Rating: this part, K

Disclaimer: You know who they belong to

Spoilers: Everything

Pairing: Elliot/Olivia

Summary: See previous chapters...

Epilogue

2015

Olivia is neatening their perpetually messy living room when there's a knock at the door. She glances at the clock on the bookshelf, calls out come in then turns when she hears Kathy's footsteps in the entryway. Elliot's ex enters in black heels and a black coat and a black dress, her grey-blonde hair falling in soft waves about her face.

"Hey," she greets, tone slightly weary. "How was he?"

"Perfect." Olivia straightens, hugging a collection of Noah's soft toys to her chest. "How was your date?"

Kathy smiles and shrugs. "Not perfect but…."

"No man is?" Olivia finishes for her.

She laughs softly. "Exactly."

Dumping her son's toys on the couch, Olivia jabs a thumb over her shoulder. "The boys are lying down. I'll just go get them."

Kathy nods and Olivia pads down the hall in bare feet, entering her bedroom to see Elliot, Noah and Eli fast asleep. Elliot lies between the two boys, all three of them turned on the same side, like a row of sleeping soldiers. Olivia stalls, watching them a moment before waking them. Then, with a small, quiet smile on her face, she creeps closer to the bed and rouses Eli. Stretching a hand over him, she shakes Elliot's shoulder, his blue eyes opening to find hers in the low early evening light.

Eli whinges sleepily when she tells him it's time to go so Olivia lifts him up into her arms, holding the eight-year-old against her chest. His limbs flop and wrap around her and again, she finds herself stopping to process the moment. To recall holding him in an ambulance the minute he was born, praying that his mother would survive, that his father would forgive her if she didn't. On the other side of the bed, Elliot drags himself upright then effortlessly lifts her son into his arms. Noah's breath doesn't so much as hitch as the two of them head back into the living room with their dozy children.

Elliot greets his ex-wife with a smile and a kiss on the cheek. "Hey, Kath."

"Hey." She kisses him back, runs a hand down Noah's back. "How was your weekend?"

Elliot answers on a wide yawn. "Great…"

"Looks like you wore 'em out," she says with a smile.

"They wore each other out," Olivia mutters, hoisting Eli a little higher on her body.

"And us," Elliot adds with a glance at his other half.

Kathy shakes her head, one hand still on Noah's back. "Noah's getting so big, Liv."

Olivia smiles at her adopted son, eyes glowing and voice soft as she muses, "Yeah, he's growing up."

The voices rouse Eli, who opens his eyes and looks around for his mom.

Kathy steps closer, dusting Eli's blonde hair back from his brow. "And there's my sleepy boy."

"Mom's here," Olivia murmurs, lowering him to the floor and to his feet. "Ready to go home?"

Eli blinks up at his mother, tells her in a croaky voice, "We went to Coney Island."

"Sounds like fun," Kathy says, eyes wide.

"Me and dad went in a Dodge 'Ems car. And Olivia let me have two hot dogs."

Kathy glances at Olivia, her eyes smiling. "Really? Two?"

"Two halves," Elliot clarifies.

Olivia returns the smile and points to where she has gathered Eli's things and set them by the bookshelf. "His bag's just over there."

Kathy nods and collects his belongings, telling Eli, "Okay, say goodbye to Dad and Noah and give Olivia a hug."

Elliot squats so that his son can put his arms around him. Then Eli shuffles around until he can see Noah's face, giving him a clumsy, wet kiss.

Elliot cups his son's face with his free hand. "I'll see you on Wednesday after school, okay?"

Eli nods, one blonde curl falling in his eyes. "Is Noah coming to soccer practice?"

"No, just you and me this time, okay?"

Olivia retrieves a spongy soccer ball from the couch and hands it to him. "But maybe you can show Noah your moves next time?"

"'Kay…" Eli sniffs blearily, placated if not entirely pleased.

He turns to Olivia and gives her a hug then takes his mother's hand as she heads for the door. A moment later the door clicks shut and Elliot and Olivia are left alone in the middle of their apartment, in the middle of the mess. The space hasn't changed much in the past six months, despite their dramatic change in circumstance. Elliot brought little with him from his old life, wishing instead to start anew. The bookshelf boasts two major changes though. The photo of their younger selves with the captain who saw their potential has been brought the forefront. Beside it is a picture of them at a black-tie dinner celebrating Elliot's exit from the police force. On another shelf, in a bigger frame are the final adoption papers signed by Olivia that granted her permanent status as Noah's mother. It was a job she inherited unexpectedly and one which she initially performed with great anxiety. The formalization of the adoption and the backup of her long-time partner have eased that anxiety though, helping her create for Noah a life that was stable, warm and happy. In the process, she's created a life for herself in which she can finally, entirely and lastingly thrive.

Taking her rapidly growing boy from her partner's arms, she watches his little forehead crease as he wakes. "Okay, I'm going to give this one a bath. You mind starting dinner?"

Elliot shrugs and casts a look at the kitchen. "Not as long as you don't mind another night of Pasta a la Stabler."

She smiles, bobbing a whingey Noah on her hip. "I love Pasta a la Stabler."

"Ah, you say that now…" he muses with a doubtful tip of his head.

"I'll always say it," she replies, voice quiet enough that it draws his gaze.

When their eyes meet, Elliot smiles then leans in to give her a soft, lingering kiss.

It's as close as she's come to saying vows, maybe as close as they'll ever come. Maybe they already said their vows, many years before. Or maybe they never needed to. Maybe no woman or man could ever tear asunder what fate had brought together. Not once or twice but three separate times. Fate first brought them together when they were young, green and idiotically blind. They were brought together a second time after a tentative stint as lovers and a painful, protracted separation. Eight years later, fate orchestrated another meeting between two people who were far from young and green, though still a little blind.

It seemed that fate had further plans for them and much more faith in them than they themselves had ever had. Despite everything – all their distance and denial, all their rationalization and professionalism – something intimate, irrational and utterly undeniable had survived. And despite the damage done by those years of silent deprivation and by those unendurable stints of separation, something still waited for them over the final crest. Something simple and vast. Something ordinary, quiet and momentous.

A life.

The End/Beginning.