Five.

Olivia's living room window faced eastward, so Ed Tucker had a perfect view of the sun rising over New York on this Saturday morning. It was still too dark for any buildings to be well-defined, but a bluish gray canvas replaced the night's blackness.

Dawn.

The IAB Captain reclined against the arm of Lieutenant Olivia Benson's sofa, his legs stretched out over the two seat cushions. Benson was wedged between his legs, on her side, her head on his chest, asleep.

Tucker clasped his hands behind his head, debating what to do. It was just after five; Olivia had been asleep for an hour, and he hadn't slept much at all. Olivia's all-clear text did not come as quickly as Tucker had hoped it would. Duty called, and she went back to work.

"Do you need me to watch Noah?" Tucker had asked sweetly, not quite sure how flexible her childcare arrangements were and also not sure he actually wanted to watch Noah. Lately, he'd been saying a lot of things to Benson without thinking first.

"No, no," Olivia declined over the phone, "my sitter is staying. Thank you, though."

Luckily for Tucker, the case didn't keep Olivia at the precinct long. "It's a DV," she reported, again opting to call Tucker rather than text him, "the vic is in a shelter for the night. Rollins and Fin are going to button it up. I'll be home in a half hour or so." Silence. Tucker assumed their plans were postponed. He was disappointed but not surprised-a cop's life was anything but predictable. But Olivia continued, "So, I'll see you soon?"

After that, Tucker happily swapped his sweats for jeans and a sweatshirt and headed for Benson's place. He brought a bottle of Cabernet from his wine rack and debated whether or not to bring food before deciding against it. They could just order in if Benson was hungry.

Tucker contentedly gazed down at Benson, and then directed his attention to Noah, also fast asleep, visible on the baby monitor; he felt in control, powerful, needed and trusted. Conversely, as he walked the ten blocks to Benson's apartment a few hours ago, he had been more nervous than ever. Olivia requesting to see him after a case meant one of two things, bad serious or good serious, and he was not optimistic.

But he had been wrong.

Olivia left the door unlocked for him, and Tucker entered the apartment unannounced and met by no one.

"Hello?"

No answer.

"Olivia?"

Still no answer. He closed and locked the door, shoes still on, right hand gripping his Glock, suddenly thinking that he'd walked into some sort of trap.

But then Olivia appeared, unharmed, hair damp, clad in a Yankees t-shirt and navy NYPD sweatpants.

"Hey," she greeted him softly, "thanks for coming over so late," she noticed the wine, "thanks for bringing drinks." She looked at him awkwardly, "sit down, are you ok?"

"Yes," he said slowly, placing the bottle on the coffee table and taking a seat on the couch, "are you?"

Olivia grabbed two wine glasses and took a spot on the opposite end of the sofa. "Yes." She reached for the bottle, "I am very much ok."

"I didn't think you would want to have me over this late," Tucker admitted, trying to sound a tiny bit grateful.

She shrugged, "I'm going to be up anyway," she uttered flippantly, "and we need to talk." She stared at him. "It can't wait." Olivia deftly uncorked the bottle and poured two glasses. "Tucker," she started.

"Ed," he insisted…again.

"Ed," she began again. This was all so weird. Olivia felt as if she were having this conversation outside of herself; it was like she could hear her words replayed back to her seconds after they were spoken. She closed her eyes. Hard. Trying to focus.

"Olivia, maybe this can wait for another time?" Tucker had no idea what the night's case was about other than it was some type of domestic violence situation, but he didn't want it having anything to do with Benson's issues (or non-issues) with him.

"No." She was resolute. "Let me get this out." She breathed deeply, sorting it all out internally. She had been practicing the conversation in her head, tonight's job helped her ignore it for a while, but the case wasn't that serious. Rollins and Fin didn't really need her, but Benson lingered behind her desk for an hour before she contacted Tucker. She wanted to call Lindstrom, berate him, chastise him, because she was perfectly fine just seeing Tucker casually, sex occasionally, after all, what would IAB Tucker want with Olivia and a two-year-old? But then again, she wasn't fine with that. She had to investigate, interrogate, and determine what on Earth was going on.

"Tucker…Ed… I'm struggling here, because I can't seem to reconcile the past fifteen years with what has happened recently."

Tucker stared at her blankly

Olivia continued, "You. You were a thorn in our side. A bane in our existence in the 1-6. We hated you, dreaded your presence. You tried to take Stabler's badge, my badge, Rollins' badge," Olivia shook her head looking at the floor, "You arrested me. I just don't understand."

Tucker chewed on the inside of his mouth and he went into cop mode, he couldn't help it. "Olivia," he argued softly, "Seriously, name one of those cases where you wouldn't have done exactly what I did."

"I would not have taken Rollins' sister's word over hers," Olivia said edgily.

Tucker felt blood rush to his face, but he remained calm, "Of course not. But the point of IAB is for someone not closely associated with an accused officer to judge the situation. And Rollins looked guilty. She had a lot working against her. A lot of things went absolutely right for, uh, I forgot her name. Her sister manipulated all of us."

"Even you."

"Even me."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping the wine and contemplating where to take the conversation from here.

"Olivia," his voice was nearly a whisper, "Are we going to rehash every time I investigated you or one of your squad?"

"That's probably not the best idea."

"Can I tell you one thing, though?"

"Yes, but then I have a question."

Tucker took another sip. "I felt sick when I arrested you. Almost physically ill. Because, I…I usually am very good at reading people. I always thought Stabler was the loose cannon, never you. And then…"

"Of all the times you arrested or almost arrested one of us, Ed, that one is actually the time I understand the most." Olivia rolled her eyes and managed a tiny, incredulous, smile, "I mean, fabricated DNA? Who knew?"

"I thought maybe you had a, uh, some sort of flashback. And also that Stabler was covering for you."

"He wouldn't have done that."

Tucker looked at her skeptically.

"No," Olivia said.

"No what?"

"No, we never slept together. Not even close. Ever."

"I wasn't going there."

"But you were wondering."

"Maybe."

"Do you feel better knowing nothing ever happened between us?"

"I think I would've felt better knowing that ten years ago."

Olivia broke into a smug grin. "Ten years?"

"Olivia, I've always thought you were beautiful," Tucker explained, his gentler voice returning, "but I never thought anything like this would happen. I didn't think we could be on the same side. It was that awful reality, that there was zero possibility and all of these other men in your life had a chance, well, that bothered me."

Olivia shook her head in disbelief, "So you took it out on my partner? My squad?"

"Come on," Tucker pleaded with her, "give me some credit, I didn't make up reasons to investigate."

"You just never gave any of us the benefit of the doubt?"

"I guess not."

"Until Brian and I broke up?"

"I don't think it was that even though I didn't like that you were with him. You being Sergeant and taking over, I realized you were someone to be trusted. That you were loyal, to the job and to people who deserved your loyalty," Tucker was struggling to make his point, "And I got tired of being your enemy. I wanted, want, to deserve your loyalty."

Olivia reached out for his hand and held his fingers tightly while running her thumb over his knuckles. Her hands were so soft; his so rough and calloused. He felt bad about that. She furrowed her brow, "It must be awful sometimes, your job."

"Our jobs are ugly sometimes."

"At least some of my cases end well," Olivia pointed out, "do any of yours?"

"Not many." Until fairly recently, Ed Tucker enjoyed being the man everyone feared. He loved the nervous, curious stares directed at him when he walked into a precinct. Interrogating rogue cops thrilled him, it sustained him, and it occupied a place in his life left vacant by his fractured family. There were nights he stayed so late poring over officers' jackets or listening to wiretaps or reviewing departmental complaints that he simply slept in his office. But that lifestyle quickly became exhausting and depressing. He dated a few different women, but nothing lasted and he felt awkward anyway. Working out and true crime books diverted his attention during his down time, but he tried very hard to not have any down time. Instead, he worked his way up through the ranks, logged collar after collar, put away some dirty cops, and falsely accused others, including, of course, Olivia Benson.

Captain Ed Tucker still got a little rush of adrenaline knowing he was someone others dreaded to see, he had to admit that, but the thrill of the hunt no longer satisfied him like it used to. He believed in IAB's role and in upholding the integrity of the NYPD, but the centrality of his career in relation to the rest of his life now was more a cause for concern rather than a point of pride.

Olivia listened intently as Ed told her all of this. She scooted closer to him and leaned in on her elbows, extremely interested in hearing his deepest, most existential thoughts about his role at IAB and in life in general. Hearing him speak in this way delighted her; he was vulnerable, showing weakness and self-doubt. Intentionally or not, Tucker was making Olivia fall in love with him right there on her sofa in the wee hours of the morning.

"I'm going to be totally honest Olivia," Tucker swallowed hard. He was uncomfortable revealing this side of himself even to Benson whose affection he wanted most in the world right now. But Olivia deserved it; she needed to see him like this, to know he was capable of being more than just hard-ass IAB Captain Ed Tucker. "I think about you all the time. I'm drawn to you, all of you, in my mind there is no more perfect person than you."

Tears welled in Olivia's eyes. Her body trembled and her lower lip quivered.

Tucker continued, "I truly am sorry. But not for doing my job. I'm sorry it took so long for me to realize we were better as allies than enemies."

"You don't have to apologize," her voice wavered slightly. "How did I miss this? Us? How could I not have realized…this…until now?

Ed held her hands, "Olivia," he released one hand to wipe a single tear that had escaped, "Liv."

At the sound of her nickname, Ed Tucker calling her by her nickname, Olivia gave in to the reality that they'd crossed the Rubicon. In the course of almost a year, after several drinks, kisses, and sex, Tucker, Ed, finally went for it, he went out on the semantic limb and used "Liv."

Brave man.

"Liv," he repeated, liking the sound of it coming from his mouth, "You didn't miss anything. Remember when we first had drinks?" She nodded. "Well, that was the first time I took a stab at socializing with you. I didn't exactly open myself up before that."

"That night," Olivia recalled with a grin, "I was so surprised. I couldn't believe it, well, I think I said 'yes' to the drink out of shock that you even asked, then…"

Ed smiled back at her, "and it ended pretty well I think."

Olivia thought about that first kiss and about how nervous she was, knowing a monumental shift in their relationship was occurring right there on West 45th Street. "It did," she replied.

"And then, when you let me come over and bring dinner, meet Noah, sleep with you, I thought, hey, something really good is happening here, we're going somewhere. But I feel like you retracted, well, after the night at my place."

"I did," she admitted ruefully, "and I shouldn't have. I got scared, and I thought we were, just, hooking up," she rolled her eyes, "for lack of a better phrase. I didn't think it was possible, you and me. It almost didn't seem real. Even right now, I feel like I'm looking in on myself from a distance, wondering what's going on."

"It is possible. And it is real."

"What about-."

He interrupted, "Let's worry about work when we have to. And when we have to, it's inevitable, we'll be honest. Talk. Agree to separate work as much as possible from," he leaned over, grabbed her face with both hands and kissed her hard, "this."

"That won't be as easy as it sounds."

He kissed her again, coaxing her into believing him, "We'll do it."

Benson had no more ammunition to ward off Tucker, not that she wanted any. "Ok," she relented but not sounding entirely convinced.

Tucker used a knuckle to gently raise her chin so her eyes were even with his. "I love you."

There. He said it. There was no doubt in Tucker's mind. He loved Olivia Benson. It was a love that had been simmering for a while now, and he didn't care whether or not she said it back right then. In time, she would. Eventually, she would say it and feel it.

She opened her mouth and started to say something, but he placed an index finger over her lips, "No," he commanded gently, "it's ok. Wait until you're ready." He pulled her toward him and they kissed, slowly, tenderly, passionately, and it lasted a long time.

At some point, they stopped and just lay there, wrapped up with one another, content, and finally on the same page. Tucker was so thrilled he could not sleep. Instead, he sipped wine, refilling the glass twice, and stared into the night knowing when he walked out of the building it would be with a new purpose and a clear head.

The day gradually shrugged off the night, and the sun sent slivers of light into the living room, casting its brightness over the nearly empty wine bottle, two Cabernet-streaked glasses, his holstered Glock, his wallet and keys, and the baby monitor projecting a grainy picture of a sleeping Noah.

Olivia stirred, blinked, and raised her head so her chin rested in the indentation along Ed's breastbone. She looked and felt at peace. "Hi," she greeted him in a sleepy, raspy voice.

"Hi."

"Did you sleep?"

"A little, but mostly I just watched you."

"How long was I out?" Olivia untangled her legs from his and sat up.

"A couple hours."

"That's all?" She readjusted her ponytail and stretched, "It feels like more. I feel so…good." She bit her lip, "maybe we'll have to do this more often."

"Definitely," Ed agreed, "but first, I want the three of us to go get breakfast."

"Good idea."

"I'm going to run home and change clothes."

"Ok. By the time you get back, Noah will be up," she glanced at the monitor, "it looks like he's waking up now." Olivia scooped the wine bottle and glasses from the coffee table and took them to the kitchen.

Ed gathered his wallet and keys and attached the holstered Glock to his belt. "I'll," he jumped a bit. Olivia wrapped her arms around his waist from behind.

"You didn't let me finish something I started to say last night."

"Yeah? What's that?" He asked, feeling a bit cocky.

"I love you, too."

Tucker hugged her tightly. The embrace closed the deal, finalized the pact, and confirmed this new alliance; from here they would move forward. From now on, they were they, Ed and Olivia, together; this day marked the beginning of new traditions and a new definition of normalcy.

Tucker left the building and walked downtown feeling confident, masculine, and important. Busting dirty cops was one thing. Becoming part of Olivia Benson's life? Well, none of his career highlights came close to matching the incredible triumph and satisfaction that came from loving and being loved by Olivia Benson.

The End. That was fun. Now, on to #Manhattan Transfer. Any ideas for another story? Review or tweet fid2916.