Elliot Stabler had a feeling of dread when he reported to the safe house that night. He held his hand over the door and hesitated, reluctant to actually knock. Then he gritted his teeth and knocked firmly on the door. 'Stop acting like a moron,' he told himself. 'You've got a job to do, so get it done.'

The problem was that he had a chance to think about the things that Olivia told him, about his behavior with Casey lately, and Elliot came to the conclusion that maybe it wouldn't be such a good idea to be alone with her tonight, but he was already assigned to be her protection for the evening.

Patrolman Lawrence Kolinsky opened the door with a surprised look on his face. "Elliot. You're an hour early."

"Yeah, I finished up early at the precinct, so I figured I'd just come straight over."

"Ms. Novak, it's Detective Stabler," Kolinsky called inside, as he held the door open for him. "Hey, you mind if I take off early, Elliot?"

"Not at all. Give my love to Marie."

"Will do," Kolinsky said, as he grabbed his uniform jacket. "Goodnight, Ms. Novak!" When there was no response, he added, "She's in the bedroom, exercising. She can't hear me."

"I'll check on her," Elliot promised. "Take it easy, Larry."

After Larry left, Elliot placed the bag containing his dinner—a roast beef sandwich on rye with the trimmings—on the kitchen table. He removed his suit jacket and slung it over the back of the chair, and then he rolled up his sleeves.

"Casey!" he called. "You all right?"

When he received no answer, Elliot thought, 'Better check in on her.'

He strode over to the bedroom and knocked hard on the door. "Casey?"

"Yeah Larry!" she called from behind the door. "Just a sec!"

"It's not Lar—" Elliot started to say, just as she opened the door.

Casey stood before him, barefoot, clad in sweat pants and a tank top with a towel tossed over her bare shoulders. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, her skin was covered with a layer of sweat, and she was still the most gorgeous sight Elliot Stabler had seen all day.

When Casey first saw him, she was so startled that she recoiled backwards, which was a scene that was almost comical. "Elliot, you're early!"

She said that as if it were an accusation, causing Elliot to almost apologize until he stopped himself. "Uh, yeah, I got off…I mean, I left work early. I didn't mean to disturb your workout. I just wanted to make sure you weren't being held hostage in there or something."

"No problem," Casey replied. She absently fingered the bandages on the side of her face. "How's the investigation going?"

Elliot caught himself staring at Casey's bare midriff, and it took everything he had to drag his glance back up to her face. "It took an interesting turn today. I brought some food. If you wanna grab a seat, I'll be glad to fill you in on the details."

"Sure, just let me get changed, first."

"Ok." Elliot went back out to the kitchen, where he sat down at the table and set out his dinner. He shook his head at his initial clumsiness with Casey. 'Oh yeah, real slick Elliot,' he chided himself. 'Just try and keep it together from now on.'

When Casey joined him at the table, she was still barefoot, but now clad in jeans with a softball jersey that read 'Sex Crimes' across the chest. She took a seat across from him, tucking one leg underneath her, and asked, "So what happened?"

Elliot told her about Goren's theory in-between bites of his sandwich. When he was finished, Casey looked stunned. "The sniper might have been after you?" she said with amazement. "Hey maybe we should switch. Give me your gun and I'll watch over you tonight."

Elliot grinned broadly at that. "That's funny."

"Yeah, the thought of me with a gun is pretty funny," Casey muttered, self-depreciatory. Then she perked up. "Hey, I guess this means I won't have to stay in protection for much longer?"

"Sorry, but until we know for sure, you're staying put," Elliot said. He noticed she stared intently at his meal. "You want half of my sandwich?"

Casey shook her head as she made a disgusted face. "That sandwich looks very…meaty."

"Didn't know you were a vegetarian."

"I wasn't…until I saw that sandwich. Looks like you've got an entire cow stuffed in there. A really badly sliced up cow."

He rolled the remainder of the sandwich back up in its deli wrapping paper. "Ok, I'll stop."

Casey looked pained. "No, I'm sorry, Elliot. Please finish. Don't mind me. I'm just going nuts being in here all day."

"That's understandable," he said.

"You know what the scary thing is?" she asked. "Even if I somehow get through this—"

"You will," he firmly told her.

"But even if I get all this behind me, it can still happen again, can it? I make enemies every single day, just by doing my job. I'll never truly be safe, will I?"

"Would you consider giving up being an ADA?" Elliot asked.

"No," she said with a sigh. "As aggravating as it can get, I still love the work too much."

Elliot slowly removed his gun and placed it on the table in front of Casey. "Then you should think about getting yourself one of these."

"Uh, I don't think so," Casey replied, as she shied away from the Glock. "I don't like guns."

"Neither do I," Elliot said. "But they serve their purpose. And in your case, having one might help keep you alive. You ever handle a gun before?"

Casey sat with her hands clasped in her lap, staring timidly at the Glock on the table as though it were about to attack her. "I've held them up in court as evidence," she said. "But I've never actually used one."

"It's high time you did. C'mon," Elliot said, as he got up from the table. He unloaded the Glock by pulling the clip of bullets out from the bottom of the handle. He then checked the chamber to make sure it was completely empty, and then he held the gun out to her. "Here."

"It's not gonna go off?" Casey nervously asked.

"No, it's unloaded," he told her. "You can even pull the trigger and nothing will happen."

"What's the point of this, Elliot?" she asked uneasily.

"Just aim with it," he gently said. "Get a feel for it. That's all."

Letting out a deep breath, Casey stood up and took the gun from his hand.

"Hold it with both hands," he instructed. "Aim for that vase on the shelf; pretend that's the son of a bitch who shot at us."

When she did what he said, Elliot stood right behind her and lifted her arms slightly. He caught a whiff of a sweet fragrance that contained a hint of strawberries, and realized that it came from her hair, which was very close to his face. In fact, Casey was so close to him that she practically stood on his shoes, her back pressing up against his stomach. He glanced down at her long, slender arms, which were well toned in a sleek, coltish way from the rigorous exercise she did. He abruptly wanted to run his hands up her arms, and….

'Whoa Nellie!' he thought. 'Maybe this was a bad idea. Stay focused, Elliot!'

Casey continued to hold the gun out rigidly before her.

"How does it feel?" he asked.

"It feels goddamn great," she said in a low whisper. Casey abruptly placed the gun down on the table as she spun around and leaned into Elliot's body, running her hands up his muscular arms.

"Hey, hey, ok…wait a sec," Elliot said uneasily.

"Elliot, please," Casey said, her hands rubbing his shoulders. "Just listen to me. I've wanted to be with you for the past several weeks now, and I was too damn afraid to ask. And you know what? I'm so sick of being afraid. I mean let's face it, there's somebody out there gunning for us right now, and either one of us could get killed tomorrow. So why not enjoy ourselves? Why the hell not?"

As much as he wanted her, Elliot still thought of Kathy. Technically, they were only separated, not divorced. They were still legally man and wife, even though they no longer lived together—so he would basically be committing a sin right now, wouldn't he? And at the back of his mind, Elliot always held out hope that he would somehow get back together with his wife. But then, it had been Kathy's choice to leave him. And she was actively pursuing a formal divorce. But what he considered doing right now was still a sin in the eyes of the church….

"Do you hate me?" Casey suddenly asked.

"What? No, of course not!"

"You find me attractive?"

"Oh God, yes," he admitted. "Casey, you're gorgeous!"

Her hands were now clasped together behind his neck, her face right in front of his. "Then what the hell are you waiting for, Elliot?"

"Nothing," he whispered. He gently caressed her face with his hands and then kissed her passionately.

'Kathy, wherever you are, you'll always have a place in my heart as the mother of my children,' Elliot thought as he watched Casey slowly undo his tie. 'And I'm gonna have a helluva story to tell the priest next time in confession!'

Beauchamp Residence. West 92nd Street. Friday April 24.

Olivia pulled the unmarked squad car up in front of the Beauchamp's brownstone, with the emergency light on the dashboard flashing. She killed the siren, and pulled her gun from its holster the moment she got out of the car. The house appeared dark and empty.

'Please let me be on time,' Olivia thought, as she ran up the brownstone steps, taking two at a time. 'Please, God, if nothing else, let Lilly be safe!'

No sooner did she reach the front doors than they abruptly swung open. Olivia's police training forced her to stop short, as she aimed her Glock at whatever potential threat was coming out to greet her.

It was Lilly. The pajama-clad girl, whose large brown eyes were filled with tears, smiled gratefully at her and said, "Olivia! I knew you'd come!"

Olivia let out a sigh of relief as she holstered her gun. She bent down and held out her arms. "Come here, sweetie."

One of Lilly's twin dark brown ponytails smacked Olivia in the face as the girl hugged her tightly. Olivia then broke the embrace and looked Lilly over for any signs that she had been harmed. She appeared to be all right. "What happened, Lilly?"

Before Lilly could answer, there was a loud crashing sound from within the house, followed by a woman who sounded as if she were screaming her head off.

"Mom's real mad," Lilly said with genuine awe in her voice.

'Linda is the one making this racket?' Olivia thought, taken aback. She had assumed that Charles Beauchamp was the cause of all of this, that he finally flew off the handle and tried something with his stepdaughter. "Lilly, who is in the house?"

"Just mommy and him." She pronounced the last word as if it were a curse. Lilly never cared for her stepfather, and even refused to refer to him as daddy. "He got mad at me when I found his secret place, with the box full of videotapes, and he tried to hurt me, but mommy stopped him."

As Lily spoke, Olivia stripped off her jacket and put it on the girl. She glanced at the street when a squad car pulled up. Olivia had called for back up before she arrived. Two uniformed officers joined them on the steps. They were both men, one looked like a green rookie in his early twenties while his partner was a grizzled veteran in his fifties with steel gray hair that was shaved close to his head. "Benson, with the SVU out of the One-Six."

"Carlsen, Two-Seven," the veteran introduced himself, "and Lee, my partner. You know if there are any weapons inside, Detective?"

Just then they all flinched when they heard a burst of gunfire from within the house.

"That answers your question?" Olivia asked, as she pulled out her gun once more. "We gotta get in there. Can one of you stay with her?"

"Yeah," Carlsen said grimly, as he pulled out his own gun. He turned to his partner and said, "Stay with the kid. Wait out here for the others to arrive and apprise them of our situation."

"Got it," Lee said with a nod. He took hold of Lilly's hand as Olivia and Carlsen entered the brownstone.

They both paused in the foyer, their guns held out, as they listened to a man speaking rapidly. His voice sounded faint, as if he were on the next floor.

Olivia turned to Carlsen and mouthed the word: "Upstairs."

Carlsen nodded, and they both went slowly and cautiously up the steps, with Olivia in the lead. Once they reached the second floor, Olivia slowly followed the sounds of a loud argument until she reached the bedroom door. She carefully peered around the corner of the doorway, her gun at the ready, and finally saw Charles and Linda Beauchamp.

Charles sat on the floor of the bedroom, holdings his hands up, with Linda standing over him. She held a Beretta handgun to his head. They were both clad in their pajamas.

"I swear to God, Linda," Charles said, "No matter what you may have thought you saw, I never, ever did those things!"

"YOU LYING BASTARD!" Linda screamed. "I ought to kill you right now!"

"Linda!" Olivia called from the doorway. "It's Detective Olivia Benson."

"Is Lilly with you?" Linda asked.

"She's outside," Olivia replied. "She's safe."

"Good, then she won't watch me blow this bastard's brains all over the floor!" Linda cried, as she pressed the gun right up against Charles' temple.

"Detective Benson, help me!" Charles screamed shrilly.

'I ought to let her put you our of our misery, you son of a bitch,' Olivia angrily thought, as she holstered her weapon, 'but Lilly needs a mother.' She glanced over at Carlsen and said, "Put your gun away."

"Detective…." Carlsen said, in a tone that indicated he didn't think that was a very good idea.

"Put your gun away," Olivia firmly ordered. "Now."

"Panty police," Carlsen muttered derisively, as he very reluctantly holstered his weapon.

"Linda," Olivia called into the room. "Put the gun down."

"I will," Linda said. "Right after I blow this rat bastard's head off."

"Linda, listen to me," Olivia said, keeping her voice calm. "He's not worth it."

"Upstairs, in the attic, you'll find a hiding place behind the closet wall," Linda said. "In there, Lilly found a box filled with videotapes. She showed it to me before, and when I watched some of those tapes…." She shook her head in disgust. "I believed you, Charles! I defended you against everybody, and you were just using me all along! Everything that everybody kept telling me about you was true—you ARE a monster! And I was your patsy!"

'Oh my God,' Olivia thought. 'Casey was right all along: Linda really was in the dark about her husband's rapes after all.'

Olivia slowly stepped into the room and, holding out her hands, carefully walked up to the distraught woman. "Linda, let us arrest Charles, ok? What you're doing now, this isn't the way to handle this."

Linda let out a sob as the gun wavered in her hand.

"Linda, if nothing else, think about Lilly," Olivia said softly. "If you kill this piece of shit, Lilly will be safe from him, but she'll also lose her mother in the process. Let us have him, along with the tapes, and we'll make certain he's put away for the rest of his miserable life. And you and Lilly can move on with your own lives."

"Oh my God," Linda said with a deep exhale of breath. She suddenly handed the gun to Olivia, who quickly took it from her.

Carlsen came in with his gun drawn, but it was now aimed at Charles, who anxiously got off the floor and sat down on the bed. Several more police officers also flowed into the bedroom; among them were Captain Cragen and Fin.

Cragen turned to Fin and said, "Get upstairs and secure those tapes."

"I'm on it," Fin said with a nod.

Olivia stood holding up Linda, who had practically collapsed into her arms. "How long were you here, Cap?"

"Long enough to watch you calmly defuse the situation," Cragen said. "Good work."

"He attacked Lilly," Linda angrily told Cragen, "because she found his little stash of rape tapes!"

"I just want everybody to know," Charles Beauchamp said, regaining his composure, "that my wife has been under a great deal of stress lately, and that whatever she says can't be trusted."

"I'm no longer your goddamn wife, you bastard!" Linda cried. "I'm divorcing you first chance I get!"

Olivia quickly hustled Linda out of the bedroom and into the waiting arms of a paramedic. But before she left with the paramedic, Linda glanced nervously at Olivia. "Can I see Lilly?"

"At the stationhouse," Olivia assured her. "It will be all right, Linda."

Cragen came out of the bedroom and joined Olivia in the hallway. He waited until Linda left before he said, "Beauchamp's not wasting any time in ripping apart Linda's character. He's already making her out to be addicted to prescription drugs and prone to violence."

"That won't matter," Olivia told him. "His character's now in the toilet thanks to these tapes. Plus, we've got him for attacking Lilly—something which both Linda and Lilly will testify to."

Fin came back down from the attic. "CSU is upstairs now, dusting the place for prints. The box of tapes is up there and secured." He shook his head with disgust. "I got a look at the tape that Linda saw—it was still in the VCR—and after seeing that, I gotta say I don't blame her for going off the deep end. The bastard recorded himself raping his victims, Cap. And there are at least fifty tapes in that box up there. There are far more victims than we originally thought."

"Well, at least we've now finally got the evidence we need to nail the son of a bitch right to the wall," Cragen said. "This case has been a tough one for you, Olivia. You want to do the honors of reading Beauchamp his rights?"

Olivia's cell phone began to ring right at that moment. "Thanks, Cap. But I better get this."

Cragen strode into the bedroom and began reciting Charles Beauchamp his Miranda Rights. Olivia at least had the pleasure of watching the growing look of horror on Beauchamp's face as Carlsen was handcuffing him.

Olivia then had her own look of horror when she saw who was calling on her cell phone's ID screen.

"What's wrong?" Fin asked.

"It's Eric," Olivia said, as she grimly accepted the call. Fin melted away, leaving her some privacy as she brought the phone to her ear. "Eric?"

"Yeah, hey," he said. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied, touched by his concern. "Listen, I'm so sorry. Something came up. I tried calling you before but couldn't get any answer on your cell."

"Yeah, I always switch my cell phone off when I'm home," he said. "You should have called the landline."

"I should have. I guess that didn't occur to me. It's been very crazy here. Again, I'm really sorry."

"No problem," he replied. "I understand."

Olivia took a deep breath and braced herself for what she had to say next. "We gotta take everybody down to the precinct, and God only knows how long that's gonna take. It's safe to say that I'm not gonna be able to see you at all tonight, Eric."

"Ok. I understand."

Olivia shook her head. "I'm really, really sorry about all of this."

"Hey, Liv," Eric said gently, "I understand, really. It's all right, hon. Ok?"

She was very pleasantly surprised to hear that. "I swear you have the patience of a saint, Eric. Saint Eric, there's a good name for you."

He chuckled softly. "Listen, why don't we get together tomorrow night? Barring any emergencies, you can come over to my place. I'll make dinner, and we'll watch one of my favorite movies. Plus," he added, "there's something that I want to show you."

"Oh, and what would that be?" Olivia asked, intrigued.

"You'll just have to come over and see for yourself," he said cryptically. "But it's something that I've been meaning to show you for a long time, now. So, do we have a date?"

"Oh, yeah, sure thing," Olivia said. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

As she put her cell phone away, Charles Beauchamp was being led out of the bedroom in handcuffs. He gave Olivia an impervious gaze as he muttered, "You're making a very big mistake, Detective Benson."

"Tell it to your bunkmate at Rikers," Olivia shot back. "I'm sure he'll give you all the attention you need."

Several of the police officers—including Carlsen—burst into a round of hearty laughter at that. Even Cragen couldn't help but chuckle slightly as he followed the cops who escorted Beauchamp down the steps.

Fin leaned in close to Olivia. "So how are things with lover boy?"

"Great," Olivia replied, the tone of her voice still sounding surprised. "He says he understands and that we're on again for tomorrow night."

Fin shook his head. "Aw, that's it: you gotta marry him."

Olivia gave him a shocked look. "What are you, my match maker?"

"I'm just sayin' y'know? The dude's not a cop and yet he still understands our lifestyle? That sounds like a keeper to me, Liv."

'Eric does sound like a great guy,' Olivia thought, as they descended the steps. 'If only he wasn't so damn mysterious! Just what the hell is it that he's gonna show me tomorrow?'

To Be Continued...