A/N: Later...never comes...when you expect it.

DISCLAIMER: I would LOVE to own these marvelous characters, but sadly, I only own the stories I use them in. My words, my plot, my mind,my heart. 3 Tstabler.

"Okay, so all we know so far is that this was an inside job," Fin explained, leaning back in his chair. He looked over his shoulder, making sure that Cragen was out of earshot, and said, "Someone wants Cragen dead, and went outta the way to hire a cop in the unit to do the job."

"I don't think that's the whole story," Munch surmised, flopping down a folder as he sat in his own chair. "Fredrick's jacket. Cragen reported him to the big guys, twice, for insubordination. Tucker wrote him up...almost as much as he wrote up Stabler. This may have been him, acting of his own volition. Warning in his file, here, says if he got one more black mark, he was out of the unit, possibly out of the department altogether."

Fin picked up the file,flipped through it, and shook his head. "He didn't seem the type, man. Besides, Briscoe said that they were talkin' shop before he opened fire. Something about a case they were workin' involving a couple'a pros on Thirty-Fifth street. This came outta nowhere, so if his goal was to off the Cap'n, he wouldn't..."

"Bingo!" Elliot yelled from his desk, clapping his hands together. "Ran his financials, a deposit hit his account two days ago, two mil. Yesterday, another deposit, five hundred grand." He stood up and walked over to the other side, stopping behind Olivia. He leaned over her, wrapping his arms loosely around her shoulders, and started typing on her keyboard.

"Uh, excuse me, Liv, can I use your computer? Sure, El, no problem," she said sarcastically.

"Thanks, knew you wouldn't mind." He chuckled, a low laugh, right into her ear. He pulled up the program that had been running on his own computer and twisted the monitor so the rest of his team could see it. "Both transfers came from the same account."

Olivia, furrowing her brow and taking back control of her computer, frantically typed the number into the search engine of a different program. "Oh, shit," she muttered, scanning the results. "Guys, uh, those deposits came from Callaghan's campaign account."

"No," Munch said, shaking his head. "No, how could he possibly have..."

"Someone call Rey," Olivia interrupted. "He might be in trouble." She pushed her chair back, knocking Elliot aside, and grabbed her jacket.

Elliot found his feet and grabbed her arm. "Where the hell do you think..."

"We can't wait until after midnight," she said, cutting him off. "Donnelly gave us the warrant, now we have more of a reason to go after him, before anything happens to..."

"You still have feelings for him?" he asked, tightening his grip on her.

Her eyes went wide as she yanked her arm away from him. "Another cop," she spat, finishing her sentence. "A cop with kids, Elliot, not everything is personal!" She walked away fast, knowing he'd follow.

"We're gonna need backup!" he yelled on his way out, hoping someone heard him, and knew where to send it. "Liv! Liv, wait!"

"I can't," she hissed. "If Callaghan knew Rey was here, talking to us, and was already planning to have Cragen killed, there's no telling what else he's planning, or already doing." She led him through the stairwell door, racing down the cement stairs two at a time. "And no, I don't have feelings for him, asshole. I never really did."

Elliot couldn't help but sigh in relief at her words, but he held back his emotions as he mumbled, "Right. Sorry." He followed her out of the metal door and through the lobby, and then out of the building, speeding toward their car. "I'll drive," he told her, getting his keys out of his pocket.

"You got the address he gave you?" she asked, watching him hit the button on the fob to unlock the car. Before he could answer, though, they were knocked off their feet and thrown into the air.

The blast was loud, the flames high, the smoke thick and black. Several people ran toward the chaos, car alarms starting to go off loudly, as bits of maroon colored metal and burnt, melted plastic fell around them.

Coughing, she managed to roll over, feeling her bones crack and muscles scream at her for moving. "Fuck," she choked, squeezing her eyes shut and wincing as she tried to sit up. "Elliot? El!"

"I'm okay," he coughed, shifting around and crawling over to her. "Are you hurt?"

Still coughing, she shook her head. She reached for him and pulled him up, and when they both sat up straight, she asked, "What the fuck just happened?"

He shrugged. Turning toward her, he brushed some ash and dust off of her, asking with his eyes if she was really okay. He pulled her closer to him, kissing her forehead the way he'd done after the shooting in the squadroom. "I'm okay," he whispered, knowing he had answered her unasked question.

She nodded, a lump in her throat preventing her from saying anything. She heard sirens drawing closer, and she knew it was the fire department. "We need to move," she said, "El, we have to...it's gonna..."

"I know," he said, and he moaned in pain as he got to his knees and pulled her up with him, bringing them to their feet. He looped an arm around her waist as he supported her, running as fast as he could toward the station, knowing that at any moment, there would be another explosion, this time caused by the gas tank in what was left of the car.

No sooner had they reached the side of the brick building, they were thrust to the ground again by the blast they knew was coming. Surrounding cars were damaged, widows broken and doors dented, but now, there was nothing left of the old maroon sedan that held too many memories and empty coffee cups to count.

Coughing again, Olivia lifted her head and opened her eyes, Elliot peering down from on top of her. His eyes said everything she needed to hear, needed to know, and without thinking, she kissed him. It was quick, over as soon as it began, but he smiled when his lips left hers, and she smiled back, with tears in her eyes.

"What?" he asked, scared. "What hurts, are you..."

"Liv! Elliot!" Fin yelled, running toward them. As he drew closer, the firefighters marched toward the flaming cars and black smoke, making the scene look far more emergent than it was. "Shit, you guys okay?"

"Yeah," Elliot's answer came. He got to his feet again, and then reached down to lift Olivia off of the asphalt. "We're...we're okay."

"Bomb squad," Olivia wheezed, holding her left side. She held up a hand when Elliot moved to check her for injury. "I'm fine, El." She looked over at Fin. "Call the bomb squad, and we need to send someone over to the..."

"Already called 'em," Fin interrupted, reaching for her. "Cap wants you two to see the EMTs, SWAT is heading to break up Callaghan's little victory party as we speak."

Elliot looked at him funny, limping as he walked, still holding onto Olivia, over toward the waiting ambulance. "Victory party?"

Fin nodded, helping Elliot lift Olivia up onto the back of the van. "He probably thinks the entire unit's dead by now. No one told him any different." He watched the EMT wrap a blood-pressure cuff around her arm and start pumping the gauge. "We found Rey Curtis. He was still in transit, he's okay."

"Oh, good, thank God," she said with a sigh. As the cuff got tighter, so did her grip on Elliot's hand, which she didn't even know she was holding. "Warning you, pal, it's gonna be fucking high," she said, pointedly, to the EMT.

He laughed and starting lifting the side of her sweater with gloved hands. "This hurt?" he asked, pushing gently against her lower rib cage. Her wincing gave him his answer. "Might be a broken rib." He continued his cursory examination, including making sure her pupils dilated and contracted.

With every new move, she squeezed Elliot's hand.

"Okay, I'm right here," he whispered to her.

"You're next,Detective Stabler," the EMT said, "And then I have orders to have the two of you brought to Mercy General for a complete eval.

He rolled his eyes, but begrudgingly he complied, easing Olivia over a bit and sitting next to her on the metal lip of the ambulance. He went through the same brief tests that Olivia had endured, rolling his eyes again when the EMT put tiny bandaids on his chin and forehead, and huffing gruffly when he was told that is ankle was badly sprained.

"Could be worse," Olivia said, leaning into him, "Much worse." She looked up, into his worried and scared eyes, and she bit her lip, wondering if kissing him before had been the wrong thing. It probably was, but God, she wanted to do it again. "I, uh, I'm..."

"Olivia!" It was Cragen's voice, panic stricken. "Elliot! Jesus Christ!"

"Don't think he's here, Cap," Elliot joked, "But me and Liv are...we're okay." He felt her trying to pull her hand out of his, but it was his turn to tighten grip. "Few bumps and bruises, that's all."

"Yeah," Cragen scoffed, "Thank fucking hell that's all." He looked at Fin. "You, meet SWAT on Madison Avenue, now. Take Munch with you. This bastard is going down."

Olivia grunted as she tried to move, turning more toward Cragen. "You weren't this pissed off when you were almost killed."

Cragen tried to smile at her in a way that didn't look emotional. "I wasn't," he said flatly. "You two..." he paused and shook his head, choking on the words as hey formed behind the ball of fear lodged in his throat. "No one hurts the two of you like this. And if they do, they do not fucking get away with it, not on my watch." He looked at Elliot. "You sure you're both all right?"

Elliot nodded. "She might have a cracked rib, I got a sprained ankle, we're both gonna be a but purple in the morning, but yeah, Cap," he said. "We're okay."

"This can't just be about bringing down Callaghan," Olivia said, her watering eyes squinting.

Cragen sighed. "No," he said. "You're right. It's not." He looked at the EMT. "Take them, get them a room. The same room. Two beds, one window, away from any doors or elevators. I'm having a B and W follow you, and those two armed officers will be standing outside that room at all times, do you understand me?"

The EMT nodded, not blinking, and started to guide Olivia up and into one of the stretchers in the truck.

"Wait," she said, her hand still linked with Elliot's. "Captain, what the hell is going on?" She winced when her hand fell away from Elliot's and she plopped onto the stretcher.

Cragen looked apologetically at her. "I will tell you, as soon as you both are checked out and stable at Mercy."

"C'mon, Detective Stabler," the EMT said, pulling Elliot up.

"Cap?" Elliot questioned.

Cragen shook his head. "Later, Elliot," he said. "Just...take car of each other. I'll be there as soon as I can."

The EMT closed the rear ambulance doors, cutting off Cragen's view of Elliot and Olivia, and their pale, panicked faces. "When I get my hands you," he said to no one, "I will kill you, you son of a bitch." He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, dialing a number he hoped he would never have to use again. "Hey, it's Don Cragen. We have a situation." He took a breath and let it out fast. "She's okay, for now, but it's only a matter of time until he tries again." A brief silence. "I'll meet you at the airport."

He hung up, dropped the phone into his pocket, and then signaled a squad car to follow the ambulance. With a severity in his eyes, he walked toward a black car, got into the drivers seat, and slapped a blue, flashing light onto the dashboard. Like a bat of hell, Cragen drove off, not telling anyone where he was going. Or why.

A/N: Oh, my! Say what? What happens next? Are they really okay? Who's coming to help? The world may never know...unless, you know, you want to, and stuff. R/R?