DISCLAIMER: I don't own Law and Order: Special Victims Unit. That'd be Dick Wolf and NBC. I also don't own NCIS. That'd be CBS. I'm just borrowing the characters, and I promise to return them by midnight, fed, clean, and unharmed. Mostly.
Wednesday, December 21st, 2:21A.M.
Jennifer Shepard shifted impatiently on her bar-stool. She'd been waiting in the pub for over an hour and a half for her informant and he still hadn't shown. She had come all the way to this Manhattan bar from NCIS headquarters because this informant, screen name Realist012, told her that he wouldn't give her any information over the web, and wouldn't meet her outside of his comfort zone. Smart man. She wanted info on a man she'd been watching for months. She couldn't get it anywhere else. She agreed to meet him in this dump. Not a smart woman. She rubbed her eyes blearily and checked her watch for the umpteenth time and sighed. The room was spinning. Too many glasses of Johnny Walker will do that to a girl. She took one last look around the bar, drained her glass, and pulled a twenty out of her wallet to pay the bartender, a sweet man named Thomas. Time to go back to her hotel room, book a flight back to DC in the morning and get some sleep. She laid the money on the counter and slid off the stool, grabbing her overcoat.
Great job, Jenny. You got stood up. Got yourself drunk.
She slipped into her coat and stumbled to the door. She stopped to lean on the door jamb. This was wrong. She'd only had two glasses of drink, she shouldn't feel this buzzed. Her head spun and her stomach lurched. Nobody had touched her drink...could someone have drugged her? She put a hand to her forehead. What the hell was going on? A strong arm snaked around her waist and she felt something hard, metallic and cold press into her lower back.
"Well, well, well. Director Shepard. I didn't think you'd give up that easily. Only an hour and forty five minutes? I gave you more credit than that."
Jenny tried to turn to look the figure in the eye but the arm gripped her waist tighter, pulling her against a muscular body.
"What do you want?" she slurred.
"Let's go for a walk, Director. Someplace more... private." The figure called to the bartender, "Hey, thanks for the drink, Tommy. I'll see you tomorrow." As the figure pushed her out into the cold night, the snow swirling around them, Jenny felt her adrenaline pumping and saw her opportunity. Elbowing her attacker in the ribs, she wrenched away and bolted into the parking lot.
"Stupid bitch!" the figure growled. She screamed for help as she ran, knew she wouldn't get very far. She could already hear the assailant running behind her, could feel a grasp just miss her hair. Of all the days to wear Jimmy Choo's! She slid on black ice and felt someone grab her arm.
"Don't slip, Jenny."
She froze. She slowly turned to look at her pursuer and drew in a sharp breath.
"You..."
The figure grinned.
"That's right. Me." A strong arm raised and brought the gun down over her skull.
A sharp pain erupted in her head and an animal-like whine escaped her. A warm trickle oozed down her face and one word rang through her core.
"Why?"
The figure sneered.
"Because I can."
5:43A.M.
"What have we got?" Detective Stabler called to the Manhattan Officer, ducking under the yellow crime tape.
"White female, late 40's, found alive but unconscious behind this bar, pantsless, beaten and shot. No ID, no wallet, no car keys."
"Anyone nearby hear or see anything?" Detective Benson asked, walking toward them.
"No. CSU is bagging and tagging as we speak, but it's still snowing, so we're working as fast as we can."
"Great. Thanks." Stabler pulled his jacket tighter around himself and turned to his partner. She was wearing a low cut knee length burgundy dress, a charcoal coat, black heels, and expensive looking jewelry. Her hair was gathered and held back by a cream colored satin ribbon and her makeup was impeccably done.
"You're all fancied up. Coming from a hot date?"
Olivia pushed a stray hair behind her ear, eyed her partner.
"And you look like crap. Have you talked to the vic yet?" She pushed her bare hands back in her coat pockets.
"No, I just got here," he replied. Olivia nodded and walked away from him, toward the alley. "Are you gonna answer my question?" He called after her. She ignored him.
"She say anything?" Olivia asked the female E.M.T. standing beside the woman on the gurney.
"No, she's been out since we got here," the E.M.T. replied without looking up. "We're heading to Bellevue."
"Great." Olivia turned to Elliot. "I'll ride along."
"I'll head into the bar and ask around. Somebody had to have heard something." Elliot turned and headed up the alley.
It was going to be a long day.
6:30A.M.
NCISHeadquarters
Abby stepped off the elevator nursing her third Caf-Pow of the day and walked into her lab. She put her bag down, turned the lights on and began booting up her system. She was worried. She was supposed to meet Agent David for a drink last night, but Ziva never showed and she wasn't answering her phone. So Abby decided to head up to the bullpen early. Besides, she wanted to get McGee's advice on a new MMORPG she'd started playing. He held the highest records on it and, as much as it pained her, she was smart enough to recognize when to ask the master for help. Abby took the elevator to the bullpen and saw Gibbs sitting at his desk reviewing files.
"Wow. You're here early, Gibbs," she commented, walking up to him.
"Never left, Abbs," he replied, not looking up.
"You didn't go home last night? Why?"
"New case."
Abby's jaw dropped. "Already? Didn't you just wrap one up?"
"It's not ours, Abby." Gibbs closed the folder he was perusing and added it to a small stack on his right. He took another from a much larger stack on his left and opened it.
"Well then...whose is it?" She wandered over and peeked at the name on the cover of one of the files. Her eyes opened wide and she dropped her half full Caf-Pow to the floor.
"You took files from Director Shepard's desk? Gibbs, that's suicide!"
"No, Abby, it's not, because I didn't take them," Gibbs replied, looking up at Abby.
"She gave them to you?"
"...Not exactly."
"I thought you said you didn't take them!"
"I didn't." Gibbs raised his eyebrows at Ziva's desk.
Abby turned to follow his line of sight. Ziva was asleep in her chair, a case file open on her lap and a half eaten carton of lo mein on her desk with chopsticks sticking out of it.
Abby pursed her lips and frowned.
"I've been calling her all night! We were suppose to meet for drinks, Gibbs. What did you do?"
"That was you? She had to turn her phone off, Abby! It rang while she was in the directors house!"
"You went to her house?" Abby shrieked.
"Shhhh!" Gibbs scolded. Ziva stirred in her chair. The folder slid off her lap.
"You went to her house?" Abby whispered.
"No. Not 'we', 'she'. Ziva went alone," Gibbs replied.
The elevator dinged and Tony, McGee and Ducky stepped off.
"Who went alone where, boss?" Tony asked.
"None of your business, Tony." Gibbs closed the case file.
"Got it. Need to know and I do not need to know." Tony replied, inclining his head toward Ziva. "She been here all night?"
"Yeah...you got a problem with that, Agent Dinozzo?" Gibbs stood. Tony put his bag down.
"No, sir."
"Good. Grab your gear. We've got a case."
"Already? Boss, I just got in."
"Do I look like I care, Dinozzo?"
Tony picked his bag up again.
"Who is it, Gibbs?" McGee asked.
"23 year old Marine Corps, James Hale. Shot in the head and found with two civilian bodies," Abby read from the file Gibbs had just closed. "Spooky."
Gibbs threw her a burning look.
"Is that it, boss?" McGee asked.
"Yeah, that's the one," Gibbs replied, turning toward the elevator.
"Shouldn't we wake Ziva?"
"Well, that depends, Probey." Tony smirked. "Can you do it without scaring the crap out of her?"
"I'll do it," Ducky mumbled. "A bunch of pansies, the lot of you." He rested a hand on Ziva's forearm.
"If you plan to keep that arm, Tony, I suggest you remove your hand immediately," she stated calmly without opening her eyes.
"Actually, Ziva, it's Dr. Mallard. Your team has a case and they are leaving without you." He glanced up at McGee and Tony then whispered softly in her ear, "And Ziva, do I smell alcohol on your breath, dear?"
Ziva's eyes flew open.
"No." She sat up and pulled her feet off her desk. "Thank you, Ducky." She grabbed her go bag and looked stormily at Tony. "It seems my team was about to leap ship without me."
"The term is jump ship, Ziva." Tony gave her a smug look.
"Let's GO people! Come on!" Gibbs yelled from behind the closing elevator doors. The three agents ran to catch up and Ducky turned to Abby.
"I'm afraid today is going to be a long day, My Dear Abby." He picked up her Caf-Pow and handed it to her. "Yes... a very long day indeed."
8:45A.M.
BellevueHospital,Room582
Manhattan
Olivia poured herself another glass of water from the pitcher on their Jane Doe's bedside table and sat back down in her chair at the end of the bed. She sighed. She hadn't slept the night before and wanted to go home and change into some more comfortable clothes. She crossed her ankles and sipped from her paper cup. She knew she should have told her partner that she thought she saw the woman in Tommy's bar the night before, but she wanted to be sure. Olivia'd been there with her blind date, but she knew the minute she saw him that it wouldn't work out. She was going to ream Novak a new one when she heard from her. Who sets a lesbian up with a man anyway?
She looked over at the woman on the hospital bed. She thought she remembered seeing her stumbling toward the door at the end of the night, then a man coming up behind her and whispering in her ear, but Olivia wasn't sure. Her date had gotten kind of handsy at that point and she just wanted to get the hell out of there. Her cell vibrated, making an awful noise against the plastic chair.
"Benson..." she answered.
"It's me."
"Hey, Elliot." Olivia rested her forehead on her hand.
"Do we have an ID on our Jane Doe yet?"
"No. She's still out. You get any leads at the bar?" She was getting a headache.
"Nope. A whole lot of people remember her going in but nobody remembers her leaving." Elliot paused. "You gonna tell me why you don't want to talk about your get-up?"
Olivia rolled her eyes. The woman on the bed stirred.
"I gotta go, Elliot. She's waking up." She snapped the phone closed before Elliot could object and stood up. The woman opened her eyes and looked over at Olivia.
"Where am I?" She lifted a hand to her head.
Olivia's own head throbbed.
"You're at Bellevue Hospital in Manhattan." Olivia walked over to the bed. "Can you tell me your name?"
"Hospital...? What happened to me?" The woman asked.
"You were attacked."
"Attacked? How?"
"You were beaten and shot. You were found behind Tommy's Pub, naked from the waist down," Olivia said quietly putting a hand on the bed rail. "Can you tell me your name, ma'am?"
"Was I raped?"
"No, you weren't. Can you give me your name?"
"Uh...Jennifer. Jennifer Shepard." Jennifer closed her eyes and tried to sit up in the bed, but winced. Olivia stilled her with a hand on her shoulder.
"Don't try to move too much. You lost a lot of blood."
"Who did this to me?"
"That's what we're trying to find out, Ms. Shepard." Olivia reached into her coat pocket and pulled out her notebook.
"Jenny."
Olivia looked up at the smaller woman in front of her. "I'm sorry?"
"Call me Jenny."
Olivia smiled. "I'm Detective Benson. You can call me Olivia. Can you tell me what you remember?"
"Not a lot...I uh...I remember sitting at the bar. I was supposed to meet someone. He never showed. I got up to leave, and I felt sick."
Olivia heard the words just as she felt them. Her stomach lurched.
"I don't remember anything else." Jennifer looked panicked. "Why can't I remember anything else?"
"The doctors ran a tox screen and found Rohipnol in your blood." Olivia's vision blurred for a moment.
"Rohipnol? I was drugged?"
"Yes. Can you excuse me for a moment?" Olivia went to the paper cup by her chair and took another sip of her water.
She returned to the woman's bedside.
"You say you remember sitting at the bar. Do you remember anything before that?"
"Uh...yes. I uh, I took a cab there from my hotel on 26th street. There was a man..." She paled. "Oh, my god."
Olivia furrowed her brow. "What is it?"
"The man...he was one of them. How could I not see it, he was-" She stopped abruptly and made a strangled gagging sound.
"Jenny?" Olivia called.
Jenny's hand clutched the rail, knuckles white, and her eyes rolled back in her head. She began thrashing about. Olivia dropped her notebook and reached over the woman to hold her arms down, but the hand clutching the rail came up. Olivia felt it strike her face, felt the woman's ring cut her skin, the warm trickle of blood on her cheek. The monitors around the bed began sounding their alarms. She reeled back for a moment, clutching her face, but she recovered quickly, rushing forward to hold Jenny's arms down.
"Help! I need help in here!" she shouted, a gaggle of nurses running in, all shouting at each other.
"She's seizing."
"Push 5 milligrams Diazepam, stat."
"Get her out of here!"
One of the nurses, a blonde woman came over, pushing Olivia back out of the room.
"Ma'am, you can't be in here."
Olivia's head ached. Her stomach heaved, and the room began to spin. She clutched at the nurses arms.
"Are you alright?" The nurse asked.
"I need to get a statement from her," Olivia managed.
"Well, you're going to have to get it later." The nurse pushed her back harder.
Olivia's head was searing and for a moment she couldn't see. The sounds around her became distorted. The floor felt like it was slipping away from her.
"Ma'am, are you sure you're alright?" the nurse asked.
No, she thought. DoIlookalright?
Olivia tried to say, "I think I need help", but all that came out was, "ihthink...edd hell..." She wasn't sure which of the four rotating blonde nurses holding her up she was supposed to be directing her answer to. Her legs gave out under her, and the nurse gripped her tighter.
"Ma'am! Shit. Rhonda! Get me another gurney!"
Olivia didn't want a gurney, she wanted water and her statement. She tried to pull away from the nurse, but she just gripped Olivia's arms tighter.
"It's gonna be okay, ma'am."
Olivia felt herself being lifted onto a gurney. She wanted to tell them she just needed water, but her body wouldn't respond to her brains commands. She heard a distant voice calling to her, but she didn't understand what they were saying. Her tongue felt heavy and her head was splitting. She closed her eyes. She tried so hard to stay awake, but she was so tired. So very tired...
9:32A.M.
ManhattanSVUSquadRoom
Elliot tapped a pen against his desk. He wanted to give his partner time to get an ID from their victim, but he was getting anxious. He stood and crossed his arms. He'd already gone over all the statements he took at the crime scene twice. Munch and Fin just watched him pace. Finally, Munch spoke up.
"Elliot, will you relax? She's gonna call when she's got the ID."
Elliot sighed.
"I know. I know." A few minutes later, his desk phone rang and he answered it before it could ring a second time.
"Detective Stabler."
"Yes, hello. This is Dr. Keller at Bellevue hospital."
Elliot dropped his shoulders. "Hi, Doctor... can I help you with something?"
"Yes, actually. Do you know an Olivia Benson?"
He stiffened. "She's my partner. Is she alright?"
"She's awake now, and she's listed you as her emergency contact."
"Wait a minute, what do you mean 'she's awake now'?"
Munch and Fin stood.
"Oh. I'm sorry, Detective, I thought someone had notified you. Your partner collapsed earlier. She was slurring her words and passed out on one of my nurses. She was bleeding from a cut on her face."
"I'm on my way." Elliot hung up the phone, already halfway in his coat.
"Is she alright?" Fin asked.
"Tell Cragen I'm goin' to Bellevue," Elliot called over his shoulder. Fin started walking towards the captain's office.
"What happened?" Munch yelled.
"Olivia passed out."
10:00A.M.
MarineCorpsBase,Quantico,Virginia
"You took files from the director's desk?" Tony asked, holding his camera.
"Yes," Ziva replied, photographing the crime scene with hers.
"Why?"
"Do you know why I like dead men, Tony?" Ziva asked, looking through the lens of her camera at the dead Marine.
"Do I wanna know, Ziva?"
"Dead men don't ask questions," McGee quipped.
"That's exactly right, McGee." Ziva snapped a picture of the marine and walked away.
"What's eating her?" Tony asked after she'd gone.
"You keep asking her about those files, and you'll be a dead man," McGee replied.
Dinozzo laughed. McGee looked at him stoicly. Tony stopped laughing.
"Come on, Probey. She's not gonna kill me... is she?"
"Oh, I wouldn't count on it, Agent Dinozzo." Ducky slid down the muddy slope behind them.
"Thanks, Ducky." Dinozzo smiled.
"On the other hand, if I were you, I would stop asking. She does scare me just the slightest bit. It's the unpredictability, I think."
The smile fell off of Tony's face.
"What have we got, Ducky?" Gibbs called from the top of the hill behind them.
"Preliminary cause of death is a gunshot wound to the head, right between the eyes," Ducky replied, crouching over the body.
"Execution style. So, we're looking for a pro?" Tony asked.
"Yes, perhaps. But, the sloppiness of the handiwork tells me otherwise. I'm not sure yet, Jethro, but I wouldn't be surprised if the other two, the civilians, were killed in a similar fashion." Ducky stood and walked over to where the other two bodies lay, their faces covered by black plastic trash bags secured around the neck with duct tape. "I shall know soon enough."
"I've got something over here!" Ziva's voice rang.
McGee, Gibbs, and Tony ran over to her. A wall of the most horrible smell hit them as they came up behind her.
"Oh, man!" Tony yelled, tucking his face into the crook of his arm.
"What is that?" McGee choked.
"That is the smell of our good friend here," Ziva pointed over her head into the branches of a tree. "Decaying."
"Ducky! We've got another body in this tree here!" Gibbs yelled.
"Yes, and I daresay you'll want to look at this Jethro!" Ducky called back.
The four agents ran back over to where the marine's body had been found.
"What is it, Ducky?" Tony asked.
"Either someone lied to us, or we were all very wrong." Ducky stood and waved them all down the slope.
"What do you mean?" Ziva asked.
"His cause of death was not a gunshot wound to the head," Ducky stated grimly.
"Yeah, ok. That happens a lot though, doesn't it Ducky?" Tony said, trying to be reassuring.
"His cause of death is a deep laceration to major arteries near his genitals." Ducky turned away from them and walked over to the other two bodies. "They were killed in the same gruesome fashion, however the killer went to the trouble of lacerating their faces as well, beyond recognition. One male, one female, mid to late twenties."
"Ok, so the C.O.D. was wrong. What's the problem Ducky?" Gibbs was getting impatient.
"They are not civilians." Ducky lifted the hand of the female to show them. "No fingerprints on either of them, federal identification badges found under their bodies. It's a shame, really. It seems as if she had been very beautiful."
"I'll be the judge of that, Ducky." Tony smirked. Ziva hit him hard on the arm. "Ow! Boss, Ziva hit me!"
"She beat me to it, Tony," Gibbs replied.
Tony rubbed his arm wincing.
This was going to be a very long day.
10:02A.M.
BellevueHospital,Manhattan
Elliot walked up to the nurses station and showed his badge to a woman on the phone. She pointed to his left, at a doctor reviewing a chart at the end of the counter.
"Are you Dr. Keller?" he asked.
The man looked up.
"Yes, I am. You must be Elliot." The doctor extended his hand to shake Elliot's, but it was ignored.
"You mind telling me what the hell happened?" Elliot snapped.
The doctor frowned.
"Your partner was watching over your Jane Doe when the patient seized. Olivia was attempting to help and was struck in the face by one of the woman's flailing limbs. She has a small cut, but she'll be fine. When nurses came in to treat the patient, your partner was asked to leave. She argued with one of our nurses, Beth, who was attempting to escort her out, Beth says that your partner was incoherent and unsteady. When she asked if your partner was alright, she was non-responsive and collapsed." The doctor opened his mouth to continue, then hesitated for a moment.
"What?" Elliot prompted.
"Detective, did your partner have any surgery in the past 5 hours?"
"No. Why?"
"Well, she had anesthetic in her system. It's most commonly used to put patients under."
Elliot fumed. He clenched his fists.
"Where is she? I want to see her. Now."
"She's in room 584, two doors down from your Jane Doe. She's cleared to leave and requested that you come and pick her up."
Elliot turned on his heel and walked to Olivia's room. He knocked on the door frame.
"What did you do with it?" a man's voice growled.
"I don't know! I told you that already!" Olivia yelled. A sharp crack sounded and then a grunt, a whimper. Elliot pulled his sidearm out of its holster and laid his finger across the barrel before opening the door and entering.
Olivia was standing at the foot of the hospital bed in her dress, a man in black gripping her upper arms and pushing her back toward the bed.
"Stop lying to me!" The man slapped Olivia again, causing her head to snap to the left.
"Freeze! Show me your hands!" Elliot yelled, raising the gun.
The man paused, turned to look at Elliot. Olivia kneed him in the groin and the man crumpled at her feet. Elliot rushed over and forced his knee into the mans back, cuffed him.
"Who the hell is this guy, Liv?"
"The water in her room is drugged," Olivia shot over her shoulder as she ran down the hall to Jennifer's room, threw the door open.
"Detective Benson." Jenny was surprised. "Are you alright?"
"Where's the water pitcher that was here?" Olivia demanded.
"A man in black came in and removed it, said he was going to get me fresh water. Why?"
Olivia went to the woman's bedside.
"It was drugged. Do you know anyone who would want you dead, Jenny?" Olivia asked, Elliot coming in the room behind her.
"A lot of people might. It comes with the territory."
"Jenny, what territory?"
Jennifer looked up at Olivia and rolled her eyes.
"I'm the director of NCIS, detective. I make a lot of enemies."
Well,BoysandGirls?Whatdoyouthink?IknowIleftitkindofhanging,butit'llallmakesenseintheend,TRUSTME.Questions,comments,andcriticismarealwayswelcome!:D
Nextinstallmentcomingsoon!TTFN,myfinefurryfriends!
XO,JenovaPellam