The sketch of the Conqueror had been released; circulating throughout New York's police departments, on air via the evening news, and door to door canvassing at every crime scene.
Reports were streaming in from all over the city and every available officer was tracking down leads, most resulting in a dead end. The phone's never ceased their shrill cries for attention and Elliot was teetering on the edge. He had been assigned to phone duty while awaiting Olivia's return from her mandatory meeting with Huang, on the insistence of their Captain. Fin and Lake had been put on field detail, retracing their steps at every scene with the sketch Olivia had provided. Munch was down in the lab going over results from the last scene with Warner.
Although the constant barrage of calls kept him alert, his mind was focused on where he would be in a couple hours' time. Seated in a cramped room with a door between him and his partners safety. She would be alone with a man that still haunted his memories.
He was suspicious of White's intentions, and was not satisfied by the supposed precautions they had prepared. Without his presence, or any other guard in the room, all impressions of safety were an illusion. It wasn't just her physical body he feared for, but her mental state. He remembered how White had affected her; how he could get into people's heads and manipulate them. Olivia was a strong and formidable opponent for any perpetrator, but this case had left her drained, which put her at a disadvantage. And he knew White would exploit any crack in her resolve. Elliot was afraid for her.
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She was seated on an overstuffed couch, trying her best not to relax to the point of allowing sleep to cloud her vision. She could feel exhaustion tugging at her eyelids, zapping her strength. She began to wonder when she had last experienced recuperative rest, and realized she couldn't remember.
Huang was seated across from her behind his desk. He seemed to be taking her appearance in, studying her, and she imagined herself behind a glass two-way being observed by men in white coats. She didn't like the feeling of being watched and analyzed, not even by Huang, who she had come to trust and respect as a colleague.
Huang had a calming air about him, a soothing voice indicative of psychologists to instill a feeling of safety and assurance. "How are you doing Olivia?"
Her guard was up. At the moment she was afraid, not of a physical foe, but of her emotions. She needed to remain in control; any slack and her resolve could crumble, leaving her vulnerable to Huang's dissection. "A little tired but I'm doing alright, considering."
"Considering what…?" It was a logical question, yet it left her frustrated with herself. She had given him an in, a reason to continue. Maybe she did want to talk. But too much and her spot on the case could be in jeopardy.
She sighed. "How about this case and our sheer lack of forensic evidence, or the butchering of four women and a serial killer who's out there right now probably hurting another one."
He nodded and gave her a knowing look. "How does that make you feel?"
"What…?" She was sensing a trap.
"That the killer is still out there; that he could be hurting someone else." He was fishing and she knew it.
She wouldn't take the bait. "Angry. Pissed off."
"Is that all you feel?" He was on to her. Damnit.
She took the bait. "Guilty. Ok… I feel guilty."
"So you feel responsible for him still being out there?" He had leaned forward, was listening intently.
She had to be careful. Consider what was safe to say. "Well, I mean, in a way I am. I disregarded procedure and allowed a dangerous perp to get away."
"You allowed him to escape? From what I've heard you were ambushed and knocked unconscious. Why do you feel responsible for things out of your control?" He was reassuring her like a victim. They all had done it in their time at the 1-6, its textbook when dealing with victims. But she was a cop and maintaining control was part of her job.
Anger filling her voice, she needed to make him understand. "I lost control of the situation, let my guard down, which meant I was unable to do my job. If I had called for back-up, if I had successfully secured the scene, the perp wouldn't have escaped. He'd be sitting in a cell right now waiting for trial. Instead he's out there, probably torturing and mutilating more women, and it's my damn fault!" She had clenched her fists into tight balls, which she found strength in.
"So you believe any future victim will be a result of your actions?" He had leaned back again and was writing with fervor in a small notepad.
Not wanting to respond, she released a breath, buried in it was her answer. "…yes."
"You seem to be relieving the killer of an awful lot of responsibility. Did you make him kill those four women?" He had stopped writing and was leaning closer to her. "Are you making him kill again?"
She hated his logic. She knew he was right, yet the guilt still ate away at her, she did still feel responsible, at least for not stopping him. She hesitated before answering. "No." It was a defeated sound.
"We all make mistakes Olivia. Although we tend to hold ourselves to higher standards because of our jobs, taking on the role of protector, we are after all human. I think we forget that, until it's pointed out to us by our own fallibilities." He was trying to soothe her again. This time she let him.
"I know…" She had leaned back, closing her eyes against his words, against her own fallibility, the weaknesses that she carried with her but dared not show.
"I heard you're visiting a prisoner this evening, a man who once stalked and threatened you." He was shifting the conversation, and she wasn't ready to delve into White.
Her eyes remained closed. "Yes."
"Are you ready to face him?" There was the question on all their minds.
"Yes." She paused, considered her situation. "I need to be. I don't have a choice."
"We always have a choice." He sounded so rational, but his statement brought about a reaction in her.
"Yes. You're right, I do have a choice. I can go and have a little chat with a man I abhor, who once tried to kill me, and possibly get a lead in the case. Doing so, could bring justice to those four women and stop a killer from hurting anyone else. Or I could go home and forget what my job is." She gathered up all the strength she could muster. "Look, we deal with scum, men who prey off the pain of others, and that's what White is. It's nothing new." Her sarcasm had morphed into cool reserve. She had gone back into defense mode with full force.
Huang sat in quiet confidence, not phased by Olivia's reaction. "The thought of seeing Richard White again scares you, doesn't it?"
She looked up and met his gaze. "Yes."
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"Thank you for the information…we'll be sure to inform Lucky's Chinese that their bus boy is the Conqueror." Sighing loudly, Elliot returned the phone to its home. Sure that it would be a short visit.
"I'll be sure never to order from them again…"
Looking up with a smile spreading across his face, Elliot saw his beautiful partner sitting on the edge of his desk. He didn't miss a beat. "Damn, and I had such a craving for egg roles."
It felt incredible to be joking with her again. She smiled back at him and everything that had occurred in the past few weeks melted away. Nothing could be bad when she smiled; the world was a better place simply because she was in it. He just wished she knew it.
His phone began to shriek again, and he looked at it with resentment. The moment shattered by this little foe.
Olivia looked at the phone then at her partner. "Dinner?"
He smiled again. "You're hungry?"
"Not really, but I want to get out of here." She looked around at the chaos in the squad room. "I need some quiet time before tonight."
Remembering his earlier thoughts, he nodded. Standing up, he pulled her into a protective hug. Instantly she was brought back to the day of the accident, standing with him in that hospital hallway. His strength and reassurance just as wonderfully protective as she remembered.
"Everything's going to be alright…" He was whispering so faintly she could barely hear him. "…you're going to be alright."
"Thanks El…" She fought hard to keep tears at bay.
Elliot pulled back and encased her shoulders in his strong hands. He looked into her eyes and smiled broadly. "So…Lucky's it is."
Laughing, she gave him a fake jab in the stomach. "Watch it Stabler, I can still kick your ass."
He had grabbed his coat and was headed for the doors. "You'd like to think so…"
She had grabbed her own coat and was following him out. "What…you want a demonstration?"
Laughing loudly, they exited the precinct onto the streets of New York.
