"Hey there, little lady, you lookin' for a ride?"

Alex turned and shook her head at Munch, who was leaning out of the passenger side window. She climbed in the back, her eyes meeting Olivia's in the rearview mirror. "Did they take care of you?" Munch continued as Olivia steered them out of the front gates.

"Yep. He just caught my cheekbone; nothing an icepack and some codeine won't fix," Alex replied as she buckled her seatbelt. "Did the guards and the cellmate give you anything on Kelleher?"

"No," Olivia answered before Munch could. "Nothing we can work with."

Munch shot a look at Olivia, one that was blocked from Alex's view, but said nothing.

"He said nothing?" Alex shook her head in disbelief. "I don't know why I'm surprised; Kelleher's defended enough people to know a jailhouse snitch can be deadly to the appeals process." She leaned back in the seat, resting her head against the interior but being careful not to lean on the wounded side of her face. "What next?"

"You go home." Olivia risked a glance in the rearview. "Munch and I will go through Emma's file and see if anything jumps out at us."

"Any suggestions on what I tell her? She's going to want to know something."

Shaking her head, Olivia swallowed a sigh. "Tell her we won't stop looking until we find something."

"This doesn't rule him out, does it? I mean, if no one gave you anything, it's still possible Kelleher's behind this whole thing." Alex searched Olivia's eyes in the mirror, searching for an answer that was apparently not there.

Averting her gaze, Olivia didn't have an answer for Alex; at least, she didn't have one that would satisfy the ADA. Olivia was torn between betraying the trust of the woman she'd come to care so much for, and her own anger and disappointment in herself for missing Mark's connection to Emma's kidnapping. So she kept her mouth shut, grateful to Munch for doing the same, and hoped the answer would reveal itself upon closer scrutiny of the file.

The silence perplexed her slightly; was she wrong in thinking Olivia was holding something back from her? Alex deleted that thought from her head with a simple shake of her blonde tresses. Olivia knew how much keeping Emma safe meant to her; she wouldn't hold anything back if it meant achieving that goal. She settled back into her seat, and as the pavement scrolled by underneath the wheels of the sedan, the soothing motion rocked her painkiller-laden body to sleep.

She slept most of the way, sitting up only as she felt the passenger's side door close. Alex sat up, running a quick hand through her hair, trying to make herself look halfway decent. On wobbly legs, she got out of the car, grateful as Olivia discreetly wrapped a steadying arm around her waist. "Are you staying here to work?" Alex asked, her voice husky after her long nap.

"Yeah. I've got a lot to do." Olivia's heart ached to tell Alex everything, to get her take on the case as she'd always done with her, but there was no way. Elliot would be a more objective sounding board, anyway. "Let's get you in a cab, 'kay?"

"'Kay." They walked in companionable silence down the block before a cab stopped in front of them. "Call me if you get a sec, okay?" Alex asked, opening the car door.

"Yeah. Might not be until late," Olivia warned.

"When has that stopped you before?" Alex teased, brushing her hand against the detective's. "Whenever you get a sec," she repeated.

"Okay." Olivia pressed a discreet kiss to Alex's forehead as she climbed into the cab. "Lexington, between 107 and 108." She handed the driver enough money to cover the ride and a generous tip.

Elliot descended down the steps and cleared his throat, watching Olivia's eyes follow the cab speeding away from them. "Munch tells me you've signed me up for an all-nighter."

"So've you," she informed him, turning on her heel to face her partner. "Call Kathy, tell her you won't be home."

"Liv, what's goin' on?"

Meeting his earnest gaze, Olivia's resolve crumbled. "Mark Miller," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "He conspired with Kelleher to kidnap Emma. We have a convict's word on that; we just have to prove it."

Elliot took a deep breath, placing a strong, steady hand on Olivia's shoulder. "Think about what you just said. A convict told you Emma's husband had something to do with her kidnapping." At Olivia's biting gaze, Elliot made sure his next words were void of any potentially inflammatory words. "We went through that case with a fine tooth comb. What makes you think we missed something?"

"A dozen little pieces of evidence I thought of on the way back from Attica," Olivia replied, handing him the receiver to his phone. "Call Kathy." She strode out in search of food and coffee. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

At seven the next morning, Alex checked her cell phone and her home answering machine, concerned when neither indicated a message from Olivia. Filling her coffee cup, she dialed Olivia's desk and got her voicemail. She hung up before leaving a message, and tried Elliot's desk, frowning around her sip of coffee when she got the same message. She tried Olivia's apartment, still to no avail. Finally, she called Donald's office, surprised when his gruff reply entered her ears. "Hey, it's me," she said. "Is Benson with you?"

"She's in the rack," Cragen replied. "She and Stabler decided to catch a few before everyone else got here. Why?"

"No reason," Alex replied, amending her comment after an instant. "She was supposed to call me last night, that's all."

"And you were just checking in?" Cragen teased, familiar with Alex's habits. "She's fine."

"Okay then," Alex replied, grabbing her bathrobe and chucking it in the bathroom. "I guess I'll check in with you later."

"Sounds good." Cragen rose from his desk and headed into the bullpen, catching Munch's eye as the detective put his personal belongings in his locker. "You're here early. Putting in overtime?"

"I couldn't sleep," Munch replied, locking his things up and settling at his desk. "Where's the gang?"

"Benson and Stabler are in the racks. They gave up about an hour ago," Cragen replied, offering Munch a cup of coffee. "I'm giving them till seven-thirty or so."

"Give 'em till nine," Munch said, uncharacteristically genuine. "Fin said he'd be here in about fifteen, we'll thumb through the files 'till they get up."

"I doubt they'll sleep that long," Cragen replied. "When I got here at five, they were still truckin'. Benson's convinced we missed something the first time around." He took another sip of coffee, resting against Fin's desk. "You were there yesterday. Do you think we can take Rhodes at his word?"

Munch thought for a moment, tapping a pencil against the top of his desk. "Yeah, I do. He had nothin' to gain by lying to us, 'cept maybe an extra couple of years in prison."

"You understand the implications of that statement," Cragen defended. "It means Peter Kelleher is telling the truth, and Emma's in more danger than ever."

"It means he's telling the truth about this," Munch agreed, "and I know." His eyes were unreadable, save for the sheen of determination. "Which is why I'm here early, and why I was up all night. I agree with Olivia. We missed something critical, I just don't know—"

"The cat hair." Olivia strode into the room, exhaustion written all over her face. Her shoulders were squared against the day. "Once we caught Kelleher in the act, there was a ton of trace evidence we didn't bother running."

Somewhere inside him, Cragen's heart broke looking at the detective's drained features. "The hair could have been brought to Emma's place by any number of people, Max being one of them. Didn't we see a cat when we nailed him at his apartment?"

"Mark also gave Emma a tabby for Christmas," Elliot replied, emerging into the fold with a yawn. "He could have adopted it months in advance."

"He's admitted to being in her apartment the night she was kidnapped," Cragen played devil's advocate, knowing neither Cabot sister would accept this change of theory without concrete evidence.

"We'll get a sample from Emma's cat and from Max's cat and compare it to the sample that's in trace," Elliot replied.

"Good. Where are we on the letter and envelope?"

"I talked to the lab a couple of hours ago." Olivia held the thin file out to Elliot as she informed them all of the results. "No saliva, so no DNA evidence. No latent prints either. The perp wore latex gloves. My thinking is, where's a man in a maximum security prison gonna get a pair of latex gloves without answering a lot of questions?"

"That's a good question," Elliot replied, looking to his captain. For as much as they were involved with Emma as a group, Cragen had a much larger personal angle to deal with.

"All right," Cragen said after a second, "find out where Mark is, very quietly. Find out if he was in town on the day Emma received the letter. Olivia, do you think you can talk your way into Emma's apartment?"

"Mark doesn't know he's a suspect. Shouldn't be a problem." Olivia rooted around in her desk for a trace evidence kit.

"Look for anything, including the latex, and get a chunk of the cat if you can," Cragen ordered unnecessarily. "Elliot, you, John and I are going step by step through this thing again and figuring out how the hell Mark can be involved in this."

"Yup," Elliot replied, rolling his shirtsleeves back up.

"Nothing leaves here," Cragen enunciated through clenched teeth. "I don't want either sister breathing down my neck. Do it quietly."

"Got it, Cap." Olivia turned to leave, turning back to catch Munch's eye. "This is for Em," she murmured. "We gotta make it right."

"You call us when you're ready to nail the son of a bitch," Munch said, curling his hand around Olivia's shoulder, watching her tired body stiffen with responsibility and duty as she emerged into the early morning.

"Okay," Cragen said, looking at the event board Olivia and Elliot had set up during the night, "do we know where Mark was during the rest of our investigation?"

Elliot shook his head. "After we released him, we had him on twenty-four hour surveillance for a day. Did nothing but go to school and work."

"What about this phone call Olivia received at the restaurant? Our assumption was that Kelleher called from the boat."

"He wouldn't have had enough time to get from the restaurant, where he'd followed Olivia and Alex, to the pier to make the call," Munch replied. "It took us twenty-five minutes, and that was with sirens."

"We had assumed Kelleher wouldn't use any other third party contacts," Elliot replied. "The assumption Kelleher was outside was a good one."

"He would have had to leave Emma alone to do that," Munch pointed out. "So, assuming Mark was involved, he would have had to baby-sit Emma, or..."

"He was babysitting us," Cragen replied, staring at the picture of Emma that Alex had supplied two years earlier. Her blonde hair fell around her tilted face, Cabot eyes bright and teasing in a familiar look. "Mark followed the investigation after we dropped the tail, and when he saw his chance, had Kelleher call to taunt us. He could have been standing outside the restaurant watching Olivia and Alex, and called Kelleher with the location."

"We still haven't figured out whose idea the whole thing was, though," Elliot commented. "Was Kelleher pissed off enough at Emma that he would call an old boyfriend to do his dirty work?"

Cragen shook his head. "Mark and Emma got together long after she'd stopped talking to the Kellehers. Mark would have had to initiate the call. Fuck!" Cragen slammed his hand down on the desk. "He played us like a fuckin' orchestra."

"We're unraveling him, Cap," Elliot said after a moment.

"I'll get Mark's phone records for six months before Emma's kidnapping. Maybe they'll show something we missed the first time around," Munch offered, picking up his own extension and dialing Bell Atlantic.

"Do you think Huang could be useful in this? Mark's a sneaky bastard; maybe we need to be just as sneaky," Elliot commented to Cragen, who nodded.

"Wait until eight, then call him for a consult. Let's hope Olivia finds something at Emma's place." Cragen sighed internally, but his fist remained clenched around a stray pencil. He, too, felt the determination to bring anyone down who was even minutely associated with the hell Emma had been through.

The phone rang shrilly as Olivia waited impatiently for Emma to answer.

"Hello?" Emma answered around her mouthful of toast.

"Em, it's Olivia. Listen, I hate to bug you so early, but can I come over?"

"Uh, sure, Olivia. What's up? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just need to talk to you about something." Olivia hated hiding the truth from Emma, but had no choice. She heard noise in the background and tried to make her voice conversational as she asked, "Is Mark back from Ohio?"

"Yeah, he flew in last night," Emma replied, lowering her voice. "He's trying to make coffee."

"Oh, all right. When does he leave for work? I can wait until then." Olivia tried to keep her voice level.

"He's heading out in about ten or fifteen minutes. Do you want some breakfast?"

Olivia's mind raced as her feet paced outside the 16th precinct, the unusual chill of the spring day slowing her steps slightly. "No. Actually, Em, it's kind of...police business. Don't repeat what I just said," the detective added in a hurry. "I don't want Mark to know," Olivia lied, "I mean, until we have something concrete. I just need to run some stuff by you."

The brief confusion that crossed Emma's face was quickly replaced by a smile for her husband as he emerged from their bedroom. "Sure, that sounds great. I'll see you then."

"Thanks, Em." Olivia sighed in relief, pocketing the cell phone. Now she had twenty minutes to kill and a heart so strained with worry over what Mark might do at any moment that she could barely concentrate. One thought washed to the shore of her brain: Alex. Shit. Olivia dialed rapidly, hoping her girlfriend was still at home - and hoping she still had a girlfriend.

Alex was halfway out the door when her phone rang. She looked over her shoulder at the offending cordless and finally let the apartment door slam on her attaché in favor of stopping the ringing. "Hello?"

"Alex, it's Olivia. I'm sorry I didn't call last night, but..."

"Oh, that's okay," Alex replied quickly, sitting on the arm of her couch. "I know how you get. Where are you?"

"I'm still at work. I—there was a development yesterday. I didn't tell you then because I didn't think I had anything solid and I know how you get. I mean, you reamed me out for screwing up the Edwards chain of evidence. I knew I had to have something solid before you'd believe me, and I need you to be on my side for this, Alex."  Olivia's voice was low as her feet kept up their frantic pace along the sidewalk. "Emma's gonna go crazy and I can't do this alone."

"Olivia, what's going on? What didn't you tell me?" The frantic undertone was testament to how Olivia's hurried words had worried Alex.

"I'll explain everything," Olivia promised softly. "Meet me at Emma's in fifteen minutes."

"All right." Alex grabbed her bag from between the wall and the door and hurried to the front of her building. She quickly hailed a cab, and leapt out of it just as quickly as it stopped in front of Emma's apartment. Olivia was already waiting for her, and it was obvious she hadn't slept. Alex raised her eyebrows, both in confusion and as an imploratory gesture for information.

Olivia didn't say a word, combing through her tousled hair with her hand, trying to rake the mess into some semblance of order. She eyed her put-together counterpart and had to shake her head as they headed into the apartment building.

They said nothing as the elevator ascended to Emma's apartment, and the silence continued as Alex rapped on her sister's door. Emma opened it swiftly, her expression similar in content to her older sister's. She opened the door wordlessly, allowing both women to pass, and lingered in her entry hallway before she broke the cloak of silence draped over them. "So what's the big secret?"

"Mark gone to work?" Olivia asked conversationally.

"I was just heading out, Liv." Mark appeared from the bedroom. "Getting a late start today." His smile seemed genuine but Olivia felt a chill run down her spine as she faked a smile.

"Happens to the best of us," she said lightly. "Do you and Emma have plans tonight?" Olivia added, to cover her first question.

"Not that I know of." Mark bent to give Emma a kiss goodbye. "You planning something?"

"Oh, I just wanted to test out my new portable grill; thought maybe we could do burgers?" Olivia thought her plastic smile, held in place by sheer will, wouldn't have fooled a kindergartener.

Mark grinned back, head tilted, wondering at Olivia's expression. "Sounds great," he volunteered for himself and Emma. "Sevenish?"

"Great."

Mark waved at the three as he stepped into the hall, lingering outside the closed apartment door a little longer than necessary. Something wasn't right.

Emma waited until the front door clicked shut before lowering her voice. "I couldn't get him out of here fast enough. Sorry about that." She emerged further into the living room and sat on her couch, looking up at her sister and the detective. "So, again I ask, what's the big secret?"

Olivia waited a long moment before speaking. "Okay, what I'm going to say is going to freak you out - no question. But I need you both to be calm and rational, and listen to the evidence before you dismiss it. Okay?" The detective glanced between the sisters, waiting for some kind of acknowledgement.

"Fine," Emma answered for both of them, seemingly unaware that her sister was also in the dark.

Olivia explained the events of the past few days, starting with Emma's receipt of the note, and ending with the content of the conversations Rhodes had relayed to her and Munch the day before. She waited, breath held, for a reaction.

Emma sat, eyes dulled with confusion, staring at Olivia. Finally, she turned to her sister, whose brain was processing the information at a thousand miles per hour. "Let me get this straight," Emma finally said, voice hoarse. "You think Mark orchestrated my kidnapping?"

Alex shook her head momentarily, looking between Olivia and Emma. "This is the first I've heard the details," Alex confessed. She turned fully to Olivia. "You're sure?"

"As sure as I can be. We didn't get any latents or DNA off the note," Olivia said, slipping into coptalk, "but we're processing some trace evidence that got filed two years ago."

Alex gingerly rubbed a hand over her mouth, contemplating what Olivia was telling them. "And you think you can take Rhodes at his word?"

Emma leapt off the couch before Olivia had a chance to even form a reply. "Wait a minute, wait a minute. Just hang on one damn second. Do not tell me, Alexandra, that you believe this garbage."

Alex looked at her sister sympathetically. "Emma—"

"No. No. This is bullshit." Emma started to shake with anger, her teeth clenched. "You think this man, this wonderful man who has cared for me, came back when I needed him the most - and stayed - this man, who has made me happier than I've ever been in my entire life...you think this is the man who was the mastermind behind the two most terrifying days of my--?" Emma's chin started to tremble as her sentence hung around them.

"Honey, maybe Olivia has a point—"

"Damn it, Alexandra, listen to yourself!" Emma's scream surprised Alex, and she took half a step back from her sister. "Why are you defending her? I'm your sister!"

"Wait a minute," Alex said sternly. "I am not defending anyone over anyone else. I just don't think we should dismiss this so easily."

"You are fucking unbelievable, Alex." Emma shook her head and sat back down on the couch, teeth still bared in anger. Finally, she looked up at Olivia, eyes ablaze with fury. "Why didn't you figure this out two years ago, Columbo? Are you that bored over there that you have to destroy a victim's life a second time? Or maybe you wanted to impress your girlfriend a little more, so you took a little of your so-called evidence and decided to try and prove Alex right. She's never liked Mark. So here was your big chance to prove her right."

Forcing herself to speak around the lump of guilt in her throat, Olivia crossed the distance and sank onto the couch beside Emma. "Em," she said softly, "the last thing in the world I ever wanted was to hurt you. And if you knew how hard Alex wants to fight me right now, you'd never think I was impressing anyone with this. I hate thinking Mark had anything to do with what happened to you, honey, but the fact is that there are lots of loose ends and unexplained evidence." Olivia paused for breath. "Emmy," she said softly, "I love you like you're my own sister, and I'd do anything to make this untrue. But you're right. I didn't do my job thoroughly two years ago, and now you're paying the price." Olivia's sincerity was reflected in the hurt pooling in her dark eyes. "I'm so sorry."

Emma had to turn away from Olivia's eyes for a moment, before looking back at the detective, gaze still steel. "Prove it to me now, Detective Benson." The words were venomous and still strong. "What evidence, other than the dubious word of a felon, do you have that my husband was involved in this?"

"We're processing the trace evidence from Kelleher's trial," Olivia said, trying to maintain a business face. "We have the cat hair that was found in your apartment when you were kidnapped.  Our lab techs are going to compare that to a sample from Max's cat, and one from Louie, if you'll consent to give us one."

"He's under the bed. You're welcome to him, if you can hold him still. What else?" Emma's discomfort as the information hit her started to manifest itself in her posture, as she started to fidget, pushing her hair behind her ear. Finally, she steadied herself with folded arms across her chest.

Trying not to be hurt by Emma's biting tone, Olivia continued. "Kelleher called me and Alex at the restaurant, an hour or so before we found you, remember?"

"Yeah. He held the phone up to my ear and I talked to you and Allie. What about it?"

The gasp that came out of Alex's mouth was shattered. "Oh, shit." The attorney looked from Olivia to her sister. "How did he know we were there, Emma? If he was on the boat with you the whole time, how would he have known we were at that restaurant?"

Emma's breathing became more labored, more panicky as she fought for an answer. "Well, he drugged me pretty good on that boat. Maybe he left and then came back."

"He didn't have time, Em," Olivia replied, aching to wrap her arms around both the Cabot women and hold on for dear life. "It took us twenty-five minutes to get to the pier, sirens blaring. It would've taken Kelleher at least thirty-five, considering traffic, and he beat us there."

Emma covered her mouth with a shaky hand, and as the tears started, her sister moved over to the couch and wrapped an arm around her baby sister. Emma allowed the comfort for a minute before pushing Alex away in favor of pacing her living room. "What if Peter did have another flunky, like Max? It doesn't necessarily have to be Mark. And you didn't find any fingerprints on that letter, so you still don't have a forensic tie to him."

"The cat hair is a big clue," Olivia reminded her. "If it's Louie's, it'll prove that Mark had the cat before he gave it to you, and that he was in your apartment the night you were taken."

"He said he just got it at Christmas," Emma defended. "I still believe him. And besides," she countered, arms still crossed, "how would he have been able to contact Peter? I hadn't talked to them for years before I even met Mark."

Alex sighed and broke in, her pleading eyes meeting Emma's tired, determined stare. "I know you talked to Mark all the time about Peter, and I'm sure you used first and last names. All Mark needed to do was call information and get the phone number."

Emma's face crumbled as she lashed out at her sister again. "Stop it! Stop it, Alexandra!" Emma stormed over to the door and threw it open, looking back at the two women still sitting on her couch. "Get out! GET OUT!"

Olivia stood and steeled herself against Emma's backlash. Stepping between Alex and her sister, Olivia made her voice firm. "Emma Katherine, you need to stop and think about this rationally. We're just trying to protect you from any possibility that you're in danger."

"Screw you," Emma seethed, but she let the door fall shut. "You still haven't convinced me," she added unnecessarily.

"Was there anything else, Olivia?" Alex asked, her voice low.

Nodding, Olivia said, "There's one more thing. Em, has Mark purchased any latex gloves recently?"

Emma's chin raised, her eyes gleaming with victory. "Nope. He says gloves make him itch. You can check the bathroom if you want." But as quickly as her eyes turned bright with success, they fell a thousand stories into despair, and she grasped on to the wall for support.

Alex was up and at her side instantaneously. "Emma? Emma, talk to me."

"He said he didn't like the gloves, so he got the liquid kind instead."

The whisper was so faint that Alex had to work it over in her head before she could utter a response. "He has liquid latex?"

"In his desk," Emma confirmed. "Oh, God. I picked it up for him the week before I got the letter."

Olivia joined the sisters, resting her hand on Emma's shoulder. "I'm going to get the bottle," she said. "I'll have the lab match it against the latex trace we found on the envelope; then we'll know for sure either way." She squeezed Emma's shoulder. "I'm sorry, honey. This is all my fault." Olivia made the admission with quiet honesty tinged by guilt that no comfort could assuage. "And I'm going to fix it." She turned to Alex, fishing a plastic bag out of her pocket. "Alex, can you find Louie and get me a hair sample? Emma needs to start packing."

"Of course," Alex replied, guiding her sister into the bedroom. With Emma's help, she trapped the unamused cat and petted him a few times, getting enough hair for a good comparison. As Louie scampered back under the bed, meowing with indignity, Alex moved to Emma's closet and pulled out her duffel bag, throwing necessities into it. "I want you to go to my place for the rest of the day," she ordered in her no-nonsense ADA tone. "You are not to come back here without a police escort, do you hear me?"

Emma, sitting on the edge of the bed, nodded mutely. "I need to go to the restaurant," she replied weakly. "We have inspectors today."

"Someone else needs to handle it," Alex replied, zipping the bag up.

Emma shook her head. "I'll be fine, I promise. I'll tell the staff not to let Mark in if they see him. The inspector won't talk to anyone but me, and we're already three weeks behind schedule."

"Emma Katherine—"

Emma held up her hand. "Alex, I really can't do this right now. I need normalcy. I will go, have my meeting with the inspector, and then I'll go straight to your place. I'll call you every step of the way, I promise."

"I don't think it's a good idea." Alex tried one more time, even though the patented glare her sister was giving her informed her that her protests were to no avail.

"Alex, please."

Alex sighed, handing her sister the duffel. "Straight to my place, okay?"

Emma rose. "I promise."

The sisters headed back into the living room, and Alex handed Olivia the evidence bag containing some of the cat fur. "Let's get this to evidence."

Having heard most of the conversation, Olivia took the bag from Alex with a slight nod. "I'm gonna take this down personally and make sure it's rush priority. Are you going to be okay getting to the restaurant on your own?"

Emma nodded. "I'll be fine. And I'll call both of you when I get to the restaurant, and when I get to Allie's."

"Good." Olivia squeezed Emma's shoulder again, deciding to forgo the hug until both their emotions had settled a little more. "Be careful."

"I will. You guys go ahead; I want to make sure Louie has enough food and water for a little while."

Alex offered a small smile at her sister, who weakly returned it as she moved into the kitchen. Alex heard her bustling about and finally headed back into the building's hallway. She leaned against the wall, her chin dropping to her chest. "Son of a bitch."

"I know." Stepping forward, Olivia held out her arms for Alex, wondering as she did so if the other woman wanted anything more to do with her now. She was, at the end of the day, the cause of her sister's heartache.

Alex did indeed seek refuge in the comfort of Olivia's arms, cradling her head in the crook between Olivia's neck and shoulder. She wrapped her arms around the other woman's slender waist, closing her eyes as she took a deep, allegedly calming breath. "Do me a favor," she said, her voice vibrating against Olivia's collarbone.

"Anything."

Alex leaned back and fell into Olivia's gaze, her arms still wrapped around the detective's waist. "Stop blaming yourself. We all wanted it to be Kelleher - and it was Kelleher. He's still guilty of kidnapping her and raping her. We didn't have enough to tie Mark to the plot back then, but now we do, and we're taking care of it. You've done nothing wrong. Got it?"

Pushing Alex away gently, Olivia shook her head, turning to leave. "I'll come to your place tonight, if I can."

"Okay," Alex replied, following Olivia to the elevators. As they descended to the street level, Alex couldn't find anything to say to Olivia on a personal level, so she opted for the professional level instead. "Call me when you get the results on the latex and the cat hair."

* * *

The fear that had settled in Alex's chest was one she hadn't felt since Emma's disappearance two years earlier. She couldn't catch a breath, and yet, she felt like she was hyperventilating. She hurriedly dialed Olivia's extension, her command of "Pick up, pick up", slurred with adrenaline.

"Benson."

"It's me. Have you heard from Emma?"

"No. You haven't either?" Olivia asked worriedly. "I thought she just forgot to call me."

"I've been calling her cell and the apartment for the last hour. She's not answering either line. I finally tracked down her assistant at the restaurant, and she said Emma never showed this morning." Alex waved her assistant away, extending the phone cord around her desk and kicking the door shut. "They want me in court for an arraignment in two minutes. Can you go to the apartment and check on her for me?"

Olivia motioned Munch over to her desk. "I'm surrounded by latex samples. I'll have Munch and Elliot go; I'll call as soon as they call me, okay?"

"Thank you." Alex disconnected, and hurried to the elevator and her arraignment, her mind far away from bail amounts.

"What's up?" Munch queried, leaning against Olivia's desk.

Olivia sighed, leaning back in her chair and looking up at him. "Emma was supposed to call me and Alex when she got to work. That was over an hour ago, and she hasn't called or shown up. Can you take Elliot and go check up on her?"

"Of course." In the time that had passed since Emma's return, the old, crotchety detective and the young, vivacious quick wit had struck up an odd sort of friendship. Just as Cragen and Olivia did, Munch had a protectiveness attached to Emma; she was one of the only cases he had really allowed himself to get attached to. Munch strode out of the bullpen and caught Elliot returning back to his desk. "You're with me."

They arrived at Emma's apartment fifteen minutes later, and after a cursory search of the surrounding alleys, they got the super to let them in. Munch made it to Emma's door first, and started knocking. "Emma!"

Elliot shushed Munch. "Didja hear that?" he asked quietly. The soft gasping moan was repeated and Elliot's face set into a fierce growl. "One," he mouthed. "Two, three." On three, he threw the weight of his body against his shoulder, thrusting against the door. The wood splintered under his weight.

Gun drawn, Munch entered the apartment first, ready to shoot anything and everything that got in his way. "Clear!" he called to Elliot, searching the living room. He heard the soft groaning sound again, and followed it behind the overstuffed chair placed in front of the window. Emma Cabot lay bloody and bruised against the side of the chair, only half-conscious. "Emma," Munch whispered, cupping her cheek. "Emma, can you talk to me?" Emma's black eyes fluttered, and she sighed again. Munch looked back to the front door, and called again to Elliot, "Get an ambulance here."

Dialing 911, Elliot relayed the address and Emma's condition before securing the rest of the apartment. "Bastard got away," he informed Munch, helping lift Emma onto the couch.

"Emmy," Munch whispered, smoothing the blood-soaked strands of once-blonde hair away from her forehead, "can you tell me what happened?"

Emma took several wheezing breaths, and Munch couldn't help but wince; it was obvious whoever had done this had broken her ribs and potentially clipped her lung in the process. "M—Mark," she finally managed, opening her eyes in a moment of clarity. "He's...coming..."

"Shh," Elliot said, rubbing her right forearm, the only part of Emma without a bruise. "Never mind, don't talk, you're gonna make it worse." He made eye contact with Munch, warning the other man with a look. "You'll be fine, sweetie." The whine of ambulances could be heard in the background.

"Alex—" Emma tried one more time, before Munch shook his head. "Elliot's right. You just rest." Emma's eyes closed, and for a heart-stopping second, Munch thought she might have stopped breathing. But the wheezing continued as Emma was loaded onto a stretcher.

"Which one of you wants to go with her?" The EMT asked as his partner wheeled Emma to the elevator.

"I'll go," Munch volunteered. Turning to Elliot, he said, "You'll call Benson?"

"Right before I track Miller down and—" Elliot let the threat dangle in the air. Leaning around the EMTs, he brushed a hand over Emma's fingers. "It's okay, Emma. Olivia and I will take care of him," Elliot echoed his partner's earlier sentiment. As soon as the ambulance had gone, he dialed Olivia's desk.  "She was here, beaten to hell and back," he said without preamble.

"Fuck," Olivia whispered. "Is—how is she?"

"I think her ribs are broken, but she was coherent." Elliot sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "We really dropped the ball, Liv."

"Yeah. I've gotta let Alex know. They take her to Columbia?" Olivia asked.

"Yup. Alex's gonna want to go to the hospital, so maybe Donnelly can get us the arrest warrant. Emma IDed Mark as soon as she came to. She thinks he's coming back, and when he does, I'd like to be prepared - for once." Elliot cursed himself for missing the evidence that had been there all along.

"Gotcha. Thanks, Elliot." Olivia hung up and practically sprinted to Alex's office, calling Donnelly's office on the way.  She arrived breathless and barely able to think.

The knock at her door nearly startled her into a gasp, but after a quick clearing of the throat, Alex called, "Come in."

Olivia stepped in, fighting a rush of emotion as she faced Alex's worried eyes.

Alex was out of her chair so fast it hit the wall behind her with a thud. "Anything?"

"They found Emma," Olivia began slowly. "She was pretty badly beaten."

"Jesus," Alex breathed. She grabbed her coat off the back of her chair. "Where is she?"

"Columbia Presbyterian. Alex, I hate to ask it, but we need a warrant, and Donnelly's not in," Olivia winced.

"No, of course. Um..." Alex turned in a circle for a minute, trying to get her mind in order. She moved over to her filing cabinet, trying to create some semblance of detachment. She bent her head after a minute and took a deep breath. "Is someone with her?"

"Munch went in the ambulance. You know he won't let her out of his sight." Olivia took a few steps closer, pressing a hand to Alex's back as she bent over the files. "I'm sorry, honey. But Elliot says she should be okay."

Alex nodded, taking the warrant request out of her files. She sat back down at her desk, dialing Judge Petrovsky's chambers. "Hi, Amanda, this is Alex Cabot. Yeah, I'm going to need Her Honor's signature on an arrest, search and records warrant. Five minutes? Thanks." Alex made sure not to look at Olivia as she filled out the request; if she had, the personal nature would have hit home so hard, there would be no turning back, she was sure.

She finished the requisite information and again grabbed her jacket, motioning for Olivia to follow her. "I'm going to argue briefly, and I'll pass the warrant on to you immediately, okay? Just wait outside her chambers for me."

"Okay. Alex?"

Alex stopped her hurried pace and turned to face the brunette. "Yeah?"

"I'm sorry." The guilt was evident in Olivia's eyes. "If I could take her place..."

Alex shook her head immediately, rising up one step and staring Olivia straight in the eye. "I might arguably be more affected than I am right now," Alex replied, mostly without thinking. She brushed her hand against Olivia's before she continued. "You remember the Cavanaugh case?"

"Yeah." Olivia tried not to react to Alex's declaration.

"You told me my guilt wouldn't change anything. Well, now I'm throwing your words back at you. You couldn't - you couldn't have known." They both knew that there was one minor detour that could have potentially stopped Mark, but now that the damage was done, there was no reason to harp on it. "She needs you to be strong; she needs her angel, remember?" Alex lowered her voice again. "I need you to be strong."

Drawing a deep breath, Olivia shook her head with a wry smile. "How do you do that?" she asked, as they walked down the hall toward the judge's office.

Alex had to meet Olivia's smile. "Do what?"

"Make me feel like a hero." Not waiting for an answer, Olivia leaned over and kissed Alex gently.

"I'll be right back," Alex said quietly, brushing her hand against Olivia's before knocking on the door. True to her word, Alex emerged in less than five minutes with comprehensive warrants for Mark. "Kick his ass for me."

"That's ironic," Olivia said as she took the warrants. "That's the same thing Mark said about Peter yesterday."

"Well, let's show him we follow through." Alex raised her eyebrows in solidarity and strength. "I'm going to Columbia now. Call me on my cell if you need me, okay?"

"Okay. Give Em my best." Olivia turned and strode off, her exhaustion from having two hours' sleep in the past two days evident in her slowed pace.

* * *

Munch returned to SVU headquarters about an hour later, after Alex had settled in for Emma's overnight observation. "She's got two broken ribs, a concussion, and a lot of bruising, inside and out. But she'll be fine, and out of the hospital by tomorrow afternoon. Alex is staying with her tonight," he told the squad. "No need for a ventilator."

"Thank God," Elliot replied. "Liv's got the warrants."

"Let's go," Munch said, his determination evident. "Any idea on where he is?" He turned to Olivia, for it was obvious to all involved that matters involving Emma were her territory.
Slipping into lead-investigator mode, Olivia nodded thoughtfully. "Chances are he's at work, establishing his alibi. Mark doesn't know that Emma was supposed to contact me," she explained as they headed out to the car, "so he probably thinks that we think Emma's still at work. That way, if he's at work, he can claim he's been there since he left this morning." Olivia worried she'd stopped making sense.

"Where's he work?" Munch asked, climbing in the back of the sedan.

"Kamisky, Baines and Charge, Esquires," Elliot supplied as he revved the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. "He's a paralegal."

"Lawyers. I knew he was dirty," Munch replied.

They pulled to a screeching halt in front of the high-rise, Elliot and Munch hot on Olivia's heels, and ten officers trailing behind them. They didn't need that much manpower to take one man into custody, and all of them knew that. They also knew that you never messed with family and got away with it.

Elliot stopped the firm's secretary from impeding the investigation as Olivia brushed past them, looking for Mark's office.

Throwing the door open more dramatically than technically necessary, Olivia strode past the stunned client to Mark's side. "Excuse me for interrupting," she apologized perfunctorily to the attorney, "but your assistant is under arrest. Mark Miller, I have a warrant for your arrest for the assault and battery of Emma Cabot this morning. Put your hands behind your back." Olivia stepped over to Mark, handcuffs dangling from one hand as her colleagues crowded around the door, making a powerful spectacle.

"What the hell?" Mark raised his shoulder and fought momentarily against Olivia before she overpowered him and slapped the cuffs around his wrists. "Her name is Emma Miller, for one." He continued to scoff, looking at Munch and Stabler enjoying the hell out of him being arrested. "Olivia, this is me. What are you talking about, assault and battery?"

"She's in the hospital, asshole," Olivia seethed through her teeth. "Your wife has two broken ribs and a concussion, and you're under arrest. Anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law." Olivia Mirandized him with a flat voice, tightening the cuffs a little to watch Mark squirm.

"What?" Mark stumbled as Olivia hauled him out into the hallway, and he fought momentarily against Elliot as the other detective placed him in a headlock.

"Stop resisting, Mark, before we add that to your rap sheet," Elliot growled.

"That's police brutality!" the secretary cried.

"No," Munch muttered to himself, "that's justice."

"Hey, Mark, you want a lawyer?" Olivia added as they dragged him out of the office. "Better holler for one now. Don't know when we can get you a phone."

"You can't honestly think I did anything wrong, Olivia," Mark protested as Elliot shoved him in the back of a squad car. "Besides, Emma can't testify against me. As you so eloquently stated, she's my wife."

Olivia snorted derisively. "You really should've gone to law school," she informed Mark, her arm resting on the door. "Emma can't be forced to testify against you. If she chooses to, you can't stop her." She slammed the door and thumped her hand on the trunk; the boys of the two-seven drove Mark to booking.

* * *

"Docket number 556014, people versus Mark Jason Miller, assault in the first degree, battery in the first degree, spousal abuse in the first degree."

"Joseph Kamisky for the defense, Your Honor."

"Adam Naughton representing the People."

From her seat in the gallery, Alex kept her white knuckles in her lap; she wanted nothing more than to be prosecuting this case. But Petrovsky had warned her earlier in the day; she could request the warrants, but Alex was to be nowhere near the bar when the arraignment started. Alex heard the door behind her open and she looked up, grateful when Olivia's eyes met hers.

Taking her seat silently, Olivia freed one of Alex's hands from her death grip and held it gently.

Alex laced her fingers with Olivia's, her eyes never moving from Mark's back.

"How does the defendant plead?"

"Before entering a plea, Your Honor, the defense requests that Her Honor recuse herself, given the fact that she signed the warrants from the victim's sister, Assistant District Attorney Cabot."

"I sign hundreds of warrants a week, Counselor. This one was no different. Motion denied. Plea?"

"Not guilty," Mark replied strongly, and Alex could see his chin high in the air.

"Bail, Mr. Naughton?"

"Request remand, Your Honor."

Kamisky was objecting before Petrovsky could even draw a breath to deny the request. "Your Honor, my client is a first time offender. Remand is ridiculous in this case."

"I'm inclined to agree. I will hear bail amounts from the People."

Naughton, a newer, more easily flustered ADA, finally threw out a bail amount. "Five hundred thousand.  Cash, Your Honor."

Petrovsky beat Kamisky to the punch in denying the motion, sending Alex's head back in defeat. "That's excessive, Mr. Naughton, and you know it."

"Your Honor, Emma Cabot Miller is lying in a hospital bed, bloody and bruised—"

"Then why isn't there a charge of attempted murder?" Petrovsky shook her head. "On the charges in front of me, I'm ordering $2,000 bail, payable by cash or bond. Next case."

Olivia swore under her breath. She caught Mark's eye as he turned to leave the courtroom. Her vicious glare warned him that if he set foot near Emma, he wouldn't live to regret it.

THE END