Part Two - Cragen

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Her fist rose and fell several times as she tried to work up the courage to knock. She had barely remembered the address, double-checking it twice in her phone contacts to make sure.

Even in the darkness of the evening, she had found her way eventually.

The doorman had been kind enough to let her in, assuming it was probably because she looked like hell. Maybe he could tell she was coming to deliver bad news and didn't want to add even more of a hard time. Or, maybe he just didn't care. It was New York after all. Not everyone had the skill of reading faces such as she did; nor did they have the capacity to care.

How many times would she have to knock on someone's door? Ruin someone's day? Pick up the phone and having to end the call after gutting one of her friends with bad news? The longer she thought about it, the longer the list grew. Better yet, when would the news finally sink into her own mind? She hadn't mastered the art of distraction, though she was fairly good at it. Still, she could only drink so many cups of coffee and clean out her inbox before there would be no distraction left and she'd need to face reality.

Finally, her fist made contact with the wood of the front door, alerting with the softest knock. She waited a few moments, balancing her weight from one foot to the other in anticipation. She chewed at her thumbnail, listening to the sound of footsteps growing closer.

"Olivia?" Captain Cragen asked as he swung the door open. She wasn't usually a sight he would see standing at his doorstep, but she was always welcomed. He must've quickly been able to read her expression because his shoulders softened and he kept himself from asking her what was wrong. "Would you like to come in?" he asked cautiously.

Surprising herself, she nodded. She had sworn it would be a quick drop by, no exchange of formalities. She had sworn a lot of things, she should've known by now that the universe always had a different plan... even if it was something as small as walking into someone's apartment. There was a reason why she had planned otherwise. It wasn't her intention to explain every rigid detail of why she was showing up to his home. She came to ask a question; a favor... that was it.

He stepped aside, allowing her to walk down the narrow hallway with her head hung low. "I'm sorry I didn't call ahead of time," she mumbled monotonously, sitting down across from him as he led her to the couch.

"Don't worry about it. Can I get you something? Would you like something to drink?" by the skittishness of his mannerisms, she could tell he wasn't used to company. That was okay, neither was she.

"Uh... no, no thank you," she replied, seating herself on the edge of the sofa with her body held tightly together. She didn't want to take up space; not when she already felt like a burden.

She stared down at the upholstery of the couch. It was a faded and outdated floral pattern, yet somehow it meshed nicely with the build of the place. It felt like a home; a safe haven of warmth that suited better than the folded up cot in his office.

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