A/N: So... I have a new story for you... it's a little different from my usual nonstop E/O, but the idea just popped into my head and I decided to run with it. Goodness knows how I'll keep all these stories straight in my head, but hey, I'll try!

I always try and work Munch into my stories because he makes me laugh so much, so I really wanted to try and write one that actually revolved around him... and although he never makes an appearance, he's very much the star of this one...

Anyway, I hope you all like it, and please send me a review and let me know whether it's worth carrying on with. I know it's a bit different from my usual, but... hopefully it'll turn out to be in a good way.

Why the fuck is she cluttering up my squad room? Olivia shot Dani Beck a dirty look. 'Elliot, you better not be the one who called that flaky bitch.'

Elliot rolled his eyes in exasperation. 'Jesus Christ, Olivia, for the last time, no, I did not call Dani!' You really think I'd dare after what happened the last time I accidentally mentioned her in front of you?

'Oh yeah?' Olivia's eyes narrowed. 'Then why the fuck is she here?' Because I really don't have time to get into a fight in the squad room right now. She smiled to herself. Not that it would be much of a fight. I'd take that bitch down and I'd take her down hard.

Elliot felt a twinge of unease. I'm almost afraid to ask what she's thinking. He quickly pushed the thought away and took a deep, calming breath. 'I don't know, Liv, I offered to go and ask her but you wouldn't let me.'

Olivia gritted her teeth. 'I don't want you to TALK to her, El, I just want you to tell me what the hell she's doing in my squad room-'

'I don't know! I don't know what she's doing here!' Elliot threw up his hands in defeat. 'God knows what half these people are doing here! Why is Trevor Langan lurking in our coffee area? Why is there a WASP hanging around in the corner and looking uncomfortable every time Fin glances his way? Why is your ex-boyfriend trying to chat up my ex-wife?'

Olivia turned bright red and stared down at her paperwork. 'Cassidy is NOT my ex-boyfriend.'

Elliot smirked. 'Well, you dated him, didn't you?'

'No, I slept with him.' Olivia could feel herself blushing an even brighter red. 'There's a difference.'

Elliot raised an eyebrow at her. 'I don't think so...'

Olivia rolled her eyes, scribbling something down on a form. 'Trust me, there is.'

'Why?' Elliot leaned in and grinned, lowering his voice. 'You're sleeping with me, aren't you?'

Olivia gritted her teeth again. 'Shut up, Elliot.' And it doesn't count as sleeping if the only place you ever really have sex is in the fifth-floor supply closet, or maybe someone's couch or car if it's a special occasion. Olivia glanced over at Cassidy again and accidentally made eye contact. Shit. Oh, shit. He smiled hopefully and she cringed, immediately looking back down at her paperwork. Why is he here, why...

'You know what, Liv? You ought to go and say hi.' Elliot leaned back in his chair and smirked. 'You never know, it might be fun.'

Bastard. Olivia gritted her teeth. 'No.'

Elliot feigned surprise. 'Why not?'

Olivia put down her pen and stared him the eye. 'I don't know, El, why don't you go and say hi to your ex-wife?' And then maybe we can all fuck on my desk and really make this uncomfortable moment count.

'Uh...' Elliot shifted uncomfortably. Because I'm afraid she'll stab me to death with the first sharp object she can get her hands on. 'Uh, well, she's still a little pissed about the divorce...' And she's not stopped glaring at you, me, or Dani since she walked in twenty minutes ago. 'And, you know, about the time she caught us together on the couch...' He sighed to himself. Not that it stopped herfrom demanding that couch in the divorce settlement, along with everything else I owned...

'OK, tell you what, El.' Olivia leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. 'You don't have to talk to your ex if I don't have to talk to mine.'

Elliot smirked. 'So he is your ex, then?'

Olivia blinked. Crap. 'Oh, just shut up, Elliot.'

'Olivia, Elliot, got a minute?' Cragen was suddenly standing over them holding a sheaf of paperwork. 'I've got something I need to go over with you and the rest of the unit.'

'Sure.' Olivia put down her pen. 'What's up?'

Elliot quickly cleared his throat. 'Actually, Cap, before we do that, I was just, uh, wondering...' He glanced around, beckoned Cragen in closer and lowered his voice. 'Why are there four dozen Free Presbyterian ministers in full Orange Order gear hanging around in the corridor?' They keep giving me nasty glares and I'm afraid to walk past them to go to the bathroom.

'Because they wouldn't all fit.' Cragen sounded distracted as he searched through the paperwork. 'The rest of them are sitting in the conference room drinking tea and making a couple of uniform uncomfortable.'

Elliot's eyes widened in horror. 'The rest of them?' There are MORE? Jesus, I'm not going to make it out of this place alive!

'Yes. Lots more.' Cragen rolled his eyes. 'The terms of John's will specifically require every practicing Free Presbyterian minister or Orange Lodge master in New York state to be physically present in order for it to be properly executed.' He shook his head. 'I decided to just stash most of them elsewhere in the building and have that count.'

Elliot frowned and leaned back in his chair. 'I thought you already executed John's will two weeks ago?' And how long can it take to send a houseful of Warren Commission memorabilia and conspiracy nut stuff to the nearest dump?

'Well, yes, I did, but the sadistic bastard left his entire estate to God.' Cragen raised an eyebrow. 'We had to send a couple of rookie detectives from the 2-7 out to literally 'find God.''

Olivia bit her lip, trying not to laugh. 'Any luck?'

Cragen shook his head. 'Apparently not, because they finally came back last night to report, and I quote-' he flipped through some papers '-that 'after a due and diligent search, God cannot be found anywhere within Manhattan or the five boroughs.''

Fin snorted. 'No shit.'

'Should have asked that guy with the dead chicken on the Bowery,' offered Elliot. 'He's always telling me about the time he found God on the M15 bus.'

Olivia shrugged. 'Well then, at least we know that God probably lives or works somewhere along First between South Ferry and Harlem if we ever need him.'

'Good to know.' Elliot picked up his pen again. 'I'll just note that down on a post-it before I forget. You never know when you might need the Almighty to help you out in a pinch.'

'If you're QUITE finished, Detectives...' Cragen cleared his throat pointedly and gave them a warning look. 'As I've been unable to successfully locate God within the stipulated timeframe, I have to execute his alternative will...' He sighed. 'Which is why I need our friendly local Orangemen.'

Elliot frowned. 'But I thought John was Jewish?'

'He was, but...' Cragen rolled his eyes. 'You know John, he always had a twisted sense of humour. Why else would that bottom-feeder Langan be here?'

Olivia raised her eyebrows. 'Social call?'

'My ass.' Cragen shot Langan a dirty look. 'And on top of that we've got most of the DA's office, three of the four ex-wives, a representative from the most expensive, exclusive, WASP-y country club in New York state, several former members of the unit, the owner of the largest whisky distillery on the East Coast, and three members of IAB.'

'Christ.' Elliot shook his head in disbelief. 'I'm amazed they all came...'

'I'm not.' Cragen glanced over the paperwork. 'John's estate is actually quite considerable, believe it or not.'

'Really?' A look of surprise crossed Olivia's face. 'I thought John didn't have any money...' He certainly bitched about it enough.

'Until recently, he didn't, but according to what I've heard-' Cragen barely stifled a laugh '-a couple of years ago he gave some ancient heiress 'the best week of her life' and she willed her entire estate to him when she died 18 months ago.'

Olivia's eyebrows shot up. 'So he was a millionaire?' That cheap son of a bitch has owed me forty bucks for gas since April...

'Multi-millionaire.' Cragen raised an eyebrow at her. 'Many times over.'

'Damn.' Elliot shook his head. 'That cheap bastard had me paying for his coffee right up to the day he died...'

'Well, maybe now he'll make it up to you.' Cragen tried and failed to hide a smirk, and Elliot was suddenly filled with dread. 'And now that we're all here, Detective, if you'd just go and invite the Free Presbyterians to join us, I think we can get started.'

A/N: What do you think? Please send me a review and let me know...