6:30. That's what her clock read. She got up, almost tripping over her blood hound, Nina, and walked into the bathroom. The shower turned on. An hour later, and she was ready to leave her small apartment, and start another day at Manhattan's Special Victims Unit.

Tired, she closed her apartment door and headed down the stairs. Once outside, a deafening noise caught her attention, causing her to turn her head. Not looking, and still walking in the other direction, she ran into him.

He was so beautiful. He was looking at her…Her! No one ever looked at her that way. Oh, no! Should she say something? Where did he come from? She didn't care, because he was tall and gorgeous.

"Are you okay?" He asked in a rich, deep voice. He didn't appear to be unhappy about the collision, but he had a stain on his shirt, and an empty coffee cup in his hand.

"Oh dear! Did I do that to you? I'm so sorry! I can fix it, I promise. I'm so sorry," she caught herself rambling, but, for some reason, she couldn't stop herself. He laughed and took her arm gently.

"It's okay. Really." She looked up and caught his gaze. Gorgeous eyes. "I'm Peter. Hermann…Uh, Peter Hermann. What's your name?"

"Mariska…Mariska Hargitay." Oh my God. Did she really just say that?! Her name WASN'T even close to Mariska! She waited too long to fix it. Dang it. Well, people always told her that she looked like Mariska. She didn't know who she was, so she couldn't really argue.

"Well, hello Mariska Hargitay. It's very nice to meet you. Of course, this isn't an ordinary was to meet someone quite as beautiful as yourself."

Did he just call her beautiful? Was this really happening? How was she supposed to respond to that? Oh, you're beautiful, and Mariska isn't my real name. Sorry for lying to you. Have a nice life. She sighed silently and looked at her watch.

7:50. She had 10 minutes to get to work! She looked up at the cute stranger.

"Forgive me, I have to go. I'm late." He took her arm once more, before she could get away.

"Hey…Do you want to go on a date with me, Mariska?"

This was so not happening. Not real. "Me? Go one a date with you? I…Sure."

"Really? Great! Here, give me your number, and I'll call you tonight."

"Tonight? Umm…Yeah. Okay. Here," she wrote down her number on a napkin and gave it to him.

"I really have to go. Bye!"

"Goodbye, Miss Hargitay. It was lovely meeting you. I'll call you tonight."

"Okay, Peter. Bye." And with that, they parted ways.