A/N: Wowsers! I may have only gotten a few reviews for that first chapter, but the response I've been getting via subscriptions to this story speaks volumes... I'm guessing the first chapter made an impact and I'm truly floored by reviews mentioning exactly what I was going for. *Squeal* Lol. Just let me say one thing about it though...HOLY TYPOS BATMAN! I had to upload it again. Sorry about that. I lack a beta, so it's all me. So on with the story and thanks bunches to those who took the time to review... it really warms my little SVU heart when you do :D

Disclaimer: I don't own these sexy mofos... just the ones I create... damn shame.


If Walls Could Talk

"It's dangerous
It's so out of line
To try and turn back time."

Chapter 2

"I touched her soft skin... it was smooth and fair... just like her hair. She had silky, smooth hair. So, I ran my fingers through those shiny blonde curls... She wanted me to run my fingers through them. She told me through those little blue eyes, she didn't want me to stop. I know she wanted me to kiss her. I kissed her. Then I touched her. Her soft skin. She looked at me pleading for more, so I ran my hands down her body. She wanted me to slide my finger ..."

"Alright! That's enough," she exhales.

Sliding out of her chair that is situated at the heavy wooden table inside the interrogation room, Olivia stands up directly in front of Wilson Parker. Her eyes invade his pupils searching for a soul, answers, reasons, while her fingertips bore into the wood restraining her from strangling him right there.

She contemplates those actions for a split second but instead she simply stands, straightens her back and glares at him. No words can explain this lack of a human being. She cannot fathom listening to him, with that sleazy, altruistic choice of words much longer. He's enjoying it, the description of his sick mind. She longs to wrap her hands around his neck and show him what pain is. The same pain he caused that little girl. If only she could get the names of his accomplices, or whatever they are, before she does so. That would help. Yes, most definitely. If only he would give up the names of his neighbor buddies. Those sick bastards, she thinks to herself as her eyes widen and she tries to maintain composure.

She realizes she has a whole new species of scum she still hasn't found a way to dispose of yet. With that thought, her heart is in her throat. She can feel the pound of it in the veins of her neck, her wrists and even in her temples.

Cragen watches behind the two way mirror as his detective struggles to maintain herself and the situation. She's taking this case personally, he knows that, he's just not sure if she is comprehending it. He knows a little bit about Olivia's history and he knows what she is possibly thinking. It'd be wise of him to step in but he waits to see if she can work her magic as she normally does, or has done many times in the past.

But this isn't the past, he realizes. She isn't the same, he saw that the day the other half of her puzzle fell out of the puzzle box. No, it hasn't been the same for any of them. She can handle it though. He releases a deep sigh and continues watching. He'll just see where she takes this.

Taking a few deep breaths while focusing her gaze on the wall behind the perp. Her breathing and rage seem to subside a bit, well at least to the naked eye of her audience.

She strides around the table grasping Parker's dark green polo in her fists. She's never been one for rage, unlike her former partner, but she can't help but want to kick the shit out this prick.

"What is she doing?" Cragen questions her actions under his breath. He doesn't want go in there, but he's on the edge of his patience with her.

Olivia takes a step closer to Parker. He stares back at her with his wire rimmed glasses pushed firmly against the bridge of his nose. Olivia glares at him without speaking a word, without a breath. As she stands next to him contemplating her next move, a small smirk forms in the corner of his mouth. Olivia feels herself flinch and then her eyelid twitches.

What the fuck does this prick think is so funny?

She's slipping from the edge now. Falling further into her mind's rage. Something suddenly clicks and she's not sure who she is right now.

How dare he put his hands on that little innocent 5 year old girl? How dare he do that to the girl's mother? Why force their shattered family to repeat history? Wasn't the mother's rape that brought the young child into this world enough heartache for one lifetime?

Fin and Munch join Cragen outside the interrogation and continue to watch outside the two way mirror. As Fin is about to join his partner inside, Olivia does the unthinkable.

Gripping Parker's shirt even tighter, she leans her face closer to his trying not to breath in his rancid scent.

"Do you know what wood feels like," she questions him. He doesn't answer. "Well, I'm sure it's not pleasant," she quips. When he doesn't flinch, the last straw has been dealt in her mind. With one solid swing of her shoulders, his face slams against the wooden table below them. Her fists clutch his shirt with a death grip as she loses control, as she and her captain had feared.

"Tell me why you really did it? Why did you loan her out to your friends? Does it make you feel good to overpower an innocent child? Huh? Sick fuck! Oh, once we figure out who they all are, you're all going somewhere real special."

She pulls him up by the collar of his shirt slams him up against the wall with all her strength. Leaning in with her face only inches away from his grotesque ear, she breathes heavily as her her face flushes with rage. His glasses are pushed down his nose and his short brown hair, peppered with gray, splays across his his scalp unevenly. "Heeeeyyy... you can't do this..."

"What, is she some kind of play toy to you? She's an innocent child! You're going to rot in a cell somewhere where you'll be real popular with the regulars, or better yet, how about hell?" she growls under her breath.

In a blind fury, she kicks his legs from under him and he flails to the ground. As she is about to thrust her foot into his stomach, Fin and Cragen bust through the interrogation door.

Grabbing her by the waist and pulling her away from the perp sprawled out on the floor, Fin drags her a few steps away from him. "Hold up, Benson! Come on now, you know this doesn't look good."

Panting loudly as Fin sets her down off to the side, she gives him a death glare and starts toward the perp again until Cragen speaks up. "Out Benson! Fin will take over this case. My office now! That's an order!"

She takes a few deep breaths before moving. Each one of her breaths flip the strands of her more natural, shoulder length, dark brown hair out of her face. She swivels her body around and struts out of the interrogation room toward Cragen's office. Giving Fin a quick glance, Cragen turns around and follows Olivia.

...

Closing the door behind him once inside his office, he turns to Olivia giving her a solemn look before he speaks.

"Cap, I can expla-"

"Save it Olivia. You're off the case. It's too personal for you..."

"Cap, I'm sorry about what happened in there but you gotta let..."

"I need you to let Munch and Fin take it from here," he cuts her off. "You're lucky I'm not penalizing you for your actions in there, Olivia. You need to get your head on straight or I'll force you to take some time off or... ."

"Cap'n," she looks toward the floor now as his words start to sink in. The furor she was just sporting only a few seconds ago, slowly dissolves into her more analytical demeanor. "I need to work this case. I just got a little over my head for a second," she pleads with her palms outstretched like she does so often toward an uncivilized perp. "I can handle it, let me..."

"No, decisions already been made. You're too close..."

"Cap, what do you mean? I'm too close... all I need is a few more minutes with him and then he'll rat out his neighbor buddies who are in on it," she pleads motioning her hands toward the interrogation.

"You know what I mean," he spews harshly. "You're too close. Fin and Munch have it now."

She looks at him quizzically wondering how in the world she is too emotionally involved in this. Running through the details of the case, she ponders a few that he might be referring to. As quickly as the thoughts come, it hits her. The realization hits her like a ton of bricks. She leans her back against the office door and stares at her captain in amazement. She's too personally involved?

She is too emotionally involved, she explains to herself.

This little girl, reminds her of herself in a way. The child was a product of her own mother's rape. Why hadn't she put two and two together before? That's where all that pent up rage came from she imagines, plus everything else that runs through her mind constantly. Her life. Her partner. Work. A lack of control. The control she gained from her partner. Former partner. As silly as it sounds, she partially blames her lack of realization on him. She wouldn't have reacted that way if he were there.

She shakes her head without speaking. Elliot had been her grounder. He had pulled her back when she needed it and she did the same for him. It was just a natural rapport they had and had gained virtually from the day they met.

It was frustrating to her how fast that communication and knowing could slip away and for her to feel so out of control. This is the first time in months she's felt incapable. Unable to do the things she drove herself to do the last 12 years, shifts her whole being. What is she doing?

Now that he isn't there, she hasn't felt that tug that brings her back to reality. It's diminishing. The whole thing is diminishing... to her being, to her abilities, to her confidence as a cop.

It's not fair that he leaves and she's stuck here second guessing her abilities and herself in general while he goes soul searching.

While taking a deep breath, she stares straight at Cragen. He stares back reading her realization that flows freely across her features. Her shoulders slump and her eyes search his face for an answer which she realizes he doesn't have.

Her captain has noticed the same things she has been feeling. His detective is missing something. Her balance. Her capacity to do work. Her other half. It hurts him to see it happening but there is little he can do. She seems defeated but he knows she'll never let on that is he is or that she could be on the brink.

She chews on her bottom lip with her hands on her hips.

Ok, she can do this, she thinks to herself. She ponders letting Munch and Fin carry the rest of this out because she knows she could end up doing something to compromise the whole situation. She'll never do that, she can't let a handful of men responsible for hurting this child and her mother will walk free. She can't let her personal feelings affect this case. Not now, not ever.

Snapping Olivia from her thoughts, Cragen speaks up, "Liv, I need you to go talk to the girl's mother. See what you can get out of her and maybe she can give you some of the men's names that live in and around their apartment. Once you're back, you're done..." Cragen orders in a softer tone.

Olivia stands there staring at the particularly fascinating black spot on the floor. Adjusting her stance, she bites her lower lip and nods absently as Cragen watches her. Before he can utter another word, she is heading toward her desk, grabbing her keys from off the corner and heading toward the elevators. Cragen sighs and shakes his head half-heartedly. As he watches the elevator enclose his detective, he sighs for the one millionith time that morning and heads back toward the interrogation room to see how his two other detectives are coming along.

...

The warm air caresses her skin as she walks toward the sedan parked outside of the precinct. The sun is out full force today, peaking out more than enough from behind sporadic cumulus clouds hovering over the city. A bead of sweat rolls down her temple as the thickness of the humidity makes itself known. She rolls the sleeves up on her brick colored blouse, wishing the NYPD allowed attire other than the thick fabric of her black work pants. It's mid April, but the air has been exceptionally warm of late she's noticed. Has been for the past week or so.

Today, she reasons with herself, is a day of self recognition. Self finding. She's found herself in one hell of an emotional rut. When she lost that little bit of self control she had left back there is beyond her. Hopping into the driver's seat she looks into her side mirror and slowly pulls from the curb.

While driving toward Sheila Coleman's apartment she thinks about the last few months. She thinks an awful alot these days in the sedan. More times than not, she prefers to interview alone. Most times she is refused but on the rare occurance that is she is permitted, she does most of her thinking here.

Her gaze shifts immediately to the empty seat next to her.

She's not going to lie to herself. It tears at her heartstrings that Elliot isn't there sitting next to her as she drives them to their destination, whereever that may be. She hears him chatting about his kids and how they are doing in school. Sometimes he'd mention Kathy and say she joined a new book club. She goes to a meeting every so often if she gets home from her new job early enough. She remembers smiling when he'd mentioned Kathy getting a new job once. She was happy for her and them. They were determined people and that's what they fed off of she imagined.

Then her mind wanders to what he's doing right that second as she remembers doing the night before. Is he with his family? She can't imagine him not being with them. But, you never know she tells herself. She coasts in the sedan closing in on her destination. She's not looking forward to this. Who would be in her situation? Cragen believes in your questoning abilities still, she reminds herself, so keep your composure with this woman. You can't break in front of her. Gotta keep professional. This. Is. Your. Job.

But she's like your own mother.

She quickly tries to think of something else as she nears the apartment of Ms. Coleman. Her thoughts go back immediately to Elliot, even if she wants them to or not. It's a never ending battle there.

Slowly, those memories fade as she nears the apartment complex. Pulling to the curb, she turns the engine off and just sits there for a second. Her mind is reeling from everything going on in her life right now and what isn't. She decides to do something different. She decides to go over the things that are going for her since she just got done with the things that are not.

Instantly, she goes over the events of the previous night with Eric. She had gotten home late and her heart had jumped into her throat the instant she saw him in her bed sound asleep.

He's been that missing puzzle piece in her personal life that she's been missing for a long time, she feels. Or, she thinks he is. He's everything she needs right now. He's a strong entity. He's that special gift giver that keeps on giving when all is said and done. Well, he has been for the past 5 months.

She actually enjoys going home to her apartment now knowing someone's going to be there. Eric is something, she thinks to herself and she can't help feeling childish, but she has a boyfriend. A friend. A warmth to cuddle up to at night and she's happy.

Other than today, she has been content to come into work. The way he makes her feel, almost makes her forget where she's going when she leaves each morning. That feeling lasts until she gets there but then things change and that's another story. She's glad one aspect of her life is turning around even if the other decides to take the other road. Her personal and professional lives have never really been in sync and that's ok. She'll take each good thing that comes her way one day at a time.

She sits for a few moments longer in the car watching the passerbys swarm from street to street in front of her carrying on with the same urgency Manhattan always has.

Stepping out of the car she stretches her out her limbs as she prepares to walk the short half block to her destination. Torrents and torrents of people litter the street and she can't help wonder if Elliot is out there somewhere among the many nameless and faceless people.

No, she thinks. No, she would feel him.

She could almost instantly feel his presence when he walked into a room in the past. She felt him around before she even saw him or heard him.

It's quite frightening when she thinks about it. She never really thought about it before, it was just an in the moment kind of thing while they were partners. It was a natural occurance that she just couldn't help. It was just there.

As she walks to the corner of the street, cars and cabs swoop around street signs and traffic stops in a flurry of action. She pauses to take in a couple with a young child standing there waiting for a chance to grab a taxi in the myriad of onlookers looking to do the same.

As she watches them flail their arms and wave a taxi down, her gaze wanders slightly beyond the street to a building that intersects perpendicular to the one she is on and sees a newer building she hasn't really paid attention to before. She watches people come and go from the front entrance wondering what they could possibly be up to on this rather warm day as the city bustles with activity. She watches as men and women of all ages pass through the glass doors seemingly oblivious to her watching. She is about to turn her attention away when she sees a rather masculine figure come out of the front glass doors sporting a seemingly light weight, long sleeved, grey colored tshirt with light colored jeans on. His hair is short to where it's almost bald and he has a light goatee from what she can tell. His physical build is so strikingly familiar to her she gets that bubbling sense in the pit of her stomach. No one she knows really has those types of characteristics except one person.

Elliot.

As she strains her eyes to watch the figure, he stops at the entrance by some brick pillars used as decoration. She watches him pull out what appears to be an IPhone while he feels for the edge of one of the shorter brick pillars so he can lean against it.

No, it can't be him, she thinks. He's sitting there seemingly going through something on his cell phone. Her curiousity has gotten the best of her and as she walks initially to cross to the next block to where she had intended, she instead walks to the other side of the street to where she can get a closer view of what she thinks, hopes, is Elliot. She doesn't want to get her hopes up. It's almost foolish to her to think he'd still be in the city, this close to her still. He's been this close and she hasn't seen him in 8 months? Looking more closely at the male she almost wants to assume it is him.

A nervous feeling resonates in the pit of her stomach as she feels the weight of her own cell phone in her pocket. She thinks maybe of giving him a call. If it's him, she'll be able to notice when he answers. She has his number from the times he's called her and for a split second she contemplates doing exactly that.

Call him.

She blinks a few times trying to clear her vision to maybe help her zoom in but it's to no avail. She fumbles in her pocket for her cell and as she opens it she sees a very clear reminder of the night before. Not only a mental reminder, but yet another emotional one. Eric's missed call while she was still at work lights up her phone as she remembers his insistence she call him to let him know how she is doing. She huffs at the insistence but still finds if cute of him to feel the need to know she is ok. He's worried is all, she thinks. As she catches a glimpse of the time, 10:45 am, she realizes it's only been a little over 3 hours since she's seen him. She kind of misses him.

With that last assessment, she decides to not call Elliot's number. She really doesn't need that stress right now. What if he had picked up, she questions herself. They wouldn't have been able to talk since she is on the job. She could have just left a message, explaining she just wants to see how he is but she doesn't want to impose. He's the one who hasn't called her in months.

As she remembers distinctively sensing something, someone, a presence around her that she remembers, she glances back toward the single storied brick building from a few minutes ago searching out the masculine figure. The man is gone. Possibly, Elliot. Maybe gone for good. She scolds herself for being so afraid of what could have happened. She's tired of how indecisive she can be. It's irritating beyond belief and there is nothing she can do right now. She has a job to do.

But first, call Eric, she thinks. She slides open her cell phone again, clearing the missed call and calls her home phone. She knows Eric is there. He should be awake. For some reason, having thought she just saw Elliot, shakes her a bit. She's a little eager to talk to Eric. Hopefully, this is what he wants, needs, from her.

Thinking about the talk they need to have, she remembers his urgency in wanting her to call him while she's at work. This morning drums into her senses as she remembers his voice deep and demanding.

Don't forget to call me today.

Talking to him about personal wants and needs is the furthest from her mind right now. He just needs to understand. She was fine with him last night, coming home, sleeping with him. She was happy about their situation, their relationship. She still is but this morning at work, well she doesn't know what that was. She needs to somehow blend her feelings from her personal life and absolve some of the chaos at work or there is going to be dire consequences. She can't lose grip on her work ethic. It's not acceptable, for her, and not fair to everyone else.

When she started this job, no one, not her, not her coworkers, nor Cragen could have know how much her and Elliot would become one in the same. It's impossible to just do life after losing that piece of a whole. God, she has got to grow up, she thinks. Just go and knock on the fucking door and do what you do, she tells herself.

Elliot's gone. Get over it. Look at what you have back home, she tells herself. That's alot easier said than done.

She huffs out a breath and listens to the sounds around her.

The sound of her cell phone ringing breaks her daze as she looks back across the street once again. She can't help it. She can tell herself all she wants to move on and let Elliot be, but she can't help but keep scolding herself for losing sight of the man who was sitting just right over there. He was right there. Not knowing if it was him or not almost makes her angrier than not having the courage to get closer. Make contact. What she wouldn't do to see him in person again. It's been too damn long. At the thought a deep voice resinates in her ear.

"Hey babe, miss me already?"

"Hey Eric and of course. Just giving you a call. I'm out on duty can't talk long so I'll seee you when I get home, ok?"

"Oh you're on duty," he exclaims at realization. "Well you could have waited til you get back to call me babe," he concedes.

"Well you seemed to want to know how I was last night so I thought I'd do it while I was thinking about it," she smiles to herself thinking how incredibly negated she sounds. She doesn't have to call him. He's lucky she can while on duty. She sighs and shifts her stance a little. "Well, I'll talk to you later. I'll see ya when I get home."

"Ok... be careful. I want you in one piece tonight," he chimes in a husky voice and she can hear the grin behind it.

She shifts her stance again, "Yea, I will be," she laughts softly while listening to his light breathing on the other end.

"Ok, bye then... Oh wait, umm you want to do dinner tonight? I mean if you get home early enough. I'd like to take you to this great restaurant only a couple of blocks from your place."

"Umm yea," she chides enthusiastically. She smiles brightly through the phone in her hand. She can feel that he senses it also because with her answer he laughs on the other end.

"Ok, then. Sounds like a date," he responds just as enthusiastically. "And umm Miss Benson, don't be late," he adds with a small laugh.

She smiles again to herself and laughs at his corniness. This is what she has. Things are not strained with them. She needs to open up more.

I need to let go and stop letting tiny things get the better of me. Stop thinking too much about your indepenedence and live a little, she tells herself. It's the least you can do with what you have.

Before answering, she smiles that perky half smile of hers as she watches the city dwellers pass her on the sidewalk.

"Ok, Mr. Phillips. I'll see you tonight. I'll call you when I get ready to head out. Bye babe."

Laughing through the phone in her ear in that dark husky voice again he retorts, "Ok, bye beautiful... I'll be waiting."

S/N: The lyrics.. yea, I don't own. R&R? :D