A/N: Muse of mine has informed me that we're going to learn a little more about the Baltimore connection in the next few chapters, so hopefully it decides not to get too out of hand, and...that's about it for now. Oh, one more thing: points if you pick up on the references to "Charm Bracelets".

A knock on the car window made Elliot jump; he looked out and saw Erin standing there now with a half-amused, half-worried expression on her face.

"Thought I saw you drive up," she said, when he pushed the car door open. "How long have you been here?"

"Not long," Elliot replied. "I know it's getting late, but I didn't...well, I didn't want to be at home."

"What, this place isn't like home?" Erin asked mildly. "It's only 9:30, Elliot, that's not exactly what I'd call late."

"Not with the hours you keep," said Elliot, shaking his head at her as he got out of the car and went around to the back. "Is Bryan home?"

"Yeah, he's here. Probably slamming things around in the kitchen; he's not too happy with Rick Williamson right now," Erin replied. "Come on inside, it's starting to rain."

Elliot shifted Eli in his arms and pushed the back car door closed with his foot before following her into the house. Sure enough, as soon as the front door closed behind them, the sound of a cupboard door slamming closed came from the kitchen.

"Have you eaten yet?" Erin asked. Elliot shook his head.

"Not yet. I gave Eli a bottle; he was asleep before you came and knocked on the window."

"He'll go back to sleep." Erin started towards the kitchen, an exasperated look crossing her face as another cupboard door slammed. "Bryan, you're going to break those doors, love."

"Better the doors than Williamson's face," Bryan replied, irritably. "I can't believe he'd even suggest the idea that Manhattan SVU give up looking for Elliot's family. And then to use Flynn to do his dirty work for him..."

"Well, you might as well make yourself useful while you're banging around in here and fix Elliot something to eat; he hasn't had anything yet," said Erin. "What exactly did Williamson tell you?"

"He didn't tell me anything. Flynn did," said Bryan, finally turning around. "I hope that Captain Cragen told him exactly where to shove it."

"He did," said Elliot, pulling out a chair and sitting at the table opposite Erin. "But we had to get the Feds involved today."

"What for?" Erin asked, frowning. "I thought they were still somewhere in New York?"

"As far as we know, they are, but there's evidence that they might have gone as far south as Maryland."

A slightly guilty feeling settled over Elliot as he said this, mostly because he knew that it wasn't exactly the truth. Then again, it wasn't exactly a lie, either. He didn't want to think about the pictures that he'd left spread out across his desk, but the unbidden images came anyway. It wasn't until he felt Erin's free hand over his that he realized complete silence had fallen over the kitchen.

"Talk to us, sweetheart," Erin said, quietly. "What happened?"

"We got pictures this morning," Elliot replied, reluctantly. He noticed vaguely that he was holding onto the table so hard that his knuckles were slowly turning white, but other than that, nothing. "We've found them at all the places we've been, but nothing like this."

"What kind of pictures?" Bryan asked, slowly, but Elliot shook his head.

"You don't want to know," he said, and heard Erin's sharp intake of breath as the meaning of this dawned on her. Ignoring it, he went on. "We...ah...we had to pull the Feds because we didn't have a choice."

"A website?" Erin asked, unable to hide the note of disgust in her voice. Elliot nodded, mutely, not trusting himself to say anything more than he already had.

The teakettle whistled loudly on the stove. Bryan turned to switch off the burner, a disturbed expression on his face.

"How many of you are on this, not counting the Feds?" he asked.

"Six, counting Jordan," said Elliot, without looking up. "Olivia and I had to talk to her about something yesterday, why?"

"I need to know how many more people I can draw into this without Rick telling everyone I'm playing favorites," said Bryan. He walked over to the table and handed Elliot a cup. "Drink this."

Erin cast a suspicious look at the back of Bryan's head as he opened the refrigerator and started pulling things out.

"What are you up to?" she asked. "Don't you pull the rest of the line into this. That's the last thing anyone needs."

"Not everyone," said Bryan, "Just the Major Case Squad. This is something that would have normally gone to them anyway. I think they could help."

"If it doesn't turn into a turf war," Erin said doubtfully. "Not every squad gets along as well as you'd like to think they do."

"That would give us thirteen, including whatever two Feds are following this," said Bryan, without turning away from the stove. "It's an odd number, but it could work."

"If Rick keeps his mouth shut. I fail to see why he insists on arguing every little point with you," said Erin. She turned to look at Elliot. "What do you think?"

"Do I have a choice?" Elliot asked mildly. "I'm not saying that we couldn't use the help, but won't more people just make it more complicated?"

"You and the rest of your unit have gone headfirst into this storm on your own for long enough," said Bryan. "I think now would be a good time to call in backup. No one knows the streets like the locals."

That was certainly true. The Feds might have had unlimited access to everything and everyone, but the department knew the city. It was all they had. Elliot put the teacup he was holding down on the table, and nodded, briefly, more to himself than at Bryan, who walked over and put a plate down in front of him.

"Eat," he said. "I'll talk to the MCS in the morning."

Across town, back in Manhattan, Olivia found herself pacing the length of the main room in her apartment, a frustrated expression on her face.

"We don't have time to be sitting around on our asses waiting until morning. Kelly Martin gave us a lead," she said, irritably. "We should be following it."

"Your captain only wants to make sure that you lot aren't going to collapse from sheer exhaustion." Across the room, Dean's voice came out of the speakerphone, but before Olivia could say anything else, he continued. "You aren't going to do any good if you're falling asleep on your feet."

"I'm a cop, Dean. I run on coffee and adrenaline half the time, and so do you," Olivia replied. "I know this is probably just another case to you, but this is my partner's family that we're talking about."

"This matters to me as much as every other case I've got on my desk, which is to say that I'm not going to just push it aside because your partner and I might not like each other," Dean said evenly. "I know you're worried, but taking it out on me isn't going to do you any good, either. Dana and I are in this to help you get somewhere."

"I know. I'm sorry. It's just been so damn long, and now we might have some kind of an answer, but none of it makes any sense."

Olivia finally stopped in her tracks and looked in the general direction of where the phone was, waiting; after a moment, Dean picked up where he'd left off.

"Speaking of getting somewhere," he said, "Our techs got an IP address for the computer the pictures were sent to us from."

"You get a name?" Olivia asked at once, quickly crossing the room for a notepad and pen. On the other side of the line, Dean stared at the computer screen in front of him in disbelief.

"Yeah, but you're not going to like it," he said. "This is just my opinion here, but there's got to be some kind of mistake?"

"I thought the Feds didn't make mistakes," Olivia said dryly. "Tell me who it is; maybe we can run this guy down and find out what he knows."

"It's not going to be hard," said Dean. "According to what the techs found, the IP address fits with a computer belonging to John Munch."

Dead silence met this, which was exactly what Dean had been expecting; the news had been startling enough to him, but to a member of the unit that had been at the center of the investigation since the beginning, the news was likely more than just a little bit upsetting.

"That's not possible," Olivia said finally. "It can't be. Your techs have it wrong; there is no way in hell those photos came from him."

"It's possible someone might have been able to hack into his computer and use the information to cover up their tracks," Dean remarked. Olivia scowled.

"Then that's what they did. I don't give a damn what your techs have to say, something isn't right here."

"Well, someone's still going to have to tell him about this. These people could continue using whatever information of his that they get, and there's no telling what they'll do with it."

"Are you the only one who knows about this?" Olivia asked, already looking for her keys. "Who else knows?"

"Dana's the only other one who knows so far; she's the one who sent the results to me," said Dean, "Why?"

"Hold her off. Give me a chance to talk to Munch and see if he knows what happened. I doubt he even knows someone hacked into his system."

"Liv, I can't do that. You know we have to go in there and take that computer to see whatever else might be on it."

"You really think there's anything else on it? Odds are that he's got no idea someone's trying to set him up."

"Are you so sure that it's all a set up?"

"I can't believe you just asked me that." Olivia trailed off, furiously, glaring at the phone as if Dean could see her through it. "You talked to him yourself in connection to this case, do you really think he'd have been able to look you in the eye if he had something to do with this?"

"Anyone can look someone in the eye, regardless of what they've done, it's not that hard to put on an act," Dean retorted. "Until he's cleared, he's now a suspect."

"Do you have a warrant?" Olivia asked, unable to keep her irritation showing through in her voice. Dean sighed.

"No, we don't have a warrant, but we will by tomorrow morning, and then we're going in," he replied. "I wouldn't advise following us."

"And you're an idiot if you think we're not going to," Olivia said bluntly. "We have every right to be there; in case you don't remember, this case was ours first."

"Liv, the last thing anyone needs is to turn this into a turf war. If you follow us in there, it's only going to complicate the situation."

"How the hell do you figure?"

"Assuming you've all been to Sergeant Munch's place at least once, you'd know where things were."

"Are you implying that we'd hide something to keep you from finding out whatever you think you're going to find out?" Olivia demanded, yanking her keys off the hook in the kitchen wall. "You've got a lot of nerve, you know that?"

"I heard those keys, Olivia. Don't go and do anything stupid."

"You go to hell." She reached out and hit the 'end call' button on the phone's base and stood there for a long moment in silence, her keys rattling in her shaking hands. When the cell phone on the counter went off, she jumped, not having expected to hear it, but when she picked it up, it was Fin's number on the caller ID. She flipped it open at once.

"Please tell me that you didn't just hear from the Feds," she said, by way of greeting.

"Wish I could," said Fin. "Agent Lewis just left. Where are you?"

"I'm at my place. Just got off the phone with Agent Porter," Olivia replied, annoyed. "What'd Agent Lewis have to say?"

"Nothing but a bunch of questions about Munch. Told her everything I knew, but she wouldn't tell me why she needed to know."

Olivia swore under her breath, a low sigh escaping her as she leaned back against the counter. "Damn it," she said. "Porter told me they were going to wait until morning."

"Wait for what?" Fin asked, slowly. "Liv, what did Porter tell you?"

"He told me that their techs got an IP address for the computer that the pictures were sent to him and Agent Lewis from," said Olivia. "The computer belongs to Munch."

"What?" Fin demanded, loudly enough that Olivia had to hold the phone away from her ear as he continued. "You're not serious, are you?"

"Yeah, I am. Porter said they didn't have a warrant yet, so they can't go storm his place, but I wouldn't put it past him to call Elliot and let him know what they found."

"Maybe if he wants someone to end up dead. He's gotta know Elliot's not likely to think about what he's doing if he gets that information."

"Elliot is on Staten Island," said Olivia, walking into the entryway of her apartment and slipping her shoes back on now. "I'm going to go and talk to him now."

"Then I'll let Munch know the Feds intend to come knocking," said Fin. "I don't think it'll go over well if they catch him off guard."

"I'll let you know how it goes with Elliot," said Olivia, stepping out of her apartment and closing the door behind her. "Maybe we can get an answer before the Feds get their warrant."

There had been quite a few cases over the years in which the unit had been ordered home to get some rest, only to take up again on their own time, after making sure that their captain wasn't following them to make sure that this was what they actually did. This case was one of them, and so the knock on his apartment door wasn't unexpected. The look on his partner's face when he pulled the door open, on the other hand, was more than just a little bit startling.

"What?" John asked, by way of greeting. "Did something turn up?"

"That depends on your definition of something turning up," Fin replied. "I need to talk to you. Got a minute?"

"It's eleven-thirty at night, Fin, of course I've got a minute." John moved aside to allow the other man into the apartment and closed the door behind him. "What happened?"

"Feds got a hold of a lead," said Fin. "Only problem is that it's going to have them knocking on your door tomorrow morning."

"Why would the Feds be coming here?" John asked, frowning slightly as he turned to head back into the main room. "They aren't going to find anything; there's nothing for them to find."

"Their techs got an IP address for the computer used to send that email with the pictures," Fin told him. "I don't know how, and neither does Liv, but the name they came up with was yours. The pictures came from your computer."

"Well, I didn't send them," said John, giving his partner a look. "I didn't even know they existed until Elliot got them."

"That's not what I meant. I know you didn't send 'em, and so does Liv, but the Feds are gonna have their warrant in the morning, and we need to know how it happened."

"So, what? You think I know? I haven't touched any computer besides the ones at work for weeks; there's been no time, and even if there had been..." John trailed off for a moment, glaring as he continued. "Did you come here to give me a heads up or to interrogate me?"

"Would you rather deal with me or with Elliot?" Fin asked, and when John didn't answer, "That's what I thought. Liv was headed out to Staten Island to talk to him when I got off the phone with her, so unless you want him in your face, you'll talk to me."

Silence. After a long moment, John sighed and walked over to the desk in the room, where a computer sat, the screen completely blank, but a light flashing to tell them that it was merely in sleep mode, and not completely off.

"I don't know what they think they're going to find," he said. "No one's been in this apartment besides me and Rowan, and she's been in Baltimore for the past week."

"You're sure you haven't touched anything?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I think I'd know if I were sending that kind of thing out to people. I might deny it, but I'd know."

"Telling me that doesn't help you any, Munch."

"You know what I meant. The only other explanation is that someone's been in here that shouldn't have been."

"You notice anything out of place lately?"

"No. You'd think the fact that everyone in this building seems to know that I'm a cop would keep someone from breaking in, considering the fact that I have the means to go about finding out who it was, but apparently not."

"We ain't got time for your ranting. Is there any way for you to find out who's been on here?"

"No, but there is a way to find out where they might have gone, provided that it didn't occur to them to delete the search history."

"We're grasping at straws, then. If they're smart enough to make the trail point to you, then they probably thought to delete everything."

"You can only delete it so far without a program designed specifically to wipe everything out."

"You've got too much time on your hands."

"No, I just had nine months to myself after you dumped me for Lake. Sit and learn, partner."

Fin did so, casting a half-amused look at the back of John's head as he moved the mouse to make the computer start up again. A picture of the unit popped up as the desktop.

"When did we take that one?" he asked.

"I don't remember," John replied. "Kai found it on here last time she was home, and she put it up there."

An internet browser popped up as he continued on. "I think she said it was from New Years," he said, and then, "What else did Liv tell you about the Feds?"

"Nothing. Just the IP address leading to you and that was it," said Fin. "Said Porter told her about it."

"Well, at least they haven't managed to catch us completely off guard," John remarked. "You remember when they came in and took everything we had during that one case back in '05?"

Fin shook his head. "I try not to," he said. "You find anything?"

"I think so." John motioned towards a sidebar that had opened inside the internet browser. "They left everything."

"Somehow I don't think I want to know what's behind these links. Why wouldn't they have deleted it?"

"To give the Feds evidence that I might have actually done something. We still can't delete this, and even if we did, they'd be able to find it."

"You're not going to delete it, are you?"

"And find myself on federal charges of obstruction? I think not. We'll leave it here, even though the idea alone threatens to make me ill. At least now we know what the Feds will find."

"They could still string you up, you know. Just the fact that this mess is on here is enough for them to charge you."

"I know." John paused for a moment, and then got to his feet. "That's why you and I are going to have CSU come down here. Technically speaking, this place is a crime scene."