Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.

Apartment of Olivia Benson, 203 W. 89th Street, 4D, Manhattan, New York

"You didn't have to yell at him like that," Olivia scolded, pulling her sweater off over her head. She tossed it into the hamper with a small grunt, pissed off.

Elliot, unbuckling his belt, snapped back at her. "He lied to us! For years! You know damn well he only did it out of spite!" He shook his head and scoffed, letting his black slacks drop around his ankles. He kicked them off in the direction of the hamper. "I should have realized when the bullshit between you and Cassidy..."

"Will you stop bringing that up?" she interrupted, her eyes wide. "It was one fucking night with..."

"It happened!" he boomed, his jaw clenched as he hurled his shirt into the laundry bin. "I can't fucking help being pissed off about it! And Cragen didn't do shit, he just sort of looked at you disapprovingly, so why is it that whenever I asked him, or it looked like I was getting too close to you, he made it a point to bring up policy-this and guideline-that?"

She rubbed the middle of her forehead and sighed. "You heard him," she said. "He thought he was doing what was best for the unit."

"Fuck the fucking unit!" Elliot spat, standing in nothing but a pair of grey boxer-briefs. His nostrils were flaring, his chest heaving, and his face was a tinge redder than normal. He looked at her, then, seeing the fear and obvious hurt in her eyes. He closed his own and took a deep breath. "I know, okay?" he intoned. "I know we've screwed up in the past, that we made choices that put a case...or a victim...in jeopardy. But what the hell was he trying to prevent by making us scared to death of..." he heaved another sigh and shook his head again. "It didn't stop us, it just made us fucking paranoid."

She bit her lip as she moved toward him, in her black lace bra and panties, a set she knew he remembered well. She placed her open palms on his chest and smoothed along the expanse of it, calming him. "You still...really yelled at him."

He looked down at her and nodded curtly. "Yeah, and he didn't do shit about it, so what does that tell you? He knows he lied, he knows we caught him, and he knows his worst fear is probably being realized." He dropped his head to hers and curled his arms around her. He grew quiet, moving from side-to-side with her in his embrace, his eyes shut and breath coming slow and easy now. He kissed her once. "I don't really give a shit what he does, to be honest. I have you, right where I want you, where I need you to be, and if that means something changes at work, then I can deal with it." He kissed her again. "It's a small price to pay."

She smiled, but only slightly, and dropped light kisses to his chin, neck, and chest. "Amen to that," she said with a tiny laugh, and then she looked up at him, her eyes half closed and her grin turning wicked. "You, uh, you're hot when you're pissed."

His lids dropped to slits and he chuckled, a low, rumbling. "Oh, I know you think so. All those years watching you watching me in interrogation? I figured out what you were thinking a long time ago." He worked one hand up to the middle of her back, fiddling with the clasp of her bra. "You want me," he said smugly.

"Not gonna deny that," she said with a half-shrug, her own fingers dancing along his elastic waistband. She gave a tug, pulling the cotton down over his right hip, letting her index finger tease the cut in his muscle. "You want me, just as much."

"Fuck, yeah I do," he told her with a nod, finally feeling the hooks give and slipping the bra away from her skin. "Always have, always will." He dropped the lacy garment to the floor and dragged his thick, rough hands down her body to play at her panties. He chuckled again, this time sounding more seductive than evil, and he slowly rolled the material over her hips. "You are so fucking beautiful," he whispered. "I don't tell you that enough."

"You tell me all the time," she whispered back, wrapping her hand around his freed cock. She stroked him slowly, craning her neck to kiss his lips.

He moaned against her lips in protest. "Not enough," he grumbled, sliding his left hand between her legs. He skimmed upward, dragging the side of his hand through her folds. He groaned, feeling her wetness and hearing her light gasp. He traced the seam of her lips with his tongue, beseechingly.

She complied, parting her lips, kissing him deeply. She began to stroke him harder and at the insistence of his fingers, spread her legs a bit for him. She whimpered when he pushed his middle finger up and into her. "El," she breathed.

He moved, keeping his finger working inside of her, moaning as she tugged on him. He backed her up, and when her legs hit the bed, he propelled them onto the mattress and kissed her hungrily. He added another finger, twisting them, making her curse into his mouth, and he shifted his body onto hers completely.

She felt him grab her wrist and move her hand, but her eyes were shut tightly as she nipped and snapped at his lips. She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling his body move into position, readying. She took a breath and held it, anticipating, and just as she felt him being to push inside of her, he stopped. Her eyes opened. "What's wrong?"

He smiled down at her. "Absolutely nothing." With another deep, slow kiss, he slid home.

Squad Room of the Special Victims Unit, Sixteenth Precinct, Manhattan, New York

"All right, thanks," Munch said, hanging up a phone. "Damn it." He checked his watch and looked across his desk at Fin. "What time did Benson and Stabler leave?"

Fin shrugged and made a face. "Two hours ago, maybe?"

Munch sighed and shook his head. "I hate calling them like this," he mumbled, picking up the phone again.

"What happened?" Fin asked. "Why can't we handle it?"

Munch eyed Fin for a moment. "It's their case," he said. "I have to call them."

Fin rolled his eyes. "Well, what's the rush?"

Covering the receiver and glaring over his glasses at Fin, he said, "They found another body, in front of a dumpster...behind Violux."

Softening, Fin lowered his eyes. "Man," he said. "I thought we had the bastard."

"So did I," Munch said, returning his attention to the call that had finally been answered, by a very irritated sounding Elliot.

Violux Engineering, East 182nd Street, Manhattan, NY

"I know what time it is," Elliot said, trying to keep his temper in check. "I was in bed, too, so I understand your frustration. Believe me, I am...just as frustrated." His eyes twitched, signifying he may have been more than just frustrated. Munch's call had interrupted what would have been a mind-blowing experience, and having it cut short was causing him a lot of discomfort.

The blonde woman standing in front of him tugged on her lab coat and sighed as she rubbed her eyes. "I was on my way in, anyway, but to be so rudely accosted by police..."

"The wife of your founder, and boss, was found raped, beaten, and dismembered behind this building," Olivia interrupted. "We didn't accost you, we just figured you might like to help up find the scumbag responsible."

The woman was taken aback, seemingly offended. "Of course, I do," she said haughtily. She walked around the detectives and headed behind the front desk. "What exactly do you need from me?"

"Security tapes, for a start," Elliot said, "And then I need the answer to a question my partner and I have been asking for two days." He eyed the woman suspiciously. "Where is your boss? We keep getting run around in circles, so before we have to take a more severe and direct approach, down at the station, tell me where we can find Doctor Luxemburg."

The woman folded her arms. "What makes you think I have any idea?"

"You're here all night, all morning, so you must have some idea," Olivia said, placating.

The woman narrowed her eyes at Olivia. "I am here working, not playing pet-the-kitty with my boss!"

Elliot rubbed his chin to hide a chuckle. "I'm not asking if you're sleeping with him, I'm asking if, as his partner and colleague, you know where he is."

The blonde rolled her eyes and sighed, and then moved to her computer. She pulled up a calendar program, typed in her password, and drummed her fingers as she waited for it to load. "According to this, he's on vacation." She looked up at Elliot. "I don't know where, but he has the last two weeks completely blocked out."

"Thank you," Olivia said, nodding politely. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

With an exasperated sigh, the woman clipped her name tag to her coat. She shot Elliot a hard look, glanced almost disdainfully at Olivia, and then walked away.

Elliot tilted his head and squinted, and then he turned and licked his lips. "Did you see that?"

"Yeah," Olivia said, poking the inside of her cheek with her tongue. "That's not a common name."

"And it can't be a coincidence," Elliot said, shifting his weight onto one foot. He was still uncomfortably frustrated.

"We need to head down to holding," Olivia said, "And pay Pettruchio a little visit."

Peace and Love

Jo

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