Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.

Olivia stood in her office doorway, leaning against the molding, her arms crossed and a narrow-eyed glare plastered on her face. She looked at the clock on the wall, squinting for clarity, and then looked at her watch, comparing the times. "Shit," she hissed, biting her lip. "Fin, have you heard from either of them?"

Fin looked up from his report, shook his head, and said, "Not in the last couple of hours."

"Damn it," she spat, turning on her heels and grabbing for her office phone. She dialed fast, surprised at how quickly she'd memorized his office number. "It's me," she said before he even finished answering the call. "No, I'm not taking anything off," she said, rolling her eyes. "I've got two missing detectives, and I need someone to..." she paused, listening. "Yeah, I think they both do. I'll call Morales and see if he get a location, you get someone on the radio for me, and we'll..." he said something that stopped her words. "I love you, too, but I don't think we should be saying that at...okay, okay, you're right. Don't...don't snap at me, I'm already having a freak-out moment, here." She ran her hand over her stomach, feeling queasy, and resting it on her hip. "Thank you. Yeah, later. Bye." She dropped the receiver into the cradle and walked back out into the squad room. "Tell me again," she said to Fin, walking over and hovering near his desk. "What did that nun tell you?"

"Liv, really? You're gonna give yourself an ulcer," he spat at her.

"I already have one," she countered, pulling open the top drawer of Nick Amaro's desk and grabbing a bottle of antacid tablets. She popped the cap, shook two pastel-colored caplets into her hand, and threw them into her mouth. She dropped the bottle back in place and slammed the drawer closed.

Fin watched, concerned but silent. "Okay, uh, Sister Mary Paul," he said, flipping pages in a notebook. "Said that about thirteen years ago, two cops showed up, asking all kinds of questions about where they get their kids from, if there's a screening process before placement. Something in the case they were working, two adopted Romanian kids with no papers. They asked if the Angels of Mercy had any relations with other orphanages in other countries, they were accused of being involved in..."

"Trafficking," Olivia nodded. "You told me."

Fin tilted his head and let out a hard sigh. "So if you know what I told you..."

"I'm trying to think!" she yelled at him. "Christ, Fin!" she seethed. "Did she...did she tell you who these cops were? Did she give you names?"

Fin, taken aback by her demeanor, shook his head. "She couldn't remember. She, uh, she only said one was a man, one was a woman, and two days later one of the other nuns and two babies went missing. A week after that, the Bramsons adopted Valerie. She said Mr. Bramson almost cried."

"When...when did you say..." she stopped, shaking her head. She didn't want to ask him again. "Close to thirteen years...Valerie was almost twelve, so her timeline is off, I guess. Who would have..." her eyes shot open and she slapped a balled fist down on Fin's desk, spilling some of his coffee onto his almost-finished report. "Mother fucker," she cursed.

"Took the words right outta my mouth," Fin ground out, wiping away the coffee with his sleeve. "What the hell, Benson?"

She gave him a hard look. "Excuse me?"

"What?" he questioned, irritated. Rolling his eyes, he asked, "What, you want me to call you Stabler?"

"It's my name," she said, "And watch the attitude, Fin." She stifled a yawn and said, "That could have been Goren. His partner was a woman. Eames." She rolled her shoulders and sighed. "Did she give you anything else? What about the man she knew as Mister Bramson, did she say..."

"Here," Fin said quickly, thrusting a file in her direction. "This is everything they had on the adoption, including old Polaroids. See for yourself."

Olivia held her breath as she opened the folder, gasping slightly when she saw the first aged photograph. "She was so..." she stopped, shook her head, and let one fingernail trace over the face of Baby Valerie. She swallowed the urge to cry and flipped a few pictures. "This is Sarah, but who...son-of-a-bitch." She flipped the photo over and held it out to Fin. "Look familiar?"

Fin made a disgusted face. "I'll go," he said, ripping the picture out of her hand. "He's down in holding?"

Olivia nodded, and then picked up Fin's phone, dialing up to Technical Response before she forgot why she needed him. As she was talking to Morales, a lead in the unit, Rollins and Amaro stormed into the room, yelling at each other. Her head shot up, and she covered the mouthpiece of the receiver with her hand. "Hey! I am on the phone! What the hell is going on?"

Rollins pointed at Amaro. "He lost Carbone!"

"Me?" Amaro yelled, wide-eyed and offended. "You're the one who shouted, 'Sal Carbone! Stop! NYPD!' Like he was just gonna turn around and say, 'Oh, ya got me, Copper?"

Rollins tightened her jaw and took a step toward him. "He ran, right to you! You could have..."

"Enough!" Olivia yelled, stopping them. She'd ended her call with Morales, no longer needing to trace any cell phones, and she took three broad steps toward Rollins and Amaro and crossed her arms. "The two of you..." she pointed her pinkie finger at them, "Need to figure out how to handle this. Trust me, it doesn't go away if you ignore it, but you need to push it as far back as you can, while you're at work." She looked pointedly at Rollins. "You can't take your personal shit out on him," she paused and turned to Amaro, "And you can't explode at her because you feel guilty. The two of you...have to find other ways to deal with the tension. Or you can't do this job." She eyes them both carefully, studying their shocked and guilt-ridden faces. "Do I make myself clear?"

Nick nodded first, licking his lips, then jutted his chin toward Rollins. "As long as she does her job, I can do mine," he said snidely. "I can't keep looking over my shoulder to make sure..."

"Deja vu," Elliot's cool, low voice filtered into the room, interrupting Amaro. He looked at Olivia, a long-buried memory risen to the forefront of his mind. "Sounds familiar."

"A little too familiar," Olivia said, looking right back at him. "I, uh, found them."

"No," Elliot said, looking skyward and intoning it like a song lyric. "I did. Who do you think dragged them down here."

"Oh, really," Olivia gave Rollins a scolding glance, then narrowed her eyes more when she looked at Amaro. "How long ago did you lose Carbone?"

Amaro sighed and scratched sheepishly at the back of his neck, shame creeping up his cheeks. "Two hours," he mumbled.

"Do you have any idea how fucking crazy I have been, thinking one of his goons got to you?" Olivia hurled at them. "And lemme guess," she said, pointing to Rollins, "You were the one who decided to spend the last two hours looking for him, and you," she shot the hand over to Amaro, "Went along with it, because it was either back her play and go with her, or let her go alone, which she would do anyway, and you can't stand the thought of anything happening to her because you weren't there."

Nick looked at Amanda, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. "Pretty much," he said.

Olivia looked at Elliot, stone-faced, and said, "I have a headache."

He laughed and moved further into the room. "Now you know," he said with a shrug.

"What?" she questioned, waving a hand a dismissing Amaro and Rollins to their desks.

"What we put Cragen through," he said as he leaned back against Fin's desk. "Did they tell you?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Not...not outright, but we didn't exactly broadcast it to..."

He laughed and held up a hand. "Not about that! About Carbone," he said, still chuckling. "Couple of uniforms spotted him heading down Fifth Ave. Call came in over the CB when I picked up your two lost birdies, over there. They got him, he'll be here in about ten minutes." He narrowed his eyes. "Are you okay? You don't look so good." He immediately retracted his statement. "I mean, you look gorgeous, you always do, but...you look a little rough around the edges, right now."

She let out a long breath and steadied herself on the desk beside him. "Fine, just...we haven't slept, I haven't eaten, I have a headache, I'm pissed off...I am running on coffee and pure adrenaline, and I just want..." her eyes twisted to look at him and she added, "You know what I want."

"Oh, yeah I do," he said, smirking. "Same thing I want. Soon." He cracked his knuckles and asked, "Where's Fin?"

"Talking to Ramirez again," she said. She reached behind her and pulled the file up off of Fin's desk. "He brought this back from the Angels of Mercy. Twelve years ago, when Sarah Bramson went to pick up Valerie, Ramirez was with her. He lied to us."

"Doesn't surprise me," Elliot said.

"Maybe this will," she said, tugging absently on his tie. "I'm pretty certain Goren and Eames investigated the place, a week before Valerie was adopted. It might be how Sarah met Goren." She pulled on his tie again, a bit harder, and turned her eyes up at him. Maybe some big, strong, intimidating IAB guy should go pay them both a little visit."

His nose twitched, his lip curled, and he shifted his weight and tugged on his pants. "Fucking hell," he whispered, "You didn't have to ask me in that seductive little bedroom voice, you know."

"It makes you move faster," she said, winking. "I want this done. Tonight, El."

He nodded. "Me, too, Liv. Or, uh, should I say, Captain Stabler." He saluted, turned on his heels, and headed out hoping that Goren had pulled himself together enough to remember something from so long ago, and praying he could get a hold of Detective Alexandra Eames.

Peace and Love

Jo

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