Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out- I've been putting my creative energies into making fan videos lately. Thank you to everyone who has read or submitted a review- I really appreciate it!!

Rick Thomas

I watched Christine walk out with the detectives before finally getting up and leaving. Instead of calling a cab, which would have been easy to get at three in the morning, I opted to walk. It wasn't that far, and I needed the walk to try and unwind. To try and forget. To try and keep myself from destroying something. The night air was much colder now, but the air was still. I folded my arms, tucking my hands in under them, and set out towards my apartment.

The night had been too much. The irony was too much. . . she had been out listen to some of the top political and academic voices talk about the role of women and the equalization of their status, only to have to deal with what feminists have been fighting since the beginning of time.

There was no justice in this world.

Before I knew what was happening, I was opening the door to my apartment building. I mindlessly punched in my passcode and went in. I opted for the eight story hike up the stairs rather than the elevator.

What shocked me when I reached my apartment was that everything looked so normal. So ordinary. No one would ever know what had happened tonight just by looking around. The morning paper was still scattered on my couch. My coffee maker was still dirty. My laptop was still where I had forgotten it in the morning. I tossed my keys down on the counter and went to the fridge to take out a beer. I closed the fridge door then opened it again and pulled out three more. I had never needed a drink so badly in my life, and I didn't want to have to keep getting up to get more.

I flopped down on the sofa and opened the first. The cop suspected me. There was no question in my mind of that. I didn't care. I deserved it.

Guilt was consuming me. Already. I thought it would have taken longer. I started drinking the beer faster, trying so hard to forget. Numbness would be welcome at any point. I was starting to feel physically sick.

What the hell had I done?

The detectives would be around soon. They would have more questions, want an alibi.

And why shouldn't they?

I'm guilty as all hell.

Olivia

"Morning sleeping beauty," a voice greeted me what could only be minutes after I fell asleep.

My eyes sprang open and I found myself face-to-face with Munch, in his usual wake-up fashion, morning breath and all. Out of habit, I took a swing at him. Unfortunately, he knew me too well and managed to duck, sending my knuckle into the mattress. I groaned.

"Couldn't you have woken Elliot up first?" The sound of Elliot threatening Munch's life was easier to wake up to than this.

"Elliot was up before we got here." I looked over at the bunk he had occupied when we had gone to bed only a couple of hours before. Munch offered a fresh mug of coffee. "Peace offering."

I sat up, took it from him, and tried to collect my thoughts. "What did you find?"

"Well, while you were getting your beauty rest, Fin and I were out scouring the crime scene."

"And?"

"A possible footprint, some blood, evidence of a struggle. Oh, and a mitt. Did the victim have mitts with her?"

I shook my head, downing the coffee. "Not that I can remember."

"So it could belong to the perp, could belong to the victim, or could belong to one of the tens of thousands of students. You look pretty."

I rolled my eyes and resisted the temptation to smooth down my hair. "Give me ten minutes to change." I finished my coffee, crawled out of bed, and headed towards the change room.

I had just finished reviewing the files that had been left on my desk earlier in the morning when Cragen emerged from his office. "What have we got?"

"Christine Webber, 19, student at Columbia. She was coming home from a bar last night when our perp grabbed her."

"She was out alone at night?"

"She had been out with a friend," Elliot told him. "He was walking her home, then conveniently left the victim a minute before she was attacked. He came back just after the attacker ran off."

"Who is he?"

"Rick Thomas, age 27," I told them, pulling out the picture DMV had sent over from his driver's license. Elliot took the picture from me and passed it to Fin. "He's not in the system. Grew up in Washington, moved here eight years ago for school. He's working on his PhD in Criminology at Columbia."

Cragen took the picture and put it up on the board, along with the pictures of Christine from the night before. I continued. "She was wearing Tiffany diamond earrings when we got to the hospital. No robbery." I got up and pointed out the marks in the pictures. "He didn't appear to have caused any injuries other than when she fell and a couple of bruises that can be attributed to her struggling on the ground. He wasn't trying to hurt her. I think this was personal."

"Can Rick account for where he was?" Fin asked.

"He says he went back to the bar they were at to get his jacket before they closed. We didn't get a chance to check for witnesses last night," Elliot responded.

"You think it was him?" Cragen asked.

"I have no reason not to."

"What do we know about the victim?"

"Her school file doesn't list any problems other than participating in a protest that got out of control earlier in the semester. Long list of extra-curriculars, volunteers in Senator Adam Martin's office. She grew up in Vermont, no criminal record. Her parents were killed fifteen months ago in a plane crash coming home from Barbados. No other living relatives. Her father ran a mid-sized insurance firm, everything went to Christine in trusts. All told, almost 10 million."

"Okay, I want you two to swing by her place this morning, see how she's doing. Results from her rape kit back?"

"Doctor confirmed bruising, fluids and a torn hymen at the hospital. He put a rush on the DNA but the lab's been backed up for weeks. Her tox screen came back negative for drugs, blood alcohol of 0.04."

"Munch, Fin, go to the lab, see if you can't put a rush on the DNA- if we don't get it by the end of the week we won't see it until after the holidays. I want you to go back and canvass the bar, see if anyone saw Rick If he still looks good, go talk to him but don't pick him up until he have something more substantial. Then look for open cases that match the MO and other complains around Columbia. Benson, Stabler, when you're done with Christine, hit the university and talk to her professors. Try to avoid the Senator's office if you can, we don't need politicians getting involved in the case. I don't need to remind you that we need to tread lightly here. The university has offered us full cooperation on this. Get on it."

Fin

There was a shuffling inside after the second time I pounded on the door. I heard locks being unlocked, then the door finally opened.

"Can I help you?" the twenty-something guy that opened the door asked. He looked terrible. Wearing clothes probably from the day before, dark circles under his eyes and his hair was a mess.

"Police," Munch said, holding up his shield. "Detectives Munch, Tutuola."

"Come on in," he said, stepping aside. The studio apartment was small but fairly clean for a student. There were beer bottles scattered all over the counter, and he quickly pulled them out of the way.

"What can I do for you detectives?" he asked, fumbling around with a coffee filter.

"We understand you were with Christine Webber last night," Munch said in his annoying matter-of-fact-tone.

"Yeah. I was the one who brought her to the hospital."

"You had been with her earlier in the evening?"

"Yeah, he had gone out to a forum, then to a bar."

"What was the forum on?"

"Feminism."

We exchanged glances. "Are you and Christine dating?"

"No."

"Then what were you doing at a forum on feminism?" I asked, trying not to smile.

"I'm a political junkie, rumour was that Senator Rodham-Clinton was going to come out to it. So I went with Christine. She works in Senator Martin's office, and he was speaking there."

"And you went out after the forum?"

"Yeah, to a bar called Harrigans, it's barely five minutes from campus."

"Christine's only nineteen."

He put down the mug he had pulled out of his cupboard. "Are you really going to bust me for her drinking?"

"No. But I do wonder why you were going out drinking with Christine when you're eight years older than her."

"Look, Christine and I don't have any family. Mine's on the other side of the country, and hers is all dead. We're both involved with the Young Democrats and we have a lot in common. She's mature, and she's incredibly intelligent. Anyone who's spent any time with her knows that. And yes, she's gorgeous. I'm not trying to deny that. But she and I weren't dating, and I wasn't trying to seduce her. Anything else?"

"Yeah. Can anybody account for your whereabouts during the rape?"

"Probably not. It was late, I didn't see anyone I knew. Everyone at the bar was pretty drunk when we left. What do you want me to do to convince you that I'm innocent?"

"Will you consent to a DNA test?"

"Name the time and place."

"We'll be in touch with it," Munch promised, and we saw ourselves out.

"We'll be in touch?" I asked him.

"Guilty men don't offer up DNA. We don't have the DNA back from the lab yet, and if it turns out that the DNA was in the system, we're going to have one police plaza on our ass again about using department resources."

"So we should just let him go until then?"

"I don't like it, but what choice do we have?"

I shook my head, "Come on, let's see what the lab came up with."

"Where's Melinda?" I asked when we got to the lab. There was her little assistant cutting up a dead body on her usual table.

"Early Christmas vacation. Went with her family to the Dominican Republic. She'll be back next week."

"Must be nice to be her," Munch muttered.

"What can I do for you, detectives?" the assistant asked, pulling off his gloves and tossing them into the trash. "I didn't know you had a victim in the morgue."

"We don't. We were hoping that she might be able to rush a DNA test for us."

"Why the hurry?"

"High profile case."

His shoulders sagged. "Give me the name. I'll see what I can do. But no promises."

"Did you talk to the friend?" Cragen asked when we got back.

"He offered up a DNA sample," Munch answered. "But he sounds like he's hiding something."

"And did the lab come back with anything?"

"Warner's away, her assistant said he'd try and rush it."

"Okay. Open case files just arrived, the boxes are upstairs. Find me something to go on."

Elliot

"Can I help you?" A tall girl with blonde and purple hair asked, opening the door to the suite where Christine was listed as living.

"I'm looking for Christine Webber," Liv told her.

She nodded, and turned around, motioning for us to come in. "Police officers?" she asked, leading us into an L-shaped bedroom.

"How'd you know that?"

She sighed and sat down on her bed, then picked up a stuffed pig and absently held it to her chest. "She didn't come home until after I went to bed at three last night. She's never done that before. I woke up at five and found a pair of hospital scrubs on the floor. She was in the shower. I woke up again at six and she was still in the shower. I had an early class, and came back two hours ago. I put two and two together. She's been throwing up every half hour."

"Has she said anything to you?"

"Not about being raped." I was surprised at her bluntness. "And I'm not going to ask her about it if she doesn't want to say anything."

"Where is she now?"

"Washroom. End of the hall." She continued saying something to Olivia, but I got up and went down the couple of feet to the end of the suite's hallway.

"Christine?" I asked, softly knocking at the door. It was slightly ajar. "It's Detective Stabler." The toilet flushed, and the door opened. She was sitting beside the toilet with her head in her hands. Her face was pale, and her hair was wet.

"Hi," she said softly, lifting her head. She lifted herself up by grasping on the sink and splashed water on her face. She steadied herself by leaning against the sink, then turned back to me. "Did you have more questions?"

I shook my head. "We just wanted to see how you're doing."

She nodded. "Thank you. I appreciate it. I'm okay though."

"You don't look okay."

She shrugged. "It's just the morning after pill." She waited a minute, then headed back towards her room. I followed her. Her roommate was gone, leaving just Olivia waiting for her. She took a seat at her desk, took a slow sip of water, then turned towards Liv and I.

"Thank you for your support last night," she said to both of us. "I don't think I would have been able to do it otherwise."

"You don't have to thank us for that," Liv told her.

"I, um, I remembered something else about him. He was wearing a wedding ring. Plain band. I think it was gold."

I took my notepad out and scribbled it down. "Is there anything else we can do for you Christine? I know finals are coming up. If you need time off from classes or extensions-"

She shook her head. "No, I don't want any special treatment. I want to get on with my life."

I nodded. "We'll get out of your way then."

"Thank you for coming by." She stood up to walk out with Liv and I. As I walked past her desk, I saw that out-of-order on the perfectly tidy desk was Liv's business card tucked slightly behind the mousepad. I reached into my pocket, pulled out my own, scribbled my own cell number on the back, tucked it beside Liv's, then hurried to catch up with them.