Olivia: What are you doing with those files?

Me: Um…they're mine?

Olivia: Are you Dick Wolf.

Me: Yeah. Okay no, I inherited them

Olivia: What happened to Wolf?

Me: He…died. *Olivia glares* Fine, I don't own, God lighten up.

Suites de Luxe Hotel Lobby

413 East Equestrian Boulevard

Saturday March 24

"I am aware that you want an adjoining room on the ninth floor for the weekend of April 16th, but like I said our connected rooms are completely booked for that weekend…yes, I know, and I'm very sorry, but it's out of my control…can I offer you another weekend or a discount on a regular room?...yes, I am aware you're sister is only getting married once…okay, ma'am there's no need to yell…excuse me? Did you really just a call me a…you know what, fine, take you're business elsewhere, good day," Elliot said slamming down one of the phones at back of the receptions desk. His day had not been going well. He determined that he was only capable of being a people person when those people were criminals and could be restrained with handcuffs and threatened with jail time. He also hadn't gotten a lead all day. No one suspicious looking and no one that could possibly be related to the Jones case. He was hoping Olivia and Erin were having better luck.

"Joseph!" Elliot bossed bellowed his undercover name.

"Yes sir?" He asked tiredly.

"Did I just hear you be rude to a customer?"

"Sir, I hardly say what I said was out of context. You should've heard this lady, she was cussing at me, screaming up a storm, she even-"he was cut off by his boss' response.

"Joseph, what did we go over first thing this morning?"

Elliot clenched his jaw, an effort to keep his emotions in check, "That the customer is always right."

"Very good," he said as if talking to a child, "and what happens if we don't follow this code to treat them with respect?"

"They don't come here and we don't get paid."

"Yes, right again. So why don't we take what we know…and actually use it!" He said putting his hands on his head. "Ay, rookies," he mumbled while walking back to the room behind the desk to go to his office.

Elliot let out a frustrated groan and glanced at his watch. It was almost time for his reception shift to end. He was about to pack up when he saw a man with a dingy apron and a ripped out page in his hand, glancing around nervously before walking towards that door. Elliot kneeled a bit and glanced slightly to the left to see the paper in his hand. He had mixed emotions when he saw it was a slightly crumpled piece of the pageant program, creased many times and with a picture and miniature biography of a perfectly posed Alice Jones.

"Hey," Elliot said tapping a desk clerk next to him, "who's that?" he asked, motioning towards the man walking out the door.

"Him?" the young blond, gum-chomping woman asked next to him, "that's Saul, a dishwasher here. If you ask me he's super dreamy. I mean not on the job of course, I mean, ewuh, those gross uniforms, but seriously you should see him with it off and…" Elliot zoned out while she continued to talk about 'what a hunk' Saul was.

"Do you know his last name?" Elliot said, already engraving 'Saul' in his head to remember for later.

"Crate, you know why I know that? Because it rhymes with great, which is what his hair is, I mean for real…" she said going on another rampage.

"Thanks got to go," Elliot said patting her on the back and gathering his things, rushing up to Olivia's room to tell her the break in the case.

Suites de Luxe Hotel: Room 414

413 East Equestrian Boulevard

Saturday March 24

At the sound of a knock on her door, Olivia got up from her fateful place on the couch where she was flipping though a magazine and went over to the large wooden door.

"Elliot, what are you doing here?" She whispered in case someone witnessed her calling him his real name and peering out the hallway to make sure no one was watching.

"I might have advancement on the case, calm down, what's wrong?" He asked as Olivia pulled him inside the luxurious room. They didn't call it Suites de Luxe for nothing, he concurred.

"Nothing, it's just that if anyone hears you, suspicions might arise and attention is the last thing we need. And trust me, it won't be hard to attract it, and people majored in gossip and minored in fabricating stories at Housewives University."

"That's an interesting way of putting it."

"I'm a usually interesting person. So anyway, what's the progression on the case?" she asked, sitting down at the couch again. Her feet were killing her from the heels today.

Elliot followed lead and took the place beside her. Just then, Erin came out of the bathroom in sweats and an oversized t-shirt, humming something quietly and dancing around slightly. Elliot and Olivia watched, humored.

"Oh, God! Well that's embarrassing," Erin said clutching her chest when she spotted the duo sitting there, staring at her in amusement.

"It's okay, you're not bad," Elliot said, "I'd ask for an encore, but I have something that might be of slight more importance. We have a possible suspect."

"Who is it?" Erin asked, sitting on the chair across the coffee table of the couch where the detectives were positioned.

"His name's Saul Crate. I saw him leaving today looked around and sweating. He works as a dishwasher here, same shift that Alice was killed."

"Any possible motives?" Olivia asked.

"Not sure, I'll have to investigate him a little further. It could be money though; I don't imagine dishwashers make a lot of dough."

Erin let out a laugh and the detectives looked at her in confusion. "You said dough and he works in a kitchen. Sorry immature," she said folding her hands and pursing her lips.

"Be serious Erin," Olivia chastised, "he's a dishwasher not a cook so it doesn't work, get it right," she said smiling.

"Well maybe he's a spoonitic," Erin suggested. The two adults rolled their eyes, "sorry, couldn't resist."

"Fork this; if you two won't be serious, I'm leaving." Elliot said, slipping in a joke of his own, sending all of them into chuckles. They needed it from their stressful first days. "But really I have to go, I'll see you tomorrow," Elliot said walking out the door, relaxing and trying not to think of his day of more hotel work tomorrow. His job was for wimps, he thought, customer service was the tough stuff.

Author's Note: Sorry for the wait, I've been super busy. Review please and thanks for all the ones I got! They make my ENTIRE LIFE! =) Keep them coming! Sorry if there's any mistakes, I proofread but I'm tired so just tell me if there are and I'll change them.