The reports of my death

by romansilence

Stuck in the timeline of "Continuum" Colonel Samantha Carter gets another chance at love and happiness, while Alex and Olivia also get the chance to mend some fences. Alex/olivia and Sam/Janet.

Disclaimer: The characters and background stories of the TV-shows "Stargate: SG-1", "Stargate: Continuum" and "Law & Order: Special Victims Unit" do not belong to me, unfortunately. I only take them out to play. No copyright infringement is intended, no profit will be made.

Timeline: This is an alternate universe to "Stargate: Continuum" which I synchronised with the beginning of Season 10 of "Law & Order: Special Victims Unit" with the difference that Kim Greyleck never made an appearance.

Sexual Disclaimer: This story operates on the conviction that sexual relationships between consenting adult women are completely normal. There even might be a graphic description somewhere along the line.

Summary: Starting a new life with a new identity can have a positive side if the Fates are kind.

The Reports of my Death…

by

romansilence

Samantha Carter was lying on her bed in her new apartment and stared at the ceiling. She was seething, though to all outward appearances she was as relaxed as one can be without being asleep or unconscious. Only someone who knew her well would recognise the anger in her posture and her eyes.

Less than twenty-four hours ago they had put her on a plane and sent her off to her new life. She had been pleasantly surprised when they had told her that she would live in New York. Admittedly it was not a city she would have chosen as her new residence but it was better than Hoboken, Texas or any other small town. It was easier not to draw attention to oneself if one lived in a metropolis of a few million people than in a hamlet of only a few hundred.

During the commercial flight from Colorado Springs to New York she had studied the new C.V. they had manufactured for her, and what she read was so far from her real personality that she doubted she would be able to play the part efficiently. They had made her into one of her worst nightmares. Susan Carrington was the incarnation of the stereotypical computer nerd, socially inept, shy to the point of avoiding human contact. Yes, she had been uncomfortable with social gatherings, until she had met Janet, but she had learned…

The job they had her do seemed to be the one concession this timeline's President and General had made after she had told them that they'd do better to keep her locked up than keep her from any work that could hold her interest. Checking the integrity of security codes and programs from her home office certainly was not as exciting as stepping through the gate or leading Atlantis but it had at least the potential of being interesting.

Sam's new apartment was on the fourth floor of an old brownstone in Manhattan. There was not much of a view but it had a certain lived-in charm to which she could easily get used. It only needed a bit of a personal touch. The home office had a big window and what looked like a state of the art computer system on a simple desk. The office chair seemed to be ergonomically comfortable and she knew that she would hate it. The bathroom had no bathtub but a big shower stall with multiple shower heads. The single bed in the adjoining bedroom looked comfortable enough but the next shock came when she opened the wardrobe doors. Susan Carrington's supposed sense of fashion bordered on the abysmal and Samantha Carter would have been embarrassed to give such atrocious clothes to charity.

Even the clothes of that blonde witch in the Buffy show Cassie had loved so much as a teen would have to be considered fashionable in comparison.

No one should be forced to walk around like a living and breathing scarecrow. But the money in her account was more than enough to rectify this particular problem.

Sam snorted at her own naivety. As if that had been the only point where the authorities of this timeline had broken their word.

She had cooperated and given them all the technical information they had asked for. She even had worked with their timeline's Rodney Mckay who was an even greater idiot than hers had ever been. She had agreed to stay away from careers in astrophysics or engineering and basically stay under the radar of public attention. She even had let them put the tiny GPS transponder in her arm, so that they could monitor her whereabouts. She once again had been the model soldier and had even convinced Cam and Daniel to agree to their conditions. In return they had promised that they would be allowed to live their new lives without any further kind of surveillance and would be allowed to choose their future path without their input.

What a joke. That clearly had been a promise they never had intended to keep.

Sam took a deep breath and tried to keep her still lingering anger at bay. Not only were they trying to make her into someone she was not and could never be, they also had broken their word about the surveillance.

When she had returned from her dinner at a cosy hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant two blocks away she had seen the unmarked sedan parked right in front of the entrance of her house. Most of the windows had been fogged over but she immediately had recognised the outline of two men, one of them had marked something on a notepad when she opened the front door.

Ascending the stairs to her apartment she had told herself that the two men could just as well have been cops on a stake-out and had nothing to do with her, but then she had found the security cameras. There was one in every room of her new home, easily recognizable if you knew what you're looking for. After that finding the Trojan they had installed to monitor her internet access barely a minute after having booted up the desktop computer had not been a surprise, and neither had the fact that the so-called 'sensitive' security codes she should check were more than just a little out of date, even for their timeline. She then had found two more surveillance programs and a clever little virus that would crash her hard drive should she even try to break a government password or any other encryption code.

The problem was that they all had been too easy to find, much too easy, but she would be damned before she would allow those lying bastards to control her life and turn it into a peep show.

Yes, the Samantha Carter of this world was dead, but Susan Carrington would not be the meek little mouse they wanted her to be.

Despite her anger Sam tried to weigh her options rationally. From what she had overheard at the base she knew that the authorities saw her as more dangerous than Cam and Daniel combined. If they only knew what Daniel was capable of if provoked, she thought. At the same time they wanted to keep her as an ace up their sleeves should Daniel's and her dire prognosis about Ba'al attacking Earth really come to pass sooner or later. Sam was honest enough with herself to know that despite her eagerness to restore her old timeline she would not be able to idly stand by should they ask for her help.

And, she ruefully thought, that's the main reason why you don't just remove the transmitter in your arm and drop off their radar. No, her options were rather limited. General Landry had made it more than clear that they had no qualms to throw them into a cell and lose the key should they turn out to be too much trouble. But that didn't mean that she would give up without a fight.

Sam smiled up at the ceiling and relaxed. Tomorrow she would recreate Susan Carrington, if they liked it or not, a total makeover.

-x-x-x-

Her Google search the next morning showed her that all the shops she would need were in walking distance from her new home. So, she packed the horrid clothes she sure as she had blown up a sun would never wear in an equally horrid duffle bag and put it right next to the front door.

Sam then positioned herself right in front of the living room camera and said, "You broke the promises you gave me. I'm still willing to keep my part of our deal, but I will do it my way. I want you to remove the cameras, all of them, and if you're at it, also get rid of those ridiculous clothes. I'll debug the computer myself, so you won't have to bother. I'll be gone for about three to four hours; that should be more than enough time for you to take out the trash."

Sam's first stop was the surveillance team in front of her door. It was the same car at exactly the same distance from her front door but two different agents or officers. The two men had been replaced by a man and a woman. She knocked on the passenger side's window.

"Good morning, you should call your commanding officers or whomever gives you your orders. They might change soon. And for your next surveillance job…, I know parking spots are a rare commodity in this town but with the same car in the same spot you're standing out like a straight woman in an exclusively male gay bar. I'm going shopping, don't bother following me."

According to Google there was an ATM machine right around the next corner. She withdrew the maximum amount of money and smiled when she saw the woman to whom she just had spoken in its reflective surface. So, instead of going directly to the first shop on her mental list, Sam decided to do some window shopping first. She ambled down the street like a tourist out for a stroll.

After about twenty minutes and four blocks she stopped in front of a hairdresser's shop to see if the woman was still following her. A sign in the window proclaimed that here at Jonnie's Dream they specialised in making all styling dreams come true and could turn even Cinderella's sisters into beautiful princesses. Sam studied the brightly coloured interior of the shop for a moment. It practically screamed gay. She made a split second decision and stepped inside, leaving her female shadow behind.

With her hair in a ponytail, dressed in a simple pair of not very close fitting jeans, a light-blue sweater and a pair of sneakers, she knew that she must look much too conservative to enter a shop like this. She secretly was glad that she had left the ugly glasses they had given her at the apartment. A slightly distracted looking young man wearing tight black jeans and a half-opened sleeveless leather vest turned towards her.

"How may we help you? Have you lost your way, ma'am?" He asked, stepped around the counter and studied her openly. "You look just like that astronaut who died a couple of years back."

Sam smiled at him. He was really making it easy for her. "So I'm told, yes, frankly its starting to get on my nerves a bit. Your add out there says you can perform miracles. Can you make me look not like her without cutting off my hair?"

His interest was sparked and he told her to take a seat in front of a mirror. "I have ten minutes before my next appointment. I'll have a look at your hair structure and your face and we will see."

While he undid the ponytail, analysed one of her hairs under a microscope and walked around her with a thoughtful expression on his face, Sam studied herself in the body-length mirror. Over the last weeks she had become accustomed to the drab clothes they had given to her and the others after the first round of debriefings. They had argued that none of them was a member of their military and that they thus had no right to wear their uniforms, even without rank insignia. She smiled ruefully at her image in the mirror. Even without the glasses she looked like a geek.

"The good news is we will not need a miracle to change your look. The bad news is that I can't do it right now. I have clients for the next three hours but if you'd like to come back then it won't be a problem."

"Three hours, sounds good to me. It'll give me enough time to do some shopping. My hair is not the only thing that needs a make-over."

It was three hours and ten minutes later when Sam once again entered Jonnie's Dream. Her shadow had disappeared more than two hours ago. She had exchanged the boring, slightly oversized jeans and sweater with a pair of dark brown form fitting leather slacks, a white T-shirt under a men's white silk shirt and a leather jacket matching her trousers. She had found the jacket and trousers in a second hand shop, so she had not to break in the leather first and it felt as if she had never worn anything else.

Sam knew that the combination made her look like the stereotypical butch, but during her nightly thinking session it had come to her that this new name, this new life also gave her the chance to embrace parts of her character which she never before had dared to let loose.

There had been two passions in her life, loving Janet and going through the Stargate, and before the SGC her passion had been to be the best officer the Air Force ever had. Playing pool, riding a bike, tinkering with any motorcycle or other engines she could get her hands on had been nothing more than a hobby, but she always had known that had circumstances been different she could have well made it into much more than just a pastime. Now, she had the chance.

It certainly was not something that would satisfy her for the rest of her life, Sam thought, but for the moment, for the next couple of months it would be like some sort of prolonged vacation from reality. And she would enjoy this vacation.

-x-x-x-

It was in the middle of the night and Sam was walking straight ahead a couple of months later. To the outside observer she looked like someone who hurried home from a late night out, in reality she walked away from her apartment. In her own timeline, at the SGC or in Atlantis she just would have walked into her lab and worked after a nightmare had driven her out of bed. But here, in this new life she had nothing to do after she had worked through a full month's worth of decoding in four days without overtime.

Thanks to Jonny, the hair dresser who had turned her blonde hair into an alluring dark mane, she also had a day job, so to speak. He had introduced her to a friend who owned a bike shop and had accepted her as a part-time employee after she had fine tuned an old Harley that had given him problems. Susan Carrington had a key but she didn't want to burden this part of her new life with the shadows of Sam Carter's past. So, she had started to walk to rid herself of her restlessness, through deserted alleys and crowded streets lined with bars and strip parlours, and that night was no exception.

A month from now, Sam thought ruefully, she would know this part of town almost as well as the corridors at Cheyenne Mountain, almost as well as the floorboards in Janet's house.

A commotion at the other side of the street pulled her from her thoughts. She saw six men in the cone of light sent from the street light above. Four were facing the other two, and she recognised one of them as Jonny, the hair dresser.

Jonny not only had introduced her to Luke from the bike shop. He had also given her the low-down on her new home, had told her where best to shop and many other things. So, Susan/Sam stopped by his shop every few days just to talk and get to know a few of his friends. The shop was more than just a hair dresser it was also some sort of meeting point for the GLBT community of the area, and they had welcomed Susan Carrington with open arms. A few of the lesbians had even been more than friendly, but Sam/Susan could still not let go of the ghost of the only woman she had really loved.

Sam hesitated for a moment but when the four men started to beat up Jonny and his friend up she crossed the street in a hurry. Jonny tried to defend himself, but it was obvious that he didn't stand a chance against the two men who had ganged up on him, one holding him from behind, the other hitting him hard. His companion, so far, was only pushed around, but Sam knew that would not last.

From twenty yards away she shouted at them to distract their attention but they didn't even turn their heads. Sam ran and arrived just in time to keep one of them from kicking Jonny's friend in the head with a steel-tipped boot. She kicked him hard in the shin with her motorcycle boots and followed up with a right hook that broke his nose and sent him to the pavement.

The attacker who had been holding him down turned his attention to her. He was at least a head taller with upper arms almost as thick as her thighs and rippling with muscles. He tried to intimidate her with his bulk, as she had known he would. He even told her that he didn't hit 'girls' and to go home to Mommy. She answered that she had no qualms taking down cowards. That was all it needed for him to attack her.

He charged her like a bull a red flag. Sam used his momentum against him, threw him over her shoulder, right on top of his friend who was still trying to stop his broken nose from bleeding. She ordered Jonny's companion to dial 9-1-1 and call in an assault. She also told him to call for an ambulance. By then the second attacker was back on his feet. He held a police baton in his right hand but his left arm just dangled from his shoulder. Must have dislocated it, Sam thought while she ducked his first clumsy stab. She sidestepped his next two attempts. He obviously didn't know how to use his weapon to its best advantage and that gave her the opening she needed.

She ducked under his defences and got close enough to ram her knee in his groin. He howled in pain and dropped the baton to instinctively protect his manhood from further abuse. Sam stepped back as he bent down and delivered a hard right to his chin. He fell to the ground, unconscious.

His howl of pain had finally gotten the other two men to let go of Jonny and focus on her. She told them that the police was on the way and that they'd better run as long as there was time. They laughed and told her that they would have fun with her as soon as she had learned her place.

Their leering was a bit sickening but Sam decided to use their over confidence to her advantage and stall them as long as she could, "And where would that be? Barefoot in the kitchen?"

"Bound to the bed and fucked seven ways to Sunday," one of them said.

"Oh really? Is your equipment so small that no woman worth that name would stay voluntarily or do you just don't know how to use it?"

Uh, that might have been the wrong thing to say, Sam thought while she danced out of the way of the knife that had suddenly materialised in his hand. He held himself well balanced on his feet and the way he held the jack knife spoke of experience. Sam wished for Teyla's fighting batons or at least for the Ka-Bar she no longer had. The fourth man was trying to circle around to get to her from behind. It looked like those two were used to work together against their prey. Not good, not good at all. Let's hope that you have not bitten off more than you can chew, Sammy, she thought.

Out of the corner of her eyes Sam saw that Jonny's friend was dragging him to the side, away from the fighting. Sam approved; that way it would be harder to use them as leverage and she could solely focus on their attackers. The first man was back on his feet and he joined attacker number four in his efforts to sandwich her. It's risky but knife-guy is the greater threat. Holly Hannah, even my thoughts sound like Jack O'Neill, Sam snickered internally.

She allowed them to come close enough to almost touch her and darted forwards. Before the knife could touch her she dropped to the ground and swept his feet from under him. Her hand-to-hand combat lessons with Teyla came back to her. She put her hands on the pavement and kicked out with both feet. Her right boot connected with something soft, a stomach, she guessed; her left foot with something hard, probably a hip bone.

Her hope to get both of them in one move was quickly squashed when she was grabbed from behind as soon as she had jumped up to her feet. One strong arm squeezed her throat; the other was around her waist. Her peripheral vision showed her that attacker number two was still out cold and that her kicks had felled the first man who now was curled up in a ball. Sam heard the screeching of tires coming around a corner nearby but no sirens. The man with the knife was slowly coming closer. Now that she appeared to be in a secure hold he seemed to want to take his time. Probably hoping to see fear in my eyes, Sam grinned grimly, Bullies were all the same, regardless if here or in the Pegasus galaxy. And they all had the same weakness: they overestimated themselves and often underestimated their intended victims.

Sam let herself sink against her captor's chest, close enough to feel his hard-on. She used him as an anchor to kick the other man in the chest. He stumbled backwards and her captor had to shift his stance to compensate for her movements. That allowed her to turn around in his grip, deliver a swift kick to the knee and ram her head against his chin. He pushed her away and she stumbled but had just enough balance left to follow up with a kick to the groin. Unfortunately she stumbled right into the knife of the third man. She felt a searing pain in her left side. She propelled herself around and delivered a flying left hook to the side of his face.

And suddenly doors were slamming and she heard shouts of "NYPD! Freeze!" coming from two sides. Her last opponent started running. Sam picked up the police baton and threw it. It hit the back of his knees and he went down. Oblivious to the plain-clothed policemen Sam walked over to Jonny and his friend to make sure that they would be alright 'til the ambulance got to them.

Sam knelt down, careful not to jar her injured side. Jonny's left eye was swollen shut, and he visibly had trouble breathing, "Let me check you out, Jonny."

"Stomped on my fingers, they hurt," he whispered.

"Try to move them, one after the other."

"Hurts."

"I know; try anyway," Sam said softly but with enough authority in her voice to let him give his best and his fingers obediently moved up and down, curled into a fist and stretched them again.

"That's it," Sam froze for a moment because she felt a presence at her side but decided to ignore the woman for the time being. "See, those talented digits will be back to do wonders with your clients' hair in no time. It's probably only bruised, nothing a couple of cold packs and some TLC won't cure."

"You were incredi…" Jonny coughed, and he coughed blood.

"Damn those bastards." Sam turned around and looked at a woman with dark brown eyes. "I need a medic, ASAP."

"EMT will be here in another ten minutes, fifteen at most."

"That's too long. He probably has a punctured lung. Do you have a field kit, I mean a first aid kit?"

The woman nodded and went to retrieve it from one of the squad cars. Sam looked at Jonny's friend. There was a strong family resemblance and she remembered a conversation they had had a couple of days ago about his little brother coming to visit.

"You are Michael, right? Jonny's brother?"

He nodded with wide eyes.

"My name is Susan, and I'll need your help to help your brother, alright?" He nodded again, but she could see how frightened he still was. "Take Figaro's hand, Mikey, make him feel that you're here and that you're fine. Talk to him and make him look at you."

The woman with the brown eyes was back and handed her the first aid kit.

"ETA on the ambulance?" Sam asked.

"Still ten minutes out, but who the hell are you, a doctor?"

"No, I'm not a doctor, but I know what I'm doing. My name is Susan Carrington, and you are?"

"Detective Olivia Benson, Special Victims Unit. How can I help?"

"Put the thermal blanket on the ground. He needs to be flat on his back for me to find out which of his ribs are broken. – Hey, Figaro, you still with us?"

"I'd rather not, Susan."

"Believe me I know, but I need you to stay awake while I check you out. I promise, I'll be as gentle as I can."

Jonny nodded and turned his head towards his brother who had started shivering. Sam saw it too, "Detective Benson, could you have one of your colleagues get a blanket for him. He's going into shock."

Olivia signalled a tall man with short hair and he didn't need more than a look at the young man to shrug out of his NYPD jacket and put it around Michael's shoulders. That taken care of Olivia helped Susan/Sam to transfer Jonny on the silver blanket. Sam cut off his shirt and put her hands on both sides of his ribcage. For a moment images from a Xena episode she had seen years ago with Cassie flashed through her mind of Xena taking her breast dagger to make an incision on the chest of a soldier and putting in a reed to allow him to breathe again. She shock her head at the idea.

"Try to breathe as regularly as you can, Figaro." Sam closed her eyes and concentrated on what she had learned from Janet. 'If the chest falls on one side when inhaling there are at least three fractured ribs. Don't do anything stupidly heroic like trying to poke a needle in; that takes experience you don't have. Put the patient on the injured side and keep the airway clear, put him or her on oxygen or an aspirator if you have one.'

"Listen, my friend," Sam explained what she had found and what she would do. "The medics will be here soon. You'll only have to hold out for a few more minutes."

"Detective Benson, I'll need your help. He has to rest on his side but I don't want to roll him over. It could do more damage. Help me to lift him and put him on his side."

"Stable side position?" Olivia asked.

"Close but more erect, like for doing callisthenics. On three?"

Jonny cried out in pain when his injured side came in contact with the blanket and the hard pavement, "I'm sorry, Jonny."

"Not your fault, saved us," he whispered, "owe you."

"No, you don't. Who else would keep my hair in style."

Sam removed her jacket and put it behind Jonny's back to stabilise him. That exposed her injured side and the blood that had soaked her white T-shirt.

"You're bleeding," Olivia said unnecessarily.

"It's just a scratch, Detective Benson. The knife went right through and I would have keeled over a long time ago if it had hit any internal organs. I'm fine. Where's that damned ambulance? His breathing is getting more ragged by the minute and this kit doesn't contain anything I could use as an aspirator."

"I'm such an idiot," Olivia said and sprinted to one of the cars. She came back with a small, half-litre oxygen tank complete with mouth and nose guard. "Here, it was a gag gift to my partner but it's fully functional."

"Thanks, that's just what I needed. Alright, Jonny, I'll put this over your mouth and nose and I want you to breathe slowly and regularly. Don't worry about anything else. I'll hold it for you."

"I'll do it," a deep voice from behind said. "Let Liv dress your wound. The bus that was on the way to us is now part of a pile-up on the Boulevard. They dispatched another two, given that our perps also need medical attention, but it will take another quarter hour."

Sam saw the determined set of the black man's jaw, "I'll let her patch me up, but you have to call me should he lose consciousness and talk to him, keep him from thinking."

"I'll try my best, and now, scoot."

Sam smiled through the pain as she got up but obviously not convincing enough for Detective Benson, "I have the feeling that you are going to be a big pain in my backside, Miss Carrington."

"Since you're going to see me half naked, call me Susan, would you?"

"Half naked?"

"The knife perforated my skin about an inch above my waistline. For you to clean it I'll have to pull down my jeans a bit."

"Then let's go over there, behind the cars; that should be out of sight of our perps; and since I'm going to see you half naked, call me Olivia."

Sam unceremoniously undid her belt and jeans and pulled the fabric down. She then pulled her shirt up and leaned slightly against the sedan with her right side.

"What were you thinking? That's not a scratch. It's a deep laceration and will need stitches," Olivia said.

"I know. I just didn't want to worry Jonny. So, while you put some band-aid on my owie, why don't you tell me about your involvement. I thought Special Victims hunted rapists and such. What do you have to do with a hate crime?"

"If the four men you apprehended tonight are the ones we're looking for then they would not have stopped with beating you up. They also would have raped your friends."

Sam hissed as the antiseptic was sprayed on her wound but she quickly got back to the topic at hand, "So, it hasn't been their first time. That explains why at least two of them worked together like a team. From what they said to Jonny and his brother I don't see how they could have sodomised them."

"They sodomise their victims with a police baton or something similar and then ejaculate on their victims. So far we have three dead and two in a coma. The only thing that doesn't fit their M.O. is you. They only attacked gay couples or single gay men. So, it could be that they're just some random gay bashers."

"I don't think so, Olivia. I wasn't with Jonny when they were attacked. I was on a late night walk on the other side of the street when I saw those four harassing and attacking two other men. It was only at second glance that I recognised my hair dresser."

"All done, Susan. Here, take these, they're painkillers."

"I'll pass, Olivia, I'm allergic. My side already feels much better, and I think I hear sirens coming closer. I want to check on Jonny before the ambulance arrives."

"As I said, Susan, you're a pain, but go on Wonder Woman, do what you think you have to do."

"I can live with being a pain, as long as I don't become a thorn in your side," Sam answered with a bright smile, and as soon as the words had left her mouth she berated herself for flirting with this stranger. She was relieved when Olivia simply took it in stride.

Olivia and Sam rode with Jonny to St. Patrick's Hospital with Elliot Stabler, Olivia's partner, and Jonny's still agitated brother, Michael following in the unmarked Sedan. The rest of Manhattan's Special Victims Unit, Odafin Tutuola and John Munch, together with two other EMT units and a couple of uniforms transported their suspects, their perps to the prison wing of Bellevue Hospital.

In the bus Sam gave Olivia a cliff notes' version of the events and promised to write a thorough report as soon as Jonny would be in surgery. That, however, turned out to be an overly optimistic view since Sam was ushered into an examination cubicle at the ER as soon as she had stepped out of the ambulance. She cast Olivia an angry stare but only received a non-committal shrug of the shoulders in return.

There was a flurry of activity suddenly unfolding all around Sam. She tried to tell them not to give her any painkillers but before she had a chance there was an oxygen mask on her face. She felt a needle prick at the inside of her right elbow, and soon after the world started to go grey. And then it faded.

-x-x-x-

"We got the results from the tox screen, but they don't make any sense," the lab technician said entering the treatment cubicle.

"She has developed a high grade fever. What do you mean, it makes no sense? And what brings you up from your lab, anyway?"

"Just what I said, Doctor Sally. There's no sign of alcohol or other recreational drugs but apart from that the blood work is not like anything I've ever seen," the man from the lab looked down at Sam who had become deadly pale and was restraint to keep her from thrashing around in her fever. "Hmm, she looks normal, not like the alien from outer space her blood work makes her out to be."

"And the next thing you'll tell me is that she's the victim of a government experiment gone wrong, right, Tony? Let me have a look at this."

Sally's eyes went wide as she studied the print-out Tony had brought up. In her almost thirty years of practice as a physician she had never seen something even remotely similar.

Tony allowed himself a satisfied smirk at her evident surprise and waved her good-bye to return to his lab, "Tony, wait. Before you return to the bat-cave tell the nurses' station to inquire in the waiting room if there's someone out there for her. Her name is Susan Carrington; they might be able to tell us more."

"Will do, Sally. Keep me posted on her. I sense a mystery here and you know…"

"Yes, I know, you can't resist a mystery. Now, scoot."

Two minutes later Olivia pushed the curtain aside and entered the cubicle. When she saw Sam's pale face and the restraints she asked, "What the hell happened here? She was just supposed to get some stitches."

"I don't know. That's why I asked for you. Miss Carrington developed a high fever only minutes after we sedated her to treat the knife wound. By the way, my name is Doctor Sally Beaumont, and you are?"

Olivia automatically pulled her shield and ID, "Detective Olivia Benson, Special Victims Unit."

"Special Victims? Should we do a rape kit?"

"Miss Carrington stopped a gay bashing, possibly even a double rape-homicide, Doctor, and apprehended the perps. That's how she was injured. At the scene when I bandaged her side she said that she's allergic to painkillers. She didn't say anything about sedatives, but it also didn't come up. Could it be some kind of allergic reaction?"

"You might just be on to something, Detective. Could you stay here for a moment and keep an eye on her temperature? I have to order some additional tests. Press the call button if her temperature rises by more than a half degree."

-x-x-x-

"You're hard to find, Boss," Sally said in the receiver.

"You told me to enjoy an evening free from interruptions with a good dinner and a beautiful woman, Sally. You even set up this date if memory serves."

"I know, Boss, and I'm sorry to interrupt, but we have a patient here with a high fever and the strangest blood work I've ever seen. I can't make heads or tails of it. It's simply weird, and you're our expert for weird."

"Let Tony run the blood. He's the best."

"I already did, twice. He even came up from his lab to see the, and I quote, alien from outer space, end quote. Her temperature is at one-O-four point six and still rising. We really need you, Boss."

"What do we know about the patient's medical history?"

Sally filled her in on the few things she knew.

"Alright. Take her off any meds and put her in a bath. The water should have normal body temperature then lower the temperature by one degree every two minutes. I'll be there as soon as I can."

What she didn't say was that she was extremely relieved at the chance to get out of this date before the woman bored her to death with her talk about portfolios and funds. It was strange, once she had listened to endless monologues about the stars and the origin of our universe without being bored a single second, but that might have had something to do with the woman doing the talking.

-x-x-x-

Despite the murmured protests of one of the nurses Olivia stayed close to Sam, or rather Susan Carrington, when they put her in the rapidly being cooled down bathtub. She averted her eyes, but she stayed close.

She knew it would be more professional to simply leave her number at the nurse's desk and have them call her as soon as the witness regained consciousness. She should go back to the squad room and write her report or at the very least she should try to find out about the status of this evening's victims.

However, there was something about this woman that intrigued her. It could only have been the fact that she had risked her life to help others without being a fire fighter or a police officer. But there was something more, something that seemed familiar and yet not familiar, and she couldn't put her finger on it.

Olivia thought back to the last seconds of the fight she had seen. The way the dark haired woman had moved, it had not looked like any kind of martial arts or self defence technique she had ever seen. If she would have been asked to describe it Olivia would have to settle for a stereotype 'as graceful as a jungle cat' – and possibly as deadly. What intrigued her the most, however, was that she instantly had felt comfortable in the woman's presence, extremely comfortable to the point of flirting with her – and that had not happened since…

Olivia shock herself out of her musings. No, you will not think about her. She's in the past. She doesn't want to have anything to do with you. Get her out of your head.

Suddenly the door to the room they were in was forcefully pushed open. A short woman in a lab coat came in and stopped in mid-stride as soon as her eyes fell on the still face of her dark-haired patient. The rebounding door would have hit her right in the back of her head if not for Olivia's reflexes.

Oblivious to everything and everyone the newcomer stepped closer to the tub and looked at the stricken woman. Her eyes wandered from her face to a certain point at her right hip. Even distorted by the water the doctor recognised a birthmark in the shape of a dolphin.

No, it couldn't be. Sam was dead. She died thirty-five months and seventeen days ago. She was dead.

Without thinking the doctor knelt at the side of the tub. She removed the wrist restraint and took the right hand between her smaller ones.

A sound escaped her throat. To Olivia's ears it sounded like a sob but when she focused she heard a name, "Sam, my Sammy."

The tender reassuring touch seemed to somehow have registered with the feverish patient: her fingers twitched slightly and she moaned. Her ragged breathing began to slow and even out.

The woman in the lab coat was still unaware that she was not alone with the patient. Olivia considered making her presence known by loudly clearing her throat, but then Susan Carrington opened her eyes. It took her breath away and she was surprised that she had not seen it earlier. Susan's eyes were blue, the exact same shade of blue as Alex' eyes. Was that why she felt so comfortable with this stranger?, Olivia mused. It would explain a lot. But that let to more thoughts about Alexandra Cabot, unwanted thoughts.

The other occupants of the room were still oblivious and Olivia decided to break the spell. She knelt at the other side of the tub and removed the other wrist restraint. Instead of checking who had freed her the naked woman moved her trembling hand on top of the doctor's hand. She whispered a name that sounded like "Jan", no "Janet", and there was so much wonder and love in her voice it was almost painful to hear.

Olivia studied them from the side. Alex' intense blue eyes stared into brown orbs that reminded her a bit of what she saw every time she looked into a mirror. For a fleeting moment Olivia hoped Alex would still look at her this way. She quietly stood up, left the room and closed the door behind her.

She knew that the sensible thing to do would be to alert a nurse, inquire about the victims and finally return to the squad room, but she couldn't bring herself to do that. She didn't want anyone to invade the privacy of those two strangers; so, she took a position next to the door.

-x-x-x-

Olivia felt somewhat ridiculous standing guard, but on an instinctual level it also felt like the right thing to do – and as usual when there was nothing else to occupy her mind she thought about Alex, about what they once had shared and about what could have happened that her former lover no longer wanted to have anything to with her or anyone else who had been part of her former life after her release from the witness protection program almost a year ago.

An older woman whose blonde hair shone white tried to enter the room and Olivia stopped her at the last second. She recognised her as the doctor who had questioned her earlier, Doctor Beaumont.

"There's already someone in there with Miss Carrington, Doctor, a Doctor Fraiser according to her nametag. I'm sure that she'll call should she need anything and the call sign above the door is not blinking."

"Did Doctor Fraiser send you out, Detective?" Sally asked.

"In a manner of speaking. I'm not sure if she even was aware that I was there. She only had eyes for her patient, for Miss Carrington."

"If that is her real name," Sally said half to herself.

"What are you talking about, Doctor?"

"From the moment the resident called me about the fever up until about five minutes ago I tried to find out why she seems so familiar, as if I had seen her face thousands of times, and then I remembered the photo on Janet, on Doctor Fraiser's desk. She does not talk about the past and she made it more than clear that she would not answer any questions, but it has to be more than just a freaky coincidence."

Sally handed Olivia a silver framed 8x10 that showed Susan Carrington with relatively short blonde hair embracing a grinning woman Olivia recognised as Doctor Fraiser from behind.

"The blonde is Major Samantha Carter, the astronaut who died three years ago. I got Janet, Doctor Fraiser to admit that much, and I know that they had been lover's for years, despite 'don't-ask-don't-tell'. I brought the picture to compare it with our trouble patient," Sally said.

The small doctor's words echoed in Olivia's head, 'Sam, my Sammy', and suddenly it all made sense; her combat skills, the disregard for her own safety, the basic medical skills, the command presence, everything. Dozens of questions flashed through Olivia's mind but now and here, in a hospital corridor in the middle of the night was not the time and place to ask them, and Doctor Beaumont was not the woman who would be able to answer them anyway.

"There is a certain resemblance, I admit," Olivia answered cautiously, "but isn't it said that we all have our double, our twin somewhere out there in the world?"

"What did you see in there, Detetctive?" Sally asked, slightly alarmed at the evasive answer.

"Nothing."

"Please tell me. I promise I will not do or say anything to jeopardise your case. Janet is not only my boss. She is my friend, and though she has made a name for herself here and has made friends, she's not happy. She spends her free time volunteering at the children's yard or the woman's shelter but she does not date. We all have tried to set her up, during parties, on blind dates, on double dates but it never goes beyond a first meeting. As her friend it's my duty to protect her should the patient in that room threaten to open up old wounds."

Olivia studied the older woman's face, surprised that she had told her so much about the private life of the other doctor, but she also saw the genuine concern in Sally Beaumont's eyes. So, she said, "It might be too late for that, Doctor Beaumont. Some ghosts will always haunt you and some wounds never heal."

Before Sally had a chance to comment on Olivia's words the door opened and Doctor Janet Fraiser left the room. She seemed calm but after almost three years of working closely together, Sally could see that she was seething. So, she tried to hide the picture she had stolen from Janet's desk but her boss was too fast and snatched it from her.

Her voice was chilly when she said, "Please, put that back where it belongs. I want everyone who treated Miss Carrington when she was brought in in the break room in ten minutes. Call a team of nurses. The patient will be transferred to a private room. Are you Benson?"

"Detective Olivia Benson, Special Victims."

Doctor Fraiser visibly blanched at that but resolutely shock herself out of it.

"Explanations can wait, Detective. I want you to go to Miss Carrington's apartment. In the bedroom you'll find a manila folder, in the uppermost drawer of the nightstand. It contains all the medical information we'll need to adequately care for her. I need it ASAP."

Under normal circumstances Olivia would have objected at being ordered around by someone who definitively was not her captain, but since 9-1-1 had alerted them of the assault in progress nothing had been even remotely normal. So, she just nodded and took the wallet with the address and the apartment keys from the doctor. She passed the waiting room on her way out. There was no sign of Elliot but Michael Duncan was surrounded by quite a few people, all obviously waiting for news.

She checked her cell phone as soon as she had left the hospital and found a voice mail from Elliot telling her that Jonathan Duncan's surgery had been a success and that he was in the ICU for the night, at least. He told her that the hospital would call them as soon as he woke up and that he would file their preliminary report at the one-six. And in typical big-brother protectiveness he told her to go home as soon as she could and get some sleep.

-x-x-x-

Olivia used the sirens to get to Susan Carrington's apartment and back.

Doctor Fraiser was sitting in an armchair next to the bed, her right hand was firmly held by the either sleeping or unconscious woman while her left was gently stroking her cheek. When Olivia entered through the open door she heard her whisper, "If only you could be real, my Sammy."

Olivia cleared her throat and wordlessly handed over the file. The doctor took only a short look and asked, "Could you…?"

"Yes, I'll stay with her, Doctor Fraiser. It's no problem. How is she?"

"She's not yet back to normal but the fever has gone down considerably and continues to do so slowly. I'll be back as soon as I can. I have to compare this," she waved the folder around, "to the results of her blood tests. Keep an eye on her temperature and call for help should it rise even a tiny bit. She should be out for another hour at least."

"Sure, Doctor, take your time."

Olivia took Janet's place in the armchair and though she refrained from touching Susan Carrington's cheek she took her hand in her own. Now, under the cold hospital illumination and with her long dark hair still wet from the bathtub and slicked back the resemblance with the dead astronaut was more than just striking.

Olivia tried to recall what she knew about the shuttle accident three years ago that had cost Major Samantha Carter her life. She now wished she would have listened more closely to Munch's ramblings who for once had been full of awe about the actions of that woman. Olivia only remembered the basics about some essential part of the shielding of the shuttle failing and that Major Carter had stayed behind to keep the shuttle stable long enough for the rest of her team to reach the escape pod. She had willingly sacrificed her own life to save others. Someone who did this would also walk right in the middle of a fight to help those who could not help themselves.

She didn't know how much time had passed but suddenly Olivia felt the fingers in her hand moving and she squeezed back. Blue eyes fluttered open, a bright smile appeared on her face but then reality seemed to set in and a hoarse voice said, "I knew it could only have been a dream. Janet is dead."

The eyes closed again as if to will away the pain. When she finally opened them again there was a guarded expression on her face, "Detective Benson, what happened? I was only supposed to get some stitches."

"Hey, Wonder Woman, it's good to see you awake. You gave us quite the scare. You had an allergic reaction to either a sedative or a painkiller; they don't know which just yet. You still have bit of a fever but it's going down. Doctor Fraiser will soon be back to fill you in."

"Fraiser, Janet Fraiser, five feet one, brown hair, brown eyes?"

Olivia nodded.

"So, it was not a dream. She was really here, talking to me, holding my hand?"

Those eerily familiar eyes widened in wonder and hope.

"She called you 'Sam'," Olivia said.

Susan/Sam snapped into a sitting position as if propelled by a canon, panic written all over her face, "I have to go. I'm not the Sam she wants. I will not hurt her more than I already have."

She reached over to pull the IV access out of her arm but a sharp voice from the door ordered, "Stop it, Major Carter, now!"

The woman on the bed, Olivia was not sure if she still should call her Susan, froze in mid-movement and turned her head to look at the woman at the door. She was still wearing an evening dress under her open lab coat.

"I know that you're not the Samantha Carter I knew. I autopsied what was left of her body and ran the blood analysis myself. I know that the woman I loved is dead."

-x-x-x-

Olivia chose that moment to leave them alone. She was curious and Munch would probably never forgive her that she walked away from something that could be a bona-fide government conspiracy, but in her eyes they deserved some privacy. She went home, took a shower and tried to get some sleep, but her mind was running amuck with too many questions at once and no answers. For a moment she considered cleaning her apartment to pass the time until morning, but she had done that the night before last and not even her high standards would have found anything to clean after only two days most of which she had spent away from home. So, she decided on her usual plan B; jog to the one-six, work out in the basement gym and start her work day early.

-x-x-x-

"I know you are not the woman I loved," Janet said and stepped into the room, silently grateful that the detective had had the sensitivity or the decency to leave them alone.

"I know you are not her, but I also know that you're more than just a look-a-like. Putting the anomalies in your blood aside, you have the same blood type. You have a birthmark in the exact same shape and at the exact same place as she did. You even have some of her scars, or rather almost all of her scars can also be found on your body, especially the older ones. I want an explanation, and don't even think of telling me that it's classified."

Janet was standing at the side of the bed. Her speech had not stopped her from checking the temperature, mark the readings in Susan's chart and make sure that the IV drip providing her with fluids was still in working order. Sam knew that it was Janet's way to keep her confusion and anger and nervousness controlled but it also was a sign that Janet Fraiser in any time line first and foremost was a consummate, conscientious physician.

The thought brought a bright smile to Sam's face, a smile that left Janet standing with her mouth slightly agape in surprise.

"You have her smile," she finally said.

Sam didn't answer; she couldn't. The rational part of her mind was trying to tell her that that woman talking to her was not her beloved even though she looked like her and acted like her and even smelled like her. The rational part of her mind tried to tell her that her Janet was dead, killed by a staff blast to her lower back on P3X-666. The rational part of her mind tried to tell her that the only logical and sensible thing to do right now would be to leave the hospital immediately, to start running and never look back.

But Sam didn't listen to the rational part of her mind. It had no chance against the onslaught of emotions competing to be expressed. And the first one that burst forth was, "You're so beautiful, my Jan, the most beautiful woman in the universe."

"Don't call me that. You are not her. She is dead," Janet shouted and darted for the door.

"And so are you in my world."

Sam's softly spoken words made her stop and turn around.

Janet asked, "How?"

"You were shot in the field, enemy fire, while saving an airman. You died before we had reached the base and nothing I tried could bring you back," Sam answered tonelessly.

Janet recognised it as the inflection her beloved had used when talking about the death of her mother, and she knew that the other woman was telling the truth. However, she had to make sure.

"That small scar on your left knee, from where did you get it?"

"I built a parachute and jumped off the roof of our house. Uncle George caught me at the last moment but he lost his balance and my knee hit a pointed rock in the driveway. I was five."

"Were you punished?" Janet asked.

"Uncle George didn't say anything. He later told me that he had been too impressed by the guts of a child to climb up to the roof and on top of it build a parachute model that would have worked with the right materials. My Mum was less impressed. She read me the riot act and took away my math books for two weeks."

"She made you read 'Little Women'."

"Among others, but when the two weeks were over she helped me to build a 'chute that actually worked."

"You have her memories, and yet it can't be. I saw what was left of the shuttle craft and of her body. I saw it crashing to the ground. I heard the conversation with flight control. I heard her die. It simply can't be," Janet said and moved slowly back to the bed.

Sam stretched out her hand, if to reassure Janet or herself she didn't know but she was extremely relieved when Janet took it.

"I'm not your Sam, Janet. That Samantha Carter died in the shuttle accident, but I won't even try to lie to you and tell you that I'm not Samantha Carter. I am Sam Carter. In my world I was a lieutenant colonel. There was an accident and suddenly I found myself in a different reality, a reality in which I was dead and you are alive."

"So, there is a difference between you and my Sam. She would have given me a detailed technical explanation," Janet said with a pained smile.

"I'd love to, but it would take too long, Janet. I don't know how long I'll be able to stay awake. That sedative or whatever they gave me earlier is still working its way out of my system. I can feel it. Why didn't they just ask before they shot me up with the stuff?"

"Because they're ignorant residents who think they know it all. I already ripped them a new one for endangering a patient and disregarding hospital procedure. They endangered your life, and I will support you in any law suit you might want to file against the residents responsible and the hospital," Janet said seriously.

"A law suit? No. I see no need for that. I can't afford to make more waves than the fallout from this night's incident already will create."

"Sally, one of the other doctors, filled me in. She said that you fought four men hand-to-hand – and won. You can't help being a hero, can you?"

"I'm not her, and I didn't win. I was stabbed, or rather I stumbled backwards into a knife. I don't call that winning, but I don't mind. I got to see you, that's reward enough to me. In fact, seeing you again, alive and well and as beautiful as ever, even if only for tonight, it was worth losing everything else."

The last words had been softly mumbled when Sam lost her battle against the drugs making her sleepy and so she missed Janet's reply, "If I have anything to say about it tonight will only be the first time. Now that I have found you I will not let you go again without one hell of a fight, Samantha Carter."

-x-x-x-

Olivia made a first batch of coffee and read through the notes of the other detectives on last night's case. What Munch had found out about their perps let the case suddenly take a much more difficult turn. The four men were not your run of the mill homophobes; they were Upper East Side kids and Olivia already saw the line of expensive defence lawyers waiting to punch holes in their waterproof case. To make things worse two of their perps were the nephews of former Judge Oliver Taft, the one that had been forced to resign at the instigation of their recently disbarred ADA Casey Novak.

Defence would check into the backgrounds of everyone else involved in the case, from the victims to the responding officers, and to make the case stick they had to be one step ahead of the defence teams. So, Olivia started to run in-depth checks on Michael and Jonny Duncan and on Susan Carrington using one of the specialised search routines she had learned to establish while working for cyber crimes a couple of years ago.

While the computer was doing its work Olivia wrote her own report on yesterday's events, from the 9-1-1 call dispatch had sent their way to Susan Carrington's allergic reaction to sedatives. When she was done she had guzzled down the first pot of coffee and the results of her search had come back.

Jonny and his younger brother Michael came up squeaky clean. What she found out about Susan Carrington, however, those results would let the defence have a field day. It had raised a red flag with her, it would do more so with a crew of overpaid defence leeches.

Susan's social security number, her passport, her driver's licence, and the lease to her apartment; they all had been issued on the same day. Olivia didn't have much of respect for the Feds or the Witness Protection Program but even they would not have made such a crucial mistake. In her eyes it was tantamount to blunder.

Before Olivia had a chance to initiate another search for the people responsible for inputting the data about Susan Carrington Captain Cragen arrived. They talked about the case and he promised to make sure that the DNA tests would be expedited, though she didn't tell him about the inconsistencies with Susan's data.

For the next couple of hours Olivia busied herself with doing her paperwork on other cases without ever having the chance to pursue her inquiry on who might have posted Susan's ID data. When she finally was through the squad room around her was bustling and Elliot told her that it was time to interview their perps since their lawyers were already pushing for a quick arraignment.

So, they had agreed to question their perps in the prison ward of Bellevue Hospital and had recruited a court writer and two uniforms to film the interrogation. To no one's surprise they did not get more than 'my client reserves his right to remain silent' from the future defendants' lawyers.

And as long as the DNA results had not come in there was not even a shred of evidence corroborating their theory that the gay bashers also were their rapists and murderers. On the way out of Bellevue they got word that Jonathan Duncan had woken up and could be questioned, so they all went to Mercy Hospital.

Jonny and Michael both gave detailed statements and both were full of awe for Susan's actions. Jonny even filled them in on how he had met Susan and that she was every lesbians wet dream in the neighbourhood but had always even refused to consider dating.

"If you ask me, and I'm never wrong in matters of the heart, someone broke her heart, someone she still loves." Jonny said after the officers with the camera equipment had packed and gone. "Is she alright? Nobody here tells me anything. I'm surprised that she has not looked in yet."

"One of your attackers injured her with a knife. She needed stitches. They gave her some sedative that didn't agree with her. She had an allergic reaction. When I left last night she was conscious but she could have fallen back asleep. I'll check on her before we leave and let you know, Mr. Duncan."

"Thank you, Detective."

Elliot and Olivia left Jonny in the care of his younger brother. "El, why don't you go on ahead and file those statements while I find out when they will be well enough for a line-up. I know they picked them out of our photo line-up, but the defence attorneys won't be content with that. I'll also check on Susan Carrington and try to get her to come in for her statement. With a bit of luck we can do the line-up with her."

Elliot cast her a long thoughtful look and then just nodded, "Cragen put a rush on the DNA. He expects it back at around five and wants us to brief whomever Hogan Place will send to prosecute the case, probably some wet-behind-the-ears know-it-all. Let me tell you. If someone would have told me five years ago that one day I would miss Casey Novak I would have put them in the psych ward of Bellevue and have thrown away the paperwork."

Olivia chose not to comment on his whining, "I'll be there in time, El, don't worry."

Olivia soon found a nurse who in turn led her to Jonny Duncan's doctor. He made it clear that the hairdresser had suffered from a collapsed lung due to blunt force trauma to the chest. He said that if not for the oxygen and the timely, professional first aid he probably would have suffocated on his own blood before the bus had arrived. Jonny still had a drainage pipe in his chest and would not be allowed to leave for at least four or five days to make sure that there would be no relapse or any danger of infection.

She returned to the room in which she had last seen the mysterious Susan Carrington and her doctor. The room was empty, of course. She went down to the nurse station of the emergency room to find out if Susan Carrington had been released. One of the nurses remembered having seen her leave the hospital with Doctor Fraiser.

-x-x-x-

Olivia decided to pay a visit to Susan's apartment. She was not surprised to see the doctor on the couch in Susan's living room.

"Detective Benson, how can I help you?"

"Olivia, please. Sometime later today could you come to the 16th precinct to give your statement and identify the attackers in a line-up."

"We can go now if you want to, Olivia." Sam/Susan saw Olivia's hesitation and added, "Unless there is something else you want to speak about first. You can speak openly in front of Doctor Fraiser."

"We run routine checks on the background of everyone involved in a case from victims to eye witnesses. We want the prosecutor to avoid unpleasant surprises. When I checked on you I found that your social security number, your passport and driver's licence as well as the lease to your apartment have the same date on it. The defence lawyers of the four scumbags you took down will take that as a big neon sign that you have something to hide and will use it to undermine your credibility," Olivia explained.

"I see. It could jeopardise your case."

"It also could put you in danger if you are who I think you are." Sam opened her mouth to answer but Olivia was faster, "No, I don't need to know, but if you have any way to fix that you should do it before coming to the precinct, Susan."

"Why are you doing this, Detective Benson? After all Susan could have something nefarious to hide. She could be a criminal," Doctor Fraiser said.

"Criminals as a rule are not wont to help someone being beaten up and even if they should accidentally get involved they would have run at the first opportunity. No, Doctor, Wonder Woman is not a criminal, but whoever set up her identity was an irresponsible amateur."

"Thank you, Olivia, for trusting me. I'll clear this mess up and as soon as it is done, I'll come to give my statement and a positive identification. I guess it will take about two hours, maybe three. And Olivia, I'm not a criminal. I'm a former Air Force Officer, but not the one who you think I am," Sam answered, "and I'm not some sort of super hero. Everyone with some knowledge of hand-to-hand combat would have done the same."

"It's commendable that you think that, Susan, but experience taught me that ninety-nine out of a hundred people in this city would not have interfered the way you did, and of those ninety-nine only about twenty would have called the police.

"Do you think you could be at the one-six around six?" Olivia asked.

"Yes, I should be done by then. Thank you for trusting me, Olivia, and for telling me about the problem with my papers."

"You're welcome, Susan."

-x-x-x-

It was two minutes to five when Olivia heard the staccato sound of a pair of high-heels coming along the corridor, beating an eerily familiar rhythm on the hard floor. She looked up, turned around and saw the blue eyes of Alexandra Cabot. She forced herself not to gape open-mouthed and stood up slowly.

"Miss Cabot, how can the Special Victims Unit help you?"

Olivia tried to keep her voice calm and measured but she felt her heart beating in her throat in a rhythm much faster than Alex' heels.

The last time she had seen Alex had been at the end of the Connor trial, almost four years ago. She always would remember their last night together. It had been sweet and it had been bitter and it had been painful, because they had known that it in all probability would be the last time. They had not made any promises to each other, not verbally.

Olivia forced herself back to the present. She was acutely aware of the other detectives keeping an eye on them and she felt the eyes of the other people in the squad room, possibly waiting to witness a scene. Alex seemed to take her time to answer but when she did it was as coldly efficient as she had sounded the very first time she had walked into this room.

"Jack McCoy asked me to take over the prosecution in the Taft, Henning and Marcus case."

Alex' expression mirrored her voice and somehow that made Olivia angry. And her anger crept into her own voice, "Isn't that beneath the scope of a bureau chief, Miss Cabot?"

"The DA wanted someone with experience in Special Victims cases, Detective Benson."

Despite herself Olivia flinched at hearing her name and title said with such coldness and Alex saw it.

"Listen, Olivia, I know that I screwed up when I was released from witness protection last year. I know we can't just continue from where we left off. The messages I got on my answering machine made that abundantly clear. I know we no longer are friends but can't we at least try to work together. I will talk to Jack and tell him to choose someone else if you or the other detectives think that we can not work together efficiently, but I want to see those scumbags behind bars, if possible for life. So, for the sake of the case could we put our past aside, Olivia?"

Before Olivia had a chance to answer Captain Cragen's voice came from the direction of his office, "Alex, welcome home. I'm glad that Jack could convince you to come back to us."

"Just for this one case, Don. So, what have we got?"

-x-x-x-

As soon as Olivia had left Sam knelt in front of Janet. "The Air Force will probably insist on relocating me. Until yesterday I would not have fought them. Do I have a reason to fight now?"

"I just found you, Sam. If the Air Force relocates you, I will follow you. Yes, you have something to fight for, Sammy. I know you are not the woman I loved, and I know I am not the woman you loved but when I look at you, when I touch you there's something that calls to me, something beyond the familiarity. And if you feel the same way then please fight them."

Sam took Janet's hands and kissed her knuckles. She rose, pulled her cell phone out of the back pocket of her jeans and called a very long number, "This is Lieutenant Colonel Carter, General Landry. We have a code red. Call back within the hour or you will lose one of three aces up your sleeve."

Less than twenty minutes later the cell phone rang, "What is this about a code red, Carter?"

Sam laid out the problem with her papers and explained the situation. She also told him that she would not cooperate should they try to relocate her and give her a new identity.

"And pray tell, what do you intend to do should we insist?" General Landry asked sarcastically.

"Easy. Remove the tracker you put in my arm and the one you didn't tell me about lodged in my left thigh and disappear from your radar. I am no longer bound by Air Force regulations and you have broken your word often enough for me to no longer care. But that's not what we both want, and it's not what has to happen."

It took an hour of arguing back and forth, but in the end General Landry gave in. When Sam called the one-six to confirm the time her records had been amended and they had cooked up a respectable service record for Susan Samantha Carrington, a former Air Force Major.

Sam picked the four perps out of three different line-ups without any hesitation, a precaution Robert Langon, their defence attorney had insisted on in the hope to invalidate her identification. She then gave a concise, detailed statement, including the minutiae of the fight.

Alex stood in the observation booth with Don and Elliot. She didn't say anything but before that whole mess with Velez Elliot had learned to read the ADA's body language. There was a lot of tension, nervous tension but he also saw the intensity that had made her the best prosecutor ever working with his squad.

While Olivia escorted Susan Carrington out Alex made Elliot check her out. Instead of the red flag Susan's data would have raised earlier that day, she now had a squeaky clean record. Susan Samantha Carrington had a master's degree in engineering. She had joined the Air Force Academy, had been trained as fighter pilot and served with distinction for more than fifteen years when an accident brought her a medical discharge. After almost eighteen months of rehab she had been released into civil life and chose a new start in New York City. The list of her commendations and awards was impressive.

To Alex it sounded too good to be true; so, she told Elliot to order a more in-depth inquiry. Two days later the results came back, and they painted her as even more of a hero. Together with the positive DNA results it looked like a slam-dunk case, even with someone like Langon for the defence. Still, Alex had learned the hard way not to count her pennies before the end of the play.

-x-x-x-

Another couple of days later Olivia decided to check on Jonathan Duncan and passed by the hospital during her luch break. She already had two new cases on her desk and with the trial preparations on the way it officially was no longer her business; still she followed her instincts.

The door to Duncan's room was wide open and she heard his voice, "I don't see why not, Susan. It's not as if you would make profit from it, just a few classes to teach the basics of self-defence. Rory already volunteered the use of the Aerobics room at his gym. All you have to do is say yes."

Olivia knew that she should either make her presence known or leave instead of eavesdropping but she did neither. She wanted to hear Susan's answer.

"It's not as easy as that, Figaro. In hand-to-hand combat knowing a little could be more dangerous than knowing nothing at all. And I'm not qualified to teach. I don't have a permit."

"Excuses, nothing but excuses, my dear. Do you remember Marilyn, the redhead who follows you around with those puppy dog eyes?"

"I remember her, but what does she have to do with your brain-haired idea?"

"Mary is a lawyer and she said that as long as you don't take money and the participants sign a waiver absolving you of all responsibility should there be an accident or something you don't need a permit or licence and legally would be on the safe side."

Olivia didn't dare to look into the room but when Jonny continued to speak she surmised that he had not liked the expression on Susan's face.

"Listen, Susan, this is not only about what happened to me. Those four were a real piece of work and from what I heard you saved my life and Michael's, but it wasn't the first time that I got jumped. It comes with the territory. Michael, however, he does not even play for our team, and he's completely spooked by what happened. Learning how to defend himself would give him back the confidence he lost, and there are a lot of other people in our neighbourhood who also could need a boost. Think about it, Susan. The least it would do is to teach the participants to be more aware of their surroundings. You could teach them not only to defend themselves but also to avoid trouble in the first place."

"Alright, Jonny. I'll think about it, but I don't make any promises. I have to go now. I told Luke that I would mind the shop while he's meeting with a few old buddies about some rare parts. Listen to your doctors, Figaro, and no flirting with the male nurses."

"Why not? You're flirting with the ER chief. Scuttlebutt says that it's more than flirting, much more."

For a moment there was silence and then she heard Jonny Duncan's amused laughter, "What a lovely blush! The unflappable Susan Carrington, immune to flirting and compliments, blushing. You got it bad, my dear. Not that I fault you. From what I've seen of her Janet is a lovely woman."

"You don't know the half of it, Figaro."

Suddenly Olivia got the feeling that she was listening in on an intensely private conversation. So, she turned around and went back the way she came, but she didn't get far. Susan's voice called her,

"Olivia, what are you doing here? Do you need to speak with Jonny?"

"I wanted to tell him that they set a trial date, but then I heard you talking and decided not to interfere."

"I already told him. So, how much did you hear?"

"Too much I'm afraid. I'm sorry that I didn't respect your privacy, Susan."

"No damage done, Olivia, but you can make it up to me. I read up on you after you helped me out by warning me about the snafu with my papers. There was a note that you taught a self-defence class at a women's crisis centre not too long ago. I could use some help organising those classes Jonny wants me to hold."

"So, you're going to do it?"

"I'm giving it serious thought, but I also have some doubts. I gave a few lectures at the Air Force Academy but that's different from what Jonny wants me to do," Sam/Susan said.

"If you have doubts, why even consider it?" Olivia asked.

"It's hard to say 'no' to Jonny, and I owe him. I didn't know a single soul in this city and Jonny made me feel welcome. He introduced me to his friends, helped me to find a job that gets me away from my computer and out of the house. He made me appreciate the gay and lesbian community here, something I never allowed myself to live while I was still with the Air Force."

Olivia studied Sam's face and was impressed by the openness and honesty she read there, "Are you free for breakfast tomorrow morning? There's a diner about a block from the precinct. We could meet there and talk about it. Would seven be too early?"

"Works fine with me, Olivia. Thank you."

-x-x-x-

Despite Trevor Langon's best efforts the jury found all four defendants guilty of two counts of murder, four counts of rape and six counts of aggravated assault after only an hour and a half of deliberations. Janet had insisted on being at Sam and Jonny's side for the reading of the verdict.

Jonny and Janet had hit it off from the start when he still had been confined to his hospital bed, and they were both working on Sam to get her to change the colour of her hair back to blond.

Olivia and the other detectives had also made a point of being present.

After Judge Petrovsky had left the courtroom Olivia stepped up to the prosecution table where Alex was busy putting away her papers.

"Alex."

The blonde looked up. She kept her expression neutral, not sure what to expect from her former lover.

"Congratulations Counsellor. That was good work. Your closing was a work of art. I… I missed your fire. It's good to have you back."

"Thank you, Olivia."

Olivia looked into the deep blue eyes of the taller woman for what seemed like hours but in reality were only a few seconds, and Alex seemed equally as captivated by Olivia's brown orbs. The spell was broken when one of the junior ADAs from her office handed Alex a folded piece of paper. She distractedly read it and excused herself.

"Jack wants to see me, immediately. I enjoyed working with the one-six again."

"So did we, Counsellor."

Alex hurried off and Olivia joined the others at the entrance of the courtroom.

"Liv, help us out here. We try to convince Miss Carrington and her friend to join us for a celebratory drink tonight but so far they both resist my charms," John Munch said teasingly.

"I'm sorry, guys, but you're out of luck. Susan and I have a prior engagement."

"Do you keep secrets from us, girl?" Fin asked.

"Well, a girl has a right to a private life. Don't the three of you always tell me to get out more often?"

"Spill it, Liv," Elliot said.

"It's really nothing mysterious, Detective Stabler," Sam said. "Olivia was kind enough to help me set up a self defence class for a few people in my neighbourhood and she has also consented to help me teach the course. Tonight is our first class."

Olivia took some good-natured ribbing from her friends and colleagues about not having told them about the project but after almost drowning in Alex' blue orbs earlier she took it with a smile.

-x-x-x-

Janet had originally planned on taking part in the self-defence course to refresh what she once had learned in boot camp. Unfortunately she had been called in because of a multi-car pile up. So, after class only Olivia and Sam were left, and both were not looking forward to return to their respective empty apartment. They decided to go for a drink and a snack.

Sam led them to a small bar close to the gym where she, that is 'Susan' was greeted by name. They ordered a pitcher of beer and, quite unusual for a bar, two chef salads that turned out to be really good.

"So, you and Doctor Fraiser? You make quite the couple," Olivia asked between bites.

Sam blushed, a deep blush that looked even more pronounced due to her dark hair, "I never thought that I would get another chance at love after I lost the first woman I ever really loved more than four years ago."

"What happened?"

"Enemy fire. She was killed in the field."

"I'm sorry, Susan," Olivia said softly.

"Thank you, but it's in the past, and for the first time in more than four years I feel like I'm living again. But let's speak about something else. Let's talk about Bureau Chief Alexandra Cabot. I saw how you looked at each other after the verdict came in."

Olivia's natural defence mechanism told her to answer that her relationship with Alex was none of the other woman's business but something held her back. It might have been the honesty and lingering raw pain she had seen in Susan's eyes.

"I don't know much about Bureau Chief Cabot but when she still was the ADA assigned to the SVU… well, that's another story."

Now, it was Sam's turn to ask what had happened, "There was so much longing in both of your eyes."

"She had to spend more than six years in the witness protection program after a drug dealer had put out a hit on her. When she returned she no longer wanted to have anything to do with her old friends, her former life. She took the Bureau Chief position, got engaged to a politically correct man and is now on the fast track to the big chair at the DA's office. The woman I loved no longer exists. She died in witness protection."

Sam didn't answer immediately, but she also didn't seek eye contact with the detective when she finally did, "Do you still love Alex Cabot?"

Olivia raised her glass to her lips but didn't drink. She put it back down on the table. Once again she was tempted not to answer, at least not honestly, but there was something about Susan Samantha Carrington, and it were not her eerily familiar blue eyes, that inspired trust.

"When she returned from witness protection I tried to hate her, there are moments when I still do. She just gave up on everything we once had and turned her back to me and the rest of her past."

"Did you know that she gave back the engagement ring the week after the engagement party, Olivia? It was all over the social section of the papers."

"She did? Why? He was the ideal choice, a good family, old money, social and political influence; someone who could give her children, an heir to the Cabot fortune and family line. Why would she do something like that?"

"That's a question only she can answer, Olivia, and you'll never know unless you'll ask her."

Sam fell silent as if weighing her options. Finally she pushed the rest of her salad away, looked up and made eye contact with Olivia.

"Let me tell you a story, Olivia, a fairy tale of sorts. There once was a young Air Force officer. She had been assigned to a base where she could live her wildest dreams, combat and scientific research. A couple of months later another female officer joined the base and they fell in love. At first regulations kept them apart but their feelings for each other were too strong to be denied.

"For almost seven years their love grew stronger every day, but one day, on a mission, there was an ambush and the second woman was killed. The first woman thought that her life too had ended with the last breath of her beloved but despite her broken heart she kept breathing. Only her work gave her solace and for years she did nothing but work.

"One day there was an accident and the officer in question woke up to a new world, a world at the time very familiar and as different from her own as can be imagined. She thought that for a second time she had lost everything because in this world she didn't even have the work she loved. But then unexpectedly a woman entered her life. That woman had many similarities with the one she had lost and yet she was completely different.

"That other woman was not the one she had lost, she was different, but never since the death of her first love her heart had been beating this fast and her soul had felt this free. Before she had been empty inside but in this new world she had a new chance at fulfilment."

Sam fell silent, fearing that she had told too much and at the same time not enough. Olivia signalled a waiter and ordered a scotch, neat. She turned the glass in her fingers without attempting to drink it.

"In this fairy tale of yours, did they live happily ever after?"

"I don't know yet, Olivia, but I certainly hope so."

"And do you think that people can find their way back to each other even after time has changed them?" Olivia asked.

"I do not know, Olivia, but I do know that as long as there is life and love there is also a chance. It is for you to decide if you deem it worth the risk," Sam answered softly.

Silence fell between them, a comfortable silence, and they let it linger.

"Call me 'Liv', Susan, all my friends do."

"Sam, it's only my second name but I prefer it to Susan."

Olivia downed her scotch and threw a couple of bills on the table, "You have given me a lot to think about, Sam. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Liv."

-x-x-x-

There was a slim line of light coming from under the door to her apartment. Sam cautiously opened it and found Janet curled up on the couch, safely asleep. She knelt next to her and kissed her temple. Janet opened her eyes and smiled sleepily up to her new and old lover.

"Hello, my love," Sam said.

"Hello, Sammy. Take me to bed?"

"It will be my pleasure, Doctor Fraiser. I'm glad that you're here, but I didn't expect word from you until much later."

"It turned out that they didn't need me after all. Most of the patients were redirected to another hospital when it became clear that the road on our side was blocked by an upended truck. Did you miss me?" Janet asked.

"I always miss you when we're not together. You said something about bed?"

"I guess I did," Janet answered with a bright smile.

Sam smiled back and kissed her forehead. She put one arm under Janet's knees and the other behind her back, then carried her to the bedroom as if she would not weigh more than a doll. She sat her back on her feet close to the bed and began to slowly undress her.

Sam scooped Janet up again and gently placed her in the middle of her king-size bed that had taken the place of her smaller bed in the third week she had known Janet. She quickly undressed herself and joined Janet on the bed. She stretched out and pulled her on top of her prone body, revelling in the texture of Janet's skin, her weight anchoring her to the here and now. She led her hands wander up and down Janet's body, slowly, intently, teasingly, and Janet responded with a breathtaking, all engulfing kiss.

From the first moment on it had been as if their bodies had been made for each other, but not because once upon a time they both had known a body very similar to the one they were caressing now. The Janet of this timeline reacted differently to the one Sam had loved, and the Sam she was kissing at the moment was so much more firm and gently giving than the one from Janet's past. From their first kiss in that too bright hospital room on it had been different and yet it had felt so right that neither woman felt the need to question it. It simply was.

They broke the kiss and Sam bent her head to first lick and then suckle the pulse point at Janet's throat, a spot that would have sent the Janet of Sam's old timeline into gales of helpless laughter. Sam had yet to find all of the ticklish spots of this Janet but her throat was not one of them.

Janet moaned as if to invite her to suck more firmly but Sam returned to simple licking. She didn't want to leave a mark, at least not at a point where everyone would be able to see it and tease her. Later there would be time to leave a mark on her chest or abdomen or at the inside of her thighs, just like Janet would probably mark her somewhere on her body.

Janet shifted slightly and suddenly Sam felt her breath close to her ear, "You are so beautiful, my Sam. You worked hard with your new students. I can feel the tension in your body and I will make you relax. But to do that I will have to be calm and relaxed myself. Do you have any idea how to get there?"

Instead of answering verbally Sam rolled them over which brought them close to the edge of the bed but not dangerously so. She once again licked Janet's jugular and then began to kiss her way down to the valley between her breasts. Two of her fingers entered Janet's slick folds. Her inner muscles were already at work squeezing Sam's fingers and sucking them deeper inside.

Sam began to kiss her way up to Janet's left nipple with meticulously placed kisses that seemed to advance not more than half a millimetre at a time. Janet instinctively arched her back for more contact, and Sam rewarded her by licking around the aureole. Janet's already hard nipple straightened up even more. She moaned when Sam's lips closed around the hard nub.

Sam's teeth scraped over the taut flesh and elicited a needy groan which in turn brought goosebumps to Sam's skin. Janet chuckled at the feeling under her roaming hands but the sound was quickly replaced by another groan and an accelerated breathing rhythm when Sam started to pump her fingers in and almost out of Janet's centre. Sam waited until Janet's breathing rhythm had calmed down enough to match her thrusting fingers before she put her thumb on Janet's clit.

"Sam, please, please make me come. I need you so much. Push me over the edge."

The pleading was an order to Sam, especially since she knew that before long she would be the one begging for release. She sped up the thrusting and gently bit down on Janet's nipple. Her thumb flicked Janet's clit and Janet bucked her hips, almost dislodging Sam with the unexpected force of her movements. Her release was hard and fast and strong but by no means short. Sam let her ride out her orgasm and helped her to calm down by gentling her ministrations.

She rolled back on her back and pulled Janet with her, cradling her in her arms like the most precious thing on Earth and beyond. Sometimes after such a climax Janet fell asleep; this time she intended to make good on her earlier promise. So, she put a bit of distance between them and asked her to turn around.

Janet loved to see Sam squirm and used everything she knew about anatomy to not only massage away the knots in Sam's back but also to push her arousal up another few notches. Sam's soft moans grew louder until they reached a low pitched continuous note.

Her hands had reached Sam's firm nether globes. Janet nudged her legs further apart and entered Sam's vagina from behind with three fingers she had unnecessarily lubricated with her saliva. Sam's moans changed into a groan, needy and demanding as well as pleading.

A couple of minutes later Janet stopped her slow thrusts and bent forward, "Tell me what you want, my Sam."

Sam's inner muscles clenched at the demand. She tried to swallow but the moisture of her whole body seemed to have pooled between her legs.

"Fuck me," she finally said, "fuck me hard, please."

"Tell me exactly what you want, Sam. Do you want another finger? Do you want me to use a toy? Do you want me to squeeze your clit?"

Every whispered suggestion shot right to Sam's centre.

Janet always had been the only lover capable of bringing her to the brink of forgetting her name and that had not changed with the timeline.

Sam whimpered, unable to express her needs in words. Luckily she didn't need to because Janet knew what she wanted and needed. She slowly curled and uncurled the three fingers inside of her lover in counterpoint to Sam's frantic heartbeat. Her thumb stroked Sam's perineum while her other hand was gently caressing Sam's neck.

"Tell me, my Sam," she demanded.

Sam's throat was still as dry as the desert but the hand in her neck grounded her and seemed to give her the strength to answer, "I want you, Jan, only you. Fuck me, take me, make me yours."

Janet didn't need any further invitation. She lubricated her thumb with Sam's juices and penetrated her sphincter while adding a forth finger to her centre. Sam bucked like a wild stallion who felt a saddle for the first time, but Janet's hands stayed steady and anchored her to the bed.

Seconds later and just in the nick of time she heard Janet's request, "Come for me, my Sammy. Come for me."

Her orgasm was intense; the world around her blinked out of focus for a moment but she didn't pass out. Janet first removed her thumb and then one after the other her fingers. She didn't want Sam to feel the loss too keenly but Sam still groaned in disappointment.

Janet cleaned her thumb with one of the wet wipes on the nightstand and her fingers with her tongue, savouring Sam's specific taste.

Sam had turned to the side and watched her lover with a dreamy expression. When Janet felt eyes on her she looked up. Her gaze found Sam's. For a while with Janet sucking her index finger they just stared at each other.

"You are perfection, Janet Fraiser, pure and simple perfection. Being with you is better than blowing up a sun. I'm so blessed that I found you."

"Before you came into my life I was dead inside, my Sammy. You have brought life back into my existence. You are perfection."

Sam had tears clinging in the corner of her eyes and she stretched out her arms as best as she could and Janet sank into her embrace. They kissed again, a gentle, reassuring kiss. Sam extinguished the light and they both said softly, "I love you."

-x-x-x-

At the beginning of the following week Alex once again swept into the squad room as if she owned it and its occupants, just as she had in the beginning. Elliot and Olivia were about to interview a suspect but there was no need for the ADA to be present at this time. Olivia still found herself strangely relieved and comforted to see her striding into the room, and her heart skipped a beat when Alex casually leaned against her desk as if she had not been absent for years.

Later that day, the sun had already set, Olivia made her way to 1, Hogan Place. Their suspect had confessed in a second round of questioning after having waived his Miranda rights. He had been sent to central booking and his arraignment was scheduled for the next morning. So, she would not even be able to come up with a professional excuse for her presence at the DA's office at this hour.

She found the office of Bureau Chief Cabot without a problem and was not surprised that Alex' office was the only one still occupied. Olivia knocked but Alex didn't look up. She knocked again and stepped inside. At closer inspection Olivia saw the wire of an ear piece dangling from her ear which of course explained her lack of reaction.

Olivia took a seat on the leather couch at the other side of the office and waited. She recognised the couch as the one that once had stood in Alex' old office; the couch on which they had had countless kissing and groping session, and sometimes, late at night, quite a bit more. Alex looked up and removed her headphones before Olivia could ask herself how it could possibly have found its way into his office.

She smiled at the blonde and said, "Good evening, Counsellor."

Alex smiled back and when she said, "Good evening, Detective," her voice sounded warm and welcoming. "What can I do for the one-six at this hour?"

"Nothing that I know of, but there is something you could do for me. Come to dinner with me, Alex, please."

"What would we talk about, Olivia?"

"We'll find something and if dinner goes well we can consider to really talk, about everything."

"I think I would like that, Olivia."

"So would I, Alex."

The END