Alexa fingered the invitation for the thousandth time as they sped down the interstate, and removed it from the envelope. "How big a deal is this, Mike?" she asked him. "I mean, I thought promotions just happened all the time, like senior officer to vice president or something. Is being made Captain so unusual?"
He glanced over at her for a second. "Not really, sweet. I mean, it happens a lot, in any precinct. But for Lennie, well, he's been at this for a long time. He was up there in years when we were partners, then they gave him Sergeant a year or two ago, but he should have been made Captain a long time back. You know his story, the drinking set him back, they wouldn't promote him. But he's been sober eight years now. So the precinct's not doing any kind of special ceremony, but his girlfriend thought it was appropriate to throw this wingding. I agree."
"But you haven't even been in much contact with them down there since we moved. Five years can be a long time."
"Then it's definitely overdue," he told her. "We shoulda come down as soon as Caitlin was born. I can't remember why we didn't."
Alexa did. "I can't believe you forgot. You were doing that sting operation and they had to sneak you in with that bizarre disguise just to visit me and her in the hospital. You'd think in Rochester we'd at least be able to get you away from work long enough to see your daughter being born."
Mike glanced in the rear view mirror. "They're asleep, at least."
She looked over her shoulder and pulled the blankets up on the car seats. "Yeah. Kind of nice, having a few minutes quiet."
He took his hand from the wheel and squeezed hers. "She looks just like you, you know that."
Alexa nodded, and laced her fingers around his and repeated her half of the oft-mentioned statement. "Yeah, but she got your hair."
He laughed quietly, and they drove on in silence toward the bridge into Manhattan. Lennie Briscoe's promotion party wasn't scheduled until later that night, so they would have several hours to stop in at the precinct and around town, show off the kids, and drop them off at his father's house for the evening. Alexa stared out the window at the highway peeling by. Five years, she thought, a lot can happen in five years. Five years ago Mike's mom had been alive to see him married off. "This is the blonde chick you asked about," Mike had said when he first introduced her to his parents. Five years ago Mike Logan had still been the most promising detective at the 27th precinct. And was, until, already frayed by a night spent keeping his son quiet so Alexa could finally catch a few hours rest, a smart-mouthed, homophobic politician had unraveled him to the point where Mike popped him in the mouth on the courthouse steps.
"Of all the people you've run into, Mike, why him?" she had asked him, changing the ice on his knuckles later that night, before the shit completely hit the fan.
He'd shaken his head miserably. "If I had a clue I'd take it back. I've been more pissed off before....but it was like there was this crowd I was trying to hold back, and they were pushing me, and he's screaming at them, and I told him to shut his hole, and then he tried to act like I was really on his side...that sonofabitch is a killer, and he just got off. And he has no idea he did anything wrong, or he doesn't care. And something about that attitude...and I just snapped. I was wired all day. God, I hope they don't make a stink about it."
But they had. The papers had blown it out of all proportion, and finally Cragen had called him in and told him if he didn't resign they were going to demote him. Mike ranted and raved and threw things, and, when he caught his breath, a calm had come over him. Leaving the city, with a new wife and kid was probably the best thing he could do. So they had moved to Rochester, about twenty minutes from Alexa's adopted family, and he'd kept his detective rank with their police force. Less brutality, better hours. Mike admitted he missed a lot of the excitement, and he really missed the hot dogs, but he was smart enough to know an exchange had to be made. And this one had been worth it for him. Rochester, in its own way, was corrupt enough for him to deal with, and he'd made Sergeant just a little over a year ago.
Five years ago there hadn't been a Caitlin; she'd come along just two years ago, their second child, and that was when Alexa had felt her own kind of peace settle. Four of them felt perfectly square, perfectly complete. Alexa had put her music on hold until Caitlin was a year, then picked up where she had left off, and signed a deal just a few months previous with a small independent label in Connecticut that would let her record locally and tour only if she wanted to. It didn't bring much money, but Alexa also acknowledged that exchanges had to be made. Downscale, she thought. Not eliminate.
The precinct was bustling and noisy, as was to be expected, but the children bore it well, having gotten used to the chaos of policemen since birth. Mike had taken them into his office multiple times to show them off, and they stood the noise and confusion for about fifteen minutes before Caitlin started to fidget.
Alexa stepped over to Mike, who was surrounded by his old co-workers slapping him on the back, offering him cold coffee, telling him Rochester was making him soft. "Hey," she said, slipping an arm around his waist. "Let me decide if he's going soft or not," she told them, and he laughed heartily.
"Time?" he asked, knowing the tolerance level of the children.
She nodded. "Sorry, but you can play with the other kids on the playground all night tonight, okay?"
He turned to her. "See you guys later," and pointed at Detective Profaci. "You, stay out of trouble. Tell Lennie I'm sorry we missed him, we'll see him later, okay?"
Outside, each with a child attached to them, Mike said, "Okay, your turn. Where next?"
She smiled at him.

---

"She's gorgeous," Claire said, taking Caitlin, who was rubbing her eyes, into her arms. "She looks just like you, Alexa."
Mike laughed. "That's what I keep telling her, and she keeps making cracks about my hair."
Claire studied the little girl's shiny black locks. "Oh, yeah, Mike. She's got that curse." She smiled down at the little boy hiding behind his father's legs. "He's going undercover, Mike, don't move."
Alexa laughed and scooped him up. "He's just been a little shy all day, meeting so many new people. Mike, you want to stay here a minute until Claire decides she's had enough?"
"That could be a while," Claire laughed, and started talking to the two-year old.
Mike waved her on. "You go ahead, we'll catch up." He looked at Claire. "Fifteen minutes is their limit with new people, so we have to get in, say hi, cute everyone up, then duck out again before they get creepy."
"Which way....?" Alexa wondered, and Claire pointed her down the hall.
"You know. Adam's old office." Her eyes met Alexa's. "He doesn't know you're in town."

---

When he said it was all right to come in, the door swung wide and a five-year old boy came shuffling in, staring at the wood paneling, the books, the bright green banker's light on the desk, turning around and around, his knuckles in his mouth. His mother followed him in and gave him a look he knew well, and the fist, wet and sloppy, shot behind his back. "Mr. Stone," Alexa said, and waited in the middle of the room.
Ben stood slowly. She had been so far from his thoughts for so long that seeing Alexa just stride into his office without warning felt unreal, as if he had invented her from some subconscious, long-forgotten wish. "Alexa," he said quietly, stepping around his desk. And then he saw her little boy.
She leaned over, resting her hands on the child's shoulders, and her hair fell down in a curtain around them both. "Go ahead," she told him. "Introduce yourself."
The little boy strode fearlessly over to the man, who he really wasn't afraid of; those funny glasses he was wearing reminded him of his grandpa back home, and stuck out his hand like his mother had taught him. "Hello, Sir," he enunciated slowly. Ben crouched down and took the small hand in his.
Ben looked at her, then at the boy. "Hello there, young man. And what is your name?"
The boy looked at his mother and she nodded. He took a deep breath and exhaled, "My name is Nathan Benjamin Logan."
Ben blinked once, then stared up at Alexa, who tilted her head a little. "Benjy. I thought Nathan sounded like an old Jewish man, but Mike insisted it was a family thing to give him the name, even if we didn't use it. So he's Benjy."
It had almost been that simple. When he had been born, Mike had already chosen his name, deciding to name him after his father, who had inspired him to become a policeman in the first place. When Alexa had tentatively put forward the middle name, she knew she might be stepping on thin ice, and Mike had eyed her curiously, staring down at the baby, then back to her again. Then he had grinned. "Makes sense to me."
"It does?" she had tried to keep the surprise from her voice; it was as if he knew suddenly, yet decided not to know at the same time. It was the closest she had ever come to telling him everything.
Mike had nodded. "Makes me think of your friend Stone, actually. It's a good name. He's a good guy. I kind of feel like he's the one who got us back on track in the first place."
Alexa had swallowed, running her hand down the baby's face, then reaching up to Mike's. "That's what I was thinking," she told him quietly, and he'd held her hand. She still did not know to this day what he knew, and what he did not, and never asked.
Back in his office, still confronted with Benjy, Ben leaned down on his knees and ran a hand over the boy's fine, loose, reddish-brown hair. "That's my name, too," he told the boy. "My name's Ben."
Benjy clapped his hands together and looked at his mother. "Mama, his name is Ben too!"
"I know," Alexa said.
"What are you?" the boy asked.
Ben smiled at him. "I'm a District Attorney."
The little boy had no idea what that was, but he was impressed. "Oh. Wow."
Ben stood straight and removed his glasses, wiping something from his eye with the back of his hand. "He's five, isn't he."
She nodded. "Five and a half, if you ask him. Halves and quarters are very important these days." She paused. "Congratulations, Ben. I knew you'd be elected once Adam retired. I'm really proud and impressed."
"Yeah," he turned and looked out the window a moment, then back to her. "At least McCoy's going to have to stew in his own juices as EADA for a while. He loathes coming in to brief me on a case. We have fun."
"Do you, Ben?"
He nodded slightly. "Yes."
Behind them, Benjy had slid up on the big fat desk chair and was trying to spin it around. Alexa started to admonish him, and Ben waved her down. "Don't worry, he can't break it."
"You'd be surprised what he's broken already."
Silent, they watched the little boy spin around, giggling delightedly, his blue eyes sparkling.
"Sometimes, I miss you, Ben," she said quietly.
He looked at his feet. "I miss you all the time, Lexa."
Behind them, a knock came at the door and Logan stuck his head in. "There you are!" he said jovially, and Alexa crossed the room to hug him. Claire followed behind him, still toting Caitlin.
"Here's another for the office," she laughed, looking at Ben, and set the little girl down on the floor. Caitlin immediately stood on her own and stumbled wobbily towards the books in the wall, trying to get a handhold on something.
"Meet Caitlin," Alexa said, and Ben reached down to her, lifting her gently, like fine china.
"She looks..." he began, and Claire finished, "just like you," and they all laughed.
"Not an original sentiment apparently," said Ben, and smiled at the girl. "Hello there, beautiful." Caitlin buried her head against his neck and he patted her on the back.
"She's almost three," Alexa said. "Still extremely shy."
Mike strode over to Ben and shook his hand. "Hey, man, nice to see you again. Congrats on the new office, too."
Ben shrugged. "Came with the job."
Still standing next to him, Mike said, "I never thanked you, by the way, for all you did for me way back there." He stared at Ben. "I owe you, big time." He headed back to Alexa and took her hand without waiting for a response.
"So," Alexa said brightly. "Late lunch, can you?"
Claire looked at Ben, who she had now been working with daily for eight years, read his face, and knew he wouldn't refuse, and also that he couldn't bear to go. So she said, "Tomarakin." And shook her head. "This really ugly case....not for the ears in this room. And the lawyers are driving us up the wall. If we weren't so bogged down..." she said, shrugging.
Ben didn't contradict her.
"Oh well," said Mike, "next time. We should probably get these kids over to Pop's. He just saw 'em last Christmas when he came up, but he acts like it's the first time." He took Caitlin from Ben's shoulder, where she had dropped off into sleep, and groggily she did the same instantly against her father's shoulder.
"Benjy," Alexa called, and the little boy stopped spinning the chair around, drunkenly walking over to her. "Say goodbye to Ben and Claire, honey."
Benjy took his mother's hand. "Bye-bye," he said like a seasoned pro, and Claire and Ben walked them to the door.
"I'll go flag a cab," said Mike. "Meet you downstairs." He stepped lightly down the hall, trying not to wake Caitlin up, which left Claire, Ben, and Alexa standing around with Benjy.
"I think I hear my phone ringing," Claire told them, and Alexa put a hand on her shoulder.
"Thanks, Claire," she said, and hugged her, whispering, "See that he's okay, please."
As they pulled back, Claire nodded to her, and walked off to Ben's old office.
"So," she smiled at Ben.
"So," he said back. "How long are you in town for?"
"Just tonight, and some of tomorrow. Mike has to work in the morning."
Ben nodded. "Another five years, then?"
"Sooner, I hope," she said sincerely. "Please come visit."
He reached over and hugged her tightly. "I'll try, Alexa. I will try." And he kissed her on the cheek. "I love you."
When she pulled back, her eyes were teary. "Me too," she said softly, and started off down the hall, holding Benjy by the hand. Before they reached the end of the hallway the little boy insisted on a drink from the fountain, and Alexa lifted him, suspending him above the stream of water. When he finished, he wiped his face off with the back of his hand, turned back towards Ben, and by opening and closing his hand repeatedly, he waved goodbye to the man with whom he shared a name.
 

The End

November 1995 - January 1996