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.

Author's Note: EEK….so sorry about the wait for a new chapter. This last week of school has been hell and my computer has been acting a little strange for a few days...I had to give it a stern talking to, but I think we understand each other now-the next chapters should be up more quickly….please stay tuned!

"Hey, how you doing," Elliot greeted as he walked up to the hot dog vendor. "Let me have two with relish and onions…" He glanced up at the menu for a second. "And…one plain."

"Anything else I can get ya?" the man asked in a friendly voice as he began picking up the hot dogs with a tong.

Elliot turned slightly and looked at Olivia with a questioning expression. She shook her head. "Nope, that's good," he answered, pulling out his wallet.

The man handed over the plain hot dog and went to work on the other two. Elliot picked them up and handed them over to Olivia so he could reach into his wallet.

"That's $6.50," the man said.

Elliot handed the man a ten and waved his hand, smiling. "Keep it," he said. "You've got the best dogs on the block."

The man looked surprised. "Thank you," he said after a minute. He smiled widely. "You have a great day, sir." Elliot winked at the man and turned away.

"Hey," the man called after him, making him turn back questioningly. "You didn't get anything to drink."

He glanced at Olivia, who was sitting on a nearby park bench. "That's alright," he said.

"You take your pick," the man insisted, opening up the large cooler next to the stand. He smiled, gesturing. "Anything you want."

Elliot smiled and shrugged, walking back up to the stand again. He bent down, retrieving a Pepsi for Olivia and a Diet Dr. Pepper for himself. "Thank you," he said. He reached for his wallet again, but the man waved him off.

"On the house," he said, winking. He smiled again and walked over to the bench.

He handed Olivia her soda as he sat down. She set it beside her and held out four dollars. "Here," she said, handing him the money to cover her lunch.

He smiled. "Nah, don't worry about it," he said. "It's on me today."

An indignant look that he knew all too well crossed her face. "Elliot, take it," she demanded, handing it over. "I was kidding with you…you're not buying my lunch."

Again he pushed it away, this time more firmly. "Keep it," he said. He grinned, his eyes twinkling. "Remember you still owe me for dry cleaning." He took a huge bite of the hot dog.

She shook her head, but admitted defeat and picked up her own hot dog. "Only one?" she questioned as she took a bite.

She picked up a napkin from the stack resting between them and looked at him with raised eyebrows as she chewed. Elliot had one of the most ferocious appetites she had ever seen; she was amazed at how slim he was with all he could put away. He usually put back three hot dogs in a matter of minutes.

Her partner shrugged. "I'm not very hungry today," he said, popping open the Dr. Pepper.

Olivia looked at him suspiciously, but didn't comment. She had a feeling he would end up trying to con her out of one of her hot dogs in a minute.

"So, Liv," Elliot began, swallowing a swig of soda. "What are you doing tomorrow?"

She actually had given very little thought to the weekend; it took her a second to remember that it was Saturday already. She shrugged.

"Eh….I don't know, "she answered. "Why?"

He shrugged. "You want to come to church with me?"

Elliot was a devout Catholic and went to church every time he had a chance. But he never pushed his ideals on anyone, preferring instead to keep faith quietly. Although Olivia herself practiced no religion, she never scoffed him. She actually admired him for it. It was nice to see him still have peace about life among the horrors that they were forced to drudge through every day.

He invited her to come every time he had plans to and she always turned him down as politely as she could. She had gone to church with him and his family a few times in the past, and once right after the divorce, but she just didn't feel comfortable.

He never pushed her on it and was never offended when she declined, but made sure she knew she had an invitation every time he went. Olivia suspected that it might have more to do with the fact that both of them usually spent the weekends alone than the actual matter of faith.

He watched her hesitate, and figured she was trying to come up with the nicest way to turn him down. He smiled patiently and gulped the last of his hot dog, reaching for the soda.

Olivia cocked her head after a minute. "Okay," she said. She smiled as she watched Elliot choke on the soda.

He looked at her in surprise. "Really?"

She shrugged. "Sure, why not?" It wasn't like she had major plans anyway.

Elliot looked at her and grinned, but didn't make a big deal. "Cool," was all he said, taking another long swish. He crinkled the can in his hand when he finished.

Olivia looked at him in exasperation. She never did understand why men felt the need to finish their food in as little gulps as possible. Three gulps of hot dog, done. Four swigs of soda, done.

He grinned, seeming to read her mind, and began reaching over her. "You going to finish that?" he said, trying to swipe her second hot dog.

She elbowed him hard in the side. "Yes!" she said, holding her hot dog out of his reach. "Go get another one if you're still hungry; I'm not giving you mine."

He sat back and grinned begrudgingly. Olivia took a bite of the hot dog and chewed slowly, determined to ignore Elliot as he stared at her patiently.

After a minute, she rolled her eyes. Taking another bite, she shoved the rest of the hot dog at him and rolled her eyes again. He grinned devilishly and gulped it quickly.

"What did you get from Vice?" Cragen asked when he saw them walk back into the squad room.

Olivia held up the file. "They've got three cases dating back almost six years," she said. "All involving prostitutes and around the same area where Jessica Schillings was found." She smacked it down on her desk.

"Anything jump out at you?" he continued.

Elliot noticed that the captain was looking at him. "Not….that I could tell," he said slowly, looking to Olivia. She nodded her confirmation. "Anything looking similar is probably coincidental at best." He shrugged.

Cragen scowled. He hated dead ends as much as they did. "Alright, well…." He shrugged as well. "Look through it one more time and then leave it. We might have a new perspective come Monday."

Elliot looked up quickly. "Oh, yeah…." He stood up. "Captain, do you have a minute? There's something I have to talk to you about."

Cragen looked surprised. "Sure," he said after a minute. He looked at Elliot, puzzled. "Is this a private conversation?"

He shrugged. "Well…" He glanced at Olivia. She already knew about it, and Munch and Fin weren't there at the moment. "I guess not."

Don sensed the detective's uneasiness and smiled lightly. "Come in my office," he said, nodding toward it. He turned toward Olivia. "Olivia…Casey called Munch and Fin back to her office a little while ago. Go ahead and check over what they've got on Andrew Willis. We need to find out what's up with this guy, the sooner the better."

She nodded. The captain went to his office where Elliot stood next to the door and ushered him in, shutting it behind them.

"What's up?" he asked, sitting down at his desk. He was surprised to see the detective already making himself comfortable in a chair. He smirked, chuckling lightly. Elliot Stabler was never short of confidence, no matter when or where.

Elliot linked his fingers together. "I need to put in a request to have Monday off," he said. "I know it's last minute, but I just found out about it this morning. I'll work overtime next week to make up for it."

Don nodded. "Kathy?" he questioned, raising his eyebrows.

He hoped it wasn't anything serious. Cragen knew Elliot's family quite well since he had been in Special Victims for more than a decade. He had always liked Kathy; when Elliot had first joined the squad, she came to all of the parties and functions they had. She was always sociable and pleasant, and Don had always thought that they made a great couple.

The separation had knocked Elliot's feet out from under him and ripped him in two. Don

had to watch helplessly as his best detective and the man he loved like a son spiraled out of control. It had killed him to see Elliot so full of rage and hurt. It was like he had transformed into a different person.

"Yeah," he answered, sighing. He shook his head wryly. "We have a meeting with her lawyer on Friday to discuss alimony, but the guy had some sort of family emergency come up. So we have to meet Monday instead up in…."

He furrowed his eyebrows, trying to remember the name of the town. " Chesterfield?" He shrugged. "I don't know. Some hick town up near Syracuse. Of course, he insists on meeting in some swanky restaurant that will probably cost half my paycheck."

Cragen chuckled. "So…you'll need the whole day, then?"

If that's alright," Elliot said, nodding. "I figure I'll leave about eight to get there in time for lunch and hopefully be back by six."

Don nodded. "Alright," he said. "That's fine. We can work out overtime later."

"Thank you, Captain," Elliot said.

"Don't mention it," Cragen said. He put on a stern face, amusement twinkling in his eyes. "Now get back to work, Detective."

Elliot chuckled and stood up. "Yes, sir," he said, smiling.

At 6:30, the phone on Olivia's desk rang. "Benson," she answered, putting down her pen and stretching widely.

"Hey," Fin said. "Munch is heading over to…"

"NO!" she heard Munch say loudly, interrupting him. "I didn't-"

Fin pulled the phone away from his ear and turned his head toward his partner. "Yes, you are," he called. "You lost…get over it while you walk to the deli."

"What did you-" Munch's voice became closer and suddenly it was in her ear. "Don't listen to him, Olivia. He's-"

She laughed, holding the phone away from her ear as the sound of their arguing became louder. "Hey-" She laughed, trying to cut in. "Guys…"

"Munch is heading over to the deli," Fin said quickly, yanking the phone out of his partner's reach. "Do you guys want anything?"

She laughed, shaking her head. "Hold on," she said, putting her hand over the receiver. "Hey," she called to Elliot. He turned away from his locker to look at her, eyebrows raised. "You want anything from the deli?"

He shook his head, waving off the offer. She nodded toward the office and Elliot stepped over into the open doorway, sticking his head in. "Cap," he said. "You want anything from the deli? Munch is stopping for dinner."

Cragen paused mid-sentence and placed his hand over the telephone receiver. "Pastrami on rye," he called before resuming his conversation.

"Pastrami on rye for the captain," Olivia said, having heard him. "Ham and Swiss on a hoagie for me." She smiled. "Thanks."

She noticed Elliot gathering his things as she hung up. "You going home?" she asked.

"Yeah," he replied, locking the locker back up. He turned back toward her and smiled sarcastically. "The pit is waiting."

"The pit" was the current name of his new apartment. After a long divorce trial, an even longer custody hearing, and nearly three months of sleeping on the couches of his co-workers, he had finally landed his own place. Unfortunately, his work schedule had made it impossible to make the place resemble something of a home. Every morning he woke up vowing to tackle it when he got off work….and every night he came home exhausted and collapsed into bed.

He had only unpacked the bare essentials that he needed to get him through each day, and slept on a thin quilt thrown over his bed. His electricity needed some repair and the walls looked like they had been in need of a paint job since the 1960's, but he was thrilled to have found a place that was still in Queens. He loved the area, and it made seeing his kids easy and convenient.

Olivia grimaced. "Mmm," she grunted sympathetically. "Well…have a good time."

He smirked. "Always." He went to his desk and got his keys, looking at her with a grin. "See you tomorrow. Pick you up at 9:30?"

She smiled and nodded. "9:30," she confirmed.

He winked and left the squad room.

An hour later, he was pulling into the apartment complex that was now his residence. It unnerved him that he still had the impulse to turn off of the highway at the first exit, the one that he had taken every day for more than twenty years. It was hard to accept the fact that it would no longer take him home.

Shutting off the engine, he got out of his black Explorer and locked it. He stopped at his mailbox and headed upstairs to the fifth floor.

Apartment 513. His home now. He sighed as he walked down the hallway that made him feel ridiculously claustrophobic toward the door. There was nothing to distinguish it from any of the others.

Anonymous. The word made him ill. He was no longer Elliot Stabler, devoted family man and caregiver. Moving in had finalized the fate he had been fearing since the day Kathy had left him.

His life was reduced to anonymity.

Shaking his head, he slid the key through all of the locks and pushed the door open. Olivia had teased him when he first moved in because he had purchased three extra locks to install along with the standard one…even though she knew full well that he knew about the four locks she herself had in her apartment.

Stepping into the foyer, he flipped on the lights and dropped his keys on the small table next to the hall closet. He walked through the living room and into his bedroom.

He quickly shed his work clothes, pulling on a pair of mesh basketball shorts and an old Tool concert t-shirt as he headed back out.

For a minute he just stood still and looked around. There was so much stuff everywhere that he didn't even know where to start. He decided to tackle the most obvious task first and began to tug the boxes out from where they sat beside the couch.

By 10:30, the living room finally resembled something of a human inhabitance. Most of the cardboard boxes had been unpacked and flattened to be taken to the dumpster in the morning. The flat-screen television had been mounted and the entertainment center set up. He had his computer desk set up next to it with all of his office supplies organized on top. The cherry oak bookcase, his pride and joy, was predominantly displayed next to the window.

After shelving the last of his extensive book collection (his secret passion that he had never shared with the squad), he stood back and took a deep breath. Finally. One box left.

Pulling it over beside the desk, he sat down on the floor and ripped off the packing tape.

He carefully lifted put the first newspaper-covered item and set it on the floor, unrolling it gently. Lifting the frame, he fingered the glass wistfully.

His mother at thirty-five smiled out at him, looking radiant in her maternity smock. It had been a Christmas present on what they hadn't known would be her last one alive. She had presented each of her six children with the framed photo, saving him for last. Her eyes had taken a special glow when she looked at her youngest child, her hand reaching up to cradle his cheek.

"That's you and me, kid," she'd whispered. Her eyes had been tear-filled as she squeezed his hand. "You and me." Elliot had cried.

His eyes filled with tears and he quickly swiped his arm over his face. Getting to his feet, he placed the frame on top of the bookshelf in the very center. School photos of Elizabeth and Dickie were in a double frame that he placed on one side. The senior portraits of Kathleen and Maureen went on the other side.

He paused as he lifted the next one. It had been taken at his sister-in-law's wedding. Kathy looked gorgeous in her light blue dress as she wrapped his arms around his shoulders from behind, smiling widely. Both sets of blue eyes were bright and stunning, his a shade darker than hers.

After gazing at it for a minute, he placed it next to Maureen's photo. The last frame held a recent picture of himself, Olivia, and Cragen that had been taken at his last birthday.

The framed diploma from Queens College proudly proclaiming his Bachelor of Arts degree in criminal justice went up on the wall over the desk. On one side of it he placed a commendation that he had received when he was in the Marines; on the other side a mounted brass medal and certificate from when he had been promoted to 1st grade detective five years earlier.

He stomped on the box to crush it flat and checked his watch, surprised when he discovered that it was nearly 12:30. Satisfied that he had at least gotten one room finished, he decided to call it a night and headed for bed.

Olivia climbed out of the bubble bath and wrapped a fluffy towel around herself, reaching over to the sink to turn off the radio. Leaning down, she unplugged the stopper in the tub and let the water begin to drain out. Grabbing her magazine and cordless phone from where she had placed them on the floor next to the tub, she turned off the light and walked out of the bathroom.

She went into her bedroom and opened her closet, debating on what she would wear the next morning to church. Not that she had all that big of a selection; she wore dresses mostly only on dates and those were certainly not appropriate for church.

Digging through her slacks, blouses, and sweaters, she began searching for the skirts that she knew she had in there somewhere. It had been so long since she had worn a skirt that she was betting they were stashed in the back and wrinkled. After pushing a large pile of sweaters to the floor, she finally found what she was looking for.

Pulling all of them out, she tossed them on the bed and put the sweaters back in their place. Coming out, she switched on the iron and let it heat up while she examined the wrinkled mess on her bed.

She had a short jean skirt that she had probably worn when she was twenty, a suede khaki-colored one that she had been unable to resist on clearance, a modest black one that she sometimes wore to court, and long maroon-colored skirt that she liked to wear in the winter with black boots.

Holding each one up for a minute, she decided on the khaki one and tossed it to the side. Then she went ahead and ironed the other ones, figuring she may as well hang them up because she never knew when she might need to wear one. Once that was done, she ironed the khaki skirt and laid it out flat on her pillow.

It was going to be hot tomorrow, so she didn't want to wear a heavy top. Poking through her closet again, she picked out an olive-colored tank top that had a slightly sequined gold pattern etched across the bust. The straps were thin, and after a moment's consideration, she also picked out a light white shrug.

Putting the items together, she critiqued her choices and decided that she was satisfied. Nodding to herself, she placed each article back on its hanger and hung them on the closet doorknob for the next day.

Once that was accomplished, Olivia unwrapped the towel from around her body and put on her pajamas. She headed back out into the living room to shut off the lights and check the door locks. It was almost 1 am when she crawled into bed.

Elliot huffed in annoyance and tried again to position himself comfortably. For some reason, he wasn't able to fall asleep tonight, despite it being nearly 1:30 in the morning. He had been tossing around for almost an hour and was still wide-awake.

Thoughts of Monday kept creeping into his mind. He didn't know if he was strong enough to take this step yet. Kathy's insistence on setting up equal alimony payments told him that she was ready to move on….and he didn't think he was.

He couldn't deny it, and wouldn't if anyone had ever asked. But he was stuck in a place right now that was darker than he imagined. He still loved Kathy more than anything in the world and always would. But to be quite honest, if given the chance to have her back, he didn't know if he would do it. So much had changed now between both of them, individually and as a couple, that being around her now was like being around a stranger. She was Kathy, but she wasn't his Kathy anymore.

But he also didn't know if he could handle having things become final. To settle the divorce would mean that she would be permanently out of his life and would start to forget about him. He couldn't do that. Never in a million years could he forget about her, and he didn't want to. To see her moving on and finding another man would kill him.

He had always felt bitter over how complicated things had become, but if he were to be honest with himself he knew he had to take some of the blame. When she announced that she was leaving him last year, he hadn't realized then that she had been testing him. Testing him to see if he would fight for her, for their marriage….and he hadn't. He had let her go. It was the biggest mistake of his entire life.

If only he could have that second back…that one second before she walked out the door….he would throw his badge into the Hudson if that's what it would take to make her stay. She had always accused him of putting her and the kids second over his job; it had been an argument that had lasted almost the entire duration of their marriage. He had always become so defensive….looking back now he realized that his defensiveness stemmed from the truth that he had refused to acknowledge.

The one thing that had torn them apart was now all he had. He had sacrificed everything- his wife, his children, and his happiness- for a job that would forever run circles around him. At the end of the day, there was always another rapist, another child abused, another elderly man murdered. No matter how many hours he put in, that fact would never change.

The irony was murderous. Every day he wished to God that he could walk away from his job, and every second away from work was spent thinking about the next rapist he needed to catch. It was a self-destructive cycle that had bled into his every pore. He no longer had control of his life….his life had control of him.

Huffing again, he turned over and tried to force the thoughts from his mind. Monday was going to come whether he was ready or not, and the last thing he needed tomorrow was not enough sleep.