This takes place between Parents Nightmare and Surrendering Noah

Characters and show references belong to Dick Wolf.

Ed Tucker grabbed for his phone, vibrating in his inside breast pocket, and smiled slightly as he read the text message.

Filed for the exam…

He breathed a sigh of relief, for he had technically told a lie when he informed his superiors of the Sergeant's intent to take the Lieutenant exam. It was unusual but not unheard of for an officer to rise in the ranks so quickly, but both Tucker and the folks at One PP acknowledged that Olivia Benson was certainly qualified for a fast track promotion. Tucker was certain he'd made his point to Olivia, that she would inevitably become someone's subordinate if she refused to set her professional sights higher, and he feared that SVU's recent streak of successes would end if anyone other than Benson were in charge. She was obviously on the same page; it had only been a few hours since he'd left her office.

He began keying in a response, Great news, Sergeant

He paused for a few seconds, musing over the end punctuation. A lack of punctuation looked indifferent and perfunctory. A period seemed overly professional. An exclamation point indicated, perhaps, too much excitement. Lately, it was difficult for Ed to maintain his steely demeanor whenever he communicated with Benson either in person or over the phone. Over the past several weeks, their paths had crossed often, and a subtle yet intimate and affectionate relationship had spun off from their professional one.

He took the first risk in steering their quick meeting about Amaro and his father into a pseudo-date by offering to buy her a drink. Tucker replayed those moments in his head often—how she was trying to be all business, how he was nervous, how she smiled when she accepted, and how she easily sipped the bourbon even though she was a wine person. They conversed easily on a wide range of topics; her varied intellect impressed him, and her body language betrayed a coy attraction to him. As they hovered over the bar, perched on rickety stools, she leaned in close when he spoke, intently looking in his eyes, and she playfully nudged him a couple of times when they shared a laugh. As it got later and the bar filled with people, the dense crowd wedged them closer together, so much so that it became difficult to move and difficult to hear. Tucker remembered how he had cursed the crowd in his mind; they stayed a little longer, but for two older cops, the chaotic atmosphere quickly grew intolerable. Besides, she had to get home and relieve the babysitter.

Outside, both he and Benson hesitated, not quite sure how to end the evening. If he were a different person, he would grab her, kiss her hard, take her home, and gladly pay the babysitter whatever overtime wages she was owed. But, he was Ed Tucker, and she was Olivia Benson, and he knew this impasse had to be navigated with care. Until the crowd forced them out, the night had been perfect. Even now, it was perfect. He just had to find some way to not derail the whole thing before it started.

"Thank you for the drinks," she said to him sweetly, tightening the belt on her coat and pulling on her gloves. Then, she reached out and grabbed his upper arm, "let's do it again sometime." Instead of immediately releasing, her grip lingered for a few seconds, and she let her hand fall down along the outside of his arm. Accepting this extended goodbye as an invitation, he took her hand, pulled her body toward his, and kissed her softly on the lips. They remained there for several seconds, locked in an embrace, in a closed-mouth yet very tender kiss before she pulled away. As she inclined her head away from him, she slowly opened her eyes and gazed at him through a few loose strands of hair. It was the sexiest thing Tucker had ever seen, and, even better, the eyes were full of tender affection and satisfaction. She disentangled her arms from his, and put both her palms on his chest. "Definitely, let's do this again sometime." Her words came out almost as huskily as his.

He nodded and nearly whispered, "Good night, Sergeant."

"Good night, Tucker." And just like that, she turned and walked into the night.

Not wanting to appear too anxious, Tucker opted to wait a few days, maybe a week, before contacting her again, but in the middle of this self-imposed hiatus, the job forced a meeting. Amaro and the department were being sued by the family of Yusef Barre, so, of course, IAB was involved. After a debriefing session with Chief Dodds, Sergeant Benson, Detective Amaro, Amaro's lawyer, and himself, Tucker asked Olivia to stay for a moment.

"Sergeant," he had said in his best IAB voice, "a word?"

She eyed the other men in the room, but they didn't seem to think anything of Tucker asking for a sidebar. After all, he had done it before. "Sure."

Dodds, Amaro, and the lawyer left and headed for the elevators. Tucker watched them until they were out of sight and then beamed at Benson. "I wasn't sure how long to wait to call you," he moved toward her, "and I wanted to call you the next day."

"I think the rule is twenty-four hours?" She was teasing, smiling, and apparently enjoying having the upper hand, "so you're three days late."

He nodded, eyes downcast, now regretting not texting her that very night and every night since. "Well, allow me to make up for it," he took another step closer to her. To an outsider, they were still far enough apart to appear as though they were in the middle of an extremely intense conversation. "How about tonight?"

"Tonight isn't good. Lucy, my sitter, has a night class on Wednesdays."

"I could bring dinner to you." He immediately regretted the suggestion. What are you doing? Inviting yourself into her home?

But she agreed, and a few hours later he was drinking wine and eating Chinese food in her apartment. She didn't even request that he come after Noah was in bed. Nope, he, Olivia, and Noah ate dinner as if they were a little family, and Tucker couldn't have been more pleased at how Olivia seemed so at ease having him, a stranger, there in the presence of her son. Noah, hesitant at first, eventually warmed up to him, and just as Tucker was debating whether or not to move to the floor and play with him, Olivia announced it was bed time.

Tucker anticipated the bed time process to last a while, so he began cleaning the kitchen while Olivia and Noah disappeared into her son's bedroom; however, his date reappeared within minutes. The water was running into the sink as Tucker rinsed dishes, so he didn't hear her sneak behind him. When she touched his lower back, he jumped a little.

She giggled, "You bring dinner and clean up, too? Wow." It was the same "wow" she'd used at the bar when he told her he felt sorry for Amaro—playful, almost sarcastic, and so sexy. Her brown eyes glistened and danced and, again, he wanted to divest himself of all filters and good judgement, toss her on the sofa, and make love to her.

"Well," he turned to face her, wrapping his arms around her waist, holding one of her kitchen towels, "the whole 'bringing dinner part' makes clean-up a lot easier." He kissed her on the mouth quickly, nonchalantly, as if they'd kissed thousands of times before. "He goes to bed that easily all the time?" His arms were still around her.

"Usually. He was extra tired tonight. He went to day care today and he never naps long there." She reached behind her back, took the towel, and tossed it on the counter. Then, she wrapped her arms around his neck and went for another kiss.

This time, it was not the semi-chaste, tentative, closed-mouth kiss they'd shared outside of the bar. This was for real. Tucker, used to being in charge in all aspects of his life, relished that she was taking control. After all, they were on her turf. She stroked the back of his head as they got started, slowly at first, feeling one another out, but then syncing quickly and easily into an aggressive make-out session, pausing only to move from the kitchen to the sofa. Tucker reclined against the plush cushions, and Olivia straddled him.

"Olivia," he half-sighed, feeling himself grow hard against her. "Olivia, are you sure about this?"

She remained on top of him but sat back. She looked concerned. "Yes. Aren't you?"

Of course he was sure. He knew exactly what he wanted, and it wasn't a one-night stand. "Yes, but, I don't want this to be it for us."

She leaned in again, "It won't be."

"I've." Kiss. "Been thinking." Kiss. "About you." Kiss. "Since the bar." Kiss. "Nonstop."

"Me too." Kiss. "So what's wrong?" Kiss.

Indecision nearly crippled him. He sensed Benson failed to realize how serious he was about their relationship even though it was brand new, but he was unsure if that mattered at the moment. He was overcome with sexual arousal, and Benson, who didn't wait for an answer to her last question, had begun unbuttoning his shirt as she peppered his neck with kisses. At some point she jettisoned her cardigan, and Tucker slid his hands under her tank top, hoping his hands was not too rough against the smoothness of her skin. He let himself succumb to lust and concentrated only on Benson. He committed himself to the lovemaking, suddenly eager and excited to see her without clothes and to show off his own skills.

He thought about her only in superlatives. He had never had better sex. He had never been with a more beautiful, more holistically attractive woman. He would do anything for her. As the sun rose and cast a dim light across their bodies as they lay together among her sheets, blankets, and pillows, he decided he never wanted to leave her side.

But he was sure she wouldn't want him here when Noah awoke. Not wanting to sneak out, he nuzzled her bare shoulder, trying to wake her up.

"Mmmmmmph." She moaned, reached up for his head, and gently ran her fingers through his short-cropped hair.

"I should go," he whispered.

Tucker sat up. Olivia propped herself up against her pillows and traced Tucker's spine with her index finger. Tucker wondered what was going through her mind—if she was feeling weird about spending the night with him in a room next to her toddler, if she was happy, if she would be open to doing this again. He began to pull on his clothes.

"Tucker," she purred, "I had a great time."

He zipped and buttoned his pants, leaned down, and kissed her. Olivia playfully tickled his naked torso. "I did too," he replied. He wanted to suggest they blow off work. He could make breakfast, then the three of them could go to the park, then Noah would need a nap, and then Tucker could have more of Benson.

"Talk to you later?" She sounded hopeful.

"Absolutely." One more kiss. "Bye."

"Bye."

That day Tucker floated on air. He coasted through the day, most of which he spent daydreaming about Olivia and their night together. No longer caring about coming on too strong, sent her texts at lunch, in the middle of the afternoon, and in the evening. She sent texts back, but she was busy and a late call forced her to decline Tucker's dinner offer. It was nearly two a.m. before she sent him the final text of the day.

Just got home. Exhausted but got the collar. Miss you.

Miss you? Those two words sent a welcome flutter throughout Ed Tucker's body.

He sent a message back. Miss you, too. Get some sleep. Let me know if you need anything. And he meant anything.

Yet today he was flummoxed by punctuation. Complicating matters was that it had been over a week since they'd seen one another. After the night at her house, they had lunch one day and drinks another, but neither date ended like the night he brought Chinese food to Benson's apartment. Their texts, phone calls, and conversations were warm and tender, but Tucker still had a horrible feeling he could be losing her. Something just wasn't right.

As for the response to the news she'd filed for the exam, he decided to go short and sweet. Great!

Dinner tonight?

Maybe everything was all right after all? At any rate, Tucker was prepared to lay it on the line tonight. He would tell her exactly how he felt even if he wasn't confident she would reciprocate. Tucker, even the pragmatist, needed to know his place in the life of Olivia Benson.