Title: Feint

Summary: Unusual murders in New York draw the attention of Stargate Command. Are these deaths just a means to an end? Part one of the "Crossover Series"

Rating: M (mainly for some language)

Season: Stargate early season 7, SVU during the last season of Novak (just pretend they both occur in the same calendar year)

Disclaimer: Don't own Stargate or Law and Order. Just having a little fun before I put them back on the shelf.

A/N: This is my first crossover piece for SVU. I am more comfortable with my peeps from the Stargate universe. It is femslash, Sam and Olivia, so you have been warned (the beginnings of the relationship, so nothing explicit). Unlike others, I don't like to post single chapters at a time. I find myself going back often to change something earlier to better fit with how the story is progressing. Also, it's less polished that way. That, and I know the anguish of starting to read a story, and having the author never actually finish it. Hope you enjoy, please r & r to tell me what you think, it makes me happy. All constructive criticism is welcome. I want to hear from you!

I've edited this myself, so any lingering mistakes are my own.

*

Olivia flashed her badge as she ducked under the crime scene tape. She walked over to Elliot, kneeling over the body. The woman lay on her side, dumped haphazardly in the alleyway. Kneeling on the opposite side as Elliot, Olivia examined her face. The woman was Latina, with long black hair streaking down her shiny, and scant, clothing. It screamed prostitute to Olivia.

The burn on the woman's forehead was striking.

"Don't see that every day," Olivia said.

Elliot grunted in agreement. "She also has a cut on the back of her neck here."

Olivia leaned over to look, careful not to disturb the body. The gash was only two inches long, and didn't appear particularly deep. While she wasn't a medical examiner, she had seen enough bodies to figure it wasn't fatal. But what purpose it served—a warning, torture, or simply sadistic pleasure for the perp—she couldn't tell.

"We got an ID?"

"No." Elliot sighed. "There was no purse with the body, and CSU hasn't picked up anything from the dumpsters."

Catching sight of Melinda Warner approaching, Olivia stepped aside so the Medical Examiner could do her job. They exchanged nods as Warner began her cursory examination.

"Body's still in rigor. Judging by temp, I'd say she's been dead no more than twelve hours."

Olivia nodded. "Not killed here."

"No," Warner agreed, "lividity is inconsistent with body position. There's hardly any blood here. The neck wound is superficial. The cut didn't puncture the spine, nor did it sever any nerves or blood vessels, but it still would have been messy. With the trauma to the surrounding tissue, it was definitely pre-mortem. The burn on her forehead is second-degree, not fatal at first glance. I'll have to get her back to learn more."

Letting Warner leave with the body, Olivia looked at Elliot. "Who called it in?"

"Anonymous nine-one-one."

Olivia looked down at her watch, three A.M. It was going to be a long day.

*

They started canvassing the area with the uniforms on scene. Elliot was frustrated with the lack of any leads. No one had seen a strange vehicle, and no one was able to identify the victim. He did get a buzz of fear from many of the people they had talked to. Not fear that there was a dead prostitute in the neighborhood, but something else. He saw the same curious expression in Olivia's face, she felt it too.

Unsure what to make of it, he knew they'd both keep it on the back burner for now.

Just over three hours after arriving on scene, they entered the bullpen. Olivia went straight for the coffee pot, while Elliot leaned on the edge of his desk.

"Get an ID yet?" he asked John Munch.

The taller man shook his head. "Fingerprints just started running. No go on Missing Persons. Probably too early for that route anyway."

"We'll get a hit on prints."

"Working girl, eh?" Munch said.

Olivia nodded, taking another sip of her coffee. "Outfit definitely screamed pro, and a seasoned one at that."

"Such a way with words."

Olivia rolled her eyes at his provocative eye waggle.

"Didn't get anything from the businesses open in the area. No one saw her get dumped. Or at least no one is admitting to it," Elliot said.

Grabbing some coffee of his own, Elliot settled down at his desk. Until they got a hit from the prints, or on something else gathered at the scene, all that remained was paperwork.