Hi all… I LOOOOOOOOOOOVE Munch and it seems he is ALWAYS left out, but he's such a brilliant character. So, I also LOVED the episode REMORSE, and hated that SARAH LOGAN was killed. So I found a semi-way to bring her back.

Hope you guys enjoy.

THESE CHARACTERS ARE NOT MINE they are the property of Dick Wolff. :)

He still thought about her sometimes, more often than not, when he watched the news report. He missed her face, her smile, the way she spoke with such concern for people, the way she held herself at a distance, was nothing more than a façade, her compassion was always centre stage. She was intelligent and witty, with a good sense of humor.

And like John Munch, she cared about Justice.

He could see her hazily when he closed his eyes; that curly brown hair that hugged her rounded face, those warm brown eyes that sparkled dangerously when she smiled.

Sarah Logan was beautiful.

The image of her body lying lifeless in her apartment still haunted him with nightmares 10 years later. It was a meticulous crime scene that never left him, but it was no more monstrous than the next crime he came upon, or the one after that. The only difference was that the dead victim was his friend.

John remembered that last time he'd seen her. He recalled the last conversation they had, word for word. He remembered her offering to buy him dinner after a spot on his show. He recalled the way she had looked at him, a brief smile flickering across her face. John had hid his enthusiasm well, but as always, she saw right through him. He liked her. A lot more than he should have, he supposed, after all he was 20 years her senior.

But age hadn't seemed to bother her. The connection was there. She returned the long lingering looks, and smile at him flirtatiously after every sentence. She liked him, too. Three marriages later, had taught him somewhat, when a girl was interested.

A date! John had been looking forward to dinner with Sarah, the night she was called. But instead of seeing her across the table, chatting animatedly and getting to know her every thought, he found himself indentifying the body that lay bloodied and broken in an apartment in New York City.

10 years later, John found himself staring at the same apartment building. He stood impassively, his hands to his side, his mouth moved slightly into a grimace.

"Goodbye, Sarah…" he whispered almost inaudibly. He did this sometimes, when a hard had struck him particularly hard. It was the same words he whispered to her when she signed off after every broadcast show.

This day had been predominantly hard, and he was only days away from throwing in the towel. Justice seemed to fail more often than not, and he just couldn't take the injustice anymore. He didn't feel like he was helping anyone.

He stared at the apartment building that she'd once lived in many moons ago, and silently wished there was a way humanly possible, to bring her back. John felt cheated sometimes. He'd been married three times, and each time, he'd been burned. His first wife hadn't failed to take everything he had before she left him. His second wife had been a lost cause from the beginning; he'd just been naïve enough to think he could save her. And wife number three, had severe issues of her own, though they remained friendly acquaintances.

Sarah Logan had been killed, taken from him, so it seemed before John had the chance to make her wife number four.

Eventually, John tore himself away and made his way back to his own apartment. He threw in some left-over dinner from the night before, into the microwave, and settled on the couch, thoughts of Sarah flashing through his mind. There had been more to her than natural beauty, she had an inner strength that not everybody possessed. She had used her misfortune to help others.

John recalled their first interaction.

Sarah had walked into the precinct late one night. John hadn't finished his paperwork and had stayed behind. She'd walked into SVU quarters with a startled expression. Her hair was disheveled and her face was caked in blood. He knew why she was there, what startled him was the pull he felt towards her. Her face was familiar but he could not place her.

He had stood from his desk chair and approached her with caution, careful not to scare her. The idea was to make himself available. Sarah had folded her arms around herself, as she stepped up to face him.

He extended a hand and she hesitated briefly before closing her hand around his. "Hello, ma'am, I'm Detective John Munch. How can I be of assistance?"

"I've been raped," she stated calmly. Her voice was not full of resentment or fear, as most of the victims he encountered were, instead there was an air of reality to her tone. She was not in denial. She held her head high.

"You've done the right thing by coming down here," he said gently. She nodded. "It's important to know, have you showered since the rape?"

Sarah frowned in answer. "No."

Relief flooded through him, the percentage was higher, he knew, when the semen was still on the victim. "It's common procedure to have a rape kit done. We want to find this guy… I can take you down there myself, if you like," he offered.

Sarah had stared at him for a long time before she answered. She looked almost distant as her eyes locked on his. "Okay," she agreed.

John had nodded, and had instantly grabbed him jacket that had hung off the back of his chair, and lead her out of the precinct. She shivered as they exited the building, a gush of cold wind blowing across their face. John offered her his coat, which she had greatly accepted in exchange for a smile.

It was in that very moment he fell in love with her.

He opened the car door for her, and waited until she was buckled in safely before he closed it, and went around to the driver's side. The drive to the hospital was done in silence. Sarah had stared out the window the entire time, while John focused on the traffic ahead of him, occasionally glancing at her.

Once he parked the black sedan, he went around to the passenger's side door, and took her hand. She stepped out.

"You can do this," he urged.

Sarah had nodded.

Once they approached the reception desk, John took control of the situation and demanded a rape kit. "I want someone on this NOW!" he'd ordered without patience.

"Sarah… I need some details. Do you think you can manage that?"

Sarah had nodded vaguely, taking the sheet of paper in her hand.

A nurse had approached him almost instantly and led Sarah away; she'd looked back at him with sad eyes. "Will you come with me?" she'd asked shyly. John had moved without hesitation, his eyes unmoving from her.

It was hard to remember her face now, even when he closed his eyes, he couldn't see the angel smile she gave him, whenever they had been within close proximity. He had a newspaper clipping of her face that a former detective had saved for him, that he had framed and for reasons unexplained, he had placed hidden in his bedroom drawer. Her face had been splashed all over the news when she had been killed. Everybody knew who Sarah Logan was. Her death had been TV coverage for a week.

All the thoughts swimming around in John's head did nothing to relief the headache that was increasing with every passing moment. He picked up the unfinished meal, and scrapped it into the garbage bin, and then he switched off the lights and prepared for bed.

Please R&R… thank-you :)