DISCLAIMER: Law & Order: Special Victims Unit and all its characters are property of Dick Wolf and NBC. This story was written strictly for entertainment, and no profit is intended. The characters of Dawn Kinsley, her family and friends are mine. Please don't use them without my permission.
AUTHOR NOTES: English is not my native language, so please be patient with me.
I assume from episode 1x02 ("A Single Life"), in which Olivia shops in a corner grocery store near Lexington Avenue & East 82nd Street, that she lives on the Upper East Side. In 1x11 ("Bad Blood") it's mentioned that Serena Benson was raped in 1968, so I'm going to assume that Olivia was born in 1968 or 1969. This story takes place during season 3, which means Olivia would be about 33 years old.
THANKS: A very big thank you goes to my beta readers Lena, Michelle, Winnie, Jonel, and especially Rayne, KC, and Lori for their corrections and valuable input. I couldn't have done this without you!
WARNING: This story deals with the subject of rape and its aftermath. There will be no graphic descriptions, but later recountings of the rape.
SPOILERS: References to episodes from seasons 1-3.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

Conflict of Interest
By Jae

Part 11

TRIAL PART 74

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 7

"I call Detective Olivia Benson to the stand."

Olivia strode into the courtroom, careful to hide any trace of her nervousness as she placed her left hand on the bible the bailiff held out for her. She hadn't been this nervous before her testimony since her very first time in court as a wet behind the ears rookie fresh from the academy. She swore to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth and took her place on the witness stand.

"Would you please state and spell your name for the record?" the bailiff asked.

"Olivia Benson. O-l-i-v-i-a, B-e-n-s-o-n," she spelled out for the court reporter.

She watched as Alex moved close to the witness box and gave her a small nod. "Tell the jury your profession, please."

"I'm a detective with the Special Victims Unit of the New York City Police Department," Olivia answered, keeping her head up and her shoulders squared.

"How long have you been a police officer, Detective?" Alex obviously wanted to establish Olivia's experience after the defense had poked holes into Officer Riley's credibility.

"Nine years," Olivia answered.

Alex nodded with an impressed expression on her face, as if she hadn't known the fact before. "How many of those years have you spent investigating sex crimes?"

"Seven years."

Another impressed nod from the A.D.A. "For comparison…what is the average time a detective works with Special Victims before transferring out?"

"The average's two years," Olivia answered patiently. Okay, now everyone should have noticed that I know my stuff.

"Detective Benson, would you please describe for the jury what you found when you arrived at Miss Kinsley's apartment on the night in question?" Alex asked, purposely leaving out why Olivia had been present at the apartment in the first place. They both knew that the jury would assume she had been called in by Officers Trent and Riley.

"In the bedroom, furniture had been knocked over and a series of broken objects and trampled books were scattered across the floor. In the living room, nothing was out of order, except for a wide open window and a ripped out phone cord."

Alex nodded. "Did you actually enter the bedroom?"

"Yes, I did."

Alex directed her gaze at D'Aquino for a moment, silently emphasizing for the jury that this witness had seen the damage up close. "Where was Miss Kinsley when you arrived?"

Olivia knew this was her cue to report the physical and emotional state Dawn had been in, since Alex couldn't ask directly without drawing an objection from D'Aquino. "She was sitting in the living room, too scared to return to the bedroom."

"How do you know she was scared?" Alex threw the ball back to her.

"She was very pale – except for the bruise on her right cheek – and trembling, obviously in a state of shock," Olivia explained. There were days where she couldn't get that picture out of her head.

"What did Miss Kinsley tell you…?"

"Objection, hearsay!" D'Aquino interrupted.

Petrovsky's dark head nodded. "Sustained."

Olivia pressed her lips together for a moment. The defense had just successfully prevented her from explaining to the jury how Dawn had immediately told her she had been raped.

"Detective Benson, you were the lead investigator in Miss Kinsley's case, correct?" Alex moved on to the next question.

"My partner, Detective Stabler, and I, yes."

"Tell us a little about the investigation, please," Alex said.

Olivia looked at the jury members, speaking directly to them. "The first solid lead came when we noticed similarities between the cases of Miss Kinsley, Miss Matthews, and Miss Riggs." She decided to leave out their useless attempts to get a DNA hit in one of their databases, because it would only draw attention to the fact that Garett Ballard had no previous criminal record. "All of them frequented a lesbian club known as 'Rainbows'."

"And after that discovery, what was the next step in your investigation?"

"We went to the club to show around the sketch our police artist had drawn from Miss Kinsley's description of her rapist." Olivia fixed a steely gaze at Ballard. "But that didn't prove necessary because before I even reached the front door, I identified the defendant, Mister Ballard, as the man we were searching for. Miss Kinsley had described him in detail, right down to the scars on his chin and above one eyebrow."

Alex turned and regarded Ballard for a second, giving the jury the opportunity to do the same, before she held up a sheet of paper. "Is this sketch, which I've filed as People's exhibit four, the sketch you're referring to, Detective?"

"Yes, it is." The resemblance of the portrayed man to Ballard was obvious.

Alex walked the sketch over to the jury for closer inspection. "What happened next?"

"We waited for a warrant, as the law requires, and then went to arrest Mister Ballard. As I started to read him his rights, he called me a 'bitch' and hit me in the face with his fist," Olivia reported.

Alex handed her a photograph, taken the day after the arrest when the bruise on her jaw had been the most colorful. "I'm showing you what's been marked as People's exhibit five. Detective Benson, is this the injury you sustained during the arrest?"

"Yes, it is." Olivia gave back the photograph so Alex could show it to the jury.

"Detective Benson, how many suspects have you arrested during your career?"

Olivia shrugged. "I don't know the exact number; must have been hundreds, though."

"And how often did a suspect hit you during an arrest?" Alex asked.

"Most don't try to resist, but I've been hit, kicked, spat, and sworn at more times than I can count." Olivia looked across the courtroom at Ballard. You're nothing special, you bastard.

Alex stepped closer. "And how often have you been hit, kicked, spat or sworn at by a suspect whose innocence was later established?"

D'Aquino shot up from his seat. "Objection!"

"I withdraw, Your Honor," Alex announced casually. The jury had heard what she had meant to imply anyway. "Detective Benson, when you and your partner arrested the defendant, did you wear your badge, identifying you as a police officer?"

"Yes, I did. I showed it to Mister Ballard right before I began to read him his rights," Olivia answered.

Alex looked at the gold shield proudly displayed on Olivia's breast pocket. "So, how likely is it that Mister Ballard thought you were, as Mister D'Aquino said in his opening statement, 'troublemakers' who wanted to cheat their way into the club?"

Olivia allowed a sarcastic smile to show on her lips. "Highly unlikely. He would have had to have been deaf and blind. He knew who we were and why we were there when he hit me."

"You and your partner, Detective Stabler, were the officers who questioned Mister Ballard after he was arrested, is that correct?" Alex moved on to her next question.

"Yes."

Leaning one hand onto the edge of the witness box, Alex half-turned to look at Ballard. "What was the result of that interrogation?"

"Mister Ballard was not very cooperative. He claimed not to know any of the victims, at least not their names. In the course of the interview, he became increasingly agitated, even aggressive; he jumped up and called me a 'fucking dyke'," Olivia reported, satisfied that she finally had an opportunity to portrait Ballard as the homophobe he was.

"Detective Benson, another question while I have you here as an expert…part of your training as a police officer were lessons in officer safety and weaponless self-defense, right?"

"Yes."

"You've also been the Academy's kickboxing champion, right?"

Olivia nodded in confirmation. "That's right. Twice," she emphasized. This was not the time for humbleness.

"And despite all that training, the defendant was able to hit you?"

Olivia gritted her teeth and swallowed her pride, trusting that Alex was aiming at something other than humiliating her in front of her fellow detectives in the gallery. "Yes, he was."

"Then, with first-hand knowledge of the speed and force of his attack, would you expect an untrained woman to be able to defend herself against the defendant?"

Ah, this is where she's going with this. Olivia almost had to smile.

"Objection, Your Honor!" The defense attorney stood once again to give voice to his protests. "Counsel's asking for an opinion!"

"Sit down, Mr. D'Aquino. Like Miss Cabot established, Detective Benson is a trained police officer. The jury is entitled to hear her opinion. Objection overruled," Petrovsky decided.

Alex turned back towards Olivia, giving her a nod.

"No, there's not a doubt in my mind that an untrained woman would have no chance defending herself against him," Olivia answered clearly.

"Thank you, Detective. No further questions at the moment." Alex walked back to her table.

Olivia straightened and squared her shoulders as Victor D'Aquino approached the witness stand. "Detective Benson, you just told us that you've been hit by a suspect during arrest more times than you can count, correct?"

"Not literally, but it's been a few times, yes," Olivia agreed, warily wondering where he was going with this.

"Has anyone ever tried to draw a weapon and shoot you to resist arrest?" D'Aquino wanted to know.

Olivia nodded. "Once or twice."

"On the evening you arrested him, did Mister Ballard carry a weapon?"

"Yes, although he—"

"A simple yes or no will suffice, Detective," D'Aquino interrupted before she could tell the jury that Ballard had had no permission to carry a concealed firearm.

Olivia mentally clenched her teeth. "Yes, he did carry a weapon."

"But he didn't try to use that weapon against you, did he?"

"No," Olivia had to admit.

"Detective Benson, you mentioned in your report that you didn't arrest my client immediately when you saw him at the club, is that correct?" the defense lawyer asked.

Olivia gave a nod. "Yes. After I recognized him I had to wait for backup and an arrest warrant."

"Is it not true that you came up to Mister Ballard, not revealing yourself as a police officer but undercover as a customer who wanted to enter the club?" D'Aquino questioned her.

"I wasn't undercover," Olivia protested.

D'Aquino lightly tapped the witness box in front of Olivia. "But your clothing and your behavior was such that Mister Ballard could have assumed you were a customer?"

"That's possible the first time that I approached him," Olivia admitted, "but—"

"Thank you, that answer is enough for me," the defense attorney interrupted, leaning against the witness box. "Isn't it true that you first arrested another innocent man for the alleged rape, before you set your sights on my client?"

Oh, now he's trying to make it sound like we arbitrarily arrested Ballard because we didn't like the color of his socks! Another innocent man? Come on! "We followed a lead and arrested a known sex offender whose description somewhat resembled that of Mister Ballard, that's true, yes." D'Aquino was not happy with the answer, she noticed with satisfaction.

"Okay, let's back up a little, Detective…were you assigned to the case initially?"

Shit! Although Olivia knew that she hadn't done anything wrong, she had hoped it wouldn't come to this. "I was the detective working the case from this first night on, yes," she answered, hoping D'Aquino would be satisfied with that.

"And on that evening, were you on duty?"

"No."

"You were called in for back-up, then?"

"No." Olivia fought the urge to grind her teeth together.

Victor D'Aquino dramatically raised his eyebrows. "How come you appeared on Miss Kinsley's doorstep on that night, then?"

"I heard about the assault on my police scanner, and since it was in my immediate neighborhood, I went to see if I could help," Olivia said, hoping he would leave it at that.

D'Aquino, of course, had other plans. "So, your eagerness to respond to that call had nothing to do with the fact that you knew the alleged victim, Miss Kinsley, before that night?"

Olivia forced a wave of anger and panic back down. "No, it hadn't. If you had investigated that a little more thoroughly, you would know that dispatch never announces the name of the victim on the radio," she attacked the defense attorney. "I had no way of knowing who the victim was, even if I had known her." It was the truth, even when she'd had a bad feeling when she heard the address of Dawn's apartment building.

"But you did, didn't you?" D'Aquino insisted. "You knew Miss Kinsley before the alleged attack?"

"I heard Dr. Kinsley's lecture at a law enforcement seminar the week before her rape," Olivia answered, "together with almost every other Special Victims detective." She hoped the defense didn't know about her short visit in Dawn's apartment after their chance meeting at the grocery store, even if their conversation had mostly been limited to their jobs.

D'Aquino nodded. "So, Miss Kinsley gave a lecture about rape?"

Olivia's brow furrowed. Where is he going with this? It looked like D'Aquino had given up on making her look un-objective and biased and was now trying to impeach Dawn's credibility. "Yes, she did," she answered cautiously.

"She makes her living dealing with rape?"

Olivia clenched her hands into fists behind the witness box. Are you accusing her of anything, here, you bastard?! "So do I, Counselor," she pointed out, practically daring him to tell her there was anything wrong with how she earned her money and trying to draw his expected attack away from Dawn.

"You do…" Thoughtfully, the defense attorney tapped his finger against his chin as if he had just now remembered that he was questioning a sex crimes expert. "Then, with a professional background like yours – or that of Miss Kinsley – you'd know what kind of behavior to look for in a rape victim?"

"Yes, I do know that – it was exactly the kind of behavior Miss Kinsley showed when I found her in her apartment that Saturday night." Olivia knew now what he was trying to do – implying that Dawn had faked the 'symptoms' of a rape victim.

"And Miss Kinsley also knows what kind of behavior a Special Victims detective would expect her to display if she had been raped, correct?"

"Objection!" Alex threw her pen onto the table and jumped up. "Defense counsel is trying to put the victim on trial, here! Your Honor, I respectfully request that you admonish Mister D'Aquino for this behavior!"

Olivia hid a smile. Alex looked like an avenging angel, her blue eyes glaring at D'Aquino in indignation.

"Approach the bench!" Petrovsky ordered, clicking off her microphone so the jury couldn't hear what she said to the attorneys.

With various degrees of enthusiasm, Alex and D'Aquino made their ways towards the front of the courtroom.

Olivia let her gaze wander around the courtroom while she waited. Dawn's mother still sat in the first row, her face pale and her hand clamped around that of Lieutenant Vasquez. Olivia was glad that Dawn hadn't had to witness D'Aquino's implied accusations.

Finally, Victor D'Aquino returned to the witness stand. "Detective Benson, you testified that you heard Miss Kinsley give a lecture, right?"

"Right." Olivia nodded, wondering what he was trying now.

"A lecture you were impressed with?" D'Aquino asked.

"Yes. Dr. Kinsley seemed very competent in her field of work." Olivia knew the defense lawyer wouldn't dare to pick up his line of questioning about Dawn's professional knowledge again after Petrovsky's admonition.

D'Aquino nodded. "So, already knowing Miss Kinsley and being impressed with her, wouldn't you say you were predisposed to believe her accusations against Mister Ballard?"

Alex shifted onto the edge of her chair, ready to jump up and object again should the opportunity arise, but Olivia remained calm. "I would say that I'm predisposed to believe every woman who sits there trembling and beaten and tells me she has been raped."

"What happened to innocent until proven otherwise?" D'Aquino muttered loud enough for the jury to hear.

"Objection!" Alex stood, one hand on her hip. "Is there a question for this witness or is defense counsel already delivering his closing argument?"

"Withdrawn. No further questions, Your Honor."

Alex rose. "Redirect, Your Honor?"

The judge nodded.

"Detective Benson, like defense counsel just pointed out, you saw Miss Kinsley before the night of October 6^th, correct?" Alex laid her hand onto the smooth wood of the witness box.

Olivia stared at her for a second. Now she's drawing attention to the same fact we wanted to distract D'Aquino from? But she trusted Alex and her abilities as an attorney, so she nodded willingly. "Yes."

"Then unlike Officer Riley, who had never met Miss Kinsley before and therefore had no frame of reference, as defense counsel pointed out, how would you describe your ability to assess Miss Kinsley's appearance or behavior?" Alex asked.

Ah. Brilliant, Alex. Beating D'Aquino with his own weapons. "I would say that I should be able to assess her behavior fairly well," Olivia declared with confidence.

"And compared to that first meeting, how did she behave on the night of October 6^th?"

"Completely different," Olivia said. "Her confidence and her sense of humor were gone. Something had scared and upset her deeply."

The defense attorney rose from his table. "Objection, speculation, Your Honor! I move to strike! The witness has no personal knowledge of whatever did or did not happen that night!"

Alex turned towards the judge. "The people are not attempting to show precisely what transpired that night, Your Honor, but merely to determine that, in Detective Benson's expert opinion, something occurred which had a negative effect on Dr. Kinsley."

"Overruled, you may proceed, Counselor," Petrovsky ruled.

"Thank you, Your Honor. Detective, it has been stated that you did not reveal yourself as a police officer on your first meeting with Mr. Ballard. Is that correct?

"Yes."

"Was it your intention to arrest him on this occasion?" Alex asked.

Olivia shook her head. "No. I was merely attempting to gain access to the nightclub as part of an ongoing investigation."

"I see…and, on the second occasion, when you were actually attempting to arrest him, did you reveal yourself as a police officer?"

"Yes, I showed him my badge and the arrest warrant, and proceeded to inform him that he was under arrest," Olivia said firmly.

Alex nodded. "And it was at this point that he hit you?"

"That's right."

"Detective Benson," Alex paused for a second, letting the jury know with a meaningful glance that one last, important question was to follow, "having done, in your own words, 'hundreds of arrests', do you believe that there is any way Mr. Ballard would not have known you were a police officer at the time of his arrest?"

"No, I don't see how."

With a brief nod, Alex stepped back from the witness stand. "No further questions, Your Honor."

"Thank you, Detective, you are excused," Petrovsky told Olivia.

On legs that felt like they were stuffed with cotton, Olivia stood and walked out of the courtroom.

SPECIAL VICTIMS UNIT

SQUAD ROOM

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 12

"Detective Benson?"

Olivia looked up from the witness statement she had read and closed her highlighter when she saw that Dawn's mother and her quasi-aunt were standing before her. "Mrs. Kinsley; Lieutenant." She gave the first woman a smile and the second a respectful nod. "What can I do for you?"

"We'd like to have a short update on the trial," Grace said while her police officer friend kept herself in the background. "How is it going in your opinion?"

Olivia rubbed the back of her neck, scanning the room behind the two women to see if Dawn had come with them. She hadn't seen Dawn since the beginning of the trial. While that may have been good for her job and her sanity, she had begun to miss her whenever her work left her time enough to think. "Well…Officer Riley's testimony didn't help our case - Aquino made him look like an absolute greenhorn, so the jury won't give much weight to whatever he testified to. Detective Munch's testimony about the execution of the search warrant guarantees us a conviction on the gun possession charge, but doesn't help much with the rape charge if we can't prove it was the same weapon he used to threaten Dawn with."

Olivia knew that her own testimony had been a mixed bag, too. She was sure that the jury would believe her that she had no doubt that a rape had occurred, but with D'Aquino's continuing implications that Dawn would know exactly how to make her believe that…

"What about the DNA analyst and the fingerprint expert? Their testimony was good for us, right?" Grace fixed hopeful eyes on Olivia.

Olivia cleared her throat. "Well, not really, no. Ballard's fingerprints and his semen don't rule out the possibility of consensual sex and that's what Ballard claims."

"What about the other two girls?" Grace asked.

"We have no DNA evidence on them, and their line-up identification of Ballard was a little shaky, but the fact that there are two other women who accuse Ballard makes the defense's theory that the victims are just too ashamed to admit to an affair with him a little less likely." Olivia knew that a lot rested on Dawn; her testimony could be the deciding factor.

Del Vasquez nodded grimly. "So, a lot will depend on Dawn," she came to the same conclusion Olivia had.

Grace sighed and sank into the chair Olivia had moved out for her. "When Dawn decided not to become a cop, I always thought that at least my daughter would be safe from this kind of crime."

Del, who had silently taken position behind her, squeezed her shoulder.

Another deep sigh, and then Grace straightened and looked up at Olivia with a small smile. "At least she was lucky having you as the detective working her case…and as a friend. I know how comforting having one of those strong cop-shoulders to cry on can be." She affectionately patted the hand resting on her shoulder.

"Oh, yes, that's us boys and girls in blue, always ready to lend a hand…or a shoulder." Del smiled down at her.

Grace turned so she was facing her old friend. "Well, I'm glad that this time it was a girl in blue offering her shoulder. The last thing Dawn needs now is to fall in love with another cop. It would break her heart to lose another loved one to this job, to worry every time he goes to work, to jump every time the phone rings when he's out in the field…I wouldn't wish that for her." Grace's gray eyes were clouded over as she remembered her own pain.

Olivia bowed her head, understanding Grace's pain and sorrows. What she didn't understand was that Grace automatically excluded her, but not a male cop, as a possible love interest for Dawn. Either she's not as aware of her daughter's sexual orientation as Dawn thinks or she's deep in denial. Or she just knows that you're so not the woman for Dawn and is trying to warn you off, Olivia Benson.

"Hey, Liv!" Elliot called from the glass doors leading to the squad room. "I've got the warrant on McPherson, you coming?"

Olivia stood and reached for her jacket, directing an apologetic gaze at her two visitors. "I have to go." She hesitated for a second, and then added: "Give my best to Dawn."

TRIAL PART 74

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 13

Alex rounded her table and looked down at the bespectacled man on the witness stand. "Doctor Van Hayden, would you tell us your profession, please?"

"I'm an emergency room physician at the Lenox Hill Hospital," the witness answered.

"How long have you been practicing medicine?" Alex asked, determined not to let the defense undermine the credibility of one of her witnesses again.

"It will be twenty years in December," the doctor said.

Alex nodded respectfully. "And how many women who have been raped did you treat in that time?"

Doctor Van Hayden shrugged. "A lot, but I don't know the exact number."

But Alex did. She looked down at the paper in her hand. "Would it surprise you to hear that you were involved in the treatment of 208 rape victims?"

"Not at all; that sounds about right."

Now that the vast experience of the witness had been established, Alex moved on. "Did you also treat Miss Kinsley?"

"I did."

"What were the findings of your medical examination?" Alex asked neutrally, not giving D'Aquino any opportunity to object.

"I found bruises on her upper arms, thighs, on the right side of her face, and in the pelvic region. There were bite marks on her breasts and a hairline fracture on her right index finger," the E.R. doctor explained.

"Your Honor, I move People's exhibits nine, ten, eleven, and twelve into evidence. Doctor, are these the photographs that were taken during your examination?" Alex laid the pictures out in front of the physician.

Van Hayden nodded. "Yes, they are."

Alex walked the photographs over to the jury box and handed them to the juror closest to her. She watched the faces of the jury members while they saw the victim's injuries for the first time. When dealing with a jury, Alex knew that the old saying was true: A picture was worth a thousand words.

Finally, she turned back to her witness. "In your professional opinion, Doctor, what has usually been the cause of injuries similar to those you found on Miss Kinsley?"

"Objection!" D'Aquino tried to prevent the doctor from answering. "Counsel is asking for a personal opinion!"

Petrovsky looked at him like a mother reprimanding her toddler. "Opinion testimony is admissible in the area of specialized knowledge that an expert witness is qualified in; you know that, Mister D'Aquino! The objection is overruled. Please answer, Doctor Van Hayden."

"The bruises on arms and thighs are consistent with restraint, and the bruise on her cheek was most likely caused by a backhanded slap to the face," the doctor answered.

"What about the bruises around her neck?" Alex asked.

The doctor looked down at the photo Alex held out for him. "The pattern was not consistent with manual strangulation. I think someone pressed down on her throat with a forearm."

"You also did what is called a rape kit or sexual assault evidence collection kit on Miss Kinsley, is that correct?"

"Yes, I did. The examination revealed seminal fluid and vaginal lacerations at the six o'clock position," Doctor Van Hayden answered.

"When you say six o'clock position, what exactly do you mean?" Alex asked for the sake of the jury. She knew how important it was that every juror understood the vaginal clock, because it helped to prove that it had been rape and not rough consensual sex.

The E.R. doctor turned towards the diagram they had prepared to help illustrate his testimony. "When we do a rape examination, we mentally divide the vagina into areas. The upper part," Van Hayden pointed at a certain point of the diagram, "is the twelve o'clock position, while the lower part is the six o'clock position and so on."

"And what practical relevance do these positions have?"

"Injuries at the lower portions, the five, six or seven o'clock position imply rape, while small injuries near the twelve o'clock position are generally attributed to rough but consensual sexual activity," the physician explained.

Alex circled the lower part of the diagram. "So your medical findings corroborate that Miss Kinsley had been raped?"

"Objection, Your Honor! Leading!" D'Aquino shouted across the courtroom.

Petrovsky nodded. "Sustained. Rephrase, Miss Cabot!" she demanded.

Alex quickly formulated a non-leading question. "In your professional opinion, what conclusions can be drawn from your examination of Miss Kinsley?"

"It seems very likely that she's been raped," Van Hayden gave the answer Alex had been waiting for.

"Thank you, Doctor. No further questions."

D'Aquino stood. "Doctor Van Hayden, isn't it true that bruises can not only be caused by rape, but by rough, consensual sex, too?"

"Yes," the doctor had to agree.

"And isn't it also true that pressure against the throat to cut of the air, is sometimes used to enhance sexual pleasure?"

The physician nodded again. "Yes. The lack of oxygen can heighten sexual excitement."

"So, bruises around the throat don't necessarily show intent to kill or seriously hurt someone, do they?"

"Not necessarily, no."

Alex gritted her teeth. The defense attorney was keeping his questions general and wide enough that the doctor had to agree because the statements were generally true, even though they didn't apply to Dawn Kinsley's case.

"Is it correct that there are other common signs of rape, for example…," D'Aquino looked down at his notes, "…injuries to the vaginal fourchette and the perineum?"

The doctor inclined his head. "In some cases, yes."

"And did you find lacerations at the fourchette when you examined Miss Kinsley?"

"No, I didn't."

D'Aquino nodded with a grave expression. "What about injuries to the perineum? Did you find that?"

"No, I didn't," Van Hayden had to admit once again.

"We heard that you've been a doctor for twenty years," D'Aquino changed the topic, "in this time, have you ever encountered injuries you believed to be caused by rough but consensual sex?"

The doctor smiled wryly. "After twenty years in the E.R., there's not much you haven't encountered."

"So, that's a yes?"

"It is."

"And did the patients usually tell the truth and give rough sex play as the cause of their injuries?" D'Aquino asked.

"Only when it was so obvious that they couldn't get away with any other explanation," Van Hayden answered.

The defense attorney rubbed his chin. "Other explanations…such as?"

"Falling out of bed, household accidents…"

"Did someone ever try to claim she had been raped even though the injuries were caused by rough sex?"

Alex was on her feet in a second. "Objection! Your Honor, this is another attempt to accuse the victims of lying and put them on trial here!"

"Sustained," Petrovsky decided. "Mister D'Aquino, I have spoken to you on this matter already. Cease that line of questioning or you shall be held in contempt of court. You will have the opportunity to question Miss Kinsley's credibility when she takes the stand. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Your Honor." Victor D'Aquino straightened his tie and turned back to the witness. "Doctor Van Hayden, did you run a toxicological analysis on the blood sample taken from Miss Kinsley?"

"No, that's not part of standard procedure. The blood is taken to test for sexually transmitted diseases."

"So there's no way to prove whether or not Miss Kinsley had been drinking?" the defense lawyer wanted to know.

The doctor furrowed his brow. "I didn't notice—"

"Yes or no, please: Can you prove if Miss Kinsley had been drinking or not?" D'Aquino interrupted.

"We can't determine the blood alcohol level, no," the physician had to concede.

"Thank you, nothing further."

Alex rose for her redirect examination. "Doctor Van Hayden, how close did you stand to Miss Kinsley while you examined her?"

"Objection, relevance?" D'Aquino said immediately.

"The relevance will become clear with my next question, Your Honor," Alex promised.

Petrovsky fixed her with a strict gaze. "It had better, Counselor. Overruled. Continue, Doctor Van Hayden."

"I had to stand very close to Miss Kinsley," the doctor answered.

"Close enough to potentially smell alcohol on her breath if she had been drinking heavily?" Alex asked.

"Objection, leading and speculation!" D'Aquino threw in.

"Your Honor, we have already established the witness' credibility as a medical practitioner for twenty years. During this time, he has surely dealt with intoxicated patients, and he is experienced enough to recognize such a state."

Petrovsky nodded. "Overruled."

"Other than the injuries you already told as about, was there anything else you noticed about Miss Kinsley's condition?"

"She was in shock."

"Anything else?"

Van Hayden shook his head. "Not that I can remember."

Alex looked to the jury for a moment, hoping they understood that this meant he hadn't noticed the smell of alcohol on her breath or any behavior that could be attributed to intoxication. "Doctor, is the lack of injuries to the perineum or the fourchette proof in itself that the alleged victim is lying and no rape has occurred?"

"No, not at all. Only some rape victims show injuries to the fourchette, and injuries to the perineum are rather rare," the doctor answered.

"Nothing further, thank you." Alex was glad to sit down; her feet were starting to hurt after a full court-day in high heels.

"Thank you, Doctor Van Hayden. That will complete your testimony. You may step down. I suggest we break for the day and reconvene tomorrow." Petrovsky raised her gavel. "Court is adjourned."

NYPD SHOOTING RANGE

BRONX, NEW YORK

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 14

Olivia adjusted the Plexiglas safety glasses and the ear muffs that she wore, and moved the target back from the fifteen to the twenty-five yard line. She spread her feet for balance and gripped the butt of her Glock, one hand supporting the other.

In rapid succession, she fired center-mass at the black silhouette at the end of the lane. When she had pulled the trigger the five times that were required from this distance, Olivia stepped back and pressed the button to retrieve the target for closer inspection.

She smiled with satisfaction: Not only had all five rounds hit the black paper, they had all landed in the target's center and head.

"Would you look at that, boys?!" came John Munch's voice from behind her. "Is this part of your evil plan to humiliate your colleagues?"

Olivia laughed. "Oh, you don't need me for that; you manage it all on your own."

"Don't listen to John," Elliot said, clapping her on the back. "He's just jealous because he wants to have a partner who scores 98, too, instead of one who's barely passed the re-qualification with 79."

"I had somethin' in my eye!" Fin rubbed the eye in question.

"Yes – the female range instructor who stood there, trying not to laugh!" Munch gave back.

Fin squared his broad shoulders. "She wasn't laughin', she was oglin' me! She even agreed to go out with me!" Triumphantly, he waved a piece of paper with her phone number.

"Some women will do anything out of pity," Munch commented.

"If this is how you shoot when you take pity on these guys, I'd like to see your score when you shoot without mercy," another voice said behind Olivia.

Olivia hastily took off her safety glasses and ear protection when she recognized Lieutenant Del Vasquez.

The three men exchanged glances. "I think we'll try the outdoor range. There's still hope that we can beat you there, Liv." Elliot dragged his colleagues from the room.

"Do you have a minute, Detective?" The lieutenant pointed at the door.

Nervously, Olivia followed her outside. She had never directly worked with the homicide lieutenant and knew of no active cases that would require their cooperation. The only thing they had in common, other than their work, was Dawn. After what Grace had said about her wish that Dawn should never again become involved with a cop, Olivia dreaded the conversation Del Vasquez wanted to have with her.

"I'll get straight to the point," Del said when they reached the front of the building.

Olivia nodded in agreement, preferring not to suffer for long.

Del looked her right in the eyes. "I want you to hook me up with your A.D.A."

Olivia almost swallowed her tongue. She stared at the Lieutenant with wide eyes as she coughed. Good to know my gaydar's still in full working order, but…Alex? What the hell?!

Del rolled her eyes and laughed; a dark, husky sound. "Let's make it clear right now; I may be many things, but two things I'm not: Heterosexual or blind. Yes, I noticed that Alexandra Cabot is not only a brilliant lawyer but also a beautiful woman. But please get your mind out of the gutter, Detective! The hook-up I requested was meant in a strictly professional capacity."

"Oh." Olivia rubbed her neck, trying to look as if she had never assumed anything else even for a moment. "Yes, of course. What…what should I tell Miss Cabot?"

"I want her to call me to the stand," Del demanded.

Olivia looked down at her black boots. "Lieutenant…I know you want to help Dawn; we all do. But in a criminal case, character witnesses are usually called only for the defendant, not for the victim."

Del's dark eyes narrowed. "You're trying to explain a job to me that I've done longer than you, Detective!" she growled. "I don't want Miss Cabot to call me as a character witness. That Saturday night, I accompanied Dawn to the club."

What?! Olivia stared at her.

"The club is not really my scene, but Dawn had never been there before, and I knew that those girls she went with would disappear from her side as soon as an attractive butch waved a beer at them, so I went with them," Del explained.

"You drove her home?" Olivia guessed, knowing by now how protective the older officer was of Dawn. "Then you can testify that she never took Ballard home with her!"

Del's strong jaw clenched. "No. I didn't, and I can't. I left before Dawn did because all these flashing lights and the smoke gave me a frigging headache!" She closed her eyes. "God, I've wished a thousand times that I'd insisted she come with me or talked her out of—"

"It wouldn't have done you any good," Olivia stopped her from blaming herself. "Dawn's too stubborn to be ordered around. And even if you'd taken her home, Ballard knew her address by then. It wouldn't have made a difference."

Del sighed. "What I can testify to is that Dawn never spoke to Ballard."

"I don't want to appear disrespectful, but…why didn't you offer to testify before?" Olivia asked.

"I wanted to, but you're right: Dawn is stubborn, and she vehemently refused my offer. She didn't want to drag me into it and have to out myself in open court when I didn't really see anything." Del poked the toes of her boots into the gravel. "But now that it all comes down to whether or not the jury believes Ballard's story about consensual sex and so much rests on Dawn's shoulders…I want to testify."

Olivia nodded thoughtfully. "That would most likely mean doing what Dawn had feared: Outing yourself in open court. And you know how fast rumors—"

Del stopped her with a raised hand. "I've known that girl since she was knee-high to a grasshopper and came to the station with these pigtails, begging me to let her ride in a police cruiser! I couldn't love her more if she was my own daughter, okay?" She stared at Olivia with intense, dark eyes. "So, if it would help get the bastard who raped her behind bars, then I would out myself in front of the Police Commissioner by propositioning his wife, if need be!"

Olivia held back a chuckle and shook her head in silent admiration. God, I could have used a friend like that when I grew up! "Understood. I'll tell Alex to call you today."

Del nodded curtly and turned to go.

"So, did she ever get it?" Olivia called after her.

Del turned, raising one black eyebrow. "Did who get what?"

"Dawn," Olivia said. "Did she ever get that ride in a police cruiser that she begged you for?"

The lieutenant folded muscular arms across her chest. Her face was expressionless, not betraying her thoughts and feelings. "You're not suggesting that I misused police property for the entertainment of a little girl, are you, Detective?"

Olivia held her gaze. "I'm suggesting that you would do anything for that girl, Lieutenant," she gave back softly.

Del Vasquez didn't answer immediately. Gravel crunched under her boots as she stepped back towards Olivia. She stopped only one foot away to study her face intently.

Olivia's back straightened and her muscles stiffened. She wasn't sure if this was the calm before the storm and Del would soon explode into a sharp reprimand.

After long moments of scrutiny, the laugh lines around Del's eyes deepened, and she allowed a smile to play around her lips. "You're all right, Detective." She clapped the surprised Olivia on the shoulder. "Treat her right, and we won't have a problem with each other."

Olivia stared after her as Del turned again and disappeared around the building. Only then did she remember that the lieutenant still hadn't answered her question about Dawn and the ride in the police cruiser.

Elliot came strolling along the gravel path. He pointed in the direction Del had disappeared in. "So, did she give you the 'Stay away from my baby' or the good old 'If you hurt her, I'll hunt you down and kill you' speech?"

"I think you've watched 'The Godfather' once too often," Olivia mumbled, still a little dazed. "Why would Lieutenant Vasquez say something like that?"

Elliot only smiled at her attempt to play dumb and innocent. "Because that's what I would do if one of my girls ever came home with a cop."

Olivia shook her head. "For a cop, you don't seem to hold your brothers in blue in very high esteem."

"Oh, I like my brothers in blue just fine," Elliot assured her, "but not as a son-in-law. Being married to a cop can be hell, and that's not what I'd want for my girls."

Olivia crossed her arms across her chest. "What would you have done if Kathy's parents had said the same thing when you asked for her hand?"

"They did," Elliot answered. After a second, he smiled. "Not that it was of any use."

"But of course your daughters are so much more obedient than Kathy ever was," Olivia deadpanned.

Elliot snorted. "I can't even get Maureen to keep to her curfew! I can only try to keep them away from the likes of you!"

"The likes of me?" Olivia pointed at her chest in a gesture of innocence.

Elliot laughed at her. "Yes, you, Casanova."

"Hey, Livy Crockett," Munch shouted from the outdoor shooting range, "want to join us mere mortals and show us how it's done?"

"Only if you guys lay off these historical nicknames!" Olivia called back.

Part 12

TRIAL PART 74

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 15

Olivia watched as the Asian psychiatrist took his place on the witness stand. Huang was wearing his glasses, she noticed. Probably to appear more intelligent to the jury. Alex had once told her that this was the reason why she chose to fore-go contact lenses or corrective operations. Olivia could have told her another reason. Women with glasses are really sexy! For a moment, she thought about the new turquoise-rimmed glasses Dawn wore, but then forced her attention back to the trial.

Alex had just established Huang's experience as a FBI agent, a profiler, and forensic psychiatrist. "Doctor Huang, can you tell us about your involvement with the investigation in this case?"

"Detectives Benson and Stabler contacted me to look at the crime scene photos. I noticed right away that the perpetrator, who had attacked not only the women but their personal belongings, was not a total stranger. He knew his victims and seemed to harbor personal anger towards them," Huang explained.

Alex tacked enhanced photographs of the chaos in the victims' bedrooms to a board.

"He mostly destroyed books, magazines, and DVDs with lesbian content, but we only discovered that later," the forensic psychiatrist continued.

"What were your conclusions when you discovered the connection between the cases of Miss Kinsley, Miss Riggs, and Miss Matthews?" Alex asked.

"I came to the conclusion that we were dealing with a rapist who had a homophobic motive. Rape is not about sexual satisfaction, it's about control and power. The perpetrator wanted to exert control over lesbian women; he wanted them to experience and go back to a heterosexual life," Huang said.

Alex looked at him questioningly, as if she didn't already know the answer. "Why would he want them to do that?"

"Because he had been left behind by a lesbian and, at that time, had no power to prevent it," Huang answered.

"How does this theory relate to the defendant?"

Huang looked over at the red-faced man who was angrily staring at him from the defense table. "Mister Ballard's mother left the family when he was eight years old to live with another woman. In his eyes, he has been abandoned by a lesbian."

"Can you offer an explanation as to why Mister Ballard didn't use a condom?"

"Objection!" D'Aquino called. "Irrelevant and no personal knowledge!"

"Overruled," the judge decided. "Miss Cabot isn't asking for personal knowledge but for a professional opinion. The jury will keep in mind that this is only one possible explanation, and you'll later have enough opportunities to offer alternative explanations, Mister D'Aquino." She nodded at Huang to answer.

"He had to re-establish his manhood," Huang explained. "He wanted these women to experience his masculinity without barriers. He wanted them to see how good 'sex' with a man could be. For the same reason, he hit the women and broke Miss Kinsley's finger when they tried to look away from him. He wanted them to know that it was him, a man, they were with, not leaving them any room to fantasize about being with a woman."

"That sounds like a man who is blinded by hate…would you say that the defendant's mind was clear enough to know right from wrong?" Alex asked.

Olivia nodded in satisfaction. Alex was covering all the bases. They didn't want to give D'Aquino an out by portraying Ballard as a poor man who had been abandoned by his evil lesbian mother and had become an insane victim as a result.

"He knew what he was doing was wrong; he knew what consequences his actions could have – he threatened one of the victims, Miss Riggs, that he would kill her if she called the police," Huang reminded. The jury had already heard that there hadn't been much evidence in Miss Riggs' case, because she had hesitated a week before reporting the rape, and now they knew why. "He was methodical. He got a job which would allow him to not only observe his victims without drawing notice to himself, but also to have access to their personal information when he examined their identification. Despite the personal anger and hate he harbored, the defendant was clear enough to get the victim's addresses and to enter and leave their apartments without being seen."

"What about Mr. Ballard's contention that the sex was consensual and the victims are lying?" Alex asked.

"I have had an opportunity to interview the three women, and I highly doubt that they agreed to have sex with Mr. Ballard. The two earlier victims had never been in any form of a relationship with a male before, and Dr. Kinsley, while she had been married, her relationships since then have been strictly with females. In addition, at least one of the victims was almost completely in the closet at the time of the attack and would have had no reason to cover up sleeping with a man."

"Thank you, doctor." Alex passed D'Aquino on her way back to her own table. "Your witness."

The defense attorney straightened his tie and looked down at the small Asian man. "How long have you worked with the Special Victims Unit?"

"Almost a year now," Huang answered.

"Have you written any books or journal articles or done any studies on sex crimes?"

"No, not yet."

Olivia gritted her teeth. D'Aquino had an uncanny talent to make Alex's experts sound like inexperienced bunglers.

"How many diagnostic interviews did you do with my client before forming your theories about the alleged homophobic rape motives?" D'Aquino wanted to know.

"Mister Ballard refused to speak to me."

The defense lawyer rested his hands on the witness box and leaned forward. "So, that would be 'zero', right?"

"Yes," Huang had to admit.

"Thanks, nothing further."

Alex stood. "Redirect, Your Honor?"

"Mister D'Aquino didn't give you much scope to work within, Miss Cabot," Petrovsky warned.

"I'll stay within the scope of the cross, Your Honor," Alex promised. "I have just one question."

Finally, the judge nodded. "Proceed."

"Doctor Huang, how could you form an opinion of Mister Ballard if you couldn't interview him?"

"Interviews are not the only sources of information for a trained psychologist or psychiatrist," Huang answered. "I could rely on observation, physical evidence from the crime scenes, the police report from his interrogation, which I witnessed, and I spoke at length with a social worker who had contact with the Ballard family during the divorce of Mister Ballard's parents. Mister Ballard's father managed to get sole custody, and he prevented any further contact between his ex-wife and his son, so the only thing Garett Ballard knows about lesbians is the hate-filled image he learned from his father."

Alex gave a curt nod. "No more questions."

Lena Petrovsky excused Huang, and then looked down at the young A.D.A. from her bench. "Are you ready to proceed with your next witness, Miss Cabot?"

"Yes, Your Honor," Alex said from the prosecution's table. "The People call Lieutenant Delicia Vasquez Montero to the stand."

Olivia, still sitting in the first row of the gallery, held her breath. Alex had told her that Petrovsky could easily deny the lieutenant's testimony this late in the trial. She didn't have to wait long for a reaction.

Victor D'Aquino jumped up from his seat. "The defense objects, Your Honor! Lieutenant Vasquez Montero has never been identified as a possible witness!"

"It was brought to my attention just yesterday that she might have information relevant to this case, Your Honor," Alex defended.

Petrovsky looked at Alex over the rim of her glasses from her place on the bench, like a hawk looking down at a field mouse from his aerie. "Counselor, approach."

Alex stepped to the bench and listened to whatever the judge had to say.

From her place in the gallery, Olivia couldn't make out what Petrovsky told the A.D.A., but from Alex's facial expressions it was easy to see that the judge wasn't very enthusiastic about new witnesses appearing out of nowhere and told her so in no uncertain words.

Alex returned to her seat, and Petrovsky waved to the bailiff. "Lieutenant Vasquez may testify." The judge looked to D'Aquino when he started to protest. "We'll take a recess after the direct examination, leaving you ample time to prepare for your cross-exam."

Del entered and strode towards the witness stand without looking left or right. Her posture and her voice, when she swore to tell the truth, were confident, and Olivia had to admire her professionalism in this personal situation.

"Lieutenant Vasquez," Alex nodded at her witness, and Olivia's mind flashed back to her misunderstanding that Del had requested a hook-up of the non-professional kind with the A.D.A. Then Alex began her questioning and all other thoughts disappeared. "You are a decorated police officer, right?"

"Right," Del agreed matter-of-factly.

"How do you know Miss Kinsley?"

For a second, Del's gaze wandered to the gallery, where Grace Kinsley sat. "I was partnered with her father, James Kinsley, for ten years. I've known Miss Kinsley for twenty years."

"Do you see her a lot?" Alex asked.

"Once a week, I would say. I'm invited to all of the family dinners," Del explained.

Alex nodded. "And did you see Miss Kinsley on the evening of October 6^th?"

Olivia looked at Del's face, knowing that the next words would out her sexual orientation in front of the judge and half of the police department assembled in the gallery.

Del never hesitated. "Yes, I did. I went with her to the club."

"Why did Miss Kinsley go to the club on this evening?" Alex asked.

"Objection, speculation!" came the protest from the defense table. "The witness is not a mind-reader; she can't know Miss Kinsley's thoughts!"

"Withdrawn," Alex said before Petrovsky could force her to do it. "Why did you go to the club, Lieutenant?"

Del shrugged. "To kick back after an exhausting week, have a drink, dance, talk to Miss Kinsley and some other friends…the usual."

"The usual," Alex repeated. "So, picking up men wasn't a part of your plans for the evening?"

"Objection!"

"Overruled," Petrovsky said before D'Aquino had even finished voicing his objection. "I want to hear this."

An ironic half-smile flitted across Del's face. "We wouldn't have gone to a lesbian club if it had been."

"Did Miss Kinsley talk to a man during the evening?" Alex asked.

"There weren't that many to talk to and no, she didn't. She never spoke to anyone other than me and the two friends who came with us."

"Did she speak to anyone when you entered the club?" Alex asked, driving the point home that Dawn had never spoken with Ballard.

Del shook her head. "No. She gave her ID to Mister Ballard, when he requested it, but she didn't give him a second glance, nor did she speak to him."

Alex nodded in satisfaction. "Thank you, Lieutenant. Nothing further."

The hour of recess Petrovsky had granted the defense to prepare for Del Vasquez's cross-examination seemed to drag by slowly. Olivia was glad that she had taken the day off, because otherwise, the unplanned witness would have caused her to miss Dawn's testimony that would come later today.

Finally, sixty long minutes were over, and the bailiff called them back into the courtroom.

"On the evening in question, did you leave the club with Miss Kinsley?" the defense attorney began, taking position right in front of the witness stand.

"No," Del had to admit, "I left an hour or two before she did."

"Oh?" D'Aquino looked at her in fake surprise. "Then it is possible that Miss Kinsley spoke to my client and you just hadn't seen it because you'd already left the club?"

"Objection! Speculation! The witness has no personal knowledge and can't testify to what might or might not have happened during her absence!" Alex said before D'Aquino could force Del to admit that Dawn could have spoken to Ballard.

"Sustained."

D'Aquino gave up that line of questioning. He had already shown that Del hadn't been a witness to the whole evening. "You said that you've known Miss Kinsley for twenty years?"

"Yes."

"And in this time, have you ever known Miss Kinsley to sleep with a man?" D'Aquino fired the question at Del.

Olivia clenched her hands to fists, and from the tensing in her shoulders it wasn't hard to guess that, hidden by the witness box, Del was doing the same.

"Objection, Your Honor!" Alex leaned across the prosecutor's table to fix D'Aquino with an indignant stare. "Miss Kinsley's sexual history is inadmissible!"

"Your Honor, Miss Cabot opened the door to the question by asking about Miss Kinsley's plans to pick up men on the night in question," D'Aquino countered.

Petrovsky nodded almost regretfully. "The objection is overruled. The witness will answer the question."

Del took a moment before answering. Probably to unclench her teeth, Olivia thought grimly. "She was married, but—"

"A simple yes or no, please!" D'Aquino demanded.

Del's strong shoulders slumped. "Yes."

The defense attorney smiled. "No further questions."

Alex stood for the redirect before D'Aquino had reached his own table. "Lieutenant Vasquez, to your knowledge, does Miss Kinsley regularly frequent nightclubs?"

Del shook her head. "Not regularly. Work kept her busy a lot but she would find the time now and then."

"And how often did you accompany Miss Kinsley on these evenings out?"

"A fair number of times."

"On those occasions, did you see Miss Kinsley flirt with any men?" Alex asked.

Olivia relaxed the fists that she had clenched during D'Aquino's cross-examination. There was no way that Alex was going to let D'Aquino get away with manipulating all her witnesses. Olivia knew that it was imperative that Alex got the jury to see Dawn in a good light since her testimony came next.

"No," Del answered, her conviction clear in her voice and her expression.

"Lieutenant Vasquez, is it safe to assume that you know Miss Kinsley well?"

"Like my own daughter, yes." The Latina lieutenant looked towards the gallery for a moment.

"So it would also be safe to assume that she confides in you?"

"Yes, she does."

"Did she ever confide in you that she brought a man home for the night?" Now that D'Aquino had poked into Dawn's love life, Alex had no choice but to do the same.

The corner of Del's mouth twitched in amused disbelief, as if she didn't know whether she should become angry or laugh at the mere suggestion of Dawn having one-night stands. "No, as far as I know, Dawn has never had a one-night-stand with anyone, male or female. It's just not her thing."

Olivia looked away for a moment. Wish I could say that for myself. If I ever have a relationship with Dawn, I hope she doesn't hold it against me.

"Then, can you tell us about her romantic interests in the last few years?" Alex continued to enquire into Dawn's love life.

Olivia turned her head and looked at Grace, who was sitting two seats down the row. She looked pale, her lips pressed together.

Del looked at Grace for a moment too, before she answered. "She hasn't been in a relationship with a man or shown any interest in a man for the last five years."

Olivia noted with relief that Del had only told them the most important details for the case and protected Dawn's privacy otherwise.

"Nothing further." Alex sat back down.

Petrovsky raised her gavel. "We'll break now for lunch and reconvene in two hours. Court is adjourned."

SUPREME COURT

NEW YORK COUNTY

60 CENTRE STREET

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 15

Olivia lengthened her stride when she saw the now familiar figure of Grace Kinsley standing in the courthouse hallway. "Where's Dawn?" she asked, looking around for the younger Kinsley-woman. For the last two hours, nervousness had hummed through her every vein, and she wasn't sure if she was nervous because Dawn had to testify soon or because this would be the first time she saw her in a week.

"In there." Grace directed a concerned glance at the door of the ladies room.

"Is she okay?"

Grace sighed. "She has hardly eaten or slept in two days. I hope it'll all be over soon."

Olivia nodded. She couldn't agree more. "I'll go and see how she's doing," she offered.

When she entered the bathroom, it was empty except for one person. Dawn stood hunched over one of the sinks, leaning heavily on it with both hands. Her head hung down and when she finally lifted it, Olivia could see the water Dawn had just splashed into her pale face. At least she hoped they were drops of tap water and not tears rolling down her cheeks.

Dawn's eyes searched out Olivia's in the mirror.

"Hey." Olivia stepped closer and gently touched the small back. "You okay?"

"I'd be in there," Dawn pointed to one of the stalls, "chucking up my lunch if I'd eaten anything." She didn't try to play the unaffected hero, a refreshing change from all the macho cops Olivia knew. "I just hope I don't have a flashback right there on the stand or freeze up and—"

"It'll be all right," Olivia said, her hand moving in small, soothing circles over Dawn's stiff back. "If you need a break, just ask for one; Petrovsky will grant it."

Dawn took a deep breath and turned to her, away from the mirror. "Okay." Her gray-green eyes searched Olivia's face. "Can I have a good-luck hug?"

Without hesitation, Olivia opened her arms. Dawn needed the reassurance, and she didn't care who might walk in on them. She wrapped her arms around the trembling body and inhaled deeply. "I'll be right there, right behind you, sitting in the first row, okay?" she whispered into the blonde hair.

Dawn said nothing; she just rested against Olivia for a few seconds before she stepped back and squared her shoulders. "Let's go," she said with a sigh.

"Dawn?" Olivia said when they stepped out into the hallway and joined Dawn's mother. "Did you ever ride in a police cruiser?"

Now a small smile formed on Dawn's lips. "Isn't it a little late to find out if I've ever been arrested?"

Olivia returned the smile. "That's not why I'm asking."

"Ah, then is it an offer to spring me out of here with lights and sirens?"

Olivia chuckled. "Sorry, no, it's not. Just something a curious cop like me would like to know."

"Once around the parking lot of the 27^th precinct – without lights and sirens, though," Dawn admitted, smiling fondly at the memory.

"Did she get into trouble over it?" Olivia wanted to know.

Dawn looked back at her. "She?"

"Your driver."

"What makes you think it was a she?" Dawn asked innocently.

Olivia shrugged. "Let's just call it Detective's intuition."

All joking and conversation ceased when they reached the dark oak doors that separated them from the courtroom. "Want me to wait with you in the witness room?" Olivia offered, even though that would mean that she wouldn't be able to hear Dawn's testimony.

"No, you two go on in." Dawn gesticulated for her mother and Olivia to enter the courtroom. "I'll see you in a few minutes." A quick hug from Grace and a nod from Olivia, and Dawn walked down the hallway.

They followed her with their gazes for a few seconds, and then Olivia held open the double doors for Grace, entering behind her.

TRIAL PART 74

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 15

A court clerk opened the doors for her, and Dawn took her first steps into the courtroom. Her gaze immediately fell onto Garret Ballard, who had turned in his seat and was looking at her with a smirk.

Dawn looked away and took another step. She faltered when her vision blurred and a wave of dizziness overcame her. She pressed a hand against her heaving chest. For a moment, she was afraid that she would faint.

Then, her vision cleared a little, and she looked at the gallery, where her friends and family were looking at her in concern. Forcing a small smile, she nodded at them and resumed her way towards the witness stand.

Dawn felt the smooth, cool leather of the bible under her palm as she was sworn in. Somehow, it had a calming effect, perhaps because it reminded her of Olivia's favorite jacket.

"Would you please state your full name and spell it?"

"Dawn Brianna Kinsley. D-A-W-N, B-R-I-A-N-N-A, K-I-N-S-L-E-Y," Dawn said, glad to be distracted by the mundane task of spelling her name for a few seconds.

"Doctor Kinsley," Alex Cabot stopped next to the witness box and set down a glass of water in front of Dawn, receiving a nod for the thoughtful gesture, "can you tell us what happened on the night of October 6^th?"

Dawn's mouth went dry, and she took a sip of water. "I had been out to a club called 'Rainbows' that evening with three friends. I had come home alone. Around three o'clock, a loud noise woke me up. At first I thought it had been my cat jumping in through the window I always leave open for her, but when I went to investigate, there was a man standing in my living room." She remembered that moment of terror and fright clearly. She had stood there, frozen, for a second not sure if she was really awake or still dreaming.

"Go on," Alex Cabot encouraged her.

"He had a gun. He pressed me against the wall with his forearm across my throat and pointed it at my temple, while he told me that he would kill me if I tried to escape or call for help." Dawn looked straight at Alex, avoiding even a fleeting glance at Garret Ballard, afraid that she would lose her composure. "He ripped the phone cord from the wall and threw my cell phone out of the window. Then he dragged me back into the bedroom."

Alex nodded grimly. "What happened in there?"

Dawn took a few careful breaths, trying not to hyperventilate. "He pushed me down onto the bed and ripped my clothes. He forced my legs apart with one hand, while the other kept pressing the gun against my head." Dawn knew that she had to paint as detailed a picture for the jury as she could, even if it was hard for her. "Then he raped me."

"Did he say anything?" Alex asked.

Dawn clenched both hands around her water glass. "He told me to look at him – and he hit me any time I tried to turn my head away. He broke my finger when I laid a hand across my eyes. He wanted me to see who was doing this to me."

"Did he say anything else?"

"H-he…" Dawn shook her head to clear it when her vision began to blur. "He ordered me not to 'lie there like a dead fish' and to 'stop acting as if I didn't enjoy being fucked by a real man'," Dawn spat the words out, and then emptied her glass as if they had left a bad taste in her mouth.

Alex waited for a few seconds. "What happened next?"

"When he finally…ejaculated, he backhanded me one last time, and then started to throw things from my bookcase around and trample them," Dawn finished.

"Can you tell us what things specifically?" Alex asked.

Right after she had been raped, Dawn hadn't noticed which of her belongings her attacker went berserk on. She had lain there, trying to remove her mind from the present and not notice anything he did. But she had looked at photos of her bedroom a few weeks later. "Some books with lesbian characters, a few lesbian comedies, the photographs of my ex-girlfriend and a few other things that were in the way."

"Doctor Kinsley, had you ever seen the man who raped you before that night?"

"Well…" Dawn cleared her throat. "I thought I hadn't, but it turned out I just hadn't paid him any attention. He was the doorman of the club I went to that evening."

"Did you ever speak to that man before?" Alex asked.

Dawn shook her head empathically. "No, never."

"Is the man who raped you here in this courtroom today?" Alex half-stepped to the side so Dawn could get a clear view of the courtroom.

For the first time, Dawn was forced to look directly at the defense table and Garett Ballard. She wondered how he could return her gaze so coolly. "Yes."

"Would you point that man out for the jury, please?"

Slowly, Dawn raised her hand and pointed an accusing finger at Ballard.

"Your Honor, may the record reflect that the witness identified the defendant, Mister Ballard, as the man who raped her," Alex said in the direction of the bench.

The judge nodded. "Let the record so indicate."

"Miss Kinsley, you said the man threatened you with a gun…could you describe it?"

The matter-of-fact question was easy to answer for Dawn. "It was a Glock 17, a nine millimeter semi-automatic pistol."

Alex held up a transparent evidence bag with a red seal. "Have you ever seen this weapon, indexed as People's exhibit seven, before?"

Dawn looked down at the black gun. "It's the Glock he held against my temple."

"Objection, Your Honor!" D'Aquino's voice boomed through the courtroom, making Dawn jump. "Move to strike! The witness is a psychologist, not a weapons expert. She can't identify individual weapons."

Petrovsky looked from him to Dawn. "Overruled. You can impeach her ability to identify the weapon in your cross-examination, Counselor."

"Doctor, you were able to help the police with their investigation; how so?" Alex began her next line of questioning.

"I work as a rape counselor, and I noticed the similarities of a patient's case to my own. After the patient agreed to waive patient-doctor confidentiality, I alerted Detective Benson to the fact that the rapes might have a homophobic background," Dawn told her, feeling more confident now that her testimony resembled that of an expert witness, not that of a victim.

"And after they arrested Mister Ballard, did the police ask for your help again?"

Dawn looked to the gallery, catching the intense gaze of Olivia's brown eyes for a second. "They asked me to come to the station for a line-up."

"What were the results?" Alex asked.

"I was able to pick out Mister Ballard as the man who had raped me in a line-up of six men."

Alex nodded, looking back over her shoulder at Ballard. "How sure of that identification were you?"

"100 percent," Dawn said without hesitation.

"Thank you. No further questions for now, Your Honor."

Dawn pressed her lips together as she watched Alex sit down and the defense attorney approach.

"Miss Kinsley, do you have a gun license?"

Dawn studied him suspiciously. Where is he going with this? "No, I don't."

"So, you're not a weapons expert?"

Now Dawn knew what he was trying to achieve with the question. He wanted to poke holes into her identification of the gun Ballard had used. "Not in the strictest sense of the word, no."

"Did you know that Smith & Wesson is being sued by Glock because Smith & Wesson's Sigma series is very similar to the Glock?" D'Aquino asked her.

Dawn had to suppress her annoyance. She had to answer truthfully even if the question had nothing to do with her ability to identify Ballard's weapon. "No, I didn't know that."

The defense attorney held up another evidence bag with a gun in it. It had the same black polymer-plastic grip the Glock had. "I submit Defense's exhibit one, a pistol produced by Smith & Wesson, into evidence."

"Received."

D'Aquino turned back towards Dawn, and she almost began to fear his next question. "Miss Kinsley, you said you'd been out to a club on the night in question?"

"Yes."

"How much did you have to drink?" D'Aquino demanded to know.

Now he's trying to show that I drank too much and that had lowered my inhibitions! Dawn noticed incredulously.

Alex's objection saved her from having to answer. "Objection, relevance? Even if Miss Kinsley had been drunk, – which she wasn't – engaging in sexual intercourse with a person who is incapable of consent because of intoxication is still rape!"

"Don't lecture me on the law, Miss Cabot!" the judge warned her. "Overruled. Please answer the question, Doctor Kinsley."

"I had two low-alcohol cocktails, nothing more," Dawn answered.

"Did you limit yourself because you're not used to alcohol?" D'Aquino asked.

Anger and annoyance began to replace the fear Dawn felt. "I limited myself because I was the designated driver and still had to drive home."

"Still, isn't it true that you don't drink a lot and are not used to alcohol?"

"Objection!" Alex stood again. "Already asked and answered. He's badgering the witness!"

Petrovsky fixed the defense attorney with a glare. "Sustained. Move on, Counselor!"

"You said you are a rape counselor?"

Dawn nodded, gladly answering the more neutral question. "Yes. I do one on one and group counseling of survivors of rape and sexual abuse…or rather, that was what I did before I was raped." It hurt to admit that perhaps she would never work with those patients again.

"You only worked with rape victims?" D'Aquino asked.

Dawn became increasingly irritated with him. "There's no 'only' about it, Mister D'Aquino, but yes, I work…I worked exclusively with rape and sexual abuse victims."

D'Aquino stepped closer. "Are you obsessed with rape, Doctor? Is every man automatically a rapist for you?"

Alex was on her feet before he had uttered the last word. "Objection! Your Honor…!"

"That is enough Mr. D'Aquino. You have been warned repeatedly to cease that line of questioning. I am hereby imposing a fine of $200 for contempt of court. Make one more attempt and you will be enjoying the hospitality of the State tonight. The jury is instructed to disregard Mr. D'Aquino's question, and it shall be stricken from the records."

Breathing heavily, Dawn watched as the defense attorney got an ear full from the judge. Petrovsky had stricken D'Aquino's questions, but the jury had heard them and what they implied. The damage had been done.

She looked at Alex, and then across the courtroom at Olivia, Del and her mother. All of them gave her reassuring nods, helping her to regain her composure.

Finally, D'Aquino returned to his position in front of the witness stand. "Miss Kinsley, when Mister Ballard took you to the bedroom," he began, deliberately choosing words that could imply that she had willingly followed him as easily as they could imply the use of force, "did you do or say anything to him that he could have misunderstood as a sign of consent?"

"No!" Dawn answered with force.

"You didn't compliment him?" D'Aquino rested one hand onto the witness box, leaning towards her.

Dawn wildly shook her head. "I didn't."

"Then it is not true that you told my client that he was handsome?"

Dawn opened her mouth for another vehement 'no', but then closed it again. Oh, dear God! He's trying to use that against me?! She hadn't been prepared for it.

"Miss Kinsley?" D'Aquino pressed.

She bit her lip and laid a hand over her eyes. "I…"

The defense attorney turned to the judge. "Your Honor, please instruct the witness to answer the question."

"Doctor Kinsley," Petrovsky's voice was gentle, but firm. "You have to answer."

"I told him—"

"A yes or no answer is enough," D'Aquino interrupted.

Dawn clenched her teeth. "Yes," she admitted grimly.

"And did you not also tell my client you were sure that there were a lot of women who found him attractive and would like to sleep with him?" the defense lawyer fired his next question at her.

Dawn looked down at her hands in defeat. She knew that her words sounded like the compliments of a lover, even if they had been a victim's desperate attempts to talk her way out of a rape. "Yes."

"And is it not also true that, while you were in bed with Mister Ballard, you never sounded scared?"

"I tried not—"

Once again, D'Aquino didn't let her finish the sentence. "Yes or no?"

Dawn sighed. "Yes."

"Nothing further."

Dawn heaved a sigh of relief when the defense attorney moved away from her and sat back down. Anxiously, she looked at Alex, who was still appearing calm and collected as she stood again.

"Doctor Kinsley, is there a reason why you told Mister Ballard things that sounded complimentary?"

"Yes!" Now that Dawn could finally say it, the words were practically shooting out of her. "I was trying to talk him out of raping me. I told him he didn't have to resort to violence to get a woman to sleep with him."

"Did you have the impression that he took that to mean you would sleep with him out of your own free will?" Alex asked.

Dawn didn't get to answer. "Objection!" D'Aquino called. "Prosecution is calling for an opinion!"

"Your Honor, Doctor Kinsley is not only a victim, she's an experienced psychologist specialized in rape cases!" Alex countered. "Her opinion is more than the mere speculation of a lay witness!"

"Objection overruled," Petrovsky decided. "Doctor Kinsley, please summarize your impression for the jury."

"Mister Ballard knew that I wasn't consenting," Dawn emphasized. "He didn't listen to a word I said. He told me to 'shut up' and hit me. He threatened me with his gun the whole time. I submitted to him because I feared for my life, but that doesn't equal consent."

Alex pointed back towards the defense table. "Mister D'Aquino mentioned that you didn't sound particularly scared that night. Is there a reason for that?"

"Yes. In my professional experience, begging and crying sends a weak psychological message," Dawn answered as matter-of-factly as she could. "Studies have shown that people who sound like victims have a higher probability of becoming victims, so I tried to reason with him instead."

Alex nodded in understanding. "One last question. Why is it that you're so sure regarding the weapon Mister Ballard used during the attack?"

"My father, my older brother, my ex-husband and at least a dozen of my friends were or are police officers. I've seen their duty weapons a thousand times, so I could identify a Glock anytime. And," Dawn swallowed, "you never forget a weapon you had to stare at for half an hour while you lay there and feared for your life."

Alex returned to her table. "Nothing further, thank you."

"Recross, Your Honor." D'Aquino approached her again. "Miss Kinsley, is there any possibility that a man, blended by attraction, could misread signals and misinterpret words as compliments even if the woman didn't mean it like that?"

"Yes, but—"

"Thank you," D'Aquino interrupted, "no further questions."

Long after Alex had announced "The People rest" and Petrovsky had decided to adjourn until the next day, Dawn sat in the witness box, numbly staring straight ahead.

Part 13

TRIAL PART 74

FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 16

Olivia looked up as Dawn slipped into the courtroom a few minutes before the trial was set to continue. She hadn't been sure if Dawn would be there to watch her rapist's testimony. Olivia stood and moved down the row, vacating her seat for Dawn so she could sit between her and Del, where she seemed to feel safest.

"Thanks." Dawn's half-smile was genuine, but tense.

"How are you?" Olivia asked, studying her.

Dawn's gaze flitted from the still empty witness stand to Olivia's face. "I hate being here and having to listen to all the lies Ballard's undoubtedly going to tell, but I hated the thought of sitting at home and imagining what might go on in here even more."

Olivia nodded sympathetically. "Just two or three more days and it'll all be over," she tried to comfort the younger woman.

"Not everything will be over," Dawn corrected grimly, but then squeezed Olivia's forearm with a somewhat milder expression. "But I know what you mean, and that'll probably help me with getting my life back to some level of normality."

Olivia gazed down at the clammy hand on her arm. She hesitantly lifted her own hand to cover the smaller fingers, but before she could, the defense attorney called his first witness, and Dawn grabbed the edge of her seat with both hands as Garett Ballard strode towards the witness stand.

Ballard didn't blink an eye when he swore to tell the truth, even though Olivia was sure that every word coming from his lips would be a lie.

"Garett," Victor D'Aquino used his client's first name to make him appear more likeable to the jury, "can you tell us where you were on the evenings of June 5^th, 2000; April 22^nd and October 6^th of this year?"

"At work," Ballard answered, looking very much like the honest, hard-working man he had never been. "I work as a security specialist for a club on Gansevoort Street."

"What kind of club is it exactly?"

Ballard shrugged. "All kinds of people frequent the club, but mostly it's lesbians or bisexual women."

D'Aquino smiled. "So, there's not a lot of workplace romance going on, huh?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that." Ballard showed pearly white teeth as he grinned. "I've had women come up to me and ask me straight out to come home and have a one-night stand with them."

"Objection, Your Honor!" Alex took off her glasses to look at Ballard and his attorney with unveiled disgust. "Is there any relevance to this line of questioning or does counsel just want to give his client an opportunity to brag about his alleged conquests?"

A few people in the audience somewhere in the row behind Olivia were giggling, and Petrovsky sustained the objection, ordering D'Aquino to move on. "Under what circumstances did you get to know Melanie Riggs, Jayne Matthews, and Dawn Kinsley?" the defense lawyer asked his client.

"I never knew their names, but I knew them in the biblical sense." Ballard's answer garnered a few laughs.

Olivia didn't find it funny in the least. Clenching her teeth, she looked at Dawn out of the corner of her eyes and saw her getting even paler than she had been before.

Judge Petrovsky fixed the defendant with a disapproving stare, and D'Aquino quickly asked the next question before she could reprimand his client. "How did you meet them?"

"They came to the club and struck up a conversation with me. They sent me drinks, and when the club finally closed, they asked me to come home with them," Ballard claimed.

"Why did you accept these invitations if you knew they were lesbians?" D'Aquino wanted to know.

Ballard looked directly at Dawn. "They were attractive, and I knew it would be sex without emotional entanglements. They wanted this one night and nothing else from me, and that was just what I wanted."

He almost made it sound believable; Olivia had to give him that.

"What happened when you reached the apartments you had been invited to?" D'Aquino continued his questions.

"They didn't invite me in to drink coffee, so we usually stumbled straight to the bedroom. The last one," Ballard pointed to Dawn, "even ripped the phone line out to make sure that we wouldn't be interrupted."

Olivia clenched her hands to fists and saw Del and Grace on Dawn's other side do the same.

D'Aquino nodded. "And how do you explain the bruises and bite marks the E.R. doctor described?"

"Some of them were into pretty wild stuff," Ballard said with a grin. "Bondage, domination, sadomasochism, sex games…They told me they liked it rough and demanded that I do it 'harder' and 'make it hurt'. I just went along with what they wanted."

Olivia stared at him; disbelief, anger and disgust warring within her.

"No," Dawn whispered next to her, "that's not true! I didn't…that bastard!"

"I know." Olivia reached over and took the smaller hand in her own, easing the psychologist's fear that Ballard would be believed over her. "I know he's lying and everyone here is going to know it by the end of the day; just wait for Alex's cross."

"Can you tell us why you didn't use protection with any of these women?"

Ballard held up his hands. "I had some with me, but they didn't want me to use 'em."

D'Aquino pretended to be puzzled. "Did they tell you why?"

"Oldest story in the book: They're lesbians wanting to get pregnant by having a one-night stand with a good-looking stranger," Ballard explained, carefully holding back any hateful or derogatory words against lesbians.

His lawyer must have drilled him to appear as a tolerant, lesbian-friendly man who was kind enough to donate his sperm! Olivia thought grimly. She felt Dawn's hand twitch in her own and started to draw soothing circles with her thumb on the back of the trembling hand.

"Did any of them indicate that they wanted to stop at any time?"

"No, never," Ballard answered with conviction.

D'Aquino looked at the jury, making sure everyone had heard it. "Why would they file a police report and falsely accuse you of rape, then?"

"I don't know, but I guess their girlfriends must have found out that they had slept with a man and reacted none too pleased," Ballard said with a shrug. "Trying to make it look like an assault was the only way to save them from the embarrassment."

"Did you clear up that misunderstanding when the police came to the club?" D'Aquino asked.

Finally, Alex found a reason to object. "Defense is leading his own witness, Your Honor!"

"Sustained. Rephrase that question, Mister D'Aquino," Petrovsky demanded.

"What happened when the police came to the club?"

"I would have tried to clear up the misunderstanding," Ballard used his lawyer's words, "had I known that they were police officers, but I didn't know that. The female cop stood in line like every other customer and when she suddenly stepped close to me, I expected an attack and had to fight back."

D'Aquino nodded at him. "Thank you, Garett. Nothing further for now."

Alex strode towards the witness box, closing in on Ballard like a tigress going after its prey. "Mister Ballard, you claim you didn't know that Detectives Stabler and Benson were police officers, even though they testified that they had shown you their badges?"

Ballard smiled coolly. "People say and do all kinds of crazy things to get into the club…claiming they're celebrities, showing fake ID…"

"Did anyone ever start to read you your Fifth Amendment rights to get into the club?" Alex asked sarcastically.

"No," Ballard had to admit.

Alex wandered over to the jury box, forcing Ballard to half-turn to keep her into his sight. "How do you usually react when someone tried a trick to get into the club?"

"I tell 'em that their trick was already old when Methuselah was a boy and send them on their way," Ballard explained with a grin.

"What does 'send them on their way' include?" Alex wanted to know. "Do you resort to violence?"

Ballard shook his head. "That's usually not necessary."

"So, you don't hit them, or spit at them, or call them a bitch like you did with Detective Benson?" Now Alex was in her shark-attack mode.

"Objection!" D'Aquino shouted. "Already asked and answered! My client already explained that he doesn't normally use violence!"

"Sustained," Petrovsky decided. "Miss Cabot…"

Alex nodded. "I'll move on."

Olivia knew that she could afford to let it go. Ballard's feeble attempts to make the jury believe that he hadn't known they were real cops were easy to see through. Proving rape beyond a reasonable doubt was the more difficult part.

"Mister Ballard, you do know what the word 'lesbian' means, don't you?" Alex asked in a condescending tone meant to provoke Ballard. She obviously wanted to have another go at the tactic they had used during the interrogation.

"Yeah," Ballard spat out, but a warning glance from his lawyer prevented him from saying more.

Alex fixed the defendant with her cross-exam stare. "Then you know that the scientific definition is not 'a woman who's never been fucked by a real man' like you told Miss Riggs, Miss Matthews and Miss Kinsley?"

"Objection! Your Honor, she's badgering the witness!" D'Aquino complained.

"Counselor!" Petrovsky didn't raise her voice - she didn't need to; the expression of her dark eyes was threat enough.

Alex nodded, silently promising that she would tone it down. "A lesbian is a woman who is physically and emotionally attracted to women, and you are a man, aren't you?" She smiled down at Ballard; a grin that was anything but friendly.

A vein pounded on Ballard's forehead. Olivia wanted to cheer Alex on and encourage her to further provoke Ballard, but at the same time, she was afraid that Alex would go too far and Ballard would attack her.

This time, D'Aquino didn't even have to object; Petrovsky spoke before he could. "Drop this attitude right now! Another question like that and I'll hold you in contempt and let you enjoy the hospitality of my holding cell!"

Alex raised a placating hand and took a half-step back. "How do you explain that three women who identify as lesbians, not as bisexual, allegedly slept with you when they could have picked any of the attractive women from the club?" she asked, a little tamer now.

"There's some things they still need a man for," Ballard told her arrogantly.

Alex tapped her finger against her leg. "You said it was the women's decision not to use a condom?"

"That's right," Ballard readily agreed. "They told me they wanted a baby."

Alex looked doubtfully at him. "All three of them?"

"Yes."

Olivia noticed with triumph that it sounded pretty unlikely. Unless the club put some hormones into the cocktails that activate the need to reproduce!

"And all three of them chose you as the father?"

Ballard grinned cockily. "Guess they wanted my good looks for their kids."

"Did you know that, according to scientific studies, most lesbian couples who want to have a baby choose an anonymous donor from a sperm bank or a donor who is related to one of them?" Alex asked him.

Olivia raised a brow. Seems like our Alex is full of information about lesbians, huh?

"Not these three," Ballard insisted.

"Tell me, Mr. Ballard, are you capable of having children?"

Ballard's head jerked around, and he stared at Alex with eyes that were burning with indignant anger. "Of course I am!"

"You're sure of that?" Alex had perfected the skeptical glance, looking at Ballard as though he couldn't even manage to raise a pencil, much less anything else.

"Sure I'm sure, " Ballard blistered. "There ain't nothing wrong with me!"

"Well, if all of them only slept with you to become pregnant, and there's nothing wrong with you, how do you explain the fact that none of them is pregnant today?" Alex asked, moving back to the witness box to stare down at the defendant.

Ballard shrugged. "I suppose sometimes it takes more than one time."

"And how do you explain the fact that Miss Riggs, Miss Matthews, and Miss Kinsley all took the morning-after pill when they were treated in the hospital? Why would they do that if they wanted to get pregnant?" Alex fired her questions at Ballard, who was visibly beginning to sweat on the stand.

"Maybe they changed their minds," he answered weakly.

"All three of them?"

D'Aquino stood. "Objection, Your Honor, asked and answered!"

"Sustained," Petrovsky agreed.

Alex had already proven what she wanted and moved on. "It's your theory that Miss Riggs, Miss Matthews, and Miss Kinsley accused you of raping them because their girlfriends found out and reacted negatively to their alleged one-night stand with you, is that correct?"

"Exactly."

"Wouldn't you say it disproves your little theory when I tell you that none of them had a girlfriend or a partner at the time?" Alex rested both hands on the stand, glowering down at Ballard.

"No!" Ballard's voice was getting louder, less controlled. "Then there must have been other people that they didn't want to know about a heterosexual affair, their families and lesbian friends."

Alex shook her head. "Why should they try to hide it? If they would have gotten pregnant, surely no one would have believed it was from a lesbian affair," she commented dryly.

"That is why they lied and accused me!"

"Why would they choose such a complicated lie, then? Why not just tell their families they had gone to a sperm bank and used an anonymous donor?" Alex asked logically.

Ballard's mouth opened and closed, but he didn't answer.

"Did you understand the question or do you want me to repeat it, Mister Ballard?" Alex asked in a condescending manner that made Olivia smile. Go, Alex! Rip him to shreds!

Ballard stared at Alex like he was only seconds away from calling her a bitch, too.

Alex remained unimpressed; she didn't move an inch. "You don't want to answer my question, do you?"

"Objection, Your Honor," D'Aquino came to his client's help. "Mister Ballard is not a psychologist; he can't answer questions about the motive and reason for these women's behavior!"

"Not being a psychologist didn't prevent your client from offering us his theories about why the women allegedly had sex with him," Alex countered coolly. "He was not afraid to speculate about reasons and motives then."

Petrovsky nodded at her. "The objection is overruled. Mister Ballard, please answer the People's question."

Ballard glowered at Alex. "What was the question?"

"Why did none of the three women choose a simpler lie to hide their alleged one-night stand with you? Why choose a lie that would result in a police investigation and a trial, where the truth could easily be discovered?" Alex folded her arms and looked down at Ballard along the line of her aristocratic nose.

Olivia squeezed Dawn's hand in triumph when Ballard hesitated. She hoped that it was as obvious to the jury as it was to her that Ballard was running out of feeble excuses.

"I guess they didn't think that far ahead," Ballard finally said.

"You want us to believe that they were intelligent enough to think up an elaborate conspiracy to frame you for three rapes but not clever enough to think about the consequences? Not one of them?" Alex asked doubtfully.

"Objection, my client has already answered that!" the defense attorney called.

Petrovsky spared a glance in the direction of the defense counsel. "He has not. Overruled. Mr. Ballard?"

"Uh…I guess they weren't as smart as they thought."

Alex took a step closer to the witness stand so she could look down at Ballard more effectively. "They weren't or you weren't, Mr. Ballard?"

"Objection, Your Honor! She's badgering my client!"

"Withdrawn."

Olivia knew that it didn't matter because the jury members had heard Alex's question and would be drawing their own conclusions.

"No further questions, Your Honor," Alex announced and strode away.

Victor D'Aquino stood. Olivia watched as he nestled with his tie for a few seconds. Does it feel like the noose around your neck is getting a little tight, buddy? She thought with a grin.

"Garett, what do you know about the finances of Miss Riggs, Miss Matthews, and Miss Kinsley?"

Alex shot up from her seat. "Objection, Your Honor! The question is exceeding the scope of the cross-examination!"

"No, it's not," D'Aquino protested. "It is meant to show why some of the women preferred a one-night stand to get pregnant and didn't use a sperm bank."

"Overruled – for now," the judge emphasized. "I'll give you a little rope, Mister D'Aquino; you better not hang yourself with it! You may answer the question, Mr. Ballard."

"Well, I guess the first one, Miss Matthews, I think, was not too well off; she hardly had any furniture, and the whole apartment building was pretty run down."

You mean easy to break into, you bastard! Olivia thought grimly.

"Do you think she could afford to use a sperm bank to get pregnant?" D'Aquino asked.

Visibly relieved at having been shown a possible explanation for his allegations, Ballard shook his head. "Definitely not."

"Garett, do you have any proof that the women slept with you because they wanted to have babies?" D'Aquino asked his client.

"The strawberry-blonde," Ballard pointed to Dawn, making her jerk, "had pictures and photos of kids everywhere, like she was obsessed with them."

"Thank you, nothing further."

Alex stood again. "Re-cross, Your Honor? Just two or three questions."

Petrovsky nodded.

"Mr. Ballard, would you describe the apartment of 'the strawberry blonde,' as you put it, as being run down?"

"Well, not really but—"

"Would you expect a successful psychologist and a history professor to make enough money to afford artificial insemination?" Alex asked point-blank, not allowing him the opportunity to finish his last statement.

"I suppose," Ballard was forced to admit.

"Did you know that the children in the photos in Miss Kinsley's apartment are her niece and her nephew?"

Ballard began to fidget. "No," he said through clenched teeth.

"Would you call it an obsession with babies to have a few pictures of your niece and nephew in your apartment?" Alex asked her last question.

"She wanted to have a baby!" Ballard protested.

Dawn's fingers wrapped tighter around Olivia's. "Not with him," she whispered.

"That was not what I asked you, Mister Ballard," Alex told him sharply.

Ballard shrugged. "I guess it's not directly an obsession, but—"

"Thank you, Mr. Ballard," Alex interrupted. "One more thing. You testified that Miss Kinsley ripped the phone cord out herself, even though Mr. Jenkins, the fingerprint expert, testified that your prints were found on the cord?"

"She did," Ballard stubbornly insisted.

"How did her cell phone, on which your prints were also found, get tossed out the window? Did she also do that herself?"

"Yes."

"Because she didn't want to be interrupted?" Alex didn't bother to hide the disbelief in her voice.

"Yes."

"Why didn't she just turn it off? Are you saying that she was so overwhelmed by your being a 'real man'," Alex formed quotation marks with her fingers, only a few inches away from Ballard's face, "that her common sense deserted her and she tried to throw a perfectly good phone down to the street?"

The defense attorney stood again. "Objection! Your Honor, counsel is badgering the witness."

"Withdrawn. No further questions." Alex sat back down with one last, cold stare at Garett Ballard.

The judge looked at D'Aquino. "Do you have any other witnesses?"

"Yes, Your Honor. The defense calls Janice Cahill," D'Aquino announced.

A tall woman with short blonde hair walked in and took the stand. Who's she? Olivia wondered. Ballard's character witness?

"Miss Cahill, what is your occupation?" D'Aquino asked after the witness had been sworn in.

"I'm the manager and co-owner of a club called 'Rainbows'," the blonde explained.

"How long has the defendant been your employee?"

Janice Cahill thought for a few seconds. "Five, almost six years now."

"And during that time, has Mister Ballard ever acted in a hostile manner towards any of your customers?" D'Aquino wanted to know.

"No, never."

"And in your conversations with Mister Ballard, did he ever indicate any negative feelings towards homosexual people?"

The club owner shook her head again. "No."

"Have you ever heard of affairs between members of your male staff and some of the customers?" the defense attorney asked.

"Not often and I certainly don't encourage it, but yes, it has happened before," Janice Cahill confirmed.

D'Aquino turned back towards the defense table with a satisfied smile. "Thank you. That will be all."

"Miss Cahill," Alex paced in front of the witness box, "tell us what would have happened if you had ever heard derogatory remarks against lesbians from Mister Ballard or seen him act hostile towards a customer."

The club owner straightened. "I would have fired him immediately!"

Alex stopped her pacing to look directly in the witness' eyes. "Did Mister Ballard know what the consequences would be should his homophobic attitudes become apparent?"

"Yes. All employees are informed of the club's policies before their first day at work."

"Mr. Ballard testified that your clientele consists of mainly lesbians and bisexual women. Is that correct?" Olivia noticed that Alex's voice was not as cold as during Ballard's cross. Her gestures were softer, and she had taken a half-step back, not encroaching on the witness' personal space like she had done with Ballard.

"Yes, it is," the nightclub owner answered readily, reacting to Alex's friendly approach.

"Generally, how well do you know your customers, Miss Cahill?"

"I know most of the regulars pretty well."

Olivia couldn't tell where Alex was going with this. She knew that Dawn hadn't been a regular at 'Rainbows' or at any other club, but she trusted Alex's abilities and kept listening in silence.

"These affairs between male staff members and some of your clientele, were these women regulars with whom you were familiar?"

"Yes."

"And did they identify as lesbians?" Alex wanted to know.

The club owner shook her head. "No, in each case the woman in question was bisexual."

"Did you ever see a lesbian customer flirt with Mister Ballard, buy him a drink or ask him to go home with her?"

Cahill shook her head again. "I never witnessed that, no."

"No further questions, Your Honor." Alex was through with the last witness of the trial.

Victor D'Aquino stood again but didn't make the effort to walk to the witness stand to ask his last question. "Is it possible that Mister Ballard had affairs with customers without your knowledge?"

"Objection!" Alex didn't want to allow him to have the last word. "That's beyond the personal knowledge of this witness! The answer would be a mere speculation."

Lena Petrovsky inclined her dark head. "Sustained."

"No further questions, Your Honor. The defense rests," D'Aquino declared.

"Very well." Petrovsky nodded and excused the witness. "We'll reconvene on Monday, nine a.m., to hear the closing arguments. Court is adjourned."

The gavel banged, and everyone rose while the jury and the judge filed out the side entrance.

TRIAL PART 74

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 19

"Is the defense ready to proceed with its closing argument?" Lena Petrovsky asked.

"Yes, Your Honor." Victor D'Aquino took position in front of the jury box. "Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, when I stood before you a little over a week ago, I told you this case was about an innocent man who was wrongfully accused of crimes he didn't commit – I still feel that way." D'Aquino shifted his weight and let his gaze wander along the rows of jury members. "As in every criminal case, the prosecution has the burden of proof, and in the case against Garett Ballard, they could not keep their promises and prove his guilt beyond a reasonable doubt. During this trial, the prosecution presented no concrete evidence to support their allegations of rape."

No evidence? Olivia snorted. Give me a break, you jerk!

"The only evidence they have is circumstantial and can be interpreted in many ways. According to the law, you have to adopt the interpretation in favor of the defendant, because he has the presumption of being innocent." D'Aquino raised his index finger, and gazed at the jury members with a serious expression.

"The prosecution presented an inexperienced police officer who would not know a real crime from a staged one. Next, they called a detective who was predisposed to believe anything the alleged witness said because of their previous acquaintance. Their physical evidence – fibers, semen, and fingerprints – proved nothing more than that my client had been in the apartments and had sex with these women; a fact that he readily admitted to. The People didn't prove a homophobic motive. Just the opposite, in fact: A lesbian woman, who worked closely with Mister Ballard for years, told you he has always acted with respect and tolerance towards lesbians."

D'Aquino moved along the first row of jurors. "Even their own expert witness, Doctor Van Hayden, admitted that patients rarely confess that their injuries were caused by rough sex, because they're too embarrassed to. And that is exactly what happened on the nights in question. Therefore, I ask that you acquit my client and find him not guilty. Thank you."

Petrovsky scribbled something down on her legal pad. "Are the People ready for their closing argument?"

"Ready, Your Honor."

Olivia's eyes were on Alex as she rose and strode over to the jury box, appearing calm and concentrated. "Ladies and Gentlemen, this is not a case resting on circumstantial evidence like the defense wants you to believe. Every possible testimony you heard in the last week – except for the defendant's – pointed to the fact that three brutal rapes had occurred; had been committed by the defendant, Garett Ballard. While some of the evidence may blur the line between rough consensual sex and rape, there is more than enough to prove the latter: Torn clothing, bruises, broken bones, vaginal tears at a position consistent with rape, a gun that has been found in Mister Ballard's apartment, his fingerprints on a ripped out phone line and on a cell phone that had been thrown out of the window."

Alex counted it off for the jury with her fingers, and then shook her hands to emphasize her next words. "Every single piece of evidence tells us that these three women have been raped, just like they said. The defense's attempt to come up with a motive as to why they should accuse an innocent man of rape has been less than convincing. Why should they be embarrassed or ashamed about having a heterosexual affair when many families of lesbian women would throw a victory party should that ever happen?" Alex looked intently at each juror in turn.

"When Mister Ballard tried to explain why three women, who had never spoken to him or to each other, should first sleep with him, and then accuse him of rape, he got entangled in his own web of lies. All of the testimony – that of an experienced E.R. doctor and a detective with the Special Victims Unit, for example – indicates that Melanie Riggs, Jayne Matthews, and Dawn Kinsley were raped by the defendant and Dr. Huang explained his motive: a pathological hatred against lesbians that the defendant developed after having been left by his lesbian mother and raised by his homophobic father." Alex half-turned towards Ballard who was staring at her with angry eyes.

"The crime, the motive, and the perpetrator have been proven beyond a reasonable doubt. I ask that you seek justice for the victims, make the defendant accountable for his actions and return a verdict of guilty on all counts," Alex demanded, intently looking at every juror who would make eye contact. "Thank you."

Petrovsky leaned forward to instruct the jury, and then excused them to the jury room for deliberations. She raised her voice to be heard over the whispered conversations that started in the gallery. "This court is adjourned."

Olivia finally leaned back. She looked at Dawn, who was sitting next to her on the edge of her seat, with a pale face and clenched hands.

"God, I think I need a drink," Dawn whispered, leaning her head back tiredly.

"Then let's go and have one," Olivia suggested spontaneously. "Alex will page me when the jury returns."

Dawn hesitated. She looked to her left, where her mother and Del sat.

"Ah, you go with her, grasshopper," Del Vasquez encouraged her. "Your mom and I can manage to get smashed on our own."

"Del!" Dawn and Grace slapped her on the shoulder from both sides.

Olivia smiled, grateful that Del's comment had lightened the mood and made Dawn laugh. She waited patiently for Dawn's decision.

"Okay, let's go." Dawn rose and followed her out the courtroom's double doors.

Olivia shortened her stride, remaining protectively at Dawn's side. Her warning gaze and the gold shield she wore made sure that no one in the busy hallway strayed too close to Dawn. Soon, they began to descend the steps leading to the courthouse building. "Where do you want to go?" Olivia wanted to let Dawn decide in which bar or restaurant she would feel safe.

"You know what…" Dawn stopped on the step above Olivia so she could gaze into her eyes without looking up. "If you don't mind, I'd rather take a rain check on that drink."

Directly face to face now, Olivia studied the other woman. Dawn seemed edgy and exhausted. "You're tired, huh?"

"I'm still not sleeping very well on some nights," Dawn admitted. "The trial brought back a lot of memories. And I don't want to be falling down drunk when the jury comes back with the verdict, no matter what it's going to be."

Olivia pushed back her disappointment about parting ways so soon and nodded in understanding. "Alex said it could be a while before the jury gets back, and your place is just around the corner; why don't you go home and take a nap?" she suggested.

"I'd like that – but not alone."

She wants to take a nap with me?! Olivia was suddenly glad that she had already reached the last step, sure that she would have tumbled down the stairs otherwise.

Dawn had to laugh when she saw the look on Olivia's face. "Come home with me, Detective," she invited, almost matter-of-factly, "for coffee and company, nothing more."

Fool! Olivia scolded herself. Sharing a bed with you, even platonically, is probably the last thing on her mind! "Nothing more? Does that mean I don't get cookies with my coffee this time?" She tried to hide her embarrassment behind a joke.

Dawn smiled. "Hmm, maybe I can scare up a few…"

They strolled along Foley Square and took the elevator up to Dawn's apartment in companionable silence.

"Is coffee okay?" Dawn asked when they crossed the threshold. "Or do you want something stronger? You can still have a drink."

"No, coffee's good," Olivia assured her. "I'm off duty, but still…I promised myself I wouldn't depend on alcohol to make myself feel better or to help me forget." To her astonishment, she had told Dawn before she could censor herself. She's just too easy to talk to!

"Your mother?" It was more a statement than a question. Dawn seemed to know the answer intuitively.

Olivia nodded. "My mother, and a lot of good cops who ended up drunk every night to forget about the evil they had seen that day." She leaned against the doorframe and watched Dawn as she prepared coffee and tea.

The small, slender hands moved efficiently, giving the everyday activity of boiling water an easy grace.

When the gray-green eyes lifted and glanced at her questioningly, Olivia looked away and let her gaze wander around the rest of the apartment instead. She affectionately took in the methodically cluttered desk and the new children's painting that was pinned to the living room wall.

"When did you decide that you wanted to be a cop?" Dawn suddenly asked.

Olivia blew out a breath. She wasn't keen on playing the twenty-questions game with a shrink, but at the same time she found that she couldn't refuse to answer the questions of this particular psychologist. "I don't know…on some level, I think I always knew."

"You never considered other careers?" Dawn wanted to know.

"Not really, no."

Dawn stretched, reaching for the cookie box on the top shelf, and for a moment, the blouse that was stretched taut across the fit body distracted Olivia. "And you always planned to join Special Victims?"

Olivia forced her gaze away from Dawn. "I didn't plan it from the start; that's just the way it happened. Guess it's my fate, huh?" Her facial muscles began to hurt from the effort it took to keep them calm and expressionless. Normally, it wasn't too hard to talk about the way she had been conceived in an almost matter-of-fact way – it was something she had grown used to, and she had learned to keep a certain emotional distance. But somehow, staying emotionally uninvolved was difficult when she was dealing with Dawn Kinsley.

Dawn's hands stilled on the cookie box, and she turned around. "If you were destined to work with rape survivors, it's because of your strength and compassion, not because you have anything to atone for. The sins of your father are his own, not yours."

Olivia swallowed helplessly. A whirlwind of thoughts was racing through her mind, and she didn't know what to say. "What about you?" she gave back the question when she couldn't stand the silence any longer. "Why did you become a psychologist instead of following family tradition and becoming a cop?"

"Well, I thought about it when I heard that there are some lesbians who have a thing for women in uniform," Dawn said with a grin. "No, seriously, I considered going into the 'family business' for a while. There are some things about being a cop that really appeal to me."

Olivia took a step forward and leaned against the kitchen cupboard. She didn't want to miss a word that Dawn said. "What things are those? Apart from the attention-getting uniform," she added with a smile.

"Helping people; protecting people…" Dawn shrugged. "But I learned very quickly that 'protecting and serving' is not really the main focus of police work. Investigations and legal proceedings are about the perpetrators, not about the victims."

"So you became a psychologist," Olivia concluded, "and you love your job."

Dawn poured hot water into the mug with her tea bag. "Some days I want to chuck everything and move to the Bahamas, but overall, yes, I love my job, even if it's not a chick-magnet like yours."

Olivia reached for the tray before Dawn could, and carried it into the living room. It surprised her how at home she already felt in the cozy apartment. "How did your parents react to your career choice?"

Dawn shovelled sugar into her tea and stirred thoughtfully. "My dad died before I had my degree, but he always was very supportive of me."

"And your mom?" Olivia found herself wanting to know all the details of Dawn's life, even if she was reluctant to reveal personal information about herself.

"My mom was relieved when I chose not to attend the police academy. She almost burst with pride when I got my PhD. I think she called me 'doctor' for a week." Dawn chuckled aound a mouthful of cookie.

Olivia laughed, too. She was glad that Dawn had a parent who was not reluctant to show her love and pride.

"At first, she wasn't too keen on my idea to specialize in counselling rape survivors. She wanted me to go into family therapy, or any other field of work where I wouldn't be confronted with all the violence and the crimes that my dad and Aidan had to deal with on a daily basis," Dawn continued.

Olivia shrugged. "She wants to protect you from the ugliness of the world; that's what mothers do."

Dawn studied her over the rim of her mug. "Did yours?"

"Sometimes."

Dawn didn't pressure her to explain, but Olivia felt it wasn't fair to pump Dawn for information about her family, and then give her one-word answers in return. "There were times when she just wanted to forget everything that had happened to her, including me," she told Dawn, closing her hands tighter around her mug without drinking. There was already a bitter taste in her mouth, even without coffee. "When she was drunk, she didn't care about other people."

Dawn took the unused mug out of Olivia's grip and replaced it with her own hand. She silently squeezed Olivia's fingers.

Not wanting to be pitied, Olivia squared her shoulders but did not dare to break the connection between their hands. "She did care when she wasn't drunk," she belatedly defended her mother. "She was proud when I became a police officer, but she hated that I joined Special Victims. At least once a week, she begged me to transfer to homicide, narcotics or any other unit."

Dawn closed her other hand around Olivia's and looked down at their tangled fingers. "She hated it because she knew it had the potential to hurt you. But I'm sure she loved you for doing it anyway."

Olivia's gaze followed Dawn's, taking in the contrast of Dawn's fairer, smaller fingers against her own. She noticed that her thumb had been drawing circles over the back of Dawn's palm again; she wasn't sure if the gesture was meant to sooth Dawn or herself.

The pager that suddenly went off on her hip made her jerk back from Dawn. Quickly, as if she had been caught doing something forbidden, she disentangled their fingers and grabbed her pager to look at its display. "It's Alex," she announced. "The jury's back."

Part 14

TRIAL PART 74

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 19

Dawn nervously took her seat next to Olivia. She clenched her hands around the edge of the seat and leaned towards the detective. "They didn't take long to reach a verdict, did they? Is that a good or a bad sign?"

"Let's hope it means that they saw right through Ballard's feeble defense," Olivia said with an encouraging nod.

Dawn felt her already tense body stiffen even more when Garett Ballard turned in his seat to stare at her. She looked away and directed her gaze toward Alex Cabot, who looked calm and secure behind the prosecution's table, as if any verdict other than 'guilty on all counts' was not even a possibility. Once again, Dawn envied her cool confidence.

Judge Lena Petrovsky settled her black robe around herself on the bench and looked down at the jurors. "Has the jury reached a verdict?"

The jury foreman stood. "We have, Your Honor."

Dawn watched anxiously as the bailiff walked a folded piece of paper over to the judge, who read it and then handed it back. Petrovsky's expression revealed nothing. "Will the defendant please rise."

Garett Ballard and his attorney stood up.

"On the first count of the indictment, the charge of criminal possession of a weapon in the fourth degree, how does the jury find?"

The jury foreman looked down at the piece of paper in his hand. "We, the jury, find the defendant guilty."

Dawn nodded stiffly. That was the easy one. Finding a weapon in his possession that he didn't have a permit for was all it took.

"On count two, possession of stolen property, how does the jury find?"

"We find the defendant guilty."

Another easy one, Dawn thought with growing tension.

"On count three, resisting arrest, how do you find?" Judge Lena Petrovsky asked in a voice that didn't betray any personal feelings.

"We find the defendant guilty," the foreman said again.

"On count four, assault on a police officer, how does the jury find?"

Dawn turned her head to look at Olivia, who sat with a neutral expression, as if she hadn't been the assaulted officer in question.

"We find the defendant guilty."

Dawn breathed a sigh of relief, but felt her muscles stiffen all the same. Her heart began to pound. The remaining charge was the only one that really mattered to her.

"Regarding three counts of rape in the first degree, what is your verdict?" Petrovsky asked.

The jury foreman cleared his throat. "We find the defendant…guilty."

Dawn's whole body had been on edge from the moment Olivia's pager had gone off, and now all the tension fled her body in a rush, leaving her with weak knees and a dizzy head. She numbly fell back against the back of her seat. She heard the bang of the gavel and Petrovsky's "This court is dismissed" as if from a huge distance.

"Hey." Olivia leaned over and looked down at her with concern. "You okay?"

Dawn exhaled shakily. "Yeah, I think so."

"It's over now," the detective assured her. "He's been found guilty, and he won't be out on the streets again for a long, long time. If I know Alex, she's going to push for the maximum."

Still a little numb, Dawn let herself be hugged by both her mother and Del, peering over their shoulders as a struggling and shouting Ballard was dragged from the room.

"We should celebrate that," Grace suggested.

Dawn nodded, even though she didn't feel like celebrating. She was glad that she, and every other woman in New York, would be safe from Ballard, but no punishment imposed on him could undo what he had done to her and the others.

"You and your partner are invited, of course," Grace told Olivia.

Dawn looked over at the prosecution table where Alex was calmly gathering her things. "Should we ask Miss Cabot if she wants to join us?"

Olivia's eyes widened into the classical 'deer-in-the-headlights'-look. For a moment, she appeared almost afraid to answer the simple question.

Dawn, well aware of Olivia's harmless infatuation with the A.D.A., could almost hear her panicked thoughts: Is this the point where I have to decide between a possible relationship with Dawn, that would not be easy, and the safe admiration for Alex?

"It's a simple, honest question, no trap, no encrypted message, no ulterior motive. I just want to know if you think Alex would be interested in joining us for a drink," Dawn told her.

"You're the mind-reader, not me. Why don't you decide for yourself if she wants to accompany us or not?" Olivia suggested with a smile.

Dawn slowly walked across the courtroom. She stopped right in front of the prosecution's table and waited until Alex looked up. "Hi," she began. To her surprise, she found herself a little shy now that she was facing the object of Olivia's infatuation. Alexandra Cabot was beautiful, confident, and secure; the way only a person whose feeling of personal safety had never been violated could be. Dawn knew she could never hope to match up to that in Olivia's eyes. "My family is planning to go out and celebrate. Would you like to join us?"

Alex snapped her briefcase shut and started to politely shake her head.

"Oh, come on, Counselor!" Elliot Stabler shouted from the gallery. "Live a little!"

The A.D.A. hesitated and glanced down at her watch.

"Come with us, Alex," Olivia said from behind Dawn, "it's too late to get any real work done anyway."

"All right." Alex shouldered her briefcase like a soldier would his rifle. "But remember: I'm a woman with expensive tastes," she warned them with a smile.

Olivia, who appeared utterly content now that she was flanked by Dawn on one side and Alex on the other side, just laughed. "Who said this was an all-expenses-paid invitation?"

MULLIGAN'S

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 19

I should have known we would end up in some cop bar, Alex thought with a wry smile. Being surrounded by beer-drinking, laughing, boasting cops didn't bother her in the least. She knew exactly what horrors they had to face everyday. She knew that for each time they went out for a celebration drink, there were at least two other times that they sat here staring broodingly into their beer glasses, seeking comfort from each others' presence.

Alex contentedly sipped her wine and leaned back in her chair at the head of the table. Over the rim of her glass, she watched her companions.

Mrs. Kinsley was visibly relieved to have left the trial behind her; she laughed cheerfully at the story Elliot was telling about his twins.

Her silent friend, the intriguing Lieutenant Vasquez, smiled too, but half her attention remained on Dawn. As a police officer, she was much more aware that winning the trial didn't automatically stop the torment the victims had to go through.

Alex followed her gaze and studied Dawn. Her key witness was deep in conversation with Olivia, their heads bent closely together because of the loudness of their surroundings.

Now that's interesting! Alex raised her brows. Everyone else at the table would probably think nothing of it, but years of examining witnesses on the stand and watching suspects through the one-way mirror had honed Alex's skills of observation. In addition, she knew Olivia's body language. Like most cops, Olivia preferred to keep a certain distance between herself and whoever she was talking to – unless she happened to be attracted to her conversation partner. That was what had ultimately tipped Alex off about Olivia's possible feelings for her.

Olivia and Dawn weren't touching, and the topic of their conversation was probably just small talk, but Alex could feel a connection between them anyway. Something was developing between them, something more than just the relationship of a victim and the detective working her case. Well, well…Alex took another sip of her wine. I reckon I'll have to do without the company of one Detective Olivia Benson in the courtroom during her lunch breaks from now on!

She had long since suspected that Olivia was not immune to the charm of an attractive woman, and Dawn Kinsley was both charming and attractive. Away from the tense atmosphere of the courtroom and the presence of her rapist, Dawn's smile was warm and genuine and the wine had lent a little color to her pale cheeks.

Alex noted with mixed feelings how her gray-green eyes shone when the psychologist looked at Olivia. She wasn't jealous, nor did she view herself as being particularly close-minded. Despite her awareness of Olivia's admiring gazes, she had never really considered a relationship with her or any other woman. Work had always come first, but you couldn't be a Cabot and not be even a little regretful to lose the flattering attention of an admirer.

Alex's thoughts, and the conversation between Dawn and Olivia, were interrupted when one of the men who'd sat drinking at the bar tapped Dawn on the shoulder. "Hey, beautiful lady. How about a dance?" He offered her his none-too-steady hand.

Dawn looked over her shoulder towards the dance floor, which was the general size of a postage stamp. No one was dancing. "No, thank you," she declined politely.

"A game of pool, then?" the man offered, nodding at the pool tables.

"No, thanks," Dawn said again.

Her admirer wouldn't take no for an answer. "Oh, come on, just one—"

A low growl from Olivia interrupted him. She pressed tense hands against the table and started to rise.

On the edge of her vision, Alex could see that Del had taken up a similar position.

Dawn's fingers on her forearm held Olivia back. Their gazes crossed for a second, and Dawn shook her head almost imperceptibly. "I can handle it, thanks," Alex heard her whisper.

To Alex's surprise, the protective Olivia obediently sank back onto her chair without any protests.

Dawn turned towards the waiting man. Alex could see that she had to force herself to hold his stare without flinching back from the smell of beer on his breath. "I'm here with my friends and my family, so I don't want to dance with you, play pool with you or do anything else with you, okay?" Her voice was soft, but firm.

For a second, the man stood frozen as if he couldn't believe that he had been shot down, until one of his buddies called from the bar: "C'mere, and leave her alone, Sim. I know these guys; they're with the 1-6."

While the half-drunk man stumbled back to his friends, Alex watched Olivia squeeze Dawn's now trembling fingers under the table.

It was her first confrontation with a man after her rape, Alex suddenly understood. She wanted…needed to prove to herself, and to Olivia, that she could handle it on her own, without the help of her knight with the shining badge. Olivia, my friend, I think you've found your match! Alex raised her wine glass in a silent toast to the courageous woman.

MULLIGAN'S

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 19

In over twenty years on the job, Del had seen a lot of cases that never went to trial or were lost by a helpless A.D.A. for lack of evidence. She had dealt with victims who hadn't been able to identify their attacker, but couldn't understand why he was acquitted, more times than she could count. Her relief at not having to deal with any of those things in Dawn's case was profound.

They had won, and Del fully intended to buy the victorious A.D.A. a beer or two. She turned to look at Alex Cabot and found her talking and laughing with Benson.

"And to think that you managed to win in Petrovsky's court without her holding you in contempt! Not even once!" the detective teased, obviously familiar with Alex and her courtroom experiences.

"Being held in contempt is not half as bad as losing the keys to your handcuffs," Alex answered haughtily, but a small, playful wink took the sting from her words.

"I didn't lose them," Benson protested, "I just said that to scare the perp into confessing."

Alex gave her a sarcastic nod. "Oh, yes, of course."

"Yes," Benson insisted. "That's my story, and I'm sticking to it."

"Uh huh. And do you lose the keys to your handcuffs very often, Detective?"

Del leaned back and watched them. Are they flirting? The A.D.A. and the detective were obviously at ease with each other, and Del wondered if Benson's reaction to her request to be 'hooked up' with Alex Cabot had held a hint of jealousy. I certainly couldn't blame her…Cabot's a looker, and she pulls that arrogant no-nonsense attitude off better than any other woman I know. If even an old warhorse like me is impressed, there's no way in hell that Benson could be left cold…but where does that leave my little grasshopper?

She turned her head to look at Dawn, who sat silently staring into her wine glass, not attempting to interrupt or get involved in the conversation between Benson and the A.D.A. She didn't try to redirect Benson's attention back to herself.

Dawn looked up, as if sensing Del's gaze on her, and smiled.

Del raised a questioning brow. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Dawn assured her.

Del looked back at Cabot and Benson, who were still teasing and laughing. I bet you're not fine with that! Having known Dawn for almost all her life, she had sensed Dawn's interest in the detective from the start, but she knew that Dawn didn't feel in a position to pursue a relationship with her just yet. I just hope she doesn't waste her trust and feelings on a person who's not really available!

"Dawn…," Del started. She had never interfered with any of Dawn's relationships before, even when she'd known from the start that neither Caleb Montgomery nor Maggie Forsythe had been right for her. Now though, Dawn was so vulnerable that she couldn't help but try to warn her. "Are you really sure that Benson is…available for a relationship?"

Dawn leaned over the table, making sure that no one could overhear them in the loud bar. "I'm not even sure if I'm available for a relationship just yet," she answered honestly. "For now, I just want to be her friend."

For now, yes. But will Benson have the patience to wait until you're ready for more, when she could have a woman like Alex Cabot right now? Del rubbed her chin and watched Benson interact with the A.D.A. again. "But—"

"Stop worrying about me, Del," Dawn said with her trademark kind smile.

"I can't," Del confessed. "It's my job to worry about you; I inherited it from your dad."

Dawn reached across the table and patted her hand. "And you do a great job, really. But in this case, it's not necessary. I'm well aware that Olivia likes Miss Cabot."

Del eyed the A.D.A.'s elegant lips, her aristocratic nose, and the slender legs. "Well, what's not to like?" she muttered.

"I thought you had a thing for Latinas?" A teasing grin made the gray-green eyes sparkle.

Del's lips echoed the smile. "I'd make an exception for her." Dawn's laugh warmed her heart, and she watched as Benson turned her head at the sound of her laughter. The detective's eyes searched out Dawn's face, and she grinned when she saw the smile on it.

When Benson turned back to her own conversation, Dawn leaned towards Del again. "Olivia likes Alex; she admires her, but I don't think that she would want to start a relationship with her. It's more like one of those worshipping from afar things – safe because you know that it will never become reality. Besides, Alexandra Cabot doesn't swing that way."

"Ah." Del waved dismissively, but in her mind she wasn't so sure. The A.D.A may have never 'swung that way' in the past, but she didn't strike Del as the type to vehemently oppose the possibility. "When you start to sound like a shrink, I know it's complicated."

Dawn laughed again. "There are some things that even the gold bar on your uniform couldn't change, hmm? You cops just love psychologists!"

Del grinned. Let's hope that a particular one of us will learn to!

SPECIAL VICTIMS UNIT

SQUAD ROOM

FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 23

"Good God!" Olivia groaned as she bent down to peer at the report on her desk more closely. "Is that a 'g' or a 'b'?" She turned the file and threw it onto the desk in front of hers.

Elliot studied the words for a while. "Hmm…could be an eight, too. Maybe even an 'h'." He threw the file back to Olivia.

Frustrated, she gathered her files and emptied her cup of coffee.

Fin looked up from his own work when she stood. "You're not goin' to jump from the roof because you can't read the memo the Cap tacked onto your last report, are you?"

Olivia snorted. "Hardly. I think I'll go down and try to find someone from the hieroglyphics department to help me read this!"

"Well, I have this theory." Munch ignored the groans of his colleagues at the word 'theory'. "It's not a coincidence that the guys with the sloppiest handwriting always get promoted fastest; it's just because no one wants to spend hours trying to decipher their reports anymore."

"I'm sure the captain would be very happy to hear what you think about the qualifications that got him his job," Olivia commented dryly.

Elliot leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms behind his head. "You going to pay our friends from ballistics a visit?"

Moving towards the double doors, Olivia nodded. "We won't get any further on Powell until the lab confirms a ballistic match."

"Could you bring me back a salad?" Elliot asked.

"Sure." As Olivia left, she heard the other detectives tease him about being put on diet by his wife. At least he's got someone who cares about his health. Olivia had dedicated her life to her job. It was the one thing that she could really be proud of; the only time she felt good about herself without reservation. But still there were times when she realized that maybe there was more to life than the job. Elliot had a beautiful wife and four kids; Fin had a son he could be proud of, and even Munch had three or four ex-wives – Olivia had lost count a long time ago – to pay alimony to. Olivia was the only one who didn't have a bond with any living human being. Thinking about significant others, relationships, and her lack thereof conjured up a mental picture of Dawn, and Olivia violently shook her head to chase away these thoughts.

A few minutes later, she flashed her badge and entered the police headquarters building at One Police Plaza. She strode past the bronze statue depicting a police officer standing protectively next to a young boy – and stopped abruptly. There, at the other end of the lobby, stood a woman who resembled Dawn. Oh, great! Now everyone you see reminds you of her! Cut it out, right this instant!

Try as she might, she couldn't help herself. Her gaze wandered back to the Dawn look-alike, who had her back to her. She had the same long, blonde hair; the same petite, lithe body…

Before she could stop herself, Olivia had crossed the lobby. "Dawn?"

The woman whirled around. It was Dawn Kinsley. A smile lit up her features when she saw Olivia. "Hi! What are you doing here?"

Olivia held up the file in her hands. "Um…just checking something with the ballistics lab. You?"

Dawn bit her lip. "Visiting my dad." She smiled sadly and touched one of the names on the Memorial Wall. James Kinsley. "I always come here on his birthday. I think he'd like it better than me going to visit his grave."

Olivia watched her lovingly trace every letter on her father's plaque, one of more than 750 that represented New York City police officers who had been killed in the line of duty. She watched the emotions play across Dawn's face. She could almost feel the connection between Dawn and her dead father, and it was painful to realize that she would never share a similar bond with either of her parents.

"Sorry," she mumbled, taking a respectful step back, "I didn't mean to interrupt…"

"You didn't." Dawn stopped her retreat with a touch on Olivia's arm.

Olivia studied her. Dawn's face, illuminated by the lights over the Memorial Wall, was pale; her eyes were red-rimmed from crying or from lack of sleep; and a few errant strands of hair had escaped her ponytail and hung stubbornly into her face. Olivia found her beautiful nonetheless. Maybe it's some kind of withdrawal symptoms, she thought wryly.

She hadn't seen Dawn or heard from her since the trial had ended – not because she hadn't wanted to, but because she was unsure how to behave around Dawn now that the familiar role of detective had been taken away. "How are you?" she finally asked, lacking another topic to talk about.

"Getting there." Dawn nodded almost to herself. "And how are you?"

Olivia grinned. "Same as always – up to my neck in cases."

"No vacation in sight, huh?"

"Vacation?" Olivia playfully scratched her head. "Hmmm...that sounds familiar. What was that again?"

Dawn smiled ruefully. "I think it's the very thing I'm getting too much of right now. It's getting really boring to sit at home and do nothing, but I'm still not up to going back to work with rape victims."

Olivia nodded understandingly. She's got too much time on her hands, huh? This could be my chance to ask her out… She hesitated. I don't think she's ready to date anyone, least of all a woman who has as much baggage as I have. And I'm not even sure that I'm ready to be in a relationship.

She was still debating with herself and trying to work up enough courage to ask Dawn out, when two detectives ruined the moment by greeting her. The sight of her colleagues reminded her that she still had work to do and was not there to arrange dates. "Well, I think I'd better go…" She held up the file.

Dawn said nothing, she just looked at her.

For a moment, they both stood in silence. Finally, it was Dawn who spoke first: "Yes, I'll head home now, too."

Olivia nodded, unusually tongue-tied.

"See you." Dawn waited for a few seconds, but when Olivia just returned the goodbyes, she turned and strolled towards the lobby's exit.

Disappointed and irritated with herself, Olivia watched walk away. Dawn had almost reached the door when Olivia finally moved. "Dawn! Wait!" She jogged down the hall to catch up with her. When she stopped in front of the waiting psychologist, she nervously licked her lips. "Do you…do you want to do something this weekend?"

Dawn studied her. "You mean…go out on a date?"

"I'd like that, yes." Olivia held her gaze. "There's this French restaurant Alex told me about…so?"

Half a dozen different emotions flickered across Dawn's face too fast for Olivia to identify them all. Was there…disappointment? "It's really nice of you to ask, and normally I'd love to, but…I can't."

"Oh, that's okay; it was just a spontaneous thought," Olivia said, trying to act indifferent. I told you; going out with her is not a good idea; she's not ready…or interested! That didn't prevent her from feeling disappointed though. "Well, I guess I'll see you around." She turned, clenching her hands around the file as she strode away.

"Wait!" This time it was Dawn who was running to catch up with her. "It's not that I don't want to go out…go to this restaurant with you, it's just…"

Olivia stopped and looked down at her. "You don't have to explain." Accepting a simple 'no' from any woman under any circumstances was the most important rule in Olivia's book.

Dawn threw her hands up. "Yes, yes, I do. I want you to know the truth," she insisted.

"Okay. I'm listening."

"I'm still not working and…" Dawn looked down at the marbled floor. "…money is getting a little tight; an expensive restaurant is just not within my budget right now."

Olivia stared at her for a moment, and then smiled in relief. "That's not a problem; I invited you, of course I'm going to pay."

"No." The psychologist vehemently shook her head. "I can't accept that."

Dismayed, Olivia crossed her arms across her chest. Her eyes narrowed. "So, you're not going to go out with me because you're too proud?" She couldn't believe it. It seemed a very childish reason compared to the psychologist's normally mature behavior.

Dawn didn't waver under Olivia's stare. "This has nothing to do with pride," she said. "Okay, maybe it has to do with pride, but that's just to a very small extent. This is about equality."

"Equality?" Olivia repeated.

"Equality," Dawn said with a decisive nod. "We met at a very low point of my life. Until now, you were the strong detective, and I was the helpless victim – and those are not roles we can build a friendship on, much less a relationship. I need to feel like I'm your equal, and we can't do that if we keep on adding other inequalities. I don't want to be a kept woman. Can you understand that?"

Olivia looked at her for a little longer. She had to admit that not many women had stood up to her like that. Even in her relationships with men, she had often been the dominant one, the one to make the decisions, to start and end the affair when she got bored with the weaker partner. "Yes," she finally said with a grudging respect. "Yes, I can. So, you're not going out with me?"

"Not used to rejections, are you?" Dawn teased instead of answering.

"It doesn't happen often, that's for sure," Olivia grumbled, intently studying the patterns of the marble under her feet.

Dawn smiled. "Listen, why don't we do something else instead?"

"You mean, instead of going out on a date?"

"Instead of going to an expensive restaurant," Dawn answered. "I don't need you to spend half your pay check to have a nice evening."

So, low-maintenance women really do exist. "Okay," she said, in a much better mood. "What do you suggest?"

"How about an afternoon of ice-skating?" Dawn suggested.

Ice-skating? Olivia doubtfully looked at the younger woman. Helplessly stumbling around at the edge of an ice-skating rink was not her idea of romance, and she didn't think that falling on your ass again and again was the best way to impress a woman. "You want to go ice-skating? With me?"

"Yeah!" Dawn confirmed enthusiastically. "It's fun, it's not that expensive, and it's not your usual first date activity, so it doesn't put as much pressure on us as a restaurant setting would."

Well, that sounds really reasonable, Olivia had to admit. "You're right, but…there's still one problem…um…I don't know how to ice-skate…"

Dawn looked at her incredulously. "You grew up in New York and have never been ice-skating at Rockefeller Center? That's a sacrilege! But fortunately, we can remedy it – I could teach you," she offered.

"Hmm…" Olivia scratched her nose.

Dawn laughed, her eyes twinkling with delight. "You're not scared, are you, Detective?" she teased. "Don't worry; I'll catch you when you fall."

Are we still talking about ice-skating? "Okay." She gave in with a sigh.

"Then it's a date?"

Olivia studied her. "Yes. That is…if you want it to be…" She was well aware that it might take Dawn more time to be ready to begin dating again. "Or do you want to invite your niece to go with us?" she offered in an effort to make Dawn feel more at ease. She loves to spend time with her niece, and maybe Dawn would be more comfortable if we have a chaperone.

Dawn blinked, clearly astonished and pleased that Olivia had thought to include a member of the family who meant so much to her. "It's nice of you to think of Jamie, but for now I want it to be just the two of us. Even a stellar teacher like me can't take on more than one pupil at a time," the psychologist joked.

"Okay. One ice-skating date; you're on." Olivia glanced down at her watch with regret. "I really do have to go now, before the bullets I want to have examined start to rust."

Dawn laughed. "Tomorrow, four p.m.?"

Olivia nodded without further hesitation. "I'll pick you up."

"Why don't I pick you up?" Dawn suggested, clearly in another attempt to establish equality.

"Because you drive a sardine tin, and I need to have two functioning legs if I want to attempt ice-skating," Olivia explained.

Dawn thought about it. "You can drive if I get to pay the admission at the ice-skating rink."

Olivia wondered if it would always be like this, and then decided that she would like a partner who could stand up to her for a change. "You drive a hard bargain, Doctor Kinsley!"

"Take it or leave it, Detective." Dawn held out her hand.

"Okay, okay, it's a deal." Olivia shook the offered hand. One last squeeze of her fingers, and then Olivia departed, rushing towards the ballistics lab. I think I'm gonna join Elliot and eat a salad today. I'll need the vitamins, if I want to keep up with Dawn Kinsley!

ROCKEFELLER CENTER

LOWER PLAZA

SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 24

"Is this size okay?" Dawn was kneeling in front of Olivia; both of them looking down at the rented skates covering the detective's feet.

"I think so."

"Okay, then let's get going." The ice rink was beginning to get crowded, and Dawn didn't want to risk a collision between other skaters and her inexperienced skating partner. She wanted this date to go as smooth as possible. She finished strapping on her own pair of ice-skates, stood and offered her hand to Olivia to help her up.

Holding onto Dawn's hands and forearms, Olivia hobbled the few feet to the shiny surface of the ice. She stopped at the very edge of the rink. "Okay, how do I do this?"

Dawn held back a smile. The detective was clearly uncomfortable at being confronted with something she had no experience in, in a domain not her own. The few dozen onlookers didn't help either. For Dawn, it was a perfect first-date situation after her rape – she was the one in control. "Hold onto my hand, distribute your weight evenly on both skates and just try to glide," Dawn instructed. "We're gonna stay near the rail on the outside, away from the more experienced skaters and the rowdies."

Dawn stepped onto the ice, easily keeping her balance because she had done it hundreds of times before. Olivia followed with more hesitation; one hand clenched around Dawn's, the other holding onto the railing around the rink.

Dawn guided her around the rink, patiently looking on as Olivia began a one-legged shuffle in her effort not to lose her tight grip on the railing. "Let go of the railing," she ordered after a while.

"I can't fall while I hold on," Olivia protested.

"Yeah, but you also can't skate that way," Dawn reminded. "You won't hurt yourself, even if you fall. Everyone falls."

Olivia still held onto the bar. "I don't see anyone in danger of falling, except for me."

Dawn laughed. "That's because you keep looking at your feet. You can't see anyone else and you can't keep your balance this way; so keep your head up. Trust me, I won't let you fall." Dawn knew that it was difficult for Olivia to give up control.

Millimeter by millimeter, Olivia loosened her grip on the railing and lifted her head while her other hand clenched tighter around Dawn's.

"Yes, that's it!" Dawn encouraged even as Olivia started slipping and sliding around the ice. "You're doing great! Now turn one foot sideways and use it to propel you forward on the other foot. Don't be afraid to take your foot off the ice."

Slowly, they made their way around the rink; once and then twice. "Want to try on your own?"

Olivia's gloved hand hesitantly let go of Dawn's. Dawn watched proudly as her pupil cautiously skated away from her. She did well enough until, out of the corner of her eyes, she detected two pre-teens who where doing effortless spins right next to her.

Afraid of a collision, Olivia leaned to one side to correct her course and skate around them, but she overcompensated and fell.

Dawn dug the edge of one blade into the ice and raced towards her, stopping in a tight spiral right next to her fallen skating buddy. "Hey, you okay?"

Olivia looked up at her. "Yeah. I fell on my butt. The only thing hurt is my pride."

"Want to try again?" Dawn asked hesitantly. She loved ice-skating, but she knew that some people could never get up any real enthusiasm for it. She didn't want to force her hobby onto Olivia, if she really didn't like it.

"You bet!" Olivia got to her feet with determination.

A few rounds and three falls later, Olivia was gliding over the ice with much more grace and had even tried a few spins. Dawn was skating backwards next to her, so she could keep an eye on Olivia. The detective's cheeks were red from the cold, her short hair was dishevelled and covered with a few snowflakes, and her eyes were sparkling.

She was a little out of breath when they finally stopped, leaning next to each other against the railing in front of the golden Prometheus statue. The cold started catching up with them now that they had stopped moving, and the ice-skating rink had gotten crowded – this was not the time, or the place, to hold a lengthy conversation.

Both a little reluctant to end their afternoon, they changed into their shoes and trudged through the freshly fallen snow towards Olivia's car. "Come in for a minute to warm yourself up," Dawn invited when they reached her apartment building.

She noticed with satisfaction that Olivia followed her up and sank onto the couch without much hesitation. Groaning, the detective stretched her legs and waggled her feet. "I think it'll take a while to get my land legs back."

"I hope you still had fun despite a few rather unfriendly encounters with the surface of the ice?" Dawn said when she pressed a cup of coffee into Olivia's cold hands.

"I had a lot of fun," Olivia answered, meaning it. "Well," she added with a smile, "maybe not as much fun as all those pre-schoolers had, watching me hobble around the ice like a drunken penguin and fall on my ass while they did effortless pirouettes all around me."

Dawn laughed. "That's the advantage of youth, Detective."

Olivia set down her mug and studied her for a moment. "Why don't you call me by my first name?" she suggested something that Dawn had been waiting for since the trial had ended. "You can't call someone who spent an entire afternoon humiliating herself in your company by an honorful title like Detective."

"Okay, Olivia." The name felt a little strange as it came over her lips, even if Dawn had already called her that in her mind for a while. "And for your information, you weren't that bad, and you certainly didn't humiliate yourself."

"Well, I won't give up my dayjob to train for the Olympics either, that's for sure." Olivia chuckled. "But it was fun and…I'd like to do it again."

Dawn shifted forward onto the edge of her seat. She had a hard time holding back her delighted grin. They both knew that Olivia wasn't just talking about ice-skating. Guess I didn't scare her off, huh? "I'd like that, too."

Olivia swallowed her last sip of coffee. Now that their mutual interest had been established, she retreated. "I'd better go now; the snow's still falling."

"Drive carefully," Dawn said, following her to the door.

Olivia nodded. "I always do." She reached behind herself to open the door, but still faced Dawn.

Dawn felt her hesitate, both of them a little unsure about what a proper goodbye between them should be. Dawn had liked the necessity of holding Olivia's hand during her ice-skating lessons, but no further touches had been exchanged. She felt her body stiffen without conscious thought as Olivia leaned down, suddenly sure that she was not ready for anything more than a quick peck on the cheek. Her worries eased when Olivia made no attempt to kiss her, but enclosed her in a quick, but warm embrace.

"Thanks for the lesson, and the company," Olivia said when she stepped back.

"You're welcome."

Dawn stood by the door long after it had closed behind Olivia.

Part 15

APARTMENT OF

OLIVIA BENSON

117 EAST 82ND STREET

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 1

Olivia circled the coffee table where her telephone lay for the third time. Finally she sat down on the couch and studied the device as if she could make it ring just by looking at it. No such luck. Should I call her or do I wait until she calls me? Will she call me or does she expect me to? If I call too soon, she'll think I'm clinging, smothering her. If I call too late, she'll think I don't care… Olivia groaned. God, I really hate this dating stuff! It's more complicated than understanding the science behind PCR and STR-testing!

It had been a week since their ice-skating adventure – Olivia still wasn't sure if she should call it a date – and she hadn't heard from Dawn since then.

After another minute of internal debating, Olivia gave herself a mental slap and reached for the phone. She almost dropped the cordless phone when it suddenly began to ring in her hand. Jesus! She fumbled for a bit until she found the right button. "Benson."

"Hi, it's Dawn." A short silence on the other end. "You sound a little breathless, did I interrupt anything?"

"Dawn! Hi! No, no, you're not interrupting anything. I was just about to call you!" Great! That sounds like the lamest excuse in the history of dating, even if it is the truth!

"Yeah?"

Olivia curled her legs under her. "Yes. I wanted to hear how your week is going."

"It's been great so far!" Dawn announced with enthusiasm. "I met an old friend from college. She's a child psychologist and a family therapist, and she suggested that I work as her co-therapist for a while. I'd mainly work with kids, and with teens and young adults who have trouble coming to terms with their sexual orientation."

"Sounds wonderful!" Olivia was glad. She knew that going back to work would be another step towards healing for Dawn. "Do you think you'll do it?"

"Yes, I will. Working with kids is something I always wanted to try. Maybe I'll go back to working with rape survivors in a few months, but for now, working with kids will pay the bills, and it'll give me a chance to expand my professional horizon. How's your week been?" Dawn asked.

Three dead bodies, two brutal rapes, and a five year old who's been molested by her own father, but I don't think you need to hear that. "Oh, the usual…a lot of paperwork, a few search warrants, and a suspect who puked all over my shoes."

"Ruined shoes? Then the suggestion I have comes at just the right time," Dawn said with palpable satisfaction.

Olivia leaned back. "What suggestion is that?"

"Go shopping with me today."

Olivia scratched the back of her neck. She had been looking forward to spending the day with Dawn, but shopping…?

"You already have other plans," Dawn concluded when Olivia failed to answer. The disappointment was clear in her voice.

"No! No, that's not it, it's just…well, I'm not exactly New York's shopping queen." She looked down at her blue jeans and the tight fitting T-shirt. "It's not that I don't like fashion; I do, but I don't really have the patience for marathon shopping sprees. Before I'm even through the first clothing store I always begin to wish that I had my service weapon with me to clear the crowd – or at least to put me out of my misery."

Dawn laughed. "Oh, now I understand! You're shopaphobic!"

Olivia chuckled into the receiver. "If that's your professional diagnosis…"

"It is," Dawn agreed gravely. "And it sounds like a severe case."

"Do you intend to cure my shopaphobia, Doctor?" Olivia smiled to herself.

"Of course," Dawn said with mock seriousness. "Letting a disorder like that go untreated is against professional ethics, not to mention bad for our city's economy."

"So, what's on the treatment plan?"

"I'd suggest you join a self-help group, but I fear you won't find another woman who hates shopping in the whole city, so I think I'll try confrontation therapy with you," Dawn decided.

Olivia lay back on the couch, taking the phone with her. "Confrontation therapy? What exactly does that entail?"

"The patient is confronted with the phobic stimulus until the fear disappears," Dawn explained, sounding like a textbook, but then added, "Or, in your case, until we reach the limit of your credit card; whichever comes first."

Olivia laughed.

"Come on, say yes; I'll even throw in an added incentive: You help me find the perfect dress for my cousin's wedding, and I'll help you pick out the rest of your Christmas presents that you haven't bought yet."

"The rest?" Olivia repeated with a laugh. "In sight of that generous offer, I should probably tell you that I haven't bought any Christmas presents yet."

"Not even one?" That concept was clearly foreign to Dawn.

"Let me guess: You're one of those people who start looking for Christmas presents in September." Christmas had never been big in the Benson household, and since her mother's death, Olivia had only bought small gifts for Elliot and his family.

"No – I start looking in January."

Olivia smiled. She could see Dawn doing that. The psychologist was clearly a person who loved to give presents to other people. "Okay, when and where does my first therapy session start?"

"Right now?"

Olivia didn't hesitate. "Okay. Should I come pick you up?" She fully expected the offer to be rebuffed.

"I won't say no to that, this time," Dawn said to her surprise. "We're gonna need the bigger trunk of your car."

SIXTH AVENUE

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 1

"Want me to carry some of that?" Dawn nodded down at the shopping bags Olivia held in both hands.

Olivia grinned. "No, that's okay." She knew that the offer would be short-lived, anyway. All it would take was one more store and Dawn would pass the bags back to her because she'd need both hands to examine the goods on sale.

On their way to the exit, they passed the art and handicraft supplies section of the department store. Olivia kept her eyes on Dawn and, as she had expected, saw that Dawn looked back over her shoulder as they walked past. This was the third set of art supplies at which Dawn had thrown longing glances, and then quickly walked on with one last, regretful look at the price tag. "Is that a hobby of yours? Painting and drawing?" Olivia asked, making a mental note to go back later and buy them for Dawn as a Christmas present.

"Yes, it is…or rather it used to be," Dawn answered. "I haven't picked up a pencil or a brush since…the rape."

The word was like an electric shock to Olivia's system. She had to force herself not to jerk, not wanting Dawn to think that she had anything to be ashamed of. Sometimes it was hard to remember that Dawn had been raped just two months ago, because most of the time she seemed so carefree and full of life. Olivia suspected that Dawn tended to share her harder moments only with herself.

"Is the shopping anxiety already easing up some?" Dawn asked when they left the store. They strolled side by side down the street.

"Well, Doc, all these heavy shopping bags have successfully held my flight reflex in check; that's for sure," Olivia said with a grin. To be honest, their shopping spree had been surprisingly painless for her. She hadn't felt the urge to turn around and head home like she usually did. From time to time, a crowded store would get to be too much for Dawn, who still couldn't stand to be bumped and jostled from all sides by strangers, and she would hold onto Olivia's arm until they reached the closest exit. Olivia found that she didn't mind those moments of closeness at all.

"That's good, because we still haven't found a dress for me." Dawn directed them into yet another clothing store. Strolling along the racks, she found two dresses that she liked and that had a reasonable price. "I think I'll try these on."

Olivia didn't want to be left standing in the middle of the store, where the saleswomen would undoubtedly try to talk her into buying something, so she followed Dawn into the general direction of the dressing rooms.

With a small smile, Dawn closed the curtain between them.

Olivia waited with her back to the dressing room, so she could give Dawn some added privacy. She could also observe the other shoppers and direct anyone who was heading for the small room to another, unoccupied cubicle.

"Olivia?" Dawn's voice from behind the curtain made Olivia turn around.

"Yes?"

"It seems I've lost a little weight… Could you please bring me the blue dress one size smaller?"

"Sure, I'll be right back." Within a minute, Olivia returned to the cubicle with the smaller dress. She lifted her hand, and then hesitated. She wasn't sure if Dawn would be comfortable with being seen half-naked, and she didn't want to push things. "Uh…Dawn? Here's the dress you wanted…"

The curtain moved back a little, and Olivia averted her eyes, while she handed Dawn the new dress and received the bigger one in exchange. She waited patiently until Dawn opened the curtain again. She had never seen Dawn in a dress before and couldn't help but stare. "Wow, Dawn, that's…" Olivia gesticulated, searching for a fitting adjective and finding none that could convey how she felt.

Dawn checked out her image in the full-length mirror and tugged at the hem of the dress that ended slightly above her knees. "You don't think it's a little too tight, or maybe a bit too short?" She eyed herself critically.

"No! It's really nice. It brings out the green of your eyes." The color of her eyes was not the only attribute that the dress accentuated nicely, but Olivia didn't think that she should comment on that.

Dawn was still looking down her own body, when a woman ambled up to them. For a moment Olivia thought that it was the saleswoman wanting to encourage Dawn to buy the dress, but then the woman addressed her, not Dawn. "Well, well, well…if it isn't Olivia Benson out and about with her…girlfriend! How domestic!" The stranger eyed Dawn with contempt. "And here I thought you didn't do relationships!"

God, please, not now! Olivia groaned internally. She had picked up the blonde in a bar a few months ago and had promptly forgotten her the next day. Unfortunately, it was apparent that the woman whose name she couldn't remember hadn't forgotten her.

"Could you help me with the zipper, darling? You'll have to excuse her for a second; she's needed elsewhere," Dawn unexpectedly came to her rescue, directing a sweet smile at the blonde woman before she tugged Olivia into the dressing room with her.

Olivia sank down onto the small stool the second the curtain was closed behind them. "God, I'm so sorry, Dawn!" She rubbed her forehead where a dull throbbing had begun.

Dawn looked down at her. She didn't appear upset. "It's okay; we all have a past. I didn't expect you not to have had relationships before we started…whatever this is between us."

Olivia shook her head. "I haven't, not really."

"Huh?"

"I haven't been in a relationship for about five years, nothing long-term at least," Olivia admitted. "With my job and everything, it's easier to have one-night stands and short flings without the emotional entanglements."

When Dawn kept silent, Olivia looked up at her. The psychologist was nibbling on her lower lip. "Dawn?"

"I can't do that." Dawn sadly shook her head. "I was never one for one-night stands, and I'm sure as hell not up to it now."

Olivia had known that from the start. "Good, because that's not what I want from you."

Dawn's head lifted. She studied Olivia's face. "What do you want from me?"

For a moment, Olivia thought about answering with a joke that would lighten the mood, but then decided against it. Dawn needed her to be honest and express her feelings now, even if it was hard for her. "Well, I want to get to know you for a start…everything about you. Can we leave it at that for now?" There were still so many insecurities, and she wasn't ready to allow herself to commit yet.

Dawn nodded; her eyes and lips smiling once again. "Now, unless you want to watch me change, you should go and try to get rid of your stalker."

Heat shot through Olivia's cheeks at the thought of watching Dawn change. She was sure that she hadn't blushed so much since puberty. She quickly turned to go. "Okay, I should probably go and tell her that my 'girlfriend' has anger issues, and she tends to take them out on my former…uh…romantic interests."

When Dawn left the dressing room, Olivia stood alone; her 'former romantic interest' had disappeared. "I'll take the blue one," Dawn announced, waving Olivia towards the check desk. "March on, Sherpa."

Half an hour later saw Olivia navigating her car through heavy traffic. "Home now, or did you already think up another torture for me?" she asked with a quick glance to Dawn.

The psychologist laughed. "No further tortures…for now," she promised. "But we should drop most of these bags off at my mother's; otherwise Jamie will find her presents when she stays at my apartment. That girl is like a gift-seeking missile!"

Dawn unlocked the door of her mother's apartment, while Olivia waited behind her, balancing half a dozen shopping bags in her arms. Olivia stopped in the doorway, when she saw Grace coming out of the kitchen. She wasn't sure how Dawn's mother would react to her continued presence in her daughter's life, now that the case was resolved and she lacked an official reason for keeping in contact with her.

"What's all this?" Grace pointed to the bags and parcels both of them were carrying. "Are you moving back in?"

Dawn laughed. "No. I went out to buy a dress for Brian's wedding, and a few more Christmas presents, and I managed to con Olivia into helping me."

Olivia saw Grace's eyebrows arch at the use of her first name. "That was nice of you, Detective," Grace said, her tone carefully neutral.

Detective, huh? Olivia repeated. I guess she doesn't want me to be just 'Olivia' to her daughter.

"Are you staying for dinner?" Grace asked, mainly in Dawn's direction. "It's almost ready."

"Yes!" Dawn enthusiastically set her bags down and moved to take Olivia's from her. "I'm starving! You'll stay, too, won't you?"

Grace nodded. "You're welcome to eat with us," she offered with a little more warmth than before, now that she had recovered from her surprise at seeing Olivia in her home again.

Olivia shook her head. She wasn't ready to deal with Dawn's mother yet, especially since she wasn't sure exactly where she stood with her. "I think I'll head home now. I still have a few reports to go through…" Suddenly, she remembered that running off now would leave Dawn stranded at her mother's. "Should I come back later to drive you home?"

"No, that's okay," Dawn assured her. "If I can still move after the tons of dinner I intend to consume, I'll wrap the Christmas presents and just stay here tonight. If you don't have other plans, maybe you could pick me up tomorrow, and we could have breakfast, or brunch?"

Olivia looked forward to spending more time with Dawn, but felt awkward discussing their plans in front of Grace, so she just nodded mutely.

Dawn climbed over the shopping bags blocking her way and stepped closer to Olivia. She softly touched her forearm. "I had fun today."

"Me too," Olivia agreed, uncomfortably looking back and forth between Dawn and her mother. She did not dare to hug her under the watchful eyes of Grace Kinsley. "So, I'll see you tomorrow?"

Dawn nodded. "Tomorrow."

SPECIAL VICTIMS UNIT

SQUAD ROOM

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 7

With a satisfied sigh, Elliot let the last report of the day sail down into his outbox. "Hey Liv, want to come home with me?" he said across his desk.

"If this is your subtle way of trying to pick up a woman, it's been too long for you, Stabler," John Munch commented from his own desk.

Elliot grimaced, but ignored him and continued to look at his partner, who was still bent over her work. "The kids told me to ask you. Kathy is trying out a new recipe, and they don't want to suffer through it alone." He grinned invitingly. "So? You'll come?"

Olivia sat back and looked at him. "As promising as that sounds, I can't."

"You're not on call, are you?"

"No." Olivia signed her report and threw it into the outbox on her desk. "I have…previous plans."

Elliot felt his eyebrows climb upwards. This was the third time in the last two weeks that he'd heard that particular answer when he had asked his bachelor partner to join him for a drink or family dinner. "Do these plans include anyone I know?" he asked, studying her face.

"Perhaps."

It was clear to Elliot that she didn't want to lie to him, but was equally uncomfortable discussing it. He would respect that. For now.

Munch knew no such restraint. "Please tell me it's not that mama's boy from the public defender's office that's been sniffing around you for the last few months!"

"C'mon, get serious!" His partner Fin rolled his eyes. "She's got better taste than you!"

Munch combed back his gray peppered hair. "I'll have you know that—"

"Cool down, guys!" Olivia ordered. "And please find something else to discuss other than my private life!"

The simple fact that Olivia even had a private life was amazing enough to Elliot, but he kept quiet and trusted that his partner would confide in him when she was ready to.

APARTMENT OF

DAWN KINSLEY

7 BENSON STREET

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 15

The shrill ringing of her phone made Dawn almost fall from the couch. In her haste to reach the phone before it stopped ringing, she stumbled over her nephew's building blocks. "D…" She caught herself just in time as she remembered that she had under-aged company. "Dumb toys." She snatched up the receiver. "Kinsley."

"Hi, Dawn," Olivia's cheerful voice answered. "How's the kiddie shrink business?"

Dawn laughed and sank back onto the couch. They had spoken on the phone at least every other day, and as a result were much more at ease with each other. Dawn was happy about that and hoped that this easy, comfortable interaction would eventually transfer to their face-to-face meetings. "It's going really well, thank you. Are you done with playing the bad cop for today?"

"What makes you think that I haven't been the good cop?" Olivia teasingly objected.

"Call it a hunch." Dawn grinned. "So, are you through with your shift?"

"That's why I'm calling," Olivia answered. "I'm about to go wall-climbing at my gym, and I thought maybe you'd like to come with me and try it?"

Dawn let her forehead sink onto her knee. Shit. The first time she suggests an activity, without me prompting or asking her first, and I have to tell her no! "I'd love to try it sometime, but right now isn't good for me…I'm babysitting Jamie and Tim."

"Oh."

For a few seconds, Dawn could only hear Olivia's breathing. She sighed. "Sorry, it's just bad timing…"

"No. No, it's not…I mean, I don't want to intrude or anything, but if you still want the company – my company – I could come over and help with the babysitting," Olivia suggested.

Dawn stared at the phone for a moment, and then over at her nephew, who was busy rearranging every piece of living room furniture that he could reach. Her niece had just planted another sticker tattoo on her arm. Her ex, Maggie, had always preferred to flee the premises whenever Jamie and Tim were around. Either that or she acted like she was making a huge sacrifice on behalf of world peace by spending half an hour in the company of two kids. And then there was Olivia Benson, who was offering to postpone her own plans and help her baby-sit after a stressful shift.

"Dawn?" Olivia asked when the silence grew between them. "Hey, it's okay if you don't want—"

"But I do!" Dawn said hastily. "I do want you to come over."

"Okay. Can I bring anything?"

Dawn looked around the living room. "A cleaning lady?"

Olivia's laugh made Dawn smile. "Sorry, can't help you there. Anything else?"

"No. Just yourself and a healthy appetite – we're ordering pizza," Dawn decided.

"Yeah!" Jamie almost hit her aunt in the face while pumping her fist in a victory gesture. "I want pineapple and mushrooms!"

"Me too," Olivia announced with a chuckle.

After hanging up, Dawn called her favorite pizza place, and then she and her niece spent the next 30 minutes out-fidgeting each other, waiting impatiently for the ringing of the doorbell. I'm not waiting for a pimple faced delivery boy, though. Dawn knew there was a great big smile on her face in anticipation of Olivia's visit.

When the doorbell finally buzzed, Jamie jumped up.

"Ah, ah!" Dawn shook her head at her. "No running around in socks!" The way to the door was an obstacle course of toys, and she didn't want Jamie to hurt herself. When she peeked through the peephole, Dawn's smile grew brighter. Leaning against the wall a step beside the door, seeking out the protection of the doorjamb in real cop style, was Olivia.

Dawn directed a quick gaze down her own body, skeptically inspecting the baggy sweatpants that she wore and the results of Jamie's beauty contest: each and every finger and toe nail had been painted in a different color nail polish, and sticker tattoos of dragons, horses, and flowers covered both of her arms. If this doesn't scare her off, nothing will, Dawn decided and opened the door.

"Don't touch her!" Jamie screeched, before they could even say hello.

Dawn stopped and turned, throwing an irritated glance back at her niece. When the girl waved her hands, she finally understood and turned back around with a smile. "Don't worry, she's not homophobic or anything, she's just afraid that I'll smear the nail polish she so artfully applied."

Olivia bent down to inspect first hers, and then Jamie's toenails. "Artistic talents seem to run in the family, huh?"

Disappointment and relief warred within Dawn when she returned to her place on the couch. She liked the warm, protective hugs Olivia gave, but their greetings and goodbyes were often a little awkward; each of them not really sure where the other's barriers lay. "Seems like you're on your own; I'm not allowed to play hostess until my nail polish is dry."

Dawn looked on as Olivia took off her coat, revealing the leather jacket she wore underneath despite the sub-zero temperatures and a hint of the creamy skin beneath. I wonder if she suspects my secret - or maybe not so secret - addiction to her leather jacket?

"I brought dessert." Olivia held up two boxes. "Ice-cream for us and cookies since I wasn't sure if Tim could have some of the first."

As if recognizing his own name, the ten month old crawled across the rug, grabbed one of Olivia's jeans legs and pulled himself up into a half-standing position. "Mom-ma!"

Dawn laughed as she watched Olivia blush. "Don't worry, he doesn't want you to adopt him; he calls every woman he likes 'Mom'. Sometimes, he even does it to men."

Olivia chuckled. "And here I thought I was special."

"You are," Dawn said quietly.

Olivia looked up from the little boy holding onto her leg, and their gazes met and held.

The ringing of the doorbell interrupted the moment.

"Pizza!" Jamie shouted and raced to the door.

Olivia lifted an eyebrow. "Didn't you feed her today?"

"Feed her? Let me put it this way: my refrigerator looks like yours every time Jamie leaves after a visit," Dawn said over her shoulder, looking for her wallet. Every time she had visited Olivia's apartment, the fridge had been empty except for yogurt, left-over take-out and various beverages.

When she returned with the pizza and her niece in tow, Olivia had picked up Tim and was bouncing him up and down on her hip.

"I could put him in his high chair while we eat," Dawn offered, even though her nephew didn't look like he wanted to be taken away from this new, interesting person so soon.

"No, it's okay for the moment." Olivia sat down onto the couch and settled the baby on her lap. "If you think it's okay, of course. I don't have much experience with babies."

Studying the content ten month old on Olivia's lap, Dawn found that hard to believe. "It certainly doesn't show." She began to cut slices of pineapple-mushroom-pizza for Jamie and Olivia, whose hands were busy with the bouncing baby. She watched with astonishment as Jamie sat down next to Olivia and shared pizza from her own plate with her.

"Are you Auntie Dawn's new girlfriend?" Jamie asked around a mouthful of pizza.

Olivia almost choked on a mushroom and directed a wide-eyed gaze at Dawn, who preferred the silent approach since she was very interested in what Olivia would answer. "Uh…well, I'm a girl, and I'm her friend, so I guess that makes me her girlfriend, doesn't it?"

"No, silly!" The nine year old girl laughed at her. "I mean her real girlfriend, with kissing and everything!"

Olivia stalled, taking a moment to rescue a slice of pizza from being grabbed by eager baby hands.

"Olivia is a really, really good friend," Dawn finally came to her rescue, "but she's not my kissing buddy, so don't even think about starting with that annoying little song, rug rat!" She poked her giggling niece into the side. Not yet, at least.

Later, with the pizza long gone, Dawn leaned back on the couch, an indulgent smile on her lips as she watched Olivia. The detective lay stretched out on the floor, letting the ten month old crawl all over her while she gently tickled him. The boy giggled and squealed as she lifted him up with both arms, making him fly above her head.

Jamie shook her leg, to get Olivia to look away from her brother and towards her. "Me too, me too!" she demanded.

Before Dawn could protest that Jamie was much too big to be picked up, Olivia set the baby down and stood, sweeping the girl up and around the living room in circles.

God, it would be a crime, if this woman never raises a child! She's so good with them! "You didn't have to do that," Dawn said to Olivia, as she finally fell back onto the couch next to her. She tried not to notice the slight sheen of sweat above the two open buttons on her polo shirt and the way the shirt clung to Olivia's damp skin.

"I could paint your nails for you," Jamie offered, gracing Olivia with a smile. "It's really pretty."

Dawn had to force herself not to laugh out loud at the expression on Olivia's face. She looked positively panicked. She had never seen Olivia wear anything other than clear nail polish.

"I never paint my nails; they're too short for it," Olivia explained.

Jamie didn't let that discourage her. "Then I'll paint your toe nails." She tugged at Olivia's shoes.

Olivia looked down at the girl with rising alarm. "Uh…"

Dawn laughed. "What's the matter, Detective? Afraid that this could hurt your reputation? Rough, tough cops don't have purple toe nails?"

"Well, it's not exactly part of our standard uniform, that's for sure…" Despite her protests, she slipped off her shoes and socks, and wiggled her toes at Jamie. "I surrender. Just no pink, please."

Dawn leaned down to help her nephew crawl into her lap and took the opportunity to study Olivia's feet. She has cute feet. She watched the bare toes curl into the carpet. Somehow there's something almost…intimate about sitting next to a barefoot woman.

Half an hour later, Olivia put on her socks and shoes, covering her green, red, blue, and silver colored toe nails. "I'll head out now," she announced. "Thanks for the artful pedicure, Jamie." She nodded at the girl, scoring major points with Dawn's niece for not trying to tousle her hair like many adults did.

Dawn watched as Olivia stood, slipped on her coat, and then turned back to her. This time it was the sleeping baby in her arms that prevented Dawn from hugging Olivia. "If you want, we could go wall-climbing tomorrow," Dawn offered. She didn't want to overwhelm Olivia, who was used to spending most of her free-time on her own.

"Well, after that pizza, I could certainly use a little training!" Olivia agreed. She buttoned up her coat, and then there was nothing else to do but to say good-bye, turn around and leave.

"Should I call you tomorrow morning?" Dawn asked in an attempt to stall a little.

"Around nine?"

Dawn grinned. "I'm not sure I'll be up by then. I tend to sleep in on Sundays." She could see Olivia as an early riser, someone who couldn't be kept in bed past eight, and she absent-mindedly wondered if that would ever be of any importance between them beyond the planning of joint activities. "How about ten?"

"Ten, it is. See you tomorrow." Olivia leaned down, careful not to wake the sleeping boy in Dawn's arms.

Dawn's breath caught, very much aware of Olivia's closeness and the air of insecurity lingering between them. The warm, but quick hug that had become their usual greeting was impossible since Dawn's arms were held captive by her nephew.

After a few seconds of hesitancy on both sides, Dawn decided that it was up to her to establish any form of contact between them. She leaned forward and quickly pressed her lips against Olivia's cheek for a fleeting peck, before she sank back against the couch again. "Thanks for keeping us company."

"Oh, you're welcome," Olivia answered with a smile, moving backwards towards the door. "It's not everyday I get my nails done." She winked at the giggling Jamie, and then she was gone.

A few minutes later the doorbell rang again. Dawn cautiously slipped out from under the still sleeping baby and settled him onto the couch.

"Hi, Dawn." Her sister-in-law hugged her, and then looked down at her arms and toes. "What happened to you?" Eliza asked with a laugh.

"Your daughter," Dawn answered dryly.

Jamie ran forward and wiggled her toes at her mother. "I did mine and Olivia's, too!" she announced proudly.

Dawn grimaced. She hadn't wanted to tell her family about her friendship – and certainly not the possibility of more – with Olivia just yet.

Luckily, Eliza just nodded, obviously assuming Olivia was the name of one of Jamie's countless dolls or stuffed animals that she housed at Dawn's. "Okay, sweetie, why don't you start packing up your things; your Dad's waiting at home."

It was still a little strange for Dawn to hear Eliza referring to Rick, her husband of two years, as Jamie's dad; a title that would have been her brother's had he lived. But she pushed back her feelings, knowing that Rick was the only father Jamie would ever know – and a good one at that.

She watched as Jamie pouted a little, but obediently went to pick up her things from the bedroom. "I could watch her again next weekend," Dawn offered. She knew that Eliza and Rick hardly got to spend any time together as a couple.

Eliza smiled down at her sleeping son, but then looked up at Dawn with a frown. "Not that I don't appreciate it, but I really don't want to impose. Don't you need a little time for yourself right now?" She looked at Dawn in concern.

"You think Jamie is just a distraction for me?" Dawn bit her lip. It hurt when other people reduced all her feelings to those related to the rape, as if she didn't have other things that were important in her life anymore.

"No, I don't think that at all," Eliza rushed to tell her. "I know that you love my kids. I'm sorry if—"

Dawn sighed. Her anger still stirred too easily whenever she felt she was treated like a victim. "No, it's all right, really. And I was serious about next weekend. We want to take Jamie ice-skating, if it's okay with you."

"Jamie would love that…wait a moment! Did you just say 'we'?" Eliza studied her curiously.

Dawn wasn't eager to discuss something that she wasn't too sure of herself, but she didn't want to lie about anything that had to do with Olivia either. She was proud to call the detective her friend. "Uhm…yes, I suppose I did…"

"I know you psychologists are supposed to be a bit wacky yourselves, but you're not referring to yourself in the plural, are you? So, who else might that 'we' include?" Eliza's dark eyes glittered with curiosity.

Dawn knew that there was no sense in trying to deny anything. She had no doubt that all Eliza would hear from her daughter on the drive home would be 'Olivia did this' and 'Olivia did that'. "I've spent a little time with Olivia lately."

"Olivia?" Eliza repeated, finally figuring out that 'Olivia' was a real person. Suddenly her eyes widened. "You're dating Detective Benton?!"

"Benson," Dawn corrected automatically. "And I'm not dating her. Not really."

Eliza studied her through narrowed eyes. "She seems to be a nice woman, but…starting a relationship with the detective who investigated your case…that could get really complicated…"

Dawn couldn't deny that. It's even more complicated than you realize. She knew, from dozens of patients, exactly how hard it could be to establish trust and intimacy in the first new relationship after facing a trauma like rape. Her reservations and doubts about being in a relationship with a cop didn't make it easier, and Olivia's own issues certainly didn't help either. But still…I think it could be worth it. "I'm not trying to start a relationship with the detective," she seriously told her sister-in-law, "I'm trying to get to know the woman."

"And she's interested in getting to know you, too?"

"I think so, yes." Dawn looked at her sister-in-law with pleading eyes. "We're taking it real slowly, though, so please keep it to yourself for now, okay? If my mom gets wind of it…what she'll put Olivia through would make the Spanish Inquisition look like a relaxation cure."

Eliza laughed. "Oh, come on, your mom's not that bad! She welcomed me into the family with open arms."

"Yeah, but you're not a cop, and you don't want to start a lesbian relationship with her only daughter," Dawn grumbled.

Eliza's smile dimmed. "Okay, I'll keep quiet about it. But you could bring your sweetie over for dinner next Sunday; I want to get to know her."

"You will," Dawn promised, ignoring the 'sweetie' comment. "But not next Sunday. It's too soon." She knew that Olivia was not accustomed to big families. She had a feeling that under the right – or rather wrong – circumstances, it would be Olivia rather than her, who would become overwhelmed by too much closeness and intimacy and run away scared.

"Then invite her to the house at Christmas," Eliza suggested. "There will be so many people around that she won't feel like she's under a microscope."

Celebrating Christmas with Olivia. It wasn't the first time she had thought about it, but up until now, she hadn't found the courage to ask if it was what Olivia wanted too. "I'll ask her," she promised vaguely.

Part 16

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