NOTE: Turns out when you get multiple reviews telling you to get the next chapter out quick, you actually get motivated to get the next chapter out quick! And during my hell week of tests too! Anyways, thank you guys. I apologize for the way I ended this (no I don't). Let me know what you think! Enjoy...

"Here's what we know so far."

Amaro had the squad's undivided attention as he pulled up stills from the security cam videos. As his eyes swept over his coworkers, he saw his stress mirrored in their faces. Despite the sense that he wasn't alone, the sight was far from comforting.

"At 3:07 pm today Olivia was blitz attacked in the stairwell of her apartment building. We have the entire confrontation on surveillance video. The perp wore a mask, grabbed her from behind, and very likely used chloroform to s-subdue her." Nick's voice cracked a little. He cleared his throat.

The worry lines on Fin's forehead deepened as Amanda's fists clenched.

Munch stepped forward to continue, "He dragged her to a car waiting in an alley accessible to the ground floor. We have CSU combing both the alley and the stairwell for anything useful but it looks doubtful as of now."

"Did we get a license plate?" The captain's eyes were determined. If Amaro didn't know him so well, he'd never catch the tension in his shoulders that betrayed his real feelings.

"Not on the security cams, but we've pulled every street cam in a 5 block radius. We'll get it."

Fin's voice held a hint of desperation, "Do we have anything on this guy?"

Munch gave him a weird half nod that screamed 'maybe?' "We've got nothing concrete but I think Olivia was onto something with this latest hunch."

Amaro nodded vehemently. "I agree. She got too close so he took her. Hell, if she's right, this guy could've been onto her since she first interviewed him about that rental car."

The captain looked especially contemplative. "Explain."

"Every one of our vics is connected to the same rental car company which leaves us with a small pool of suspects. Of these suspects, the only one who had significant contact with Liv was—" he grabbed a photo off his desk and tacked it out the corkboard with the map from earlier—"Albert Jones who has not answered any of our calls."

Cragen absorbed the information quickly before giving a sharp nod. He turned to Amanda and Fin, "Okay, Fin, Rollins, one of you go through the street cams, the other, go through the security cam videos with fresh eyes. I want that license plate yesterday."

The two detectives nodded before he turned to Amaro and Munch.

"Munch I need you to pull anything we can get on this Albert Jones—"

"Olivia already started that."

The captain bristled at the reminder, "Then finish it! We're going to need to contact Barba and get warrants for Jones' financials and to search his home. Amaro, I want you on that. Call Barba, get the warrant, and then take Fin and Rollins to check Jones's home."

"Yessir."

As the captain dismissed them, and the detectives scattered, Amaro's stomach sank. He'd forgotten about Barba… How the hell was he going to take this?

In the chaos surrounding the discovery of their fifth victim, Rafael had all but forgotten about how he'd promised to tell Carmen about his date with Olivia. After seeing the look on her face though… He should've known she wouldn't forget.

"I've got work to do Carmen, can't this wait?" he complained feebly, leaning back in his chair with exaggerated exhaustion.

She shook her head, grinning mischievously, "Nope. You forget I know your schedule Rafael," she joked, "Now spill."

Sighing heavily, he leaned forward in his chair letting his elbows rest on his desk. He shot her his most withering glare to no avail. God, she was infuriating. "Fine. It went well."

Carmen rolled her eyes at him, "I believe the promise was 'I won't leave anything out,' Mr. Barba."

"Actually," he pointed at her with a little smirk, "I believe the exact wording was 'I won't leave anything important out.' But I'll let it slide this time. It went well enough that we have a date planned for tonight."

She looked thrilled, clapping her hands together with excitement, "I told you it would go well! Did she like the bar? She did, didn't she, I told you it was a good date spot!"

Rafael's eyebrows shot up at her enthusiasm, sensing more questions were sure to come. He braced himself before sighing in relief when his cell went off.

"You don't have to look so relieved you know," Carmen whispered, frowning as he eagerly answered the call, mouthing an unconvincing I'm sorry! to his exasperated assistant.

"Barba speaking." The greeting was met with silence and he pulled the phone back to check the caller ID, confused. It had said Amaro, hadn't it? "Amaro? Are you there?"

"Yeah."

Barba frowned. The man's voice was unnaturally somber and subdued… Something was off. "What's the matter? Is there another vic?"

At the sudden seriousness of his voice, Carmen stood and motioned that she'd be stepping out to give him some privacy. Barba nodded at her distractedly as Amaro answered.

"No. No, it's not that," he paused. "It's Liv."

His confusion only grew as anxiety crept in. "¿Qué pasa, es que ella está bien?" What happened, is she okay?

"No. She's been taken."

Rafael's stomach dropped. The heavy silence as he tried to process the news was stifling; his ears were ringing. When he finally spoke, his voice was carefully calm, "Taken," he said, the question in his voice obvious, "How could that happen? I was under the impression she would be at the precinct all day."

Amaro sounded surprised, "How did you know—?" His voice cut off quickly as he caught on to the implications there, "No importa. Never mind. She may have cracked our case and was following up with our first vic when she stopped by her apartment to get a file. That's when he grabbed her."

Barba had a death-grip on his phone. "Who Amaro? Who?"

He evaded the question, "We have video but the guy was wearing a mask. He blitz attacked her and used chloroform. Now we don't know for sure—"

The pieces finally clicked together. Shit. "But you think it's the fucking Pinky Pervert." Barba spat out the nickname as if it were poison; it tasted like it. He'd had heard enough. "I'm coming over to the precinct. Now." Quickly switching to speakerphone, he started haphazardly gathering his papers, making a mental list of what he needed to grab as Amaro spoke, his chest growing uncomfortably tight. Are my hands shaking?

"Good. We're going to need warrants."

Barba's movements stilled, the sentence immediately distracting from the weight that seemed to have settled on his chest, "You have a suspect?!"

"Yes. I'll fill you in when you get here."

"Fine. I'll be there in 15." He paused. "Amaro." His voice was deadly serious.

"What?"

"Don't fuck this up."

Nick said nothing as he hung up.

Maybe it was the small click as he did so or perhaps the ringing silence afterward, but all of a sudden Rafael just—he just couldn't breathe—?

He shook his head. No. Deep breaths Rafael. Pull yourself together. Get your things.

As he pulled on his coat, his eyes landed on the file Olivia had given him four days ago. A photo was sticking out. He started to sweat.

Barba flipped through the file quickly as they headed towards the courthouse, Benson giving him the latest details on this "Pinky Pervert" succinctly but with clear revulsion, "Each victim was found naked, beaten, missing a pinky"—He tore his eyes from her face, distracted by a flash of color; the jarring nature of the dark red on pale skin grabbed his attention—"We don't know where he's taking them"—his stomach rolled as he realized what he was staring at… A bloody finger socket—"they were drugged, Barba, brutally raped. The torture he put these women through…"

The torture she would go through.

His eyes squeezed shut as his knees buckled, his hands instinctually grabbing the edge of his desk at the last moment, catching himself before he collapsed into his chair. God no. Liv… They had to be wrong.

He was staring up at the precinct screens watching Olivia's face out of the corner of his eye. Her voice was hard as was her expression—"The vic was posed this time, left along a fairly sheltered part of a popular jogging path, and"—her voice grew ice-cold—"had 'Me: 5, NYPD:0' written on the top of her forearms"—He expected the fury her voice betrayed when their eyes met but all he could see was pain. Why? He wanted to help her. She looked away.

He couldn't help her.

He couldn't do it. The ringing in his ears was overwhelmingly loud, his heart was pounding in his aching chest, his hands were numb. Was he choking?

Breathe Rafael!

The warm taste of old pennies startled him; he had bitten the side of his cheek. As he ran his tongue along the ragged skin, he gasped, finally sucking in a rattled breath. The next breath was easier. Just breathe.

When he finally peeled himself up from the chair, Barba was drenched with sweat but steady. As he shoved the file into his briefcase, he wiped at the wetness on his cheeks. No doubt he looked like hell, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He had a job to do.

He would do whatever it took to get her home.

"Liv come on!"

The sunset was brilliant. Olivia didn't want to go yet.

"What are you doing? We have to go."

She sighed heavily. It was so peaceful here. She turned to Nick pouting. "Do we have to?"

"Well, we can't stay here."

She nodded in agreement. "That's true." She missed the sound of the city anyways. "Just give me a sec."

The field was vast and flat. There were no buildings to block her view of the sky; there was nothing to block the magnificent sunset that bathed everything in a soft orange glow. The grass grew long and wild and was dancing in the breeze. She closed her eyes and let the wind play with her hair before reluctantly turning to follow Nick. She frowned. Where did he go?

"Nick?" She turned back around but he'd disappeared.

She felt a raindrop on her cheek and looked up to the sky. The clouds were dark but not dark enough to be worried. As she looked back down, Olivia vaguely realized that the wind was whipping her hair around her face now but the grass was still. Odd.

"Hey, Liv." Her head shot up and her face broke into a smile at his voice. Rafael!

"Rafael? What are you doing here? Have you seen Amaro?"

He shrugged, giving her that wide grin of his that always disarmed her. "Nope."

"That's not very helpful, Rafael," she teased.

He rolled his eyes at her. "Ah, well, let's not worry about Amaro right now," he approached her, eyes dark with desire. It was sprinkling now.

Olivia melted into his embrace without a second thought, sighing as their lips met. As he backed her up against a tree, she gripped his suspenders. His hand tangled in her hair as he peppered kisses down her throat causing her to let out a little moan of pleasure. "Rafa…"

The sudden loss of heat as he pulled away from her caught her off guard and she cocked her head to the side. "What's the matter?"

Rafael pointed over her shoulder.

Olivia turned. What was he talking about? There were just trees.

The rain was steady now as she turned back to ask him. "What did you see?"

She pushed the wet hair from her face. Where did he go?

There was a crack of thunder. "Shit." She needed help. Olivia opened her mouth to call out to Rafael, Nick, anyone. Her voice came out as a small squeak. God her throat hurt. Why couldn't she talk?

"Help." It was a pathetic little whisper. "Please."

Her eyes scanned the forest desperately and her heart leaped at the sight of a blurred figure to her right. As it walked closer, her throat started to close up and her excitement quickly faded. She knew. If it got her, she'd die.

She started running through the trees, heart racing before she tripped over a root, falling onto the mulchy forest floor. Her throat was burning, she couldn't breathe. She started twisting, writhing. She had to get up! She had to!

"Stop moving."

No, it couldn't be! She'd run so far.

"I said STOP!"

Olivia woke with a sharp cry as his hand connected with her face and pain exploded, radiating out from just below her eye. Gasping, she blinked away tears, opening and closing her jaw to alleviate the pain. Her body froze from shock.

"That's better."

As her vision swam into focus, Olivia vaguely registered her newly seated position, but before she could do anything, Jones took advantage of her stunned state. She barely had time to realize she had one hand free before he grabbed her wrist, forcefully taping it down to what appeared to be the arm of a wooden chair. Olivia shook her head rapidly trying to clear the fog that clouded her mind as she reflexively tugged against the tape on her arms and legs much to Jones's annoyance. Her breath caught in her throat when he shoved the gun under her chin. "Don't even think about it."

She stopped struggling. As he pulled the gun away, she stayed still, the fear having cleared her mind some. All she could see was Jones crouching in front of her with a roll of duct tape in one hand, her gun in the other. His lips were twisted with mocking self-satisfaction at her compliance when he finally stood, relishing the way Olivia's widened eyes darted around the room, taking in as much as she could. She didn't like what she saw.

The musty smell of decay matched the crumbling brick walls and cobwebs lit by a singular fluorescent lightbulb hanging from the wooden rafters. The bright light cast shadows the floor, a slab of gray concrete that hadn't been cleaned in what looked like years. Besides the dead leaves littering the ground, there was also a small wooden table with a couple of paper bags and—Olivia swallowed heavily at the sight—a stained mattress. The only exit she could see other than an old, tiny window was the closed door behind him. As far as she could tell, he had her cornered. Literally. Unless she was mistaken, the chair he had her tied to was in the cramped corner of the small shack. This wasn't good.

Albert watched her examine the room with fascination, "Do you like it detective?" he asked suggestively.

Olivia's temper flared. When she spoke her voice was gravely and sore from when he'd choked her out. She looked him up and down. "I've seen better."

Fury twisted his features as he pressed the barrel of the gun to her forehead hard enough to bruise. Olivia didn't flinch. As the two glared each other down, her defiance grating on his nerves, recognition dawned and he started to laugh, dropping the gun to his side.

"I know what you're doing! I think you want me to kill you," he cocked his head to the side, "Hmm? Why is that Olivia?" His voice dropped to a whisper, "Let me guess… Was it what Katherine told you? Or was it Emily's story? Huh? Was that it?" His face searched hers; Olivia maintained her stony stare, not giving him an inch. "No, not that. Well, it can't be lovely Ms. Sophia's story, she's still in a coma last I checked. Isn't that right, Detective?"

Olivia's eyes flashed as they met his, "Shut. Up."

There we go. He was loving this. "Looks like I hit a nerve! I'm guessing you weren't happy about poor Ms. Susie then. Poor girl, I really didn't mean to kill her but I just got carried away, you know how it is. Or at least you will."

Albert knelt down before her as she avoided his gaze. Any attempt to pull away from him was thwarted as he grasped her chin, forcing her to stare up at him.

Before he could speak, she did. "Can I ask you something?"

Surprise crossed his face followed by curiosity. He let go of her face and nodded, flicking his hand out as if to say go on.

"What's with the pinkies?"

A chill ran down her spine at the way the smile slowly spread across his face, "I'm glad you asked," he drawled, "You see, Detective, these women all promised me one thing or another. Like how you promised you wouldn't break," he stopped to point at her with something akin to respect in his gaze, "See, I like that. That's a nice change of pace. Now the others," he shook his head, "The others promised they wouldn't run… But they did. They always do." He paused, cocking his head at her. His eyes ran down the length of her body. "I wonder if you… Hmm… Yes."

She hid her discomfort, "What?" she spat out aggressively.

He continued as if she'd said nothing, "Those women ran. Those women broke their promises, Olivia, and I can't have that." His face darkened, "I've always hated that."

Her eyes followed him as he walked over towards the table to her right. His back was to her as he pulled something out of the bag. His body hid whatever it was. She started to sweat.

Albert whirled around to face her, keeping his hands behind his back. "Do you remember when you were a little girl detective? Did you make pinky promises? I bet you did."

Before Olivia could stop herself she let out a derisive bark of laughter. "You're joking."

Jones looked shocked. "Did you just—?"

"Yeah, I laughed at you."

He looked utterly flabbergasted at her brazenness.

Please work. Olivia gave him a mocking smirk, praying this would throw him off rather than set him off. "What is it, Jones? If the girl breaks her promise, you break her finger? Rip it off if she pisses you off enough?"

She let out another laugh, hoping he missed the edge of hysteria she could feel as her heart pounded. Come on, do something stupid. Rip off my tape. The vein in his neck was throbbing. God, this was risky. But she had to try.

"What happened Al, did Mommy break her promise to you when you were little? I bet she did. She screwed you and now you screw her and rip pinkies off women."

"DON'T bring my mother into this!" he roared, slamming his hands down on the table. Olivia's heart was in her throat as he left the gun and whatever he'd grabbed there and stalked towards her. He yanked her head back by the hair painfully as she gasped, tears springing up.

His voice was harsh in her ear as he emphasized his words by jerking her head farther and farther back, "You. Will die here. I will rape you. You will beg for death. I will kill you."

A tear ran down her cheek as an involuntary whimper of fear pushed past her defenses; he grinned. "Yes. You should be scared."

He roughly let go of her and she doubled over panting. When she looked up again, he was there staring her down.

"I have something of yours. Well, not yours, I'm guessing."

She could barely whisper, "W-What are you—" she let out a ragged cough, "What are you talking about?"

In response, he pulled his hand out from behind his back and opened it. Laying there on his palm were Rafael's cufflinks.

Olivia could only stare incomprehensively at the metal. No. Her heart clenched painfully. She felt like he'd punched her in the gut and it hurt more than anything he'd done so far. Oh, god, Rafael… I'm so sorry.

Albert watched with delighted fascination as Olivia's face finally crumpled. "Interesting…" He knelt down once more, his hand heavy on her thigh. As he brought the cufflinks up to her eye level, she squeezed her eyes shut.

They were both staring up at her bedroom ceiling, her head in the crook of his arm. Rafael was lazily playing with a lock of her hair. "I've wanted this for a while now." Her eyebrows shot up and she twisted to look up at him. "Really?" He was blushing—

Albert's hands were creeping higher, "Who's are they, Olivia?" She shook her head rapidly hating it as a tear ran down her cheek

—"I thought you were a Detective, Benson," he teased, bringing his hand to cup her cheek softly. "Yeah really." She propped herself up on her elbow to stare at him with a grin. "Rafael Barba!" He grinned back at her, adopting the same tone of voice, "Olivia Benson! What?"—

"Are they your boyfriend's?" he asked, voice dripping with mock sympathy.

—She shoved his shoulder playfully, "When were you planning on telling me that Mr. Assistant District Attorney Rafael Barba was a romantic?" He rolled his eyes at her, cheeks definitely red now, "Never. Show don't tell, I always say." She snorted, "Sure. Uh-huh, definitely. When I think Barba, I think tight-lipped"—

"I hope you got to say goodbye."

She hadn't.

"Because I promise you, you'll never see him again."