5 people Elliot Stabler met through work and 1 he didn't

1) Nick Burkhardt

Elliot Stabler, a beat cop for a couple of years now, wasn't new to this, but this one was different. A fatal road traffic collision wasn't unusual, unfortunately, but this one had robbed a kid of his parents in one fell swoop. He sighed and laid a hand on his partner's shoulder and then stepped over to the school receptionist and smiled at her. "Hi," he greeted her with a smile. "I'm Officer Elliot Stabler. I need to speak with a Nicholas Burkhardt. Has he come in today?"

She said his uniform and the badge he showed her and quickly checked the file. She nodded and stood. "He did," she answered. "I'll take you." She indicated to her colleague that she was leaving and then led the two officers through the school to the right classroom. "He's a good kid," she told them. "Is he in trouble?"

Elliot shook his head. "No Ma'am," he assured her, but he couldn't tell her anything more than that. His partner didn't say anything either and she sighed and walked into the classroom and spoke to the teacher, and then led a confused young man back out of the classroom.

Elliot smiled down at the boy, a serious-looking twelve year old with dark hair and dark eyes. "Hi," he said to him gently, as he would his own young children. "My name is Elliot, are you Nick?"

He nodded and looked up at him and glanced round him to his partner behind, also smiling gently at him. "Who's that?" he asked curiously. "And why are you both here?"

El turned to glance at his partner and then back at Nick. "He's my partner, Chris," he explained. "And we're here to speak to you about your Mom and Dad. Is there anywhere we can go where we can sit down?"

Nick noted he was looking at him, not at Miss King, so he nodded and lead the two officers to the library not far away. There were nice armchairs there and he liked to sit there when he could. He showed them, and Elliot smiled and nodded as he sat down in one of the chairs and patted the next one for Nick.

"Nick," the cop said when he had sat down. "Did you see your Mom and Dad this morning when you got ready for school?"

Nick nodded. "Mon dropped me here," he explained to him. "She said she and Dad were going to Rhinebeck to the airport."

Elliot nodded and took hold of one of Nick's hands in his own. "There's been an accident, Nick," he told him gently.

The young man looked at their joined hands and then looked up at him. "Is…?" he asked, and then gulped and blinked. "What happened to my Mom and Dad?" he asked, worried. "Are they all right?"

Elliot shook his head. "I'm sorry," he told him, which told the bright boy something bad had happened. "There's no easy way to say this. Your Mom and Dad were killed in a car accident this morning in Rhinebeck," he informed him, trying to be gentle, but like he'd said, there was no easy way to tell anyone that.

Nick stared at him in shock and then horror when Elliot nodded. "No," he murmured and then tried to pull away from the cop, but he wouldn't let him go. "No," he said again and turned to the other cop sitting opposite him. "Mom? Dad?"

Chris shook his head. "I'm sorry too, Nicky," he told him instead of what Nick wanted to hear.

He wanted to hear that they were wrong, that it wasn't his Mom and Dad they were talking about, that he wasn't suddenly left alone. "Mom?" he murmured and looked back at Elliot. "Daddy?"

"I'm so sorry, Nick," the cop told him sincerely. "They're both gone, there was nothing anything could do for them." No way in hell was he going to tell this child fighting tears that his mother had been decapitated, and however much their colleagues at the scene had looked they hadn't been able to find her head. "Nick…" he said again, but the boy crumpled in on himself and started to cry.

Elliot let go of his hand and simply gathered the young man in his arms and pulled him close onto his lap. Nick buried his face in El's shirt, a hand clutched into the fabric next to his face, and Elliot slipped a hand in his hair, cupped his skull in his big palm and just held him close, virtually curling himself around him.

Chris quickly pulled the shocked Miss King away while his partner comforted the 12 year old as he sobbed in his arms. Elliot was good with kids, he had two of his own and probably another one on the way, and Chris was relieved that he was. He at least, could deal better with adults. "Does Nick have any other family?" he asked the teacher as he pulled her away. "Do you know?"

"Er…" she replied and tried to pull herself together for Nick's sake. She didn't know the family, just that she had seen them both drop off and pick up their son most days, that they had been to plays and sports matches as well as they could and teacher consultations, even though he was new to the school and they did not actually live in New York. "I think he has an aunt," she answered him and took him back to the office, leaving Nick in the capable arms of Officer Stabler.

Child Services were not helpful, they couldn't find any contact details for the mysterious aunt and expected the officers to leave the distraught boy on his own, with nothing, at a hostel a couple of miles away where they had dropped kids before, direct from lock up. Chris didn't need to be psychic to know that was not going to happen.

Elliot hadn't let the kid go, and when he had relaxed his grip for a moment Nick whimpered, fisted his shirt tighter and pressed his face against him. And he only relaxed a little when Elliot hugged him tight again. "It's all right, Kitten," he reassured him as he looked up at his partner. "I'm not going to let you go."

Not that he had much choice Chris thought to himself as he took Nick's stuff from his head teacher as they prepared to leave. Elliot simply stood with the boy in his arms and Nick let go only so he could embrace his neck and hold on. He didn't care if his friends saw him being carried out like this; he cared that he was alone now, he was scared, he hurt, his eyes were sore, his throat burned and all he had in the world now was this big police officer, his arms and his partner, and he really didn't want this man to let him go.

Elliot took Nicholas Burkhardt home with him when they were getting nowhere with next of kin or Child Services. He knew he was going against all protocols but the child had only let him go when he had fallen asleep and El had laid him down on their Captain's sofa. He sat next to his feet, laid a hand on Nick's blanket-covered ankle, and looked up at his Captain who was watching him with a smile. "You can't keep him, you know," she said quietly. "They will find his aunt eventually."

"I know," El replied with a wry smile himself. "And I really think Kathy won't like it if I bring every stray home with me."

"But…?" the Captain nodded and asked.

Elliot glanced over at Nick before replying. "But she's already said yes for however long it takes."

The Captain laughed quietly and nodded. "Okay," she agreed. "Keep receipts. But if you start calling him 'son' I'll have to rethink it."

It took a week for Child Services to find out and contact Nick's aunt, and El hated to hand the young man over to the person who stood on his doorstep with a social worker. She was Nick's relation, the young man greeted her with a smile, but it took a while for him to let go of Elliot's hand, (and even longer for the cop to let go too). There was something 'off' about her, El decided – yes, she hugged Nick and seemed to be upset about her sister, but she was reticent with any information about herself, her job, any other family and she held herself, moved, observed like a soldier. El, having spent years in Special Forces recognised the signs, as she did in him, but he couldn't stop her taking her young nephew. All he could do was hug him, tell him he would always be there for him and if he needed anything to call him, slipping his numbers in his pack. And then he had to watch him walk out of his house to a battered station wagon with a silver trailer hooked up behind it. Nick climbed in and watched him as his aunt started the car, waved at him when El waved back, and bit his lip as he was driven out of his life.

2) Mac Taylor

Special Victims Unit was something Elliot knew he had to do to the best of his ability, what with his own four children, the twins just three, his older daughters growing into precocious girls. He also knew other police officers wouldn't understand his almost fanatical work, the reasons why he had to do what he did, and he had lost some of the friends he had made when he had been in other departments.

Apart from Don Flack.

Don Flack had been a rookie when he had been partnered with a newly minted Detective Stabler in a mentoring programme. El found him eager to learn, funny, intelligent, light on his feet. He wasn't surprised when Don made detective, he'd helped him study for the exams after all, but he was horrified when he had heard Don had been badly hurt in an explosion.

So as soon as he heard he went to the hospital to find out what was going on, but it was difficult. He wasn't his partner any more, they didn't work in the same department or even out of the same precinct, but he knew the receptionist on duty at the time. She saw how upset and worried he was, knew him via Kathy, and took pity on him. "He's in ICU on level five," she explained quickly after checking the computer records. "He's hanging on by a thread," she cautioned. "But," she added when he groaned and covered his eyes with his hand. "He's getting stronger, his doc is planning to take him off the ventilator in a couple of days. He should be all right, Elliot," she assured him. "And you're on his visitor list, so go on up," she told him after typing quickly.

"Thanks Sunni," he replied, very grateful. "Really."

"No problem," she replied and fondly shooed him away.

Don looked awful, El decided as he stared at him from outside the ICU room – at the moment he was isolated because of his weakened immune system and El couldn't get in. Don's eyes were taped shut at the moment, he was on a ventilator as Sunni had said, several lines going into IV ports in the backs of both hands and God knew what other machinery around him.

El spotted another guy sitting on a set of chairs opposite the window he was looking at when he had walked in, but he was asleep, a couple of empty coffee cups beside him. Once El had taken note of the steady EKG monitor he observed this new guy in the reflection of the glass. The guy was armed; Elliot spotted the gold detective's badge on his belt as well as the butt of a 9mm handgun under his open jacket. He was about Elliot's age, making them both older than Don, with dark hair, clean-shaven and had a worried frown marring his forehead, looking tired even in his sleep.

Elliot sighed and decided there wasn't much he could do standing there, his face and hands pressed up against the window to a room he couldn't even get into. So he turned and walked over to the row of chairs, taking one at the other end to the unknown officer, and settled in for a long wait.

It wasn't actually that long a wait for Elliot – a nurse came in, walked in to Don's room and quickly checked everything. Spotting at least one man watching, the nurse walked back out and stood in front of him. "Heart is a bit steadier," he told El. "His temperature has gone down a couple of points too, which is good."

Elliot let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and nodded. "Thanks," he said gratefully and watched him walk away. And then faced the now awake other detective. "Did you hear that?" he asked him.

The guy nodded and straightened up, wincing as he rubbed his neck. "Who are you?" he asked him as he checked the guy looking him up and down.

"Detective Elliot Stabler, Manhattan SVU," El told him but didn't offer him his hand; he didn't think the guy would take him up on it. "Who are you?"

"Detective Mac Taylor, New York Crime Lab," Mac answered. "Don works with me. How do you know him?" he asked, frowning at the other man.

"I was one of his mentors when he was a rookie," El answered and looked back at Don. And all the machinery around him. "What the hell did you do to my kid, Taylor?" he asked him darkly.

Mac glanced at him. "I didn't do this, Stabler," he snapped back. "Some terrorist bomber did this. I just sewed him back together with a shoelace."

Elliot winced and then thought about it for a moment. "Military?" he asked, and was confirmed with a nod. "Let me know when you get the urge to do major surgery again," he commented dryly. "I'll grab Don, over my shoulder if I have to, and get us the hell out of there and leave you to it."

Mac was about to shout at him but saw the slight twitch of amusement on Stabler's lips, and didn't. Instead he relaxed, sat back again and watched Don. "I'll see what I can do," he retorted as dryly and prepared himself to wait for however long it took.

3) Agents K and J

Even years later Elliot was still confused about the two men who had caused so much disruption over the course of a week. They had first introduced themselves as from the NSA but neither he nor Liv were convinced. Why would the NSA care about a sex offender who had a thing about licking people on public transport anyway? But they only turned up after they had started getting the same descriptions from people: - human male, then changed into something almost snake like, definitely a forked tongue which he used to lick up people's neck and into their ears. And he … it drooled a lot.

But then, when they all finally caught up with the guy… well, the less said about that the better. It had taken almost a week for Elliot to get what he thought, horrifyingly, was alien snot out of his hair, off his skin. And his favourite shirt was ruined.

He knew he really shouldn't have closed his eyes when K got out that silver device he called a 'neuraliser', but they hadn't asked, and he hadn't told.

4) Danny Williams

Someone fucked up in New York, a murderer got away with it because they didn't talk to their counterparts across the river in New Jersey. So that was how Elliot found himself in the main homicide bull pen in Newark, standing to one side as a short blond man shouted loudly at the Captain, arms waving everywhere to punctuate. He only got worse when the Captain, a reasonable woman El thought, for sitting at her desk and listening intently to whatever her detective was saying, nodded at the proper places, opened her mouth a couple of times to say something, but gave up when the guy just carried on.

Eventually he shouted himself out, well, Elliot thought he did, he shut up at least and the Captain quickly jumped in, not giving him a chance to start again. "Detective Stabler, this is Detective Danny Williams," she said to El with a smile. "He's the only one of the team here that doesn't have a partner at the moment." She looked a little apologetic at that and the detective, Williams, went red in the face and opened his mouth to start again. "AND…!" the Captain said loudly, glaring at Danny and daring him to start again. "The Chief of Detectives has decided we'll be the team to do this transfer. Danny," she said firmly and stood for some more authority Elliot thought. "You'll be working with Elliot for a month, starting now." She ignored him then and turned back to Elliot. "He likes to talk, as you can see," she explained, and Elliot fought the urge to laugh, the guy was already glaring at him.

"This should be interesting," was all he said, and nodded at Danny. "Very interesting."

It was too, the man turned out to be an excellent police officer, if a little … vocal. Their first day together was spent getting to know watch other, El getting to know their procedures which weren't that different from New York, and Elliot deciphering the comments he was getting from the rest of the team as mainly friendly banter.

The next day they got down to business and Elliot decided, if he ever got tired of New York and SVU, he'd take a shot at homicide in New Jersey with Danny Williams. The kid was great company, and El, not really much for talking himself, just sat back and let him go. Danny as he insisted on being called, could, and did, talk about anything and everything – from the state of the economy, the best places to get pizza, the subway in New York to shark attacks on the Jersey shore. He was also getting to have an appreciation of the works of Bon Jovi, Bruce Springsteen et al, since Danny insisted that since it was his car, they were going to listen to his music. Elliot nodded sagely; he could agree with that, he had the same rules in his car.

Danny was definitely a family man, during some off time his brother, Matty came in to see him at the precinct, and the trio had ended up in a bar for lunch and El had had a great time. Danny was so different than the people he worked with; he would never compare the short blond with John Munch – dark, long and silent! Danny was open, wore everything on his sleeve, unlike the normally closed off Fin Tutuola, and he laughed quite a bit too, at himself too, unlike El's normally serious and intense partner Olivia Benson.

And, to top it all off he was a great cop too. Elliot found himself easily picking up the cases Danny was working on and they made great progress. The pair seemed to think the same way, they managed to spot inconsistencies and inaccuracies in people's statements, records etc. Which was why he ended up hanging on to the oh shit handle in Danny's car while said Detective drove like a mad man after a car with their two perps in it, through the streets of Newark. El hadn't felt this exhilarated in a while, even more so as he leant out of his window and let off a couple of rounds towards the fleeing car. It made the driver swerve, and he concentrated on getting the right shot while the guy in the other passenger seat who had been shooting back was distracted. He waited until the driver in front turned the car left and shot out the front tyre.

The result was instantaneous – the tyre blew, the car, because of the speed, flipped in dramatic fashion and Danny whooped in joy even as he stood on the brakes to make sure they didn't get caught up in the wheels in front of him. Then they were both out and running towards the smoking car even as the passenger was trying to get out of his window.

El smiled at Danny as their back up quickly surrounded them – about twenty uniformed police officers, all heavily armed, a lot of them grinning too. "I don't know if I can promise you this much action in New York," he told him, and relieved his prisoner of his weapons.

Danny shrugged, still grinning. "I could do with a vacation," he replied, amused.

The action in New York was a bit different. Danny was a welcome addition to the team, for Captain Cragen at least, he easily ran roughshod over Munch and his sarcasm, Benson and her odd jealousy, got Fin talking, and he seemed to be able to reign in some of Elliot's more violent temper tantrums. He also managed to make Elliot confront his emotions head on rather than suppress everything. A bad case hit them all hard, and Don overheard Danny demanding to know why his temporary partner, father of four, was trying not to show the anger and fear Danny, as a father himself, knew he was feeling. Danny, of course, shouted at him, arms waving in the air, when he wasn't poking El in the chest.

"I can't," Elliot replied through clenched teeth. "What do you want me to do, Danny?" he demanded. "Shout and scream? Sob my eyes out?"

"Why the hell not?" Danny snapped back, and Don watched the show from his office. The shorter detective was up close and personal in El, poking him in the chest hard enough to shove him backwards. "What are you? Some sort of cyborg? I know you're not when you're at home, I've seen you there, don't forget."

EL grabbed the hand poking him and surprised Danny by pulling the smaller man tight against him and embraced him with his free arm. "It's all right to be hurt," he murmured into Danny's ear as the younger man relaxed against him, clutching at El's shirt as he did so.

Don could understand Danny's feelings – three young girls dead at the hands of their teacher, one of which looked remarkably like the young daughter Danny doted so much on at a gathering at Elliot's house in Queens last week.

So did the others it seemed. Fin quickly got up and laid a hand on the struggling younger man. "Danny," he told him with a glance at Elliot. "You're doing something good; not even Liv can get a hug out of tall, dark and brooding here."

"Yeah," the woman herself agreed and stood as well, joining the trio in the centre of the office. "However hard I try."

Danny looked up and managed a smile. "Not trying hard enough," he commented, making Elliot smile down at him.

"She isn't," he agreed, and then winced as she punched his arm, hard.

Danny laughed quietly at the look on his face and let go of his shirt so he could bury that hand in El's short hair. "I'll protect you," he told the bigger cop and pushed him down so Elliot was burrowing his face in Danny's shoulder. "In a few minutes."

Even John had been affected by the Newark Detective in their midst. He walked in the office to find the huddle in the middle in front of Don's office, the Captain by now having joined them. He shrugged, put down the file he was carrying and simply threw his arms around Danny and Elliot, squeezing them tight before letting them go. "If this is a new procedure, I can get used to it," he told Cragen when he spotted him and picked up the file again. "Fin, Liv, I got the ballistics report back on the Hancock case," he told them, getting their attention away from the other two. "We've got work to do, let them snuggle."

Don had been a bit concerned when he had been told Elliot had been chosen to go to Newark for a month and bring another officer back here for another month, but as he watched the pair pull apart and smile sheepishly at each other, he knew he needn't have worried. The blond had been a breath of fresh air to his team, they seemed to get a bit better at what they did, Elliot was calmer, and at least he hadn't attempted to beat the crap out of a perp or uncooperative witness this month anyway. He hoped the pair of them could continue to be friends after this, they could both benefit from it, he was sure.

5) Bobby Goren

Detective Robert 'Bobby' Goren NYPD Major Crimes was … intense, Elliot realised when he had had to work with him the first time. He and Liv had heard about him, hell, everyone in NYPD had heard about him, and it was a mixture of good – apparently the guy was a genius; and bad – at the end of his rope and about to blow. Elliot knew he had his own reputation, probably the same as Goren's, well, the ready to blow part.

Elliot was pissed with him first of all; the guy seemed to know everything about everything. You wanted to know about the life cycle of the broad bean? Goren could tell you, and then explain all about its pests and predators and their life cycles too. Elliot wasn't an idiot but Goren made him feel stupid and he hated that feeling, it reminded him of his father, how he made him feel – when he wasn't beating the shit out of him of course.

But, after working with him a few times he realised Goren wasn't doing it on purpose, it was just how he was. He was a very clever man, he saw through Elliot virtually straight away, something no-one else had before or since, and he didn't seem to care about El's own perceived short comings.

Elliot kept an eye on Bobby's achievements, as he knew the man did with his, and it became almost a ritual with them to meet in a bar, each other's homes or even just to share lunch at each other's desks, dependent on time, or the lunch room at the offices if they could. Bobby seemed to come to him for aid when his mental issues became too much for him – Elliot really didn't know what he could do for him apart from listen to him when he needed to talk, rant or yell, or even on a couple of occasions, sob in his arms. It wasn't the first time El had gone to George Huang for help, or the last time either for personal reasons, he hadn't told the psychiatrist who it was he was scared for, George was clever enough to figure it out anyway, and he was just grateful for the help he gave him. And very pleased when Bobby decided to retire, very pleased indeed. It meant they could spend some time together, just as friends, and Elliot could see the improvements he was making on virtually a weekly basis. That was one of the reasons Elliot retired himself, they had both given everything they had to the NYPD, and it was about time the city gave them something back. So it was with a grin he walked into their favourite bar just off Central Park to find his friend already there, beer in hand, another in front of him and a ready smile on his face when he saw Elliot walking over to him. "El," Bobby greeted him and stood to accept the hug the other man gave him. "Are you all right?"

Elliot smiled, squeezed him tight and then let him go. "Fine, Bobby," he assured him. "You?"

Bobby nodded and pushed the beer bottle towards him when they both sat down again. "Did you do it?" he asked him as they clinked bottlenecks together.

El nodded and saluted him with the bottle before he drank some. "Yesterday," he answered him. "Don Cragen wasn't happy, but …" he shrugged. "It feels good." He smiled and drank some more beer. "You were right."

Bobby laughed and nodded. "I generally am," he responded, and drank some beer while El laughed as well. "But really, you're walking taller all ready," he assured him after a few moments. "Not so hunched."

Elliot nodded. "I feel taller," he answered. "Like I've stopped carrying such a huge weight." He rolled his shoulders to show him. "I get to live my life now, such as it is."

Bobby nudged him to knock him out of any creeping doubt. "Don't," he told him firmly. "You have a right to live, El. You said the same to me last year. What did Kathy say?"

El's grin faultered and he drank some more beer before he replied. "She's worried," he answered and said nothing else.

But Bobby wasn't fooled; he could read Elliot as well as El could read him. "About what?" he asked him. "Money? You've got savings, right?"

El nodded. "Not that," he replied. "I've got several maxed out 401ks and other savings. We've always been frugal," he explained. "I think she's worried that I'm home more, so she won't be able to spend so much time with her boyfriend."

Bobby stared at him in shock – he had not expected that, or El's laughter either.

"I actually made you speechless. Oh my God!" El crowed in delight. "I'll have to mark this day in my diary: Bobby Goren, without words."

Bobby nudged him again. "Stop it," he protested. "Don't tell anyone." He drank some more beer as he thought. "How long?" he asked. "And what are you going to do?"

Elliot shrugged again. "I think she met him when we were separated, remember?" he asked and continued when Bobby nodded. "She dropped him when we got back together again, but I think she met him again three years ago."

Bobby frowned. "How long have you known?" he queried.

Elliot shrugged again. "About three years," he answered him, and drank some more beer. "Do you want another?" he asked when he realised he'd drained his. When he nodded El stood and sauntered over to the bar, pulling out his wallet as he went.

Bobby watched him go and shook his head fondly. Only Elliot Stabler could bring him a conundrum to ponder on and come up with a solution to keep him from being bored and he knew that was one reason why his friend had told him. They had worked together on cases successfully in the past, they would do the same here, so he smiled up at Elliot when he returned, took the bottle he handed him and watched him take his seat again. "So," he began, as El tasted his second brew. "What do you want to do? And what can you do?" he asked, and they got down to it.

+1) John Reese

Elliot had been retired for about a year when he met John Reese and he didn't think he'd been happier. He'd been amicably divorced for a few months, his relationship with his kids had improved so much Ricky – who he had thought detested him – and Lizzy lived with him now in his new house a couple of miles away from where Kathy and Mike lived. He also had Eli with him every other week, and the six year old kept him on his toes most of the time.

He also had much more time to do things he wanted to do now. He had reconnected with his siblings too, and taken a leaf out of his children's books and taken a couple of courses at NYU. Which was where a lecturer he was getting a lot closer to had persuaded him to fictionalise some of his cases and write. He'd sold a couple of short stories and had been paid a rather large advance for a novel. Which was why he was at the Central Library researching some point of law he was going to query with Casey when he went to see her and Liv later.

The guy opposite him on the large desk he had chosen in the reading room was not happy. He was tall and thin, with salt and pepper hair, wearing a suit but no tie, and an almost permanent frown marring his forehead. He was talking quietly into a phone pressed into his ear, his voice quiet and raspy, and he was obviously annoyed and frustrated with what he was hearing. Elliot knew that because of the poor pencil he held in his long-fingered right hand – which snapped when he clenched his hand into a fist at something he was listening to.

Elliot looked up at him at the noise, and the guy noted it and looked up at him too. "Sorry," he mouthed and they both looked around, making sure none of the staff had heard. None seemed to have and El smiled at him and handed over a spare pencil from the box he had in his laptop bag. "You should probably turn it off," he added, nodding at the phone. "You might draw the wrath of the maddening hordes in here."

The guy took the pencil from him and nodded. "Maddening hordes, huh?" he asked him, dryly amused, but he turned the phone off and slipped it into his pocket anyway. He reached his hand over the desk to El to shake and smiled slightly at him. "John Reese," he introduced himself as El shook his hand.

"Elliot Stabler," El replied and matched his firm grip.

And there went his plan of checking that law. He ended up in a nearby coffee shop drinking a latte or two with John, spending a couple of hours just talking with him. He enjoyed the man's company, he had a dry sense of humour, sarcasm that made El laugh out loud, and he noticed and noted everything going on around them.

After that they seemed to cross paths quite often – El might not see him for a week but they would bump into each other in a bar, at NYU, or at an out of town mall where El had gone with Lizzy one morning. It was beginning to spook him out just little, New York was not a small place after all, but he couldn't sense any maliciousness or hostility from him, just surprise when they met each other.

John was also suspicious, and when they met again at Central Park Zoo where he and Eli were gaping at the Polar Bears he questioned him about it. "Are you following me, Elliot?" he asked him with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

Elliot smiled back. "I was wondering the same thing about you," he replied firmly. "This isn't a small town after all."

At his comment John seemed to relax and he nodded. "I'm not tracking you," he told him and smiled properly.

"Neither am I," El responded and looked down at his curious son. "Eli, this is my friend John," he introduced him, and John looked down at the kid standing close to his father. "John, this is my youngest, Eli."

"Hi," the kid replied with a shy smile but he didn't let go of his father's leg. "Do you like Polar Bears?"

John crouched down in front of him and glanced at the bear in its enclosure beside them. "I do like Polar Bears, Eli," he answered him, and then spent a few minutes chatting with him about the genius of Polar Bears. Elliot grinned down at him when Eli laughed and looked up. "Daddy! John knows more about Polar Bears than you do!"

Elliot nodded. "Yes, he does," he agreed. "I think John knows a lot about a lot of things."

John stood and tried not to smile or blush at the compliment, he didn't get very many.

"Have you got time for a coffee?" El asked him when his son squeezed his hand. "Eli seems to like you."

John though, shook his head regretfully, checking his watch. "Sorry," he said to them both. "On a job. I have to go, but rain check?"

Elliot nodded. "Sure," he agreed and quickly pulled out his wallet. "Here," he said and handed him a business card. "My eldest is a printer," he explained when the other guy raised his eyebrows at the odd design. "Some times I wonder whether she likes me or not."

John laughed quietly and nodded. "I can see why you'd see that." he replied. "I didn't class you as a butterfly sort of guy. But thanks," he said gratefully. "I'll take you up on that."

El nodded and smiled at him when he then looked down at Eli and stuck out his hand to him. "Very nice to meet you, Eli," he told him with a smile. "We will have to do this again." He waited until Eli nodded his agreement and then grinned at El as he stood, and jogged away with a friendly wave.

"I like him, Daddy," Eli said to his father as they both watched him go. "He knows Polar Bears."

The next time El met John the man had called him, had been very apologetic on the phone, and asked for help. El turned up in his car, waited for him to climb into the passenger seat, and then got the hell out of Dodge, to a hospital where he gave them some sort of bull about John as his long estranged brother. Then he ended up in the midst of another adventure – something he had thought he'd given up on when he had retired.

He loved it!

End