"Liv, come here! We've got a couple of Guinness's' here for ya"

Olivia turns around, taking her eyes off the moving waves she walks towards Elliot, her hair out of her face, he stares at her, her jawline exposed from the frame of her hair, her skin, olive toned, her eyes, happy.

"Here" Elliot says tossing a Guinness towards her, Olivia catching it as if it were a football

She takes off the cap with the end of the collapsible table Elliot had brought, she looks towards Cragen and Munch arguing about the assassination of JFK, and then there's Fin who's asleep in the sun, a beer can in his hand.

It's the 4th of July and the one six was hosting a barbeque, it was getting late, almost hitting nine, but that was when the fireworks started. She wished James was here, next to her, but he was somewhere in the middle of the sky, 40,000 above, flying himself and some other three hundred people on a direct flight to Dublin, Ireland. She wondered if planes could see fireworks, if the pilot's who had to fly on the fourth ever got to enjoy the fireworks, or if they were dodging them, trying not to go down, leaving three hundred people, including themselves, without a family.

"Mommy!" A little girl says, runs towards Olivia and Elliot where Olivia picks her up in her arms, cradling her head.

The little girl is about four, with tumbling curly dark brown hair, in a stars and stripes jumpsuit. Elliot looks at Olivia, he knew for years she wanted a child, and she found someone that could make her happy. For years, she walked around with a weight on her shoulders, the weight of being alone, and as soon as she found someone, she changed. Elliot had noticed she took time to fix her hair, make up, maybe even a snazzy outfit at work. He loved Olivia, and all he wanted was her to be happy.

The fire works start, and her face reflects the blue and red hues. Elliot comes up from behind her, putting his arm around her shoulder, and Olivia leans her head onto his shoulder and she holds Julia in her arms.

"James isn't here, but I know he'd probably be tackling you to the ground for this prime real estate" Olivia scoffs, looking at his arm.

"Hey, no need, calm down, I'm just a fill in for today, aren't you and him going on a few years now?"

"Yeah, almost five."

"You're welcome" Elliot says in a cocky son of a bitch way

"Ah, for what exactly?" she says, pulling away from Elliot's shoulder, looking him in the face

"Him, I introduced you to James remember?"

Elliot was right, he did introduce her. She had been going to one of his St. Patrick's Day parties, where he had a load of drunk cops, particularly Irish, screaming across the room, trying to talk to each other. Olivia enjoyed the parties though, she was able to do whatever she wanted, free, away from work. A man that looked remotely similar to Elliot came up to her and Elliot with a handsome man, probably in his late 30's. He had black hair, green eyes, broad shoulders, and a structured face.

"Hai Olivio, meet Jackk-James"

His cousin was clearly drunk.

"Alright Declan, I get it, go off now, I'll talk with her."

Elliot smiles at James, and looks at Olivia.

"James, nice to see you, meet my partner, Olivia."

James shakes her hand.

"James Dean O'Connell, nice to meet you"

"Olivia Benson" Olivia says, responding with the hand shake

"I'll leave you two alone."

Elliot walks off with a beer in his hand and he turns around, winking at her as she pleads at him with her "don't leave me with this man" look.

James sits down next to her, looking at her, he smirks

"You Irish?"

Olivia smiles.

"I'm not sure really."

"You could probably pass, it doesn't matter, everyone's Irish on Paddy's day."

Olivia laughs and notices he doesn't have a beer in his hand.

"You clearly have an Irish name, why aren't you drinking?"

"Pilot's can't drink within 12 hours of a flight"

"So you're a pilot?"

"Yes mam, for American Airlines."

"And you?" James asks, tipping his head to her

"Typical sex crimes cop"

"I went to one of your parties, your cousin introduced us."

"That doesn't mean-"

"If I didn't invite you"

Olivia rolls her eyes at him, but his cocky attitude just makes her appreciate him even more.

Olivia puts Julia down and hands her a slice of blue and red cake from the table.

"Julia, go give your old man Munch a big slice of cake for him okay?"

"Where are your kids?" She asks, leaning into his chest, he wraps his arms around her

"With Kathy, they're all out of college and wanted to get drunk you know, even if they can drink, around me, they can't act like that"

"You're a great dad you know"

"You think I don't know that" Elliot laughs, smiling down at Olivia

The constant doorbell sound interrupts her sleep, her dream skittering out the window. A repetitive sound that irritates her ears. She opens her eyes, the street light shining in from the window. She rolls over in bed, her hand touching the empty side of the bed. James' side. Her heart stops. It skips a beat, and she forces herself to turn on the lamp on her nightstand.

Her hand travels up the brass, the light invasive to her eyes. She immediately feels ghost white, the room as if its the waiting room of a family she'd usually have to wait with at a hospital for a victim. Thoughts came to her head, Julia. Then James. Then neighbor. Then car accident. But Julia was in bed, where was James? Her head hurts from the light. The doorbell still rings. Knocking starts. James was where? She scatters to remember where he's flying. Dublin. Direct flight from JFK. A seven hour flight. How long had she been sleeping for? James was five hours ahead. It's two am, she hadn't gotten home until twelve thirty am from the barbeque and fireworks. Elliot had dropped her and Julia off, where Olivia had to carry her in and put her to bed. Its nearly seven am in Dublin, Jack should be due home at dinner time.

Her head brings her back to the present, the doorbell constantly ringing. Her feet hit the floorboards in the old brownstone. James had made enough money to afford one. James, Julia, and herself lived on the bottom section, as her neighbor, Margaret, a 72 year old woman who babysat Julia frequently, lived on top. She wondered how the floors of a wooden house lost it's warmth even in summer nights. The black sweats she had been wearing were rolled up to her calves, the blue shirt, James'. He had left it on the chair before he had left. It still smells like him.

She didn't hear the ringing anymore, maybe she'd dreamt it. But James was in Ireland, and Julia was in bed. This time, three sharp knocks on glass. And the sound of dogs barking in the distance. She walked in a fast motion, unlatching the lock to her door, hopefully not wanting to wake Julia. Walking through the kitchen, she found herself into the hallway leading to the front door. Through the frosted glass she could make out the usual black ford sedan, and a coated figure with a hat outside the door. Her hand reached for the switch to the light of the front porch, where she turned it on. The figure reacted, moving in front of the glass, no t looking through, as if it were rude to at nearly two am in the morning.

She opened the door. The man had a head of black hair, slicked back, his collar turned upwards, and his hands at his sides, his shoulders hunched. She made a judgement then, the long face, slightly sad, decent clothes, a handsome face, as she stepped back, she thought, not a burglar, not a rapist, definitely not a rapist. He spoke before she could.

"Mrs O'Connell?"

Nobody used James' name as part of hers. She was always Benson. And then she knew.

It was the way he said her name, the fact he knew her name at all. It was in his eyes, the quick breath he took before saying her name. He took a step inside the door way, where she turned away from the door, bending at the waist, her hand to her chest. He reached his hand through the doorway, touching her at the small of her back.

She flinched. She tried to straighten up, but she couldn't.

"When?" she asked.

"Earlier this morning." he said

"Where?"

"Off the coast of Western Ireland, near the Cliffs of Moher, about five miles off"

"In the water?"

"No, in the air"

"Oh..." she brought her hands up to her mouth

"It almost certainly was an explosion"

"You sure it was James?"

He looks at his feet and then at her again.

"Yes."

He caught her shoulders as she went down. She was embarrassed for the slightest second, but she didn't care, her legs gave out from underneath her. She hadn't known her body could give up on her like that, how it could just collapse. The man gently lowered her down to the floor. Her back was against the wall, her arms around her knees, and a white noise in her head. She couldn't hear what he was saying. Knowingly, she tried to fill her lungs with air, to take in the air and to process what she had been told.

For a few seconds she felt as if she was being held down, rather she was being lifted up. She allowed the man to help her up.

"I'm going to be-"

She pushed the man away with the palms of her hands.

She runs to the kitchen, her entire day's worth of food leaving her. He walks into the kitchen, taking his coat and hat off, putting it onto the kitchen chair. He takes her arm and sits her in the corner of the room. Olivia stares at the stranger who goes through her cupboard, grabbing a tea cup, and setting up the tea kettle. He places the empty cup in front of her.

He put the tea in her cup and realized she was shivering.

"You're in shock, where can I get you a blanket?"

"The living room."

Her voice is raspy but she forces herself to talk. He closes the front door.

"You're with the airlines aren't you?"

"No. The union."

Olivia nodded slowly, trying to process what had happened in the last twenty minutes.

"Robert Shriver"

She nodded.

"I'm here to help, this is going to be difficult. Is your daughter here?"

"You know I have a daughter?" and then she thought, of course you do.

"Would you like me to tell her?"

Olivia shook her head.

"They always said the union gets here first."

She's completely oblivious to his question.

"No. She needs to rest before she's told anything."

The telephone rings, the simple ringing puts Olivia into a numb state. Robert gets up and picks up the receiver.

"No comment." he said

"No comment."

"No comment."

She watched him hang up the receiver and place his head in his hands.

She looked at the man's shirt, a blue pinstriped shirt, carefully ironed. All she could see was a plane blowing up in the blue sky, turning it into a cloud of grey.

Olivia wanted the man from the union to walk out the door, to tell her he had made a mistake. He had gotten the wrong plane. The wrong pilot. The wrong James.

"Is there someone you want me to call? To be with you?"

"No". She said. "Yes". She paused. "No."

Her eyes fixed on something in an open cabinet. Shoe shine. James'. He had shined his shoes on the chair in the kitchen in his uniform, a sort of ritual before he would leave to the airport.

It had always been hard for her, for her to have James leave, no matter how much she looked forward to being alone and having the time to herself. She hadn't been afraid of him crashing in a plane, but just the act of him leaving. Even with his flight bag and hat in another, she felt as if he was separating from her. Of course he was, he was leaving her to lift a 170 ton plane into air and to fly off to Italy, London, or even Sweden. Olivia had gotten used to his absence, and then three or four days later, the entire cycle would start again.

He would say he was just a bus driver driving people to and forth everyday.

Used to say, she thought. She took a breath in, a painful one.

"Mrs. O'Connell?

"Olivia"

"Is there a tv I nearby I could keep a eye on? I need to see what they're reporting right now?"

"Yeah, it's actually hidden behind the microwave, just move over there and you can see it. Keep it low."

She could imagine it now. Julia waking up as if it was time to get ready for school. Instead, Olivia would have to tell her that Daddy was gone. Her arms would wrap around the crying toddler. Draped over her like a curtain.

Olivia opened her eyes, her eyes sore from her dry eyes. The murmur of a television was in the background. It's nearly three thirty.

"Robert?"

"I want you to call my partner. Elliot Stabler. "

Robert takes his cell phone out of his pocket until Olivia stops him.

"Not now. Until the morning. I'm just going to try and sleep for at least a few more hours."

"Alright, I'll be down here."

Before Olivia goes upstairs she turns and looks at Robert, who pulls out a cigarette, walking towards the door.

"You can smoke in here, no need to go out in the middle of the night. Just use a glass in the cupboard for an ash tray."

Robert looks at her, yet another wife he's had to tell that he husband is dead. He lights his cigarette and takes a puff.

If you want me to continue, just leave a review. Tell me what you think.