Chapter 1.
"Alright everyone, we have good news. Our dating-site perp has taken the bait and messaged Detective Benson's profile."
Olivia glanced briefly at Elliot before looking at Captain Cragen. "That's great. Why don't you sound more pleased?"
Their captain shifted uncomfortably in the way he had when he was about to deliver bad news. "He's smart. He won't agree to an actual meeting until we've—you've—jumped through some of his hoops."
Oh, she didn't like the way that sounded. It seemed like every time they closed in on this guy, he managed to slip another two steps away.
"Hoops?" Elliot asked, crossing his arms and assuming what Olivia privately referred to as the "hell no" stance.
Captain Cragen looked apologetically at Olivia. "He's insisting on a video chat before he'll meet up with you. Claims he's been lied to in the past and wants to make sure you're the same person in the profile picture."
Olivia could tell from the angry huff to her right that Elliot was about to argue with the captain, so she jumped in. "Well, that's fine then, right? I'll just talk to him and..." Looking at Elliot, she saw that his jaw was clenched and the tick in his neck was showing. He was not happy.
"He wants to have a video sex chat with you, Liv," her partner ground out.
Shocked, Olivia turned back to Captain Cragen. His expression was all the confirmation she needed. "But that's impossible. I'm a cop, not some—some internet porn star."
Cragen shrugged helplessly. "I'm afraid we're going to have to fake it for the time being. CSU's setting up a room for you to use downstairs. All you need to do is talk to this guy long enough to convince him you're not a cop. And—" here Olivia started to interject, but Cragen held up a hand. "You don't have to be a porn star. Your dating profile says you're a single business executive, and our experts have been chatting with this guy online for the past few hours, pretending to be you. All you have to do is get on the camera, do enough to convince this guy that you're legit, and we'll finally be able to nab him."
"Captain, there must be another way," Elliot blurted out.
"No, it has to be me," Olivia sighed. "It's my picture. And I'll be the one he's going to meet, anyway, right?" Cragen nodded once and Olivia sighed again. "Fine. Brief me on the way downstairs."
Olivia pulled nervously on the tie of her robe, reluctant to look in the mirror. One of their seasoned internet decoys had brought her up to speed on "her" conversations with their suspect thus far, and they'd been more risqué than Olivia had imagined. Apparently they all expected him to push for even more during this video chat, hence why Olivia was practically naked under the silky lavender robe. Show him just enough to convince him had been the captain's awkward instructions.
Taking several deep breaths and tossing her hair back, Olivia finally stepped in front of the mirror in the changing room they'd arranged for her. The robe stopped mid-thigh and while it wasn't particularly low-cut, it also wasn't much in the way of concealment. It was a good thing this was being recorded on video because she didn't think they'd even be able to hide a wire under the fluid silk. It's not like you haven't dressed the part before, the logical part of her brain reminded her. You haven't had to cybersex with a perp before though, either, the panicked part pointed out.
Propelling herself towards the door before she could lose her nerve, Olivia stepped into the makeshift "bedroom" and only caught sight of a dozen people before the light from all the lamps blinded her.
"Is all this necessary?" she asked, shielding her eyes and stepping around the equipment. Her new view wasn't much better, though—it seemed like half the precinct was in the dingy basement office, staring at more of her skin than she preferred to be exposed at work. All the eyes only added to her discomfort.
"We'll dim the lights before you get settled—right now we're just checking the lighting and how it will show up on screen. We don't want this guy to realize this isn't actually a bedroom." One of the tech crew gave her a quick, reassuring smile before returning his gaze to the tiny camera screen. "You'll sit on the edge of the bed and we'll have him up on this laptop." He pointed to the machine that was currently being wired up by another two people. "Everyone else will be back here, and you won't even see us."
"Everyone else?" Olivia felt her gut squeeze in nervousness. She'd certainly never engaged in an online affair and she hardly wanted her first time to be in front of a gaggle of coworkers.
"Sure. Me, two camera guys, one transcriber—what?"
Elliot had stepped forward and put a hand on the tech guy's shoulder. "Surely no one else has to witness this?" he asked quietly but firmly.
"But—"
"It's all on camera, right? You can monitor everything from next door. It's going to be hard enough staring this guy in the face and pretending to be genuine without having to worry about half the CSU department staring you down while you do it." Elliot glanced at Olivia before returning a commanding gaze to the tech guy.
"Uh, well, yeah, I guess we can do that. Sorry, Olivia, I didn't think about it that way." With a shrug, he turned and started barking orders at everyone else, and soon equipment was being moved out of the small office and into another one next door. As the flurry of activity ceased, Olivia saw all that remained was the laptop, one camera on a tripod, and large mikes on either side.
"Thanks, El," she gulped.
"No problem. I'll be right next door the whole time. And remember what Cragen said—you don't have to show him anything you don't want, just try to get him to meet up with you." He patted her on the shoulder and headed for the door.
"Wait!" Olivia took a step forward but faltered. "Uh, would you stay in the room? I know it's weird, but I don't want to be alone with this guy."
"Sure, Liv," Elliot said easily. He watched as she settled herself on the edge of the bed, pulling the laptop closer to her. She saw herself in a smaller viewport in one corner of the screen, and the main screen was currently empty, apparently awaiting her special caller. She felt her stomach flip again and did her best to steady herself. Elliot moved to stand at the door, his back to her in deference to what she was about to do. His unobtrusive presence and his respect for her modesty calmed her.
Suddenly an incoming call blinked on her screen, and Olivia hesitantly pushed "accept". The majority of the screen was filled with their perp's face and what was apparently his living room, a nondescript area with no window or other identifying features. Olivia forced a smile onto her face and said, "Hey, baby! You kept me waiting."
The man on the other end smirked and replied, "I called you as soon as I could. Our chats have gotten pretty hot and I had to get away from work before we could really talk."
The look in his eyes was calculating, however, not open or eager. Olivia's mind flashed back to the pictures of his most recent victims unwillingly, and she felt her next words seize in her throat. She knew instinctively that this man was dangerous because he was clever, and he was going to make her prove her sincerity. There would be no simple assurances about her "real job"—no, this perp was probably going to test her limits, and she knew she'd do what she had to, because at least six women were already dead. Realizing the enormity of what she was in for, she took a shaky breath. Instead of a witty response, she found herself blurting out, "Can you hold on just a minute? The low battery light on my camera is blinking."
"Sure, I'll wait for you, babe." He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, the picture of nonchalance. Olivia suspected he was feeling her out, waiting to see if she'd mess up and reveal their trap. She pressed the mute button on the screen and stood.
"Can you still hear me, baby?" she asked experimentally. When he didn't respond, Olivia let out a breath and stepped out of the camera's range. "Elliot." Her partner turned to look at her. "I can't—I can't look this guy in the face and pretend to—to—"
"Liv, you'll do fine. You've been our decoy before—"
"Not like this!" She gestured to her robe and the room. "I can't... I need something to look at besides him. If you'd stand behind the camera, I can look at you and it will seem like I'm making eye contact with him." She couldn't help the disgust evident in her tone when she mentioned their suspect.
Elliot stared hard at her for a moment before striding forward to the camera. "No problem, Liv. Just keep your eyes on me and you'll get through this."
Nodding her thanks, Olivia returned to the edge of the bed, settling herself and nervously rearranging her robe over her legs. Steeling herself, she looked at the computer screen and saw that her chat buddy had straightened when she returned to the bed. Unclicking the mute button, Olivia turned her face up to Elliot's, drawing strength from his determined expression.
"Sorry about that. It's plugged into the wall now, so we can talk as long as you want," she explained.
"Fantastic," their suspect answered. "So tell me, Vivian, what do you do for a living?"
Olivia chuckled. "Are you testing me?" She smiled shyly at Elliot and he nodded at her encouragingly. "Alright, I'll play. I'm a finance executive at a marketing company in Manhattan. I'm five-foot-eight and my favorite book is Pride and Prejudice. I love to go dancing—"
"OK, OK, so you match your profile." Glancing at the screen, Olivia saw that her chat partner was grinning sheepishly, but she knew it wasn't a sincere expression. "Let's get to know each other a little better, then. What's your favorite sex position?" their suspect asked bluntly.
Her eyes snapped back to Elliot's and she saw the look of discomfort that crossed his features. God, she would never live this down. Still, his eyes bored into hers, trying to transfer some of his confidence to her. "Well, that depends," she answered slowly, trying to think quickly. She was fairly certain this hadn't come up in "their" previous chats, so she couldn't implicate herself. She remembered the segment of undercover training where they'd said, Only lie when you have to. If you can, tell the truth about personal things, so it's harder to get tripped up.
She knew what her answer was, but she was hardly alone with their suspect. She didn't know if she had the guts to just state her preferences so baldly with everyone listening. Obviously she was taking too long to answer, though, because Elliot was making a "get on with it" motion with his hand. She could do this—she would just pretend she was speaking to Elliot and Elliot alone. They knew each other inside and out, so she didn't have to feel embarrassed about this, did she? The line between their personal and professional lives had blurred a long time ago.
What the hell, she thought. Clearing her throat, she said, "Usually I prefer to be on top. I like the control. But what really makes me hot," she dropped her voice just a bit, "is when a guy flips the tables and just takes over. I love making a tough man lose control," she admitted, defiantly holding her partner's gaze.
In the darkness of the room, she couldn't see most of Elliot's body, and even parts of his face were shadowed. But she could see his eyebrows shoot up at her admission, and she felt herself flushing a little. Staring into those familiar blue eyes, the next words out of her mouth were entirely unexpected—and suddenly, desperately important. "What about you? What turns you on?"
It was a shock when the perp's voice, not Elliot's, answered her. "Well, now, I'm glad you asked," the man said. It took all Olivia's determination to pretend it was Elliot talking instead of the oily voice that sent chills—the bad kind—down her spine. As their suspect started to outline some of his favorite activities, Olivia let her eyes roam over Elliot's face and what she could make out of his form. She wondered what turned him on—and then she wondered why she was so curious. Listening with half an ear to their perp as he got more and more detailed, Olivia tried to imagine Elliot making love in different positions. She couldn't imagine he would ever just lie back and let a woman control him—no, her partner was a take-charge guy and he would insist on maintaining all the power, even during sex. The thought made her legs clench involuntarily, and Olivia dropped her eyes to her computer screen to shake away the forbidden images.
"Aw, babe, I like it when you look at me," her chat partner cajoled. Olivia smiled and returned her eyes to Elliot and the camera as instructed. "That's better. Now that we're a little more acquainted, how about you lose the robe?"
Her heart sped up—she had apparently passed this guy's first series of tests, and now he was going to see just how genuine she was. Remembering to try and look seductive, Olivia brought her hand up and trailed her fingers down the V of the robe, stopping to rest on the sash. "That's moving a little fast, don't you think?" she breathed. Elliot's head twitched ever so slightly to the side, as if to say no. But did he mean no, she shouldn't show herself, or no, it wasn't too fast?
Swallowing thickly, Olivia dropped her hand back to her side. Elliot's eyes fell briefly to her hand and then just as swiftly returned to her face. His apparent resistance to seeing her naked only served to ignite a tiny, reckless spark in her, though. Rolling one arm, Olivia allowed the right shoulder of her robe to slip off, drooping over her elbow and only barely concealing her breast. She heard her chat partner whistle slowly but her attention was locked on Elliot and any discernable reaction he might have. Since she couldn't see his body, she had only his face to go by. And right now, he was looking quietly furious.
Grinning with more feminine confidence than she'd had thus far, Olivia didn't have much trouble pretending that it was Elliot begging her to let the robe slip a little more. Shifting on the bed, she pulled her legs up under her and adjusted the robe so that the slit fell open over one thigh. Elliot swallowed visibly and she heard a slight rustle of fabric.
"You're overdressed, you know," she murmured to him. Her partner—her real partner—tugged at the collar of his dress shirt but otherwise failed to do anything. Unaccountably disappointed, Olivia pouted. "I'd be happy to help you—" Remembering suddenly who she was supposed to be seducing, she changed course slightly. "If we could meet in person," she finished.
"About that..." Olivia's eyes snapped back to the computer screen when she heard the hesitation in the perp's voice. He seemed guarded again, and Olivia inwardly cursed herself for pushing too hard, too fast. The cagey look was back when he asked, "How do I know you're not a cop?"
That was the question at stake, wasn't it? How to convince this killer that she wasn't a police officer? Her mind raced but there was really only one thing she could think of if she wanted to prove her false innocence once and for all. Slowly raising her gaze to Elliot's again, she ran her tongue over lips that suddenly felt very dry. She focused on taking deep, slow breaths and the piercing blue of Elliot's eyes as she reached up to untie the sash keeping her robe closed. It seemed to take an eternity as her fingers fumbled with the knot she'd made earlier, when her primary goal had been to keep the damned thing firmly on. Finally, finally, she felt the belt slip free, and before she could change her mind, she shimmied out of it completely.
"Would a cop do this?" she asked, her voice husky.
The silk pooled at her hips and Olivia didn't dare look at herself in the computer screen. Luckily Elliot's sharp inhalation had been covered by their suspect's appreciative groan, or else the perp might have realized Olivia wasn't alone. At long last, Elliot's control seemed to have snapped, because his eyes fell to her bare breasts and stayed there. It was too dark to see whether he was looking at her with interest or disgust, but based on the intensity of his stare, Olivia decided it was the former. And that realization made her straighten her shoulders and offer herself fully to his gaze.
Their suspect was talking again, rambling about what gorgeous tits she had, but Olivia tuned him out. She was mesmerized by the way Elliot's eyes slid back and forth over her skin, and she felt the connection almost as viscerally as if he'd touched her. Shifting restlessly on the bed, Olivia felt the wetness between her legs grow, and she allowed herself to think the dangerous words for the first time: I'm aroused by Elliot.
Her hands were rising, heading towards her own breasts without conscious thought. She knew instinctively that Elliot would love to watch her touch herself. Her hands had almost reached their goal when the door flew open without warning. One of the other female officers burst into the room and gave Olivia a thumbs-up. Lost in a lust-induced haze, Olivia didn't immediately process the meaning. Then she heard the perp's voice again.
"...need a day to make sure my place is ready for you, sweet-tits," he was saying. "Then we can take all the time we want."
Oh. She'd succeeded, then. Assuming the officers in the other room had been paying more attention to the location than she had, Olivia hastily spit out a "Can't wait, stud," before leaping to her feet and pulling her robe back on. As if on cue, more officers and tech crew poured into the room. The lights brightened and excited chatter filled the small office as plans were made.
"Great job, Olivia," the head tech guy called out. She merely nodded and wrapped the robe more tightly about her. Unfortunately, she was still in a state of high arousal, and the feel of the silk rubbing against her nipples and over her thighs nearly undid her. Her gaze collided with Elliot's again and the emotions there were too overwhelming to process. He started to take a step towards her, one hand partially outstretched, but she gave a tiny shake of her head and sidestepped towards the changing room.
"I need a shower and some space to decompress," she announced to no one in particular. Captain Cragen had entered the room now and repeated her request for privacy to everyone. She didn't dare another glance at Elliot as she fled the room.
A/N: Well, this is my first non-Harry Potter fanfic, and I had written "I'm not JK Rowling" before I remembered that this story would need a disclaimer of another sort. So, I'm not Dick Wolf or NBC, and sadly I will make no money from this little gem. If you've watched SVU, please tell me what you think—above all else, I like my characters to actually be in character, so I appreciate any feedback!
Part two coming as soon as I can write it!