title: memory - chapter three
author: duck
rating: pg-13
author note: same as it ever was.
disclaimer: ditto.
- Special Victims Unit Squad room -
- Wednesday October 6th 6:04am -
John Munch was in no mood for any kind of pleasantries this early in the morning. He and his partner had only managed to snatch a couple hours of sleep in the crib before they'd been roused by Cragen's call. He'd sounded almost apologetic on the phone, telling John that Elliot and Olivia were making a mad dash for the station house to interview that Farley kid that he and Fin had spent several hours grilling. As much as he felt sorry for them given their situation, he couldn't help but loath them for waking his aging body up so early.
He rifled aimlessly through some of the paper at his desk before glancing across the desk to make a snarky comment to his partner. A predatory grin spread across John's face as he realized Fin was dozing, his chin propped in his hand. The fingers of his other hand rested on his keyboard and if his eyes had been open he would be staring at his monitor. John briefly considered waking him up nicely, but he was grouchy and his partner was the perfect outlet.
He quietly slid his top desk drawer open and rummaged around. After a moment of searching his fingers finally closed over the mini football that a former partner had left behind. He withdrew it and chucked it gently in his partner's general direction.
Fin let out a half-yelp when it collided with his forehead. Hmm, John grinned to himself, he had better aim than he'd given himself credit for. Fin frowned at him. "What the hell was that for?" He sounded as grouchy and ill-tempered as John felt.
John shrugged and gave him a look over the top of his glasses as he replied. "Because you were asleep and made too tempting a target?"
Fin scooped up the mini football from the ground and glared at John. "Your paranoid, bony ass don't need me piling on more threats." He tossed the ball back to John, who managed to catch it.
"You know someone from the Hood who'd be willing to take me out for the right price?"
Fin shook his head at him. "I could get you killed for free. Probably tax-deductible as a public service."
"Good to know I'm that much of a nuisance. But tell me, would you have anyone annoy you except me?"
Fin rolled his eyes at John. "Oh please, I beg Cragen for reassignment every day. I still get no relief from the torment of you."
"Well we're about to be subjected to the torment of Elliot and Olivia, so I'd recommend staying awake for this one."
"I hate drama," Fin sighed as he poked his keyboard.
"Who doesn't? They're not making a big production out of it though, so maybe we shouldn't either," John suggested. They hadn't said a word about it in the two days they'd been back to work. He'd expected at the very least an abundance of awkward silences on both their parts, but even through the paper work they'd been stuck on they'd seemed willing to speak to each other.
"It's not that I'm making a big deal out of it, I just don't know what to say to them. I don't want to say the wrong thing and set them off."
"We should just treat them normally. They'll let us know if anything's out."
"Normal huh? So I guess Cragen sending them home and having us interrogate their suspect is normal?"
John shook his head at that. "No, definitely not. The captain's just trying to do what he thinks is right. Wonder what's bringing them to the station house this early?"
Fin shrugged as he glanced past John. "Must be pretty damn important. I think they're here already."
John twisted his chair in time to catch sight of the other set of detectives as they rushed by the doors to the squad room. He turned back to Fin and raised his eyebrow. "The captain said the vic was in the hospital after a hit-and-run."
"He think Farley did it?" Fin asked with no small degree of skepticism. They had been with the guy all night.
John pressed his lips together as he thought about the question. "He's not sure, but I guess they are. It happened yesterday afternoon, so it very may well have been him. Want to go watch the show?"
"Hell yeah."
-----
Olivia stared through the glass of the interrogation room at the sleepy and confused Sebastian Farley. She cracked her knuckles as Elliot talked beside her, trying to calm her rage down slightly.
"Look, Liv, we've got no proof it was him so we're going to need to tread carefully here," he advised. Elliot may have lost his initial anger on the drive to the station house, but she hadn't. No way in hell was she going to let Farley get away with this. If he even tried to dick them around, she just might throw him through the mirror.
Elliot sighed at her silence. "Well, if you're going to hit him, at least keep it to the back of his head. And open-palmed smacking, no punching. It'll sting him, but it won't leave a bruise or anything. Want me to throw him against the window for you?"
She laughed as she turned to face him. To a cop it was almost a sweet gesture on his part. "Maybe if he doesn't cooperate for the first few minutes. Where's his lawyer anyway?" Elliot had scanned the guy's file while they were waiting for him to be brought from their holding cells.
"Mommy and Daddy sent the best, even though they're out of the country on vacation. They're somewhere over the Atlantic right now on their way home to help out in person. As for the lawyer they sent, Munch and Fin seemed to have boxed him pretty well out of the questioning. He was there, but they ignored him. If he demands him again, we'll have to bring him back in." Elliot sighed as he flipped open the folder he still held. "I'll get his contact information ready just in case."
"Doesn't mean we can't question him in the meantime."
"If he says no, we don't." Olivia glared at him. "*We* know he did this, but for now it's a gut instinct and we have no evidence to back it up until they can examine his car. Let's not blow our first case back."
Though she didn't let up on the intensity if her glare, she knew he was right. Being violent like she wanted would probably only give him a "police brutality" get-out-of-jail-free card, and that was the last thing she wanted.
"All right," she sighed. "We'll play it cooler." He gave her a relieved half-smile. "For now," she added. "And I get to be bad cop."
"I'd assumed as much," he said dryly. "I'll go in first then?" She nodded and he headed for the door. "Come in whenever you think he's ready for it."
He handed her the files and made a move for the door, opening it and stepping through. The adrenaline began to pound in her veins as the thrill of the hunt took over. Sometimes she thought interrogating and nailing a perp was better than sex. The intrigue, acting, deception. They all sent her into a hyperaware and excited state. Which was ultimately for the best; it meant she was watching her partner's back better.
Through the one-way glass she watched Farley sleepily swing his focus to Elliot, giving him the once over and a yawn. He clearly considered the police beneath him and his body language screamed that they weren't worth his time. He was stretched out in his chair, his arms crossed across his chest and feet beneath the table. Elliot gave him an apologetic grin and settled across from him with his back to Olivia, so she couldn't see his facial expressions any further.
She let herself concentrate entirely on Farley and leaned over to switch on the one-way intercom on the wall. Elliot's voice filtered through the scratchy speakers.
"--sorry about all this, but the detectives that interviewed you last night did a less than thorough job." His voice dripped with disdain for Munch and Fin, completely feigned of course. Every time he had to act out of his own character for the benefit of interrogation, Olivia felt a fresh sense of appreciation for his acting skills. The thought even crossed her mind that maybe he'd missed his calling.
From the vaguely sympathetic look on Farley's face, she surmised he was falling for it. "Well, detective, you really have to eliminate the dead weight. It's the same as any business." Olivia saw Elliot nod vigorously at Farley's word.
"You know, I file complaints about them. But my captain, he just tells me to shut up and get back to work; that these idiots--who can't even question a suspect properly--they have seniority over me." Elliot paused to shake his head. "Why do you think my partner and I were the ones searching your apartment? It's a grunt job! The 'lead detectives' like that would never stoop to such lows."
"Glad he thinks so highly of us." She jumped a little as Munch's dry voice muttered in her ear. She hadn't even heard him and Fin approach. "Although in our defense, we didn't have all the facts in."
"You know what he's doing," Olivia told him as she rolled her eyes.
"I'm just joking, Olivia," Munch said, a hint of worry in his voice. She sighed, knowing full-well the delicate treatment was back. She turned to the older detective, letting her attention swing away from Farley.
"You don't have to treat me like I'm going to break if you say the wrong thing, John." He gave her a mournful look, but didn't say anything. She glanced at Fin and saw the same sympathetic look on his face. "Either of you. Any of you. I am still the same person that I was before and so's Elliot. We just have a bit of a different set of experiences now. It might change our perspective on things a little bit, but who we are has not changed. He and I have and will continue to work out our own issues and do *not* need the rest of you compounding the problem."
Munch had the grace to look properly ashamed, but Fin's mouth had dropped open slightly in astonishment. When he recovered he gave her a small grin and said, "Damn girl. If that's how you want it, that's how we'll play it."
"Good," she said, mirroring his grin and giving a short nod.
"We don't mean to treat you any differently," Munch said, his trademark half-smirk back. "We figured you'd let us know if we were doing anything wrong, and you did. I just wish we could have had this confrontation earlier."
"Or that Elliot could have been a part of it too," Olivia added, turning back to the interrogation room. Elliot was still working his way to Farley's good side and they were having an animated conversation about cutting off dead wood or some other such metaphor. "What the hell's wrong with this guy anyway?"
"You think he was the one who hit his girlfriend with a car?" Fin asked.
"One of his girlfriends, you mean," Munch corrected, glancing at Fin over the top of his glasses. Olivia gave them both an irritated look that she hoped they knew wasn't really aimed at them.
"You mean he has more than one?" she asked. She crossed her arms across her chest as she glared at him through the glass. "Figures."
"Yes. It seems your vic Nichols was just a girl on the side. He's been seeing his childhood playmate, Marna Rivers, since they started college. They grew up next door to each other and everyone expects they'll get married once he graduates. She, not too surprisingly, already works in Farley senior's firm as an analyst." Munch's voice oozed his normal sarcasm. "I hate love stories like that. Especially when they contain a sordid love affair."
"I don't think Lida knew she was a 'sordid love affair,' as you so succinctly put it," Olivia said, frowning as she thought through her previous conversations with the woman. "She seemed genuine in thinking that her relationship with Farley was going somewhere. I think she loved him and was under the impression that he reciprocated."
"When there's drug abuse involved, there's no love for the addict except for the drug," Fin added. "And I hate love stories where the guy beats the crap out of a girl and rapes her."
"I think we all do, Fin," Olivia sighed. Most of her anger had disappeared; perhaps it would be a good time to enter the room. She could still tap into her rage, but she could control it. "I'm going in, wish me luck."
"Good luck," Munch said, nodding as she passed by him for the door. She took a deep breath and flung it open, ready to raise hell.
[tbc]
author: duck
rating: pg-13
author note: same as it ever was.
disclaimer: ditto.
- Special Victims Unit Squad room -
- Wednesday October 6th 6:04am -
John Munch was in no mood for any kind of pleasantries this early in the morning. He and his partner had only managed to snatch a couple hours of sleep in the crib before they'd been roused by Cragen's call. He'd sounded almost apologetic on the phone, telling John that Elliot and Olivia were making a mad dash for the station house to interview that Farley kid that he and Fin had spent several hours grilling. As much as he felt sorry for them given their situation, he couldn't help but loath them for waking his aging body up so early.
He rifled aimlessly through some of the paper at his desk before glancing across the desk to make a snarky comment to his partner. A predatory grin spread across John's face as he realized Fin was dozing, his chin propped in his hand. The fingers of his other hand rested on his keyboard and if his eyes had been open he would be staring at his monitor. John briefly considered waking him up nicely, but he was grouchy and his partner was the perfect outlet.
He quietly slid his top desk drawer open and rummaged around. After a moment of searching his fingers finally closed over the mini football that a former partner had left behind. He withdrew it and chucked it gently in his partner's general direction.
Fin let out a half-yelp when it collided with his forehead. Hmm, John grinned to himself, he had better aim than he'd given himself credit for. Fin frowned at him. "What the hell was that for?" He sounded as grouchy and ill-tempered as John felt.
John shrugged and gave him a look over the top of his glasses as he replied. "Because you were asleep and made too tempting a target?"
Fin scooped up the mini football from the ground and glared at John. "Your paranoid, bony ass don't need me piling on more threats." He tossed the ball back to John, who managed to catch it.
"You know someone from the Hood who'd be willing to take me out for the right price?"
Fin shook his head at him. "I could get you killed for free. Probably tax-deductible as a public service."
"Good to know I'm that much of a nuisance. But tell me, would you have anyone annoy you except me?"
Fin rolled his eyes at John. "Oh please, I beg Cragen for reassignment every day. I still get no relief from the torment of you."
"Well we're about to be subjected to the torment of Elliot and Olivia, so I'd recommend staying awake for this one."
"I hate drama," Fin sighed as he poked his keyboard.
"Who doesn't? They're not making a big production out of it though, so maybe we shouldn't either," John suggested. They hadn't said a word about it in the two days they'd been back to work. He'd expected at the very least an abundance of awkward silences on both their parts, but even through the paper work they'd been stuck on they'd seemed willing to speak to each other.
"It's not that I'm making a big deal out of it, I just don't know what to say to them. I don't want to say the wrong thing and set them off."
"We should just treat them normally. They'll let us know if anything's out."
"Normal huh? So I guess Cragen sending them home and having us interrogate their suspect is normal?"
John shook his head at that. "No, definitely not. The captain's just trying to do what he thinks is right. Wonder what's bringing them to the station house this early?"
Fin shrugged as he glanced past John. "Must be pretty damn important. I think they're here already."
John twisted his chair in time to catch sight of the other set of detectives as they rushed by the doors to the squad room. He turned back to Fin and raised his eyebrow. "The captain said the vic was in the hospital after a hit-and-run."
"He think Farley did it?" Fin asked with no small degree of skepticism. They had been with the guy all night.
John pressed his lips together as he thought about the question. "He's not sure, but I guess they are. It happened yesterday afternoon, so it very may well have been him. Want to go watch the show?"
"Hell yeah."
-----
Olivia stared through the glass of the interrogation room at the sleepy and confused Sebastian Farley. She cracked her knuckles as Elliot talked beside her, trying to calm her rage down slightly.
"Look, Liv, we've got no proof it was him so we're going to need to tread carefully here," he advised. Elliot may have lost his initial anger on the drive to the station house, but she hadn't. No way in hell was she going to let Farley get away with this. If he even tried to dick them around, she just might throw him through the mirror.
Elliot sighed at her silence. "Well, if you're going to hit him, at least keep it to the back of his head. And open-palmed smacking, no punching. It'll sting him, but it won't leave a bruise or anything. Want me to throw him against the window for you?"
She laughed as she turned to face him. To a cop it was almost a sweet gesture on his part. "Maybe if he doesn't cooperate for the first few minutes. Where's his lawyer anyway?" Elliot had scanned the guy's file while they were waiting for him to be brought from their holding cells.
"Mommy and Daddy sent the best, even though they're out of the country on vacation. They're somewhere over the Atlantic right now on their way home to help out in person. As for the lawyer they sent, Munch and Fin seemed to have boxed him pretty well out of the questioning. He was there, but they ignored him. If he demands him again, we'll have to bring him back in." Elliot sighed as he flipped open the folder he still held. "I'll get his contact information ready just in case."
"Doesn't mean we can't question him in the meantime."
"If he says no, we don't." Olivia glared at him. "*We* know he did this, but for now it's a gut instinct and we have no evidence to back it up until they can examine his car. Let's not blow our first case back."
Though she didn't let up on the intensity if her glare, she knew he was right. Being violent like she wanted would probably only give him a "police brutality" get-out-of-jail-free card, and that was the last thing she wanted.
"All right," she sighed. "We'll play it cooler." He gave her a relieved half-smile. "For now," she added. "And I get to be bad cop."
"I'd assumed as much," he said dryly. "I'll go in first then?" She nodded and he headed for the door. "Come in whenever you think he's ready for it."
He handed her the files and made a move for the door, opening it and stepping through. The adrenaline began to pound in her veins as the thrill of the hunt took over. Sometimes she thought interrogating and nailing a perp was better than sex. The intrigue, acting, deception. They all sent her into a hyperaware and excited state. Which was ultimately for the best; it meant she was watching her partner's back better.
Through the one-way glass she watched Farley sleepily swing his focus to Elliot, giving him the once over and a yawn. He clearly considered the police beneath him and his body language screamed that they weren't worth his time. He was stretched out in his chair, his arms crossed across his chest and feet beneath the table. Elliot gave him an apologetic grin and settled across from him with his back to Olivia, so she couldn't see his facial expressions any further.
She let herself concentrate entirely on Farley and leaned over to switch on the one-way intercom on the wall. Elliot's voice filtered through the scratchy speakers.
"--sorry about all this, but the detectives that interviewed you last night did a less than thorough job." His voice dripped with disdain for Munch and Fin, completely feigned of course. Every time he had to act out of his own character for the benefit of interrogation, Olivia felt a fresh sense of appreciation for his acting skills. The thought even crossed her mind that maybe he'd missed his calling.
From the vaguely sympathetic look on Farley's face, she surmised he was falling for it. "Well, detective, you really have to eliminate the dead weight. It's the same as any business." Olivia saw Elliot nod vigorously at Farley's word.
"You know, I file complaints about them. But my captain, he just tells me to shut up and get back to work; that these idiots--who can't even question a suspect properly--they have seniority over me." Elliot paused to shake his head. "Why do you think my partner and I were the ones searching your apartment? It's a grunt job! The 'lead detectives' like that would never stoop to such lows."
"Glad he thinks so highly of us." She jumped a little as Munch's dry voice muttered in her ear. She hadn't even heard him and Fin approach. "Although in our defense, we didn't have all the facts in."
"You know what he's doing," Olivia told him as she rolled her eyes.
"I'm just joking, Olivia," Munch said, a hint of worry in his voice. She sighed, knowing full-well the delicate treatment was back. She turned to the older detective, letting her attention swing away from Farley.
"You don't have to treat me like I'm going to break if you say the wrong thing, John." He gave her a mournful look, but didn't say anything. She glanced at Fin and saw the same sympathetic look on his face. "Either of you. Any of you. I am still the same person that I was before and so's Elliot. We just have a bit of a different set of experiences now. It might change our perspective on things a little bit, but who we are has not changed. He and I have and will continue to work out our own issues and do *not* need the rest of you compounding the problem."
Munch had the grace to look properly ashamed, but Fin's mouth had dropped open slightly in astonishment. When he recovered he gave her a small grin and said, "Damn girl. If that's how you want it, that's how we'll play it."
"Good," she said, mirroring his grin and giving a short nod.
"We don't mean to treat you any differently," Munch said, his trademark half-smirk back. "We figured you'd let us know if we were doing anything wrong, and you did. I just wish we could have had this confrontation earlier."
"Or that Elliot could have been a part of it too," Olivia added, turning back to the interrogation room. Elliot was still working his way to Farley's good side and they were having an animated conversation about cutting off dead wood or some other such metaphor. "What the hell's wrong with this guy anyway?"
"You think he was the one who hit his girlfriend with a car?" Fin asked.
"One of his girlfriends, you mean," Munch corrected, glancing at Fin over the top of his glasses. Olivia gave them both an irritated look that she hoped they knew wasn't really aimed at them.
"You mean he has more than one?" she asked. She crossed her arms across her chest as she glared at him through the glass. "Figures."
"Yes. It seems your vic Nichols was just a girl on the side. He's been seeing his childhood playmate, Marna Rivers, since they started college. They grew up next door to each other and everyone expects they'll get married once he graduates. She, not too surprisingly, already works in Farley senior's firm as an analyst." Munch's voice oozed his normal sarcasm. "I hate love stories like that. Especially when they contain a sordid love affair."
"I don't think Lida knew she was a 'sordid love affair,' as you so succinctly put it," Olivia said, frowning as she thought through her previous conversations with the woman. "She seemed genuine in thinking that her relationship with Farley was going somewhere. I think she loved him and was under the impression that he reciprocated."
"When there's drug abuse involved, there's no love for the addict except for the drug," Fin added. "And I hate love stories where the guy beats the crap out of a girl and rapes her."
"I think we all do, Fin," Olivia sighed. Most of her anger had disappeared; perhaps it would be a good time to enter the room. She could still tap into her rage, but she could control it. "I'm going in, wish me luck."
"Good luck," Munch said, nodding as she passed by him for the door. She took a deep breath and flung it open, ready to raise hell.
[tbc]