Title: Under Pressure

Author: Monica Edwards

Pairings: Elliot and Olivia, Olivia and Other

Part 4 rated R (For Language & Sexual Situations)

Disclaimer: Though this Fic is based LOOSELY on The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood the plot idea isn't mine it's hers. The characters of Elliot Stabler and Olivia Benson aren't mine either. Just repeat to yourself it's just a story, and I really should relax.

Under Pressure

The house was a large one, and probably contained over 30 rooms, but Olivia and her new friend Monica shared one room. It was at the top of the stairs, three doors down, and to the left. It was a nice room, with two twin beds a few feet away from each other. The comforters were black and red, and the pillows were black and red too. After the commander showed them to their room he closed the door behind him and locked it twice. Monica went over to her bed and sat down on it, and then looked at Olivia. She sighed and walked over to her bed, which was closest to the door, and sat down. She pulled her red and black bag onto her lap and unzipped it. She then turned it over on the bed and dumped out everything that was inside.

What fell out were things that she was going to need, and nothing else. A toothbrush, a regular brush, three red and black dresses like the one she was already wearing, socks, underwear (no bras), and an extra set of shoes. Across from the two beds was a dresser with six drawers. Three on the left side and three on the right. She picked up her dresses and walked over to the drawers, chose one of the ones on the left side, and dumped her dresses, socks, and underwear in there. She did this without any sort of organization, she did it just to get it done. Monica remained on her bed, but now she had pulled her knees up to her chin and was rocking just slightly.

"Olivia," She suddenly whispered and Olivia turned and looked at her, "I don't think I can do this." She pulled her braid over her shoulder, undid the rubberband that was holding it together and ran a hand through it gently to part the hair. She then opened her bag, rummaged around, and found the brush and started to brush it gently.

"It'll be okay," Olivia said and then walked over to her and sat down on the bed next to her, "I'll get us out of here. I have a good friend that is going to come and help us." She said that with conviction in her voice, although she had no idea of knowing if it was actually true or not.

"Elliot? The guy you mentioned in the limo?" Monica continued to brush her beautiful long hair over her shoulder, being careful when she got to the knots. "He's probably dead." She then muttered forgetting about how Olivia had reacted before when she heard that. She looked at Olivia and winced, expecting to get attacked by her but the woman just smiled.

"He's not dead, I know him." She said Elliot was strong, he would pretend to be broken and use his acting skills to make it all the way to the top of the chain of command. He would then earn his freedom and come and get her, that's all there was to it. It was one of the only things keeping her going. She couldn't afford to waste time thinking he was dead, because then she too would give up hope and it would all be over.

"I'm a lesbian," Monica blurted out suddenly, "I can't have sex with that man down there." She was talking about the commander. Olivia thought about it for a moment and then remembered that he had talked about breeding. She shuddered as the realization dawned on her that she was probably going to have to have sex with him too. It would definately be weird, and even hard for Monica to have sex with a man...could she take it in her place? What the commander meant by breeding probably meant rape, and she certainly didn't want to be raped instead of Monica just to save her some awkwardness. She could barely believe that the world went from rape being illegal to legal, in order to breed.

"I'll do everything I can to keep that from happening, to the both of us." Olivia tried to reassure her. Monica nodded and pulled her hair up into a high ponytail atop her head. There was a bathroom attached to the room, the door to it was open and she could see inside. She got up and went into the bathroom. The window in here was too small to climb out of, besides it was too high up, just like the window in the main bedroom. She quickly opened the medicine cabinet to see if there was anything in there she could use as a weapon, but it was completely cleaned out. She left the bathroom empty handed and came back over to Monica's bed.

"What do we do now?"

"We wait." Olivia replied.

The waiting seemed to take forever. Olivia lay on the bed on her back staring up at the blank white celing. She didn't have a watch on, and there was no clock in the room so all she could do was guess how much time had passed. Monica lay on her bed too, looking up at the celing just like Olivia. Finally there was the click on the door of the locks turning. The door opened slowly and the commander stood there looking them over.

"Our food for the day has arrived." He said to them and then turned to walk out of the door, "I hope that at least one of you knows how to cook." Then he stepped out into the hallway. Monica sat up and rubbed her eyes. Olivia slowly got to her feet and walked towards the door, Monica followed her slowly. They both stepped into the hallway and looked at the commander. He was still in uniform and he was still wearing a gun.

"Cook?" Olivia asked and looked over to Monica. She had cooked for herself on many occasions and she liked what she ate. She did although, cook for Elliot once, he didn't exactly say it was bad but he did jokingly tell her to keep her day job. At the time she thought it was funny, it didn't matter if he really liked her cooking or not because she liked it and that was all that mattered.

"I can cook." Monica said after seeing the look in Olivia's eyes, "It used to be a hobby of mine actually." The commander nodded and started to head down the hallway. They followed him down the stairs and around the corner. Olivia took a look around, it was a nice home and really big, she never thought she would be living in a place that big in her entire life. He lead them into the kitchen where there was some food set out on the counters, uncooked, unprepared. Monica immediately got to work, sorting through everything that was presented to her. Before Olivia could say anything to the effect of helping, the commander grabbed her arm and started to pull her into another room. It was just through the kitchen and through a doorway, and they were in a lounge.

"Kneel down." He said to her and then motioned to a red pillow that had been set out on the floor next to a chair. She looked at him, wondering if he was joking around, but the look in his eyes confirmed that he was dead serious. "You are to kneel when you are with me." She rolled her eyes and he slapped her across the face. She reeled from the slap, and then blinked a few times...did he really just hit her for rolling her eyes at him? She put a hand to her face and kneeled down on the pillow that was provided for her.

"What do you want from me?" She said turning her head to look at him. He slapped her again, harder this time.

"Don't EVER look me in the eyes." he nearly shouted at her, "Look at your hands or the floor, NEVER at me." He walked over to a small bar that was set up in the corner. He took out a glass and picked up a bottle and filled it with whiskey. He then walked over to one of the nice leather chairs across from her and sat down. She continued to look at the floor, she could feel the cut on her cheek start to bleed again. She put a hand to her cheek and wiped the blood away before folding her hands back in her lap. She didn't know why she wasn't putting up much of a fight, but she thought that she was beginning to see that there was no use. "What did you do before this?"

"Me?"

"Yes you who the fuck do you think I'm talking to woman?" He spat at her she winced slightly and moved back realizing that he was close enough to her to kick her if he wanted to. She started to look up but then remembered that it wasn't allowed so her attention went back to her hands. Her manicure was starting to wear off, and one of her nails was broken, she frowned slightly.

"I was a detective with the special victim's unit in New York City." She said wondering why the hell he wanted to know that. He sort of grunted and then took a sip of his drink. Long before women lost their bank accounts and property they had outlawed alcohol, so why in the world was he drinking it now? Maybe he needed something to help him beat women up. She clenched her teeth slightly and then relaxed, there was no use in getting mad or asking questions. He after all was the one in control and if he wanted to drink there was absolutely nothing she could do to stop him.

"And now you aren't." He replied and set his glass on the table next to him. It was a nice crystal glass with diamond etchings in the side. She had seen glasses like that in a bridal magazine once, they were rather expensive and yet this man had shelves in the room just lined with them. "Remember that when I'm fucking you tonight." She swallowed hard and looked up at him, her eyes meeting his in a stone cold glare.

"You are NOT going to TOUCH me is that clear?" She said keeping eye contact with him. There was no way she was going to let this happen, she was going to fight tooth and nail with everything she had to prevent being raped. He glared back down at her, his beady eyes almost flashed red with anger. He got up and grabbed her by her hair, he pulled back and punched her in the jaw as hard as he could. She cried out in surprise and fell back onto the floor. He had hit her hard enough that she was actually seeing stars. Once she was down, he didn't stop there, he kicked her in the side and when she curled up he kicked her in the back.

"I'll do whatever the hell I want with you..." He got down and pulled her hair back again so she was looking at him, "Remember, I OWN you now, you have nothing but me. If I want you to jump you say 'How fucking high, sir?" She wasn't crying but she felt it coming on, her body was already sore from the beating she had taken earlier in the gym, and this was making it all the worse. She looked away from him, she couldn't stand to meet his gaze anymore.

"Fuck you." She groaned, and then without thinking about it she gathered the spit in her mouth and launched it at his face. It connected with a sickening SPLAT, landing on his right cheek. He reached up and wiped it away in disgust. He backed up and reached behind him, he grabbed a sterling silver candle holder from the shelf and raised it above his head. It came down hard, but just before it hit her she managed to roll out of the way. It took a lot of effort but she got to her feet and into a fighting stance. There was no way she was going to be hit with a weapon. He growled at her angrily and moved towards her again, swinging back the candle holder, ready to hit her with all the fury that raged inside of him.

"First course is..." Monica said suddenly appearing in the doorway. She looked at the commander and then at Olivia who was bleeding from her face. Her lip was starting to swell up just slightly and the cut on her cheek was about to start swelling too. "Olivia...what's going on here?"

"Her name is MIRIAM!" He swung on her but amazingly she caught the weapon in her hand and twisted it out of his. She held it up high and got ready to swing it, when he quickly pulled his gun from his holster and trained it on her. She knew she had been beat, so she dropped the candle holder and put her hands up in a sign of surrender. He walked over to her and pushed her down onto her knees harshly. He got down and put the gun under her chin, if he was to pull the trigger then her brains would be splattered all over the celing, "Don't forget it." He growled at her, he then stood up and grabbed her by the hair again and pulled her to her feet. He turned to look at Monica, a look of calm washed over his face and he cleared his throat gently.

"Um..." Monica stuttered, "I...um...first course is ready...it's just um...a salad I mean you could skip it...if you...uh...wanted." She breathed, he still had the gun out and it was obvious that she was nervous about that. He looked down and realized that he was still holding the weapon. He laughed slightly at her nervousness and holstered the gun. On impulse Olivia reached for the gun, but in one swift move her backhanded her sending her to the floor.

"Don't even think about it." He growled and then went over to Monica, "Alright, Josephine a salad sounds nice." His voice was different, cheery even. Olivia slowly climbed to her feet and started to follow them out of the room, "You aren't eating, get up to your room I'll see you later." The comment was directed at Olivia and she knew it. She wiped her face again, this time she saw more blood on her fingers, her nose was bleeding too, just slightly though. She thought about making a run for it but all of the doors had locks, and only the commander had the keys. She nodded slowly at his turned back and left the room. She headed up the stairs, and then into the room...her room, three doors down and to the left. She counted each door knob before her room before stumbling in and landing on the bed. She pressed her face into the pillow and started to cry...it was only okay because the commander didn't know about it.

"Elliot," She breathed through her sobs, "Elliot where are you? Oh God Elliot..." She pressed her face even more into the pillow to muffle her cries. She was feeling sorry for herself, ever so sorry. She didn't really pray to anyone or anything so all she could think to do was call his name over and over again. After she had cried for almost fifteen minutes she stopped and pulled herself together. She rolled over onto her back and looked up at the ceiling. Her whole body ached, partly from the beating, and partly from the after effects of crying so hard. "Where are you?" she whispered into the empty room, "I need you..." And this wasn't even the worst...a beating was nothing compared to what would happen later that evening...and she didn't know if she could take it. She curled up into a fetal position and hugged the pillow close to her, remembering what Elliot felt like in her arms. She sniffled again and closed her eyes, all she could do now was sleep.

End Part IV