Author's Note: Don't own Law and Order: Criminal Intent. Wish I did. The residuals alone would pay off all my college loans. They're property of Dick Wolf and NBC, all I'm doing is playing with their characters... I also don't own "Waltzing Matilda" but I think everyone knows that.
Warnings: AU, zomg AU. Adult subjects, child abuse, angst, and unpopular pairings ahoy.
"Waltzing Matilda! Waltzing Matilda!
You'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me!"
She watches them dance together: his hand spread across her back, his large hand swallowing hers in his gentle grip. His eyes are bright and his smile broad and honest as he leads her about the room with much more nimbleness than his size suggests. She laughs flirtatiously, squealing with each sudden turn. The little bitch.
"Who's that jolly jumbuck you've got in your tucker bag?
You'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me!"
She seethes internally as she watches her stretch up to press a kiss onto his cheek. She's good, real good… but she won't be enough to satisfy him, not for long.
She doesn't like competition though. She won't stand for it. He belongs to her, and she's not going to let anyone get in her way.
"That's a terrible song to sing to a three year old…" She scolds him with a smile.
He turns and flashes a boyish grin at her, adjusting his hold of the little girl on his hip with the dark blonde curls. They'd be a sunnier blonde color if they lived in the southern hemisphere, just like she had as a child…
"It's not as if 'Ring around the Rosie' is much better -- although that's mostly urban legend -- besides, it's your song, isn't it, baby?"
"My song!"
"Your song," he chuckles and then kisses her forehead. Cold rage runs through her veins at the sight.
She wonders when this became something more than mere self-preservation… when she had actually come to desire the man for more than the safety he could provide her.
Elizabeth Goren, nee Hitchens, wonders how life would be different if she'd stuck to her original plan of killing President Winthrop and framing Professor Sanders…