Disclaimer- Not. Mine.

A/N- I came up with this while taking a break from wiritng my second SVU fic, and me being the MC obsessed person I am, I just had to make it an MC ship...although they might not be officially together for a little while, so just bear with me. and please review! It keeps the plot bunnies alive...

The night air was cold, making Carolyn wish she was still snuggled back in bed, sleeping. She pulled her coat tightly around her, as she made her way towards the crime scene in Central Park. Normally, she wouldn't set foot in the park alone at night, but if it had to do with her job, she would do anything. She lived for this. Ever since she learned what a homicide detective did, she knew she had to be one when she grew up. As she neared the black and yellow tape barrier, she pulled a pair of latex gloves out of her coat pocket, and replaced her knitted gloves with them. She wasn't surprised that her partner wasn't there yet. Mike usually valued his sleep. Either that or he and one of his dates were too busy to get the phone.

"Victim's name is Jonathan O'Brien, he's 32 years old and he's from New Jersey." A uniformed officer had come up to her once she was inside the taped off section. In his hands was the victim's driver's license. "Found by a couple out on a late night stroll. Both are slightly intoxicated, and very shocked, so I don't think you'll get too much out of them until they're sober."

"Thank you." She moved on to the body. In the floodlights, his facial expression was one of shock, his eyes still wide open. These were the worst. She could never get the image of the victims, just staring into emtpy space, out of her head until their killers were brought to justice. From the gash on his neck, the snow on the ground was stained red with his blood. "Perp slashed his neck while he was lying on the ground." She muttered to herself, while examining the blood spatters. Instead of being splattered all over the place, it was pooled around his head and neck.

"My question is why wouldn't he fight back?" Carolyn jumped at the unexpected sound of her partner's voice. "Relax, Barek, it's just me."

"Well, there's ligature marks on his wrists." She gestured to the purplish marks on his wrists. "He was probably bound, and had the ties removed once the perp was sure he was a goner."

"Subdued him how?" She got up, and began to scan the ground for something the perp could have used to subdue him. "Barek, check under the bushes over there." He pointed at some bushes a few feet away. She bent down again, and taking out a small flashlight, shined it underneath the bushes.

"You see something?" She asked, not really noticing anything other than some debris.

"Yeah. It might be just trash, but you never know." As she knelt closer to the ground, the strong odor of chloroform made her feel a bit dizzy. She soon found the source of the fumes, under the bushes. It was a white handkerchief.

"Perp used chloroform." She said, as she brought the handkerchief to him. "It's on this handkerchief."

"I can tell." He covered his mouth with his scarf. "You could knock a horse out with that."

"Sure as hell knocked this guy out. My only question is, if she used the cholorform on him, why was he awake for the actual killing?"

"You're the profiler Barek, you tell me."

"Let me rephrase that. How did he wake up? Usually when you use chloroform to knock someone out, they stay out. " Carolyn said, offering her hand to help Mike up. He shook his head and stood up, brushing the dirt off of his pants. "Perp must have used something else to wake him up."

"Like smelling salts?"

"Could be." They both were silent for a second, Mike thinking of things that could be used to wake him up, and Carolyn working on a profile. "He probably knew his killer. It could be someon ehe hurt deeply like an ex-lover. He or she wanted him to be in pain, and be scared when he died."

"Well, he's wearing a wedding ring. Maybe he's cheating on his wife, and she decided to get revenge."

"We should question her in the morning. Right now, I think I'm going home to get some sleep." She turned to leave, but was stopped by Mike grabbing her shoulders. She turned back towards him, a questioning look on her face.

"It's three in the morning. You and I both know that you don't want to drive all the way back to Brooklyn at this hour. You can crash at my place." She sighed, remembering the last time he had tried this. Last time it had taken her by surprise that he was interested. She felt almost flattered by it, but then changed her mind remembering the circumstances. "There are no ulterior motives this time, It's just late and... I worry about you."

"I'll be fine, Mike." She couldn't suppress a smile upon hearing that Mike worried about her. It was so sweet and so...not Mike.

"C'mon Caro. I promise you, no funny stuff." She wasn't sure whether it was him calling her Caro, which he had never done before, or the look in his eyes, that clearly said that he was worried about her, that changed her mind.

"Fine. I'll stay. But if you try anything..."

"I know, I know. It'll take me a month to count the bruises."

"Got that right."

The exterior was what she had expected. A somewhat shabby three story building on the Lower East Side, with a couple of drunken bums hanging around. One of which made a pass at her as they climbed up the stoop.

"Hey pretty lady, need some company tonight?" She shuddered at the thought, and flipped him the bird before Mike stepped in.

"I suggest you back off if, you know what's good for you." Mike growled threateningly, shielding Carolyn from the offender. She smiled again, at his protective side. It definitely was not a side of him she had seen before. He pulled out a set of keys, and gestured for Carolyn to go in ahead of him. Once he had closed the door to the entranceway behind him, he spoke again. "That guy's a little out of it. There's been many a time I've had to break up a fight that he started. Only thing he's afraid of is the cops."

"He seemed pretty harmless." She said, as they began to climb up the stairs to get to his apatment. "Please don't tell me you live all the way on the third floor."

"Nope. Second."

"Good." As they reached his door she had a vision of what was behind it. She had imagined it several times before, except this time, she was almost afraid of going in. She pictured overflowing trash bins, roaches running wild, paper everywhere...As Mike opened the door she got the surprise of her life.

"Now, I know it's probably not as neat as yours, but hey, I try to keep it clean." She blinked a few times, as she looked around. It almost looked like her own apartment, just smaller and a little more cluttered.

"It's not that bad, actually." She unzipped her coat, and hung it on the back of a chair. "I expected it to be a little worse."

"Well, I can always make it look like six fraternity guys live here, if you really would like to see that." She laughed.

"No, that's okay. I just need some sleep."

"Well, the bedroom's there." He pointed to a room opposite the kitchen. "Now before you ask, yes, my sheets are clean. So is the comforter. And the pillows."

"I wasn't going to ask, but it's nice to know." She smiled, as she headed for the bedroom. She stopped, as she saw the couch. "I hope you meant what you said when you told me there were no ulterior motives. That couch looks a little small."

"Relax, Barek it's a pull out." She raised her eyebrows skeptically. "Seriously. Wanna see a demonstration?"

"I'll take your word for it, Logan." She emphasized his last name, to make the point that she would rather him use her first name to address her. "'Night."

"Goodnight, Carolyn." She blushed at him using her first name, and cursed herself for doing so. Oh God, why am I blushing? All he did was call me Carolyn... She thought, as she pulled off her shoes. Am I...Oh no... She felt like smacking herself to get the idea out of her head, but at the same time she knew she couldn't run from the truth.

She was falling in love with Mike Logan.