First of all, I would like to thank everyone for updating! AglaiaWar, qt-angel, Opal Irises, svucharnedS.MFan, christopher-meloni-freak, tria246815, Katydidit, Lizzie9, nem, BowerPauer, fufubird, and TeacherTam.
Katydidit-I'm glad you're not upset that I compared you to Munch. That's not at all what I meant when I said that. I totally agree, you have to love him and his crazy government theories! ;)
TeacherTam-...seven, eight, nine. Oh, sorry. Just counting all your reviews! ;) Thank you so much! And believe me when I say that I never get tired of reviews, grammatical or not. I appreciate them all! While we're on the subject of grammar, I have a question for you, just because I'm curious and you seem like the perfect person to ask. (I hope I don't sound too stupid, because I know I should know this already.)Now, I know the words 'affect' and 'effect' have two different meanings, but I always get them confused. I was just wondering if you could tell me the difference? I'd appreciate it, thanks!
fufubird-I could tell you about some things later on, but that'd be giving it away! I'm glad you apprecate the daily updates. That gives me a reason to keep doing it. Yeah, and about everyone having lives? I'm one of those ones that pretend I do, for the most part. ;) That wedding was the only thing I've done all summer, aside from sit on my butt and spend hours writing this story.
New reviewers-svucharnedS.MFan, BowerPauer, and fufubird-Yay! Thanks!

Oh, I had so much fun at the wedding! It was so sweet! Maybe even inspired me for something later on in this story? ;)P
I got mixed emotions about the last chapter, and they were all good! Though, it sounds like I almost gave Opal Irises a heart attack with the OE fluff.
Now, because I never break a promise, I feverishly slaved hours over the computer keyboard, pulling an all-nighter, cranking these chapters out. So, I hope they're to your liking. :)
And, just a little note here, these nextchapters are mainly, maybe all, Benson and Stabler. If I've been reading almost everyone's reviews right, that should make most of you really happy. ;)

Disclaimer/Informational Note-I'm not one of those writer's who puts a disclaimer in every chapter because I think it's obvious I don't own this show or anything that I mention in this story, and I don't feel that someone would sue me over this. But nonetheless, I feel I should put this in here. Later on in this chapter, I mention the Christopher Reeve Paralysis Foundation. This is a real organization dedicated to rasing money for "funding research that develops treatments and cures for paralysis cause by spinal cord injury and other central nervous system disorders." I first found out about it through my grandmother and I'm not too familiar with it, but if you'd like to learn more, you can go to his website at I hope my telling you that isn't against any fanfic rules, but if it is, let me know and I can remove it. Also, I made that part up entirely, the donation and everything.

Chapter 39 – Benson

Lyrics by Montgomery Gentry – Something To Be Proud Of

That's something to be proud of
That's a life you can hang your hat on
That's a chin held high as a tear falls down
Gut sucked in, chest stuck out
Like a small town flag a-flying
Or a newborn baby crying
In the arms of the woman that you love
That's something to be proud of
Dad, I wonder if I ever let you down?
If you're ashamed of how I turned out?
Well he lowered his voice
And he raised his brow
He said let me tell you right now
That's something to be proud of
That's a life you can hang your hat on
You don't need to make a million
Just be thankful to be working
If you're doing what you're able
Putting food there on the table
And providing for the family that you love
That's something to be proud of
And if all you ever really do is the best you can
Well you did it man
That's something to be proud of
That's a life you can hang your hat on
That's a chin held high as a tear falls down
Gut sucked in, chest stuck out
Like a small town flag a-flying
Or a newborn baby crying
In the arms of the woman that you love
That's something to be proud of
Now, that's something to be proud of…

Benson

"You really need to get a coffee maker," I told Elliot as we waited in line at the coffee shop by his house.

"You could always go home and use yours," he suggested.

"And leave you all alone in that big empty house? I wouldn't dream of it." I'd spent the night at Elliot's again.

"Any possible way I could take those words back?"

"Too late," I grinned, turning around to order our coffee and donuts. As I had promised him, I was paying for his like he'd paid for mine yesterday.

"So what are we doing today?" He asked as I handed him the glazed donut and Styrofoam cup filled with coffee.

"Warner should probably have something about the rape kit, and we should stop by Emma's house, see if she can tell us anymore."

"Okay." He nodded and we walked out into the cold, back into his car.

--XXX--

"So what did you find?" Elliot asked ME Warner as we followed her around her lab, the sights and smells familiar, but not at all welcoming.

She handed me the report and I opened it, flipping through the pages. "There was obvious vaginal trauma and a torn hymen," she informed us. "I also found spermicide."

"He was wearing a condom," I stated.

"Yes, but it broke." She picked a picture up off her desk. "The doctor found this small fragment of condom inside her during the rape kit." The picture was a magnified snap shot of the condom. "I managed to identify the type of condom, Trojan." She handed Elliot a box of them, so we knew what it looked like.

"Did you find any DNA?" Elliot asked her, handing me the condom package.

"Thanks," I whispered sarcastically, stuffing it into my pocket.

"Yeah, there was a small hair in her underwear, not hers. The follicle was still attached. I ran it through the system, no match."

"But this couldn't have been his first time." I looked at Elliot, the information buzzing around in my head. "He managed to rape and shoot her in the middle of the day without anyone noticing. He has to have prior assaults."

Elliot shrugged. "Probably, just none that he's been charged with."

"Okay." I nodded and thought that over. "Let's go see what else Emma can tell us." I turned back to Warner for a second. "Thanks." I smiled and headed off with Elliot.

"Olivia!" Melinda's voice pulled me back.

"Yeah?" Elliot stopped as well, yet remaining out of ear shot while I walked back towards Warner.

"I heard what happened…" She offered as an explanation. "Are you all right?" She put her hand on my arm and looked at me with concern and care.

"Fine." I put my hand over hers and smiled, reassuring her.

"Okay." She managed to force a small smile onto her face. "But if you want to talk or anything, I'm here."

"Thanks." I held her hand in mine for a second before releasing at and walking back to Elliot.

--XXX--

"Maybe they aren't home." Elliot suggested as I knocked on the apartment door.

"El, she's got a gunshot wound and she was just raped. I doubt she's back at school." At the same moment I finished, I heard a voice on the other side of the door.

"Who is it?" Though timid and barely above a whisper, I recognized it.

"Emma?" I spoke loud enough to be heard through the door. "It's Olivia Benson. I'm here with my partner Elliot. We were wondering if we could talk to you." I held my ear to the door and looked at Elliot while I waited for an answer.

"Hold on," she called back. There were a few minutes of metallic scraping noises before the door opened, revealing Emma. Her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail and she wore light pink pajamas, adorned with puppies and kittens. She held a hand over her stomach while her eyes gazed over the doorway. She mustered up a polite smile. "Hi. Come in." She stood back and allowed Elliot and I to walk through.

"Thanks." Walking into the living room, I immediately felt a sense of homely comfort. It was decorated in old nick-knacks and family photos and heirlooms. There was an inviting aura to it.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to get to the door," she apologized, shutting and locking it behind her. "My mom's not here and my stomach's still sore." Watching her walk over towards the middle of the living room, I saw the pain in her face with each step she took. She was more than sore.

"Are you all right?" I stood next to her, ready to help her if she needed it.

"I'm fine." She shrugged off my worry and finally made it to a recliner, easing herself into it and trying not to show how much it hurt.

"Where's your mom?" I took a seat on the side of the couch, right next to Emma. Elliot, remembering the girl's reaction to him at the hospital, sat in a recliner identical to Emma's on the opposite side of the room.

"She's at work. She wanted to stay home with me, but I told her to go, that I'd be fine."

"Oh," I nodded and smiled understandingly. "Actually, we wanted to ask you some questions about the man who attacked you." I stole a glance at Elliot, motioning for him to listen in and take notes.

"Okay." I noticed her stiffen the moment I said that. She looked away and tried to hide the fear in her voice.

"Do you remember how tall he was?" I turned my head and tried to look at her as I spoke.

"About my height," she shrugged her shoulders, "average."

"Was he black or white?"

"White. The ski mask didn't cover his neck." I saw her take a deep breath and face me, her eyes already becoming misty.

"Do you remember how he was built? Like if he was skinny or fat?" Because she didn't see his face, body characteristics were all we could really go on.

"Neither. He was just average."

"Did he ever say anything to you?"

"Just once." She bit her lip and looked to the side, tears sparkling in her eyes. "Afterwards…" I knew she meant after the rape. "He said 'sorry' right before he shot me."

"Did you recognize his voice?" She shook her head. "Do you remember seeing any logos or brand names on the clothes he was wearing?"

"No. He just had a black leather coat and jeans on."

"Is there anything else you remember about him?"

She thought for a moment before she answered. "His eyes…" She whispered, now showing hatred in her eyes behind her unshed tears. "He had light blue eyes, like ice."

"Emma, do you know of anyone who'd want to hurt you, maybe someone that has a grudge against you?

"No, no one." She shook her head.

I turned towards Elliot, locking eyes with him for a moment. 'Anything else?' I mouthed to him. He just shook his head and flipped his notepad shut, stuffing it back into his coat.

"Okay. That's all for now Emma." I stood up and placed my hand on her shoulder, feeling her go rigid at my touch. "Thank you."

"Sure." She forced a fake smile on her face.

--XXX--

"Okay people, talk to me. What do we have?" Cragen paced through the office with his hands in his pockets. He restlessly looked over each of our faces as he waited for someone to speak. I was sitting on top of my desk, my arms folded as I flipped through random pages of Elliot's notepad, looking at the notes he'd taken. Elliot was leaning back on his squeaky chair, one leg sitting on top of the other and his hands laced together behind his head, his normal pose.

Fin and Munch were there as well, Fin leaning against his desk and Munch standing. Their case had been one of the simpler ones, the perp having turned himself in the day after the attack, so they had spent the day working Emma's case as well.

"We know that Emma was a miniature Mother Teresa before she could even do long division," Munch's rough voice spoke first, picking up a manila folder. "When she was three, her father was in a car accident. He became paralyzed because of a spinal cord injury. He died a year later because of complications. When she was nine, her mother explained to her what happened. Then she heard of the Christopher Reeve Paralysis Foundation and decided to start a fund-raiser, to raise money to donate to it to help people like her father."

Fin joined in. "Through donations, bake sales, car washes, and everything else, she raised over $10,000, all to give to the Foundation."

"Ten thousand dollars?" Elliot repeated, thinking he heard wrong.

"Over half of that was donated by big electronic companies and other CEO's of different store chains." Munch placed another picture on the board. This one was of a nine-year-old Emma handing one of those enormously over-sized checks to a man in a suit, the two of them surrounded by a large crowd of people. "And she didn't stop there," John stepped away and opened his notepad.

"We talked to her mom," Fin filled in for his partner. "Emma's also involved in community service."

"Like what?" I wondered aloud, studying the picture John had taped up.

"You name it," he answered. "She helps out at the animal shelter, she reads to patients in nursing homes, she's part of a group that cleans up parks, she's a candy striper at the hospital, she makes daily visits to the children ward at Bellevue to play with the kids, and the list goes on."

"We also went to her school. She's a straight-A student, on the principal's list, and she tutors and counsels kids in her spare time. Guidance counselor also said she was friends with everybody, not a person who didn't like her."

"It sounds like she's got the perfect life," Elliot remarked in amazement.

"Well, she did," I sighed, staring into the terrified eyes in the picture of Emma at the hospital. I mentally noted the silence that followed my statement and tried to ignore it at the same time.

"When you went to her school, did anyone happen to mention if she had any boyfriends in all that?" Cragen broke the awkward pause first.

"Nope. But there was a guy that everyone said had his eyes on her," Fin brought up, moving over towards the board with a picture in his hands. "Greg Reid, seventeen."

"So why is he an automatic suspect?" Elliot asked, leaning forward.

"Because he has a problem with rejection." He slapped the snapshot up next to the other two. The boy in the picture had short shaggy hair, a crooked grin, and striking blue eyes.

"Apparently, he asked her out in front of his friends. After she said 'no' and left, he told his friends, and I quote," John held up a finger, " 'I can't wait 'til that little slutty tease gets what's coming to her.' "

"Go pick him up," Cragen spoke, still looking at Munch and Fin.

"We'll go." I volunteered Elliot and myself, hopping off of my desk and grabbing my coat.