apologies to everyone displeased with that last chapter. I haven't heard from any of you displeased ones yet, but if you're out there, lurking somewhere in the shadowy corners of an alley or sulking in the artificial glow of your computer screen, yeah. sorry. and sorry it took me a while for anything else. I went to Montreal this weekend, which, in case you are wondering (heavens knows why) was very very very fun. I love the French language, even if I take Spanish (not very seriously.) I mean, some attractive young male French-speaking Montreal resident (of which there are many) could come up to me, tell me the toilet was backed up, and I would still manage to take off my clothes. because it just sounds like sex.
and for everyone just generally dissatisfied with the bulk of that last chapter, you know my plight. I knew it was not going to be up to my normal par. but I dealt, unfortunately, and so there it is, the eyesore in the story. perhaps I'll go back and give it 'some meat on them bones' (and may bees sum tobaccee, yee-haw!), but until then, it's going to stand a skinny testament to writer's block.
I suppose this chapter is much better, at least in plot context. we start to come to terms with this whole relationship developing between Olivia and Elliot. we delve a bit further into the case, and finally figure out what the hell everyone back at the precinct has been doing. And next chapter will be a ball. Elliot's family makes their due appearance and I attempt to prove that Kathy does not always have to be portrayed as a bitch.
this is because most OE fanfic writers are under the impression that Kathy, the main obstacle standing between "the chosen ones", must be evil evil evil and a completely horrible woman-beast-thing. attacking Olivia, beating her kids, raping her husband, etc. well folks, divorce is not just for evil people anymore. yeah, we live in the 21st century. half of the population is divorced. it's completely normal and always difficult for everybody involved, and we shouldn't go around making Kathy the evil bitch just because she divorces Elliot. it definitely wasn't easy for her and the kids either, and I don't think she hates Olivia with a burning passion. maybe there is a touch of envy there, but no bloodthirsty bitch-slapping hatred.
off my soap box now. for those of you sick of my fanfic-writing-criticisms, you can just sit there and stare politely at an awkward point on my body.
am I the only person not looking forward to Conviction on Fridays? I'm sorry, it just totally strikes me as a Grey's Anatomy for DA's, and Dick Wolf has recycled law stuff enough that we are probably going to find it very familiar territory. and unless they start putting some meat on Alex's character, I'm not even interested in storylines involving her. don't get me wrong: I heart Alex. she can dress. Casey cannot. and she gets it done. all the time. but she isn't really unique. her character is pretty (to quote EW) cookie-cutter. there was that whole ep where she came back and went all 'life is rough in the WPA and I sleep with men who don't know my name boohoo' but I was so 'whoa…OE thingy…becoming…confuzzling…whazzit now?' I didn't care. maybe if she was struggling to raise a kid (like her dead or druggie sister's kid or something) and having an affair with a married DA I'd be like 'YES! NOW WILL WATCH SHOW FOREVER!' but until then, then interest wavers.
but the raising child and having affair…(fanfic knobs in head begin to turn) hmmmm…maybe 'our friend Dickie' needs to hear about this.
(goes off to plan another Dick Wolf office raid)
enjoy a (finally) meaty chapter!
"Well, how do you think James Bond and Pussy Galore are doing?"
Fin choked on his doughnut. "That's a good one, man…James and Pussy…" He continued to chuckle, filling up his coffee as he did so. "We'll know at ten, won't we?"
"Yup," Munch took a seat at his desk, fingering the wallet in his pocket. "And won't they be happy to see what happens when you go on vacation?" He nodded at the foot-high stacks of paperwork sitting idly on the twin desks of their coworkers. "I'm not touchin' it."
"Don't look at me. I'm not touchin' it."
"Guess Stabler can do it."
"Why can't Olivia do it?"
"Because Olivia always makes Elliot do her paperwork, dumbass. Honestly, do you ever let your attention wander?"
"Depends on how low her shirt is."
"Sometimes very low."
"Very low."
They exchanged knowing grins.
"What are you morons talking about?" Cragen was standing above them, frowning down from atop the stack of files in his arms.
"Gas prices." Munch said quickly, removing his feet from the desk.
Cragen raised an eyebrow. "Where do you get your gas?" He dropped the files on their desks. "Don't answer that question- I do NOT want to know. I need you two to finish these for Benson and Stabler."
"They're gonna be here in just a few hours, captain!" Fin whined, staring loathingly at the paperwork before him. "Really, do they deserve vacation AND slave labor?"
"We've been over this, Fin. Undercover assignments are anything but vacations."
"Yuh-huh." Fin rolled his eyes. "Let's give them an excuse to sleep together- that sounds like a great assignment."
Cragen's eyes widened like flashbulbs. "Excuse me?"
Fin shrunk in his chair. "I mean, they're great for the assignment. Very serious and business-like. That's Benson and Stabler."
Cragen raised an eyebrow. "I should think so…" He gave Fin one last skeptical glance before stalking away. "Benson and Stabler…sleeping together?" He muttered to himself as he opened the door to his office, pausing momentarily. "Odd…but plausible."
Mental note: keep close eye on those two, and don't let them into any locked rooms together unless there are two way mirrors.
Fin turned back to his partner, taking another sip of his coffee. "If we ever go on special assignment, there is no way we're sharing a bed- got it?"
…
Coffee. She smelled coffee. It smelled like paradise.
Sunlight. It was everywhere- covering the sheets, spilling onto her bare arms. She felt it on her face and smiled at the warmth.
She climbed from the blankets, pushing the comforter from her body and stretching as she stood. The day begins…
And I am loved.
She stood in the doorway, admiring his form at the counter, his strong back turned to her. She watched the muscles flexing beneath a worn tank top, a hand reaching out to pour another cup of coffee, turn the page of the newspaper. Like he'd always been there, every morning, his presence greeting her the same.
She thought maybe she'd had a dream like this once.
"Hey," She settled down beside him, her mouth carefully turning over a smile.
"Good morning," He grinned back, pushing a cup of coffee her way.
She took a sip. "This is nice."
"Hazelnut."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, there's French Vanilla too, if you want that."
"No…hazelnut is fine." She stared at him, their eyes meeting and immediately locking. So how did you start a conversation with someone like this?
"I made toast, too."
"That sounds good."
"Yeah…" He handed her a plate, flipping two pieces of toast onto the porcelain surface before smothering them in jelly.
"Thanks…"
This is weird.
But it is the best kind of weird I have ever felt.
"Did you pack?"
"I'm almost done."
"Good." He rubbed the back of his neck, seeming uncomfortable. "You ready to go back?"
"Not really." She said, shrugging slowly. "Do you think…do you think this will all pass over?"
"What?"
"This." She pointed to herself, her other palm resting on the firm muscles in his chest. "Whatever is happening between us."
"So you remember…" He laughed to himself, his voice a bit softer, though playful. "Well, that's great."
"How am I supposed to forget that?"
"No, no, I'm not saying…it's not a bad thing…it's just…how do we deal with this?"
"I don't know."
"And how do we go back like this? It's not…" But she knew he could not say it here. Not when they were like this. Not when life was feeling so perfect.
"I don't know."
"Liv."
"Mm-hmm?"
"What do we do next?"
She took his hand in hers and held it to her cheek. His eyes calmed, his face suddenly awash in peace. "I don't know, El. But I know that whatever comes next, I hope it goes our way."
"Me too."
She stared at his face, so perfect…happy, and yet…sad. Did he feel it too? Perfect as it was, could it last? Could paradise truly be eternal? Or was it to be lost like all the rest before it?
"If it doesn't work out for us, I won't forget what's already happened." She said it to assure herself, to tell her inner conscience to remember that night forever. Yet he was nodding too, softly and slowly.
"When we go back, do we act normal? We'll just…just act like nothing's happened, right?"
"Yeah…" She nodded, smiling. "We don't have to let anyone know until we know. I mean…I don't even understand what's going on here…"
"Maybe it's…"
"What?"
"Maybe this is…well…" He took a deep breath. "Maybe this is love, Liv."
She nodded, turning away. Oh god, if you say it THAT way…
Yes. Love.
I love you. And you love me. It works.
And yet it doesn't. How could it?
"Well, we'll see what happens, okay?"
"Okay." He squeezed her hand, then let go. She felt the tension in her body relieve when the embrace was released, yet another part of her dying out, like a flame extinguishing.
Oh god, Elliot. I can't live with you.
I can't live without you.
"Did Cragen call?"
"Not yet. But when he does, we're getting out of here. Back to urban reality, unfortunately."
"Always fun." She laughed, taking a bite of toast. "I want to come back here someday. It's really beautiful up here, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is." But he was staring at her, and she wondered what part of the landscape he was talking about.
"All the trees…with the snow on them…"
"Very tall…"
"And the mountains…"
"Perfectly shaped…" He moved closer, leaning in. She felt the heat rising in her cheeks, flushing her face.
"And…" She said, her voice barely a whisper, "It can be very quiet up here. Sort of lonely, really."
"Not where I'm sitting." He grabbed her neck, pulling her forward. He caught her lips in a kiss, long and steady. She melted in his grip, allowing her mouth to reform itself around his, nearly dying in the ecstasy of the feeling.
His cell phone went off. He ignored it at first, cupping her cheeks with long and lean hands as her own mouth began to clamp onto his bottom lip, pulling it towards her as his eyes closed in bliss.
Yet the cell phone continued to ring even when they earnestly ignored it, so he pulled away, and she released her grip on his shoulders.
"That will be the captain." She whispered, her forehead touching his.
"I know." He whispered back, their eyes locked.
"Answer it."
"I will." He pulled out the cell phone and opened it up, clearing his throat. "Hello?"
She watched him carefully, the expressions in his eyes, cheekbones. She could read him like a book.
"Really?" He was relieved, thankful. The tension in his forehead was gone. "That's good. We'll be home shortly. Yeah, we're leaving now. I'll call when we're on the road."
He hung up, turning back to her. "Captain says to come home. There's no problems- we're clear."
"So we are the Tracy's no more." She grinned at him, wrapping him in a warm embrace. "We did it. We're safe!"
"Yeah," Elliot whispered as he grinned into her shoulder. "You're safe."
…
Cragen adjusted the blinds on his office windows, staring out at Fin and Munch, laughing as they did their paperwork. Goddammit! I hate it when they know something I don't know!
Even Huang was picking up on something. "Special assignment?" He'd raised his eyebrow when he'd found out about Benson and Stabler's absence. "So they're going away?"
"Yes."
"Alone?"
"Yes…" Cragen frowned. "Was that a bad choice?"
Huang's confusion was wiped away by a quick grin though, and he laughed as he stirred his coffee. "No, no. Not bad at all. I was just …surprised. They went away on short notice, didn't they?"
"Well, yeah. Why not?" And he'd been left there to sit stirring his coffee in puzzlement as Huang wandered back to his office downtown, his temper stewing silently in the dark pit of his stomach.
So now he was filling out paperwork, still thinking about the damn thing. He considered himself the fatherly figure in this precinct. If anything was going on, daddy knew about it.
Or did he?
The long nights are finally getting to me.
And Christ, this case was hard.
No leads. None.
No criminals had ever done anything similar to this before, at least not in this quantity. There was one perp who had done in two women on their honeymoon nights, but that had been by coincidence. He'd planned on hitting up some girls he'd seen from the hotel pool, but had stumbled drunk onto these two in the hotel's bar instead. He'd raped them, but he'd only killed them out of fright when they screamed. He hadn't been sober enough or smart enough to plan as far ahead as this perp had.
The phone rang. It was Forensics.
He drove down to the lab. He did NOT leave Munch and Fin in charge.
"We've got something very interesting here." One of the younger techs said, on staff that day.
"And it took you this long to find it?"
"We had to wait for the body temperature to cool again before we could perform the tests, but we got the results we needed."
"Please tell me you got the guy's identification."
"Not quite. But we have something that might help."
Cragen bit his lip in frustration. Just tell me, damn it! "Which is…?"
The tech handed him a set of numerical readings, each specifically colored according to sequence.
"It looks like a DNA reading." His heart lightened for a moment.
"Not exactly. This is the chemical code for phydoseptine."
"Doesn't ring a bell."
"When a normal person takes sleeping medication, the body releases a certain amount of hormones into the bloodstream along with the medication, sort of like a back-up protection system in case the medication goes haywire."
"So this proves he overdosed."
"Not only that, but it also proves he was on hormone therapy already."
"What?" Cragen blinked at the chart. As usual it is still all Greek to me.
"Phydoseptine should not have been released with the hormones for the overdose, which means it was already there, present in massive quantities in the bloodstream."
"What kind of hormone therapy are we talking here?"
"Estrogen."
"So he was trying to address a man problem with extra sex hormones? Not unheard of."
"If you're using phydoseptine, you're not out to fix ED. You're trying to change genders."
Cragen blinked at the young tech, looking very excited about his discovery. "So we're supposed to find the perp easier because the man was a he-she?"
"Well…" The tech frowned, thinking and struggling with his words, his bubble obviously burst. "I just thought…maybe it would mean…"
"No, I suppose it works. I mean, it IS a bit suspicious for a grieving widower to start changing his sex."
"It could be stress." The tech offered, trying to make up for his earlier stumbling.
"Not likely. You've done well." He shook the tech's hand, heading for the door. "This will definitely open some windows."
In a way he doubted that. But as he met the chill winds blowing down the sidewalk, he could care less about anything but the distance between the door and his car.