I dreamed these characters one night, then Dick Wolf stole them from my dreams. Legally I do not own them. Spiritually they are MINE MINE MINE!

Two Characters In Search Of Something to DoDetective Alexandra Eames parked her car several blocks away, and walked through the jostling crowd to where her partner was standing. She hid a wince as she beheld him; he had been standing in the same spot in the middle of Times Square since December 6, 2007. She walked over to him, saying nothing at first, watching his eyes rove over the crowd of strangers. Probably wishing he was a bit character in someone else's drama. A crime one, or medical, or even soap opera, God forbid.

Finally she spoke. "Well--still no crimes."

"Of course not," he snarled, "We're one of the last people to go back on after the strike. If they don't write it for us, it doesn't happen."

"Well--they are writing now."

"Great, and it'll be how long before it airs? Another month?" After a long pause, he sighed. "I'm sorry, Eames."

"Don't worry." She waved her hand.

"But I will say, this is one of the few times I wish I weren't the writers' favorite."

"More like whipping boy. Have you seen anyone interesting?"

"A few. You know, they start cycling after a while. It's the nature of the beast."

"Speaking of. . . nature, don't you have to--well, you know, go?"

"Is there any way out of this conversation?"

"Sure," she said, teasing, turning to leave, "I have other things I could be--"

"No no no!" he babbled, eyes on her as much as they could be without moving his head one way or another. "Stay, pa-lease stay." After awhile, he said quietly, "You're just teasing me about the going thing, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"I don't go to the bathroom. I never have. Neither have you."

She shrugged, looked at the crowd for a while, trying to find signs of a crime, any crime at all. As had been the case since December 13, 2007, there was none in the city of New York.

"So. . . how has everyone else been doing?"

"Well, I've told you that the SVU squad has been busy for quite a while. Especially Benson--she's been nearly raped by a prison guard, broken up with a boyfriend, and been kidnapped by an engineer."

Goren winced. "They're really starting to show their sadistic side over there, aren't they?"

Eames grimaced, looked around uncomfortably. "No one likes to talk about it. She said she's waiting for them to latch on to someone else."

"This Lake kid?"

"Yeah, probably, since they hate Munch so much."

"Pity, that."

"Shame."

There was a silence between them, each thinking seperate thoughts, Eames shifting from foot to foot, Goren staring into space, unmoving. Finally, he said, "And how's Homicide doing?"

"The Law, or the Order?"

"Both."

Eames scratched the back of her neck. "Well, Ed's been replaced by this new guy, Bernard--"

"Yes, I'm sorry I couldn't make his going-away party--"

"And this new kid Cutter--" she chuckled-- "Cutter's really shaping up."

"I figured he'd surprise everyone. He always seemed to me like he was waiting for his moment."

"Well, this last stunt of his--it really reminded me of you, Bobby."

"It's Rene Balcer, I'm not surprised." There was a long pause. "I just wish I reminded me of me."

Her eyes welled up, she touched his unyielding shoulder. "Me too, partner."

"Eames?" he said, so quiet she almost couldn't hear. "I'm scared."

"Me too."

There was silence. Goren stood unmoving, Eames shifted from foot to foot, looking into the crowd for signs of a crime. As had been the case since December 13, 2007, there was no crime in New York City.