Disclaimer: The characters from SVU belong to Dick Wolf and the powers that be at NBC. The rest, belong to me.

Author's Note: This was first published on my Yahoo Group, vivalab. Thanks to everyone on the group for your ongoing support.


Abbie Carmichael's heels clicked loudly on the tiled floor as she strode into the 16th precinct. She knocked once on Captain Cragen's office door before entering, only to find the room empty. She closed the door and swept her dark eyes around the squad room, groaning as she spotted a familiar figure.

He noticed her at the Captain's door, immediately moving out from behind his desk and heading towards her, "Why, Federal Prosecutor Carmichael, what black ops, cover up brings you here?" he asked, tilting his head conspiratorially.

Abbie rolled her eyes, "Munch, as much as I'd love to entertain your latest theory about our Government's involvement with whatever you're about to say, I need to speak with Elliot," she responded coolly.

John Munch feigned wounded pride as he dipped and nodded his head, "My belief in your involvement with any such Government op is only further fuelled by your lack of willingness to discuss such matters with me Abbie," he replied poetically.

Abbie shook her head, "If that's what you need to believe to make it through the day, then maybe it's time you found wife number five, John," she replied.

Munch nodded again, "Your unwillingness to contest the point only further add-"

"I get it Munch," she interrupted, holding her hands up to stop his diatribe. She looked towards the interview room and pointed, "Elliot in there?"

He shook his head, "The box," he replied, referring to the interrogation room.

"Thanks," she said, clicking loudly out the room.


Jim McLean looked up as Olivia entered the the small, claustrophobia inducing room. His eyes immediately flashed to the black bag she was carrying and instantly recognized his camera bag. He stared as she pulled out the seat next to Stabler and sat the bag carefully on it as she retrieved a sheaf of color photographs. He watched as she quickly scanned through them and sat them in a neat pile on the table, next to the camera. He looked at her face, finding it surreal to be looking at her so closely without the use of the zoom lens.

Olivia placed the bundle on the table and briefly met Elliot's eyes before moving to lean against the wall behind him, between the window and the one way mirror.

McLean, swallowed nervously as he looked at his watch again, "We only got an hour and a half," he said, his eyes darting between Stabler and Olivia.

Elliot unfolded his arms, his shirt sleeves rolled up exposing taut muscle and nodded at him, "Who hired you?" he asked, prompting him with a nod of his head.

"I dunno her name," McLean answered.

"You're wasting our time, you told me back at the roof…where you tried to throw Detective Benson off, that you could lead us to her," Eliot said impatiently.

McLean nodded, "I can, I can…I gotta deliver the pictures by 5pm tonight…you can follow me…get her that way," he said nervously.

Elliot looked him straight in the eye, "How long you been a private dick?" he asked.

"About six months," he answered, glancing up at Olivia.

Elliot shook his head, "Six months? Are you for real?"

McLean nodded, "I got laid off, couldn't find work, I took a course…it seemed like easy money," he said defensively.

Olivia looked down at her boots, feigning disinterest as she absorbed everything McLean was saying.

Elliot lifted up the photographs and flicked through them, he and Olivia had already looked at them, but he wanted McLean to feel more uncomfortable. He singled out a picture showing Alex with her arm around Olivia outside St Vincent's hospital and turned it towards McLean, "Why were you following them and taking pictures?" he asked, selecting another one from the same day, showing them entering Olivia's apartment building.

McLean glanced again at the imposing silent figure in the corner, "I was hired to get picture evidence of Detective Benson," he said, swallowing as the brunette lifted her head and looked straight at him.

""What kind of evidence?" Elliot asked.

McLean looked nervously away from Olivia's unrelenting gaze and met Elliot's unblinking eyes, "Of her cheating on her girlfriend," he replied.


"Looks like I arrived just in time for the afternoon matinee," Abbie announced.

Alex and Cragen both turned at the sound of the familiar drawl.

Cragen removed his hands from his pockets, "What brings you down here Abbie?" he asked, smiling fondly at her.

Abbie returned the smile, placing a hand on Alex's shoulder and squeezing it gently, "I just need to get some information from Elliot," she answered, looking through the glass at the trio in the room. She motioned with her head, "What's going on?"

Alex ran her hand through her hair, "Jim McLean, private detective…he's been following Liv and I since we got back to the city," she answered.

"Who hired him?" she asked.

Cragen shook his head, "He doesn't have a name, only that it's a woman and he has a meeting with her at 5pm," he supplied.

Abbie took in Alex's casual attire, "Want me to have a word with him?" she asked, holding Alex's gaze, "I've got my spurs on," she said lightly, earning her a smile from the blonde woman.

Alex shook her head, "Can you stick around?" she asked, returning her eyes to the glass.

Abbie nodded, "Sure, I need to wait for old blue eyes anyway," she said.


Elliot clasped his hands together and placed them on the table, "We're dumping your cellphone, we're doing a full background check on you…you wanna sit there and play dumb, go ahead…no jury is going to think twice about locking you away for twenty years for attempting to murder one of New York's finest," he said calmly.

McLean rubbed his profusely sweating brow with his hand, the damp and smelling tie having been discarded. He licked his dry lips, "Look, some broad offered me a lotta money for pictures of them together, she insisted on one shot of…" he paused, conscious of the brooding figure in the corner, "…the two of them kissing…that's all," he said.

"C'mon, you gotta have more to go on than that, how does that work? Hello, is that the dumbest private dick in the country, yeah? I need you to follow a cop and a lawyer…" Elliot said sarcastically.

"She said they'd been together a long time, said she needed proof…Detective Benson was cheating on her so she could get her out of her life!" McLean shouted, rising from his chair.

Elliot stood at the same time, "Take it easy pal, sit down," he said, waiting for McLean to sit back down before continuing, "Who was together?"

"Detective Benson and the woman," he replied.

Elliot shook his head, "Detective Benson and the woman that hired you?" he asked incredulously, furrowing his brow.

Olivia watched as McLean nodded, resisting the urge to turn and shake her head at the glass.

McLean held his head in his hands, "She said they'd been together a while, she wasn't going to let her make a fool of her any longer, running around with her blonde bit on the side," he said, unable to hide his frustration.


Abbie bumped shoulders with Alex, "Hello, bit on the side," she said smiling.

"What is he talking about?" Alex asked, turning to look at Cragen.

Cragen shrugged his shoulders, "I have no idea, I'll go see where they are on the background check for Columbo here," he said, leaving the room.

Alex looked at Abbie, "I think you're up next Tex," she said, smiling weakly as the knot in her stomach tightened.

"Bring it," Abbie drawled.


"You took on a job, following two women with connections to the law and you didn't ask for a name?" Elliot asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

McLean nodded, "I got five grand just for taking the job, I gotta mortgage and a wife," he replied defensively.

"Where are you supposed to meet her?" Olivia asked, speaking for the first time since entering the room.

McLean looked up at her, "She'll call me with the meet," he answered immediately, looking up at her.

The door opened and Abbie looked over at Olivia, "Detective Benson, Captain Cragen needs to speak with you," she said, holding the door open.

Olivia pushed off the wall and glanced at McLean as she moved towards the door, her eyes searching questioningly into Abbie's.

Abbie closed the door behind Olivia and walked over to the seat beside Elliot, she picked the bag up and placed it on the floor, conscious the sweating bald man's eyes hadn't left her since she entered the room.

Abbie settled in the chair and folded her arms, tilting her head, "You attempted to murder a decorated police officer, you've broken six privacy laws and used false credentials to ascertain information pertaining to Detective Benson and Assistant District Attorney Alexandra Cabot's whereabouts, you will be prosecuted and convicted. I will personally see to it that you are placed in a facility where short, bald men are this season's must have fashion accessory," she paused and leaned forward, "Do you understand?" she asked pointedly.

McLean swallowed, shaking his head, "I already told you what I know…I dunno anything about her… she calls me…I don't have a number to contact her…" he trailed off, feeling nausea rise in his throat, "I think I'm gonna be sick," he said, holding his throat and gasping for air.

Abbie frowned, "You can pee your pants for all I care. You better get used to that taste in your mouth," she said rising, "It's going to be your new favorite flavor at Riker's," she finished as she turned and headed for the door.


Olivia stood beside Alex, watching Abbie in action. She held open the file for Jim McLean that Finn and Munch had managed to piece together, scanning the details that she and Alex had already looked at, seeing if there was anything she had missed.

Jim McLean was fifty four years old and had worked as an insurance broker for twelve years before being made redundant, another victim of the ongoing global recession. He lived in the affluent suburbs of Williamsburg with his wife of twenty eight years, Irene. They had two children, both married, both moved out of state. He was two months behind on his mortgage, with three years left to run on it before they owned the five bedroomed house outright. His credit cards were maxed out, he was overdrawn at the bank and his car had been repossessed.

His detective agency was internet based, created using free web development tools and housed on an umbrella site offering free web hosting.

Alex nudged Olivia again, the first one having gone unnoticed, "Hey, didn't you hear me?" she asked, her face showing concern.

Olivia lifted her head and looked at her, "Sorry, was seeing if we'd missed anything," she replied.

"Did we?" Alex asked hopefully.

Olivia shook her head, "He's desperate, this is only his second job, the first was a cheating husband in Queens, he ended up in hospital with a dislocated shoulder and a possible lawsuit," she said.

Alex placed a comforting hand on her arm, "Don says Morales is running a trace on all the traffic to his web site, maybe we'll get lucky," she said, holding Olivia's gaze.

"She could have found him in the free press, where he advertises his services…or one of his leaflet drops…or a business card…" Olivia said sighing.

Alex leaned in and kissed her cheek gently, conscious of their surroundings. Olivia turned her head and kissed Alex tenderly on the lips in return. They pulled away and both breathed out a frustrated sighed.

"I think we should give him what he wants," Alex said quietly.

Olivia nodded and looked at her watch, "She'll be calling him in an hour," she replied.

The door opened and Abbie appeared, she looked between them both and frowned, "You two okay?" she asked.

Olivia nodded, "Yeah, just wishing for a normal life," she said.

Abbie grinned, "And miss all this fun?" she replied, indicating the interrogation room.

Three pairs of eyes looked through the glass, watching McLean as he leaned forward in the chair, trying to put his head between his knees, his large stomach preventing him from achieving his goal.

Elliot turned to the one way mirror and shrugged before rising from his chair and grabbing McLean by the shirt collar and dragging him towards the door.