Except for the thin streak of light that snuck in through the window from the full moon outside, the bedroom was dark. John Munch lay across his double bed, his lanky frame outstretched but far from relaxed, as the day's events cluttered his overactive mind. He had explored every avenue he could think of in hopes it would give him a lead on the Bennett case, but had still come up empty-handed. And to add to his frustration, Fin had been temporarily partnered with a detective from Brooklyn SVU, a young, cocky, know-it-all cop who looked to the seasoned officer like he should still be in high school instead of wearing a shield. The new assignment was keeping Fin preoccupied, not to mention away from the one-six. And even though Munch would never admit it, he missed seeing his partner around the station house and working side-by-side with him.
He felt restless, nestled beneath the heavy blankets and with the continuous sounds of the city filtering into his otherwise quiet apartment. Folding his arms beneath his head, staring up at the darkened and undefined ceiling, his thoughts settled on the telephone conversation he'd had toward the end of his work shift with an absent Fin.
"Nah, man, I'm telling you. You shoulda seen 'em. Looked like a couple of high school kids. All I do is offer up my badge when Lake asks her out to dinner." Silence filled the line, causing Fin to press the telephone closer to his ear as he waited for his partner to respond. "Hey, you still there?"
"Yeah," Munch answered absently. "I'm here. Sounds like they really have something." He hesitated before adding, "Look, uh, I need to get off of here."
"You okay?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I'll talk to you tomorrow."
"Yeah," Fin said. "Take it easy."
Of course the cocky, know-it-all detective from Brooklyn would hit on Casey Novak. He was green in Munch's opinion, but sure as hell not stupid. After all, what normal, red-blooded male wouldn't notice Casey? She wasn't only beautiful but also smart and charming. What Munch couldn't figure out was, what was there about Lake that would interest her?
He rolled onto his side, catching sight of the neon red numbers that taunted him from the nightstand. Two thirteen. AM. Five hours had slowly passed since his telephone call with Fin. He had spent five restless hours in the tiny bed that he was nearly too long for, and had relived, for five long hours, past moments with Casey. The times when she would drop by the station, when she would offer gentle—even though inconsequential—touches to his arms or hands or shoulders, the rare occasions when she would accept his invitation to lunch, or when he had knowingly bent the law in the direction it needed to go and she had come to his rescue. It had been five seemingly endless hours longing for the spirited redhead.
Giving up on sleep, Munch tossed the heavy blankets aside and lowered his pajama-clad legs to the floor. The chilled wind flirted with the windowpanes and slinked through the aged grout, making its way across the room, causing him to shiver. He reached blindly for the bedside lamp, grasping at cold air in search of the pull string. Maybe he should have held on to the Clapper that Fin and Elliot had given him for his birthday. His fingers finally curved around and tugged on the beaded cord and the room was filled with a muted glow. John staggered into the bathroom, flipping the light on as he entered the room. He stared at his worn reflection in the mirror, each wrinkle on his face a reminder of times passed, hardships faced, and relationships failed. With his thoughts still preoccupied with Casey Novak, he opted for a cold shower despite the freezing temperatures the city offered.
Less than two hours later, John Munch was sitting at his desk immersed in the gruesome details of Audrey Bennett's case.
Olivia walked into the station at ten 'till seven. "At least I can beat Munch at getting the coffee started," she thought. However, as she neared her desk the smell of what Munch called 'coffee' assaulted her nose.
"Mornin' Munch," Olivia said, sarcasm detectable in her voice. "I see you got the coffee started. Can't thank you enough for that."
"Despite what your underdeveloped palette may say, this is a superb concoction," he responded as he swirled the black liquid in his cup and then lifted it to his lips.
Olivia rolled her eyes while filling her mug. Walking back to her desk and sitting down, she asked, "How's that case you caught the other night going?"
"No leads," he replied, producing what Olivia deduced was the case file. He sauntered towards her desk and placed it beside her mug. "Audrey Bennett, eighteen years old and seven months pregnant, was found on East 84th and Madison Avenue raped, beaten, and unconscious two nights ago. She was taken to Mt. Sinai and so far both the baby and she are in stable condition. Her right forearm was shattered and she has five broken ribs. Crime scene number one has yet to be determined; body was dumped on the corner." He pinched the bridge of his nose, collecting his thoughts before continuing. "The perp basically used her face as a punching bag: broken nose, shattered cheekbone, detached retina, and a deep cut along her left cheek." He hesitated, his expression becoming pained. "She has lesions along her back and torso from what are at least two separate weapons. Forensics is backlogged and we're waiting on their results." He reached across Olivia's desk for the roll of tape and grabbed the photographs documenting Audrey's injuries. Munch busied himself with arranging the images on the board and Olivia continued studying the case file until his voice interrupted her thoughts.
"Now, the vile works of these degenerates, sadly, never cease to amaze me. However, I have a feeling this was a premeditated and personal attack," he stated and looked towards Olivia. "Word from the peanut gallery?" he asked, turning away from the board and returning to his desk.
Olivia considered his suspicion and continued looking through the crime scene report. "That's a theory worth looking into. Has Audrey said anything that might support it?"
"She hasn't uttered a single word," Munch replied. He tossed his glasses onto his desk and ran his hands over his face, a gesture suggesting disillusionment rare to the cynical John Munch. "While she was still unconscious, I spent the better part of yesterday morning chasing down an endless paper trail that gave me nothing. The hospital contacted me in the afternoon to let me know she was awake. I stopped by but she wouldn't talk, so I decided to let her be. I thought maybe you could come along today and see if she opens up to you. I've re-interviewed witnesses, but no one seems to have seen or heard anything. Audrey just seems to have 'shown up.' Tell me, how the hell does a girl who is seven months pregnant just show up at the side of a building and no one sees anything?"
Olivia watched Munch's expression fluctuate from frustration to disappointment, and dropped the report on her desk, walking towards her friend. She thought back to the night that Maria Recinos phoned SVU, remembering the emotional toll the case had taken on her. She had worked to hide her obvious attachment, yet she had established a relationship, albeit unorthodox, with the little girl. Even now, the memories from that case remained fresh and the emotions it aroused in her were like the eerie silence that precedes chaos. "We live in a city where people live fast-paced lives. It's easy to get absorbed in our routines and not see what's happening around us. Add that to the fact that she was found in the early morning and most likely blended in with her surroundings." She placed a comforting hand on John's shoulder as his head dropped forward, a shadow of defeat crossing his face.
The doors to the squad room opened and Fin, followed by Elliot and Cragen, headed in. Munch looked up in surprise at his partner. "What, did Brooklyn get tired of you already?" he asked, bringing the murky liquid to his lips.
"You crack me up old man. To tell you the truth, I'm getting pretty fed up with Brooklyn myself. Got our perp though; meeting Novak for arraignment as soon as I grab the case files," he replied, nodding towards the box sitting on his desk.
Elliot sat a cup of coffee on Olivia's desk, causing John to look up.
"Can't you see she already has her coffee?" John asked.
Elliot rolled his eyes, grabbing the still half-filled mug of Munch's creation off of his partner's desk and dumping its contents into the trashcan as Olivia mouthed, "Thank you."
"All right, people, let's gather in ten to review the evidence on the Bennett case," Cragen said, heading into his office as his detectives readied themselves.
John gathered his notes and the case file from Olivia's desk, seeming dazed, and it wasn't until the third time Fin said his name that he looked up, muttering, "Huh?"
"I asked if you are feeling better than you were yesterday, although from the looks of it I'd say you never went to bed." Fin smirked, shooting a glance at his partner. "Hot night?"
"Yeah, like a snow day," he replied. "Let's just say I now know the intimate details of my aged bedroom ceiling. This bird made it to the nest by four this morning."
"Man, no wonder you're a sight for sore eyes. Want to talk about it?"
"No thanks, Dr. Phil," John replied, and was about to add to his sarcastic comeback when their captain called them over to the case board.
"What do we have on Audrey Bennett?"
Munch sighed, perched his glasses on his nose, and walked towards the bulletin. "It appears that no one knows much of anything about our vic. Up until six months ago she was one of five hundred girls at the Hewitt School on East Seventy-fifth Street. Classes ended the second week in June, but she dropped out three weeks short of finishing her junior year. Most of the students I was able to interview gave little indication to knowing her outside of class. However, many were out on a field trip so we need to head back there. From what I was able to gather, she was the quiet type. I imagine once we're able to interview more of the students from her class we'll have some indication as to who her friends might have been."
Munch leaned against his desk and removed his glasses, nodding in the direction of the board. "I'm thinking that once she found out she was pregnant, she dropped out." He gestured toward a photograph of Audrey with what the detectives assumed were her parents. Beside it was a newspaper clipping. His fingers skimmed the edge of a photocopied article dating back to August, and his gaze lingered on the couple pictured in it. "She's an only child. Her parents were killed four months ago in a car accident in Lincoln Tunnel, leaving her with no other family that we know of. Since then she's been living on her own in their apartment. Their life insurance was left in her name along with a sizeable inheritance. It seems that she has been living comfortably, but pretty much in seclusion. Since her parents' funeral, few people have seen or heard much from her."
Munch looked around the quiet room, observing his coworkers. He glanced down at his notes and continued with the case summary. "Neighbors say they stopped by a number of times but she never came to the door. The doorman said that every few days she'd go out, come back with some groceries, and he'd help her get them to her apartment. Aside from that, she seemed to have very little contact with anyone."
Elliot let out a long breath and walked towards the front of the room. "Do we know who the baby's father is?" he asked. "Is there a boyfriend we don't know about?"
"That's a possibility," Munch answered, his frustration evident on his face. "Hopefully a search of the apartment will turn up something. As for anybody she may have associated with, Hewitt is an all girls' school, and although it has some male staff, none had any direct contact with Audrey. In any case, I ran the names through the system. Didn't get a single hit."
"What about her doctor?" Olivia asked, still at her desk nursing her coffee. "She had to have been seeing an OB/GYN, right?"
Munch, once more, shook his head. "While interviewing her doorman yesterday, he mentioned that about once a month he'd help her get a cab to Amsterdam Avenue. I figure she must have been going to St. Luke's. Seems she's been seeing a Doctor Logan, but I checked and she's out of town for a medical conference." He sat down in his chair. "She's due back on Wednesday."
"Has Audrey given you anything to go on?" asked Cragen.
"Nothing," Munch responded. "She hasn't said a word to the doctors or me, and getting her to agree to the rape kit was almost impossible."
Cragen shook his head and approached the case photos tacked onto the board. "Any news from forensics?"
John glanced at the report from CSU. "Perp used a condom. Traces of spermicide but no semen. No fingerprints or DNA. Trace has yet to get back to us with findings from the scrapings collected from underneath her nails. Some fibers and residue were found on her body; those results along with details on the weapons used are pending. Given as we are missing a crime scene, there isn't much to go on."
Cragen nodded and started to walk away. "Olivia, John, go to Mt. Sinai and talk to Audrey. Maybe she'll be more willing to talk to a woman. Fin, Novak needs to see you and Lake before Henry Chanoor's indictment. Elliot, head back over to the Bennett's and see if the neighbors can tell you anything else about Audrey's parents. I want something solid by this afternoon." With that, he closed his office door and left his detectives to do their work.
The drive to Mt. Sinai had been quiet. Munch remained stoic and silent behind the wheel, and despite Olivia's need for the noise of the radio she left it off, taking note of his somber mood. Olivia cast a sideways glance at her co-worker and studied his weary appearance. The circles under his eyes spoke of sleepless nights, hidden though not forgotten demons, and discomfort. It was a dangerous consequence of their job, she knew, to identify too closely with a case, a victim, but also a consequence that they had all suffered at one time or another.
Once at the hospital, Olivia and John headed up to the sixth floor. The door to Audrey Bennett's room was ajar. John knocked lightly, and knowing the eighteen-year-old was unlikely to speak up, stepped into the room. Both Olivia and he came to a standstill just inside the room, their gazes latching onto Audrey's motionless body in the silver frame, twin bed. She lay on her back, bruised eyes closed, swollen face as relaxed as possible, and with one hand cupped over her distended stomach. After a moment, her eyelids fluttered sleepily. She groaned and shifted stiffly as she saw Munch, her eyes filling with a mixture of relief and discontent. But when she noticed Olivia, she turned her head, staring out the wide, bare window on the opposite side of the room.
"Audrey, you remember me, right? Detective Munch?" John felt helpless as Audrey turned her back toward him, not meeting his concerned stare but focusing instead on the skyline of the city and the bland wintry sky.
Olivia pulled John aside, tilting her head closer to his and whispering, "John, why don't you go check in with one of the doctors and see what they can give you? Let me try to talk to her."
John nodded and stepped out of the room. He remained in the hallway, within earshot, hoping that he would hear Olivia make the breakthrough he hadn't yet been able to make with the traumatized teenager.
Olivia stepped up to the side of the bed, offered the young girl a sad smile, and nodded towards the chair by the window. "Hi, Audrey. My name is Olivia. Do you mind if I sit down so we can talk for a few minutes?"
Audrey looked at Olivia, her face relaxing slightly as she nodded.
From the hallway, all John could hear was silence, which he took as an indication that not even Olivia could get Audrey to open up. Disappointed, and even more disheartened, he turned and headed down the hall to find Audrey's doctor.
Olivia sat down beside the bed, smiling, hoping to offer the young girl some reassurance. "Audrey, can we talk about what happened Sunday night?"
She looked up, fear present in her eyes, and reached out for Olivia's hand. Her chin began to tremble as tears rolled down her face.
Olivia covered Audrey's hand with her own, her heart breaking as she watched Audrey shake her head in strong opposition, unable, Olivia assumed, to relive the events of that night. "Honey," Olivia said softly, "The only way we can help you and your baby is to find out what happened. And the only way we'll be able to do that is if you help us. So, can you do that, help us find who did this to you?"
Audrey used her other hand to wipe away the tears that fell haphazardly onto her cheeks. She pressed her eyes shut and bit her lip in hopes of controlling her reaction. Pulling her hand out of Olivia's, she turned her head, whispering, "No one can help me. Please go." She closed her eyes, falling still and remaining quiet until, convinced that the girl had fallen asleep, Olivia climbed out of the chair and walked slowly out of the impersonal, sterile room.
Spotting Munch at the other end of the hall, Olivia offered a small wave and headed towards him. "Get anything from the doctors?" she asked, coming to a stop beside him.
John nodded. "Let's head back to the station, I'll fill you in on the way."
Back in the sedan, situated uncomfortably on the passenger's side of the seat, John wondered why he had agreed to let Olivia drive. When they had walked out of the hospital, he had felt drained, the effects from the last few sleepless nights beginning to take their toll on him. But thanks to Olivia's aggressive driving, he was now wide-awake.
"How does Elliot do it?" he asked.
"Do what?"
Munch held on tighter to the 'oh-shit' handle as he said, "Put up with your driving."
"He always gets to drive. Steals the keys every time. Besides, you look like death today. I'm sure your driving would be worse."
Munch nodded, leaning back in his seat and trying to relax. "So, did Audrey talk? Give you anything that might help?" he asked, knowing that Olivia's response would either give him some much needed relief or once again cause him to get lost in his dark thoughts.
"She's scared. When I asked her about Sunday night, she shut down. Said that no one can help her." Olivia paused at the light and glanced out her window. The city streets were filled with passersby, most walking briskly with their hands stuffed into coat pockets and heads tucked into their chests to brave the wind. She spotted a couple leaving the bistro across the street and noticed how the woman leaned in for a kiss and the man's arm wrapped around her shoulders while one hand rested protectively on her swollen stomach. Olivia felt a small smile grace her heart as she was reminded that, though her job presented her with the repulsive acts carried out by the human race, not everybody was screwed up. A small chuckle escaped her lips at the cliché admission. The light changed to green and she drove on, noticing the small flakes of snow that began to fall onto her windshield, melting upon arrival.
"Get anything from the doctors?" she asked.
"Dr. Browning has been Audrey's attending physician since she was admitted to the hospital. According to her, there weren't any injuries to Audrey's abdomen. The good doctor is theorizing that the rapist, in his twisted mind, didn't want to harm the fetus. As we already know, ligature marks were found on her arms and legs along with lacerations to her upper body. Her nose was broken and cheekbone fractured, and she suffered severe bruising to her inner thighs along with the trauma of the rape. But not a single scratch or bruise was found on her stomach. It seems our perp actually tried to protect the baby during the attack."
"That doesn't make sense," Olivia said, turning the car into the lot of the station house and parking. She turned to him, continuing. "Why'd the guy beat her if he was concerned about the baby? Why even target a pregnant woman?" She tossed Munch the keys, motioned to the door and gathered her belongings. Olivia stepped into the cold and walked briskly to the entrance of the precinct, shuddering once inside the warm confines of the building. John appeared a few seconds later, shaking off the wet snow that stained his coat collar.
"We'll go back to your twenty questions in a minute," John said as they stepped into the elevator. "But I was thinking about something the Doc said. The ligature marks found on her wrists suggest that her hands were tied together above her head, as if she was hanging. But, those on her legs seem to indicate that each one was tied to something, like so." He turned toward the back wall, spreading his legs shoulder-width apart and raising his hands above his head.
Olivia's eyes widened, taking in his rigid stance. "So you think she was attacked from behind?" she asked.
The elevator stopped, the doors sliding open, and John signaled for Olivia to step ahead. "No, I think she was first attacked, beaten and tied up, then raped."
Olivia paused, turning toward him. "If Audrey was held that way, suspended, it seems to me we aren't just looking for a crime scene. We're looking for some type of holding cell."
John nodded, adding, "Now, if this is how it happened then it would explain the fetus being spared."
They reached the glass-paned door to the bullpen and Olivia turned to look at him, "But it still doesn't answer any of the why's. Why the fetus wasn't hurt and why a pregnant woman was targeted."
"It doesn't tell us anything at all," Munch said, holding open the door to the squad room and motioning for Olivia to step inside ahead of him "Other than maybe the sadistic bastard actually has a conscience."
It was business as usual when Olivia and Munch walked into the squad room. Elliot was preoccupied with a telephone conversation, and the door to Cragen's office was ajar, the sounds of his voice drifting into the room.
"All right," Elliot said into the black telephone receiver, tapping the blunt end of his ink pen against the notepad he had been scribbling on. "Thank you. If you think of anything else, give me a call."
"Did you get something?" John asked, dropping his coat onto the edge of his desk and sitting in his chair. He noticed the newly added calendar that was tacked on beside the newspaper article, the only writing gracing its bare span being the few incidents they had been able to confirm.
"Nothing much from the neighbors. That," he said, motioning towards the phone that now sat cradled in its receiver, "was the Bennett's friendly doorman – Bernie. He's been the doorman at the Bennett's apartment building since before they moved in six years ago. He said Roger Bennett worked on Wall Street and his wife, Katherine, was a freelance photographer. According to Bernie, they were a normal family that lived a comfortable life."
"Is it just me or was Bernie the doorman no help at all?" John asked, openly frustrated, as he watched Elliot walk to the Plexiglas board at the front of the room
Elliot grabbed a dry erase marker from the board and twiddled with its cap before beginning to jot down notes and finishing off by circling a single day. He cleared his throat and stepped back from the bulletin, crossing his arms before continuing. "Roughly seven months ago, on the evening of May ninth, to be exact – " He smiled, glancing back at Munch. "Bernie remembers because it was his birthday - Mrs. Bennett left the building around ten thirty. Bernie said she seemed upset, was gone for about four hours, give or take. When she came back, she had Audrey with her. Bernie said Audrey was in pretty bad shape, her arm was bandaged, had a lot of bruises on her face, looked like someone had done a number on her. He asked if there was anything he could do but according to him, they were standoffish." Elliot scratched at his chin before continuing. "Now, despite her quiet nature, Bernie said Audrey was usually a cheerful girl. She would strike up conversation with him every few days and she had a girlfriends who would come home from school with her sometimes. But after that night he didn't see much of her, and by the end of the month she had dropped out of school."
For the first time since John had caught hold of the case, it started to finally make sense. She was attacked. She had to have been. But her name hadn't come up with any cases in the last three years in the NYPD registry. So she must not have reported it.
"John…"
All this time she had been living with the trauma of her first attack. And now her parents were gone.
"John!"
Munch looked up to see Cragen, Elliot, and Olivia all staring at him. He pushed his chair away from his desk, standing and leaning against it before continuing. "I think the answer here is fairly obvious. Audrey Bennett suffered from a broken arm and some sort of assault seven months ago. In the month that followed she became withdrawn and eventually dropped out of school. And now she's in the hospital, seven months pregnant and recovering from a brutal attack. This girl is scared, Cap. Part of it is from what she went through, sure, but what if…" He shrugged, glancing over the tops of his glasses at his captive audience. "Our rapist was careful not to harm Audrey's baby. He cared about it, but obviously not her. So, what if we're dealing with a second attack by the same perp? And what if Audrey was raped the first time seven months ago, on that night our doorman remembers? If she was—"
"Oh, God," Olivia said, sickened. "Then that means Audrey is pregnant with her rapist's child."
The winter sun made its last appearance of the day, peeking out through the clouds over the Hudson with ginger and mauve colored rays that teased the water's surface. An array of colors danced on the glass exteriors of tall buildings that seemed to disappear into the sky; the balmy and inviting shades disguised the frosty atmosphere that filled the city and dressed the streets with delusional warmth. For all the beauty that the setting sun had to offer, its early farewell on December afternoons was not among its fortes. The void it left behind was filled with the cold twilight as light vacated the corners of the city and drained the one-six of its glow, replacing it with subtle shadows. The already glum mood in the squad room had become perversely worse; each detective affected by the disturbing particulars of Audrey Bennett's case.
Olivia's face contorted, her lower lip quivering for a second before it turned white from the pressure of her teeth as they bit down on it. Her words still swam in her, creating a tangled web of implications and parallels. Images of Audrey in the hospital and mental photographs of her mother mingled in her mind. She inched towards the board, letting her fingertips trace the details of the smiles that once belonged to the Bennett family. Olivia cleared her throat and turned slightly to the group, pushing her hands into her pockets, weaving her thumbs through the belt loops, and resting her back against the board. "If there was a first attack we need a detailed sketch of the events of that night," she said, grabbing the marker from the edge of the board. She added a blank square and linked it to the picture of Audrey, captioning it 'fetus?' before returning to her desk. As she sat, she looked up at the others and nodded towards the board. "And that means we've got two victims now."
Cragen looked around the room, able to clearly see how worn out his detectives were. "All right, people, go home, get some rest. Elliot and Olivia, first thing in the morning I want you to work on getting access to Audrey's medical files, let's see if we can find anything that could shed some light on the events from May. Try to find out if Audrey received medical attention for her injuries and what those injuries were, specifically. Munch, Fin's back here tomorrow so I want you two to head over to Hewitt, see if you can pull her records. If you need to, bring Novak into it and get a warrant. Also, let's see if we can find her friends, anyone she's close to." With that the captain headed back into his office.
Munch watched Cragen slip away into the confines of his office, shutting the door and drawing the blinds so that only a sliver of light escaped. Opting for the rush of sub-zero temperatures filling his lungs over the solitude his apartment offered, John grabbed his coat off his desk and headed for the roof.
Elliot approached Olivia's desk, amused by the sight of loose papers spilling from the chaos of his side onto her uncluttered area. He sat down on the edge of her desk, crossing his arms and leaning forward. "Hey," he said, causing her to look up at him.
She caught his eyes and let a sad smile pass her lips. "Hey, yourself."
"You ok?" he asked, concern and curiosity lacing his voice.
She turned her face away from him, her eyes falling on the board. Her shoulders dropped and her posture relaxed. "Yeah," she answered, her voice slightly more frail and soft from being turned away. "I'm fine."
The shrill ring of her phone caused her to turn back to her desk. "Benson," she answered, cradling the earpiece between her ear and shoulder.
Elliot wound his way back to his desk, sitting down and logging onto his computer. He heard Olivia's laugh along with scattered bits of conversation. Elliot eyed her, turning up an eyebrow as she set the phone back in its cradle. He nudged the mouse out of the way and leaned forward on his forearms. Glancing around the room, noticing that everyone was immersed in conversation or in their own work, he looked back at Olivia. "You wanna grab a drink?" he asked.
She looked up, surprised by his offer. Cocking her head to one side and leaning back in her chair, she nodded lightly. "Yeah, that sounds good. Give me a half hour though? Casey's supposed to drop by in a few minutes."
"Does she have something new on the Bennett case?" Elliot asked.
"It's not about the case. Actually, she has a date tonight." As Elliot began to chuckle, Olivia added "No smart-ass remarks when she gets here, Stabler, or I'll make sure all you have on your desk for the rest of the week is Munch's coffee."
Elliot only smiled and reached for the phone. "You know, you'd think you would stop beating up on me," he said while punching numbers into the phone. "There are so many more entertaining things you could take up."
Olivia thought for a moment, before shaking her head, "Nope. Not really. Can't think of a single thing."
Casey came through the squad room door, grunting as she tried to balance her briefcase, purse and a shopping bag in her arms. Munch immediately looked up from his computer, jumping to his feet and heading over to her. As he reached for the shopping bag that was slipping out of Casey's grasp, he said with a slight smile, "Let me give you a hand with those."
Munch sat the bag down beside Olivia's desk and settled back in his chair, glancing up at the stunning redhead. He was sure she must have been saying something important, but at the moment he was captivated by the way her lips would move and then curve when she smiled. Her eyes glistened from the biting wind and her cheeks were flushed from the winter weather. As she removed her hat he heard her make a comment about how ridiculous her hair looked. Yet, John Munch was transfixed by her appearance. Her hair's windblown, her face red from the cold and she looks beautiful. Munch felt his mouth go dry and a flush creep up his neck and gradually warm the sides of his face. He pressed his chin into his chest and became immersed in the details of his desk calendar. Anything to save face.
"Thanks John," Casey said, sighing. Nodding in Olivia's direction, she added a breathless, "Hey Liv. Thanks for waiting."
"No problem," Olivia said. "Ready to get started?"
"As ready as I'll ever be," Casey said, grabbing the shopping bag that Munch had deposited on the floor and following behind Olivia as they headed towards the women's locker room.
As Olivia passed by her partner's desk, she placed her hand gently on Elliot's shoulder, saying, "I'll be back in a few."
Elliot and John looked up as the steady beat of heels neared the squad room. Casey came to a stop in the doorway, having been transformed from the no-nonsense ADA who dressed conservatively in knee-length skirts and blouses to a seductive and alluring woman. The emerald-color, off the shoulder dress she wore matched the color of her eyes and fit snuggly against her shapely figure accentuating every curve but concealing any flaws.
Elliot eyed Casey and then Olivia beside her. He lifted an eyebrow at his partner and then nudged his head in Casey's direction, letting out a long, falling whistle. He leaned back in his chair, cracking his knuckles before adding, "Counselor, those softball uniforms do a serious injustice."
Casey allowed a small laugh to slip through her lips, nodding at Elliot in thanks for his compliment. She traced her right foot behind her left, tilting it on the floor before bending her knees and giving a playful curtsy. Olivia smirked at the silly act and walked around Casey to her desk, settling in her chair.
Casey set her briefcase beside Olivia's desk and nervously worked to iron out a non-existent wrinkle on her dress with her hands. She turned her head to the side slowly, red wisps of hair falling into her line of vision. Her eyes fell on John who sat silently at his desk, his hand resting idly against his cheek. As she stared at the detective, it occurred to her that on only a few select occasions she had seen his deep brown eyes; she found herself wishing that she could see what his tinted glasses masked. Yet, she realized the implications of the silent request would be to know John Munch on an intimate level she doubted she'd ever have access to. All of a sudden and for a reason she couldn't explain, she felt shy. A few seconds passed. Seconds filled with silence, without a word spoken by or reaction from John. And again unexplainably, Casey felt something she didn't expect. Disappointment.
Elliot and Olivia glanced at each other from their desks, her slim and arched eyebrow asking him what the hell was going on with those two. Elliot shrugged his shoulders and tilted his head to one side, making a mental note to revisit the topic later that night.
Casey forced a smile and turned to grab her purse. John's chair grinding against the floor caused her to raise her head in his direction. He approached her casually, grabbing her coat off of Olivia's desk and holding it out for her. As he neared her their eyes lingered on each other once more and he commented softly, "Casey, you look beautiful."
She glanced up at him, surprised by his delayed response. She felt a blush warm her cheeks and a toothy grin go on display. "Thank you." She threaded her arms through the sleeves of the coat and shrugged into it, securing the many buttons that lined its front. "Well, um, I should go. I'm supposed to meet Detective Lake for dinner in twenty minutes."
At the mention of Lake's name, the name that had pushed away his sleep the night before, John felt his breath escape, like he had been punched in the gut. "Well, have a great time."
The sudden change in John's demeanor was noticeable, surprising the others in the room. Under the weight of the quizzical stares being directed at him, he grabbed his coat and hurried out the room.
Casey cleared her throat, garnering both Elliot and Olivia's attention. "Hey, uh, Liv? Do you mind if I leave my bags and briefcase in your locker tonight? I'll stop by in the morning and get them."
"Oh yeah, sure," Olivia said. "I'll put them in the locker room." As Liv headed out of the room, Casey worked her fingers into her gloves.
"C'mon, Liv and I'll walk out with you," Elliot said, climbing out of his chair and placing his hand across the small of Casey's back as he ushered her toward the door.
Outside of the precinct, Casey hailed a cab, saying her good-bye's before Elliot and Olivia headed in the direction of O'Maley's two blocks away. After Casey gave directions to the driver and settled into the seat, she found her thoughts becoming consumed by John. She wondered what had brought about his sudden change in mood tonight. In the past she would have thought nothing of it, yet tonight she realized that she wished it had been his hand that had graced the small of her back. His company as she walked out of the precinct. His voice being the first she heard when she had walked back into the squad room. The realization that John Munch had become a fixture in her life and his company the source of a happiness she had never known brought an unexpected sinking feeling. It was the fearful awareness that not only had she gradually, blindly and chaotically fallen for a man; the feelings that it evoked in her were uncharted. The cabbie's voice interrupted her thoughts, and she searched through her purse for the right amount of change. As she made her way to the restaurant's entrance she struggled to hide the disappointment that cloaked her earlier excitement, her last thoughts before entering the establishment being of John Munch.