Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine. They still belong to Dick Wolf and his NBC boyfriends. I don't say girlfriends, because Elliot has his shirt on too much for there to be women (gay or straight) involved.

Oh my Gosh, I have the Footloose song in my head. Make it go away!

This is a short chapter. I apologise, but we'll have to learn to deal. I'm up to chapter six and am totally hating this story right now. I don't know why, you all seem to be enjoying it, but I just…meh. I feel like this is the sort of story where I'm going to need a lot of leeway on your behalf. If you guys watched Avatar on Tuesday (I didn't, I'm in Australia! Boo! But I got the gist…it sucked) you'll understand what I mean. The crime in the beginning of the episode occurred solely so they could stumble across a kidnapped person. That randomness? Yeah, I feel that with this story, so if it does happen, ignore it! Enjoy the E/O'ness. If it does get too far-fetched, let me know ok? I'll try and make it work.

Plus I love all your speculation. But you'll find out who it is at the end of this chapter…or will you?

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Office of the Medical Examiner

One Police Plaza, Manhattan

Tuesday, February 13

8:58am

"Elliot," Olivia chided weakly as he pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, "Melinda will walk in any minute."

Elliot turned around to the closed door, "I don't see her."

Olivia laughed, "Elliot, we're working. If this got back to Cragen, he'd kill us."

Elliot sighed, patting her backside as he moved away, "this isn't over."

Olivia snorted, but didn't dignify the comment with a response as Melinda swept through door, face flushed and breathless as she headed straight for her desk, "sorry I'm late. Had to drop my daughter off at school, my husband's on business in Detroit."

Olivia smiled, "that's ok, normally it's us apologising anyway," she shot Elliot a relieved look.

Elliot smirked, leaning back against the closed door, scratching his nose to detract from his impulse to start laughing.

Melinda took a deep breath before turning back to them, "I had the blue fibres I found in the Judge's wounds analysed," she handed a file over to Olivia, "they're consistent with Capra Hircus Bovidae."

Elliot raised his eyebrows, "come again?"

Melinda smirked, "Cashmere. A very expensive navy coat judging by how fine the fibre actually was."

Olivia nodded, "I'm sure he wasn't killed by a goat," she smirked, as Elliot snorted, "how did he die?"

Smiling, Melinda turned some of the pages in the file Olivia was holding, "Well there were two wounds, not including the removal of his penis. The first one I'm guessing, was the wound on his right shoulder-blade. But it's odd because the depth of the cut suggests it was tentative at best. The second jab with the knife is what caused the excessive blood loss and subsequent exsanguination. The pen-knife pierced his aorta; he bled to death I'd say within five minutes."

Elliot cleared his throat, "and his Johnson? Ante or post mortem?"

Melinda pulled her hair back into a ponytail, "the wound hadn't started to congeal, but the amount of blood present would imply it was cut off close to death. He was still alive, but completely incapacitated by the wound to his chest."

Olivia shook her head, "Anything else?"

Melinda nodded, "I ran a tox-screen. It came back negative, except for the alcohol level which wasn't over the limit, but was still considerably high; 0.04."

"So he had an after-work drink?" Olivia suggested, looking over at Elliot who shrugged.

Melinda picked up some autopsy photos from her desk, "see that line there?"

Olivia nodded, it was the same angry red line that they'd noticed running down the side of the Judge's lifeless face.

"Well I swabbed the wound and found traces of acrylic and red polish in it," Melinda replied, raising an eyebrow.

"A woman?" Olivia offered, slightly surprised.

Melinda shrugged, "Well I can't be sure. But acrylic nails are more what you'd associate with females."

"Or those that pretend to be females," Elliot said, smirking slightly.

Olivia shook her head slightly, "I think the guard at the front would have noticed a pro entering the courthouse."

Elliot put his hands on his hips, pacing across the back wall, "well, the security guard did say you could only open that door from the inside."

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Medical Laboratories

Manhattan

Tuesday, February 13

9:11am

"Stop it."

Fin rolled his eyes as Munch ignored him and continued to mutter under his breath about the audacity of the Federal agents who seemed to be infiltrating every inch of the police structure. Munch was in fact exaggerating; the only presence they had seen was the sole Agent that was training alongside some of the NYPD's finest lab technicians. Fin leant back, folding his arms as they waited for the Agent to finish his work with O'Halloran before they could get the results they were after.

"We have an open homicide and they're putting us at the back of the queue?" Munch said exasperatedly, adjusting his glasses which were fogging at his indignation.

"Give it a rest, John, we've only been here five minutes," Fin said loftily, watching two detectives he recognised from Brooklyn narcotics pass down the corridor.

"Five minutes and thirty-three seconds, thirty-four, thirty-five…" He trailed off, leaning his head back against the wall.

Fin shook his head, letting out a relieved puff of air as O'Halloran said goodbye to the agent he'd been working with, and gestured for them to come into his office.

"Finally," Munch said, as he closed the office door behind him.

"Sorry Detectives," O'Halloran said, "but the Feds are so overcrowded that they're shifting some of the weight into the labs in major cities. Lucky us," he said sardonically, rifling through the files that were piled neatly on the edge of his desk.

"You ran the prints?" Fin asked, eager to change the subject before Munch's head spun off his shoulders.

O'Halloran nodded, not looking up from the file he picked out, "interesting collection of prints; which is odd, because normally on a public door, you find hundreds."

"The clerk said it could only be opened from the inside, so it's not like it was a major thoroughfare," Munch supplied, sitting on the edge of O'Halloran's desk.

O'Halloran titled his head, considering the possibility, "we're lucky, because those that work for the courthouse in any capacity are in the system. We found seven sets of fingerprints."

Munch's eyebrows rose at the small number O'Halloran offered, "Only seven?"

O'Halloran nodded, "Well the head of security at the Courthouse informed me that they only recently installed the fire door after they were forced to. Apparently, they felt the front entrance and exit on the opposite side of the building had been enough in case there was a fire," he paused smirking, "So a month ago they had the door placed at the back of the building to comply with the guidelines that had been set. I think the lack of volume in prints is also to do with the fact that the door is pretty secluded and leads out to a deserted alleyway. I would say most people use the front entrance."

"So whose prints did you find?" Munch asked, jotting down the information O'Halloran had uncovered.

O'Halloran looked back at the file, "One belongs to a janitor who wasn't working that night and another four belong to various Judges. According to the paperwork your Captain sent over this morning, two weren't working and two had an alibi."

Fin nodded, "and what about the last two sets?"

O'Halloran handed Fin the folder, "One was unidentified and the other belonged to the Judge's court clerk."

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16th Precinct, Manhattan

SVU Interrogation Room

Tuesday, February 13

9:40am

"You want a water? Soda? Lawyer?"

Craig's head snapped up at that option. He had been sitting silently with wide eyes as Munch and Fin left him to stew before they interviewed him. His blonde hair fell into his eyes as his face remained down-turned; focusing hard on his hands that sat upon the tabletop. His left leg was bouncing up and down, its speed increasing as Munch and Fin entered the room.

His blue eyes were now focused on Munch, who was sitting across from him, "why would I need a lawyer?"

Munch shared a quick look with Fin who was standing behind Craig's right shoulder, "why don't you tell us?"

Craig resumed picking his cuticle with his nails, shrugging, "I don't know. I was at work one second, and hauled here the next."

"I wouldn't say you were hauled," Fin said, smirking at Munch's raised eyebrow, "ok, maybe forcibly yanked."

Craig looked up, but over Munch's shoulder, "when can I go?"

Munch sat back in his chair, "you can leave as soon as you help us make some sense of this," he pushed the lab report across the table and under Craig's nose.

After a beat, Craig looked down; his brow furrowed, "what is this?"

Munch shrugged, "your fingerprints. On the door to the alleyway where the Judge's severed penis was found. Care to explain?"

Craig's shoulders relaxed a little, "I work at the Courthouse, and they could have gotten there anytime. I even touched it when that lady Detective was there yesterday."

Munch tried hard not to visibly deflate; as nervous as this guy was, he was right. The prints were circumstantial at best, they would need a confession. And the smug look on his face indicated that was not something that was going to happen soon. A tap on the one-way mirror broke his train of thought, Fin moved from behind Craig and into the adjoining room.

"Captain?" Fin asked, closing the door behind him.

Cragen scratched his chin, "Tell him that we have footage of him in the alley last night."

Fin frowned, "but there's no camera there."

Cragen smiled, "he doesn't have to know that."

"But he told me there were no cameras," Olivia interrupted, folding her arms.

Olivia furrowed her eyebrows as Fin watched Craig looking at his reflection in the mirror.

Olivia raised an eyebrow as Cragen watched her mind working, "unless of course you say that they were newly installed with the door on the opposite building."

Cragen smirked, turning back to Fin, "exactly."

Fin nodded, heading back into the room.

Craig looked at him as he sat down next to Munch, "Now, Craig," Fin began, "you say that your prints could have been transferred onto the door anytime?"

Craig's leg began to bounce again as he nodded slowly, "well we were just informed by the head of security at the Courthouse that tapes have been pulled from outside the building where the Judge's package was found. Do you want me to tell you what they found?"

Craig shook his head, "you're lying! There aren't any cameras on that side of the building."

Fin leant forward, lowering his voice, "yes, there are. And let's just say that once we run the tapes through our computer lab, we'll be able to provide you with an A4 shot of your ugly mug."

Craig pushed his chair back, striding quickly towards the window, "now, if you don't tell us what really happened; you'll be charged with murder and you'll serve the max because it wasn't no ordinary person you killed," Craig shook his head vigorously, "you killed a Judge; and how do you think the Judge overseeing your trial will act? They can swear an oath all they want, but once one of their own is the victim, they'll inject you with the poison themselves."

Craig wrapped his arm around his sides, much like he had done when he'd found his bosses husband, "I swear I didn't do it."

"Can you prove it?" Munch asked, rolling his pen between his hands.

Craig stalked back to them, "I want to be a Judge when I finally get through Law School? Why would I murder my friend?"

Munch shrugged, "eliminate the competition?"

Craig's eyebrows almost rose into his hairline, "That's ridiculous!"

"Then help it make sense to us," Fin replied.

Craig let out a deep breath, "you can't tell her I said anything."

Fin titled his head, "Who's 'she'?"

Craig sat down again, "my girlfriend. She called me, hysterical, three nights ago and said that she needed to meet Judge Petrovsky for an assignment of hers that was due today. I asked her why she couldn't go through the front; and she said that the security guard had it in for her…" He trailed off, realising how lame her cover story sounded in the cold light of day.

Fin shifted slightly, "Petrovsky wasn't working that night. You would have known that."

Craig shook his head, "I'm not made privy to the schedules of other judge's. I just take care of the paperwork that is assigned to me."

"So, what happened?" Munch prodded.

Craig sighed, "I let her in just after seven, and said I'd meet her when I was done; which was about 8. But she had disappeared. I looked around for her, but she'd gone. So I stayed behind for a little bit more and left at around 10:30pm."

Munch nodded, "we're going to need the name of your girlfriend."

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1132, Lexington Ave

Manhattan

Tuesday, February 13

10:11am

"Yes?"

Olivia and Elliot had traipsed up four flights of stairs after the flustered superintendent had declared the lift broken. Not that they would have taken it anyway, the rust was bad and the door seemed to be falling off. The door to the apartment of Katie Davis was at least on it's hinges, but the surface was caked with dirt, the number '19' had an upside down '9' and a missing '1'; the only indication was that an outline of the numbers had been made from long-time grime exposure.

Elliot fingered the '9', moving it into the right position before letting it fall as he pounded his fist against the door, "Miss Davis, open up, NYPD!"

They waited patiently; listening for any indication there was some kind of life-form on the opposite side of the door. Olivia nodded to Elliot who pounded the it with his fist again.

This time, Olivia could hear shuffling on the other side of the door and the sound of the lock clicking open. Katie Davis' face appeared in the small gap, a confused look etched on her face.

"Yes?" She asked, looking between Elliot and Olivia.

Olivia held up her badge, "I'm Detective Benson, and this is my partner Detective Stabler. We're conducting an investigation into the homicide of Judge Nicholas Hall. Can we come in and ask some questions?"

The door opened all the way, Davis stepping into the hallway in front of Elliot and Olivia.

She held out both hands, "I did it. And I'm not sorry."