must…get…to…drama.
I know, the humor is just wearing me thin. I'm sure you're all like: "rape somebody already!" but let's let time take its course. kate is dying to get the tear-jerking-rip-your-heart-from-chest-and-pound-it-with-a-sympathy-stake fun on its way, but I suppose a good tampon joke is due.
I am currently staring at some mariska-preggo icons on svuicons. holy frick. perhaps I should start thinking about going down that path eventually, though this story would probably die an untimely death with a baseball bat in its rear. but the temptation…mariska is so adorable pregnant. MAJOR SIGH.
sorry this is a short chapter. I want to stretch this poor storyline for as long as I can, so the chapters will be a bit shorter, lucky for you. also, sorry I skipped between perspectives for a bit- the scene sort of called for it. have a party again, folks.
She had seen the expression on his face, much as he had wanted his sarcasm to hide it. She had seen the way he'd glanced over his shoulder, bright grey eyes flickering onto her form as she stood beneath the towering birches. Was it fear? Was it pity?
Was it both?
"What did he say?" She tried to smile casually, like she hadn't noticed his expression.
He shrugged, slipping the phone back into his jacket pocket. "Tara was being stalked. And Huang came up with a new profile."
"Stalked?" She stared at him, rubbing the back of his neck in earnest shame. What did he have to be sorry for? She was the one who had said 'Yes, I'll do the case.'
"Yeah, have you noticed anyone…you know?"
"No." She tried to remember a face that had stood out, a man whose gaze had lingered on her longer than normal. But she couldn't. Part of her breathed a sigh of relief. Part of her just wanted the case over with.
He rested his hand on her shoulder, his smile suddenly reassuring. Well, the case didn't have to completely end, maybe…
"Hey, don't worry." He stared into her eyes, and she was afraid he would see what she was thinking. Thos eyes of his…it was like they could strip away her whole soul. "What's a husband if he doesn't keep an eye on his wife?"
She sunk under his grip. He could have said something about partners, about cops, about friends.
But husband and wife. Something they weren't. Something they were.
"Thanks, Daniel." She whispered, wrapping an arm around his neck and pulling him in for a playful hug. But it didn't seem right, because she wasn't Lauren Tracy, and right at that moment he was anything but a corporate salesman from Ohio.
"Anytime." His cell phone went off again. She pulled away, but she didn't want to let go. She wasn't ready to feel alone again, not until she'd put her 'Lauren Tracy' self back on. Lauren Tracy could let go of her husband, because he was hers, and always would be, just like the vows they'd taken before a perfumed altar. But Elliot didn't belong to her anymore than the clothes on her back, and not having him would break her, she knew it.
Elliot pulled the cell phone to his ear, his eyes still on the back of her head. She looked so small beside him, so fragile. Daniel Tracy could comfort his wife, but Elliot could never be there for her like that. Hell, he wasn't even divorced yet. He was supposed to be comforting someone else, letting someone else rest on his shoulder. But Kathy hadn't touched him like that in about three years, and he knew she probably never would again.
"Hello?"
"El?" Oh god. It was Munch.
"What John?"
"Well, we have something to say to you."
"We?"
Fin snickered in the background.
"Hello Fin."
"How's it going, Elliot? You doing Olivia yet?"
"Excuse me?" He pulled the cell phone out of his ear, hoping speaker phone wasn't on. Olivia turned to him, casting her huge brown eyes on his hand. He shoved the phone back to his ear, turning around with a groan.
"Look El, you got three days to yourselves, and you got fake names. If I were you, I would start having my fun right about-"
"Much. Fin. What the hell are you two doing?" Cragen's voice was heard in the background. And it was not his happy voice.
"Ordering a pizza." Munch said quickly, and from the sounds of the cell phone had just stuffed the phone into his pocket.
"From Elliot?" Cragen's muffled voice still sounded pissed. Elliot hid a laugh.
"No, from the pizza place."
"And Elliot works there now?"
A guy named Elliot does- but not our Elliot."
"Right. Give me the phone."
"I don't know what I did with it!"
"It's in your pocket, John. Stop acting like a five-year-old and give me the phone."
"But Captain…"
"Give me the phone. You know you are absolutely not allowed to call someone when they are undercover, especially not to chat. Do you want to endanger our entire mission?"
"I have to pee!" Munch squealed, and from the sounds in the background, made a run out the door, other feet, probably Fin's following close behind. Elliot would have hung up, had he not wanted to hear Cragen kick their asses.
In a few seconds, Munch put his mouth to the phone again.
"Sorry El, you still there?"
"Unfortunately, yes."
"We made our break to the men's room."
"Which Cragen can still go in."
"We locked the door and pushed a chair under the knob."
"You guys are insane."
"We're cops. We know how to hole up for defense, right?"
"Do you have anything useful to say to me?"
"Of course we do. Unless you want your old buddy John to go broke, you will hop in that bed and-"
"Goodbye, boys." He folded the phone up, shaking his head. Morons…
Fin grabbed the phone from Munch's hand while slapping him beside the head. "You idiot! Now we'll never know who's right!"
"Look, I have 300 dollars on stake. I don't think I'm going to give up so easily. You think Cragen has any surveillance on those two?"
"Probably not."
"Yeah, he trusts them too much." Munch got an evil grin on his lips. "But we don't, do we?"
Fin shrugged, rolling out his eyes and pulling a twenty from his pocket. "I hope you're right. Twenty more dollars says they're in bed in two days."
"Three hundred and two says they're doing it by tonight." Munch said, giggling like a six year old and patting his wallet. "Prepare to lose it big, buddy."