title: memory - chapter two
author: duck
rating: pg-13
author note: wtf, mate? i think life gives me writer's block, like a disease or something.
disclaimer: ...not mine? i play with them anyway.
- Apartment of Olivia Benson and Elliot Stabler -
- Wednesday October 6th 2:42am -
Olivia lay tightly ensconced in the sheets of her double bed, staring aimlessly at the ceiling and frustrated by her constant inability to sleep. Even right after the kidnapping and the trial that followed she'd never had so much trouble falling asleep. The dreams had been a little rough at first, but at least in dreaming she knew she spent time unconscious.
She'd laid awake after cases before, but never like this. And the case they were working on wasn't even that bad. Well, not relatively speaking; they were all bad of course. It wasn't that difficult, she amended. She and Elliot had brought in their date rape perp and handed him over to Munch and Fin for questioning. Both she and Elliot had naturally wanted to do it themselves, but Cragen insisted they go home before he forced them to. Suffice it to say they'd been upset, but the captain had refused to back down. They'd grabbed take-out on their way home, grumbling to each other the whole time.
It was aggravating to be treated like a small child who was so fragile she'd break at the slightest hint of pressure. Elliot was feeling the same way, she knew, so they'd tried to talk about it. She sighed to herself in the darkness. They'd both been feeling too angry at themselves and at Cragen to get very far.
But neither this case nor her fading anger was what was keeping her awake. She hadn't been able to sleep before they'd caught the case that morning. She couldn't put her finger on exactly when the sleeplessness had started, but it was starting to make her less focused at work. Elliot had caught her staring at her computer screen earlier and she knew she'd probably missed something in her paperwork.
She rolled over and stared at her door. Maybe she should just call it quits on trying to sleep in here and head out to the living room at crash on the couch. Late night TV was looking better and better. She threw off the covers and headed for the door.
The instant the door opened the sharply flickering light of television in the dark assaulted her vision. It seemed the couch was already occupied by one insomniac. Elliot slowly dragged his eyes from the TV to her face and they stared at each other for a moment. A million thoughts trampled through her mind as she crossed her arms defensively in front of her. They hadn't gone to bed on exactly the best of terms. Apparently he was having the same troubles with the elusive sleep that she was. It wasn't something she'd noticed before tonight, so perhaps he felt guilty about their half-argument.
His eyes reflected the flashing lights of some talk show repeat or another, giving her the distinct impression they were made of liquid. It was disconcerting, so she let her eyes trail down to the old Marines t-shirt, then the blanket flung over his legs in a haphazard fashion. Actually he looked like he'd be perfect to snuggle up against, letting the heat of his body soak into hers.
She mentally slapped herself for going there, even in her thoughts. He'd made it painfully clear that he just wasn't ready for that yet. That morning had bordered on embarrassing, waking up in his arms and kissing him only to have him tell her it was too soon. Of course it was too soon and she'd been a fool to think of trying anything. She worked with rape victims every day, and while she herself wasn't feeling most of the symptoms of typical Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome she knew enough to recognize them in him. His reluctance to touch was the one that hurt her the most. He'd taken to jumping away from even the slightest contact.
To her immense surprise he reached out one hand in her direction, gesturing for her to sit next to him. She crossed the room in only three steps, but restrained herself from flinging against him. She needed so desperately to feel that human contact; it was as strong a yearning as she'd yet experienced. Gently lowering herself down next to him, she was surprised to feel his arm slide down to rest lightly against her shoulders. Lowering herself willingly into his embrace, she let him rearrange the blanket so it covered both of them.
They both still had yet to make a sound. For all their problems, she was grateful to have such an easy relationship with him on most days. The mere fact that he would let her rest so intimately against him spoke to levels of trust he probably wouldn't bestow on anyone else right now. She probably wouldn't either, now that she really thought about it. Here she was safe and accepted completely; no one here would treat her like she was about to break if they tread too heavily.
She'd barely registered what show was on before her eyelids slid shut and sleep claimed her.
-----
The phone cut through Olivia's brain like a fire alarm. The warm body underneath her ear shifted as he reached out to pluck the phone from the end table.
"Stabler," his sleepy voice answered. She perked up slightly, hoping to eavesdrop on the conversation. She noticed the TV was off and she'd somehow ended up with her arms wrapped around her partner's waist, her legs curled up under her. It was still dark outside the window, so they must not have slept too long. Too bad she couldn't see the clock in the darkness.
"Yeah," Elliot acknowledged into the phone. His voice sounded much more alert now that he'd had a moment to wake up. She let her eyes drift half closed again to just concentrate on the texture of his voice.
"Right. We'll be right there." Oh that was never a good thing, especially not when one was so comfortable just where she was. His body shifted again as he reached to hang up the phone.
"You're not going to like this," he said. She just groaned in response. "That was Cragen. Apparently Lida Nichols was the victim of a hit-and-run this afternoon."
"What?" Olivia sat straight up to look at him, even though she couldn't really see him in the darkness. "Is she okay?"
"The captain said she finally came out of surgery just now."
"We've got to get down there," Olivia said urgently.
- St. Katherine's Hospital -
- 436 West 82nd Street -
- Wednesday October 6th 5:32am -
"Captain!" Olivia called down the hall. Their boss turned away from the doctor to whom he was talking and spotted the two detectives hurrying to meet him.
"You know you didn't really have to come all the way down here; she's not going to be waking up any time soon," he groused at them. He waved his hand at the older man standing next to him. "Doctor Neil says she's probably suffered some brain damage, so we don't even know how much she'll be able to tell us when she does wake up."
"Have you interviewed any witnesses yet?" Olivia asked.
Cragen held up his hands, trying to slow her down. "The uniforms who were the first on the scene got only a vague description of the car that hit her. A large, black SUV, of which we have thousands in this city." He watched as his two top detectives, both of whom he was still worried about, looked at each other for a moment, obviously processing the bits of information in that old familiar way. For a moment he could almost believe things were completely back to normal between them, but he knew it was probably just his own imagination seeing what he wanted to see.
Huang had told him they'd be fine eventually if people just left them alone, so sending them home the night before--had it been that long ago?--had probably been a bad idea. He hadn't been able to help it though. They'd only been back for a couple days and he would be damned before he let them kill themselves over a case that was so easily taken care of by someone else. There was no need to have them pull an eighteen hour day.
"What?" he asked them after allowing them a few seconds to stare at each other. He recognized their stare as the one that had allowed them to function so perfectly and crack cases many times over in the past. He knew enough to trust they'd figure this out eventually.
"Sebastian Farley owns a black Cadillac Escalade," Elliot finally informed him. His intense blue eyes had leveled on Cragen now. "When did you say the hit and run occurred?"
"About five o'clock, down in the Village," he said. The intense scrutiny he was under kicked up another few notches, but Elliot quickly swung his inquiring look back to Olivia. Watching the battle of information that silently resumed in their gaze induced a wave of relief in Cragen. The hope that maybe they'd be just fine nibbled at the edge of his heart.
"He had plenty of time," Elliot said.
"Enough to do it, clean the car of any evidence, then get home where he found us executing the search warrant," Olivia continued his thoughts for him, indignant anger plain in her voice.
"The little shit," Elliot growled through his teeth. Both he and Olivia spun around and made a move for the door.
"Hey, where are you two going?" Cragen barked, halting them with just the sound of his voice. They both turned their bodies warily around to face him. Perhaps he'd used too much force in that. "If you think you're going to beat the confession out of him--"
"We just want to ask him a couple questions is all," Olivia offered. Cragen assessed them carefully, knowing they would wrangle a confession out of him one way or another. While he didn't want them to open themselves up to a brutality lawsuit, he knew they possessed enough discretion to keep it inbounds.
"Be sure that's all you do," he cautioned. They glanced at each other and nodded before turning to bolt out the door. Cragen just sighed and pulled out his cell phone to let Munch and Fin know the other pair was on their way.
[tbc]
author: duck
rating: pg-13
author note: wtf, mate? i think life gives me writer's block, like a disease or something.
disclaimer: ...not mine? i play with them anyway.
- Apartment of Olivia Benson and Elliot Stabler -
- Wednesday October 6th 2:42am -
Olivia lay tightly ensconced in the sheets of her double bed, staring aimlessly at the ceiling and frustrated by her constant inability to sleep. Even right after the kidnapping and the trial that followed she'd never had so much trouble falling asleep. The dreams had been a little rough at first, but at least in dreaming she knew she spent time unconscious.
She'd laid awake after cases before, but never like this. And the case they were working on wasn't even that bad. Well, not relatively speaking; they were all bad of course. It wasn't that difficult, she amended. She and Elliot had brought in their date rape perp and handed him over to Munch and Fin for questioning. Both she and Elliot had naturally wanted to do it themselves, but Cragen insisted they go home before he forced them to. Suffice it to say they'd been upset, but the captain had refused to back down. They'd grabbed take-out on their way home, grumbling to each other the whole time.
It was aggravating to be treated like a small child who was so fragile she'd break at the slightest hint of pressure. Elliot was feeling the same way, she knew, so they'd tried to talk about it. She sighed to herself in the darkness. They'd both been feeling too angry at themselves and at Cragen to get very far.
But neither this case nor her fading anger was what was keeping her awake. She hadn't been able to sleep before they'd caught the case that morning. She couldn't put her finger on exactly when the sleeplessness had started, but it was starting to make her less focused at work. Elliot had caught her staring at her computer screen earlier and she knew she'd probably missed something in her paperwork.
She rolled over and stared at her door. Maybe she should just call it quits on trying to sleep in here and head out to the living room at crash on the couch. Late night TV was looking better and better. She threw off the covers and headed for the door.
The instant the door opened the sharply flickering light of television in the dark assaulted her vision. It seemed the couch was already occupied by one insomniac. Elliot slowly dragged his eyes from the TV to her face and they stared at each other for a moment. A million thoughts trampled through her mind as she crossed her arms defensively in front of her. They hadn't gone to bed on exactly the best of terms. Apparently he was having the same troubles with the elusive sleep that she was. It wasn't something she'd noticed before tonight, so perhaps he felt guilty about their half-argument.
His eyes reflected the flashing lights of some talk show repeat or another, giving her the distinct impression they were made of liquid. It was disconcerting, so she let her eyes trail down to the old Marines t-shirt, then the blanket flung over his legs in a haphazard fashion. Actually he looked like he'd be perfect to snuggle up against, letting the heat of his body soak into hers.
She mentally slapped herself for going there, even in her thoughts. He'd made it painfully clear that he just wasn't ready for that yet. That morning had bordered on embarrassing, waking up in his arms and kissing him only to have him tell her it was too soon. Of course it was too soon and she'd been a fool to think of trying anything. She worked with rape victims every day, and while she herself wasn't feeling most of the symptoms of typical Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome she knew enough to recognize them in him. His reluctance to touch was the one that hurt her the most. He'd taken to jumping away from even the slightest contact.
To her immense surprise he reached out one hand in her direction, gesturing for her to sit next to him. She crossed the room in only three steps, but restrained herself from flinging against him. She needed so desperately to feel that human contact; it was as strong a yearning as she'd yet experienced. Gently lowering herself down next to him, she was surprised to feel his arm slide down to rest lightly against her shoulders. Lowering herself willingly into his embrace, she let him rearrange the blanket so it covered both of them.
They both still had yet to make a sound. For all their problems, she was grateful to have such an easy relationship with him on most days. The mere fact that he would let her rest so intimately against him spoke to levels of trust he probably wouldn't bestow on anyone else right now. She probably wouldn't either, now that she really thought about it. Here she was safe and accepted completely; no one here would treat her like she was about to break if they tread too heavily.
She'd barely registered what show was on before her eyelids slid shut and sleep claimed her.
-----
The phone cut through Olivia's brain like a fire alarm. The warm body underneath her ear shifted as he reached out to pluck the phone from the end table.
"Stabler," his sleepy voice answered. She perked up slightly, hoping to eavesdrop on the conversation. She noticed the TV was off and she'd somehow ended up with her arms wrapped around her partner's waist, her legs curled up under her. It was still dark outside the window, so they must not have slept too long. Too bad she couldn't see the clock in the darkness.
"Yeah," Elliot acknowledged into the phone. His voice sounded much more alert now that he'd had a moment to wake up. She let her eyes drift half closed again to just concentrate on the texture of his voice.
"Right. We'll be right there." Oh that was never a good thing, especially not when one was so comfortable just where she was. His body shifted again as he reached to hang up the phone.
"You're not going to like this," he said. She just groaned in response. "That was Cragen. Apparently Lida Nichols was the victim of a hit-and-run this afternoon."
"What?" Olivia sat straight up to look at him, even though she couldn't really see him in the darkness. "Is she okay?"
"The captain said she finally came out of surgery just now."
"We've got to get down there," Olivia said urgently.
- St. Katherine's Hospital -
- 436 West 82nd Street -
- Wednesday October 6th 5:32am -
"Captain!" Olivia called down the hall. Their boss turned away from the doctor to whom he was talking and spotted the two detectives hurrying to meet him.
"You know you didn't really have to come all the way down here; she's not going to be waking up any time soon," he groused at them. He waved his hand at the older man standing next to him. "Doctor Neil says she's probably suffered some brain damage, so we don't even know how much she'll be able to tell us when she does wake up."
"Have you interviewed any witnesses yet?" Olivia asked.
Cragen held up his hands, trying to slow her down. "The uniforms who were the first on the scene got only a vague description of the car that hit her. A large, black SUV, of which we have thousands in this city." He watched as his two top detectives, both of whom he was still worried about, looked at each other for a moment, obviously processing the bits of information in that old familiar way. For a moment he could almost believe things were completely back to normal between them, but he knew it was probably just his own imagination seeing what he wanted to see.
Huang had told him they'd be fine eventually if people just left them alone, so sending them home the night before--had it been that long ago?--had probably been a bad idea. He hadn't been able to help it though. They'd only been back for a couple days and he would be damned before he let them kill themselves over a case that was so easily taken care of by someone else. There was no need to have them pull an eighteen hour day.
"What?" he asked them after allowing them a few seconds to stare at each other. He recognized their stare as the one that had allowed them to function so perfectly and crack cases many times over in the past. He knew enough to trust they'd figure this out eventually.
"Sebastian Farley owns a black Cadillac Escalade," Elliot finally informed him. His intense blue eyes had leveled on Cragen now. "When did you say the hit and run occurred?"
"About five o'clock, down in the Village," he said. The intense scrutiny he was under kicked up another few notches, but Elliot quickly swung his inquiring look back to Olivia. Watching the battle of information that silently resumed in their gaze induced a wave of relief in Cragen. The hope that maybe they'd be just fine nibbled at the edge of his heart.
"He had plenty of time," Elliot said.
"Enough to do it, clean the car of any evidence, then get home where he found us executing the search warrant," Olivia continued his thoughts for him, indignant anger plain in her voice.
"The little shit," Elliot growled through his teeth. Both he and Olivia spun around and made a move for the door.
"Hey, where are you two going?" Cragen barked, halting them with just the sound of his voice. They both turned their bodies warily around to face him. Perhaps he'd used too much force in that. "If you think you're going to beat the confession out of him--"
"We just want to ask him a couple questions is all," Olivia offered. Cragen assessed them carefully, knowing they would wrangle a confession out of him one way or another. While he didn't want them to open themselves up to a brutality lawsuit, he knew they possessed enough discretion to keep it inbounds.
"Be sure that's all you do," he cautioned. They glanced at each other and nodded before turning to bolt out the door. Cragen just sighed and pulled out his cell phone to let Munch and Fin know the other pair was on their way.
[tbc]