Alex threw her pen across the room and sighed deeply. The papers spread over the desk in front of her blended together in a blur of white and chicken scratch. There seemed to be no way to get out of the legal bind she was in; the jury was going to believe Harry Callan's plea of "not guilty by reason of mental disease or defect." She could tell by watching their faces in court that day that she was not getting through to them; she had to find a simpler way to make those twelve people understand that because Callan knew what he was doing when he quit taking his anti-psychotic medication, he was responsible for the fact that he had raped three young women and inadvertently killed one of them. The defense was doing an admirable job of playing the case to the jury's emotions, making them believe that because the side effects of the medication were so undesirable, Callan was not thinking clearly when he quit taking it. The defense claimed that his judgment was impaired because all he could think about was how awful the side effects were.

When she had entered the courtroom that morning, Alex had been determined not to let the situation get out of hand. She had been determined to give the jury so many logical arguments that they would be forced to listen to the facts and not to their emotions.

When she had walked out of the courtroom at 5:30 that evening, she had felt like she had already been defeated, and the prosecution had not even rested yet.

Alex set her glasses on top of the papers and rubbed her face with her hands, pressing her fingers against her eyes. She could tell by the throbbing behind her eyes that the oncoming migraine was going to rob any chance she might have had at sleep that night.

Oh, well, she thought. It's not like I'd really get any sleep tonight anyway. Not at the way I'm bombing this case.

Sighing again, Alex began to straighten the papers on her desk, shifting them into semi-straight piles and divided up by subject matter. History case files in one pile, Callan's medical history and current files in another pile, witness lists in another pile. She had one loose page that she was not even sure she wanted to keep; it was a brainstorm of possible angles she could use. Alex chewed on her lip. Tomorrow was Wednesday and she had three arraignments; Thursday she had a hearing in family court; and Friday she was prepping two witnesses for a Grand Jury hearing beginning next week. Court was not convening again on the Callan case until Monday; she would have the weekend to research her options. "Fine," she said aloud, giving in to the voice inside that constantly told her she was going to need all the help she could get. She set the paper on top of the pile of things to go in her briefcase.

Pushing back from her desk, she got up from her chair and walked to the other side of the office to pick up the pen. Throwing a pen was the most she ever did to outwardly show her frustration; even then, she felt the need to apologize to someone, anyone, for what she considered "losing her temper."

As she stepped behind her desk and began packing her things into her soft leather briefcase, the phone on the corner of the desk rang. Startled, Alex jumped but automatically reached to pick it up.

"D.A.'s office."

"Alex, it's Olivia."

"Hey."

"Can you come down to the station? We found Jeffrey Nelson."

"Really?? Where?" "

You don't wanna know."

"Uh, okay, well..." Alex glanced over her desk. She knew she needed to take a break from it anyway.

"He lawyered up right away; won't say a word. We told his lawyer, fine, we'll just keep Jeffrey here overnight, but he wants to talk to you. Alex... he acts like he knows you. He seems to think you'll do him a favor or something."

"I'll be there in ten minutes."

"Thanks." Click.

Alex hung up the phone and frowned. She knew her share of defense attorneys from law school, even a few from undergraduate; but it was strange for one of them to think she would do them a "favor." They knew she had to do her job just as well as she knew they had to do their job. From the tone in Olivia's voice, the whole situation felt... odd.

Making sure everything for tomorrow's arraignments was in her briefcase so she could do a last-minute review that night, Alex took both the briefcase and her purse and grabbed her coat on the way out of her office. Not certain that she'd have the energy to come back tonight, she locked the door behind her before heading for the elevator. She hated elevators, but at night she hated the stairwell more. That was the worst part of being on the sixth floor: nights.

In the empty elevator, she set her purse and briefcase down so that she could put on her coat. When the doors opened on the garage level, she grabbed her purse and briefcase and hurried to get out of the elevator. She did not even bother to struggle with the buttons on her coat on the way to her car, and she did not open the passenger door to throw her things on the seat as she did when it was daylight. She unlocked the driver's side door with her remote just as she got to the car, and slid quickly in, locking the door before she put her briefcase on the passenger side floor and her purse in the seat.

At the precinct, Alex parked under the streetlight, right behind Elliot Stabler's car. She grabbed her briefcase as she got out of the car, more for security than the thought that she might actually need it.

"Alex." Olivia got up from her desk as the A.D.A. entered the room. "He's in interrogation. Hang on a sec while I get Cragen." Olivia turned and went to the out-of-the-way door of the Captain's office.

"Isn't it past your bedtime, Counselor?"

Alex turned at the sound of the familiar voice. "John. I don't see how you could know that; I know it's past yours."

"That hurts, Miss Cabot." Munch put a hand on his heart and a somber look on his face. Alex bit the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning. If he thought she found him funny, he would only be encouraged.

"Interesting. And all this time I thought you were a man of steel."

Munch opened his mouth to reply, but Olivia returned with Cragen beside her.

"Alex." The Captain nodded to her. "We have Nelson in the interrogation room with his lawyer. I wanted to be there when you talk to him. Elliot and Olivia tried to talk to him, but his lawyer has him sealing his lips. He'll have to talk to you if he wants a chance at anything less than twenty-five years to life."

Alex nodded. "Let's go."

As she passed Munch, the sleeve of his sports jacket barely brushed her arm.

"We'll finish this later, Miss Cabot," he whispered.

Alex did not even acknowledge that she had heard him, as she followed Cragen, Olivia, and Elliot back to interrogation.