Okay, here's chapter four. First, let me say that Gina was made an artist in direct reflection of my mother and something she said about artists saving their feelings for their artwork.

Julie, I'm an Alex fan, too, but I like Casey's body language and facial expressions better, and she's just an easier character to write for.

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Chapter Four: Olivia

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Olivia raked her hand through her short hair, in a familiar, frustrated gesture, forcing her eyes to read through the same paragraph in the coroner's report on Ashely Mabre, hoping this time her brain would actually process the words into recognizable English. Raising her eyes, she checked the wall clock. It was nine o'clock in the morning, about the time when most people arrived at work.

Olivia had never left. After working almost twenty-four hours, she was tired, she was dirty, and she had waaaay too much caffiene in her system.

"Anything?" Eliot asked, dropping his folder onto his desk and pinching the bridge of his nose to ward off an approaching eyestrain headache.

"No." Olivia gave up on the report and tossed it on her desk. "Bastard wore a condom. No fluids, no hair, no nothing. What about you?" Eliot shook his head and knocked back the last of his coffee.

"Nothing at the crime scene, either," Munch said, dropping a new pile of folders on his desk and sitting in his chair with gusto. "Just a couple of bloody footprints- size eleven dress shoes- and a handprint that brought up no matches on the database. Apartment was being renovated, no lease had been signed, but we did get a list of people who had looked at the place."

"Eliminating four names based on sex, that leaves us with three potentials there, but there's no guarantee that's how the killer found out about the apartment," Fin added with his usual pessimism. "Could have been someone who worked on the renovations, someone who knows someone who worked on the renovations... The list goes on."

"As does this night. Day," Munch said, slurping his coffee loudly and wincing at the taste. "This coffee's terrible."

"You made it," Olivia said, allowing a bit of a smile to appear. "If you're going out, get me some." Resigning herself back to work, she pulled over the next report, this one on a Janine Diamond. Scanning the report, she shot upright. "I think I got something. Listen: 'Three hairs where found on the victim's pubic region, but they were eliminated as belonging to another of the victims, one Mishelle Davidow.'"

"So?" Cragen prompted, having come over after hearing the words 'I think I got something'.

"So, Janine Diamond was a homosexual. Mishelle Davidow was her girlfriend. Ashely Mabre was Regina Novak's girlfriend. I'll bet you anything the last two were a couple as well." She slapped the table to emphasize. "It's the link we were looking for. This guy is targeting homosexual women." She suppressed the shudder than ran down her spine at that statement.

"Okay. Fin and Munch, call the victims' families and friends. See if they confirm this. Olivia, good job. Now go handle that." Cragen pointed towards the door.

Confused, Olivia turned to see Regina Novak standing just outside the door, chewing her lip and seeming to debate about going in or not, fingering the strap on the messenger bag that was slung on her hip. "What is she doing here?" Eliot muttered. "She just got out of the hospital."

"Let's go ask. Hey, Gina," she called, striding over and surveying the young woman, whose jeans and brown leather jacket were so different from Casey's normal attire that the effect was startling. "You look terrible."

"You aren't looking so good yourself, detective," Gina said, lifting a corner of her mouth in greeting, a gesture that barely touched her eyes, which harbored a sorrow the drugs had lifted. "Casey said I needed to make a statement or something?"

"When you felt up to it. You should still be in bed," Olivia said, gripping Gina's elbow and guiding her into the room, not commenting on the slight limp that marred the red-head's lanky stride.

"I can't..." She paused, and took a deep breath. "I can't be at home. Half the stuff there is Ashe's, and... I can't stop thinking that she's not gonna be there ever again." She gave herself a convulsive shake and forced a smile to appear. "And Casey's at work and she has tons of stuff to do, so I figured I'd get this over with."

"I'd offer you coffee, but the last pot we've got is almost five hours burnt, so..."

"So I'll pass on the coffee," Gina finished with an amused smile. "Just tell me what to do."

"First of all, let me introduce you to the rest of the squad. Guys, this is Regina Novak, Casey Novak's sister."

"Casey never mentioned she had a clone," Eliot said with a surprisingly good-natured smile, despite his lack of sleep. "I'm Eliot Stabler."

"Casey doesn't talk much," Gina said with a shrug as she returned his handshake.

"Fin Tutuola," Fin said shortly, but with a smile. Gina didn't seem offended by his curt introduction, and she greeted Munch cordially enough.

"You guys look like shit," she said frankly. "I thought I looked bad, but you are all in serious need of sleep, and that's an understatement."

"I'll sleep when this creep is at Rikers," Munch said. "In the mean time, I'm getting coffee. Who wants?" After taking the squad's orders, he grabbed up his coat and strode out the door.

"Okay, first I want to ask you if you could describe the guy for a sketch artist," Olivia said, turning back to Gina.

"Oh!" Gina pulled her messenger bag over her head and pulled out a sketchbook. "Here." She flipped to a page. "That's him."

Olivia pulled the book over and studied the guy. "He's a looker," she commented. "You drew this?"

Gina shrugged. "Yeah. I couldn't sleep. If you could photocopy it, or something? I kinda want to keep it in there with the others."

"What others?" Olivia turned the page and came face to face with the guy again, only this drawing was much more artistic, with jagged lines and a hateful sneer on his face. There were at least half a dozen of them, each one slightly different cast to his mood. "You're really good," she commented, turning back to the realistic, emotionless sketch.

"Thanks," Gina said with a shrug. "I like doing people. So many different ways to do it, you know? You might not wanna look at the others. Some are of Ashely and they're... personal."

Olivia promised not to look, though she wondered what Gina's art looked like when she was drawing someone she loved, as opposed to someone she hated, and handed the sketchpad to Fin to scan into the computer. "C'mon. Let's go talk someplace private and you can tell me what happened."

Half an hour later, Olivia couldn't help but feel guilty as she pushed a box of tissue towards the silently weeping artist. The sketchbook had been returned, and Gina was running a pencil along the surface of a page, though she'd tilted it so Olivia couldn't see.

"One more question," Olivia said after Gina had wiped her eyes. "Did he say anything in particular that stuck out in your mind?"

Without taking her eyes off her pad, Gina frowned. "Yeah. He kept calling me a dyke. He also said that 'they' could never say no to him if he killed them all. He never said who 'they' were." Suddenly she stopped drawing and looked up, eyes wide. "He meant lesbians, didn't he? Oh, God." She shook her head dazedly, then locked eyes with Olivia again. "If there's anything I can do, anything at all..."

"You've already done more than we would have asked," Olivia said sincerely, thinking back over the details of her report, and remembering the sketch which was, as of right now, being circulated.

"It doesn't feel like enough," Gina said, more to herself than to Olivia. Then she studied her pad, added something quickly, and tore the page out. "Here. This is for you."

Olivia took it and came face to face with herself. There was a drawing of her head that took up half the page, and then there was a full-body sketch of herself with a cup of coffee in one hand and a folder tucked under the other. "You did this just now?"

"Yeah. I had to do something with my hands." Gina shrugged. "You like it, then?"

"Yeah. Except... I really look like that? You made me look too good."

"Hey, I draw exactly what I see. That's you. Ask anybody." She checked her watch. "Can I call Casey now? She's on her lunch break, and no way am I letting her work through another one."

Olivia laughed. "Yeah. Go ahead. We're done here. Thanks for this," she added, waving the sketch as Gina opened the door to the interview room. Gina's only response was a slight smile and a barely noticeable wink.

"Hey, Eliot," Olivia said as she exited the room. "Do I really look like this?"

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