Disclaimer: I own nothing. All characters and stories belong to NBC and Dick Wolf.
A/N: Another chapter. Please review. Happy Holidays, with a Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanzaa, and what ever other holiday you are celebrating. With much love, seasons greetings, and a Happy New Year, Lawabidingchild.
Danger calls
And love will fall
When that fateful day
Comes and all is lost
Maybe all will be won
But when the day is done
All feelings felt that day
Will be lost once won
Abbie stared at Connie, who was standing above her with the note in her hand. There was nothing that Abbie or Connie could do. "What am I supposed to do?" asked Abbie.
"I don't know," mused Connie. "You could always sit back and wait for this to be over with like a normal victim."
"What the hell do you know about normal victims?" spat Abbie.
Connie's eyes widened in concern for her friend as she reached for Abbie's hand and patted it tenderly. "I know enough that you are not acting like one."
"I'm not one," Abbie spat. When Connie's eyes widened, she lowered hers, trying to apologize without speaking a word. Connie thought none of it and didn't let go of Abbie's hand. She squeezed it harder; trying to convey that everything was alright, that nothing could hurt her. But she pushed it away. "Bring me a real victim, because this time, it doesn't look good for anyone."
"Abbie, we can't do that," whispered Connie. "You know that. We don't have a history of past attacks or anything that could maybe tell us who he is."
"Find something," she growled. Her eyes were beginning to flair and her temper was becoming hot. She was begging for an answer, an answer she knew she wouldn't get until the time came.
"There is nothing," Connie pushed back. She wanted, more than anything, for Abbie's fiery southern temper to cool down, back to its original heat.
"Find something!" yelled Abbie, standing up to convey her demand.
"¡No hay nada que podemos encontrar!" Connie screamed, reverting to the use of Spanish as a form of communication.
Abbie lowered her eyes again, and then grimaced, a little surprised by Connie's attack at her. Her eyes began to swell with emotion again. Connie just stood there and watched, waiting for something else to come out of her mouth. Nothing came out, but she furiously wiped her eyes instead. "Shit, Connie!" she sobbed. "This can't be happening."
"It's happening, Abbie," Connie confirmed. "There is nothing that we can do to stop any of this from happening. Only time will tell what happens in the future."
"And we just sit there and wait?" asked Abbie.
"Yes," said Connie, "we do." She reached for Abbie's hand again. "I'm sorry for snapping."
"No, that's my fault," said Abbie, wiping her eyes. "I shouldn't have provoked you."
Connie's eyes swelled with some emotion as well. She grabbed the older woman and proceeded to rock her in her arms. "We'll catch this son of a bitch," said Connie.
Abbie's eyes smiled a little bit, as she smiled for the first time in days. "No one hurts the first female friend I have made in years."
Abbie pulled out of Connie's arms and smiled into her eyes. Then her eyes changed. Abbie raced to her bedroom and pulled out a list of names. "What's wrong, Abbie?" asked Connie.
Abbie scanned through the names and pulled out five. "Alexandr Bychovskaya, Dimitri Fibingerova, Lev Ivakina, Stanislav Mravinsky, and Egor Udovin, all members of the Russian Mob that reside in Manhattan." She looked into Connie's eyes. "I don't know about you, but I get the feeling that this is a revenge calling."
"Revenge?" asked Connie. "From that case eleven years ago?"
"Yes," she said, "I think that's what's happening."
Connie's eyes widened in surprise. This could mean that there's a turn in events.