Saturday started the same as always, though if Nikki had been in a cynical mood, she might have said it started like any other day in Larkhall, considering the days all seemed to bleed into each other. She woke up, washed up, went for tea and spent a good part of the day chatting with whomever stopped at her table. Benson was right, though Wade would never admit it - everyone knew Nikki, and Nikki knew everyone. More importantly, Nikki had the respect of everyone. Whether it was due to her criminal reputation as a cop killer, or her personal reputation of sticking up for the underdog, she had it here in Larkhall in spades.

She had just spent an hour of quiet contemplation in the potting shed when she returned to the wing, only to see a small crowd gathered at the bottom of the stairs that joined the three floors.

"What's going on here, then?" Nikki asked Yvonne, who was leaning back against the railing. No sooner had the words come out of her mouth when she saw Olivia lightly jogging down the last flight of stairs. "Hey," she said brightly.

Olivia smiled back. "Hey," she greeted, only to turn around when her feet hit the floor and climb the stairs again.

Nikki's brow furrowed in confusion, though she took notice of the curve of Benson's ass as she made her way to the top.

Yvonne didn't miss the look. Lightly tapping the back of her fingers under Nikki's chin, she smirked, "Close your mouth, love, you're catching flies."

"Very funny." Wade looked around at the small group who craned their necks up the open stairwell. "Where's the fire?"

"Evidently, she's exercising," Atkins responded. "Had to hand Bodybag a dictionary when she came round and asked the same question."

The pounding of Benson's feet on the metal came closer, and the brunette made the turn to descend the final set of stairs. Now able to take a slightly longer look, Wade skimmed Benson from head to toe. Her hair was damp and slightly askew, probably from the woman wiping the sweat from her brow. Thankfully for those in attendance who were interested, there were other places Benson couldn't wipe the sweat away, most notably for the audience, in the dip between her breasts and at the small of her back, both spots a darker grey than her cotton shirt and suitably clingy. Her feet hit the floor and she turned again, back up the stairs.

"How long has this been going on?" Nikki asked.

Yvonne shrugged. "Ask her personal trainer here. Denny!" The young woman turned her head. "How long has Liv been entertaining you lot?"

Denny grinned and didn't bother denying the implication. "I don't know about time, but she's gone up and down forty-nine times now."

"The only thing I'd be wanting to go up and down forty-nine times is on some young stud with a nice tackle," Yvonne stated.

Several of the women laughed, including Nikki. "You don't know what you're missing, Yvonne."

"I do. I'm missing a young stud with a nice tackle, is what I'm missing!"

"Fifty!" Denny and Shaz announced as Olivia touched the floor.

She rested her hands on her hips and bent at the waist as she tried to bring her breathing back to normal. Heads in unison tilted to the side to get a better view, but either she was unaware of the attention or chose to ignore it. She took in huge lungfuls of air, and, when she felt her heart slow down to a more comfortable rate, she stood up straight.

"Here ya go, Liv," Denny said as she handed Olivia a plastic bottle of water. "It's not real bottled water, 'cause they don't bother with that stuff here, but it's something."

"Thanks, Denny," Benson breathed as she took the offering. With one hand still on her hip, she tilted her head back and let the cool liquid soothe her parched throat. Small rivulets spilled out of her mouth and down her chin, making little trails down her neck and pooling in the hollow of her throat.

"That sound you heard was a hundred lezzies getting off," Yvonne whispered conspiratorially towards Nikki, who had been transfixed with the rest of them. At that statement, Nikki's head snapped around and she looked at Atkins in disbelief. "What? That woman right there has just been given the starring role in a year's worth of fantasies." Seeing her friend's mouth agape, Yvonne winked. "Don't worry, love, you'll always be my number one girl."

Nikki couldn't help but laugh. "You're a peach, Yvonne. A real peach."

"Anyway, don't worry," Atkins went on. "Everyone knows she's your number one girl." When Nikki didn't reply, the older woman turned and looked at her. "You telling me you and her… nothing? Cellmates for almost a week and… nothing?" Wade was silent, looking very much like a child being chastised. "What? She have someone on the outside?"

"I haven't asked," Nikki admitted.

"You what? I pictured you two shagging like rabbits by now."

Nikki raised an eyebrow in amusement. "You pictured me and Olivia naked, Yvonne?"

The mob widow scrunched her face as if she had just eaten something bad. "Sod off, will you?" She nodded her head in Benson's direction, who was talking to Dominic. "And for God's sake, do something. One of us should be getting our rocks off."

"I was wondering if I could go have a shower, Mr. McAllister?" Benson asked the young guard.

"Well, I…," he stuttered, "it's not really allowed. Wash up's in the morning." He looked at her, knowing it wouldn't be the end of the world if he bent the rules. Anyway, it was obvious she needed a shower. Her cough brought his eyes up from her breasts. The heat rushed so quickly to his face that he dreaded knowing how red he must be. "Go on, then. Make it quick."

"You're the best, Dom," she whispered, and jogged in the direction of her cell as 40 pairs of eyes followed.

"Well," Yvonne said to Nikki, "what are you waiting for? Get going."

Despite a rather aggressive shove by Yvonne, Nikki couldn't bring herself to follow Benson into the showers. It seemed so predatory. Besides, she didn't know if the American was even interested. Or even gay. As she tipped her chair back against the stone wall of the cell, her eyes glazing over a book she wasn't reading, she made a mental edit regarding the last point. God knew she was banged up in Larkhall long enough, but she was still confident in her instincts. An image of Helen came to mind unbidden, and Nikki brushed it aside.

The sight of a wet Olivia Benson in the doorway helped.

"Hey."

"Hiya."

Nikki's eyes snapped down to her book and she feigned a disinterest in the woman who had just entered the cell. It wasn't as if she'd never seen Olivia step out of the showers, wet and smelling of something soft and understated. Hell, it wasn't as if she'd never seen the woman naked, albeit never as long as her memory banks would have liked. But those moments were never prefaced by the long view of Benson jogging up the stairs, the fleece of her pants, the cotton of her tee clinging possessively to the curves of her body because of sweat and movement. Yvonne had joked about Olivia becoming the subject for a hundred fantasies, but she wasn't far off the mark. It didn't take much imagination to see the small droplets of sweat trickling down her temples to that hard jaw line in a context more carnal than stair-climbing. On that last descent, when she had opened her mouth to draw in huge gasps of air, her tongue making a brief appearance to moisten her lips, it wasn't hard to place that image in a very different scenario.

She was allowed to think these thoughts in unquestioning silence, because Benson had turned, her back to Nikki, and shrugged the thin white robe off her shoulders, where it pooled to the floor.

'You are an adolescent boy out of control,' Nikki reprimanded herself. It didn't stop her from looking, though. While she liked to think she valued intelligence and integrity and honesty above all else, even Nikki Wade had to admit it helped when it came wrapped in a gorgeous package. And she had rarely seen one so beautifully sculpted as Olivia Benson. If she was allowed to touch, Nikki wondered whether Olivia would be cool on her fingertips like marble, or if she would be warm and yielding.

Lost in her visions, she hadn't noticed Olivia was almost dressed. 'Shame,' Nikki thought. Some bodies weren't meant to be covered. She almost said the words aloud before she caught herself. "Somebody left their mark on your shoulder."

Benson turned. "What's that?"

"Your shoulder. You have a nasty scar on the back of your right shoulder."

"Oh, yeah," Olivia replied, trailing her fingers through her damp hair. "Patient of mine and a letter opener. Not a happy couple." She figured that was a better story than telling Nikki a perp had come up behind her in a darkened apartment building and stabbed her with a switchblade.

Nikki dropped her chair back into its original position with a thud. "Jesus!"

Olivia shrugged. "Hazard of the job, I guess," she remarked truthfully and slid into the wooden chair opposite Nikki. Resting her forearms on the table, she leaned forward and commented, "You're very observant."

"Yeah, well, hazard of being banged up in a prison with criminals, I suppose."

"I suppose," the cop agreed with a smile. She heard Nikki's knee hit the underside of the table with a nervous bounce. "What's up?"

Nikki shook her head. "Nothing."

Raising a doubting eyebrow, Benson said, "Come on. The first session's on me."

This offer drew a small grin from Wade. Biting the inside of her bottom lip, the con frowned and remarked, "You'd think I'd never kissed anyone before."

Eyes narrowing, Olivia asked, "Who did you kiss?"

"I haven't kissed her yet."

It only took a fraction of a second for the meaning to sink in. "Oh, I see."

If Olivia had leaned back, Nikki wouldn't have pressed the matter any further. She could take a hint better than most and she would have understood and moved on. But Benson didn't lean back. She remained, arms on the table, body still leaning forward.

It's not that alarm bells weren't blaring at 200 decibels in Benson's head; it was just that she wasn't listening. She waited for the movement she knew was coming from Nikki, and when it happened, she did nothing to stop it.

Resting on her forearms, Nikki rose up slightly and leaned across the short space between her and Olivia's mouth. She paused briefly, offering an unspoken, final chance for Benson to change her mind. The American closed her eyes, giving a silent consent that almost made Nikki moan out loud.

The kiss was simple and chaste, as their lips grazed across each others; a scouting mission for nerve endings to send messages back to the brain. As well as other parts of the body. A second pass was bolder as Nikki captured Olivia's top lip between her teeth. The cop sighed with pleasure, allowing Nikki to slide her tongue past the parted teeth and meet its counterpart. Strong hands gripped Nikki's arms as warmth and flesh and desire came together. The table between them prevented anything other than this - the exchange of electricity between their tongues and through the touch of fingertips on forearms. It wasn't enough and yet, being forced to focus solely on those two connections, it seemed like too much.

With palms against the table top, Nikki pushed herself up, wanting to get closer, to be closer. There was no grace to their kiss now, as teeth collided with teeth, lips pressed almost painfully against each other as they tried desperately to reduce the space between them. It was only when she felt Olivia's hand reach up to grab a handful of hair that Nikki did moan.

It was this sound that did what all the internal alarms could not do. Startled out of the moment, Olivia pulled back, breathless and bruised. Nikki leaned forward, but Benson shook her head.

'What the hell am I thinking?' she berated herself. 'I'm a cop. Undercover. In a fucking prison.' It could be a death sentence to forget it, or to let her mask slip for a second. And yet, looking into the honest eyes of Nikki Wade, she wondered how long she could keep up the charade.

"What is it?" Nikki asked gently.

Not long.

"There's something I have to tell you," she began, then faltered.

"Let me guess. You're not interested." Even at that moment, Olivia couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the comment. "So it's not that." Nikki's brow creased and she became more serious. "You've got someone on the outside."

'This is your out, Benson,' she told herself. And yet she couldn't bring herself to confirm Nikki's guess.

She didn't have to - Nikki took her silence as confirmation. Sitting back into her seat, she said, "Shit. I should have known." She tempered her disappointment with a small smile. "I mean, look at you, you're gorgeous."

"I'm sorry," was all the cop could say. She was sorry. Sorry she couldn't tell the truth. Sorry she had to lie to this woman.

Though she meant the apology to cover a multitude of regrets and dishonesty, Nikki accepted it for something not nearly as complex. "Don't apologize," she forgave, "I made the assumption. Anyway, it was a nice little slice of heaven while it lasted, eh? I don't regret it. Do you?"

She had a lot to regret, but kissing Nikki Wade wasn't one of them. "No," she answered truthfully.

Her smile was larger now. "Small victories, Liv."

Benson nodded, though she didn't feel victorious at all.

"So," Yvonne said immediately. The woman had quickly sat down across from Nikki and gauged how long it would take Olivia to get through the breakfast cue.

"So what?" Nikki feigned ignorance.

Yvonne snorted. "Give it up, will you? I mean, so, you and Liv?"

Barbara's head jerked up from her book. Looking between the two women, she asked, "I'm sorry? What's this?"

Nikki rolled her eyes and explained, "Yvonne has developed a rather uncomfortable interest in my sex life, Babs."

Yvonne would not be deterred. "And you're avoiding the question, love."

"Fine," the brunette sighed, "so, nothing. She's got someone on the outside."

"Oh, Nikki, that's too bad," Barbara sympathized.

"Male?" Yvonne asked.

"No," Nikki grinned, "I don't think so."

"How did you find out?"

Nikki lifted her cup to her lips and smirked, "Well I kissed her, didn't I?"

Olivia arrived at the table just in time to help Barbara slap a choking Yvonne on the back.

"You all right there, Yvonne?" Benson asked.

"Marvelous, thanks." She shot an evil glare at Nikki. "Bloody marvelous."

Olivia looked at Yvonne, then to Nikki, then to an amused Barbara, and back to Nikki. "Why do I get the feeling I walked in at the tail end of something I would have been interested in hearing?"

Nikki tilted her head at Yvonne and said, "I bet you didn't know Yvonne here is a cupid in her spare time."

"Oi!" Yvonne glowered. "Problem is, I've got too much of it to spare."

Benson's eyebrows raised in realization. "Ah, I see. Me and Nikki? Well, I'm flattered. You've got great taste, Yvonne, I'll give you that."

Nikki laughed at the red flush that spread across the mob wife's face. "Our kids would be gorgeous!"

"And tall," Barbara offered, contributing to the jest.

"All right, all right, you've all had your fun," Yvonne said. "Nikki told me you have someone on the outside. I know when the cause is lost. I'm glad Nikki got a kiss out of the deal, anyway. Someone should be getting something in here."

Benson slowly turned her head to look at a sheepish Nikki. "You kissed and told?"

"Come on!" Nikki defended. "You can't honestly expect me to kiss you and not want to brag about it, can you?"

"Is flattery your way of getting out of shit?"

"Yes."

The four women laughed.

"So you two are all right, then?" Yvonne asked. "I mean, no hard feelings or any of that?"

The two cellmates looked at each other and Nikki spoke for them both. "No. No awkwardness. Life's too short. Besides," she added slyly, "not everyone has the pleasure of being kissed by Nikki Wade."

"Not from your lack of trying," Yvonne said.

"Hey!" Nikki objected, and the four women laughed again.

After breakfast, the two cellmates cleaned up and made plans for the day.

"I thought I'd work on that tunnel I've got going underneath the potting shed. What do you think?" Nikki asked, all innocence and curiosity.

"Oh, I'd help you with that," Olivia played along, "but this is the only spoon I've got."

With an exaggerated sigh, Nikki stood up and shrugged. "Fine. Just don't think you're tagging along when I bust out of this place."

She hadn't been gone five minutes when Benson received a surprise visit. "Christ, I thought Saint Nik would never leave," Shell groused as she entered the cell.

Olivia looked up sharply from her paper. "Watch it."

"Oh, excuse me," Dockley said without a glimmer of sincerity. "I didn't realize you two were kissin' carpets. You'd best be careful there. She finds out you're pushing drugs and you'll fall out of favour faster than…" she paused to find a suitable metaphor.

"For God's sake," Benson muttered, "the entire wing will know if you don't spit it out. What are you doing here?"

"Eh? Oh, I'm to tell you, before any more deals go on, Mr. Weston would like to speak to you, one on one like."

Though she knew the answer, she asked, "Who's Mr. Weston?"

Shell looked insulted. "Only the bloke whose gonna get your kit into the States if you play your cards right. He's the top dog, in't he?"

"Why does he want to talk to me?"

"Do I look like bleedin' Russell Grant? I'm to give you his number and you're supposed to ring him. That's all I know. Though if you ask me," Olivia didn't point out that in fact, she had, "I think he's a might suspicious about why you've jumped from an ounce to a kilo in a week. I tried to tell Bill - he's my bloke on the outside, if you get my meaning - about your idea for America, see, but Mr. Weston wants to speak to you personal like."

Benson's mind whizzed at the possible reasons behind a phone call, not to mention the pitfalls. First things first, she had to get Dockley out of the cell before anyone saw her, or worse, before Nikki came back. "Where's the number?"

Shell reached into her bra and tossed a scrap of paper on the table.

When Olivia noticed the con hadn't moved, she tilted her head. "What?"

"Am I still gonna get some stuff?"

Benson pinched the bridge of her nose. Fucking addicts. "I'll do what I can, that's all."

Dockley stood for several more seconds until she realized she had been dismissed. Unimpressed with Benson's offer, but unable to come up with a suitable protest, she left. Lucky for Benson, Nikki hadn't found a reason to double back. However, Dockley's exit wasn't missed by the watchful eye of Jim Fenner.

She hesitated before picking up the receiver. Should she phone DCI Williams and let him know what was going on? Would it do any good? What could he tell her that she didn't already know as a cop? Let Weston think he's got the upper hand, but don't make it too easy or it'll raise suspicions. Play hard ball, but don't scare him away. Still, she wished Stabler was around so they could toss ideas around and have a couple of dry runs before making the call. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes briefly, and dialed the number.

"Yeah."

'It's now or never,' she thought. "Yeah, I'm looking for Mr. Weston."

"Who's doin' the lookin'?"

"Benson. Olivia Benson. A friend from New York."

"Hold on." Voices were muffled as the receiver was pressed against a shoulder or chest. "Yeah, sorry, love," the male voice returned, "but Mr. Weston's busy at the moment. You got a number, he'll ring you back, yeah?"

"No," Benson replied calmly, "unless he knows how to get a call through to my cell in Larkhall."

"Right. Hold on." A few more seconds of muffled sounds passed until he came back again. "I'll put you through."

"Olivia Benson," a different voice stated.

"I take it you're Mr. Weston," she said. "Because if you're not and I'm wasting this phone card for nothing, it's gonna piss me off."

The voice chuckled. "I'll be sure to throw a few into our next deal, free of charge. I won't waste your time, love, because you don't have much of it, and mine is money. I've been told you're looking for another shipment."

She knew he'd never say the word 'heroin' or anything else that might incriminate him should the phones be tapped. "We enjoyed your last sample so much, we'd like to increase it."

"So I've heard. And while I'm flattered that you were so pleased, I'm sure you'll understand why I'm a bit hesitant to agree to so much more so soon. I usually like to let a friendship cultivate and grow over the years, give ourselves some time to get to know one another before I feel comfortable in dealing in that sort of amount."

"I understand." Benson decided to try a harder edge. "And if you feel you can't commit to that kind of arrangement, I could always shop around."

The man laughed. "You must be new to these parts, because I'm the only shop in town."

She would have none of his bolster. "I'll be sure to mention that to the Booker brothers in Camden. I bet the Footie Boys of Ealing would be interested in hearing that bit of news as well." There was a lengthy pause on the other end and Olivia could almost here the gears turning in Weston's head. "I hear you've been trying to get into New York for a while now, but you're having a bit of trouble with the triads. I think I can help you, but that's your decision." The silence stretched on and she played her last card. "I understand your hesitancy, Mr. Weston. I'm sorry we couldn't do business. It's been a pleasure talking to you." Had the bluff not worked, it would have been the end of the road. She was as close as they had come to getting this bastard, and months of man power would have gone down the drain.

Fortunately, she heard him say, "Wait."

"Yes?"

"You're an impatient woman, Miss Benson."

"Well, as you alluded to earlier, time is money. I've got distributors and clients lined up. I just need the supply. It seems like a fairly simple business venture. And a very lucrative one for all of us."

"I agree." There was another stretch of silence, though much shorter this time. "What did you have in mind?"

Benson willed her heart to slow down. "First, we start with the new amount. You get that to my partner in New York without a hitch, and we'll go from there."

"How do I get paid?"

"Same as the first time. Except we pay you half here, and your deliverer gets the second half when he gets to New York."

"Full payment up front."

"Not a chance."

"You don't trust me, love?" he chuckled. "Now you know how I feel. Full payment this time. Half and half on any future dealings. Consider it a payment towards an accelerated friendship fund."

There was no way she could turn him down, not when she was so close. Still, she paused long enough to make him think she was genuinely considering it. At last, she said, "Fine. I'll pass it along to my partner and he'll manage the rest. He'll get back to you within a day to make the arrangements."

"Very good."

"Just out of curiosity, Mr. Weston, how do you plan on shipping to the U.S.?"

He chuckled again, but this time it sent shivers down her spine. "Let's just say it's child's play."

Once he was certain no one was watching, Fenner entered the cell and got straight to the point.

"What are you playing at, Dockley?"

The blonde looked away from the mirror and touched her hair. "What do you mean, Mr. Fenner?"

"Don't bother, Shell, I'm not interested in you right now. I am interested in what you've got going on with the new one sharing the cell with Wade."

"What? The American?" Dockley asked, as if she didn't know.

The crooked guard stepped menacingly closer. "Don't try and be clever, love, it doesn't suit you. I saw you coming out of her cell."

"Oh, that? That, that was nothing, sir. Just having a little fun with the new girl, right? Winding her up about sharing a cell with a lezzie, though if you ask me, sir, like is like there, if you get my meaning."

"You came all the way down from 3 a week after the new girl's been here, just to take the piss?"

"Well, there's not much else to do round here, is there?"

Fenner's eyes narrowed. "I know she's in for drug possession, which would be right down your alley, wouldn't it?" When the blonde didn't respond, he continued, "You wouldn't be doing anything behind my back, would you?"

Shell's fear was masked by her manufactured sputter of disbelief. "Me, behind your back, Mr. Fenner?" She trailed her finger from his chest down to his belt buckle. "You know I'd rather be doing something with you face-to-face."

He brushed her hand away, but softened his tone to a leer. "You're a tart, Shell Dockley, you know that?"

She smiled. "Just the way you like me, innit?"

He smile held nothing but self-serving pleasure. "Wear that pretty lace thing you've got at lock-up and maybe I'll come round later."

"Look forward to it, sir."

He got to the door and turned. "But remember, you try to mess about behind my back and the Block will look like paradise, got it?"

The smile remained plastered to her face. "Got it." It was only when the door closed behind him did she allow the smile to drop and the fear to spread over her expression. "Shit!"

"Stabler."

"You know," Benson began, "you should mix that up a bit. 'Detective Stabler, SVU,' or 'Elliot Stabler, how can I help you?' That sort of thing."

His chuckle rolled down the line. "Hang up and call me again."

"Right!" she replied with a laugh of her own. "I'll be cutting the time on this card close enough as it is."

Knowing she had information on the case, he turned serious immediately. "Okay, I'm listening."

"Had a chat with Mr. Gregory Weston today." She heard the audible breath of surprise from Elliot. "Yeah, I know, surprised the hell out of me, too. Seemed he was a bit suspicious about the increase we wanted. Can't blame him."

"What'd you say?"

"The usual. Short of saying the actual words, I let him know I'd try somewhere else. Not surprisingly, that got his attention and we compromised. He'll ship to New York, but we've got to pay him the full amount, up front."

She could almost see him nod. "Makes sense. He figures if something goes wrong, he's still got the money."

"Yeah," she agreed. "It's a first time only deal, he said. To make up for the trust factor."

Stabler laughed humourlessly. "Money can buy you everything. So what's next?"

"Get Williams to set it up, like before. They'll exchange the money, then make the New York arrangements."

"Did he say how he's gonna ship?"

Benson shook her head. "No, but there's no doubt in my mind he's using kids. Bastard told me it was 'child's play'."

"Christ."

There was a brief moment of silence until Olivia asked, "Can I say something, between you and me?"

"You know you can."

"We're close to getting this guy, El, but not close enough. He's not going to come out and tell us when the drugs are leaving London or even when they're showing up in New York. He's only going to tell us where and when to meet his supplier. We've never found one of these kids alive. I'm not sure how comfortable I am, knowing I could be sending someone to their death, let alone a kid."

He knew her concern, because he felt the same way. "The difference is we've got a jump on him this time. We've always been a step behind because we've never been on the inside like this. Once we get this deal set up, Williams will have people around the clock watching this guy and his associates. They'll be watching the airports. We'll be doing the same here. We've got a better chance than we've ever had of nailing him."

"We need to I.D. the supplier before he gets to New York. We need the kid alive. And we need something from one of them to lead back to Weston."

There was a lot of room for things to go wrong and Stabler knew it. "You know we're gonna do everything we can. That's all we've got."

"I guess I want guarantees that aren't there," she sighed. Covering her eyes with her hand, she whispered, "I'm tired of finding dead kids, El."

"I know, Liv. I feel it, too."

"I know."

The phone beeped and a very helpful automated British voice informed Benson that she had one minute remaining on her card.

"Looks like I need to win some more pool games," she said, attempting to bring some light back into the conversation.

"What's that?" Elliot asked.

"I'll explain when I see you," she replied. "Call Williams. Tell him what's up."

"Call me tomorrow, if you can. I'll let you know what's goin' on."

"Okay."

"You're doin' great, Liv."

A hint of warmth came back to her smile. "Thanks, El." Hanging up the receiver, she pulled out the phone card and tossed it into a nearby garbage bin.