When Elliot wakes up, he's alone. He gets out the bed checking his three bedroom apartment and comes up empty. Olivia's not there. When he goes to the bathroom he finds a sticky note taped to the mirror.

It simply reads, "Thanks, Liv."

He can't say he blames her for leaving before he woke up. The morning after a one night stand is difficult enough. But with their history, to her the idea was probably completely nerve-wracking. It doesn't stop him from being pissed, hurt at being used.

He's supposed to be driving her to work this morning. The note didn't mention anything about not picking her up so he assumes they're still on.

After he showers and dresses he checks his cell phone to see if she's left him a message maybe saying she'll take a taxi or the train in. There's nothing, nada, zilch so he heads over to her apartment.

A long time neighbor of Olivia's notices him and lets him into her building after they've exchanged pleasantries.

When he gets off the elevator onto the fourth floor he hears screaming coming from behind one of the doors. As he gets closer to her apartment, he realizes it's where the noise is coming from.

Inside the apartment, Olivia and Michael are standing in front of one another in her living room arguing. He came groveling a little while ago with orange juice, fruit and her favorite croissants. Unfortunately, she wasn't impressed or in a forgiving mood.

"You had one foot in and one foot out of this relationship any way Olivia!"

"You are not going to blame me for this!" She says, pointing a finger in his face.

"I'm not blaming you but at least Lorna was emotionally available!"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You're still hung up on him Liv! You never let him go!" he says, throwing his hands up.

"Who in the hell are you talking about!"

"You know damned well who I'm talking about! Your ex partner for God sakes! You've even said his name in your fucking sleep!" he yells, pacing away from her.

"For one, I'm not responsible for what I say while I'm unconscious and for two, if I'm so hung up on him, then why have I been with your sorry ass for seven months?"

"I don't know. I have been screwing your brains out all over this damned apartment!"

She looks for and finds a hardcover book to hurl at him.

"You arrogant son of a bitch! You think I was just with you for sex? How desperate do you think I am? I cared about you until I found you screwing Lorna's brains out on that damned roof last night!"

"I explained that!" He tells her, after ducking Dante's Inferno.

"That explanation didn't amount to shit! She was just an itch you never got around to scratching!"

"I told you it wasn't like that!"

"Look," she begins, taking a breath. "You cheated, you got caught and now we're over so leave," she says in a calmer voice.

Michael watches as she walks away from him to stand at her window. He can't help but notice the difference in her gait since last he saw her.

"Where'd you go last night after you left?"

"What does that matter?" she asks, not bothering to face him.

"Because we haven't had sex since Saturday and you're walking like you've been riding a fuckin' bull that's what."

Olivia finally turns around and stares at him in disbelief.

"Get out."

He looks at her with a knowing smirk.

"What I did last night with Lorna must've been of great relief to you," he starts. "You were looking for an excuse to bail and you found one."

"I told you to leave," she says, raising her voice.

"You were waiting for the other shoe to drop and it finally did," he continues. "You went to him last night didn't you? Just friends huh? Just partners huh? My ass!"

"Now!" she screams, pointing at her front door.

"Fine!" he yells back, opening the door forcefully. "You are such a fucking hypocrite!" he throws over his shoulder. "And by the way, that makeup is doing nothing to cover up the hickie he left on your neck!" he yells, slamming the door shut behind him.

Michael brushes passed a very surprised Elliot, not bothering to excuse himself or apologize.

"Good fucking luck," he snidely says to the detective before continuing down the hall with his trash bag full of belongings.

Elliot is tempted to go back down to the car and pretend like he didn't hear all of what half the building has probably heard. But just as he's about to turn and walk away, her door opens and she steps out.

"Elliot," she nearly gasps, leaning against the door.

Given the fact that he has absolutely no frame of reference in their relationship's history for an appropriate response, he keeps it simple.

"Hey."

"Hey," she mimics.

He hands her the coffee and then turns silently towards the elevators again, knowing she'll follow. It's the longest, most tension filled elevator ride he thinks he's ever had.

Elliot unlocks the doors and they slide into their respective seats. He hesitates before turning the ignition.

"Liv-

"Please just…drive Elliot."

-VIII-

The car ride is silent all the way to the 1-3. Once they arrive, Elliot does the talking to the captain as they coordinate with the NY State Police to search Curtner's property.

He doesn't relish the idea of driving an hour and a half upstate with Olivia knowing everything that's happened between them but he has no choice. He tries to quell his own anger knowing how unproductive they'll be if they're both pissed. She's been more than quiet as they get on the road.

"Have you heard from Calvin lately?"

"Yeah, he's doing okay."

"Good…that's good."

Every now and then he looks at her. She's intently focused on the world gliding past her window seemingly in her own little universe. No doubt she's thinking of the blow up she had with Michael this morning or the sex she and Elliot had last night.

She rejected him for Michael and got hurt and according to her ex she wasn't fully committed. He hates wondering why that is. He hates that he doesn't want to just screw her against a door, that he wants to make love to her in so many ways, so many times and in so many places that she'll forget her own name and Michael's too.

But what he hates the most is that she was buzzed and angry when she came to him last night.

"We should interview Natalie Tripp when we get back," he suggests, trying to distract his thoughts.

"Yeah."

"I doubt that she was just gone for a several days because she was hanging out with friends."

"Right."

"I think I'll get my nipples pierced tomorrow," he says, momentarily looking over at her.

"Okay."

"Earth to Detective Benson."

"Huh?"

"Have you been listening?"

"No, I'm sorry. What were you saying?" She asks, turning her head to face him.

"I was just saying that we should talk to Natalie Tripp when we get back."

"Ok."

"Are we ever gonna talk about it?" he asks, garnering her instant annoyance.

"Do you really expect me to talk to you about my very loud and very embarrassing break-up?"

"I was talking about last night." he corrects her, feeling his own anger creep back in.

"I don't think talking about that is a very good idea right now Elliot. I'm sure you and half of Jersey probably heard every insult and accusation of my breakup this morning."

"I didn't-

"Don't lie to me Elliot," she says, cutting him off.

He's about to but decides against it. She'd see through anything he'd tell her anyway.

"It's too bad then. You seemed happy," he offers.

"I was," she responds quietly.

"I'm sorry."

"Are you?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing…just…forget I said anything," she suggests. "And you can stop staring at me like I'm gonna burst into tears because I'm not."

"I'd expect nothing less," he begins. "You're obviously colder and rougher around the edges than I remember."

Olivia eyes him for a moment before deciding she doesn't want to get into another argument. It's too damned early and her head is already hurting from the last one plus the booze from last night. She leans forward to root around in the glove box for the aspirin he usually keeps there.

Knowing her as well as he does, he pops the center console and hands her the bottle.

"Thanks," she mumbles, popping two with her now cold coffee.

The rest of the ride is silent as they follow two state cars to Curtner's place. Once they arrive two of the troopers take the larger house to search. Elliot, Olivia and another set of troopers make their way behind that property to the one they were held in.

They let the troopers search the upper level, going on a hunch that everything they're looking for is in the basement.

The detectives descend the stairs and turn on the overhead florescent shop lights. As they buzz then flicker on, they know the hunch has paid off.

Curtner was apparently made to relieve himself there because of the strong stench of stale urine. One of the pillars in the basement has dried droplets of blood on it. There are two more sets of zip ties no doubt used to bind him at his ankles and wrists.

Melinda's preliminary report showed bruising to his knees so he was more than likely made to kneel. That position in and of itself after a time, is torture enough.

They notice more droplets of blood on the surrounding floor as they continue to look around. Olivia finds his torn, dirty clothing thrown into a corner.

"I'm pretty sure this is the primary crime scene," she comments, toeing the pile.

She notices that Elliot hasn't said a word since they entered the basement. He's staring at the other pillar, the one she was tied to.

"Elliot," she says, putting on a pair of latex gloves.

"What?"

"You okay?" she asks, pausing in her actions.

"Um…yeah…yeah fine," he says, shaking his head as if to dislodge his thoughts. He was right back there with Curtner having to watch him assault his partner.

Olivia knows where his mind went because hers went to the same place. She remembers anger, then fear, then desperation as she nearly dislocated her shoulder trying to get free from the psychopath's bindings.

"At least there aren't any wolves this time right?" She asks, squatting down next to the pile of clothing.

"Right…yeah," he answers, managing a small smile.

Times like these are when he misses her the most. He doubts his new partner would've known that such a simple question would return his focus.

Olivia sifts through Curtner's clothes, examining a jacket first. She notices two small burn holes, no doubt from the stun gun used to subdue him. She moves on to his pants as Elliot looks for evidence in other areas of the basement. In going through the pockets she comes across Natalie Tripp's Hudson University school I.D.

"Look what I found," she tells him, getting his attention.

He walks over to her as she stands up.

"I guess we know where we're going next."

As Olivia gets on the phone to call CSU to process the scene, Elliot notices that one of the hammers likely used to crush the serial rapist's fingers is lying on the woodworker's bench. He puts on gloves before bagging it along with several other tools that have been left out instead of being replaced on their hooks.

Unfortunately he misses a key detail in the bench.

-VIII-

Olivia decides to drive back when it's time for them to leave. Her theory is if she's focused on the road and the case, it'll help get the mental picture of Michael screwing another woman out of her mind's eye. She was only with him for seven months but she cared about him deeply. She's half hurt and half pissed for not acting on her gut feeling that something was up. He was just too…perfect.

And those accusations he made regarding her former partner. She's still hung up on him? She wasn't emotionally there for Michael because of it? Had one foot in and one foot out of the relationship? What kind of Dr. Phil bullshit was that?

Hopefully Michael still isn't the gossipy type. The world doesn't need to know she had sex with Elliot last night, even if her ex has no proof of it. People who listen to that type of garbage don't exactly ask for sworn affidavits or physical evidence.

Speaking of which, she still feels it in the ache between her legs, sees it in the bruises she has on her hips and the bite mark he left on her left breast. Eye contact has been difficult with him today. And damn MAC for not making better concealer.

Olivia wanted things with Michael to work out. At least that's what she's telling herself. Short of having his name tattooed on her left butt cheek, she was definitely invested in the relationship. But with the intense, animalistic way she and Elliot went at each other last night, she's not altogether certain.

Perhaps Michael came into her life at a convenient enough time not to have to face her feelings for Elliot. But just because she wasn't Chatty Kathy blubbering all over his shoulder every night, doesn't mean she wasn't in the relationship. Apparently to Michael it did. Well screw him then.

"Screw who?" Elliot asks, pulling her from her thoughts.

That last part she must've said out loud.

"Nobody," she lies.

"Right," he says. "You should loosen your grip on the steering wheel if you want me to believe that."

She can feel him eying her even from behind his sunglasses. After a few moments he refocuses on looking over the case files on Curtner.

"Listen Elliot. About last night…," she tries, unable to find the words.

The sex they had was not exactly something they've done with one another in the past. She's not sorry it happened but it's something they need to discuss.

"I was-

"Hurt, angry and using me to get revenge on Michael," he interrupts.

Her neck momentarily snaps in his direction before she has to refocus on the road or drive into oncoming traffic.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"You guess so? I have the scratches on my back and the bite mark on my shoulder to prove it."

"You gave as well as you got Elliot. Are you complaining now or trying to make me feel guilty?"

"Look, I wasn't trying to make you feel bad. You needed someone last night and I understood."

"Yeah but I shouldn't have gone to you for that."

"You should've taken some stranger home instead?"

"No. And you know I know better, so screw you."

"Yeah…I do," he says, apologetically. "But I'm not sorry you came to me."

"How can you say that after the way our partnership ended?"

"Contrary to what you may think, just because you hurt me doesn't mean I want you to hurt."

Olivia looks at him disbelievingly.

"In my experience that's exactly what it means Elliot. How could you not?"

He closes the folder that he's been looking through, takes off his sunglasses and gives her his undivided attention.

"Did it hurt when you started dating Michael? Yeah," he begins. "Was it gut wrenching watching you be happy with someone else? Of course," he continues. "And did it sting for you not to have said you loved me too? Hell yes," he asserts. "But if I were to add up all the pain you've had in your life already and measured it against the pain you've caused me, it wouldn't even come close Olivia. I think you've had enough."

She's fighting tears by the time he's finished. Elliot left a job he loved and lived for over twenty years so she could keep what happiness she found with Michael. And he held her in his arms all night despite the fact that she used him. No one has ever put her feelings above their own like he has. Yet and still, she hurt him by going to him last night and he's still not as pissed as he would've been in the past. It seems they've both changed.

"It's not your fault I developed feelings for you," he continues. "I tried staying mad because it helped me focus on the job better. But honestly, it takes too much energy."

She wishes he could've been so honest and forthright before Michael came into her life. This kind of directness could've saved them both a lot of time and pain. But now isn't the time to tell him that.

"Okay," she says. "Who are you and what have you done with Elliot Stabler?"

"I saw a therapist that Huang recommended for a little while after the transfer," he answers, donning his sunglasses again. "I learned that talking is less expensive and more productive than breaking things."

"It is," she says, pausing to consider her next statement. "You should know why I came to you last night," she tells him. If he's being so open, then she can too.

"Didn't we just cover that?"

"It wasn't just because I wanted revenge for what Michael did," she says, now realizing the truth for herself as well. "It's because I know I can still trust you.

He removes his sunglasses again to look her in the eyes.

"Then why didn't you stay?"

Olivia doesn't answer immediately as she returns her focus to the road. She doesn't want to tell him that what they did last night was what she'd wanted to do after his farewell party. That she thought having sex with him once would be enough to get him out of her system.

And, how very wrong she was.

She doesn't want to say how when she crawled in bed next to Elliot to sleep, she wanted him to take her all over again. But after goading him into doing her rough, hard and dirty up against his front door, Olivia knew he wouldn't do the same in his bed. Not the way he held her as they slept.

She woke up with him spooned up behind her, arm over her waist, her back nestled into his chest. His legs were intertwined with hers and his breaths were even and warm on the skin of her neck. When she realized how comfortably she always sleeps next to him, first she got scared and then she got the hell out of there.

"I thought…things would've been too…awkward," she says, safely. "And I needed to get home to change before work."

That excuse is about as lame as when she'd said things were too "complicated" to talk to him before she left for computer crimes.

"I get it," he says curtly, returning the glasses to his eyes once again. "And don't worry. I won't be stalking you once this case is over."

She knows she's done it again, hurt him…again. But at the moment there's nothing she can do about it.

-VIII-

They knock on Natalie Tripp's dormitory door and a young Asian woman answers looking annoyed. She's in a HU sweatshirt stained with pizza sauce, yoga pants and wearing two different socks. Her glasses are pushed forward to the tip of her nose and she has two ink pens sticking out of a messy bun of blonde streaked raven black hair.

"Can I help you?" she asks the detectives, sounding as if she'd rather do anything but.

"Yes," answers Elliot. "We're looking for Natalie Tripp. We were told she's assigned to this room."

"Was assigned to this room," says the girl, about to close the door in their faces.

Olivia puts her hand up stopping her.

"Do you have any idea where she's living now?"

"Aren't you detectives? Find her yourself," she smarts off. "I have a lot of studying to do."

"Well the sooner you tell us what we wanna know, the sooner we'll be out of your hair," suggests Elliot.

The girl looks between the two of them and then sighs exasperatedly before offering her assistance. She crosses her arms over her chest, leaning against the door frame.

"She left," she informs them. "Her mom came here after she was found and cleared out all her stuff," she adds, opening the door wide enough for them to see that half the room is undecorated and unlived in. "Said something about taking the rest of the semester off for some family time," she concludes, making air quotes with her fingers.

"Was she the type to run off with a boyfriend or be involved in drugs?" asks Olivia.

"Nat?" She questions, before laughing and shaking her head. "That girl was probably still a virgin. Didn't drink, didn't smoke, didn't do any drugs that I saw and kept her head in those science books of hers all the time."

"Science books?"

"Yeah Chemistry, Biology, Anatomy and Physiology," she tells them. "She was Pre-Med and taking honors level courses. Talk about pressure."

"What'd you think happened when she went missing?" asks Elliot.

"That she decided to finally give herself a break and let off some steam somewhere. She was wound kind of tight."

"Thank you. We'll let you get back to your studies now," Elliot says.

As the young girl closes the door, they turn to walk down the hall.

"She could've been the one to kill him El," offers Olivia. "A Pre-Med student gets plenty of practice cutting things open."

"I don't know," he says, hesitantly. "Natalie is 5'5, maybe 100lbs to 115lbs. Curtner was at least 6'2 210lbs," he tells her. "And he was beat to hell. So unless she secretly has a black belt in Karate, she had some help if she's the doer."

"We have to get her to say she was taken by Curtner in the first place before we turn our victim into our primary suspect," advises Olivia. "She could say she was visiting a friend or just lost her school I.D."

"And a serial rapist and murderer just happens to find it?" Elliot asks.

"Well when we find her, she can tell us."

-VIII-

When they arrive to the small brick house in Queens, they see an SUV in the driveway so hopefully someone's home.

Elliot rings the doorbell and they wait.

A woman that looks to be in her mid to late fifties, Olivia's height but heavier with platinum blonde short hair answers the door.

"Hi I'm Detective Stabler and this is my partner Detective Benson," he says and Olivia has to bite her bottom lip not to smile. "We're looking for Natalie Tripp."

"I'm her mom Janine. What's this about?"

"Do you mind if we come inside?" asks Olivia.

"Sure," she answers, welcoming them into her home.

The two detectives step into the living room but don't sit down.

"We know that Natalie was reported missing last week and we need to find out where she was."

"She's home safe now, so what different does it make?" asks Janine.

"A man was murdered Mrs. Tripp," informs Elliot. "And we found her school I.D. with his belongings."

"Well she must've lost it," she responds, seemingly nervous. "Nat was just hanging out with friends and forgot to check in. I guess I just overreacted in reporting her missing."

"We checked with Hudson and her roommate says she dropped out," Olivia tells her. "Why would she do that?"

"She's always put too much stress on herself and it was getting to her," Janine tells them. "So I told her to take some time off."

"In the middle of a semester?" asks Elliot.

"She's very smart. She can pick up her classes in the summer."

"It's important that we speak with her Mrs. Tripp," advises Olivia. "We need to verify her whereabouts in order to exclude her from the investigation."

"Exclude her?" she asks, shocked. "Natalie's no killer," says Janine. "She's one of the gentlest people you'll ever meet."

"We don't doubt that ma'am," Olivia tells her. "But we still need to rule her out."

"Okay. I'll go and get her."

Mrs. Tripp disappears upstairs to retrieve her daughter. While they're waiting Elliot takes notice of the pictures on the mantle above the fireplace. One shot in particular peaks his interest.

"I wonder who this is," he says to Olivia, showing her the picture as she comes to stand next to him.

The photo is a shot of Natalie a few years ago. When Elliot opens the back of the frame it reads, "Natalie age 15 with Uncle Reni on Career Day." It shows the young girl and a man dressed as a paramedic.

"My mom said you want to talk to me," says Natalie, surprising the two detectives. Elliot puts the picture back in its frame before returning it to the mantle.

The beautiful, vibrant, seemingly life loving girl depicted in all the photos has gone. In her place is a young woman with a down turned mouth, sad eyes and a guarded posture.

They both know a victim when they see one.

Her clothes are too big as if she's lost weight she didn't have to spare in the first place. She's wringing her hands and she doesn't make eye contact with Elliot but focuses on Olivia as if he's not in the room. She keeps tugging at the sleeves of her sweater like she's hiding what's underneath.

"Yes we do," Olivia says. "Do you mind if we sit?"

"Okay," the girl says, taking a seat in an armchair as Olivia sits on an adjacent sofa.

Elliot makes a point of remaining at the fireplace, away from the two women so he doesn't intimidate Natalie.

"Your mom says you were with friends the entire time you were gone," begins Olivia in a softened voice. "But we found your I.D. with the possessions of a very bad man."

They both watch and wait for the girl's response. She's stone faced but Olivia is close enough to see that her breathing has picked up.

"I lost it."

Liv opens a folder she's brought with her and retrieves Curtner's driver's license picture. She doesn't want to further traumatize her with a shot from the Coroner's office.

"So you've never seen or met this man before?"

Natalie cradles her face in her hands, adamantly shaking her head in the negative. The detectives instantly notice the red abrasions around both of her wrists, the reason she was tugging at her long sleeves.

"What did he do to you Natalie?" asks Olivia.

"Nothing," she says, standing abruptly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Then let me tell you what happened," Olivia offers. "He stalked you to learn your routine, got close enough to knock you out, then took you some place to-

"Don't say it. Please don't say it," she rasps.

"He was a serial rapist Natalie," Olivia tells her. "He killed three women."

"No, no, no." she repeats, as tears stream down her face.

Liv reaches for her hand to hold and wipes her tears with the other.

"We can help you," she says, squeezing her hand in comfort.

Janine comes into the room to check on them and the girl throws herself into her mother's arms. She stands there rocking her daughter and rubbing her back trying to calm her.

"I think you should leave now," says Mrs. Tripp.

"Your daughter needs counseling and she more than likely was a witness to a murder," advises Elliot. "We need her help."

"First you say you want to rule her out as a killer and now you're telling me you need her help because she may be a witness," reasons Natalie's mother. "The next time you want to talk to my daughter, do it through an attorney," she tells them, petting her daughter's hair. "Now please leave my home."

Elliot and Olivia do as they're told.

"That girl's gonna self destruct if she doesn't get some help soon," comments Olivia as they get back into the squad car. "And now we can't even talk to her to make her see that."

"We can if we have evidence she was there when he was killed," Elliot tells her, starting the car.

"And where are we gonna get this evidence Elliot?"

"From you Olivia," he informs her. "You wiped her tears so you still have her DNA on your hand. Put a glove on and we'll have Melinda swab you."

Olivia smiles as she shakes her head, grabbing a latex glove out of the center console.

"You think she's the one that spit in Curtner's face."

"That's exactly what I think."