Title: One Hell Of A Racket

Authors: Sara And Lizzie

Rating: T for language, mild sex

Disclaimer: It would be nice to own such a vast enterprise, but it's all Dick Wolf.

Summary: Through a series of what can only be described as unfortunate events, Elliot and Olivia become the prime suspects in the murder of several informants who are key witnesses against the mob and a Colombian drug cartel. They're forced into hiding until they can clear their names, the question of whether that is possible, as well as the fact they're endangering everyone around them.

Author's Note: We haven't written SVU fiction in 35 years, approximately. We've been really into Grey's, but this struck us hard.

Attn: This is the actual beginning. We're now backtracking to how we got to the first chapter. Which is more of a prologue, anyway.

And as always….REVIEW.

All I want to do
is be there.

Little Italy,
4:52 PM

Olivia raised questioning eyebrows at Elliot as they entered the dingy building. It was old brick, the kind of building that had been there for years, it's upkeep long since abandoned. The stoop was covered in layers of grime, and it only got more dilapidated as Elliot pushed open the door and they headed up the stairs.

Tony Mazatto. He was their interview of the day, the third F.B.I informant they were talking to in secret. Tony was one of the F.B.I employees put undercover on this case because he was authentically very Italian. Olivia couldn't help but feel like the past week had put her in an episode of The Sopranos. Diaz had granted them several interviews to a few informants. If she was honest with herself, Olivia didn't know what was going on with this case, or anything surrounding it, just that it made her uneasy. She stood behind Elliot as he knocked on the door to the apartment they wanted.

The continued sound of his knuckles against the wood broke Olivia's inner monologue. There was no answer. Diaz had more than likely told his guy they would be stopping in. He should have been there, expecting them. Olivia saw Elliot's shoulders tense as he raised his fist to knock on the door once more. As he called in that they were police, Olivia watched his back. She could tell by the movements of his muscles what he was feeling. Nervous, relaxed, upset, tense. She knew her partner, knew his strengths, his weaknesses and all of ticks.

It was how they worked. She knew that detectives in their precinct outside of SVU whispered about them. They had too much invested in each other, and they both knew it. When you can time your own movements, your own thoughts and all of your actions against someone else's, of course you know them too well. They had invested everything they had in each other, especially since his divorce. He had become disconnected and distant, but she hadn't for one second given up on him. It was just the way they worked.

Elliot turned his head back enough to meet her eyes. She nodded, and sensed him getting ready to kick the door down. She reached for the handle with her small hand and twisted, pushing it open. He looked at her, almost sheepishly, and she just shrugged. So he liked to knock down doors. She could live with that, as long as he always let her try the knob first.

They drew their guns as they walked in, just in case. Olivia felt Elliot draw a little closer to her, staying in front of her in case someone was there, but giving her a perfect aim over his left shoulder should she need it. "Tony?" he called out as they separated and moved towards separated doors on opposite sides of the room. Olivia had the bathroom, which was vacant. It was so miniscule; she had counted on its emptiness. Bathrooms that could barely fit a shower rarely made good hiding places. "Liv." Elliot called.

She crossed the tiny apartment in four quick strides, falling still as she looked into the bedroom. The body of who she assumed was Tony Mazatto lay on the bed, a single trail of blood trickling down his face from the bullet hole in his forehead. She reached for her phone and dialed. "This is detective Benson," she started, spitting out her badge number and that day's security color. "We need a bus immediately, 3242 Elizabeth St."

They watched the EMT cart the body into the ambulance. "We're taking him right to the morgue." He said. "Called ahead. The ME's a little backed up, but she can have your information by tomorrow." Elliot nodded and muttered a thank you to him, and turned his attention to his partner, who was staring at the house, biting her lip listlessly.

"Liv…" he said, putting hand on her arm. "What is it?" She turned to him with stormy eyes, and the wind blowing her bangs across her forehead. She looked down at the dirty pavement, and Elliot waited patiently.

"It's just…" she started, "I just hate this. I have a bad feeling about this, Elliot. Three competing mob groups? Dead informants, all the secrecy. I don't trust anything here."

Before he could think about it enough to stop himself, he stroked her arm with his thumb and looked her in the eyes. "Hey," he said gently, "With a tough guy like me looking out for you? You've got nothing to worry about." She twisted her arm, wrenching it from his grasp and smiled impishly.

"Oh yeah," she said nodding, "Real tough guy, you are."

Office Of The Medical Examiner
7:30 AM

"I hope you're happy." Warner said when they walked into her lab. "Last night was a bitch. Two Jane Does in Brooklyn, and a dead dealer in Washington Heights, and then they need your guy rushed."

Elliot smiled at her. "That's why you're the best." Olivia nodded in agreement, sipping the coffee she was holding. Warner just shook her head at them and opened her report.

"Cause of death was obviously the bullet to the head, that's not the news. The interesting thing was the bullet itself."

Olivia raised an eyebrow and Elliot's brow furrowed as they stared at her questioningly. She looked at them, shaking her head, her eyes betraying that the news was neither expected nor particularly good. "It's a police issue bullet." She said. Olivia turned her head in Elliot's direction and they exchanged a glance.

"Could you determine a time of death?"

"Couldn't have been any more than thirty minutes before you got there. The blood had barely dried."

Elliot nodded. "Thanks Melinda." He said, ushering Olivia out the door. They walked back to the car in silence, each lost in their own thoughts and their own apprehensions. "Well that's interesting." Elliot finally said.

Olivia's lips parted to respond, but any words she had died on her lips. She just lowered herself into the car and looked out the window as they drove back to the precinct. When they made it to their desks, Elliot noticed a familiar figure waiting for them. "Agent Diaz." He said, extending his hand. Diaz shook it quickly, passing Elliot a note. With that, he was gone.

Elliot unfolded the paper and read it, passing it to Olivia. "We're meeting him at the foot of the Brooklyn Bridge at four." She muttered, loud enough for only Elliot to hear. "Interesting, indeed."

Brooklyn
4:04 PM

Diaz led them to a scenic strip of concrete and the three of them leaned against the railing the separated them from the water. Across the glittering expanse of the New York Bay was the financial district, the legendary skyscrapers that gave New York its image. To the passerby, they were simply three people whimsically watching the skyline of their most beloved city.

In reality, Diaz spoke to them in hushed tones, conveying the severity of the situation. "Describe it to me." He said. Olivia looked him in the eye.

"It was about 4:55. We knocked on the door for awhile, but there was no response at all. We started to get nervous, so we tried the knob and it was open. We let ourselves in and on our routine sweep of the apartment we found Mazatto in the bedroom. I called in a bus at about 5:02."

Diaz nodded. "What about on the street?"

"It was little Italy," Elliot said. "No one stood out as particularly out of place."

Diaz nodded. "I'm waiting for check-ins from the rest of my informants. Until I get them, I'm going to have to ask you to suspend your investigation."

Elliot and Olivia nodded in unison, not bothering to say any actual words. The less they said, the better off they were. It was not lost on either of them that they were brought here out of courtesy. Diaz was allowing them to tell him exactly what happened, before they were forced to tell someone in an interrogation room. Though they had yet to articulate it to each other, they were both thinking that it certainly didn't look good.

Diaz nodded at them. "I'll be in touch." He said, walking back to his car. Elliot and Olivia stood there after he left, just breathing and looking out at the water, the city. Neither of them made a move to return to the car, or to speak, or interact in anyway. There were so many things she wanted to say to him. That even though she never showed it, pretended to dislike it, she wanted him to be there to protect her. She wanted him to care. She wished she could turn to him, take his hands and say it all. She didn't mind him protecting her because she loved him.

And the words he wished he could utter to her. He wanted to pull her close to him and kiss her. A real kiss, the kind he had wanted to give her for years, not the sisterly pecks on the cheeks they had been known to exchange at holidays. He wanted to tell her that she could crumble, she could doubt, it wouldn't kill him. She didn't have to be so strong for him; he wanted to protect her.

"Olivia…."

"Yeah?"

He shook his head. "Never mind. We should get back."