Note: The deli that Olivia and Polly went to in the last chaper, "Stage Deli", is a real place in New York City, and they do have the BIGGEST slices of cheesecake I've ever seen! If you're in NYC, check it out!
Okay, now back to the story...
2
Olivia sat up in bed, wiping the sleep and hangover from her eyes. Where the hell am I? Olivia asked herself. Slowly as she woke up, she began to remember things about what happened the night before. Images, feelings, touches, orgasms... Polly... Olivia smiled to herself when she remembered the beautiful red-head who had caused her so much pleasure during the night.
Olivia climbed slowly out of the bed and grabbed various articles of clothing that were strewn about the floor to dress in. She stumbled out into the hallway and into the living area where Polly kept her sculptures in progress. She tripped on something and fell to the floor, turning back to see what she tripped over, and then she saw it. A pair of legs. She looked a little further up. They were connected to a body. And a little further, the body was connected to a head, well barely connected.
Olivia had to do a double take, a triple take, even a quadruple take. The beautiful woman with whom she had spent a wonderful night with was now lying before her, naked, her throat slit ear to ear.
"Polly..." Olivia sighed and sat back.
It took Olivia a couple of minutes to find some Aspirin to ease her throbbing headache. She sat on the couch, staring at Polly's lifeless body, wondering what the hell she was going to do about the mess that she was now dropped right in the middle of. I didn't kill her. Olivia thought. I know I couldn't have killed her. Olivia looked at her cell phone in her hand and dialed a familiar number.
"Liv, where the hell are you?" asked Elliot when he picked up.
"I'm—I'm in a bit of trouble El."
"What kind of trouble?"
"The worst kind."
"Liv, what's going on? Where are you?" he asked, his voice becoming more urgent and worried.
"You've got to help me El."
"I'm going to Liv, but you've got to tell me where you are first."
Olivia looked around and spotted a magazine on the coffee table in front of her. She read off the address on it, "1860 5th Avenue, apartment 10-B."
"Okay, I'll be right there."
"Elliot? Don't tell anyone where you're going. Please?"
"I won't tell anyone. See you in a bit." Elliot hung up and left Olivia sitting on the couch, wondering what the hell she was going to do.
Ten minutes had passed. Olivia had managed to clean herself up a bit, at least enough to not look like an 18-wheeler had just sandwiched her between a concrete wall. She gathered her things together and tried not to touch as much as possible. Some things were unavoidable, the sink, the medicine cabinet, but she tried the best she could in her hung over state.
The buzzer buzzed, and Olivia let Elliot in. A couple more minutes later, there was a knock at the door, and Olivia answered it.
"I've got two questions for you," said Elliot as he came in.
"Only two?" Olivia retorted.
"Who is Polly O'Hare and why are you in her—." Elliot stopped cold when he saw Polly lying dead on the floor.
"That is Polly O'Hare," Olivia said, pointing to the body. "And this," she grabbed one of the tumblers from last night off the coffee table, "is why I'm in her apartment. Any more questions?"
"Well yeah," Elliot said once he got his composure back. "What the fuck is going on here Liv?"
"That's a great question. The simple answer is, I have no idea."
"And what's the long answer?" Elliot asked as he examined the body.
"I met her last night. I was at a bar... and she was there... we had dinner, came back up here, had sex—"
Elliot cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the subject of two women getting it on. Even though Elliot was a great partner, and had known about Olivia's sexuality for quite some time, the good Catholic in him made it hard for him to speak of it with her.
"You wanted to know," said Olivia.
"Well maybe not so graphically."
"Fine, whatever. So I woke up this morning, came out here and saw her... like this. I called you. That's it."
"So you didn't hear anything?" Elliot asked.
"I was out of it last night. I had like four too many drinks. I slept like a rock" Olivia sighed, "Fuck! Fuck, I'm so fucking fucked!"
"Calm down Liv. Look we've got to call this in and let Homicide take over."
"We can't call this in Elliot! They'll arrest me. I'm the only suspect. We've got to do something!"
"We're not going to cover this up. Liv, I won't let them arrest you. You say you didn't do it, and I believe you."
"Do you really?"
"Yes. Liv, I've seen you drunk, you're not an angry or violent drunk. You're a stupid, tipsy, sometimes really funny drunk. But you couldn't have done something like this, sober or intoxicated. I believe you, fully."
Olivia nodded and began to calm down. "Okay... okay, call it in."
The room was bustling with investigators. Olivia sat on the couch, watching them collect evidence. In the corner, by the kitchen, Elliot was talking with Cragen and another man, Olivia assumed it was the detective assigned to the case. He looked like a hard-ass who wouldn't believe anything she told her. Fuck. I'm so fucked. Olivia thought as they came over to where she was sitting.
"I'm Detective Samson, I've been assigned to Miss O'Hare's case. Detective Stabler here tells me that you were here last night when Miss O'Hare was killed. Is that right Miss Benson?" asked Samson.
"That's Detective Benson," Olivia said with contempt.
"Right, Detective, sorry."
"Yes, I was here last night. I didn't hear anything, I was passed out."
"Right... Well, I'm going to need you to come down to the precinct and give us your statement."
"Of course," Olivia said, standing.
"I'll call the union attorney so he's present for your questioning," said Elliot, being such a good big brother.
Olivia smiled and shook her head, "No, I don't need a lawyer El. I didn't do it, I've got nothing to hide."
"Liv, it might be best if—"
Olivia interrupted him, "Elliot, trust me. They're not going to trick me into signing a confession. I'll be alright."
Samson took Olivia by the arm and led her out of the apartment. When they left, Cragen pulled Elliot aside.
"I want you to wait for Olivia at the precinct and give her a ride home when they're done questioning her. Tell her she's going to take the day off today. And then she's on desk duty until this is all cleared up."
"Captain, don't you think that's a little harsh?" asked Elliot.
"No. You know how Liv is, she's going to want to investigate this herself, and I can't have her getting into trouble on my beat. Now, I can't control what she does when she leaves for the day, but as long as she's on duty, she's at her desk."
"I'll do what I can. She's not going to be happy about this," said Elliot, turning to leave.
"Why don't you start at the beginning?" asked Samson. Olivia sat across the cold metal table from him. A tape recorder lay on the table in the middle. Olivia nodded and began her story, starting from the bar, and ending at Polly's apartment, never letting Samson get a word in edgewise. When she was done, she sat back and waited for him to ask her the questions she knew he was dying to ask.
"How long have you been a lesbian?" he asked.
Olivia laughed and shook her head, "All my life, Detective."
"Does your partner know about your... lifestyle?" asked Samson, eyeing her with contempt.
Great, he's a Republican. Olivia thought before speaking. "Yes. Detective Stabler knows. I don't shout it from the rooftops, but I'm not afraid to be out at work. My Captain knows, a couple of the others."
Samson's eyes squinted in anger. Olivia could tell he wanted to nail her on something, or just piss her off. "Do you do this often? Pick up women at bars?"
Olivia rolled her eyes. "Sometimes. It's nice to have someone to fuck every once in a while, but with my work schedule, I usually head home to crash."
"Do you get violent when you're drunk, Detective?" Samson asked, fishing for something he could use against Olivia.
"No. If you don't believe me, ask my partner. He goes out drinking with me and the rest of the squad after we win our cases. Now, if there's nothing else Detective, I'm going to get out of here."
"One more question Detective Benson, and then you're free to leave."
"I've always been free to leave, Detective Samson, or have you forgotten that you can't hold anyone without charging them with a crime?"
Samson leered at Olivia, "Who did you say you were waiting for at the bar when you meet Miss O'Hare?"
"A friend," Olivia said, hoping she wouldn't have to out Alex.
"Who? We'd like to question that person. To confirm your story."
Olivia sighed, "Alex Cabot."
"The ADA? Wow, I didn't know she was a dyke."
Olivia fought to keep her cool. "She's not," Olivia said, clenching her jaw. "We're just friends."
Samson smiled. Olivia knew he had found her one weakness, the beautiful ADA. "Well, we'll be sure to question her about that. You're free to go Detective Benson. Oh, and don't leave the city, you might be... wanted for questioning again."
Olivia smiled politely and left the interrogation room. Elliot was waiting for her by the elevators.
"What are you doing here?" asked Olivia.
"I came to take you home," Elliot said as they got into the elevator.
"I'm not going home."
"Yes you are Liv, Captains orders. You're going to take a personal day today, and for the rest of the week you're on desk duty."
"Fuck Elliot! I can't fucking do that!" Olivia yelled.
"Well, you've got to alright! You can't help everyone Liv. You've got to let Samson do his job."
Olivia stopped arguing. She knew Elliot would never break the rules. He could be reliable, smart, and very loyal, but thinking for himself was not his thing, especially when it meant disobeying the Captain. Olivia knew she had to find Polly's killer herself, she had to get justice for this woman because no one else would.