WHAT?! A 'Olivia is happy' story? Yes, folks. She deserves some moments to smile. Heck, she deserves the best life ever. So here is my small attempt to give her a piece of that. And with Baby Boy Doe AKA Noah, I think she just might this upcoming season. :) HAPPY HIATUS EVERYONE!

I always liked the story of Noah's Ark and the idea of starting anew by rescuing the things you like and leaving the rest behind. ~ Zach Braff

Olivia slowly circled Central Park before coming to rest at one of the benches that backed up to the green shrubs lining the walkways. The warm summer wind blew back wisps of her auburn hair, framing her face that, for the first time in a while, held a content smile. She leaned back into the old wood, her right hand lazily tracing the handle of the stroller beside her. A small cry tore her attention away from the kids climbing the towering gray rocks dotting the grassy expanse before her, pushing each other playfully, their giggles cutting through the rustle of the trees swayed by the wind. Olivia bent over and undid the clasps of the stroller straps and gently lifted its occupant.

Noah's face bubbled with excitement as Olivia lifted him high above her head, making silly airplane noises as she tilted him side to side. He looked down, and brown met blue. Normally, that would bring 12 years of love, pain, and denial flooding to the front of her mind. But Noah's eyes held innocence, trust, and a love she'd never felt before. She twisted her face into a goofy look, crinkling her nose and sticking her tongue out at an odd angle that caused the little boy who'd stolen her heart to burst into a fit of happy squeals. Flipping him around, she seated him on her lap and bounced him up and down as he gazed silently across the park at the kids who now raced around, blowing bubbles that floated up into the treetops. He was an observer, like her. Olivia had no doubt he would make a great detective one day.

Suddenly, a butterfly flit past, and Noah's eyes bulged in wonderment, his chubby little fingers reaching out in an attempt to grasp the thing. It floated past the two, coming to rest on the vibrant floral shirt of an older Hispanic woman sitting at the adjacent bench. The woman held her hand up to her shirt, and the insect, bathed in a myriad of greens, walked onto her fingers, opening and closing its wings. The lady, noticing Noah's fascination with the colorful creature, slowly got up and walked over to where they were seated, a smile playing on her lips.

Olivia tensed, her training kicking in as she clutched Noah a little tighter and pressed him to her chest, to which Noah protested the squashing with a pain-filled grunt, his eyes widening in wonder at the approaching company. Olivia chided herself for overreacting, twining her hands with Noah's and bouncing him around some more. She wasn't used to the increased social interactions that came with having a baby. She begrudgingly realized she'd have to be open to more attention. We'll see how that goes, she chuckled.

The old woman bent over, her graying hair bobbing at her shoulders, and gave a Noah a small smile as she held out her hand to him, the hand where the bright butterfly rested. Noticing Olivia's discomfort with her presence, she nodded towards Olivia, asking her silently for permission. Olivia relaxed a little, giving a tilt of the head and forcing a small smile towards the Hispanic lady who, after careful observation, seemed to pose no threat. She leaned back into the bench and relaxed her tense, fight-or-flight stance. The kind woman's eyes crinkled as she refocused her attention to the now-babbling Noah, whose eyes were transfixed on the fluttering creature. She placed her finger on his forearm and the insect glided its way onto his arm. Noah giggled as the butterfly's delicate feet tickled his soft skin. The lady pointed towards the butterfly and said in a hushed, honey-smooth voice, "verde, green."

The soft-spoken phrase pulled Olivia back to a rhyme she learned long ago:

Manzana, apple/ Verde, green/ Castillo, castle/ Y Reina, queen.

Noah responded with an unintelligible babble, shaking his arms. The butterfly, disturbed, flew away; soaring up into the trees, disappearing with the bubbles that floated up until they popped among the green. Noah's face was crestfallen, and he stuck out his lower lip in a big pout, a threat to the flood of tears soon to follow. Olivia turned him around and buried his head into her shoulder, rubbing small circles on his back and making soft shushing noises to prevent a public tantrum and draw even more attention upon herself. His few whimpers dissolved into sad hiccups, and she sat him down in her lap facing her.

"Bop!" Olivia gave him a playful tap on the nose, bouncing him in her lap. She leaned over to reach the stroller beside her, digging around in the bright blue baby bag in the underneath compartment until her hand brushed up against the desired object. She pulled out a blue stuffed elephant with a teething ring attached and shook the noise-making animal in front of him. She smiled when he grabbed onto it and shoved it up into his face, attacking the toy with his toothless mouth. Olivia looked up and realized the woman was standing in the same place, unsure of what to do, obviously wanting to stick around for a while. Olivia scooted over as an invitation. "Sorry," she choked out in a half-laugh.

The older woman simply smiled, gingerly seating herself beside the detective-unbeknownst to her-and gazing fondly at Noah as he ravaged the elephant Olivia dubbed Elliot. "He's beautiful boy. Very healthy." Olivia laughed; when she was little, her few friends she knew in Spanish Harlem said that's what all the Mexican mommies say when a baby's nice and plump. She remembered Carolina saying: "Fat is Spanish for healthy!"

"Thank you," Olivia said, giving a genuine laugh. She tickled the soles of Noah's feet, causing him to squirm and giggle. The lady's eyes crinkled, revealing heavy laugh lines that reflected a long, happy life. Olivia hoped she would have those someday, in place of the lines of hardship and fatigue that had been etched into her over the years. She hoped people would notice her when she was older and see a woman who lived a long, happy life. Because she would have. It was starting now, with Noah.

"What's this precious boy's name?"

"Um, Noah."

The lady studied Olivia's face. "I tell he's your first. You have first-time mom glow. He makes you happy, no?" Her broken English was accentuated by her strong accent, hinting at somewhere in Central America.

Olivia's face broke out into a grin. She looked down at her son and stroked his brown hair that was just starting to curl at the edges. "He's my whole world." Feeling more comfortable with the welcome stranger, Olivia focused on the woman. She stuck out her right hand, maneuvering it around her son who was cuddled against her chest, tucking the slobber-covered elephant under his chin. "Olivia Benson." It felt nice to have a normal conversation, not having to open with a formal title or observe to incriminate or interrogate to dig deep into truths and lies. It was…pleasant. And new. Something she thought she just might be able to get used to.

The Hispanic woman returned the gesture, her grip just as gentle as her personality. "Beatrice. Recinos." Olivia thought she recognized that name from somewhere, but she couldn't quite place it. She knew she'd never seen this woman before.

A young Hispanic woman who looked to be in her college years suddenly appeared in their line of sight, carrying a hand-woven tote, colored in all shades of green, slung over one shoulder. Her silky hair was pulled back into an intricate braid, and her brow was furrowed in concentration as she scanned the park, as if searching for something. She carried a thin notebook in the other arm. The girl's deep brown eyes shone with determination, aptitude, and something Olivia had seen in herself recently: someone who had seen more and experienced more than she ever should have, and one who lived through it. A survivor.

She spotted the group of three, apparently finding what she was looking for, as she quickened her pace towards them.

"Mom, what did I tell you about talking to strangers?" she teased as she approached them, her attention focused on Beatrice. Her accent was almost unnoticeable. "They might think-"

As she started to make a jive at her now publicly known mom, she and Olivia locked eyes. The girl stopped speaking. She froze in place. She blinked a couple of times, gears turning in her head. Suddenly she squealed and launched herself at Olivia, throwing down her notebook and tote as she flung her arms around the sergeant in a tight hug that threatened to never let go. The girl trembled as a stunned Olivia slowly reached up and patted her back. Something wet seeped into the shoulder of Olivia's shirt; she realized it was tears.

Noah grunted at the proximity of the stranger, bouncing up and down since the attention had been taken from him.

Before Olivia could form a question, the young woman pulled back, her face beaming as her eyes glistened with tears. "Mom," she croaked, gesturing toward her, "this is Olivia." The girl turned back towards Olivia. She fiddled with her clasped hands in front of her, suddenly becoming very shy and unsure. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Do you remember me? My name's Maria. You saved my life."

Olivia's mouth still agape, Maria bent down, taking one of Noah's hands in hers. Noah latched on to her finger and tried to bring it up to his mouth, tossing Elliot aside. She smiled and craned her neck, looking over at Olivia. "Looks like you got what you always wanted."

Her eyes reflecting the swimming tears she saw in Maria's, Olivia just smiled.