Wow, I spelled Fin with two n's...I noticed that the day after I posted the first chapter. I'll admit, it's a stupid mistake, but I also typed it up at 3 in the morning.
I really really appreciate your reviews, especially the insightful ones from EnforcerAndAccuserFan, and .
(to ally, I enjoyed your review, thank you so much. Spelling is usually my strong point, idk what happened there...and my point with Olivia hanging up so quickly was that she was still fuzzy from the memories)
I just hope that you all will not get bored with this, I'm not the best at twists and turns. So this story is probably not going to be too long, which is a shame, I really like long stories.
Originally I was going to make the predicament with Will and Winona some small part of the story, but I'm not sure about it now. It might make an appearance later on, when I find a place for it.
Does anyone happen to imagine the character's voices when they read? For me Fin is the easiest one. :-)
(I hate this POV...damn it.)
EDIT: I'm on a short vacation right now, a weekend trip with the folks. So I'm not going to be able to write everyday like I planned. Plus senior year is about to start...this story may end up being updated every week or so. My apologies!
"Extra relish please." The hot dog vendor nodded his response, grabbing the relish bottle. Olivia smiled and turned back to her cell.
"Elliot, why would she kill him with the statue? You saw how she was, priding everything that was worth money." The man raised an eye in interest in her conversation, pausing with the bottle in his hand.
"No, it wasn't just some block of wood. You saw the empty space in the cabinet? It came from there, I'm sure of it." A few moments of silence followed as Olivia's brows furrowed, and she dug around in her pockets for money. Pulling out a five, she thrust it into the hand of the eavesdropping vendor and grabbed her dog.
"Listen, El, I'll be there in a couple minutes, we can argue then." And with that she shut the phone and shoved it back in her pocket, taking a better hold on the hot dog and took a bite. She smiled, relish(PUN)ing in the mystery-meat goodness, and walked along peacefully. She watched passively as business men in their tailored suits, mothers leading their children, homeless trying to scrape by. This was one of the not-so-often times when the detective could look at citizens and not see them as victims or perps, not make up reasons behind the expressions they wore on their faces.
She was only a couple blocks away from the precinct and a few bites away from finishing her hot dog when someone crashed into her shoulder.
It wasn't like it was something never heard of before, especially in good ol' New York, New York.
Olivia turned around, a furious look on her face, trying to pick out the one responsible for the incident. Her hot dog was, luckily, still intact, but she scanned the crowd anyway. A short distance away, she saw the flash of a face turned toward her. A face that would be ingrained into her memory for as long as she lived.
Turning away, Olivia felt her body turn cold, and she resumed walking. The people she passed all seemed to have the same curious expression on their faces, in her eyes, as her pace quickened. Get back to the 1-6...get back NOW.... it became a mantra that increased its speed as the number of blocks between herself and safety were whittled down by her feet. At last, the thoughts spinning in her head halted and died down and she pulled open the door to the precinct a little harder than she should have.
"Liv?" Detective Elliot Stabler sat on the edge of his desk, watching as she dropped her hot dog into the trashcan beside the door. The guys had been discussing the latest sports, arguing over their favorite teams. Olivia glanced up at the team before sitting down at her desk, mashing the 'on' button on her computer with her thumb. She drummed her fingers against the wood and the computer warmed up. Somehow, she thought, the computer was slower than ever.
"Liv, you alright?" Elliot didn't move from his spot, but watched his partner carefully from afar. She visibly calmed down after he spoke up; she thought of herself as the rock of the team, and didn't like to be seen as agitated or scared.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just got into a pedestrian accident." She cracked a small smile and shrugged, turning back to her computer. She stared at it a moment before sighing and turning back around to face the guys. They quickly re-arranged their faces into expressions of nonchalant-ness, and went back to talking about sports, while Fin made a mental note to ask Olivia how the therapy was going.
But Fin didn't need to wait, an hour later Olivia cornered him in the break room, closing the door behind her. He continued to get his cup of coffee while she waited by the door.
"Yeah?" He turned around and leaned against the table, stirring the coffee to mix the milk in.
"I need you to look up something for me." Her hands clasped each other as she spoke and she didn't meet Fin's gaze, instead looked at the coffee in his hands. He offered it to her, raising an eye at her behavior.
"What do you need me to do?"
"See whether Harris is still in jail." With this, Olivia's composure broke and she finally let herself look worried. Fin furrowed his brows, looking at her carefully.
"Olivia, you know he's still in jail, he got eight years. The only way he could be out would be a spoon." She looked at him, and shook her head. He didn't seem to understand, but then, how could he? Fin, she thought, Fin wouldn't understand the feeling of terror she felt from seeing someone that may or may not have been her attacker. Only the victims she helped could understand her now.
"Fin, please...I thought..I saw him today. I know it seems impossible, but he was released, remember? Before Ashley identified the mark on his penis. Harris knows how to get around things.."
He sighed quietly, looking seriously at the woman he thought of as a baby sister. Whether or not they wanted to, the group had become family. And with the feeling of family came the urge to protect one another. It was both a help and a hindrance to the group, and unexpected. If they had ended up in a different job situation, Fin doubted that any of the people with whom he worked with would be together in the way they were. Perhaps it was the nature of their work. Fin shook his head of these thoughts for now, he'd mull them over at some bar later tonight after his shift was over.
"Aight Benson, you just chill in here and I'll go check." He pointed at a chair near her, and left the room.
Fin returned to the break room, quietly shutting the door behind him. Olivia was still sitting in the chair he had pointed to, staring blankly at the wall in front of her. She jumped slightly when Fin touched her on the shoulder, and sat down in the chair opposite her.
"Well?" She had her calm-and-in-control face back on, obviously her face had been worked on to keep it that way while he was at the computer. Fin leaned toward her, his elbow on the table.
"He got out on good behavior. At least, that's what it says. No doubt he's got ties on the inside, an' he used 'em well."
Olivia nodded and got up, heading for the door until Fin spoke again.
"Don't let this ruin your progress with the therapy, Olivia. That bastard knows who he shouldn't be messin with no more." He stood and walked the few strides to stand face to face with her, putting his hands lightly on her shoulders.
"You have really come far, I mean it." He cracked a smile, hoping to lighten her mood up a bit. He could see the clouds starting to cover her eyes as she began to worry hopelessly. "I'm proud of you. We're all proud of you." Olivia's eyebrows crashed down to meet her lids as he spoke and her lips spread thin across her face.
"He can't be out. Harris is a rapist...they're letting a rapist out on the streets. In New York! Women left and right. He can just pick and choose.." She trailed off, looking hard at Fin, who at this point, suspected something was going on. They both knew that there were more dangerous people out and about in New York than Harris, and those were the people they needed to really focus on catching along with the other scumbags.
"Look, the only time you should be thinkin about this guy is if he moves in across the hall from you in your apartment building. Other than that, there's the other 19 million you gotta worry about in this city. If you think about him, he wins." His face softened up a little, watching Olivia as she comprehended what she had heard. She was a passionate soul, and got a little ahead of things at times, which could make anyone a little flustered.
The pair walked out of the break room together, silent but knowing. They had become much closer with the whole experience, tightening the bond of the unit.
Elliot watched from his desk as they parted way to their separate destinations, and smiled at Olivia as she sat down.
"You comin any father with that case?" He questioned, looking pointedly down at a manila folder on her desk. She smiled back at him tossing in a little shrug.
"The body is still in the lab, the evidence is being processed, the witnesses have been questioned as well as the family and friends. It's a waiting game right now." She said it casually, but it was a hard case. They'd been working on it basically non-stop for a couple of days now, and it showed on both of their faces.
Elliot nodded, turning back to his own file on the case.
"What I don't get is, why would...."
A couple miles away, the woman Elliot and Olivia saved from her 12-story falling death sat down for a lonely dinner in her apartment. She hadn't been without someone with her for quite a while, she felt odd. She wondered absently, if this was how the woman detective felt when she went home at night. Winona had always been able to see the sadness in people. It was something in their eyes that didn't quite sparkle as much, didn't feel as alive. She had noticed it when they had sat down together as she calmed down. She made a silent vow with herself that she would try to connect with Detective Benson. Try to find a way to make her happy.
Not too terribly far from Winona's building, a man stood at a bus station, fishing around for change in his pockets. As the bus drove up, he found the right amount of change, and stepped on. He sat in between a male bodybuilder, and the tiniest old lady anyone had probably ever seen. He sat back and sighed, taking a newspaper from his coat pocket and opening it up to the housing section. There were a couple circled things, but one in particular he liked.
A couple minutes went by, the bodybuilder and old lady getting off together, more interesting characters getting on, as it always goes in NY. It was finally his stop, and he stepped off the bus, looking up at a building. He stood there for a minute, until ducking into the doors. He spotted the landlord and caught up to him.
"Hello, you must be Mr. Marino." He smiled and the man nodded.
"And you're Mr. Harris." Marino smiled a bit as well. "I've got all the paperwork for you in my office, follow me." Harris nodded, and the portly man slipped his card into the security swipe, the doors buzzing open. Harris glanced at the mail slots as they walked past him, smirking as he did.
In the middle of the top row, one sticker on the mail slot read clear, in big bold letter, O. Benson.
Aight, I'm off to the beach!
And again, another late night. I'm terribly sorry if it's not adequate. And use of over-used things.
There's also a surprising absence of Elliot in this...and everyone else, actually.