Unknown Day

The quiet was getting to her. She hated listening to the silence. All she could hear was the sound of her own breathing. It didn't take too long before she realized that the more she consciously tried to take even breaths, the more difficult it became. Apparently, it was something that only sleep could produce.

She decided to try the alphabet again, having forgotten why she'd given up the task in the first place. She even put parameters around it, insisting that she imagine saying it, rather than singing it, like a street cop might require of a drunk.

It started out well enough. She tried to smile around her gag when she got to the e because it made her think of Elliot. Had she been mad at him? Something tugged at the back of her mind, maybe a memory, maybe she was just tired. Something felt weird at the thought of Elliot – not really wrong, more like off. Strange. Shaking her head, she brushed it away, going back to the letter e and the smile it drew out.

Even if she had been mad, it didn't really matter. None of their fights really mattered. She just wanted to see him.

She tried to go back to the alphabet, confused for several minutes as to where, exactly, the h went because she couldn't quite remember if it was before the g or after.

The i and j gave her pause too. Lots of letters looked alike, but she found herself wondering if the guy who made up the alphabet put them next to each other on purpose to make a little smiley face or if he got himself all confused and started to write the i again, realized his mistake, and created the j. She figured maybe he didn't have an eraser.

And then he was there again. She would have smiled, but she couldn't find the energy to fight the gag. He always took it off her anyway. But he was different, as off as her memory of whatever had happened with Elliot. He reached for her hands, like always, but that was where the similarities ended. She cursed it silently, hating that just when she'd accepted her new life, it had to change again.

His hands were on hers, slowly bringing them down, for the first time mindful of the excruciating pain in her shoulders from being in her position so long. And rather than pulling her arms over his head, he left them to drop to her lap. His arms and legs moved around her, speaking something soft and reassuring that she couldn't quite understand as he did so. He'd never pulled her into his lap; he'd always laid down with her in his arms. He spread something over her, something warm and soft, covering her for the first time. He didn't even call her Maggie.

She wasn't sure what to do. Terrified to lose the contact, scared to make him leave her again, she didn't resist, didn't fight, didn't make any noise. If she was completely acquiescent, completely submissive, then he wouldn't find any cause to leave her. She didn't want him to leave. She loved that he smelled right and felt right and held her and rocked her. She loved having Elliot there with her like that.

She loved him.

She took a deep breath, inhaling his strong, glorious scent as her face burrowed into his neck. She loved him. Everything about him. He was magic to her – he could soothe her and comfort her and make her feel whole. She wanted to stay there in his arms forever.

And somewhere in the back of her mind it scared her that she didn't even have to pretend anymore. She'd gotten so good at pretending it was Elliot that she instantly and without conscious thought, perceived him in place of her captor. She was so comfortable resting in Elliot's arms that she slipped off to sleep without shedding a single tear

Why would she cry when she was safe in the arms of the man she loved?

Day Two, cont'd

Elliot didn't slow down as he approached the front desk, but Olivia's long legs closed the distance before their dispute could be witnessed. They were in step when they reached the counter.

The librarian, whose name tag read Angela, was a slight, middle-aged woman and offered them a wide smile. "May I help you?"

Before Elliot could alienate the woman with his obnoxious attitude, Olivia flashed her badge and a smile. "Detectives Benson and Stabler."

Olivia didn't get any further. Angela nodded. "You're here about Natalie. Poor little thing. It's such a shame."

Dispute aside for a respite, Olivia and Elliot glanced at each other to convey their mutual surprise at the woman's response.

"She called this morning, asked me to reserve her journals for later in the week. She's in here so much – I've gotten to know her pretty well. She's so sweet."

Elliot's patience was rapidly disappearing. "How often is she here?"

"Oh, everyday. Three or four hours in the afternoon, longer on the weekends. Except Wednesdays. She always meets her boyfriend for lunch on Wednesdays." As she spoke, Angela waved at another pair of students coming in.

Olivia tried to pull her attention back. "Did you notice anyone strange? Maybe someone paying attention to Natalie?"

The other woman frowned and tapped a finger to her lips. "Hmmm, no, not that I recall."

Elliot opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off.

"Well, there's Howie, but he's not really out of the ordinary. He's always here." She lowered her voice and leaned closer. "I think he's a little slow, if you know what I mean. This is the science library. Most of the students are here working on their thesis or dissertation. Some professors doing research too. Half of them don't even speak English."

Elliot was looking around, noticing for the first time the floor contained wall after wall of bound journals rather than the computer terminals and copiers he might have expected in a regular university library. "And Howie?"

"He's always reading books, but they're never in the same discipline. I think he just likes them. But he's always friendly and he never tries to sneak food in. I did see him talking to Natalie a few times."

Olivia nodded. "Do you know his last name and where we can find him?"

"Druskin, I think. He'll be up on the second floor. Really likes the periodicals." Angela turned away to wave at another student carrying a stack of books that reached over his head.

Elliot's sigh revealed his annoyance while Olivia tried to pretend she hadn't noticed. "What's he look like?"

"Oh, you'll know him."

Elliot thrust his card in her face. "Thanks, Ms-"

"Andrews."

He blew through the metal detector, leaving Olivia to smile apologetically as it started to wail in protest of his firearm. He was halfway up the stairs before Olivia caught up to him that time.

"Thanks, partner." Taking the last few steps three at a time, she beat him to the door.

"For what?" His tone sounded like he really thought he'd behaved with Angela Andrews.

She smiled at him, a smile she knew more closely resembled a snarl. "Just for being you." When she stepped through the door, she didn't bother to hold it and found a tiny bit of satisfaction that his curse was muffled as the door slammed in his face. She knew it was probably bad karma to be rotten for the hell of it, but he'd hurt her feelings and she couldn't resist.

Silently, they turned down the first row of stacks. At the other end, they found a large, open room full of tables stacked high with thick volumes, half obscuring the few people working amid them. Most of them had additional stacks surrounding their chairs. Many even had piles of open books before them, taking notes from one, then referring to another. One tall man pushed a whole cart of books out in front of him before seeming to collapse at his station.

Elliot turned to her. "Is it just me or is it a little odd for a student to spend three or four hours at the library everyday?"

Trying to avoid whiplash from the mood swing, she shrugged. "I'm not even sure Sienna had a library."

Elliot smiled. "I'm sure they did."

"I had better things to do in college." She craned her neck to see if anyone stood out.

"Like what?"

"Like hot guys and jello shots, what else do girls do in school?"

Elliot looked either stunned or sick, but Olivia couldn't figure out which. "You could have mentioned that before I let Maureen live on campus."

Rolling her eyes, she patted his shoulder. "So I probably shouldn't mention I was doing the same thing in high school."

He grinned. "Well, personally, I was busy working on the cheerleaders."

"And we all know how well that turned out." Actually, she wasn't sure, but there was something about Kathy that had always screamed cheerleader to her.

Elliot's only response was a glare.

Olivia nodded at the studious people around them. "So that would mean these are the kids who ruined the curve."

"How are we supposed to know which one is Howie?"

Olivia pointed to a guy on the right. "Because that one over there is our age."

Elliot moved with her, but she could sense his hesitation. "Could be a professor, right?"

"No, that's him."

"How do you know?"

Olivia smiled enigmatically. "She said I'd know, didn't she?"

Elliot still looked suspicious. "Is this some intuition kind of thing?"

"No, it's a if he sat down next to me at a bar I'd leave kind of thing." Pulling out a chair, she sat down. "Hi, Howie."

The man looked startled, his dirty blond hair flopping in his face when he looked up. His eyes widened as he looked back and forth between Olivia and Elliot. "Hi?"

Elliot slid into the chair beside Olivia, muttering under his breath. "Well, God knows your radar is certainly reliable." Ignoring her glare, he looked at Howie. "You are Howie, right?"

Howie nodded once, swallowing as he set a thick book down. "Yes, my name's Howie." His eyes avoided Elliot's, ducking down as he turned toward Olivia, then looking up again. He looked at her, slowly taking in her face, his stare lingering on the swelling of her cheek. "Can I help you?"

Elliot held a picture of Natalie up. "You know this girl?"

Howie glanced at it barely long enough to focus before he looked back at Olivia. "Who are you?"

Irritated both by Howie's behavior toward him and Howie's apparent fascination with Olivia, Elliot held up his badge, blocking Howie's stare at Olivia. "We're detectives. Now, do you know this girl?"

Howie looked back at Elliot and narrowed his eyes. "Did you hit her?"

Olivia could see Elliot bristling at the suggestion and she stepped in. "Would you mind taking a look at this picture and telling us if you know her?" She took the picture from Elliot's grasp and slid it across the table.

Howie glared at Elliot for another moment before looking down at the picture. "That's Natalie." He reached out, picking up the picture to hand it back to Olivia. "Did something happen to her?"

Elliot snatched the picture up and put it in his pocket. "How do you know Natalie?"

Howie's eyes stayed on Olivia. "Tell me what happened to her."

Olivia shivered, the intensity of Howie's stare bugging her. "Why do you think something happened to her?"

"Because you're police." He reached out suddenly, so unexpectedly that his fingers managed to graze Olivia's cheek before she could pull out of range. "You shouldn't put up with that."

Elliot stood up, slamming his chair into the table behind him. "I'm going to check with Angela to see if there's anyone else I can talk to. It looks like you've got this covered."

Olivia stood up, her hand falling on his arm to stop him from moving away as she leaned in to speak so Howie wouldn't overhear. "Stay."

Elliot shook his head. "I'm not getting anywhere. If he knows anything, he's only going to tell you." He stepped back, motioning toward the stairs. "I'll meet you at the car"

"El, don't." She watched his back disappear through the stacks before she sat back down across from Howie. "So, how do you know Natalie?"

Howie was glaring in the direction Elliot had disappeared. "He treats you like shit."

"He's having a bad day." Olivia wasn't sure why she felt compelled to defend Elliot, not when Howie's observation was spot on, but she supposed it was instinct. He was her partner. And he didn't usually treat her like shit. She smiled to herself, thinking about the way he'd kissed her that morning. That certainly hadn't been shitty. "So, Natalie?"

Howie smiled back at Olivia. "Natalie's a nice girl. We talk about science sometimes."

Taking in the titles of the books Howie had, Olivia saw what the librarian had mentioned. There were physics textbooks, medical journals, chemistry books, aerospace magazines. "You're friends?"

Howie shrugged. "Not really. I only know her name because she dropped a paper once and I gave it back to her." He smiled. "She's not as pretty as you."

Olivia's eyes darted back to where she'd last seen Elliot and wished he hadn't left. "When's the last time you saw Natalie?"

"I don't want to talk about her."

Although she'd already been suspicious of Howie, his response piqued her interest. "Why not?"

Howie smiled. "Because I'd rather talk about you."

Olivia didn't bother responding. Standing up, she started to retrace her steps to the door.

"Wait!"

She wanted to keep going, but she reminded herself she was a police officer and, unlike Elliot, she couldn't storm away simply because she was in a mood. "What is it?"

Howie stood up and approached her, surprising her by his height. From the crouched way he'd been sitting, she'd thought he was short, however, when he stood, he was taller than Elliot. "What if I think of something? Remember someone weird?"

Against her better judgment, Olivia withdrew a card from her pocket. "Then give us a call." Then she did disappear, desperate to escape before Howie tried again.

Elliot was leaning on the car, sipping at a bottle of water he'd picked up from a vendor. "So, you make plans for tonight with your new friend?"

She glared at him. "Remind me to return the favor next time some sex-starved housewife has you in her sights." She snagged the water from him and took a sip.

"Get anything useful?"

She grinned as Elliot opened her door. "Besides finding out that I'm prettier than Natalie?"

He climbed in beside her, all traces of his tantrum gone as he smiled back. "I could have told you that."

"He's creepy. Besides that, nothing." She ignored his comment because she didn't know what to do with it. Elliot wasn't supposed to tell her she was pretty. But then, he wasn't supposed to kiss her or pin her against the wall and tell her she belonged to him. It was something she was going to have to deal with later, when she was alone, possibly after ingesting a lot of tequila.

"He's harmless."

"I'm not sure about that." It was rare that she and Elliot disagreed about people.

"He's probably retarded and can't even read. Did you see that spread of books? He just wants to pretend to be a scientist or something."

She really hoped he was right. "He didn't really seem retarded. He seemed like a creep."

"I think you have that effect on men."

Her mouth fell open as she looked at her partner. "What?"

He shrugged, avoiding her eyes as he drove. "You tend to bring out everyone's dark side."

Her first instinct was to fight, to dispute what she immediately thought was completely untrue. But then she thought about her luck with guys – the apparently normal reporter who wanted to play rapist, Phil's violent tendencies, Elliot's snap in the elevator. He hadn't even been trying to upset her; he'd only been stating something he believed was a fact. Hurt and embarrassed, she turned away.

The ride back to the precinct was silent. The rest of the day nearly was too except for bringing the captain up to speed. He didn't even bid her good night when she left. She didn't bother saying it either. Elliot had already made it clear that she didn't have anything to say that he wanted to hear.