AN: DAMN! I have been busy fools! I have been wanting to write this chapter for days and things keep getting in the way. I am so sorry for the delay, and if I didn't get to reply to your review- slap me. OUCH! I totally suck- AGAIN! I love all of your feedback. It is greatly appreciated. I know there has been some hubbub about feedback recently. Might I add- that I too, can be a terrible fanfic reader sometimes. Not because I don't leave reviews. I always leave reviews. I feel like if I had the time to read it, then I should give the author my feedback in some kind of way. It's like a small payment for their time and efforts. That and it's just good fun to review. I've gained so many wonderful penpals by reviewing things. Kisses to all of you! But sometimes I will read the first chapter to something, love it, and then put it on my "Alert" list to save the rest of the story for a rainy day, and then the rain never comes, and it takes me months to finish it. Not because I didn't love it- but merely because I get swamped every now and again. And I spend a large majority of my time reading newspapers and stories for job related research. So I sometimes just want to sit and write, but not read. I suck I know, but I think there are a lot of us out there like that. Especially you gals in school. So by getting your feedback- I truly appreciate it! Thank you so so so so much. And I hope you are having fun with this story. I liked this chapter but I feel like it's just a set up for the chapters that I really want to write, so I hope it's not too much of a Dick tease. No Wolfe pun intended.

Laura- I hope you are feeling better. I'm totally sorry that I haven't e-mailed you. The flu sucks ass! Sam- I don't know why I confuse you, but sometimes I think I add things---just because I know that it will confuse you…..I'm evil! Brew hahahahhahahahhah! Jenne get your spinach out of my mouth you silly side slicker you!

And for those of you utterly lost in my author's note- ignore my blabbering and have a fun time reading the next chapter of this horrid crisis called love!

Photogenic

Olivia walked into the precinct bright and early the next morning. She smiled at Elliot's empty desk and placed the New York Times neatly in the center of its' rectangular surface. The pictures of his kids smiled up at her and she bent over to take a look at the photo shot long before she'd ever known them. They were much younger. Maureen still had baby cheeks and the twins were barely in Pre-school. Kathleen sat next to her mother, willful, shy, and craving affection. Olivia found her to be pretty typical for a middle child, but even with all of her charm and psychological wisdom, Olivia could never quite break Kathleen's skeptical attitude. Olivia looked into the eyes of the younger version of Kathleen. She searched for answers in that six-year-old smile, but the only thing that came to her was the memory of Kathleen's, now grown face, horrified and full of disdain. That was enough to convince Olivia that even if her estranged memory did happen, it was probably better left unsaid. Still she longed to feel his lips again. And she could sense that Elliot was changed by the connection, but she couldn't find a reason to bring it up. She was too afraid of the outcome. Fear and longing, were dangerous urges to have. The memory of it had been flickering in her mind for almost a month. It taunted her and teased her to ask for more, but the only thing she could muster from these feelings was flushed cheeks and a vague silence. The silence was different and strangely ground breaking from the usual silence she and Elliot proclaimed. It was a shy silence, an awkward silence. It was anything but angry and familiar. The newfound territory left her at unease.

Quickly her logical brain cell's forced the thoughts away as her eyes landed on the very young Elliot and Kathy Stabler, the proud parents of four…now five. Elliot still had hair and that egotistic smile that he was famous for. He was thin, young, fresh-faced. She wondered how long it had been since their last family photo. She envisioned the seven of them piling in front of a camera at the Wal-Mart photo center. EJ sleeping, Maureen primping, Kathleen grumping, the twins hitting each other, and Kathy smiling through it all. She could see it as if it were happening before her very eyes. And Elliot…well, Elliot's blurred features would not stay focused, but his voice was as clear as a bell.

"We're gonna do this if it kills me, now will you shut up and stand still. Dickie did you even comb your hair? Kathleen, I've had enough of the whining cut it out and do this for your mother. Can we do this for your mother? Maureen? Maureen! Where did she go? Ah- that's it, I give up. I can't…I can't do it anymore." All of the regular family chaos would commence around him as he questioned why he still remained in their picture. And it was amazing that even in this old photo, through all of the smiles, the happy memory still held a façade of depression in it. All of this, captured in one image for Olivia to observe from afar. And who was she to judge? Maybe she didn't mind that it was dysfunctional or maybe it made her want to fix it. Either way, there it was, calling to her like a helpless infant.

"Thanks, Don. I really appreciate this," said a familiar voice from behind her.

She lifted her head to see Dean with his back towards her talking to Don from his office doorway.

"Dean."

He turned to see her standing next to him.

"Olivia, we were just talking about you."

"Oh," she nodded curiously. "So that's why my ears were ringing."

"Right," he grinned.

Cragen leaned on the side of the doorway and casually smiled at the two of them. "I'm sure the ringing was after shock from the pushy Salvation Santa in the lobby."

"What is with that guy," Olivia laughed. "I've heard of fighting for the cause, but that guy has taken bell ringing to a whole new level. So what's with the meeting?"

"How do you know it was a meeting? I could be stopping by to say hello," Dean winked.

"Please. Fed's don't usually linger in the halls of ruffian low life's like ourselves, unless we're needed, wanted, or being persecuted."

Cragen sighed with a hint of laughter and embarrassment. Softly he eased into his all-serious head wrinkle. "Apparently, our secret Santa, Arnold Crumski, isn't Arnold Crumski at all. They found his body at the bottom of the Hudson this morning. Our real perp is a real… Christmas case. As in, he's an international nut case with a Jack the Ripper past and a need to feed his Grinch complex. He's been festively violating children all over the world for quite some time now."

"That's a sleigh riding comfort," Olivia derived.

"He started in Europe," Dean continued. "Then made his way to the states four years ago. We've been tracking him since then. Clement Moore is the name he goes by, but he has several other alias'."

"Clement Moore? Like 'The Night Before Christmas', Clement Moore," Olivia questioned.

Don fidgeted next to them as he fixed his tie. "That's the one. Needless to say, we're passing this case over, but they want a detective from our office to cooperate the details with them-"

"Whoa, wait," Olivia interrupted. "I told you I was finished doing under cover work outside of our jurisdiction."

Cragen gave her a look and continued with his own interruption. "That's why I'm sending Elliot."

Her face went from defensive to broken, and before she could stop the reaction, Dean noticed and touched her arm lightly. "It's nothing intense. We'll be working with your office. He'll be backing your loose cannon before you know it."

She pulled her arm away to hide the weakness in her body language. "You got some nerve, Porter. My cannon only fires when given reason to. Cap, whatever you need to do to close the case is fine with me as long as I don't have to work with a newbie or a Fed."

"Cause that's the same thing?" Dean smirked.

"If the shoe fits," she added without one hint of jest or eye contact.

Don checked his watch and headed for his coat. "You'll be working with Munch, Liv. I gotta run. I got a meeting with the boss man. I'll be out all day. Work on closing the Linderman case. Dean will take care of the Crumpski-- or Moore case, I guess it would be called now, with Elliot. Lake and Fin are scheduled to come in at noon to add in their two cents, but if you could make sure they don't get too caught up that'd be great. Our caseload is gonna explode with the Holiday crisis rush, and I can't afford to give three of my detectives to the Fed's. No offense, Dean."

"None taken."

Olivia jumped at the sound of Lake's name and tried to manipulate the situation before Cragen could leave. "Cap- why can't you put Lake on the case-"

"Cause he's a newbie. Liv, I want anything pending out of here before the twenty-third. Please remind everybody of that. We've only got two days."

She wanted to finish her disagreement, but knew it'd only be a waste of energy. "Got it. Should I take a pay raise while I'm at it?"

"If you consider fruitcake a raise, then yes." He patted her on the shoulder and winked before heading towards the elevators. "Tis the season to be weary. You know I appreciate it, Liv. And, Dean, thanks."

The office grew quiet and Olivia stood next to Dean awkwardly. "So how's life Porter?"

"Good. The city is growing on me."

"Good," she replied shortly as she sat at her desk and started on the Linderman case like the good cop that she'd been known to be every now and again. Dean checked his watch then sat at Elliot's desk.

"So is your partner always late to work or did you just get here early?"

"Early—Ah, what are you doing?"

Dean was riffling through the New York Times on Elliot's desk and stopped at the tone in Olivia's voice. "Reading the paper."

She took a moment and then began to sort through files again. "Just make sure you put it back."

Dean folded the paper and dropped it onto Elliot's desk with a smile. The pages caused a slight breeze that lifted the taped picture of EJ from the corner of Elliot's computer monitor. Gently it floated through the crack between the two desks.

"Oop, runaway baby-"

Olivia sighed heavily and dipped under her desk to grab the photo. She then ripped open her desk drawer and pulled off a piece of scotch tape. "Porter, you're in my office for two minutes and already you're wrecking the place."

"Calm down, he won't know. I'm glad to know you leave of absence hasn't broken that annoying ball crushing disposition of yours."

"What doesn't kill me only makes me stronger," she jabbed as she reached over her desk and to stick the picture back onto Elliot's computer. Her reach wasn't quite long enough and Dean grabbed at the tape. "Move your hand, Benson, it's all crocked."

"Porter, I got it."

As they fought about the angle and the precise placement of the tape Olivia grew closer and closer to the monitor. Her body hanging over the two desks as her feet balanced on the swivel chair. Every inch she took was an inch closer to a full view of busty skin under the red button down blouse she wore. "You just got your finger prints all over the-"

"Oh, he'll never notice that," Dean smirked.

"I will!"

"Fine I'll wipe it off."

He grabbed for his handkerchief and wiped at the photo, while Olivia's hand grabbed and fussed with the pitiful job he was doing.

"Who tapes a picture to a computer? Hasn't he ever heard of a frame?"

"Yeah I have," Elliot said from behind them. Olivia froze in mid wipe and looked up at Elliot like a deer in headlights. She was about to reply when she noticed Elliot's eyes flicker to her chest, which, now that he'd pointed it out, felt a tad unearthed.

"Huh? Ah…" she mumble-gasped as she reached down to cover herself. The wheels on her chair gave out at the jolt of her arm and the next thing she knew her body was plunging towards both desks along with her busty bosom and any tough girl attitude that she may have conveyed within the last five minutes. She wasn't sure what was worse the parts of her body that were now being poked from the sharp objects that caught her fall or her tarnished feminine pride.

Both men jumped to help her up

"I got her, " Dean said grabbing at her arm.

"AH ah ah I got her. Liv, we both know that acrobats is not your strong point," Elliot mocked sweetly as he smoothly lifted her away from the desk and Dean's gracious attempts.

She held her embarrassed glare away from their stares and then pushed the two of them away before anything obscene could further damage the situation. "I'm fine. I got it. Just back up…do I look like disabled? Don't answer that. Can you go about your jobs already."

Olivia straightened herself out. Her face was red and she avoided any and all reactions like the plague. Just when she thought the nightmare was over Elliot's hand reached for her chest….

"My paper weight must have nicked-"

SLAP. She instinctually lashed out at the phalange headed for her already bashful cleavage.

"Hey, I'm – sorry. You got a cut."

She looked down and before she knew it not one, but two hands were headed for the small cut on her chest.

"Whoa! Guys! Back it up! I got it, I got it Okay!" Quickly she pulled her blouse closed and backed away from them. That would teach her never to shop at Express again. She had a feeling it was a bad purchase when she realized it was intentionally missing two of the top buttons. That's what she gets for trying to be trendy.

Elliot pushed hard into Dean and headed for the first aid kit in his desk.

"Excuse you," Dean mumbled.

"Sorry, what?" Elliot said with a hint of intimidation.

"I said excuse me."

"What'd you fart?"

"No, but where I come from we don't push people unless there's a problem. You got a problem?"

Elliot tore off the paper around the band-aid with his teeth and sarcastically smiled at him. "Naw. Are you insinuating that I got a problem?"

Dean staggered in a bit of confusion and shrugged a "No."

Elliot then walked back to Olivia on the opposite side of the Dean and handed her the band-aid, all the while watching Porter with his intense blue eyes.

The two men stood with a tension that she'd only ever seen from over achieving super heroes and maybe once during a school yard fight. Mouths dropped, shoulders back, and faces flushed. Olivia took a moment to take it all in quietly and then turned for the other direction. "I'll be in the bathroom. Elliot, Captain says you're with Dean on the Crumski Case." She paused with her back to them, just to make sure they weren't going to hit each other and when Elliot didn't move she took another step out of the office. "He'll fill you in."

Olivia was gone before Elliot could object. He glanced at Dean's pretty boy face and shook off his ego with a cock of the head and a strut towards his chair. Dean wiped the hair from his eye and twitched his upper lip into a professional stone face. It was on eight o'clock, and it was going to be a long day.

SCENE

Olivia walked into the precinct with Munch yammering into her ear.

"That blood sample will do it. You want to give it to Casey or should I?"

"You can-" She started but then stopped when they got into the office and saw Casey sitting on Lake's desk. His hand was on her thigh and they were talking with their heads much closer than the average ADA/ Detective personal would normal reach. When they're entrance was known, Casey stood up quickly and brushed at an invisible piece of lint on her skirt.

"I'll need more information for a warrant," She said before heading out.

"Oh no she didn't," Olivia said to Munch before grabbing the blood results from Munch's hand and followed Casey towards the elevators.

Munch stood in the doorway alone and shook his head at the circus of hormones and estrogen contaminating his usually sane unit members.

"Take a lunch break Munch. I'll be back in an hour."

Olivia jogged to catch up with Casey. "Casey. Case."

"Yeah," she said with a grumble.

"Hey, I've got results for the Linderman case. It's pretty much in the bag."

"Great."

Casey tapped her foot and huffed next to the elevator.

"Casey, can we talk?"

"I don't know, can we?"

"I'm on break. How about lunch? I promise I won't freak out this time."

Casey thought about it and when the elevator doors opened she nodded. "I gotta talk to my boss real quick. I'll meet you at the café on the corner in fifteen."

"Okay," Olivia nodded.

As Casey's hostile image disappeared behind the first set of elevators, Dean and Elliot's fire and ice image appeared in the second set.

"Dean, you can't possibly agree with the way your department is handling this. Listen, give me one –Liv-," Elliot shot his words towards Olivia as they walked past her.

"Hey," she said almost catching both men off guard.

Elliot stopped. "Hold up, wait for me okay?"

"I can't. I gotta get a table at the café."

"Great wait for me and I'll come."

"El, I can't-"

" Porter-" Elliot switched back and forth.

Olivia threw her arm between the elevator doors to hold it for Elliot. "Liv, give me a minute. Dean, I'm telling you, call your department, if this is our guy, I can break him."

The doors tried to close on Olivia again, and she stepped out of the shaft and leaned next to the vending machines.

"Just give me thirty minutes and an interrogation room," Elliot pleaded.

"Elliot, I'll try, but I can't promise anything. They're gonna want more than some crazy old guy's testimony. He couldn't even tell me what the president's name is."

Olivia, shot a look at Dean and interrupted his comment. "Hey, Joseph, happens to be my neighbor and he's sharper than a tack. He was probably making a joke. Did he say Nixon and then correct it with Hitler?"

"Thank you peanut gallery," Dean said stepping in front of Elliot.

"It was a joke, Dean. Joseph used to write old vaudeville sketches for Johnny Carson and Jay Marshal. His alibi is good. Trust Elliot."

"Thank you!" Elliot said grabbing Dean's arm and forcing himself back into the conversation.

Dean then flared his nostrils at Elliot's presence and shook his head. "Fine, Stabler, I'll get you the damn interrogation, but you're gonna have to brief me on what you're going to say. "

"What?!"

"I'm serious. I'm giving you twenty minutes to get it together, so you better get started on it. I can't hand this interrogation over to a cop. No offense."

The crease in Elliot's eyebrows grew an inch deeper and he backed away contemplating the punch. "Porter, I'm finished with this game. You're either working with me or setting me up."

"I'm following standard procedures. I'm sorry you're not used to obeying rules, but it's time you started."

Elliot pushed Dean in the chest. "What's your deal? You come here and ask for our help- MY- help, and you question or ignore anything that I bring to the table."

"I didn't come here for your help. I came here, because my higher up told me that was what I was to do. And as for you...look it's not that I don't trust you--" Dean glanced at Olivia's defensive stance and cleared his throat. "You know, this isn't the kind of argument we should be having in a Precinct hallway in front of a lady. If you have a problem, take it up with Cragen."

Elliot looked at him with anger. He could have punched Dean's bleached teeth in if she hadn't been standing next to him. His eyes flickered towards Olivia and that urge to kick Dean's ass weakened knowing that his lack of self-control would cause a disappointment from her that was too much for him to handle right now. He grew silent and backed away. "I will take it up with Cragen. And when you lose your case, you only have yourself to blame." Elliot took one more quick glace at Olivia and started for the office.

As soon as Dean was through with Elliot he leaned on the wall next to Olivia and tried to charm the tension away. "Now I know why you two get along so well. I just don't know how you haven't killed each other."

"Heh….yeah."

"So, you going to lunch? I'd love to join you. We can…catch up. You know, the old city girl show'n the small town guy how to order an ethnic meal."

All of the sudden Olivia felt dirty and caught off guard. His pick up line was much too close to her bubble, not to mention, she could see Elliot's head turn to face them, just past Dean's shoulder. "Ah…thanks, but I don't think so. Besides I'm going out with Casey. It's a girl thing."

"Okay, suit yourself. How's the paper cut?"

"Huh? Oh! Fine. It's fine," she said as she self-consciously flipped her hand to her chest and held the top closed. Again she noticed Elliot, and then caught Dean's glance at her blouse. "Okay, well, I'm going now…"

"We're doing lunch tomorrow, Benson. My treat."

"Dean, I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Why, because of Stabler? He's fine. Lunch has got nothing to do with work. We're not raping up this case anytime soon. You and me- lunch. Tomorrow."

"It's not that. I just don't mix business with pleasure."

"Pleasure? Well geez, I was just thinking we'd get Chinese, but if you-"

"Hey HEY! You heard the woman, she doesn't want to eat lunch with you," Elliot jumped as he headed back towards Dean. "That's pretty chauvinist of you Mr. professional."

"I'm taking a friend to lunch. What's that got to do chauvinism? And who said it was any of your business?"

"I don't know Captain Cologne, could it be the way you've been gawking at her chest all morning or your slimy demeanor peppered with the worst pick up line I've ever had to witness. And she is my business."

"Oh- and that's not crossing a line! Does she know about your business mixing with hers? What is your problem?"

Elliot got in his face and pushed him away from Olivia "You want to know what my problem is, your high and mighty attitude. Stop getting in the way of this case, do your job, trust me…and quit hitting on my partner at work. It may not offend her, but it offends me. For a federal agent I'm not impressed by your moral at all."

"Elliot," Olivia gapped.

Dean flipped his hair to the side and turned down the hallway. "Stabler, you're way out of line!"

"Am I!?

"Elliot," Olivia intervened. "Both of you, stop! Dean, I don't do lunch dates with men I work with unless we're accompanied with another co-worker. It's a personal rule mine." That was a lie. "Elliot, stop drawing conclusions. I don't know what either of you're issues are, but you both need to suck it up before your personal…things.. mess up this case."

Dean and Elliot stood on opposite sides of the hallway and nodded in agreement.

They both mumbled an apology and Dean glanced at the two detectives before heading towards the bathrooms.

Elliot's tense stance melted away. "Nice cover up story."

"What is your deal," She snapped.

" I don't like him."

"Well, that's obvious. Elliot, you're judging a book by its' cover and I can see your anger. Don't even try to ignore it. If I hadn't been standing here you would be on probation right now."

"Liv…Okay, you're right. But the guy thinks just because he makes two figures more than me that he knows something that I don't. He makes me feel like I'm at a job interview and I have no credentials. It's bullshit. And I'm not going to work a job just to blow his department's dick. If they want my help then they gotta start taking me seriously. The only reason they wanted to use our department in the first place is to have something to blame when they lose Moore for the tenth time in four years."

Elliot's temper roared to a fiery ball of red and then defused itself as he gazed at Olivia standing next to him with her, ever gleaming supportive understanding eyes. It was all the confidence he needed to get through this federal mind fuck that he'd been thrown into.

She flinched a bit and got a hold of herself. "Okay."

"So where we eating?"

"We're not eating anywhere. I have a date with Casey. Girl talk."

"Oh..."

Elliot scratched his head.

"Sorry, Charlie. Tomorrow?"

Elliot's bottom lip pushed out like it unconsciously did when he wasn't getting his way and he nodded slightly.

The elevator opened and Olivia stepped in. She could see the disappointment on his face and it was almost enjoyable. If anything she was glad to know that he did or could actually miss her and that maybe she didn't dream that kiss. "El."

"Yeah."

"I'll even make up a cover story for you."

He smiled "Better be creative or you're fired."

"Come on, would I settle for anything less than creative?"

"Say hi to Casey for me."

The elevator doors closed and Olivia's mind began to race with a million mixed feelings and images. What was she was supposed to believe? Was Elliot giving her signals or was she confusing 'signals' with friendship? The torment was becoming impossible to live through and even more difficult to detect. Why in god's name did she have to fall for him? As the elevator started down to the first floor the jolting movement sent her stomach into a whirlwind of panicky butterflies. It didn't seem to matter where she went or what she did, he was always there. Again she thought of the picture on his desk and realized that the only recent photos of her life all contained him in every shot. The pictures flashed quickly through her thoughts and she grabbed the wall of the elevator and closed her eyes tightly to make it stop. It was like a disease that had no cure. The doors opened and she stepped into the lobby. Just when she thought her head couldn't get any more clouded a bright flash popped in front of her.

"Merry Christmas! Photo for a dollar? All proceeds go to the Salvation Army."

The Salvation Army Santa Claus flapped a Polaroid picture in Olivia's face.

"No thanks. I already gave at the office."

"Jesus doesn't like liars, detective."

The man followed her to the open doors flipping the picture next to her ear. "Look how nice you look in your red blouse and your winter ensemble. Don't you want to capture this moment of charitable kindness forever?"

"No," Olivia snapped.

She turned around, grabbed the picture from his hand, looked at her lonely image, and ripped it in half.

"Harass me again and I'll have you removed from our lobby. You got it?"

The Santa watched her leave the building and picked up the torn photo. "Merry F-ing Christmas to you too…Olivia."