"Benson, I swear to god. You cannot go into that interrogation room just to yell at the unsub." SSA Emily Prentiss of the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit scolded Detective Olivia Benson of the NYPD's Special Victims Unit. Her dark, curled hair was settled on her shoulders, grazing the bare skin of her arm that was exposed from her red tank top.
"Listen, all of your psychology mumbo-jumbo works fine for you, I'm sure. But here in the city, we do things differently and it gets the job done." Olivia's chest was heaving, her golden brown hair hanging delicately around her collarbones and sticking a bit to her forehead where the sweat had accumulated in the heat of the city's latest power outage.
Just moments ago, Emily had all but ran into the interrogation room and pulled Olivia out by the back of her shirt, hissing in her ear, "That's enough," as her spindly fingers dug into the flesh of the detective's tanned bicep.
"Mumbo-jumbo or not, that unsub will shut down completely if you back him into a corner. He's a typical sexual sadist who thrives on inflicting pain on others. We have profiled him as having intense neglect issues from years of psychological abuse at the hands of a mother figure. You running into that interrogation room and yelling at him will only serve to push him back into a state of silence and dissociation that he learned to employ in order to survive in his household. That is why he keeps the women drugged as he assaults and murders them– he needs them to be as powerless as he felt growing up as he takes out his unresolved anger at his mother."
Emily was pacing the floor and wringing her hands together as she watched the unsub sit completely still, almost as if he were a statue. His breathing was calm and deep, his eyes shut and lips minutely shaping themselves into what Emily could only assume was a sequence of numbers– a tactic often used by anxiety patients to ground themselves in a moment of panic. She could feel more than see Olivia sidle up next to her, watching intently as the man continued to silently count.
"Okay, so then what do we need to do?" Olivia's voice was still rough, remnants of her overenthusiastic yelling when the unsub got a little too cocky. Out of the corner of her eye, Emily saw as a bead of sweat dropped from Olivia's jaw onto her chest, running down into her cleavage tantalizingly. She quickly shook her head and pushed that thought away, she was here for a job and not to be swooning over the sexy detective she had been paired with for the case.
"Here's what I am thinking. He seems to have an intense hatred for women, particularly early-middle-aged women like us. I've got to believe that when his mother was around our age she began the abuse or in some way the abuse worsened and that is why he is targeting women in this age bracket and not his mother's current age bracket. If we go in there and play upon the fact that we are women, we might get him to break."
Olivia quickly interjected, "Okay, so like rubbing it in his face that we are powerful, strong women who he cannot tame? Women who don't need men?"
Emily nodded her head, "Yes, something along those lines. What we need to do is both demonstrate that we are more powerful than his mother ever was while also tantalizing him in the process. I know that appealing to his own sexuality will not work, his hatred for women is too strong. If it comes down to it, we could also start flirting with each other and make him feel like we are outcasting him, remind him of how worthless he felt without antagonizing him, we most likely can get him to brag about his accomplishments and even where he is hiding the last girl."
Olivia's face flushed at the thought of flirting with the agent, even if it was for interrogation purposes. Both women steeled themselves, shared a look, and entered the interrogation room.
"Hi, Jeremy, how are you doing today?" Emily started sweetly, smiling at the unsub and sitting down in the seat furthest from the door. Olivia loomed next to the closed door, hesitant until Jeremy looked at Emily.
"Olivia, why don't you come sit down and apologize to Jeremy here? I know you didn't mean to be so harsh with him earlier."
Olivia took that as her cue to sit, carefully pulling her chair back and sitting with her elbows on the table, hands clasped in front of her face. "I'm sorry. Jeremy, I shouldn't have gotten so angry with you. I truly should have known better, I'm so much more intelligent than needing to berate you like that."
This perked Jeremy's gaze from Emily to Olivia, his eyes carefully scrutinizing her, looking for signals of deceit. Content with what he saw, he leaned back in his chair but didn't relax his jaw or shoulders.
"Do you want to hit the weight room after this, Emily? I want to try for a PR on the deadlift, I've nearly gotten Elliot's record beat." Olivia smirked at Emily and the raven-haired woman stretched a pale arm out to grab at Olivia's bicep.
"Are you sure you need to go workout again today? You nearly knocked Derek unconscious sparring with him earlier." Emily's voice conveyed awe but also a hint of flirtation, leaving that playing field open should they need to use it."
Without breaking each other's gaze, Olivia chuckled. "That's only because he's a man and he could never measure up to the strength of a woman. He's a little crybaby and it's important to me that everyone knows it."
Jeremy sat forward once more, seething at the women talking so arrogantly about their abilities and so unfavorably about the men in their lives. "You girls have no clue what you're talking about."
Emily snorted at Jeremy's response and finally looked at him, "What, Jeremy? Do you not believe that either of us could kick your ass any day?"
The greasy man sat back with a huff, crossing his arms across his chest as best he could chained to the belt at his waist. "No, I don't. You're just a couple of bitches who think they are better than men. Newsflash, there is nothing either of you could ever do to measure up to a man and you both know that you cannot live without men."
"Oh, can we not?" Olivia's questioned with mirth. "I think Agent Prentiss and I are both intimately familiar with just how unnecessary men are."
A tanned hand reached to wrap around a porcelain one on the tabletop, Jeremy unable to look away from the display of affection. Emily shifted closer in her chair to put her head on Olivia's shoulder, looking up through her lashes at the older woman.
"You are everything I could ever need, baby. Especially considering just how useless men are, especially this one." Two sets of dark eyes flicked to the unsub who seemed to be seething with rage.
"You bitches don't know anything!" The man began to shout. "I wasn't useless when I was dragging those poor excuses for women back to my apartment, huh? I wasn't useless when I fucked them so hard that they bled all over the carpet, huh? No, I was the man and I gave those filthy girls exactly what they deserved. Maybe women should think again before they treat men like the dirt beneath their shoes!"
Red in the face, the man's chest was heaving as he finished his tirade. Both Emily and Olivia traded smirks as they continued on with their performance.
"Oh, you're the man, alright, Jeremy. I'm sure all the guys in Sing-Sing will get a kick out of you."
With an outstretched hand, Olivia helped Emily to her feet, resting a hand on the small of the pale woman's back and shooting a wink over her shoulder at the seething man.
Outside the interrogation room, all of the other agents and Elliot seemed to be staring at the two women who were completely oblivious to the world around them.
"Elliot, I'm gonna go grab a shower to cool off." Olivia barely let her gaze leave Emily's as she left for the crib. The pale agent could feel Olivia undressing her with her eyes and felt heat flush her cheeks and leak down into her underwear.
Almost as if she hadn't realized that everyone was standing right there, Emily followed Olivia out into the bullpen and up the stairs to the crib. Faint sounds of growls and giggles could be heard before the door slammed shut.
"I don't even want to know what those ladies are about to get up to in there," Elliot said, shaking his head.
"Yeah, same. I'm not sure I would ever recover," Derek offered back.
"Recover from what?" Spencer added, confused.
"Oh, Pretty Boy, let's just not go try to find Emily for a while, okay?"
A snicker could be heard crackling over the cellphone in Derek's hand. "Has our sweet Emily finally succumbed to the charms of Butchy McFabulous over there?"
The group cackled as Derek responded, "Oh, baby girl, you don't even know the half of it."
"I wonder who's the top and who–"
"Penelope, enough." JJ chided, not willing to (pretend to) speculate on what exactly Emily got up to in the bedroom.
With that, the group dispersed and did everything they could to not think about the sinful activity happening just above their heads.
Olivia and Emily, however, certainly would never forget their hot, sweaty day in the 1-6.