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.

He came down the stairs as Fin was on his way up.

"Oh, cool," Fin said. "Cap was just sending me to come get you."

Elliot smiled wryly as Fin changed directions, and followed him down.

Cragen looked up when Elliot joined the rest of them, but didn't comment. A suitcase was placed on he and Olivia's desk, and his eyes widened when he saw the large quantity of white powder inside.

His eyes shot to Cragen's. "Is this-?"

"It's real," Marino cut in shortly. "You're going to use this to entice your two new friends."

Don noticed the way Elliot was deliberately ignoring the other detective. "It's quarter to five," he said, checking his watch.

He turned toward his four and addressed them. "I want you guys to all go home and grab a change of clothes. I don't know what direction this is going to go, but plan on crashing here tonight. Got it?"

They nodded. Don turned to Marino. "Alright," he said. "Everyone meet back here in an hour."

Elliot wiped at an imaginary spot on the bar top and fought back a groan. He had opened the bar for business at 8 pm that night. The other two weren't going to make an appearance until at least midnight, so they were busy scouring the area in search of drug dealers. At 10:15, "Jack" had yet to receive a single customer, and he was out of his mind with boredom.

"This sucks," he whined into his mike.

Olivia laughed. She and the captain were busy watching Munch and Fin through the cameras.

"Can't I go with Munch and Fin?" he pleaded. "Please?"

Cragen sighed. "Elliot," he said, annoyed. He had asked that question at least 10 times in the past two hours. "Shut up. Go clean something, the place is a dump."

Elliot looked at the wall beside him. It was stained with something he'd rather not try to identify. Wrinkling his nose, he replied, "I'll pass, thanks anyway." He went back to wiping the bar top.

"Show time."

Olivia whipped her head around to stare at the TV screen when she heard her partner's unexpected words an hour later. The others leaned in and watched as the two men from the previous day walked in.

"Yo, Tanner," the black man said.

"Hey, guys," Elliot said, throwing the rag down.

They sauntered in, looking around. The white one whistled. "Man, you better clean this place up before tonight."

"What's tonight?" he asked.

"We spread the word that you were opening," the black man said. "Expect a crowd."

They grinned at each other. Elliot decided he didn't like the way they were smiling.

"So…you said you could hook us up," he continued, getting straight to the point. "What's your price?"

"You come work for me, you can have unlimited access to my supply," he replied.

"No shit?" the black man said. He stared at Elliot hard, and Elliot stared back.

"I'm serious," he said. "But only if you agree to be full-time security…and you help me find other buyers." He could see that he had their interest.

While they were talking, the team in the van had received photos of some of the men who had had been seen in the bar on a regular basis.

"Joshua Hector and Simon Ganz," Cragen read.

Olivia pointed to the screen. "These are our guys," she said into the mike.

"Why are you so willing to get rid of it?" the black man asked suspiciously.

Elliot shrugged nonchalantly. "I have high quality stuff….but I also have a lot of it," he said. "I don't want anyone to get suspicious."

"What you got?" the black man said.

Elliot whipped out the suitcase that Narcotics had provided him with and opened it, watching the two men's eyes light up.

"Holy shit….," the white one whispered. He exchanged an excited look with his companion. "

We have a deal, gentleman?" Elliot asked.

The black man grinned. "It gets busy around midnight."

They weren't kidding. At ten to 12, the place had filled up so much that there was barely any standing room left. The speakers were blasting rock music, and Elliot had already emptied out the liquor supply twice.

The teams had become on high alert as the people began arriving. Five Narcotics officers were inside the bar along with Elliot and Fin. People were lined up halfway around the block to get into The Matador, and were becoming rowdy. Munch was in the line as well, keeping an eye on things there.

"What's it looking like out there, John?" Cragen said. He located Munch on the monitor and watched him turn his head, pretending to scan the crowd as he spoke.

"Rough bunch out here, Cap," he said. He watched two men as they started shoving each other as they neared the entrance and grimaced. "Are we sure we want to add alcohol to this mix? These guys already look half-baked to me."

Cragen rolled his eyes. "Keep an eye out," he said. "Particularly near the end of the line…it's easier for someone to sneak off toward the back."

"Got it," he replied.

Flipping a switch, Cragen switched frequencies. "Fin?" he said. "How you doing?"

"Great," came the sarcastic reply. Fin was squished up against the wall next to the bar by the throng of people inside. The man next to him had been downing shots of tequila for two straight hours and looked like he was going to collapse any second.

A sudden yell was heard a split second before a man came crashing through the crowd. Fin didn't have time to brace himself as the drunken man smashed into him. He bounced back like he had hit a spring, whereas Fin barely moved. The man's glass of beer went all over him.

A group of men standing nearby started laughing and cheering like maniacs, obviously as trashed as he was.

"Watch it, you jerk!" Fin snapped, as the man started laughing like a loon. The man just held up his glass shakily and staggered away.

"What the hell was that?" the captain asked.

Fin rolled his eyes. "Some of these guys act like they haven't had a drink since high school."

Olivia's voice came through suddenly. "How's Elliot doing?" Her concern was easy to pinpoint.

Fin looked over to the bar. Elliot was rapidly trying to get drinks to the massive amount of people lined up against the counter. Each time he poured one, two more orders were shouted at him from somewhere in the crowd.

"Just a minute!" he yelled in frustration, at one overly impatient man. He slid a shot glass over to a woman and slid her five-dollar bill over the counter in the same swift movement.

"He's got his hands full," Fin replied. "These people are ruthless."

"Have you seen any activity yet?" This was from Marino.

"Not yet," he said. "A couple of guys went upstairs a minute ago, but Payne was up there and said they were just going to the bathroom."

Marino sighed in audible frustration. Cragen glanced at him as he keyed in again. "Alright, well…just stay on alert," he said.

"Always," he replied.

"What's wrong, Mark?" Don asked, turning over towards him.

Marino shook his head. "This is turning into a frat party," he said, angrily. "It's freaking 12:30, and all we've gotten from anybody is reports of rowdy drinkers and an occasional fist fight."

"You've got to be patient," Cragen said. "It might take more than one night …maybe the dealers are wary of the place since it has a new owner now."

Marino scoffed. "Maybe the new owner just isn't measuring up to their standards," he muttered. He said it low enough so that they wouldn't hear, but Olivia caught it anyway.

"Hey, what's your problem?" she burst out suddenly, turning to face the Narcotics detective.

"Problem?" he parroted, looking at her with narrowed eyes.

"What's your beef with Elliot anyway, huh?" she continued, angrily. "You've done nothing but talk shit about him since this morning."

"He's a cocky son-of-a-bitch, that's my problem," he answered. "He thinks because you made him lead on this that he knows more than we do. Hell, it's his fault we're even here in the first place."

"You guys-" Cragen began, trying to stop a fight.

"Why's that?" Olivia countered edgily, ignoring him.

"If he had done his job right, we would have caught these guys fourteen years ago," he said. "His screw-up cost us our collar."

"His screw-up?" she repeated incredulously. "He didn't plan on getting shot, Marino." She fixed him with a sharp glare. "I think you just want to lay the blame on him because he moved up the ranks and you didn't."

Mark directed his attention to Cragen while giving her a stony look. "You'd better reign in your detective, Captain," he said icily. "Don't forget that I'm in charge of this operation."

"Screw you!" she said. "I don't care who you are…nobody talks shit about my partner."

"Olivia," Cragen said sharply. He gave her a look. "Go get some fresh air. Now."

She swallowed hard in anger and launched herself from the chair, opening the van door and jumping out. Her feet hit the gravel and she slammed the door shut.

A tense silence followed as the rest of the team directed their attention back to the monitors and tried to pretend that they hadn't been listening. Cragen had his lips pursed together tightly, and after a minute, he turned toward Marino.

"This might be your collar, Mark," he said, his voice low and threatening. "But it's my detectives in there. They are the best team I've got, and I won't tolerate anyone disrespecting that."

Don looked intensely at the man as he continued. "I don't care what this is about…I'm on their side, and I'm not afraid to get involved. You do well to remember that."

Marino said nothing as he turned around and faced the monitor on the opposite end. Cragen turned around as well, and the silence resumed as everyone continued their watch.

"Hey…hey!"

Fin had been sweeping the crowded area around him for what seemed like the hundredth time when he suddenly heard Elliot yell. He whipped his head around quickly.

A group of men had become impatient while waiting for Elliot to get to them, and had launched themselves over behind the bar. Two of them began grabbing whatever liquor bottles were within reach.

Elliot dropped the glass he had been getting ready to hand to a man and rushed over to them. He grabbed one of them and twisted his wrist, making him howl.

"This is not a yard sale, asshole!" he growled. He snatched the bottle of Jose Cuervo from his hand. "Wait your god damned turn!"

One of the guy's buddies came up behind Elliot and shoved him roughly against the wall, bringing his fist up to deliver a blow to his face.

Before he had a chance to swing, the man suddenly flew backwards. Elliot looked behind him in surprise to see Fin flip one of the other guys over.

"Alright, break it up!" came a shout. Simon Ganz jumped up behind the bar. Elliot subdued one of the men with an arm lock and forced him still.

"I said back the fuck off!" Ganz yelled, grabbing one of them when he attempted to punch him.

Joshua Hector appeared as well. "What's going on here?" he asked.

Fin sneered at him. "Where the hell were you guys?" he said. "I thought bouncers were here to stop shit like this."

"Who are you?" Hector asked angrily.

"Who the hell cares?" Elliot burst out, before Fin could speak. "He stopped these guys from stealing all of my booze." He reached his hand out and Fin slapped it. "Thanks, man."

"No problem," he said, winking.

"Alright," Ganz said. "You guys are out of here." He and Hector began hauling the men out the back of the bar, and Fin went to help.

"Hey, come on, man!" The shouts of the thirsty patrons started up immediately once the excitement had died down. Elliot blew through his cheeks.

The night continued busily. The teams kept watching, but were starting to get droopy. It was almost 4 am, and there had been no signs of anyone using the back entrance.

"Look alive, everyone!" The sudden, urgent voice from Munch alerted them. "Just had a guy leave the line and head toward the back."

The team straightened and began looking eagerly at the monitors. "Fin, be on alert," Cragen said. "There's a possible break."

Olivia watched as a man slunk toward the back and looked around for a minute before rapping on the door of the fire escape.

"Be on your toes." The sound of Fin's voice in his ear made Elliot glance up from his frantic pouring. The black man nodded to him, and he discreetly nodded back.

The door opened and another man came out. The two exchanged words, and then one began opening his jacket.

"We got a visual," Marino said into the mike. "Everyone get ready."

Olivia eagerly leaned forward, ready to see some action finally.

A loud shrieking noise suddenly erupted around the crowded room. Elliot froze halfway through pouring a shot and looked to Fin anxiously. He just shrugged.

Fin felt himself being pushed and shoved from all directions. Quickly, he leaped behind the bar to avoid being trampled.

The team was appalled when people began suddenly streaming out of the bar into the street.

"What the hell-?" Marino sputtered. He wrenched the mike from Cragen's hand. "What's going on? Somebody talk to me, dammit!"

Elliot's voice came through, and he sounded disgusted. "Somebody pulled the fire alarm."

Olivia was stunned. "What?"

Marino scoffed in disgust. "Come on out, everyone," he said tiredly. "We're done for tonight."

The SVU team shuffled wearily back into the precinct at 5 am. Cragen told everyone to go upstairs. "That's an order," he said, and then disappeared into his own office where the cot was that none of them were supposed to know about.

The four of them went upstairs. Munch and Fin collapsed on beds immediately. Olivia brushed her teeth and got a blanket, setting it on a bottom bunk. Elliot was sitting on the end of the bed next to it, staring out the window.

"What're you doing?" she asked, lying flat.

He turned to look at her. His blue eyes sparkled in the darkness. He shrugged, speaking in a soft voice so as not to disturb the others. "I don't know….I guess I'm still keyed up from today," he said. "Can't sleep."

"Well, you should try," she advised, propping herself up on one elbow. "Tomorrow's a busy day, especially for you." She smiled and wiggled her eyebrows at him, then flopped over. "Goodnight."

"Night," he answered softly. He waited a minute. Then, after glancing around to make sure everyone else was asleep, he picked up his shoes and tiptoed out the door.

Cragen was a light sleeper by nature, especially when he wasn't in his own bed, so he was instantly alert when he heard the quiet squeak of a door above him. From his position, he could see out the side window of his office. He watched a figure creep down the stairs, and recognized it immediately despite the darkness.

Cragen looked at his watch. It was 5:30 am. He sat up in concern. He kept watching as Elliot went to his locker and removed his jacket. Then he crept out the doors. Cragen furrowed his eyebrows. What was he doing?

He debated with himself about going to see if he was alright. Finally, he decided against it, choosing instead to confront him when he returned.

Once clear of the precinct, Elliot broke into a dead sprint. The cold air sliced through his lungs as his feet pounded the pavement. The streets were all but deserted of pedestrians, making his pathway easy. He stealthily descended the small hill beside the Manhattan interstate, glanced around quickly to make sure no one was around, and pulled himself up the wall of the overpass. He felt like a teenager, sneaking around in the middle of the night to graffiti an overpass.

Dropping to the street, he continued at a jog the five miles through the neighborhoods until he reached Fairlawn Cemetery. He jumped up onto the rock that he had left in front of the iron gate and vaulted over. Taking another quick look around, he proceeded into the dark.