Disclaimer: I do not own SVU. That's that. Sorry if Mr. Dick Wolf or associates are offended. Please don't sue.

Yay! EG! YAY! Fun. A little something I wrote late at night when I was on another SVU night. hehe.

And I swear, Loved Without Loss WILL be updated... eventually.

heh.

There is some disturbing content in here, so don't get mad (and I don't mean in the gay-love way).

Enjoy!

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I sat at my desk drifting slowly away from reality, refusing the present for a moment in some last-ditch effort to keep from breaking something. What a day, what a wild day. I started off the morning in a scramble to get all my clothes together and slug down some cold coffee, cursing that I was unable to spend five more minutes in bed. Then I get a flat on the way to work only to find out I was Bellevue bound two minutes before I got to the squad room by a phone call from my partner, Olivia Benson.

So then the morning progressed, testing my sanity, my patience and will power. A psychotic mother poured boiling waster over her nine-year-olds genitals because she caught him masturbating. She brought him in, saying he'd been making himself some tea and splashed himself. Her son told us a different story when he realized she couldn't hurt him anymore. She was a loony bin, grumbling about how sex and men were evil. And before lunchtime she was in central booking. The little boy was in the hospital, awaiting some kind of reconstruction surgery.

Then as I was about to eat a cheap gas station sandwich we got a call from a distressed girl. She was twelve, her name was Sandy Akamatsu. She had HIV. She didn't want to talk, but she couldn't have got it from an accident and she hadn't required any donated blood lately. But she had a twenty-eight year old boyfriend, who she swore she wouldn't talk about because he was her brother's best friend. Incidentally, her boyfriend readily admitted he was taking Thorazine. Tests were pending for the virus strain after he said yes he had a girlfriend, Sandy Akamatsu, saying she was eighteen.

And now we were wrapping up the day with a blitz from behind rape at a bus stop. It was almost ten, I had a horrible headache, and I wasn't sure I could drive home. I felt sick.

Nadine Murray was leaving after giving her account of the events, reliving her rape mentally for Olivia and Fin. I couldn't do it.

"-iot? Elliot? El, you OK?" asked Olivia.

I looked at her, through her.

"Meh."

She frowned. She was so concerned. Something other than partnership. I wish I could tell her to dream on.

"I'm fine," I said, so she'd leave.

"OK," said Olivia. "So long as you're sure."

She turned and left. I stared at my hands.

My desk was covered in paperwork and office supplies. A family photo smiled at me and a small sculpture of a blobby cop holding a badge given to me sat by the phone. Ana Barker gave it to me, a girl with lukemia that had been molested by a volunteer at the children's ward in Bellevue, pretending to be Santa Claus. But she was recovering and chemo was going well.

"You're looking as you are in the very bottom of the depths of despair, my over-zealous, hero-cop chum," said Munch, who stopped by my desk.

"Go fig," I said.

"Well we've dealt with worse."

I grunted.

"Well fine, I'll see you tomorrow."

Munch left too. Fin said nothing and Cragen was out. I was alone, the whole office silent.

I decided I couldn't concentrate on my desk and figured I'd go have some nightmares. I got up to head for the crib.

On my way I heard a soft step and before I could turn two hands clamped around my neck. Panic surged through me as I struggled to pull away.

"GUESS WHO?" They yelled.

"Y-yer ch-chokin'!" I gasped.

"OOPS! I'm sorry!" I recognized George right away. "I wish I wasn't so short!"

Adrenaline pumped through my veins. "No prob. I thought you were off today."

He smiled at me, totally carefree. He was dressed casually, a black polo shirt and clean, dark blue jeans. His handbag (pardon me, satchel­) was slung around his shoulder.

"I wanted you," he said, hugging me.

I smiled.

Squeezing me tight we sat down on the stairs. He told me about his day off, about the new drapes he bought and some new dishes he got because they were on sale and he just had to. And then he told me about how he cleaned the house and went to the store with his friend Sue and he saw a nice cashmere sweater in teal on cheap at Macey's and he had to get it and a pair of matching corduroys. Then he bought groceries and a new plant for the study.

He took a deep breath because he'd been talking very fast. "Whew, so that was my day. Was yours nice?"

How could I spoil his? I thought for a moment, then kissed him. "It was fine. Business as usual."

He smiled. "That's good. I made your favorite for supper, it's sitting in the oven on warm."

"Mm," I said, "race you."