H and D 3

AN: You guys are so amazing and I am so thankful to have you all as fans and your support. Just… Thank you. Btw I hate Elliott Stabler, Cassidy, and almost every ADA SVU has had except Alex, Casey, and Abbie. So none of the people I hate will be in this story and if need, be replaced by my original characters.

I own nothing SVU, just my own plot and dumb ideas lol.

Chapter 3

The keys rattled in the old lock before they finally clicked the last tumbler and unlatched the door.

"I really need to remember to get a new lock," Alex reminded herself.

Alex smiled to herself thinking of how Olivia had assumed the blonde was this spoiled rich debutante socialite. But if the brunette saw the apartment Alex lived in, her jaw would break from dropping so far in shock. 'Maybe I will invite her over if that would happen. At least that way she couldn't talk back and piss me off for a while.'

After closing the door with a nudge of her hip, the blonde went to hang her satchel on the coat rack near the door, but she completely missed causing it to drop to the floor.

"Shit." The frustrated woman cursed.

She looked down at her well-used and patched pack. It had served her well since her father gave it to her as a graduation present for college. Alex balanced the boxed up peach cobbler Dorothy had packed for her, the keys to her apartment, and a stack mail that was a week's worth thick. The various letters had avalanched out of her bursting mail slot. The blonde awkwardly bent at her knees to retrieve the fallen bag, and she finally decided that karma must be punishing her for some odd reason, as the boxed dessert started slipping from her fingers. Deciding quickly, Alex sacrificed her grip on the mail letting the multitude of letters rain down upon the old wooden floor.

With an annoyed groan the tired writer rose up, left the mail and satchel on the floor, toed off her heels, and walked toward the kitchen to place the cobbler in the fridge. She reached for a half empty bottled water, twisted the cap and guzzled it all down before dropping it in the trash. With a wipe of her mouth with her sleeve Alex padded back to gather the scattered mail. After retrieving the bag and hanging it up, she started sorting the letters.

"Bill, bill, bill, coupon book, bill, Macy's catalogue, bill, junk mail, bi…" Alex cut herself off as she listed the various assortment of letters. Her eyes focused on a letter without a return address.

'Was this in with the other mail in my box?' Alex tried to recall. 'No, it couldn't have been. You need the keys to get into any of the mail boxes and only I, the super, and the mailman, have a copy of my particular key. It has no return address or stamp, so it couldn't have been mailed. That means someone slipped it under my door. God, if its Jim again with another love poem I am going to shove it down his fucking throat. He should know by now that I have no interest in him.'

Alex furrowed her brow when she realized that her name was not written in Jim's usual chicken scratch handwriting, but in block letters. The journalist inside her screamed for her to open it and find out what was inside. A sometimes fatal fault of all reporters was that they all have an over abundant curiosity that never seemed to be satisfied until the mystery is solved. Alex's gut was telling her something was not right about this strange letter, and turning it over only made it scream louder. Even the journalist side of her was silenced in shock at the sentence written on the back.

'I am the Who, when you call who's there…'

A cold shiver ran up her spine. She had not been home for days. That was a hazard of the career she had chosen. It meant she often found herself passed out uncomfortably at her desk at the Sentinel, or running down the newest lead. Her apartment was a place for her to keep her stuff, but she barely spent much time there. Alex had no idea how long ago this letter made its arrival to her home.

Alex walked over to her sofa and sat the rest of the mail on the cluttered coffee table. She couldn't keep her eyes off the unsettling letter. The young woman made herself jump when she knocked over a stack of books off the side table while reaching to turn on the lamp. She was shaking badly. Alex hadn't had this feeling of dread in her stomach since opening the door that awful morning to find a cop on her front step to shatter her world with the news of her father's death.

Clicking the lamp on illuminated the paling skin of the blonde, and an eerie shadow seemed to fall across the letter out of nowhere. Almost like light itself refused to come near it. Alex continued to stare at the horrifying statement on the back of the envelope in her right hand while her left journeyed to her teeth. A nervous habit she had since childhood, Alex would chew her cuticles. It was her tell when she was nervous.

The temptation was just too much. Alex opened the letter and slide a plain piece of college ruled paper covered in the same block hand writing on the envelope, and also another smaller envelope out as well. The journalist knew that trying to compare the handwriting to would be useless. Each letter was written in almost straight lines and right angles. Most likely with the help of a ruler. Taking a steadying breath Alex started to read the mysterious letter.

'DEAR ALEXANDRA CABOT,

AFTER MUCH THOUGHT ON THE SUBJECT. I HAVE CHOSEN TO BESTOW UPON YOU, THE HONOR OF BEING THE SOLE JOURNALIST TO WRITE MY STORY FOR THE WORLD TO SEE. FOR YOU TO RECORD IT FOR FUTURE GENERATIONS TO LEARN FROM, AND HOPEFULLY, ENJOY. YOU ARE THE ONLY ONE I TRUST NOT TO EXAGGERATE OR UNDERSCORE ANY OF MY WORKINGS. YOU TELL THE WHOLE STORY IN EACH ONE OF YOUR ARTICLES, AND YOU DO NOT SELF RIGHTEOUSLY OR SELFISHLY STROKE YOUR EGO BY FORCING YOUR OPINOINS AND JUDGEMENT ON THE READERS TO ACCEPT THEM AS FACT. YOU TREAT THE SUBJECT OF SAID ARTICLE AND ITS AUDIENCE WITH RESPECT, EVEN IF YOU ARE DISGUSTED BY THEIR ACTIONS OR DISAGREE WITH THEIR BELIEFS.

SO I AM OFFERING YOU A CONTRACT. I WANT TO SHARE MY WORK WITH THE PEOPLE OF THE WORLD AND I WANT YOU AND ONLY YOU TO DELIVER IT. THE SENTINEL WILL BE REQUIRED TO PRINT MY CORRESPONDENCES I SEND TO YOU, IN FULL AND WITHOUT ANY CORRECTION. YOU WILL THEN WRITE THE STORY OF WHAT I HAVE DONE, AS WELL AS OTHERS ACTIONS, REACTIONS, AND ANYTHING ELSE ABOUT MY WORK I HAD NOT INCLUDED IN MY LETTERS. IF ANY ANOTHER PUBLICATION OR NEWS SOURCE REPORTS MY WORK, I WILL ESCALAT TO SHOW THEM THE SERIOUSNESS OF MY WISHES TO BE FOLLOWED EXACTLY HOW I WANT. TO SHOW YOU THAT I AM NOT JUST BRAVADO ALEXANDRA, OPEN THE ACCOMPANING ENVELOPE. IF YOU ACCEPT MY GENEROUS OFFER, YOU WILL MARK YOUR APARTMENT WINDOW WITH A RED QUESTION MARK, IF YOU DO NOT ACCEPT AN X WILL SUFFICE. I THINK THE NEW CANDY APPLE LIPSTICK YOU PURCHASED AT 'THE CORNER MARKET' WOULD BE PERFECT TO USE IN THIS SITUATION. YOU HAVE UNTIL TUESDAY MORNING TO DECIDE.

YOUR NUMBER ONE FAN,

?

P.S. DO NOT KEEP ME WAITING.'

Alex realized that she had missed the deadline that was set in the letter from this still unidentified person. It was technically now early Friday morning since midnight passed hours ago. Second, the letter was vague of what this anonymous person was referring to when they referenced it as 'their work.' The blonde hated to assume what it could be. Like a good investigator you never make accusations or conclusions without all the evidence. And just because the letter came off as threatening and that a psycho may have wrote it, it could just be an attempt at gaining attention. Albeit in a horrible creepy way.

But Alex could not help but feel that whomever this was, they meant something sinister. This notion was confirmed after she opened the second smaller envelope labeled 'A Gift'. Inside this one was a Polaroid. Only the white back was visible when first opening the tab. The young woman was shaking. She probably should call the police but what if it was just a photo of a piece of artwork that an eccentric artist was sharing with her and this was his way of garnering interest. But this seemed more then some disturbed starving artist begging for attention who was frustrated by rejection. It was threatening. Without further delay Alex Cabot flipped over the photo and screamed.

"No Ryan, I won't calm down!" Alex shouted running her hand through her hair.

Ever since the blonde called the detective she had been gnawing her fingernails off while pacing back and forth. All the lights had been turned on in her apartment and she had shoved a chair under the knob of her locked front door. She checked each window to make sure it was shut tight, closed the curtains and thanked god she lived on an upper floor.

It didn't take too long for Detective Ryan Jordan to arrive, and after letting him in the terrified blonde shoved the chair back barricading the front door. Usually he was followed by his partner, or as Alex called her, his shadow. Amanda Rollins was a young southern cop that had only recently moved up from Georgia and she was partnered up with the seasoned detective. Alex nicknamed them the Siamese twins, but hence the late hour, Ryan came alone. Normally Alex would have called 911, and not a homicide detective, but after interviewing him on a number of murder cases she developed a respect for the former army ranger. And though law enforcement as a profession are extremely distrusting of the media, Ryan knew he could trust Alex with the truth of an investigation while not putting it in jeopardy. He knew she would never break that trust. Especially since he was helping her try to solve her father's unsolved murder.

"Alex look, there is nothing in this letter other than the escalating comment that can be deemed as threatening." Ryan yawned as he finished rereading the message while trying to stay awake, sitting on the blonde's couch.

"What about the lipstick comment and knowing where I bought it?" Alex pointed out.

"Maybe they just happened to have be at the same store there when you were," He theorized. "It doesn't mean you are being stalked or something."

The annoyed blonde rolled her eyes at the cop's flippant attitude toward this whole situation.

"And the picture?!" Alex pointed to the Polaroid on the coffee table. "He called it 'A Gift.'

"Well technically, we don't know if this person is a he." The detective corrected. "Just saying, it could be a she or a he. And second this could just be a picture of a random dead body, not necessarily did they murder this person."

"Whatever! He, she, them, it, what the fuck does it matter?! This… person did this," Alex growled at the infuriating detective as she threw the photo at him.

"Ryan, that's Nobu Kobayashi! Our number one suspect in my father's death!" Alex yelled at Ryan, as she tried to convey the importance of the revelation in this photograph. "I may never know now that Kobayashi killed my father. I wanted a confession."

"Alex, we can't be sure that this is him. I mean, the body in this photo is severely beaten and he looks more like hamburger meat then human. And who's to say Nobu would have confessed anyway? He is just a person of interest. Not officially a suspect to your dad's murder." Ryan takes the photo that was thrown at him and sets it back on the table.

"It's him, I know it's him. Why else would it be labeled 'A Gift', or then also ask me to be his personal scribe to his work. It's like he thinks that by killing Nobu was some type of favor to me, and now I owe it to him to accept this offer." Alex explained.

"You didn't agree do it, did you?" The detective asked.

"Of course I didn't." Alex rolled her eyes as she started to regret calling the detective over.

"Alex, all I can do is look into any John Doe's that might match the man in this photo at the morgue and check to see if any finger prints or saliva might be on the letters, note and picture. Nobu hasn't been seen since he left court mandated rehab over six months ago. But I will contact his relatives and known associates later today, alright?" Ryan stood taking the evidence with him as he walked to the barricaded door. He slipped the chair free and opened it.

"Fine, thanks for coming over," Alex took a breath and tried to trust he would find something in his inquiries.

"Anytime. Are you sure you don't want me to stay over for the night?" Ryan asked.

"Ryan," Alex sighed as she assumed his meaning. "I don't think…"

"Hey, I just meant I could take the couch and give you peace of mind that you are safe. I'm sure it's just someone trying to get attention." Ryan tried to reassure her with a soft smile. "I will head to the precinct and if anything else shows up, or someone calls, or something happens that seems suspicious, call me or Amanda. You'll be fine, I promise."

"I will. Good night Ry," Alex promised, but immediately regretted using a shortened version of his name. The blonde didn't want to send a mixed signal.

The tall muscular detective bent forward almost kissing her in farewell, but stopped himself when the blonde pulled away.

"Night Lex." Ryan tried to not show his hurt at the brush off.

Alex blushed from Ryan using the nickname he had chosen for her and the almost kiss to her lips. It helped put her at ease that a former soldier still cared enough to try and physically comfort her, but felt relief he didn't push for more. She almost took up his offer to stay for the night, but didn't want him to confuse the need to feel safe into something more. He seemed to be offering more than just protection when he asked to stay over. And neither needed the awkwardness at unrequited love between them. She watched him turn the corner in the hallway before she closed and locked door.

The Sentinel bullpen was slowly filling up with its skeleton crew staff as the sunrise streamed through the bay windows. The life blood of the paper was percolating in the break room while conversations between the half asleep employees consisted of grunts and groans. The living dead writers shuffled toward the urn filled with French roast. Slowly but surely the caffeine did its job and the Sentinel came to life. Except for one weary blonde. Alex sat at her desk with head in her hands, her hair was in tangles and her eyes were bloodshot.

"Wow Alex, you look like shit." A familiar voice beside her joked.

The quick witted journalist would usually fire back with a smart quip or a playful jab toward the young mailroom worker. But after everything that happened last night dragged into early in the morning, she was in no mood for playful banter. Not to mention the squeaking wheel on the mail cart was giving her a migraine.

"Word of advice Ken, make sure you know the temperament of the person you make a joke about. Otherwise you come off as an asshole like Michael Richards." Alex spoke through gritted teeth.

She really did like the kid. Hell, she was the one who got him the job as a favor to Fin. But he caught her on a very bad day.

"Woah, um sorry Alex I didn't mean anything by it." The young man apologized. "Are you okay?"

"No Ken, I'm not. And it's me that should apologize. Sorry for biting your head off. I just had a rough 12 hours." Alex explained.

"Want to talk about it?" Ken asked putting his hand on her shoulder.

Alex rose her head and smiled at the sweet boy. His skin was like his father's. It was light brown but unlike his dad, his hands and demeanor were soft. She had never seen Ken not perfectly groomed. The blonde always joked the boy was her little metro sexual milk chocolate treat when he came by everyday with the mail.

"Thank you for the offer Ken, but this is kinda personal. How about later today I take you out for lunch, my treat and you can tell me how night school is going." Alex offered.

"I will have to check my schedule, but I am sure I can find time for a pretty girl like you." Ken smirked.

"Charmer," Alex winked back.

"I better get back to work before The Judge puts me in contempt." The boy reached into the cart pulling out Alex's mail. "I think you finally got the transcript from the Maclin hearing. You know that there's a thing called email, right?"

"You know that thing called email is slowly taking your job away from you, right?" Alex countered.

"It can have it, cause when I get my GED I am finding a real job." Ken started to roll the cart away.

"After you get your GED you are going to college Ken. Remember I nominated you for the Cabot scholarship!" Alex called out to him.

"Can't hear you!" The young man sang mockingly back.

Alex shook her head for a moment before her migraine shrieked at her to stop. The blonde reached for the parcel containing the transcript. She lifted it and started to undue the clasp but noticing a letter underneath it. The blood drained from her face and her stomach dropped to her feet. Written across the front was her name in block lettering.

'Oh god no…'

She knew she should call Ryan before opening the envelope, but as she reached for the phone at her desk, Alex paused. Going against her better judgment and her curiosity winning out, the anxious blonde ripped open the seal. Numerous thoughts formed in her head of what was inside the letter. Before she chickened out Alex pulled out two items. One was a 3X5 index card, and the other was a picture of a beautiful woman.

Alex sighed in relief as the woman in the picture was alive and smiling. Her gaze was to the left of the camera lens. She looked like a business woman and was dressed in a black pant suit while holding an attaché case. The part of the picture that unnerved the journalist was it looked like blurry branches were framing the woman the camera was focused on. That most likely meant this woman was unaware of having her picture being taken, because it was taken at a distance and that her photographer was maybe hiding being some sort of foliage.

The index card only had three sentences written on it. And it was the last sentence that made Alex Cabot become sick and heave into her trash can.

'Ignore me once… Shame on me,

Ignore me twice… Shame on you,

Ignore me again… Shame on her.'

Elizabeth Donnelly tapped her fingers on her desk as she looked over the picture of the mysterious woman in the photograph. Like the frazzled reporter who was sitting in front of her, Liz was clueless at the identity of the auburn haired woman. When Alex first stormed into her office and slammed the door shut, the older blonde had thought it was time for round two of their fight. But instead of anger there was just fear in the young woman's eyes. Alex was pale and shaking like a leaf. She handed her editor a strange envelope, and without a word sat quietly looking like she was about to be sick. Liz quickly called her assistant to bring in a carbonated drink for the disturbed journalist.

Seconds seemed to inch by as Elizabeth lifted the index card to contemplate its meaning. Alex's slender fingers rubbed at her temples, as she tried to soothe the worsening migraine. On the desk sat a barely touched bottle of soda water in case she needed something to settle her stomach.

"Judging from the statement in this message, this isn't the first correspondence from this individual you have received?" Liz looked up from the card.

Alex shook her head.

"No. Last night when I got home I found one in my mail, well I thought it was in my mail, but it could have been slipped under the door."

"So you got what I will assume was the second letter last night?" Liz inquired.

"Second? No, it was the first." Alex corrected.

"Okay, but this basically states you ignored whomever this is, twice." The older woman pointed to the card.

"I only got the letter last night, this was the second." The younger blonde explained. "Maybe it was just warning me that if I ignored their NEXT correspondence this women could get hurt."

"Maybe. What did the first letter say?" Liz asked.

"Basically that I was chosen as their personal journalist to record their work for future generations. It was vague and bizarre and I was supposed to make a mark on my window if, I accepted or refused the offer." Alex recalled.

Alex almost revealed the existence of photo that was included in the first envelope, but she decided to keep that secret for now. The younger blonde did not want to bring up the tender subject of her father for a second time this soon after their fight last night. Especially since the photo possibly showed the butchered body of the man that might have killed her father. The offer to write about this person's 'work' is one thing, Alex wasn't threatened in either letter. But the connection of Johnathan Cabot's murder would definitely push Elizabeth Donnelly into protective mode. If the older woman found out about that picture, she would not just take the young blonde off the article, but lock her away until this psycho was caught. Elizabeth might not be her mother and even if Liz was furious with her, Alex knew that the woman loved her just as much as she loved Johnathan.

"So you had a deadline of one night? The tone to me suggests you ignored him more than just a few hours. Maybe he tried to contact you before and you just didn't get it? Do you have the first letter with you?" Liz once again picked up the letter to study it, her journalistic nature returning to her.

"No, I called Ryan right after I opened it and he took it to the precinct to see if he can get anything from it." The blonde stood and walked around the office. "Also we don't know definitively if this is even a he."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes at the correction from the younger woman at assuming the author of the letters was a he.

"You called your boyfriend over?" The former reporter looked at the picture again.

"He's not my boyfriend!" Alex shouted in annoyance. "I just called him because Ryan is a cop. And I needed someone to come over to help me."

"You could have called 911." Liz stated.

"Liz, I am not in the mood for your usual teasing of my huge mistake of sleeping with him." Alex growled.

"I never slept with a source." Elizabeth admitted. "And when that source was Ryan Jordan, you deserve the mocking."

'Yeah, you just slept with your partner, my dad.' The young woman said to herself.

"Look, I don't even know when the first letter even came. I haven't been at home all week. I have spent the last few days living in the bullpen working on this fucking article." Alex tried to get back on topic.

"Okay, so possibly this guy," Liz corrected herself before Alex could. "I mean this individual, sent you the letter earlier in the week and expected an answer by now. Maybe after a few days he got discouraged and tried again to get your attention?"

"I can't recall anything other than these two letters." Alex thought back.

"Well how about you follow your footsteps the last few days or places you usually visit to see if maybe you missed something." Liz advised.

"Yeah, that's a good idea." The blonde agreed.

"Just be careful Alex, please. I don't need to lose you as well." Elizabeth looked up her eyes fearful. She already lost Johnathan, and she'll be damned to lose his daughter too.

Before Alex could reassure her a knock on the office door begged for entry and the visage of the newest hire was visible through the window.

"Come in." The editor answered.

"Hey, sorry I am late. Jet lag and a late night don't allow for early rising." Olivia apologized as she entered the office.

"Understandable, but don't make a habit out of it." Liz warned.

"I won't Miss Donnelly." The brunette promised.

"Good, but call me Elizabeth or better yet Liz please." The older woman asked.

Olivia nodded before turning and greeting the other woman in the room.

"Jesus Alex, you look worse than I do." Olivia pointed out.

Alex narrowed her blue eyes at the empathetic brown ones of the woman beside her.

"Did the burger make you sick or something?" Olivia wondered. "You look like you spent the night with a porcelain rim."

"No. I'm fine." the younger blonde snapped at Olivia.

"Hey, I am just trying to be nice and make sure you're okay." Olivia avoided any further inquiry as she could sense the 'fuck off' vibes sent her way by the blonde.

Olivia sat in the chair Alex had just earlier inhabited and looked toward her knew boss. She saw a few papers spread around Elizabeth's desk but noticed that the editor's attention was focused toward two small items. A 3X5 index card, and a photo.

"Do those have to do with Alex's article?" Olivia pointed toward the two objects.

"No!" Alex quickly took both items back from Liz and stuffed them back in the envelope. She slipped it into her satchel and hide it away.

Elizabeth rose a brow in wonder at her young journalist's suspicious behavior. She was about to ask why Alex was hiding this information from others since she willingly shared it with a police detective and herself. But before she could speak, Alex looked at her pleading with her eyes to please keep this between them for now.

The paranoid nature of a journalist isn't surprising. It's a profession that thrived on scooping stories before anyone else. So hopefully Olivia would just assume that it was usual behavior of a reporter hiding sources or something in that vein. Alex didn't trust Olivia. She also didn't suspect that it was her behind the letters, although it was a weird coincidence that they arrived the same time as Olivia did. But she could definitely see the hot shot star reporter thinking this was a juicy story, write an article about it, and possibly anger this individual more than they already were in doing so. It did say they only wanted Alex to write about it and if another did, could this woman in the photograph be hurt in retaliation?

Olivia was suspicious of course, but right now she had her own problems to worry about, like not getting fired from the only job available to her. Don't rock the boat came to her mind, at least not yet.

"So, um where are we on this mysterious article?" Olivia decided to get to the point of the meeting and realizing she knew nothing of Alex's story.

"Well I have decided that Alex is dropping the article to you Olivia," Liz told.

"WHAT?!" Alex screamed. "I thought it was my choice? And I am keeping my damn story. It's mine."

"Right now I think you have other things to focus on." Liz gave her reporter a look.

"How about we calm down before things get out of hand like last night?" Olivia tried to be negotiate peace once again.

Knowing that the stubborn young blonde will never give up her article, Liz decided that if the two women were somehow able to work together, then Alex could also keep an eye out just in case this person behind the letters was capable of doing more than just getting attention.

"Alexandra, I will only agree for you to be involved in this article, IF you work with Olivia. Is that clear?" Elizabeth explained.

"Fine," Alex sighed. "If it's the only way to keep my story I will work with her."

Honestly, she was a bit relived to have some help. She would never admit it out loud, but this whole letter thing unnerved her and something deep inside her told her that it would require most of her attention. She didn't want the guilt of this woman's life on her shoulders if something happened to her.

"Well Olivia, you got your first story with the Sentinel. And both of you got a new partner." Liz smirked knowing that this partnership had only two possible outcomes. They would be the next Woodward and Bernstein, or kill one another. Either way, it will sell some papers.

AN: I hope you got at least SOME chills with this chapter. I really am nervous I can't right suspense and tension. Thank you all for your reviews and support.