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 6

SPECIAL VICTIMS UNIT

SQUAD ROOM

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 26

Elliot leaned back, put his feet up onto the corner of his desk and took a bite of his tuna sandwich. "And then this guy looks down and says…" He paused to swallow and to keep his listeners in suspense for a moment longer.

"Uh-huh," Olivia mumbled.

Irritated, Elliot gazed across the desk at his partner. She was sitting behind her own desk, shoveling food into her mouth with one hand while the other leafed through a stack of reports. This had been the third time that she had mm-hm'ed or uh-huh'ed at the wrong point of his tale about the guy two of their colleagues had arrested this morning. "Are you even listening to me?"

Olivia didn't look up from her food or her reports. "Yeah."

"Okay, so they're chasing him up the stairs, and when he has nowhere else to go, he looks down at them…"

"Mm-hm."

Elliot stopped his tale and folded his arms across his chest. "You didn't hear a word I said, did you, Olivia Benson?"

"Sure."

"So, you did hear that I told you Munch is going to get married again?"

Olivia nodded, head still bent over the reports and her lunch.

"To Alex Cabot," Elliot continued.

The dark head lifted. "What?"

"Ah, that finally woke you up, didn't it?!" Elliot threw his crumbled sandwich paper at her.

"Sorry, El, it's just…" Olivia gestured down at her desk.

Elliot craned his neck, trying to glance into the bowl she had brought to lunch. "What's this?"

"Think I oughta give some of my old buddies from narcotics a call, 'cause you're practically inhalin' that stuff, whatever it is," Fin commented from his desk.

"I think our dear colleague is holding back on us, my friends," Munch threw in. "She won't even share a small sample of her lunch with us."

"It's 'serve and protect', not 'share and protect', guys," Olivia mumbled around a mouth full of rice and chicken.

Fin peeked into Olivia's bowl on his way to the coffee pot. "That ain't take-out."

"Are you dating a chef or something like that?" Munch asked.

Every cop who had ever been invited into Olivia's home had seen the impeccably clean kitchen, and those of them who had actually been invited to stay for lunch or dinner knew the kitchen was so spotless because it didn't see much action. Therefore, Munch's suggestion that someone must have prepared the home-cooked meal for Olivia made a lot of sense to Elliot. But unlike Munch, he knew that there was no chef in the picture.

Elliot wasn't sure whether or not Fin and Munch knew that Olivia's romantic interest wasn't confined to men. He had heard rumours that Fin's son was gay and that one of Munch's many ex-wives was now living with a woman, but even if that was true, he had no idea how his two colleagues felt about homosexuality.

"Olivia…" Elliot directed a concerned glance at her, because the only persons Olivia had shown any interest in lately would have both been completely inappropriate partners. Having an affair with either a victim or their A.D.A. could be devastating for Olivia's career. "Is there any possibility that this lovingly prepared meal was cooked by someone you really shouldn't exchange recipes or anything else with?"

Finally, Olivia set down the empty bowl. "It's not what you think. This was just leftovers from a thank-you dinner."

"Okay." Elliot had no choice but to trust his partner's word. "But if you ever want to talk about it…"

Olivia nodded and stood, grabbing a stack of files. "I'll know where to find you."

APARTMENT OF

OLIVIA BENSON

117 EAST 82ND STREET

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 27

Dawn Kinsley quickened her stride, crossing to the other side of the street when a black-haired man came a little too close for her comfort. Since the rape, she felt like she couldn't trust her instincts or judgment where people were concerned anymore and had to think of every stranger as a possible attacker. She could no longer allow herself the luxury of being careless.

She stopped in front of Detective Benson's apartment building and, after a quick glance back over her shoulder, started searching for the right bell-button. She lifted her index finger but then hesitated. I should really wait until Monday… I bet she works too much as it is, she doesn't need me to interrupt her at home on the weekend.

Dawn jumped when the door to the apartment building suddenly opened. An older man exited and held the door open for her. Feeling as though her decision had been made for her, Dawn ducked past the man and climbed the stairs.

After a few minutes of yet another internal debate, she finally knocked at the door.

"Yeah, yeah, coming!" Detective Benson's voice sounded muffled through the door and, Dawn believed, a little annoyed with the interruption. But when the door swung open, there was nothing but worry and kindness in the deep brown eyes. "Hey, Dawn! Come in! Are you all right?"

"Yes, I think so." Dawn followed her into the apartment. She looked around, glad to postpone an explanation for another minute or two. The apartment was as neat as it had been the last time she had seen it. She didn't see a TV set, and there were no signs of any hobby the detective might have. To Dawn, it was painfully obvious that this was the home of a workaholic. The only personal object was a framed photograph of Olivia with an older woman. The woman's blonde hair, light eyes, and facial features didn't resemble Olivia much, but Dawn had a feeling that this was Olivia's mother. Olivia probably looked like her father, Dawn assumed, but couldn't find a photograph of him.

Olivia threw the Afghan from the couch and gestured for Dawn to sit down. Dawn noticed that she was barefoot and held a forgotten book in her hand. She tilted the detective's hand to read the title, and then raised an eyebrow. "Not getting enough crime at work, Detective?"

The police officer shrugged. "Well…I can't really relate to romance novels, and this one is very well written. Can I offer you a cup of tea?"

"No, thanks. I don't want to interrupt you for long, it's just…I busied myself with cleaning my office while I can't see patients and…maybe I'm paranoid and just imagining things, but…" Dawn took a deep breath. "…I came across a file of a patient whose story resembles mine."

"Resembles it how?" The brown eyes were now fixed on Dawn's. "I know you said that you wouldn't disclose patient confidentialities, but—"

"It's okay, Detective," Dawn assured her. "I've just spoken to that particular patient, and she released me from my duty to maintain confidentiality."

Olivia Benson nodded. "Good. So, what are the parallels between her case and yours?"

Dawn hesitated.

"I know it can be hard to speak about the details of—"

"It's not that," Dawn said. What she had to tell the detective had nothing to do with the details of her rape. She trusted Olivia, had trusted her from the very first moment and still did even when her trust in other people had been thoroughly shaken up. Something about Olivia Benson made her feel safe. She didn't really fear Olivia's reaction; she even had the feeling that Olivia would understand because she herself had said the exact same words before. But those words would interrupt the status quo they had, and that was one of the reasons that made her hesitate. "Detective…Olivia…perhaps I should have told you before, it's just…I didn't think that it had any bearings on the case…"

"What?" Finally, after much rambling from Dawn, even the ever patient Detective Benson had enough. "Just tell me, please."

Dawn took a deep breath. "I'm gay."

Olivia just blinked.

Dawn stared at her in concern, suddenly unsure if she had judged the detective so badly.

"You…you're gay? Are you sure?" was the first thing the surprised detective managed to say.

Dawn had to laugh. "Yes, Detective, I am sure, trust me." She saw Olivia's gaze. "I know, I know…I've been married, right?" Dawn voiced the unspoken question. "But that's not a guarantee for heterosexuality, is it? It was one of the many problems in our marriage."

Olivia nodded in understanding.

"So, you're okay with it…with me?" Dawn asked.

"Of course," Olivia assured her, not missing a beat. "It would be pretty hypocritical of me if I wasn't."

Dawn had suspected that the detective might be gay or bi when they first met, but had immediately reprimanded herself for the assumption. Being a confident woman with short hair, a purposeful stride, and a successful career in a typically male job was just a sign of a strength that didn't depend on any man, not a sign of lesbianism. But the subtle impression had stayed with Dawn when she had met the detective again in the small grocery store.

Then, she had been raped and Olivia had become her lifeline, the one thing linking her to reality in her state of numbness and chaos. All thoughts about Olivia's sexual orientation – or her own – were gone; all that mattered were the detective's compassion and the aura of calmness and safety she projected.

Olivia hadn't said much on the subject, but it was clear enough to Dawn that she was either a lesbian or bisexual. Dawn was curious, she wanted to know how her private and her professional life mixed and how a lesbian NYPD officer was treated by her peers, but she decided not to ask any personal questions.

She had sensed from the beginning that Olivia felt uncomfortable discussing herself. It hadn't come as a surprise. From early childhood on, Dawn had known a lot of police officers and had later even counseled some of them. She had found most of them slow to trust and reluctant to reveal personal information. She wasn't sure if it was their work experience which made them distrust people or if their pre-existing emotional reserve and discipline were what made them choose a career in law enforcement and be successful in it.

Perhaps it wasn't even the cop-typical reluctance to speak about herself that she felt from Olivia, but her attempts to keep a professional distance from the victim on one of her cases. In her interactions with Olivia she had sensed more than once that the detective wanted to show her more than a strictly professional compassion and offer her the help of a friend. But the detective had held herself back, afraid to hurt the investigation and reluctant to step out of the familiar role of an officer and interact simply as a human being. Dawn had resigned herself to accepting the limits that Olivia had set for their acquaintance.

Olivia Benson cleared her throat. "Okay, now that we've got that all cleared up…you said, this had something to do with the case?"

"I'm not sure…sometimes, everything I see and hear seems to be connected to the rape; every little noise in the apartment sounds like someone trying to break in, and every stranger in the street looks like him…" Dawn swallowed against a dry throat and rubbed clammy hands on her jeans. "I'm not sure if I can trust my own judgment, but I'd rather sound like a paranoid fool than risk him never getting caught just because I was too proud or too scared."

Olivia turned to her, brown eyes sincere. "Just tell me. I promise I won't think you're a fool."

"He…he told her…he told a patient of mine that…" Dawn's hands started to shake, and she wrapped her arms protectively around herself to hide it. "He hit her and said she shouldn't just lie there and act as if…as if she didn't enjoy…being fucked by a real man." She was fighting for breath now, feeling like she couldn't get enough air. For a few seconds, she was back in her old apartment and his weight pressed her into the mattress.

Then she felt a strong, warm hand take her own – a touch so gentle that her body couldn't mistake it for that of the rapist. Finally, she looked up into deep, compassionate eyes.

"You okay now? Do you want a glass of water?" Olivia asked.

Dawn shook her head. Her mouth was dry but she didn't want to lose the safe feeling of Olivia by her side, and she still needed to finish telling her about the parallels between the two cases. "He told me the same thing when he raped me. This patient…she's a lesbian and so am I. Do you think that's a coincidence?"

Olivia studied her thoughtfully. "I don't want to make rash assumptions, and I can't make any promises without further investigation, but this could very well turn out to be our first solid lead. Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me."

Dawn smiled, grateful that the detective knew exactly how hard it had been for her – or for any rape survivor – to trust someone enough to make herself vulnerable. She had taken a risk by telling the officer investigating her case that she was gay. Dawn had heard enough stories from gay and lesbian patients to understand why most didn't out themselves to the doctor doing the rape kit or the investigating detectives. They simply didn't want to do anything that could rob them of the help they needed after a rape. Some of her lesbian clients had told the E.R. doctor who asked about their usual form of birth control that they didn't use any because they were gay. Sometimes their coming out had resulted in an even more awkward and uncomfortable atmosphere during the examination and led to police officers who hadn't exactly busted a gut trying to solve the case. Dawn was sure that she didn't need to fear that.

"I'll need the name and the address of that patient," Olivia said. "Did she file charges?"

"No, she didn't call the police. She never even told anyone but her partner," Dawn explained.

"Do you think you can get her to talk to us?"

Dawn shrugged, unsure if she wanted to drag her patient through all the questions she'd had to go through when she had given her statement. "Maybe, but it's been six years since her rape. The statute of limitations has run out, and I don't want to make her go through this again if you can't use it in court anyway."

"We have to catch him before we can go to court," Olivia said, "and that's what your patient can help us with. If this rapist really is targeting lesbians, we need to investigate how he finds out about their sexual orientation. I don't know your patient, but you, for one, are not exactly a leather-clad dyke with a rainbow bracelet."

"You're not stereotyping, are you, Detective?" Dawn teased.

Olivia rubbed her neck. "No, I don't mean to, but…I'm asking myself how he could have known. I'm sure he couldn't tell just by looking at you."

"Are you sure?" This was something that Dawn had asked herself over and over again since she had found the patient's file with the case resembling her own. If she had to think that every stranger in the street could pick her out as a lesbian and attack her because of it, she would never feel safe again. It wasn't that she felt much safer now, but it was easier to think that her attacker had just picked the first open window he had come to. Windows and doors could be locked to make sure that no one else came in. It was the feeling of being targeted that she couldn't stand. The thought that someone may have been following her, watching her, and attacking her with no more provocation than who she was, just made the violation that much stronger.

Olivia looked at her with compassion. "Even I couldn't tell if you were a lesbian or not, and I'm supposed to have gaydar," she assured her. "How well-known is your sexual orientation?"

"I haven't made a public announcement or anything, but it's not a big secret. My mother, my colleagues, and most of my friends know. My ex knows but prefers to ignore it. I'm sure that none of them would discuss my sexual orientation with a stranger." Everyone Dawn knew accepted her sexual orientation or at least would never hurt her because of it.

"I'll look into some of our old cases tomorrow," Olivia promised, "and try to find victims who could have been targeted because of their sexual orientation."

"Tomorrow's Sunday," Dawn reminded.

Olivia shook her head. "Justice doesn't observe Sundays."

"Don't I know that." Dawn sighed and smiled at the same time, as she remembered her childhood. "Sometimes it was as if I was growing up with a single parent. There were times that I didn't get to see my father all week. With night shifts, overtime, and interrupted holidays, my mom was practically a married single!"

"I always wondered how Elliot, my partner, makes it work. He's married with four kids," Olivia explained.

Dawn tilted her head. She could see Detective Stabler as a family man. "He must have found a way to make the time they spend together count. Maybe he's good at sharing his work experiences, not excluding her from this important part of his life like most cops do."

Olivia shook her head, but didn't say anything, clearly not willing to discuss relationships and what made them work with Dawn.

Yawning, Dawn stood up from the couch. "Okay, I should go now." Then her gaze fell on the window at the head of the couch, and she noticed with a sudden start that it had gotten dark outside.

Dawn swallowed. Since the rape, she avoided going out alone at night but she had forgotten the time, and now she had no choice but to make her way to her car in the dark. She bit her lip when she remembered how far away she'd had to park.

"You look really tired." Olivia stood up from the couch.

That's the understatement of the century! For the last three weeks, she had been in a constant state of alert, always on guard. It was physically and mentally exhausting. "I haven't slept for more than a few hours at a time since the rape," she admitted. "Being alone in my apartment…or anywhere…at night is really difficult for me." She felt like she could be honest and vulnerable with the detective and didn't need to put on a show.

"Want me to drive you home?" Olivia offered immediately.

"No, thank you." In all honesty, Dawn wanted nothing more than to be in the company of someone she felt safe with, but she knew how difficult the situation was for the detective. As much as Olivia wanted to help, she couldn't do it without risking her objectivity as a police officer. "I think I'll drive downtown and wake up my mother. I don't think I can be alone tonight." Perhaps it didn't make sense, but now that they had a possible lead and the rapist's motive, he suddenly appeared to be a more substantial threat than before.

Olivia lingered between Dawn and the front door, visibly debating something with herself. "Stay here tonight."

Dawn stared at her.

"It doesn't make sense for you to drive all the way downtown while you're this exhausted. I might think of more questions you need to clarify before I go through old case files tomorrow, and I would hate to wake up your mom by calling early…so, you sleeping on my couch would be the logical choice."

Dawn knew that the detective was reasoning more with herself than with Dawn. She looked through the window to the darkness outside. Finally she glanced back at Olivia. "Thank you. I'll stay, if it really doesn't bother you."

The detective shook her head. "I'll lay out something for you to sleep in. Pajamas okay?"

Dawn nodded. The thought of Detective Olivia Benson in her nightclothes seemed almost surreal to her. Look behind the gold shield, she reminded herself, she needs to sleep just like any other human, and she doesn't always wear her 'detective clothes'.

Olivia gave her a pair of silk pajamas that looked brand new and pointed her to the bathroom. "There should be a spare toothbrush somewhere in the cupboard."

Closing the door behind her, Dawn debated with herself whether to lock the door or not. Finally she decided she didn't want to insult her hostess by implying that she wouldn't respect a closed bathroom door or couldn't protect her from any intruder, and left it unlocked. The pajamas were a little too big on her, and with her splinted right index finger, she fumbled with the buttons.

By the time she left the bathroom, Olivia had already moved the coffee table out of the way and made up the couch for her. Olivia, now wearing sweatpants and a sleeveless top, handed her a glass of orange juice. "Do you need anything else?"

Dawn swallowed her pride. "Can we leave one of the lights on?" She hadn't been able to sleep in total darkness since the rape.

"Sure." Olivia turned on a lamp sitting at one end of the couch. "Is this one enough?"

Dawn nodded and slipped under the covers. "Good night. And thanks."

"Good night." With one last glance over her shoulder, Olivia walked into the bedroom.

Dawn lay with her eyes open, listening to the little noises in the apartment; the creaking of bed springs; the jingling of some coins when something metallic – Olivia's watch, Dawn imagined - was dropped on top of them. In her own apartment, every sound tended to scare her, but now they had a soothing quality because she knew they were produced by someone who could protect her.

For a while, Dawn thought she could sleep tonight, but then she really noticed the position of the couch she lay on. The bedroom and the living room were practically one big room, but the back of the couch separated them, making it impossible for her to see Olivia. Above her, at the head end of the couch, was a window, and she was looking directly at the front door. Suddenly, she had the feeling of being trapped between two possible entryways into the apartment.

Trying to calm down, she reached for the book Olivia had forgotten on the coffee table. She knew the book, had only read it a month before and knew it was good, but it couldn't capture her attention now. She almost didn't feel like the woman who had read through these pages for the first time.

"Hey, everything okay?" Olivia said from the bedroom. "Can't sleep?"

Dawn sat up. "Maybe I should just drive home…"

"What?" A few seconds later, Olivia was kneeling down in the space between the coffee table and the couch. "Why? Aren't you comfortable here?"

"No…yes…it's…" Dawn pointed between the door and the window at either end of the couch.

"Ah." Olivia rubbed her neck as she seemed to understand that Dawn felt like easy prey between the two entry points into the apartment. "Why don't you sleep in the bed? I'll take the couch, and believe me, I won't even let a housefly pass through to the bedroom."

Dawn shook her head. "I can't make you sleep on the couch!"

"Most nights I just stumble into the apartment and crash on the couch, anyway. I've slept out here hundreds of times before," Olivia assured her. "Come on."

Reluctantly, Dawn rose and followed her into the bedroom.

Olivia took the cordless and her cell phone from the nightstand. "Do you want fresh linens?"

Dawn shook her head and wished her a "good night" again. Slipping under the still warm covers, she exhaled and relaxed. The bed was in the corner of the room that was furthest away from the front door that Olivia was blocking from any intruders. A small bedside lamp lit up the room around Dawn.

The pillow she laid her head on was obviously the detective's own, and she inhaled the soothing scent deeply. For the first time in three weeks, Dawn felt safe enough to close her eyes without sheer exhaustion forcing her to.

APARTMENT OF

OLIVIA BENSON

117 EAST 82ND STREET

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 27

Olivia lay in the semi-darkness of her living room, listening to the deep breathing of her surprise guest.

Internally, she had berated herself for her offer to let Dawn sleep over as soon as she had spoken it. She could only imagine what Elliot or the rest of her colleagues would say when she told them that a victim had stayed at her apartment over night. But when she listened to Dawn's peaceful breathing, knowing it was the first good night's sleep she had gotten in weeks, it was hard to regret her decision.

So, Olivia was lying awake scolding herself and watching over Dawn's sleeping form. She tried to keep her thoughts on the investigative steps she would take tomorrow, but her mind kept wandering back to Dawn's revelation. She still couldn't believe that Dawn Kinsley, the woman who had caught her eye from the first moment she saw her, was gay. That doesn't change anything, she strictly told herself. She remains just as unattainable for you. She's a rape victim, and she needs the professional Detective Benson, not the infatuated Olivia.

A sudden scream from the bedroom interrupted her brooding thoughts. With a curse, Olivia threw the covers off and raced to Dawn's side. The blankets were twisted around the small woman, practically tying her to the bed. She tossed around wildly and woke with a cry just as Olivia reached her. Tears ran down Dawn's cheeks as she blinked up at Olivia. Her breath was coming way too fast, and Olivia could see her pulse hammering in the carotid artery at the side of her neck. Dawn looked around like a scared animal, needing a few seconds to remember where she was and whom she was with.

Olivia looked down at the frightened woman, hesitant to hold or touch her without any indication from Dawn that such comfort was welcome. "Hey, it's just me. No one's going to hurt you here. Were you dreaming?" she asked as she sat on the side of bed, careful to leave some space between herself and her panicked guest.

"Nightmare," Dawn rasped.

Olivia couldn't watch her suffer bravely without offering comfort. Not wanting to frighten her with an unexpected touch, she decided to ask for permission. "Want a hug?"

Dawn didn't answer, at least not verbally. Her silent tears turned into sobs as she threw her arms around Olivia and buried her face against her neck, finally letting the tears fall without trying to be strong and brave.

Olivia held her carefully, as though she would hurt Dawn by holding on tighter.

"I can't stop thinking about it," Dawn whispered against Olivia's skin. "My thoughts are going in cycles, even when I sleep."

"It's okay." Olivia stroked the blonde head. "Just relax and breathe now. It's all right, you're okay. Nothing can hurt you now." She knew that she couldn't offer more of a comfort; the rape had been real, and its effects would probably last for quite some time, maybe even forever.

Finally, Dawn's sobs quieted and the tears dried on her cheeks. "Sorry." She moved away from Olivia's soothing embrace; only one hand remained in contact with Olivia's arm. "I didn't intend to go all weepy on you again."

"You're allowed to 'get weepy'," Olivia emphasized. "Don't be so hard on yourself. You wouldn't think of a crying client as weepy, would you? Why do you hold yourself to a different standard?"

Dawn sniffled. "Maybe I'm just not ready to accept what has happened to me and to think of myself as a victim."

"Then think of yourself as a survivor," Olivia suggested.

"You're really, really good at your job; has anyone ever told you that?" Dawn dabbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her pajamas.

"Sure, my partner tells me every time he wants me to question a witness or a suspect he can't stand," Olivia joked, trying to hide the fact that this was not just a 'job' for her. "Do you want to stay up for a while or try to go back to sleep?"

Dawn brushed a few damp strands of hair from her face and looked up at Olivia. "Well…that depends…"

Olivia swallowed hard. Oh, please, please, please, don't let her ask me to sleep in the bed with her to keep the nightmares away! I can't seem to say no to her, and I want to help her, but I really can't do that! "Depends on what?" she asked cautiously.

"On whether or not you have ice-cream in your freezer, Detective."

And that was how Detective Olivia Benson found herself sitting on her couch, eating ice-cream at three a.m.

APARTMENT OF

OLIVIA BENSON

117 EAST 82ND STREET

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 28

Olivia tiptoed into the bedroom. She smiled and leaned against one wall for a moment, watching Dawn sleep.

Dawn was sprawled across the length of her bed, not rolled up into a frightened little ball like she had been last night. Sunlight danced across creamy skin and blonde hair, making it shine like gold. For the first time in weeks, Dawn looked totally at peace.

It had been years since Olivia had watched another person sleep. She had shared her bed a few times in the last years, but only rarely had she stayed in bed long enough to watch her bed partners sleep. Usually, she preferred to slip out of bed and out of their lives as soon as possible. Now, although she had shared nothing but a pint of ice-cream with Dawn, she wanted to stay and make her breakfast.

She had decided that she would forego her usual Sunday-morning run, because she didn't want Dawn to wake up alone in the foreign apartment. So, bringing back pastries, croissants, and rolls from the bakery down the street was out of the question. Olivia tiptoed back into the kitchen and searched her cupboards and the fridge for breakfast ingredients.

"Morning."

Olivia jumped, startled by the sudden voice behind her, and slammed her head against the refrigerator door. She turned and regarded Dawn, who had already changed into the pair of snug fitting low rise jeans from last night. Olivia had secretly decided that she liked to see Dawn in jeans almost better than seeing her in elegant skirt suits. "Hey, up already? I hope I didn't wake you?"

"Not at all. I'm surprised I slept as long as I did. Are you making breakfast?" Dawn studied the things Olivia had arranged on a tray.

"Don't sound so skeptical, please," Olivia demanded with a smile. "I'll let you know I can make breakfast with the best of them. It's not considered cooking so you're in no danger of food poisoning."

Laughing, Dawn helped her set the table. "You're an only child, aren't you?"

"You know that from the way I like my eggs or what?" Olivia looked at her in amazement.

"No, I know it from the way you set down the cornflakes within easy reach of me. When I grew up, I had to grab the cereals first or risk having to watch my brother eating the last of them. To this day, I tend to keep the cereal box on my side of the table," Dawn explained with a self-ironic grin.

Growing up not only without sisters or brothers, but also without cousins or friends that spent a lot of time at her home, Olivia had never really understood sibling rivalry. She had often regretted not having a sibling. But who knows…, she thought with a bitter smile, maybe I just don't know about them. Maybe there's a litter of offspring that bastard fathered somewhere out there. "You and your brother…were you close?"

"Aidan was five years older than I, so I got on his last nerve when he was a teenager and I would follow him around like a puppy, but other than that, we were close, yes." Dawn sighed. "Sometimes, I'd give everything to be able to see him now, to see the man he would have become. He was only twenty-three when he died, and in some respects still very much a kid."

Olivia counted quickly. God, she lost her father and her brother within one or two years! "Did he…?" She stopped and looked down into the pan their scrambled eggs were frying in.

"…die while he was on duty?" Dawn continued for her and nodded. "He was shot when he and his partner ran after some drug dealers. Aidan loved being a cop, and he threw himself enthusiastically into every patrol, every investigation, and every drug raid. Even after dad's death, he never considered that he could die doing his job, too. It was very hard on my mom."

And on you. Olivia decided to change the topic when Dawn fell silent. She sprinkled a little salt and pepper across the eggs and put equal parts of them onto the two plates.

Dawn smiled when a cup was set in front of her from which the tag of a tea bag was dangling. She put the orange juice back into the refrigerator before they both sat down.

Olivia had never liked to share her morning routine with anyone. Except for her partner, she hadn't looked across a breakfast table at another person in years, but now she found that she didn't mind Dawn's presence in her home in the least.

Despite telling her about her brother's death, Dawn was smiling this morning, obviously not one of those persons who wouldn't even exchange a halfway polite greeting before their second cup of coffee. Nothing reminded Olivia of the sobbing woman who had clung to her in desperation just last night. In the light of day, Dawn appeared to be strong and full of life.

The smile vanished from the psychologist's face when Olivia set a plate with eggs, bacon, and toast in front of her. Dawn stumbled from the table and disappeared into the bathroom.

Olivia skeptically tried a forkful of her scrambled eggs. "Hey, they're not that bad!" she defended, shaking her head. She wrinkled her brow when she heard Dawn gagging and retching behind the bathroom door.

Abandoning her own food, she crossed the room to lean against the bathroom door. "Dawn? Are you sick?"

It took a few moments for Dawn to answer. "I…I'll be out in a second." Her voice sounded shaky.

Olivia waited a second, then a minute. Still, Dawn was in the bathroom, not saying a word. Only occasional gagging and heaving could be heard. "Dawn?" Olivia knocked on the door to announce herself. "I'm coming in, okay?"

"No!" Dawn protested. "Stay out there. I don't want you to always have to take care of me. I'll be fine in a second."

"Dawn…" Olivia shook her head in frustrated helplessness. "Cut the macho superhero routine, please. It's reserved strictly for cops."

"Stay out," Dawn repeated weakly. "I don't want you to see me like this."

Olivia hesitated, but then another round of retching started behind the bathroom door. When she opened the door, Dawn was kneeling on the bathroom tiles, holding onto the toilet with trembling hands. Her skin was ghostly pale and glistening with cold sweat.

Hastily, Olivia ran water over a washcloth and handed it to Dawn while she gently brushed back limp strands of hair from her face. "Why didn't you tell me sooner that you didn't feel well?"

Dawn shuddered, obviously fighting against another bout of nausea. "I didn't. I was perfectly fine until I smelled the bacon or the eggs or something." She wiped her mouth and stood.

Concerned, Olivia watched as she stood on legs that were still a little shaky. Not wanting to take the risk of Dawn falling and hitting her head in the small bathroom, she wrapped a supporting arm around her and led her to the couch, away from the smell of food. She spread the Afghan across Dawn's lap and retrieved her cup of tea for her. "Better now?" she asked when she kneeled down in front of her.

"Yes, thank you." Dawn leaned back, still a little pale.

Olivia studied her in concern. "Seems like all those stressful things we talked about last night and this morning were a little too much for your stomach, huh?"

"Maybe," Dawn said vaguely. She didn't seem to believe in the explanation Olivia had offered.

What is it then? Olivia wondered. Can't be my cooking, no one's ever gotten sick before taking a bite of it. Suddenly, her eyes widened when another common cause of queasiness and throwing up occurred to her. "Dawn…" She looked at her in alarm.

Dawn bit her lip. Tears shone in her eyes but she refused to let them fall. "I don't know how it's possible, well, I know how…but…you know what I mean. I think I might be pregnant."

Olivia took a deep breath. She forced herself to be objective and to hide any of her personal feelings. "Pregnancy in spite of taking emergency contraceptives is not very likely, but it's still possible. You didn't do a pregnancy test?"

Dawn shook her head. "I stalled since I missed my period last week. I didn't have the courage to do the test. I don't know what I would do if I'm really pregnant…" She looked at Olivia as if searching for an answer.

Almost a little panicky now, Olivia shook her head. She could feel a dull throb developing and pinched the bridge of her nose in a futile attempt to ward it off. This was quickly becoming more than she could handle, and she could only imagine what it must be like for Dawn. She was determined to try and make it easier for Dawn, but this was one decision she couldn't make for her. "I told you before; I'm not the best person to ask. No one who was conceived through rape can ever be objective when it comes to such a decision."

"What?" Dawn sat up on the couch.

"I said no one who was—"

Dawn wildly shook her head. "I heard you the first time…do you mean to say that you're…your mother was raped and…" The psychologist seemed to be speechless.

Olivia furrowed her brow. "You didn't know?"

"No!"

Now, Olivia was confused. "But you asked me to speak to your group, remember? The one with the women who've gotten pregnant through rape."

"I asked you to speak to the group because you're one of the very few women working with Special Victims. I knew the women in the group would feel more comfortable talking with you than with one of your male colleagues. I wanted them to meet someone who has to deal with rape everyday of her life and can still relate to people with compassion."

Olivia rubbed the back of her neck. "I thought you knew."

Dawn rolled her eyes. "I don't know why people always think psychologists are mind-readers! I'd just met you when I asked you about speaking to the group, how could I have known such a personal thing about you?"

If Olivia thought about it, it was a really stupid assumption, but when confronted with this particular issue, she tended not to think; too busy with building walls to protect herself. "You wouldn't have told me about your possible pregnancy if you'd known about…the way I was conceived, would you?" she asked with sudden insight.

"I don't know…I didn't plan on telling anyone until I'd made a decision…" Dawn pinched the bridge of her nose, unconsciously mirroring Olivia's earlier action, and looked down at the carpet. "I love kids, and I've always known that I'd have at least one someday, but I imagined having a loving co-parent and not…this…this whole situation." She closed her eyes.

Olivia nodded in understanding. "I can't make that decision for you, but I'll support you, no matter what you decide to do."

Dawn's gray-green eyes searched Liv's own. "You'd hold my hand in the waiting room of an abortion clinic if that's what I wanted?"

"Of course," Olivia said without hesitation. "Just because I was conceived through rape doesn't necessarily mean that I'd make the same decision my mother made all those years ago. I don't know what I'd decide. But if anyone knows how hard it can be to bring up a child being aware everyday that it was his or her father who had brutally raped you, it's me. I saw the effect it had on my mother." She sighed and looked down at her watch. "I really have to go now if I want to catch my partner before he leaves for the kids' baseball game. Are you okay on your own?"

Dawn nodded and set her empty cup down.

Olivia rose and started for the bedroom to retrieve her gun and badge. After two steps, she stopped and turned back around. "Call me if you need to talk to someone."

APARTMENT OF

OLIVIA BENSON

117 EAST 82ND STREET

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 28

Dawn watched as Olivia prepared for her unofficial shift. As she buckled on the holster with her duty weapon and clipped her gold shield to her belt, the soft, almost vulnerable side she had shown Dawn just a few moments before seemed to disappear. The detective's face was a picture of concentration, as she was already planning her investigations.

Dawn's gaze never left the detective as Olivia crossed the room with a confident stride, one strong hand reaching for her car keys while the other grabbed the ever-present leather jacket.

There was no doubt in Dawn's mind that Olivia Benson was a good detective, a wonderful friend and an amazing person. How could any mother not be proud and love a child like her regardless of how she came to be? Then she shook her head, reprimanding herself for judging Olivia's mother. Tell me you wouldn't feel conflicted if you have a child and he or she grows up to be the spitting image of their father, even if only physically! How would you handle seeing the face of a man you hate on your own child every day?

Still deep in thought, she followed Olivia to the door. And if you decide to have an abortion, how would you handle the thought of violating your body again, killing an innocent child? A child who may have had the potential to grow up into a compassionate person; someone who helps and protects people instead of hurting them? Someone as wonderful as Olivia Benson?

Olivia held the door open for her. Side by side, they made their way to the elevator. "Come on, my car's right here," Olivia said when they left the apartment building. "Where did you park yours? I'll give you a lift over there."

Dawn nodded and slipped into the passenger seat, glad not to be left alone with her thoughts for another few minutes. She knew she'd have a lot of thinking to do in the very near future.

"There it is," Olivia said when she detected Dawn's small car down the street. She stopped next to it and turned off her ignition.

Dawn turned to her, reluctant to just say 'see you' and slip out of the car after everything the detective had done for her; after the way she had held her after her nightmare and taken care of her while she battled nausea.

She had intended for it to be just a quick hug goodbye, a little squeeze around the shoulders to show how grateful she was. But when she wrapped her arms around the detective and smelled the mixture of leather and Olivia's perfume, a scent she had come to associate with comfort and safety, the embrace lasted longer than appropriate between mere acquaintances.

A little embarrassed, Dawn pulled back and reached for the door. "Be careful," she said and got out of the car. When she closed the door behind her, it occurred to her that there was now another cop in her life that she had to worry about.

Part 7

SPECIAL VICTIMS UNIT

SQUAD ROOM

MONDAY, OCTOBER 29

When Elliot Stabler entered the squad room on Monday morning, an unexpected sight greeted him. "I could have sworn it was a stack of unfinished reports I left on my desk Saturday, but now it seems to have morphed into my sleeping partner!"

"It will take you months to get the drool marks sleeping beauty left behind off of your desk," Munch predicted.

Fin looked down at their colleague, who was sprawled across the files, reports, and photos she had laid out on her desk and Elliot's. "What's she doing here this early?"

"I assume she's indulging in every SVU detective's favorite hobby: Becoming overly involved in one of our cases," Munch commented sarcastically.

Fin nodded. "Wanna bet she spent the weekend scarin' the cleaning ladies when they came in to clean up all the donut crumbs around your desk, John?"

"They're not just donut crumbs, my friend, they're directional devices I use to find my way back to my apartment after our usual marathon shifts," Munch defended his sweet-tooth.

Elliot studied his sleeping partner. "She tried to call me yesterday and left a message on my answering machine that we may have a break in the Kinsley case, but it was already too late to call her back when we returned from visiting the in-laws."

"The Kinsley case," Munch repeated. "I may have been blowing smoke before but on a more serious note, she really is throwing herself into that case."

Elliot shrugged as casually as he could manage. He knew that Munch was right, but he didn't want to betray his partner's confidence. "Oh, come on, this is Olivia we're talking about. It's almost normal for her. I'd start to worry if she didn't become overly involved in one of her cases every now and then. We all do." Only this time, it isn't just the case she's becoming overly involved with, and that's the problem!

Olivia stirred, rubbing her eyes as she sat up. "Huh?" She blinked in the bright lights of the squad room and looked up at the three men surrounding her. "What time is it?"

"It's 7:30." Elliot sat down at Olivia's desk and swung his feet up onto the corner. "I didn't get your message until midnight. There's a break in the case? A DNA match on another rape?"

"No." Olivia stretched, combing through her short hair with one hand while the other was busy organizing the stacks of files on the two desks. "I don't think this is as random as we first thought. I think we're dealing with a hate crime here."

"Hate crime?" Elliot rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and picked up some of the files. "You mean he picked Dawn…he picks all his victims because they're…gay?" He looked at his partner doubtfully. Isn't that just wishful thinking on your part, Liv?

Apparently, Olivia could read the unvoiced question in his eyes. "It was Dawn who pointed out the parallels between her case and that of one of her patients. They're both lesbians, and the perp told them not to, and I quote, 'act as if they didn't enjoy being fucked by a real man'."

"And you think there are more than just those two cases or is this an early spring cleaning?" Munch asked, pointing to all the files.

Olivia smiled and rubbed the back of her neck which was stiff after falling asleep at the desk. "I've searched for lesbian rape victims but that's not as easy as it sounds. Many of them never call 911, and even if they do they're hesitant to come out to the detectives working the case."

"So we'll never know if there might be other victims with the same M.O.," Munch said.

"You really think I'd spend the whole night in here only to come up empty?" Olivia shook her head. "I had to dig through a whole lot of reports, and I went through hundreds of crime scene photos, but eventually I found two other women who are either lesbians or have very eclectic reading interests." She pointed to pictures of chaotic crime scenes; books, magazines and other objects scattered across the floor just like it had been in Dawn's apartment.

Elliot studied the photographs. "Could be the same M.O., but what makes you so sure the victims are lesbians?"

"This," Olivia held up a crime scene photo and pointed to one of the objects the rapist had vented his rage on, "is an issue of the New York Advocate, a lesbian magazine. And this victim," she lifted the other file, "had three dozen books in her bookcase that you would never find in your grandmother's collection, including 'The Joys of Lesbian Sex'."

Elliot clapped her lightly on the back. "Well done, partner." They both knew that discovering the motive and background of the crimes could be instrumental in leading them to the perp. He noticed that none of the other detectives asked Olivia about her vast knowledge of lesbian literature, simply accepting that she would know about such a thing.

"So we have a total of four cases with a number of similarities." Olivia looked down at her notepad. "One, the victim's a lesbian or bisexual and in her twenties or early thirties. Two, the perp breaks into the apartment at night, always between three and four a.m. Three, the perp's always described as tall, dark-haired, and muscular and four, he never wears a condom."

"What about DNA evidence?" Elliot asked hopefully. "We could at least prove that these cases are linked to each other."

Olivia sighed. "No, we can't. Dawn's patient never reported the rape, and the statue of limitations ran out last year. Victim number two, Melanie Riggs, hesitated a week before calling us and Jayne Matthews took a shower, so no DNA evidence from any of them."

Dr. George Huang entered the squad room and headed directly towards the detectives. "You called me about a case?"

"Yes." Olivia handed the files to the forensic psychiatrist. "I think you should have a look at these. We've discovered three other cases that seem to be connected to Dawn Kinsley's."

Huang read quietly, never even blinking an eye when he read about the victims' sexual orientation. "Seems like you found the reason why his attacks appeared somehow personal," he said when he looked up from the files. "We're dealing with a rapist who's expressing his hatred against lesbians through this kind of violence. That's why he never uses a condom; he wants them to experience his masculinity. In his mind, he's showing them how good 'sex' is with a man, so that they can understand what they really need and repent their 'unnatural ways'." Huang tapped the files he still held. "You're searching for a man who has been abandoned or rejected by a lesbian."

"Maybe a former girlfriend left him for a woman?" Elliot suggested.

Huang tilted his head. "That's a possibility, but if this was a one off occurrence he'd be more likely to simply take his revenge and his anger out on her instead of transferring it to other lesbians. Unless she humiliated him in public."

Fin grinned. "By standin' him up at the altar or something like that?"

"Perhaps." Huang shrugged. "But maybe we're looking at something deeper here. It's more likely that he faced repeated or more profound rejection in some form. Something happened that made him hate lesbians. He's hunting these women." The Asian-American psychiatrist studied the files again. "Were all the victims single?"

Elliot looked at his partner, who shrugged, "Uh, I think Dr. Kinsley is…I'm not sure about the others. Does it matter?

"It might. I think he might be targeting single, white lesbians in their twenties and thirties," Huang answered.

"Why singles? Does he fantasize about starting a relationship with them?" Elliot wondered.

Huang shook his head. "To him, a single lesbian is a threat; more likely than a lesbian couple to take something away from him."

"Any suggestions how we can find this nutcase?" Munch asked. "We can't very well question every man who's ever been given the old heave-ho because of another woman."

"He has probably committed some minor hate crimes…spraying homophobic slogans on front doors, harassment, assault…before he advanced to rape," Huang suggested.

Elliot shook his head. "Even if he has, it's next to impossible to find him that way. Most of the victims probably never filed charges."

Huang nodded in agreement. "He knows that most victims of hate crimes hesitate to call the police, and he exploits that. That's why he can take the chance and leave his DNA behind. I'm sure he never thought Miss Kinsley would report the rape so soon after it happened, if at all."

"How do we find him?" Olivia asked.

"You need to find his hunting grounds," Huang said. "None of the victims remembers meeting him before, so they didn't tell him their sexual orientation. There has to be a place where he sees them and can conclude their sexual orientation just from them being there…maybe a lesbian club, bar or bookstore."

Fin scratched the back of his neck. "That's a lot of places; we can't take them all under surveillance."

"Then start with the clubs and bars," Huang suggested. "Bookstores don't give him the time or opportunity to observe them and their interaction with other women. It's either a mixed gay/straight place or he works there; otherwise his continued presence would raise some red flags."

Olivia twirled her pen through her fingers. "Dawn said in her formal statement that she had come home late that night…maybe she was out in a lesbian nightclub or something…"

"Call her," Elliot ordered, "we'll try to reach the other two victims."

SPECIAL VICTIMS UNIT

SQUAD ROOM

MONDAY, OCTOBER 29

Grace Kinsley didn't ask why Olivia called or how she had known that she would find Dawn in her mother's home.

"Could I speak to Dawn or is she lying down?" Olivia asked, careful not to reveal how sick Dawn had been Sunday morning in case she hadn't told her mother about her possible pregnancy yet.

"Lying down?" Grace laughed. "No, she's up and running around my kitchen like some dervish! I think she was even able to sleep a little the last few nights."

Olivia held her breath for a moment, waiting for further comments, but they didn't come. Apparently, Dawn hadn't told her mother were she had slept Saturday night.

"Here she is now." Grace gave the phone to her daughter.

"Detective?" Dawn sounded out of breath from 'running around the kitchen', Olivia assumed.

"Hi," Olivia greeted, hesitant to interrupt the good mood the younger woman was in. "How are you?"

"A lot better," Dawn said. It sounded sincere. "And officially not pregnant! My doctor said it was probably just all this stress and tension I've been under and the emergency contraceptives that threw my cycle off and upset my stomach."

Olivia almost dropped the phone. She hadn't been prepared for that particular personal revelation. "Wow! That's…good news, isn't it?"

"Yes." Dawn's voice was a whisper. "I think it is. It spared me from having to make a decision that I really didn't feel up to making."

Olivia cleared her throat, not knowing what else she should say on the topic. "Listen…there's something I need to ask you. You said that you had been out and came home late that Saturday night…was it by any chance a lesbian club or bar you'd been to?"

"Yes! How did you know…do you have a new lead? Do you know who…?"

"Calm down," Olivia ordered, not unsympathetic to Dawn's excitement. She felt her own adrenaline rising at the thought of catching the perp. "You know I can't talk to you about the specifics of the case. We'll tell you when we know for sure, okay? Now, can you give me the address of that club?"

RAINBOWS

73 GANSEVOORT STREET

MONDAY, OCTOBER 29

Olivia leaned back in the passenger seat of the sedan, sipping her coffee and watching the people in front of the club.

"How are we going to play this?" Elliot asked from the driver's seat. "Looks like it's not a mixed gay/straight club, so I can't go in undercover." They had only seen women heading into the club. "Or do you think I could pass as a lesbian?" Elliot fluffed his short hair and grinned.

Olivia backhanded him across the chest. "No, you can't, smart-ass. But maybe I could, if I try hard enough, huh?" She winked.

Elliot laughed. "Who's the smart-ass now?"

"How about you flash the badge at the backdoor and ask to speak to the manager while I stand in line like a good little lesbian and keep an eye on any man I encounter in there?" Olivia suggested.

Elliot hesitated. "I don't like this, Liv. If you go in there as a customer, you could become a target."

"And if I go in there as a cop, we won't get the answers we're after," Olivia said. "Besides, him coming after me might be a good thing."

"Okay." Elliot sighed and checked his weapon one last time. "We'll do it your way."

Olivia waited until he had crossed the parking lot and disappeared behind the building before she got out of the car. She strolled towards the front door and joined the back of the line. She looked around as she waited, pressing her right elbow against the gun hidden under her half-open leather jacket so no one in the waiting crowd could detect or try to grab it. Through the open door, she could see into the club, but the blinding strobe lights that flashed across the large dance floor and a thick wall of smoke made it hard to see clearly, but she could tell that it was already crowded inside. Olivia was a little concerned about that.

She was almost sure now that the rapist had spotted Dawn and the other victims here. The smoke and beer Dawn had smelled on him told her that the rapist had been in the club, perhaps as one of the male bartenders she could detect behind the three bars covering the walls.

Olivia had reached the front of the line and glanced up in disbelief when the bouncer asked for some form of ID. She hadn't gotten carded in many years; no one could mistake her for a twenty year old.

"You're holding up the line, lady!" the bouncer pressed.

Olivia looked up into the annoyed face and froze. In front of her stood the man who had raped Dawn Kinsley and at least three other women. There was no doubt in Olivia's mind. The police sketch artist couldn't have gotten his picture any better if he had sat for his portrait. Dawn had described him to the last little detail like the scars on his chin and above one eyebrow. The bouncer! Of course! He cards them to get their addresses! That way, he doesn't even have to follow them, but can wait until the club closes and his shift ends.

"Hey! If you don't want in, step aside!" he barked at her.

Olivia hesitated, but knew she couldn't arrest him without an arrest warrant and without her partner as a backup. She mumbled something about forgetting her ID and returned to the car.

Elliot came back five minutes later. "Liv!" he hissed when she leaned across and opened the driver's side door for him. "Where have you been? I thought you wanted to look around?"

"One look was all I needed," Olivia answered. "We have the bastard, Elliot!" She pointed to the only male figure in front of the club.

"The bouncer?" Elliot's eyes widened. He looked down at the papers he had in his hands. "When I told the manager we could come back with a bunch of uniformed officers to search his club and interview his customers he was friendly enough to give me a list of his employees. The bouncer's name is…" Elliot looked down at the document. "…Gary Ballard."

Olivia reached for her cell phone and pressed the speed dial for Alex's home. "Alex? Hi, it's Olivia. Sorry to interrupt you at home, but we need an arrest warrant. Right now would be great."

"On who?"

Olivia looked down at the club's payroll Elliot held out for her. "One Gary – or Garett – Ballard. He's the man who raped Dawn Kinsley and three other women, at least that we know of."

"Allegedly raped," Alex corrected.

Olivia was not in the mood for defendant-friendly political correctness. "Yes, he allegedly broke into their homes, allegedly held them down at gun point, and allegedly raped them. Come on, Alex. I know he did it. I'm looking at him right now. He matches the police sketch to a T, and he works in the club all victims frequented as a bouncer, so he had easy access to their addresses!"

"Okay." Alex had worked with Olivia and her partner long enough to trust their word and know they had probable cause for a warrant. "I'll go and make myself unpopular with one of the judges, and then meet you at that club."

Relieved, Olivia gave her the address. "Alex is on her way with a warrant," she said when she put down her cell phone.

They sat in the car without speaking, never letting the suspect out of their sight. It was a very long hour until Alex arrived and handed Olivia the folded blue document.

Trading one last quick glance with her partner, Olivia unsnapped the catch on her holster and strode towards the club's entrance again, this time without patiently standing in line first.

When the bouncer saw her coming, he smirked. "Finally found the ID, huh?"

"Yes, in fact I did. Good enough for you?" With a sneer that matched the bouncer's, Olivia opened her leather jacket wider to reveal the gold shield now clipped to her belt. "Mister Ballard, you are under arrest for—"

"Bitch!"

The fist that connected with her face interrupted Olivia's reading of his Miranda rights.

"Hey!" Elliot sprang forward, drawing his gun. "Don't move! Hands above your head! Liv, you okay?"

"Yeah." Olivia regained her balance and pulled her gun from its holster, aiming it at Gary Ballard. For a second, she almost wished he would attack her again and give her a reason to use it.

"Put your hands on the wall!" Elliot patted down their suspect and drew a gun from the back of Ballard's jeans.

"A Glock?" Olivia asked, touching the left side of her face. It hurt, but she was determined not to give Gary Ballard the triumph of letting it show.

Elliot shook his head and pocketed the weapon. "SIG Sauer." He snapped his handcuffs around Ballard's wrists, not bothering to be gentle when he tightened them. "Wanna try again for the Miranda, now that we have Mr. Ballard's undivided attention?"

Olivia nodded. Her jaw hurt but she wouldn't miss this for all the pain in the world. "Garett Ballard, you are under arrest for the rape of Dawn Kinsley, Melanie Riggs, and Jayne Matthews. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney and to have that attorney present during any questioning. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand these rights?"

Gary Ballard spat in her direction.

"Looks like he does," Elliot commented and dragged him towards the car.

MANHATTAN COMMUNITY COLLEGE

207 WEST STREET

MONDAY, OCTOBER 29

Olivia was sitting on the steps leading to the sports hall where Dawn's self-defense course was being held.

Finally, the door opened and a stream of women began to file out of the building. Dawn was the last one out, one hand holding onto the strap of the backpack she had slung over her shoulder, while the other gesticulated to the two women she was talking to.

Dawn quickly said goodbye to her companions when she saw Olivia sitting there. "Hi," she greeted, surprise clearly written on her face. "Are you waiting for me?" She sat down on the steps next to Olivia.

Olivia nodded. "Your mother said I'd find you here. How's the self-defense class going?"

"Great! I think it'll really help. I've even forced myself to leave the house after dark. It's…" Dawn stopped when she got her first good look at Olivia's face. "Oh my God! What happened to you? Maybe you should go right in and sign up for a refresher course!" She reached out a hand to touch Olivia's face. It was swollen and discolored around the left side of her jaw.

Olivia grabbed the hand before it could reach her face, held it for a few moments, and then awkwardly let go. She wasn't sure how she'd react to Dawn's touch. "It's nothing."

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Standard police answer for everything from a paper cut to a chest wound!"

Olivia smiled through her hurting jaw. "I'm fine, really." She was silent for a few moments, not knowing how to start. "Dawn, we arrested someone tonight."

"What?" Dawn grabbed Olivia's forearm. Her whole body seemed to vibrate. "You caught him? Are you sure it's him?"

"Easy, easy!" Gently, Olivia pried the fingers from her arm. "I can't tell you that, you have to tell us. If I influenced you in any way, the line-up would be inadmissible in court."

"Another line-up…" Dawn bit her lip.

"Yes."

Dawn looked up at her. "For the last time?"

Olivia laughed. "Don't think I didn't notice you asking me if it's him only in different words!"

Dawn smiled ruefully and stood. "I can't get anything past you, can I? Okay, let's get it over with."

SPECIAL VICTIMS UNIT

OBSERVATION ROOM

MONDAY, OCTOBER 29

Elliot leaned against the edge of the table, crossing his arms as he waited for the six men in the line-up to be led into the adjourning room. Normally, he would have stepped up to the one-way mirror to flank Dawn on the side his partner didn't occupy. But as he read this victim's body language, he saw that with Olivia by her side Dawn was as comfortable as she could be being only one room away from the man suspected of raping her.

He looked at Olivia, reading her protective stance as easily as he would his own in a mirror. What is it between those two? Elliot wondered. He had seen his partner show a total disinterest in women – and men – who had been more attractive, wealthier and a whole lot less complicated than Dawn Kinsley.

Elliot's thoughts were interrupted when a police officer opened the door to the adjourning room and a line of six men filed into the room. "Do you recognize any of these men?" Elliot asked when they had all taken their positions.

Dawn didn't even hesitate for a second. "Number four."

Bingo! Elliot directed a triumphant smile at the defense attorney Gary Ballard had immediately hired. "Where do you recognize him from?"

"He's the man who broke into my apartment and raped me," Dawn said clearly. Her gaze never wavered, never turned away from the one-way glass.

While the other two victims hadn't been as sure, Elliot knew that this positive identification was above reproach.

Alex nodded in the direction of Dawn and the detectives, before she turned on her heels and strode out of the room, tossing a "See you at the arraignment, Mister D'Aquino" over her shoulder.

The defense lawyer grimaced and followed her out of the room.

Dawn turned away from the one-way glass. "I picked the right one, didn't I? It's him."

Olivia nodded.

Dawn sank down onto the edge of the table. "What now?"

"Now you go home and let us worry about burying him in evidence." Olivia directed her to the door with one hand lightly resting on her elbow. "You can sleep tonight, knowing that he's enjoying our hospitality."

SPECIAL VICTIMS UNIT

INTERROGATION ROOM

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 30

Olivia stared at the man sitting at the small table across from her. They had been at this for hours, but still no confession from Gary Ballard. His lawyer was earning his money by sitting there and examining his fingernails with bored interest.

"So, let me sum up the vast information your client has given us in the last four hours: He's as innocent as a newborn babe," Olivia said, getting impatient with the relaxed suspect.

"Got that right, Officer." Gary Ballard flashed a smile at her.

Elliot, who had leant against the wall behind Ballard, stepped forward and leaned over his shoulder. "It's Detective, but I guess that's really hard for you to remember seeing as how you couldn't even remember ever meeting Dawn Kinsley, Melanie Riggs or Jayne Matthews. Maybe the results of the DNA test we're running on your blood sample will refresh your memory, huh?"

Gary Ballard shrugged coolly. "Maybe I did meet them, maybe I didn't. Never heard their names, though. You know how it is with one-night stands; you don't stay around long enough to learn the life story."

One-night stands? For a few seconds, Olivia couldn't hear anything else Ballard said; the blood was rushing through her ears too loudly. She clenched her teeth until her jaw began to hurt again.

In the adjacent observation room, Dr. George Huang stepped back from the one-way mirror and shook his head. "He's not going to give us anything. Not like this."

Alex, who was watching the interview next to him, nodded in agreement. It didn't take a degree in psychology to see that the interrogation was going nowhere. "Should I tell my detectives not to waste their time with him?"

"No." Huang turned and looked into Alex's eyes. It always amused her a little that he had to look up to do so, and she wondered if there was a Freudian complex that matched the situation. "I want you to go in there."

"Me?" Alex was skeptical. "If two experienced detectives can't get him to agree on the time of day, I hardly think that I'll scare him into talking."

Huang just smiled. "It's not fear I'm after, it's anger and hate, which seem to be his most dominant emotions. He's confident and cocky, but he's not dumb. He won't give us anything as long as he's able to control his anger. We know it's there; just think about the way he hit his victims and destroyed every symbol of lesbianism in sight. His anger is always lurking just under the surface; we only have to trigger it and get him to lash out, like he did at Detective Benson when she arrested him."

Alex had to admit that it sounded reasonable. If Ballard lost his cool, maybe he would let some details slip that she could use against him in court. "How do we do that? Short of going in there and slapping him in the face, what can I do to provoke his anger?"

A grim smile formed on the psychiatrist's lips. "You have to grab him by the balls."

"I hope you mean that in a figurative sense," Alex murmured.

"You have to hit him in his weak spot and reject his manhood, his masculinity," Huang explained. "His motive, the whole reason why he commits those rapes is the urgent need to validate his masculinity and to prove his superiority."

Alex shrugged. "Why is that so urgent for him?"

"Not only does he hate lesbians, I suspect that deep inside, he fears that he might have inherited the 'gay gene' from his mother. He has to have total control over a woman, a homosexual woman, to counter these fears," Huang said. "If you take away that control, his superiority, he has to do something to reestablish it."

"How do I do that?"

Huang ticked it off on his fingers. "First, you send Elliot out of the room – and don't be nice about it; order him around as though men are inferior."

Alex grinned. "No problem; I can do that. What's next?"

"You ignore Ballard for as long as you can get away with it," Huang said.

Alex raised an eyebrow. "What do I do instead? There aren't exactly a lot of distractions in there." She pointed to the bare, sterile interrogation room.

"Detective Benson is in there," Huang pointed out, his dark eyes twinkling. "You pay attention to her – only her. Look at her, smile at her, touch her. Give Ballard the impression that you're more than colleagues. He can't stand it if two women only have eyes for each other and don't spare him even a fleeting glance. If you ignore him in favor of a woman, especially a woman he thinks might be a lesbian, he has to do something to get your attention."

Alex stared at him for a moment, but she had to admit that his plan certainly seemed logical. "Shouldn't we explain the plan to Detective Benson first, if we expect her to play the role of my lesbian lover?"

The Asian-American psychiatrist smiled his mysterious smile. "No, that would grant Ballard a breather that we don't want to give him. I'm sure Detective Benson is experienced enough to play the game and improvise if you give her the right cues."

"Okay, let's do it." Alex squared her shoulders and strode out of the room.

SPECIAL VICTIMS UNIT

INTERROGATION ROOM

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 30

Olivia glanced up when the door opened and Alex entered without a knock.

The A.D.A. didn't look at Ballard or his lawyer. She gave Elliot a curt nod. "You're needed elsewhere, Detective," she told him in the condescending tone that was normally reserved for low-life criminals, "doing something more important than this." She pointed at Ballard, and her facial expression seemed to add 'like scraping chewing gun off the underside of your desk'.

Elliot lived with four females; he knew when it was safer for him to leave the room.

Olivia had just started to speculate about the source of Alex's bad mood when the A.D.A. turned to her. A warm smile lit up her features. "Hi, Liv." Her voice was an intimate purr.

Liv? To Olivia's knowledge, Alex had never called her by that nickname. She watched with growing astonishment as Alex perched on the edge of the table directly in front of her, turning her back on Ballard and his lawyer. Olivia's eyes were involuntarily drawn downward, to the long, slender legs when the suit skirt slid up and revealed more of them than usual.

Instead of addressing Ballard, Alex leaned forward, her body almost touching Olivia's, and began to chat. "So, Liv, how have you been since this morning?"

Since this morning?! Alex knew as well as she did that they hadn't seen each other that morning. Puzzled by the A.D.A.'s behavior, she studied her face. What the hell is going on here, Alex? Then her gaze fell on Ballard, and suddenly she understood what Alex was trying to do.

For the first time since his arrest, Garett Ballard's face showed something other than cool arrogance. His eyes were glowing with an almost unnatural rage.

"Sadly, the day didn't continue as exciting as it began, Counselor," Olivia answered. She let her voice caress the last word, making it sound like a lover's pet name. "Just sitting around, wasting my time listening to a bragging liar."

Alex half-turned towards Ballard, as if noticing him for the first time. Her cool gaze slid up and down his body, and then turned back to Olivia, dismissing him. "What's he lying and bragging about?" she asked Olivia, as if Ballard wasn't sitting right there.

"He's claiming to have slept with three lesbians."

Again, Alex turned. She looked at Ballard with an pitying smile. "I can hardly believe he slept with three women in his life, much less three lesbians."

Ballard sprang up. His chair clattered to the floor. "You fucking dykes! I should—"

"Mister Ballard!" Victor D'Aquino, his lawyer, dragged him back from the table and the two women behind it.

"Get your hands off me!" Ballard towered angrily over his attorney. "I'm going to show—"

"Garett! Don't say another word! Sit down, and don't open your mouth again, no matter what they say. They're only trying to provoke you." He straightened the chair and drew the red faced, glowering Ballard onto it.

Shit! Olivia traded disappointed glances with Alex. They both knew that his lawyer had successfully prevented Ballard from incriminating himself; they wouldn't get anything else out of him now. It might not have been a total waste though. There was still the trial to think about, and if Garett Ballard could be provoked once, they could do it again.

A knock on the door got Olivia's attention. Roughly, she pushed her chair back from the table, signaling Alex to leave the room with her.

Elliot slipped past them into the interrogation room, determined to try another tactic.

Out in the hallway, Olivia drew a few deep breaths.

John Munch studied her silently. "Mister Ballard still exercising his Fifth Amendment rights?"

"For the most part." Olivia nodded grimly. "He's a smart little bastard; he's denying he knew their names or addresses, but admits a remote possibility that they may have been 'one-night stands', just in case DNA results come back positive. Got anything from the lab?"

"Fresh from the press." Munch held up a piece of paper as they headed towards the squad room. "Mister Ballard's blood sample is a perfect match to the semen from the rape kit done on Dawn Kinsley. And the prints found in her apartment are his, too."

Olivia nodded in satisfaction. While that didn't disprove his allegations of a one-night stand, it was a start, making it impossible for him to deny any knowledge of the victims. "Did you check if there are any guns registered in his name?"

"The SIG," Munch confirmed. "He's got a permit for it."

"No Glock? Damn."

Alex's heels echoed down the hallway as she caught up with them. "No worries, Detectives," she said. She showed them her shark-like lawyer smile. "That'll give us a reason to search for it in his apartment."

Olivia looked up hopefully. "We have enough for a search warrant, right?"

"With the DNA match, a positive identification in a line-up plus motive and access, we have enough for Judge Ridenour to offer to search the apartment himself!" Alex emphasized.

Olivia smiled. "No, thanks, I think I'd rather do it myself; his signature will suffice."

Elliot came out of the interrogation room.

"Did he cop to anything?" Olivia asked.

"No, I just left to petition the Pope to confer sainthood on Mr. Ballard since he's such an innocent," Elliot commented dryly.

Chuckling, Olivia shook her head. "Canonization will have to wait; we have an apartment to search. Alex said she can get us a warrant for Ballard's apartment."

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" Elliot pointed over his shoulder, further down the hallway, where they would have more privacy.

Olivia followed him. "What is it?"

"Why don't you take a nap up in the crib and let John and Fin search Ballard's apartment?" Elliot suggested.

"What?" Olivia turned so she was facing him fully, going into confrontation mode. "What is this crap, Elliot? I don't need a nap, not when we're this close to—"

"What you're this close to is either a breakdown or another complaint in your personnel file!" Elliot stared at her. "You haven't really slept since Sunday, and it's not only the lack of sleep that's affecting you. You're emotionally involved in this case."

Olivia fixed him with an angry glare. "Now wait a minute, Stabler! If memory serves me correctly it was you who told me just a few weeks ago that it was okay if I got to know Dawn! It was you who told me not to give it up!"

"Yes." Elliot nodded calmly. "I did tell you that, because I could see that there was only one person who could help Dawn through this, but there's more than one person who's able to search his apartment!"

Olivia ground her teeth. She knew he was right but was loath to admit it and leave this case in anyone else's hands.

"Liv," Elliot said, a lot gentler now, "I know you never behaved improperly towards Dawn, but you and she…you've become friends, and if the defense attorney learns about that he'll try to use it against us. Even the appearance of impropriety could hurt the case, you know that."

"Okay, okay…" Olivia rubbed her neck and sighed. "I'll stay out of it."

Elliot nodded and turned to inform Munch of the change in plans.

"Elliot?" Olivia called, waiting until she looked into her partner's compassionate eyes. "Thanks for looking out for me."

He smiled. "Hey, that's what partners are for: reminding you to sleep, eat your vegetables, and keep a healthy emotional distance."

"Well," Olivia returned the smile and caught up with him, "two out of three ain't bad."

Part 8

ARRAIGNMENT COURT

PART 47

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 31

"Next case."

Olivia slipped into the courtroom where the arraignments were held just as Judge Stenton banged his gavel. Dawn's case was number fifteen on today's docket, so she knew it would be a while before the case was called. She wanted to seek out one of the free seats in the back row of the courtroom, but Alex waved her to the front.

"Sit in the first row, please," Alex whispered to her. "Can't hurt for Judge Stenton to see the gigantic bruise on your jaw."

Olivia grimaced, but then had to smile. "Thanks a lot for the compassion, Counselor."

Alex shrugged. "I've got no choice but to use what I have."

"Bad news?" Olivia furrowed her brow.

"Munch did some background on Ballard. Seems his grandparents left him a nice amount of money. If I can't get Stenton to decide on remand, he'll be out before lunch. Unfortunately, Stenton likes to release defendants on their own recognizance or set minimum bail," Alex told her.

Shit. Olivia turned her head, pointing her colorful jaw in the judge's direction. "The grandparents?"

"Looks like they disinherited their daughter when she left the family to move in with her female lover," Alex said.

Olivia raised a brow. "So, Huang was right, huh? At least in part; it wasn't a girlfriend but his mother who left him for a woman."

"Docket number 79608, the People versus Garett Ballard," the bailiff called out, interrupting their conversation. "The charges are three counts rape in the first degree, three counts possession of stolen property, one count criminal possession of a weapon in the fourth degree, one count resisting arrest, and one count aggravated assault on a police officer."

Alex is going after him with both barrels. Olivia smiled. The search of Ballard's apartment had brought to light not only a Glock 17, but also various bracelets, key-ring pendants, and pins with symbols of lesbianism that Ballard had taken away from his victims as a trophy.

"Victor D'Aquino for the Defense, Your Honor," the defense attorney announced.

Alex stood up when an officer led Ballard in front of the judge. "Alexandra Cabot, representing the People."

"Is the defendant ready to enter a plea?" Judge Stenton asked.

Ballard's lawyer nodded. "Yes. Not guilty on all counts, Your Honor."

The judge turned towards Alex. "Recommendations on bail, Miss Cabot?"

"Your Honor, the People request remand," Alex said with a stern expression. "The defendant has no significant ties to the community, and we just learned that he has the financial means to flee the jurisdiction of this court. The risk of flight is blatant."

"If it pleases the court, we ask that the defendant be released on his own recognizance," Victor D'Aquino objected. "My client has no prior criminal convictions; he's lived in the area for the last six years and holds down a steady job. He's not a flight risk."

"A job which provides him with continuing access to his victims," Alex pointed out.

The defense attorney raised his index finger. "Alleged victims. Your Honor, my client has a spotless record, not even a traffic ticket!"

"Your client isn't charged with a parking offense!" Alex countered. "The defendant has brutally raped and beaten four women!"

"My client is a first time offender; remand is ridiculous!"

Judge Stenton nodded. "Hold your horses, Mister D'Aquino. While I'm loath to order remand on all cases other than homicides, I must agree with Miss Cabot that the defendant does pose a flight risk. Bail is set at $200,000, payable in cash or bond." He raised his gavel.

"Your Honor," Alex interjected, "the People request No Contact as a condition of bail."

Stenton looked down at his files. "So ordered. Mister Ballard, you cannot have any form of contact with Miss Riggs, Miss Matthews or Miss Kinsley. That includes in person, by phone, by letter or through a third party. In addition, for the duration of this trial, you will no longer be an employee of the Rainbows club. If you violate this order, I'll be very happy to revoke your bail. Is that understood?"

While a almost bored looking Gary Ballard just shrugged, his lawyer answered for him: "Yes, Your Honor."

"Next case." The gavel banged, and the court clerk began to read out the next charges.

Olivia slipped from the room and waited outside until Alex had shouldered her briefcase.

"Sorry," Alex said when she caught up with the detective, "I had a feeling Stenton would deny remand. At least we've gotten him away from the club so he can't scout for new victims there."

Olivia suppressed a sigh. She wasn't looking forward to telling Dawn that her rapist had been set free for the time being. "Good thinking on the no-contact order," she tried to console the A.D.A. Not that it'll do us any good. A man who brutally attacks and rapes defenseless women is not very likely to be impressed with a simple court order. Hmm…maybe I can get the Captain to assign a protective detail to Dawn and the others…

"Miss Cabot?" Victor D'Aquino, the defense attorney, called from behind them. "One minute of your time, please. I'd like to discuss a deal."

Olivia watched as Alex stepped away from her and began to talk to Ballard's lawyer. A deal? Alex, no! No deal for this bastard!

"I'm not interested in a plea bargain, Mister D'Aquino."

Yes! Olivia resisted the sudden urge to stick out her tongue at the defense attorney.

"Come on, Counselor, spare the taxpayers the expense of a trial, yourself the public humiliation of a loss, and the alleged victims the cross-exam. It's a he said/she said on the rapes, and you know I'll take them apart on the stand," D'Aquino threatened. "You've got no eyewitnesses, no prior record, and no confession. You've got nothing."

Olivia felt her throat constrict at the thought of Dawn being mercilessly questioned on the witness stand, having to relive the rape again and again. Maybe a deal isn't such a bad idea after all…

"I wouldn't call DNA evidence 'nothing', Mister D'Aquino," Alex said coolly.

The defense attorney shrugged. "My client admits he had sexual relations with Miss Kinsley – it was consensual. So, how about a deal?"

Consensual? Yeah, right! Lying bastard! Olivia changed her opinion on a deal again.

"You want a deal, Mr. D'Aquino? Here's a deal for you: He pleads to the rapes and the assault, and I'll drop the other charges," Alex offered.

"That's laughable, Miss Cabot. The other charges are mere misdemeanors! Take the felonies off the table," D'Aquino demanded.

Alex held his gaze. "I could charge your client with a hate crime since he selected his victims based on their sexual orientation. That would add another five years to his sentence."

Victor D'Aquino hesitated. "Sexual misconduct, he does six months."

"You mean he's admitting he did something wrong? No deal, Mr. D'Aquino. Garett Ballard is a menace to this city, and I'm going to put him behind bars. See you in court." Alex strode away without another word.

Olivia grinned and watched Alex stride away. I think that was the Alex Cabot version of 'Kiss my ass'!

"Hey, Liv!" Elliot climbed the stairs to the court building just as Olivia walked out the front entrance. "Arraignment over already? How'd it go?"

"Stenton was handling arraignments today," Olivia answered.

They began to make their way back to the station side by side. "Damn. That means Ballard's out on bail, doesn't it?"

Olivia nodded. "Afraid so. The judge issued a No Contact order but we all know that this won't impress a law abiding citizen like Mister Ballard."

Elliot stopped for a moment and studied her. "You're worried about Dawn, huh?"

"I'm worried about all of them," Olivia emphasized, "Miss Matthews and Miss Riggs, too."

Elliot smiled. "Don't bother to hide it, I know that you worry about Dawn most of all."

"She's the one who's most endangered since she's not only his most recent victim but the only one who could indisputably ID him and the only one we have any DNA on," Olivia told Elliot, and herself, in an attempt to make her worries sound professional and logical. "If Ballard can prevent her from testifying and we have to rely on the others, the case will be pretty shaky."

"So, what are we gonna do?"

Olivia smiled at him, grateful for the support the simple 'we' showed. "Maybe we can get the Captain to detail a few uniforms or two detectives to watch Dawn's building at night."

SPECIAL VICTIMS UNIT

CAPTAIN CRAGEN'S OFFICE

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 31

"Forget it, you two," Cragen said with vigor.

Elliot had already expected this answer, but his partner didn't seem ready to give up.

Olivia stepped closer to his desk. "But Captain, Miss Kinsley—"

"I know that she would sleep better at night if she had a unit at her front door; we all would, but I can't spare the people," the Captain explained. "Most of my people are already doing maximum overtime – including you!"

"If we could just put one unit on her for a few nights…," Olivia tried again.

Cragen shook his bald head. "Miss Kinsley is in no concrete danger. Ballard didn't threaten her in any way; he doesn't even know her new address!" He looked between his two detectives, and then fixed his gaze on Olivia. "Is there something going on here that I'm not aware of? What's so special about this case when you have three dozen others waiting for you? Miss Kinsley isn't a friend of yours or something, is she?"

Liv's shoulders drooped. "No, not really," she mumbled.

That's not a lie, Elliot thought, but it sure as hell isn't the truth either.

Cragen seemed to sense it as well. The gaze of his hazel eyes drilled through her.

Sometimes, Elliot was equally astonished and impressed that the captain always knew what went on in his squad room, even when he spent most of his time in his own office.

"Olivia, I don't want anything to compromise this case. There can be no conflicts of interest," Cragen warned. "I like for my detectives to show some zeal and compassion for the victims, but you can't hurt your credibility by becoming too emotionally involved."

I know that, Olivia knows that, but at this point, does she really have a choice? Elliot wondered. If she tries to distance herself from Dawn, it would rob Dawn of what little safety she has at the moment. She would be insecure, confused…maybe even angry. It could affect her testimony and hurt the case as badly as any further involvement Liv has with her.

"I met Miss Kinsley, and while I'm sure she would make a good friend," Cragen continued, making Elliot wonder if he suspected the true nature of Olivia's interest in Dawn Kinsley, "there are plenty of other fish in the sea."

Yes, there are, Elliot thought. Problem is, it's this little goldfish that she likes, not some other scaly creature.

Olivia pressed her lips together. "Come on, Elliot, let's go back to work. There are three dozen other cases waiting."

SPECIAL VICTIMS UNIT

SQUAD ROOM

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 31

"Want me to call her?" Elliot offered.

Olivia looked up. She knew exactly who her partner was speaking of. "Nice of you to offer, but I think I'll do it myself."

"Okay." Elliot wandered off in the direction of the coffee machine to give Olivia some privacy.

Olivia glanced at her watch. She should be back from having lunch with her mother, and it's still two hours until self-defense class starts. She grabbed the phone, and then stopped and shook her head at herself when she became aware of the fact that she already knew Dawn's daily routine by heart. Shoving the unwelcome revelation back into the deepest recesses of her mind, she dialed Dawn's new home number. "Hey, Dawn, it's—"

"I know your voice by now, Detective," Dawn interrupted. Olivia imagined, from the sound of her voice, that the psychologist was smiling. "How are you?"

"Um…" Olivia was thrown off balance by Dawn's friendliness, not prepared for the simple question when all she was thinking about was how she could tell Dawn that her rapist was free again without scaring her to death. "I'm fine," she finally managed to say. "How are you?"

"Hanging in there, telling myself that it'll all be over soon – at least the trial part of it," Dawn answered.

"Yeah…about that, Dawn…" Olivia rubbed the back of her neck. "Ballard was arraigned this morning."

Dawn exhaled. It sounded like a sigh of relief. "Good."

"Not entirely, I'm afraid." Olivia had to bust her bubble. "There are enough charges to put him away for a long, long time if we win, but we had a little bad luck with the arraignment judge…he set him free on bail."

"He's free?" Dawn repeated. Disbelief colored her voice.

Olivia had to clear her throat. "Yes."

"But he's the right one this time! I'm sure of it. I'll swear on a stack of bibles that he's the one who raped me!"

"I know it's him; no one is doubting your identification," Olivia soothed. "But the judge at arraignment doesn't decide over guilt or innocence, he just makes the decision about bail. Listen…why don't you think about leaving the city until the trial starts?"

A moment of silence at the other end of the line. "No. I won't run away. Ballard has already taken away enough of my life; I won't let him interrupt it again."

Olivia could understand that. "Okay, but how about moving in with your mother for a few days?"

"No."

Olivia sighed. "Dawn, we don't have the resources to protect you should he try to find you."

"I suppose I could stay at my mother's for a while, but she won't even be home until the day after tomorrow. She's in Philadelphia because my grandmother's in the hospital," Dawn explained.

"Oh. I'm sorry." Olivia didn't know what to say. She was unaccustomed to family emergencies because it had always been just her mother and her.

"It's nothing too bad," Dawn said. "She'll be back at her beloved poker night in no time."

Olivia had to smile as a picture of an older version of Dawn appeared before her mind's eye. "I don't suppose you'd consider staying with your ex for a few days?" He was a police officer, too, and one that wasn't expected to keep an emotional distance.

"Which one?" Dawn quipped.

"Huh?"

"Which ex?"

Olivia waited a few moments until she was sure she could answer without stuttering. She was curious, but didn't want to think about any other men or women that Dawn might have been in a relationship with. "Your ex-husband. You've only got one of those, haven't you?"

"One's more than enough, thank you very much, and no, I won't stay with him. I still haven't recovered from living under the same roof with him when we were married," Dawn joked. "Don't worry, Detective, I'll be fine on my own."

Olivia had no choice but to give up. It seemed they were evenly matched with regard to their stubbornness. "All right, but promise that you'll call me immediately if you get scared or see something suspicious."

"I will. Thank you."

Olivia said goodbye and hung up.

Elliot handed her a cup of coffee. "How is she?"

"Stubborn and trying to be brave, but I think she's pretty scared."

"The chances that he'll find her – if he even tries to – are very slim," Elliot tried to comfort her.

Olivia bit her lip. "Any chance at all, even if it's slim, is too much."

APARTMENT OF

DAWN KINSLEY

7 BENSON STREET

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 31

Olivia shivered and wrapped her hands tighter around her cup of coffee. The warmth in her car had begun to dissipate long ago, and she didn't want to call attention to herself by letting the engine run, but at least everything was quiet in the neighborhood.

When a tall figure appeared at the end of the street, Olivia put the paper cup down and unclipped her holster. She rested her right hand on the gun as the stranger walked towards her.

She couldn't see his face in the darkness, but something about the way he moved seemed familiar to Olivia. She shifted a little so that the steering wheel wouldn't get in the way if she had to draw her gun. Finally, the man stepped under a street light, and she could see his face. "Elliot!" She let go of her gun and opened the door for him. "What are you doing here?!"

Elliot strolled up to the car and leaned against the open door. "Same as you, it would seem."

"Let me guess, you were in the neighborhood and decided to enjoy the view at this lovely dead-end street for a while." Being 'in the neighborhood' was Elliot's specialty when it came to his discreet attempts to protect her.

"Actually, I stopped by to remind you of rule number one." Elliot rounded the car and slid into the passenger seat, setting a thermos full of coffee down on the dashboard.

Olivia raised an eyebrow. "And that would be?"

"No surveillance without backup," Elliot said seriously. "You're a cop, not a one-woman army."

Olivia looked down at the steering wheel. She knew he was right. "I didn't want to drag you into this. You won't get paid for it, and if the captain ever gets wind of this, he'll probably make us walk the beat and write up parking tickets for the rest of the year."

The chirping sound of Olivia's cell phone interrupted whatever Elliot was about to say. Giving him a quick glance, she pulled the cell phone from her belt. "Benson."

"Detective? Hi, it's Dawn Kinsley…I'm really sorry to disturb you, but…"

"Dawn, hi." Olivia looked up at the still brightly lit window on the fifth floor of the building and tried to imagine what Dawn was doing right now. "Is everything all right?"

"I'm probably just being hyper nervous but there's a car parked right in front of my apartment building. It's been there for hours. It's too dark to really see, but I think there's someone sitting in it, watching the building," Dawn explained, her hastily spoken words betraying her fear.

Olivia looked around. There was no one sitting in a car, except for her and Elliot. "God, I'm sorry!" she groaned. Instead of protecting Dawn, she had scared her even further. "Dawn, you don't have to be afraid, that's me."

"You?"

A figure appeared in the fifth floor window, and Olivia turned on the light in the car and waved.

"What are you doing in front of my apartment at 10 p.m.?" Dawn asked, the fear now replaced with surprise.

Olivia tugged at her bottom lip. "I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd drive by and make sure everything's all right," she tried Elliot's old excuse.

"So, you've been 'driving by' for two hours, with your engine turned off?" The excuse didn't work any better for her than it had for Elliot.

"Well, with the price of gas, I decided to do a poor man's drive by instead."

Elliot laughed beside her and began to cough when she shot him a glare.

"Come on up," Dawn invited.

Olivia shook her head, even if Dawn couldn't see it. "No."

"Come on up, Detective," Dawn repeated patiently.

"No, really, we're quite comfortable down here. We even have coffee." Olivia had bargained with herself to sit in front of Dawn's apartment building so she could protect her and still keep the emotional distance that was expected of her.

But Dawn was relentless. "I don't care if you have a whole Starbucks store in the car; I want you to come up."

"Dawn…" Olivia pinched the bridge of her nose.

Elliot laughed again. "God, the woman's more stubborn than my mother-in-law! Can you imagine being married to her?!"

Olivia could, and that was the problem. She felt so drawn towards Dawn that she was in a constant internal debate with herself. She was determined not to cross the line she had always kept between her personal and professional life. She would never allow herself to become involved with Dawn while her case was still open, but sometimes, she found herself thinking about the time after the trial was over. And that scared her because she had never planned for the future in any of her relationships with another woman.

"You're here to keep me safe and make me feel better, right?" Dawn argued when Olivia kept silent.

Olivia slumped against the back of the driver's seat. She couldn't deny the obvious. "Yes."

"Well, I would be safe, and I would feel better if you came up into the apartment instead of freezing your stubborn ass off down there in the car."

Olivia sighed in defeat. "I'm not alone, Elliot's here, too."

"The more the merrier. Come on up," Dawn said one last time before she hung up.

Elliot grabbed his thermos. "If you're going up, I think I'll go home to my own stubborn woman."

"She's not my stubborn anything!" Olivia protested sharply.

Elliot shrugged. "You won't need backup while you're drinking coffee with her, will you?"

Olivia wasn't sure if he was speaking about backup or a chaperone. She rubbed her eyes. "I think I can handle it, El. Give my best to Kathy and the kids."

"Will do." Elliot disappeared into the night.

Hesitantly, Olivia crossed the street and was immediately buzzed in when she pressed the bell-button of apartment 5 D.

"Come in and thaw out," Dawn greeted her at the door. "You must be half-frozen!"

"It's not that bad," Olivia lied, rubbing her cold hands as she followed Dawn into the apartment. She stopped abruptly, when she saw the woman sitting on Dawn's new couch. "Sorry to interrupt…I didn't know you had company." She looked awkwardly from Dawn to the stranger.

"Introduce yourselves while I make coffee," Dawn ordered and left them alone.

Olivia had seen her fair share of beautiful women in her life, but this stranger definitely made the top five, maybe even topping them all, she decided. The woman had arranged her slender body into a pose of casual elegance on the couch, one long leg crossed over the other. Ebony hair contrasted with startling blue eyes and flowed in carefully coifed waves down to her narrow waist. The stranger was stylishly dressed in a designer skirt suit that Olivia suspected cost more than her entire wardrobe put together.

The woman practically screamed money, style, and Ivy League education. And Olivia should know; she had spent enough time around Alex to recognize the signs. Olivia instantly felt inferior. Hey, what's up with that, Benson? She reprimanded herself. Who told you this was a beauty contest? You're here to protect Dawn, not to compare your clothes, your looks or your bank account to some woman who just happens to be in her apartment at this hour of the night!

The stranger stood with graceful movements, extending an elegant hand in Olivia's direction. "Hello, I'm Maggie Forsyth." Her voice was soft, almost sensual.

Olivia shook the offered hand, careful not to grip it too hard. "Olivia Benson." Not knowing who the woman was in relation to Dawn made her a little uncomfortable, but their hostess was still busy in the kitchen and obviously in no hurry to clear up the stranger's role in her life.

"So, you're the stalker who just scared us to death!" Maggie Forsyth said with a smile.

"Sorry about that." Olivia felt herself blush.

"Oh, I don't mind," Maggie assured her. "It's not like I had a fearless reputation to lose. Dawn called me to keep her company, but I doubt very much that she really expected me to be able to protect her in hand-to-hand combat."

Kia, Dawn's Balinese cat, strolled into the living room and circled Olivia's legs with a welcoming "Mrrrrow" before disappearing into the kitchen. Olivia stared after her in surprise.

"Looks like you know each other rather well," Maggie Forsyth commented.

Olivia looked up sharply, not sure if Maggie was speaking about the cat or its owner. Just wonderful! Now she thinks I'm Dawn's live-in girlfriend just because the cat suddenly acts like I'm her long lost mice-hunting buddy! "She never did that before," she hastened to say. "The only two times I saw her, she scratched my weapon hand, and then proceeded to treat me like an intruder into her territory."

Maggie Forsyth smiled. "Cats and women, the two last unsolved mysteries in the universe."

No woman who doesn't have to live with one ever thinks women are anything other than perfectly logical and understandable creatures. So, she's gay? Olivia would have never guessed that. Is she Dawn's girlfriend or something? Not that I'd care… Yeah, right, Benson!

Dawn returned from the kitchen, a cup of coffee in her hands and the cat in tow. "Please, have a seat, Detective." She handed Olivia the coffee and sat down in her rocking chair, leaving Olivia to sit down next to Maggie Forsyth. Dawn studied Olivia over the rim of her mug. "Didn't you just tell me this afternoon that your department doesn't have the resources to have a protective detail watch my apartment?"

Olivia shrugged as casually as possible. "Some last minute resource distributions made it possible."

"Resource distribution?" Dawn repeated. "If your precinct is anything like my dad's, that means you distributed your time from your private life to more overtime."

"No overtime," Olivia promised. She didn't even have to lie.

Maggie Forsyth rose from the couch, smoothing invisible wrinkles out of her skirt. "I think I'll take my leave, now that you have a more suitable protector. Detective." She nodded at Olivia who merely nodded back.

Dawn stood and followed her to the door.

The front door lay in full view of the couch, and Olivia couldn't help but watch them say goodbye.

"Will I see you at our exhibit next week?" Maggie asked, one hand resting on Dawn's arm.

Sounds like Maggie is either the owner of an art gallery or some kind of artist. Almost against her will, Olivia was impressed. She herself didn't have one artistic bone in her body. Crime scene sketches were as far as her creative efforts went.

"I'll be there," Dawn promised. She leaned over to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Good night."

Olivia quickly looked away when Dawn turned and came back into the living room.

Dawn, however, looked right through her pretended disinterest. "That," she said, pointing over her shoulder, "was the other ex I spoke of this afternoon."

Her ex comes over to keep her company? When a man and a woman break up, they usually hate each other's guts and never want to see each other again. When two women end their relationship, they become part of the big ex-girlfriends-network!

"Very lesbian of us, isn't it?" Dawn laughed, easily guessing Olivia's thoughts.

It almost scared Olivia how easily Dawn could read her. Didn't she say psychologists weren't mind readers? "She seems…great," she commented lamely. Maggie Forsyth was elegant, sophisticated, rich, and completely untouched by all the things that made Olivia lie awake at night. She was everything Olivia was not.

"She is great," Dawn confirmed. "But we're better off as friends. We've always lived in different worlds, just paying each other's lives a quick visit instead of really sharing it. Maggie couldn't relate to my life; she never understood the things that are most important to me."

Olivia found herself fascinated; she wanted to know about all the things that were important to Dawn, but was reluctant to speak about relationships with her at the same time, so she kept silent.

"Maggie didn't share my love for kids, always making herself scarce when I was babysitting. And she never understood my job…" Dawn shrugged. "It's not that I don't know how irritating it can be to have a romantic evening interrupted by the call of an upset patient who needs to see you right then and there, but like it or not, that is – or was – a part of my job, a part of my life…"

Olivia knew exactly what she was talking about. A lot of her dates had been interrupted, never to be picked up again, when she had been called away to a case. Finally, there's a woman who would understand, and I'm not allowed to really befriend her, much less anything more!

"I liked sharing art, literature, wine-tastings, and haut cuisine with Maggie, but I also like having a hotdog at a baseball game or a beer in the cozy little bar around the corner, and I like ice-skating or romping around the park with my niece…" Dawn shrugged, a little embarrassed. "Nothing special, I know, but I like the simple things in life."

Sounds like the perfect woman, Olivia mused, but then shoved the thought away. "You have a niece?" she asked instead. "I thought your brother…?"

"Jamie, my niece, was just a baby when Aidan died. Now she's almost ten, going on thirty." Dawn smiled affectionately. "Aidan and Eliza, Jamie's mom, were never married."

"Jamie," Olivia said in sudden recognition. "She's named after your father, right?"

Dawn nodded. "I always planned to name my first child after dad, but Aidan was quicker than I was. Now, I think I'll name the first one after my brother; Daniel for a boy and Danielle for a girl."

"Sounds good." Olivia didn't know what else to say, being no expert on family naming traditions or planning children. Dawn's openness regarding her private life astonished her, and she wondered whether the younger woman was always so open and willing to share information about herself or whether she had somehow earned a special trust.

"Have you ever thought about having kids?" With unerring precision, Dawn found one of the topics Olivia was most uncomfortable with.

"Not really," Olivia said.

Dawn's blonde eyebrows lifted. "No? Something about you tells me you'd be great with kids."

"Being good with children is part of a SVU detective's job," Olivia pointed out.

"I'm not speaking about the job." Dawn didn't accept the cop-out.

Finally, Olivia relented. "I like kids, and under the right circumstances I could see myself living with a child or maybe even more than one."

The carefully phrased answer couldn't distract Dawn from what Olivia hadn't said. "You would like to live with a child, but not have one." It wasn't a question but a statement.

Olivia shrugged. "I don't need to give birth to a child to be able to love it."

Dawn looked at her with her open, attentive gaze.

"I don't think having a child that's biologically mine, passing on my genes, is a good idea," Olivia finally admitted the heart of the matter.

"Why's that?" Dawn looked her up and down. "From what I can see, your genes are working perfectly fine. No club foot, no hunchback, and no overbite."

Olivia knew that Dawn was aware of the genes she was referring to. The psychologist seemed to intuitively know everything else about her, why should this be the exception? "You know what I'm talking about."

"I do." Dawn didn't try to deny it. "I once had a patient exactly like you."

"Exactly like me?" Olivia repeated. Save for the odd suspect here and there, she had never before met any other people who had been conceived through rape; she had never really wanted to, but now she felt a spark of curiosity.

Dawn smiled a little. "Well, maybe not exactly like you. You're a pretty unique individual, Detective. I can't go into detail but the issue of having children has been the same for him. He didn't want to pass on the genes of a man he knew nothing about other than that he was a violent rapist."

"Dawn…" Olivia sighed, not wanting to wade deeper into an emotionally turbulent topic that they had only just scratched the surface of. "I'm sure you're a wonderful psychotherapist, but I'm not searching for one, and I don't see why we should talk about any of this."

Dawn regarded her calmly, but for a moment Olivia thought she could detect something like hurt or disappointment in the gray-green eyes. "I'm not offering you psychotherapy; I'm offering simple friendship."

And I can't accept the offer. Not officially, at least not until after the trial. And even then… Olivia had always kept a safe distance from women she found not only physically attractive, but who appealed to her on an emotional and intellectual level, too. Dawn was getting maximum points in all three departments, so she normally would have stayed well away from her anyway.

Dawn bit her lip when Olivia didn't answer. "I apologize if I went too far and—"

"No," Olivia said. As uncomfortable as she was, she didn't want Dawn to apologize for showing a little interest and friendliness towards her. "No apology necessary. I just don't like to talk about this and feel like I shouldn't talk about it with you, anyway."

"You don't want me to know about your father because I've been raped? Do you think I can't separate the act you were conceived through from your person?" Dawn looked at her incredulously.

Some days, even Olivia couldn't think about herself independently from the circumstances of her conception. But now they were back at the topic she didn't want to talk about with a psychologist, not even this psychologist.

"You're nothing like Gary Ballard, and I'm sure you're nothing like the man who raped your mother!"

The conviction in Dawn's voice, the sureness in her eyes astonished Olivia. "That's not the reason why I can't talk to you about any of this," she said, her mind wheeling with the words Dawn had spoken. "I'm the detective working your case."

"And that means I'm not allowed to see the person behind the badge?" Dawn asked. "I'm not allowed to be a little curious about her…to like her?"

Olivia's eyebrows lifted. Do you? Do you like the person you see behind the badge? She wanted to ask, but didn't. "You're allowed to," she said instead.

"But you aren't," Dawn voiced what Olivia hadn't said. "You're not allowed to see me as anything other than a victim…a witness for the prosecution."

Olivia studied the fine features. She couldn't shake the feeling that this conversation was like an iceberg; just the tip of it was visible, but there was an enormous subtext lurking just under the surface. Was Dawn asking her if she would ever be interested in her if or when she wasn't a witness any longer? Or were they still just speaking about the possibilities of a friendship?

Angry voices from the staircase interrupted the moment. Olivia stood, crossing the living room while her right hand reached for the gun at her side. She glanced through the peephole and listened for a while. "Just your neighbor and his loving wife exchanging some pleasantries," she told Dawn.

"They do this every day. Maybe I should offer them some marriage counseling so I can finally have some peace and quiet, huh?" Dawn was being a good sport, not insisting on a topic Olivia couldn't and wouldn't talk about.

Olivia smiled in an effort to help Dawn lighten the mood. "Or maybe you could just sick the cops on them."

"Speaking of cops…where has your partner disappeared to?" Dawn sat down in the rocking chair and gestured towards the couch for Olivia to sit as well. "Don't tell me you left him in the car."

"Hey, I even cracked a window," Olivia defended herself.

Dawn laughed. "I'm sure he'd appreciate that – if he was a dog."

"Okay, okay, he went home to spend some quality time with the family."

Dawn studied her. "He's a good man and a good partner, huh?"

Olivia thought about the way Elliot had shown up in front of Dawn's apartment building tonight without her even telling him that she planned to watch over it. He'd known the only thing it could earn him was a reprimand from their captain and Olivia's gratitude, but he'd packed a thermos of coffee and driven downtown anyway. "Best I ever had and the best I'll ever work with," Olivia confirmed.

"I bet you could tell a lot of stories. There are still some cops who don't react kindly to being partnered with a woman."

Olivia nodded. "True. But most of the detectives with Special Victims know that there are some things a female officer is better equipped to handle than a male one. If you're good at your job, you get the respect you deserve." She leaned back against the couch, more relaxed now that they were back on the safe topic of her work.

"Special Victims is…well…special," Dawn confirmed. "I, for one, was very glad that it was you who held my hand during the exam in the hospital and not one of your male colleagues."

Olivia inclined her head. She understood the sentiment but didn't want to bring the conversation back to a more personal level.

"My dad's last partner was a woman, too," Dawn said, going back to the original topic as if she had sensed Olivia's unease. "At first, I think my mother had some doubts about him spending so much time with a female partner. But after dad invited her home for dinner a few times and she saw that they interacted more like siblings, mom was okay with it."

Olivia thought back to the first dinner she had shared with the Stabler family. She had sensed Kathy's gazes resting on her all the way from the entrees to dessert. Slowly, they had gotten to know each other. Olivia knew that Kathy respected her and trusted her to keep her husband safe. From time to time, she could still sense some jealousy from Kathy, but that was not because she suspected them of having an affair but rather because the overprotective Elliot refused to share his thoughts and feelings about his job with his family, only talking about them with Olivia.

"She's still a very close friend of the family," Dawn continued. "She was my maid of honor when I married Caleb and the first person I came out to."

Olivia wanted to ask a thousand questions, curious about Dawn's friend, her marriage, and her coming out, but once again she held herself back. "I think I'll go now," she said with a glance at her watch.

Dawn rocked forward in her chair, directing a piercing glance at her. "So you can sit down there in the car for the rest of the night?" She shook her blonde head. "There's no sense in that when I have a perfectly fine couch here. Or is there some rule demanding a police officer has to be cold and uncomfortable during surveillance?"

"Not that I know of," Olivia admitted hesitantly.

"Okay, it's settled then. You sleep on the couch," Dawn decided in a voice that left no room for objections. She measured the couch, then Olivia with a long gaze. "Unless you'd be more comfortable in the bed…"

"No!" Olivia said so quickly that she almost choked on her own tongue. "No, the couch will be fine, thanks," she added a little more politely.

Dawn lifted the cat from her lap and stood. "The couch it is then. I'll see if I can find you something to sleep in."

Sleep sounded really good to Olivia, because she hadn't gotten much since the break in the case. Without further protest, she took the pillow and the blanket Dawn handed her. She heard Dawn rummage around in her closet, while she made her bed on the couch. Like the week before, when Dawn had stayed at her apartment over night, she found that she liked Dawn's presence; liked hearing her in the background while she did everyday things. This is not an everyday activity! She strictly reminded herself. You're here to protect her, not to play house with her!

"This okay?" Dawn had returned from the bedroom, holding out an oversized T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants for her.

Olivia turned. Immediately, her gaze fell onto the long-sleeved shirt Dawn had changed into. Two of the buttons were done incorrectly, showing a hint of skin. Olivia bit her lip, hesitant to point it out to Dawn.

"Something wrong with my choice of nightclothes?" Dawn asked.

Olivia quickly looked up, not wanting her to think that she had been staring at her chest. "No, no…it's just…" She gestured in the general direction of the shirt. "…You left a button out."

Dawn looked down. "Oh. That happens frequently since…since I had my finger broken." She reached up and clumsily started to undo the buttons without the use of her splinted index finger.

Without thought, Olivia stepped closer and reached out a hand to help, then stopped when she noticed what she was doing. "Sorry." Quickly, she drew back her hands.

"It's okay," Dawn assured her, "I'm not too proud to accept a little help."

Olivia had no other choice now. She took another half-step towards Dawn and reached out her hands, willing them not to tremble. This close, she couldn't help but notice the elegant curve of Dawn's collarbone and the charming freckles that dusted the fair skin until they disappeared under the shirt.

Dawn stood still. She looked down and watched Olivia's fingers button the shirt properly.

Olivia had undressed her fair share of attractive women in her life, but somehow the innocent buttoning of a shirt was the most erotic thing she had experienced in some time. "There," she finally said, her voice rough and uneven in her own ears, "all done."

"Thanks." Dawn licked her lips and stepped back, looking a little flustered herself.

No more sleepovers with this woman! Olivia ordered and busied herself with checking the door and the windows. If I have to do this again, I'll park the car a few buildings away!

Part 9

APARTMENT OF

DAWN KINSLEY

7 BENSON STREET

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 1

A small sound woke Olivia, but she kept her eyes closed, orienting herself to her surroundings by sound alone at first. The quiet breathing of another human being told her that she was not alone in the room. When she felt the warmth and the subtle movements of another body against her abdomen, she quickly opened her eyes, almost afraid of what she would find.

She exhaled sharply. It was only the cat that had joined her on the couch somewhere during the night.

"I hope she didn't disturb you?" Dawn's voice came from directly behind her.

Olivia sat up, one hand automatically making sure that the cat wouldn't fall off.

Dawn was leaning next to the window behind the couch, already dressed in a sweatshirt that didn't require buttoning. Her hair, still damp from her shower, was combed back and accenuated the attractive angles of her face.

How long has she been standing there? Olivia was surprised that her finely honed senses hadn't alerted her to Dawn's presence in the room, but blamed it on the exhausted sleep she had fallen into after she had lain awake for hours.

"Um…no, she didn't," Olivia answered belatedly, giving herself a mental slap against the back of her head. "I'm a little surprised because I had the impression she couldn't stand me." She stroked the lazily stretching cat, glad to have an excuse to look away from its owner.

"Well, by trying to put her into the hated transport box, you probably didn't leave a stellar first impression, but once she gets to know you, Kia tends to be a certified cuddleholic," Dawn said.

Olivia climbed over the purring cat and gathered her clothes. When she came back from the bathroom, Dawn still stood next to the window but there was a cup of what Olivia suspected to be tea in one hand and a second cup in the other.

Olivia stepped next to her and silently accepted the mug of coffee Dawn held out for her. Taking careful sips from the hot liquid, Olivia looked out of the window. It was dawning outside; the light not yet reaching the small street Dawn lived on.

Olivia found herself thinking about Dawn – not the one lighting up the streets of New York City but the woman carrying the same name, standing beside her at the window. Their shoulders were touching but Olivia was hesitant to step back, afraid that this would draw unnecessary attention to the innocent touch.

"I have to get going," she finally said when her cup was almost empty. "I have to be in court at nine."

Dawn turned away from the window to face her. "How long until I have to be there? In court?"

"Last I heard from Alex, probably not before the end of next week. Alex will call you for trial preparation."

Dawn nodded thoughtfully. "She'll handle my case, won't she?"

"Yes, she will."

"Good," Dawn said. "I like her, and I think I'll feel really comfortable with her."

Olivia lifted her head to study the younger woman. She found herself wondering whether it was the competent lawyer Dawn admired or the woman behind it. Jealous, Benson? She smirked at herself, but didn't want to take a closer look and discover who it was she might be jealous of, Alex or Dawn.

"She has this air of confidence," Dawn continued, "like nothing can touch her. I'd like to have that for myself." The psychologist looked down into her cup.

Olivia admired Alex's regal bearing, too, but it was Dawn's honest openness; her easy, approachable way; and the hint of vulnerability that she was strong enough to show, that she valued most about the psychologist.

"Nothing can touch you," she promised Dawn, "Alex, Elliot and I will be there to make sure of that."

"Have I ever really thanked you for—?"

"No," Olivia didn't want to hear the words of gratitude, "and you don't need to. I'm just—"

This time Dawn interrupted her. "If this is going to be the 'Just doing my job, Ma'am'-speech, you can save it for the next victim because I know for sure that hand holding and tear drying are not in your job description, Detective."

"It is," Olivia insisted, "right there on page ninety-seven, somewhere between paper-pushing and political ass-kissing."

"Ah." Dawn chuckled. "So I belong to the highlights of your day, huh?"

Starting the day to the sound of Dawn's voice and the smell of coffee that someone else had prepared for her had been a highlight, but she would never admit that to Dawn. So, she just smiled and carried her empty cup to the kitchen. Not wanting to take the risk of being hugged again, she slipped out of the door with a quick goodbye.

MOTIONS HEARING

CHAMBERS OF

JUDGE LENA PETROVSKY

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 5

At first sight, this case seemed to be a pretty ordinary one. A man breaking into apartments at night and raping women in their own bedrooms was nothing Alex Cabot hadn't seen before in her two years with Special Victims. But whenever she had entered the 16^th precinct squad room, she had gotten the feeling that the Kinsley case was somehow personal for the SVU detectives. Alex had to admit that she was beginning to take it personally, too – she didn't take kindly to suspects hitting one of her detectives.

Murphy's Law dictated that they had to draw Judge Lena Petrovsky, her 'special friend', as the judge who would hear the case. Alex hoped that the evidence they had would prove to be solid and that no witnesses would begin to waver, because she knew that Petrovsky wouldn't let her get away with anything. On the plus side, Petrovsky wasn't likely to go easy on her opposing counsel either.

"Mister D'Aquino, Alexandra." Judge Petrovsky nodded at the two lawyers entering her chambers.

Only her mother and Lena Petrovsky had ever called her by her full first name – and she didn't particularly like it from either one of them. Alex kept quiet nonetheless, preferring not to alienate the judge who would soon decide exactly what evidence she would be walking into trial with.

The judge leaned back in the chair behind her desk and motioned for the two attorneys to take a seat in front of it. Petrovsky pointed to the pile of written motions the defense attorney had submitted. "I hope this is not just your contribution to deforestation, Mister D'Aquino."

Alex suppressed a smirk, glad to know that Petrovsky's no-nonsense behavior wasn't limited to her.

"No, Your Honor, it's a little more than that." Defense counsel was experienced enough not to let the comment fluster him. "Defense moves for a dismissal of all charges."

"On what grounds?" Judge Petrovsky demanded to know.

Yes, I'd like to know that, too! Alex could see no reasons for a dismissal. She had won cases with less evidence.

"The warrants to arrest my client and to search his home were obtained based on information that had been received in violation of patient-doctor confidentiality," D'Aquino stated. "Any evidence obtained thereafter is fruit from the forbidden tree and has to be excluded, leaving the D.A.'s office with nothing to link my client to any crime."

Petrovsky turned to look at Alex, a stern expression on her face. "Miss Cabot?"

"That's a clear misinterpretation on Mr. D'Aquino's part, Your Honor," Alex answered. "Miss Kinsley, one of the victims and a rape counselor, noticed the resemblance of her own case to that of one of her patients, but she obtained a waiver of client-doctor-confidentiality before she approached the detectives. Here's her affidavit and that of her patient confirming it." Alex handed the papers across the table. She had prepared herself for the possibility of this particular motion.

Petrovsky scanned the documents. "The motion for the defense is denied."

"Then, I move to dismiss the charges for failure to properly mirandize my client," D'Aquino said.

"Did the arresting officers read Mister Ballard his rights, Miss Cabot?"

Alex nodded vigorously. "I assure you, the arrest and the reading of his Miranda rights were by the book – except for the interruption caused by the defendant's assault on Detective Benson. You're not trying to blame the detectives for that, are you?" She directed a sharp gaze at the defense attorney.

"I'd be thankful if you could leave the posing of questions to me, Counselor!" Petrovsky interrupted.

Alex held her gaze for a second, and then nodded.

"The arresting officers are experienced detectives, and I believe them when they say that they resumed the reading of his rights as soon as they had Mister Ballard under control." The judge tapped the 49's, the arresting reports, Alex had provided her with. "You'll have a chance to question them about the arrest during cross. The motion is dismissed. I trust that you have a motion of some value, Mr. D'Aquino, and you're not just wasting my time."

"No, Your Honor. Defense moves to suppress the bracelets, pins, and key-ring pendants found in my client's apartment," D'Aquino said. "They weren't in the scope of the search warrant."

"They were in plain view, Your Honor," Alex objected as confident as possible, "no warrant needed." She knew that it didn't matter anyway. Because of the evidence she had presented to Judge Ridenour, including the positive ID by not one, but three victims, there had been no limits specified in the search warrant. The warrant had covered anything related to the crime.

The defense attorney laughed sarcastically. "Plain view? You want me to believe your detectives have x-ray vision? They unlawfully removed the objects from a box in my client's closet, Your Honor!"

"Is that true, Miss Cabot?" Petrovsky's piercing brown eyes looked at Alex over the rim of her glasses.

"The items could have been wrapped in a blanket and shoved into a drawer; it still wouldn't have mattered. Mr. D'Aquino's client is facing multiple rape charges and has been positively identified by the victims. As such, the police were well within their rights to search Mr. Ballard's home for any evidence linking him to the crimes, as stated in the warrant signed by Judge Ridenour." Alex defended her detectives.

"Alleged crimes," the defense counsel just had to put in.

Petrovsky read through a copy of the search warrant and shook her head. "Mr. D'Aquino, this is not the time for semantics. I find that the police detectives on the scene were justified in searching for any personal items of the previous victims. The motion to suppress the objects in question is denied."

"Then I move to dismiss the—"

Petrovsky held up her hand in a clearly irritated gesture. "Mr. D'Aquino, so far we've gone through three motions that have clearly been without merit, and I'm loath to continue, so let me make this short. Your remaining motions are denied, as they have no basis in the facts presented to me. However, I am dismissing your client's charge of aggravated assault."

"Your Honor, with all due respect—" Alex began to protest.

"Ms. Cabot, while I concede that Mr. Ballard was carrying a firearm, I can find no evidence here that he used it to attack the detectives. You may still amend your charge to a simple assault. Now, is there anything else?"

Alex shook her head and saw Victor D'Aquino do the same.

"All right. Jury selection in my courtroom, tomorrow at nine a.m.," Petrovsky said, dismissing them.

Sparing D'Aquino a cool glance, Alex strode past him and left Petrovsky's chambers.

"Alex!"

The A.D.A. slowed her stride when she recognized Olivia Benson's voice. "Loitering in the courthouse hallways, Detective?" she teased Olivia. It had taken them a while to get comfortable with each other, mainly because Alex had been assigned to the Special Victims Unit because of the 'behavioral problems' of its detectives. But now, dozens of cases and a few shared sandwiches later, Alex considered Olivia one of her best detectives. She appreciated Olivia's strength because it had helped pave Alex's way without her having to prove time after time that a woman could be successful in their line of work. And after having to deal with testosterone laden cops all week, she was usually grateful to work with another woman for a change.

"Not with criminal intent," Olivia answered her joke. "I just wanted to see how the motion hearing on Ballard went."

Alex didn't ask how the detective knew about the time the hearing had been scheduled for. She had learned long ago that rumors traveled faster than a patrol car with lights and sirens. What did surprise her, though, was that Olivia had made her way to the courthouse just to ask about the motion hearing in person. "Why the sudden interest? Don't you trust me to do my job?"

"Of course I do!" Olivia was quick to assure her, probably well aware of the consequences it could have to doubt a Cabot's abilities in his or her chosen line of work. "It's just that…"

Alex had to smile at the awkward shrug, reminding her of the teenager the confident detective must have once been. "You want to keep tabs on proceedings on the man who graced you with that lovely bruise," she guessed, pointing to the fading marks on Olivia's jaw.

Automatically, Olivia's hand went up to her jaw. "Um…yes, something like that. So?"

Alex resumed her fast clip, her high heels echoing down the hallway. "We're going to trial. Petrovsky denied the motion for dismissal."

Olivia nodded with satisfaction and followed. "Good."

"It's a start," Alex said a little more cautiously. "My favorite judge also threw out the aggravated assault charge."

"Could that hurt our case in any way?"

Alex shrugged, absent-mindedly preventing her briefcase from slipping off her shoulder with one hand. "I really wanted to nail this guy for everything I possibly can. We have a pretty solid case, if the witnesses hold up. D'Aquino's already filed motion after motion. He's going to do whatever he can to stall us so he can buy himself more time to dig up dirt on our victims."

Olivia grimaced and stopped to hold the courthouse door open for Alex.

Alex stepped outside and smiled, knowing the detective didn't even notice that she was mirroring her male colleagues' gentlemanly gestures. "Are you going back to the precinct?"

"Yeah."

"Do me a favor and see if you can find someone to bring Miss Kinsley a copy of her written statement. She needs to review it today so I can meet with her for trial prep tomorrow."

"No problem," Olivia said immediately. "Consider it done."

APARTMENT OF

DAWN KINSLEY

7 BENSON STREET

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 5

Olivia rang the doorbell for the fifth time, bouncing on the balls of her feet when once again no one opened the door. She knew Dawn was home; she had seen the lights in the living room and the bedroom before she had slipped into the building with one of Dawn's neighbors.

Increasingly concerned, she reached for the cell phone clipped to her belt. It almost fell to the floor when Dawn's apartment door was belatedly cracked open, the chain latch still in place.

Instead of Dawn, a girl of maybe nine or ten years peeked at her through the small gap between the door and the door-frame. What was visible of the child – red-blonde hair, light skin, and intelligent green eyes – was enough for Olivia to be reasonably sure that she was face to face – or rather face to belly - with Dawn's niece. "Hi. You must be Jamie, right?"

The girl stared at her through the narrow gap left by the safety chain and nodded suspiciously.

Olivia noticed with satisfaction that she left the door ajar, not letting the stranger into the apartment. "And who are you?" she demanded to know, one tiny fist on her hip.

Olivia bit her lip to hide her amusement. She could clearly see the resemblance to her feisty aunt. "My name is Olivia; I'm a police officer."

"Really?" The girl looked interested but still didn't open the door. "My dad and my grandpa Jim were police officers, too. Did you work with them?"

"No, regrettably I didn't, but I know your aunt." Olivia tried to get a peek into the apartment, hoping to see Dawn and be let in, but she could only see the empty hallway behind Jamie.

The girl hesitated. "Do you have a gold shield?"

Olivia handed over her badge through the narrow gap. "Can I come in now?"

After a thorough examination of the gold shield Jamie lifted herself up onto her tiptoes to pull the chain back from the door.

"Where's your aunt?" Olivia asked, not seeing Dawn as she entered the apartment.

The girl shrugged. "Don't know."

"You don't know where she is?" Olivia became instantly alert. She was sure that Dawn would never leave a child alone in her apartment without an emergency.

"We're playing hide and seek. You can help me find her, if you want," the nine year old offered. She had the same friendly way of relating to people that her aunt had.

Olivia smiled down at the girl. "Thanks, I'd like to." She wanted to find Dawn, if only to make sure that everything was all right and to give her the formal statement she had promised to deliver.

"I'll search in the bathroom," Jamie announced, already running towards it, "maybe Auntie Dawn is hiding behind the shower curtain again!"

Olivia waited until the girl had closed the door behind her, and then moved to the bedroom, which she assumed to be the most likely hiding place. "Dawn?" she asked loudly, not wanting to startle her with her sudden appearance.

There was a small sound behind the bedroom door. Was that a whimper?! Without further hesitation, Olivia entered the bedroom.

Dawn was sitting on the floor, her trembling back against the wall and her head between her knees. Olivia could hear her desperate panting even from five steps away. She quickly closed the door behind her and crossed the room to kneel down beside Dawn.

"Dawn, hey…it's Detective Benson…Olivia…" She hesitated to touch the trembling woman, but then the urge to see her face; her eyes; to make a connection and find out what was wrong was too strong. Gently, she touched her shoulder, noticing that the shirt was wet with perspiration. "Dawn?"

Finally, Dawn lifted her head and looked up at her with wide, scared eyes. Beads of sweat were running down her pale cheeks.

"Easy, easy!" Olivia tried for her most soothing voice, even when the state Dawn was in scared her, too. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"P-p…" Dawn was still fighting for breath. "Panic attack."

Olivia stared down at her helplessly. "What can I do?"

"H-hold me."

Olivia sank down onto the floor. She closed her arms around Dawn and drew her against her protective body. She could feel the smaller woman trembling and panting against her. "What happened?" she whispered when she felt Dawn quiet down a little.

"I was playing with my niece," Dawn said, her voice rough and shaky, "and I had the glorious idea of hiding under the covers of the bed…where I had a flashback. My niece!" Suddenly, the body in Olivia's arms tensed again. "God! Can you make sure she's okay?"

"She's okay," Olivia assured her. "She probably thinks you found the world's best hiding place."

"Would you go and look after her, please?"

Olivia hesitated. She didn't want to leave Dawn.

"I'm okay now. I'll be out in a minute," Dawn promised. "I just need to change my shirt." She tugged at the damp garment. "Please, I don't want my niece to see me like this."

One last squeeze, and then Olivia loosened her embrace and stood. "You sure that you're okay?"

"Yeah. It just took me by surprise…I thought the worst of those flashbacks were behind me. But I'll be fine."

Olivia stepped backwards, not lifting her concerned gaze from Dawn until she reached the door. Just when she reached to open it, the door began to move. Olivia quickly prevented it from opening fully and slipped outside, blocking Dawn's niece from entering the bedroom.

"I can't find her anywhere! Is Aunt Dawn in there?"

Olivia nodded, not knowing what to tell the child. "Yes, I found her."

"Is she okay?" The girl stared up at Olivia with concerned eyes.

Her compassion and the intuitive understanding that something wasn't quite all right with her aunt reminded Olivia once again of Dawn. "Yes, she is. She's just a little tired from all the hiding and seeking. She'll join us as soon as she's rested for a bit, okay? How about we set up the Parcheesi board so we can play when she comes out?" She had seen the game board lying on the table, when she came in.

Jamie hesitated to leave her place next to the bedroom door. "Auntie Dawn isn't very good at that."

Olivia grinned. "All the better for us, don't you think?"

Now the girl giggled and joined Olivia at the table. "Do you know how to play?"

"I used to, but it's been a long time," Olivia answered, trying to keep the bedroom door within her sight without the girl noticing. "You may have to remind me about the rules."

"I can do that," Jamie eagerly agreed. "I'll take the red ones. You can have green or yellow."

"What about blue?" Olivia asked. "Why can't I have those?"

"Because they're mine," Dawn said from the doorway.

"Aunt Dawn!" The girl jumped up from the table, raced across the room and hugged her aunt around the waist. "Are you sad again?"

Dawn caressed the red-blonde hair. "How can I be sad when my favorite niece is here? Although I won't be very happy if I lose at Parcheesi again!" She smiled at Olivia over the head of the giggling child, conveying her gratitude in silence.

Olivia admired her self-control. If she hadn't seen her trembling and hyper-ventilating just minutes before, she would never have believed that this was the same woman.

Half an hour later, Olivia watched as Jamie walked her fourth and last piece around the game board. "Do something, Dawn," she demanded, "your niece is about to win my pay check!"

"We're not playing for money," Dawn reminded, "and even if we were, I can't influence how the dice fall. My field of expertise is psychology, not telekinesis."

The ringing doorbell interrupted before Dawn could throw the dice.

"Uh-oh!" Jamie looked up reluctantly.

Dawn nodded. "I think that's your mom, rug rat," she said with affection.

"Can't I stay just a little longer?" Jamie whined. "I was winnin'!"

"You can beat us again next time, okay?" Dawn opened the door, unaware that she had included Olivia in her plans for future Parcheesi games.

Olivia busied herself with clearing the game board, one eye on the two women greeting each other in the hallway.

Jamie's mother was a tall brunette, with the telltale energetic voice of a mother and the warm smile of a true friend. When she stepped back from the hug she had shared with Dawn, Olivia could see that she was balancing a baby on her hip.

The baby, who Olivia guessed to be less than a year old, immediately held his little arms out in Dawn's direction.

Dawn didn't hesitate in taking him from his mother, cuddling him against her body as she walked back into the living room. "This is Eliza, the little cheater's mother," she announced with a smile.

Jamie giggled. "I didn't cheat, Aunt Dawn!"

"Yeah, yeah." Dawn laughed. "Eliza, this is Detective Olivia Benson."

"Ah." Eliza stepped past Dawn, her gaze resting on Olivia's face. "Very pleased to finally meet you."

Olivia shook her hand, wondering what Dawn might have told her almost-sister-in-law about her.

"And this little guy here is Tim, my nephew." Dawn leaned down to press a soft kiss against the baby's head.

Olivia finally understood. So, Eliza has a new partner and a new baby – and Dawn accepted both willingly into the family. Amazing.

Eliza studied the woman softly bouncing her son. "Are you okay? You're looking a little—"

"Everything's all right," Dawn assured her. "Your daughter just ran her favorite aunt a little ragged, that's all."

God, she's gotten really good at hiding her feelings! Olivia knew that this was something most rape and abuse survivors were very adept in.

"Her only aunt," Eliza corrected.

"Details, details," Dawn teased back.

Eliza stepped forward and softly touched Dawn's arm. "Thanks for agreeing to baby-sit her."

"Mom!" Jamie protested. "I'm not a baby!"

Her mother smiled. "Oh, sorry, your ladyship. Must have been a momentary confusion on my part."

Jamie nodded in satisfaction. "I'm almost a teenager now."

Eliza crossed herself. "Yeah, God help me! Maybe your aunt can keep you a little longer…" she looked at Dawn. "…until she's say 18 or 19…"

Olivia had to laugh. In moments like this, she really regretted having no family and no close female friends.

Dawn handed the girl's backpack to her mother, but kept the baby until the very last second. It was easy to see that she loved him as much as she loved her niece, even if he wasn't related to her by blood. "Listen, if you and Rick want me to take the kids overnight, just give me a call."

"Like you don't already have enough on your plate without a nine month old and a nine year old vying for your attention!"

"My plate will never be too full for them," Dawn objected.

Eliza nodded. "You'll call us when you know the court date, right? We want to come."

Dawn hesitated, playing with her nephew's tiny foot. "I'm not sure about that."

"About the date?"

"About you coming to watch the trial," Dawn admitted.

Eliza shook her head energetically. "All these years you've been so supportive of us; now let us support you for a change."

Dawn sighed, but there was a smile on her lips. "Guess I can't stop you, huh?"

"No, you can't." Eliza hugged Dawn again and took her son from her.

Olivia watched as Dawn got hugs and kisses from her niece. To her surprise the girl turned and hugged her, too, before she followed her mother out the door.

"Friendly girl, your niece," Olivia commented to Dawn, when they were alone.

"Yes, she is." Dawn smiled. "If she likes you, that is. She can be a little devil if she can't stand someone, though. I think Maggie would rather wrestle a cobra than stay in a room with Jamie ever again."

Olivia remembered Dawn had told her that her ex didn't really like children. Sounds like the whole family knew her ex-girlfriend… Olivia wondered how her own mother would have reacted if she had ever brought a woman home with her. She studied Dawn. "Are you okay after…that flashback?"

"I'm all right now," Dawn said without hesitation.

"Really?" Olivia didn't want to be one of the people Dawn had to put up a strong front for.

Dawn squeezed Olivia's arm for a moment. "Yes, really." This time, she looked her in the eyes, and Olivia believed her. "Sometimes, I'm pretty out of it for hours, or even days, afterward, but being with somebody always helps me to orient myself to the here and now quickly."

"You have those flashbacks often?" Olivia asked in concern.

"No, not often, but…sometimes. Mostly, when I'm under a lot of stress and a situation reminds me of that night. Today, it was trying to hide, half-trapped under the covers… Suddenly, I was back in my old apartment, with him." Dawn closed her eyes as she remembered, her breath once again becoming fast and shaky.

Olivia covered Dawn's hand with her own for a moment, rubbing her thumb over the clammy fingers. "You're not," she said softly. "You're here." With me.

Dawn opened her eyes and looked directly into Olivia's own.

Uncomfortably, Olivia cleared her throat and looked away. "I came by to bring you a copy of your formal statement. Alex Cabot wants you to read through it and refresh your memory before you meet with her tomorrow."

"I can do that," Dawn agreed. She took the document Olivia held out to her.

"Okay." Olivia moved towards the door, suddenly in a hurry to get far away from Dawn and her growing feelings for the younger woman.

"Why don't you stay a little longer?" Dawn suggested. "The apartment always seems so empty after the children are gone."

Olivia shook her head. The more time she spent in the psychologist's company, the more fascinating she found her, and that was dangerous. "I can't. I still have to review my reports on your case." It was a lie. She would look through the reports and statements again tonight, but she already knew them by heart.

Dawn nodded. "Will I see you before the trial?"

"Sure. We'll see each other in the witness room. I have to testify, too, remember?" She only realized after she had said it that Dawn had probably meant to ask whether she would see her in more private surroundings than the courthouse.

"Do you think you'll have to testify before I have to?" Dawn's question came without hesitation, making Olivia doubt if her former assumption had been correct.

She nodded. "I'm pretty sure that Alex will call me as her second or third witness. She likes to keep a somewhat chronological order of witnesses to avoid confusing the jury. And she usually spares her strongest witness for last."

Dawn swallowed audibly. "And that…that would be me?"

Olivia saw the nervousness in the green-gray eyes. "Alex believes in you. And so do I."

"I'm scared," Dawn admitted.

Olivia was tempted to pull her into a protective embrace but held herself back. "It will be over before you know it," she promised instead.

"You're not scared or nervous at all, are you?" Dawn looked at her with admiration.

"It's not the same for me; I'm just the detective working the case, not the victim here." Olivia was nervous, not so much about her own testimony but about Dawn's, and what effects it could have on her. Having to face her rapist and the defense attorney's questions had reduced many rape survivors to tears on the stand.

Olivia pushed back the intense wave of protectiveness flooding her and walked to the door. "I have to go." She reached for the door handle and pushed it down. "Keep your chin up, huh?"

"I'll try to," Dawn murmured.

Olivia left, unsatisfied with herself and the situation.

OFFICE OF

ASSISTANT DISTRICT ATTORNEY

ALEXANDRA CABOT

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 6

"That's it." Alex leaned back in her chair and nodded at the woman across from her. It had only taken two repetitions of the questions-and-answers-game until Alex was confident that Dawn Kinsley could handle herself on the witness stand.

Alex wished for a witness like that for all of her cases: A woman who was confident enough to look you right in the eyes while she told you what had happened to her, yet who also possessed a trace of vulnerability that resonated with many jurors. It also didn't hurt her credibility that she was a psychologist and a rape counselor.

"It was okay like that?" Dawn asked.

"Absolutely," Alex assured her. "Just look at me and answer as directly and with as many details as you can. You'll be fine."

Dawn nodded. "I heard jury selection was this morning. Do you have a good feeling about the group?"

Surprised, Alex studied the smaller woman. Except for the occasional victim who worked in law enforcement or in a legal profession, this was clearly the best informed witness she had ever encountered. Taking an active interest in her case was usually a good sign, but Alex wanted to make sure that there would be no surprises during the trial. "You have an inside source hidden somewhere?"

Dawn blushed. "No, I was a little early for our appointment, and I heard two of the potential jurors you had excused from jury duty talk about it."

Alex leaned back again. "It was the most extensive voir dire I had in quite some time." She looked at the other woman's face to see if she would have to explain that voire dire was the legal term for the jury selection.

"Why's that?" Dawn didn't blink an eye at the legalese.

"I tried to unearth prejudices against lesbians and exclude the homophobes, while the defense attorney sought to keep them in the panel because he hopes they'll sympathize with his client. D'Aquino tried to use his peremptory challenges to exclude everyone he suspected to be gay or have gay friends or family members."

Dawn looked up alarmed. "He can do that?"

"Theoretically, no. The law prohibits exclusions of jurors based upon their race or other criteria that make them belong to a cognizable group," Alex explained.

"And sexual orientation is such a criterion?"

Alex nodded. "According to People v. Garcia, yes. But when counsel can give a group neutral explanation for his challenge and I can't prove that it was not the real reason for the challenge, the judge has to overrule my objection."

Dawn rubbed her forehead, sighing. "Was I too naïve in thinking that my sexual orientation wouldn't be an issue in this trial?"

Despite what had happened to her, Dawn seemed to have an optimistic outlook on life, but Alex didn't find her to be naïve at all. "Not naïve, no. Normally, the sexual history of a rape victim is not admissible in court. No defense attorney is allowed to parade a dozen witnesses before a jury who testify to the victim's reputation as a slut. But in this case, I think we have to be the ones who bring up your sexual past."

"Is that really necessary?" Understandably, Dawn didn't seem enthusiastic about the idea.

"Yes. Your sexual orientation is the motive in our theory. If you testify that you identify as a lesbian, it contradicts Ballard's claim that you consented to have sex with him," Alex said.

Dawn nodded in understanding. "What are our chances for a conviction?"

There it was: the $1,000,000-question. Alex shrugged. "Normally, I would say they're more than good – we have DNA evidence, a solid identification in a line-up, and the Glock we found in his apartment."

"But?" Dawn prompted.

With any other victim, Alex probably would have left it at the more optimistic assessment, but she knew that this woman didn't want to be spared from the truth. "With the evidence we have, Ballard and D'Aquino are up to their necks, and a desperate lawyer is a dangerous lawyer. He'll use whatever he can get his hands on, and he'll try to discredit every single witness I call. If he can get enough jurors to buy Ballard's ridiculous story, we might be in trouble."

A rapid knock at the door interrupted them.

"Yes?" Alex called. A quick glance at her watch showed that it was already time for her appointment with the next victim. Getting lunch will have to wait, again, she noticed with regret. Her mother and whatever man would accompany her to the next fund-raiser or another social event would be thankful for it, but her stomach, at the moment, wasn't.

The door swung open, revealing Olivia Benson who gently led a nervous looking Melanie Riggs into the office. The young woman had been raped six months before and still couldn't leave the house on her own, so Alex had asked her detectives to drive her to the trial prep appointment.

"Hi, Alex; Dawn." Olivia nodded at the two women while she guided Melanie Riggs to the chair next to Dawn.

Alex observed how Dawn immediately turned towards the pale woman next to her and directed a few encouraging words towards her, getting her to relax a little. She looked away from the two women, when she saw Olivia setting something down onto her desk out of the corner of her eye. It wasn't the stack of reports she had halfway expected, but a mixed salad and a big sandwich.

Surprised, she looked up at the detective. "For me?"

Olivia nodded. "With jury selection and trial prep, I figured you probably hadn't eaten yet."

"Thanks." Alex picked a piece of tomato out of her salad and chewed it contently. "That was really nice of you."

Olivia shrugged casually. "Ah, we can't have our A.D.A. wasting away. Would be too much trouble to break in a new one just when we finally have the old one house-trained."

Alex waved her fork at the detective in mock anger. "I think that's your cue to leave before I decide that I need a search warrant executed at two a.m. tonight."

"I'm not on call tonight," Olivia declared triumphantly.

Alex smiled. "You would be, on my special request. After all, why should I work with another detective when I finally have the old ones house-trained?"

Olivia laughed and held up her hands. "Touché, Counselor. Back to work, it is."

Dawn stood. She leaned back down to Melanie Riggs, squeezing her hand. "You'll be just fine, believe me," she assured the nervous woman. "You're working with the best A.D.A. in the city." She smiled at Alex and nodded her goodbye.

DISTRICT ATTORNEY'S OFFICE

COUNTY OF NEW YORK

1 HOGAN PLACE

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 6

Dawn closed the door to Alex Cabot's office behind her and strolled down the hallway, noticing how Olivia slowed her strides and matched them to her own, shorter ones.

"Maybe she would have shared the sandwich if I had complimented her like that instead of calling her house-trained, huh?" Olivia joked, pointing back to the A.D.A.'s office.

Dawn studied the detective. "You like her," she observed. She found the gesture of bringing Alex lunch really sweet.

"Alex? Yeah, of course. Like you just said, she's the best A.D.A. in the city."

Dawn could have predicted that Olivia would say something like that, intentionally misunderstanding and interpreting Dawn's words in the context of her job. She knew that she should have just nodded and let her get away with it, but it was getting more and more difficult for her to just think of Olivia Benson as the detective working her case. It seemed like such a waste to only look at the surface when the woman she had gotten glimpses of behind the badge was so much more fascinating. After years of not letting her patients hide behind masks and roles, she couldn't let the detective do it. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."

Olivia glanced back at her. "She's a nice person," she added.

"Ah, ah, ah!" Dawn playfully waggled her finger at the detective. "That's not what I meant either. I was speaking of another kind of 'like'."

"And what kind of like would that be?" Olivia asked.

Dawn rolled her eyes and smiled. Oh, come on! As if you don't already know! "The 'I'd like to kiss her senseless at that two a.m. search warrant-execution or any other time' kind of like," she answered frankly. A mental image of Olivia and the A.D.A. in a passionate embrace appeared before her mind's eye, and although she had to admit that the two attractive women would make a beautiful pair, she found the picture strangely disturbing. This is not the place or time to be jealous – or the person to be jealous about! She reprimanded herself. Even if she wanted to have a relationship with you, her job wouldn't allow it and even after the trial…you can't give a woman like her what she needs…not after what has happened.

Olivia took her time answering. She opened the entrance door for Dawn and waited until they had both reached the parking lot before she spoke. "Well, that's not exactly what I thought, but…" Olivia shrugged. "…yeah, she's pretty attractive. I mean, come on, anyone with a pulse would notice Alexandra Cabot. I admire her, that's all."

"No, it's not," Dawn insisted, not really knowing why she was so intent on arguing this issue with Olivia.

"Okay," Olivia threw up her hands in a half-playful gesture of surrender, "so maybe it's more than just pure, innocent admiration; a bit of good old-fashioned lusting may be thrown in, too."

But once again, Dawn wasn't satisfied with the answer. "Why do you always play down your feelings?"

"I don't do that!" Olivia protested. Her voice rumbled a bit, sounding like a warning peal of thunder.

Since the rape, Dawn had always shrunk back from people displaying signs of anger, but now, she found that she wasn't afraid in the least. She knew instinctively that she had nothing to fear from Olivia. "Yes, you do," she calmly insisted. "You can admit professional respect and even lust but no deeper feelings. You pretend that your job and sex is all that's connecting you to people!" It made her sad that a woman as wonderful as Olivia Benson robbed herself of any meaningful relationship in life.

Olivia swirled around. Brown eyes that appeared almost black now were glowering down at Dawn. "Stop playing the psychologist with me!"

Dawn bit her lip. "I don't play the psychologist, I am a psychologist." She looked down at her hands and added in an almost-whisper: "But not when I'm with you."

Olivia froze. Angrily gesticulating hands fell limply back to her sides. Chocolate-colored eyes softened as they searched out Dawn's face. "Dawn…" Olivia breathed deeply, and then straightened her shoulders. "Can we agree not to have a conversation about things like that again, please?"

The detective had said it before, had signaled her before that she wasn't able or willing to discuss her private life with her. Dawn had understood it every time, even if she found it hard to accept. But for some reason, it felt like a personal rejection this time, and it hurt. "Okay," was all she could say through a constricting throat.

"At least, until the trial is over," Olivia added in a low voice.

Dawn's head lifted, but Olivia was looking anywhere but at her. Does that mean…? She searched Olivia's face. The detective-mask was firmly in place, not revealing any feelings. "Okay," Dawn said again.

"Come on," Olivia led her towards her small car. "Let's get out of here."

Part 10

OFFICE OF

ASSISTANT DISTRICT ATTORNEY

ALEXANDRA CABOT

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 6

Alex threw her pen down onto the legal pad and leaned back with a groan. It had been a long day, and now all she wanted was a nice glass of Chardonnay, a bath with four inches of bubbles, and eight hours of sleep. Come on, Cabot! One more trial prep and you can go home to both wine and bath. At least this time, it's Olivia and not a victim. She knows the drill, and you'll be out of here in half an hour.

A knock at the door interrupted her momentary daydreams. "Yes?"

Olivia's dark-haired head appeared in the doorway. "Hey…you all right? You look kind of beat."

After dealing with three rape victims in a row, she felt beat. Interacting with victims had never come as naturally to her as it did to Olivia. "Nothing a glass of wine and a hot bath wouldn't cure," she assured her detective.

Olivia stepped into her office and closed the door behind her.

Is that a blush I see on her cheeks? Alex held back a chuckle. She investigates horrible sex crimes for a living but blushes when I mention a bubble bath? Mercifully, she chose not to comment on it. She had dealt with the innocent and not-so-innocent crushes of coworkers and detectives before; had seen it too often not to recognize the admiration in Olivia's eyes.

While not exactly used to the admiring gazes from a woman, Alex didn't feel uncomfortable or threatened by it. Whatever Olivia felt or thought when she blushed like that, Alex knew that she was a dedicated police officer and a professional first and foremost. And someone she had come to think of as a friend.

"I'd suggest we take a rain check and do the prep another time, but seeing as the trial starts tomorrow…" Olivia shrugged.

Alex rounded her desk and sank down onto the small couch she had in her office. With a relieved sigh, she slipped out of her high heels. "It won't take long. You already know most of the questions I'll ask you on the stand… 'Detective Benson, you were called in by the responding unit on the night in question, correct?' et cetera, et cetera. We can skip the standard questions for now."

Olivia cleared her throat, intently studying the floor of Alex's office. "I should probably tell you that those questions aren't as standard as usual."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Alex gestured for Olivia to sit down.

"I wasn't called in by the responding unit," Olivia said. "I heard dispatch report a 10-34 in my immediate neighborhood and decided to drive over."

Alex stared at her detective. "You listen to your police scanner at three a.m.?" You really need to get a life, my friend. And so do I.

"I'd just come in from the precinct. It was the night of the Henderson arrest," Olivia explained.

"A 10-34…" Alex took off her glasses, playing with them with the fingers of one hand. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but that doesn't necessarily mean a sexual assault occurred, does it? It could have been something a Special Victims detective was not needed for."

Olivia tilted her head. "Could have, but…I had this feeling. And I recognized the address."

Alex sat up. "What's going on here, Olivia?" she demanded to know. "You knew the victim before this whole case started? Ever heard of conflict of interest? You should have excused yourself from the investigation! God, D'Aquino will rip us apart on cross!"

"Oh, come on, Alex!" Olivia stood and began to pace in the small space between the couch and the door. "I spent a total of twenty minutes in her company before she was raped; it's not like we were best buddies! I went to a lecture she gave, and when I met her the week after, she invited me to her apartment because she wanted me to speak to her support group for rape survivors – that's all! Do you really expect me to turn my back on a rape victim just because I'd seen her before?!"

Alex sighed. She knew that Olivia would never turn her back on a victim; it was part of who she was. "No, of course I don't. But I expected you to tell me."

"I'm telling you now."

"Not that it does me any good now." Alex looked at the ceiling, shaking her head. "I already turned in my witness list, and you're on it; I can't call Elliot to the stand instead of you."

Olivia looked down at her, her brown eyes a little anxious. "What are we gonna do?"

Alex shrugged. "What we always do: Hope for the best and prepare for the worst."

SUPREME COURT

NEW YORK COUNTY

60 CENTRE STREET

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 7

Dawn looked up at the courthouse. The steps leading to the portal behind Corinthian columns seemed endless. With a deep breath, she started towards them; the loyal horde of her companions following silently behind her.

Her mother, Caleb, and Eliza and her husband were there; even her colleagues, Charlie Rosenbloom and Allie Barry, had taken the day off to hear the opening statements with her. Dawn was grateful for their company but, as she slowly made her way towards the courthouse entrance, she looked around, wishing for the reassuring presence of a certain detective.

She stepped through the heavy doors, her footfalls on the marbled floor echoing loudly through the columned hall. There, by the metal detector, leaned a familiar, dark-haired figure. It wasn't the police officer Dawn had been on the lookout for, but she would certainly do. "Lieutenant Delicia Vasquez Montero!" she called and enjoyed the look on the tall woman's face when she turned around.

The annoyance on the coffee-colored face turned into a smile. With three quick steps the powerful legs had crossed the space between them, and Dawn found herself engulfed in a warm embrace. "Don't call me that, grasshopper! You'll ruin my reputation."

The words and the familiar nickname rumbled through the chest Dawn's cheek rested against, and she closed her eyes for a moment, relaxing into the comfort provided by the only aunt she had ever known. "Hi, Del."

"Hey, sweetie." Dawn felt a kiss being pressed onto the crown of her head. "How are you?"

"Hanging in there." Dawn stepped back a little to study the woman in front of her. Only a few gray hairs at the temples showed in the short, jet-black hair, but other than that, Del Vasquez was still the same strong woman Dawn had known growing up.

Del had studied her, too, and now she shook her head with a sad, but affectionate smile. "You look more like your dad every day."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Dawn said.

"It is a compliment," Del emphasized. "He was the best damn partner I ever had. The young cops these days…" She shook her head and trailed off, looking at something to her right. "Speaking of young cops…one of 'em is staring at us right now."

Dawn turned in the direction Del was pointing in.

Olivia Benson was leaning against one of the hall's columns. She was wearing neatly pressed black slacks and a form-fitting crème-colored turtleneck. The leather jacket Dawn had come to love had been traded in favor of a more conservative blazer; the detective's badge dangling proudly from its breast pocket. Olivia didn't smile or move any closer when she saw Dawn looking at her; she just gave her a curt nod.

Great! Is that kind of cool, overly professional behavior what I have to look forward to until after the trial? Or is she just keeping her distance because Del's standing next to me? Dawn wondered.

"She a secret admirer or your protective detail or what?" Del asked from behind her.

"Uh…no, not exactly…" How could she explain to her old friend what Olivia was to her when she wasn't sure herself?

Del's brow lifted. "'Not exactly' to the admirer or to the protector part?"

Dawn looked down at her feet. "I don't know. To both, maybe."

"Ah." Del stepped next to her and looked at Olivia with renewed interest.

"She's the detective who arrested Ballard," Dawn hastily added, wanting to interrupt the close scrutiny Olivia was under.

"Then I definitely want to meet her." Del resolutely waved to the younger detective.

Dawn groaned. "You've gotten used to ordering cops around since your promotion, huh?"

"You bet!" Del grinned. "One of the perks of my job."

Dawn noticed that the ordering around seemed to work as Olivia approached them. "Lieutenant Vasquez." She nodded at the older officer. "Dawn."

Del folded strong arms across her chest and looked down at the slightly smaller detective. "Do we know each other?" Olivia had correctly addressed her with the first, not the second part of her last name.

"Not really. I worked with some of your detectives on the Swanell case last month. Detective Olivia Benson with the 1-6, Ma'am," Olivia said respectfully.

"God, don't ma'am me!" Del groaned. "Bad enough that the grasshopper here shouted my dreadful first name across the whole courthouse. Benson, 1-6…Special Victims, right?"

Olivia nodded. "Yes, Lieutenant."

Del scrutinized her closely; her black eyes looked at the younger detective with the same piercing gaze Dawn's father had always used when he'd met a person who might someday become important to his daughter. In some regard, Del had taken over her father's part in Dawn's life after his death.

Olivia held her gaze, managing not to look too uncomfortable.

Finally, Del relented and held out her hand. "Call me Del."

Surprise flickered over Olivia's face for a moment, then the detective mask was back, and she shook Del's hand with a nod.

"Excuse me for a moment, grasshopper." Del softly clapped Dawn on the shoulder. "I have to go say hello to Gracie. Take care of her, Detective."

A little embarrassed, Dawn shook her head, watching as Del hugged her mother.

"What was that?" Olivia asked, not appearing as distant as before. She allowed her confusion to show.

"That," Dawn turned back to Olivia, "was my overprotective aunt."

Olivia stared at her. "Lieutenant Vasquez is your aunt? Excuse me if I sound politically incorrect, but…you don't look like a Latin girl to me."

"What, you mean I don't have that kind of exotic, vivacious sex appeal?" Dawn pretended to pout.

"Uh…" The detective was clearly caught off-guard by the comment. She kept silent, not wanting to reveal whatever opinion of Dawn's sex appeal she might have.

Dawn laughed. She had needed that to distract herself from the trial that would soon start. "She's my aunt in spirit," she explained. "My dad's partner; the one I told you about."

"It's good that you have her," Olivia said. The brown eyes showed that she understood what Del meant to her.

"Yeah." Dawn nodded. "We almost lost her once. After dad died, Del stopped coming around. She felt guilty that she hadn't been able to save him; that she had survived while dad died. She felt like she had failed us."

Olivia nodded in understanding. "I wouldn't know how to face Kathy and the kids if anything should ever happen to Elliot."

"Survivor's guilt," Dawn murmured. "One day, mom had enough of Del avoiding us. There was some shouting and screaming from mom, some tears from both of them and Del has been coming to see us at least once a week since then."

She watched as Del wrapped one arm around her mother's shoulder and steered her down the hall towards Dawn and Olivia.

Olivia stepped back as the whole group, with Dawn in the middle, started to move toward the courtroom. Del wrapped her free arm around Dawn and only let go when they reached the double doors leading to Trial part 74.

Del stepped through the doors first, leading the group to the prosecution's side of the gallery. Dawn sat down between her mother and Del. She almost giggled, in spite of her tension, when she saw Del once again using her patented Lieutenant-wave to get Olivia into the seat next to her. God, Del, please don't scare her off! The poor woman has to feel like some highschool-boy meeting the parents of the girl he wants to take to the prom!

All thoughts of Del and Olivia fled from her mind when she saw Garett Ballard sitting behind the defense table. She felt her heart begin to hammer and forced herself to calm down and look at him as objectively as she could. In the light of day he appeared human, like someone with whom she would share polite conversation over tea. Then his head lifted and he looked directly at Dawn. She shuddered under the gaze of the cold blue eyes.

"You okay?" Olivia and Del asked at the same time, looking at her with concern, then at each other. After a second, both officers leaned back, giving the other precedence to speak to Dawn.

"What is it with those two?" Grace whispered from the other side. "Is there some bad blood between them?"

"No, mom. Let's talk about it later," Dawn whispered back. Much later, like never. Her mother, while shocked but supportive after her coming out, had never been a big fan of Maggie. After Dawn's first and only relationship with a woman had ended, Grace seemed to prefer thinking that it had just been an experimenting phase and Dawn would turn to a man for her next relationship. Dawn had never told her otherwise; it was a moot point when she herself hadn't been sure of the gender of the next person she would fall in love with. Now, it was looking more and more like that person was a woman, and Dawn didn't want to complicate an already complicated situation any further by telling her mother about it.

"All rise!" the bailiff called out, interrupting any other thoughts. "This court is now in session. The Honorable Judge Lena Petrovsky presiding."

The black robes rustled as Judge Petrovsky took her place behind the tall mahogany bench. "Be seated," she said, scanning over lawyers, jury, and audience.

The judge addressed the jury and gave instructions Dawn had heard in many of her patients' trials before and therefore didn't really listen to, too busy trying to control her churning nerves.

"Miss Cabot," Petrovsky's voice caught her attention, "are you ready to deliver your opening statement?"

Alex Cabot rose, smoothing her skirt with a practiced gesture. "Yes, Your Honor." Calmly, she rounded the prosecution's table and strolled towards the Jury Box. "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen." She nodded at the jurors as if she knew each and every one of them by name – and perhaps she did. Dawn had heard that good attorneys memorized the juror's last names, and Alex Cabot was certainly impressive.

"The case you were chosen to hear is a case about hate," Alex began and took another step towards the Jury Box. "You are here today because of a man's primitive, uncontrolled hate against lesbian women. On the night of October 6^th, this man broke into the apartment of Dawn Kinsley." Alex paused to turn toward Dawn, giving the jurors ample opportunity to look into the face of one of the victims and see the fear in her eyes.

Dawn didn't have to act to give the jury the impression of a frightened victim. As Alex began to describe the circumstances of her rape, she was afraid, not only of her memories and the presence of her rapist in the room, but also because she feared having a flashback right here in the courtroom, in front of all these people. She squared her shoulders, determined to pretend it was someone else they were talking about.

"He ripped her phone line out and threw away her cell phone, leaving her helpless and without any chance to call for help. He pressed a gun against her head," Alex held her index finger against her temple and let her gaze wander over the rows of jurors while she did so, "he threatened and hit her and then, he brutally raped her in her own bed." The A.D.A.'s voice was clear and confident, painting a vivid picture for the jurors.

Dawn distracted herself by gazing around the room, looking at anything but Garett Ballard or the prosecutor telling the story of her rape. She glanced to her right, where Del and Olivia sat side by side, both looking calm and collected but with an intense, righteous anger in their dark eyes. Dawn looked down at their hands; the strong, competent hands of trained protectors, which rested in the exact same positions against their thighs – ready to draw the duty weapon they'd had to leave behind at the courthouse entrance.

"He moved fast, he had a plan, and he acted without any scruples," Alex continued her opening statement. "Miss Kinsley, who is also a psychologist and rape counselor, will testify that he wasn't nervous at all – because, like the police later discovered, he had committed this heinous crime before. The same man had raped Melanie Riggs and Jayne Matthews." Another pause from Alex to let her words sink in and to point to the two other victims.

"The People will prove during this trial that it was this man," Alex extended her slender arm, pointing in a meaningful gesture toward the man sitting next to the defense attorney, "the defendant, Garett Ballard, who brutally raped these women. You will hear not only how the victims identified Mr. Ballard in a line-up, but you'll also see DNA evidence that will prove, beyond reasonable doubt, that no other man could have committed the crime."

Alex directed an ironic smile towards the defense table. "The defense will try to tell you that the defendant's semen was found on Miss Kinsley because they had unprotected consensual sex. But that's not what the E.R. physician or Miss Kinsley will testify to and I want you to ask yourselves: Why would she lie?" Alex looked at the jurors questioningly. "Because she hates Mr. Ballard? Because she wanted revenge? For what? Keep in mind, before that night, she had never seen Mister Ballard before, nor had Miss Matthews or Miss Riggs. We have not one, but three witnesses, three victims who accuse Garett Ballard of raping them. Why would all of them lie?

Turning towards the gallery for a second, Alex's gaze searched out the detectives sitting there. "In addition, police officers will testify how they found the gun used to threaten Miss Kinsley with in the defendant's apartment – a gun he wouldn't have needed for consensual sex, would he?" She shook her head. "It is not the victims that are the ones with plans of hate and revenge. The defendant is. Because his mother left the family for another woman when he was a child, he developed a pathological hate against lesbians. He sought employment as a bouncer at a lesbian club for the sole reason of gaining access to the addresses of lesbian women which he then used to break into their apartments."

As the opening statement went on and on, Dawn felt herself grow anxious. Had she sat next to Olivia, she would have taken her hand to try and calm herself down, even if she wasn't sure how Olivia or anyone else in the courtroom would react to it. Instead, another strong hand, that of Del, covered her own and gave her fingers a soft squeeze. Dawn squeezed back before returning her attention to Alex Cabot.

"So, Mister Ballard has motive, opportunity, and the means to commit these hateful crimes." Alex counted it off on her fingers. "At the conclusion of this case, we believe that you will be able to find beyond any reasonable doubt that Garett Ballard raped three women, and, well aware of his guilt, tried to resist arrest by assaulting a police officer." She nodded at the jury members with conviction. "I ask you to weigh all the evidence that is presented, without hate and prejudice against the victims or the defendant, and then return with a verdict of guilty. Thank you."

Dawn took a few deep breaths as the A.D.A. returned to her table and sat back down.

Judge Petrovsky leaned forward. "The prosecutor has completed her opening statement. Does defense counsel wish to give his opening statement now?"

"Yes, Your Honor." The defense attorney rose from his seat, buttoning his suit jacket. "Victor D'Aquino representing Mister Ballard. Your Honor, Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the prosecution wants you to believe this is a case about hate but it is not, because my client is not a hateful man."

Dawn glanced towards Ballard, who sat behind the defense table with his hands folded, looking to the world as if he couldn't even hurt a fly.

"Garett Ballard is just a man who supports himself with hard work as a security specialist. In this line of work, he's used to protecting and helping people, to prevent danger and harm, not to cause it," D'Aquino continued to paint his client in glorious colors.

Dawn shuddered with disgust. He's equating that bastard with honest cops who are out there every day, risking their lives to protect innocent people?!

"Mister Ballard has no previous criminal record; he never caused anyone any problems, and his employer will testify that he held no ill feelings towards lesbians. So, what this case is about is an innocent man wrongfully accused of crimes he didn't commit!" D'Aquino gesticulated as if he had just uncovered a conspiracy against his client.

"As Her Honor instructed you, an opening statement is not evidence. The prosecution simply told you their theory about what happened on the night of October 6^th, but the problem with the prosecution's case is – they don't have one. There - never - was - a – rape," the defense attorney emphasized every word. "Mister Ballard had sex with consenting, adult women, which is not a crime. All so-called evidence to suggest otherwise is circumstantial at best. The prosecution has neither eye witnesses nor substantial pieces of evidence to prove a rape. The only thing they've got is the testimony of the alleged victims – the unverified accusations of women who decided to sleep with my client despite their self-claimed identities as lesbians and then, after the heat and passion of the moment was over, were too embarrassed to admit to a heterosexual affair, claiming it a rape instead."

Dawn stared at him in disbelief. Since when is it embarrassing not to be gay?!

"You heard the prosecution mention how Mister Ballard allegedly tried to resist arrest," D'Aquino addressed the other charge against his client. "What it actually was is a man just doing his job, like those police officers did, too. What Miss Cabot failed to tell you is that on the evening of his arrest, two plain-clothes detectives – not uniformed police officers – came up to my client at the front door of the club he had been assigned to watch over. And that was exactly what he did. He didn't recognize them as police officers but thought of them as troublemakers trying to get into the club, and he acted accordingly."

Troublemakers? Dawn looked at Olivia, then at Elliot who sat somewhere behind his partner in the second row of the gallery. Every inch of them spoke of dedicated police officers. No one could mistake them for troublemakers trying to get into the club without paying.

Victor D'Aquino held up his index finger. "Remember, my client is presumed innocent until proven otherwise. I am confident that, after hearing all the evidence and testimony in this case, you'll agree with me that the prosecution has not been able to prove Mister Ballard's guilt beyond a reasonable doubt and find him not guilty. Thank you."

Judge Petrovsky lifted her gavel. "Before we hear the case for the prosecution, we'll take a ten minute recess so that all witnesses who will be called later can leave the courtroom."

Dawn immediately stood, glad to leave the courtroom and the whole trial behind her for as long as she could.

TRIAL PART 74

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 7

Lena Petrovsky waved to her clerk. "Bring in the jury, please." She waited until all the jurors had taken their places, and then nodded at Alex. "Call your first witness."

Alex rose, glancing back towards the double doors. "The People call Officer Jonathan Riley to the stand." She watched in dissatisfaction as the young officer walked towards the witness stand. His more experienced partner, Officer Trent, was out with the flu, leaving Alex with the rookie at the last minute. She wasn't looking forward to his cross-exam by D'Aquino, but there was nothing she could do about it now.

Alex waited until Riley had been sworn in before she rounded the prosecution's table and stepped in front of the witness box. "Officer Riley, you are a police officer with the 19^th precinct, responsible for the area Miss Kinsley lives in, is that correct?"

Riley fiddled with the tie of his uniform. The nervousness he displayed didn't bode well for his testimony and the impression he left with the jurors. "Yes, that's correct."

"On the night of Saturday, October 6^th, you and your partner, Officer Trent, responded to a call at 1228 Lexington Avenue, did you not?"

"Yes, Ma'am, we did. The call came over the radio at approximately 0330 hours. Dispatch reported an assault at that location."

Alex nodded. "When you arrived at the crime scene—"

"Objection, Your Honor!" The defense attorney sprang up from his seat before Alex could finish her question. "Assumes facts not in evidence! Miss Kinsley's apartment is not the scene of any crime that's been proven yet!"

Alex looked at him over the rim of her glasses. Nitpicking and bickering like that won't bring you any points with the jury or with Petrovsky, you little idiot, so by all means keep it up! "I'll rephrase, Your Honor," she offered before Petrovsky could rule. "Officer Riley, would you please tell us what you encountered when you arrived at the location in question?"

"The apartment was a mess," Riley blurted out. "Through the bedroom door, I could see a knocked over chair and a lamp, I think. There were some objects; books, figurines, a pair of broken glasses and such, scattered across the floor."

Alex turned and lifted a photograph from the prosecution table, carrying it to the witness stand. "I'm showing you what's been marked as People's exhibit one for identification. Can you tell the jury what is pictured on this photograph?"

"It's a photograph of Miss Kinsley's bedroom. It was taken on the night in question."

Alex carried the photograph to the jury box, letting the jurors see the destruction in Dawn's apartment with their own eyes, before she returned to her witness. "What about Miss Kinsley? How did she appear?"

Officer Riley fingered his tie again. "Her clothing was torn, and a bruise was forming on her cheek."

Alex held up two transparent evidence bags. "Officer Riley, have you ever seen these exhibits before?" She laid the evidence bags down in front of the young officer.

"Yes," Riley answered. "I believe this is the clothing Miss Kinsley wore on October 6^th."

Alex turned, showing the torn T-shirt and panties to the jury members. "What conclusions did you draw from the state Miss Kinsley and her apartment were in?"

"Objection!" came the expected interruption from the defense table. "Your Honor, she's calling for a conclusion on the part of the witness!"

"Overruled," Petrovsky said, like Alex had thought she would. "The witness is a trained police officer; I want to hear his conclusions. Please answer, Officer Riley."

"I thought it likely that an assault had occurred," the officer answered.

Alex nodded in satisfaction. "Thank you, Officer. No further questions." She sat down and watched defense counsel rise for his cross-examination.

"Officer Riley," D'Aquino stepped close to the young cop so he would tower above him, "how long have you been a police officer?"

Alex had seen it coming. She held back a grimace.

"Since last year," Riley answered.

"Just last year," D'Aquino repeated, in case one of the jurors hadn't caught it the first time. "And how long have you been working in the field?"

Riley seemed a little embarrassed now, well aware of his inexperience. "Two months."

"And in those two months, have you ever been summoned to the site of a sexual assault before?" the defense lawyer continued his questioning.

"No, Sir," the young officer had to admit, "this was my first."

D'Aquino nodded. "Have you ever met Miss Kinsley before that night?"

"No, of course not."

"Is it safe to say then, Officer Riley, that you have no frame of reference to assess her appearance or her behavior?"

Jonathan Riley hesitated. "I guess not."

"In your direct examination, you said that you saw the objects on the floor through the bedroom door…so, you weren't actually in the bedroom, were you?"

"Miss Kinsley didn't want me to…," Riley stammered, "she was pretty shaken, and we were waiting for a female detective—"

"A simple yes or no, please!" the defense attorney demanded. "Were you or were you not in the bedroom?"

The officer's shoulders slumped. "No, I wasn't."

"So, not having seen the evidence at close range, how could you be sure that the objects scattered about the bedroom floor hadn't simply gotten there by two people having passionate sex, tumbling into the apartment, kissing and tearing each other's clothes off?" D'Aquino asked.

"It didn't look like that," Riley answered weakly.

"From the distance," D'Aquino muttered.

Alex stood. "Objection! Is there a question?"

"Withdrawn. No further questions." The defense attorney returned to his seat.

The judge looked at Alex. "Redirect, Miss Cabot?"

"Yes, Your Honor." Alex knew she couldn't leave it like that. D'Aquino had destroyed Riley's credibility. "Officer Riley, how did the living room of Miss Kinsley's apartment look when you arrived?"

"Tidy, Ma'am. No signs of a struggle," the man sweating on the witness stand answered.

"How would you expect a living room to look if two people having passionate sex, tumbling into the apartment, kissing and tearing each other's clothes off, had stumbled through on their way to the bedroom?" Alex asked, consciously quoting the defense's argument. She hoped that even the inexperienced officer had caught on to what she was trying to get him to say by now.

"If that was the case, there would have been some scattered objects in the hallway and the living room, too," Riley answered.

"Thank you; nothing further." Alex sat back down.

Part 11

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