yes, there is justice on this planet. (and not just on SVU!)
I, Kate the well-versed and rather-sexeh author, have come to the decision that this story can be held off no further. saucy and overbold, beldams as you are, you have dared to ask for more. and in my weakness, I solemnly swear (I am up to no good) to give you more. more you shall have. you shall have more. shall have you more. you more shall have.
alrightee, my insanity just went out the fricking window. AGAIN. (shuts window)
and now it's going out the door. convenient, eh?
wow, having way too much fun getting textures for my PS right now.
Frank Sinatra makes the world much prettier. just saying…
so without further ado, the chapter of promised goodness. it's short. it's sweet. and there's action. because bloodstains are a girl's best friend. (shudders at lack of sanity right now)
love to you all.
…
She checked her watch, shivering at the wind that was tearing across the street, biting at the tips of her uncovered ears and sending a chill down her already fragile spine. Where the fuck was spring when you needed it?
The voice in her eardrum was calm, collected; she took a deep breath as it spoke to her, reminding her why she was here. She pulled a cell phone to her other ear, almost smiling at the voice on the other end.
"Steady, Liv. He's coming soon." Her partner breathed into the phone as though blowing her a kiss, and for a moment she thought she felt the skin of her cheek tingle when his wish met her. "Steady, Liv."
She let herself rest against the wall of the arch, her eyes looking out over the slow-moving inhabitants of the park: college students crowded around their cups of coffee, scarf-clad residents squinting against the wind. A number of people were watching their dogs play together in a pen, laughing when the smaller ones chased the German Shepard that did not want anything to do with them. It let out a warning bark, a noise that echoed across the square and left a haunting note in her aching ears. More laughter followed. The world was a cruel place.
A couple walked by, swinging a tiny girl between them. The girl gave Olivia a small smile, open and friendly, but her parents paid her no heed. Olivia scanned them over, waiting for the stranger's face to appear from within one of these people's overcoats.
But he wasn't here.
Yet.
She pretended to check her watch again, but she was only looking behind her at the familiar figure walking the dog near the pen. He saw her watching him and gave her a small smile, and she had to stop herself before grinning back. No matter what, Elliot had her back.
"Head's up," She heard the voice in her ear again, and she put down the cell phone. There was a man standing across from her, scarf wrapped over his mouth, sunglasses obstructing his eyes. If it wasn't a bright day out he would have looked odd, but on a blustery day like this he was no longer out of place.
"Lauren Tracy," He held out a hand. She did not take it, wondering if something was concealed in the palm of his glove, waiting to prick her skin and extend an unwelcome substance into her system.
"What is this about?"
"I don't have much time." He moved closer, and she shivered again, though the wind was no longer in her face. "When I give the word, you need to go across the street and enter the building with the red door." He nodded to an expensive looking brownstone across the way. "This is the lock's code." He handed her a crumple piece of paper, and she took it unwillingly into her pocket. "Get inside and stay away from the windows. Don't open the door again until it's over."
"Until what is over?"
"I don't have much time." He repeated, his voice lower. "This is what you need to know, and only you. He has his eye on you. And as long as he knows who you are, you are in danger. Can you afford protection?"
"Who are you talking about?"
"Can you afford it? Bodyguards? Cops? Anyone?"
"Why do I need them?"
"It doesn't matter right now. What matters is that you can keep him out."
"Who are you talking about?" She repeated, her voice more insistent. She was not finding this very productive at all. If anything she was more confused than before.
"You have to keep him out. And you can't trust anyone. If he tells them to go through with it, they will. They'll make your life more miserable than you could possibly imagine."
"I don't understand…"
"You don't have to. Just remember- he won't kill you. He knows about things much worse than death."
"Can you-"
The man's head suddenly shot to the right. She followed his gaze, but saw no one.
"They're here." He said, taking her arm. "Walk slowly. Get inside and get down, do you understand?"
She nodded.
"I am sorry, Mrs. Tracy. I really am. I don't know if someone else will contact you. I do not have the confidence of friends anymore." He pulled off the sunglasses, the scarf. He was no one she knew, no one that would stand out on the streets. His eyes were a deep green, sad and solemn. His mouth was ringed with stubble, his brown hair falling across thick eyebrows. She almost gasped when she saw how young he was, barely out of his teenage years. "You have to leave now."
"I…"
"Now, Mrs. Tracy."
She walked across the street, heart thumping helplessly against her ribcage. She had understood very little of what he had said, understood very little of how she felt. Her mind was racing as she ascended the steps, hands shaking violently as she turned to the keypad beside the door, removing the paper from her pocket.
"Liv? Liv, what's going on?" Elliot's voice rang in her ear. "Liv? What's going on?"
"Get out of there, El." She whispered, sending a glance over her shoulder. The young man stood in the center beneath the arch, back to her. The scarf fell limply beside his leg, the breeze catching it and blowing it to the east. He let it go, and it blew across the square, a red snake struggling helplessly against the invisible current.
"What do you mean?" Elliot asked again. "Liv, talk to me. What the hell is going on?"
"Get out of there, El. Tell Fin to get away from the corner. Something's…I don't know." 6749003. She typed into the keypad, listening to the friendly beep and the click of the door unlocking beneath her hand. "Just get yourselves out."
She stepped into the house, gaping up at the fully furnished hallway, the grandfather clock chiming solemnly beside her. What the hell was she doing, anyway?
"Liv? I don't-"
And then she heard it. A gunshot ripped through the silence of the room, echoing from the square where it had been fired.
"EL!" She cried his name, running to the nearest window. People were screaming, the crowd beside the dog pen dispersing and the pedestrians dropping coffee and bags as they ran out of the way, terror in their eyes. "ELLIOT!"
She ran back to the door, nearly tearing it open and racing down the stairs.
Another shot. And another. And another.
And another.
She couldn't make out the figures left in the square. There were two on the ground, and three more standing, one of them running for the cover of a tree. She pulled the gun from her jacket, sprinting across the street where the cars had screeched to a halt. The screams continued.
Another shot.
The figure straight ahead of her fell to the ground. She dove for the cover of the archway wall, pulling her gun to her chest, staring over her shoulder and screaming the name again.
Someone grabbed her shoulder, pulling her away from the wall. She cried out, swinging her elbow at their face. She raised the butt of her gun over her head, ready to strike when the person moaned with pain but did not let go.
"Liv…" The face groaned, and she saw with anguish it was that of her partner, holding his bleeding nose and turning pale.
"Oh Christ!" She grabbed him with both arms, her gun dropping to the ground. "Oh Christ…I'm so sorry, El."
"'s'okay." He whispered, massaging his face again. He held his sleeve to the steady stream of blood flowing from his nostrils, and she winced at the dark bruise around his left eye.
"I can't believe I…"
"Not a big deal." He shrugged, giving her a small smile. "Happens all the time."
Her head whipped over her shoulder as she stared at the two figures now kneeling over one of the bodies, calling her name.
"I'm alright." She said, walking towards Fin and Munch, now bent over the figure lying facedown on the pavement, blood pooling out past their shoes. "Did you see what happened?"
"This guy got out of a car over on the other side of the square. Pulled a gun and called your informer a 'sick mother-fucker.' Took two damn shots to bring him down." Munch said, standing up. "Good aim, Odafin."
Fin rolled his eyes. "Next thing you know, someone else is running across the square. Big black thug- pulls a gun out and takes a shot at my head. Shit for aim, that guy."
"They saw you, Olivia." Munch nodded at her. "The guy saw you in the window, and started running towards you, gun straight ahead. Elliot brought him down."
Olivia stared at the other corpse, gun lying next to him where he lay against the ground. They knew I'd be in the house? Or did they just know my face?
Who the hell did this?
"What about the informer? Where is he?"
"First guy shot him through the forehead." Elliot said, his voice low behind her. She turned to face him, then met his eyes when he nodded at the body farthest away. "Didn't even struggle when the guy started playing with him. Just stood there and took the shot. He was unarmed, too."
Her eyes remained on the body of the boy, stray leaves resting against the collar of his jacket. She didn't even shudder when she saw the pieces of his skull and brain splattered on the pavement beside him, flecking like an eerie graffiti against the inside of the archway.
A blood red scarf suddenly blew up against her legs, flapping wildly in the wind, but caught on her calves. She looked down at it for a moment, remembering the one who had worn it.
I'm endangering us all.