NOTE: I loved writing this chapter, I hope you guys enjoy reading it. As always, your feedback is much appreciated! Sorry in advance for the lil cliffhanger ;)

It wasn't often that the 1-6 had to set up a tip line but whenever they did, they were always memorable. Olivia was sure today would be no exception as she weaved her way through the bullpen dodging people left and right, phones, like the captain had predicted, ringing off the hook.

Olivia vividly remembered the last time they had a tip line. The squad had a high-profile child abduction case at the time that, while being incredibly draining, had fortunately ended well. Surprisingly, it wasn't the more chilling aspects of the case that stuck with her, but rather when she first introduced Amaro to the long-standing tradition between the older detectives crudely named "Catch the Crazy."

Whenever there was a tip line and the detectives inevitably won phone duty, they would sit there and take calls, only writing down credible leads and, as Amaro had quickly guessed, the craziest conspiracies New Yorkers could throw at the NYPD. Munch, of course, was currently in the lead, having had the craziest callers for the last 3 tip lines in a row now, but Olivia blamed that on him getting saddled with phone duty more often (and on him being a magnet for conspiracy). As tip line cases were always high stress, the game often provided the levity necessary to get through the day.

Olivia waved to Munch who was currently on a call and he gave her a smile as she made her way towards her partner. She noticed how his hair was sticking up strangely in the back and smirked, ready to tease him about it, when she immediately noticed the tension in Nick's shoulders.

"Olivia!" Amaro looked relieved to see her, "Hey, I hope you got some sleep, we still haven't gotten this guy to crack and we want you to take a swing at it."

Hitting the ground running today, huh? "Sure, where do you guys have him?"

"Interrogation 1. The captain and Barba are there to watch. Apparently, both their bosses want the creep as badly as we do."

Nick was oblivious to the light blush on her cheeks as she spoke, "Glad the DA's office is taking this seriously. What's everyone else up to?"

"Well, with you and I interrogating, that'll free Amanda and Fin to go check out the other guys on the list and as you can see," he nodded over at the sergeant, "Munch is still on phone duty."

"Of course he is," she said with a smirk, "Sorry I ducked out yesterday, did Katherine and Emily get back to you?"

"Liv, you didn't 'duck out,' you went home after 40 something hours," Nick chastised, "And to answer your question, I called Emily and Katherine last night but Katherine didn't get back to me, so we'll just interview Emily this afternoon."

"Well that's better than nothing," Olivia said, his comment about her going home causing her to notice the bags under Nick's eyes. She vaguely wondered why it seemed like there was never a time when they both were fully functioning. "By the way, Nick, how long have you been at it, you look exhausted."

"Liv, I'm fine," he snapped, "I got my 10 in the cribs don't worry." Ah, so that explains the hair.

"Alright, I trust you, just looking out for my partner," she said, hands up in surrender. Nick's irritation faded and he smiled gratefully at her. She elbowed him gently in the ribs before speaking, "How do we wanna play this? For the interrogation?"

"Well," Nick said with a bit of a grin, "If he's our guy, you'd be exactly his type."

"True, true," she said smirking. "I guess you know the drill then."

"Perfect."

Cragen, Fin, Rollins, and Barba were all standing outside of the interrogation room watching through the glass when the two partners walked up.

Everyone else seemed oblivious to the way Benson and Barba were avidly avoiding each other's eyes as the captain spoke.

"Ah, good, Liv, you're here," the captain said, waving a hand towards the window. "Meet Jack Whitaker."

Fin handed her a file and she flipped through it while he talked. "This guy's a real piece of work," he stated, looking through the glass distastefully. "He bolted when Rollins and I came asking questions and hasn't said a word since. Annoying but at least he hasn't asked for a lawyer yet," he added and Olivia smirked.

Rollins jumped in, continuing Fin's overview of the guy. "Whitaker served 5 years up at Attika for third-degree rape and menacing when he copped a plea for the rape of his next-door neighbor, Julie Crawford. He was let loose for good behavior 7 years ago and according to his P.O., he's supposedly been a law-abiding citizen since his release," she said with skepticism.

Fin scoffed before speaking, "Doubt it. His M.O. has some similarities to our perp, but obviously," he shot a look at Barba, "it's not close enough for a warrant."

Olivia read off the file, "It says here Whitaker pushed his way into Crawford's apartment one night, beat her unconscious, and raped her before he dislocated her pinky and ring finger when she woke up during the attack because she was," her face twisted, "'crying too much.'" She paused, looking thoughtful. "Well, that's definitely similar but are we sure this is the guy?" She flipped back a page or two, double-checking the file, "Whitaker never finished high school and has only ever worked at various diners and low-end restaurants. Not exactly a genius, by any standards."

"I don't know Liv, but like Fin said, when we came asking questions, he bolted." She looked at Cragen, "Hey cap, are Fin and I good? We still got 3 other guys to check out."

"Yeah get out of here."

As the two detectives headed off, Benson turned to Barba whose eyes flicked up and down her body so quickly she almost missed it. She ignored the way her heart rate quickened and prayed she wasn't blushing as she spoke, "What do you need from him?"

Barba smirked, "Well, an admission of guilt would be nice. But I'll settle for anything that could implicate the man of any current wrongdoing. Current," he emphasized. "I have a feeling judges are going to be a bit more lenient with this case but they've got to have something to work with."

"Alright, sounds good, let's do this," Amaro said a bit impatiently but with determination. Benson turned to her partner who opened the door for her with a grin. She gave him a smirk back and stepped into the room. Sometimes she forgot how much she loved a good interrogation.

Olivia schooled her expression as she entered the room, creating an uninterested air of boredom as she flipped through Whitaker's file with exaggerated movements, walking towards the man cuffed to the table. "So, Mr. Whitaker, is it?"

"Or do you prefer Jack?" Nick cut in.

The two detectives stared the man down and he shrugged, his eyes trained on the floor.

"Jack then," Olivia said, "Someone's got quite the rap sheet, huh?"

Nick turned a chair around and sat down on it backwards directly across from Jack while Olivia opted to circle behind him.

"What was it again?" Nick asked Benson. "Something about menacing?"

"And third-degree rape," Olivia said making sure to pop the p. "Can't forget that, can you Jack?"

Jack's hand twitched and his brow furrowed as he continued to glare at the floor. Good. Making some progress.

Olivia leaned against the windowsill on the wall behind him while Nick changed tactics. "You've been here a while now, do you want anything? A drink, a snack?"

"No." The small word was the first word he'd spoken since he was brought in and Olivia smiled.

"Suit yourself," she said, her voice dripping with disdain and he moved suddenly, twisting around to glare at her. She looked at him in amusement as they locked eyes until he broke the connection, turning back around to glare at the tabletop.

Nick's eyes flicked up to Olivia and they communicated silently as only the best partners could. This guy was volatile and really didn't like her. Time for a new angle.

"What do you do for a living, Jack?" Amaro asked with mild interest.

He answered tersely, "I work at a restaurant."

"You got a girlfriend?" Benson asked, knowing it would rile the guy.

Jack cracked, and swiveled around again with a furious snarl, "What is this, some good-cop, bad-cop routine?! What the fuck do you people want from me?"

"You get angry a lot, don't you Jack," Benson continued as if he'd said nothing, watching his head follow her movements as she went to lean against the wall to the right of him.

"See, I get that Jack," Nick said with a friendly sympathetic tone. "I get mad too, you know? It all get's pent up, doesn't it, until it just bursts out?"

"Is that what happened with Julie? Did it all just... burst out?" Olivia asked, moving to sit against the desk. Jack pushed back away from Benson and she looked over to Amaro with a half-grin.

"We're not here to talk about Julie!" Jack said, agitated.

"Aren't we though?" Amaro asked. "You dislocated her fingers, Jack, you beat her face… said you didn't like it when she woke up. Is that why you switched to drugging them?"

Jack's eyes widened in alarm, anger gone as his head whipping between the two detectives. "Them?! Who's them? What are you talking about?" The detectives said nothing as recognition dawned and his face twisted with disgust, "Oh my god, this is about that Pinky guy isn't it? I never killed anyone! Or cut off their fucking pinkies!"

Olivia and Nick exchanged a quick glance that spoke volumes. Their guts were screaming now; this wasn't their guy. Fucking hell. They still had to rule him out though, had to see if they could get out why he ran.

Benson dropped her voice to a whisper, leaning forwards a bit, "Then why'd you run, Jack? Guilty conscious?"

Jack looked freaked out. "If I tell you if I can prove I'm not the, uh, Pinky guy, will you let me go?"

Well, that was easy. "What do you have to show?" Amaro asked.

"If I can get my phone back, I have… photos." This should be interesting.

"Photos? What kind of photos Jack?" Olivia questioned.

A stubborn look came over his features. "I'm not talking until I get my phone," he said, his jaw set and eyes hard.

The detectives looked at each other. They weren't going to get anything else out of him. "We'll see what we can do." Amaro climbed off the chair and Benson pushed off the desk before exiting the room, leaving behind Jack who was once again silent.

The second the door closed, Nick spit out a string of Spanish expletives that had Barba raising his eyebrows and the Captain frowning deeply, maybe unaware of the meaning but understanding the gist of his outburst.

"Sorry, sorry, I just… thought we might have had him," Nick apologized.

"Clearly you didn't," Barba said, causing the already agitated detective to bristle. "But he's obviously hiding something. Hopefully, the photos are probative of something illegal but if not we've got to move on."

"Yes, thank you Barba for your wise words," Nick spat out before Benson silenced him with a hand on his arm.

The captain eyed him with concern. "Amaro, either join Munch and man the phones or take 5. You need a breather before Emily comes in."

Nick just looked at the captain with defeat before turning and heading down the hall, ignoring Olivia who tried to catch his eye.

"He'll be…" Olivia trailed off.

"I know," Cragen said.

Barba cleared his throat awkwardly which seemed to spur Cragen into movement. "I'll need to update 1PP," he said with a scowl, "I'll have someone look at the guy's phone, can I have you running any leads we get from the tip line until Emily shows?" he asked Benson.

"Yeah Cap, I got it."

"Thanks, Liv," he turned to Barba who was currently glaring at Jack through the window, "I trust you'll be close?"

"Yes, my bosses want the bastard as much as you do. As much as I do," he added. "The DA's office is prepared to help in any way they can."

"Good," the captain said, "Well, I'll leave you to it then." He turned and walked down the hallway, leaving Barba and Benson alone to enjoy the rapidly growing tension between the two as they both recalled the night previous.

Olivia was the first to speak, "I didn't think I'd get to see you before tonight."

Barba couldn't stop himself. "Clearly or you wouldn't have worn those pants."

"Oh?" Olivia's eyebrow rose and her face felt warm as she grinned at Barba, who looked a little shocked by his own boldness. "And why wouldn't I have worn these pants?"

His apologies for his forwardness died in his mouth and he gave her a little half-smile that grew into the smug smirk she was used to as his eyes ran down the length of her body. "Why, detective, I'm sure you can guess what they do to me, and as consummate professionals, we both know these kinds of thoughts are not exactly appropriate for the workplace."

His words should have dissuaded her, reminded her of their very public setting at her place of work no less, but instead, Olivia felt braver as she stepped forward into his personal space.

"Barba, I'm shocked. Surely you're not trying to tell me what to wear now are you?"

"If I was, Olivia, you'd know."

Olivia's breath hitched and she felt a hot rush of reckless desire flow through her body. She could smell his cologne and fought the urge to lean forward and grab him by those stupid suspenders.

Their eyes locked, both a little surprised to find the other's filled with lust. As Olivia's eyes slowly wandered to his lips, Barba's traitorous cock throbbed and he reluctantly tore his eyes from her face and shifted, looking to see if there was anyone watching. Seeing no one, he turned to her, his voice a low growl. "Do you know where—?"

"Follow me."

She turned down the hallway and lead him back towards the bullpen. Rafael scrambled to follow, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible as he followed her through the chaos of ringing phones and unis. Nick was on a call with his back to them, thank god and they both nodded at a confused Munch who looked at Rafael with one eyebrow raised. He shrugged at the sergeant, hoping that would suffice as he pushed past. Olivia waited for him to catch up by the elevator pulling out her phone to send a quick text to Amaro letting him know she had to step out for a sec.

Barba kept his voice low as he stood next to her, "Where the hell are we going, Benson?"

She gave him a wolfish grin, "The roof, counselor."

The elevator doors opened with a ding and they waited as a couple of officers stepped out, nodding their heads in greeting to Benson who nodded back. As they entered the lift, Olivia wound up standing as far away from him as she could. When he looked at her quizzically, she blushed a little. "Wouldn't want to tempt fate," she said a little sheepishly.

He waited for the door to close and they were alone before speaking, a wide grin on his face, "You want to jump me don't you, Benson?"

She glared at him, hating how hot her cheeks were. "Shut up, Barba."

"Make me."

"Trust me, Rafael I will."

He groaned just as the doors opened and they got off on the top floor before Olivia stalked down a hallway, leaving Barba to have to catch up. She turned to face him, opening a door with a sign stating, ALARM DOOR DO NOT OPEN. He quirked his eyebrow at her and she rolled her eyes, "Civilians," she complained. "Get over here, it's not actually alarmed."

That was all he needed to hear. She backed through the doorway their eyes locked as he followed. When he went to touch her, she dodged. "Not yet."

Barba let out a growl as she turned around and started heading up the small set of stairs leading to what had better be the last door. "I can feel you watching me," she said, looking over her shoulder, laughing a little as she caught him checking out her ass.

"Guilty as charged. You have a phenomenal ass, Benson."

Olivia pushed through the door onto the roof, the wind causing her hair to splay out, some of it wrapping around her neck, getting in her eyes. She positively growled as he closed the door behind him. "Don't! Call me Benson."

He reached forward and grabbed her by the waist causing her to gasp a little before she let him pivot her around. He backed her up against the brick wall next to the door with an intense look that caused her to bite her lip to hold back a moan. He dropped his hands from her waist only to brush the hair back from her face. The only thing connecting them was his hand holding her hair back. "Why not?" he asked, his voice rough.

"I—"

Rafael cut her off as he finally pressed the length of his body up against hers and she let out a surprised moan, relishing in the feeling of his hard cock against her hip.

His one hand fisted her hair, the other rested on her waist. She wrapped her arms around him, one hand coming up to cup his face, the other grabbing at his suit jacket. As their lips finally met, she let out a little whimper that was lost to the roar of the wind. Her body melted into his as his tongue dominated hers, his leg pushing between hers. She groaned against his lips. At the sound, he pulled back suddenly leaving her wanting, knees weak, and he admired the flush of her cheeks and the way her lips were swollen, parted slightly.

Their eyes locked, inches apart and the mood shifted as his expression grew soft. When he kissed her this time, it was gentle and sweet as he brought both his hands up to cup her face, holding her there like she was precious. She scratched her nails down his back and it was his turn to groan causing her to smile against his lips. He dropped one hand to grab hers and they laced their fingers together, reveling in the intimacy of the moment just as her phone went off. He pulled back as if electrocuted and she shivered at the sudden loss of his body heat as the wind whipped her hair around.

She looked down to see Amaro's name lighting up her phone and sighed. Olivia let it ring as she walked forward to Barba.

"This," she pointed at him, "is far from over."

Rafael let the tension in his shoulders fall, relieved by her words as she answered her cell.

"Amaro, what's up?"

Amaro's voice was calm and professional as he tried to get the woman off the phone and keep his frustration under wraps.

"Mhmm, thank you, ma'am, the NYPD will be sure to look into that… Uh, huh… Yes, I'll be sure to let them know, thank you."

Amaro finally hung up and leaned backward in his chair, rubbing at his temples. This was only his third call and he was already getting a headache. He let out a breath through his nose before looking down at his notepad to reread the one note he had. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards. Only three calls and he already had a good chance of winning "Catch the Crazy" this time. He grimaced. We really need a different name for that.

The second call he'd gotten was from a woman claiming that the FBI were kidnapping these women and implanting chips in their pinkies which is why they had to cut them off so they wouldn't find out the truth. When he'd asked what exactly "the truth" was, the woman had gotten paranoid and called him a government drone before hanging up.

Munch swiveled in his chair towards Nick. "You got anything?"

"Nothing useful," he said with regret, "But trust me," he smirked, "I'm breaking your winning streak today, Old Man," Nick joked.

"Sure kid, keep dreaming."

Nick grinned at him before the phone in front of him rang again. He turned back around and picked it up, keeping his notepad and a pen close by.

Before he could say the usual greeting, the man on the line spoke, his voice trembling. "My wife. I think… I think my wife's dead!"

Nick immediately leaned forward and grabbed his pen, his eyebrows knit together, "Excuse me, sir, who is this speaking?"

"John Cutler, please, you have to help me, I think—" he let out a strangled sob, "I think my wife is J-Jane Doe."