A/N: Day Four

DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and the characters; TStabler© owns the story you're about to read.

It wasn't terrifying anymore, just frustrating. Slightly scary. Whoever had us didn't want us dead, he didn't want us to starve. He gave us everything he thought we needed, except fresh air and exercise. Well, we got plenty of exercise, on our own. We couldn't leave that white box, though. All we had to hope for was the possibility of him getting bored with us, or someone finding out where we were. It didn't look like either was happening any time soon.

HERE

He rolls his head to his left, he moans and his closed eyes twitch. He bucks his hips involuntarily, instinctively, and he feels something hot, wet, and soft envelop his shaft. He isn't even aware of how hard he is, and he smirks, moaning again. He blinks his eyes open, the darkness surrounding him. "Liv, that better fucking be you."

She hums an affirmative sound, with him still in her mouth, and she hears him grunt in response. She feels his hands slip through her hair, and he tugs lightly as her head bobs. She moans as she sucks him, making him throb.

He chokes on his breath as he guides her head up and down, thrusting his hips lightly, enabling her to take more of him. All of him. "Shit," he groans. "God, I wish I could see you right now."

And like magic, the lights come on, brightness surrounds them suddenly, but they're used to it by now. The sudden change in light doesn't faze them much, and they're staring intently into each other's eyes instead of squinting at the bulbs.

He watches her mouth wrap over his thick length, and he bites his lip to keep from saying something vulgar. "Fuck," he hisses, gazing down the bed at her, nestled between his legs.

She's staring back at him with a gleam in her eyes, a smirk on her face. She slips her mouth almost all the way off of him, sucks lightly on just the head of him, then slips down over him again.

"Oh, Jesus, baby," he seethes, pulling harder on her hair. He spits out another "Fuck," and he rolls his eyes and moans again.

She hums as she sucks. It's more than he can take, she knows it. She's just waiting for him to lose it, get rough with her, take her away from the Hell they're locked in and make her forget about it. She groans something low and deep, and the vibrations course through him, even she can feel it.

"Holy shit," he gasps as his eyes close. He pulls her hair again, harder, and lets one hand drop to the side of her face, he thrusts into and out of her mouth faster and deeper, and whispers her name. "Liv, fuck, yes, baby. God, Liv."

She feels him stiffen even more, she knows he's close. She narrows her eyes and slips off of him just long enough to whisper, "Let go." She swallows him again, and closes her eyes as he fills her mouth.

His grunts are unintelligible as he bucks into her eager mouth. He's gripping her hair so tightly he's afraid if she moves he'll rip a chunk out, but he can't help it, she drives him mad. He closes his eyes, unwillingly. He wants to watch her swallow, he wants to watch her smile at him the way she does as she climbs up his body and slips her own arousal over his.

She grins, wipes the corners of her mouth, and does just what he knows she will do. She snakes her body up and over his, and she gives her hips a swivel, coating him in her wetness, and she chuckles when he whines, still too sensitive to take it. "Good morning," she whispers.

He gives her a wicked look, then lifts his head to kiss her hard. His hands are still wrapped in her hair, so he twists and keeps her pressed against his lips. He kisses her fervently for a moment, then slows down. He's gentle, now, and he's caressing her, sliding his fingers through her silky locks. "Good morning," he whispers against their kiss.

She smiles, but the hard bang on the steel door makes her grin fade. "I'll go," she says, moving.

He shakes his head. "No," he tells her. "Stay here." He kisses her, then disentangles himself from her body and tugs a sheet around his waist.

She sighs as she watches him walk toward the stairs, afraid of what's waiting for them at the top.

THERE

"Porter," Cragen barks, his arms crossed, "You have ten seconds to tell me why Simon Marsden is in that room!"

Dean Porter turns, looking at Captain Cragen with shock in his eyes. "You know damn well why!"

Cragen takes a step into the pit. "Yesterday, you told my entire crew that there's no way he could be involved. Now you've got him in there, and you're questioning him like he killed someone! You can't have it both ways, Porter!"

"Don," Porter says, sighing. "What if I was wrong? What if it is him?" He runs a hand down his face. "Think about it. Payback for giving him up, for getting him caught up in…"

"Why are you so convinced it has to be family?" Cragen interrupts. "Even if it was, you do realize whoever took them still has them, right? A few states away. Simon has been in the city the whole time."

Porter shakes his head. "Someone took them. Both of them…and hasn't hurt them. They're safe, and being taken care of like children or pets or something. It's sick, but it's not violent. Only someone who loves them would take them, together, and not hurt them."

Cragen sighs. "You have a point," he admits, "But Simon didn't even know they were missing until you brought him down here. He hasn't spoken to Olivia in over a year." He clears his throat and adds, "Besides, haven't we already figured out that it's gotta be someone with contacts in the unit, or at least in the building? This fucker knows every step we take, Dean."

Dean raises a finger. "Ah!" he exclaims. "What if he bugged the place? We know someone is with them, all the time, watching them wherever they are. So either someone is here relaying information to him, or he's just listening. Watching somehow. But that doesn't explain why…"

"Let Simon go," Cragen says, ignoring Porter. "I gotta get Morales down here."

"What?" Porter asked. "Why?"

"Something you just said," Cragen began. "A while back, someone we trusted bugged the place. And he has one hell of a grudge against Olivia and Elliot."

Porter watched Cragen leave and then looked back at the two-way mirror. He sighed and walked into the interrogation room. "You really want me to believe you didn't do this, don't you?"

Simon lifts his head up from where it had been, hidden in his hands, and he says, "Of course, I didn't do it! I love my sister, Agent Porter. Whether you believe me or not, I do. I would never rip her away from her life, especially not in her condition."

"What condition?" Porter asks, suddenly worried.

"You…wait, you guys you don't know…she…" Simon breaks off and shakes his head again. "Then who sent me this?" he asks, taking out his cell phone. He scrolls through the messages, finding the one to which he's referring, and hands it to Porter. "I assumed it was Elliot, or Olivia. I don't have their numbers anymore. But you said they've been gone for days with no cell phones, so I thought…"

"Shit," Porter snaps, tossing the phone back to Simon. He runs out of the room, into the squad room. "Munch! Fin! We have a problem. A big one."

HERE

After breakfast, the two captives showered in their corner, dried off, and snuggled under the covers. However, their eyes were on the pile of books and things their kidnapper had given them.

"We made the front page," Elliot says, nodding toward the folded piece of newspaper on the empty tray. He scoffs then. "Bastard blacked out the date and…that's the only article he sent down here. He wants us to know that people are worried, but he doesn't want us to know how long we've been gone or…"

"He doesn't want us to know anything. Not without his permission," Olivia says, her naked body curling around his. Her eyes travel up and down the pile of books on the floor beside the bed. "He's considerate, at least," she mumbles seductively, turning her eyes up at him.

He chuckles, knowing that she's spotted the thick copy of the Kama Sutra at the top of the pile. Then he sighs. "I swear, I will a find a way to get us out of here before…"

"Stop making that promise," she says, her voice biting now. "It's really pissing me off. It's not making me feel any better, especially not now."

He blinks at her. "Sorry," he whispers. "I just…I'm scared, too, Liv. Did you ever think I say it to make myself feel better?"

She turns her eyes toward him. "Oh, honey, I…I'm sorry." She kisses his shoulder, just where her lips lie against him. "He sent those vitamins down again, and some of those books are…" Then one hand smoothes over her stomach and she closes her eyes. "I know he knows what's wrong with me," she whispers to him. "And he's not telling us."

He nods and whispers, "We'll find out eventually," he says. Then he sits up. "I wanna read you something."

"God, please," she whines when he gets up. "El, don't read Diabetes and You, to me," she whines. "And if you're reaching for that copy of What to Expect When You're Expecting I will…"

He holds up the newspaper and raises his eyebrow. "You wanna stop snapping at me, today, please?" He sighs and sinks back into the bed, then wraps her in his arms. "I know you're scared, I know this is aggravating, but, baby, we are all we've got. We can't let this get to us, we can't let this tear us apart. Maybe that's what he wants."

She takes a deep breath and she closes her eyes. "You're right," she whispers. "You know how much I love you?"

He smiles down at her, kisses her forehead, and says, "As much as I love you." He flips open the newspaper page, taking a glance at the photo of them that takes up most of it, and he scans the article. "Here," he says, "Captain Donald Cragen of the Manhattan Special Victims Unit, of which both missing detectives are elite members, promises he will not rest until the two are found and brought home. 'This case will be open and active,' says Cragen, 'As long as it takes." He kisses her again. "See? You feel better now?"

She lets out a soft sound, almost as if she's surprised. "You think he'll really find us?" she asks, and she sniffles. Crying again.

"No doubt in my mind," he says, kissing her softly. "So I need you to stop worrying, baby. We are going to be fine."

She sniffles again. "El, who do you think is…"

"I don't know, sweetheart," he says, kissing her closed eyelids. "When I find out, he's gonna be sorry he ever fucked with us."

She chuckles, then, and opens her eyes. "You don't think that camera's live, do you? I mean, he's not broadcasting this online or something, is he?"

"I'm sure," Elliot began, turning onto his side, "That if that was the case, Morales would have figured it out and Cragen would have been down here long ago."

She looks relieved as she scoots closer to him, and she slips her hands up and down his arms. "I guess," she says. "So what do you think?" she asks, then, looking up at him. "What do you think Doctor Henderson would have said if we actually got to see him?"

He smiles. He kisses the end of her nose. Then he reaches over to the pile of books and grabs two from the top. "Well," he said. "Let's read some of these and figure it out." He smirks. "Can we start with this one?"

She grins back at him and eyes the Kama Sutra in his hands. "How is that gonna tell us what's…"

"Oh," he interrupts. "It's not. But it's gonna distract the shit out of us." He chuckles.

She grabs the book, tosses it over her shoulder. "We don't need a book, El," she says with a sexy smile. But before she can move closer to him, the chains rattle, the locks hitch.

They freeze as the door slides against the tiles, and before she can stop him he's up and running, but he knows he won't make it. He hasn't yet.

He stops in his tracks when the door slams. He sighs, and he turns back toward the bed. "Ya know, I think tomorrow I'm just gonna hang out up on the top step."

She laughs and shakes her head, and then she crooks a finger at him.

He smiles back at her and moves toward her, as if he's being pulled by some invisible force. "Whatever it is, I'll get it later." He covers her body with his, and he kisses her softly, and he whispers, "Remind me to thank him before I kill him."

THERE

Cragen rubs his eyes and looks up at Morales. "How long has it been there?" he asks.

Morales holds a very tiny microphone between a pair of tweezers. "This model is obsolete," he says. "They stopped production in late Two-Thousand-Six, so it was probably planted before then."

Munch clears his throat. "Someone has been listening to every conversation we have had in this room for six years?"

Cragen blinks. "It's been there for six years," he says. "But I don't think he's been listening that long." He scratches his head. "I think I know, but he's…he's in jail…unless he…" He looks around and his eyes land on Morales. "Can you find out who bought that thing?"

Morales grins. "If the account linked with the serial number is still active, yes." He slips the tiny bug into a glass jar. "These were only sold in model-specific batches to federal agencies, law enforcement officials, and corporate news organizations. I will get you the name of the company that was issued this particular model in a jiffy." He runs out of the conference room, whizzing by Ed Tucker on his way.

"Any luck?" Tucker asks, his hands in his pockets.

"We're getting closer," Cragen says. "But now we have a, um, time constraint. We're risking a lot of lives if we don't find them in time."

"How long?" Tucker asks, worried.

Porter runs a hand down his face. "Seven months," he says. "Maybe eight. Depends."

Tucker looks around and sees the worried faces of Fin and Munch, and he knows it's a bad time to do what he's about to do, but he doesn't have a choice. "The chief wants you, Don," he says. "That's why I'm here. He…he wants to talk to you about…well, he thinks you need to hand over the case and get back to…"

"Oh, he does?" Cragen snaps. "We'll see about that." He bolts from the room, unaware of the package lying on his desk in his office. A package that will turn the case around. And make him a suspect.