Hi All.
I couldn't stay away from the Stabler/Munch/Benson/Cragen family. There's so much more to be written. I wanted to make something clear about Hannah. I pictured her looking like Amy Brenneman from 'Judging Amy.' If I had to choose an actress to play Hannah on screen, it would be Amy Brenneman. Hannah's character is based on "Amy Gray" and "Maxine Gray," from the show. A complete cross of the two. Well spoken, yet slightly insecure, with a real passion for helping people. Always rising to the occasion, and bursting through the ceiling with heart, compassion, and caring.
So, Hannah is a young version of Amy Brenneman/Amy Gray.
I hope you enjoy this next story. Its no where near done, and I hope you stick it out with me! Please review!
Hannah smiled as she leaned back in the chair. She was at her mother's desk, as an intern for the two prosecuters. At 22, she was a Harvard grad, top of her class, and passed the bar with easy. And those were her words as she explained it to her parents and sister, Hope. Hannah grinned when she looked at the picture on Alex's desk. It was of the whole family, extended included. They'd been at Don's house for Sunday dinner, as almost always. Hope was probably 13 or so when the picture was taken.
The last three years had changed the sisters a lot. Hope was legally adopted by John and Alex just after she turned twelve, and changed her name to Hope Alexa Munch. Hope was now 16, doing well in school, and a regualr visitor at Elliot and Olivia Stabler's house. She looked so much like Hannah now no one asked if they were sister; it was just assumed.
John was fighting retirement. Don was forced to put him at a desk when he turned 65, and Elliot chose to uphold that. Stabler refused to force retirement. Now, close to 80, he was enjoying his desk more; chasing perps was for the young. Elliot had opened his mouth once to say something, but a bald joke sent him back into his office, rubbing his smooth top. He'd comment that when he started, he had a full head of hair, it was the squad that too the top-half off.
Hannah loved the dynamic of the squad. She enjoyed watching them on slow days, when there weren't a whole lot of cases to be solved. They were a family, just as the unit had been years ago, when Hannah was young. She would look down from the stairs, and could imagine seeing Elliot and John at their desks, Fin not too far away at his, cracking jokes, and Don Cragen in his office, observing, like Hannah. Those days were long gone now, but the feeling of family remained. Maureen had claimed Elliot's desk now, and her current partner, Denver Smith, was hiding behind paperwork. John and Fin were still at their desks. Little had changed between the two. They were older, balder, and a bit bigger than they once were, but Hannah couldn't see the squad room without the two of them.
"Hannah, can you run this to Elliot for me?"
"Sure, Casey." Hannah always jumped at the chance to go back to that squad room. Her first memory of the room was from a few days after she was released into foster care. Her social worker brought her in to meet with Elliot to give an official statement. She remembered Elliot saying to her, 'We're here to help you. We're never going to let him hurt you again. All you gotta do it tell us what happened, Hannah.' She'd nodded, but bit her lip and looked for John. Elliot had smiled very kindly at her. 'You are safe here.' She'd never been safe, and this was new to her. But she'd trusted Elliot. He rescued her. He and John were her heros.
Maureen uncuffed the woman and sat across from her. They glared at one another for several minutes before Maureen spoke.
"You made three mistakes back there."
"Oh?"
"Your first one was a big one; you commited a crime in my burrow." Elliot watched his daughter work. They were so alike. Except she had no rage. Maureen was pure logic. Oh, she was pissed off, but there wasn't the rage that Elliot had.
"And my other two?"
"You got caught." Maureen sipped her coffee. "And you underestimated me. See, being a cop is genetic. My father is a cop, his father, and even my step-mom is a cop. Being a good cop is also genetic. My father's a damn good cop, just don't piss him off."
"You piss him off?"
"Nope. I've seen someone piss him off."
"Yeah...sure."
"So, you have two options. You can confess, and they may reduce your sentence to 25-life, or we could go through a long, dirty, mess trial, and you could get the needle."
"You could kiss my ass." Maureen smiled at the woman.
"Choice B., then?" Maureen stood and walked to the door. "We have your hairs on 5 of the victems, and your blood dripping away from where we found the 11 bodies. Four of those bodies were your own cihldren. We're still trying to identify the other seven."
"Have fun." Maureen felt her blood burn through her body. "And good luck, by the way, proving that I did anything. Hairs on my children mean nothing."
"We'll see about that." Maureen calmly closed the door behind her and left the area.
"Maur?"
"Not now, Captain," she hissed, jogging up the stairs. Elliot followed her through the precint to the gym where she went postal on a large punching bag. Elliot stood behind the bag to give it stability. Maureen stopped when her father held the bag.
"Its why its here, Honey."
"I," she said punching the bag. "Hate." Punch. "The Puss-sucking-" Punch. Punch. "Scum-" Kick. "In This CITY!" Punch, Punch kick. The final blow to the bag knocked Elliot over. "Dad-"
"I'm fine." He couched and pulled himself to his feet. "Need to let loose more. You're 35 years old. You keep it all, in, you'll have a heart attack."
"I have half a mind to go down there and give her aonce-over." Maureen socked the bag again, determined as her father had always known her. "Her own children."
"Maur, we had a case like this about 17 years ago. I got taken off. I will take you off if I need to."
"Why'd you get taken off?"
"One of the victims was wearing a shirt...little bears all over it. Pajama shirt."
"I had one similar-"
"It was the same shirt, and I froze." Elliot looked away. "They took me off the case and sent me home for a week." Maureen nodded. "Do I need to take you off this case?"
"Are you asking as my captain, or my dad?"
"Both."
"As my dad, don't. I'm okay, Dad. As my Captain, Don't take me off my case, Dammit! I will raise hell like you've never heard." Elliot smiled lightly at his daughter. "And, as my captain, I'm okay. All Right?"
"Okay."
"Ma?" the child called into the dark house. "Ma? Are you okay?"
"Get out," came a soft reply. "Get out of my house." Her words slurred together, and the child knew. His mother was drunk again.
"Mom?" Allie called into the house. "Mom, I'm home!"
"How was piano?" Allie shrugged. "Casey giving you trouble?"
"I need to practice more." Liv sighed and pointed at the piano, smiling. Allie muddled through the sheet music weakly. "I'm not that good. I'm 14, and can't play twinkle twinkle, little -freakin- star." Olivia rested hands on her daughter's shoulders.
"Do you love it?"
"No. I don't. I could go without it any time. But," she said. "I don't know what I'd do without my guitar. Its so much more fun."
"Maybe your brother could teach you."
"Dickie? I don't think so. He's too busy with his own life." Olivia planted a kiss on her daughter's head. "Jimmy wanted to know if I could go camping with him, Robbie, and Alexander next weekend."
"Talk to your dad. Its his weekend with you." Allie frowned. "Hey, divorce affects all of us, not just me and you.
"Maybe we can reschedule the camping trip, or Dad'll switch with you." Olivia nodded. She and Elliot were trying to take the high road, and allow Allie and Elijah to go between the apartments as they saw fit, as long as they didn't take advantage of their parents. "Mom, you love him."
"Allison-"
"Why can't you give it another chance?" Olivia sighed. "You talk on the phone with him every night, you spend time together with me and Eli, and you flirt like you used to before you got together."
"Now how would you know?"
"Maureen, Kathy, Liz, Dickie, Casey, Don, Alex and John."
"Allison, we're divorced. We're divorced for a reason. Can you try to accept that?" Allie looked down. "He left me, Allie. He didn't want to be married to me anymore."
"He misses you, Ma."
"I miss him, too, honey."
Don't kill! Just read!!!