Ava Cabot
Meet Me By The River
A Law and Order: SVU fic
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. Please enjoy.
Long, lost words whisper slowly to me,
Still can't find what keeps me here.
And all this time I've been,
So hollow inside.
Watching me, wanting me,
I can feel you pull me down.
Fearing you, loving you,
I won't let you pull me down.
Evanescence: Haunted
My mother was a woman of old-fashioned superstitions. She believed that a broken mirror brought terrible luck, that black cats belonged to the Devil, and that sunrises brought visions of things to come. A clear sunrise meant a good, conscious-free day. Cloudy mornings brought great sorrow. A blood red rising foretold oncoming trouble.
The sun was crimson today, and I shivered inside my bed.
It was summertime in New York, when the city is most crowded and congested with car fumes, humidity, and killers on the loose. We could find rotting bodies easily in the heat. The temperature couldn't mask what lay behind some group of bushes, or beside a dumpster in an alleyway.
The air conditioning in my downtown building was terrible. It was murderously (what a pun) wet in the summer, and frightfully cold in the winter. I stocked fans and heating lamps in a spare closet for when needed, but even they couldn't shake off the temperature woes I faced. At least when I was home, which was rare.
I opened my window, the only sounds that could be heard being a mourning dove cooing for its mate. I was sticky was sweat, exhausted, and wanted desperately to cry.
"You must be strong, Olivia," my mother had once said. "You carry a heavy burden that you cannot carry alone. Find someone to help with it. Find a man to love you."
If only it had been that easy. If only I could have found a nice, single, handsome man to call my own.
In some ways, I had someone like that. Except for the single part. Elliot was still married, albeit in the process of a mutual divorce with Kathy, his wife. Kathy still hated me with a vengeance. I couldn't face her after she served Elliot the papers. She would have killed me with just one venomous stare.
A burst of hot air hit me in the face. I blinked wearily into the bloodstained sky, wishing that I could sleep for a thousand years. I couldn't face another dead body today. Not today, not ever. Already I had hundreds of dead faces haunting my dreams. I wouldn't add another to the list.
It was like looking at a lineup. But instead of being the detective, waiting patiently for the person to make a positive ID, I was the victim, watching a line of solitary women, children, and men swerve past me in a dizzying array of bloodshed, tears, and eyes frozen in death. I woke up screaming a few times, the insane laughter of a felon ringing in my ear.
At least now I had someone to cry with.
Elliot stirred in my bed, blinking rapidly when he saw the empty space beside him.
"Thinking again?" he asked, his voice husky with fatigue.
"Yeah," I said softly, wrapping my wrinkled blazer around me. "I saw fifty before I woke up."
"Was the Kensington case there?"
"It was."
"You need to get shrinked, Liv. This kind of stuff isn't good for you."
"I'm not going to talk with Huang. I don't do well with shrinks." I smiled wryly. "I saw rape crisis counselors as a child, my mother trying to find some way to help me cope with my situation as a progeny of rape. The shrinks there thought I was traumatized beyond belief. The truth is, I was scared stiff. I couldn't talk to them, or my mother." I sighed. "I was seven, when I saw my first shrink."
"Want to talk about it?"
I chuckled. "Not now."
"Come on, it'll make you feel better."
"What I could really use is some coffee and some lighter clothes. It's so hot already."
He grinned, tossing me my robe. "You're hot."
"Shut up," I answered good-naturedly. I pointed to the kitchen. "You go make coffee. I'll shower, and then we'll switch."
"Can't I shower now?"
"No. I'll fall asleep in the shower without the smell of coffee keeping me awake. Now go."
"Livvie," he warned, as I began locking the bathroom door behind me.
"Don't call me that!" The door clicked shut behind me, and I heard my bed creak and moan with the weighted pressure of Elliot's bulk no longer there. Turning on the cold water, I could hear him padding towards the kitchen, humming quietly over the coffee machine. Satisfied with his efforts, I stripped and threw myself into the shower, goose bumps rising over my arms and legs at the sudden shock of the ice-cold water.
The numbing sensation encased me in a familiar cocoon. Sometimes it was easier to remain cold and unfeeling. It was better than having pain shoot through you, ransacking and tearing until there was nothing left to hurt.
That's how I felt after I found another body. Another life torn apart by someone else's pleasure for pain. It was a sight I was accustomed, but not necessarily comfortable with.
Elliot pounded on the door. "Coffee's ready," he shouted. "I'm running around the corner for some bread. You want anything?"
"No," I yelled, leaning down to pick up a bar of fallen soap. It smelled of the forest and crisp, clean air. It smelled like Elliot.
Now completely shivering in the cold water, I turned the spray off and shook my hair out, sending crystalline droplets flying to the window and door. Wavy lines cascaded across the fogged mirror, creating a striped pattern that stared back at my dripping reflection. I grabbed a nearby razor, cleaning my leg off with a few, quick swipes.
"Dammit," I said quietly, the razor nicking a piece of dry skin. A slim trail of blood slid down to my ankle, as I hurried to clean it off with disinfectant. I winced as the alcohol seeped into my skin, burning the infection away but causing me merciless pain. The peroxide reminded me of my childhood, when my mother, mostly sober, cleaned my scraped knees from falling at school, or skinned elbows for trying to ride my bike. But now as an adult, I just lick my wounds clean, hoping that the blood on me, usually not my own, will just disappear, as well as the memory to the person who shed it.
Outside my cell phone began ringing. I wrapped my robe quickly around me, rushing out wet and cold into the kitchen, where my phone buzzed and bumped around the counter.
"Benson," I said breathlessly, kicking myself for not letting Voicemail take a message. I assumed it was Cragen, or even Munch.
"Olivia?"
I stopped, the deep voice not registering in my memory. It could be one of three people. A wrong number, Munch playing a joke, or some random person trying to scare the shit out of me.
There was a beat of silence on the other line. "You don't know who this is, do you?"
The voice wasn't harsh or cruel, so I assumed that some perp wasn't trying to ruin my life with a prank call. But I was still freezing in my robe, longing for the warm steam that remained in my bathroom. I wanted my hairdryer. I wanted a blanket---anything to warm me up after a shower with a water temperature in the 40's.
"Who is this?" I demanded, ready to hang up. My finger rested on the red Cancel button, eagerly waiting to be pushed. I wanted to be disconnected to this stranger, and wanted to finish my shower before Elliot returned, seeing me dripping in the middle of the kitchen.
"It's Brian, Liv."
Now my heart stopped beating. Brian Cassidy was calling me? What in the world would he want with me at six in the morning? In any case, I gave up on the whimsical thought of returning to the bathroom. I grabbed a freshly washed set of towels from a laundry basket nearby, and padded myself from the cold.
"Why are you calling me?"
A soft laugh was his reply on the other line. "Do I need a reason to call an old friend? Come on."
Cassidy's boyish charm was once charming. Now, five years later, it was annoying.
"I'm busy, Brian."
"It's six in the morning, and you're busy?"
"Of course I am. You caught me at a bad time, and I need to get to the stationhouse."
"Olivia, wait."
"Five seconds. Talk now."
"I want to see you."
"I'm already seeing someone." I paused, Elliot's face popping into my head. "It's serious. I don't think I have room for another guy now."
"Who is he?"
"I don't think it's any of your business, really."
"I just want to look out for you. Isn't that what friends do for each other?"
"You left abruptly five years ago. You didn't call, write, or even speak to the rest of us for those years. A good Narcotics man named Fin replaced you. You did good work, but Fin is handling it better, psychologically."
"So, I'm weak then."
"No. SVU was emotionally hard to do. You're probably better off in Homicide."
"Who told you I was in Homicide?"
"Cragen." My voice was testy. "Now did you need something?"
"Two questions. Who are you seeing, and when are you free?"
"My answer is none of you business, and never."
"Not even for an hour?"
"I can't give up one minute."
"Please, Olivia?"
His pleading was irritating. My leg screamed for a moisturizer and my hair for a hairdryer. I wanted to hang up and finish getting ready. Clearly, the only way out was to go along with Brian's fantasy. I would answer his questions, and hang up.
Relationships were so much easier with just one person at a time.
"If I tell you, will you hang up?"
"Sure."
"Fine." I paused. "I'm seeing Elliot. There, happy?"
Even though we were talking via phone, I could see Brian's eyes go as wide as saucers, his mouth dropping a few stories, his mind going suddenly blank.
"Elliot's married."
"Elliot's divorced, now. He moved in with me, and Cragen has agreed not to squeal."
"What if I did?"
"Excuse me?"
"I said, what if I told the DA what was going on? I doubt she'd appreciate that there was a hot and heavy going on right under her nose."
"What is this, some attempt at blackmail?"
"Just meet with me, and I won't say a word. I just want to talk, that's all."
"I have work to do. I have a life that doesn't include giving in to half- minded revenge plots."
"You know I won't back down."
"That just means I knew you too well."
"What's with the past tense?"
"What's with the blackmail threat?"
The door creaked open. Elliot walked inside, carrying a small bag of bread and a bouquet overflowing with flowers. He set his bundle down, watching my tense face carefully.
"Who is it?" he mouthed.
"Cassidy," I whispered.
Elliot raised an eyebrow. He stuck his hand out, motioning for me to give him the phone. Reluctantly I handed it over, regretting what Elliot would say next. He was always bad with the men in my past.
"Hi, Brian," he said, his eyes lightening. I shook my head, knowing that he was ready to mess with Brian's head. "What are you doing?"
There was a pause, while Brian babbled out an answer. It sounded like a squirrel chattering from where I stood, but Elliot seemed satisfied with the reply.
"All right. If you threaten Olivia again, though, I'll personally make sure Homicide has a new position open. Yours, specifically."
More high-pitched squeaks.
"Fine. She'll be there. Bye, Brian." He pushed the Cancel button, setting my phone done carefully. He tossed me the flowers, opening the bread and setting three slices in the toaster.
"What the hell was that?" I asked, burying my face in the flowers. Elliot watched me carefully, taking in my wet hair and soaked robe.
"Okay, he caught me right out of the shower. Now will you satisfy my curiosity and tell me what I just agreed to?"
"Cassidy wants to talk to you, somewhere in town for a little bit. He's moving out West, and wants to tie up some loose ends before leaving. I told him that you would be out by the Hudson, around three."
"You set up an appointment for me?" I was completely oblivious that Elliot would do such a thing.
"I did." He kissed my cheek, taking the roses from my shaking arms. He gently pushed me back towards the bathroom, washing out a clean vase for the flowers. "I never said I wouldn't come, though. If you get into trouble, I'll be on him quicker than—"
"I'm a big girl, Elliot. I can handle Brian, should he pull anything. I doubt he would, though."
"I know," he said quietly, as I locked the door behind me, welcoming the warm, steamy vapors from the shower.
"But sometimes you're too brave."
I had been to the river before, with Elliot mostly. Either we were looking for another body, murder weapon, or once, for a picnic. It was sunny that day, with a gentle summer breeze rustling my worn blanket. We watched the sun set and drank red wine. It was a beautiful night.
Some nights though, we weren't so lucky.
Occasionally he could steal a kiss, when we were called in the middle of the night to a crime scene. After NYPD briefed us on the situation and we were sent back to the department, Elliot would often swing me from behind into a dark corner, kissing me like there was no tomorrow.
In SVU, there could always be no tomorrow. We lived life on the line, staring Death in the face and daring him to take us, whether a perp shot us or we died in the line of duty. To us, it didn't matter, as long as we were together.
But sitting here in the park by the river, I shuddered to think what life would be like if Elliot were gone. If he were dead, then a part of me would always be with him in the grave. We were bound at the hip, and nothing could separate us. Not even death. Despite my tank top and cropped shorts, I was still sweating at the thought of Brian confronting me.
Except for a few families and couples, the park was empty. Mothers were gathering their children like flocks of birds, grabbing sand shovels and pails, ice cream wrappers, and stray hats. Kathy would have been one those mothers a few years ago. Elliot always said she was a good mother, but a semi-decent wife. She tried to hold her marriage together. But after Dickie and Elizabeth were born, life for them fell apart. Mentally, they were already divorced.
A few women stopped to stare at me, staring into space with dark, vacant eyes. I turned to look at them, to flash my badge and make them get lost. But they round up their children and walked away, leaving me to my own thoughts.
"For you," said a husky voice behind me, as a small pile of wildflowers bounced into my lap. I looked up, Brian's facing smiling in mine.
I could see Elliot shift his position, sitting with his back turned on the opposite side of the park. His eyes were wary and alert. He was clearly expecting something to happen.
I absently twirled a buttercup. "So what brings me here, Brian?"
He sat next to me. "I don't know if Elliot told you, but I've been assigned out West. To California. I won't be back, for sure."
"California," I whistled. "Where the sun always shines, and the crime wave is better."
"That's Florida, Liv."
"No, that's life on the other side of the continent. New York is a hard place, and from what I hear, California's a lot nicer. Where are you stationed?"
"Somewhere in the Central Valley. I'll end up some farm sheriff chasing tractors, if I'm lucky."
"Maybe you'll have a nice cozy job in a normal city, like Sacramento. I hear it's not as bad weather-wise as here."
"You've been to Sacramento?"
"No, but California is decent everywhere, I hear."
"You hear a lot of things."
I dropped my flower. "I guess so." Tilting my head, I stared Brian straight on. "What's this really about?"
"I'm going to miss you, Olivia."
"Stop beating around the bush."
Brian acted as if he hadn't heard my words. "I have to tell you how I feel."
And then it happened---so fast, that by the time I pushed Brian's face off of me, Elliot was on him quicker than any murder or rape suspect we'd dealt with. I knew he had a half-mind to cuff him.
I remember that night well. The two of us were stupid and drunk, thinking our one-night stand meant something. We drank too much, almost died driving under the influence, and had sex that would change both our lives forever. Brian was a good man, but the not the one I could see myself with for the rest of my life.
Brian stumbled from Elliot's grasp, wiping a streak of blood of his mouth. Elliot rubbed his knuckles, freshly bruised from a quick punch.
"Bastard," snarled Elliot. "I told you not to pull anything stupid."
Brian looked from him to me. I remained frozen on the bench, watching the scene as an innocent bystander, and not within my own body. I was a deer caught in a car's headlights, a rabbit seeing a shotgun death.
The scene was almost surreal. Elliot stood towering over Brian, like two animals fighting over a mate. It was like some kind of sick special on the Discovery Channel. We weren't animals; we were cops.
"Sorry," said Brian. He stretched his mouth around, wincing slightly as his jaw popped back into place. Elliot had knuckles of steel, and no one ever dared to mess with him after one punch. Every perp who dared to fight was easily knocked down.
The sun was low in the sky now. Five o'clock wasn't typical sunset time in New York, but late-day shadows began falling from the branches of in-bloom trees. I stood slowly, adjusting my tank top, and avoiding both their eyes.
"I won't forget you, Olivia," said Brian quietly, his body hesitating to come near me. I wasn't mad at him, or Elliot for that matter. Elliot wasn't possessive--- he was just protective. He knew I didn't want Brian all over me. He acted out of reflex, not instinct.
"You'd better go," I said softly. "Bye, Brian."
Elliot jerked his thumb away. "Get going."
Brian nodded solemnly, but in defiance of Elliot's arrogance, kept his eyes on me the entire time he walked away. Soon, he was out of sight.
Elliot took my hand in his. "You didn't need to hit him," I said, my voice slightly full of resentment.
"You wanted him to kiss you?"
"Of course not."
"He was forcing himself on you. Being the overprotective partner I am, you know I had to do something."
"Are you always that violent for me?"
"Only when you're in trouble." He kissed the top of my head. "Which is often."
Off in the distance another mourning dove began to cry. Before us, the sun began to slip away in the horizon. The sky was full of blood again.
"My mother was right," I whispered, closing my eyes as Elliot held me close from behind. "Red sunrises do bring trouble."
"Did you say something?" asked Elliot.
I shook my head. "Just some old superstitions of my mother's. It's nothing."
"Let's go home, Liv."
But I couldn't just forget what had happened. Even though there was no body in this incident, there would always be another case, another body, and another shattered life.
There would always be tomorrow.
A/N: Isn't inspiration great? Because my muse felt nice today, I'm already working on the next part. Tell me what you think. Reviews always help me write better. Thanks!
Meet Me By The River
A Law and Order: SVU fic
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. Please enjoy.
Long, lost words whisper slowly to me,
Still can't find what keeps me here.
And all this time I've been,
So hollow inside.
Watching me, wanting me,
I can feel you pull me down.
Fearing you, loving you,
I won't let you pull me down.
Evanescence: Haunted
My mother was a woman of old-fashioned superstitions. She believed that a broken mirror brought terrible luck, that black cats belonged to the Devil, and that sunrises brought visions of things to come. A clear sunrise meant a good, conscious-free day. Cloudy mornings brought great sorrow. A blood red rising foretold oncoming trouble.
The sun was crimson today, and I shivered inside my bed.
It was summertime in New York, when the city is most crowded and congested with car fumes, humidity, and killers on the loose. We could find rotting bodies easily in the heat. The temperature couldn't mask what lay behind some group of bushes, or beside a dumpster in an alleyway.
The air conditioning in my downtown building was terrible. It was murderously (what a pun) wet in the summer, and frightfully cold in the winter. I stocked fans and heating lamps in a spare closet for when needed, but even they couldn't shake off the temperature woes I faced. At least when I was home, which was rare.
I opened my window, the only sounds that could be heard being a mourning dove cooing for its mate. I was sticky was sweat, exhausted, and wanted desperately to cry.
"You must be strong, Olivia," my mother had once said. "You carry a heavy burden that you cannot carry alone. Find someone to help with it. Find a man to love you."
If only it had been that easy. If only I could have found a nice, single, handsome man to call my own.
In some ways, I had someone like that. Except for the single part. Elliot was still married, albeit in the process of a mutual divorce with Kathy, his wife. Kathy still hated me with a vengeance. I couldn't face her after she served Elliot the papers. She would have killed me with just one venomous stare.
A burst of hot air hit me in the face. I blinked wearily into the bloodstained sky, wishing that I could sleep for a thousand years. I couldn't face another dead body today. Not today, not ever. Already I had hundreds of dead faces haunting my dreams. I wouldn't add another to the list.
It was like looking at a lineup. But instead of being the detective, waiting patiently for the person to make a positive ID, I was the victim, watching a line of solitary women, children, and men swerve past me in a dizzying array of bloodshed, tears, and eyes frozen in death. I woke up screaming a few times, the insane laughter of a felon ringing in my ear.
At least now I had someone to cry with.
Elliot stirred in my bed, blinking rapidly when he saw the empty space beside him.
"Thinking again?" he asked, his voice husky with fatigue.
"Yeah," I said softly, wrapping my wrinkled blazer around me. "I saw fifty before I woke up."
"Was the Kensington case there?"
"It was."
"You need to get shrinked, Liv. This kind of stuff isn't good for you."
"I'm not going to talk with Huang. I don't do well with shrinks." I smiled wryly. "I saw rape crisis counselors as a child, my mother trying to find some way to help me cope with my situation as a progeny of rape. The shrinks there thought I was traumatized beyond belief. The truth is, I was scared stiff. I couldn't talk to them, or my mother." I sighed. "I was seven, when I saw my first shrink."
"Want to talk about it?"
I chuckled. "Not now."
"Come on, it'll make you feel better."
"What I could really use is some coffee and some lighter clothes. It's so hot already."
He grinned, tossing me my robe. "You're hot."
"Shut up," I answered good-naturedly. I pointed to the kitchen. "You go make coffee. I'll shower, and then we'll switch."
"Can't I shower now?"
"No. I'll fall asleep in the shower without the smell of coffee keeping me awake. Now go."
"Livvie," he warned, as I began locking the bathroom door behind me.
"Don't call me that!" The door clicked shut behind me, and I heard my bed creak and moan with the weighted pressure of Elliot's bulk no longer there. Turning on the cold water, I could hear him padding towards the kitchen, humming quietly over the coffee machine. Satisfied with his efforts, I stripped and threw myself into the shower, goose bumps rising over my arms and legs at the sudden shock of the ice-cold water.
The numbing sensation encased me in a familiar cocoon. Sometimes it was easier to remain cold and unfeeling. It was better than having pain shoot through you, ransacking and tearing until there was nothing left to hurt.
That's how I felt after I found another body. Another life torn apart by someone else's pleasure for pain. It was a sight I was accustomed, but not necessarily comfortable with.
Elliot pounded on the door. "Coffee's ready," he shouted. "I'm running around the corner for some bread. You want anything?"
"No," I yelled, leaning down to pick up a bar of fallen soap. It smelled of the forest and crisp, clean air. It smelled like Elliot.
Now completely shivering in the cold water, I turned the spray off and shook my hair out, sending crystalline droplets flying to the window and door. Wavy lines cascaded across the fogged mirror, creating a striped pattern that stared back at my dripping reflection. I grabbed a nearby razor, cleaning my leg off with a few, quick swipes.
"Dammit," I said quietly, the razor nicking a piece of dry skin. A slim trail of blood slid down to my ankle, as I hurried to clean it off with disinfectant. I winced as the alcohol seeped into my skin, burning the infection away but causing me merciless pain. The peroxide reminded me of my childhood, when my mother, mostly sober, cleaned my scraped knees from falling at school, or skinned elbows for trying to ride my bike. But now as an adult, I just lick my wounds clean, hoping that the blood on me, usually not my own, will just disappear, as well as the memory to the person who shed it.
Outside my cell phone began ringing. I wrapped my robe quickly around me, rushing out wet and cold into the kitchen, where my phone buzzed and bumped around the counter.
"Benson," I said breathlessly, kicking myself for not letting Voicemail take a message. I assumed it was Cragen, or even Munch.
"Olivia?"
I stopped, the deep voice not registering in my memory. It could be one of three people. A wrong number, Munch playing a joke, or some random person trying to scare the shit out of me.
There was a beat of silence on the other line. "You don't know who this is, do you?"
The voice wasn't harsh or cruel, so I assumed that some perp wasn't trying to ruin my life with a prank call. But I was still freezing in my robe, longing for the warm steam that remained in my bathroom. I wanted my hairdryer. I wanted a blanket---anything to warm me up after a shower with a water temperature in the 40's.
"Who is this?" I demanded, ready to hang up. My finger rested on the red Cancel button, eagerly waiting to be pushed. I wanted to be disconnected to this stranger, and wanted to finish my shower before Elliot returned, seeing me dripping in the middle of the kitchen.
"It's Brian, Liv."
Now my heart stopped beating. Brian Cassidy was calling me? What in the world would he want with me at six in the morning? In any case, I gave up on the whimsical thought of returning to the bathroom. I grabbed a freshly washed set of towels from a laundry basket nearby, and padded myself from the cold.
"Why are you calling me?"
A soft laugh was his reply on the other line. "Do I need a reason to call an old friend? Come on."
Cassidy's boyish charm was once charming. Now, five years later, it was annoying.
"I'm busy, Brian."
"It's six in the morning, and you're busy?"
"Of course I am. You caught me at a bad time, and I need to get to the stationhouse."
"Olivia, wait."
"Five seconds. Talk now."
"I want to see you."
"I'm already seeing someone." I paused, Elliot's face popping into my head. "It's serious. I don't think I have room for another guy now."
"Who is he?"
"I don't think it's any of your business, really."
"I just want to look out for you. Isn't that what friends do for each other?"
"You left abruptly five years ago. You didn't call, write, or even speak to the rest of us for those years. A good Narcotics man named Fin replaced you. You did good work, but Fin is handling it better, psychologically."
"So, I'm weak then."
"No. SVU was emotionally hard to do. You're probably better off in Homicide."
"Who told you I was in Homicide?"
"Cragen." My voice was testy. "Now did you need something?"
"Two questions. Who are you seeing, and when are you free?"
"My answer is none of you business, and never."
"Not even for an hour?"
"I can't give up one minute."
"Please, Olivia?"
His pleading was irritating. My leg screamed for a moisturizer and my hair for a hairdryer. I wanted to hang up and finish getting ready. Clearly, the only way out was to go along with Brian's fantasy. I would answer his questions, and hang up.
Relationships were so much easier with just one person at a time.
"If I tell you, will you hang up?"
"Sure."
"Fine." I paused. "I'm seeing Elliot. There, happy?"
Even though we were talking via phone, I could see Brian's eyes go as wide as saucers, his mouth dropping a few stories, his mind going suddenly blank.
"Elliot's married."
"Elliot's divorced, now. He moved in with me, and Cragen has agreed not to squeal."
"What if I did?"
"Excuse me?"
"I said, what if I told the DA what was going on? I doubt she'd appreciate that there was a hot and heavy going on right under her nose."
"What is this, some attempt at blackmail?"
"Just meet with me, and I won't say a word. I just want to talk, that's all."
"I have work to do. I have a life that doesn't include giving in to half- minded revenge plots."
"You know I won't back down."
"That just means I knew you too well."
"What's with the past tense?"
"What's with the blackmail threat?"
The door creaked open. Elliot walked inside, carrying a small bag of bread and a bouquet overflowing with flowers. He set his bundle down, watching my tense face carefully.
"Who is it?" he mouthed.
"Cassidy," I whispered.
Elliot raised an eyebrow. He stuck his hand out, motioning for me to give him the phone. Reluctantly I handed it over, regretting what Elliot would say next. He was always bad with the men in my past.
"Hi, Brian," he said, his eyes lightening. I shook my head, knowing that he was ready to mess with Brian's head. "What are you doing?"
There was a pause, while Brian babbled out an answer. It sounded like a squirrel chattering from where I stood, but Elliot seemed satisfied with the reply.
"All right. If you threaten Olivia again, though, I'll personally make sure Homicide has a new position open. Yours, specifically."
More high-pitched squeaks.
"Fine. She'll be there. Bye, Brian." He pushed the Cancel button, setting my phone done carefully. He tossed me the flowers, opening the bread and setting three slices in the toaster.
"What the hell was that?" I asked, burying my face in the flowers. Elliot watched me carefully, taking in my wet hair and soaked robe.
"Okay, he caught me right out of the shower. Now will you satisfy my curiosity and tell me what I just agreed to?"
"Cassidy wants to talk to you, somewhere in town for a little bit. He's moving out West, and wants to tie up some loose ends before leaving. I told him that you would be out by the Hudson, around three."
"You set up an appointment for me?" I was completely oblivious that Elliot would do such a thing.
"I did." He kissed my cheek, taking the roses from my shaking arms. He gently pushed me back towards the bathroom, washing out a clean vase for the flowers. "I never said I wouldn't come, though. If you get into trouble, I'll be on him quicker than—"
"I'm a big girl, Elliot. I can handle Brian, should he pull anything. I doubt he would, though."
"I know," he said quietly, as I locked the door behind me, welcoming the warm, steamy vapors from the shower.
"But sometimes you're too brave."
I had been to the river before, with Elliot mostly. Either we were looking for another body, murder weapon, or once, for a picnic. It was sunny that day, with a gentle summer breeze rustling my worn blanket. We watched the sun set and drank red wine. It was a beautiful night.
Some nights though, we weren't so lucky.
Occasionally he could steal a kiss, when we were called in the middle of the night to a crime scene. After NYPD briefed us on the situation and we were sent back to the department, Elliot would often swing me from behind into a dark corner, kissing me like there was no tomorrow.
In SVU, there could always be no tomorrow. We lived life on the line, staring Death in the face and daring him to take us, whether a perp shot us or we died in the line of duty. To us, it didn't matter, as long as we were together.
But sitting here in the park by the river, I shuddered to think what life would be like if Elliot were gone. If he were dead, then a part of me would always be with him in the grave. We were bound at the hip, and nothing could separate us. Not even death. Despite my tank top and cropped shorts, I was still sweating at the thought of Brian confronting me.
Except for a few families and couples, the park was empty. Mothers were gathering their children like flocks of birds, grabbing sand shovels and pails, ice cream wrappers, and stray hats. Kathy would have been one those mothers a few years ago. Elliot always said she was a good mother, but a semi-decent wife. She tried to hold her marriage together. But after Dickie and Elizabeth were born, life for them fell apart. Mentally, they were already divorced.
A few women stopped to stare at me, staring into space with dark, vacant eyes. I turned to look at them, to flash my badge and make them get lost. But they round up their children and walked away, leaving me to my own thoughts.
"For you," said a husky voice behind me, as a small pile of wildflowers bounced into my lap. I looked up, Brian's facing smiling in mine.
I could see Elliot shift his position, sitting with his back turned on the opposite side of the park. His eyes were wary and alert. He was clearly expecting something to happen.
I absently twirled a buttercup. "So what brings me here, Brian?"
He sat next to me. "I don't know if Elliot told you, but I've been assigned out West. To California. I won't be back, for sure."
"California," I whistled. "Where the sun always shines, and the crime wave is better."
"That's Florida, Liv."
"No, that's life on the other side of the continent. New York is a hard place, and from what I hear, California's a lot nicer. Where are you stationed?"
"Somewhere in the Central Valley. I'll end up some farm sheriff chasing tractors, if I'm lucky."
"Maybe you'll have a nice cozy job in a normal city, like Sacramento. I hear it's not as bad weather-wise as here."
"You've been to Sacramento?"
"No, but California is decent everywhere, I hear."
"You hear a lot of things."
I dropped my flower. "I guess so." Tilting my head, I stared Brian straight on. "What's this really about?"
"I'm going to miss you, Olivia."
"Stop beating around the bush."
Brian acted as if he hadn't heard my words. "I have to tell you how I feel."
And then it happened---so fast, that by the time I pushed Brian's face off of me, Elliot was on him quicker than any murder or rape suspect we'd dealt with. I knew he had a half-mind to cuff him.
I remember that night well. The two of us were stupid and drunk, thinking our one-night stand meant something. We drank too much, almost died driving under the influence, and had sex that would change both our lives forever. Brian was a good man, but the not the one I could see myself with for the rest of my life.
Brian stumbled from Elliot's grasp, wiping a streak of blood of his mouth. Elliot rubbed his knuckles, freshly bruised from a quick punch.
"Bastard," snarled Elliot. "I told you not to pull anything stupid."
Brian looked from him to me. I remained frozen on the bench, watching the scene as an innocent bystander, and not within my own body. I was a deer caught in a car's headlights, a rabbit seeing a shotgun death.
The scene was almost surreal. Elliot stood towering over Brian, like two animals fighting over a mate. It was like some kind of sick special on the Discovery Channel. We weren't animals; we were cops.
"Sorry," said Brian. He stretched his mouth around, wincing slightly as his jaw popped back into place. Elliot had knuckles of steel, and no one ever dared to mess with him after one punch. Every perp who dared to fight was easily knocked down.
The sun was low in the sky now. Five o'clock wasn't typical sunset time in New York, but late-day shadows began falling from the branches of in-bloom trees. I stood slowly, adjusting my tank top, and avoiding both their eyes.
"I won't forget you, Olivia," said Brian quietly, his body hesitating to come near me. I wasn't mad at him, or Elliot for that matter. Elliot wasn't possessive--- he was just protective. He knew I didn't want Brian all over me. He acted out of reflex, not instinct.
"You'd better go," I said softly. "Bye, Brian."
Elliot jerked his thumb away. "Get going."
Brian nodded solemnly, but in defiance of Elliot's arrogance, kept his eyes on me the entire time he walked away. Soon, he was out of sight.
Elliot took my hand in his. "You didn't need to hit him," I said, my voice slightly full of resentment.
"You wanted him to kiss you?"
"Of course not."
"He was forcing himself on you. Being the overprotective partner I am, you know I had to do something."
"Are you always that violent for me?"
"Only when you're in trouble." He kissed the top of my head. "Which is often."
Off in the distance another mourning dove began to cry. Before us, the sun began to slip away in the horizon. The sky was full of blood again.
"My mother was right," I whispered, closing my eyes as Elliot held me close from behind. "Red sunrises do bring trouble."
"Did you say something?" asked Elliot.
I shook my head. "Just some old superstitions of my mother's. It's nothing."
"Let's go home, Liv."
But I couldn't just forget what had happened. Even though there was no body in this incident, there would always be another case, another body, and another shattered life.
There would always be tomorrow.
A/N: Isn't inspiration great? Because my muse felt nice today, I'm already working on the next part. Tell me what you think. Reviews always help me write better. Thanks!