Author's Note: I apologize for the delay in updates. It's hard to find the inspiration sometimes as I'm sure some of you know. I hope you like it.

Happy Reading

******

He stood silently in the shadows of the darkened apartment, the tendrils of darkness forming a second skin, enveloping him into their depths. His eyes tracked her, his finger resting securely on the trigger, pressing it firmly in rapid succession.

The shutter of the high speed camera in his hands clicked rapidly. He watched her in safety from an apartment across the street as she walked into her bathroom, flipping on the light as she went. She bent over the tub, turning on the water for a bath. He watched her as she reached for the hem of her shirt, his camera clicking swiftly as she pulled the shirt over her head revealing the creamy golden skin hidden beneath the fabric.

After snapping several more pictures he sat the camera down on the windowsill, turning to face the occupants of the loft he had hijacked for his use. They lay bound and gagged on the floor, their eyes trained on him in wary attention. He smiled down at them.

"Time to leave another message," he said, his voice echoing through the darkness.

He moved further into the blackness, retrieving the bag of tools he'd brought with him, before moving back to stand in the small pool of light that filtered in through the windows.

"Let's get started shall we?" He asked the couple, smiling down at the trussed pair lying motionless on the floor. He held up the glinting steel of the small razor blade in his hand, his eyes flashing with excitement.

******

The pounding on her front door was the thing that finally woke her. Her alarm clock failed to rouse her into consciousness, the ringing of her phone nothing more than an annoying buzz in the background of the dark dreamless sleep she had been able to sink into only an hour ago.

Olivia dragged herself out of bed, barely resisting the urge to grab her gun from the bedside table as she made her way irritably to the front door.

She yanked the door open and found Elliot standing there, his face drawn and grim. She felt some of her irritation ebb as she studied his haggard appearance. Evidently she wasn't the only one who'd had trouble sleeping last night.

Elliot held out a large cup of to go coffee to her, which Olivia accepted gratefully, not pausing to cool the near scalding liquid before taking a huge gulp. She felt the rush of the caffeine shoot through her almost immediately, improving her mood greatly.

Olivia motioned Elliot into her apartment, swinging the door shut behind him. "Cap gave us the morning off remember?" Olivia asked sauntering past him with a look of mild reprove.

"What's going on El?" She asked perching on the edge of her couch, sipping her coffee and regarding him with an inquiring look.

Elliot watched her, her cup of coffee cradled protectively in her hands, and regretted for the millionth time his decision not to come over last night when sleep wouldn't come to him. He'd known instinctively that sleep wouldn't find her either, just as he had known they would find peace together.

Elliot cleared his throat, spotting the almost smile tugging at her lips as she noticed him staring at her. "Double homicide," he said quietly, noting how her face immediately sobered. She rose from her seat on the arm of the couch and handed him her coffee, walking into her bedroom to get changed.

Elliot followed her, leaning against the open doorway that led to her bedroom. She rummaged around in her dresser, pulling out several items before sliding the drawers shut.

"Where?" She asked, quickly undressing. Elliot stood in the doorway holding her coffee, watching silently as she changed.

"Across the street," Elliot answered, his mouth set in a grim line.

******

Olivia walked onto the scene and was immediately assaulted by the overwhelmingly pungent stench of decay and death. Blood spatters decorated every available surface of the room like some grotesque art project gone wrong. Hanging from the exposed wooden beams of the loft, a pair of headless bodies hung, suspended in mid-air by the rope tied around their wrists. Their clothes had been shredded until nothing but tatters remained, dangling from what was left of the people they had once belonged to.

"We got the call about an hour ago," Elliot told her.

Olivia surveyed the scene, her detective's eye cataloging everything. "Who called it in?" She asked, making her way through the apartment.

"Anonymous," Elliot told her. "TARU traced it to a cell; prepaid."

Olivia moved over to the far wall behind the bodies. The wall was covered in dried blood script; the words "flex hint fad" scrolled across the entire wall. "Do we know who the vics are?" She asked, her eyes scanning the wall.

"With the state of the bodies ID is going to be difficult. We're working off the assumption that the victims are the owners of the loft," Elliot informed her. "A young newlywed couple, Marissa and Jacob Piere," he said checking his notes.

Olivia bent down, noticing a block of smaller words underneath the nonsensical words that spanned the wall.

Benson & Stabler:

Juries of your peers acquiesce with your position

Understanding of your transgression

Some will lose their lives in fight

Two won't live throughout the night

In your hands fate does play

Catch me soon or more will pay

Everyone must pay for death unfair

In one brief moment he was gone, executed by you

Now you'll come to know all of his despair

Death has come for its revenge

Endless torment and gruesome fear

All his pain you'll feel

Time has developed into a wound that will not heal

Her cries of pain will forever echo through my reign

See you soon…

******

The world felt like it was spinning off its axis, falling further and further away from reality. Olivia sat on the edge of her desk, the strange poem echoing through her mind, a fresh cup of coffee clutched tightly in her hands.

Elliot leaned against the edge of his desk only a few inches from her, silent as they listened to their captain bring the task force that had been assembled up to speed on the case.

"You all have your assignments," Cragen said grimly. "Get to work."

Elliot and Olivia sat unmoving as the rest of the squad broke apart, each moving to carry out their assignments. Elliot looked over at the big board that had been set up in the squad room, all the information they'd gathered about the case staring back at him.

Elliot's eyes traveled to his partner, noticing that Olivia hadn't moved at all since the briefing had begun, her eyes transfixed on the black liquid in her cup. "Liv," Elliot said softly, nudging her arm with his elbow. Her eyes snapped up to meet his, coffee sloshing in her cup as she jumped.

"Sorry," she said distractedly, reaching behind her to place her cup on the desk.

"You okay?" Elliot asked, his eyes studying her face.

Olivia smiled at the absurdity of the question. Elliot smiled back at her, realizing the reason for her smile immediately. "Stupid question," he said with a grin. Olivia shifted to get into a better position, her arm brushing against Elliot's forearm.

"I've just been thinking. That creepy poem he left for us, the random string of words… I know it all means something," she said looking away from him and towards the board. "Something important, and we're missing it."

Elliot got up from his perch on his desk, moving to stand in front of the board. His eyes narrowed in concentration, his arms lay folded across his chest. "Okay, let's start with the poem, we'll take it line by line."

Olivia got up and stood beside him, her eyes glued to the board. "I think the first few lines are pretty straight forward," she said raising her hand to point to the lines in question. "This guy obviously thinks we've done something wrong and that the force is looking the other way. The fourth line, 'Two won't live throughout the night. Sounds like he's targeting cops," Olivia said, running her finger along the lines. "This line here where he says 'In one brief moment he was gone, executed by you' has got to be the motive behind all these murders. The answer to this guy's identity has got to be in one of our old cases."

Elliot focused on the board laid out in front of him. "That's a lot of area to cover," Elliot said frustrated.

Olivia shook her head. "We don't have to look through every case we've ever worked," she reasoned. "This guy probably hasn't been nursing his grudge for more than a year or two at most. If we only look at the cases within that time frame, factoring in the cases where someone was killed, and it should narrow the field down significantly."

******

Elliot's eyes swam, the words on the screen all melding together to make one giant blob. He glanced at his watch and instantly felt the drain of the late hour hit him full force. They had been working almost nonstop for more than six hours. Most of the officers in the precinct had gone home to get some much needed rest, only a handful staying to work through the night. He glanced at the window, the blanket of night covering the visible skyline of Manhattan in its inky darkness. He leaned back in his chair with a loud yawn, stretching his arms overhead. He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, rubbing the soreness away.

"Find anything?" Elliot questioned opening his eyes.

Olivia raised her eyes to his briefly, giving him an annoyed look before returning her gaze to the screen in front of her mumbling something that he couldn't quite make out but didn't sound like anything friendly.

Elliot stood up from his desk. "I'm going for coffee. Want some?" He asked her.

Olivia flashed him a grateful smile. "That would be great," she answered.

Elliot nodded, smiling back at her. He grabbed his coat and pulled it on, disappearing out the door a few seconds later.

Olivia turned her attention back to the screen, so absorbed in it that she didn't realize someone was standing in front of her until he spoke. "Excuse me," his deep voice boomed, causing Olivia to jump slightly in her seat. She looked up to find a gangly young man, shaggy brown hair standing in complete disarray, standing by Elliot's desk. "I'm looking for Detective Stabler," he said checking his clipboard, a large bulky envelope clutched in his other hand.

"He just stepped out. I'll sign for it," Olivia offered rising from her chair. He handed her the thick envelope and the clipboard with a smile.

"Thanks," Olivia said signing quickly before handing him back the clipboard.

"Have a good night," the delivery guy said jovially.

"You too," she said tossing the envelope onto the piles of folders that nearly encompassed Elliot's desk.

She sat back down and started going through the old cases again. Riccoli's case file was on her screen, his mugshot staring back at her. She tried to focus on the words, the facts of the case, but she could feel her skin crawling as memories of her captivity came back unbidden. She could still hear his voice in her head, felt the sickening touch of his hand on her skin. His last words haunted her every day, a waking nightmare that she couldn't shake. 'You'll always be mine. I'll never be gone.'

Olivia jumped as she felt a hand land on her shoulder. She looked up to find Elliot staring at her, a look of concern on his face. "You okay?" He asked handing her a cup of coffee. She smiled at him, shaking off the remnants of the disturbing memories she'd been trapped in.

"Thought you were going to stop asking dumb questions," she said sitting her cup down on the edge of her desk untouched. Elliot flashed her a smile, moving towards his desk.

"If I did that I'd never be able to talk to you again," he said teasingly. He gestured to the envelope on top of all his case files with his cup. "What's this?" He asked. Olivia looked up at him.

"You had a delivery while you were gone," she answered.

Elliot sat down at his desk, pushing aside a mound of paperwork to make room for his coffee cup. He grabbed the envelope and ripped it open, pulling out a stack of pictures. Elliot's jaw tightened, anger pulsing inside him, cold fear chasing right behind, as he flipped through the pictures. Everything else faded away as he clutched the pictures tightly in his hands, his fingers aching from the strength of his grip. He faintly heard Olivia call out to him, her voice sounding impossibly far away. He shook his head, clearing away the haze of emotion that had momentarily held him in its paralyzing grip.

"What is it?" Olivia asked worriedly, watching him with growing concern.

He tossed the pictures onto the desk in front of her, sending her coffee flying off the edge with a splash. Olivia sat motionless, staring at the pictures in front of her. She raised her eyes to Elliot's, her face draining of color.

"Are they all pictures of me?" She asked staring at the picture laid out in front of her, taken of her getting ready for bed. Olivia shuddered to thin of someone watching her, photographing her. She found herself wondering if she was still being watched, an unsettling thought to say the least.

Elliot shook his head. "Not all of them," he growled, rage leeching into his voice. "The last two are something else," he said leaning across his desk to grab the pictures in question, holding them up for her to see.

The first was a picture, a close-up of a bloodied terrified woman in uniform, the woman bearing a striking resemblance to her, her eyes haunted as she posed for the picture. Olivia felt her heart twist painfully in her chest, the woman's circumstance bringing back tormented memories of Riccoli. Olivia found herself momentarily transported back to the basement of the school where she'd been held prisoner, watching history play out through the vacant eyes of someone who was about to die. She saw his knife arcing down, the glint of the steel like lightning to her mind. She felt coldness creep into her body, the memory of the knife sliding into her making her chest tighten in remembrance. She absently placed her hand over the scar on her chest, struggling to regain her composure, stifling the urge to scream. The last thing included in the packet was a newspaper clipping on Elliot and Olivia's commendation for saving the Bregman girls.

Olivia felt all the air rush out of the room as her eyes quickly scanned the article.

"Riccoli," she whispered shakily.

******

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