A/N: Your life is a reflection of how effectively you balance potential and kinetic energy.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the show or the characters, but, oh, how I wish I did.

March 30th, 9:45 PM

"At least he waited until after dinner to call us," Elliot sighed as he pulled a latex glove onto his right hand. He wriggled his fingers and looked at Olivia. "If we got called in while my mother was cooking, or while we were eating, we'd never hear the end of it." He rolled on his other glove, then smoothed the wrinkles out of his white shirt.

She chuckled and then tossed her head back to get her hair out of her face. "Speaking of your mother," she started, kicking her feet against the sidewalk, "How much did you tell her about me? I mean, before there was anything to tell her." Her gloved hands folded over the waistline of her brown pants.

"There was always something to tell her," he replied, his mouth twisted into a cockeyed and suggestive grin. "Enough for her to ask me if we were having an affair. She asked almost as much as Kathy did." He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head. "Why? She say something to you?"

Biting her lip, she nodded. "She wanted to know if we were ever going to have a church wedding, because she would have liked to be there, and she asked how you pulled enough strings to…" she huffed and let out a single, bitter laugh. "Your mother thinks you got a judge to wave a magic wand and consider you legally divorced, that we eloped and…"

"My mother has a vivid imagination," Elliot chuckled, tugging once on his black belt. "I'll take care of it, all right? She just…she's very religious and she needs to believe that we're married before we have a baby, since, uh, the last time…with Kathy…"

"Detectives," Melinda Warner called over her shoulder, pulling her focus from the body she'd been examining. Her blue windbreaker rustled as she moved. "Got something you need to see."

Elliot and Olivia walked toward her, eyes on the dumpster and the body folded over its side. "What's up, Doc," Elliot joked. He laughed to himself, watching Warner roll her eyes.

"Wanted you to see this before I had my guys pull her out of this thing. Scarring on her right arm," Melinda reached up into the dumpster, then rolled the victim's shoulder and lifted her forearm into the view of the two detectives behind her. "She's been branded."

Olivia squinted as she raised her cell phone, swiped to find her camera app, and took four clear pictures of the raised, raw scar. "I'll send these to Fin and Ryan, have them run through the system." She looked at Elliot. "Either a gang or a trafficking ring." Her eyes turned back down toward the victim's arm, her gaze ran up to the poor girl's bruised face and then down to her red and raw wrists before she focused again on the raised scar. "Looks almost healed, so Mel, how long would it take…"

"To fully heal, eight months to a year," Warner stated, then dropped the victim's arm and backed up a bit. "She still has peeling skin around the edges so this happened about six months ago." She signaled to two members of her team to pull the body out of the dumpster. "I'll do a full exam, let you know whatever else I find." She looked over at Olivia. "CSU give you her purse?"

Nodding, Olivia said, "We went through it, already. This wasn't a mugging, wallet is full of cash, her phone and keys are in there." She jutted a thumb over her shoulder. "It's all bagged, boxed, and in the car."

Melinda looked at her with a silent plea. "Who am I about to cut open, Liv?" She blinked once. "Who is she? Do you know?"

Inhaling deeply, Olivia rolled her shoulders. "We know who she is," she confirmed. "Her name is Blair Carlisle. She comes from a prominent family on the Upper East Side, so once we get the parents involved and tell them what we know, things are gonna get messy."

"Don't they always," Warner cracked, then looked over at the broken girl and her team again. "She's a long way from home. They report her missing or anything?"

"No," Olivia returned. "She was still living at home, but was obviously leading a life her parents knew nothing about. And now, we, uh…have to figure out what she was doing all the way out here, and if she belonged to a gang, a pimp, or…was sold to someone who was…" she cringed and sighed. "Done with her."

Melinda's eyes drooped a bit, her face fell, and she exhaled sharply once. As she watched her technicians lay the victim down on a blue plastic sheet, she shook her head. Turning to Elliot she said, "You be gentle when you tell her parents, but when you find the asshole that did this…" she licked her lips. "Be anything but gentle." She gritted her teeth. "No human being should be thrown out with the trash, especially this pretty, young thing."

"Trust me," Elliot said, "The son of a bitch who did this deserves that and more." He licked his lips, rubbed his temples, and then looked over at Olivia. "Once she gives us a COD, we gotta go tell the parents, figure out what led to…" he pointed to the dumpster. "That."

"I've been doing this long enough," she said back to him with a regretful breath, "I don't need her to tell me anything." Her chin jerked slightly as she cleared her throat. "Purple and red discoloration under her eyes, around her nose, bruising on her mouth and jaw," she listed softly in an uncharacteristic monotone. "Skin rips on her wrists, probably caused by duct tape. Meaning she was strapped down, immobilized, while some sick asshole did God knows what to her before holding his hand over her mouth and nose until she stopped breathing." She sniffled once. "Then wrapped her up in a black garbage bag, drove her through the city and threw her into the most overstuffed dumpster they could find hoping the trucks would come for it before anyone found her."

"Liv," he whispered, his blue eyes landed on her face, and in the dim glow of the streetlight, he could see the tears building and hanging on her lashes. "We're gonna nail the bastard."

She scoffed and snapped off her gloves as she turned away from the scene. "I know we will, but there'll just be another bastard after this one." Holding up a hand, she took a deep breath. "Sorry, I'm okay, I'm good, I'm just…" she took another sharp breath. "You know why. Why I do this job. I just…lately, it seems like Cragen only calls us in for these brutal ones. When was the last time we had a living vic?"

"You think he's sending us out on rough calls on purpose?" he asked, a clear question mark on his face. "You really think he'd purposely keep you away from surviving vics?"

"Yeah," she huffed. "I feel like he doesn't think I can handle it. Maybe he's afraid talking to them will trigger…but we haven't been…" she looked at him. "When's the last time I had a panic attack? It's been a while, right? I can do my damn job without…"

"Woah, hey! Olivia!" Warner shouted and waved a hand fast. "I got a pulse! Very weak, but she's still alive! I need oxygen over here!"

With wide, shocked eyes, Olivia ran over to their car, leaned into it through the open passenger window, and grabbed a squat, square two-way radio.

As he listened to her radio in a change of plans, Elliot started snapping and pointing, making the crime scene technicians re-examine every square inch of the alley as Melinda and two EMTs got their miraculously living victim onto a stretcher. "You ride with her," he said once Olivia returned to his side. "I'll follow you in the car." He smiled and gave her a nudge with his elbow. "Still think it's stupid to have to call an ambulance and the ME to every scene?"

She rolled her eyes and chuckled, then bit her lip. "I'll call her parents from the bus, have them meet us at the hospital." She looked around, then very softly she said, "I love you," and squeezed his arm once before rushing toward the ambulance.

He watched her race to catch up to the EMTs and rolling stretcher, saw the way she looked down at their victim with a warm and comforting smile, and he inhaled deeply. "I love you, too," he whispered, then ripped off his gloves and tossed them into a nearby trash can. He moved back to his truck, got into the driver's seat, and started the car, ready to follow the ambulance that Olivia had once complained was unnecessary. Chuckling, he stepped on the gas and turned the wheel, then slapped the button on his dashboard light.

He kept his eyes on the road as he hit a button on his steering wheel, thankful that they hadn't yet swapped his Pathfinder for their beat-up sedan, yet. Listening to the loud ring, he cleared his throat, and when Cragen picked up the call, he said, "Yeah, Cap, I don't know if you got the message…"

"She's alive," Cragen interrupted, his voice filtering into the cabin of Elliot's truck. "I can send Fin and Munch out to Mercy if…"

"Liv is riding with the girl," Elliot interrupted. "I'm right behind the bus, we got this. Why would you pull…"

"You think she should be handling these emotional situations in her condition?" Cragen barked. "Amy undue stress or…"

"Hold on," Elliot spat, narrowing his eyes and turning the wheel. "What condition? Cap, she's not pregnant…yet." He squinted. "There's no way she could be, or even if…we wouldn't know, yet, so can you just trust her to do her job! Christ, she's the best cop I've ever worked with, and she's the most amazing person with the vics, you know that! That wouldn't even if she…" he paused, smiled. "You know, uh, she's only gonna be more protective, more careful, when she eventually is…having a baby." He licked his lips and smiled more broadly. "My baby."

"Right," Cragen exhaled, then cleared his throat. "Have you contacted the parents?"

"I'm about to," Elliot said, but his mind was racing, calculating days and remembering the last time Olivia reached for anything overly sweet or salty, then rolled his eyes at his improbable hopefulness. "Uh, I need their…" he licked his lips, turned the wheel as he followed the ambulance in front of him, and slowly smiled. The thought of Olivia already carrying his child made him happier than he ever thought he could be, even if it was only hypothetical. "Number, uh, phone number, Cap. The Carlisles. Eleven-Thirty-Six Fifth Avenue."

"Shit." Cragen mumbled something under his breath and then said, "I will call them, Phil used to be a good friend of mine, and I am…very relieved that his daughter is alive. I'll tell them to meet you in the emergency room. Oh, and Elliot?"

"Yeah, Cap?" He pulled the truck into a large spot on the side of the emergency entrance at Mercy General hospital, keeping his eyes on the stopped ambulance until he saw Olivia climb out the back of it. He waited, only hearing Cragen breathing. "Hello?"

Cragen sighed audibly. "Never mind, just…do your jobs and get back here in one piece." He hung up before Elliot could reply.

Slightly confused, Elliot killed the engine, got out of the car, and ran over to Olivia and the EMTs, walking with them through the patient entrance. He took a breath, tugged on his tie, and prepared to talk to doctors and their victim's parents. Stifling a yawn, he shook his head. It was definitely going to be a long night.

A/N: A high profile case and a surprise visitor...next.