Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.

Olivia followed her partner back to their car. He dug the keys from his pocket and tossed them to her, getting in the passenger seat. She started the ignition and, despite the cold weather, turned the air conditioner on low. She turned the vents toward her partner and positioned them so that the cool air would hit his face. Elliot sighed and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. "Thanks, Liv," he murmured.

She smiled sympathetically. "Do you want to stop and get something to settle your stomach?" she asked, shifting the car into drive. "Maybe some ginger ale or something?" He shook his head. "That's alright; my stomach's better now." He sighed.

"How embarrassing is that? I haven't thrown up on the job since my second week out of the academy." She knew exactly what kind of shame an officer felt when being caught puking at a crime scene. She had done it, too, as a rookie. She wisely kept her mouth shut to avoid striking any nerves.

They went back to the precinct. Elliot went to the coffee pot and grabbed two mugs. Munch approached him as he filled them. He got close to him and peered at him over the top of his glasses, keeping his voice low to avoid drawing attention. "Are you alright?"

Elliot glanced briefly at him and quickly turned his attention back to the coffee. "Yeah, thanks," he answered, equally as quiet. Munch smiled softly, briefly squeezing his friend's back before going back to his desk.

Olivia accepted the coffee with a smile of thanks and took a sip. She immediately grimaced and leaned forward to grab Elliot's hand as he was lifting his mug to his mouth. She rolled her eyes and took his mug, handing him the one he had given her. He looked at her sheepishly. "Sorry," he said, grinning.

The door to the captain's office opened and Cragen stepped partway out. "Elliot," he said, gesturing to him. "Got a minute?" He stood up, going inside, and the captain shut the door. He stood in front of the desk expectantly. "You feeling alright?" the captain asked. Elliot looked at him with slight puzzlement. "Yes, sir," he answered. "I feel fine."

Cragen gave him a look. Elliot recognized it….he had seen it so many times in his life from his mother, the nuns at his Catholic school, his daughters, his ex-wife…..it clearly said "I don't believe you". "Only first-timers throw up, Elliot," he said. He kept his tone light, sounding almost paternal. Elliot grimaced. He should have known that would have hit the grapevine right away.

"Olivia said you didn't sleep well last night." His head shot up from his gaze at the desktop. "Captain-"he protested. "You look wiped, Elliot," Cragen interrupted him. He held up his hand to stall the protests forming. "Go home. Things are light enough around here to accommodate. If we get any leads, Olivia will call."

He sighed. "Yes, sir," he conceded, knowing he would make it an order if he refused. He went to his desk and gathered his files. "Someone has a big mouth," he grumbled good-naturedly. She knew he wasn't upset, and smiled. He was tired, he had to admit, and despite what he'd told Olivia earlier, his stomach was quite queasy. "Get some sleep," she advised. He nodded, smiling. "See ya tomorrow," she said.

The man watched as Elliot got into his Explorer and pulled out of the parking lot. He pulled his station wagon away from the curb a minute later and followed from three cars behind.

The drive back to his apartment seemed longer than usual for some reason, probably because he wasn't used to going home in the middle of the day. Well…may as well enjoy it, he thought. It probably won't happen again for 10 years! . He turned on the radio, stopping when he heard an Aerosmith song. "Alright!" he cried, cranking it up. No one in the office knew how much he loved listening to Aerosmith….and singing along as loud as possible.

He was sure he looked ridiculous singing and beating the steering wheel in time to the music, but…what the heck? It wasn't like there was anyone around to see him. He smiled as the song ended, and turned down the radio. He took the Queens exit and found the highway deserted. He was startled when the SUV began to speed up. He quickly tapped the brakes, thinking the accelerator had stuck, and they didn't move. "What the hell?" he cried, swerving as he went into the other lane. The speedometer continued to climb. 45 mph….55 mph… Elliot took his foot off of the gas. The truck didn't slow. He pumped the brakes. Nothing. .

Elliot started to panic when he saw the dead end street straight in front of him. He jerked the steering wheel to the left and the tires squealed as the Explorer became airborne. A tree appeared in front of him before he could blink, and the truck slammed into it. His head smacked the steering column as the air bag deployed with brutal force.

The station wagon pulled up behind him, the driver stepping out. Half-conscious, Elliot was only dimly aware of his door opening and hands pulling him onto the ground. He groaned as he hit the pavement, and the man smiled as he pulled a hypodermic needle from the pocket of his poncho.

Squatting, he jammed it into Elliot's neck. The man watched as Elliot jumped, and then sank into unconsciousness. Whistling, he turned him over and jerked his hands behind his back, binding them with a bungee cord. He picked up his burden in a fireman's carry and opened the trunk.

He slammed Elliot into it and shut the lid. Then he back to the damaged Explorer and placed some items in the front seat before getting into his own car. He whistled as he turned on the tape player, and strains of Bach filled the car as he got back on the highway and headed south.

Ahh! I know, I know….you all want to kill me for writing yet ANOTHER cliffhanger chapter! Whoa….flaming sticks DOWN, please! I am writing the next chapter as we speak, so don't give up on me yet! I will post it ASAP!