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What Chance

TITLE: WHAT CHANCE

E-MAIL: adrienne_miranda@yahoo.com

FANDOM: Law and Order SVU

PAIRING: Alex Cabot / Olivia Benson

DATE: October 28, 2003 - November 30, 2003

FEEDBACK: Yes, please. We’d love to know whether you like this or not!!!

ARCHIVE: Ok, just let us know where.

RATING: Nothing beyond TV-level-graphic-ness. If same-sex relationships bother you though, you might want to read something else.

LEGAL STUFF: Copyrighted 2003 by Adrienne Lee and Miranda Rafferty. Non-original characters, if applicable, are used without permission under “Fair Use” doctrine. Authors reserve all rights attached to all original aspects of this work. This is a work of fiction.

SUMMARY FOR STORY: The detective is obsessed.

SPOILER: Post “Loss”. There also might be other bits and pieces from various episodes.

NEXT STORY: WHAT CHANGE

There was a message on her answering machine when Olivia got out of the shower this morning.

"Not even 6:30 yet. Jesus, who the f..." she groused, and hit the play button.

"Olivia, honey."

She cringed when she heard the voice.

"Darling, this is Mrs. Cabot."

**Don't think I'm ready...** She poised her finger over the stop button.

"I was wondering if you will be spending Thanksgiving with us this year." She explained sweetly.

"Damn!" Olivia had forgotten all about their promise. "How am I going to get out of this?"

"Perhaps you and I could spend the day at the foundation. The children really enjoyed your visit last year. Then of course you will spend the weekend? You and I didn't get much chance to talk..."

**At Alex's supposed funeral.** Olivia finished the sentence for her.

"Please call and let me know by Tuesday." Her tone became distant, "Thank you for your time, Detective."

"Friday. Six ten a.m." The machine announced.

Olivia really wasn't ready for this. Thanksgiving Day at the Destin Foundation had been a mother daughter ritual since Alex turned 13. Olivia was all set to spend the day with Elliot, Kathy and their kids last year. Then, out of the blue, Mrs. Cabot invited her. Mrs. Cabot told her the children would enjoy a visit from a real-life detective. As some of the kids were going through their "I wanna be a cop when I grow up" phase, Alex explained.

Mrs. Cabot. That was the way she introduced herself to Olivia when they met last year. And Olivia never asked Alex what her first name was. Sort of like she never asked about Sister Mary Christopher's name. Was her given name Mary Christopher? Or was Christopher her last name? One just did not ask their first grade homeroom teacher to clarify her name, no matter what.

When Olivia first met Alex's mother, she was surprised. She hadn't really met anyone quite like Mrs. Cabot, so she looked to the television. She had expected her to be like Lorelei Gilmore's mother in Gilmore Girls, but maybe not quite so superficial. Since Alex was anything but superficial, and she never could stop talking about how much influence her mother had on her. If the detective were pressed to compare, Mrs. Cabot sort of reminded her of a combination of Dr. Carter and his grandmother on ER. Sort of. She just looked like Catherine Deneuve. Mrs. Cabot was a little cool and distant at times, which Olivia racked up to decorum. She was very nice and very kind. But she made Olivia really nervous.

The Destin Foundation was well run. She could tell when they first walked into the building. The structure was very modern. Clean lines, but warm and welcoming. Instead of expensive artwork, along the corridors were professionally matted and framed pictures the residents had done . One wall was covered entirely in tiny handprints in every color imaginable. This might be a facility, but it was one completely for and about children. The receptionist recognized Alex immediately, and they launched into a friendly chatter. That gave Olivia a chance to look around, and see the interactions of the staff and the kids under their care.

Olivia had expected to go in, show the children her badge, and answer any questions they might have. Instead, they played Cowboys and Indians.

**Cowboy and Indians.** Olivia corrected. She was the lone cowboy, who let herself be captured by the indians. It was nice to be around kids who weren't abused or neglected, who were happy and loved.

**It was fun...** She smiled wistfully.

Alex played the chief's advisor. And she kept whispering to the little girl who played the chief, **No doubt giving her torture suggestions.** They were merciless. It was amazing how easily children could be entertained.

**... for hours.** She shook her head. **It's amazing to see Alex laugh so freely, to see her let her guard down...** She took a deep breath, and swallowed.

Memory of Alex convincing the chief to set their captive free, and let Olivia join them for the Thanksgiving meal, made her smile. Dinner with the children was fun... Sitting on kid-sized chairs and trying to fit their adult legs under the children's table was even fun... **Being with Alex was...**

Her reminiscense turned to the next morning, when she and Alex played their own version of cowboy and indian...

Olivia woke up, and looked over to Alex's side through half closed eyes. She was already awake, and occupied by a stack of papers. Probably going over some contracts Mrs. Cabot's attorney drafted, the detective thought.

Moving quickly, she threw back the covers and soon straddled the half prone form. Her fingers found the sensitive spots just below Alex's ribs, and began to tickle her unmercifully.

The blonde was squirming and squealing. "Olivia, please don't do this." She cried between hysterical laughter. "This is so unfair." She complained, and tried to push her captor off without success.

Alex collapsed onto her pillows and lay breathless as the tickling onslaught continued. Without warning, Olivia took her wrists and held them over her head. She reached over to the chair and grabbed the belt of Alex's silk robe. With it, she bound her hands to the headboard.

"Liv," She tried to catch her breath. "What do you think you're doing? Stop that." Alex struggled.

"We're going to play a little game. Revenge of the bad cowboy on the chief's advisor."

"What do you mean?" Alex asked aprehensively. "Untie me right now."

"You told a bunch of six year olds all my ticklish places..." Olivia smiled at her wickedly. "This is payback time..."

"You've already tickled me to death. That's not payback enough?" Alex panted. "What worse can you do to me?"

The look in the dark eyes told Alex everything she needed to know.

"Olivia, you wouldn't... Not in my mother's house..."

"Oh, yes, I would..." She grinned roguishly, "And I am..." and proceeded to show Alex exactly what kind of revenge she meant.

Olivia smiled as she thought of the things she did to Alex, bringing her close and then slowing down... Time and time again... Until she begged for mercy or release... The image of Alex pulling against the the silken ties that bound her... Arching her body into Olivia's hands, as she brought her closer... and closer..."

Her phone rang. "Benson." She answered, and shook herself from her reverie. "I'll be right there." She did a u-turn away from the station's parking lot. "Saved by the perp." She sighed at the irony. But allowed the smirk to linger...

They must have scandalized the entire Cabot household. **How Alex blushed...** When after they showered and dressed, they opened the bedroom door to find a breakfast tray outside of the door. And Edith, the housekeeper, refused to look either of them in the eye that day...

"Oh, hell." She made a mental note to call Mrs. Cabot later.

***************************************************************************************************************************

"What's this?" She asked as she flopped down onto her chair. She had just come back from talking to the victim's classmates and teachers. Poor Elliot was still at the hospital with the girl's parents, waiting for her to wake up. Third assault in almost as many weeks. Same wounds, same MO. This was the first victim he had left alive. Maybe the perp was getting sloppy. There was hope.

"Bernie, your secret mail room admirer, brought it up yesterday morning." Munch looked up, and offered. "He was crushed when we told him it was your day off."

"I wouldn't call an emergency hearing a day off..." Olivia replied sullenly. She hadn't had a real break for weeks. "Huh. Amazon," she saw the unmistakable logo. "I don't remember ordering anything from Amazon."

"You might wanna be careful with that." Fin chimed in as Olivia opened the package. "You might not want us findin' out what's in that box."

"What, me?" Olivia glanced up and wagged her eyebrows, "You're the porno king."

"Hey, I'm just sayin'..." Fin raised his hands in defense.

"What the hell?" Olivia exclaimed as she pulled out the internal carton. "I definitely did not order an AT&T cell phone."

"That's why your desk kept ringing, we thought you left your phone here, or somethin'."

"Say, don't you have to activate those things before you can use them?" Munch asked, suddenly serious.

"You better call downstairs, Olivia." Fin suggested, also concerned.

"Yeah." Olivia agreed, and dialed the lab's extension. "Derrick, got a moment? I need you to check out a cell phone for me."

***************************************************************************************************************************

Olivia sat staring at the phone, and tapping her pen on the desk. She had missed one call while she was out chasing another false lead. "Who'd sent me this damn phone?" She grumbled.

Derrick Walker, the senior technician, walked in and handed her a thin manilla folder. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Detective. It seems like half the department is out sick, and the other half took the week off. So the rest of us are swamped."

Olivia flipped open the folder and looked at the single sheet of paper. "This is it? You've had all day to check out the phone, and there's nothing but this?"

"I don't know what you want me to say, Detective. It's not rigged. Not bugged. It's just a phone, a completely clean phone."

"No prints?"

"No usable prints. It's a throwaway phone, Detective. Maybe whoever put your order together had too much time on their hands, or they were just trying to be nice and set it up for you."

"Yeah, right."

"We copied down your number, so maybe you can dump it or something. Or find out who bought it, I'm sure the company has the records. But if it's a perp like you suspected, I'm sure they didn't use their own credit card. Or maybe they just recycled the packaging. And it might not even be from Amazon, though the packing slip sure looks authentic..."

"Tell me something I don't know." She snapped.

"I'm not sure what you were expecting me to tell you, Detective. That's all there is. You've got a first class

mystery on your hands. Now, I've got a job to do. If you need anything else, you know where to find me."

"I'm sorry," She apologized, and graced him with a contrite smile. "Thanks, Derrick. I'll let you know if I need anything else."

"Ok, good luck." He backed away from her desk. When he was sure she wasn't looking, he fled.

"Olivia, maybe you should call Amazon." Munch spoke up. "Maybe they had some database mix-up and sent you someone else's order."

"Yeah, I should," Benson looked at her colleague. "I don't know why I didn't think of that."

"You're probably so tired, you can't think straight. Why don't you go home and get some sleep."

She had been up for what, 32, 36 hours now? Once she got passed 30, she stopped keeping track.

"Maybe you're right..." She started to say, then her phone rang. "Ok, Elliot, I'll be right over."

"Damn it!" Olivia said under her breath, as she threw the file and the phone into her desk drawer. She picked up her coat and left.

***************************************************************************************************************************

It was almost daybreak when she got back to the precinct. To her surprise, Munch was already there. He had on fresh clothing, so she assumed he just decided to get an early start.

"Why aren't you home?" She ventured.

"I could ask you the same."

She shrugged, sat down at her desk and took the pre-paid phone out of the drawer. She stared blankly at it.

"Olivia, why don't you go grab some breakfast. You look like you could use a break." Munch suggested and tried his version of a smile.

"No, thanks. I'm not hungry." She said without looking away, as if trying to will the phone to ring. About the time her eyes started to cross, Elliot popped in and handed her a cup of coffee. "Come on, there's been another assault. The vic's concious and willing to talk. We may have an ID." He explained as they rushed out the door.

"Hi guys. Bye guys." Fin greeted the detectives as their paths crossed. "How'you doin', my friend?" He dropped a bag small paper bag in front of his partner.

"Much better now." He opened the bag, and inhaled. "Mmmm... Still hot... You're too good to me, Fin."

"Yup, nothin' but the best for my pardner." He mumbled around a mouthful of fresh doughnut. "Still working on that thing?"

"Just finished." Munch closed the folder and sat back in his chair. He took a bite of the sweet treat, letting the warm sugar melt slowly in his mouth.

"That one," Fin tossed his head towards the direction of Olivia's desk. "She looks like she's about to crack."

"You have no idea." Munch looked at his partner, and took another bite. As if on cue, Olivia's drawer started ringing. Perhaps better said, the phone was ringing.

Fin shook his head, and picked up his coffee cup, "I ain't touchin' this one. Benson's on her own."

"You're a wise man." Munch smiled, and concentrated on his breakfast. Meanwhile, the phone continued to ring in the drawer. The standard Mozart G-minor Symphony tone sounded almost forlorn. After several bars, it stopped.

***************************************************************************************************************************

Late that evening, Olivia went back to the squad room and sat down at her desk. She threw away the day old cup of coffee, and leaned back in her chair with her eyes closed.

It was strange being in the precinct this time of the night. It was quiet, almost all of the lights were out. She sat back up straight, and unlocked her desk drawer. Pulling out the phone, she looked at the display. "Hell!" She almost yelled. She'd missed two calls. "If you're trying to run me nuts, you're succeeding, you asshole."

"Why don't you leave a message?" She asked in a softer tone. Then it occurred to her she never set up the voice mail. "You're doing just great, Benson."

"Do you often talk to yourself, Detective?"

She nearly jumped out of her skin, and quickly turned to see George Huang looking at her with concern.

"Just tired, George." She wasn't lying. Her eyes felt red and gritty. Her body ached, and her head was killing her. She hadn't slept well in weeks, not since...

"Olivia, I know these last few cases have been difficult for you. Perhaps you should take a vacation?" It sounded more like a command than a suggestion.

"Yeah, Olivia, why don't you? You have enough vacation time built up." The Captain walked up from behind with his briefcase in hand. He and Huang must have been talking.

Olivia sat up in her chair. **Yup, doing just great,** she scolded herself silently. She didn't even noticed his office light on.

"Please, I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself. Trust me, I'm fine." She tried to convince the men. She needed to stay busy. Time off would just make things worse. "I promise, if I need a little time away or something, Capt'n, I'll let you know." She gave him her most winning smile and tried to look calm.

"All right for now." Cragen softened, "Are you okay?" He appraised Olivia with concern, more worry lines on his face than usual.

"Yes, I'm fine, really. I just need to go home and get a good night's sleep."

"Why don't you leave the phone here? Or you'll just stay up all night wondering if it'll ring."

She grinned sheepishly and nodded. "Yeah, probably so."

"How's the case going?"

"We caught the last guy. But he had credible alibis for the earlier assaults," she sighed. "So Elliot is going back to the hospital in a couple of hours to wait."

"Any chance of her waking up?"

"They don't know. But she's all we have right now."

Cragen nodded in understanding and agreement. "God, you and Elliott are two of a kind. Worrying over a case like a dog with a bone." He said and smiled at her. "It's part of what makes you such a good team. You take care of yourself. I don't want to see you here before 10:00 tomorrow morning. Understood?" He said, concern and determination still obvious in his expression.

"Yes, Capt'n." She said quietly, admitting defeat.

"Come on, Detective," Huang looked at her meaningfully. "I'll give you a ride home." He insisted.

She knew she had no choice but to follow them out. But while they weren't watching, she slipped the phone into her pocket.

***************************************************************************************************************************

The next morning, Olivia walked out into a new day. The sun was shining, the homeless man begging, a street hustler trying to make a little money.

Elliot was waiting for her. He leaned over and pushed the door open. "How'bout a ride?" He asked.

"You look cheerful. Good news?"

"There was another attack earlier this morning. 14 year old on her way to school. Same neighborhood. Same school. He grabbed her." A smile threatened to break from Elliot's face.

So Olivia decided it must have been good news. "And?"

"Lucky for us, and not so lucky for him, she just got her red belt in hapkido. She kept him down until the cops came."

"Oh?"

"He might not be using it ever again."

"Oh!" The look on Elliot said it all. "DNA?"

"Prelim result's a match. Perp fessed up as soon as Novak told him that." Stabler replied, visably relieved. "We just need to wait for the final test and finish up the paper work."

"Finally."

"Yup, finally." He turned to look at his partner, "We ready?"

"Hey, Elliot," Olivia asked hesitantly, "Can we make a stop on the way? Is that a problem? I mean, are you in a real hurry?"

"Nope. Where do we need to stop?"

"The little phone store around the block."

"Okay..." He let it trail off.

He must have known this phone thing was running her nuts. In fact, everyone seemed to be concerned.

**Why is my business becoming everyone else's?** Olivia wondered briefly. She knew it was because they cared. And she tried to give them cheery smiles... which, for all she knew, might have came across as mad grimaces... which probably was causing more concern.

**I hate being treated with kid gloves.** No one else got babied when they had a problem. They just took them out to get drunk, or shoot pool. Suddenly, they were being all sensitive and attentive. The next person who asked her if she was okay was going to make her scream. She swore. It was irrational, she knew. But, oh well. They all would just have to trust her.

Olivia was glad her partner decided to let the subject drop. She didn't want to get into it either. She certainly didn't need him on her back about this.

Elliot stopped in front of the store and waited. Olivia stepped out, and came back with a small package after a few minutes.

"Ready, when you are." She climbed in, and began to tear apart the plastic wrapper using her teeth and fingers. Soon, she was connecting the phone to the battery charger, and plugging it into the cigarette lighter. Olivia tossed the wrapper out the window and into the trash can at the street corner. Then, she realized the car had not moved. And Elliot was watching her with a questioning look.

"Whatever it is, Elliot, don't say it." She warned with a hint of anger in her voice.

Stabler's look changed to surprise at her tone. He must have decided to ignore the whole situation. He started the car and drove on through the traffic.

"Just talk to me if you need to. It won't go any further." As they approached the station, he said. "I'm worried about you, Olivia."

"Thanks, Elliot. But I'm ok." She stepped out of the car.

"Liv..." He tried again, as he approach the side walk.

"I just wish everyone would mind their own damn business, and leave me alone." She said, as she walked ahead of him into the station. The conversation effectively stopped then.

**********************************************************************************************************************

Munch met Olivia at her desk. "I worked on this while you were gone." He handed her a manilla folder.

Olivia looked at him, and then the folder, then took the file from him wordlessly.

"I hope it helps."

She said down in her chair and started reading. "Vivian Darkbloom!" She exclaimed, clearly exasperated. "Who the hell is that?"

"It's an anagram for the author, Vladimir Nabokov." Casey happened by, and overheard. "He wrote Lolita. Surely you've read Lolita. I thought everyone here would have."

"Did you know that Vivian Darkbloom was not in the novel," Munch engaged Casey in the conversation. "Even though she was in Kubrick's version of the movie?"

"Are you always this full of information, Detective Munch?" the ADA laughed.

"Yup, that's me," Munch nodded, "An endless font of trivia."

"So, what's up with Vivian Darkbloom? You have a literate pervert or are you working a crossword puzzle?" Casey asked.

"Just a puzzling situation," Munch answered for Olivia. "Not a case. So, what brings you here?"

"Oh, I need to go over some things with the detectives about this morning's suspect." Novak turned to Elliot and Olivia. "Want to meet me in there?" She motioned towards the Captain's office.

"Guess this will have to wait." Olivia sighed softly. She put the folder in her desk drawer, and followed Elliot.

Munch and Fin exchanged a brief look, and went back to work.

***************************************************************************************************************************

During the conference, Olivia tried to focus on the case at hand. But whenever she wasn't talking, her mind would return to the latest revelation.

**Good ol' Munch, always watching my back.** She really did appreciate his help. First with her mom's case, and now, with her obsession.

**So, a Vivian Darkbloom bought my phone... Vivian Darkbloom... Vladimir Nabokov... Lolita... Waitaminute!** Her thoughts came to a screeching halt at the possible connection...

"I've never read it." Alex confessed, looking a little embarrassed. "So I picked it up the other day." She put the book back in her desk drawer.

"Really?" Olivia was surprised. "It's a good book. Very lyrical actually."

"You've read it?"

"Yeah," she chuckled, "It's the story of my life."

"Really?" Leaning forward, Alex crossed her arms and rested her elbows on her desk.

"Really." The detective tried hard not to stare. "Well, not exactly."

"I'm assuming you weren't Humbert Humbert?"

"No light of my life? No fire of my loins?" She joked. "No, I was 17."

Alex laughed, perhaps a little too loudly.

"What?" She felt suddenly warm.

The ADA looked at her appraisingly, "I don't think I ever saw you as Dolores Haze either."

It was Olivia's turn to laugh, "That's for me to know, Counselor."

Alex cleared her throat, and got up from her seat, "So, where are we going for lunch?"

**That was so lame, Olivia.** She smirked, still not sure if Alex picked up her early miserable attempt at flirting with her. **Then again, maybe she did...**

Olivia glanced around surreptitiously, **Good, no one noticed...** She sat up straighter in her chair and refocused herself. **Ok, the sooner we finish here, the sooner I can get back...**

**********************************************************************************************************************

"I didn't know you're a personal friend of Emily's" Munch said softly, as she walked by his desk.

"What?" Olivia stopped and whirled around.

"Dickinson." Munch looked up at her, "She's been calling you on your phone. I ran the number earlier. Didn't think you got to that part of the report yet."

Olivia felt like her knees were going to buckle. It was as if someone had punched her in the stomach. **It couldn't be... Or could it... It has to be...** She quickly caught herself, and was back in control.

"I'm an idiot." She grinned widely. "Thanks, John. I love you," and pecked him on the cheek.

Fin was watching her with a questioning look.

"What?" She asked, still smiling.

"What ever he did, I helped, too." He smirked.

"You know I can't go around passing out kisses. Everyone might want one." She winked, and moved towards her seat.

When she had turned away, Fin and Munch looked at each other and then at Elliot. They shrugged.

Elliot stood up, "You guys want to go get some lunch?"

"Sure, sounds good. How about you, Fin?" Munch asked.

"Yeah, there's a new Thai place down the street, how'bout that? Hey, Liv, you gonna join us?" He asked casually.

Olivia looked at all of them smiling, and trying so hard not to look obvious. She shook her head, sighed and put on her jacket. "Sure. I've got to eat sometime, don't I?"

Elliot motioned for her to walk out the door first, and they all followed.

A few seconds later, Olivia ran back into the squad room. She pulled the pre-paid phone out of her desk drawer. **Please let me be right.** She said a silent prayer, pressed the phone to her lips quickly, and slipped it into her pocket.

"Wait up, guys!" She called, and caught up with her friends just as the elevator arrived.

*******************************************************************************************************************

Olivia was heading out, when she saw Casey Novak at the end of the hall. "Hey, Casey!"

The ADA stopped and turned around. She waited expectantly for Olivia to approach. "Yes, Detective. What is it?"

"Do you like opera?"

Casey looked at her strangely. Olivia knew it was a odd question to ask.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. Why?"

Olivia pulled out her wallet, and got out two slips of paper. "It's two tickets to the Met. Next Saturday, second to last Marriage of Figaro of the season."

"Thanks. But why?" She asked.

"I can't use them, and someone should enjoy them." The detective explained. "Besides, you helped me out a lot lately. Consider it my way of saying thank you."

"Kind of an extravagant thank you... Especially when I'm just doing my job." She added earnestly. "But okay, if you're sure you can't use them."

"No, I'm busy that night." Olivia said unconvincingly. "Go ahead and have a good time... with someone you care about." She added under her breath.

"What ...?"

"Nothing, just have a good time."

Casey took the extended ticket and smiled, "Serena will love these."

"Serena?" Olivia asked. She knew of only one Serena, the hot blonde ADA... "You know Serena?"

Casey laughed, "Yes, we've been together since law school. I thought everyone knew."

"You've got to be kidding me. What is it, you have to be a lesbian to be an ADA in this city?" Olivia blurted out, amazed.

"Well, I don't think so." Casey responded thoughtfully, "McCoy isn't one."

"What? Oh yeah." She said and laughed. "Anyway, I gotta run. Good night."

"Good night, Olivia. Thanks again."

"Sure, see you tomorrow." She continued walking towards the door.

"Hey, Olivia?"

"Yeah, Casey?" She turned around.

"I didn't ask you if you killed Gorman because I didn't need to."

"Oh."

"Good night."

"Good night, Casey." She watched the ADA turned the corner, and let out a deep breath. Olivia was relieved.

She was also relieved that their conversation weeks ago was about Casey trying to fit in, and learning her new job... and not some fishing expedition...

**My God.** The detective thought to herself, amused. **Does Arthur Branch have some sort of fetish? Never mind...** She had enough to think about.

*******************************************************************************************************************

Olivia picked up an order of chicken fried rice from the Chinese take out near her apartment building. She practically ran home. Hurriedly, she changed into comfortable sweats and tee. Then she grabbed some orange juice from the fridge, and sat the glass on the coffee table along with her dinner. She took the pre-paid phone out of her pants pocket and put it down next to her on the sofa. Now all she had to do was eat her dinner, and wait for the phone to ring.

She waited and waited, and waited some more. She did the dishes and waited, she watched a movie and waited. There was nothing on but infomercials, and still she waited.

Four o'clock that morning, Mozart startled her from sleep.

"Jesus." She jerked awake and knocked the phone off onto the floor. She scrambled for it, frantically trying to reach it, knocking over the coffee table in the process. Magazines and newspaper went everywhere. Olivia finally got hold of the phone and hit accept.

"Hello?" Olivia answered uncertainly.

"Hello, Olivia, it's Jamie." The voice said. "Jaime O'Brien." It sounded familiar, reminding her of blonde hair, soft skin, and so many other things she longed for.

"Oh, Jaime. Hi, Jamie. Jamie, I haven't heard from you in such a long time. How have you been, Jamie?"

She used the name several times, trying to imprint a strange name to an all too familiar and much missed voice.

"Did I wake you?" Jamie asked.

"It doesn't matter. I've missed you." She said.

"I've missed you, too. Can you talk for a while, or are you too tired. I can call back."

"We can talk as long as you want. Don't you dare call back!" Olivia said anxiously, afraid to lose the tenuous contact. "I'll talk to you forever." She realized everything that came out of her mouth was pure mush; but she didn't care.

Jamie laughed brightly on the other end of the line, "I don't think we have that much time, but this is a nice start."

"So, tell me. How have you been? How's life been treating you?" Olivia asked.

She settled back into the couch, and listened to Jamie tell her everything that was going on.

She didn't need to say anything. She just needed to hear her friend's voice...

And her world was complete...

At least for the moment...

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