A/N: Sorry for the wait! It's been CRAZY! Hopefully this wont be my last Chapter before I leave, I've got the next one in the works as we speak, so cross your fingers and REVIEW :) haha I really swear, it makes me update faster. There's no better motivation! On another note: My Best Friend/Editor is back from Russian Camp! Woo hoo! That might also help with this whole updating cycle as well.

Random Note: So I went out to dinner the other night, and you know how in a lot of places they bring you the bread and then some kind of something to put on it. Well! This place brings you oil in a dish-plate, and it has seasonings and little what have yous all up in it. NOW, is it just me, or does anyone else find it unbearably unnerving when someone takes a piece of their bread and drags it all over the little oil plate and back again?! Not just once, but like 8 times, and you're just like Could you please stick to a single concentrated area on the plate?! Oh my geez. I'm sorry but small things like this annoy the hell out of me. ugh! Anyway... on the story...

Random Note #2: OH MY GOD! So I was watching Runaway Bride last night, and then who comes on screen in a tight, sexy 'Mountaineers Do It Against The Wall' T-Shirt? CHRIS MELONI! I know right?! I was so taken aback, and then my dad practically yelled, "It's Elliot!" It was great. But he totally ruined the movie for me. Why, you may ask. How could an extra gallon of sexy ruin an already fantastic movie? Well, you see, it is because I could never believe that any woman would leave HIM for any man - even if that man is Richard Gere. I mean seriously. ??

Alright, this time we're REALLY on to the story...

Disclaimer: If I owned them, there would be a special SVU channel on t.v. Haha did anyone else catch that? Special S.specialV.U. Like ATM Machine. haha I crack me up...

Chapter 6: Something Like Defense

Even if I knew my place

Mark Knowles' Apartment Building

Saturday, 8:30 pm

Most likely due to his salary, Mark lived in a fairly impressive building – he was a plastic surgeon that worked specifically with burn victims and those with facial deformities, or sufferers of automobile accidents, etc. Olivia was always rather impressed with his work, and in a way, it connected them. They both saw disturbing visions every day, but kept going out of their need to help, to make the world a little bit better, whether it was serving justice or giving someone their life back.

But as Olivia walked down the several flights of stairs with haste, approaching the lobby, she didn't take in a pixel of her lavished surroundings. It was all she could do to will herself to think about something else, anything other than the feelings washing over her in waves, drowning her ability to keep herself together. Her heart was racing at the sheer panic that she felt concerning the estranged emotions vandalizing her state of mind. She couldn't keep them in check as they tore her apart, slashing through her muscles, wearing her down, so quickly, like frozen knives, their cold blades ripping away. She didn't know how she was going to survive the hours to come if she didn't pull herself together.

Tramp, Whore, Slut, Trash… It wasn't the words that were carelessly flung at her that created this whirlwind of defeat, but rather the feeling of such intense inferiority that had nostalgically reawaken her insecurities. Sure, she liked to pretend that they didn't exist but she wasn't always completely naïve of their influence on her. And even if she hated to feel them lurking beneath the solid surface of her enduring strength, she could no longer ignore them, especially since they seemed to be devastatingly emerging all at once.

Feeling the burning rush of tears flood her tear ducts, all she wanted to do was scream, she was so incredibly angry with herself for reacting this way.

She needed to make this go away, she needed it to stop. How was she going to handle herself at work? There was, indeed, an extent to her acting capabilities, and although she prided herself on her ability to discretely hide her true emotions, she didn't know if she could this time. Not when she could feel her stomach being twisted into a balloon animal.

Suddenly, she felt herself being swung around, and for a moment, she honestly thought that she'd fainted since her vision was momentarily encompassed by darkness – probably because she was so lightheaded. But as the obscure black cloud began to dissipate, the view of an extremely distraught Mark came into her unhinged focus.

He pulled her closer, putting a hand on her heated face, and she was grateful for the momentary shock of cool relief. His expression changed though, as he studied her watery eyes, and vulnerable features attempt to steel themselves against his frazzled stare. He could tell that she was a little more than highly affected by the events that occurred just minutes ago, she could tell that he could tell. His eyes deepened with fear as she tried to mask the anguish exuding from her pores, and pick up the pieces of her dispersed self-respect that had fallen all over the floor.

"I'm so sorry," he told her gently, slouching down to meet her eyes when she lowered them to her shoes, ashamed at her own susceptibility. She shook her head slightly, knowing that he blamed himself for her affliction, and that was the last thing she wanted. She didn't need any more guilt on top of her angered turmoil. She felt him place a hand softly under her chin and lift her face to his once more. As he did so, she could no longer protest the few searing tears that begged for release, and slid shakily down her warm cheeks. Closing her eyes so he couldn't see the mortification that so openly resided there, she felt his thumb wipe the moisture away.

"Don't be, it's not your fault," she said, looking at the buttons on his shirt, and contorting her mouth in attempt to prevent more tears from escaping. "I'm fine," she lied with a small smile that echoed her dishonesty.

He smiled at her need to be strong but could easily see right through her, which was something quite foreign to him. He could only imagine how humiliated she must have been at her evident display of vulnerability, but he could not have found it more endearing yet painful at the same time.

"Yeah, because you sure look it," he said sarcastically, in an affectionate way, of course, that put a genuine smile on her face as he pushed her hair gently out of the way. She placed her hands on his as they rested on either side of her head, and knew that she wasn't fooling anyone, even if she had wanted to.

"I'm sorry," she said, leaning her forehead against his and closing her eyes, feeling his breath dance across her mouth as a few more tears escaped. "I don't know what's wrong with me," she admitted, her voice a mere whisper.

He could feel the wetness from her tears, dampen her soft skin as she leaned in to him, exhaling laboriously. Seeking some sort of needed confirmation, he couldn't help but bring his lips the last few centimeters closer to hers, barely touching, but it was all he needed. She did not contest his actions either, but rather sought the same fulfillment, needing to know that he was there for her when she was so despairingly at loss, and he was. He held her close and she absorbed his love for her, letting it seep through her veins like a numbing agent until she could no longer feel the confusion that tormented her so reproachfully. Clinging to him, she was afraid to let go, afraid that if she did, it would all come flooding back to her, and it did.

Abruptly, her phone began to ring, and reluctantly, she was forced to release her hold on him in order to answer it. Sighing heavily, she took it from her pocket and looked at the caller ID, seeing that it was from Elliot. For some reason at the sight of his name on the tiny screen, she felt a warmness spread through her chest and a sudden yearning - a yearning to see him, to talk to him, to make him understand, to make him fix her, just like he used to... but it was a hopeless thought, and she knew it. Things weren't like they used to be, she wasn't sure how much she could rely on him anymore. He'd failed her before, perhaps unknowingly, perhaps not, but regardless it remained true. And she didn't know if she could handle failure right now. Not when she was so candidly failing herself.

She drew a shaky breath, and answered, "Benson."

"Hey, it's me," she heard his voice on the other end, and backed away vagrantly.

"Hey."

"You ready for round two?" Round two? Round two of what? But then she remembered the stakeout.

"Oh, uhm... Yeah, I'm ready," she replied, somewhat distracted - by what, she didn't know. "Why, are you?"

"Yeah, I'm ready. I just wanted to know if you needed me to pick you up."

She let out a long and thoughtful "Uh..." at his question before answering. "No, I can make it there fine."

"Well, I know that, Liv," he said over the line with a smile. "But, really it's no problem, I'm already half way there anyway."

She began to panic slightly. No, she didn't need this, she didn't need another reason for him to become angry with her. She just needed him to comply and give her some form of normalcy when she arrived. "Don't bother, El," she told him. "Really I'm fine."

"Bother? It's on my way," he said with a laugh. Her rejection struck him as odd, and even though he would be with her for the next six and half hours, at least, he still wanted to see her. "Come on," he tried to cajole her playfully.

"El..." she said helplessly, stepping a few more feet away from Mark. She didn't want to have to bring him up again, not when the subject was still sensitive and awkward, and not when she was in such a state of distress. It wasn't fair. Life just wasn't being fair. She was rather pissed off at life right now, it kept doing this to her. And it didn't help that she wasn't exactly in the right frame of mind and felt like crap.

"What?" he asked obviously confused. "I'm almost there."

"Don't," she said, more firmly than she meant to.

"Why? Liv, what is this? What's up?"

"El, you can't come pick me up..."

"Why not?"

"Because," she started, hesitant to continue. "Because, I'm not at home..." She truly hoped that he wouldn't ask her to further explain, it was already more than she cared to share anyway.

"Oh," he instantly understood. All right, he looked like an ass. "Oh, well then, uh, don't worry about it," he said, hoping to cover the awkwardness that he'd so stupidly created. "I'll just... see you there then."

"Yeah," she sighed, feeling her heart clench. "Thanks though."

"Sure," he responded, pulling away from her apartment, and heading toward the precinct. "No problem," he managed to get out after a few more seconds of unwieldy silence, his voice audibly tight.

"Then I'll see you there?"

"Yeah," he replied hoping that she couldn't hear the unmistakable disappointment in his voice. "Bye."

She hung up and grabbed a fist full of her own hair, pulling it back from her face with an uneasy groan. She turned back around to see Mark still there, waiting for her to finish.

"Gotta go?"

"Yeah," she nodded as he approached. Embracing her once more, he rubbed her back a little, in a comforting manner before hugging her tighter. "I'm so sorry about tonight, I never meant for any of this to happen," he apologized, kissing her hair as she nested herself deeper into his embrace.

"I know," she assured him, sincerely. "It's not your fault, I'm just..." she trailed off with a sigh. "I don't know, tired or something," she said pulling away and giving him an enforcing smile. Somehow, he still wasn't entirely convinced, but knew that she had to go, so he'd save his questions for later. He only wanted to be sure that she was okay.

"Okay," he agreed, letting the subject drop. "Give me a call when you get the chance. I'll pick you up."

"Kay," she said, running her hand down his arm and placing a small kiss on his lips. "See you later."

"Drive safe."

"Okay," she told him, looking back as she walked out of the door.

Sidewalk: Outside Mark Knowles' Apartment Building

Saturday, 8:37 pm

As Olivia walked towards her car, trying to calm herself down, she heard her phone ring again. Looking at the caller ID, she saw that it was Elliot. Again. She hoped to God that he wasn't going to ask for Mark's address so he could come pick her up there. It would be just like him, use that as an excuse to see where he lives.

"Hello?" she asked tentatively after finally picking up.

"Hey, sorry to call back so quickly but Munch and Fin just got our guy," he told her, hoping that the relief of not sitting together in a car for another six hours would alleviate some of the discomfort he'd caused just minutes ago.

"They got Harris?" she asked surprised, and grateful. Hopefully the interrogation would be enough to distract her.

16th Precinct

Saturday, 8:50 pm

As Olivia walked through the doors of the one six, she could hardly wait to simply throw herself into work. She was still traumatized by the incident that occurred not even an hour ago, and was actually quite surprised that she didn't get into an accident on the way over since she was still trying to sort herself out instead of paying attention to anything going on around her, including the road. She knew that work would lend her emotional impulses some much need relief, and God did she need that relief.

Walking into the squad room, she saw that Elliot was already there waiting for her. A smile lit his face when he saw her, hoping that they could skip over mentioning his first phone call, but when he looked more closely, his smile began to fade. He noticed that she not only looked exhausted, she looked withdrawn, as if 5 galaxies away, and completely occupied by her own thoughts. Had she been crying?

"You okay?" he asked as she put her things down and threw off her jacket.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she answered shortly, then taking off towards her locker.

He hadn't been expecting that. In fact, a seed of fear suddenly rooted in him at the thought that maybe he'd been the one to cause this. But their second phone conversation, albeit shorter, had gone more smoothly than the first one, and it certainly hadn't indicated that behavior like that was to come. Did he miss the memo? Were they at odds again so soon? That would be ridiculous… Had something happened while she 'wasn't at home?'

"He in there?" she asked, walking back and motioning towards the interrogation room.

"Yeah, he's ready when we are," he replied, noticing that something was still off. He continued to watch as her eyes scanned vaguely over the room and she nodded her head. It looked as if she was ready collapse, and her eyes were visibly red. She'd definitely been crying. "You're sure you're okay?" he asked worriedly.

She looked over at him and blinked a few times as if she couldn't see anything, her eyes clearly unfocused. He instinctively stood up. She was starting to scare him. "Liv?"

"Yeah," she said breathily, not fully there, and wavering slightly. She went to grab on to her desk for support but missed, and thankfully, he was there to steady her. Holding on to him, and catching her breath, he came back into her line of vision. Realizing that he was holding her up, very closely at that, she looked down and released herself from his grasp. "Sorry," she said sheepishly.

He glanced around quickly, then lowered his voice, and moved closer again. "What's going on with you?"

She looked at him incredulously, bringing her head back slightly as her eyebrow knit together. "Nothing."

"That's not 'nothing,' Liv," he told her seriously. "What happened?" he asked, hoping that he was right about his assumption that something actually had happened and he wasn't just making an ass out of himself. Again.

Looking away, offended at his question, she sneered and then looked back at him in disbelief, as if he had been the one calling her a whore. "Nothing happened," she said backing away slightly. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine," he said, his voice calm and sensitive, but mostly concerned.

"Well, I am fine, so drop it," she said, her voice rising ever so slightly, before she went to step around him to get to her desk. But as she attempted to side step him, he grabbed her arm before she could do so, and brought his voice down again.

"You practically just passed out, and you expect me to believe that you're fine?" he asked incredibly.

"Yes, and no I did not just pass out," she retorted in an equally low tone, yet hers was far fiercer and contained a biting edge. "I'm just a little light headed, that's all."

"You're being ridiculous, you know that?"

That's it. He was the ridiculous one now. Why couldn't he just take her perfectly logical explanation and leave her alone? She didn't want to think about what happened. She didn't want to think at all! She was getting a splitting headache, and she just need him to leave her alone and realize that he was supposed to be interrogating Harris, not her. "I'm fine," she hissed, closing her eyes, trying not to notice the throbbing as her body temperature began to skyrocket.

"I'm just worried about you."

"Don't be," she finished resolutely and walked off in the direction of the interrogation room, grabbing Brendan's file on the way.

16th Precinct: Outside of the Two-Way Mirror

Saturday, 9:00 pm

He stood quietly listening on the other side of the glass window, watching his two best detectives at work, and hoping that this was their guy so that they could close the case by tomorrow. Harris looked nervous as hell and the interrogation had only just begun, either this guy was really guilty or really innocent.

"Sure," Harris said looking at the pictures Olivia had just handed him, a horrified expression on his face. "Angela's my girlfriend…" Cragen watched as Brendan's fingers traced the surface of the photographs, tears welling in his eyes. "Who did this to her?"

"That's what we want to know," Elliot commented from his laid back position on the wall. Uncrossing his arms and stepping forward, he walked over to the dark haired, scruffy looking younger man. "And right now, you're looking pretty good for this one Brendan."

"You think I killed her?!"

"Well, we've got at least one eyewitness who says that you've been stalking her for the last few months," Olivia told him seriously, staring him down with her dark brown eyes. "She broke up with you…you just couldn't stay away? Figure if you can't have her, no one can," she told him methodically, walking him through it, gauging his reaction. "We see it all the time."

"I didn't kill Angela," he said firmly with traces of fear adorning his face. "We're in love."

"Were in love," Elliot corrected, getting a little closer to his face. "She dumped your ass hard and you just couldn't handle it. Couldn't let go? Decide to make her pay for what she did to you."

"No!" He said, his eyes gleaming with watery streams of terror. "No…No. I mean, yeah I followed her for a while, sure. But I just wanted to talk to her, I swear! I'd never hurt her…" He buried his head in his hands with a sob.

He saw Elliot step back, turning around, clearly thinking of how to handle this now. Olivia looked his way, into the mirror, and he noticed that she was sweating the bullets that should have been coming from Harris. Her forehead glistened below the florescent light fixture hanging from the ceiling. Her eyes looked sunken in and red. What was wrong with her? He wasn't quite sure if he'd ever seen her look this exhausted, or this weary. Should he take her out? Tell her to go home? He was worried about her, sure, but he was also worried about the interrogation. If this Brendan guy was nothing more than an actor, he needed to make sure that they got a confession – and Olivia, frankly, didn't look her best. He didn't want, or need, her to jeopardize this.

"Why'd you leave town the night after Angela was murdered?" Elliot asked in a stern tone that spoke all business. He was over this act, and wanted answers.

Brendan looked up with red, sunken eyes, and his mouth hanging open with the wetness from spilt tears smeared across his face. "My mom's… She's sick. She has a live-in nurse, but she called me that day, told me something'd happened with her family and she had to go out of town for a few days. She wanted to know if I could come down and take care of her. I swear that I was there since Thursday morning."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" Olivia asked, wiping her brow and then putting her hair into a ponytail. "We talked to guys down at the restaurant where you work. They said you never called the entire time you were gone."

"I was in such a hurry to get down to Jersey that I don't know, it was the last thing on my mind," he explained. "I-I guess I figured that I'd call in sick once I got down there but, I was so worried… I just didn't think about it."

"Olivia," Cragen said, stepping through the door and motioning for her to follow. "I need to see you outside."

Confused, she looked to Elliot who simply shrugged his shoulders, equally bemused, but secretly glad that Cragen was pulling her out. She was pushing herself too far, even if she was so stubborn that she couldn't see it for herself. Hopefully she would go home and get some sleep. Could she even drive?

She got up slowly, making sure that she was completely steady this time as to not make a fool of herself – again, and walked out of the door past Cragen, leaving a distraught Brendan alone with her partner. She stood back and waited for her Captain to close the door and explain himself. He had no reason to take her out of there, especially not when all she wanted to do was have something to completely focus, what was left of her energy, on. Placing her hand on a nearby ledge, or was it a table, she tried not to let herself succumb to the darkness weighing on her eyelids. Whatever. She didn't care.

"Go home."

Her head shot up. "You're taking me off the case?"

"No," he told her plainly. "I'm sending you home. You don't look so good-" she heaved a sigh and was about to protest when he cut her off, and continued, "There's nothing else we can do tonight, and Elliot can finish this one up by himself. But even still, I don't really think we're going to get much out of him, he doesn't strike me as our guy."

"Cap, just…" she attempted to think of something to say that would convince him that being alone with her thoughts was not the solution to making her better right now. Interrogating Harris would, even if he wasn't their guy, it would at least divert her attention for a little while. "Give me a few more minutes with him."

Just then, Elliot came out of the small room as well, looking at both parties quickly before explaining himself. "I don't think he's our guy," he stated, shoving his hands into his pockets casually. "I mean, Cap, you saw those pictures, I don't think this guy's got it in him. Besides, I can't get another coherent word out of him," he said, jerking his head toward the glass, revealing a sobbing man balled up in the corner of the room.

"I can see that," Cragen agreed. "I was just telling Liv to go home, you'll both need sleep for your ride down to Jersey tomorrow. Make sure his story checks," he told them and they both nodded. "See that she gets home okay," he added, looking at Elliot who nodded again, and then walked out, ignoring Olivia's frustrated grunt at being treated like a child.

There was a small silence in which, the two stood somewhat awkwardly, before Elliot spoke. "You need me to give you a ride?"

"No, I'll be alright," she said softly. She ran a hand down the side of her face trying to rub away some of the stress that she knew was singed there. Part of her wanted Elliot to take her home. Hell, part of her needed him to, either because she was physically incapable or for other reasons entirely, it didn't matter. So she stood there, even if the other part of herself told her not to.

"Liv, come on, I have to pick you up tomorrow anyway," he told her, almost getting déjà vu at the thought of their conversation earlier that evening. Almost. It was different this time. He could tell - it was painfully obvious, at least to him, if not the rest of the world - that she wasn't fighting him even half as hard as she normally did. In a sense, it almost worried him more – something really screwy must have happened, but he was just so glad that she wasn't walking away, he couldn't allow himself to dwell on it too much. "Let me take you home…" he said coaxingly, still waiting for an answer.

Her reply came shortly after, but the small "Kay" was so soft, that he wasn't sure if he'd actually heard her say it. Before he could stop himself, he felt a sudden burst of relief rip through him, but could it be that easy? He looked at her, a little surprised that she'd permitted herself to succumb so quickly. He knew that she would have eventually, but still. She hadn't even tried to make it difficult.

Still standing silently, she could feel his questioning stare on her, and knew that ignoring it could only work for so long. She tilted her head slightly to meet his gaze and affirm that he'd heard correctly. Somehow she conjured a sincere smile, small but valid, and nodded her head. Slowly, he returned it and breathed a final sigh of thanks. "Alright."

A/N: BRACE YOURSELVES for a good dose of sexy EOness in the next chapter! Who knows when it will be up... Unless you REVIEW. I'm going to write a song about REVIEWING, and you all will love it. Just wait. Speaking of which, does anyone else sing along to the SVU theme song? Like, I know it has no words, but do you make the noises and stuff? I do :)