Manhattan County Court House

Monday, March 21^st

2:15 pm

“I call Detective Olivia Benson to the stand.”  Casey waited while Liv moved up from the gallery to stand and take the oath to tell ‘the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help her, God’ and then strode over to the witness stand.

Olivia looked up at Casey and smiled briefly.  She had been watching the attorney all morning and it always was such a pleasure to view the ADA in action.  Casey had gone through witness after witness, establishing the forensics of the case, and now it was up to her to paint the emotional picture for the jury.

“Detective, would you begin by telling us what you first saw when you walked into Sarah MacMurphy’s hospital room?”  Casey stood before the Jury Box, but directed her gaze at Olivia.

Leaning forward, Liv said, “I saw a girl who had been violated by a man she trusted.”

“Objection!  Assumes facts not in evidence.”  The defense attorney, a short, bulldog-faced man, jumped to his feet and glared at the detective.

Casey ground her teeth and said, “Judge Petrovsky, we have DNA –“ 

“Overruled, please continue, Miss Novak.”

“Detective Benson,” Casey said as she began to pace around the courtroom.  “Tell us what it’s like for someone who has been raped to be examined.”

Slowly, but methodically, Casey led Olivia through the process of the rape kit, taking every opportunity to remind the jury that the victim in the case was just a teenager.  The defense attempted to object, but the judge ruled that the jury had a right to know and understand the process of evidence collection.

When they got to where Sarah broke down and admitted that it was her uncle, juror number three wiped her eyes and glared at the defendant.  Sensing victory, Casey pressed on, taking the detective through until the uncle was arrested.

When it was the defense’s turn to question Olivia, they immediately attacked her past.

“Isn’t it true, Detective, that your own mother was raped and that you are, in fact, the product of that crime?”

“Objection!  What possible bearing could this have on the case?”

“It goes toward the detective’s state of mind when she interviewed Miss MacMurphy.  Detective Benson is clearly biased and would not be willing to accept that the girl had consensual sex with her uncle.”

“It was still her uncle and as far as I know, incest is illegal in New York.”  Casey’s jaw tensed.  How dare that scumbag drag Olivia’s past into her courtroom!

Petrovsky frowned.  “In chambers, now, all of you.” 

Once within the judge’s office, the diminutive brunette spent a good thirty seconds glaring at the defense lawyer.  Finally, she said, “Mr. Madison, as much as I detest your approach, it has some merit.”  Turning to Olivia, she said, “Detective Benson, can you, in all honesty, say that you would have listened if the victim had claimed it was consensual?”

“Judge Petrovsky, I try not to let my history interfere with my work.  If anything, I like to think that it makes it more imperative for me to get to the truth.  When I interviewed Sarah MacMurphy, I followed procedure to the letter.  Ask my partner – he was there when she confessed that it was her uncle who molested her.”

“Your honor, I object to this witness.  Detective Benson is clearly biased – why isn’t Detective Stabler here to testify?”

Lena turned to Casey.  “Well, Miss Novak?”

“Detective Stabler is investigating another matter, Your Honor, but I’m sure that if I call him, he’ll be more than willing to testify.”

Olivia’s ears were beginning to grow warm.  Anger seethed in her stomach and if she had been anywhere but in a judge’s chambers, she would have decked Richard Madison.  She was also not very happy with Casey, who didn’t seem to be putting up much of a fight on her behalf.  Damn it, Casey, I know we aren’t the best of friends, but you should have my back!

Casey took a breath and added, “However, I don’t think its necessary.  Detective Benson has years of experience working in Special Victims – surely she’s learned how to compartmentalize her emotions by now?” 

I didn’t think she’d noticed.  The anger drained as quickly as it had risen.  A cocky half grin flashed across Olivia’s face and she had to suppress the urge to stick her tongue out at Madison.

Petrovsky sat back and steepled her fingers.  “You’ve opened a can of worms, Mr. Madison.  Are you prepared to learn if they’re the bait you expected them to be?”  She gave the defense attorney a long, hard stare.

He swallowed but bravely stood his ground.  “My client would ask no less of me.”  Beside him, Edward MacMurphy smirked.  Casting his gaze at Casey, he added a slight leer as he gave her a long once over.

“Then let us return to the courtroom.”

Once everyone had retaken their positions, Petrovsky spoke.  “Detective Benson, I cannot see where your history has any bearing on this case other than that it leant you a certain ability to bond with the victim.  Objection sustained.  You may carry on Mr. Madison.”

The defense attorney grimaced.  “Detective Benson, did you at any time try to discover whether the sex was consensual?”

“I didn’t have to – the victim wasn’t of age to consent.”

“So you’re saying that you never looked for any other explanation other than rape?”

Olivia pressed her lips together.  “Again, I didn’t have to.  The victim claimed that she had been molested and I treated the case as such.”

“But didn’t the girl later recant and say that she had wanted it?”  Madison’s smile was filled with equal parts of snake-like oiliness and shark-like wildness.

This was the part that Casey had been dreading.  Under pressure from her mother, who was being supported by MacMurphy, Sarah recanted and said that she had gone to her uncle willingly.  However, when Olivia had questioned her about this, she had broken down and admitted what her mother had made her do.

“Sarah was pressured by her mother –“

“Yes or no, Detective: Did Sarah MacMurphy recant her accusation?”

Juror’s five and seven looked mildly ill.  Two and nine were twitching, a possible sign that they were growing irritated with the defense.  All to the good as far as Casey was concerned.

Olivia gritted her teeth and growled, “Yes.”

“Thank you, Detective,” Madison said, directing a shark like grin to Casey.  He sat down and spoke softly to his client.  Edward MacMurphy directed a leering smile in Olivia’s direction but otherwise schooled his face to bored impassivity.

“Redirect, Your Honor?”

Petrovsky nodded.  Casey stood and went to the side of the witness box.  Looking at the jury, she said, “Detective Benson, when Sarah recanted, what action did you take?

“I spoke with her at length to determine why she had suddenly changed her story.”

“And when you found out about her mother’s involvement?”

“I arrested Mrs. MacMurphy for witness tampering and placed Sarah in a foster home.”

“Thank you, Detective.”

Once excused, Olivia headed for the gallery.  Halfway there, she felt the buzzing of her cell.  Exiting the court room, she flipped open her phone and read the text message from Elliot.

Reynolds is a quack, but she had some interesting things to say.  See you at the house.

16^th Precinct Squad Room

Monday, March 21^st

Early Evening

Half a box of chow mein sat on Olivia’s desk, left over from her hurriedly consumed dinner.  Elliot was going over his interview with Brenda Reynolds while she shuffled through notes pertaining to the case.

A newspaper bearing the headline, “DETECTIVES SAY NO LEADS ON ICEBOX KILLER” glared at the squad from its position of infamy on the incident board.  It had joined four other clippings with similar headlines.  They were a goad to get the detectives thinking.  Sixteen victims were sixteen victims too many and One Police Plaza had finally decided that it was time to devote more energy into solving the case.

More energy didn’t equal much other than a few more bodies to help dig through files, but it was enough to keep what would have been a back-burnered case alive.

Across from her, Elliot was chewing on the end of his pencil as he went over his notes from his interview with Professor Brenda Reynolds. 

“She was an odd bird,” he said, tapping the notebook.

“Brenda Reynolds is known for her rather draconian views on the male/female dynamic,” George Huang said.  He was pacing the room, cradling his chin between his thumb and forefinger.  “I’ve attended a few of her lectures – she’s very fond of the maiden/hero ideal.”

“Rescue me o fair prince?” Munch quipped.

“Yes, exactly.  Rapunzel in her tower, Sleeping Beauty in her bed – she teaches that women all want to be treated like the romantic half of a child’s fairy tale.”

“I can imagine how hard that must have been for her husband to live up to,” Olivia said. 

“Yeah, most guys have a hard enough time trying to remember their girl’s birthdays.”  Fin shook his head. 

“Well, I checked around and it seems that the good Professor’s husband passed away a few years ago, so Cinderella has been without her Prince Charming for a while now.”  Elliot scratched his head.  “What’s getting to me is her choice of words… they’re far too similar to the killer’s notes for coincidence.”

“Perhaps the killer knows her, or is familiar with her work?  He could have taken her class – it fits with the profile of a well educated man,” Huang said softly.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Stabler said.  “Maybe Novak should subpoena Reynolds’ class list.”

“So, our killer was or is a psych student?  Wouldn’t be the first time a head shrinker resorted to murder as a cure for what ails his patients.”  Detective Munch grimaced sardonically. 

Cragen came out of his office.  “Okay people, you’re spinning your wheels.  Go home.  Get some sleep.  Tomorrow you can tackle this with fresh eyes.  Olivia, Novak called – she wanted to remind you that Sarah’s testifying in the morning.”

“Right.  See you guys tomorrow.”  Olivia gathered her jacket and headed for home.

Office of the Medical Examiner

Friday, March 25^th

Early Afternoon

“You called us down here?” Olivia said to Warner as she opened the door to the ME’s office.

“Yeah, I found something on Wendy Roberts’ underwear.  DNA – male, most likely Caucasian, type A blood.  CODIS came up empty, so did VICAP.  We’re running it through other databases now.”  Melinda’s caramel colored skin was rendered ochre by the fluorescent lighting.  Standing, she walked over to a table bearing several boxes of files and lifted a loose manila folder off the top and handed it to Stabler. 

“What’s this?”

“I.D. on victim number eight.  Tanya Morris, prostitute, found two years ago buried about six feet from where Wendy was discovered.  An organization that looks for missing persons matched her DNA to a woman in Connecticut who’d been looking for her estranged sister.”

“Cause of death?”  Liv peered over her partner’s shoulder as he thumbed through the report.  There wasn’t much – she remembered the case.  The killer had been pretty clean on that one.  The link was the broken statue of justice and the cut up underwear.

“The hyoid was intact, so I’d say he didn’t strangle her, but there was a three inch long fracture on the left occipital ridge.  Blunt force trauma.  I’d say he used a pipe, or a baseball bat given the depth and shape of the injury.”

“What about a nightstick?” Elliot asked, thinking about their early postulation that the perp was involved in law enforcement.

“No, a nightstick would have left a thinner impression.  Look here,” Warner said, removing several X-Rays and sticking them into a lightbox.  “This is the perimeter of the impression.”  She reached into a nearby container and pulled out a nightstick and held it up to the negative.  It was clearly smaller than the wound area. 

“Okay, so not a nightstick.  If we find a weapon, could you match it?” Liv said while scribbling on her notepad.

“Yes, I think so.”

Liv’s cell rang.  “Benson.”  She stepped out into the hall while her partner continued to speak to Warner.  “Casey, hey, how’d it go?”

“Guilty, on all counts.”  The smugness of victory was crystal clear in the ADA’s voice.  “We did it Liv!”

“No, you did it, Case.  Good job.”  Olivia smiled briefly.  One more scumbag off the streets.

Office of ADA Novak

Friday, March 25^th

Early Afternoon

There was a collection of flowers sitting in a vase on the sideboard today.  Every day for the last week, she had found a single blossom on her desk.  Each had come with a card bearing a simple, yet pleasant inscription.

“To begin the dance of desire, one must first court the fields of want,” was the second card but the first such note.  It accompanied a single red carnation.

Then came, “To pay thee court, I, my face masked, come to thy hall.”  The flower it was attached to was a beautiful white gardenia.

Day three brought, “To thy side, I shall fly where upon your lips my name shall cry.”  The pinkness of the rose was a hair off of red.

On the fourth day, the card was attached to a peony that had been carefully dyed a mottling of pink and red.  “To charity’s touch upon my skin from wanted be.  You in my heart upon my hearth and in my bed.”

Casey perused the cards.  The handwriting was a little too even to be real and after a little bit of work looking at the fonts on her computer, she realized that each card had been printed.  It did not lessen the impact of the words, however. 

She’s a poet. At least, she hoped it was she, as in Olivia… who else could it be?

Even Jamie Ray seemed convinced that her Girl in Blue, as she called her, was paying her subtle court.

Which was why, when she had Liv on the phone, she decided to ask, “Would you like to celebrate with drinks later?”

“I can’t.  I’m jammed up with three cases besides the Icebox killings.”

Casey tried not to feel too disappointed.  “I understand.  I’ll take a rain check.”

“You got it.”

16^th Precinct Squad Room

Sunday, March 27^th

Afternoon

“Daniel Kline, aged twenty-three, lives with a roommate in a one bedroom apartment in Flatbush.”  Elliot taped a picture of the geeky clerk to the incident board.

“Professor Brenda Reynolds, fifty-seven, widowed, lives alone in Gramercy Park.”  Olivia taped up a faculty photo of the professor next to Daniel’s picture.

“So what do they have in common with our vics?” Cragen said.  “Aside from the obvious connection to Wendy Roberts.”

“The other victim’s families didn’t recognize either of them,” Munch said. 

“And ain’t none of them could say whether their girls had any friends who were on the downlow,” Fin added.

A desk sergeant came in and handed Olivia a piece of paper, which she opened and read.  Her face drained of all color and she said, “Guys…” 

They crowded around to read the note.

SHE WILL BE WANTED.

%%%

The precinct was a crowded mess.  Officers and detectives danced the dance of the exhausted as they attempted to do the impossible – identify the previously unidentifiable Icebox killer. 

He was out there, hunting, and they knew neither his name nor the name of his intended victim.  Frustrated rage hung over the squad room like a miasma of foul smoke.  No one had slept in over a day.  Novak was riding their butts, Cragen was up at One PP trying to come up with the best way to spin the new information to the public without causing a panic and Olivia’s head felt like it was about ready to burst.

Almost all of Warner’s staff was going over every last shred of evidence from the previous cases.  Two more bodies had been identified.  Two more families could now have closure, but it wasn’t enough.  They were still no closer to an answer.

Even the FBI had gotten involved, via Huang.  He had made the decision that the killer was escalating and that if they didn’t catch him soon, another woman would die.  Yet even with the extra resources, the squad kept running into dead ends.

The DNA had turned up blank again and again on every database.  Even Interpol had come back empty.  Their last, best hope made everyone on the task force cringe – to find a match within the records of law enforcement personnel.

Running her fingers through her hair, Liv looked at her partner and said, “Okay, so where are we with Dan Kline?”

“No where.  Everyone I’ve talked to says that he’s a nice, if somewhat shy kid.  If he’s gay, no one has either noticed or cared.”  Elliot sat back in his chair and frowned.  His shirt was rumpled, his tie had long been abandoned in favor of a more casual appearance and the hair on one side of his head was smashed flat from his last nap in the crib.

“And Brenda?”

“Kooky, but incapable of murder.”

“Doesn’t she have a kid?  What do we know about him?”  Liv closed her eyes and tried to recall if anything had been mentioned about the professor’s son.

Elliot shuffled through a pile of papers.  “James Reynolds.  Aged twenty-nine.  Lives with, well this is interesting – up until a few weeks ago, he lived with Daniel Kline.”

“Why didn’t we know this before?”  Liv started to push off her exhaustion.  “What else do we know about James?”  Her blood began to race, chasing away the threads of sleep that had begun to overtake her mind.

“Well his mother is a quack –“  Elliot continued to read from the notes.  “He works as a night security guard at a bank, likes to work out, oh and he’s a drag queen.”

Munch sat on the edge of their desk.  “Charming.  Sounds like mommy did a real number on him.  Maybe we should be talking to him… he had access to at least one victim through his roommate.”

“The roomie that mommy said was gay.  Maybe she wasn’t all that quacked,” Fin said.

“Why don’t we go pay him a visit?” Elliot said as he stood and put on his jacket.

Apartment of ADA Casey Novak

Monday, March 28^th

Evening

Casey quickly changed clothes.  It had been over twenty four hours since she’d showered and she wanted to at least feel a little less scungy before appearing on the late news.  They were going public with a smattering of information in the hopes that someone would come through with the golden tip.

While she was home, she nuked two slices of day old pizza, ate and watered her plants.  Just as she was getting ready to go, there was a knock on her door.

Daniel Kline’s Apartment

Monday, March 28^th

Evening

“Jamie?  He, I mean she’s probably at the Bellflower, Detectives.  Its margarita night and she likes to dance for the boys.”  He smiled wistfully.

“You didn’t mention that you were gay, before, Daniel,” Stabler said.  Disapproval colored his tone.  He was still playing the fatherly role.

Daniel laughed.  “I’m not, Detective.  James isn’t my lover, Jamie is and she’s as feminine as she can be.”  There was a wildness to his eyes that suggested that Daniel didn’t exactly function on all cylinders.  There was also a pungent odor of marijuana emanating from the flat. 

Elliot looked at Liv and his expression clearly stated, “Nut job.”

“Do you mind if we come in and look around?”

Shrugging, Daniel said, “Sure.  I have nothing to hide.”  He turned away from them and gave them a quick tour. 

They came to a room that was bare of personal items.  Slipping on gloves, Elliot said, “Was this James’ room?”

“Yeah, his mom would freak if she knew about Jamie.”

Yeah, I bet she would.  Her macho son isn’t so macho in a dress.

“Do you mind if we take a look inside?” Olivia said.  Elliot put his hand on his cell.  If he had to, he would call Novak and have her rush a warrant.  With the current state of frenetic activity over the Icebox killer, there wasn’t a judge in New York City who would deny the pretty ADA’s request.

“I don’t care.  James moved most of his things back to his mom’s place anyhow,” Daniel said laconically. 

The two detectives made quick work out of tearing apart the bedroom, seeking anything that might be a clue.  Liv flipped the mattress and box spring off the frame and stopped. 

“Elliot, look,” she said, reaching down toward something on the ground.  It was a baseball bat.

Elliot’s nostrils flared.  This was something real.  A cold investigation suddenly flared into a bonfire of possibilities.

Liv examined the bat and stopped when she came to a dark blotchy area at the tip.  “Blood.  Layers of it,” she whispered.

“Where’s the Bellflower,” Elliot said to Daniel.

“Upper West Side… “ 

When the location was revealed, Olivia’s first thought was, Casey’s apartment is three blocks from there.

Stabler closed his phone.  “CSU is on the way.  I’ll stay here, you go get the bastard.”

“I’ll have Munch and Fin meet me there,” she said as she exited the Kline apartment.

The Bellflower

Monday, March 28^th

Evening

The nightclub was hopping.  Liv’s badge barely got her in the door.  At the bar, she had to yell to be heard and then was disappointed to learn that “Jamie Ray” as James Reynolds’ alter ego was know, was not in attendance. 

“She said something about getting a friend first,” the bartender said as he handed out drinks.

Olivia affected a curious expression.  “Really?  Jamie said she’d wait for me.  Do you know where she went?”

The bartender frowned.  “Uh, yeah, I think it was Casey’s place.”

“Casey?”  Liv’s heart went triple time.

“Yeah, Casey, um, Noviv …uh,no, Nova erm, Novak, Casey Novak – I think she’s a cop or something.”

“Assistant District Attorney,” Liv muttered.  “Thanks,” she added, smiling brightly.

On her way out, she radioed to Munch and Fin.  “Novak’s place.  He’s headed there.  I don’t know how, but the bastard’s after Casey!”

She started to run.  Half way to Casey’s apartment, she heard Fin yell, “Liv, get in!”

The door to a dark blue unmarked sedan opened only feet away from her.  She dove in and the car was speeding up before she had closed the door.

“Warner called,” Fin said as Olivia tapped the window restlessly.

“Yeah?”

“DNA’s a match to a sample we had on file for Reynolds’ guard card.”  The car came to a squealing stop.  The detectives piled out and headed for the ADA’s building.

Six flights of stairs seemed to fly by as she and Munch raced to Casey’s door. 

Apartment of ADA Novak

Monday, March 28^th

Evening

“Just a minute,” Casey called as she finished putting her on her jacket.  Peering through the peephole, she spotted Jamie Ray standing in the hall.  “Hey, girl,” she said as she opened the door.  “I’m a little busy for margarita night –“

“You are wanted,” Jamie whispered and rushed her. 

All Casey saw were gloved hands reaching for her throat and it was enough to snap her back into the nightmare that was the Zergin case. 

“No!” she shouted, twisting away and reaching for the baseball bat that she kept near the door for just such a happenstance. 

%%%

The strident tone of Casey Novak’s voice slammed into Olivia like a brick wall.

“Casey!”  Adrenalin spiked and sent her into a burst of speed that carried her up the last two steps, down the hall and into the attorney’s apartment. 

Casey was struggling with a tall female figure.  Drawing her gun, Olivia shouted, “James!  Stop!”

The drag queen jumped as though she’d been slapped.  Turning her head she looked at Olivia and smiled wickedly.  “You didn’t want her enough.”  One hand shot out and grabbed Casey by the throat and lifted her off the ground. 

“James, listen to me – put Casey down, James.  Come on, just let her go and we can go talk about this.”  Olivia’s voice was soothing, soft, and pleading.

Laughing, James said, “Are you going to give me justice, Detective?  Will you sit on me until I break and my sordid little story comes spilling out?”  He looked at her with wild eyes.  “Will you offer me your compassion, Officer?”  The hands around Casey’s throat tightened.  “So sweet,” he whispered, turning his gaze to his captive.  In a parody of love, he bent his head and brushed a single kiss on the attorney’s lips.

Casey kicked weakly at the queen.  Her face was beginning to turn purple.  When James kissed her, her lips twisted into a rictus and she struggled to speak.

James cocked his head and looked at the ADA.  “What’s the matter baby, having trouble breathing?  Maybe you’ll understand what it feels like to be me!” 

Olivia cocked the gun.  The sound was deafening.  “James, let Casey go or I will have to shoot you.”

“Shoot me then, Detective.”  The queen moved with the speed of a boxer, pulling Casey in against his body.  The motion forced him to release the death grip he had on the attorney’s throat, allowing her to take in several heaving gasps of air.

“Jamie, why?” Casey whispered brokenly.  Have to hold it together.  Can’t let Liv kill him.  He’s got to go to trial. 

James laughed.  It was a dry, bitter, and mirthless sound.  “If you knew my mother, Casey girl, you wouldn’t ask me that.”

Despite herself, Casey snorted.  “You can’t blame your mother for attempting to kill me.”

The words seemed to hit James harder than bullets.  Staggering, he shook his head as if to clear it.  “No, I – I only – you needed to be, Casey you said you wanted to be wanted… I want you, don’t you understand?” 

Gone was the confident queen who had burst through her door.  The man holding her now was cracking, on the verge of shattering into a thousand pieces.  He clung to her, squeezing until she felt her ribs creak and grind together.  Pain flared along her side and Casey gasped.  “Jamie, please –“

“I want you,” he whispered and plastered a torrent of unwanted kisses along the side of her head.  “Doesn’t that make you happy?  Mother says that you have to give a woman what they want.  You have to treasure them, and I do … I really do!”

“Jamie - James, let me go.  I don’t want you.”  Casey sounded truly sad.

Tears poured from the queen’s heavily painted eyes and the makeup streaked his face with dark lines.  “Casey, don’t make me… you have to want me.  I want you,” he pled brokenly. 

“No, Jamie.  You know that… you know who I want,” Casey said softly.

“But… you said that you were just imagining things…”  Confusion dominated James’ tone.  His arms began to loosen and the attorney relaxed marginally.

Casey sighed.  “That doesn’t mean that my feelings have changed.”  She put her hands on James’ arms.  “Let me go, Jamers.  Please.  Don’t make Olivia shoot you.”

For the first time, Casey looked at the detective.  What she saw made her even more determined to talk James into surrendering.  Olivia had death in her eyes.  It sent a tiny thrill of fear laden desire through the ADA.  She’d kill for me.

There was something else in her face.  A hint, a signal – Casey looked at Liv’s hands and nearly burst out laughing.  Curve ball.  The ADA took a breath and said, “James, please – let me go.  We can go and talk about this peacefully.”

“Casey, I don’t want to talk.  I just want you to want me,” James said plaintively.

Liv gave a slight nod.

“Let her go or I’ll give you an air conditioned skull.”  Fin Tutuola’s voice grated into the conversation.  The detective was only slightly out of breath from having to climb up a fire escape, break into Casey’s bedroom window and make his way into the hall without attracting notice.

James swallowed and then, let Casey go.  Putting up his arms, he softly said, “I guess there’s just no justice for an old queen.”

Apartment of Detective Olivia Benson

Friday, April 7th

Late Afternoon

The beer was warm.  Liv wiped her mouth and took another drink anyway.

“You said you wanted to be wanted…”  The words echoed in the detective’s mind.  She sat in her apartment, staring at the boring artwork that decorated her walls.  Aesthetically, they weren’t anything exciting, but the still lives and landscapes were better scenery than the mire that was her mind.

Two weeks had gone by since they had collared James Reynolds.  That he was loopier than a box of Cheerios was a given – once back at the station, the queen had willingly spilled his guts, copping to every single case including five they hadn’t discovered.  Through it all, Casey had sat and held James’ hand while ADA Kelly Gaffney took his statement.

Casey had also made sure that James had the best representation possible.  When Olivia had asked why she had gone to such lengths for the serial killer, the attorney had only said, “Jamie Ray was my friend.  She listened to me when I needed someone to lean on.  How can I abandon her now?”

She had turned over all of the notes and the flowers, which were linked to a single florist within walking distance of Casey’s office.  James had readily admitted to sending them, as well as to sending letters to all of his victims.

James Reynolds was serving a life sentence within the walls of a state mental facility and Olivia hadn’t seen Casey since the young man had been led away in handcuffs.

District Attorney Arthur Branch had mandated that Casey take some time off, which the ADA did.  He had also suggested that she spend that time off in the loving arms of her family, which was where she was now. 

Olivia didn’t even have a phone number, and Casey’s cell was off. 

“You said you wanted to be wanted…” 

Who, Casey?  Who did you want to want you?  Was it me?  My heart wants it to be true, but my head says that I’m just fantasizing.

She took another drink of warm beer.

Novak Family Home

Saturday, April 8^th

Morning

“Casey, why won’t you stay a little longer?”  David Novak looked at his daughter pleadingly. 

“Daddy, I can’t.  I need to get back to work.”  Casey smiled at her father and turned to leave.

“But honey, that freak tried to kill you!  Surely your boss can give you a few weeks off!”

“That freak was my friend, Dad.  He’s sick, not evil!”  Stopping, the attorney swallowed a sigh.  Casey was growing tired of having to defend James to everyone, even her psychologist.  Dr. Kendal had come highly recommended and she had been instrumental in helping Casey to overcome her fear of working late after she’d been attacked in her office.  Of course, it also helped that she never went anywhere without a can of pepper spray and that she kept an ever-growing collection of baseball bats stashed in strategic places around her home and office.

And if I’d remembered to keep my damn keys on the counter, I might have saved Fin a hell of a climb.

Hefting her overnight bag onto her shoulder, Casey continued walking toward her car.  It was time to go home.  There were bad guys to put away, and Arthur Branch had never been more right when she said that she would want it.  There was a fire inside of her that never seemed to go out, and had only burned low since the attack.  It was beginning to flare again.

David chased after her.  “Honey, I’m not saying that!  I love you, and I want you to be safe.”  Concern was etched onto his lined, world-weary face.  “You’re my baby girl, Casey and that damn city has tried to kill you twice now.  Can’t you come home?  Surely you could get a job with the DA’s office here?”  The where it’s safer was unspoken.

Standing at the door to her car, Casey ran her fingers through her hair and smiled up at her father.  “Dad, I’ll be safe, I promise.”  She lifted her keys up, displaying a can of pepper spray.  “Won’t leave home without it.”

“Casey –“  He reached out and captured her face in his hands.  Smoothing her hair away from her face, he said, “You are my dearest little girl, you know that?  It would kill me if something happened to you.”

“Daddy,” Casey whispered as she dropped her bag and was engulfed in a tight embrace.  “I’m okay, really.”

“Thanks to your detectives.  If they hadn’t arrived when they did –“

“Don’t think of that, Dad.  It’s over now.  I need to go back.  There are others, people like me who are still trapped in their personal Hells and they need me Daddy.”  The conviction in her voice was solid, bone deep and bound to every iota of her expression.  And Olivia is in New York…  A tiny smile bowed her lips.

Letting her go, David fondly ruffled her hair.  “So, next time, you’ll bring the one who puts the secret smile on your face?”

Ah shit, I didn’t know he’d seen that.

Casey blushed.  “Dad there’s no –“

“Don’t lie to your father, Casey-boo.  Just bring her home with you next time.”  He leaned in and kissed her forehead.  “Go and do your job, Boo-boo.  Call me when you get home.”

“I love you Daddy.”

“Love you too.”

Casey picked up her bag, got in her car and headed for New York.

Highway somewhere between New York City and Alexandria, VA

Saturday, April 8^th

Late Afternoon

The messages rolled by in a monotone as Casey drove.  Most were from co-workers wishing her a speedy recovery, as if having had the life nearly choked out of her by someone she considered a friend was akin to having the flu.

It had been like this before, after Zergin had put her in the hospital.  Even though they wallowed in human misery, the cops and lawyers she worked with had trouble dealing with it when it struck close to home.  Platitudes were easily spoken, and she could remember a time when they had fallen from her lips to cascade on the emotional armor that Fin Tutuola wore with all the aplomb of a medieval knight.  I wonder if he felt then like I do now? 

She wanted to tell the well wishers that she was fine, but they would know the truth.  They would know, all too well, the hidden, barely healed wounds that would eventually scar.  Once, someone had told her that they did the job they did because there was no one else, and at the time, she hadn’t really grasped it. 

Now, she did.  Casey Novak was headed home to a life of weekly shrink visits and daily headaches because she was needed.

%%%

The messages blurred on, but there was only one voice that the ADA wanted to hear.  Just one, single voice, and yet, in all the many well wishes it never appeared. 

Did I dream it?  Was I hallucinating that night, when she looked at me, and I felt the weight of her desire wrap around me like a blanket fresh from the dryer?

Arthur Branch’s southern fried tones filled the tiny space of her car.  “Miss Novak, I know I sent you off to the bosom of your family but please remember that we need your services here.  Kibre and Gaffney are bustin’ my balls about your absence.”

Casey smiled.  Executive Assistant District Attorney Tracey Kibre and her assistant, ADA Kelly Gaffney had volunteered to take on her caseload while she was away.  She owed them big – perhaps she could see what she could do about swinging tickets to one of those frou-frou shows they liked so much. 

“Novak, get your sorry butt back here and help your team out.  We’re getting our asses handed to us by the Bronx vice team.”  Elliot’s voice was warm, filled with all the candor of a big brother and the wrong partner of her SVU squad from whom she wanted to hear.

“Yo, Case, baby, we need your special kind of pain in our asses, so haul that ghost face of yours back soon, ai’it?” 

Casey chuckled.  Fin’s dry voice was welcome, as was the next message.

“I heard a rumor that you’d been kidnapped by the men in black and dragged off for secret government testing.  If you wake up with a weird scar on your neck and the sudden urge to mate with tall, older men, give me a call.”

“In your dreams, John.” 

Several more messages from friends and co-workers she hadn’t heard from since she worked in White Collar came through, then another voice that made her smile.

“Casey, if you aren’t careful you’re going to have to get a tattoo on your forehead that says, ‘hit me I’m a good target’,” Mary Conway Clark, Casey’s mentor and friend, said good-naturedly. 

“Return call.”  The phone reacted to her command, and soon she heard the sound of a phone ringing.  When it was answered, she said, “RE: Tattoo – I was drunk.  Can we just let it go?”

“Well hello to you too, Casey,” Mary’s raspy voice came back filled with amusement.  “Where are you?”

“On the road.  Somewhere between here and there – story of my life.”

Mary chuckled.  “I saw James the other day.  He’s doing well.”

Casey briefly closed her eyes.  Moisture made them burn.  “Good.  I’m glad.”

“He wanted me to tell you –“

“He can tell me himself.”  Casey cut her off.  “He has to face me, Mary.  I won’t let him run away from that.”  Since being committed, James Reynolds had refused to have any contact with Casey, which only served to make the young attorney feel worse for her friend.

“He knows.  Casey, it’ll take time.  He’s not… you were right to call me.”  The weight of sadness in the older woman’s voice conveyed a host of information.  James Reynolds was diagnosed as clinically unable to serve in his own defense.  Until such time as he is able to pass a psychiatric exam, he will remain a guest of the state board of mental health. 

“He’s sick, Mary.  He needed help and the system failed him.  His mother is the one who should be serving life with no possibility.  Instead, she’ll just go on preaching her vile ideas to fresh minds.”  Bitterness tinged every word.  “That bitch ruined a man I was proud to call my friend.”

“Well, you can be consoled by this then – she quit her position at NYU.  It seems the shame of being the mother of one of the worst serial killers since Berkowitz was too much for her.”  Casey heard papers shuffling in the background.

“Did they ever find out why the broken statues?”  It was the one detail she hadn’t heard the night James had confessed.

“When he was nine, he was molested by a cop.  He was a friend of the family – one of Brenda’s ‘manly men’ that she used as an example for the young James to follow.” 

“So there really was no justice for him.”  Tears streaked Casey’s face.

“Not until it was too late,” Mary replied softly.  “Listen, Casey – could you… send him a card or something?  He would love to hear from you, even if he’s not ready to face you yet.”

A muscle in Casey’s jaw spasmed.  “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I ask.  So, how’s David?”

“Dad’s fine.”

“Did he try to get you to come home?”

She smiled, thinking about her father’s subtle and not so subtle attempts at wooing his youngest child back to the nest.  “Not as hard as he did last time, but yeah, he tried.”

“You know, no one would hold it against you if you did decide to leave Special Victims.  Two attacks in one year is a little excessive for an ADA.  I’m sure there’s a firm out there who would be delighted to have the services of an eager, attractive young attorney.”

Casey chuckled ruefully.  “I’m a glutton for punishment.”

“Hah!  Right.  I think you’re a glutton for a certain pair of sultry brown eyes.  And speaking of the lovely Detective Benson – she was in to see me earlier.”

“Oh?”  Casey tried not to sound too interested.

Now it was Mary’s turn to chuckle.  “Oh yes – she was bringing me some documents pertaining to the Reynolds case.  I’m glad you’re coming home.”

The abrupt shift in conversation startled Casey.  “Huh? Uh, Why?”

“Because your detective looked like hell.  She misses you Casey.” 

Does everyone know how I feel about Liv?  Was I that obvious?  She recalled Elliot’s flirting and decided, No, there’s at least one person who is clueless.  The rest of the squad probably doesn’t know either.  Mary just figured it out because she’s known me for so long.  She knows my tastes.

Mary knew that Casey liked older women.  Especially brunettes who had a cause that they were willing to fight for, come Hell or high water. 

“I’d be jealous if I didn’t know that it was a lost cause,” Mary added softly.

“Mary, I –“  The ADA bit her lip.  Damn it, was she always going to stumble into conversational quicksand?

“Casey, don’t, please?  The past is where it belongs.  You’re a good friend and I want it to stay that way.  Just… come home and find your happiness, okay?”

Casey swallowed.  Somehow, the conversation had turned on its tail and ended up going from being fairly light to bearing the weight of too many memories.  There had been a time, not so long ago, when ethics had gone out the window and surrendered to the desire and need voiced in whiskey-smoke tones.  Faced with the ghosts of old emotion, Casey could only say, “Okay.”

The phone went dead. 

How can she be so calm?  I know she loves me, and yet, she just… she’s letting me go.  How many different kinds of fool am I to turn away from what I know for something that might be a mirage?

Liquid brown eyes looking up at her through a set of mussed bangs flashed in her memory.  Just the suggestion, the merest hint of Olivia in her thoughts and Casey’s heart began to thud in time with the beating of a hummingbird’s wings. 

“Message center, play remaining new messages.”

The phone dialed, then began to tick off the rest of the new voicemails.  There were only three.  Two from her doctor confirming a midweek appointment and the third –

“Hey, Casey.  Um, when you get back, I’d um, like to repay you, for um, dinner.  So, give me a call, okay?   I can cook too, when I put my mind to it.”  Casey could hear the smile in Olivia’s voice.  “I make a pretty mean three cheese ravioli.”  God, she was sexy when she was being persuasive. 

“Return call.”

The phone dialed.  There were several rings and then, a sleepy, “Benson.”

“Hey, I love ravioli.”

“Casey.”  The tone of Olivia’s voice nearly made the ADA go off the road.  Layered into the one word was so many emotions that Casey dared not speculate on their meaning. 

“I’m coming home, Liv.”

“When?”  There was more than a little interest in Olivia’s response.

“I’m about an hour out, right now.”  Casey felt a little jittery, almost nervous.

“God.”  Was that out loud?  Did Casey really hear that relief, that utter thankfulness in Olivia’s voice?  “Have dinner with me.  I’ll order something that will be ready when you get here.”

“You’re not on a case?”  The ADA had to fight the urge to hold her breath.

“No.  Elliot’s catching tonight.  Kathy and the kids went to Boston for the weekend.”

The terrain was becoming familiar.  Countryside vanished, replaced by the outskirts of New York City.  The skyline on the horizon beckoned her – it was home.

Olivia’s offer was tempting.  A meal she wouldn’t have to cook would be nice.  Avoiding my apartment for a few more hours would be even nicer.

No matter how many times she said that she didn’t blame James for what happened, going home and walking into the place where she had been brutalized left her cold and shaking.  At work, she could solve it by asking for a new office.  Arthur had been sweet about it, going so far as to offer to have it painted lime green, her response to which had been to spend several minutes laughing until she was nearly sick with the giddy sense of relief. 

That solution was not something she could apply to a rent controlled, postage stamp sized apartment on the upper west side of Manhattan.

“Casey?  You still with me, hon?”

“Yeah, I’m here, Liv.  Dinner sounds… great.”

“Italian or Chinese?”

“Surprise me.”

“Okay.  Call me when you get to my building.  I’ll pass you into the garage.”

Apartment of Detective Olivia Benson

Saturday, April 8^th

Early Evening

Casey stood before Liv’s door and tried to calm the nervous fluttering in her stomach.  It was just a dinner between friends.  They hadn’t seen each other in two weeks and it was this was a good time to catch up on department gossip.  She could inquire after Kibre and Gaffney’s handling of SVU while Liv inquired after the ADA’s family.  She could handle this.

Steeling herself, Casey knocked.  The door opened almost immediately, as if Liv had been standing on the other side, waiting for her to request admittance.

The detective was dressed casually.  Hip hugging jeans curved over her legs while a hoody in an indeterminate shade of brown covered her top.  Under it, Casey could see the hint of a maroon tank top.

The attorney was also in jeans and she was wearing a teal blue shirt with a lavender scarf.  Accessorizing had been a necessity.  There were still bruises on her throat and looking at them in the mirror was disturbing.  She smiled and said, “Hey.  I’m home.”

Liv nodded.  “So I see.  Food’s here.  Hope you’re hungry, there’s enough for a small army.”  She moved away from the doorway so that Casey could go inside.

“I’m starving.”  Walking past Olivia was like moving past an electromagnet.  She felt naturally drawn to the detective’s side.  It was painful not to reach out and touch her.  Once the door was shut, Casey said, “How’s your arm?”

Cracking a small smile, Liv said, “Fine.  See?”  She pushed up her sleeve.  The bruise was barely visible.  “Your time tested method worked like a charm.”

“Good, good,” Casey said, nodding absently. 

“How about you?  Is your throat okay?”  Liv’s gaze searched Casey’s face for any sign that she might not be well.

Smiling, Casey said, “Yeah, I’m fine.  Really.”

Liv’s fingers twitched. 

Casey took a breath, reached up and untied the scarf.  The material fell away to reveal a fading necklace of bruises.  “See?”

Liv made an inarticulate sound.  To Casey, it sounded like something between a growl and a whimper of pain.  Stepping into the attorney’s personal space, Liv whispered, “It’s my turn.”

Before Casey could move, Liv had pulled her into a gentle embrace and was placing a series of soft, feather-light kisses around her neck.  On fire, Casey could only stand and burn as Olivia kissed her throat.

At some point, the older woman must have pulled away because the distant sound of Liv’s voice finally penetrated the fog in Casey’s head.  “All better?” 

Opening her eyes, Casey looked down at Liv.  The detective had moved perhaps two inches away and was gazing up at her with a level of fear she had never seen in Olivia Benson’s eyes. 

“Almost,” Casey replied.  Slowly, she leaned into Olivia and pressed her lips to the detective’s.  Their kisses were hesitant.  Their lips moved against each other in a gradual progression of touch that was at once an expression of their fear and a testament to their desire. 

Liv’s hands slid up into Casey’s hair and entwined in the amber colored tresses.  Casey slipped her hands into Liv’s back pockets and pulled the detective close.  Their kisses grew heated.  Open mouths allowed for their tongues to flirt out and tangle, their breaths to mingle and their teeth to nip at each other’s lips. 

God, please tell me I’m not dreaming.

It was a thought they both shared.

Content to kiss each other senseless for almost half an hour, they stood in the center of Olivia’s living room, lost in the splendor of long-suppressed desire given wing.  It was only when Casey’s stomach rumbled loudly that they reluctantly parted.  Almost as soon as her lips had cooled, Casey reached for Liv and kissed her again, a quick tasting of mouths that lasted only long enough for her to reassure herself that she wasn’t imagining the moment.

“Do you have any idea of how long I’ve wanted to do that?” she asked when they parted again.

Liv smiled.  “I can guess.  Come on, let’s eat.  We have a lot to talk about.”

“Okay, but first… kiss me again.”

Olivia laughed and brushed her lips over Casey’s jaw.  “I’ll kiss you all night after we eat, Casey.”

The breath whooshed out of the ADA with a soft puff.  “Well, a girl can hardly turn down such a wonderful offer, can she?”

They settled at Liv’s table.  The detective had already laid out all they would need for their meal.  Under a decorative cover, she revealed a feast – a huge bowl of pasta.  It was fettuccini alfredo with a heaping serving of garlic bread.  There was also a salad and a bowl full of crumbled feta to sprinkle over the food.

As before, the first few minutes of dinner were silent, punctuated only by the sound of eating.  Under the table, their feet spoke volumes as Casey shucked her thongs and slid one foot up the inside of Liv’s calf. 

Swallowing heavily, Olivia moved her chair closer to the table, which allowed the ADA to slide her foot all the way up the detective’s leg until it was resting in her lap.  The only acknowledgement Casey made of this arrangement was the sexy smirk that crossed her face when Liv captured the attorney’s foot between her thighs.

Olivia flexed the muscles in her legs, causing Casey’s smirk to waver.  Licking her lips, the detective said, “I’m glad you’re home.”

“Me too,” Casey replied.  She took a bite, chewed and swallowed.  “This is good.  Local take-out?”

Liv smiled.  “You could say that.”  She twirled her fork in the noodles and ate a few bites, then reached under the table to run her fingernails over the top of Casey’s foot.

The ADA bit her lip.  “You made it.”  The caress continued up her leg.  “It’s delicious.” 

The detective’s smile sparkled.  “Thanks.”  Her teasing touch continued all through the meal. 

By the time they were done, Casey was wishing that she had worn a skirt.  Skittery tingles rushed from her toes to her groin with every touch of Olivia’s fingers upon her leg.

Pushing her plate away, Casey rested her elbows on the table, leaned on her hands and whispered, “You’ve made me so wet, Olivia.”  Through half-lidded eyes, she watched the detective’s reaction.

Liv’s fingers clutched Casey’s foot in an iron shackle-like embrace.  Slowly, she released the attorney’s appendage.  Opening her legs, she dragged Casey’s toes inward and pressed them into the heat at her center.  “Like this?”

Casey’s eyes closed and she moaned.  Flexing her toes, she said, “You’re such a tease.”

Olivia ground her hips into Casey’s foot.  “I can be.  If that’s what you like?”

Biting her lip, Casey said, “Sometimes.  But…”  She suddenly stood and walked to Liv’s side of the table.  Holding out her hand, she said, “Not tonight.”

Liv floated into Casey’s arms.  She could hardly believe she was here, in this moment where the woman she had wanted for so long was reacting to her with such passionate intensity.  A shroud of gossamer thin fear trickled over her in the seconds between sitting and standing. 

It vanished only heartbeats later when Casey’s fingers skimmed over her face, drawing her up for a kiss that washed over her like the gentle rain of a summer shower.  Star-like explosions dappled behind her eyes.  If, at that moment, the phone had rung, Olivia was certain that she would have willingly, and with malice aforethought, committed a felonious act.

Casey wanted to look down and verify whether or not she was really levitating above the ground, but she was far too involved with kissing Olivia.  In her arms, the stern detective vanished, and was replaced by an intensely passionate woman. 

“Want you so much,” she whispered as she marked a trail of kisses from Liv’s lips to her throat. 

Throwing her head back, Olivia groaned.  It was me, God, thank you, it was me.  She wound her fingers in Casey’s hair and surrendered to the rising swell of desire that crested through her. 

“Bed,” she said in a nearly inarticulate voice.  “I need you in my bed, Casey.”  Her hands fumbled with the edges Casey’s shirt, untucking it from the attorney’s jeans and seeking to touch the warm flesh beneath. 

The ADA’s breath came in short, broken gasps with every light caress.  Heat suffused her entire body, radiating from a core of need that burned hotter than a solar flare.  Leaning in, she nuzzled the side of Olivia’s face and whispered, “You make me so fucking hot, Detective.”

“Casey… God, Casey… “

The attorney stepped away from Olivia and held out her hand.  “Take me to bed, Olivia.”

How they managed to get from the dining room to her bedroom, Liv would never remember.  A trail of clothes and disturbed furniture marked their passage.  At the doorway, Casey paused and wrapped herself around Olivia’s smaller frame. 

Whispering, she said, “I want to wake up in your arms, Olivia Benson.  Don’t expect me to leave after you touch me.”

Olivia made a mirthful sound.  “Do you think I’m going to let you go?”  She turned to face her lover.  “Casey, this isn’t about one night.  I’m sick to death of just one night.  If I take you to my bed, I expect us to wake up together.”  Cupping a hand over the attorney’s cheek she said, “I want you, Casey.  I more than want you – I need you to want me.”  Brushing a gentle kiss over her chin, Olivia whispered, “I want to fall in love with you, Counselor.”

Casey let go of her last fears and fell into the sea of emotions that had pooled in her heart.  Smiling joyfully, she said, “It won’t be easy, Detective.  I can be a special –“

“Woman who makes me want to forget everything I know about relationships,” Olivia said and then ended all conversation with a kiss.

Smiling into the kiss as she guided the detective backwards, Casey said, “Not everything, I hope.”  Given free rein to explore, the ADA’s hands were busy gliding over the surface of Olivia’s bared flesh. 

Tossing her head back to laugh, Liv replied, “No, not everything.”  Tangling her fingers in Casey’s hair, she said, “Though it would not necessarily be a bad thing if I took my time in learning how to love you.”

“I hope you’re an excellent study,” Casey said as they kissed. 

Falling into the bed, Olivia pulled Casey against her and said, “Oh, I think I can be motivated to pursue extra credit.” 

“Olivia?” Casey whispered into a nearby ear.

“Yeah?” Liv gasped as the ADA began to suckle her earlobe softly.

“Shut up.”

Olivia purred.  “Mm, shutting up now.”  Wrapping her arms around Casey, she proceeded to find other ways with which to occupy her mouth.

fin