T Minus 2 Days

T Minus 2 Days

Elliot was steaming. Pissed as fucking hell.

Fucking son of a bitch Cragen. Fucking son of a bitch Munch.

Fuck them. And fuck Fin and Lake too.

Fuck every single other one of the officers that had come in to "help" get Elliot away from Howie. Fuck anyone who didn't think it was perfectly appropriate for Elliot to squeeze Howie's fucking throat until he spilled Olivia's location.

Who fucking cared that Howie would be dead long before he admitted he knew anyone named Olivia? It wasn't like anyone would miss the bastard.

Of course, that was the argument that had resulted in the fuckers locking Elliot in the little interrogation room just over six hours earlier. For about the hundred-millionth time in those six hours, Elliot bristled at the decision of his boss, when the older man declared Elliot was unable to control himself.

Fuck that. It wasn't a matter of control. He could control himself if he wanted. The issue was that he really did want to kill Howie. He figured they could find where he'd stashed her somehow after Howie was dead.

Elliot was sitting on the floor, having discovered it was far more comfortable than the old metal chair. He leaned his head back against the cinder block walls, trying to keep his mind occupied. Normally a little after midnight Elliot would be tired and ready to sleep, but he'd slept through most of the day and his brain refused to quiet down.

His mind finally found something, a memory that tugged at the corners of his mouth until he started to smile. He'd almost forgotten, but suddenly, it was there, as sharp as if it had just happened. Pieces of it remained hazy, like just what it was they had done and what case it had involved, but a few years earlier, Elliot and Olivia had ignored Cragen's order to do something or to not to something else, but their behavior had resulted in them being banished from the precinct. Naturally, whenever they had an open case, neither of them wanted to go home until it was solved. Until the rapist was in jail, they wouldn't be able to get any rest anyway.

For some reason, despite having had their careers threatened, they hadn't wanted to leave. At first, they'd tried to hide out in the crib, but Cragen had caught them, telling them in no uncertain terms that they were not to dare set foot in the crib. And in a single glance between them, they both knew exactly what they were going to pull – as Olivia begged mercy, trying to concoct some ridiculous reason as to what they were doing, Elliot grabbed their coats and his keys to make the story believable. As soon as Cragen had turned his back, they'd ducked into the back interrogation room, joking about how much trouble they were going to get into if they were caught. Olivia said she hadn't had so much fun since she was a kid, trying to sneak a cigarette in the school bathroom. Elliot agreed, informing her that his attempt to hide on campus had involved a cute little redhead and a very short skirt.

So they'd hung out in the darkness, almost certain they wouldn't be discovered but leaving the lights out anyway, sitting together in the corner, trading tales of broken rules and the love of the adrenaline rush that had pulled them both into police work. They'd been paged after a few hours, long after the conversation had run dry. The beepers woke Elliot first, giving him a moment to try to understand how he'd wound up asleep on the floor with Olivia snuggled into his side, their jackets thrown over them for warmth. It had come back to him just as Olivia's beeper woke her. He'd watched her reflection in the mirror, the early morning sun lighting up the room just enough, seeing the confusion and uncertainty and hesitation when she first opened her eyes. He saw the moment of surprise when she realized it was him.

And then he'd seen the precious little smile that graced her lips as she let her face turn back toward his shoulder. She mumbled something about telling them to fuck off and he'd been tempted. Except he'd been too surprised to see how she'd willingly, consciously curled into him. To spare her the embarrassment of calling her on her consciousness, he'd tucked his face against her hair, squeezing her shoulder, letting her hair tickle his cheek as he softly said her name. He let her take her time, pretended to believe she was really sleepy, and reveled in the short time he could hold her in his arms.

Elliot was still sitting there, in the same place as he'd been those years earlier, with a stupid grin on his face, when Cragen opened the door.

He tried to size Elliot up, but clearly the grin threw him off. "Do you think you can resist the urge to kill Howie?"

The smile disappeared, the warm feeling fleeing from the icy cold that shot through him. He scrambled to his feet. "Did he give you anything?"

Cragen shook his head. "Nothing. Not even his name."

"It's Howie Druskin." Elliot couldn't believe they'd let him sit there all that time without even asking.

"Yeah, that's what he told us." He shrugged. "But there's no one in the state by that name. Even the FBI computer didn't bring up a hit either."

As they made their way back to the bullpen, Elliot realized that as quiet as everyone else kept their feelings, they were all still there, waiting for news, trying to help. Elliot turned to Cragen. "What about his prints?"

Cragen glared at him, giving Elliot the distinct impression that he should know better. "We can't compel him, Elliot. He's not under arrest."

Elliot's eyes went wide. "Are you kidding me? Why not? We know he has her!"

"I'm waiting for Casey to weigh in. She's been tied up all night."

Her timing couldn't have been worse, as Casey happened to stride into the room at that moment. Elliot's anger immediately found a new target, focusing on Casey. "Where the hell have you been?"

Casey's normally pleasant smile was missing, replaced by a look of complete exhaustion. "Contrary to popular belief, Elliot, I don't stand around waiting for you to bellow my name. I have other things to do sometimes."

Elliot narrowed his eyes, quite happy that she'd walked right into his trap. "And exactly what have you been doing that's more important that Olivia's life?"

Casey's anger faltered as she glanced to Cragen for verification. "Did you find something?"

"Just the prick who took her." Elliot felt no mercy and he didn't like that fact that Cragen seemed less upset than Elliot personally felt he should have.

Ignoring Elliot, Cragen put his hand on Casey's back to lead her toward the interrogation room. "We're pretty damn sure this is the guy. Tell me we have enough to arrest him." His eyes darted back to Elliot cautiously. "Please, before we have to commit him."

"What do you have?" Her eyes locked on Howie's bored face, a cold gleam darkening her stare.

Cragen produced the enlargements from TARU. "We've got Howie here stalking Olivia."

Casey looked at the photos. "Did Olivia file a complaint?"

"She told me he creeped her out." Elliot knew they were trying to keep him out of the conversation and he wasn't about to take it, not after he'd been locked in a damn room for six hours when he could have been beating the fucking information out of the shitbag.

Casey glanced at Cragen. "We can't have a stalking without a complaining witness."

Elliot stepped in, forcing Casey to pull back from his looming bulk. "We don't have a complaining witness because we have a god damn stalker. What is wrong with you?"

Cragen already looked whipped, but he kept trying. "Howie was questioned by Olivia and Elliot the day before she disappeared. Howie displayed an inappropriate level of interest in Olivia as well as an antagonistic response to Elliot, apparently because he believed Elliot was responsible for the bruise on Olivia's face."

Casey was nodding. "Ok, so that's when he started following her?"

"Yeah, these photos are stamped from that afternoon." Cragen stuffed the pictures back in the file and dropped it on the table. "Now prior to acquiring these pictures, Elliot and John questioned Howie. Howie brought up Olivia and again voiced his hostility toward Elliot."

Casey fought back a grin. "It's hard to imagine anyone not getting along with him."

Cragen allowed himself a tiny smile. "Elliot received a letter yesterday, indicating that Olivia was being protected from him. Her gun was in the package."

The blonde's face seemed to light up in a rather inappropriate manner. "Prints? Hair? Note signed with his name?"

Cragen shook his head. "The hair lifted was female, wound up being a match to Olivia's. There's a partial print that is not hers, but it's not enough of one to match to anything."

Casey's eyes slipped closed, her head shifting slowly from side to side. "Is that it?"

Elliot sighed, feeling completely deflated. He knew Casey was probably speaking from some objective place that Elliot couldn't remember ever being near. He didn't need to hear the rest; he already had his answer. No one was going to help Olivia.

"Well, once the photos were enhanced, John and Elliot went back to talk to Howie. They got him in here and after all his worrying about Olivia, he suddenly claimed he didn't know who she was." Cragen's voice was almost a plea, as though his tone would make the information more useful.

"There's no judge in his right mind who will issue a warrant with those pictures. This is Manhattan. It's entirely possible that Howie frequents those locations and any public defender will be all too happy to expound on that point." Casey looked disappointed and Elliot couldn't blame her. The idea that she might get them a warrant was their best hope. "And with Howie saying he doesn't even remember her, well, that's not exactly a confession."

Elliot cracked the knuckles of his right hand and bared his teeth. "You need a confession. I'll get you a confession."

"Oh, jeez, I didn't hear that." Casey turned her eyes back to Cragen. "Get me something I can use. A pattern. Another stalking victim. Something."

Cragen started to laugh, as much from exhaustion as from Casey's comment. "The name he gave is false. We can't get anything useful out of him."

Elliot was glaring through the glass, his gaze damn near melting the mirror. "He's not as stupid as everyone thinks. He's playing with us. It's a game. He has her and we know it and he knows we know it and we can't fucking get him."

Casey bit her lip, finally offering a shrug. "How long do you have left before you have to turn him loose? Don't you people have sneaky ways of getting prints? I'm sure I've gotten my ass in a sling for some of your more inventive practices in the past."

"Munch, go get Howie a soda. Maybe he'll leave his prints behind." He turned back to Casey. "They brought him in around six, so we've got a while yet. I'll call you as soon as you get something."

Elliot was quiet for a long time, not responding, not even seeming to hear Casey bidding him good luck. Cragen's words were stuck in his head, rolling around, eventually driving home the idea that it would be a long eighteen hours before Howie would be a free man, even if he managed to hold out.

He shoved open the door, ignoring Cragen's angry complaint. "Howie!"

Howie'd been staring at the window, in a half-asleep stupor, but he jerked upright at the sound of Elliot's voice. "Don't hurt me!"

Elliot grabbed Howie's collar, shaking him fiercely. "How long were you at the library today?"

Howie clawed at Elliot's hands, but eventually seemed to understand that Elliot wasn't letting him go without getting an answer. "I go to the library everyday."

Elliot shook him again, knowing it would only be a matter of seconds before someone would be there, pulling him off. "What time? What time were you at the library this morning?"

Howie smiled as Fin and Cragen started pulling at Elliot. "I haven't been to the library at all today."

"The hell you haven't! I pulled your ass out of there myself. Don't play with me!" His grip was about to relax, not until he had his answer.

"That was yesterday." Howie smiled again. "It's after midnight."

Growling, Elliot's grasp grew tighter. "What time you little bastard? Tell me what time you went to the damn library or I'll tear you apart!"

He eventually realized that Cragen and Fin were no match for Elliot's anger. His smile disappeared. "Eight. I'm always there when they open at eight every morning."

"Have you been home at all since then?"

Howie shook his head, his fear of Elliot twisting into pride. "I stay at the library all day."

Just as suddenly as he'd attacked, Elliot's hands released. He took a step back, shaking off Cragen and Fin. Slowly he turned to his boss. "Let him go."

Frowning, Cragen looked at Fin. Elliot's mood swing was unexpected at best and Fin's face revealed the same level of confusion. "Howie's going to remain our guest for quite some time."

Elliot met the older man's eyes slowly, letting his anguish speak for itself. "She's been alone all this time, Don. He left her alone sixteen hours ago."

"Shit." Fin turned from his previously docile self and kicked the chair Howie was sitting on. "Does she have access to food or water?" Kicking the chair again, he stepped forward and watched as Howie's eyes went wide. "Huh? Does she? Don't make me mess you up, jackass!"

Knowing Elliot was right, knowing Howie wasn't as dumb as he appeared, knowing they weren't going to get a damn thing out of him, Cragen grabbed the back of Howie's collar and pulled him to his feet before Fin had a chance to charge. "Get the hell out of here." He shoved Howie toward the hall, turning to Elliot and Fin as soon as Howie had stepped far enough away. "You stay on his ass. Find out where the hell he goes."

Elliot wasn't sure what he was hearing, if it was permission he didn't even need. "Cap?"

Cragen glanced between Fin and Elliot, taking a deep breath and letting out a heavy sigh. "He so much as jay-walks, you pick his ass up."

Fin nodded as Elliot started after Howie, keeping the man in his sights. "And if he gets home legally?"

"Then make sure there's nothing suspicious about his place. And feel free to check out any public areas nearby."

"I heard that." And then he chased after Elliot, not wanting to leave Elliot alone anywhere near Howie for long.