DISCLAIMER: Law & Order: Special Victims Unit and all characters are property of NBC and Dick Wolf…with some play given to USA. All supplementary characters are completely fictitious.

PS: Sorry for the heinous delays, kids. Life happens!

PPS: Reviews, gotta love 'em, I know I do!

WINDOW

Chapter 9: Cloak & Dagger

Olivia woke with a start. Something shook her awake and she scrambled to sit upright, almost hitting her head on the upper bunk. The crib was empty, quiet. Motionless. She was alone. Perhaps it had been a dream that woke her, but she couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that had drawn her from her sleep. She fell back down on the bunk and folded her hands behind her head, staring blankly at the tight pattern of springs forming the bunk overhead. She breathed deeply and tried to bring her thoughts back around to the case.

These were the facts: Tawny Davis had been murdered by at least two men. Their prints were left in blood all over the scene, dressed to look like an unconvincing suicide, but they were not in the system. They left Tawny's body in a hotel room rented under a pseudonym often used by a high-ranking, low-life political kingpin. Two… almost three nights ago shots were fired at Lucy's home at intruders attempting to find…

Olivia drew a blank. What were they looking for?

She let the facts wash over her, hoping to pick out whatever might be missing. Maybe they'd find some answers in the mystery safety deposit box that matched the key Lucy had surrendered to them. Liv and Elliott were going to the bank in a few hours with warrant in hand ready to unmask whatever mystery was rattling her cage.

Even Liv's dreams had fallen plague to her obsession, and visions of Tawny on the slab lingered, winding their way through her dreams and waking life. Each time her eyes closed, Olivia found herself back in the morgue; she'd pull back the sheet to reveal the wall-eyed girl, the limp, dark hair hanging over the edge, the pale gray tinge of skin; then suddenly Tawny's hair would shimmer silver blonde, the eyes would flash ice blue and Olivia would wake with a start.

Alex had often haunted the detective's dreams, but in the past she'd wake feeling warm and hopeful, rather than terse and frightened. Olivia turned over onto her side and curled into herself. She missed Alex, and wished they could talk or touch. Anything to replace these dark thoughts of the detective's in-between hours. Brighter musings over the absent blonde carried Olivia into a brief but peaceful, dreamless sleep.

Alex paced in the hotel room, not knowing what to do or who to call. She couldn't even decide how she was feeling! What was this fluttering in her stomach? Fear? Joy? Guilt? She didn't know how to even begin to process what just happened. She simply let it happen. She touched her lithe fingers to her lips and recalled the touch of Lucy's on her own. As soon as she did it was not Lucy's, but another woman's face consuming her thoughts. Why had she just sat there and let herself be kissed. Was she so untrue and cowardly? She should have said no or stop. But she couldn't hurt Lucy that way. To wound such a fragile human being with further rejection. She rejected Lucy... didn't she? Shouldn't she?

There was no question that any further actions, other than backtracking and complete professionalism, should be strictly avoided. But why was she so willing to do otherwise? Was she so starved for contact? Was Lucy just a poor substitute for what she really needed? Alex mulled over these and many more questions as she pulled her cell phone from the pocket of her slacks and hit the speed dial. She shook her head, ashamed and frustrated and waited through the ringing and the tell-tale pickup. "Alex?"

"George, I'm sorry to bother you so late at night, but I didn't know who else to call. I'm not sure what's happening," Alex hissed into her cell phone. She was alone in her hotel room, the adjoining door locked and latched. "I'm –" Alex paused, "I don't know, I don't know what to do."

"Alex, it's all right. Take a breath," Dr. George Huang, moments earlier, had been roused by the ringing of his cell phone. Now, he was talking to a flustered ADA, trying to cull a complete sentence from a string of frantic exclamations. "Do you need me to meet you? Are you alright? Are you safe?"

Alex stuttered, "Y-yes. I'm fine. Maybe not fine. Safe, yes. Fine?" Alex could almost feel the words fall from her lips; they had a palpable sting. She was angry and confused and overwhelmed and worried and–

"Take a deep breath," George coaxed, "slow and deep."

Alex took a moment and inhaled, taking in a breath of desperately needed air. Then, before she could take stock of her emotions, her panic got the better of her, "She kissed me!"

Dr. Huang faltered and waited to see how and if Alex was going to continue. He wasn't quite sure how to proceed at this juncture. He wasn't sure what might be upsetting Alex the most: the fact that she was kissed by another woman, who that woman was, what might be implied by such an action or Alex's own mixture of feelings regarding all of the above. George simply waited.

"I think something must be wrong. It's too soon." Alex exclaimed. "Not me, please not me. I have…" Alex slowed to carefully choose her next word. She weighed her options, and though she trusted the good doctor, so decided to adopt a bit of anonymity. "…someone. I have someone. She can't. She just can't. Not me."

George spoke in soft, dulcet tones. "Alex, are you talking about Lucy?" He took her silence as confirmation. "I see."

"I have someone," Alex repeated, "Someone I wanted. Want!" she corrected herself, "Someone I want. I was caught off guard, trying to take care, and she… she was there, so fast. So fast. I didn't stop her. I feel so stupid. She kissed me, and in my head I thought, 'I don't want this.' But I couldn't stop, didn't push her away. I felt like the rejection would crush her. It was wrong."

"Alex, I know this must be confusing for you. Often victims who have suffered great loss look for comfort in ways we don't understand. Lucy has been missing the love she was once shown and may have likened your kind acts to the care and affection she was shown by her partner. By caring for her- about her well being -you aligned yourself with a strong feeling of love, that she's desperately missing."

"So I'm just a substitute, a stand in." Alex murmured to herself. "She doesn't know what she's done... What do I do? I don't want this. How do I say… without causing her pain or embarrassment."

George sighed. "Alex, may I ask, were you upset that you were kissed by someone of the same gender, or frustrated that Lucy pursued this unwanted advance?"

A sigh whistled in the doctors ear "George, I didn't stop her. Lucy. I didn't push her away. I let her kiss me. It's not that she's a woman," Alex almost hesitated, but if anyone would understand, George would. "believe me, it's not. But I didn't stop her. Maybe I didn't want to. I didn't think I wanted this. I don't." Alex breathed into the receiver and pushed an errant strand of hair off her face. "She's… we're… I thought I knew how I felt about things, George. What if I'm wrong. About everything."

Olivia had been at her desk for a few hours, poring over the case files when Elliot snatched her up fore their field trip to the bank. Now they were waiting for some suit to retrieve the safety deposit box from the safe. Olivia was tapping the pen chained to the bank desk and driving Elliot to the brink of insanity. "Liv!"

Elliot snapped his fingers in front of her face and she ceased her incessant tapping. "Thatta girl. Now, what's on your mind?" Elliot had seen the change in his partner: her sleepless dedication to this case, her avoidance of her own apartment and her violent subject changes at any mention of their ADA. He didn't want to push his partner, but she needed someone to lean on before she came apart at the seams and Elliot took it upon himself to be that person. Olivia looked at him quickly before her head snapped in the direction of the bank peon with the safety deposit box. Elliot let the evasion slide for now and turned to receive their newly acquired evidence.

Olivia crowded him and she pried open the metal box. Olivia gasped at its contents: neat stacks of crisp hundred dollar bills, what looked like letters, a signed note and a photograph of a young Maureen Deacon with newly appointed New York Supreme Court Justice, Torrence Blakely. Olivia stared blankly at the photograph, trying to connect dots that weren't forming any sort of picture. She knew that Torrence Blakely had recently won the election and had then used his political sway to swing Randall Newsome into the political spotlight. Blakely was Newsome's Rabbi; his protector and his stepping-stone.

"Liv! Look at this letter! Maureen had a non-disclosure contract with Blakely, it's right here." Elliot shuffled the letters, trying to find some sort of clues for the contract, now lying open on the desk. "There's also a letter from Newsome... Liv. Before she died, Tawny's mother was blackmailing both of them." Elliot looked up at his partner. "This letter is a death threat made against her family."