A/N: I DO NOT own any part of the Law & Order franchise, Moulin Rouge or the rights to the music of Coldplay.

Clues

Jodi stared at her reflection in the mirror, hair pulled back and slicked beneath a black velvet top hat. Pursing her lips, she quickly ran a finger over the soft skin and smoothed out her cherry-red lipstick, before standing up in the sequin encrusted unitard she wore and observing herself in the mirror.

Running her hands down her curved sides, and lifted a leg, adjusting one of her garter belts then dropped it to the ground with a smile. She looked an exact replica of Satine in Moulin Rouge, the stylish film that had captivated her since first seeing it as a child. And tonight, she would channel her inner courtesan and wow the crowd, just as she did each and every night.

With one last look-over, Jodi sighed and made her way across her dressing room, before opening the door. As she did so, she was met with a blast of cold air and darkness as she found herself facing a dark alleyway. Stepping out, her heels grazed the asphalt and she looked around, men lining the two walls that surrounded the long, dark, alley ahead.

As Jodi moved past them all, fear gripped her, stomach churning violently. She suddenly felt uneasy, unnerved, and above all, terrified. But she had to continue, she had a show to do, nothing was going to stop her.

So she stormed down the alley which had no sight in end, the applause becoming more and more faint until a microphone came into view. Approaching it, she grasped it in her hand tightly and opened her mouth, preparing to sing just as a voice came up behind her.

Without a word, hands slid around her neck, squeezing tightly and Jodi spun around only to find herself looking into the face of a man who had no face. He had no features, no skin, no eyes, nose, or mouth. Instead, a simple black shadow that obscured his non-existent features, however Jodi could hear the sound of his breath behind his mask, growing more and more pronounced with each passing second.

"Sing." He said, his voice a rasp that sent chills up her spine. Immediately, Jodi tried to tear away from him but his grip was iron-clad, holding her in her place.

"No." she whimpered. She did not want to sing from him, she did not want him to take her joy and turn it into a bartering tool.

"Sing!" he said again, pushing her back onto the ground. As he did so, a searing pain tore through Jodi's back and she screamed, watching as he stood and unzipped his pants, towering over her. When she tried to move, she found herself pinned down by some invisible force and knew, there was no escape. Even as her attacker got onto his knees, prying apart Jodi's suddenly-bare legs and grabbing himself, shoving into her harshly.

Jodi awoke with a loud scream, sitting up and looking around wildly as she found herself not in the dark alleyway with her rapist, but at home in her living room, sleeping on the couch comfortably. Drawing in breath in short spurts, she leaned back on her forearms, sighing before falling back onto the couch and throwing a hand over her forehead, closing her eyes.

Ever since the incident Jodi had found herself plagued by nightmares, each and every one where she looked into the unidentifiable face of her attacker, becoming more and more frustrated each time she awoke with panic flooding her chest and fear wracking her nerves. Had she done one thing differently, anything differently, perhaps he would be sitting in jail right now. Perhaps she would be able to look upon his face and know that he could no longer haunt her dreams, for he was locked away.

That was not the case however, and night after night, Jodi faced the faceless man and found herself waking in terror, trying desperately to hold herself together.

As she laid on the couch attempting to pull herself together, Detective Benson entered the room, muscles tense after hearing the small yet noticeable scream that came from the living room. Indeed, she was certain she would find Jodi safe and free of harm, however she to make sure, she took no precaution, darting in at the ready.

"Is everything alright in here?" she asked, causing Jodi to jump up from her spot in surprise, her heart beating even faster. It seemed that with her mind so occupied now, she jumped at just about every little thing, her connection with the real world shattered as her mind continued to flit back and forth to the attack. It was all that filled her thoughts, so much that she found herself unable to attend classes that morning, and wondered if she should even go back.

"You scared me." She said softly, then leaned down, taking her face in her hands for a moment before standing up, putting her hands on her back and stretching. Olivia's eyes never left her bedraggled form, red hair unkempt and unruly, and eyes sporting dark circles. This from the girl who once upon a time, never left the house looking anything short of perfect. And now, this was what Jodi was reduced to, a sloppy and uncaring mess.

"You okay? I heard you scream." Olivia asked once more, and Jodi rubbed her eyes with a nod, yanking down her shorts as they rode up, exposing her legs to the cold.

"Yeah, I just had a bad dream that's all." Jodi shrugged, attempting to avoid Olivia's gaze.

"A bad dream pertaining to your rape?"

Again, that word. That horrible, ugly word that bit at Jodi deeper each and every time. Each time she thought she was getting over what had happened, they came again with that word, and Jodi couldn't have been more upset by it.

Instead of answering, she simply swallowed, unable to find words to speak.

"Listen Jodi, you haven't talked to anyone about this. Maybe you should think about seeing a psychiatrist." Olivia said, and Jodi simply ignored her, plastering a Bree Van de Kamp worthy smile on her face and turning to face the beautiful detective, hands on her hips.

"Would you like breakfast? I haven't eaten yet." She said.

"Listen Jodi don't change the subject. This isn't going to go away-"

"Yes breakfast. I think old-fashion bacon and eggs will do, maybe some pancakes." She continued, spinning on her heel quickly and walking from the room so quickly that Olivia wondered if she was even human. With each step Jodi took, she distanced herself from the cop.

She didn't want to hear about psychiatry or victims services, because she could cope herself. In fact, she'd be able to get over this entire mess if everyone would just leave her alone and let her be. For the sole reason that her attacker had killed someone, Jodi of course had agreed to help, however she was certain that if it were possible for her to not press charges and let the entire thing go, Jodi would be fine by now. She was constantly being asked if she was alright, forever being poked and prodded, observed and reassured, and none of those things were what Jodi truly needed. She had lived with herself long enough to know how to deal with the good, bad, and the ugly, and the secret was getting on with life instead of harping on what had already happened.

With a sigh, Jodi entered the massive kitchen located in the right wing of her home, situated next to a beautiful dining room. Flipping on the switch, the bathed the modernized room in light and glanced around the gleaming countertops and appliances, relaxing just the slightest bit. As with many different kinds of art, Jodi found that cooking was something she thoroughly enjoyed, the way she mixed together different flavors, textures, and colors, making a splendid dish that could please the palate in a variety of ways. It was quite astonishing to her really, the sheer complexity of it all.

Say, how each thing had such a distinctive taste or feel, how molecules and matter came together to form the sights and smells that she would look down upon. It was a symphony of creation that produced at times the most unexpected and pleasing of outcomes.

Today, was going to be simplistic. A simple dish of eggs, turkey-bacon, and pancakes, however nothing Jodi Stanford ever did was truly simplistic. Each and every part of her life had to be bedazzled, modified in some way to compliment the intricacies of her personality and lifestyle.

Making her way to the island counter, Jodi grabbed a skillet from above and swung it around, loosening her wrist. Sliding it onto the stove, she set the dial then bounded across the room in bare feet for a bottle of oil.

After setting up and preparing her food, Jodi walked to the iPod dock she kept in the kitchen and turned on the musical device, the sounds of Coldplay immediately flooding the room in sound and transporting her into the beautifully stylistic world of Viva la Vida or Death and All His Friends.

Submersing herself in the musical wonder, Jodi went to work, bending over the stove and biting the inside of her cheek. Letting her bare feet sweep the floor, she pointed her toes, humming to herself and letting her body work into a silent dance routine while she remained stationary, thinking of just what she could do later.

The dance studio was not an original part of the house, in fact, the room had once been a recording studio for the previous owner, and convincing Caleb to allow her to remake and remodel it into what it now was had been a task. Despite the fact that her talent and love for dance was greatly known, Caleb was the only one to be outright and frank about her future.

"You're not dancing professionally, what's the point?" he had asked, and Jodi was forced to sit back and think over his words which were all too true. She wasn't dancing professionally, she wasn't even minoring in any sort of art, something that right in this very minute, she regretted deeply, however what did it matter now? Jodi could barely focus on one task, let alone her studies with all that was happening. Her attacker was still out there, and there was a dead girl on her.

She made enough money at the club to more than get by. At the end of the week when Caleb took his cut out of her paycheck, Jodi still made a substantial amount of cash, so much that she could even pay her own bills on the townhouse, and this was for a girl who kept every single light on.

It struck Jodi was somewhat funny, the fact that the only place she could keep it together was where she was attacked. What she really needed though, most of all, was simply someone she could talk to, someone who wouldn't continue treating her like a victim. Caleb pranced around her, stepping carefully as though Jodi was a ticking time bomb, and everyone else treated her with sickening concern, eyes full of pity that she did not want.

Never in Jodi's life had she felt so alone, and it was the one time when people made the most attention to her. She didn't want the fawning though, she simply wanted to be treated like she was any other day, she simply wanted someone to talk to who wouldn't ask if she was alright or talk to her like she might suffer a mental breakdown at any moment.

Spooning a mass of cheesy scrambled eggs onto a nearby plate, Jodi swallowed, shaking her head and once again, she willed herself not to cry. She had once, the previous night, and she would not again. She was not weak, and she could keep it together. After all, she had the last time.

Olivia walked down the long hallway, following the sounds of music before turning into Jodi's kitchen to find her standing at the sink, hunched over with her head down. Staring at the girl she sighed, turning around and retreating before Jodi could notice her presence.

As she did so, she found herself momentarily observing the girl in awe, for despite the vast differences between the two, Jodi reminded Olivia a little bit of herself at that age.

She was so complex, and so obviously hurting yet she refused to show it, clenching her jaw and putting on a brave face for the world to see just as Olivia had, yet she seemed so much older. It wasn't just her curvy body when young women were still growing, or even her face, absent of any fat and signs of incriminating youth. No, it was the way she carried herself, the way she spoke, with such an air of maturity and wisdom beyond her years that it surprised Olivia.

In essence though, she was truly worried. It was evident that Jodi was in some sort of denial, going so far as to refuse referring to her attack as a rape, and that was exactly what it was. It was a brutal attack against her very essence, taking away her dignity, and causing immense pain to the parts of her body that were supposed to give her joy. To call it anything but a savage rape, was simply incorrect, and Olivia could not believe the way Jodi brushed the word off, refusing to even acknowledge it in the face of investigation.

Beyond that, the detectives had talked to girls at the club, none of whom seemed particularly close to Jodi, and so far no one had yet to visit. It did not seem as though Jodi was confiding in anyone about this, not her friends, not family, and certainly not professional help which was what she really needed. She was so damn stubborn, and Olivia was unsure whether to admire her, or worry for her tremendously.

It was interesting, that the one person Jodi seemed to open up to was Munch, or so Olivia had heard. According to Elliot and Fin, Munch looked at her through awestruck eyes like a teenage boy, something that seemed to work for Jodi, bringing her out of her shell. If it worked though, Olivia personally just thought they should let it be. No matter how sickeningly he drooled after a girl (more than half his age), it wasn't as though anything would ever happen between the two, especially given Jodi's record of a wild girl.

Just as she entered the living room, Olivia's phone chimed in her pocket. Pulling the sleek Motorola RAZR from her pocket, she flipped it open then brought it to her ear.

"This is Benson." She said, crossing an arm over her chest and standing in the center of the room.

"Hey, it's me." Elliot said, and Olivia nodded, walking across the room to a large red couch, sitting down.

"Hey El what's up?" she asked.

"We found something on the body of our new vic."

"DNA?!" Olivia shot up, excitement running through her. A break in the case was just what they needed right now, right when things were looking bleak.

"No, Warner hasn't said anything yet, we're in the lab right now she wanted everyone to be there. I've got you on speaker, and the cap is here with Munch and Fin."

"Okay." Olivia spoke, immediately tensing up once more at the mention of the captain who she now knew was on the other end of the line. The scene quickly went from comfortable, to tense, and while Olivia enjoyed Donald Cragen, the intimidation that came from being beneath him still caught her, even after years of working under him.

"Hi Olivia, you still with us?" Melinda Warner asked and Olivia replied affirmatively, eager to hear anything that the expert medical examiner could offer her.

"Good. Well, the reason we couldn't find prints on our perp was because he wore gloves, that we already knew. Now latex gloves usually leave fingerprints from being handles, and leather leave traces. Now, I didn't find anything that might physically help us identify this guy, but the strangulation marks on our vic had residue imprinted in her flesh."

"What kind of residue?" Elliot asked.

"Standard car oil." Melinda answered, millions of thoughts rolling around Olivia's head. So this guy had oil on his hands, what did that mean? Did he work around cars? Automotive repair perhaps? Or could he be someone's driver responsible for keeping up maintenance? Or he could still be an everyday citizen that changed his own oil.

"That's not much for us to work with Melinda, you go anything else?" the captain asked, speaking the words that everyone else had been thinking.

"No, but I can tell you, he's getting messier. Less meticulous. It's the most subtle of differences but it's noticeable."

"None of this has hit the new yet, he probably thinks he's getting away with it, thinks he can skip steps. With Jodi Stanford the crime scene was spic-and-span clean, however with this…he left behind small traces. Nothing we could identify with, but traces nonetheless. He's getting messier with each attack."

"So if he attacks again, we may have DNA? Maybe he wants to get caught. You know, he's letting the thrill build up until maybe he does something like rapes without a condom. He attacked Jodi Stanford in a public place where anyone could have seen, and Holly Thomas the most recent victim was found next to a dumpster behind a café." Elliot mused.

"But then why go through all the trouble of wearing the gloves, the condom, and attacking each girl in surprise. Have we found a link between our victims yet?" Olivia furrowed her brow.

"They didn't know each other, but Thomas worked in a strip club. She was attacked outside the café she was working. Could be a coincidence." Fin offered.

"After how many years in this job I've learned there's no such thing as coincidence. Benson and Stabler, I'm sending you two out."

"What about me and Munch?" Fin asked.

"You're on babysitting duty." The captain commented, a snigger on his voice before handing up the phone. With that, the rest of the detectives followed suit, and Olivia hit the END button on her phone, sliding it into her pocket and standing up.

Because the threats against Jodi's life as well as the opportunity to catch the killer, young Ms. Stanford had been put under protection for the time being, and after the FBI continuously stated that it would be better to have "low-key" detectives blending in rather than agents, the duty fell on the detectives of the SVU, each charged with making sure nothing happened to Jodi Stanford. As Olivia continued down the hall, her phone vibrated and she looked down to find a text from Fin.

B there in 30.

Sliding her phone into her pocket once more, Jodi looked around the corner into the kitchen where Jodi mouthed to words to some rock song, spooning several fluffy brown pancakes onto a plate. Stepping into the kitchen, Olivia observed her, tapping her foot on the ground and shaking her head as she lip-sung quietly.

"Hey Jodi!" Olivia exclaimed, and her red head snapped up, green eyes wide with surprise. Acknowledging her presence, Jodi put up a finger then walked across the kitchen and turned down the music, returning to the island counter.

"What's up?" she breathed casually, brushing her forehead with the back of her hand then put her hand on her hip looking like a disgruntled housewife. As Olivia stared at her, she felt a bitter and childish pang of jealousy crawl through her. The girl was absolutely stunning, even now after only having woken up about 20 minutes ago. Free of makeup, free of styled hair in nothing more than casual clothing, she was gorgeous, green eyes shining beneath arched red eyebrows and thick dark lashes. Her bone structure was a work of art, with high cheekbones and a sharp jawline that brought attention to plump red lips. In essence, Jodi was everything women wanted to be, and she was that everything at only 18 years old, barely a woman.

Of course Olivia wasn't one to harp on such things. She knew how she looked, she was a strong and confident woman, but beneath every woman, that deep desire to be better than her counterparts rose up, if only once in a while, bringing about jealously like a tidal wave on a sea-foam green ocean.

"We might have gotten a decent lead, I'll be trading off the Detectives Tutuola and Munch in about a half hour, just thought you should know?"

"What kind of lead?" she asked, pursing her lips and setting the spatula down. Olivia noticed no significant changes in her tone, not even excitement, it just seemed that she was simply curious.

"Well we found something on the body of the victim, and we think if he attacks again he may slip up a little bit, that's all I can really give you right now, even if I could tell you everything. I'll be honest it's not much at all, but it's still better than nothing."

It's still better than nothing.

The words rang in her head over and over again, and Olivia wanted to punch herself for saying them. In truth, how was what Warner told them better than nothing? All she had confirmed was that they might catch him if he killed another girl, which still meant that every woman in Manhattan was in danger. No, it wasn't better than nothing. Olivia had just lied to herself, and lied right to Jodi's face, and she couldn't have been more frustrated by it.

"Huh. Well, have something to eat. I've got blueberry whole-wheat pancakes, turkey bacon, and scrambled egg whites with cheese. There's no real butter but I've got a substitute, Smart Balance, it tastes better than real butter. Come on, you take two pancakes or four?" Jodi asked nonchalantly as she grabbed a fork, and Olivia raised her eyebrows.

"Um, no thanks Jodi."

"You've been here since four this morning and you haven't had anything to eat."

Her voice was adamant, demanding, however it was the simple fact that she was offering Olivia such a huge meal that caught her off guard. What reason did she have for this kindness? It had been obvious that she held some disdain for the detectives (with the exception of Munch for some strange reason), and here she was, offering breakfast.

"Look, I really appreciate the offer but I'm not hungry."

Right as she spoke, Olivia's nose caught a waft of blueberries which floated into her nostrils captured her and sent her stomach growling loudly, right on cue. Trying not to chuckle at the way her body betrayed her, Olivia stepped into the kitchen. From the sound of it, Jodi's meal would be healthier than a doughnut, she would pick up on the way.

Sitting where Jodi directed her, Olivia crossed her legs and watched as the young redhead sat a plate front of her, loaded with eggs, bacon, and fluffy round pancakes that looked perfect. Safe to say, Olivia was impressed, and while she knew that it was near impossible to mess up said meal, it still had a touch that made her wonder if perhaps Jodi was skilled in cooking as well.

Jodi then placed a beautiful fork and knife in front of Olivia and filled a tumbler with orange juice.

"Dig in." she breathed, turning her back and Olivia did so, sectioning off a piece of pancake with her fork and knife, then bringing it to her mouth. The moment she did she closed her eyes, the fluffy cake melting in her mouth and blue sweetness bursting on her tongue. Indeed, Jodi had a gift in the kitchen, because these pancakes were like nothing she had ever tasted before.

"Wow these are amazing." Olivia commented, looking up as the redhead milled about, tossing things in the sink.

"Thanks." Jodi replied, then made her way to the side of the island opposite Olivia and sat down, grasping a magazine. Flipping open the thick issue of Vogue, Jodi studied a page carefully, seemingly unmindful of the guest sitting before her.

"You know, I used to envision myself as Anna Wintour." She suddenly said, and Olivia looked up.

"Excuse me?"

"Anna Wintour, editor of Vogue. When I was fourteen I had this obsession with her. She's just such a strong, powerful woman, and she does it all with such an air of…..I don't have a word for it. Just the way she carries herself, it's so incredible to me."

She spoke so casually, making conversation lightly as though it was nothing, as though nothing else in the world was happening, nothing like her rape or the murder that had occurred.

"Used to?" Olivia said through a mouthful of eggs, following her sudden conversation. At this, Jodi looked up momentarily and tilted her head in contemplation, gazing at Olivia intently through those green almond-shaped eyes.

"You grow up, and reality bites you in the ass. I'm not from money, I don't have the skills to head the biggest fashion magazine in the world, but you know, you can't always get what you want." She shrugged simply, and Olivia could not help but nod, for it was so true. It was good that she had learned that at such a young age.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang and Olivia stood up, wiping her hands on a napkin.

"That must be Munch." She explained, before thanking Jodi for the breakfast and heading out to see if there was anything he had to tell her. Olivia had left so abruptly in fact, that she didn't notice the way Jodie fluffed up her hair and straightened her clothes as Munch's voice rang down the long hallway.