Tuckson oneshot. Set in the very near future on the most perfect spring day anyone could possibly imagine (trying to quell my anxiety about Manhattan Transfer!). Nothing but sweetness here!

"Noah! Noah, don't go too far!"

Everyone except for Noah Benson took a break from kicking a toddler-sized soccer ball back and forth and began uncovering containers of picnic food—mini sandwiches, chips, fruit, veggies and dip, and the corner deli's best pasta salad. On an oversized blanket emblazoned with the NYPD logo sat four adults, including two police officers flouting park rules by sipping rosé from red plastic cups.

"Noah!"

Sarah jumped up and chased after Noah who weaved nimbly through the maze of families with setups similar to theirs. The four of them, Sarah, Brooke, Ed, and Olivia had been taking turns wrangling Noah over the course of the afternoon. This time, Sarah returned with the two-year-old slung under her right arm. She flipped him upside down, held him by the ankles, and swung him gently toward Olivia who deftly turned him right-side-up and into her lap.

"Ok, mister, let's have some lunch."

Noah squirmed, desperately trying to break free, "No! Ball!"

Brooke grabbed the ball and put it behind her, leaning back on it as she bit into a sandwich. "Sorry, dude, it's my backrest now," she playfully taunted him.

Noah crawled across the blanket and did his best to try and pry the ball loose, but he was outmatched. Brooke popped the last quarter of the sandwich into her mouth, wrestled Noah to the ground, and mercilessly tickled him.

Noah shrieked and wriggled with delight, "Ma! Help!" He kicked and giggled, and tried summoning another person. "Ed!" Noah kicked some more, knocking over Brooke's wine.

She stopped the tickle attack and, laughing, shrugged off the mess. "That's what I get."

As Brooke dabbed the wine puddle with a paper towel, Tucker motioned to Noah. "Come here, bud." Noah scooted over and plopped himself in Tucker's lap. "Here, have some grapes." Tucker opened a small plastic container and offered Noah his favorite fruit which the boy ate happily. Noah was perfectly capable of feeding himself, but Ed doted on him and carefully picked out items from the spread he knew he liked—grapes, turkey sandwich, and pieces of pasta with very little dressing. The kid was not a picky eater most of the time, but he did not like any type of sauce on his pasta. Noah sank comfortably into Tucker's lap and ate.

Olivia finished her own lunch, leaned back on her elbows, extended her legs, and savored the moment's bliss. New York City could not offer a more perfect day. The blue sky and the city's skyscrapers enveloped the park's visitors in an urban sanctity, a type of contentment only New York residents could fully appreciate, and those residents flocked to the park on this Saturday afternoon. The collective vibe was light and carefree—children ran and screamed, errant Frisbees were cheerfully tossed back to their owners, and strangers gladly donated extra forks or napkins or corkscrews to one another. Moments like this one sometimes triggered nervousness in Olivia because it was just too good, but she resolved, today at least, to embrace her newfound happiness. On this gorgeous Saturday, she, Noah, Ed, and the girls were just another group in the park. They wore t-shirts and shorts and sneakers. The benign normalcy of it all was refreshing.

Ed's daughters decided to gift him with their presence for the weekend. The visit was a surprise for Ed and for Olivia, too. Yesterday, as she was clearing her desk for the weekend, two young ladies showed up at the precinct. They strolled in confidently, two adorable, giggling blondes, one a head taller than the other but otherwise almost identical, and Carisi was more than happy to intercept them as they looked around for someone resembling Olivia Benson.

Carisi darted over to them, "Ladies, may I help you?"

"Oh, no, well, we're not here to report a crime, sir, or…Sergeant?" The taller girl replied, then was nudged by her sister.

"He's a detective," the shorter one corrected, as if Carisi couldn't hear her.

"I'm sorry. My mistake. The desk sergeant sent us up, so, you know, I had 'sergeant' in my head," she looked at Carisi apologetically, maybe a bit flirtatiously. He thought he recognized her from somewhere, those bright blue eyes seemed familiar, but he couldn't pinpoint where he may have seen her before.

The shorter one extended her hand, "I'm Brooke Tucker, this is Sarah," she nodded in her sister's direction, "and we are here to see Olivia Benson."

"Lieutenant Olivia Benson," this time, Sarah did the correcting and the nudging.

Carisi smiled, amused by the sisterly tête-à- tête, and pointed to Olivia's office. "The Lieutenant's door is open. Go ahead on back."

Sarah, clearly excited, half-walked, half-skipped, to Benson's door and simultaneously knocked and walked in. Brooke trailed her by a few steps.

"Lieutenant?"

Benson glanced up, glasses on, at the two twenty-somethings standing at her desk, beaming down at her. Who are these two? Benson, in work mode, did not immediately connect the girls' faces with the photographs in Tucker's apartment. "Hello," she said curiously, craning her neck to see if Carisi was at his desk. He usually checked with her before sending in visitors.

"It's SO nice to meet you!" Sarah exclaimed, reaching out for Olivia's hand. Benson accepted the handshake, still confused and bewildered by this bubbly pair.

Brooke, the more levelheaded of the two, rescued Benson. "I'm Brooke and this is Sarah," she said with a smile, revealing perfectly straight, white teeth, "we're Ed Tucker's daughters."

"Oh! Ok!" Benson smiled and rolled her eyes at herself, slightly chagrinned, "I'm sorry, I've seen your pictures before, I just couldn't put two and two together." Had the girls strode in stoical and austere like their father, she might have realized who they were immediately. Their blue eyes and well-defined cheekbones bore an unmistakable resemblance to the IAB Captain, but their demeanors, well, they must have inherited the perkiness from their mother.

"We're sorry just to barge in like this," Brooke continued, "we probably should have called, but we wanted to surprise our dad and it would've been suspicious if we asked for your number!"

Olivia laughed, "No problem. I'm so glad to meet you and happy you thought to come by." How did they know where she would be? Oh, well. Olivia decided to roll with it.

Sarah, who had been wandering around the office inspecting the plaques and photographs, returned to the conversation. "Healwayscomplainswe'reneveralltogether." Sarah spoke so quickly, like her words were shot from a machine gun. Listening to her required extra focus.

"You're the one who decided to move to Philly and never come home!"

"Hey," Sarah replied sharply, "I'm here now. And I can't just pick up and leave and take days off. I just got hired and I'm gonna have to go all in for a looooong time if I want to move up. It's a dog-eat-dog world in the CPA biz."

Brooke shook her head, "I cannot believe you are a CPA."

"I know. How many credit cards did I max out in college?"

"Good thing they were in dad's name."

"I can't believe I'm still alive." Sarah turned to Olivia who wasn't quite sure what to make of these two. "I'm pretty sure my dad hated me during my first two years of college. Like, ha-TED, I'm kinda surprised he gets so sad that I'm not home much."

"I think it wore off," Brooke concluded dryly.

"Remember when he was buying that condo in North Carolina and he was in the mortgage guy's office and the guy was worried about his credit card debt and dad called me right there from the office on speaker and had the mortgage guy lecture me?"

Tucker owned a condo in North Carolina? Olivia made a mental note to inquire about this later.

Brooke grinned, "Yes, and he told you he wished you were in class so your prof could hear it."

The sisters burst into laughter at the memory. Their glee was contagious and Olivia laughed right along with them.

Hearing the commotion, Carisi poked his head in, "Everything ok in here?"

Olivia composed herself. "Carisi, these are Captain Tucker's daughters, Sarah and Brooke."

"Yeah, uh, we've been introduced," he replied, wondering why on Earth Ed Tucker's very attractive daughters were having a girly chuckle-fest with Benson in the Lieutenant's office.

"Ladies, let's get out of here," Olivia suggested. "Carisi, have a good weekend. Play nicely with Fin."

Carisi, dumbfounded, watched Olivia and the blondes march happily toward the elevator.

Olivia questioned whether or not she should be present for the surprise, but Brooke and Sarah insisted she be there.

"That's why we came to get you from your office," Sarah explained, "you have to be there and you also have to set it up. Can you ask him to meet you for a drink? At that disgusting bar he likes?"

"Sure," Olivia agreed, "but I can't stay long. I have to pick up my son." She reached for her phone, sent Tucker a text, then sent one to Rollins. Noah was with Jessie and her nanny today.

"I can't wait to meet him!" Sarah exclaimed.

Meet him? Olivia glanced at Brooke for clarification.

"We thought maybe we could all do a picnic in the park tomorrow," Brooke explained, "It's supposed to be a beautiful day."

"That sounds great." Olivia's phone pinged, "Your dad is on his way to the bar. Do you want to be there before him?"

Sarah bit her lip, thinking seriously about the intricacies of their surprise. Brooke chewed on a fingernail. This had to be perfectly executed. Olivia couldn't help but smile at the endearing scene.

"I think," Sarah mused, "I think, yeah, he should be there first. Then Olivia can walk in. And we'll just wait outside for a few minutes."

Brooke nodded in agreement.

The three co-conspirators continued to Tucker's favorite Hell's Kitchen dive, conversing non-stop all the way. The sisters regaled Olivia with Tucker tales—he never once approved of a boyfriend, he sent them their favorite junk foods when they were in college, he interrogated them after high school parties, he lavished them with Christmas and birthday gifts, he required Sunday church attendance until they were eighteen, he worried about Brooke teaching in a very rough section of the Bronx, and he carefully researched the safest place for Sarah to live when she moved to Philadelphia. The girls' buoyant nature uplifted Olivia and reinforced her growing love for Tucker. She couldn't wait to see him interact with these two vivacious souls.

From across Ninth Avenue, Olivia thought she spotted Tucker enter the bar, but she couldn't be sure. "Why don't you two wait here?" she suggested. "And I'll text you if he's there."

"Yes," Sarah affirmed. "We don't want him to see us by accident." She gave Olivia her number and smiled with finality. "Ok. Here we go. See you in there."

The three of them nodded, solidifying their alliance. The light changed, and Olivia crossed the street.

Tucker was in his usual spot at the far end of the bar when Olivia walked in. He and an elderly couple were the only patrons. Perfect, she thought.

"Hey," he greeted her, "I thought you had to get Noah early today?"

"Nice to see you too," she teased. He looked down in mock shame. Olivia cupped the back of his head and kissed his cheek.

"Oh my God!" Tucker broke into a broad smile and his face radiated with an elation Olivia had never seen before.

The elderly couple and the equally geriatric bartender jumped, alarmed, as Sarah and Brooke squealed with delight at their father's reaction. They rushed into his embrace. Olivia noticed and was charmed by Tucker's reluctance to release them from the group hug.

"Are you surprised?" Sarah asked, mussing his hair which he had allowed to grow out a bit.

"Um… yes," Ed admitted, a tinge of sarcasm in the reply. He turned to Olivia, "and I'm assuming you were in on this?'

Brooke came to Olivia's defense, "We kind of coerced her."

"We kidnapped her from her office!" Sarah boasted.

"Kidnapped?"

"Well, not really," Sarah explained, "we just showed up so she kinda had no choice."

"You went to the precinct? How did you know where to go?"

"Oh, well, we're sort of stalkers," Brooke confessed, "and Sarah remembered you saying Olivia was in charge of SVU, so, from there, it wasn't hard to find her."

"We figured it was time to introduce ourselves," Sarah added.

"It was awfully easy to get up there," Brooke recalled breezily.

"We name-dropped."

"It's amazing. You say you're Ed Tucker's daughters and you can pretty much do anything you want."

Sarah marveled, "Yeah, the desk sergeant was, like, 'Tucker? From IAB? Absolutely. Gorightahead.' No problem."

Olivia was intrigued. So Tucker had talked about Olivia with his daughters? Interesting.

Tucker's face crinkled into another smile unfamiliar to Olivia, one full of filial affection and pride. "I'm glad I could help," he quipped.

Brooke dangled three tickets in front of Tucker's face. "Look what we got!"

Tucker held the tickets delicately. "Oh, wow," he replied softly, genuinely touched by the gift. "These seats! Wow, girls, you shouldn't have spent so much."

"Here we go," Sarah muttered with a combination of amusement and sarcasm.

Brooke slung an arm around Tucker's shoulders, "Dad, relax. We have jobs. We have money, well," she glanced lovingly at her little sister, "I have money. And we love you, so let us do something nice for you."

"Like go hate on the Sox!" Sarah piped in.

Tucker hugged them again. "Well, thank you. This will be fun."

"And tonight we're taking you to dinner, and tomorrow we're having a picnic in the park with Olivia and Noah," Brooke reported.

Tucker was used to being manhandled by his daughters, especially when they were really dedicated to something. "Sounds good," he said. He waved over the bartender and ordered drinks. Bourbon for him, Irish whiskey for Olivia, a gin and tonic for Sarah, and a Guinness for Brooke.

"Nice work, dad," Brooke remarked.

"Thanks," Tucker passed out the drinks and held up his glass, "To surprises!" They clinked glasses at one another. When he said "surprises," Tucker gazed intently at Olivia. Her heart melted.

"Ok, so, I don't know where we're going tonight, but we need to get everything for tomorrow, so, we'll hit the market before we go home," Sarah barked directions between sips. "Dad, do you have a cooler?"

"Yes."

"Ok great. A big blanket?"

"Just the one on my bed and on the guest bed, and we're not using those."

Olivia chimed in, "I have one."

"Good," Sarah continued, "so Brooke and I will do the food. Olivia has the blanket, we have a cooler. Perfect."

Olivia checked her phone. No text from Rollins demanding that she get Noah, but it was getting late. "Guys," she finished the last of her whiskey, "I have to go."

Disappointment crossed all three of their faces.

"Do you and Noah want to join us for dinner?" Brooke asked.

"No, we better not. He probably hasn't taken a nap today and you three should have some alone time. I'll see you tomorrow."

Sarah and Brooke each hugged Olivia tightly and showered her with gratitude for her impromptu role in their trickery. Tucker then pulled her close and kissed her lightly on the lips. "Bye," he said softly. "About eleven tomorrow? We'll come by and get you two?"

"Sounds good."

As soon as Olivia disappeared through the heavy oak door, the girls let loose their restrained giggles.

"Omigod, omigod, omigod, Dad is in looooove," Sarah purred.

"He's blushing," observed Brooke.

Tucker shook his head and rolled his eyes, but…they were both right.

"Dad," Brooke turned serious, "She. Is. Awesome."

"And hot!" Sarah chimed in.

Right again.

"Ok, girls," Tucker grumbled good-naturedly, "Where are we eating?"

Now cuddled up in Sarah's lap, Noah began to doze off. Sarah shifted him around and cradled him as if he were an infant.

"He sure warmed up to you two quickly," Olivia remarked.

"Well, we did bring him the train," Brooke said.

"And the football," added Sarah.

Brooke smiled triumphantly, "We are the types of people who buy the love of the people in our lives."

"Dad, did you bring the Uno deck?"

Tucker rummaged through the contents of his backpack and produced the cards.

"Olivia?" Sarah inquired seriously, "Do you play Uno well?"

"I do." Olivia was equally stern.

"Well, it is battle royale then," Sarah challenged, then turned to Tucker, "Dad, is the scoresheet still in there?"

"Of course." Tucker slid the cards from the box and out fell a folded sheet of lined paper. He unfolded it and, squinting, reported the statistics, "Sarah, 322. Brooke, 400. Dad, 398. Hmmmm," Tucker pondered slyly, "I could take the lead today."

"How long have you been tallying your wins?" Olivia asked, amazed.

"About fifteen years," Tucker calculated. "And we've only had to transfer the scores to different paper three times. The creases wore out once."

"And then Brooke spilled beer on the last one," Sarah finished for him. "Jeez, Brooke, you are prone to spills," she taunted. With that came the story of last New Year's Eve, the day Brooke spilled the beer all over the tally sheet, nearly destroying it. The girls bantered back and forth, directing playful barbs at one another and, occasionally, at Tucker.

Immune to the friendly ribbing, Tucker smirked, repacked the food, moved the cooler to the edge of the blanket, and began dealing the cards.

Olivia noticed Sarah struggling to play one-handed. "Sarah, let's just put him down. I have his blankets right here. Olivia reached into her own backpack and pulled out two fleece blankets. She rolled one into a makeshift pillow and placed it next to her.

Tucker stood up, scooped the sleeping boy from Sarah's lap, and carefully placed him on the blanket next to Olivia who draped the second blanket over her son. Tucker affectionately patted Noah's head and returned to inspect the hand he'd dealt himself.

"Ok, ladies," he challenged, "Game on."

They went about playing cards, trash-talking, and sipping what was left of the rosé. The Tuckers were fierce competitors, and Olivia's own drive to win blended seamlessly with theirs. They played until Noah awoke, and Brooke and Sarah engaged him in another round of toddler soccer.

"Oh, Dad," Brooke stopped Tucker before he closed the Uno box and spoke matter-of-factly, "don't forget to put Olivia's wins on that sheet. She had five."

Olivia was so touched, she nearly burst into tears of gratitude. Tucker dutifully clicked his pen and wrote in Olivia's stats. He knew she was on the verge of becoming emotional, and he also knew she would not want to have a breakdown, even a good breakdown, in front of Brooke and Sarah and in the middle of the park.

"I cannot believe her" Tucker murmured, "keeping track of the number of games each of us won in her head like that." He snickered. "She's the one who should've been an accountant."

Olivia smiled at him and thanked him with a kiss. She leaned back against Tucker and the two of them watched Brooke and Sarah play keep-away with Noah. The sun had begun its descent over Manhattan's western skyline, casting shadows over those still remaining in the park. Olivia took deep breaths and mentally catalogued for future use the individual moments of this perfect day.

"You ok?" Tucker asked softly.

"Ed, I am so happy right now."

"Me too," he kissed the top of her head, "me too."

I enjoyed writing…hope you enjoyed reading! #Tuckson forever