Author's Note - Thanks for the reviews; I really appreciate them. It makes writing much more fun when you're not the only one enjoying the story. And you can thank the quick update on Something To Be, Rob Thomas's solo album. I've been writing up a storm since I got it. I highly reccommend it. End commercial break. Heh, heh.
" - a charm to counteract this ... curse, to nullify it until a cure can be found." He glanced at her as she entered the room. "Lavender," he said suddenly, turning on his heel and pacing back and forth in front of a pair of desks, "lavender promotes happiness, peace, protection ... love. Rowan has healing properties. Jasmine encourages prophetic dreams. Adder's tongue: healing, carnation: strength, wood rose: luck - it ... it's all here - " He gestured toward the laptop. " - there has to be something ..." He leaned on the desk, standing behind the chair like he was so fond of doing when she was sitting.
Alex walked over and sat on the edge of the desk across from where he was working. Silently, she handed him his coffee. He took it from her, took a drink and set it aside before her presence registered. He looked up at her, then at the coffee, then back at her. Without a word, he asked if she was all right, if they were all right, and she replied in kind, with just a small smile. The shy grin he gave her was far from perfect; pain and sorrow still shadowed his eyes, deepening the little lines on his face, but it was a start.
"Actually, Detective Goren," Munch said from across the room, "charms and talismans won't do much good against a curse as severe as yours. They're intended to relieve toothaches and migraines, clear up warts and acne, things like that."
"And you know this ... how?" Bobby asked, cocking his head to the side and peering at Munch over his shoulder.
"While you were - " He glanced at Alex. " - indisposed, I was busy following up a lead. That contact I went to meet turned out to be the real deal."
"A witch?" Alex asked. He nodded. "Did you rule her out as a suspect?" Alex reached over and closed her laptop. Bobby picked up his coffee cup and she slid the computer to one side. He sat down on the edge of the desk, one one foot crossed behind the other to keep them out of the way.
"I didn't have time to investigate thoroughly," Munch said with a dry smile, "but, no, she didn't curse your partner. As she explained it to me, this is a very old, very powerful magick, almost never used because of the price it exacts on the person casting it."
"Which is?" Alex prompted.
"Losing the ability to feel love, lust or passion for the rest of their life." No one spoke as they considered the ramifications. It was Sledge who broke the silence.
"How could you hate someone so much?" he wondered out loud. Out of the corner of her eye, Alex watched Bobby give him a long, contemplative look.
"This ... witch," Stabler said, staring at the floor and scratching his temple like he couldn't believe what he was saying, "did she say how difficult the spell is? How many years of witch school you need?"
"I was wondering when the sarcasm would show up," Munch said, arching one eyebrow. "She said the spell itself wasn't hard; practically anyone could do it, even someone who has never shown any magickal propensity before, as long as they believed that it would work and were willing to pay the price."
"So it could be anybody," Fin said, slouching against the wall.
"No," Alex said softly, "this was a personal attack. This was someone who'd do anything for revenge, someone who knew just how to hurt him." Us, she added silently, she hurt us.
"It's Nicole," Bobby said, resting his knuckles against his chin as he stared down at the floor. "She was very good at finding things, learning things. And she wouldn't hesitate to do this, to give up love ... passion ... for revenge. She murdered her own daughter, after all."
"Detectives, Nicole Wallace is dead," Stabler said, a little loudly, in her opinion. "No one has found a trace of her, not the Feds, not Interpol, no one, since she died." Bobby stood up and sidled toward Stabler. Alex quietly set her coffee down, but otherwise didn't move. Perhaps she was being over-protective, perhaps Stabler wasn't an angry person, perhaps this wouldn't turn into an inter-departmental cockfight. Yeah, and perhaps Nicole Wallace really was dead.
"You never met her, Detective Stabler," Bobby said, too deep in his own complex reasoning to notice that he was too close for Stabler's comfort. The shorter man took his hands out of his pockets and balled them into loose fists. "Nicole may very well be dead, but that just means that she's claimed another victim, just like Elizabeth Hitchins ... killed and her identity stolen. It's what she does; she's a ... killer."
"Where's your proof?" Stabler asked. "Where's the evidence? All you got is a hunch, a baseless theory. Maybe that's how you work over at Major Case, but here we invesitgate the facts, so let's stop chasing ghosts and come up with some living suspects." He glanced at Munch. "A ghost couldn't do this, right?" Munch gave him a 'What are you asking me for?' look.
"Come on, you two," Olivia said, stepping between the two men and placing a hand in the middle of each's chest. Stabler didn't seem to notice, but Bobby looked down at her hand as if he'd never seen anything quite like it. Alex stood up and took a step toward them. If the incubus was waking up already ... but no, it was just Bobby being ... Bobby.
"Detective Munch," Alex said pointedly, "this witch you spoke to, she didn't happen to mention a cure, did she?" Stabler glared up at Bobby for another moment, then turned away. Bobby ambled back over to sit beside her, his walk somewhere between dancing and stumbling. She knew he wasn't as clumsy as he sometimes looked, but she often forgot just how graceful he could be.
"Not specifically, no," Munch said, drawing her attention away from her partner. She'd have to thank him later. Had she stared for much longer, Bobby would have noticed, and God only knew what he might have infered from it. "She and her coven are going to look into it and call me if they find anything."
"How'd you get 'em to do that?" Fin asked, frowning at his partner.
"I cast a spell on her with my honeyed words and devilish charm," he replied with a smug smile.
"So, what do we do in the meantime?" Olivia asked.
"What do you think we do?" Stabler said. "We're the cops; we go get the bad guy."
Getting the bad guy proved easier said than done. Department records were a little lacking when it came to magickal crimes. Gee, what a surprise.
With a sigh, Alex leaned back in her chair. Her head brushed against something and she glanced up. It was the side of Bobby's jaw; he was reading over her shoulder again. At first glance, one might think that everything was back to normal between them, but then one would be a blind idiot. She could feel his presence like a weight on her chest, making every breath harder than it should be. His breath danced over her cheek, the barest touch, but she was acutely aware when it sped up after her hair brushed his face. She could feel the tightness in his body as he stood behind her, and there was nothing casual about the way his hand casually rested on the back of her chair.
She nearly jumped out of her skin when somebody's cell phone rang. She glanced over at Munch, but he shook his head. It rang again, and Alex stood up. The sound was coming from an unoccupied desk across the room. Olivia headed for it, but Alex beat her there. A quick search of the desk turned up nothing.
"Coat pocket," Bobby said quietly. "My cell." Alex found the phone, glanced at her partner, and answered.
"Good evening, Detective Eames," replied a polished male voice, soft and cultured, some hint of an accent - eastern European, maybe - mature, cool; dangerous. "I'm trying to reach Detective Goren. Is he available?"
"I'm sorry, he's tied up at the moment," she said, her words as carefully chosen as her uneasy tone. "Who is this?" The voice chuckled, a deep but sibilant sound, making her skin crawl.
"I assume that means it arrived safely. I'm very pleased. Has he been enjoying it?"
"We both have, thanks," she said, reigning in her sarcasm as much as she could. Bobby sidled up next to her, leaning down to listen, the scent of his skin making her stomach flutter. She forced herself to concentrate. "Now, to whom do we address the gift basket?"
"Not so fast, Detective," he said smoothly. "Did I hear a slight change in your tone just now? You sounded - " He drew a breath through his teeth. " - distracted. Perhaps your partner isn't as tied up as you thought. Am I right, Detective Goren?"
"I would have been ... ungrateful not to take your call. Your voice, it's familiar, but I can't ... place it to a face. How do I know you?" There was that hissing chuckle again and she felt Bobby shudder.
"We've never spoken before, Detective."
"Then why are you doing this?" Alex demanded, her temper flaring. Bobby put his big hand on her shoulder to calm her, like he'd done a hundred times before, but this time she tensed at his touch and he pulled back. She glanced at him, but his eyes were downcast, a frown on his face.
"Why?" the voice repeated. "Why indeed? Isn't that your job - to uncover the why and the who and the how? Why should I make it easy on you?" There was a muffled bang in the background. "Ah - now for the fun part. Is Detective Munch there with you?"
"He is," Bobby replied, glancing at said detective.
"Intriguing man," the voice said and Alex could almost hear the twisted grin through the phone. "It's amazing the secrets one can hide if one has the proper skills. He's not on his cell, I hope. It looks like she's got something important to tell him." A moment later, Munch's cell rang.
"Munch," he said from across the room.
"Hi, John, it's me," came the indistinct reply from over Bobby's phone. Alex felt the color drain from her face. She thrust the phone into Bobby's hand and dashed across the room.
"Where is she?" Alex demanded. Munch raised one eyebrow, but repeated the question.
"The corner of fifty-first and eighty-sixth," he told her.
"Get a unit over there now," she told Stabler. "The man who cursed Bobby is with her, near enough that we could hear her through his phone." As Stabler went for the radio, she glanced back at Bobby.
" - no need to ... you've got our attention. Just - just tell me what you want - "
" - to me, Kia, you're in danger ... I don't care," Munch said, alarm starting to color his normally dry voice," you have to - "
" - what she has to do with this. It's between you and me - "
" - officers on the way, just watch yourself ... That's what I'm afraid of - "
"No, don't!" Bobby shouted.
"Kia? Kia!" Munch jerked the phone away from his ear as a piercing scream rent the silent squad room. Alex turned away, her fist pressed against her lips. She made eye contact with Bobby as he slowly closed his cell and set it on the desk in front of him. Something ... feral looked back at her. He turned away before she could be sure, but it was like that hunger he got sometimes while beating a suspect over the head with their own twisted psyche, only scarier. If that darkness was a shadow, this was the silent, ravenous beast that cast it. "The line's still open," Munch said suddenly. "I hear sirens. Kia? Can you hear me? Kia?" He kept repeating her name, but Alex had this horrible, hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach.
"John," Fin said quietly, laying his hand on his partner's arm. Munch shook him off.
"It's about damn time," Munch muttered, then he started shouting, "Hey, over here! Here, hurry! Hello? Hello? How is she? ... It's Detective John Munch, you jackass, now tell me - What do you mean, she's not there? I was talking to her not sixty seconds ago ... Well, look!"
Even from five feet away, Alex clearly heard a male voice on the other end of the line cry out, "Sweet Mother of God!" Munch fell back against the desk, the cell slipping from his nerveless fingers. It skittered across the floor and came to stop against her shoe. She stared at it a second, the hollow whisper filling the room as it repeated, "Mother of God." She picked it up.
"What the hell is going on?" she demanded. "Did you find her?"
"I've never - seen - anything - " the officer stammered, sounding like he was going to empty the contents of his stomach onto the crime scene. She heard him swallow. "You guys better get down here, Detective."
"Damn it all, Officer," she practically shouted, "is she alive or not?"
"It looks like every bone in her body is broken," came the shaky reply, "but there ain't a mark on her."
Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue.