Only one more after this! As always the original SVU characters belong to Dick Wolf, yada, yada, yada…But the story is all mine, enjoy.

All the detectives and the captain meet back in the squad room to compare notes on the investigation. They've returned to the conference table to brainstorm and eat lunch.

"Young Tyler wasn't at work today but we found out he got such a cushy gig fresh out the joint because the general manager just so happens to be his first cousin," reveals Fin.

He grabs a white box of Chinese food and a set of chopsticks before he digs in to some beef and broccoli.

"You get anything from the LUDs," asks Cragen, directing his attention to Munch stabbing at some orange chicken.

Munch takes a pause from his lunch to retrieve the stack of papers reflecting all the phone calls from the Manhattan Auto Group and the victim's cell and home numbers.

"Looks like normal back and forth around the time the vehicles were purchased," he informs the captain. "But nothing after," he adds. "And this being the digital age and all, I also had TARU check for emails and still came up with nada."

"So if he's not luring them out and there's no communication between them," the captain starts. "How the hell is he getting to them?"

Rollins leans back on her chair, clasping her hands behind her head.

"He does have access to duplicate keys," she suggests, glad her profile isn't the only thing she's brought to the investigation. "Branson probably stalked them, figured out their routines and maybe hid in their cars."

"That's bold as hell," Fin chimes in. "But we still don't have a primary crime scene," he tells them.

"Yeah," comments Munch. "With the obvious lack of physical evidence and condition of these bodies," he adds gesturing at the crime scene pictures. "Wherever it is has to be remote or soundproof," he advises. "Because we know they all fought like hell."

"And hell is exactly what he put them through," comments Melinda, as she strolls into the squad room.

"Hey doc," responds Fin. "Got something to add," he asks, as they all give her their undivided attention.

"Yes," she tells them. "I was able to look at the M.E.'s report on the first homicide and compared them to the other three," she begins. "These women weren't just raped and strangled, they were tortured," she tells them. "Probably for hours."

They detectives look at her waiting for her to elaborate. She steps towards the white board, pointing out details in the autopsy photos.

"The bruises on the bodies were in various states of healing," she informs them. "Which means the beatings were probably prolonged," she continues. "And there's one more thing," she advises. "Our victim had traces of water in her lungs."

They all look at her like she's speaking in a foreign tongue.

"Water," says Olivia. "I thought they were strangled?"

"So did the other M.E.'s," she advises. "After finding a broken hyoid bone maybe they stopped looking for anything else."

"And that's why we're so lucky to have you," says Fin, smiling at Melinda.

"Yes you are," Warner tells him, before continuing with her news. "Nina Lance was repeatedly drowned and revived before he strangled her to death," she informs them. "I suspect they all were but without having them on my table I can't say for sure."

"What kind of water was it doc," questions Amaro. "We looking for a swimming pool or a bath tub drowning here?"

"A natural water source," she tells him. "Brackish, a combination of fresh and salt water," she continues. "Nina had more fresh than salt so I'd say your perp stayed local."

"Thanks Melinda," says Cragen, as she exit's the squad room.

"The primary crime scene has to be a boat of some kind," offers Rollins. "It would explain why the cars were all abandoned only a couple miles from piers."

"And why there were no witnesses," comments Olivia. "No one hears you scream out on open water."

On the basis that he sold vehicles to all four victims and had access to their work and home addresses, Captain Cragen gets on the phone to A.D.A. Barba to request warrants for Tyler Branson's financial records to see if he owns any type of water vessel.

He also requests search warrants for the residence he shares with his mother, the boat if one exists and his time sheets to compare them with the dates and times of the victims' disappearances.

After executing the warrants Barba gets them, the detectives find enough information to all but guarantee a warrant for their suspect's arrest.

The time sheets and work schedules provided by the Manhattan Auto Group show his absences, late arrival or early departure from work on days the women disappeared.

With the time periods being long and varied Branson's mother is unable to give him an alibi this time. Means, motive and opportunity equal a warrant for Tyler Branson's arrest.

Now they just have to find him, the primary crime scene or some physical evidence tying him to the victims.

He pays pier fees in various locations and could be docked at anyone of them. Or, he could be sailing halfway to Canada.

"Alright gang," begins the Captain. "It's been a long day and we've done all we can," he tells them. "If he uses his credit cards or tries to get money from an ATM it'll be flagged. It's time to go home. Rollins and Fin you guys are catching this weekend."

"What about Branson Captain," begins Amaro. "He's definitely a mama's boy," he continues. "Maybe we should stay on her house."

The captain puts his hands in his pockets, grinning at the young detective's enthusiasm.

"Already taken care of," he informs him. "Uni's are on his mom's house and I have cooperation from the local departments of every slip he's paying rent for," he adds. "Go home. Tuck in Zara."

Nick nods as the captain returns to his office. Because they're on call this weekend Rollins and Fin have already left for the night.

"Something bothering you Nick," asks Olivia from her desk. She's also stalling knowing she needs to talk to Elliot.

He sits in the chair next to her desk, stretching his feet out and crossing them at the ankles.

"I think this guy feels the noose tightening around his throat," he tells her. "Facing what he knows he's facing and having already been to the joint-

"You think he's gonna do something desperate," she interrupts. "One last hurrah before he gets caught," she adds, leaning back in her chair.

Nick nods, planting an elbow on her desk.

"That's exactly what I think," he admits. "I just hate waiting for the other shoe to drop," he tells her. "Know what I mean?"

Olivia sits up, retrieving her keys and purse from her drawer.

"Yes," she answers without pause. "But sometimes we don't have a choice," she tells her partner. "I'll walk you out."

Olivia nearly breathes a sigh of relief when she doesn't find Elliot waiting for her in her hallway again.

It was in fact a very long day.

She enters her apartment, turns on the lights laying her purse and keys on the counter. When she turns to her refrigerator to scrounge for food she finds a note taped to the door.

Liv,

I know you've probably put off eating so I cooked. Hope that's okay.

El

P.S. - Call me when you're ready to talk.

Olivia opens her fridge and to her pleasant surprise there's grilled salmon, baked sweet potatoes and green beans.

And if what he did for and to her body last night wasn't enough of an apology, he's left her a slice of chocolate torte from her favorite bakery for dessert.

She takes the food out and nukes it in the microwave. Everything tastes amazing and when she gets her fill she puts the leftovers back in the fridge.

Olivia feels a bubble bath and brandy night is highly appropriate. As she presses play and slips into the hot water and bubbles she tries to forget about Tyler Branson and his victims but it's difficult.

As if being abducted and raped weren't enough, they had to endure being repeatedly drowned and revived only to have to go through it all over again.

Melinda's voice echoes in her head saying, "…they were tortured."

Those women had significant others, children, families that missed them. She hopes they can find the psycho before he has a chance to destroy more lives by killing someone else.

Olivia gets out of the bathtub after her fingers are prune-like and she's relaxed enough for sleep. But before she calls it a night, she wants to thank him. She dries off, dons some of her favorite soft pajamas, wraps herself in a robe and grabs her phone.

"Hey," he answers on the third ring.

Olivia walks into her living room and opens her curtains.

"I didn't wake you did I," she asks, staring at his building.

"Liv it's barely ten o'clock and Kathy has Eli this weekend," he explains.

Olivia smiles at the thought of the previous nights' activities. She had never seen the man beg for anything, not even his own life. But last night…last night.

"I just called to thank you for dinner," she begins. "And dessert looks wonderful too, maybe I'll have it for breakfast," she adds, kidding. Though it'll probably be calling her name in the wee hours of the morning.

"So you're home then," he asks, walking into his living room. "You in bed yet?"

She steps closer to the large window, momentarily placing a hand against the chilled glass.

"In my living room looking at your building," she tells him. "I bet my apartment is better than yours," she says, jokingly. She still can't believe he's been just across the street.

Olivia hears his laugh and it's the best thing she's heard all day. It wouldn't hurt her to hear it more often.

"I'd invite you over to see it but it looks like you're already in your pajamas," he observes.

"You can see me?"

"Yep," he responds. "And you can see me too," he informs her, beginning to wave.

She laughs at how ridiculous he looks standing in his window waving at her like a maniac.

"Yeah I can," she says between giggles. "You can stop acting like your trying to land a 747 now," she tells him, holding her stomach from laughing so hard.

"Good," he tells her. "Cuz my arm is tired."

When they both stop laughing, Elliot turns the conversation to a more serious topic.

"So are we okay," he asks, placing his hand on the glass as if to touch her.

"Hey that's my line."

"Liv," he rasps, and she can feel it in her toes. "I never want to be the cause of that look on your face again."

She returns her hand to the glass.

"And I never want to feel that way again," she responds. "Especially not with you," she adds.

"All my cards are on the table now Liv," he tells her. "No more secrets, no more hiding from you," he promises. "It killed me to watch you hurting, feeling like I was just one more person that let you down."

She honestly believes Elliot's the one person that could've helped her through the last year. But she understands his reasoning, foolish though it was for him to think she wouldn't have wanted him around.

"I forgive you baby," she says, feeling she truly means it. Olivia watches in amusement as he stands just that much closer to the window.

"You know I love when you call me that."

She can see him smiling from ear to ear from her position across the street. Olivia is well aware of how much he enjoys hearing that particular term of endearment.

"Yeah," she admits. "So you've told me."

"And as much as I want to show you how much I like hearing it," he says, flirting. "I know what kind of day you must've had so I'll let you get some sleep."

Olivia's mind supplies crime scene photos of Tyler Branson's victims again and how they died. Despite the relaxing bath and making amends with Elliot, sleep may not find her as quickly as she would hope. She doesn't want to be alone tonight.

"Yeah it's been," she begins, all the sudden emotional.

"Hey," he says, noticing the change. "What's wrong?"

"I just," she tries again. "Can you come over," she asks. "I don't want-

"It's okay," he interrupts. "I know."

And he does. Elliot remembers what the cases can do to you. There were many times where hugging his kids or just being held by Kathy was the only way he got through after those days.

He remembers thinking about Olivia and wondering how she got through and whether or not she had someone to hold her. As he puts on a coat and some sneakers he knows he wants to be that for her. A refuge, a comfort.

Olivia watches as he crosses the street. When she knows he's made it she closes her curtain, sits on her sofa and waits. She told him to use his key.

Minutes later she hears him.

Elliot hangs his overcoat on a nearby hook, depositing his shoes at the door. He's already dressed in his pajamas, prepared for sleep.

"Liv," he calls out in the darkness.

She gets up and goes to him, seeking out his lips. It feels like much longer than this morning that Olivia's kissed him. She can feel Elliot's now clean shaven face beneath her finger tips, a contrast from last night's stubble.

Olivia takes his cheeks between her hands as Elliot's strong arms encircle her waist. He lets her set the pace believing she'll let him know what she needs. She struggles to keep it as a simple hello, barely managing to pull it off.

After her lips leave his she lays her head against his shoulder just holding on to him. Elliot begins rubbing soothing hands over her back and before he knows it, she's fallen asleep standing up.

He wakes her long enough to get her into bed, ditching his t-shirt and crawling in next to her. Olivia curls into his side, laying her head on his chest. Elliot puts an arm around her waist, rubbing her back again. Sleep claims her in a matter of minutes and he's not long to follow.

The dawning of the day doesn't bring any sunshine to Olivia's bedroom but instead a soft gray light reflecting a no doubt overcast sky on this winter morning. She's the first to open her eyes and she's in no hurry to move. Elliot is exactly what she needed...needs. He didn't question her about the case or probe her to discuss anything work related.

The need Olivia had for something or someone to make her smile, to remember how to enjoy simple things like a home cooked meal or being held because you're mentally and emotionally drained, seems to have been filled by Elliot.

He is the separation she needs from the often too dark world in which she works. Elliot has shown her she doesn't have to live there too. And it's all so ironic considering the fact that he trained her for the job.

She's trying not to depend on him, not to need him so much but he's making it too easy. If he ever disappears from her life again, twenty-one days will not be enough to put her back together.

They've shifted in their slumber. He is spooning behind her, arm hanging over her waist, legs entangled with her own. Olivia woke up because he was rubbing the skin of her abdomen with his thumb. It isn't the worst way she's been rousted from her sleep.

"Good morning," Elliot whispers into her neck.

His breath is warm on her skin where her hair has fallen out of the way. Olivia puts a hand over the one he has over her waist.

"Morning," she responds, pulling his arm further around her while backing into his body heat.

Elliot doesn't disappoint holding her tighter to him still, kissing down the length of her nape.

"Mmm," she moans, as his lips meet her skin. "You know what I'd really love right now?"

Elliot pushes Olivia onto her back, positioning himself between her legs suspended on his elbows.

"No, why don't you tell me," he says, lifting her camisole to place feather light kisses on her stomach.

Olivia has one arm folded behind her head, and the other is caressing the overnight stubble on his face.

"I'd really, really love," she draws out, just as Elliot lowers his mouth to her collar bone and onwards towards her neck. She breathes a sigh of contentment.

"What," he says, suckling on her pulse point while one hand is caressing the skin just below a breast.

"That chocolate torte right now," she tells him, unable to stop from snickering.

Olivia's glee is contagious as Elliot finds himself chuckling right along with her. He encourages it by tickling her sides until he sees tears coming out of her eyes. They both revel in the moment of hilarity. It doesn't happen nearly often enough.

"Okay, okay," she begs. "I give," she tells him.

He releases her reluctantly, rolling out of bed to look for his shirt.

"You can't eat that for breakfast Liv," he starts. "I'm going to make you something proper," he says, finding and pulling his shirt over his head.

"If cooking me breakfast brings you happiness then who am I to stop you," she says tongue in cheek, giving him a toothy grin.

She gets out of bed, headed for the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth. Elliot slaps her on the butt on her way in.

"Cuz that brings me happiness too," he tells her, returning her sarcasm. She just shakes her head at him as he continues out of her bedroom and into the kitchen.

Moments later she hears her front door open and close. Olivia assumes he's gone across the street to his apartment for the food. Lord knows she hasn't returned to a supermarket since she's gone back to work. Save for last night's leftovers, the contents of her refrigerator remain sparse.

Ten minutes later he's walking through her door with supplies.

"Whatcha got there," she asks from her view on the sofa. Olivia has curled into a corner to read the book she abandoned after returning to work.

"You'll find out," he says smirking as he enters her kitchen. He washes his hands then some vegetables, onions and mushrooms and begins slicing and dicing. He grates fresh cheese and retrieves margarine from the refrigerator.

She's taken to watching him openly now. When they were partners she wasn't afforded such a luxury. Olivia sees the muscles of his back through his shirt when he reaches into her cupboard for a bowl. She notices how his forearms flex when he's whisking the eggs. And she thanks the heavens for putting her pans in a lower cabinet when she catches a view of his ass while bending to retrieve a couple to cook in.

"See something you like," he asks, busting her for ogling him as he browns the filling for her Denver omelet.

Olivia puts down the paperback she wasn't reading anyway and saunters into the kitchen. She sits on the countertop opposite him, showing him just how little she cares about being busted.

"Yeah I do," she tells him, eying him like he's on the menu.

Elliot turns down the heat to the vegetables and chopped ham before turning to her. She wraps her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck before pulling him in for a kiss.

Olivia tastes him completely, sliding her tongue against his and roaming his mouth hungrily. She's kissing her way along his jaw and down his neck before snaking her hands beneath his shirt to feel his skin.

"You should let me feed you first," he warns. "If this is how we're gonna start the day," he adds. "You're going to need your energy."

Olivia places a playful bite on his neck before kissing it and letting him out of her grasp.

"Good girl," he says, smiling as he returns to the task of making her breakfast.

Ten minutes later they're sitting side by side at her counter enjoying the Denver omelets he's made. She moans at the taste, smiling around her fork like a kid eating birthday cake. Olivia must've been hungrier than she thought. She's halfway done in no time.

"You know if you keep cooking for me like this," she begins. "I'm gonna have to keep you around."

Elliot puts a hand against his chest, feigning like his feelings have just been hurt at her words.

"Is that all I'm good for," he says. "A hot meal," he asks, continuing the charade with phony emotion. "Just use a guy for his skills in the kitchen and cast him aside why don't you," he says pretending tears.

She chuckles at his joking. He's really good for her and she feels her heart making just that much more room for his.

"No baby," she begins. "I also want you for your body," she purrs. "So I have every intention of making full use of your skills in the bedroom again too," she adds, rubbing his thigh.

He looks her over slowly and deliberately, giving her the same predatory grin he gave her a couple of nights ago.

"You know I don't let just anyone use me," he says, getting up from his stool, spinning her around to face him. "But for you I've made an exception."

Elliot picks her up from her position and she wraps her legs around him as they head towards her bedroom.

"And why am I so lucky," she whispers into his ear before biting the lobe and sucking on it.

Elliot thinks initially it's because she does things like that to turn him on beyond belief. But that's not true.

"Because I," he begins, as he stops against a wall.

Her cell phone begins ringing in her bedroom.

"Hold that thought," she says, getting down to answer the phone. Elliot follows behind her.

Olivia knows that Fin and Rollins are the ones catching this weekend but it could be a break in the Branson case.

"Benson," says Amaro on the other end.

"Yeah," she answers, giving Elliot an apologetic look resting a hand against his chest.

"Alicia Johnson is missing," he advises her. "No one's seen her since her shift ended last night," he tells her.

Dun, dun, dunnnnn….lol.

Hey if you think it's so nice, why not review it twice! Or just once…I'd love to know what you think.