After taking a sip of the strong black coffee she had brewed, Olivia buried her face in her hands, her fingers slowly massaging her temples and forehead, hoping her headache would somehow dissipate. She glanced at the clock that indicated it was almost 2:00am. It had been almost three hours since the Broadway Producer Ms. Babcock had paid SVU a visit.

Women of her type do not always come to the police to report crimes against them. They dislike the feeling of vulnerability, and the invasion of their privacy. More often they would deem to resolve it themselves or ignore the crime like it never happened. Olivia admired her strength of character and her tenacity to fight and put an end to the crime. Nip it in the bud so to speak.

She walked in purposefully in her formal gown, demanded to talk to the detective in charge and settled in one of the empty chairs in their receiving area. One of the officers on the night shift called Olivia and upon meeting her uttered an expletive gratitude to the heaves which made Olivia smile inwardly.

"Thank god it's a woman! Heaven knows things get done when a woman is in charge," exclaimed Ms. Babcock.

Olivia liked her immediately despite her seemingly authoritative and overbearing nature and led Ms. Babcock to her cubicle.

"I'm Detective Benson. Please have a seat. Tell me what brings you to SVU," she asked directly. She knew she need not coddle her or reassure her. The woman looked agitated but unafraid. There was a look of determination in her eyes and not uncertainty.

"I'm CC Babcock, and I'm a Broadway Producer. I came to the precinct to report a stalker. I was told to come up here to SVU. I don't understand I said I wasn't assaulted but I was told threatening letters and stalking had a possibility to lead to that," said Ms. Babcock.

"It's possible but let's hope it will not escalate to that. Tell me what happened from the beginning. Do not leave anything out. Anything you can think of or suspect that may be related to this, please tell me", said Olivia.

Ms. Babcock rubbed her hands, clasped and unclasped them, her expression pensive, choosing her words carefully, she paused a few seconds before looking directly back at Olivia.

"It started three weeks ago when a bunch of Hydrangeas were delivered to the Diamond Theater. The card was unsigned. It just said it was for me, so I left them in the little room we make out as an office when my business partner Maxwell Sheffield and I were there. The theater was leased to us for a year as it will be the venue for our upcoming musical Little Shop of Horrors. A few days later another bouquet of Hydrangeas were sent, still unsigned…"

"Weren't you curious? You didn't bother to ask or try to find out who they were from?" asked Olivia.

"I have better things to do than investigating the sender of the flowers. If he didn't want me to know who he was then fine. I'm too busy to play his game," said Ms. Babcock.

Olivia sighed secret admirers are often lethal admirers and people are unaware of this. Ms. Babcock's indifference to other people may very well increase her ignorance when something becomes an apparent threat to her. She urged her to continue.

"It didn't bother me really, even after these cut out letters with a horrible rhyme and poor vocabulary started coming in. I just dismissed them until the third one came and no matter how I rationalize it, it sounded like a threat."

She handed a large white envelope with a Fairmont Hotel logo and upon inspecting the contents Olivia found three letters. Each with cut out letters to form a message.

The first note read:

Roses are Red

Violets are Blue

I love your eyes as rare as Hydrangea Blue

The second note read:

A Lovely Dress You Wear

I cannot help but Stare

Look Up and Be Aware

The third note read:

You better watch your back

I am near you

And when you least expect me

I shall take you

Olivia was aghast.

"When did you receive this?"

"The third letter was left in our office at the Diamond Theater a week ago," she replied.

"And you waited three weeks to report this?" asked Olivia, raising her voice a notch.

She normally wouldn't be hard on women reporting crimes, but Ms. Babcock looked like a smart woman that can take care of herself and it was foolhardy to wait a week. The perpetrator could have struck, and by then it may be too late.

"I would have reported it sooner, but I was out of state on a business trip with Maxwell and had forgotten about this until tonight…"

CC Babcock suddenly looked terrified. Her blue eyes bore into Olivia's big amber ones.

Instinctively, Olivia held her hand to reassure her, and encourage her to continue. It was a sudden change in her demeanor. It reminded Olivia of herself. Sometimes even strong women breakdown and needed help. Everyone needed help sometimes.

"We had our cast party tonight in Maxwell's house for everyone involved in our recently concluded show at the Circle in the Square Theater, and to my horror all the flowers were Hydrangeas when it should have been tulips. It was like he was threatening me. He was getting closer. He knew where I was and where I work. Max's house is our regular office. I am there every day. Suddenly I don't feel safe."

Olivia couldn't help but feel compassion towards her. She had gone through the same thing when she was almost assaulted a year ago. She had to remain tough even if she was slowly breaking inside due to the trauma. A single, strong, independent woman with no one to tun to or talk to. Only have yourself to rely on. She understood what she was going through.

"This Maxwell. How long have you known him? Is it possible he may have a grudge, or does he have feelings for you that you may be unaware of?" asked Olivia gently.

CC would have laughed if she wasn't so scared. Maxwell having feelings for her? He had always been so dense about her feelings, and now he was even willing to throw her under the bus to that womanizer Tyrone Michaels.

She shook her head. "No, we have known each other for more than ten years. What we have is strictly business."

"Have you told him about this?" asked Olivia.

"Nah. He wouldn't care," said CC matter-of-factly.

Olivia could sense pain in her voice that she tried to conceal with her tough exterior.

"Listen, Ms. Babcock. I too have a partner, sort of like a business partner in your term, what we have is strictly work but we do care a lot about each other. We got each other's back. I'm sure Maxwell also cared for you," said Olivia kindly.

CC didn't say anything. She highly doubts Lt. Benson was right. It was bad enough Maxwell chose that Nanny Fine over her, what a big insult to her, but now he was pushing her to a…. a handsome superstar that makes every woman swoon. Okay maybe he thought he was doing her a favor, but the man discards women like he discards a costume, without a care in the world, without looking back. No need to wear it again since the show is over, and she didn't want to be a discarded costume.

Inspecting the threatening letters left by Ms. Babcock, Olivia would hand them over to the lab for fingerprinting analysis first thing at 8am. Ms. Babcock looked distraught when she left the precinct, and Olivia had expressed her concern as she was living alone, her housekeeper was a stay-out, but her fears were allayed by the fact that Ms. Babcock lived in one of the most expensive condominiums in Manhattan with a very tight security. Yet, you never know, the perpetrator may be her next-door neighbor.

Massaging her temples had alleviated her headache. Assessing the case, the perpetrator didn't know about her office at Maxwell Sheffield's house until recently as everything was sent to the Diamond Theater. How did he find out about the party?

Olivia sighed; they had better catch him before he catches Ms. CC Babcock.