Unknown Day

Her head hurt. She knew that was due to how hard she'd hit the wall when he'd grabbed her. Her thoughts were also kind of fuzzy, which she bet had something to do with whatever had been on the rag he'd put over her face. It hadn't been panic that had caused the world to go black barely a second after he'd slapped it over her face. With consciousness once again upon her, she tried to recall what had happened.

She'd been royally pissed at Elliot. And she held onto that anger because she didn't want to feel the pain she knew was coming. The emotional pain, of course, was coming; the physical pain was already there. Every step hurt. She felt like a virgin, making her way home sore and suffering from an inconsiderate lover. Something she'd truly never expected Elliot would be.

There'd been a noise, not ten feet from the front door of her building. And like an idiot, rather than being selfish and ignoring it, she went to see what it was. It sounded like a whimper, either a child or an animal, and she just hadn't been able to walk away.

Thinking back on it, she wished she had.

She struggled against her restraints, using the few senses she had left after the gag and blindfold were in place. The blindfold was secured around her ears, so she was left with touch and smell. Everything hurt and the room smelled musty.

It wasn't a lot of help.

And neither was the uncomfortable feeling between her legs, swollen and torn from Elliot's abuse, the miserable feeling of her stiff, filthy panties having dried over the night, choking her with the undeniable scent of sex and Elliot and her own enjoyment every time she moved.

It was all his fault. If she hadn't been distracted thinking about him fucking her the way he had, the way her muscles ached from how hard she'd come, the fact that she could never go back to her job, it wouldn't have happened.

Son of a bitch. If she lived to see him again, she'd kill him.

Day Three

The shrill ring of her phone woke her and she reached for it, her yawn twisting the sound into an unrecognizable slur of her voice. She hadn't slept the night before and wasn't in the mood to pick up a case. "Benson."

"Natalie was attacked again. I'll be there in five minutes."

"Mmmphh." She set the phone back down on the bedside table. She yawned again, rolling onto her side and letting her eyes drift closed. Five minutes. That was plenty of time for her to get some more sleep.

It took about three minutes for it to sink in, at which point she jerked awake and realized her partner was probably pulling up to her bulding's front door. Stumbling through her messy room, she yanked on some pants and a shirt. If anyone ever asked, and usually her dates did, she would explain that leaving her clothes lying all over the floor made it easier to get dressed on her way out to a crime scene in the middle of the night. It was a lie, of course, she was simply uninterested in bothering. She saw no point in putting away her clothes since she was just going to have to get them back out again.

She tripped down the stairs, clipping her badge and holster to her belt, knowing she could zip up her boots in the car. Juggling her keys, phone and jacket, she slumped into Elliot's car. "What happened?" She was still half asleep, but she'd been a cop for so long that she could do her job awake or asleep.

Elliot shrugged. "She called, said she'd been attacked again."

The comment caught her attention, jarring her the rest of the way from sleep. "A second attack and she called you?" She was used to rape victims calling her in the middle of the night, even a few years later, needing to talk. But few of them called Elliot.

He shrugged again, keeping his attention on the road, but she could see a smile curving his lips. "Maybe she's intimidated because you're prettier than her."

Zipping up her boots, she shook her head and tried to wipe the smile off her face. With the way Elliot was treating her, she shouldn't love the way it felt when he paid her a compliment. She knew her heart shouldn't race at the idea that he found her attractive. She knew she should resent the way he was so obviously playing her emotions. But in truth, there was nothing she could do to prevent the special zing that his smile and attention sent flying through her veins.

Uniforms and crime scene techs were already on the scene when they arrived. Natalie was waiting for them on the couch, holding a beer in her hands. Elliot allowed Olivia to enter in front of him, assuming the approach of a man might frighten her.

"Natalie, I'm so sorry. Can you tell me what happened?" Mindful of her personal space, Olivia sat on the far side of the couch.

Natalie swirled her beer around, taking a long sip. "He came back."

Olivia's eyes darted to Elliot's, trying to see how he was taking Natalie's bizarre reaction. He looked suspicious as he nodded toward the bedroom, indicating silently that he was going to check on the crime scene techs. She looked back at Natalie, reaching for the beer bottle. "Why don't you start at the beginning?"

"I was sleeping. There was a noise that woke me and when I got up to see what it was, he grabbed me and threw me on the bed." Natalie shrugged, her eyes avoiding Olivia's. "Then he raped me."

Olivia could only imagine the horror of being raped. She didn't want to think about what a second attack would do. "Do you think it was the same man?"

Natalie nodded. "He knew my name. He felt the same."

"There's a bus waiting to take you to the hospital. Think you're ready to go?"

Natalie looked at her watch. "Will I have to give another statement too?"

Olivia chalked the odd behavior up to having been raped twice in two days. "You'll need to come down to the station. It would be good to get that done as soon as possible, but if you're not up to it, it can wait a day or so."

"Can I think about it? I have classes early and I don't want to miss them."

Olivia nodded, standing by as the paramedics helped the girl onto the stretcher. "I'll meet you at the hospital as soon as we finish up here." Once Natalie was wheeled out of the room, Olivia headed for the bedroom. Elliot was leaning against the wall, watching as Jill, one of the techs they bumped into occasionally, collected evidence. "What do we have?"

Elliot nodded at Jill, who Olivia realized was spending an awful lot of time wiggling her ass in Elliot's direction. "Jill can bring you up to speed."

Jill pretended to be fascinated by the carpeting. "We have fluids, hairs, fingerprints." She shrugged, flashing a grin at Elliot while ignoring Olivia. "Either Natalie has a male friend or the perp is an imbecile."

Irritated and sleep deprived, Olivia cleared her throat. "Wouldn't be the first time to see both. A twenty-three year old woman with a boyfriend is hardly strange."

Elliot squatted down next to Jill, not even trying to hide it when he winked at the woman. "How soon do you think we'll get DNA?"

Jill rolled her eyes and glanced back at Olivia for the first time. "I'll get right on it and give you a call." She stood up, pausing at Olivia's side to stage whisper her last comment. "Because we both know Elliot doesn't know how to use a phone."

Olivia's eyes darted back to Elliot's in surprise, shock momentarily blocking her pain. But Elliot's eyes were locked on Jill's ass as she disappeared around the corner, his whole body leaning to keep her in sight. When he finally gave up and looked back at Olivia, the shock had gone, replaced by anger, which continued to spare her from hurting. "Jesus, Elliot, what the hell is wrong with you?"

Standing up, he returned to her side. "What?"

"Nothing. We need to meet Natalie." She wanted to strangle him. She preferred thinking Elliot was having mood swings between the sweet guy who'd kissed her and a conceited asshole who thought he owned her. She didn't like knowing it was the same skirt-chasing Don Juan.

But when they got back in the car, Elliot wouldn't drop it. "What the hell is your problem?"

"Jill? What is she, twelve?" It really didn't have anything to do with Jill's age, but it seemed a legitimate argument rather than her hurt feelings.

"She's twenty-six." He winced as soon as he spoke, perhaps realizing that he'd incriminated himself by knowing that fact.

Olivia choked on a disbelieving laugh. "She's your daughter's age."

Elliot's hands gripped the wheel in anger. "Maureen is not twenty-six."

"Close enough. What would you do if you found out she was fucking someone your age?"

Deciding to play stupid, he tried to smile. "What makes you think I'm fucking Jill?"

"You did. And clearly, you only did it once and never called her or she wouldn't be pissed off about your ability to use a phone, would she?" She couldn't believe her partner was really that much of a jerk.

He didn't say anything. He just stared out the window until they pulled into the hospital parking lot. "What business is it of yours who I fuck?"

Shaking her head, she shrugged. "I'm just curious, I guess." She slammed her door with far more force than necessary before glaring at him. "So, really, am I the only woman on the planet you haven't slept with?"

His eyes searched hers, searching for something he thought he found. "Jealous?"

"Not really." She led the way toward the doors, hoping he was just guessing as opposed to reading her. "Seriously, El, were you on some kind of tear or what?"

He caught up to her in two steps. "What are you talking about?"

"Jill, Agent Williams, Dani, how many more are there?"

He stopped suddenly, grabbing her arm and forcing her to do the same. "What do you know about Dani?"

She glared at him, suddenly quite angry that the rumors had been true. "Elliot, the entire state of New York knows about you and Dani."

"Really?" At least he had the tact to look embarrassed.

"You weren't exactly discrete." It was the truth. The rumor mill had long since stopped trying to get information from Olivia and therefore had stopped providing it to her as well. It took a hell of a lot for a rumor to actually reach her.

"I thought we were." Elliot was staring at the ground, his cheeks displaying the slightest hint of red.

"You hooked up in the parking lot of a cop bar. If you weren't trying to broadcast it, what was the point?"

He turned away and started walking, muttering under his breath. "I didn't know you knew about that."

"What difference does it make?" She wanted an answer, like knowing if he still would have kissed her had he known she was aware of all the recent notches in his belt.

"How would you like me to bring up Cassidy?"

Her mouth dropped open, not quite believing her partner would do that. "What the hell does Cassidy have to do with anything? That was almost ten years ago."

He shrugged as they approached the desk. "Mistakes are mistakes, Liv. No one likes to have their noses rubbed in them."