oh man. I am soooo excited to get going on this story. I was sitting in Spanish today (taking the practice regents actually, which shows how much I pay attention in the damn class) and this totally awesome idea hit me. and then I was in math, wondering what the hell we learn imaginary numbers for, and another great idea hit me. and then I was in history, being all-charming-like so I could get a candy bar from Matt for free, which I did because I am just so all-charming-like, and this idea knocks me over.

so you could say for once in my life, school kind of came in handy.

yes, yes, yes, everyone thinking 'oh nuuuuu! there was just no OE in that chapter and if there is just no OE in that chapter what am I going to do with myself?' well, I know. the fact of the matter is if this was a straight romance, it would only be listed as a romance. but there's a slash there. it's also mystery (which is retarded, but I couldn't choose between that and suspense and mystery won out because at that point I didn't think it would be very suspenseful, which I realize now was not the right decision) so it's time for the mystery. and come on people, I pretty much OE'd the damn circus out of town with those last couple of chapters. a sex scene is pretty much as OE as you can get. the only thing missing was some illegitimate conception and then you've got the whole shaboozle.

illegitimate conception…hmmm…not a bad idea.

(you need to understand my obsession with bastards. when I figured out what a bastard was, I continually asked my parents if I was one, or at least a child of wedlock. and my mom was like: 'kate. we were married three years before we had you. how the heck could you be a bastard?' burst my freaking bubble. all because I wanted to be, sniff, different. because bastards are cool. DAMN cool. I'm still holding out for the milkman theory, even though my mom and dad both insist we have never actually had a milkman. or a garbageman. and the postman is a woman. goddamn it all! my rotten luck!)

at any rate, the story is going to be a lot more thriller and a tiny bit less fluffy smuffy luffy goodness. EMPHASIS ON TINY. just so half of you don't throw in the towel and go 'the frick is this shit, kate? I WANT MY OE-NESS!' I'll still have them sleep together. and kiss and be all angsty-wangsty and 'our love life is SOOO difficult, blah blah blah.' and 'raw honest sexual tension explosion.'

and confusion is kind of normal. I'm twisting the plot here and there, so prepare to go 'huzzat?' a few times. going 'huzzat?' is good. it means you will become even more engrossed than before! (I hope)

so don't touch that remote. don't change the channel. the real fun is about to begin and the suspense is going to start getting worse and by the end of this story I guarantee you will be so freaking shocked you will not know what the hell hit you.

except maybe this annoying fly that is in the corner of my room, because if he keeps buzzing and irritating the hell out of me, I will probably curse him to one of you unlucky people's home.

oh my god I had soft ice cream this weekend and it was the most amazing thing. you know how some things just put you in the greatest moods? well, that did it. so I am going to keep some serious loving in this fic just for the sake of the chocolate whipped amazement.

at any rate, enjoy it all-loverly ones of all-loverlyness-supreme!

…

He watched her in the way only a lover could watch her, detecting the passion beside the pain, the angst beside the heartache. Her fingers ran absently through her hair, her eyes cold and blank when they stared down at the paperwork before her in earnest frustration. She was so much more open with him lately; the things she'd once tried to hide, the emotions she never spoken of…they were here in honest brutality, staring him in the face and crying out for help.

"Liv…" Her name rolled off his tongue like warm honey, sweet to the taste and satisfying to the soul.

She looked up, revealing more in her eyes than perhaps she had intended. She blinked the pain away, giving him a small smile. "What?"

"You alright?"

"Yeah…" She let out a long breath, massaging her temples. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Cragen's already got guys outside your apartment. And there's going to be someone with you all the time until this is over." He took her hand, rubbing her fingers with his own. "Hey. It's going to be alright, okay?"

"I know." She smiled at him again, blinking back what seemed to be a lone tear. "I just…I wish I knew what it was we're getting into."

"Yeah," He let out a deep breath himself, leaning back in his chair and releasing her hand. Munch was standing at the door, giving them a curious look as he sipped his coffee. "I know how you feel. But it will all be over soon, and then we can forget about the Tracy's."

She bit her lip. "You seem so sure…"

"Because I am." He smiled warmly, taking her hand once more and squeezing it tightly. "Don't worry, Liv."

She smiled, wider this time he noticed, and turned back to her paperwork. "A cup of coffee would be nice right now." She murmured thoughtfully, though looking as though she had no intention of getting up and fixing herself some.

"Cream and sugar?" He rolled his eyes, standing up.

"As always, El."

He walked over to the coffee machine, giving her a glance over his shoulder as he pulled her mug from the stand, handle chipped and sides worn from use.

"So how long have you two been sleeping together?"

Elliot jumped, nearly dropping the coffee mug and its contents.

"Christ Munch, don't do that." He scowled over at the man beside him, whose eyebrow was now raised. "Give some warning before you go sneaking up on people with hot liquid in their hands."

"How long, El?"

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about…"

"Hey, do not give me that. You've been checking out her ass for years and all of a sudden you don't have interest."

"What?" Elliot hissed as Munch pulled him outside, coffee and all. The door shut behind them.

"Well, if you don't need to stare longingly at her ass anymore I would say you've gotten a taste, right? So why stare longingly when you got to see it bare and-"

"Whoa, enough Munch-"

"And that look? The looks you were giving her, the ones she gave you? Sex stare, Elliot."

"That is not a sex stare."

"Trust me, that is a genuine sex stare."

"Munch, you wouldn't know a sex stare because you've never gotten the chance to use one."

Munch rolled his eyes. "Don't go insulting me when the ball's in your corner, El. You two are totally sleeping together."

"And if we were?"

"So you are?"

"I never said that!"

"You implied it."

"John, you are completely out of line."

"Look El, you've been walking around like the guy who just got his all day. I know the satisfied 'I-got-sex' look."

"Munch, I'm starting to think you don't know anything." He pulled out of his grip, making for the door again. "After everything we've been through today, I am completely okay with punching your face in, understand?"

"I'm not going to tell, Elliot."

"So why do you want to know?"

Munch raised his eyebrows. "Because you've been away for a few days. Because I'm a need-to-know kind of guy. And because a lot of things happen undercover that are…say…undercover."

"Munch, there are days when I doubt your sanity." He paused. "Never mind, I think that's everyday." He shook his head, letting out a sigh. "Look, if Liv and I want to let the world know about our relationship, you'll be the first to hear, okay?"

Munch's grin widened. "You got laid! You totally got laid!" He started laughing maniacally as he walked back into the precinct. "I knew it!"

"What was that about?" Olivia asked as Elliot sat back down, shaking his head and handing her the coffee.

"Just a little misunderstanding," He said quickly, hiding his face in his files. "So, you think they're done looking over the house yet? Lab autopsies are probably coming back soon, too…"

Olivia ignored him, looking over his shoulder. "Elliot, what did you just tell Munch?"

"I didn't tell him anything. He just had a question, and I straightened him out. Why?"

"Because Fin just handed Munch about two hundred dollars and started giving me death glares."

Elliot drew in a sharp breath, drumming his fingers against the desktop. "Oh, they're just gambling. You know how that goes: Fin loses, Fin gets mad, Munch gets his ass kicked. He'll be massaging his seat in just a while here, you'll see…"

"Elliot." Her voice was suddenly hard, and she narrowed his eyes. "Does anyone else know about…"

"No," He shook his head quickly. "I haven't told a soul."

"Oh…" She let out a sigh, looking relieved. "That's good. I was…I was afraid that…"

"Munch wouldn't know sex if it came up and bit off his testicles."

She made a face. "That's some analogy." She smirked at him. "Thanks for the coffee."

"Anytime…"

He grinned back. It was so nice to see her smiling again, to see that light in her eyes that seemed to fill the room with her presence. To see something more than rain in the skies that opened up whenever he caught her glance.

…

It was strange, entering this house she'd been in only hours before. Now it was filled with activity; there were two men in the door, another two in the room where she'd stared out the window. She passed by the grandfather clock that had chimed before the gunshots, and could not help but shudder, remembering the vision of Elliot that had run through her head at the sound of the first shot.

It was always horrible, thinking of your partner with a bullet in his brain.

It was beyond agony to picture your lover there instead.

She brushed up against his arm as they walked in, her hand almost reaching up to lock beneath his shoulder, to cling desperately to the one thing she knew was strong. The one thing she could depend on.

The owners of the house were Mr. and Mrs. Russell, a man and woman not much older than herself, were standing in the kitchen, arms folded in front of their chests. Both looked irked by the population of police now searching their home, and neither looked very happy to see Olivia and Elliot approaching.

"When are they leaving?" The woman asked, twitching her long eyelashes nervously over bright blue eyes. She was an attractive woman for her age, certainly in her mid to late thirties. Olivia had seen the rest of the house- these people were definitely loaded, and the clothing on the owners proved it. "We're having a dinner party in two hours, and if they leave the house in this condition-"

"You might want to cancel this evening's plans." Elliot said quietly, giving her a stern glance. "I don't know if you heard about this morning-"

"We've been at the Vineyard all week- we just got back a half hour ago and found you people crawling around our living room." The woman replied curtly, frowning at him. "Whatever this is about-"

"It was gang violence, wasn't it?" Her husband asked, his eyes narrowing beneath his glasses. "Our neighbors mentioned a shooting; that sort of thing never happens around here, not since we've moved in at least. But I guess when a gang moves into new territory…"

"How long have you lived here?"

"About four years. We used to live above my office on Wall Street, but then I started teaching business at NYU and the house was offered to me by the staff administration."

"We gave up a pent house for the Shootout Corral." His wife rolled her eyes. "Great." She spotted one of the guys from CS going through the hall closet. "Careful!" She said, her eyebrows raised in terror as they removed a pair of stilettos. "Those are Gucci, and cost more than you make in a year, sir." She gave the man a discerning frown and then turned to Olivia. "So when are they leaving?"

"Do you understand what happened, Mrs. Russell? Three men were shot outside of your door, and one of them had the access code to your home." Olivia stared at the woman, who still did not seem to get it, as she was currently eyeing the man coming up from her wine cellar with a suspicious glare. "This house is not safe as far as the NYPD is concerned."

"Someone had our lock code?" The man blinked, his eyes widening. "And he was shot? Outside my door?"

"Under the Washington Monument to be exact," Elliot nodded. "Do you know this man?" He held up the photograph of the young man's body, his face grey and pasty where he had lain upon the autopsy table, dead eyes closed and mouth pulled back into an untruthful smile. He wasn't smiling when he died.

"Oh my god," Mr. Russell blinked again, covering his mouth with a reluctant hand. "Jonathan Bates. He's…he's a grad student. He's been in my world trade class for two years- really promising. I just…I don't…I don't understand…"

"Did you at any time give him your lock's access code?"

Mr. Russell shook his head. "Never. The only ones who know that code are my wife and myself."

Olivia gave the man a careful examination. "Mr. Russell, did Jonathan ever visit you? Did he ever come over for dinner, or stop by to talk with you?"

"No. We talked after class many times, but always on campus."

"Did Jonathan know where you lived?"

"He knew I lived near the college, but I don't think he knew my exact street or number."

"Is it possible that Jonathan stalked you or attempted to gain access some other way?"

"No…this is…this was Jonathan." The man let out a short breath, trying to collect himself. "Jonathan Bates was one of the best students I've ever had. A bit different perhaps, but never in a hostile or unfriendly way. I can't imagine him being the victim of anything more than an accidental shooting. I can't see any way he'd be connected in something like this."

Elliot nodded. "Well, that's all we need for now. We'll contact you if we have anymore questions."

"Um, excuse me?" Mrs. Russell grabbed Elliot's shoulder, pulling him back. "And when are they done?" She nodded at the CS workers now taking apart the lock system.

Elliot gave the woman a wide smile. "Mrs. Russell, someone broke into your house. We have to be absolutely sure you're safe tonight."

Her eyes widened in horror. "Someone broke in? Did they take anything? Do you know who did it?"

"I did." Olivia said quickly, then followed her partner out the door, leaving Mrs. Russell to stare in frustration at the men now drilling a hole through her living room wall.

…

"Jonathan Bates." Munch pulled up a familiar face on his computer screen. "There's our Benedict Arnold."

Olivia stared over his shoulder at the man smiling back at her, his eyes half-closed for his license photograph. "He's in the system?"

"He didn't pay a parking ticket for two years." Munch whistled. "Over a thousand dollars in fines, just from leaving his car in a Jersey storage facility. Bet that sucked."

Elliot appeared beside her. "Anything else about him?"

"Just where he lived." Munch printed out the address and handed it to Elliot. "Since you're heading back down to the Village, do you think you could pick up this record for me at-"

"No, Munch." Olivia rolled her eyes and pulled on her jacket. Elliot followed behind her, his hand brushing against her back as they headed out the door. She leaned back to prolong the motion, and felt his hand on the small of the back all the way down the stairs.

She smiled.

…

Olivia and Elliot stepped into the dorm room, which was fairly typical for two male college students. Discarded clothing lay on the backs of a few chairs, and the kitchen resembled a minefield. Jonathan's roommate Adam Gilmore showed them to the bedroom the two boys shared, indicating the bed on the right as Jonathan's.

"Jonathan's not here." Adam said, frowning. "I just got back today, and he wasn't home. I don't know where he is, but his Middle East Economics professor called, and he didn't sound happy. Jon never misses a term paper."

Olivia and Elliot exchanged glances. Olivia took a deep breath. "Adam, Jonathan was shot outside of school this morning."

Adam turned slowly, his eyes wide as his fingers ran absently through his messy brown locks. "He's…he's dead?"

Olivia nodded. "That's why we're here. We're trying to find the person who did this to him."

"Oh god…I…" Adam collapsed into the nearest chair, staring at the wall. "I thought this was about his sister. Sometimes…sometimes they'd…"

"What about his sister?" Elliot asked, his eyes narrowing. Olivia rested a hand on his shoulder, hoping he wouldn't push him, but Elliot ignored the gesture.

"Well, Jonathan's sister got into some trouble a while back...maybe a month ago, I'd say. They come from a good family, and the Bates are pretty well-off….houses in Nantucket and London and all that, besides the penthouse uptown. His dad's in charge of World Batesman; I guess Jonathan's like him- good with businesses and people and all. But his sister Katrina, she was…she was always getting into something. He has three sisters: Katrina and Hannah and…I can't remember the other one's name. Maybe it was Veronica or Vana or something like that..." He rubbed his eye in frustration, breathing in sharply.

"It's alright." Olivia said, nodding slowly.

"Anyway, Katrina…she's his twin. She went to Vassar for a year, but she dropped out and moved to the city, to be closer to Jonathan, I think. Jonathan said her parents stopped talking to her, dropped her from inheritance, the whole deal. Jonathan's the only one who stuck by her. He said it wasn't her fault; he talked about her old boyfriend, something he did to her. Cheated on her, I imagine, but he never said for sure. He was actually going to have her over tonight but…" Adam took another deep breath. "God, this is so fucked up."

"I know," Olivia said, giving him a warm smile. "But you're doing great. If you don't feel like talking today, you can come to the station later. Take it at your own pace, Adam."

"No, I'd better…there's a lot more." He blinked, turning to them as if seeing them for the first time. "Jonathan had a girlfriend, and he was really weird about her. He never brought her back here, and I never saw her with him on campus. He said she didn't go here, and he used to talk about her going to a state school at one point. But I don't believe him. He said something about her once…how she wasn't making him happy. How she broke his heart. But he stuck with her, and he didn't complain about her again. I used to think it was weird, how I never saw her, but I guess she was older and Jonathan felt strange about bringing her back to campus. I…I think maybe she was married, and he was having an affair with her."

"Did Jonathan ever give you any names?"

Adam shook his head. "He referred to her as 'she' or 'her.' And sometimes 'my girlfriend.' But he was so careful about her name; he never slipped up. He never told me. He told some of the other guys about her, but I know he never mentioned a name to them either. They used to ask me about her- what she looked like, if she was hot. And I told them I didn't know either."

"Do you have Katrina's address?" Elliot asked, his eyes roaming over the clutter of post-it's on the refrigerator.

"Sure." Adam got up and selected a yellow sheet from beside the counter. "Jonathan was always writing on it when she called. I don't know what it means," He indicated the jumble of random words across the front. "But he was always pretty excited when he wrote them down."

"That's different," Elliot said quietly, staring blankly at the paper. Olivia peered over his shoulder, frowning at the words scribble beside a typed address and phone number.

"None of those make any sense." She said, taking the paper from her partner's hand.

"Jonathan liked puzzles." Adam said blankly from where he stood, staring with shadowed eyes at the paper his roommate had once written on. "He always had one he was working on; never put it down, even for dinner. He was different like that…he had little things he did, things he said. It never bothered me, but some other people thought he was strange. Maybe that thing is just a puzzle of his." He nodded at the sheet. "But then again, everything's so fucked up right now…"

"Thank you, Adam. If you need anything, give us a call." Olivia handed him her card, tucking the sheet in her pocket. Adam remained seated as they left, not even giving them a glance as they stepped out the door.

"So fucked up…" He whispered, to no one and to everyone.