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Chapter 12
They stood close together in the dark parking lot; their only source of light, a nearby streetlamp. Frank and Porter were giving them a few minutes of privacy before they headed back to Hempstead. Frustrated by the emotions that were threatening to overtake her, Olivia fought the tears; she hated feeling vulnerable. She tried to avoid his eyes, but Elliot gently took her chin in his hand and turned her face to his, as the first tear escaped.
"Hey, baby…" Alarmed, he pulled her into his arms. "What is it, Liv? Is it Porter? I swear, I'll…"
"No, Elliot. No… I just really wanna be with you tonight—without cameras, and people… and sneaking around." Her voice was barely a whisper. "I don't have a good feeling about this…"
Olivia Benson was tough: She was the strongest woman he knew, and one of the best detective's the NYPD had ever been blessed with—willing to carry her own load and then some. She'd been in more than her share of dangerous situations over the years, and the target of more than one psychopath. She didn't complain, and she wasn't faint of heart; she was brave, and gutsy. So when those words came from her mouth, he knew she was struggling. He pulled her closer, wrapping her in his arms. She remained rigid, refusing to give in to the cold fear that was all but consuming her—desperately trying to gain some control.
"I'm sorry, El… I'm being ridiculous—I know we can't be together. I'm fine." She tried to pull away from him, but he held her tight.
"No. Liv… You're not being ridiculous—you have every reason to be afraid. I'm scared too, baby—I have been since this damn thing started. Jesus, Liv… I just wanna take you away from all this."
She slowly allowed herself to sink into his embrace and rested her head on his shoulder. "It's just different now, El," she whispered, her voice still choked with tears. "I've never known what it was to be truly happy before… I've never had so much to live for—or so much to lose—and I'm terrified, Elliot."
He knew the feeling well—in regards to his children; they'd always been his main concern in these situations. Elliot felt his own control begin to slip as icy fingers of fear inched up his spine. This time it was different for him, too—it was stepped up a notch: Kathy never had the hold on his heart that Olivia did—and he understood her terror. "Baby, I'm gonna arrange for us to be together tonight," he whispered.
"Elliot… No—we can't. We can't jeopardize the operation. I know I slipped out to be with you for a few hours last night, but this—we can't. Before tonight we at least thought we had some idea what we were dealing with—but now everything's changed." She pulled out of his arms, and took a few steps away to distance herself, raking her fingers through her hair. "Who is doing this…? What the hell do they want?" She shivered and wrapped her coat tighter around herself. Elliot covered the distance between them, drawing her back into his arms.
"Liv…"
"I'm fine, Elliot… really. It's just all this waiting… It's making me crazy. We don't even know who we're looking for. I'm used to doing so much more… you know? I usually have a victim to center my attention on—I feel so goddamned useless." She resisted his arms, knowing it would be too easy to get lost in them. "It's so fucking frustrating: It's like being spun around while you're blind-folded; when you stop you don't know which direction you're pointed in…"
He gave a dry, mirthless laugh. "Yeah, that pretty much describes it." He understood her frustration and restlessness: She was a woman of action—never better than when she could focus her energy on protecting someone else—or getting justice for them. But when the focus was on her, she was like a fish out of water. He pressed his lips to her forehead, kissing her gently. "Are you gonna be okay, baby…? 'Cause I know we can work something out, Liv."
"No, El—I'm fine… I promise." He didn't miss the tremulous sigh she tried to stifle, but she was stubborn and he knew she couldn't be persuaded now that she'd made up her mind.
"I'll be over later with my trusty air mattress… We can make-out on the settee." He offered a hopeful grin and waggled his eyebrows, trying to lighten her mood.
She managed a sad smile. "Now that we trust Porter, maybe you don't need to spend the nights there, El… You'd be a lot more comfortable in a real bed. You could still come over and say goodnight to me." It wasn't that she didn't want him there—there was a great deal of comfort knowing he was just feet away from her… But it was pretty hard for him to get a decent night's sleep.
"I didn't say I trusted Porter, Liv… Jesus, I watched a man hold a gun to your head, knowing I couldn't risk taking a shot for fear of hurting you—but it didn't stop him… And if that's the kind of protection he offers, I'm not leaving you alone with him."
"Okay… I just…"
Their conversation was interrupted when Elliot realized Frank was motioning to him. "I'll go see what he wants and come right back… I still wanna say goodbye to you," he declared, heading toward Frank.
Olivia slowly trailed after him, not quite ready to say goodbye, but not wanting to hold the other two men up. She thought about how much more difficult this op could have been if it'd panned out the way it had been set up; she wouldn't have seen Elliot at all. As it was, she not only had had several opportunities to see him during the day, but she'd slept with him most nights. She realized how lucky she was and decided she needed to 'buck up' and stop being a baby. When the hell had she turned into 'that' woman—the woman who couldn't survive without her man…? She couldn't decide if she was amused or horrified by the thought. She approached the three men in time to hear Frank address Elliot.
"Hey, Stabler… Porter and I wanna kick around a coupla ideas… Why don't you guys take the Rolls and Olivia can drop you off…"
Elliot didn't need to be persuaded. Porter exchanged keys with him, and the two of them headed to the other car, while he and Olivia climbed into the Rolls Royce. Elliot insisted on driving, much to her relief.
They took their time, stopping in a little convenience store for coffee and tea… Olivia requested chocolate, knowing he'd never find her favorite, but desperate enough to settle for anything that qualified. After they'd been on the road for a while, Elliot found a peaceful spot overlooking the water and pulled off the highway to park. "You're still pretty quiet, Liv… You sure you're okay." He reached over and took her hand.
"Yeah. It's just… I miss the kids, El. I worry about them… How did you do this all those years, Elliot?" She finally lost the battle with the tears she'd been holding back, and they escaped, tracking down her cheeks, as she frantically listed all the reasons she needed to be home. "…and it's almost Christmas," she sobbed. "There are so many things I promised to do with them, El… Eli's got the program at his pre-school… and there's shopping… and it's our first Christmas together… and…"
"Hey, hey, baby." Elliot pulled her into his arms, and this time he wasn't letting her go. He held her and let her cry, murmuring soothingly while he kissed her forehead. The tears subsided, but she shivered in his arms.
"I'm sorry, El… I'm such a mess." She looked up at him from under the fringe of her lashes, tears still glistening. "I probably should tell you I can chalk some of this up to PMS," she admitted morosely. "I guess that's why I'm so emotional… I'm sorry."
"Hey, you don't need to be sorry, baby." Elliot drew her lips to his and kissed her tenderly. "Besides," he chuckled. "I already knew that… but I sure wasn't gonna be the first to mention it."
"Okay, smartass… How'd you know?"
He smiled smugly and she punched him lightly on the arm. "If I tell you, are you gonna punch me again?"
"Probably," she admitted. "Depends on what you say."
He drew her closer and tilted her chin so he could look into her eyes. "Well… There's the whole chocolate thing…" She rolled her eyes but had no grounds to argue, so he continued. "And just a few days before you start, you…" He hesitated.
"I what, Elliot…?"
"Let's just say your, uh… libido—and sexual urges… change. For one thing you're insatiable… more than usual," he chuckled, his eyes twinkling as he watched the expression on her face.
"Oh, really…? What else…?" she challenged.
"Well... You want me to take charge: You know—to 'take' you—be on top… And you want it slow and intense and romantic. You wanna be kissed more—you get all feminine and cuddly… You're sexy as hell." He brushed his thumb over the contours of her cheek before placing a lingering kiss on her lips.
When he removed his lips she snuggled into him. "Wow! You do know me, El," she said, her voice still a little tremulous. "I really am sorry I fell apart, Elliot…" She pulled out of his arms and sat back against the seat, raking her fingers through her hair. "I'm on an FBI undercover op, for god's sake!" She turned her head to look at him. "I guess it's true that people in a relationship shouldn't do this together. What the hell would I have done if we hadn't been able to see each other at all—the way it'd had been planned? I'd have been so miserable, Elliot."
He pulled her back into his arms. "Well, I'm glad we're together. And you'd have done your job—just like you always do: This isn't the first time you've had PMS, baby… It hasn't interfered with your ability to fully function and be one hell of a detective for the past fifteen years, has it?"
"No… No, it hasn't," she acknowledged.
"And you didn't fall apart, Liv. You expressed some beautiful sentiments: When you said you'd never been this happy—and had so much to lose… Do you know how good hearing that made me feel? And the things you said about the kids, Liv… God I love you so much. You make me so happy, Olivia Benson." He held her for a few more moments, rubbing her back and placing kisses in her hair, before gently pushing her away to look into her eyes. "And, baby… It's okay to be scared. I'm scared, too… It's not like we're being paranoid and imagining that someone has their sights on you, Liv… This is real. Fear will keep us more diligent."
Thursday, December 6th
The shadows deepened as the man walked further into the trees and bushes around the parameter of the Crestview property, his ever-present cell phone held close to his ear. "I said I'd take it," he spat into the phone. "But I won't tolerate Kundak's interference: He takes care of Stabler and I take care of Benson. If he gets in my business with her, I'll walk. That's the only avenue I have to keep him under control, so you better make him understand."
"I told you… It's being taken care of—he knows he not only loses his cut, he'll be lucky if someone doesn't arrange an accident for him." The man hesitated before uttering his next words. "You might wanna ask yourself how much more attitude the boss is gonna tolerate from you, truth be told. Just a friendly warning..."
"Don't waste your time," he scoffed.
"Whatever… It's your neck. Now I've got some information for you: This op is all fucked up… Stabler was supposed to go under with her as Jason Randolph, but that ass Porter did instead. So he'll be at the house with her. Stabler's been coming over around midnight every night—and leaving around five the next morning… before daylight."
"That'll work. Who else is on the grounds…? We'll need to have a game plan for keeping Barrett and a few others out of the way."
"You'll have all the information you need when the time comes. This has to go down as the work of the 'Country Club' murderer—with a little twist."
"What do we know 'bout the rest of th' agents Lamb hired…? …the ones patrollin' the perimeters of Crestview an' the club?"
"I can have a check done on that. Why…? What're you thinking, Frank?"
"I don't know what the hell I'm thinking, Connie, my minds goin' in so many directions. I wish to god we could locate Lamb… Rule him out one way or th'other. But if he handpicked 'em all, I jus' think we should look into it."
"I agree… Consider it done. What else."
"We got Benson's unit lookin' into some recent activity she was involved in… She played a pretty big role in bringin' down Delia Wilson—that pimp and drug lord, masquerading as a soccer mom and Sunday school teacher—a few months back; took out a slew of gover'ment officials when she tumbled. Threats were… 'nsinuated. Wouldn't hurt to have th' Bureau do some checkin' into that, too… We got a few more resources than the 16th Precinct."
"I remember hearing about it… Okay."
"An' if nothin' shows up on that—there're a few others we should look into…"
Olivia finished loading the dishwasher in the fancy kitchen she and Porter barely used. Porter had prepared dinner and she was cleaning up before they left for their appointment in the city. They had plans to connect with Elliot and Frank at the precinct, and the four of them would meet with Cragen—and anyone else from the team who was available. Amaro had been pulled in, too, since both he and Fin had contacts from their previous NYPD stints—Nick, in Warrants and Narcotics, and Fin, as a former undercover narcotics detective… It gave them the street presence they needed to go some of places the rest of them could never go. Tonight their focus would be different.
Since last evening Olivia had concentrated on pulling herself together and getting her head back in the game. She'd needed to depersonalize it in order to do some critical thinking. Elliot was right: She'd certainly had PMS many times in the past fifteen years, and had still done an exemplary job as an SVU Detective. But her life circumstances were different now, and god help her—she was getting older. As much as she didn't want to go there, she wondered if she might be feeling the effects of perimenopause; she'd certainly been more emotional in the past year.
Her thoughts were interrupted when Porter ambled into the kitchen. "Hey, you about ready…?" he asked. Now that they were working with him and not around him, it was much easier to maneuver—although it wasn't easier for her to spend time with him. In some ways it was more difficult: When she'd been angry with him and considered him the enemy she hadn't really needed to engage… It was impersonal. Now there was the expectation of conversation and comradery. And she found it much more awkward when they needed to be physical; especially when he kissed her. She sensed he still had an attraction to her, and while he clearly understood that her relationship with Elliot was solid and all-encompassing—and he was back to being the 'perfect gentleman' with her… it was there. It wasn't lost on her how hard this was for him, too.
"Yeah, I'm ready… Let's go."
Chairs had been commandeered from the empty desks in the squad room, and everyone sat around the bullpen, focusing on the information they'd been adding to the incident board. Amanda had taken on the task of writing it up as it was being presented. Half-empty coffee cups and opened bottles of water and cans of soda were scattered around on whatever surfaces were available. The topic was the Delia Wilson case, and currently Nick had the floor.
"I decided to check out some of the losers who'd been hanging out with Cassidy and Bart Ganzel… before everything went down." He made eye contact with Olivia, trying to gauge any defensiveness on her part at his mention of Cassidy. "I talked with some of the girls, too." He switched his attention from Olivia to John Munch. "Seems Cassidy was around recently—asking a buncha questions..."
John returned his stare. "I need more information than that, my man, if you hope to get any feedback from me: Like—the nature of the questions? Was he inquiring after their health, or hoping to get lucky?"
Nick shot a self-depracating grin in Munch's direction. "Point taken, John... He was asking if any of Ganzel's girls knew anything about Delia's operation since she'd been thrown in prison. Like… Were they still in the 'escort' business…? Had anyone taken it over in Delia's absence…? Had any of Ganzel's girls defected to the enemy…? Ganzel's operation's pretty much at a standstill and the girls are looking for work…"
"And what did they tell him…?"
"Seems business is good. Quite a few of Bart's girls have hired on with them. Apparently, there're just as many girls and no lack of drugs… Having Wilson in prison is hardly a blip in the operation of the 'business of pleasure.' The question here is whether she's operating it from her prison cell, or are her minions on the outside just filling in while she's indisposed?"
Cragen shifted in his chair. "Have you talked with Cassidy, Nick?"
"No—and not for lack of trying… He's disappeared."
Olivia gave a sigh of frustration. "What in hell is he thinking…? He's hardly had a chance to heal." She knew first hand how grievously Brian Cassidy had been injured. Because she'd been there, she'd felt some responsibility for his injury… And that, coupled with the guilt she'd harbored for the past twelve years for her shoddy treatment of him after their one-night stand, had caused her to offer support that was—possibly—above and beyond what was warranted. It had become a bitter bone of contention between her and Elliot. She glanced at him now, to see his reaction to her outburst.
Elliot's face remained impassive. He knew Olivia was watching him, and she had enough on her mind without worrying about him acting like an ass over a man he knew she only cared about as a friend.
"So what're you thinkin' this all means, Amaro? You got any theories that tie this to Benson and Stabler?" Frank gestured in their direction to emphasize his point.
"Not really, Frank. But it does prove it hasn't slowed her down any… And if she can operate her business from prison, she could probably set up an elaborate hit; God knows how many foot soldiers she's got at her disposal. And she's gotta have some pretty strong feelings about Liv."
Porter stood up, taking a moment to stretch before addressing the group. "Frank arranged with ADIC Putnam to have all the agents on this case checked out—since they were all appointed by John Lamb. We can check to see if Delia Wilson has any of her people hanging around Hempstead, at the same time… We've got some resources in the local police department there."
"Great… That's a start." Nick glanced at Olivia, quickly lowering his eyes. "There's more…" He cleared his throat and looked nervously at his Captain. "Word in the street has it that Cassidy is pissed at Benson—looking for revenge…" He risked a quick look from Olivia to Elliot.
Elliot jumped to his feet and advanced on Nick. "Where the hell did you hear that…?" he demanded.
Nick held up his hands, a startled expression on his face. "Whoa… I'm just the messenger here, man."
"Elliot…" Olivia warned, her tone low, but unmistakable.
"Geez, Nick… I'm sorry. Look, I wasn't blaming you—I just want to know where you got the information." He walked behind Olivia's chair and leaned down to whisper a quick apology, squeezing her shoulder reassuringly.
"From a couple of Ganzel's girls... Here's the funny thing: He didn't say anything about Olivia until after he'd been to see the girl's who'd signed on with Delia. When he came back he was making a big deal out of it, saying how he was gonna 'teach her a lesson—show the bitch.' "
Olivia sat quietly, absorbing the information Nick was sharing, not quite believing what she was hearing… She and Brian had parted on good terms, their friendship stronger than ever, and this didn't make sense—it just didn't ring true. She chose to keep it to herself. "Where's Fin," she asked instead.
Cragen looked uncomfortable, but figured if he couldn't trust this group, he might as well hang it up. "He's doing a little undercover work himself." He looked meaningfully at Olivia, giving her the shadow of a smile.
"He's looking for Cassidy," Olivia stated, not needing to have Cragen verify it.
TBC
Thank you for reading! Chapter 13 will be posted no later than next Saturday… If possible by Wednesday.
