneaker was undone and bent to retie the laces.

Just then, in a car stopped at an intersection yards away, Kenny Briscoe looked towards the fast food venue and said: "Hey, that looks like Olivia in front of that restaurant."

His maternal cousins all laughed, with the driver saying: "Kenny, that's the umpteenth Olivia sighting you've made!" 

"Yeah, first you thought she was a Puerto Rican girl at the convenience store, and then you thought it was the Sicilian girl at the street festival, and next it was a Black girl---"another cousin said before laughter overcame her words.

"Well, she did have light skin and long dark hair!" Ken said defensively, watching the dark-haired girl enter a green Gremlin.

"Hey, little cuz," the driver said supportively, "everybody goes through puppy love."

After the light changed, Kenny watched the green car's movements. It moved out of the parking lot and pulled out ahead of his cousin. Staring intently, the boy could barely see a part of the girl's head. But the license plate was rather interesting: its numbers were the same as his month and day of birth.

Meanwhile, back in Bensonhurst, Marge began to feel a little concerned. It was 2PM, and Olivia had not come home for lunch. But then, Marge remembered, she had put that wallet she had made inside her gym duffle this morning. She probably went to get a snack or two from the convenience store near the library. With that comforting thought, Marge went outside to turn on the lawn sprinkler.

**2:30PM**

"What's the matter, Olivia?"

"I...I don't feel…so well…sssuddenlee…"

"What do you mean?" He found it difficult to hide his smile.

"F…feverish….c-c-can't…mooove…" Her eyelids began to flutter rapidly.

"Don't fight it, darling, and it will be better soon." _Sooner than you will know._

When her eyes closed and her body slumped in the passenger seat, he laughed triumphantly. _Now it's time to take her home._

**4:15PM**

Don was conferring with Briscoe and Torricelli regarding their new caseload when the phone rang.

"Cragen---"

"Don, I can't find Olivia." Marge spoke quickly.

"What do you mean, you can't find her?" Don sounded much calmer than he felt.

"I haven't seen her since this morning, around 10:30, when she said she was going to the swimming pool," Marge replied rapidly. "Then, about 12:30, she called to say that she wanted to go to the library, and I gave permission. When she didn't call or come home around 3, I got concerned and drove to the library. I looked around, and when I didn't see her, I checked with Nancy at the desk. They always talk when Olivia visits. But Nancy hasn't seen her---"Marge began to sob.

"Honey, please, calm down. Did you check her friends?" Don was on his feet now, while Briscoe and Torricelli exchanged uneasy looks.

"Yes, Don, all of them," Marge said through her tears. "I even checked with the Briscoes, even though she knows Kenny is visiting his cousins for a few days. Nobody has seen her!"

"OK, OK," Don said slowly and gently. "Marge, honey, I'm going to call Marie. You wait by the phone for Olivia's call. I'm going to come home now. Stay strong until I get there."

"All right, Donnie. I love you, and our daughter loves you."

"I love you too." He hung up and started breathing through his mouth.

"Look, Don, I'll call my wife so she can lend a hand," said Briscoe, concerned.

"Yeah, and I'll drive you home," Torricelli added supportively.

"Th-thanks, Brian. And thanks Lennie." Cragen swallowed hard and picked up the framed photographed of his smiling daughter.


	15. Chapter 15

**Meanwhile**

_The fates are with me today. I went to Queens to familiarize myself with the borough's main thoroughfares, and I find __her__ on a playground_ _without adult supervision!_ _Then she found three simple words too alluring to pass up, making it easy to convince her "take a ride with me." And even before the drug kicked in, she was so distracted by my stories about "dating Serena" and my "wonderful childhood in the country" that she didn't realize that the whole time I was driving northwest. Now it's almost over---__we're almost __out of the city!_

**Bensonhurst, 4:45PM**

While Lennie's wife Ellie sat in the kitchen with Marge, whose eyes were fixed anxiously on the telephone extension, Marie Greevey uncovered evidence of Olivia's travels. Leaving the bathroom, she impulsively entered the girl's bedroom and located her diary in her nightstand drawer. Opening to the previous day's entry, she found a clue rather quickly.

"Ladies," she said excitedly as she hurried into the kitchen a minute later, "according to Olivia's journal---I thought it might have something helpful---she planned to go to Queens to see Elliot Stabler today."

"Now that makes sense!" exclaimed Ellie. "I've seen her give those 'puppy love' looks in his direction."

"But why hasn't she called?" Marge wondered.

"There's one way to find out." Ellie went to the telephone. "I'll call Lennie. That way if-if there's something the police can do, he can get the ball rolling as soon as he gets the right information."

**Queens, minutes later**

"Anybody seen Olivia Cragen today?" Jim Stabler asked, stepping into the living room.

"Oh, uh, at the playground with Rosie this afternoon," Elliot replied nervously, thinking about the kiss.

"Libbia go 'way wif man in gween car," piped up little Rosie.

"What?!" Jim raised his eyebrows.

"Well, there _was_ a green hatchback parked across the street," Elliot admitted, "but I didn't see Olivia get into it."

"I did see her! She _did_ go wif him!" Rosie said with preschool indignation.

"Elliot, just what did you see?" Jim asked, eyes narrowing as he moved closer to his eldest son.

"Well, after she said goodbye---"

"Kissy Face!" Rosie interrupted, pointing.

"And then she ran towards the street where the car was parked." Elliot felt himself flush with embarrassment---and not only due to the kiss. "I looked away for a bit, and then I looked again, and the car was leaving---kinda fast, too.

"And you didn't think twice about it." Jim's teeth were clenched.

"Dad, I---"

**SLAP!**

"You're a stinkin' failure on hormones, Elliot!" He turned and walked quickly back to the kitchen phone.

**The Queens precinct, a few minutes later**

"All right, thanks, Jim." Lennie hung up the phone and looked up at the blond female detective standing in front of his desk.

"Was that a break?" she asked.

"Yes and no, Betty," he answered, sighing. "She definitely went to see Elliot in Glen Oakes today, at the playground, but only little Rosie Stabler saw her enter a green hatchback." He opened his drawer to get his pack of cigarettes.

"But didn't Elliot see anything?" Betty frowned.

Lennie shook his head. "Just her running to the street where the car was parked. It was a green hatchback. Doesn't remember anything else." He paused to light up.

"So, now what?" Betty said, frustrated. "Assuming that the little toddler is right, we have a huge pool of suspects. Hatchbacks are everywhere these days, with the economy."

"We can pass the information onto the patrols," Lennie suggested, "so that everyone can keep an eye out for her. If Rosie is right---and I sure hope she isn't---then there's a chance for Olivia to be spotted."

**Cragen residence, 6:30PM**

There was little to do besides wait. Marge sat in the living room beside a supportive Ellie, showing her pictures of Olivia that had been taken in the past year. Marie read through the child's diary, hoping to find an indication of something besides a fatal abduction. In the kitchen, Torricelli stirred a fresh pitcher of lemonade as an anxious Don sat with O' Farrell at the table.

"But why would she go with a stranger?! That's one of the first things we taught her not to do!" Don pondered out loud for the umpteenth time.

"You know," Torricelli said, pouring into a tall glass of ice cubes, "maybe it wasn't a stranger. Maybe it was someone she knew."

"There's a thought!" O' Farrell said, slapping the table top. "You know, we just went through a purge at the NYPD. A couple guys from your precinct lost their jobs, along with a few of mine---all people you've worked with."

"Yes, that's right," Don said thoughtfully, accepting the glass from Torricelli. After taking a long swallow, he continued: "Theoretically, I could have tried to help them, but, of course I didn't."

"And if any of them own or have access to a green hatchback---"O' Farrell interrupted himself to rise and hurry to the telephone.

**Somewhere outside of New York City**

_We're home, my Olivia. And the neighbors aren't, so I can carry you inside without anyone having the slightest idea what's going on. Yes, this was surely meant to be!_

_There! Now that we are inside, I can take you to your temporary room where you can recover from the downer I had to give you. I wish there was another way, but you wouldn't have willingly come here with me, especially considering who I am. _

_Here we go, nice and easy. Hmm, your forehead is a bit warm. A cool cloth should take care of that. But first, let me remove your shoes and socks. That way I can cut and shred them for disposal while you rest, which you will need. There are so many things to do, and since I've acquired you earlier than I anticipated, I must now move very quickly._


	16. Chapter 16

**7:30PM, a small bedroom**

Olivia tried to orientate herself, but it was not easy. Her vision was a little foggy, and her stomach hurt a little. Worse, when she moved, her limbs felt somewhat heavy. It took an effort to sit up in bed. And where was this bed? And why did a damp wash cloth fall from her head onto her lap?

"Olivia?" A smiling dark-haired man was opening the door. "How are you feeling?"

She looked at him apprehensively as he reached her bedside. "A little weak and sick."

"You're just suffering from a few adverse symptoms," he replied gently, sitting next to her. "You'll be fine in a little bit." He ran a hand gently across her cheek.

Olivia felt unnerved by his touch. It was the same caress that Marmee and Daddy---the only father she had known until now---still gave her, but somehow it felt wrong with this man, her biological father.

"Are---are you really my father?"

Suddenly his manner altered. His eyes lost their sparkle and narrowed into clouded slits. His lips went into a straight line as his jaw hardened.

"What did I say when I found you?" he said deliberately.

Olivia thought fast, adrenaline fueling her memory. "You said---that you are my father, and you've 'always loved' me. And you showed me the scrapbook with articles and pictures of me."

"Good girl," he said, nodding as his face softened. "Now, it's already fast dinnertime, so I'm going to run you a bath. While you're in the tub, I'll fix you some chicken broth and crackers---your mother's favorite get-well tonic---and then you can get in some food before bedtime." He rose to leave.

"What?!" Her eyes popped as she watched him stroll to the door.

"Olivia, you'll only be here overnight. You'll be leaving here early tomorrow morning," he called as he exited the room.

As soon as the door closed, she began to take in her surroundings. The small room itself was bare save the bed, a bedside lamp and the tiny three-legged table it rested upon. There was a window right over her bed, but its tint indicated that it was made with reflective glass. Furthermore, it was nailed closed.

_Why isn't it warmer in here? Oh, it's central air. I can here it now. But I have bigger problems. Marmee and Daddy are worried sick about me---I just know it! And how am I going to tell them tomorrow that I went with my---my other father, especially without their permission? This is going to be __so__ awkward. And they've always told me to never get into a car with a stranger. I mean, Father __is__ a stranger, sort of, because I've never met him. But he's not like a__ real__ stranger because he knew who __I__ was. And he doesn't want to hurt me---he just wants to spend time with me. Although, he did dru---he made me go to sleep. Why did he do that?! Maybe he missed me so much that he didn't want to take the chance that I'd change my mind about spending some time with him. And of course he couldn't just ask my parents for permission---no way! Still, how do I explain all this to them tomorrow?! Maybe I could call them to let them know I'm all right---not that I'm looking forward to __that__! Oh, man, why does everything have to be so--- _

Just then, her erstwhile father entered again, holding a paper bag.

"Your bath's almost ready, daughter. Just, when you get undressed, put your clothes in this bag and set it outside in the hall. Everything else you need is in the bathroom."

**Cragen residence, 8:15PM**

"All right, listen everyone," Don said, walking into the living room followed by O' Farrell and Torricelli. "We just got our first real lead."

"What is it, dear?" Marge rushed from the couch to embrace her husband for comfort.

Don gently kissed his wife and said: "Do you remember Doug Franklin?"

"Yes, Max said he was skimming dope profits and possibly using the stuff," Marie said.

"And he owns a green Ford Pinto," Don added, nodding.

"But why would he take our baby?" Marge asked urgently.

"Well, Max and I worked on more than a few cases with him and his partner," Don replied, "and he called me at the station last month to reminisce for a few minutes. The next day top brass informs me about their investigation. He might have heard rumors and tried to subtly enlist my help by reminding me of our past. But of course, I let chips fall where they did…"

"So you think he kidnapped Olivia for revenge!" Marge began to sob. "Oh Don, what's he going to do with her?!"

"Marge, _easy_, honey, there's already an APB out for him and Olivia," Don soothed tenderly. "The one-five has taken over the case."

"I sent Werner and Phillips to his home after Lennie called back with the car information," O' Farrell explained to everyone. "His wife hasn't seen him since early this morning, and this afternoon she went to the bank to find their accounts cleaned out. When he didn't come home for dinner this evening, she decided to play detective herself and found that several suitcases were gone from the basement, as were some of his clothes that she had started folding from the dryer last night. My people arrived just as she found several receipts from a children's clothing store. The Franklins have no kids."

"So you think he's taken Olivia somewhere, to hold her prisoner to torment Don as revenge?" Marge inquired almost hopefully.

"That would be a logical conclusion," O' Farrell replied truthfully, though he also hoped to calm her.

"Then she's all right?"

"I can't see him harming her if he's bought her clothes," Torricelli said with a reassuring smile.

Marge turned to kiss Don and hug him tightly. "Everything will be all right, then. We just have to wait," she said, sighing.

Everyone in the room nodded and echoed her sentiments, with Marie excusing herself to call her and Max's parish priest for special prayers.

**The Stabler residence, meanwhile**

Elliot Stabler lay on his bed curled in a fetal position, his mood despondent and self-loathing. Though he forced his eyes to stay tightly closed, he couldn't stem his steady tears. His father's leather belt had stung, but the latter's words had wounded him much worse:

_Jim: I was just on the phone with Briscoe, everyone, and he says that Olivia's kidnapper was probably a recently released cop who owns a green Pinto. Of course, they'd be more certain if it weren't for a certain __failure__ of observation._

_Elliot: But Dad, Rosie's my re---_

_Jim: Shut up, Elliot! Just shut up! I'm sick of your sorry excuses! You're almost a teenager, and a 2 ½ -year-old does a better job than you! Now __get up!__ March to your room, and __take off your pants__! And don't let me catch you crying because __that's what __babies do!!__"_

Sobbing at the memory, Elliot moved to kneel at the side of the bed. After crossing himself, he recited the Hail Mary and beseeched God's forgiveness. Then he pleaded Him to "bring Olivia home safe. Not for me, Lord---for her and her parents!"

**Elsewhere**

_Oh, Olivia, you look so pretty in the pink nightgown and matching bedroom shoes! Of course, I've known that for some time: Mrs. Cragen said that every time I'd observed you shop. You'd always try on something pink, a scarf, a shirt, anything, and then she'd say how "how pretty" you looked._

_But now that the tranquilizers have taken effect and I've finished shredding your clothes and everything in that duffle---except for that wallet, which I'll keep---I can get you ready for tomorrow._

Disclaimer: Pinto is a registered trademark belonging to the Ford Motor Company.


	17. Chapter 17

**Queens precinct, 8:30PM**

Lennie was about to call his mother to check up on his daughters when his telephone rang. Hoping for good news about Olivia, he eagerly picked up. He was surprised to hear his nephew Kenny's excited voice.

"Uncle Lennie! Hi!"

"Hello back at 'cha, kid," Briscoe replied pleasantly, despite his anxious mood. "Still having fun with your cousins?"

"Well I was until I went next door with them and heard the neighbors' scanner radio," Ken continued almost breathlessly. "Olivia's been kidnapped?!"

Lennie sighed, aware of the boy's longstanding crush. "I'm afraid it looks that way, Kenny."

"Aww boy. Listen, are-are you sure it's a green Pinto and not a green Gremlin?"

"Why do you ask?" Lennie raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued.

"Well, earlier today in Queens, this afternoon, we were stopped at a light, and I saw a girl that looked just like---well, almost just like her in front of a fast food place, and she got in a green Gremlin with New York plates with the same numbers as my birthday, in that order."

Lennie flipped open his notepad. "OK, Kenny, listen: about what time did you see this?"

**Somewhere outside the city, meanwhile**

_There, finished! Now, it's clean-up time---but first I must put a lock of her hair with the rest of my keepsake-treasures---with more to come. _

**Queens, 9:30**

Betty looked up from her desk as Lennie returned to the bullpen with a loose tie and a tight grin. Although she had joined the precinct just two weeks ago, she had already learned a great deal about her coworkers' quirks. Thus she knew that Lennie had worked very hard indeed---with successful results.

"What's the clue?" she asked with anticipation.

"Well, it's at least as good as the one they're working with regarding Mr. Franklin," he replied, coming around to her side of the desk. Sitting, he continued soberly: "The owner of the Gremlin is one Joseph Hollister of Florida, Orange County. No known priors, but he lost his family last year to a hit-and-run accident, right here in the city."

"Wow, what happened?" Betty inquired, frowning.

"Well, the wife and son were standing on a corner near Rockefeller Center while Hollister went across the street to get a snow cone for his son---didn't want the boy to get hit a car. But while he's buying, some dope fiend high on LSD jumps the curb and wipes out both the kid and his mom!" Frowning, Lennie shook his head, sighing.

"Sick---and just think, there are some 'intellectual' types that think we should legalize the stuff," Betty said disdainfully. "But, Lennie, how does he figure into Olivia's disappearance?"

"Well, like I said after I hung up, what Kenny saw occurred this afternoon in Queens, roughly around the same time period she was last seen by Elliot," he replied. "And if this guy lost his family, he might be, well, a little crazy and trying to fill his gap."

"But Lennie, she's a _girl_, and he lost a _boy_," she said, standing to put a hand on his shoulder. "Look, I know you want to help the lieutenant, and I'm just as worried as you, but aren't you grasping at straws?"

"First, I'm aware of the differences, which is why I'm going to look into this guy's background a bit more," Lennie replied somewhat testily. "Second, I don't think I'm 'grasping at' anything. This seems just too coincidental---Olivia in Queens this afternoon, Kenny's sighting---also _this afternoon_, Hollister loosing his family in the city, _and_ Hollister owning a green hatchback---to ignore. There could be something we've haven't learned yet that puts all those facts together. And finally, no offense, but I don't think you're as worried as I am 'cause you're not a parent. I know what it's like to lose track of a child---I panic when Cathy wanders behind my back at department stores. Of course, I always find her in the toy department, but the point is, _I_ know a fraction of what Don is going through---and I'm going to do everything in my power to get him out of that Hell!"

"Excuse me, but may I make a suggestion?"

"What, Flynn?" Lennie asked as he and Betty turned to face the red-haired detective, who was standing nearby holding a coffee mug.

"Why don't you go home and get some shut-eye, Lennie," he said gently. "You've been going at this and all of your old cases, plus some of these _new_ cases, all evening. I'll research this guy, and if I find something, I'll give you a call at home."

"Thanks, but I'll probably be at my brother's," Lennie replied, crossing to give Flynn the papers in his hand. "I'll call you when I get there."

"Right. Now have a good night." Flynn managed a small smile of encouragement.

"You too, Flynn." Lennie collected his suit coat from the back of his chair and departed quickly. "'Night, Betty."

"Good night," Betty called, feeling sheepish.

**The Cragen residence, 10PM**

"I was just on the phone with the one-five," O' Farrell said, coming back into the living room. "They said that apparently Dougie had some chick on the side---someone with ties to Cape May, New Jersey---her Staten Island apartment is empty. According to the landlord, she left a note---and the apartment's keys---in the office of the complex's manager."

"What did the note say?" Marge demanded anxiously from the couch, where she sat next to Don.

"She wrote that she was leaving and to dispose of her things at his discretion." O' Farrell paused before continuing: "None of the neighbors have seen her since this morning when she left for work at an insurance company, where she worked shift until 3:30. Then she left after receiving a phone call that she _claimed_ was about a sick relative."

"So they're both in the wind," Cragen said, squeezing his wife's hand supportively.

"Looks that way." O' Farrell nodded. "The authorities in Cape May have been alerted; they'll be watching her cousins' house. The New Jersey State Police have also been advised of their cars' makes and models, as well as Olivia's possible presence."

"'Possible presence?' What do you mean? You said---"

"Marge, the commander of the one-five is called 'Smokin' Gun' Hansen for a reason," O' Farrell explained quickly but calmly, sensitive to Marge's fragile control. "He prefers to call it a 'possible kidnapping' because the evidence is so circumstantial. But he also wants them apprehended because of that very possibility. That's why he's sent out a press release to the media."

"Oh, I see," Marge said, sighing and leaning against her husband.

Don kissed his wife's hair and asked with concern: "Why don't you go upstairs and rest, honey? This has been pretty rough one you. We'll let you know when something happens."

Marge paused, and then replied: "All right, Donnie. I…I'll need to be rested for when Olivia is found. She-she's going to need me."

**3:45AM**

Olivia woke up suddenly, experiencing a variety of sensations. Her eyelids felt heavy, and it took an effort to sit up. But yet she was also restless, as if she were somehow compelled to move about. Rising slowly from bed, she then began scuffling quickly and anxiously from one part of the room to another, her arms tightly clasped across her chest. She startled when Father abruptly entered with clothes for her.

_Well, Olivia, by your obvious tension, you're reacting to the injection as expected. _

"It's almost time to go, Olivia, so get dressed. You have five minutes; I want us on the road as soon as possible."

_And there won't be any coming back---not for you._


	18. Chapter 18

**4:00AM**

Olivia sat in the passenger side of the Gremlin, trying to cope with her conflicting physical and emotional status. On the one hand, she felt somewhat drowsy. Her eyelids and upper body still felt heavy. But her legs felt restless; she kept changing their position every so often. And she was very nervous and uneasy.

One reason was obvious: her alleged biological father. First, he took her to his home without her parents' permission. What kind of man does that?

_A kidnapper._

Olivia suddenly became a little less sleepy. She had heard Daddy discuss parental kidnappings at various occasions with other "police families." He would always state that "if it's not sanctioned by the law, than it's kidnapping, no matter who does it. No custody, no right." And Olivia, so proud of her father's conviction, would always silently agree with him---like she agreed with him now.

Second, he was drugging her. In fact, she had been under the influence of the drugs he'd given her since yesterday afternoon. She hated how the substances made her feel. And what kind of father drugs his child? Not even Mother had given her alcohol, even during the times when Olivia had complained of being unable to sleep.

Finally, what did this man want with her? He had initially told her that he only wanted to spend some time with her that afternoon---"our own private reunion," he had called it. But he had taken her to his house that was obviously far from New York City, or any city for that matter. Also, during her last "nap" he had cut her long hair and painted her fingernails pink. Somehow, that made her feel…invaded, as if he had forced something on her.

_I want to go home! I want my Marmee and my Daddy---my__ real__ Daddy! I wish he was here right now to---_

Just then, Father slid behind the wheel and started the car.

"We're on our way, Olivia!" He reached across her lap to grab her seatbelt, which he then fastened. "Just relax and enjoy the ride." He turned on the radio, which played classical music.

**Bensonhurst, 6PM**

Don, standing in front of his bedroom window, felt that things just weren't right. Normally, he and Marge would be awake and quietly talk until they heard Olivia leave her room to make her way down stairs. Then, they would strain to hear the faint sounds of the TV downstairs. Next, they would curl up and sleep for another half hour or quietly make love. Then they would shower separately and go downstairs together.

_But instead I'm standing here in the clothes I fell asleep in while my wife moves restlessly in her sleep. And Olivia isn't going to be watching any TV---_

Pressing his fingers to his eyes, Don forced control over his emotions. He breathed deeply, forcing all thoughts from his mind. In a few minutes the rushing inner turmoil abated enough for him return to the task that had brought him upstairs minutes ago. He selected a change of clothes and, after a tender glance at the sleeping Marge, tiptoed to the bathroom.

Meanwhile, Lennie and his wife were rising out of the bed in his brother's guest room. Ahead of them was a busy few hours: first, they would stop briefly at the Cragen's to reiterate their support, then head home to prepare for synagogue and finally pick up the girls at his mother's home on the way to the service. Afterward, the Briscoes would stop at the stationhouse to see where Kenny's tip ultimately led.

"I have a good feeling about it," Lennie said as they walked to their car. "Still, it won't hurt to mention it to the rabbi."

"I already called him yesterday evening," revealed Ellie.

"Mrs. Briscoe, I really love you sometimes," Lennie half-joked before pulling her into a kiss.

**8PM**

"Olivia, are you hungry?" asked Father as they headed north on a 6-lane highway.

"A little," she admitted.

"Don't worry, I have some snacks in the back," he replied cheerfully. "Peanut butter crackers---they're in this bag." He reached back past the front seats and drew forth a duffle bag that he placed gently on her lap. "Take the crackers."

Unzipping and opening the satchel, Olivia looked inside and said: "I see peaches and nectarines, too, plus some candy bars."

"What did Father say?" There was a hint of warning in his voice.

As Olivia withdrew the appropriate plastic sandwich bag, she thought: _As soon as we stop somewhere for gas or to use the restroom, I'm going to yell for help, make a scene, just like Daddy told me!_

**Queens precinct, 9:45AM**

"Hey, Lennie, I thought you were Catholic," Flynn greeted as the Briscoes entered the bullpen in their equivalents to 'Sunday Bests.'

"I am six days a week, plus certain holidays," Lennie replied affably. "By the way, I thought you were off today."

"I had to follow up some information I dug up late last night," he replied.

"Tell me," Lennie said eagerly.

"Well, I found out that Mr. Hollister was, at the time of his family's demise, employed by a food distribution company based in Orange County, though they have clients here in NYC. I had to wait until this morning to call owner---which is why I spent the night at the crib---and I learned that he's been suffering from depression for_ years_."

"So he's mentally ill." Lennie nodded.

"And he stopped seeing the shrink a couple months ago, too," Flynn continued. "But for some reason, he 'also became more upbeat, like he caught a second wind,' as his boss put it. He talked optimistically about starting over in a new location, so when he sought a position for a Canadian-based company, the boss gave his blessing. He's supposed to start next month in Ontario."

Lennie stood silently, turning the information over in his mind. Then an idea struck him. First, he gave his wife money and instructions to buy the girls candy bars from the machine "for_ later on_." Turning back to Flynn, he said urgently: "You said the company has clients here in the Big Apple. Was one of them Columbia University?"

"I can check; the guy is going to be home all day---why?"

"I remember Olivia saying, on several occasions, that her mother Serena went to Columbia University," Lennie said, "and if the company was servicing it, oh, say, thirteen years ago or so, we just might have enough information to give Smokin' Gun!"

**The Cragen Residence, 10:15AM**

Don answered the phone eagerly: "This is Don."

While he talked in the kitchen, Marge continued to keep busy. She sat beside Karen Torricelli, who had arrived with donuts two hours earlier. Together they poured over a department store catalog and discussed future purchases.

Back in the kitchen, O' Farrell looked up at Don's troubled face and asked: "What happened?"

After a cautious glance towards the living room, Don walked over to his friend and said: "Well, the good news is they have another lead, and it involves a witness and a stronger motive. Plus, we're getting cooperation from the suspect's local p.d."

"So what's the bad news?"

"If our fellow officers are right, then our precious daughter is with her biological father---a rapist!"


	19. Chapter 19

**The Cragen's backyard, Bensonhurst, New York**

O' Farrell dropped his jaw. "How the---what's the evidence?!"

"Lennie Briscoe's nephew Kenny saw a girl resembling Olivia get into a green Gremlin in Queens yesterday afternoon," Don explained. "He noticed that the numbers on the license plate---for New York---were the same as the numbers of his birthday. A Florida, Orange County salesman named Joseph Hollister is the owner."

"But why would Mr. Hollister kidnap Olivia?" O' Farrell wanted to know.

"Last year he lost his wife and son in an accident last year," Don explained, "which was a bitter blow for a man who suffered from chronic depression. In fact, he started taking medication for it at one point. But he was always effective on the job, which involved signing up clients for a food distribution company. One of his accounts was Columbia University, where Olivia's mother worked in the dining hall."

O' Farrell paused in thought before saying: "Donnie, just because her mother was raped while studying at the same university he had an account doesn't make the guy Olivia's long lost rapist father."

"There's more," Don went on. "Detectives at my precinct did some checking and learned about one other cold rape case involving a student at Hudson University---_another_ account of his. And this is just what's been found so far."

O' Farrell nodded. "All right, in my book that's enough to investigate those cases further for any signatures, though Smokin Gun obviously isn't waiting for any---not that I blame him. There are too many 'coincidental' facts. And our window of opportunity---"O' Farrell stopped himself abruptly, giving Don an apologetic look.

Don nodded his acceptance. "There's something more: last night, after her husband picked her up, Marie told him about something she'd read in Olivia's diary: she's curious about her biological father."

"Oh, Don, I'm so sorry."

"Dr. Francis said to expect it," Don explained resignedly, "so I'm not surprised that she had those thoughts." _Though it still kinda gets me. _"We suspected that Olivia went with someone she knew. If Hollister_ is_ the other father, then he has the right lines to entice her into his Gremlin."

"He takes her for something to eat and drives---where? Back to his place, maybe? Or even to Ontario?"

"Well, he's not at his place now," Don replied. "The police raided his Florida residence, and he wasn't home. In fact, the house is in the process of being prepared for sale---most of the furniture and other belongings have been packed and/or stored. But they found signs of him being there recently."

"If the house hasn't been sold yet, he's probably going to come back," declared O' Farrell confidently.

"Well, nobody's going to wait for that," Don replied. "The New York State Police have been alerted to the car's description, plate and model and so have authorities at the border. Oh, I just hope and pray that they find my baby soon…"

**11:20AM, Route 81, near Syracuse, New York**

Olivia felt very sick. She was heaving the partially digested crackers and peanut butter onto the shoulder's pavement. Her stomach prickled with sharp pains. The restlessness of her legs was replaced by pins and needles that intensified every time she moved her lower limbs.

_If it weren't for these pins and needles, I'd run screaming away from him and try to get the attention of a passing car---after this stupid puking. But maybe we'll stop for gas or food---then I'll scream._

"Olivia, are you better?" Father asked from behind her.

"I-I still need a minute," Olivia managed to say. She really did need a little time. That bout of vomiting had been tiring.

"Come on, honey," Father said, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Let's go get you some water from the…" He was cut off by the sirens of the New York State Police car that pulled up a few yards behind the Gremlin.

_All right! As soon as they get out of the car, I'll scream!_

But then a fit of nausea beckoned. She bent forward as not to soil her white button-up shirt and/or dark blue denim skirt. But Father grabbed her and, turning her around, gently pushed her towards the car.

"Come on, get back in the car," he whispered urgently in her ear, a hand tightly gripping her arm.

"No, I can't walk." She hesitated.

Suddenly, Father clasped her waist with both arms. Then he lifted her a few inches off the ground. His intentions were obvious.

"No!" Olivia shouted, elbowing the man until she heaved, staining her shirt.

"New York State Police! What's going on here?!" she overheard from behind.

"My daughter's sick!" Father answered, trying to open the passenger car door. "It's all right."

_Oh no it isn't!!_

Olivia opened her mouth and screamed as loud as she could. She continued her cries until even as three other voices sounded, overlapping at times. Her shrieks persisted while Father maneuvered her into an embrace, pressed his lips to her cropped hair, and surrendered her to one of the state troopers.

**11:30AM**

Sitting in the Cragen's kitchen, O' Farrell and Max watched as Don answered the phone. They exchanged anxious looks as their friend's eyes widened and then closed. Next, they heard him say as he leaned against the wall, his head tilted upward: "Thank you, God."

"Amen," sighed O' Farrell as Max crossed himself.

Fifteen minutes later, a blue sedan was leaving Bensonhurst for Syracuse. A smiling Max was driving, wiping his eyes occasionally. In the back seat Marge rested her head on Don's shoulder and clenched Olivia's favorite stuffed bear. A tote bag with clothing and books for the girl rested on the floor. Don looked out of the window, feeling relief for his daughter and also for himself: he had faced his worse crisis without taking a drink.

Meanwhile, Kenny Briscoe, packing to return home, was called to his cousins' telephone.

"Hello?"

"It's Uncle Lennie, kid! Olivia's been found alive in Syracuse!"

"They found her?! Hot dog!!" Kenny was ecstatic. "Was it the guy in the Gremlin?"

"Yep, it was him," Lennie replied. "You did great, kid. I'm proud of you, Kenny."

"Thanks, Uncle Lennie." Kenny turned so that his cousins couldn't see his tears.

In another Queens residence, Jim Stabler interrupted his children's television show with the good news.

"Olivia's been found alive near Syracuse," he said, smiling.

"Hooray!" shouted his progeny.

Jim then pointed a stern finger at Elliot. "You're mighty darn lucky she is alive."

Hanging his head, Elliot rose and went to his bedroom to thank God for answering his prayers and to ask for His help regarding his own shortcomings.

**1:30PM, a hospital in Syracuse, New York**

Olivia was lying in her private room, tired but not sleepy. Fluids were ferried into her intravenously while a catheter helped drain them. She didn't mind: she didn't feel like eating or moving now. Since yesterday, both activities had caused trouble for her.

"Olivia!"

"Marmee! Daddy!" She sat up and opened her arms to embrace her parents. Her tears mingled with theirs as kisses were exchanged repeatedly. Finally, they gently lay her back down. Then Marge straightened the covers and held her hand while Don tucked the bear beside her.

"How do you feel, baby?" Marge asked tenderly.

"Tired, but my stomach feels a little better, and my legs don't tingle anymore," she replied.

"The doctors say you'll be here for a couple of days," Don explained, moving to stand beside his wife, "but Marmee will be here with you the whole time."

"Great," Olivia replied, smiling as she put an arm around her bear.

_Everything is going to be all right again._


	20. Chapter 20

**A vacant hospital office in Syracuse, New York**

While the Cragens joyfully reunited with Olivia, Max Greevey met with Captain Victor "Smokin' Gun" Hansen, who had arrived at the hospital minutes earlier with Detective Anita Van Buren, and New York State Police Sergeant Lawrence Garrett and his partner Officer Richard Fry. After a round of introductions and handshakes, the group began to discuss the matters at hand. Of course, a few words of gratitude were in order.

"Both the Cragens and the NYPD owe you men a great debt," Hansen stated with an appreciative smile.

"We wouldn't have spotted the vehicle without the information you gave us," replied Garrett modestly. "We always do our jobs, but it really means a lot help our brothers in local law enforcement, especially when one of our own is involved."

"Speaking of whom," Hansen said. "The doctor spoke to us just before you arrived. She's a little fatigued from the…homemade pharmaceuticals he gave her, but she's alert. That's why Anita is going to take her statement soon."

"You said 'pharmaceuticals," Max said. "Are you saying she was doped out?"

"She says that she was for part of the time," replied Trooper Garrett as Trooper Fry nodded.

_Uh-oh, that doesn't sound good_.

Closing his eyes, Max asked carefully: "Was she raped?"

"No," both troopers replied simultaneously.

_Praise God._

"Where is he?!" Hansen demanded darkly.

"He's back at the barracks," said Trooper Garrett. "He was docile and weepy after handing over the girl. Getting him in cuffs was no problem."

"Did he say why he did it?" Max inquired.

"Well, he says she's his 'long-lost little girl' and that they were 'going to start a brand new life together in Ontario,'" Garrett said.

"And Olivia said that the man told her that he was her biological father," Fry put in.

"Well, that jives with Briscoe's theory," Hansen said, nodding.

"Who?"

"One of Lieutenant Cragen's men, Trooper Fry," smiled Max. "His nephew called in the tip that put us on the right track"

"And I'm gonna see that boy sometime in the future," said an impressed Hansen. "But right now I'd like to see about getting Olivia's statement while everything's fresh in her mind."

"You sure she's not too groggy for that?" Max asked, concerned.

Hansen nodded. "According to the doctor, the medical staff has been asking her questions and performing various tests. She's lucid, and the drugs don't seem to have affected her memory."

**Olivia's room, 15 minutes later**

While her parents and the male cops waited down the hallway, Olivia gave her statement to the affable and professional African-American woman who sat at her bedside with a large note pad. Holding her bear under the blanket, the preteen lay on her side facing the detective. Although her parents had seemed reluctant to leave her so soon after their reunion, she was glad they weren't there: now it would be easier to reveal why she had gone with a stranger.

"Now, Olivia," Anita said patiently, "when did you first see Mr. Hollister?"

"Yesterday afternoon, by a playground in Queens. I went there to see…Elliot Stabler." She watched for the cop's reaction to her visiting the son of a disgraced ex-police officer, but fortunately the woman's manner was unchanged as she wrote.

"Do you remember the time?"

"No, but I know it was after one o' clock."

"How did you come to speak to him?"

Olivia sighed before answering. "I was running…to get to the bus stop so I could go home before Marmee---my mother worried about me. I was just going to pass him, but he said "Olivia!" with a big smile. I stopped because I thought he was a cop---sometimes they'll call to me or my parents in stores and…other public places. But this man, he said…" Olivia began blinking rapidly.

"Olivia?" Van Buren's voice was gentle.

"He said, 'I am your father.'" Tears streamed down her cheeks despite her steady voice.

**A waiting area down the hall**

"It's been over 20 minutes," Marge quietly fretted from the couch. "Why is it taking so long, Donnie?"

"I don't know, but I'm not going to jump to any conclusions…" Don began.

"So you're saying there's nothing to worry about?! And I shouldn't be concerned about what our child might be forced to relive?!"

While the four cops looked on with surprise and concerned, Don pleaded: "Honey, don't fall apart now. We both have to be calm in order to help our daughter."

"I…you're right, Don, I'm sorry." She went into his arms as the cops turned and moved a few feet away.

"Ever since she went missing, I've wanted to just hold her in my arms," Marge continued, fighting tears, "and keep her safe, heal any hurts, let my love comfort her."

"So have I, dear, so have I." Don kissed his wife's hair.

She lifted her head and lightly kissed his lips. "Don, again, I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "Don't be. Now, given that she spent so much time with Mr. Hollister, Olivia might have a lot of---"

"Excuse me, but here comes Van Buren," interrupted Max, looking up the hall.

Immediately the Cragens stood up as the deadpan officer approached.

**From Don Cragen's recovery journal**

_**---**__and if there is no permanent damage, she will be released Monday morning. I can hardly wait to have my family home together again. For now at least I know that they are resting in the same secure hospital room. I wish I didn't have to leave them, but I had to arrange to go on sabbatical and get some clothes for Marge and get Olivia's diary. I know she will need it. Before she went to sleep this afternoon, she kept talking about going home and never leaving Bensonhurst. Plus, she seemed like she wanted to confess something but somehow couldn't. My cop instincts tell me that she feels guilty about deceiving Marge as well as going with a stranger---__which is what he is regardless of his relationship to her__. And if what Flynn told me this afternoon is true, if he really was the perp in the rapes at those colleges that he signed up,__ then he is as bad as any stranger can get!_

_As for my precious Olivia, I will call that doctor O' Farrell referred_ _me to because this time Olivia will need a shrink that specializes in trauma. Relieved as I am that she wasn't---I can't say the word, I can't!!---I know she has emotional scars. Heck, I'm not even sure how well __I am__. Throughout this ordeal I didn't drink, I called my sponsor several times, I even fit in a meeting this evening, but I probably won't sleep any better tonight than I did last night---and I may not until Olivia is back down the hall, safe in her own bed. I guess I'll have to handle this the same way I've learned to handle everything else---one day at a time._

_P.S. Nobody still knows where Dougie is. Isn't that a blip?!_


	21. Chapter 21

_Olivia was back home again, skipping rope at the end of the Cragen driveway. The sun was shining brilliantly in the clear afternoon sky, and she couldn't be happier. But then the green Gremlin pulled in front of her, and "Father" exited the vehicle, smiling widely._

"_Hello, Olivia, I'm back!"_

"_No! Marmee! Daddy!" She turned to run towards the house in terror._

"_I'm your daddy now!" His arms clasped her in an iron grip as he picked her up and tossed her into the car._

_As the Gremlin suddenly jetted away, she sat paralyzed in the front passenger seat as the landscape rapidly transmorphed from Bensonhurst to rural New York State._

"_Now I'm gonna stop the car," he said gleefully, turning onto a dark wooded dirt road, "and I'm gonna give you some drugs to make you feel weak and sick until you sleep! And when you wake up, you'll be far away in a strange place you'll __never__ escape from! And I'll be your daddy FOREVER!!!" Suddenly he loomed above her, raising a needle and syringe as huge as Marie Greevey's marinade injector._

"_No! No! No! Nooo-"Olivia was crying._

"Olivia baby, it's all right! It's just a bad dream! And now Daddy's here, too!" Marge gathered the girl into her arms and gently rubbed her back as she sobbed. Standing behind his wife, Don took her hand and squeezed reassuringly.

"Daddy, is he…is he going…to come back?" Olivia managed to say.

"No, honey!" Don said emphatically. "He's going to be under lock and key at all times. He's not going to get to you, or anybody else, again!"

_I've __got__ to stay on top of the case! I've __got__ to do everything possible to keep that monster caged and away from Olivia! I'll speak to Hansen about things tomorrow, after we're all settled back at home. Man, I can hardly wait until we're back in Bensonhurst!  
_

**The next morning**

"We're home!" Don happily announced to his wife and daughter, both sitting contiguously behind him.

"At last!" Olivia responded smiling.

Remembering the beans and smoked sausage links still in the refrigerator from Friday, Marge said, "It's almost 11:30. How about lunch, everyone?"

"No hamburgers." Olivia replied quickly.

Don tensed at her words. _That's right! Van Buren said that Hollister bought her a hamburger meal that he apparently doctored---_

"Don? Do you agree?" Marge was speaking.

"Oh, sure, Marge," he covered, reaching for the two canvass tote bags in the front passenger seat.

"If the links and beans don't hurt your stomach, you can have two scoops of vanilla ice cream, Olivia," Marge said as she opened the rear door.

Later, while Olivia napped upstairs and Marge washed the lunch dishes, Don called Captain Hansen.

"Where is Hollister now?" the lieutenant asked after exchanging greetings.

"He's in Bellevue under a suicide watch," explained Hansen. "According to his attorney---his boss retained counsel for him---'he's profoundly depressed.' And the lawyer is talking about a not guilty by reason of insanity defense, of course."

Don closed his eyes as he sighed heavily.

"But between his mental health problems and the fact that a child was endangered, at the very least he'll be in locked away in a psych facility until Olivia turns 18, if not longer," Hansen added reassuringly.

"While that's all well and good," Don answered, somewhat relieved, "I'd still like to have his parental rights severed."

"I'm no lawyer, but I seriously doubt that an absentee father with mental problems can keep his rights to a kid he's deliberately drugged," Hansen said confidently. "Talk to a lawyer; he'll tell you the same, I'm sure."

"I will. Thanks, Captain." Cragen hung up after Hansen told him not to mention it.

"Don," Marge asked, frowning as she released the water from the sink, "if there's going to be a trial, won't…won't Olivia have to testify?"

He nodded grimly. "Unless the prosecution accepts a deal or he pleads guilty." _Something I know he's not going to do._

"Well, I know you're as angry as I am," she said, crossing over to embrace him, "but if they want to give him, say, 15 years, plus the loss of his parental rights, I'd accept that for Olivia's sake. Testifying might be too upsetting for her."

"I'll talk to the ADA in charge of the case," Don said, gently caressing her face, "and see what he has in mind. As a cop, I'd like to see him put far away, preferably in prison, for very long time. But as a father, I don't want her traumatized by facing that creep---although she wasn't too scared to fight him in the end." He managed a small proud smile, which she returned.

"Anyway, I'll see what the prosecution has to say," he continued, "and we'll mention it to the new shrink tomorrow and take it one day at a time from there. In the meantime, why don't we check on Olivia, and, if she's still sleeping soundly, have a little 'rest time' for ourselves?" He gave a sly smile.

"Fine with me, Don." Marge leaned against her husband. "It has been a long five days."

Forty-five minutes later, as her glowing parents dozed in their room, Olivia slowly walked to the end of the driveway and began to skip rope. _He's not coming to get me. He's not coming to get me. He's not coming to get me. He's not coming to get me._

Minutes later she heard a familiar and very friendly "Hey, yo, Olivia!"

"Kenny!" she exclaimed as the boy rolled toward her on skates, arms outstretched. After she had reached out and caught him, they stood smiling for a few long moments, clasping each other's biceps at near-arm's length, neither sure what to say to the other. Finally, she broke the silence.

"My dad told me what you did. Thank you." She blinked quickly a few times.

"Like, it's no pro---I just wanted to---I just wanted to make sure---you were safe…" He blushed and looked away a few times as he spoke.

"Well, I, I, I guess I can reward you…" _I really shouldn't do this,_ she thought as she closed her eyes and moved to give him a quick peck on his cheek. But then she felt the warm softness…

"Hmm?" Olivia opened her eyes briefly before closing them again_. I guess I knew he that he kinda liked me, but…but…_

Unknown to them, diagonally across the street, Elliot Stabler was watching the pair. He stood agape as their faces parted. His stomach cramped as he heard them laugh and exchange monosyllabic farewells. He let out a long, silent sigh as she watched him roll casually back up the street.

After a few angst-filled minutes, Elliot crossed towards Olivia, who had resumed her skipping.

"Hello!" He called as he reached the driveway.

She stopped abruptly, eyebrows raised. "Elliot?! How-how did you get here?!" Her cheeks reddened.

"This time, _I_ snuck over," he quipped. Then his smile froze as he thought: _Oops, she's not laughing. Maybe that wasn't the right thing to---_

"Really, Elliot, you shouldn't have done that," she said solemnly. "I mean, your parents could worry, like mine." She looked away, pressing her lips tightly.

_I've got to get this right! I can't make things worse for her, especially after Hero Boy locked lips with her_!

"Say, Olivia," he said as an idea struck him, "I like your new hairdo."

"My hair!" She dropped the jump rope and lifted her hands to the sides of her head, her eyes wide and watery.

"And your nails," Elliot added quickly. "I see you've polished them---"He ceased talking as she fled to the house, the jump rope abandoned.

_Great going, Elliot,_ he thought as the door shut loudly. _You blew it! You came all this way to try and make amends with Olivia, and you just __screwed it up big time__! Guess it's just as well that Kenny's got her. I've done nothing but cause her more grief. Well, I'd better get going before she tells her folks, and they tell mine, and Dad jumps on my case---__again. __Heck, maybe I'm just asking for it._

With those glum thoughts, Elliot turned and ran several blocks to the bus stop. He sincerely hoped he would stop crying by the time he arrived home---otherwise he would surely be in trouble!

Disclaimer: Gremlin is a product by AMC.


	22. Chapter 22

Don, after a quick shower, was quietly dressing in the master bedroom when he heard the front door open and then slam shut. _Since I locked the front door, it must be Olivia coming back from outside. Yes, those are her footsteps pounding up the stairs…and now into her room…just like she did last year when Elliot---_

Sighing at the memory, Don, after glancing at his sleeping wife, went to comfort his child. Finding her curled up on her bed, tightly hugging her favorite bear and silently weeping, he quickly moved to sit beside her. She responded by sitting up and putting her head on his shoulder.

"Oh Daddy, he cut my hair!" she sobbed. "And he polished my nails while I was sleeping! Why?! Why?!"

"He wanted to alter your appearance so that no one would recognize you," Don explained gently, rubbing her back. "I'll get Marmee's nail polish remover so that you can get that junk off."

"Th-thank you, Daddy," she managed. "But…but what about my hair? I knew it was cut when…when I woke up at his house, I felt it! Do I look bad? Do I look ugly?"

"No, darling, no!" Don kissed her shorten locks. "You'll always be beautiful to me and Marmee because we love you very much! And all of your family and friends will see the beauty of your being safe and in their lives. Just like Detective Greevey when he stopped in your hospital room to take me home Saturday."

_And just like Kenny did when he kissed me!_ Olivia lifted her head and wiped her face.

**The following evening, 8:00PM, the Cragen residence**

From Olivia Cragen's diary---

_My first appointment with my new shrink, Dr. Waters, went better than I thought. We started talking about my interests, like reading, swimming, and lately, boys---and then I told her about my stupid sneaking off to see Elliot and how it lead to my going with Mr. Hollister (HE'S NOT MY FATHER!!!!!). I didn't even plan to do that; it just came out. Maybe I just had to tell someone, and besides she's so gentle and understanding. Anyway, when I finally stopped crying she told me to stop kicking myself, that __nothing__ I did justified his actions. Wow. She also said that lots of adopted kids wondered about their biological parents, and it's normal. Boy, was that a load off my mind! After I stopped crying again (she's says that's normal __and__ healing), she allowed Marmee and Daddy to come in so that I could tell them how bad I felt about going somewhere behind their backs. (That was all __my__ idea because I wanted to stop worrying about how they felt about what I did.) When they came in, I told them---and I was so nervous, even though I really wanted to get it off my chest. But Daddy and Marmee didn't become upset with me at all. Instead, they forgave me for lying and said that we would discuss new safety solutions later. And Daddy told me that he had expected me to be curious about my other father and that Mr. Hollister had taken advantage of my feelings and my being alone. Then he took me into his arms and said: "I love you, Olivia, and I know that you love me." Oh, just writing about it makes me want to cry again…_

Meanwhile, as Olivia wrote in her room, Don and Marge conferred downstairs with Assistant District Attorney Elizabeth Donnelly. Attired professionally in a navy shirt suit and a white blouse, she sat in a living room chair and removed some papers from her attaché case. Holding hands, Don and Marge sat opposite her on the couch.

"Well, our psychologist, Dr. Emil Skoda, feels that Mr. Hollister is a very sick man," she began.

"But how does depression make a person manipulate a defenseless girl and drug her?" Marge almost demanded.

"Well, according to Dr. Skoda, Mr. Hollister had his depression under control with medication," explained Donnelly. "But losing his family made him feel so hopeless that he stopped taking the drugs, which only made him worse. Eventually, he came to the conclusion that the only thing that could break him out of his depressed state was Olivia, the child he'd been tracking for years."

"What do you mean, 'tracking for years'?" Don said, eyes widened, brow furrowed. His wife, also agape, moved closer to her husband.

"Well, according to the detectives on the case," Donnelly replied, shuffling to find a report, "he had some articles and captioned photographs from local newspapers, campus papers, alumni magazines, featuring Olivia from the time she was a toddler until---"she put her finger on a paragraph---'this year's Memorial Day Parade, where she sat on a float sponsored by the PBA.'"

"So, he followed her until he had a chance at that playground in Queens," Marge said.

Donnelly shook her head. "That was just chance. He had obtained an illicit sedative earlier from equally lawless sources and was trying to familiarize himself with the Queens area, in case he needed to elude the authorities. Also, he had planned to look her up in a library periodical index again, so he had his scrapbook with him. When he saw Olivia at the playground with no adults around…"

"He saw the opportunity of a lifetime," Don broke in bitterly. Then he said: "Sorry, I don't' mean to take it out on you. I just can't stand the thought of that---"He stopped as he heard the first footsteps on the stairs.

"Excuse me, but can I go outside and get my jump rope, Daddy?" she asked upon reaching the living room.

"Yes, of course, honey," smiled Don. "You don't have to ask to do that. By the way, this is Elizabeth Donnelly, the A.D.A. I called earlier."

"You're going to try the case?" Olivia asked as she shook hands while taking in the woman's short blond professional bob.

"Yes, I am," Donnelly said cordially. "In fact, it's one of my top priorities."

"Really?" The girl was surprised.

"Yes," Donnelly replied, sobering somewhat. "I became an assistant district attorney because I wanted to help crime victims, especially children. So when I was assigned this case, I communicated with the detectives, read all of the documents involved and spoke with Mr. Hollister's lawyer at length.

"And by the way," she continued, speaking directly to Olivia while indirectly informing her parents, "even he agrees that his client is too mentally unstable to be unsupervised. So he's going to spend some serious time in a mental facility. All we have to decide where and how many years. So he's no threat to you anymore."

"Then, he's never going come after me, ever?!"

"You have my word," Donnelly replied, nodding.

"Great," Olivia sighed, smiling with relief. "Thank you, Ms Donnelly!" Then, excusing herself, she departed from the room.

"Is that true?" Marge asked after hearing the storm door close. "He's not going to trial because you've made some deal to keep him institutionalized?"

"Well, we haven't worked out the details, but I believe Dr. Skoda's conclusion that his depression has led to him having a delusional belief that Olivia was the answer to his problems, which are great. In fact, Skoda thinks he'll get worse before he gets better."

"What do you mean?" Don asked, frowning.

"Well, he keeps asking to see Olivia again…"

"He won't!" Don promptly declared.

"Of course he won't. In fact, he is always refused," Donnelly explained. "Dr. Skoda feels he could have a complete mental breakdown if or when he realizes he'll never see her again. Thus, he'll need inpatient treatment all the more."

"Oh." Don relaxed before asking: "What does his shrink say?"

"Dr. John Fields also feels that Hollister is mentally fragile and shouldn't be released 'it has been determined that he no longer poses a threat to himself or others, especially the minor involved.'" She held up the document she was quoting from.

"So it's pretty much over, than?" Don wanted to make sure.

Donnelly smiled as she nodded. "I'm going to continue meeting with Hollister's attorney. The sentencing hearing has been tentatively planned for six weeks from now. This way his behavior can be further monitored and evaluated by the psychologists involved. Their conclusions, of course, are to be considered by the judge. Now, is there anything else I can help you with?"

"No, thank you, you've been very helpful," Don said gratefully as Marge smiled beside him. "I'm still going to have his parental rights terminated, though."

"Wait until after the sentencing," advised Donnelly, returning the papers to her attaché. "You'll have ammunition from two behavior experts."

"Wait, why hasn't Olivia come back in by now?" Marge exclaimed, suddenly concerned.

Quickly rising from their seats, the three adults hurried out the front door---and then stopped short. At the end of the driveway Olivia was skipping rope again. At Don's call, she ceased and quickly walked to the front door---smiling.

"Sorry. When I picked it up, I kinda felt like using it again---just for a few minutes," she explained somewhat awkwardly.

Beaming, Don tenderly stroked his daughter's cheek. "Come on; let's walk Ms. Donnelly to her car."


	23. Chapter 23

**Two days later at the office of Dr. Millicent Waters, 11:00AM**

"Olivia, what's wrong?" the middle aged blond inquired gently from her upholstered chair.

"Why---why do you ask?" the girl replied, glancing down at her clasped hands.

"I just asked how did your doctor's appointment go yesterday, and you crossed your legs, clenched you hands, and looked away for a few moments," answered Dr. Waters. "Is everything all right?"

Olivia sighed, shut her eyes, and shook her head slowly.

"What is it?" Dr. Waters asked quietly with a concern expression.

"It…it was my annual check-up," the twelve-year-old responded, her eyes remaining closed. "After…after the, the exam…Dr. Hudson---she's a nice older woman---asked if there was 'anything new to report'…And Marmee said…"

"Yes, Olivia," Dr. Waters gently prodded.

"She…told…her…that…my…br-breasts…hurt..." Tears leaked from her tightly squeezed eyes.

"How did you feel when she told the doctor that?" Dr. Waters probed gently.

"I was scared!" Olivia opened her eyes wide, as if reliving her fear.

"'Scared? Of what?"

Long seconds passed in silence.

"When I was…at the hospital last week," Olivia said finally, almost inaudibly, "a female doctor came up to me, when I was on the stretcher. There was just me and a nurse in the room. She said that…they had to check to…see if rotten Mr. Hollister…hurt me when I was drugged---when I was unconscious. She told me that it was all right because it…she was a doctor, and 'we're all girls here.' That's what she said. So they took me to another room where…I had to lay on a table, she, she look---she checked---I don't want to be touched that way again, ever!" She bent forward, sobbing into her hands.

Dr. Waters, taking a box of tissues from the top of her desk, quickly moved from her place opposite Olivia and sat beside her on the sofa. After giving her some tissues ("Th-thank you, Doctor."), she put her arms gently around her, being careful not to pull the child against her. Patiently she wanted for the girl to finish her necessary release.

Meanwhile, in Queens, Elliot faced his own difficulties. At the playground near his home, he pushed little Rosie on one of the baby swings. Soon a smirking tow-headed preteen, leaving a group of his peers, sauntered over to young Stabler.

"Hey, Elliot," he said flippantly.

"Whatta you want _now,_ Forrest?" Elliot replied irritably. The spoiled son of a politically-connected police lieutenant who lived nearby, Ed Forrest had long been a thorn in his side. In fact, Elliot now wondered why the nemesis had waited so long after Jim's termination to start his characteristic harassment.

"Oh, nothin', just wanted to show the paper," Ed replied with false innocence, extending a copy of _The New York Ledger_, which was folded open to an inside page.

His stomach rumbling with dread, Elliot nonetheless snatched the newspaper from the other boy and looked at one side. Sure enough, what he saw definitely stung him. On the top half there was a captioned photograph of Kenny Briscoe shaking hands with Captain Victor Hansen at the 15th Precinct, his smiling father and grinning uncle watching proudly. According to the accompanying story, Kenny was eligible for a civilian award "for providing much-needed assistance in locating a deranged kidnapper and his young female prisoner, who happened to be Kenny's classmate."

"Bet you wish that was you playin' hero, huh, Romeo? Not that her dad's gonna let _you_---"

Dropping the _Ledger _with a growl, Elliot lunged at the unsuspecting boy and sent him to the ground. Pinning him under his leg, the enraged Stabler sent blow after blow against Ed's face, arm, and chest. _Dad's no longer a cop, so what can ol' Daddy's Boy do to me now?!_

"Olivia," Dr. Waters counseled in Brooklyn when Olivia was calmer, "when the police suspect that someone has been assaulted on his or her private parts, medical examinations must be performed. This is how it can be determined whether a crime has been committed. Also, if the assaulted person needs medical treatment, doctors can administer it immediately. Now, I realize it's not easy on patients, even adult ones, but there's no reason to be ashamed or embarrassed, Olivia. Physicians and nurses see all parts of the human body in their profession. It's just a regular part of their work experience. And their only interest is helping their patients. Remember that. Always remember that."

Olivia sat quietly for a few minutes and thought about the doctor's words. She dried her eyes and cleared her nose. Finally, she said: "Dr. Hudson just said that I should start wearing a training bra, so I got scared for nothing."

"Did your mother and Dr. Hudson know about how you felt?" 

"No. They weren't looking at me, and I just kinda leaned back until she mentioned the training bra. Then Dr. Hudson said I could change back into my clothes." Olivia sighed and shrugged.

**Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, 20 minutes later**

While Marge prepared lunch in the kitchen, Don sat down on the living room sofa with Olivia. He gently took her hands into his and kissed her forehead. Then he squeezed her hands before speaking.

"If you have any questions or anything to say, don't hesitate, honey," he said gently. "Your mother and I love you, and we will help you anyway we can."

"Well…Daddy, I just want to say," Olivia slowly stated, "that---that I'm glad that Mr. Hollister---"she spat the appellation---"didn't hurt me."

Don gently embraced his child. "So am I, baby."

Supported by her father's loving arms, Olivia continued: "It-it would have been so much harder…how do people get through it?"

"Through what, Olivia?"

"After they've been hurt, how do they get through the-the emergency room?" Olivia finished.

Understanding her euphemistic inquiry, Don calmly looked at his daughter and said: "They get a lot of support from the medical staff and special counselors. Family and/or friends are helpful, too. So are we cops."

"How about the prosecutors? Are they also called to the hospitals?" she asked suddenly.

"Sometimes they are," Don said and then smiled. "You really took a shine to Ms. Donnelly, didn't you?"

"Yes," Olivia admitted. "She's real neat. She seems to care about me. And she acts like she wants to throw Hollister in jail as much as the police do."

"She does," Don responded. "because that's the goal of a good prosecutor, and she's better than good. She's written letters to politicians and newspapers to lobby for better laws. She also works with women's groups to get more assistance to abused women and children."

_Uh-oh, did I say too much?_

But Olivia was only impressed. "Wow, she's really something!"

"Subs are on the table," Marge announced, entering the living room.

"Thanks, Marmee!" The preteen hurried upstairs to wash her face and hands.

After their daughter's departure, Marge held her arms out to Don, who rose from the couch to walk into her embrace. After a tight squeeze, she initiated a long, tender kiss. Afterward, she said softly: "I heard some of what you said. I love you, Donald Cragen."

**The Stabler residence, 6:30PM**

Elliot sat glumly on the living room couch, staring at his lap. Bad enough that his mother had grounded him for the day after Mrs. Forrest's phone call. But now that his father was learning about what happened, the other shoe was sure to fall---and Elliot knew just where it was going to hit.

Jim glared down at his son. "Elliot, what the devil is wrong with you?!" he roared while his wife, Carol Ann, withdrew to serve the other children dinner.

"I didn't like his mouth---"

"Why not?! Because he knows the truth about you?! Because he knows a real hero when he sees one?!"

Frustrated by parents who didn't understand his pain, Elliot blurted out somewhat sharply: "How would you like it if someone said something to you about being fired, Dad?!"

Elliot soon regretted his words. With a low growl and wide eyes, Jim lunged at his son, pulled him up sby his biceps, and swung him around. Then he pulled back a stiff open hand---

The door bell sounded cheerfully.

Flinging Elliot at the couch, Jim dourly walked to the open front door. But when he saw two uniformed police officers through the storm door screen, his red face blanched and his forehead smoothed. _Oh, Elliot, not even you deserve this_.

"Evening, Jim," the older one said grimly. "I guess you know what we're here for."


	24. Chapter 24

**A Brooklyn barber shop, the next morning**

"Here we are," sang Marsha the beautician, turning the chair so the Cragens could see their daughter's new hairstyle. "Ready for Wall Street!"

"Or for the courthouse," Olivia quipped, causing some chuckles around the shop.

_It's the same hairdo as Donnelly's,_ Don thought as he beamed proudly. _And I thought she just wanted to get rid of the wedge Hollister had given her._

A few minutes later, as the Cragens exited the barber shop, they encountered Briscoe and Torricelli, who were on their way back to their car parked a few yards down. After an exchange of greetings, the detectives took in Olivia's new look. "Are you gettin' ready for all the boys in the seventh grade or just Kenny?" Briscoe asked jokingly.

Blushing, Olivia laughed so hard she couldn't reply. Meanwhile, Don said in dry humor: "Wow, thanks, Lennie. Are you going to spring for the tower and the moat?"

After the two parties were going their separate ways, Lennie said: "It's great seeing them happy and all together again."

"Yeah, I hear that," Brian agreed, nodding. "It's especially great to see Olivia laugh. "She's obviously recovering." Reaching the sedan, he moved around to the driver's side, sobering. "I sure hope she doesn't take the news about Elliot too hard---she's bound to hear about, you know, especially since _two uniforms_ were used to deliver the poison papers!" He opened the door to get inside, shaking his head in disgust.

Lennie smiled as he slid into the front passenger seat, his mind going over his nephew's shared confidence before last Sunday's family dinner. "I have a feeling that Miss Cragen is going to be alllll right."

**The Stabler residence, early afternoon**

"Well, how did the meeting with the lawyer go, Jim?" Carol Ann asked anxiously as her husband and eldest son entered the house.

While a crest-fallen Elliot quickly retreated to his room, his father answered: "It went just like I said." He walked into the kitchen and withdrew a beer before continuing. "Burger jumped at the opportunity to stick it to the cops by using an ex-cop." He took a long drink of brewed malt and hops.

"Then I guess it didn't cost us much," she said, feeling relieved.

Jim shook his head. "He's doing it pro bono."

Carol Ann stood staring at him agape.

"Oh, yeah," her husband continued, his tone lighter. "Like I said, he's looking forward to it. Of course, he didn't _say_ that. He said that this is a case that doesn't belong in juvenile court and that Dear Old Dad is just throwing his weight around so that his little guy don't get a wimpy rep."

"From what I understand from the boys, it's a little late for that," Carol Ann said, smiling slightly. "Still, Elliot shouldn't have lost his temper. That's way I apologized to Mrs. Forrest and punished him. _That_ was enough. At least it was when we were kids."

Jim nodded, draining his bottle. "Anyway," he said after he was finished, "in two weeks there will be a hearing, at which time Elliot should get probation, Burger says. There were no broken bones or lips, our son's record was clean, and 'he was under profound emotional distress.'"

"Distress? What distress?" Carol frowned, perplexed.

"You know, because he felt guilty about being unable to keep Olivia from being kidnapped. When Ed rubbed Kenny's success in his face, he snapped. Was he wrong? Of course. Does he deserve to be treated like some punk delinquent? No."

"Is there anything we need to do in the meantime, dear?" Carol asked, following her husband to their bedroom.

"Yeah, we need to collect as many letters of recommendation from our neighbors, Father McKinney, and everyone he's done odd jobs for," Jim replied. "Right now I'm going to get in a nap so that I'll be ready to work that second shift tonight."

After sending her husband off to sleep with a wifely kiss, Carol Ann quietly closed the bedroom door and went to address Elliot, who was lying pensively on his bed. With a stern expression, she pointed a steady finger at him, so he knew she meant business. Then she said quietly and yet forcefully: "You had better not do this _again,_ Elliot!"

**A Queens juvenile court, two weeks later  
**

Judge Milton Schuyler, a lean, gray-haired man with a scholarly demeanor, addressed the adults and children before him.

"As Mr. Burger quite accurately stated, one purpose of the juvenile system is to determine if a youth is deemed to be in need of correction. And in my opinion, which I base on the testimony of the witnesses, the information from his clergyman, and the letters from his neighbors, Elliot Stabler does not have that need."

The judge paused while the meaning of his words sank in. Elliot quietly exhaled with relief, Jim closed his eyes for a long moment, Burger nodded almost gloatingly and Father McKinney beamed thankfully. Meanwhile, Ed Forrest dropped his jaw while his father rose to protest.

"Settle down, Lt. Forrest," warned Judge Schuyler. He waited for the red-faced man to sit back in his place before continuing.

"As Mr. Burger pointed out, this is a case of inappropriate behavior that is an aberration for an otherwise law-abiding and industrious youngster. Furthermore, his parents, when alerted to his actions, gave an apology and administered appropriate punishments and arranged for spiritual counseling for their child. I've also taken into consideration that Elliot _was_ provoked---when he was caring for his little sister. So, I don't think he's in need of any special services or monitoring by the court.

"However," he added firmly, "if you ever come before a juvenile court judge again, Mr. Stabler, this incident _will_ be taken into consideration. You're leaving this court room without even probation because I have concluded that you don't require it. However, if you prove otherwise, there will be no such lenient treatment. Do I make myself clear, young man?"

"Yes, sir," Elliot answered earnestly. "If he comes to me again, I'm not gonna let my anger get me into trouble---I'll walk away, if I have to!"

"And remember to take your sister with you," Judge Schuyler quipped with a small smile. Sobering, he finished: "This court stands adjourned!" His gavel sounded loudly---as if in vindication.

"Thanks for everything, Mr. Burger," Jim Stabler said gratefully in the hallway minutes later, shaking hands with the heavyset, dark-haired man.

"It was my pleasure," Burger replied, smiling. "After years of public service, you deserve a break or two. You certainly don't need to have your son's life messed up over something like that."

"Nonetheless," Father McKinney said, "Elliot has learned a much-needed lesson from this." He looked at his young parishioner expectedly.

"From now on, I'm going control my feelings," the youth ssaid. "Cain let his negative emotions lead him to sin, and so did David, and whole lot of others. I'm not going to give anybody else an excuse to take me to court!"

"That's what I like to hear!" Burger exclaimed. "Now if you excuse me, I have to be back in Manhatten by this afternoon." After a final round of handshakes, he departed jauntily.

"And we've got a wedding rehearsal to prepare for," said the priest. "Let's go, young sexton."

"Thanks for every, Father, and keep walkin' straight and narrow, Elliot," smiled Jim.

Minutes later, as they were riding to the church, Father McKinney said: "Remember, Elliot, you can still help Olivia through prayer and other support."

"Like what?"

"You can write her cards and letters wishing her well," he said.

"You mean so that she can keep recovering?" Elliot asked, remembering an acquaintance's informing him that Olivia had refused to eat hamburgers at the recent PBA picnic.

"Yes, as well as for her general well-being," the priest replied. "Remember, there is more than one way to love someone."

_Hmmm_, Elliot thought, his mind digesting the words.

**  
**


	25. Chapter 25

**The Cragen residence, the Friday before Labor Day**

"Olivia, you got a letter from Elliot," called Marge as she entered the living room with the day's mail.

"Really?" said Olivia, coming down from the bathroom where she had been cleaning.

As she opened the envelope, the telephone rang. Don, who was in the kitchen making lunch, answered promptly. It was exactly who he hoped it was.

"This is Elizabeth Donnelly," said the ADA triumphantly. "Hollister suffered a major breakdown two days ago. Both Dr. Skoda and Dr. Fields have examined him, and they feel that he needs to be committed to a long-term facility. I pulled some strings and got the hearing moved up to today. The judge has indefinitely committed him to a residential facility upstate. If or when he's fit to stand trial, his lawyer plans to recommend that he remains in the same facility 'until he's no longer a danger to himself or anyone else.' Since _that_ is obviously going to take a considerable amount of time---I'm talking about years---and because he _is_ a very disturbed man, the People will accept the plea with all its terms."

"Then, it's all over," Don said, slowly smiling. "Olivia's safe from this creep!"

"Yes, Lieutenant, she is," Donnelly replied, a smile in her voice. "And yes, you can begin proceedings to get Hollister's parental rights terminated. I'll send over all the paperwork that your attorney requests."

Don sighed gratefully. "I don't how to thank you for everything, Ms. Donnelly," he said. "I---wait, why don't I get Olivia? I know she'd want to hear this from you."

"By all means, put her on!" Donnelly agreed enthusiastically.

A minute later Olivia said into the phone, "Hello, Ms. Donnelly?"

"Good afternoon, Olivia," Donnelly said pleasantly. "Mr. Hollister has suffered a severe nervous breakdown, and he is going to spend a _much_ extended period of time in a mental hospital."

"You mean he's going to be away for a _really_ long time? _Years??_" Olivia asked eagerly.

"Yes," replied Donnelly. "In fact, he may never come out."

"Great!" Olivia exclaimed, smiling with relief. "Thanks for telling me, Ms. Donnelly. And you're living up to your reputation."

"What do you mean?"

"Daddy's told me all about you and the work you do for woman and children," the girl replied. "He says you've even helped to _change_ the laws to help the _abused_!"

As Olivia continued her animated conversation with the ADA, Don listened attentively nearby. _I guess my daughter has found a role model. I wonder how long that's going to last. At least until she's ready to take her pension and retire as the Chief District Attorney of New York City, I hope!_

**Olivia's reply letter to Elliot**

_Dear Elliot:_

_Thank you for the thoughtful letter. Yes, I am doing better. In fact, I even ate a cheeseburger at the Greevey's BBQ last week. By the way, they're having another baby this April. _

_As you might know, Hollister has been sent to an institution, so I won't have to worry about __him__ anymore. Even__ if__ he ever does get out, I'll be an adult by then. So I feel like an evil, heavy, dark cloud has evaporated away from me forever!_

_I heard about your hearing. I'm glad you weren't punished. Just please stay out of trouble. Daddy says you don't get that kind of break often, so don't let that whiney jerk get to you again. I don't know exactly what he said to you---I keep hearing different rumors, and none of the grown-ups are saying anything---but it's not worth going away for. So behave yourself, OK?_

_By the time you get this it will be time for school again. Marmee and Daddy have been drilling me with new rules like walk close to the buildings instead of next to the street. Plus, Daddy is teaching me self-defense moves. I suppose I can't blame them for being worried, but I just know that everything is going to be all right. Besides, __I'm never __going to lie about where I'm going again__. Don't you either, OK?_

_I hope you had a very nice Labor Day weekend. Remember: behave yourself._

_Sincerely,_

_Olivia_

**Queens precinct, several weeks later**

"Welcome back, L.T!"

"Great to see you again, boss!"

"Now things can get back to normal!"

"Good to have you back in command, sir!"

Don smiled and returned handshakes as he made his way back to his office for his first full day of work in over a month. Since Olivia had recently adjusted back into her normal life of family, friends, interests, and school, he felt comfortable resuming his duties as precinct commander. As he sat down behind his desk, he gave a loving glance at the smiling schoolgirl in framed photograph to his left.

_I love you, little lady. You just keep being safe._

A knock sounded on the door. "Yes?"

Lennie Briscoe entered, smiling. "Welcome back, Don," he said, handing the lieutenant a thick folder.

"Thank you" Don replied, leafing through the papers. "I take it these are for the Miss Frannie the Nurse and Nanny case?"

"Yes, they are. As you can see, she has been seducing and blackmailing from sea to shining sea."

"Well, she's not going to make it from Maine to Florida," Don said determinedly. "I want you and Brian---"

"Betty," Lennie corrected.

"That's right, you all were switched again," Don said, smirking. "All right, you and Betty have to catch her in the act. See if you can convince our quaking councilman to have a listening device or two planted in his home while Miss Frannie is out of the house. You know the rest."

"We're on it, L.T." Lennie stood and took back the proffered folder. As he departed, he paused at the door and said: "Oh, and congratulations on getting Hollister's rights terminated."

Don nodded, reliving the relief and triumph he had felt in the family courtroom one week ago. "Thanks, Lennie."


	26. Chapter 26

**Halloween evening, Glen Oakes, Queens**

"What a cute little bunny!" squealed Mrs. Gill, handing the costumed Rosie Stabler a chocolate bar. "And Elliot-have one too. It seems like just yesterday you were coming here with your mother."

Elliot, slipping the bar temporarily into his sister's bag, was thanking his longtime neighbor when he heard a shriek from across the street. Turning quickly, he saw a younger boy---he couldn't have been more than 10 years old---sprinting across the road. There was a trick-or-treat bag in his hand. On the other side of the street, a "witch" was helping a "pumpkin" up from the sidewalk.

Knowing that Mrs. Gill would watch Rosie, Elliot raced across the yard to confront the thief. The latter proved to be a coward, slowing to a halt, dropping the bag, and turning to run away from the stern-faced boy with the clenched teeth and glaring blue eyes. Smirking triumphantly, Elliot stopped and picked up the abandoned booty while his sister and Mrs. Gills clapped and cheered happily.

Soon the two trick-or-treaters raced across the street to stand in front of him. The elder one seemed to be about his age. Her green tinted face had striking features and the eyes beneath the bristling black bangs were as blue as his.

_Hey, am I staring??_

"Thanks a lot! You've just saved Halloween for us!" the girl exclaimed gratefully.

"Oh, uh, you're welcome, Miss Witch," he managed, handing her the bag, which was passed to the younger girl. Since she had no bag herself, the elder girl obviously was, like Elliot, an escort---though a costumed escort.

"Her name is Kathy," laughed the smaller girl, "and my name is Charlotte---but _you_ call me Charlie!"

"She's a tomboy," explained Kathy.

Just then, Mrs. Gill walked over with Rosie. Smiling, she distributed candy bars to the girls, plus two more to a surprised Elliot, who thanked her before placing them in Rosie's bag.

"I'm Elliot, and this is my sister Rosie," the boy said. "We're on our way back home---"

"I go 'round the block 'til Ima big girl!" Rosie broke in. "Dis is my firss time!"

"Well, it's our first time, too---in this neighborhood," Kathy explained. "We just moved into our new house---it's six blocks from here---after leaving Forest Hills. And a minute ago, I wished we were back there---until you sprang into action!"

"I was just being a good Catholic," Elliot said casually with a grin.

"Hey, we're Catholic, too!" Kathy said, eyes lighting up. "In fact, Mom's enrolling us in the Sisters of Mercy Academy tomorrow."

Elliot's eyes almost popped. "I go there! I'm in the 7th grade."

"Then I'll probably see you!" Kathy said excitedly. "_I'm_ in the 7th grade! Boy, what a relief. You see, all of the kids we've met on our block so far go to the public schools. I was starting to wonder if I would have any school friends nearby."

"Do you have any younger brothers or sisters?" inquired Charlie.

"I have three brothers that are around your age," answered Elliot, nodding.

"Terrific!" Charlie said as she and Kathy exchanged smiles.

"I'm really glad we ran into Elliot," the older sister added.

"Me too." _Did I say that??_

"You wanna be her boyfriend?!" Rosie piped up suddenly.

His face burned, but Elliot's heart was light as he joined the ensuing laughter.

**Meanwhile, in Bensonhurst…**

Marge was busy in the living room, handing out candy when she wasn't preparing baby shower invitations. As she worked, she glanced repeatedly at the wall clock and then at the front door, straining to hear Olivia's footsteps. When the telephone rang, she hastened to the kitchen.

"Hello?" She forced herself to sound calm and affable.

"Hi, honey," Don said, somewhat anxiously, "is our girl back from collecting for U.N.I.C.E.F.?"

"Not yet, but I suspect she'll be home at any moment," Marge replied placidly, stepping towards the living room to peek at the front door.

She heard Don sigh and quickly continued: "We told her to stay with Kenny and his father and not to enter any homes, even if invited---"

A loud knock sounded at the back door.

"See, she's at the back door now!" She turned to move quickly to answer the summons.

"Marge remember to check through the curtains first!"

"Relax, I see her," she reassured, hiding her relief at seeing Olivia, Kenny, and his father, Joe, when she parted the back door window's curtains.

"We didn't want you to think that we were trick-or-treaters," Joe explained seconds later as he followed the children inside, "so Olivia suggested the back way."

_So what if I did greet you with candy? _But Marge only said: "Did the kids behave themselves?"

"Oh, sure," Joe replied, "and I inspected the candy that some of the folks 'forced on' them."

"Well, we _did_ tell them that were collecting for U.N.I.C.E.F.," Olivia said, dropping a few confections into a small bowl.

Remembering her husband, Marge said, "Olivia, please say your goodbyes and talk to Daddy."

"Good night and thank you," Olivia said to Kenny and his father as she crossed the room to take the receiver from her mother.

While Marge escorted the Briscoes to the front door, Olivia greeted her father warmly. "Hi, Daddy!"

"Hey, Sweetheart!" Don answered lightly, concealing his relief. "Did you have a great time collecting donations with your _boyfriend?_"

"Daa-dee!" The girl blushed. _Though I kinda like how he feels about me._

**Bensonhurst, a few days later**

Olivia sat on her bed pensively, a letter from Elliot in her hand. After a few minutes, she stretched out on her back and reread it. But it still said the same thing:

_Dear Olivia:_

_How are you? I'm fine. Did you have a Happy Halloween? Let me tell you about mine! I was taking Rosie around the block when this little punk stole a bag from a girl across the street. But when I ran to get him, he turned yellow and ran, leaving the bag! Of course, I returned it to its owner, a girl named Charlie Maynard---she's a tomboy---who was trick-or-treating with her sister Kathy, who's in my class at Sisters of Mercy. She and her sister have just moved here from Forest Hills and live only six blocks from my home. They've since come over a few times. Charlie gets along great with my brothers---she can even throw a baseball overhand! And Kathy's cool. When I first met her, she was dressed like a witch, with green makeup and an ugly black wig. But at school the next day, I hear someone in the hallway call "Elliot!" I turn around, and I see this blond girl smiling at me. I'm confused at first, but then I remember whose voice it is and say, "Oh, hi Miss Witch." Then everyone freezes, and the ever-present and always fearsome Sister Superior begins "__MIS-ter STAY-blerrr__…" I'm freaking out, wondering if she'll let me explain, but Kathy, the new kid, just holds up her hand and walks up to her and explains everything. Then Sister apologizes, which has __never__ happened before, and goes on her way. And then later, in gym class, Kathy makes it all the way to the top of the rope. She can cook too. The first time she and Charlie visit, she brings a big batch of sugar cookies that she made as a thank-you for helping her and her sister. They're better than my mother's. (Don't tell anyone. Since the Halloween caper Dad's been acting like he's actually pleased with me for a change!)_

_Well, I've got to go help chase Rosie down for her bath. Hope you have a nice day!_

_Sincerely,_

_Elliot_

Why did the letter bother her? He seemed happy. He had performed "a good deed" that pleased his father. He hadn't got into trouble with Sister Superior because this new girl Kathy---

Kathy.

Kathy Maynard.

…_Kathy's cool. And she can cook…_

Something started forming in the back of her head, but she forced it back into its pit with a balling of paper, which she pitched into her wastebasket. Then she went downstairs to the kitchen to see if there were any ingredients for chocolate chip walnut cookies. They were Kenny's favorites.


	27. Chapter 27

**Queens, December 1980**

It was shaping up to be a busy evening at the precinct. First, either RDK or a copycat claimed a female vagrant. ("Tell the M.E. I want those results yesterday!") Meanwhile, a slightly stoned coed tipped them to a local disco's backroom activities. ("Lennie! Betty! Get down there---I mean, go there and speak to whoever's in charge and any employees you can pin down!") Next, a serial john-slasher made her (or his, as the second victim had been bisexual) fourth attack. ("Torricelli! Flynn! Get to the scene _now_!")

Nevertheless, when Marge dropped Olivia off, Don immediately put a senior sergeant in charge and escorted the girl to his car. Together they rode to a Chinese restaurant, where Marge had earlier placed their "take-out" orders, and had dinner. Then father and daughter went to a nearby discount boutique and picked out a scarf and hat set ( Marge's Christmas gift from her) and some musk (Marge's present from him.)

On their way back to the precinct, they stopped at a light. Olivia turned her head and saw Elliot with friends diagonally across the street. She almost pointed them out to Don, but she noticed him playfully block the pink-gloved blows of a laughing blond. Olivia figured that this was Kathy---Kathy who had saved Elliot from a strict nun, Kathy who baked such wonderful sugar cookies.

She shifted her gaze straight forward and asked: "May I have a new dress for the PBA holiday dance?"

Surprised that his daughter had posed such a question to him---clothing was Marge's jurisdiction---Don nevertheless replied: "I thought your Grandmother brought you something when she and Grandpa had Thanksgiving dinner with us."

"Oh, yeah, that's right," Olivia said, nodding in remembrance. _I gotta get a grip. It's not like Elliot was my boyfriend, anyway. He could have been, but his father messed everything up. And anyway, Kenny's cool, he's funny sometimes, he thinks up great pranks to pull on his sister, he's kinda cute, he's a good kisser---**did I just** **think that?!** It's a good thing Daddy can't read minds!_

As she continued to ruminate with warming cheeks, Don glanced over at her and smiled. _She's thinking about Kenny._

A week later, Elliot Stabler stood in front of the Christmas cards inside of a drugstore near his home. He wanted to send Olivia something special. Lately, her replies to his letters had become just perfunctory notes concerning her school routine and Kenny Briscoe's activities. Of course, there was nothing romantic in the letters. In fact, Kenny was to Olivia what Kathy was to Elliot.

_I think_.

"Hey, Elliot!"

"Oh, uh, hi, Kathy!" Elliot turned to see the smiling girl approach him from the right. "Wha' cha doing?"

"I'm buying an aftershave gift set for my daddy," she answered. "What are you doing?"

"Ah, I'm getting a card for, uh, someone special." He suddenly felt awkward.

"Ohh! Well, I guess I'd better be going!" She quickly moved down the aisle and turned right.

Elliot grinned and shook his head. She thinks the card's for her. That's why she left so fast. Heck, she's probably blushing like Olivia did when---hey, wait a minute, if she likes me, than---

"Merry Christmas, Elliot." Ed Forrest was suddenly standing beside him, holding a newspaper and smirking.

"All right, Ed, what is it this time?" Elliot sighed. Then remembering a technique he had witnessed Kathy use with a public school nemesis, he continued: "Wait, let me guess: Kenny Briscoe won the award. Or better yet, Kenny's picture is in the paper---and Olivia's giving him a thank-you kiss. Good for him! Now if you excuse me, I gotta buy someone special a Christmas card." He swiftly turned to the card rack.

Not wanting to give up, Ed attempted to have the last word. "Now who would accept a piece of paper crap from you?!"

"You'll be surprised." Both boys turned to see Kathy standing nearby, an Aqua Velva gift box in her arms.

Scowling, Ed walked away without another word.

"Hey, thanks," Elliot said smiling. "That's two I owe you."

"Two?"

"Yeah, first Sister Superior, and now Ed," Elliot explained.

"Oh, Elliot, Sister just needed an explanation, and you were doing well enough with Ed," Kathy said modestly. "I just wanted…well, I just wanted to let you know that, I, uh, wouldn't mind getting a Christmas card from you."

"Well I wouldn't mind sending you one!" Elliot responded. _Did I say __that?!_

Hours later in his room, Elliot dared to open the newspaper that his father had bought on his way home from work. Turning the pages, he stopped when he saw the heading: "Detective's Nephew Among Heroes Receiving Civilian Awards". Accompanying the article was a photograph of Kenny, a medal hanging from his neck, receiving a kiss on the cheek from Olivia while their parents---and Kenny's Uncle Lennie---laughed.

Surprised that he didn't feel devastated, Elliot lay back on his bed and began to cogitate. He thought about the recent short letters from Olivia. Then he recalled the evening that he and Kathy met. Then he reflected on the times they had since spent in each other's company, usually with other people. He grinned, sat up, and went to gift wrap the little Whitney's Sampler box of chocolates that he had furtively purchased earlier.

**The Cragen residence, Christmas Eve 1980**

Coming home near midnight, Don was glad to see that his wife had waited up for him in their bedroom.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, moving to his wife's bedside to kiss her.

"I'm just glad you're here," she said, "and that you were able to get the next ten days off."

"Well, it's a present from the brass," Don said, smiling as he disrobed. "I guess they want us to have a happy holiday after last summer." He paused, thanking God that his daughter was safe from Joseph Hollister.

"That reminds me," Marge said suddenly. "This morning Olivia went to the library, and later, when she was cleaning the bathroom, I took some clean laundry to her room, and I found books about rape, child abuse, and crime prevention on her desk!"

"Really?" Don smiled, raising his eyebrows. "Did you say anything to her?"

"No," Marge admitted, "I wanted to ask you what you thought about it. Personally, I'm surprised. After her kidnapping last summer, you would think she'd be afraid of such subjects."

"Well, some victims find such reading to be cathartic," Don explain, sliding into bed. "The knowledge somehow helps them to overcome any fears and/or anxieties that they may have. Also, the literature often contains safety information, which we gave Olivia anyway. I'll talk to her about it---not to discourage her, just to see what her motives are and give her some guidance."

"That sounds like a good idea, Donnie," Marge said, "but let's wait until after tomorrow, all right? I want us to have a pleasant holiday."

_So how does your mother's visit figure in it? _But all Don said was: "Sure."

Snuggling up to her husband, Marge initiated a long, tender kiss. "Merry Christmas, Donnie."

"Merry Christmas, Marge."

_Author's note: Aqua Velva is a registered trademark._


	28. Chapter 28

**December 26, 1980**

Olivia, lying on her new patchwork comforter, wrote in her diary.

_It was the best Christmas ever! There were so many surprises and visiting and gifts and everything that I didn't have time to write about it until __today!__ It started early yesterday morning---the clock said it was five something---and I just had to sneak a quick peek. I tiptoed downstairs and found a __pink ten-speed bicycle with a big blue bow attached!__ I was so excited that I could hardly keep my scream down! I ran upstairs and tried to go back to sleep, but of course I couldn't. So I finished that biography on Allen Pinkerton and started writing the extra credit report. Marmee knocked on my door at around 7 and whispered that since Daddy had worked late (On my bike?) we should let him sleep and have breakfast while---_

A rap sounded at her door. "Olivia?"

Closing her book, she sat up and hastily fastened her new emerald green bathrobe before answering. "Come in, Daddy." 

Don, smiling casually, walked into the room and sat on her bed beside her. "Your mother says you've been reading up on law and order," he said, gesturing at the tomes on her desk. "Thinking about a career?" He gave a mischievous look.

Olivia smiled a bit shyly. "Actually, I've been thinking about becoming a prosecutor," she replied slowly.

Still smiling, Don raised his eyebrows. "Really? Does a certain ADA have something to do with this decision?"

Meeting his eyes, Olivia nodded. "I'll always be grateful for what Ms. Donnelly did for me," she said soberly. "And I admire what she does for crime victims. But…but there's another reason…" She looked away, her eyes showing a pain he hadn't seen in a year.

"What is it, honey?" Don gently inquired, placing his lightly on hers.

"Ever since my final appointment with Dr. Waters in October, I've been thinking about all of the people that have helped me since…last year," she replied thoughtfully. "I was…an abused child, all alone except for my mother and her drinking buddy, and, and two strangers helped me when I needed it the most." She paused for a moment to wipe a tear away. "Because you took me in, other police officers helped me, too. Remember when my things were brought here?"

"Sure," Don said, nodding. _He was dirty, but Eames did save me from putting that bed together. _

"And even Anita Van Buren, who talked to me in the hospital, sent me a Christmas card from her and her new husband," she resumed. "I want to help people, especially kids, like I was helped. I'd like to be a prosecutor the same way Ms. Donnelly is. I don't want to just _try_ criminals in court; I want to _really talk_ to their victims and fight for their rights and needs. So, I figured I'd start getting ready now, though we won't be taking our career aptitude tests until next year. Last month I'd read a few legal pamphlets, plus a couple of crime books, in the school library right after I finished lunch. Now I've moved onto these." She gestured to her desk.

Moved by the girl's compassion and ambition, Don squeezed his daughter's hand. "If that's what you want to do, Olivia" he said, smiling with misty eyes, "then I'm behind you all the way." He embraced her with a kiss. "Why don't we go down to the kitchen and tell your mother?"

When Marge learned of her daughter's career plans minutes, she responded with a proud hug. "Why didn't you tell me about your plans?" she asked, rubbing the girl's back.

"I was afraid you would think I was becoming obsessed or something," Olivia replied a little sheepishly. "I didn't want you to worry about me." _At least not any more than you do already because of last summer._ "And Marmee, can you please do one thing for me, please?"

"What, baby?"

"Please don't tell Grandma---she'd _really_ flip!"

_She's using great detective skills already_, Don thought as he and his family laughed.

**Brooklyn, New York, Easter Sunday, 1984**

Arriving at his new partner's home, rookie detective Michael Logan departed from his parked vehicle and walked towards the door, holding a huge basket of confections and trying to quell his nerves. The tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed officer hadn't meant to oversleep and miss Mass, breaking a promise to his partner of one month. But, the lovely lady at the gift shop had been kind enough to let him in at closing time, so he just had to invite her to dinner and a late movie---

"Ah, forget about it," he told himself quietly, ringing the front doorbell. "What's done is done, and I took time to put the candy in the fridge---"

Expecting an irate Max or a forgiving Marie to answer, the detective was surprised when the door opened to reveal an attractive young woman. She wore her brunette hair in a professional feminine bob. Her light green spring dress displayed a pearl-bordered cross. Each ear lobe held a pearl earring.

_This must be one of the 'surprise guests' that Max alluded to Friday, and she looks familiar---_

"Happy Easter, Detective Mike Logan," she said cheerfully. "We've been expecting you." She opened the storm door.

Stepping inside, he likewise replied, "Happy Easter right back at you, Ms.---?"

"Cragen. Olivia Cragen," she said, taking the gift basket from him.

_That's why I kinda recognized her! She's the girl they thought Doug Franklin took a while back. Uh-oh, if __she's__ here, that means that her __lieutenant father's__ here!! Great job sleeping in, Logan. At least I know to watch before I flirt, or I'd be in worse shape!!_

By now he had followed her to the dining room, where the hosts and guests were sitting down for Easter brunch. At either end of the table sat Max and Marie Greevey. Sitting in a booster seat near his mother was little Robbie, who was happily tapping his sippy cup with his toddler spoon. Beside him sat MJ, furtively pulling at his tie. And beside him was a man whom Mike deduced to be Lieutenant Donald Cragen.

Rising, Max put out his hand and smiled as he remarked dryly, "Happy Easter and glad you could join us, Michael."

"Max, please," laughed Marie.

"Don't sweat it, Marie, I deserve it," Mike said lightly as he shook hands. Then, hoping to further soften the situation, he added as he turned towards Cragen: "Hey, I'm lucky I don't work under Lieutenant Cragen here!"

"That's_ Captain_ Cragen now, Detective," Don said as he rose to offer his hand.

_Oh, yeah, lookin' good, Mike!_

"Sorry, sir," was all the younger man could say.

"Don't worry about it," Don said smiling. "Half of my people at the precinct still call me 'lieutenant.'"

"And I should have properly introduced you, anyway," Max added amiably. "Speaking of introductions, the lovely woman beside the captain is his wife Marjorie."

"Please call me Marge." She smiled as she put out her hand.

"And you've already met their daughter Olivia," Max concluded as the sixteen-year-old, having placed the gift basket on a kitchen counter, joined them.

"And the pleasure was mine," Mike said as he shook her hand.

"Thank you, but we need to wait a few years," Olivia replied pleasantly.

For the first time since his junior high school days, Mike felt himself blush. "I know that---it's just that you're so polite and charming that your boyfriend's folks must be very happy."

"Why, thank you, and they are," Olivia replied.

Sometime later, while the ladies washed the dishes in the kitchen, MJ busied himself with his Easter-theme coloring book in the dining room, and Robbie napped upstairs, the men conversed in the living room. Max fed 10-month-old Ritchie, who had fallen asleep before brunch and who was now alert in his high chair. Don and Mike sat on the couch nearby, munching on miniature chocolate Easter eggs from the basket that was now resting on the coffee table.

"That's my little guy," Max said as the child grabbed his bottle from the tray for a drink. "At this rate you'll be using your little spoon soon."

"Yeah, I'll bet!" Mike laughed. "In my experience with my nephew, those spoons make great face paint applicators!"

"I know, I've seen you eat at the station," quipped Max.

They were all still laughing (even the baby had joined in) when Olivia entered holding with her purse and a gift box.

"Marmee said I can take the Turkish delight for the Briscoes now," she said.

"All right," Don said almost reluctantly, rising to hand her the car keys. "Don't be there all day, hon. And be careful, please."

"I will." She gave him a cheek kiss.

"You're gonna be there all day or you're gonna be careful?" Max could not resist.

"Oh, Uncle Max!" She went to kiss him good-bye. Then, still smiling, she gave Mike a wave. "I'll see you later, then?"

"Oh, I'll be here when you get back," the young man said lightly. "I have to finish off these eggs before I get to the jelly beans."

"Save some for me!" Olivia laughed as she made her way to the front door.

As she walked to her father's car, she thought: _He's got a sense of humor like Elliot's. Wonder what he's doing these days?_

Entering the vehicle, she slipped behind the wheel and prepared to take her much-anticipated journey to Bensonhurst.


	29. Chapter 29

**The Briscoe Residence, Brooklyn, New York, June 1986**

Olivia opened her eyes and, quickly remembering her location, looked around alertly. The bedside clock near the open box of condoms read 10:30PM. Her purse still rested on the desk chair across the room. A poster of Rambo hung on the closed door. On top of the dresser, Kenny's recent 8 ½ by 11 graduation portrait shared space with a 5 by 10 senior prom picture. Sighing, she moved to exit their intimate embrace.

"Humph?!" Kenny was startled awake.

"I have to get back now, Kenny-Love," she whispered urgently, using the nickname primarily out of habit.

He rolled to lie beside her and watched as she wordlessly left the bed and hurried to the folded clothes at the foot of the bed. _Oh, Livvie-Babe, you're one in a million. Anybody can be gorgeous and athletic, but you're smart without being a know-it-all, you're funny without being corny, you're compassionate without being naïve. So how did things between us drag to a halt?_

Now fully dressed, Olivia put the purse's strap on her shoulder and turned towards the door. "Later," she said to Mr.Rambo.

"Later, Liv," Kenny replied, smiling perplex. "Lock up, and call me when you get home, OK?"

"Sure." She opened the door and closed it behind her carefully, though presently no one else was home.

Once outside, Olivia walked briskly_. I tried to put a spark into our relationship, and all I did was ignite the bomb that destroyed it. Well, actually, __we__ destroyed it: it was his idea, and I went along with it despite my doubts. __**Oh darn it, why didn't I listen to myself?!!**_ She abruptly kicked a discarded soda can, sending it diagonally across the street.

**The Cragen Residence, meanwhile**

"Want me to get you some ginger ale?" Don asked, concerned, as Marge slowly exited the bathroom.

"Please." She grimaced stressfully as she entered their bedroom.

Going to fetch his wife's beverage, Don pondered her recent symptoms. For the past few weeks she had been having headaches and fatigue, seemingly from stress. She had, after all, spent days preparing the celebration for Olivia's recent graduation (with a scholarship to his alma mater St. John University!). Right after the festive affair (attended by guests that included the Lennie Briscoes, the Joey Briscoes, Sergeant and Mr. Van Buren, ADA Donnelly, whose guest was fellow ADA John J. McCoy, and Max and Marie Greevey), Marge had collapsed fully-clothed across their bed even though she had performed no clean-up chores.

_And then she slept for almost 10 hours,_ Don thought, as he poured chilled ginger ale into a glass. _And yesterday she started getting nauseous on and off. __**Wait a minute**__…_He smiled at the possibility he had in mind.

Exiting the kitchen, he started for the stairs. He was mounting them when he heard his daughter's front door entrance. Don glanced at his watch and smile approvingly.

"Hi, honey," he called down when she came into view.

"Hello, Daddy," she answered in false cheer. "Is Marmee feeling better?"

"She's sort of rocky again," Don said. "I'm taking her a little bedtime relief."

"Oh, well, please tell her I hope she feels better," the young woman said with concern.

Don nodded and resumed his ascent as Olivia went into the kitchen to call Kenny.

Sighing, she put her purse on the kitchen counter and began to dial. _I wish I could just take it back! But I can't! Maybe I should---_

"Hello, Olivia?"

"Hello, Kenny. I made it home safely."

"Great. So, how about I see you tomorrow?"

"No can do. I have to start getting ready for Grandma and Grandpa's trip to Niagara Falls next week."

"Oh, yeah, that's right! Well, I'd better let you get to bed---again!"

_Not so funny, Kenny! _"All right, thanks. Night-night, Kenny Love." _Why did I call him that?  
_

"Sweet dreams, Livvie-Babe." He hung up.

Sighing, she hung up and went upstairs to take a shower. Although she had felt somewhat guilty about leaving with Marmee under the weather, now she was looking forward to being away for a while. It would give her time to really think where they were headed. _As if we're actually headed anywhere now._

**The following day, 10:30AM**

Don sat on the side of the bed, one arm around Marge. Together they stared at the results of the pregnancy test kit in his hand. Eventually, the silence was broken.

"It's really positive?" Marge whispered, her voice quavering.

"Yes, Marge, darling," Don replied with tenderness. "So you're really pregnant. We're going to have a baby!"

Weeping happily, she embraced him as their lips met for a number of joyous kisses. Another person was growing inside of her, someone who had been so symbolically conceived through an expression of marital love and union. A beautiful baby boy or girl---

"Donnie!" She broke from him abruptly. "Should we tell Olivia when she returns from shopping?"

Don looked at her in surprise. "Why shouldn't we? You know she'll be exited. And she gets along great with kids, whether it's during story hour at the library or babysitting for someone. Heck, she's like a sister to the Greevey boys _now_."

"Oh, I know that our daughter be thrilled," Marge replied. "But because she just graduated from high school with honors and a scholarship, maybe it's appropriate that she remain in the spotlight until after her gift vacation. Besides, the good news will go over much better if we have the doctor's confirmation, and he won't be in his office until Monday morning."

Don considered his wife's words and then nodded. "You're right on both counts. And one other thing: if your mother finds out today, she may change her mind about going to Niagara Falls!" He laughed as Marge playfully swatted his leg.

**Manhatten, 10:45AM**

Olivia, holding a shopping bag, sighed as she walked meditatively down a familiar street. She was shopping this borough partially because she wanted to avoid "accidentally" meeting Kenny at one of their shopping haunts. But she also wanted to revisit the most fateful locations of her life. She had been thinking about making this trip ever since she turned 18 in the spring. Now that she was about to really begin her adult life, she wanted to take stock of her childhood. Already she had walked past her and Mother's apartment. Now, she paused in front of the ice cream parlor, which had since been purchased by a national franchise.

Well, that place's changed. But then maybe it's just as well: Mother and I can never eat there again.

She sighed sadly, closing her misty eyes and shaking her head. Over the years she had accepted Professor Benson's alcoholic life and intoxicated death---otherwise, this journey would not have been possible. And Marmee _was_ her mother, as far as her heart was concerned. Nonetheless, her biological parent's death would be painfully poignant.

After wiping at her eyes, Olivia turned around to walk in the other direction. Now it was time to finish purchasing her vacation supplies. Next on her list was film for her new camera. Remember a drugstore nearby, she quickly rounded the next corner---and nearly collided with a tall, lean but toned young man with dark hair and blue eyes. Startled, she was about to excuse herself, but froze in recognition.

"Olivia?!" Elliot was also taken aback.


	30. Chapter 30

**Manhatten, Saturday**

Recovering, Olivia smiled and addressed the young man dressed in a "Mets" tee shirt and long, baggy camouflage shorts. "Long time, no see, Elliot!"

He responded with a familiar charming grin. "I'll say!" He shook her hand. "So, how are your folks? I heard your dad just got promoted."

"Yes he did," she responded proudly. "Two weeks ago Daddy started working with Uncle---I mean, Sergeant Max Greevey again as a _captain_ _and CO_ of the 2-7 here in Manhatten."

"Well, congratulations to him!" Elliot seemed genuinely pleased. "I'll bet your mother's proud."

Olivia frowned a bit. "Well, yes, but she hasn't been feeling well lately."

Elliot sobered. "I'm sorry to hear about that."

Nodding her thanks, she continued: "She's tired a lot, gets headaches, and started getting nausea and stomach aches."

Elliot raised his eyebrows. "I'm no doctor, Olivia, but I_ am_ a big brother. Maybe it's the stork?"

"I…I never thought of that possibility," she said slowly. "I guess I've been…preoccupied. I'm getting ready to take a trip to Niagara Falls with my grandparents." She hastily added the last part.

"Oh, yeah, I remember how they spoil you," Elliot laughed. Pointing to her bag, he asked: "Isn't that how you're able to shop at the _original_ Macy's?"

She giggled, glad that he gave her an excuse to be in Manhatten. "When someone gives you a gift certificate, why not make the most of it?" After their laughter subsided, she inquired: "So what brings _you_ here?"

"Just touring to give myself a last hurrah before I go to marine boot camp," he explained. "I'm going the Rambo route for four years, and then Kathy and I will get married."

"What---you're serious?!" Olivia was taken aback.

He nodded. "By the time I'm discharged, Kathy will have finished nursing school. Then I can pursue my dream of becoming a cop."

"Well, in that case, I'll probably see you when I'm an ADA! Listen, Elliot, I have to go---I want to finish up and be back in Brooklyn by dinner time, plus Marmee might need me. It was nice seeing you again." She put out her hand, hoping that he wouldn't slip in an inquiry about her and Kenny.

"It was nice seeing you, too, Olivia." Elliot shook her hand before they parted company. "Bon voyage!" He called over his shoulder.

"Congratulations and good luck!" Olivia answered, feeling an uneasiness that she couldn't define.

**Bensonhurst, one week later**

It was two hours after Olivia and her grandparents had pulled up in front of the Cragen home. By now the Hamiltons, after 90 minutes of light snacks and pleasant conversation, had departed for Manhasset. Marge and Don sat in happy anticipation on the couch while Olivia unpacked in her room.

"Honey," Don said cheerily when she returned to the living room, "Marmee and I have something to tell you."

Noting their quiet excitement, the young woman remembered Elliot's words and quickly went to sit down beside Marge. "So, what's the surprise?"

"A surprise is exactly what it is," Don replied, smiling broadly. "Your mother and I never thought that we would be blessed a second time."

Eyes widening, Olivia took her mother's hands into hers. "Then---you _are_ going to have a baby?! You're really pregnant?!"

Her own eyes glistening, Marge gave a smiling nod. "And you're going to be a _very_ _big_ sister!"

Laughing and crying, Olivia moved to embrace both of her parents, who held her close to them. She hadn't felt this way since the day her adoption was finalized. In fact, it was as if she were now a part of a wonderfully new family.

And she knew that her warmth and joy would help bolster her later when she would give Kenny the bad news…

**A drugstore in Staten Island, August**

She had sworn years ago that she would never sneak behind her parents' backs, but here she was. Although she had told them that she was going to St. John's to better familiarize herself with the campus and the area around it, she was moving through the store on a bleaker mission. She stopped when she arrived at the right shelf. She was carefully comparing the home pregnancy test kits when she heard a familiar voice:

"Olivia?!"

Author's note: I don't own the rights to the "Rambo" movies or any of it's characters.


	31. Chapter 31

**Staten Island Drugstore**

Her heart bumping with recognition, Olivia turned to face a smiling Mike Logan.

"Oh, hi Mike," she said with a deceptive amiability. "What brings you to Staten Island?"

"My cousin, who lives nearby, had a baby last night," he explained, "and I realized on the ferry that I forgot to buy a card for the gift!" He smirked and rolled his eyes.

"But you remembered your weapon," she said playfully.

"What are you, my wife?!"

Olivia laughed genuinely. "Mike, you're such a riot; no wonder you have so many girlfriends!"

He blushed somewhat, though he still smiled. "Maybe," he replied. Then he asked suddenly: "Say, you're 'a long, long way from home.' What brings you here to 'Outer Mongolia'?"

Sobering, she explained evenly: "I have girlfriend here who needs to find some answers discretely." She held up one of the test kits.

"Ohh," Mike responded, nodding solemnly. "Well, I hope things work out for her. Look, I better run. Say hi to your folks for me."

"I will. See you around, Mike," she said as they parted company.

After buying the less expensive kit, she exited from the store and quickly headed down the street and turned the corner. She spotted the sign of a pizza parlor several doors down and hurried to enter the establishment. At the counter she ordered a plain slice and asked about the restroom.

Meanwhile, inside the drug store, Mike Logan brooded over Olivia's explanation as he searched the card rack.

_Would Olivia go all the way to Staten Island to buy a pregnancy test kit for a friend? And what friend---wait, Olivia__ did__ participate in that leadership thing last summer. Don said she'd made some '__local__ pen pals.' And Marge once told me that person that her school friends call 'whenever they need a shoulder to cry on.' And it __would__ be just like Olivia to go to bat for someone in distress---she's talked at least one of her classmates into going to AA._

With those encouraging thoughts Mike cheerfully searched a few more minutes before making his selection.

**The Cragen Residence, 6PM**

"Marmee! Dad! I'm home!" Olivia almost shouted as she entered the living room.

"Just in time," Don said, coming down the stairs. "Your mother just said that the subs are ready." _And I was just starting to get concerned about your not being here at dinnertime. It'll always be that way, I guess._

"Thanks, Marmee," said Olivia, by now in the kitchen.

"So how was your trip to St. John's, Olivia?" Marge asked as her daughter kissed her cheek.

"Fine. I'm definitely not going to get lost," the younger woman replied, hiding her guilt. "By the way, _I'm_ cooking dinner tomorrow. I'll grill whatever's in the freezer, chop whatever's in crisper, and chill whatever you want for dessert!"

"Then you're going to be _very_ busy because the Greeveys are going to be here," Marge informed with a smile.

"Excellent! I'll make the boys' favorite: chocolate pudding." Olivia went upstairs to wash her hands.

"Well, she's pretty happy," Don said to his wife as he entered the room.

"Maybe when she visited St. John's today, she met a new guy," Marge quipped.

Don laughed as he moved to embrace his wife from behind, placing his hands on her slightly puffy lower abdomen. "Are you trying to make me lose _more_ hair?"

"Don, I'm sure our daughter will exercise good judgment when she goes to college," Marge said, turning in his arms to face him. They shared a kiss before she continued. "She did fine with Kenny, remember?"

He nodded and nuzzled her neck, rubbing her abdomen again to stimulate the life inside. When the results proved lacking, he applied kisses to cheek and lips until a teasing voice remarked: "Maybe I should just take my sandwich and come back later?"

Feeling a bit sheepish, the couple laughed as they parted, with Don saying, "Honey, I hope one day you understand what it's like to be happily married."

**A Bensonhurst hospital, January 1987**

Sitting in the waiting room, Olivia checked her watch and sighed. _It's 11:43. C'mon, little brother, or sister, I don't care; just get here before too long. I want to spend __some __time celebrating your arrival before going back to Manhatten. Besides, if you hurry I can get in some more studying before the Giants kick butt in the Super Bowel!_ She smiled at her private quip.

"Olivia?" Don, wearing green scrubs, appeared in the doorway.

Closing the book on her lap, the student rose in joyful anticipation. "Well, what is it?"

Don moved across the room to cup her face in his hands. "You have a baby sister as beautiful as you." His eyes were misty.

Not long afterwards, the Cragen family was in Marge's hospital room enjoying its latest member: Madison Victoria. They took turns holding the 7lb. 10 oz. baby, gazing at her through misty eyes and tenderly stroking her soft, smooth cheek. Next, photographs were taken: Marge cradling Madison, Don and Marge holding the infant, Olivia smiling at the sister sleeping in her arms, and finally, courtesy of a maternity nurse making rounds, the entire family, with Marge in bed holding the child, Don sitting beside her, and Olivia leaning close to her mother on the other side of the bed.

Eventually, Olivia reluctantly said, "Well, I really have to start back to school now. But I'm coming home next weekend, Marmee. Tell Grandma, Grandpa, Uncle Theo and Aunt Nessie 'hi' when/if they get here."

"Have a safe trip, Olivia," Marge said as her older daughter kissed her. "And remember to call us when you get back to your dorm."

"I will," the law student replied. "You be sure get your rest, and follow the doctor's instructions." She went to kiss her father farewell.

"Be careful, honey," Don said, hugging his daughter. "You're still our baby."

_And you two still want me_, she thought, closing her eyes and laying her head on his shoulder.

****


	32. Chapter 32

Author's note: Special thanks to El Chacal for providing important information

_Author's note: Special thanks to El Chacal for providing important information._

**The 27****th**** Precinct, Manhatten, 1991**

"Hey, look who's here!" Max Greevey said cheerfully, causing Mike Logan to look up from his desk.

"Hi Uncle Max! Hey, Mikey!" smiled the smartly dressed Olivia, who, as usual, had a leather attaché case hanging on her shoulder.

"Evening, Olivia." Max gave his honorary niece a kiss.

"Hey back at'cha," Mike replied jovially. "And watch it: only your dad can call me 'Mikey'!"

"Speaking of whom, is he available? I've got something _might_ help to locate little Stephen Talmadge and _possibly_ find his mother's killer, too," she explained, sobering.

"If it's about the Talmadge case, you don't see him; you see me," the senior detective said seriously. "What do you have?"

Opening the attaché, Olivia withdrew a legal pad. "I was about to leave the homeless shelter, and a pregnant resident came up to me. She said that she had heard someone mention that I was a law student, so she came to see me about a particular concern she hadn't shared with anyone."

"What is it?" Max asked.

Olivia explained, "She's afraid that after she gives birth, her abusive boyfriend is going to kidnap the child and take him to this--"she pointed to her pad--"adoption agency--for drug money."

Max asked, "Why does she think that? Did he threaten to do it?"

Olivia nodded. "She says that the last time he beat her, she begged for her unborn child's life. The guy then told her not to worry because unlike her, the baby was actually worth something and pushed the card in her face. Then he roughed her up some more before going to sleep."

"That son of a--"Startled, Max and Olivia looked up to see Mike standing in front of them. "Sorry, couldn't help but overhear."

"Anyway," Olivia continued, "last night, after he'd gone out to score some more dope, she copied the information on the card--she was just too terrified of him to take it--and went to the shelter. Although she's still too scared to press charges against him, she wants to keep the baby badly."

"I think you should give this serious consideration, Max," Mike said.

After a thoughtful pause, Sgt. Greevey said, "You have the name of the boyfriend?"

"Why aren't you doing your homework, young lady?" a smiling Captain Cragen said some time later, walking over towards Olivia, who was standing besides Logan and Max, who was by now preparing to leave.

She gave her father a kiss before explaining. "One of the shelter residents tipped me off to her ex-con boyfriend's plan to sell their baby to a so-called adoption agency."

"Oh, this is about the Talmadge case," Don said. "What do you have?"

"We have the name of the agency and the boyfriend's background," Max reported. "A couple of minor drug offenses, one assault complaint that was dropped--by a previous girlfriend, of course."

"That's it? Has the current lady friend pressed any charges or talked to anyone besides Olivia about her boyfriend's plans?" Don inquired.

"No," admitted Max. "In fact, those are a couple of the issues that your daughter and I are going to discuss later at my house. I'm taking her home afterward."

"And _if_ this is turns out to be one of the agencies on Uncle Max's list of 'suspects,' and _ if_ we--you can get the boyfriend to admit to something incriminating, and_ if_ his information is right, we might be able to find baby Stephen and bring his mother's murderer to justice," Olivia declared.

Her father couldn't help laughing. "First, that's a lot of 'if's'. Second, you're not a detective, honey, though sometimes I wonder if you should have gone to the academy instead of law school."

"Dad--"

"Honey, I know," Don said, raising his hand. "You 'want to be a voice for the victims in court and give them justice.'"

"It's…more than that, Dad," Olivia said solemnly. "Remember, this is also a child kidnapping case, and, well, I _was_ kidnapped…" She let the statement stand at that point.

"I understand," the captain softly. "You and Max go do your thing." He kissed her farewell. "I'll see you at home later."

**The Greevey Residence, Bensonhurst, Brooklyn**

"Just give me a second," said Max, as he searched through the papers stored in his car trunk.

"Do you store all of your cases in here?" Olivia playfully asked. She heard him laugh, and then, as he found what he had been looking for, she turned around to see a tall, lean man with dark hair--and a pistol grimly pointed in their direction. She quickly put up her hands, while taking in every detail of his face, which was quite visible due to the front porch light.

"Both of you turn around," he ordered coldly.

Years of reading, studying, and shop talk, plus intuition told her that this wasn't a robbery. He intended to kill them! _But he doesn't want to face us--that would humanize us. Maybe…_

"You can still change your mind about this," she began, sounding much calmer than she felt.

The man's eyes widened and his teeth clenched. Almost simultaneously, Max made a pivoting turn to shield her from the reverberating shots…


	33. Chapter 33

The Greevey Residence, Bensonhurst, Brooklyn

**The Greevey Residence, Bensonhurst, Brooklyn**

Detective Sergeant Phil Ceretta parked his sedan and hurried past the small crowd of concerned neighbors to the nearest uniform. Noticing some commotion, particularly a loud female voice, near an ambulance, he made that his first business. "What's happening there?" he inquired, pointing. "Mrs. Greevey wants to ride with her husband?"

"No, no--that bus has already left, and she's following in a black-and-white," explained the cop. "That's the witness, Olivia Cragen, yelling."

"'The Cragen girl?'" Like most, if not all, veteran officers, Ceretta never forgot about the little girl from the broken home who had been lovingly taken in by a fellow cop. He also remembered the frightening abduction that briefly had every NYPD parent keeping closer surveillance of his/her children.

The uniform nodded. "She's refusing to get medical attention, though the medics think she might have been grazed and is probably in shock--but she got a good look at the guy." He took out his notebook and opened it. "One male Caucasian, approximately six feet tall, fair complexion, brown hair." Looking up, he added: "She's certain that she can pick him out of a lineup or from a mug shot, and but she needs to get check over first."

Phil nodded and thanked the man before heading over to the ambulance, where Olivia, her clothes blood-stained, was rebuffing increasingly louder attempts to reason with her. _I think it's time for me to take over. Besides, I can perform two tasks done in one swoop that way_.

"Excuse me," Ceretta interrupted loudly but politely, holding up his badge, "Detective Phil Ceretta, NYPD." Looking at Olivia in the silence that followed, he asked, "How can I help you, Ms. Cragen?"

"Detective, I saw who shot Uncle Max!" Olivia exclaimed, moving closer to him. "I know his face! I've already described him to a uniform, but I need to look at mug shots!"

"Great! We can get started right after we get you treated at the hospital," Ceretta replied appreciatively.

His words produced the desired results. Assured that her information would be pursued, Olivia cooperated with the medics. Soon, she was lying on a gurney, an I.V. line in her arm. Meanwhile, Phil spoke with other detectives on the scene. When she was loaded inside the ambulance, he climbed in to sit beside her. As they sped to the hospital, he looked at her avuncularly and said: "Your Daddy's already on the way to the hospital. The babysitter will tell your mother to call the precinct when she gets back from the movies."

Some time later, Captain Donald Cragen bolted from a blue sedan and raced into the hospital, Mike Logan at his heels. After terse directions from the admitting desk in the ER, the two men hurried to a waiting area, where a bleary-eye Detective Tony Profaci and his new bride Shirley sat beside a weeping Marie Greevey. Seeing her friends, she rose and embraced Don while reaching to clutch Mike's hand.

"He's still in surgery," she said mournfully. "They…they say they won't know until after." She moved back enough to look at them both and managed a tearful smile. "He--he saved Olivia, Don. They told me…that he shielded her--from harm."

"And he has my deepest gratitude," Cragen replied, fighting his own tears. This was the first time he had heard about Max's courageous act. He fiercely hoped that he would have the opportunity to personally thank his longtime friend.

"Wh-why don't you go see Olivia now?" Marie said. "I heard that…there's another detective with her."

"I was told that she was about to be discharged--to this area, 'as per her demand,'" Don explained, "so she should be here…"

"Daddy!" Olivia was being wheeled towards them. She was wearing light blue hospital scrubs and a bandage on her left forearm. Walking beside her was a heavyset, dark-haired male detective.

"Go to her now," Marie told Don.

_Despite her own sorrow and deepest fears, she's thinking about me and Olivia_. _Whatever happens, I'm going to tell Marge, her parents, everybody I know about her courage and compassion._ These were Don's thoughts as he hurried to embrace his daughter.

"Daddy, this is Detective Sergeant Phil Ceretta," the law student said when they finally parted. "He's going to show me mug shots tomorrow morning, after I've gotten some rest."

"You've got quite a young lady here, Captain," Ceretta said, shaking the superior officer's hand. "She gave a description at the scene, and she's even been giving me a couple of possible leads."

"It's either someone related to that construction case he's due to testify in, or maybe someone in the Talmadge case!" Olivia exclaimed. "Although it's probably the former because--Aunt Marie!"

Seconds later, the two women were embracing tearfully. "Don't worry; I'm gonna help get whoever's responsible," the law student declared. "And if there's anything else I can do…"

"Yes," Marie said gently. "Go home to your mother and especially your sister, and get some rest, please. And pray for your Uncle Max."

"I will," Olivia promised, as several other precinct wives arrived. She kissed her Aunt Marie and moved to her father, who was reading his beeper.

"That was the station," he explained. "Your mother received the message I'd left with Cathy and called. They filled her in, and she's on her way. I want you to go home with her and get to bed."

Olivia nodded. "OK, Daddy, I'll do it," she sighed. But as sincere as she was, she doubted that she was going to get much sleep that night.

The next few hours passed with a lingering dreariness. First, Marge arrived to hug her daughter in silent thankfulness before going to comfort Marie. Then, after the family's parish priest arrived, Don kissed his wife and daughter farewell, promising to return home as soon as he could. Finally, back home in Bensonhurst, they found Madison's babysitter, 15-year-old Cathy Briscoe, reassuring her own mother by phone.

"She's really worried," the girl explained as she hung up. "She's afraid someone might be picking off Brooklyn cops and/or their families, so she keeps calling. Luckily, Maddie's slept through the whole evening."

"I'll take you home now," Marge said. "Thank you for staying longer."

So Olivia went upstairs to prepare for bed. _Strange how Maddie hasn't woke once. She's usually good for at least one drink of water. Oh, well, I guess we should be thankful for every little break._

She had just put on her nightgown when a small knock sounded on her door. "Olivia?"

"Maddie?" Olivia opened the door and knelt in front of the sandy-haired girl in pale green pajamas. "Hey, Kid Sis. You want a drink now?"

The solemn-faced child shook her head. "Did something happen to Uncle Max?"


	34. Chapter 34

The Cragen Residence

**The Cragen Residence**

Olivia closed her eyes and sighed. _How am I going to do this? I wish Marmee were here; she'd know! _But since Marge wasn't there, the older sister made her best effort.

"He's…in the hospital, Maddie," she said soberly, taking the girl onto her lap.

"Why? Was he shot?" Madison inquired, concerned.

"Yes," Olivia whispered. The image of the gunman, weapon pointed at them, flashed through her mind. "But he was taken to the hospital right away."

"Oh! Then they're gonna make him all well again, right?"

_Marmee, where are you?! _"They're doing everything they can," she replied. "Why don't we ask Jesus to help him, so that he can stay with us here on Earth?"

"OK," Maddie agreed. "Heaven's a pretty place, but I want Uncle Max here, too. He can go to Heaven when he's _real_ old."

_Oh, Madison Victoria, you're a little angel yourself! _Olivia forced back her tears.

"Wait, where's Daddy?!" the child suddenly exclaimed, new fear in her eyes.

"He's at the hospital keeping Aunt Marie company," her sister replied patiently. "Now, let's bow our heads…"

Hours later, at 5:45AM, Don wearily entered his house and carefully made his way upstairs. At Olivia's room, he quietly opened the door and made out two sleeping heads on her pillow. After closing the door with care, he silently went to the lit master bedroom, where Marge was already pulling on her robe. As she hurriedly approached him, he could see that she had had as little rest as he.

They clasped tightly and clung for several long minutes before Marge whispered: "When?"

Tears streamed from his eyes. "A little after 3," he replied softly. "Father Connors was able to give him his last rites…"

**The 27 Precinct, 11:00AM**

Executive Assistant District Attorney Benjamin Stone stood near the doorway of the captain's office and watched with silent awe as he watched the young woman looking through the mugshot book. _Less than 24 hours ago she witnessed her godfather's murder while nearly getting killed herself. And yet she travels across the bridge to help find the killer. _

Stone, seeing his associate, ADA Paul Robinette, enter the bullpen, turned and crossed the room to meet him. "Did you know," he said slowly, "that Olivia Cragen is in her father's office with Detective Ceretta looking through mugshots _already?_"

Robinette raised his eyebrows and nodded, impressed. "Actually, we really shouldn't be surprised. She _is_ driven. Remember last summer?"

"The hardest working law intern I've ever seen in the Department of Investigations," Stone agreed. "And she still found time to work with homeless women!"

Just then, Cerreta stepped out of the office, looking around. "Detective Kurtz?" Then, noticing the two prosecutors, he nodded in their direction. "Gentleman."

"Phil," said Kurtz as he came from behind his desk, "she found him?"

He nodded. "She's definitely sure!"

Stone and Robinette joined Cerreta, Olivia, Kurtz, and a few other cops who had heard the exchange and entered the room. They watched as the young woman pointed to a mug shot. Turning, she looked directly at Kurtz and declared unequivocally: "He did it!"

"His name is Daniel Magadan, Jr.," Phil explained to all present. "This photo is for a recent D.U.I." Then he spoke to Kurtz. "Detective, go do what we do best."

Nodding gravely, the officer took the book and exited quickly to research the suspect. The other detectives followed, leaving Robinette, Stone, and Cerreta alone with Olivia. Her task completed, the law student sighed, relaxing visibly, and rose from her father's chair.

"I'm…ready for you take me back home, now, Detective Cerreta," she said solemnly and quietly, taking her purse out from a desk drawer.

"Actually, I'd be honored to escort you home, Olivia," he said sincerely, "but I think it's best that a black-and-white takes you home, just to be on the safe side."

**Many hours later**

Olivia was sitting at the kitchen table. Unable to sleep, she sat anxiously, her bowed head in her hands. Suddenly, she heard a knock at the back door.

_Who could that be, especially at this hour? Maybe it's Joe Briscoe, and he doesn't want to wake the whole house_. She rose and went to open the door.

Standing in front her, wide eyes boring into her, was Daniel Magadan, Jr. He cocked his gun and said through clenched teeth: "It's your turn now, you snitchin' witch!" He fired once.

Grabbing her arm, Olivia cried out as she fell backward and landed inside of a coffin. She then realized that she was wearing the pastel blue gown she chosen for her college graduation. Suddenly Marmee, Daddy, Madison, and Aunt Marie were looming above her, grief-stricken. "Good-bye, Big Sister," sobbed her little sibling. Then the lid slammed shut loudly, putting her in oblivious blackness.

Screaming, Olivia thrashed and clawed wildly as she began to fall, but the worse was coming. For she heard her biological mother's voice calling to her. "Olivia! Olivia!"

"Olivia! Olivia!" Don, having overheard his elder daughter's anguish from the hallway, hurried into her room.

"Wh-what?!" She sat abruptly, looking around fearfully. Then, becoming fully orientated, she quickly reached for the concerned father kneeling beside her bed. "I…I think I need to see Dr. Waters again," she said softly.

He kissed the young woman and replied: "Actually, I have someone else in mind."

She lifted her head from his shoulder to look at him. "Who?"

"Dr. Elizabeth Olivet. We've worked with her before, and she offered her services yesterday."

"Daddy, what's the matter with Olivia?" an anxious Maddie exclaimed as she bounded into the room. "Did she have another nightmare?"

_This wasn't the first one? _Don managed to hide his sudden uneasiness as the youngster climb onto the bed and into her sister's arms.

"Yes, I did, Maddie," Olivia replied calmly. "But today I'm going to see someone who can help me so I can get a good night's sleep again."

"You mean a doctor?"

"Yes, a special kind of doctor," the elder sister said, nodding. "Why don't we go downstairs and have breakfast?"

"OK." Maddie slid off the bed and took Don's hand. "Can we make gingerbread cookies later? Uncle Max loves Mommy's gingerbread men, and I want him to have some to eat on the way to Heaven."


	35. Chapter 35

Dr

**Dr. Elizabeth Olivet's waiting room, 10:45AM**

Mike Logan looked up from the magazine he had been trying to read. "Ready?"

Returning from her session with Dr. Olivet, Olivia nodded her head. "We can go now."

"So, how are you feeling?" Mike asked as they exited the building.

"Well, I'm _a little_ better than I was when I first arrived," she replied. "I guess every little helps. And there's something I'd like to do."

"What's that?"

"I…I'd like to see the Talmadge case through," she answered as they approached the car. "I know Uncle Max wanted to see justice done for Ms. Talmadge and little Stephan to be found."

"That's an idea," Mike said, surprised at how strongly he agreed with her. "I'll speak to your father about taking over the case." He paused as he opened the door for her. Then he added sincerely: "It will be my honor."

Sliding onto the seat, she was about to reply when her beeper chirped. Reading the message, her eyes widened as her face blanched. "They've found Magadan!"

"What?! Where is he?!" Logan demanded, glaring.

"They have him at the 2-7," Olivia replied, "and Dad wants me to come down for a line-up now!" She looked up to find that Mike was no longer standing nearby. Then abruptly the driver side door flew open, and Logan almost lunged into the car.

"Easy, easy, he'll be there whenever we arrive," Olivia cautioned as the vehicle squealed onto the road. "I can see why nobody told _you_."

_She's right--I've been hopping mad since yesterday morning! That's why the captain wanted__ me__ to drive her to the shrink's--can't go hunting for Danny Boy while I'm protecting a witness. Lucky for Magadan! Lucky for me, too--that scum isn't worth losing my badge over!_ Detective Logan forced himself to concentrate on driving safely.

**The 27****th**** Precinct, Manhatten, New York City**

Minutes later, the two hurried into the bullpen, where a number of people were waiting. Among them were the assistant district attorneys Stone and Robinette. Also present were Detective Cerreta, Detective Kurtz, and, of course, Captain Cragen. The latter quickly crossed the room to take his daughter's hands into his own.

"We can take a few minutes if you need to get ready for this," he said, paternally concerned.

But she shook her head. "I can do this, Daddy," she declared, determination on her face.

He couldn't hide a small smile of pride. "All right, Olivia," he said. Then, sobering, he said to Logan, "Mike, I want you to remain here, until my daughter finished. Then you're to escort her home. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir," the detective replied politely, despite his obvious displeasure with the orders.

Minutes later, Olivia stood in front of the one-way glass. Standing in various locations behind her were Stone, Cerreta, and a short male defense attorney. Facing them all were six lean, brown-haired men, each approximately 6 feet tall. However, the law student locked her gaze onto just one of them.

"Number two," she stated calmly and unequivocally. Hiding a chilling internal déjà vu, she added: "Number Two shot us." She touched her forearm, where the bandage was located under her blouse and jacket sleeves.

"Are you sure, Ms. Cragen?" asked Ceretta.

Turning, she nodded. "Yes, sir, I'm definitely sure," Olivia said to Phil, though she looked at the defense counsel, who pursed his lips in response.

"Thank you, Ms. Cragen," Stone said in his usual quiet, professional tone. "You may leave now. You'll be notified if you're required to testify."

Outside, in the bullpen, Olivia went to her father at once. With a look of relief and satisfaction she embraced him tightly. She was hardly aware of the applause in the room.

"You did great, honey," Don whispered to her. "Now let Mike drive you home."

"Do they have enough evidence to charge him?" Olivia asked suddenly during the ride back to Brooklyn. "I forgot to ask about the other aspects of the investigation."

"Don't worry about it," Mike replied grimly. "I managed to get a bit of information while you were inside. A couple of search warrants are pending. The judge apparently needed 'something concrete' for his signatures. Kurtz says he's '99.9 sure they'll find what their looking for."

"And what's that?" Olivia turned to look at him. "The gun?"

"Nobody would tell _me_," Mike answered, smirking. "Surprise, surprise."

Olivia paused before speaking carefully. "Mike, you just lost your partner. You're feeling emotions that--"

"And how would you know what I feel?!" The words flew out of his mouth, coming from a sudden internal tempest.

"Because I'm feeling them myself!" Her replied was so prompt and loud that he pushed on the accelerator, causing the car to jump forward. He adjusted the speed before giving her a quick look of surprise.

"First, I'm very, _very_ angry at Dan Magadan!" she continued venomously. "The cowardly monster murdered a man who was like a second father to me--while trying to kill me too! And he robbed Aunt Marie of her husband and the boys of their father! And I _know_ how painful it is to lose a parent, Mike!"

He was going to reply, but she interrupted sharply. "Second, I feel a loss--a _deep,_ _profound_ loss! He and Marie remember every birthday and holiday, and every graduation! And he was always saying that he was going to watch me try my first case as an ADA. I was looking forward to that, too, because I know--I knew he was so proud of me." She brushed a tear from her cheek. "So, yes, Mike, unfortunately I do know what you're feeling. But I'm doing something about it before it eats me alive or make me do something stupid. Uncle Max would not want that for _either_ of us.

Logan was quiet for a few minutes. Then he managed to find his voice again. "I'm sorry, Olivia. I--you're right. I…I just…I can't…"

Her hand was gentle and supportive on his shoulder. "I have an appointment with Dr. Olivet tomorrow. Maybe you should come with me again and schedule a session…?"

_Why not?? Why not?? What do I got to lose? What else am I going to do, anyway?!_ "All right, Liv--I'll do it." He sighed heavily. "Pick you up at the same time?"


	36. Chapter 36

Catholic cathedral, Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, the next morning

**Catholic cathedral, Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, the next morning**

Wearing a conservative black skirt suit with a navy blouse, Olivia was sitting in the pew near the front. Her mother, in a black dress, was beside her, holding Maddie on her lap. Clad in a dark blue sailor dress, little girl sat quietly, one gloved hand clutching her older sister's.

Looking around, Olivia found familiar faces amid the seas of blue and black. A grim-faced Lennie Briscoe sat beside his wife Ellie and their two daughters. Presently, they were joined by a solemn Kenny, who was clad in his police cadet uniform. Not surprisingly under the circumstances, he didn't notice his ex-girlfriend watching him.

She was able to find other parties known to her. Behind the Briscoes sat Brian and Karen Torricelli and their two grown sons. Detective Flynn leaned forward to whisper in the latter's ear. Sergeant Anita Van Buren sat next to him; on her other side her husband Donald put a tentative arm around her shoulders. And several pews behind Olivia were Benjamin Stone, Paul Robinette, and Mr. & Mrs. Adam Schiff.

_I'm glad the District Attorney is here. The police need to be reminded that they're not alone in this fight for justice._

Then she turned her attention towards the right front pew. Sitting beside her bleary-eyed father was Mike Logan. Olivia felt a sense of relief when she recalled her latest appointment with Dr. Olivet. Due to a cancellation, the later had been able to see Mike for an hour. Emerging, his eyes had been red, but he had seemed less tense.

"Thank you," he had said to Olivia, his eyes revealing emotion that she had never noticed before.

Despite the sorrowful occasion, Olivia had found her interest piqued. _What went on in there? Does Mike hold back that his feelings __that__ much? I've seen him with the Greevey boys and Maddie, and he's mentioned his siblings, so I know he has a heart under his armor, but he's never seemed so…wounded? Vulnerable?_

Just then, the service began. Olivia's thoughts immediately flew to back to present, and she gave Maddie a supportive kiss on the check. Looking straight ahead, she saw the black-veiled Aunt Marie sitting beside her son Max. A lump came to Olivia's throat: _ The first time I saw M.J. was at Mother's funeral._ She knew right then that she would do whatever she could to help the boys, just as Aunt Marie and Uncle Max had helped her when she first came into Marmee and Daddy's lives a near-lifetime ago.

Later, at the Greevey home, Olivia was in the kitchen preparing a plate for her little sister when the district attorney entered.

"How are you doing, Ms. Cragen?" he greeted with an extended hand.

"I'm…I'm coping," she replied, shaking his hand.

Nodding soberly, he said, "You're very fortunate to have had a man like Max Greevey in your life."

She knew he wasn't referring to his saving her. "I-I know," she replied softly with a smile. "I'll always love him."

"And that's why you want to help solve the Talmadge case," he said.

She was momentarily speechless. News certainly did travel fast among law enforcement! "Yes, sir, I do," she managed to reply after a quick pause.

"_I'd_ like to see that case closed," Schiff said, nodding. "And I hope that whatever you have accomplishes that goal. However, have you given any thoughts to what you would do if it didn't?" His eyes were concerned.

"Yes," Olivia replied slowly, "Dr. Olivet--I'm seeing her at the moment--and I discussed it." She didn't feel comfortable enough to reveal anything further.

"Good," he said, seeming relieved. "Mr. Magadan has caused enough pain as it is. Take care of yourself, young lady." He then exited the room.

Hanging her head, Olivia closed her eyes and sighed, recalling the last session she had with Dr. Olivet.

_Dr. Olivet: So you're going forward with assisting the police?_

_Olivia: Yes. It's better to try and fail than not to try at all._

_Dr. Olivet: Do you really believe that?_

_Olivia: Yes. I know it sounds cliché, but if I don't do anything I'll always wonder 'What if?' Besides, if I'm right, little Stephan could be reunited with his grandparents in a matter of weeks._

_Dr. Olivet: And if you're wrong? How will you take that emotionally?_

_Olivia: I'll be…unhappy, but I'll just keep my ears open until another tip comes up._

_Dr. Olivet: But 'another tip' may not come up, Olivia. Your father could tell you about the cold cases on file. The Talmadge case could be one of them. If so, how will you react?_

_Olivia: (after a long pause): Nothing will keep me from getting on with my life or pursuing my career goals_.

"And nothing will either," she said to herself, grabbing a plastic fork and wrapping it inside of a napkin.

"What did you say?"

Startled, Olivia turned to face Kenny, who stood in the nearby doorway holding his hat.

"I was just thinking out loud, Ken," she said as she went to embrace him. In the seconds she held him the scent of Old Spice hyper speeded her back through the most memorable parts of their relationship: their first homecoming dance, their first date in her mother's car (she had become eligible to earn her license before him), their first date using his mother's car (after he had earned his license), their junior prom, their senior prom, and the fateful night that they--

"I'm so glad you're all right, Livvie," he said as they parted.

"Thanks, Ken," she said, sighing. "But, I'm not 'all right.' I need to…take care of a few things." She reached for her sister's food.

"You mean the Talmadge case?" He gestured for her to precede him out the kitchen.

"I'm going to try to crack it, Kenny," she declared firmly as she walked into the living room quickly.

"Hey, easy does it!" he said, following her with the wrapped utensil. "I'm all for it. I mean, I wish _I_ could help you solve it."

"That's OK; Phil and I are on it," Logan, sitting next to Maddie on the couch, cut in as he took the paper plate and carefully placed it on the child's newspaper-covered lap. "In a couple of days we're going to get started." He snapped his fingers for the fork and napkin.

"So where does Livvie fit in?" Ken inquired, handing Mike the items.

"What's it to you?" Logan's voice had an edge to it.

Taking a hint, the police cadet solemnly excused himself and joined his uncle in the dining room.

"Why are you mad at Kenny, Mikey?" Maddie asked.

_Because a few days after I saw your sister buying a pregnancy test kit in Staten Island, your daddy mentioned her spending that same day at St. John's in Manhatten! _"I really want to solve this without any outside interference."

"But he's learning to be a police officer," she continued, sticking a fork into a piece of lasagna. "So he must know somethin'."

"But I'm _already_ a police officer, so I know more," Logan explained patiently.

"Oh." She began to eat her meal.

"Still, you could have been a little nicer," Olivia put in from her perch on the arm of the couch.

Sighing, Mike agreed. _It's in the past, and who knows; it could have been me at that age. _"Excuse me." He rose and went into the dining room.

Leaning over to caress her sister's ponytail affectionately, Olivia wondered: _Why do I have the feeling that there's more to that fare-up than the Talmadge case?_


	37. Chapter 37

**A Manhatten courthouse, a few days later**

As Dan Magadan, Jr., slowly rose to plead guilty, Olivia, seated beside her father, glared at the man's back. She had shot daggers at him the moment he entered the room. She had hoped that he would look towards and give her the opportunity to see her rage. But he had kept his head down, allowing the guard to guide him to his seat.

_Not so tough without your gun, are you Danny? Especially not with a room full of cops. _Those had been her thoughts.

Soon, the judging was pronouncing sentence. Magadan was to serve "life in prison with no parole." This sentence was to run consecutive with the shorter terms for the charges of attempted murder and assault with a deadly weapon. After the judge adjourned the hearing, the room erupted in applause, while Don squeezed Olivia's hand and exchanged looks of satisfaction with Marie, seated between him and Logan.

Later, as Captain Cragen drove Marie home to Brooklyn, Mike escorted Olivia back to St. John University. Her class was four hours away, so she didn't mind the slow traffic. Besides, it gave her the opportunity to speak to the solemn and silent detective.

"I think that went as well as it could," she said, turning towards him.

He grunted and replied grimly: "I'd prefer the death penalty--which we don't have.1 He's getting three hots and a cot for life."

"Yeah, some life," she answered sarcastically. "He'll be provided clothes--something along the lines of, say, grey or orange--sorry, no tweed2--with his very own number printed on them, lots of mopping, scrubbing, and license plate-making to keep him busy, and a pre-selected menu for every meal. Moreover, when it's 10PM, his father will always know where his namesake is--and why he's there."

"OK, point taken," Mike conceded.

"But I haven't gotten to the best part yet, Mikey," she soberly. "He's already under lock and key, and I'm alive and free--in spite of him." She began blinking rapidly. _Thank you, Uncle Max._

A handkerchief was passed to her by the hand that squeezed hers. She turned to see Mike looking at her with a gentle compassion. Touched, she dabbed her eyes and returned the item. "Thanks," she said.

"No, thank _you_," he replied, tucking the handkerchief back into his jacket. "You're right. You're right, Olivia. Danny Boy is the big loser here, and you scored against him good when you picked him out of the mugshots. With his prints on the gun and your identification, he had to either give up or risk a trial." He squeezed her hand again as he thought: _He also didn't want to listen to you tell the jury how he tried to eliminate you as a murder witness or how Max sacrificed himself to save you._

"Don't forget the statement from his friend at the DMV3," Olivia said, "and--hey, why are you still holding my hand?"

Mike chuckled, amused, a bit embarrassed. "I dunno," he said, smiling as he return his hand to the steering wheel. "Sorry about that."

"That's OK," she replied, smiling tentatively. "That's…OK." She was silent for a few minutes. Then she asked: "So where are we on the Talmadge case?"

Laughing lightly at her inclusion, Mike answered, "Well, right before I left to meet you all at the courthouse, we got a call from a narcotics unit in Brooklyn. They picked up 'lover boy' Paco Ruiz in a raid. He's a little out of it, so he's detoxing. But as soon as he's lucid, Phil and I are going to see if we can get the details from him."

Olivia sat in quiet thought for a few seconds before speaking. "Tell him that you'll _ask_ the D.A. to go easier on him regarding the drug charges if he tells you everything he knows about that agency--who gave him the card, where did he meet him or her, _anything!_"

"All right, all right!" Mike tried to control his mirth because he knew she was being sincere--and that her strategies were sound. "You're preaching to choir, we got it covered, _chill_."

"I just want little Stephan found," she explained quietly, looking beyond the road before them. "I want to help finish what Uncle Max began."

"You have, Olivia, you have," he gently reassured her, touching her hand briefly. You convinced Marta to come to us with information about Paco, remember? We would have never known how to clue in the narcs otherwise." As they stopped at a red light, he turned to her soberly and added: "He's smiling down at you, Olivia, 'cause he's proud."

Her eyes misty, she kissed his cheek. "Thanks, Mike," she said softly, noticing the scent of his aftershave.

"You're welcome," he replied a bit slowly, trying to decipher the emotions he felt.

1 In 1991 New York State had yet to reinstate capital punishment.

2 Mike Logan wears tweed ties.

3 An acquaintance of Daniel Magadan, Jr., had unwittingly provided the murderer with Greevey's home address.


	38. Chapter 38

**The Cragen Residence, 6PM**

Olivia had just arrived in the dining room for dinner when the phone rang.

"I'll get it, Marmee," she said to Marge, who was slicing off a chicken drumstick for Maddie.

Reaching the kitchen extension, she noted the time and hoped that it was the call she had been anticipating for several days.

"Hello, Dad?"

"Hello, Olivia, I hope you haven't been answering the phone like that _all day_!"

"No, I figured that only you--and one of those pesky survey machines--would dare call at the dinner hour!"

"**Hi Daddy!" **Maddie hollered from the dining room, earning a reproving look from Marge.

"Tell Madison hello, and not to yell like that," Don said, who nonetheless sounded slightly amused. Then, more soberly he continued: "We've located little Stephan."

For a moment she could not reply. There were a mixed emotions circulating through her: satisfaction (_Well done, everyone_), a sense of closure (_Mission_ _accomplished, Uncle Max!_), a mite of regret (_Wish you were here to celebrate_), and…what? A sense of purpose? (But how?! I've wanted to be a prosecutor since before my teens, and I still look forward to--

"Hello? Olivia?"

"Sorry, Daddy, I was just lost in the moment there," she said, slight tremble in her voice. "This is the best news I've heard in _long_ time."

"That makes two of us. Look, I have a visitor, so we're gonna have to continue this conversation later--especially if you stay up studying, young lady!"

"Daa-dee!" Then, still chuckling, "See you later."

"Later, honey."

Back at the station, Don hung up and faced the waiting Benjamin Stone, who stood in the doorway. "Sorry. Didn't see you there, Ben."

"That's OK; you're entitled to be distracted under the circumstances," the ADA replied in his usual placid manner, smiling as he entered the office. Sitting in a chair opposite Cragen, he added: "I take it you were speaking to my future successor?"

Amused and proud, Cragen nodded. "Needless to say, she's very pleased with the outcome."

"She should be; she helped to close the case," Stone said. "Remember, she convinced a key informant to come forward and literally held her hand during her interview! She _really_ has a way with people."

_A way we could use more often on the force,_ Don thought. But his mind shot back to Max's funeral, and he only nodded in agreement.

"Of course, we're not out of the woods, yet," Ben reminded, sobering. "We still have to obtain court the court order for DNA testing, and the boy's custody has to be adjudicated."

"And we still have a murder to investigate," Don added. "Although the husband is our prime person of interest, we both know that Hell hath on fury than a wife cheated on1!"

**Days later, a Brooklyn cemetery**

Laying the bouquet of pink carnations on the still-green grass, Olivia squatted in front of Max Greevey's headstone.

"Well, today in Family Court the judge gave custody of little Stephan to his grandparents," she explained. "Needless to say"--she wiped a tear from the corner of her eye--"they were ecstatic." Her voice broke with the last word, and she had to stop to collect herself.

"His father," she resumed, "didn't think he could handle raising a _baby_, so he settled for 'liberal visitation.' Meanwhile, his wife got life in prison, so she has less than everyone--including the adoptive parents. You know, I do feel sorry for them. All they wanted was a child, and they were willing to pay exuberant 'legal and administrative fees' for a chance at parenthood. That's why I promised them--at their home, hours after the hearing, please don't tell anyone2--that I would keep my ears open and let them know if--when a baby needs a good home. They didn't seem to believed me, but I _mean every word_!"

Her toes were now aching in her black boots, so she carefully sat down, clasping her hands under her bent knees to keep her skirt in place. After all, she was visiting her conservative Uncle Max! Then she continued.

"Your family is doing fine. And of course, people are still looking out for Marie and the kids. For example, Mom's taking the boys trick-or-treating with Maddie. And Shirley Profaci--Tony's wife--she's already promised to watch the boys when Marge starts school in January..."

A sudden dimming caught her attention. Olivia quickly looked overhead and saw the masses of large grey clouds moving swiftly. A chilly breeze generated leaf showers nearby. Standing up, she gave one last missive.

"Remember our last visit, when I told you about my ride home with Mike? Well, after Dad informed me about the custody decision, Mike called to congratulate me for my 'assistance.' Judging from the backgroud noise, I'd say he used a pay phone. Plus, he rather slyly--and hesitantly--me 'deserving a just reward.' So, I guess he's…interested." She gave a chuckle. "_I'm _interested enough. Not that I'm going to ask him over for Harvey's Bristol Cream3, but when/if he dares to ask his boss' daughter for a date, I'll check my schedule."

She then prepared to depart. She stood up carefully, and, remembering the Jewish rite that Kenny had told her about, picked up a little stone and placed it on top of Max's gravestone. Finally, she whispered an affectionate "Love you!" and turn to walk towards the cemetery entrance.

Just as she reached the gates, she heard a voice call: "Olivia!" Even as she moved to look, she knew who it was. Even though it had been some years since they had last seen each other, she never forgot the voice of Elliot Stabler.

1 In fact, she turned out to be the murderer.

2 Olivia is sharing a laugh with Greevey.

3 In the 1980's television ads for the beverage featured a "modern" women asking men to their homes for a drink.


	39. Chapter 39

"Elliot!" Olivia moved to hug her old friend in greeting. Then, stepping back, she took in his close-cropped hair, his still-vibrant blue eyes, and the desert-tan jacket. Otherwise, he was dressed in civilian slacks and shoes. "When'd you get back?"

"About 5 days ago," he answered. "I've been adjusting to the time zone, catching up with Kathy--we're getting married in December--"

"Really? Congratulations!" Olivia gave him another embrace. "Around Christmas?"

"Thanks! And the ceremony will be between Christmas and New Year's," he replied. "I forget the exact date; that's Kathy's territory. Main thing is: fat chance of me forgetting our anniversary!"

"And you can combine Christmas presents with anniversary gifts!" She couldn't resist the rib.

"If one more person says that joke--He interrupted himself with his own laughter, which blended in with hers.

"By the way," she inquired after they had sobered a few minutes later. "If you don't mind me asking, what brings you here?"

"My late granduncle Elliot," he replied with a solemn nod. "He served during Korea, but he died of a heart attack a year before I was born on what would have been his birthday. Before I shipped out for Desert Storm, I had a little 'talk' with him. Now, I've come back for him to 'welcome me back.'"

"I'm sure that he's proud of you, wherever he is," Olivia said. "I think that even Uncle Max is."

"Oh, you were visiting him?" Elliot raised his eyebrows.

They spent the next 15 minutes catching up. Elliot was amused by her sister's latest antics and congratulated her on the Talmadge case. Olivia laughed at Stabler's engagement anecdotes and wished him well for the Police Academy. Then, as the first drops of rain began to fall, they parted with a hasty hug.

As she dashed across the street to her car, she thought: _Why do I have the feeling that I haven't seen the last of him? Perhaps because I never do…_

**The Cragen Residence, a few days afterward**

Sitting at the desk in her room, Olivia finished the last of her hot chocolate as she reviewed her notes yet again. _I know this concept like I know the last one, which I know like the one before that, which I know like the back of my hand_. She was laughing at her private joke when she heard Marge.

"Olivia?" She opened the door after knocking. "Mike Logan is on phone?" Her face had a puzzled and curious expression.

"Really? I didn't hear it ringing," Olivia said as she rose. _No wonder I know this stuff._

Downstairs, she picked up the kitchen extension. "Hello, Mike?"

"Hi--I mean, good evening," he said, with a hint of uncharacteristic awkwardness. "If you're free this Saturday, we can take Maddie to that new toy cartoon at the movies, say around 1:30? I know she has a few of those little dolls."

"You're going to use my sister to hit on me?" Olivia could not resist the tease.

"No, no, no, nothin' like that!" He spoke so quickly, she could picture him blushing. "It's just that, I saw this ad in the paper for the cinema near my place, and they're giving away stuff for kids ten and under for every show before six. Now, it's a great deal; I took MJ last week for an action figure flick.1 He got a poster, a mini-comic, some coupons, and a free soda. So, when I say the ad, I thought about Maddie, and then I remembered that you do have a reward coming, plus I figured you could use a little light entertainment after all the studying you do, so…"

"All right," Olivia said after a pause. "I'll talk to Maddie and Marmee, and if it's all right with them, then it's all right with me. I'll call you back tomorrow afternoon."

After exchanging goodbyes, they hung up and faced their respective audiences.

"You're going to 'talk to' me about what?" Marge asked, smirking with her hands on her hips.

Back at the station, Phil warned in a confidential tone, "Whatever you do, keep the bambino in plain sight."

"Hey, I'm not letting anything happen to her," Mike replied, surprised at the remark.

"Oh, I'm not worried about _her_," the senior detective said jocularly, "I'm worried about _you_." He jerked his towards Cragen's door.

1 During the 1980's a number of cartoons were based on popular children's toys, such as He-Man, G. I. Joe, and Rainbow Brite, which are all registered trademarks that I do not own.


	40. Chapter 40

"What are you still doing up?" Don asked Marge as he leaned down to kiss her.

"Our daughter is about to go on a rather interesting date---"she began.

"Wait," Cragen said, grimacing. "Let me get comfortable first." _Especially since I think I know who it is._

She waited until he had changed into his pajamas and slid under the covers, turning on one side to face her. Then she began. "First of all, it's _not_ Trevor Langon."

"Good," her husband interjected, relieved.

"It's Mike Logan."

For a long moment, Cragen was unable to speak. Then he said, frowning: "What?!"

Just then, a small knock sounded on the closed bedroom door. "Come in, Maddie," called Don, welcoming a short break from his current 'crisis.'

Bursting in, the girl hurried to the bed, jumped on, and crawled forward until she was lying between her parents. "Daddy, I just woke up and want some water, and guess what?!"

"Not so loud, honey, you're going to wake up your sister," her father admonished gently. _Not that I wouldn't mind speaking to her right now._

"She and Mikey are gonna to take me to the movies this weekend," she continued in hushed excitement. "I'm gonna get popcorn and free prizes and candy."

"Who said anything about _candy,_ little lady?" Marge said.

"Well, _maybe_ I was thinkin' about asking for some candy and maybe he might have gotten me some if you said yes before we left, but I'm still gonna have popcorn and prizes," she amended.

Don nodded, gently smiling at the anticipant child. "Yes, you will," he said lightly. "Come on; let's get your drink and then tuck you back in."

**27****th**** Precinct, the next morning**

Mike Logan hurried into the bullpen, cursing himself for being 15 minutes late---and without breakfast. Managing a quick "Good morning" to his partner, he quickly moved to fill his mug with java and snatch up a donut. Thus, he did not realize that Phil was looking at him with grave indecisiveness while others were exchanging looks.

"Logan, may I see you now, please?" Cragen's tone was light and polite, his face impassive.

_Let's see: I'm late, I have donut in my mouth and a mug of java in my hand, and I just asked his daughter for a date, and __he's__ acting like there's nothing wrong--_**-I'm in trouble!**

Sitting opposite the younger man, the captain got to the point immediately. "You ask my daughter for a date while sitting yards away from me---"

"Captain, look, I---"

"Don't interrupt me, Detective," Cragen said sharply. "You realize that you're risking a lot, don't you?!"

Sighing, Logan decided that transparency was called for. "Yes, sir," he replied respectfully. "I know that if I sleep with Olivia and discard her like yesterday's garbage, I'm going to Staten Island---in uniform."

"And while that's true, it's not the main point," the captain said. Pointing a finger, he continued: "You didn't say a word _before_ or _after_ she accepted, and that's a severe breach of etiquette, mister---especially since your reputation proceeds you." He paused, waiting for Mike's response.

Sighing, Logan bowed his head briefly for speaking. "You're right, Captain," he said politely. "I should have been straight with you from the beginning. And I don't have any special agenda---well, except for dating your daughter, _if_ she wants me."

Seeing Don's eyebrows rise at the last clause, Mike thought quickly: _Nice going, gotta fix that fast---_

"You know, I've really gotten to know Olivia in a new way since---since we lost Max. She's strong, compassionate, and resilient. There's also my side of things."

Cragen softened somewhat. "And just what is your 'side of things, Mike?'"

"Don, I…you know I don't easily share my feelings, sometimes not even with myself. But, after Max…she helped me to open up. And that's never happened in any of my relationships." His manner was sober and straightforward.

Nodding understandingly, the captain said, "Fine. Enjoy the movie and any entertainment that follows---if there is a next time. And don't be so close-mouthed about it, am I clear?"

Smiling slightly, Mike said, "As clear as crystal, Don."

They parted after a handshake, and Mike returned to his desk. There he took a sip of coffee and began reviewing a file on his desk. He chose to ignore the curious glances around him.

"So, are we going to mind our p's and q's?" Phil asked lightly.

"Yeah, and I'm going to do all the right things, too," the younger man responded in equal humor.

Lowering his voice, the sergeant added: "Remember what I said about the little girl."

On Saturday the date went well. Maddie enjoyed the freebies as well as the popcorn Mike generously purchased. Meanwhile, Olivia was impressed with the man's interaction with her sister. He was patient and jocular without succumbing to the girl's beguiling pleas for candy.

As for Mike, he took pleasure in the outing. Maddie's childish innocence and enthusiasm further heightened his light mood. Furthermore, he liked Olivia's playful banter. So, as they eventually exited the theater, he came to a decision.

"What do you think of lunch with me tomorrow?" he asked the law student, placing a guiding hand on Maddie's shoulder.

"Sure! Are we gonna have pizza?" the child responded.

Olivia laughed so hard that she could only nod her reply.


	41. Chapter 41

**From Olivia's journal, mid-December 1991**

_Grandpa is still weak from his recent heart attack, and Uncle Theo and his family are still cloistering themselves__1__, so we are going to spend the holidays in Manhasset. Dad has to return to work the day after Christmas, but Marmee, Maddie, and I will be staying on longer. Then I'll return home a day ahead of them to attend Elliot's wedding, with Mike. So I will actually meet Kathy the Cookie Baker. _

_As for Mike and I, we're moving along nicely. Sure, we have much in common (cop fathers, alcoholic mothers, devotion to our vocations, and a desire for justice), but we also complement each other. Like sometimes I'm his sounding board and support after a difficult case. And he does the same for me after __I've__ handled a rough one at the shelter. But we also share a lot of good times, too. Some of the best have been when we do things with the Greevey boys or Maddie---Mike's gentle side never fails to warm me, and when he's playful, he's...well, as they say, what's there not to like? I can't wait to introduce him to Elliot. Maybe once he gets through the academy, leaving his father's corrupted shadow behind, we can all be friends._

**Midtown Manhatten, early afternoon**

Phil and Mike, having successfully questioned a reluctant bar owner, left the latter's establishment to make their back to their blue sedan. As they neared the car, the younger detective quickly moved around to enter the driver's side. That's when he noticed the side vender across the street.

"Look at all those stuffed animals, Phil," he said, pointing.

"Just in time for the holidays," Ceretta acknowledged, nodding.

"If I didn't know that they're probably overpriced knock-offs, I'd get one for Maddie," Logan said before opening his door.

Laughing as he entered the vehicle, his partner asked: "Who are you _really_ gettin' it for: her, her sister or their daddy?"

"Aw, you know I don't have to doing any p. r.2 with the captain," Mike chuckled back as he slid behind the wheel. "It's been what, a couple of months since we've been dating?" He closed his door.

"A very nice couple of months, if I do say so myself." Phil buckled up.

"What's that's supposed to mean?" Logan inquired, peering briefly into the review mirror.

"It means I haven't had to coax you away from a smart-alec suspect in weeks, it means that there's an extra spring to your step, it means that you get beeper messages that give your face that warm and fuzzy look…"

"All right, all right, I get it!" Mike playfully nudged the older man with his elbow. "It's good, it's real good between me and Olivia---and her family," he added somewhat more soberly.

"Speaking of family," Phil said, "I think it's time you met mine, partner. You like homemade lasagna?"

**Christmas Day, the Hamilton residence, Manhasset, Long Island, New York**

The yuletide meal completed, the dishes were cleared, and everyone performed various holiday rituals. Mr. Hamilton, Don, and Maddie went to the decorated den to play her new Chutes 'N Ladders game. Meanwhile, the women attended to the dishes, as the matriarch did not trust her best dinnerware to the dishwasher.

"I'm glad Maddie is here," Mrs. Hamilton said, twisting a sponge in a wineglass. "She's always made her grandfather's spirits pick up, but now that he's ill, and Theo refuses to come with Nessie and the children…" She sighed and shook her head painfully.

Marge put a hand on the older woman's shoulder. "When he gets over his feelings of guilt and shame, he'll come around."

"I hope he _does_ recover soon," Mrs. Hamilton sighed, "because it's just been so hard on all of them. With his forced resignation, they've had to make many financial sacrifices and might have to sell the house." She turned to face her granddaughter. "Darling, I _hope_ your uncle's situation isn't going to affect _your_ future."

"Oh, no," Olivia reassured her, shaking her head. "If the charges were dropped without a deal, there would have been talk. But since he and his lawyer negotiated a plea and aided the prosecution, it's OK." _Well, not really. I'm still disappointed, and I really for bad for Aunt Nessie, Andrew, and Johnny. But nobody, including Elizabeth, holds it against me_.

"How does that policeman that you're dating feel?" her grandmother inquired, once again turning her attention to the dishes.

"And then what did you say?" Mike asked en route to the wedding several days latter.

"I told her the truth---that you were sorry for me,and reassured me that Uncle Theo changed nothing between us," Olivia replied.

"And?"

"And then she changed the subject, as usual," she answered more quietly.

"Proving once again that she doesn't approve of her granddaughter dating a 'policeman,' he said, sighing. _I wonder how Don copes with that lady._

"She wouldn't approve of a_nyone_," Olivia said, laying a supportive hand on his leg.

Mike smiled, though he reminded, "She approved of Kenny."

"Well, he did help find me."

"True," Mike admitted, squeezing her hand. "I guess we both owe him one for that."

"That we do," she agreed, nodding. "Maybe we'll invite him to _our_ wedding."

"What?!" Mike turned his head towards her briefly, surprised and amused.

Laughing, she replied: "I said '_maybe!_'"

_Why?_ They both thought despite their mirth.

_Author's note: Chutes 'N Ladders is a registered trademark. _

1 At one point on _Law & Order_, Cragen mentioned a brother-in-law who was serving 3 to 5 years for insider trading. Since the captain did not give more specific information, I have designated Theodore Hamilton as the offending relative-by-marriage. However, I've changed a major detail as you will read.

2 He means public relations.


	42. Chapter 42

**Outside of Our Lady of The Snows Parish, Glen Oaks, Queens**

At the receiving line after the ceremony, Olivia gave Elliot a congratulatory hug.

"Congrats, Elliot!" she exclaimed, adding, "So this is Kathy with the cookies!"

"She remembers my letter!" the groom laughed to the bride. "What a memory! But speaking of memory, I've lost mine, or I would have remembered my manners! Katherine Maynard Stabler, this is Olivia Cragen, daughter of Dad's former captain. Olivia, this is my loving new wife, Kathy."

As the women exchanged greetings, Elliot silently appraised Logan. _Tall, dark-haired, physically fit, blue eyes._

"Elliot, Kathy, I'd like you to meet Detective Mike Logan," Olivia introduced.

_And__ he's an Irish cop? I guess I was her type after all._ "Good to meet you, Detective," Stabler said amiably, shaking hands. "Maybe I'll get to work with you someday."

"Then it really _will_ be a small world," Mike replied lightly, "I already work with her dad!"

"Nice meeting you, Detective!" Elliot laughed, mindful of the other guests. "Olivia, please give your parents and your little sister our best."

When they had moved through the receiving line and taken their seats at the appropriate table, Mike remarked: "Look, there's a candy bar at place setting."

"They first met treat-or-treating," Olivia explained. "Elliot saved her sister's bag from a snatcher ten years ago."

"Whoa, he was off on the career track back then!" Mike laughed. "Ten years ago _I_ was driving a cab to get through college!"

"And I bet _your_ girlfriend didn't make _you_ cookies," Olivia said with equal humor, "like Kathy did for him then!"

Shortly thereafter, Olivia scanned the bride's table and spotted familiar faces. Rosie Stabler was now a very young teenager. Turning towards her brother, the girl something that broke up the entire table.

_She always could amuse people._

Olivia then noted Jim Stabler. Despite his humor, his appearance suggested significant stress. His gray-flecked blond hair was thinning, the blue eyes were baggy, and his complexion haggard.

_I know that for a cop, getting kicked from the force can really hurt. If that's happening to Mr. Stabler, I'm glad my father never experienced it._

A few minutes later, while Kathy was in the powder room, Jim remarked admiringly: "Olivia's hooked herself one eligible bachelor."

"Why do you say that?" Elliot asked.

"I didn't want to hold things up at the receiving line," explained his father, "but I've met his old man on the force. If he has half of his dad's stuff in him, he's got a bright future ahead. Toss the garter at him, Elliot."

_Why are you still giving me orders?! _But he only answered: "Yes, sir."

"Olivia deserves happiness," Jim continued, "because she _has_ been through some rough events in her young life." (_Elliot: You won't ever let me forget, huh, Dad__1__?_) Besides, you told me that she's going to be an ADA, so _they'd_ make a heck of a power couple!"

_But Kathy and I don't. That is what you're saying, isn't Dad? _Again, Elliot kept his thoughts to himself. _Just get through the reception, El, and then you'll be free forever. First, the three-day honeymoon in Point Pleasant__2__, and then our own cozy little apartment here in Queens! And, later, if things go right, our own---_

"I'm gonna go say hello," Jim was saying as he rose.

_Why do I feel like I'm being upstaged at my own wedding? _Elliot thought, stirring his drink.

His feelings were obviously apparent because his father-in-law said: "Let him have his fun, Elliot. This is the most lively I've seen your dad in years."

_He's right. Dad's been dying a slow death since he got kicked from the force, and despite everything, I don't hate him. I just wish that he could be more proud of me. _Elliot nodded and stood to seat Kathy as she returned to the table.

After several hours of dining, toasts, and chatter, it was time for the tossing of the bouquet and garter. Although Kathy threw her flowers at Rosie, the teen somehow fumbled the catch, causing Olivia to become the recipient. Thus Elliot found it easier to comply with his father's wishes.

**The Cragen Residence, 6PM**

Having changed into casual blue slacks and a green fleece shirt and white socks, Olivia returned downstairs to the living room. There Mike, having shed his tie, jacket, and vest, waited good-naturedly, devouring the last of a candy cane. As she approached, he held out his arms.

After a long kiss, he said: "I'd like to see your grandmother's face when she learns about…about…" Mike could not finish; he was overcome by laughter.

"It's just superstition, Mike," she reminded playfully, still feeling a thrill nonetheless.

"Still, Phil is gonna have something to say about this," he said.

"So will Elizabeth," Olivia added.

"You tell Donnelly about us?!" Mike was surprised.

"She's more than just a mentor, and as a senior prosecutor she gives…some personal guidance to others," she explained patiently.

"And?" Mike's voice had an edge.

"And she feels that though things have changed, marriage so early in my career could send the wrong message," Olivia answered, not pleased with his curtness. "That's why she chose to remain single3 when she started out."

"So what does she think about you marrying _a cop?_" he almost demanded.

When she stepped back out of his embrace, Mike regretted his hard words. Softening, he attempted to make amends. "Olivia, I---"

Suddenly, the phone interrupted noisily. As Olivia hurried into the kitchen, Mike sighed and rubbed his eyes. _Please don't let it be the captain._

Seconds later, she raced back into the living room, her face troubled. "Mike, we've got to get back to Manhasset!"

1 Elliot (and Jim) is referring to Olivia's kidnapping. Jim blamed his son for not deducing that a hastily departing vehicle contained Olivia.

2 Point Pleasant Beach, New Jersey, is a shore town in Ocean County. Though the beaches are closed during the winter, the boardwalk still has some amusement arcades, and there are decent area restaurants that are open. And, of course, there are hotel accommodations.

3 Although I have recently learned that Elizabeth Donnelly is apparently married, I'm continuing to write under the premise that she is single. It is, after all, an alternative universe.


	43. Chapter 43

**From Don Cragen's recovery journal**

_A few hours ago I was sitting behind my desk at work, wondering for the umpteenth time why so many men keep risking their marriages, careers, and reputations for sex and money when I receive a sad but not unexpected phone call from Marge. Now I'm lying in bed in my in-laws' home with her and our little girl beside me as memories fly through my mind._

_At our wedding, while his wife sat stiffly in the pew behind him, his eyes were full of solemn trust when he placed his only daughter's hand in mine._

_When he handed her the gift, calling her granddaughter---he took her into his heart right away, he eased my fears about Olivia's acceptance into the family. I have no doubt that he was behind his wife's about face later that evening._

_And I'll never forget the misty look on his face when he first held baby Maddie in his arms. I almost cried myself then._

_I'm almost crying now._

_One positive point: Mike Logan accompanied Olivia here. From the minute they arrived, he's been a real help, especially with Theo so deep in his abject grief. _

While her father made his sorrowed entry, Olivia left her restlessly sleeping grandmother to speak to Mike downstairs. She found him in the den, standing by the teacart, cup and saucer in hand.

Setting down the chinaware as she approached, he concernedly asked: "How's your grandmother?"

"She finally went to sleep," Olivia replied, moving into his supportive embrace.

"Want some coffee?"

"No, thanks, I really need to get some sleep now," she replied, sighing. "There's still a lot to be done, and with Uncle Theo so…so depressed…" She paused and shook her head sadly. "I could hardly believe Marmee when she told me how he didn't stick around after driving Grandma from the hospital."

"When these---I mean, whenever a person of means, like your uncle, has a reversal of fortune, it takes them for a real nosedive," Mike explained sympathetically.

"Especially when the person has a hand in making his troubles," she said, wearily moving out of his arms.

"I didn't say that." His tone was gentle as he followed her to a Roy Hill couch.

"No, _I_ did." She sat down and made room for him. "But I still love him," she added softly.

Settling beside her, he put an arm around her and felt her lean against him. For a few minutes there was pensive silence. Finally, he said: "What's your uncle's address?"

**The Theodore Hamilton Residence, 7AM the next day**

"Theo?" Mike said as he entered the latter's home office, closing the door behind him. "I'm really sorry about your loss."

Clad in a dark burgundy robe and sitting at his desk with his back to the door, Theo made no physical attempt to acknowledge his guest. "I told my wife that I don't want to be disturbed." He spoke in a monotone, and his gray-flecked head rested in his hands.

"You're hurting; I understand," the detective answered sympathetically. But he remained in the room.

There was a tense pause, and then: "Did my mother send you, or my sister?"

"Neither," Mike replied, moving to stand directly behind the dejected man. "Marge is trying to keep it together for herself, Maddie, and your mother---who's in no condition to do _anything_."

Now Theo slowly turned around to face his visitor. "What do you mean?" he asked with concern.

His face compassionate, Mike explained, "She's hurting _bad_, Theo. She needs you, and I don't mean to arrange things. Don and I are handling that. But we can't be _you_. We can't be the son she _really_ needs after the loss of her husband. She already has one void---please don't give her another."

Theo sat quietly for a minute, wrestling with concern and guilt. Then he asked Mike, "What does she say about…me? And please, be honest."

"She misses you a heck of a lot," the detective answered. "In fact, according to Olivia, she just wants you to stop beating yourself up and rejoin the family."

Theo slowly rose to his feet, saying nonetheless, "There are going to be a lot people at the home, the viewing and service. They all know the charges and the deal. Most of them haven't called or anything since."

"Forget about 'em," Mike advised. "This is about you, your family, and your father. And anyone with common decency will know this."

**A Manhasset Cathedral**

In a front pew the survivors of Douglas Joseph Hamilton sat solemnly. His widow, Meredith, sat between their son Theo, whose wife elected to remain home with their young sons, and their daughter Marge. Son-in-law Don sat clasping his wife's hand and occasionally pecking her hair supportively. Meanwhile, Olivia sat beside him, Mike's arm around her shoulders and Madison on her lap.

"Olivia, why is everyone gone?" Maddie tearfully whispered.

Her heart cracking, Olivia replied softly: "Everyone isn't gone, Little Sis. Grandma is still here, and so are Daddy, Marmee, me, and Mike." She then felt the detective gently squeeze her free hand.

"And remember, honey, he's with God, the angels, and Uncle Max now," Don quietly added.

Nodding, the child slid from her sister's lap onto her father's, seeking the assurance and comfort that could only comes from loving parental arms.

Later, as the limousine followed the hearse to the cemetery---as per Douglas' wishes---Olivia closed her eyes and relived her favorite moments with her grandfather. _The day he gave me the locket I'm wearing now… my first Christmas Eve as a Cragen, when he read the Christmas story to me at bedtime---"like I did with your Marmee," he said… presenting me with my first luggage… dancing together at my 16__th__ birthday party at the Country Club… all of that fudge we bought and couldn't stop eating in Niagara Falls… congratulating me over the phone after the Talmadge case settled---_

All too soon the car halted. Sighing, Olivia exited the vehicle with her bereaved family. Minutes later, one arm around her mother and the other around the supportive Mike, she silently bid her grandfather a final farewell.


	44. Chapter 44

The morning after the Hamilton funeral, Mike drove straight from Manhasset to testify at an evidence hearing. After hastily arriving in the Manhatten courtroom, he was effective under direct examination and easily held his ground against the defense attorney.

"Nice work, Detectives," said Stone minutes after the judge had ruled against the defendant, "though for a minute I was afraid one of you wasn't going to make it."

"Alls well that ends well," Mike remarked casually. Then more soberly, "I wish everything was."

"Is Olivia taking her grandfather's death hard?" Phil asked, concerned.

Sighing, Mike replied, "Well, being Olivia, she's not falling apart, but she's still grieving. I know how much her grandfather meant to her. She says he loved her from the start, and he had promised to come and watch her try her first case."

"Well, now he'll watch from the best seat in the house," Ceretta said respectfully.

**The Hamilton Residence, Manhasset, Long Island, New York**

Meanwhile, Douglas's survivors managed various issues. In the den Olivia called the family attorney and arranged for the reading of the will. Maddie lay on the floor nearby coloring. Meanwhile, Meredith, with Theo's assistance, busied herself with various business matters, including her husband's insurance papers, investment portfolio, memberships and subscriptions. Marge, as per her mother's request, went through her father's wardrobe, separating items for donation from items for disposal. And Nessie had a significant conversation with Don in the kitchen.

"Since the insider trading case, Theo has been in a state of self-pity," the brunette stated concisely, stirring her coffee. "I've been handling the finances, including the sale of our boat, the canceling of our periodicals, club memberships, and credit cards. And _I've_ been counseling the boys through everything---their father's arrest, declining invitations and visitors, and fewer Christmas presents." Her eyes misted up at this point. "Their father just can't…"

"Mike gave him a pep talk," Don said sympathetically, laying a hand on her Velour shoulder. "And he's been coming out of his shell ever since; you can see that now. He just needed time---"

"Time's running out," she interrupted crisply. "We can't live on our savings much longer, our friends have deserted us, and I can't take all the stress alone! So, tell me, Don: where's a decent and less expensive place to relocate to, somewhere away from Long Island?"

**Early afternoon, the Hamilton study**

"Thank you, Elaine," Marge said into the telephone. "I really appreciate this."

"Anytime, Marge," replied the sergeant's wife, "it's what we're all here for: each other."

Meanwhile, in one of the guest rooms, Maddie, distressed, asked: "Why are we leaving?"

Olivia, closing her suitcase, answered patiently, "Don't you remember what Daddy said?"

"Yes, he said we had to go because they were gonna be busy, but…" The girl let her sentence trail off and climbed on the bed to curl up with her back to her older sister.

After moving the suitcase to the floor, Olivia reclined beside her sister, lying on her side and holding the child close. "What's bothering you, Sweetie?"

"When you went away before, Grandpa died. Is Grandma---"Her face crumpled.

"No, no, of course not!" Olivia gently and urgently soothed. She sat up carefully, taking the girl into an embrace against her shoulder. She kissed the child and murmured "Grandpa was not well, honey. Remember when he said that his heart was sick and that was why he had to go to the hospital?"

Feeling Maddie's nod, she continued, "His heart was too weak when it became sick again. Now, there's nothing wrong with Grandma, except that she misses Grandpa and needs to figure out what she's going to do from now on. And like Daddy said, that's a lot of grown-up work."

"So why can't _you_ stay?" the little girl asked, looking up.

"You can't go home alone, Little Sis," Olivia replied, receiving a small smile. "Plus, I have to give Mrs. Ceretta Marmee's next party list."

"Why?"

"Our mother's going to too busy to plan a surprise baby shower, so Mrs. Ceretta's going to do it." Olivia was glad that Maddie was showing interest in something else and reached for a tissue from the box on the night stand.

"So, it's just going to be us?" She began wiping her face.

"Yes, for a few days." Olivia kissed her sister and rose to finish packing. "Then Daddy's going to join us, and then Marmee."

"Can any friends come over?"

"If you ask first, Sweetie."

**The Cragen Residence, 10PM**

"Mike, come in!" Olivia readily admitted the young man. Then, after closing and securing the door, she moved into his strong embrace and deep, loving kiss.

"How are things?" he gently asked as they parted.

She paused before replying softly, "I'll be all right."

"How about your folks and the little lady?"

"Everyone's doing as well as expected." She moved in for another comforting kiss.

"How's your uncle?" he murmured, his lips still close to hers.

Olivia frowned slightly. "_He's_ still out of his shell, but Aunt Nessie---she came over today---seems a bit preoccupied, and they don't really speak---"

"Olivia?! Who's there?" Maddie scampered down the stairs.

"Who does it look like?" Mike picked the girl up as she ran to him

After a tight hug, Madison turned to her sister and inquired: "Did you ask first?"


	45. Chapter 45

**A Manhatten courtroom, 3 1/2 years later**

Assistant District Attorney Olivia Cragen moved slowly forward towards the witness, a young woman just barely out of her teens_. I have to do this nice and easy. Heck, I might as well; she's a victim, too---and she's about to find out---_

"Ms. Osgood, you just testified that the defendant was with you on the night in question," she began casually, her face serious.

"Yes, he was," the willowy brunette replied firmly, nodding unequivocally.

"And you're basing this testimony on fact?"

"Yes!"

"And he didn't persuade you to cover for him?"

Trevor Langon opened his mouth, but the witness spoke before he could object. "He's a decent man; he doesn't need anyone 'cover for him!' I'm just giving you the truth!"

"And isn't it also 'the truth' that he's responsible for your trip to Mt. Sinai Hospital's emergency room two months ago?" Olivia looked directly into her eyes.

"Wha---no! No!" Osgood rapidly went from fervent to upset to nervously tense.

"Objection, Your Honor!" Now Langon was on his feet.

"Goes to credibility!" Olivia was swift with her response.

"Overruled," Judge Bevis stated firmly. "You may continue, counselor."

"Thank you, Your Honor." She retrieved a folder from the prosecutorial table and approached the shaken Osgood. "This is a copy of the EMT's report, marked Exhibit C." She looked to the judge, who admitted it into evidence.

"Now," Olivia said firmly and gently, standing where to obstruct the witness' view of the now red-faced accused, "according to the medics you flagged in the street---"

"I _told_ them I was _mugged!_" A mascara-stained trailed down her face.

"You were one block from his apartment," Olivia continued.

"I-I was on my way to see him!" Her right hand gripped her left forearm.

"In your slip?"

"It…he thinks of it as an evening gown---a short evening gown," she managed, fidgeting.

"So you wore it as evening wear?" Olivia's tone was casual.

"Yes," Osgood replied, sounding a little stronger.

"Why weren't you wearing any shoes?"

As the witness brokenly attempted an explanation, Captain Donald Cragen watched the proceedings from the rear. Although he had a busy schedule as head of an anticorruption task force, it wasn't every day that an ADA had the lead chair in a case for the first time. Besides, having missed out on her first words, her first steps, and her first day of school, he felt that he was entitled to something.

_Judging from the looks of things, Olivia's going to win her first big one! Hopefully, I'll be here for the verdict. And I know __you'll__ be here, Max, along with Mr. Hamilton._

After the prosecution and the defense rested, Judge Bevis adjourned the proceedings until Monday morning. Then Olivia began packing her notepad and folders. Her partner, Alexandra Cabot, stood beside her, smiling professionally.

"Good job, Olivia," she congratulated. "Liz was right about letting you lead this on this one."

"Thanks," the other counselor replied, closing her attaché. "I just hope I didn't do _too_ good a job. Did you see how Walker looked at her as she left the stand?"

"She saw him, too," Cragen reminded as he approached, "and she knows what he's capable of." He paused as he and Olivia lightly embraced and exchanged kisses. "Hello, Counselor."

"Please, call me Alex," she said, shaking hands. "We _have_ been working together for 6 months."

"Very well, Alex," he agreed amiably. Then more soberly, "As I was saying, Ms. Osgood is more than aware of Walker's abusive nature. There's a fair chance that she'll walk away from him now."

"And there's also a fair chance I'll be receiving a phone call to come down to an emergency room tonight," his daughter replied, thinking about the other battered women she had interacted with over the past several years.

But when her cell phone rang hours later, as she shared a late snack with Mike, it took her to the most horrific situation since her mother Serena's death.


	46. Chapter 46

**A hospital in Port Richmond, Staten Island, New York, 11:45PM**

After receiving directions from the emergency admitting nurse, Olivia and Mike hurried to appropriate waiting area. There, a tall, stocky patrolman stood talking to a young, dark-haired male detective. Even before he turned around, she recognized Ken Briscoe.

"Hello, Olivia," he greeted solemnly. "This is Officer Breslin. He and his partner were flagged down by your aunt---"

"So you're the outcry witnesses," she broke in, already in ADA mode. Then, looking around, she asked: "Where's Uncle Theo? He should be here."

"My partner has him downstairs getting coffee," explained Ken.

"I take it he got too upset," Mike said.

"More like not upset enough," the detective corrected.

"What do you mean?" Olivia frowned. "What are you getting at?"

"Look, one thing at a time, Liv," young Briscoe said, lifting his hand in a "calm down" gesture. "I know this isn't easy for you by a long shot, but your aunt needs your help. I was able to get her statement, but she won't let anyone touch her, at least not until she sees you."

"Right now my partner's hand-holding her," Breslin said. "Apparently he's an old friend of yours: Elliot Stabler."

"Elliot?!" _This __is__ a small world! _

"She doesn't want to be left without at least one of us around," explained Breslin. "And since he knows a little something about her, he volunteered to stay with her."

"But she really needs you to go in and convince her to get the exam," Ken said urgently. "I already have her statement, but without evidence we'll never catch the guy---plus she needs medical attention---"

"Yes, of course." Olivia moved to enter the treatment room.

"Wait a minute!" Ken held up his hand again. "She has some facial injuries, so…"

"I understand," she said briskly before departing.

With his lady gone, Mike moved closer to Ken and said quietly, "Exactly what did you mean by 'not upset enough'? Some guys manage to hold it together."

"I know, I know," Kenny responded. "It's just that when I asked him if anyone would want to hurt his wife, he paused with this look on his face, like he's debating something, but then he said quickly and quietly 'No!' I started asking if he was sure, and he interrupted me with another cold denial and quickly excused himself to make a phone call." Beside him, Breslin nodded in confirmation.

Suppressing an internal tinge of skepticism, Mike defended, "He gave it some thought and dismissed it unequivocally. And he's got two boys---he was obviously calling the sitter."

"But then there's the wife's story," Breslin put in.

"What did _Nessie _tell you?" Mike put his hands on his hips.

Meeting the younger man's gaze, the patrolman countered, "_Ms. Hamilton_ said, for starters, that she was attacked after she left a coffee bar…"

"Wait, are you sure she said _coffee bar?_ The guy on the news targets tavern patrons." Mike began to feel uneasy.

As Breslin nodded, Briscoe quickly added, "Plus, her description leaves out a few details that were withheld from the media."

Meanwhile, inside the treatment room, Olivia found it difficult to maintain a calm façade despite the warning. Clad in a robe and hospital gown, red-eyed Nessie was sitting up on the exam table, her cheeks puffy and redden. Her left eye was discolored, and a trail of congealed blood ran from one nostril to her cut upper lip. She was clutching the hand of Elliot, who nodded grimly in greeting. Otherwise, he remained compassionately professional.

"Oh, Olivia, I'm so glad you're here!" the battered woman exclaimed, her voice shrill. Releasing Elliot, she gripped her approaching niece's biceps. "I-I don't know how I could get through this without you!"

"It's OK, Aunt Nessie, I'm here," Olivia soothed gently, recalling her own fear and discomfort during her precautionary exam after her kidnapping years ago. "I'm going to stay with you as long as you need me. And we _will_ get through this, together."

**65 minutes later**

As her aunt scrubbed (as best she could) under a hot shower, Olivia received an uneasy phone call from Mike.

"Look, I-I tried to convince him to do otherwise, but your uncle decided to go home," he said slowly. "He says he wants to break it to the boys when they wake up, but…"

_What?! Are things that bad between them?!_ But she only said quietly, "It's just as well. Aunt Nessie wants me to take her to 'my' place for the time being---doesn't want the boys to see her like this."

**Midtown Manhatten, near 42****nd**** Street**

Now Olivia was truly thankful that she had taken an "apartment sitting" assignment for the summer. Located on the 3rd floor of a brick building with a doorman and awning, her abode gave an aura of security that was much needed. Also, since the second bed was dressed for Maddie's future visits, her aunt was able to retire almost immediately. While Nessie slept, her overstressed niece sought release and comfort from Mike in the master bedroom.

Their impromptu consummation was less than idea.

_I've just given a deep part of myself to Mike_, she thought afterwards, _and nothing has changed! My once-vivacious aunt sleeps violated, abused, and estranged from her husband, her attacker is free on the streets, and all of this is going to hit the rest of the family like a ton of bricks! I've __got__ to do __whatever I can__ to get this __monster__ behind bars for a long time! What happened tonight can wait---it has too!_

Especially since she had no strength left to deal with it.

As she settled closer to him for a much-needed sleep, Mike, staring unseeingly upwards, contemplated his own situation. _I love her, she loves me. So why do I feel like a scratching post? Maybe it's my bad karma for, to paraphrase Max, all the times I brought home things I found in the street and sent on their little merrily ways afterwards. No, no, I can't think that! Tomorrow I'll suggest that we put this behind us and concentrate on helping Nessie and Theo. Of course, if---when we do, Olivia is definitely __not__ going to like what I've uncovered!_

Sighing, Mike turned on his side and gently laid his arm across his lady. _Maybe it's all just as well. Perhaps our relationship needs this test because if we can get through this intact, then…_

Smiling momentarily, Logan began to drift off.


	47. Chapter 47

**Manhatten, Saturday, 7PM**

While Nessie slept fitfully, Olivia conferred quietly with Mike over a toaster waffle breakfast.

"OK, what did Kenny tell you last night?" she almost demanded.

_Well, here goes. _Mike sighed as he set down his mug. "Nessie was raped, but not the way she told."

"What do you mean?!" Olivia could hardly keep her voice low.

"For starters, the M.O. was wrong for that Staten Island serial rapist," he replied. "She was attacked leaving a _coffee bar_, not a liquor establishment."

She considered this. "He could be altering his style."

"And your aunt didn't include a few things not made public," Mike continued carefully. "Like, for instance, he has a ring in his navel that he forces the vics to kiss before he---"

"Then it was a copycat." She was unwavering in her conviction.

Logan reached across the table to gently take her other hand. "Liv, there's something…"

"Excuse me, Olivia?" Nessie called from down the hallway.

Olivia quickly rose and hurried to her aunt, knowing that Mike was silently excusing her. "I'm here, Aunt Nessie. "

"Please, we need to talk," the older woman said sadly, stepping back into the room.

"First of all," Nessie continued as she walked to the bed, "thank you for…_everything_ last night." She sat down and waited while her niece pulled over a desk chair to sit opposite her. "And _thank you_ for letting me stay here."

"It's no trouble, Aunt Ness," Olivia answered. "If there's anything more I can do, just give the word."

"Thank you, thank you, there is." She looked down at her lap as she continued. "I'll need some clothes, and some…my own toiletries, enough for a few days…" Her voice trailed off.

"I'll go to the house, or if you're too uncomfortable to stay here alone, I'll ask Mike to get them from Uncle Theo."

"Yes, that would be the best option, letting Mike retrieve them," she immediately responded, lifting her head.

As her aunt nodded, Olivia added carefully, "Is there any message you want Mike to pass on?"

Nessie closed her eyes as several tears streamed down her cheeks. "J-just say that…I'll be around in a few days, and…I'll call the boys later." She buried her head in the younger woman's shoulder and sobbed quietly.

**Ten minutes later**

"…and then she went back to sleep," Olivia reported to Mike. "I'm definitely going to stay with her today, unless she needs her space. I'll have to call Alex later and ask her pinch hit for me if Ms. Osborne calls."

He nodded in agreement. "In the meantime, I'll fetch her things from Staten Island." He stood, draining his mug.

She walked him to the door, where they embraced and kissed farewell. Their closeness reminded them both of the issues regarding the recent intimacy, so they felt fleeting unease.

"And one more thing, Mike," she said when they parted. "See what you can learn about Uncle Theo's feelings."

_She never misses a thing_. "Consider it done, Liv."

**The Hamilton Residence, Port Richmond, Staten Island, 10:13AM**

"So, how is she?" Theo asked in the kitchen. He seemed concerned, though not anxiously so.

"Well, she has a lot of bruising, including a black eye, plus a bloody nose---which wasn't broken, fortunately,---and a cut lip that needed a couple of stitches, and of course she's traumatized by the rape." Mike stopped and awaited the other man's reaction.

For a moment Theo looked away to the right. Then he asked, "Did she say who did it?"

_Huh? Where'd that come from? _"You know that rapist featured on the news---"

"Oh, yes, _of course_ it was him_---_the usual suspect!" Theo threw his hands up and turned abruptly to cross to the refrigerator. Retrieving a domestic beer and then quickly exchanging it for a can of soda, he continued: "You didn't get the DNA tests back yet, did you? _Did you?!_"

"Theo, what are you getting at?" _As if I don't know_.

After a long drink of cola, Theo replied, "I'm not saying she deserved it, I'm not saying she asked for it, but it appears that Vanessa's actions have caught up with her!"


	48. Chapter 48

"What are you talking about?" Mike frowned.

"Come on; you're going to want to sit down for this." Theo ushered his guest to the living room. "And with the boys at the neighbor's, you can feel free to yell, or whatever."

"So what about Nessie's 'actions?'" Mike asked when they were seated opposite each other.

From the couch Theo drank more soda before beginning. "As you know---as everybody knows---I brought my family down with me a few years ago. But I made up for it: I worked two jobs so that Nessie could go back to school and learn to be a breadwinner." He paused to take another long swallow, belched, and continued without excusing himself.

"As you've probably noticed from family gatherings, we haven't been exactly close for a while, and in a way, I can't blame her. I cost us our house, our friends, our lifestyle, and most of our assets. _But, _that's _still_ no reason to** cheat on me!**"

Mike was dumbfounded momentarily, his heart wrenching. _No! Olivia's not gonna like this, and neither will Marge and Don, when they find out!_ _Gotta get into cop mode, or I won't be able to get through this!_

Frowning, the detective asked, "Are you sure---"

"Yes! Yes, I'm sure; please don't ask me to relive the moment of revelation!" Theo nearly shouted, bolting to the kitchen to loudly dispose of his partially filled can. Returning seconds later, he sank back into his place, saying, "Suffice it to say that she didn't deny anything, she made excuses, and if it weren't for the boys and my still-lingering guilt, I wouldn't be here now!" He buried his face in his hands.

Sympathetic, Mike carefully moved from the chair to sit next to Theo. "I'm really sorry, Theo, for you and the boys," he said sympathetically. "But I have to ask: are you saying this---this other guy could be the one?"

The response was quick and brusque. "His name is Philip Gates---lives above his business, Perk Richmond."

_Was that the coffee bar she was leaving before she was attacked!?_ Cogitating rapidly, Mike stood, saying, "Thanks, Theo. You've been helpful."

"Great, because I've gotten use to being _help-less!"_

_Man, is he hurting---gotta trend carefully. _"Uh, why don't I grab a few things for Nessie and leave you to get it together?"

"Down the hall, second door to your right," Theo replied crisply, rising to head to the kitchen. "Left side of the dresser, right side of the closet."

As he went to gather the necessary items, Mike remembered Nessie's message_. No, I better not tell him about her plans to call and return. After today, she just might not want to do neither._

Shortly thereafter, sitting in his car, Mike relayed the information to young Detective Briscoe.

"You know, I kinda expected this," Ken responded. "Just a few minutes ago the lab confirmed that the DNA from her rape kit doesn't match the serial rapist, so that proves it wasn't him. And now you just presented a motive for lying, which, judging from her story vs. those of other vics, she is. At least concerning the who, where, and how of her rape."

"Yeah." Mike sighed wearily. "This is all gonna be real rough on the family. So, where do we go from here?"

"Well, first of all, while _I_ head over to Manhatten to speak to Nessie, you go get something to eat and take five. That way you'll be decent shape to help deal with the fallout. In the meantime my partner will check out Mr. Gates' background---I doubt if this is his first offense."

"Sounds like a plan. Thanks, Ken, for being the one to break the news."

"Unfortunately, it's all in a day's work," came the solemn reply.


	49. Chapter 49

**Olivia's Residence, Manhatten, 12:05PM**

"Thank you for coming to see me, Detective," Nessie said politely as she, Olivia and Ken settled in the living room.

"No problem," he replied from his Louis V styled chair, which faced the matching couch bearing the ladies. _Man, if fate was different, this could have been mine---sort of._

"So, what have you found out?" Olivia asked, trying not to sound too eager.

"Well, first of," Ken said solemnly, "despite your description, the DNA doesn't match the Tavern Rapist."

"Oh…" Nessie slowly looked away, as if contemplating.

"Aunt Nessie," Olivia said gently, laying a hand on the older woman's and fighting her own emotions, "we want to help you---we want to catch this man, but you have to be honest---"

Abruptly her aunt stood and fled from the room, running down the hallway towards the second bedroom.

As the slamming door sounded, Olivia sighed and stared sightlessly forward as Ken moved to sit beside her. "I know what's going on. All the pieces are there," she said resignedly. "Uncle Theo didn't remain at the hospital, they haven't been close for long time, she lied about her rape---and that's why Mike hasn't called or returned. He sent you to tell me that my aunt's attacker was her---" She shook her head, unable to say the word.

"Actually, coming was my idea. Otherwise, you're right, except Mike also gave me a name, which my partner is running down." Ken stopped to yawn. "Sorry; my partner and I have been working all night."

"Any reason why you can't take a nap now? I've changed the sheets in the master bedroom." _Why did I tell him __that__? Do I feel that guilty?_

"Well, I _am_ working this off the clock at this point," Ken revealed. "After the DNA test turned up negative for the serial rapist, our captain told us to 'go get some rest before you follow up.' But I want to get to the bottom of this." He did not say why; it was not necessary.

She smiled gratefully. "You go rest. I'll go check on her in the meantime."

"Still thinking like a detective?" He could not resist.

"A good ADA wants to find answers," she reminded, adding more soberly, "and besides, this is my aunt." _For the present time, anyway._

Inside the master bedroom Ken closed to door and went to sit down on the side of the four-poster bed. After taking a moment to admire the opulent surroundings, he moved to unlace his shoes and noticed a tweed necktie on the floor. Smirking, he recalled Mike's churlish words and subsequent apology after Max Greevey's funeral. _After this case is solved, I'm going to have a little chat with "Mikey."_

Slowly entering her aunt's room, Olivia carefully moved to sit on the bed beside the older woman, who sat staring unseeingly straight forward. It took all of the ADA's dissembling skills to maintain a professional and compassionate mien. A number of conflicting emotions moved under her exterior.

"Aunt Nessie, I realize you're very hurt, embarrassed and…ashamed," she began, "but it would mean a whole lot towards your healing if you're honest with Detective…"

"Why?! Why, Olivia?!" Nessie, in anguish, turned to face her tearfully. "So that my stupidity becomes part of some official record?! So that I can divide my time between criminal court and divorce court?!"

Olivia swallowed hard before speaking. "No matter what you did, there's no excuse for his actions."

"Blast it, don't counsel me, Olivia!" Nessie stood up and walked forward several steps, stopping to stand with her arms tightly crossed over her chest. "Why don't you just ask---no better yet, I'll tell you! I'll tell you everything!"

After a pause, her niece responded softly, "All right, it's that's what you want to do" and waited.

"After…after my accounting classes I'd go to Perk Richmond to review, and well, to treat myself," Nessie stated, her tone suddenly placid. "I always sat at the counter because I was alone, and the tables were usually taken by couples, or, friends." She stopped to sigh heavily, her head down. Then she lifted her gaze and continued.

"I rarely saw my husband---he was too busy working, and I was too busy studying---but it didn't matter because I was, am…he cost us a great deal. A double chocolate latte seems fair, and, well, the owner always chatted with me after I finished. That's how he knew---that's why he asked me to stay after closing one night to check something in his books. By this time I was nearing the end of my classes and could really use the experience, so I said yes…but that wasn't reason." She sighed again. "We both knew that." Her voice was almost inaudible.

After a minute of silence, Olivia gently inquired, "Was his name Philip Gates?"

Nessie nodded. "He lives in the top apartment above the place---in fact, he owns the whole building." She carefully backed and reclaimed her place on the bed, still staring forward. "I wasn't looking for luxury; it's just that…after we sold our house and had that wretched yard sale, Theo had little passion for anything. He basically worked at his two jobs, spent time with the boys, and occasionally socially with the neighbors. _We_ rarely spoke beyond what was necessary, especially as my classes progressed. It's as if he realized that once I became a CPA and obtained a position, his salaries---and his importance---would minimize."

"But Philip was different," Olivia put in. "He was emotionally secure, attentive, and was clearly in charge of his business."

Her aunt turned to her with a sad smile. "Sometimes it's as if you're _not_ adopted, Olivia1." Then in a more somber manner she continued: "We got into a disagreement tonight, and…and…" Her face began to crumple as tears streamed down her eyes.

Passing over a box of tissues, Olivia put a supportive arm around her shoulders. "If you don't want to testify---"

"No! No, I _don't_ want to testify!" Nessie was adamant as she jerked away. "My marriage is in ruins, now I don't know how I'm going to face my boys, I'm not even sure how I'm going to sleep tonight---Olivia, please, _please_, leave me _alone!_"

After giving her aunt her leave, the ADA went to nurse a cup of coffee in the kitchen. _She really is under a lot of stress from all the guilt, fear, shame and uncertainty. But that doesn't excuse what's been done to her. I __will__ go after this sick perp, Aunt Nessie, even without your help. No matter what you've done, you're still a vic---and, despite everything, I still love you. Philip Gates, your days as a free man are numbered!_

1 In other words, although Olivia is not Don's biological offspring, she takes after him as a detective.


	50. Chapter 50

Her mission in place, Olivia was roused into action. First, she called Donnelly to painfully give an abridged version of recent events and to arrange for a week off. Then, she went through her collection of rape literature and selected a book and several pamphlets that (hopefully) Aunt Nessie would read soon. Next, she took out a clean legal pad and began flow charting questions and investigative strategies. It was the best she could do until she received more information.

Meanwhile, in Bensonhurst, her father was in the middle of an uneasy phone call.

"Of course, you and the boys can come over, it's no trouble…fine, Marge should be back with Maddie by then; we can get the kids settled in her room and talk downstairs…right, we'll be waiting."

Hanging up, Don thought: _Theo has __never__ sounded so stressed out, not even after his father died! Whatever it is, it's more serious than divorce contemplations!_

**Olivia's Residence, 45 minutes later**

"Hey, Liv," said a slightly rumpled Ken, entering the living room, just as I was waking up, my partner called with an update. Seems that Mr. Gates has a sexual harassment charge in his background."

"How long ago?!" the ADA inquired, rising from her chair, where she had been reading.

"11 years. He was an assistant manager of a chain coffee shop in Queens, where the vic was a waitress. After his arrest, unfortunately, he cut a deal: termination and banishment from the company. Of course, that didn't stop him from becoming a proprietor of his own place."

Seizing her notepad from the coffee table, she consulted her notes before speaking. "All right, has the victim been interviewed?"

"Whoa, Olivia, easy!" If the situation had not been both serious and personal, Ken would have chuckled. "It's being handled; she's just out of town for the weekend, according to her mother. But she'll be available Monday."

"So, if there are any similarities between his behavior then and his interaction with Aunt Nessie, we---you can bring him in for questioning, maybe even get a warrant for his DNA. And with if the results come back a match, _perhaps_ she'll be willing to testify."

"OK, why don't you take care of that part of the case, and we'll handle the rest," he half-jokingly said.

Sighing, she dropped her eyes for a moment before saying, "I'm sorry, Ken; it's just that…I want to help my aunt, and, well, I guess I have Daddy's cop instincts."

Nodding his forgiveness, he reminded: "He adopted you."

"Then I guess _I've_ adopted something from _him_," Olivia replied, managing a small proud smile.

A half hour later, long after Ken's departure, Mike returned to the apartment. Having checked on Nessie to find her asleep, Olivia had no trouble seeking the detective's succor. So for several hours they sat on the couch in each other's arms, she updating him and he encouraging her. Also, before he departed for home, Olivia gave him his tie. She did not, however, mention Ken's nap.

**The Cragen Residence, 2:15PM**

Sitting in the backyard, facing Theo and clasping each other's hands for support, Marge and Don sat in long, dumbfounded silence. Eventually, he managed to speak. "I'm…I'm very sorry…if there's anything we can do for you and---the boys1, don't hesitate."

Glancing at the house, where their children were watching Nickelodeon, Theo asked, "Do you know of an affordable divorce lawyer?"

"Theo, are you---have you thought this over?" his sister gently asked. "I mean, I realize that you're rightfully hurt and upset---I know I am---but, well, perhaps this would be a good time for both of you to consider…"

"Why should I?!" Theo broke in sharply. "Do you really think that getting raped by her lover has taught her to be a faithful spouse? That her suffering somehow paves the way for my forgiveness? That the events of last night will fill in the abyss that's been widening since my arrest?!"

Stunned by her words' incendiary effect, Marge hastily said, "No, no, of course you're right. And Don has often said that a rape can strain even the best of marriages. I'm sorry, Theo."

Contrite, her sibling raised his hands, shaking his head. "No, I'm sorry---to both of you. You're trying to help me, and I _do_ appreciate it---more than I can articulate. However, our marriage is like a dilapidated building that has finally been destroyed by a wrecking ball. And, with her attack being so closely linked to…to what she did to me---and the boys..." Theo sighed and leaned back in his lawn chair, his eyes closed.

After a few quiet minutes, Don offered: "Theo, how about us taking in Andrew and Johnny for a while? You obviously have to do some serious thinking about your future as well as theirs."

"It'll be no problem," Marge assured. "Olivia took most of her personal items with her, and the rest are packed away until fall. And the bed is large enough for both of them."

"Thank you very much; I can't be more grateful," her brother said appreciatively. "In fact, why don't I return home now and bring over their things?"

Just then, Maddie called from the back door: "Daddy, Uncle Theo---can we have an ice cream sandwich please?" 

"It's fine by me," her uncle managed to replied pleasantly, and Don added: "Let Andrew get them; he's tall enough."

"I dunno, Daddy," the youngster said. "He doesn't wanna talk or anything. He's just sittin' around, real cranky."

Author's note: Nickelodeon is a registered trademark.

1 Don almost said "and Nessie," but he caught himself. However, the compassionate cop in him secretly planned to contact her.


	51. Chapter 51

**The Cragen Residence, Olivia's former room**

Andrew Hamilton sat sullenly on the bed that he would be sharing for the foreseeable future. _My life really bites. First, the Feds bust my dad, then our so-called friends drop us like toxic waste, then we have to sell the house and half of everything in it---including __my__ PC---and then we move to Losertown__i__, and my folks are like, not talking much and now---_

Just then, his Uncle Don entered, closing the door behind him. "First of all, you're not in any trouble, 'Drew," he said gently as he moved to the bed. "Second, I want to help, whatever's bothering you." He sat down beside the preteen, his expression compassionate.

Sighing, the boy looked down at the floor in front of him. "How? You can't change anything," he said gloomily.

"What do you want changed?" Don's tone was patient.

"How about what happened last night?!" Andrew's frown deepened, his face reddened.

Concerned, Cragen inquired calmly, "How much do you know?"

"Last night, we had just gotten in bed when Dad gets a phone call," the boy said rapidly, "and then he calls Paula from across the street to come over, but before that he looks in our rooms. I pretend to be asleep, so he kinda peeps in and then leaves in a hurry later without a word. I try to stay awake 'til he returns, but I go to sleep anyway and wake up to find Dad in the kitchen frowning at his cup of coffee. And I ask about Mom because she wasn't in her room---I checked already---and he, he says she 'got hurt' coming home from the café and that she's at Cousin Liv's resting or recovering or something, but he doesn't about it. He just kept saying that she was 'fine' and 'just needs time and space to rest' and we can talk to her later. Then he makes us pancakes, and he lets us eat up 'em in front of the TV like always, but I know something's up because he tells us to go play with our friends _before_ we made up our beds---and plus I know about her _freaking boyfriend!_" His last words came out choked, and now her turned to face his uncle, bleary eyed. "Did…he do..._something _to her?!"

"Andrew, by 'he,' do you mean---"

"Phil! She calls him _Phil!_" Sobbing, Andrew moved into his uncle's offered arms, wetting his shoulder with flowing tears.

Holding his nephew, Don rubbed his back and thought: _Having Marge, Maddie, and Johnny go back with Theo was definitely a good idea!_

After the boy had cried, calmed down, and accepted a glass of water, Don gently resumed the conversation.

"I'm sorry about everything, Andrew," he said sympathetically, his arm around his shoulders, "and I really do want to help you as best I can. Do you have any questions you need answered? Things you don't feel ready to mention to your father?"

"Well…I don't…really want to know about…last night…but…but how bad…?" He looked at his uncle inquiringly.

"She's not injured seriously," reassured Don. _At least not physically_. "And Cousin Liv is with her, anyway."

Andrew sat in silent thought for a few minutes. Then he asked: "Can I speak to her? Not now, later, I mean."

**Olivia's residence, 8:30PM**

"…and then we made milkshakes!" Johnny's laughed so loudly that Nessie had to hold the receiver away briefly.

"What kind did you make, honey?" Nessie's easy manner belied her mood.

"Strawberry and banana split ice cream!"

"Yummy! That's three treats in one." Then she heard a voice in the background.

"OK, Mom, I have to let Andrew talk now. Bye! And get well soon!"

"Bye, sweet pea, and I will!" Her eyes filled.

There was a pause. She heard her niece's voice call out and pictured the dark-haired nine-year-old scampering after his cousin to play a game or watch TV. Then she heard her older son intone: "Mom?" 

"Hi, Andrew," she managed lightly, eyes closed tightly in a vain attempt to dam her tears. "Are you…keeping up with your brother?"

"Yes, and I…but I'm still worried about _you_."

"Honey, I'll be all right." Somehow she managed to keep the tears from her voice. "I just need a little rest for a while."

"And then what, Mom?" His voice had a quiet urgency.

"Everything will be better, Andrew," she managed soothingly. "You'll see. Things will get better. In the meantime, you keep behaving yourself and help Aunt Marge and Uncle Don with your brother, OK?"

"Sure, Mom," he agreed grudgingly.

"All right, now, I need to speak to your uncle. Love you!"

"Back at you, Mom."

After a pause, Don said: "Nessie."

"Oh, Don, what am I going to do?!" Her tears streamed freely as she moved to sit down on the nearby living room chair. "I mean, I don't want to lie to him, and I certainly don't…I don't like what's going on with me! I don't like how I _feel_---I can't get any respite, not even from _sleep!_ I keep dreaming about _it_ and _him_ and, and I don't know where to go from here! Don, it's not like after the funeral---_I just can't hold things_ _together anymore!_" Anguished sobs followed.

"Nessie, is Olivia there?" the captain gently inquired. After a pause, Olivia's voice said: "Daddy?"

"I know you heard your aunt, and I also know how you can help her."

"Then you know me very well, Daddy," his daughter replied with gentle resolve. "I'll do everything I can."

Nessie was sitting on the guest room bed when Olivia silently entered. Her red eyes were fixed sightlessly straight ahead, but she had momentarily ceased weeping. As her niece carefully sat beside her, Nessie monotoned almost inaudibly, "I remember the first time we took you to a fancy dinner at a 5-star restaurant. I could see that you weren't accustomed to so many menu items and so many utensils. So I guided you through the meal." Slowly she turned her head to forlornly face the younger woman. "Now…I need you to guide me. Please?"

"As long you need me," the ADA replied kindly, gently covering her hand. "As long as you need me."

i Andrew is angrily and disrespectfully referring to Staten Island. The opinions of this former resident of Manhasset do not reflect the author's.


	52. Chapter 52

**Staten Island Police Precinct, Sunday, 1PM**

"…after I finished my coffee, I left the café, and then I took the side entrance to the apartment above," Nessie said to the sergeant.

Outside in the hallway, Olivia viewed events from the one-way glass, Captain Stan Macy and Ken on either side of her. Her aunt's involvement made it difficult to listen, despite years of experience in rape/domestic violence. Nonetheless, she managed to remain focused and took notes on her legal pad.

"When he joined me, we began talking about the future," Nessie was continuing, "like the trip we…we were going to take over the Fourth of July weekend." She hung her head as she spoke the last part.

_Try to stay focused on what happened, Aunt Nessie---don't give the defense anything to "accidentally" slip to the jury!_

"When he mentioned my upcoming interview---one he had arranged---at a local bank, I told him about another job possibility in Manhatten," Nessie said, raising her eyes. "The son of one of my father's business contacts---I met him at my parents' home over Memorial Day weekend---had set it up and said he'd even 'put in a good word' for me. That's when Phil---Mr. Gates---became angry---bothered would be a more accurate word. But as we talked, his temper quickly raised."

She sighed then, hanging her head again. "I should have expected that; he's always been…edgy about…me and other men."

_So he's possessive and controlling?!_ Olivia wrote quickly, her eyes on her pad and her ears tuned to the audio.

"Sometimes we'd…go somewhere, like to a North Jersey restaurant, a, a gentleman would compliment me as I left the restroom, and Mr. Gates would quietly grill me about how I was acquainted with him. But it was always a stranger---we made sure that no one would---" She stopped abruptly, turning away embarrassed.

"That just further demonstrates that he's emotionally abusive," Olivia thought out loud grimly.

"We know, Liv," Ken said reassuringly.

"I've busted my share that type of scum," Macy added. "I got his number."

But Olivia hardly heard. She was concentrating on her aunt's tearful words as the latter describe the attack. It required every scintilla of self-control to continue writing, but she did, her brow furrowed and cheeks burning.

"…managed, and, and, and straightened myself up a bit, and left the same way I arrived," Nessie concluded a minute later, sobbing.

After giving the woman time to compose herself, Sergeant Art Haines restarted the tape recorder and asked: "Where did you go after you departed?"

"Out to the street where the police officers found me a few blocks down," she said. "I…I was walking my usual route home, but I didn't have any particular destination in mind. I was just…walking away…" She was staring forward as if looking beyond the room.

"All right, Ms. Hamilton, I realize you tried to be discrete, but is there any chance that someone, a waiter, a customer, saw you enter or exit the apartment?" asked the sergeant.

"Yes, Corinne, the assistant manager," Nessie replied wearily. "We---Mr. Gates and I---would leave separately to go upstairs. I usually went during her cigarette break, which she took in the ally near the door. When her break was over, she would be in charge while he---he joined me."

"And this Corinne was definitely there on the night in question?"

Nodding, the woman said quietly, "She was there with her smirk and head shake."

_How much do you know, Corinne?_ Olivia's eyes narrowed.

A few minutes later, as the interview concluded, the ADA turned to the captain and said: "Corinne needs to be questioned. But even now we have enough to pick him up!"

"Yes, _we_ do," replied he, as Haines exited the interrogation room, "but _you_ need to escort your aunt home."

"Please keep us posted?" she asked more quietly. Receiving a nod, she pulled the sheet from her pad and handed it to Ken before moving to the door. Putting her hand on the knob, she paused to ask: "Does a man really go from sexual harassment to battery and rape in one giant step?" Then she went in to comfort the emotionally exhausted Nessie.


	53. Chapter 53

**The Cragen residence, 10:30AM, Monday morning**

While Johnny and Maddie fought with Super Soakers1 outside and Andrew put stamps on baby shower invitations inside, Marge took a phone call in the kitchen.

"Hello, Mother! How are you?" Marge smiled as her nephew, apparently having overheard, dashed out the back door with the obvious intention to fetch the younger children.

"Well, since I spoke to your brother yesterday, not too well," the older woman admitted, sighing. "Of course, I flew in late last night and have been in Staten Island since half past midnight. And frankly, I'm _quite_ appalled and disappointed in Vanessa."

"So are we, Mother," her daughter replied quietly, glancing at the kitchen door. "But remember: she's hurting worse."

"If she had been a faithful wife, it wouldn't have happened!" Meredith declared scathingly.

"Mother---"

"Well, it's true! After all, how many '_other men'_ have had their way with _you_, Marjorie? But I didn't call to debate the point," she quickly went on. "We're coming over this evening. Please tell Don not to be late--- we _will_ eat around 6---_and_ I'm providing dinner, so don't worry about preparing anything."

"Can I talk to Grandma?" "Me first!" "Is she comin' to see us soon?" Racing through the door, all three youngsters spoke with excited anticipation.

Handing the receiver to Andrew, Marge thought forebodingly: _Why do I feel like things have already worsened?_

**Olivia's apartment, 12:15PM**

Returning from Vanessa's first counseling appointment; Olivia answered her cell's summons as she closed the door behind her and her aunt. "Benson," she said, locking up as the older woman continued to her bedroom. (Though cathartic, the session had left her feeling a bit weary.)

"Liv, it's Ken," the detective said. "We met with the assistant manager, Connie, and she is talking. She confirms Vanessa's presence and says she one of several women who have had relationships with this guy, only to abruptly stop showing up to the bar at some later point."

"I smell a pattern," Olivia broke in.

"So did we," Ken continued, "which is why the captain assigned more people to help us track down and interview the ladies. Gates is toast anyway; he hasn't made bail and the DNA results---they came in this morning---prove he's the guy, but---"

"If he's guilty of other rapes, he should answer for them!" the ADA finished for him.

"Excellent point, Liv; I couldn't have said it better myself," Ken laughed. "Oh, and remember your question about him jumping from sexual harassment to rape? Well, my partner and I spoke to the vic, and it seems like she's holding something back. We left our cards; hopefully she'll come forward later."

"Yes," Olivia agreed. _Especially if she realizes that she's not alone! _

After thanking Ken and hanging up, Olivia effected her plan. First, she gave a quick check on her aunt, whom she found napping in "Maddie's" room. Second, she went into the study and retrieved her St. John University alumni directory from the desk. Finding the right contact, she grabbed the nearby telephone and punched a number for _The_ _New York Ledger._

**The Cragen Residence, 7:30PM**

While the children watched Mrs. Hamilton's gift---a Disney movie---in Maddie's bedroom, the adults gathered in the living room. Don and Marge sat on the couch, Meredith took the matching chair, with her son standing by her side nursing a cola, and Olivia perched lightly on the arm of the couch. It was apparent that an announcement was about to be made.

"I've spoken to the manager of the store where I shop for groceries---he's a former schoolmate of Douglas," Meredith said, "and he's agreed to interview Theo for a full-time stock clerk position. If he works out well, he may get a promotion to assistant grocery manager. Also, there are other opportunities for part-time jobs, and I've already looked into larger condominiums."

_Mother Hamilton, what have you orchestrated __now__---as if I don't know!_ Don controlled his emotions---and his tongue, even as Marge tightly squeezed his hand.

"So you're going to move Uncle Theo and the boys down to Florida near you?" An astonished Olivia gave voice to her parent's thoughts.

"After all that's occurred, it's the only logical course of action," her grandmother replied crisply.

"Theo?" Marge looked inquiringly at her sibling. "Is this really what you want to do?"

"No, I don't, not by a long shot," he said, frowning. Sighing, he took a long swallow of his beverage before continuing. "But what are my options? Everything has been going downhill since my arrest---my finances, my marriage, and my career options. All I have left is my family---the boys, Mother, you, Don, and Olivia. Since I can't get things together here, a fresh start seems to be the only answer."

Olivia carefully inquired: "And Aunt Nessie?"

"She has her family in Connecticut---they call almost weekly to speak to her---and in the meantime, she has you, Olivia," Meredith answered for him. "You're more suitable for her situation than even your father."

_That's my mother-in-law_. Don rolled his eyes.

"We can take Andrew and Johnny home tonight," the older woman continued, "after their little picture show upstairs. Of course, we won't tell them the move is permanent until after Theo is employed. Until then, it's 'a long vacation.'"

**Tuesday, 11:55AM**

Olivia was in the kitchen preparing lunch when her cell beckoned her attention. She smiled with anticipation as she reached for it. _It's probably Ken._

"Hey, Liv, it's Ken," the detective said. "I guess you know why I'm calling."

"Then I guess you really are a good detective," she replied lightly.

"I could say the say thing about you," he answered, "because the former assistant dropped by the precinct earlier---after she'd seen that front page story on Gates. Turns out, she had been in financial dire straits when he began harassing her. Of course, she was afraid to lose her job, so she kept silent. Then one night after work, he gave her a choice: have sex with him in a basement stockroom or lose her job. Afterwards, she began keeping a diary of his actions. After a few weeks she reported him. But she never said anything about the sexual assault.2"

"So from there he would become acquainted with his vics so that they would be reluctant to act!" she broke in. "And they were probably married!" 

"Easy, Liv, I was just getting to that!" Ken sounded only half-amused.

"I know; I'm sorry." She lowered her voice. "It's just that my uncle is planning to move to Florida with my grandmother. And she doesn't know yet."

"Oh, man, that's too bad," he sympathized. "I'm sorry it went that way, Liv."

"And the irony is that when she say today's Ledger, she cried happily," Olivia continued. "I know it's early, but it gave me hope. Now…"

"All I can tell you is to take it one step at a time," Ken said gently. "Look, I have to go; I'll update you later."

"All right, thanks."

"Thank _you_, 'Detective Cragen!'"

1 Super Soaker is a registered trademark.

2 In an early episode of Law & Order, it was established that if someone uses a serious nonphysical threat to force submission, it is rape. In the case of that episode, an influential man threatened to cut funding of his teen victims foster care facility (orphanage).


	54. Chapter 54

**Monday morning, outside the 27****th**** Precinct, Manhattan, New York**

"Hey, Lennie," greeted Mike, as the older detective approached him near the entrance.

"Good morning," he returned amiably. Then, soberly and quietly, he said, "I spoke to Cragen at A.A. last evening. I guess you know about his wife's sister-in-law?"

Sighing, Mike nodded and grimaced briefly. "I was at Olivia's when Nessie got the phone call from Theo. I had to run downstairs and get one of the neighbors who's a psychiatrist."

"Was he able to get her calmed down?"

"Yeah, the sedatives worked, but Liv called Nessie's folks in Connecticut. The plan is for them to come down to pick her up today and get her hooked up with a good shrink. Olivia's going with her for a few days to help get the ball rolling with that and to help advise Nessie's parents."

Lennie considered Olivia's intended actions, nodding approvingly. "What are good nieces for?"

**The Hamilton residence, Port Richmond, Staten Island, Friday evening**

"Hi, Ken," Olivia greeted as her unexpected visitor stepped into the living room. "Anything new?"

"No, I just got off work, and I remembered something Uncle Lennie said he'd heard your father say at a midweek A.A. meeting," the detective said. "So, you're going to start closing down the house?"

"Yes, starting tomorrow," she replied solemnly, moving to the couch. "Mike and I---he's coming over later---are going to get an early start tomorrow. I've already started preparing the clothes for shipment---to Florida _and_ Conneticut." She sat down, with him joining her. "It's terrible that it's come to this."

"Yeah, just like with the other vics," Ken agreed sadly.

Olivia squinted. "What do you mean?"

"Well, apparently, after getting busted the first time, Gates selected his next victims with care," he explained. "Each one had a strained marriage. He would manipulate them into subtly controlled affairs and eventually rape them. Nobody wanted her actions to be exposed---"

Olivia interrupted with the main gist. "So to avoid speaking about it to the police, prosecutors and of course defense attorneys, the women kept silent about their rapes while divorcing painfully. I wonder how many were too ashamed to get help." She sighed in exasperation as she thought about the damage that one man had committed against so many.

Briscoe gently rubbed her back to relieve her tension, just as he would do when they were teenagers. "Liv, I've met your aunt, and I know what she means to you. If there's anything I can do…"

She sighed again. "In fact, there is a small favor you can perform."

"Go on." Ken sincerely wanted to help.

"When you showed up, I had just ordered an extra large pizza. You want to transfer the laundry when the dryer buzzes? I should be back no later than 15 minutes."

Shortly thereafter, after emptying the dryer and then loading the next cycle of wet clothes, he heard the door bell. _Either Liv's returned a little early or Mike's arrived a lot early._ He hurried to the front door and peered through the peep hole. _Oh, great!_

"Hey, Mike," Briscoe greeted affably as Logan grimly and quickly stepped into the living room, "Olivia's getting pizza you two while I keep watch. Why don't you kick back and have a drink 'til she gets back?" The last part was called somewhat sarcastically as the other man continued to stride into the kitchen to the refrigerator, which he opened.

Returning with an open beer, Mike grimly sat down in the easy chair, sighing long and heavily. "Sorry. My day had a really bad ending." He stopped to take a swig.

"Oh, you mean that snooty perp who walked on the murder charge1? Yeah, I saw the footage on the evening news. If looks could kill…"

"Well, actually, I just wanted to smash him one good," the detective grumbled. "But he's not worth losing my job---or Olivia over."

"No, she wouldn't like a guy who loses his temper," Ken agreed. _Wow, I guess he's really serious about her. And he obviously trusts the situation with me being here. Maybe I'll just forget about mentioning the tie. So what if he was jealous of what I had had with Liv? So what if he secretly wanted to date her when she was in law school? Heck, I would have gotten my nose a little out of joint myself if she and Elliot---__2_

"Ahh!" Mike stood up, having finished the beer. "Look, you're welcome to stay if you want. I'm sure Olivia wouldn't mind. We can stretch out the meal with whatever there is in the house. Theo---we can do whatever with the food. And if you want to help out…"

"Of course," Ken replied sincerely. "After all, we both know where that _Ledger_ story about Gates came from."

**Saturday morning, the Hamilton residence**

Olivia was alone in the kitchen. Mike had just departed to mail another trio of large boxes of clothing. Meanwhile, she was discarding the leftovers from the refrigerator. Just as she was finishing, her phone buzzed.

Recognizing the number on her cell, she answered: "Hello, Liz?"

"Hello---are you free to talk?" There was no mistaking the hint of annoyance in her tone.

"Yes, I am." _She knows_.

"Olivia, I know you're behind that article about Gates," Liz stated firmly. "Don't bother asking how. I am very disappointed that you took such a bold chance."

"Ben Stone used the same tactic to convict that devious gynecologist3," the ADA justified.

"And he was lucky it didn't blow up in his face. Based on my own experience, I believe that the number of victims who didn't come forward outnumber those that did---and I mean for both articles!"

Sighing, Olivia rolled her eyes but respectfully said, "I won't repeat my actions---"

"Smart move."

"---and I stand by what I did." Her conviction was evident.

After a pause, Donnelly said: "I'm not going to have this type of conversation with you again, Counselor. If you want to take risks, maybe you should explore your father's profession! Now have a good day!"

Olivia stood silently for a few minutes. At first she was stunned by her mentor's adamant criticism. Then she gave serious consideration to her words: "…maybe you should explore your father's profession…"

_Maybe…maybe…maybe…_

1 In 1995 Mike Logan ended the season with a punch to a politician who had just been acquitted of murdering a homosexual. As a result, the detective was sent to Staten Island, as seen in "Exiled: A Law & Order Movie."

2 Ken is mistakenly thinks that, at the time of Max Greevey's funeral, Logan was secretly attracted to Olivia and thus jealous of Briscoe's connection to her. He does not know that Mike caught an eighteen-year-old Olivia buying a pregnancy test kit in Staten Island.

3 This occurred in Season One.


	55. Chapter 55

**Captain Cragen's ****office****, Anticorruption Task Force, Thursday, 10:30PM**

"Olivia, honey, good morning," Don greeted, moving from behind his desk. Kissing her, he continued, "I hope you're not canceling Maddie's weekend."

"No, that's still on," she reassured. "In fact, after all that's happened, I'm really looking forward to it myself. No, this is about me."

Raising his eyebrows, he inquired somewhat lightly, "And about Mikey?"

"Well, no," she said, smiling briefly. _At least not now._ Then, more soberly, "Dad, I've been doing some seriously thinking lately about my whole life and my career, and, well, I'd like to make a change."

Now he became quite serious, his gaze steady. "You want to join the force."

A little surprised, she managed to quip, "I guess you really are a detective."

"And I'm also your father, Olivia," he said gently, taking her hands into his, "and I'll never stop being concerned for you, no matter what career you pursue or how old you are. And I know how dangerous the job is. That being said, I also know that we could use a dozen people like you. You're compassionate, driven, and know the law like, well, a prosecutor. Between that and your courtroom experience, you'll really know how to gather usable evidence. Plus, your people skills will definitely help you work with the vics without turning them off. So, as veteran captain, I'd be crazy to discourage you. And as a father, well, despite my paternal cares, I'm proud of your following in my footsteps."

"But…?" she prompted.

"Does Nessie have anything to do with this?"

"Well, yes," she admitted. "Taking her through the rape exam, helping her deal with counseling issues, and---I admit it---giving some…thought into the criminal case showed me that I do have the knack as well as the desire. But there's also my whole life."

Don frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

"It seems like so many things in my past are building up to this career switch. I mean, when I, an injured and terrified child needed help, a police officer intervened. When I was kidnapped, local and state police---plus one future cop---worked to rescue me. And although Elizabeth prosecuted him, NYPD cops gathered the evidence and brought it to her attention. _We_---I mean you---" She stopped as her father gave a chuckle.

"Sorry, honey, it's just that when you said 'we' it's like you've already joined the force!"

Smiling, she said: "Maybe part of me has." Then, sobering she continued, "You're the first ones there. And your actions and interactions make or break the cases. I've seen Liz send detectives to re-interview witnesses for clarification and/or to fill missing gaps. I've also seen evidence excluded due to police errors. I want to be one of those to make sure that victims get justice, starting at the beginning!"

He nodded proudly. "And you're just the person to do that, Olivia."

As they embraced, his mind raced back to the words of his late father-in-law years ago:

"…whatever career choice she makes, she'll be a grand success---mark my words!"

_She'll do you proud, Mr. Hamilton. She __will__ do you proud._

**Early Friday morning, Elizabeth Donnelly's office**

"Yes, Olivia, you can take more time off to help your aunt settle her affairs," the ADA said sincerely. "This is obvious not an easy time for her, and I'm glad she has someone like for support."

"Thank you, I knew you'd understand," her subordinate responded.

Elizabeth nodded. "Before you go, I have a question."

"Yes?" _Here it comes._

"I hear that you're considering a career change. Is that accurate?" 

"Yes, it is." Olivia gave an unequivocal nod.

Raising her eyebrows, Donnelly said," I hope I'm not responsible for this contemplation."

The younger woman shook her head. "It's something that's been building for a while. My aunt's case just gave me another example of my other potential."

"You have plenty of that, Olivia," the ADA admitted. "You're one of the most hard-working, intuitive, and compassionate prosecutors that I've seen in years---and please don't tell Alex. But, seriously, if you're going to become a police officer, you're going into a frequently hazardous field."

"I _know_." Olivia nodded soberly. "Remember, I was shot with Un---Detective Greevey while assisting on a case."

"And you _still_ want to pursue your law enforcement goal?!" Donnelly raised her eyebrows. "What does your mother say about this?"

_Nice try, but wrong button. _"She called me hours after I spoke to my father. She said that she was 'more proud than concerned that so much of' my father had 'rubbed onto' me."

Sighing in resignation, the ADA said more quietly: "Then, I suppose all I can say at this point is…good luck."

**Olivia's apartment, 9:30PM**

"Mike!" Maddie, having finished her bath and dressed in her pajamas, hurried down the hall to enter the living room. "Hi! Are you really gonna come with us to the planetarium tomorrow?!"

"Hi back at ya, Maddie! And heck yeah, I'm coming with you two!" He picked her up in an embrace and then turned to exchange another (quick) kiss with Olivia.

"Hey," the little girl piped up when they were settled on the couch, "did Liv tell you that she's gonna be a cop like Daddy?!"


	56. Chapter 56

"Uh, no, I haven't heard," Mike said, controlling his conflicting emotions for the girl's sake.

"I was going to tell you later after somebody went to bed," Olivia said, pointedly.

Not catching on, her sister continued: "Now that you know, isn't it great?! She's a chip of the old block, and maybe you can work together one day after you get married!"

"I don't think the bosses would allow that," Mike explained, a bit taken aback by the child's assumptions. "They barely tolerate---I mean approve---of cops who marry each other."

"But that cop Ames did," Maddie pointed out readily. "And they kicked her daddy off the force a long time ago."

"Her name is Eames---Alex Eames---and her father was forced to_ resign_---that means _quit_---and he has nothing to do with anything," Olivia corrected patiently. "And what makes you think we're going to get married?"

"Because you love each other so much!"

"Yes, we do," her sister said, looking into Mike's eyes. "But, I want to be sure that we're truly right for each other. Now I think that by the time I finish at the Academy and start working, I'll know the answer."

"Yeah, we both will." Mike nodded soberly. "Now, I think it's time for you to get rested for our trip to the planetarium."

After the little girl had been kissed and put to bed, the adults returned to the living room, where Logan sat facing Olivia on the couch. For a long moment neither spoke. Then, she ventured: "So, do you really mean what you told my sister?"

"Yes, I am," he replied solemnly.

"Then you're OK with my career plans…?"

"No, not totally." He shook his head. "No cop in his right mind would be. But I know you. You're going to go through with your plans whether I like it or not---and rightfully so. What you do for a living is for you to decide. Plus, I know you'll be great at it. And we both know why. So, now all we have to do is wait a year or so and see how we both feel." He moved forward for a kiss, and she met him tenderly.

"And until then we have a planetarium trip to get ready for," Olivia said afterwards.

"Don't forget the yard sale afterwards," he reminded.

"Oh, yes, of course." She sighed sadly. _And that marks the end of Uncle Theo and Aunt Nessie._

**The Hamilton residence, Staten Island, early Saturday afternoon**

"I just don't know how you can take it, Marjorie," Meredith stated from her seat behind the card table, on which the money box rested.

"I take it the same way I've always handle _Don's_ job," Marge, sitting beside her, replied casually. "I'm proud of him, and I don't dwell on what might happen. Besides, the majority of police officers don't get shot."

"And what about Olivia's own godfather?!"

A button was pushed, but the younger woman refused to be provoked. "His other friends are still alive, Mother." She rose as a car loaded with seniors pulled to a stop.

Meredith sighed, shaking her head. _It's just like talking to her when she became engaged to Don. And I'll probably have the same results with Olivia herself later on, especially since she's so…attached to that policeman Mike. I hope they haven't been intimate…_

Mercifully, an approaching buyer distracted her from her anxious thoughts.


	57. Chapter 57

**Graduation Day, New York City Hall, 18 months later**

Olivia Cragen's family sat waiting for the ceremony to begin. Don, clad in his dress blues, sat smiling proudly between a reserved seat and Marge. Meredith Hamilton, an arm around Maddie's shoulders, leaned towards her daughter at one point.

"I still feel rather ambivalent about Olivia's career choice," she whispered loudly enough for her son-in-law to overhear. "She's _so_ talented, and this work is so _dangerous_…"

"Mother, please, we've been through this," Marge quickly broke in. "What's done has long been done. And you chose to attend."

_So just __pleas__e be quiet about it, once and for all, Mrs. Hamilton!_ Don wanted to add sharply.

"Hey." Mike, also wearing dress blues, slipped into the seat beside Cragen.

"Glad you could make it, Mikey." Both men beamed as they shook hands.

Just then the graduation exercise commenced…

**Afterwards…**

Olivia, locating her family, hurried towards them, her hat in her white-gloved hand. As she embraced her father, she felt their bond tightening. When Marmee hugged her, Olivia felt a fleeting pang of regret: Mother was not there to witness this latest milestone. But then she easily pushed the thought away: now was the time to rejoice, not regret.

Then she turned her attention to Maddie. Picking the nine-year-old up, she stated firmly, "You're still not too big for me, Little Sis---especially with the way I've been working out!"

"The perps better watch out!" laughed the girl, leaning her head affectionately against her sibling's.

"'Perp?!' Where did you learn that word from, Little Lady?" Meredith's eyebrows were raised.

"Oh, Grandma, it doesn't matter what she calls them as long as she avoids becoming one," Olivia said pleasantly, as the youngster kissed her cheek repeatedly.

"I suppose you're right, Olivia," the older woman conceded, sighing. Then, moving to embrace both of her granddaughters, she added: "Please promise me that you'll use _all_ of your talents and gifts to be the best police officer on the force!"

Misty-eyed, the young rookie kissed Meredith's cheek tenderly. "I already have, Grandma," she replied softly.

A minute later, after receiving additional congratulatory hugs from her grandmother and sister, Officer Cragen turned her attention to Mike, stepping towards him as he likewise moved from her father's side. Uniforms and onlookers were forgotten as they gazed tenderly at each other, her arms moving around his neck as his encircled her waist---while carefully avoiding her weapon. Warmth, pride, and congratulations were given with the first kiss, and deep affection with heartfelt thanks were delivered with the next---

"Children, I believe it's time we headed for the restaurant," Meredith called from a few feet away. "I made those reservations for…"

"Mother, please…"

_Mrs. Hamilton, sometimes I feel like… _

But Olivia and Mike only looked at each and laughed.

**Inside a Manhatten brownstone, 2 months later, 7:30PM**

"It's all right, Jennifer," Olivia soothed the sniffing 8-year-old girl in a plaid school uniform, "Mommy's going to the hospital to get well, she'll be all right." _If she reports the abuse, follows through with charges, and works with a social worker as need be_.

"But…" The girl looked away towards the white bookcase across the pink bedroom.

"'But' what, honey? You can tell me; I'm here to help you."

After a pause, Jennifer slowly turned to look at her with pleading eyes. "Can…can you help me…be…better?"

_Now's the opportunity; handle with care, Liv. _"Better at what?" Her tone was gently prodding.

"My handwriting!" She hung her head shamefully. "My---my teacher sent a note home, and Daddy got mad at Mommy for not making me do my homework over, and, and then she told him not to 'be angry' and his face got red so I covered my eyes because that's when he hits…" Her words were replaced by pitiful sobs, and Olivia gently took the girl in her arms, rubbing her back and murmuring succoring words.

_So this is __definitely__ not the first time she's witnessed his abuse. Small wonder she called 911! But she still feels some guilt._

"Jennifer," Olivia soothed as the child calmed, "nothing is your fault. Your penmanship is no excuse for how your father treated your mommy…"

**The apartment residence of Olivia Cragen and Cathy Briscoe, Manhatten, 1:34AM**

"…she stayed on my lap until her grandparents arrived," the rookie, now clad in a long red robe, related as she sat in an easy chair opposite her roommate.

"I take it you recorded everything?" Cathy said rhetorically, for she knew her friend's workmanship well.

"Darn right I did! If that monster doesn't do hard time, than at least he won't have an easy time getting access to his child."

Knowing the emotional fluctuations of battered women, Cathy gave her friend a questioning looked.

"Her grandparents were _furious_. They talked adamantly about getting a lawyer, and they were speaking to the social worker when Karen1 and I left." She paused to take a drink of decaffeinated tea.

"Then I guess this case has a chance of turning out all right. I'm glad something does."

Olivia smiled slightly. "I take it that your date didn't go as well as you hoped?"

Sighing, Cathy frowned into her own mug. "We get to the club, where the owner greets us and takes us to the 'V.I.P. Room,' and that's when the meth is brought out." She sighed, shaking her head. "I excuse myself to 'use the ladies room' and leave."2

"Which club was that?"

"Relax, Officer Cragen, I've already called Daddy," laughed the nurse. "He contacted some friends in narcotics and later told me that the place has been under surveillance for a while. It's going to get raided sooner or later." She shook her head again. "Olivia, you really get wound up in your work. I think that a date with Mike is in order."

Her roommate chucked. "After an evening like this, maybe I need to get _married!_"

1 She means Sgt. Karen Smythe, who Olivia had worked under as a rookie as reported on the second season of_ SVU_.

2 On _Law & Order_ Cathy makes the wrong choice and ultimately pays with her life. Fortunately, things are different in this Alternate Universe.


	58. Chapter 58

**A Banquet Hall, Riverdale, New York, one year later**

Having helped her roommate prepare for her honeymoon journey, Olivia gave Cathy a hug.

"Have a wonderful time, both of you!" she said.

"Thank you, thank you, I will," the misty-eyed bride replied, pecking the other woman's cheek.

"You know, it's hard to believe that you were the little 'big mouf' who dropped by the house when I was adopted." Olivia handed Cathy her white pillbox hat.

"And I can hardly believe you _nearly_ fumbled with the bouquet I tossed right at you." The former Ms. Briscoe checked her appearance in the mirror. "You can't be getting cold feet with Mike---not the way you two were dancing!"

Her friend laughed. "I've already caught the bouquet at another wedding, though it has been a while. Still, I almost decided to let someone else get lucky, until I realized that you wanted me to have it."

"You thought of all this in a split second?!" Cathy exclaimed, accepting her purse from Olivia.

"Well, sometimes you have to do that in police work!" They embraced affectionately as they guffawed, reveling in their friendship.

Meanwhile, downstairs in the dining section, Lennie, Ellie, Don, Marge, and Joe were talking together.

"Lennie, if you don't stop tearing up…" his wife playfully, chided.

He managed a sarcastic smile, as he dabbed his eyes with his handkerchief. "What else can I do? It's my daughter's wedding!"

"And it's not her funeral!" Joe laughed, giving him a fraternal slap on the back. "Even though she _is_ the wife of a mortician!"

"Every marriage needs balance," Marge put in cheerfully. "When Don and I started out together, he was working on land while I was working in the air!" 

"Speaking of balance," Lennie said, lowering his voice, "how are Detective Mike and Officer Olivia gonna achieve theirs?"

"Easy does it; they're not engaged yet," Don reminded, though he was warmed obvious inference.

"But this is the second bouquet and garter they've caught; right Marge?" Ellie said mirthfully, as glancing at Mike, who was standing across the room and solemnly pondering the symbolic item in his hand.

"And they've been going out for…" Marge stopped and raised her head as the exuberant best man breathlessly appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Get ready! They're about to head to the car!"

As everyone moved to perform the final wedding ritual (rice-tossing), Don made a mental note to discuss their daughter and possible son-in-law with Marge later.

**The Cragen Residence, hours later**

Weddings tended to set Marge and Don in a romantic mood, so after dropping Maddie off at her slumber party, they repaired to their bedroom to take a familiar and poignant journey. Theirs was a secret destination reserved only for them, and the route was paved with commitment, trust, and adoration. Afterward, after their final, long embrace ("I love you," she had whispered tenderly, tears moving slowly onto her cheeks, "I love you."), he lay listening to her heart, eternally grateful for every beat.

"Do you think Mikey and Olivia have what we have?" he asked a few minutes later.

"Donnie, only they can answer that," was her simple and yet astute reply.

**Meanwhile, at Olivia's apartment…**

Sitting next to Mike on the couch, she sighed, "This place feels half empty already."

"I…wouldn't mind half filling it, if it's all right with you," he said, amiably, putting an arm around her shoulders.

Olivia's eyes widened for a moment. "What is that; a proposal?" she asked softly.

For a few moments, he seemed to struggle to find words. Then, he sighed and, looking tenderly and somehow decisively, he took gently took her hands between his. "Look I know this seems kind of quick, coming after your best friend's wedding, but I love you, Olivia. I know that the brass doesn't exactly encourage this sort of thing, but I don't care. And I also know that either of us is just one incident away from you-know-what, but that just makes me feel more urgent. I'd rather spend _one day _as your husband than the _rest of my career_ without you as my wife."

She contemplated his words carefully. "What about children?" she asked eventually.

"One of us will take a desk job," he replied.

"_One of us?_"

"OK, all right, I'm kinda hoping you would," he admitted laughing, "but if I had to,_ I'd _do it. I love kids1; you've seen that with Maddie, the Greevey boys, and my nephews and nieces. And I want any child of mine to have the love I didn't have.2"

"Well," she said slowly, "I'll accept that."

"So…" Mike was gradually anticipant.

"So…yes, Mike." Her voice was soft but certain; her eyes misty and unwavering. "Let's get married!"

1 Mike has been depicted acting gently around small children on _L&O_.

2 Unfortunately, Mike was physically abused by his mother.


	59. Chapter 59

**Catholic Cathedral, Brooklyn, New York, One Year Later**

Standing at the head front of the sanctuary and conscious of some of the guests (including Chief of Detectives Muldrew), Mike, clad in his dress uniform, stood duly solemn, his eyes on the entryway down up the aisle. _Well, Max, here I am, getting married in the church you wanted me to attend with you and your family all those years ago---the same day I met Liv. And if you can't be by my side now, at least you got the best seat in the house._

"You OK there, Mr. Bridegroom?" Lennie whispered in his ear.

"Hm?" Mike became conscious of the tear moving out of the corner of his eye.

"Easy does it," the best man said softly, blotting the younger man's face with a handkerchief. "Providing water works is for the father of the bride---take it from me!"

Just then, the processional music began. _Ah, the theme from "Masterpiece Theater"! _thought Detective Elliot Stabler_, sitting beside his wife Kathy on the right side of the sanctuary. I bet her grandmother is responsible for that._

Meanwhile, Mrs. Hamilton watched impassively as the ring bearer (Mike's ten-year-old nephew Brian) and the flower girl (Maddie) led the women attendants. She did feel some satisfaction. After all, her elder granddaughter had agreed to most of her ideas, including having the two bridesmaids (Monique Jeffries, yet _another_ officer whom Olivia had befriended several years ago, and Alex Cabot) and the maid of honor (Cathy Briscoe) wear rosy pink and pale blue three quarter length gowns respectively. And of course, her youngest grandchild looked _so_ sweet in her sunny yellow and white-laced dress, Meredith gave a small smile as she passed. But the suggestion of a veil had been rejected ("My hair's too short, and besides, I don't want to get bogged down with _too_ many accessories, Grandma."). And ultimately, in front of so many distinguished guests, including District Attorney Adam Schiff, Olivia would be handed over to that policeman!

_Oh, Douglas, it's history repeating itself. Ah, well, there's still hope for Madison…_

After the ladies and lone young gentleman were in the appropriate positions in the front, "Here Comes the Bride" heralded Olivia's entrance. Everyone stood and watched as she and a beaming and misty-eyed Don walked up the aisle. While he carried himself well in his dress blues, she drew admiring gasps with her full-length, white and silver-laced gown. A modest V-neckline permitted an elegant display of the cameo necklace that had originally belonged to Meredith's grandmother. Its gold chain matched the gilded finish of the earrings borrowed from Great Aunt Hope (Iva: "Be sure to return them, Olivia---she has to lend them to her daughter next month!" Hope: "I-_vaa_!")

Of course, two items remained unseen. First, there was the blue garter, which she had modestly positioned just above her knee. And of course, rounding out the traditions, she had "a sixpence"---a bus token that Maddie had found on the school playground last year and since kept as a good luck charm---in her shoe.

As she moved down the aisle, Olivia maintained a gentle smile. Soon she would be with the man she had met as a teenager on that long-ago Easter Sunday at the Greeveys'. _Oh, Uncle Max, I know you're happy up there, but what I wouldn't give to see __you__ standing beside Mike!_ She momentarily blinked despite her anticipation and joy. _At least Phil was able to serve as a groomsman.__1_

From her place in the pews, Lt. Anita Van Buren thought: _So not only has the victim become the enforcer, but she's even finding marital happiness with one of my best men. I wish all my former cases could end like this._

Meanwhile, Kenny Briscoe reflected: _All's well that ends well. Mike's a lucky man._

Standing beside Kathy, Elliot amusingly recalled his father's words when the elder Stablers had arrived to babysit the twins: _"See, your garter and bouquet worked!"_

Theo Hamilton recalled his own wedding with all of its joyous expectations and silently prayed that his niece would find the lasting relationship that was now missing from his own life.

Next to him, his son Andrew fingered the card hidden under his suit jacket: it was from his mother Nessie, who had sent it to him in care of his school.

When father and daughter arrived at the altar, the ceremony began. When the priest asked who was giving the bride away, Don tenderly kissed his daughter and whispered: "I love you, Baby." Then, more audibly, to Mike: "You know what to do."

"Yes, sir," Logan said, nodding. _'Nuff said!_

After he had moved to sit beside her in the front pew, Marge lightly kissed her husband (while Meredith quietly snorted in response) and reflected silently. Once again, in rapid recollection, she saw a fearful, injured child; a grieving, black-clad girl; a mirthful preteen; a purpose-driven teenager; a courageous college student; a driven ADA; a dedicated police officer; and finally, a beautiful, poised young woman about to become a wife.

**The Hyatt Regency at Penn's Landing, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, 12:30AM**

Olivia awoke to find her husband still asleep against her heart. Tenderly, she kissed his head, rejoicing in their mutual affection and commitment. Then, she looked meditatively up at the suite's darken ceiling.

_When I fell down those subway stairs years ago, it was as if my life up to that point was going down with it. But then I left the platform…to climb towards my new life…with my new family: two loving parents, grandparents, an uncle and aunt, and later young cousins and even a little sister! And one day, Mike and I will have a family of our own. As much as Mother, deep down, must have loved me and as much as I love her, in spite of her drinking, I know that things would have turned out differently if it weren't for Marmee and Daddy. _

Mike woke up just then. He moved to kiss her cheek---and immediately felt the tear. "You OK?"

She reached for him. "I was just thinking about my life, and what a difference my parents made in my life."

"That's what good parents are for," her husband replied, embracing her. "Like I've always told you, be thankful you have them2."

"And now _we _have them3!" Her tone was joyous. "And best of all, we have each other!"

After a series of heartfelt kisses, they settled together for a restful and loving sleep. For this was only the first part of their journey. Tomorrow their rented car would take them to Baltimore, Maryland and its famous Inner Harbor.

_---THE BEGINNING_

_Author's note: I'd like to thank all of you for reading and/or reviewing this story. It is my first fanfic, so your attention means a lot. I would like to give special thanks to El Chacal, Hope06, Metalchick36, Forensic Girl554, Irish Saints, Clue Impaired justpleasedelete1234321, PaceyW'sgirl, ghettobabe510,.Fanx8x, Neela149, Tommys My 21, That-Guard-Girl, and Crazylilrockstar06. _

1 As in the TV series, Phil was shot and wounded several years ago and subsequently accepted a CO position in Forest Hills.

2 Mike Logan's father would repeatedly batter Mrs. Logan, who in turn would abuse her son. Despite their atrocious actions, Mike apparently loved both of his parents. (This is not unusual in child abuse.)

3 Logan's parents are deceased.


End file.
