Disclaimer: Is Elliot a man-whore? Yes? Well, they're not mine. If he was man-whore with Olivia, it'd be a little difference.

Author's note: Loving the reviews, keep em up!

Fanfic recommendations:

Early Morning Introspection by NettieC

Something More by MariposaAngel18

A Ventral Tegmental Crisis by S.carlett V.on U.ttenburg

Read and Review those too, because not enough people have done that.

This is for Scarlett, who I sometimes believe is my sixth sense.

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"The sense of smell can be extraordinarily evocative, bringing back pictures as sharp as photographs of scenes that had left the conscious mind"

– Anonymous

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Thursday, October 14th

Munch and Fin re-entered the precinct about an hour after Elliot's phone call with Kathy. In the meantime he had taken the opportunity to assist Lake and Morales in narrowing the boundaries on Olivia's possible locations. As the perimeters closed in on more specific areas, he began to feel a second wind that he associated with that fact that he was going to hear Olivia's voice very soon. He needed that assurance that she was still alive.

There was a part of him that knew intrinsically that she was, but he realised that more than anything he wanted to hear her voice.

Fin had returned to his desk without looking at Elliot, but Munch walked straight past his desk, dragging his chair across the room to sit at Elliot's right. For a long moment, Elliot remained silent, staring at his blank computer screen. Munch didn't push him, and he was grateful for that. He simply sat next to him in a silent solidarity.

He took in a deep breath, his eyes firmly trained on the nothingness in front of him, "the last thing I said to her was that she was a coward"

Munch's finger moved to the dent on Elliot's desk where he had dropped his coffee mug Wednesday afternoon after Fin had alerted them that Ashton was on the phone. His desk still smelt like coffee. Normally it would help in sedating him, in calming his nerves; but today its scent served as a reminder that in all his years of living, his kids and Olivia were the only ones who could expose his weaknesses.

"Elliot, we'll get this guy," he turned his head in Munch's direction, watching himself in the reflection of Munch's glasses, "you remember what you told Olivia yesterday?"

Elliot nodded, "yeah, I told her to be strong"

To be strong for him.

He looked at his palm that was resting on the hard wood of his desktop and was reminded again of the slats supporting the mattress up in the cribs. He needed to get himself under control and start acting like a partner. Like the partner that had been missing over the past two years of them working together.

"We'll get her Elliot," he felt the definitiveness in Munch's voice wash over him and he realised that he wasn't in this alone, that Olivia wasn't in this alone.

Elliot nodded again, "what'd you and Fin get?"

Fin, who had been watching the exchange cautiously, rose from his seat, file in hand, "we interviewed Ashton's ex-girlfriend, a couple of his old bosses, his neighbours and reviewed some of the rape cases against him."

Elliot's eyebrows rose. He was impressed with the amount of ground they had covered in the short amount of time, "and? Anything that'll help us?"

Fin shrugged, "Ashton's the sort of guy who kept pretty much to himself. Girlfriend said that when he wanted to be he was a good guy. Neighbours could barely describe him, and the rape cases didn't shed too much light on where their possible locations could be"

Elliot nodded, but he felt Fin was holding back. He remained silent though, instead choosing to rise from his seat to drag the incident board into the middle of the room, "ok, so how many cases are there against him?"

"In New York?"

Elliot turned to Fin, scratching his chin, "There are more?"

Instead of answering, Fin silently began to tack up pictures of various women onto the board. He lost count after ten, and he felt his hope that Olivia would get out of this unscathed was pricked with each photo that Fin pinned up on the board. In the end, there were 15 traumatised faces staring back, and Elliot felt physically deflated. Now he realised why Fin was so silent and reluctant to look at him in the eyes when he first entered the office. Ashton was more dangerous than they had initially thought.

After he finished, Fin turned to face Elliot, "there are four women we know of in New York. The rest are from other states scattered across America"

Elliot shook his head, disbelieving, "how do we know that they're his victims?"

Fin opened the file in his hands again, "mostly DNA, a couple picked him out of a line-up. Ashton is Robert's real name, but when he was away on business he would use various aliases. That's why it's taken so long to find this guy and link him to these women"

Munch rose off the chair, moving to his partner's side, "this is much bigger now than we thought," his eyes lifted to Elliot's, "Cragen says the Feds are getting involved"

Elliot tried his best to remain impassive, "well that's understandable, this is across multiple state lines. They need to be involved"

Munch and Fin exchanged quick glances, "you sure you're ok with this?"

Elliot's heart had begun to race again, "why wouldn't I be? This is about getting Olivia back safely, that's all"

He met Fin's hardened gaze with his own, "ok"

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Before he started at the academy, and way before he was introduced into early parenthood, Elliot would spend his summers with his two brothers at his best friend's house at Rockaway Beach. Three weeks of each summer, they would pack away their problems at home and stay at a place where all they had to worry about was what to eat for dinner every night.

He distinctly remembered the last time he had ever stayed at the beach-house. It had been the year that he had met Kathy, and two months before he would be unexpectedly dropped into the role of father and husband.

That week had seen the days filled with torrential rain and gusting winds. He had taken the time to eagerly plan his future; perhaps take a trip with his brothers, attend the police academy, get married, have kids and eventually retire. Had he known that in two months time, his plans would be irrevocably changed, he would've taken the time to appreciate his last night more.

Sitting on the patio, the sun had made a brief appearance; the sunset had been extremely beautiful. But more than anything, he remembered breathing in the smell of the cool dusk air; the beach and rain. An overwhelmingly relaxing combination.

In two months, he would forever associate the smell of the beach and rain as that of a time when his life was so much simpler.

A smell that evoked in him a peace that he hadn't experienced in a long time.

In complete contrast however, he couldn't seem to escape the pressing feeling in his chest as he waited in his Captain's office for the presence of Dean Porter. Upon making connections across state lines with Ashton, the Feds invariably had their interest piqued - and their resident sex crimes representative had been called in.

Elliot kept his gaze straight ahead, boring a hole through Cragen's empty chair. The pressing feeling was less about the lack of composure he had been showing for the past two days, but more about the impending appearance of the Fed's Sex Crimes glamour-boy. Porter had never done anything to directly affect him, but he felt that this guy had an interest in Olivia that stemmed far beyond the job.

"Jerk," he huffed, folding his arms.

"I'm sorry?"

Elliot's head whipped to his right, as Porter and his Captain made their way into the office. He stood abruptly, his chair skidding backwards. Cragen and Porter remained standing as Elliot moved awkwardly towards them.

"Agent Porter," he extended his hand.

"Detective Stabler," he gripped his hand in a solid shake, and Elliot had to mentally remove the images he had of these hands on Olivia's body.

Porter reeked of expensive cologne, and Elliot's stomach contracted slightly, but he put his feelings aside, "What exactly are the Feds going to be doing?"

The corner of Porter's mouth lifted in a small smile, "we're not here to get in the way, Detective Stabler. We're here to help get Olivia back as safely and quickly as possible"

"It's Detective Benson"

Porter and Cragen froze, and they exchanged a quick glance. But Elliot was beyond caring. This prick was not going to get in the way and jeopardise getting Olivia back and safe.

Back to him.

Porter cleared his throat, "we're here to inject some more people-power into the investigation, some new technology from our labs, our best hostage negotiators. Olivia made quite an impression with the Bureau during her time with us"

Elliot could feel his eyes blazing; Porter was challenging him, daring him to do something to get him thrown off the investigation. To make one mistake that would have him handing over his badge and gun at the end of the day.

But he wasn't going to give this smug bastard the satisfaction, "She's a great cop," Elliot shifted his stare from Porter to Cragen, "he'll call soon"

Cragen nodded, visibly grateful that Elliot didn't further broach the subject, "we've got Morales and a Fed tech at your desk, waiting to trace the call. See if they're still in Manhattan"

Porter nodded, "I'll go help out"

Elliot moved to follow him out the door, but was stopped by a hand on his arm, "I want a word Detective"

As the door snapped closed, Elliot felt the bravado he had put on when Porter was in the office disappear. It was replaced now with a desperation to hear Olivia's voice.

"Agent Porter is here to help us Elliot," he turned to face Cragen.

The look Cragen was giving him was one that allowed no room for argument. Elliot realised that he was being selfish; Olivia meant just as much to the others in the squad as she did to him. If he kept walking around like he was the only one who cared, it would only be of detriment to Olivia.

"I know Cap"

They remained silent, the shadows filtering through the window playing across their faces and the objects in the room. His eyes fell on the photo that Cragen had on his desk with the three of them. It had been taken at the retirement of a fellow Captain two months ago. Usually, he and Olivia both refrained from anything that included a camera; a mutual distaste that had them scurrying when someone popped up wanting a photo. On this occasion however, their Captain had persuaded them to stay, and in a moment captured on film, the three of them looked truly happy. Had the photo been taken a scant moment before, it would have portrayed something very different.

I hate photos Elliot

I know, Liv, so do I

How's my hair?

Fine, how's my suit

Blue

Very funny, just smile

I will if you do, partner

He still vaguely remembered the intoxicating perfume Olivia had been wearing.

The smell of her hair and the way it was swept into an elegant bun at the base of her head, her long neck tempting him to sink his teeth into it.

The way her midnight blue cocktail dress clung provocatively to her curves, falling just above her knees; tempting him to run his hands along her legs until she cried out for him.

The way she held onto him a little bit longer than necessary after the photo was taken, prolonging the feeling of his hand on the small of her back, it's heat sinking through the thin material of her dress.

When he got home that night, he realised that his shirt still smelled of her perfume; it's invigorating aroma forcing him to guiltily shove it into the bottom of the laundry hamper so that Kathy wouldn't get it right away.

Now, he wished more than anything he still had that shirt in his possession, because each second that went by, he felt her scent begin to fade away.

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"It's Olivia!"

Elliot's heart-rate accelerated considerably as he waited for Morales give his okay to pick up the phone. After what seemed like an eternity, Morales nodded, and Fin transferred the call to Elliot's phone. He pressed the speaker button and inhaled deeply; the smell of coffee inadvertently filling his lungs.

"Olivia?"

Silence filled the squad-room, even the other phones of the office seemed to have realised the importance behind the call and remained quiet. Porter sat at Elliot's left, frowning at the lack of response. He opened his mouth to say something, but Elliot lifted his hand, abruptly shutting him up.

"El?"

It was so quiet, that he could tell Porter didn't hear it. But he felt like Olivia had just shouted his name at him, and he felt it move through his veins like a shot of adrenaline. He unconsciously moved towards the phone, pulling the handset closer to him.

"Yeah, Liv, it's me"

"Oh, El, it's so cold"

No matter what he said to himself before he took the call, no matter how much he wanted to hear her voice; nothing prepared him for the way his heart broke at how she sounded.

"I know Liv, but we're doing everything we can to get you back ok. Remember what I told you yesterday?"

"Yeah"

Elliot stopped breathing, he felt like the sound of it was way too loud, and getting in the way of Olivia's voice

"You told me to be strong for you, El"

His heart paused mid-beat. For him. Not just to be strong. But to be strong for him.

"That's right, Liv. And you know what? The Feds are helping us out to. Turns out you made quite an impression"

Her laughter was weak and abrupt, but he would take it over anything. Even a day spent back at that beach-house where everything was so much less complicated.

"You're a good cop El"

"Now's not the time to build my ego Liv, I need you to tell me where you are ok?"

Silence. Too much silence. He inhaled again, the coffee beginning to give him a buzz.

"I don't know exactly, but it's stuffy and dark. Smells like the back of Fin and Munch's sedan…"

Elliot couldn't help the laughter that escaped his throat, but it was abruptly cut off by a decidedly male voice, "Now, now Detective. What did I say about giving away my secrets?"

Ashton.

When he got his hands on Ashton's neck, he was going to squeeze the life out of him, inch by agonizing inch; until Ashton realised how Elliot was feeling each second that ticked by without Olivia at his side.

"Ashton, what do you want?"

Ashton's laugh filled the room, and it had the opposite affect on him. This time, it made his skin crawl and his teeth grit.

"Did you work out how much you're willing to risk for Detective Benson?"

He wanted to tell him he was willing to risk everything; that he would give his badge and his gun and his life for her to come back safely. But if Ashton felt he had Elliot where he wanted him, he would take absolute advantage.

"What do you want Ashton?"

"For you to stop talking to me like I'm a ten year-old child Detective Stabler!"

The anger in his voice was palpable, and the images of the fifteen women he had abused ran through his mind.

"Look, what do you want me to do for you Ashton?"

"That's better Detective," he had calmed considerably, "and because Detective Benson has been so willing and pliant, I'm offering to give you an actual chance of saving her life"

Elliot head began to spin at Ashton's words. What did he mean by pliant and willing?

"What do you need?"

Porter had noticed Elliot's distraction, and picked up the slack.

"There's a warehouse off Lexington Ave. Big, blue and deserted. I'll be there tomorrow morning at 11:30 with Detective Benson. Detective Stabler, you are to come alone. If I get any sort of wind that there is even one cop in the area, Detective Benson will get a bullet between those beautiful brown eyes of hers, and don't think I won't do it"

"Ok"

He spoke before he realised the words had come out of his mouth, but at this stage he would've agreed to anything.

"See you tomorrow morning Detective. And remember, come alone, or your partner will be no more"

The harsh sound of the dial-tone pierced the air; but Elliot felt a sense of determination he hadn't experienced since he began at the academy.

Morales, the federal agent and Porter were speaking quickly at the computer, typing in various commands. But Elliot's mind was elsewhere.

Tomorrow he had the chance to get Olivia back from this crazed lunatic.

Tomorrow, he had the chance to get his partner back.

To be able to sit next to her in the sedan on a stake-out, indulging in calorific hot-dogs whose smell would remain in the car-seats long after they'd been consumed.

To wake her up in the crib and realise when he took his turn to sleep, that the scent of her shampoo was still embedded in the material.

To catch the smell of sweat and tears she thought nobody saw her cry after a long work-out in the gym as a way of exorcising the demons of her day.

Sitting at his desk, the coffee still lingering in the air, he realised that the beach and the cool dusk air no longer represented simplicity and happiness anymore.

Now, as he recounted the retirement party all those months ago; as he inhaled the aroma that was purely Olivia, he realised she was his everything.

Whether it was when they sat next to each other, picking food off each other's plate after ordering out from their favourite Chinese restaurant.

Or if it was when they would work an interrogation in tandem and smell the fear on their suspect because they were so good at what they were doing.

Or perhaps it was because she was his partner, and it was as simple as that.