NOTE: Remember "Four days earlier..."? Welcome to Day Four. For those of you who are here for the casefic, get ready. No amount of Barson can stop the Pinky Pervert... Just so you know, I think updates will be biweekly now. Feel free to leave any and all feedback, I hope you enjoy!

Neither of them had expected Rafael to stay the night but then again, they also didn't expect the ease the morning brought with it. Rafael had anticipated awkwardness at best, outright embarrassment at worst but it had been good. Surprisingly good.

If they wanted to nitpick then sure, he'd woken up and cursed softly when he looked at the time but he'd also woken up to Olivia's head in the crook of his neck, her hand curled up on his chest. And yeah maybe she'd planned on catching up on the sleep she was sorely missing but how could she complain after they'd broken down laughing as he almost fell flat on his face rushing to pull up his pants? How could they complain after they'd made plans to try and get dinner that night if they could swing it, both hoping for a repeat of the night before? They just couldn't and it brought Olivia a lightness she hadn't felt in a while. She was finally rid of the weight that had been sitting in her chest for weeks and it replenished her. By the time she pulled into the precinct, she had a new determined attitude, fueled not by anger but by her intrinsic sense of justice. She was, simply put, inspired.

Unfortunately, however, this new outlook couldn't erase the consequences of her actions the day earlier and any hopes that the captain had forgotten the conversation from the night before had been crushed almost immediately. The squad had held a short briefing, confirming that while they would pursue the issue of the rental guy's records, they would concentrate first on tracking down anyone significant from their fifth vic's life. Her partner was tasked with talking to CSU about their latest crime scene and hounding Melinda for the DNA results but when Benson had made to follow Amaro, Cragen had shot her a sharp look. To her chagrin, she was subsequently left behind with Munch to deal with the tip line. She appeased her frustration by stubbornly diving into whatever she could dig up on Albert Jones between calls, hoping she would find something to support her suspicions.

Luckily, the tip line had died down considerably like they always did after the first couple of days—New York had a short attention span—so she was able to gather as much information as she could on the guy. She hadn't been able to get through much of it though; there were still enough calls to keep her busy, to throw her off track. As Olivia held the phone to her ear with her shoulder, flipping through papers, she had to watch with jealousy as Fin and Rollins left to track down their vic's roommate. She gave a small wave before they left, glancing down at her cell as the man on the other end of the call continued to drone on about nothing of use to her. No texts from Amaro. Damn. Either he was still with CSU or he was at the M.E.'s office. Either way, it looks like they were still waiting on the DNA results then. Hopefully, they'd get a hit soon; she'd give anything to chase down another lead with Amaro. At least then she'd know she was actively doing something helpful.

Olivia hung up with a sigh, absentmindedly staring down at her notes from her interview with Jones from almost a month ago now, exhausted suddenly. That rental car had been their first lead of many that all ended with dead ends. Dead end after dead end after dead end. And now their vics were dead too. Susie Cutler's body swam before her eyes. Her poor husband. His breakdown at the M.E.'s office had been heartbreaking; the poor man had looked so lost as he wandered down that hallway. He had no idea what was coming to him, to his wife. Benson shook her head, God to come home to that...

Wait a second...

She was suddenly struck with the overwhelming sense that she was missing something.

...To come home?

Olivia's eyebrows knit together in concentration, as she tried to remember what he'd said during that awful ID. When it hit her, Olivia audibly gasped and jumped into a standing position, adrenaline flooding her body.

That's what they'd missed! In the day after they'd found Susie, everyone had wondered why it took so long for Susie to be identified, thinking at first she was a loner, unmarried maybe, but no. John Cutler hadn't known his wife was dead because he was away at a conference.

And he'd used a rental car to get there.

Olivia started frantically searching through the papers on her desk, searching for her notes on her other vics while Munch stared at her with startled confusion.

"What's going on, Benson?"

Her hands were shaking, "I think, oh, but I could be wrong, but if not we could—Where are they?!"

Munch's voice was exasperated as he stood, walking over to her desk, "That gives me nothing Olivia."

"I think I found it!" Olivia set aside some papers, letting out a "Yess!" when she found the notes she was looking for. Her eyes scanned them frantically before she let out a thrilled cry.

"Liv!"

Her head shot up, looking at him with confusion, "What?"

"What did you find?!"

"The link!" she exclaimed with a wide grin, "The link between our victims!"

Olivia glanced down at her watch anxiously as she knocked on Katherine's door for the third time. Their first vic had been particularly reclusive after her attack, growing even more distant after the case became public so Benson hadn't seen her for about a week.

After her epiphany, she and Munch had feverously searched through her notes while Olivia wracked her brain for anything she could've forgotten. Between that and the several calls they'd made, they were able to determine that Susie Cutler had rented the car for her husband's business trip and their third vic's husband was currently renting one while their car was in the shop. Benson had tried to get a hold of Emily or Katherine but neither had answered. In light of her newest hunch, Cragen had relented, allowing her to follow up on her suspicions while the other detectives were still tied up with their own tasks so she found herself here, knocking on the door.

Olivia was about to knock again when the door creaked open and Katherine's head peaked out. When she saw who was there, she immediately went to close the door and Olivia threw her hands up in surrender.

"Wait please!" she implored, "I'll only be a moment, I swear!"

Katherine's eyes narrowed at Olivia's pleading face before her body sagged, her exhaustion winning as she opened the door. "Fine. Only a moment."

Benson's shoulders dropped, relief flooding her body. "Thank you, Katherine."

The woman gave her a shrug before stepping into her living room, headed towards her couch that had a pile of blankets on the end in front of a short coffee table littered with junk. It looked like Katherine had been living in her living room.

Olivia swallowed heavily before turning to face the woman who stared back with dead eyes. "How have you been?"

"Therapy's been helpful but, uh, not great." Olivia nodded as Katherine sat on the edge of her couch. "Why are you here?" she asked, her voice tired and defeated, already expecting the worst.

Benson cleared her throat, "We've been looking into some new leads," the woman's eyebrows shot up in surprise, her four-fingered hand closing reflectively, "I'm so sorry but I need you to go over the days leading up to when we found you."

There was a pregnant pause as both women stared at each other, Olivia's eyes imploring, Katherine's wary.

She sighed heavily. "Fine. If it will help."

Olivia let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding in. "Anything you have to say will be useful, I promise."

Katherine's expression didn't waver as there was silence once more. "Okay," she finally stated, her face screwed up as she braced herself. When she spoke, her voice was monotonous. "I took off work for my high school reunion." Benson was a little startled as she laughed bitterly, "To think I was so worried about it. A fucking high school reunion. After what I've been through it seems so stupid."

"I remember that," Benson said softly, her face sympathetic. "We looked into some of your old classmates."

"I remember," Katherine said stiffly, bristling at the reminder, "I got a couple of calls that week."

Benson grimaced. "I'm sorry"

"It's whatever."

"This reunion… If I remember correctly it was in New Jersey?" Olivia prompted.

"Yeah. North Jersey."

Benson nodded her eyebrows furrowed, "How did you get there?"

"I rented a car," she stated simply. Olivia's stomach dropped. "It was more convenient than taking a bus and cheaper than taking a train."

Benson had to fight to keep her voice steady and her expression neutral. "Do you remember where you rented the car?"

Katherine eyed her curiously, "No, not really. I had other things to worry about detective."

"Yes, of course," Olivia acquiesced quickly while Katherine slumped further into her couch, reaching for her blankets.

She wrapped one around herself as she spoke, "I'd just come back from the reunion that night when it happened. I still don't remember any more." She paused, her eyes closing briefly. "I don't know what's worse. Not knowing everything or remembering the little I do."

Olivia felt a wave of empathy for the woman, "We're going to get him, Katherine," she stated confidently. "I promise."

Katherine couldn't look her in the eyes. "And then what? A highly public, drawn-out trial? Wonderful." Her tone betrayed her true feelings, sarcasm dripping from her voice, "He's already destroyed me, detective. After everything, all anyone has to do is look at my h-hand," she gestured with her left hand to her right "and they'll know what that bastard did to me".

Olivia shook her head with a serious expression. "You are so much more than what he did to you."

"Mmm," she hummed noncommittally, cradling her hand to her chest, "If you say so."

"I do."

Her eyes were trained on the ground, "Is that all, detective?" she asked, her voice strained. "I'm tired."

"I—" Olivia closed her mouth, rethinking. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm sorry."

Katherine gave her a weary attempt at a smile. "I know."

Benson smiled back, "I guess I'll head out then, let you rest. You can call anytime, I promise." She started heading towards the door, turning when Katherine spoke.

"I will." She paused, staring down at her right hand, "Let me know if you find anything."

Olivia was paused in the doorway "Of course."

"Later detective."

"Until then."

As the door closed, Olivia had one thought: There was no way this was a coincidence.

Amaro was becoming more and more impatient, his leg bouncing as he waited sitting on the uncomfortable chair. He checked his watch. He'd been here for almost 2 hours. What the hell Melinda?

Speak of the devil. Dr. Warner finally stepped out from the examination room holding her clipboard like always with an unreadable expression.

"Amaro, I've got something for you."

"Oh thank god, what is it?" he asked as he jumped up from his seated position.

As she headed towards their vic's covered body Melinda spoke, "We didn't get a hit off the blood under our vic's nails—"

"What!?"

"Let me finish!" she scolded with a frown, "We didn't get a hit but there was something different with this vic. She didn't have any traces of ketamine in her system."

Nick's eyebrows shot up, "Really? Why would he change that up?"

"I don't know. Judging by the bruising to her neck, more pronounced than your other vics, she may have been choked instead."

Amaro's face was serious, his concentration evident, "Was everything else consistent with the previous vics?"

"Yes," Dr. Warner said, "I'm sorry I couldn't be more helpful detective."

"Yeah. I am too."

Albert Jones was a highly intelligent man in his eyes, a clever businessman, and a competent boss. His father had started his rental car company, but it was him who'd taken it from a small local company and transformed it into a highly profitable chain with several locations throughout New York City. If things continued the way were now, they'd likely be able to expand and branch out farther into other states and beyond. He made good money, he was in good health, and had nowhere to go but up. In a lot of ways, his life was perfect.

He only had one problem. His debilitating weakness for brunettes. More specifically his irritating fondness for breaking them.

It wasn't his fault really. These women would come into his stores when he was at his most vulnerable, tired after a long day of work, checking in on his subordinates and maintaining the careful balance of his life. They'd come in and they'd throw him off that balance.

Like Detective Benson had.

Now there was a woman. She's come in flashing her badge, asking about the very car he'd used to transfer Katherine in the night before. She'd acted as if she was unaware of the way her shirt clung to her body, unaware of how distracting it was when she'd pushed her hair back from off her face. As she'd explained how they'd managed to track his car down, he'd been as sharp as always, making a mental note to be more cautious next time, giving her a vague description as he memorized her features. He'd been incredibly lucky. Not only could he steer the cops in the wrong direction, but he now knew he had to prepare himself for the ultimate challenge. Olivia Benson.

And tonight, finally, he was ready for her.

After her conversation with Katherine, Olivia found herself at her apartment, searching for a file she'd left behind with Emily's statement. Benson had been entirely unable to get ahold of the woman and needed to go through her statements with a fine-tooth comb in the meantime.

She had no idea where the hell she could've put it. As she searched her living area again she pulled out her phone and dialed Amaro. It went straight to voicemail.

She balanced her phone on her shoulder as she spoke to free up both arms and flipped over her couch pillows, "Hey Nick, looks like I missed you. I hope this means you're finally getting some info from Melinda." She wandered into her bedroom even though it seemed unlikely the file would be there, "Anyways, I think I've found our link. For real this time. Munch and I made some calls and went through my notes and I went and talked to Katherine. I think all our vics rented a car from the same chain and maybe even from the same person." As her eyes fell on her dresser she caught sight of Rafael's cufflinks. Her face started to heat up remembering the night before. She cleared her throat. "Yeah, anyway, I'll catch you up when we're back at the precinct, I just need to grab a file from home. I'll see you later."

As she hung up, she stepped forward and fingered the cufflinks before slipping them into her pocket. She'd give them back to Rafael next time she saw him.

Shaking her head, she went back into her living room before she caught sight of the file on her chair in her dining room. How had she missed that? Olivia grabbed the file and threw on her coat, patting her pockets to make sure she had everything before she stepped into her hallway and locked her door, mind already on her next task. She glanced up at the number above the elevator. 1st floor. It would be faster to take the stairs.

Olivia leafed through the file in her hand as she stepped down the stairs with the unconscious movements of someone who'd walked them many times before. As such, she wasn't watching where she was going when his hand suddenly gripped a handful of her hair.

Olivia let out a sharp gasp of surprise and pain as her head was yanked back, her training kicking in as her elbow flew backward. Whoever had a hold of her grunted as it rammed into his stomach but he didn't waver. She barely registered how her papers went flying, utterly shocked as her body crashed into his. She let out a scream as his other arm wrapped around her, bringing a chloroformed cloth up to her mouth. At 3 in the afternoon, very few of her neighbors would be home but maybe she'd get lucky.

"SHUT up!" he hissed in her ear, letting go of her hair only grip her head in a chokehold. Her breath was cut off; Olivia's eyes bulged. Her vision was becoming spotty but she continued to kick at him, pulling at his arms. His grip on her neck lessened slightly and she reflexively gasped for air but only finding the sickly scent of chloroform. Twisting her head away, Olivia let out a whine. Her head was spinning. Her kicks were feeble now as she squeezed her eyes shut. All she could do was pray someone had heard her scream as her body finally slumped, her vision fading to black.