A/N: Here it is! Montana! The long awaited prequel! I'm setting this right around the time of Florida and Annihilated. Each chapter will be a different POV, but the POV will remain the same for the whole chapter. I'll tell you in the a/n at the beginning of each chapter, K? Enjoy! R&R. XO, KJ

POV: Liv

Dedication: Sam. Whom I just may relinquish my smut crown to… Naaaah. We'll share. Thanks for helping my muse find her way home girl!! XO!

Disclaimer: Only my overactive imagination belongs to me.


I'm trying so hard to concentrate on the pile of paperwork my boss assigned me, but I can't. I keep looking up at my partner and daydreaming. Like a thirteen-year-old. Only my daydreams? Not what I'd call PG-13. I think an NC-17 rating would be a stretch. More like XXX. This time, when I look up at him, instead of looking right back down at my paperwork, my mind wanders a little. He's relaxed back in his chair, his legs crossed at the ankle, his grey cross-trainers balanced on the edge of his desk. What would he do? What would Elliot Stabler do if I got up, walked over to him, straddled his lap and kissed the living daylights out of him? Would he awkwardly stare at me? Hell no, this is my fantasy. He'd kiss me back. He'd kiss me back, pull my sweater off over my head and run his tongue over my skin. He'd flick open the front clasp of my bra and take my breasts in his hands. He'd kiss them, licking through the valley in between. He'd groan his appreciation and tell me how good I smelled. What about when I touched him? If I reached between our bodies and grabbed hold of him like I'd thought about doing a million times but never had the guts to do? What if I unzipped his pants? What if I was wearing a skirt? A skirt and no panties? What if we –

Elliot clears his throat and it snaps my mind back to my mountain of manilla folders. My partner and I both used some unethical methods to get confessions in the past couple weeks and now? Ass duty. Too much of which makes for an over-charged Detective Benson and an over-active imagination.

"You two. My office, now." Cragen commands, sticking his head out of his office.

Great. In trouble again. After the stunts we've both pulled the last couple weeks, I can't say I'm incredibly surprised.

My partner and I both rise from our positions across from each other at our desks and head to our boss's office. Elliot enters first, with me right behind him. I glance over to the corner and see Dana Lewis, aka Star Morrison, my old boss at the FBI.

"Sit," Cragen commands.

"Look, boss," Elliot begins.

"Elliot? Shut. Up." Cragen glares at Elliot as he issues the command.

He shuts his mouth and sits down in one of the chairs facing Don's desk. I take the other and Captain Cragen crosses the room to the door and shuts it.

"You two," he begins. He sighs heavily. "I'm not sure what in the hell has gotten into you two the past few weeks, but I'm done dealing with it. You need some time away from this unit, and the FBI has very generously offered to take you off my hands for awhile."

I glance up at Dana and see a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Am I going back to Oregon?" I ask.

"Not exactly," she says. "I'm sending you to Montana."

"What about me?" Elliot asks.

"You're going with her," Cragen says. I look to Dana for clarification.

"We've got a problem, obviously. Three weeks ago, Jake Jennings was kidnapped from FAO Schwartz. We've managed to track the kidnapper to a tiny town in Montana, but that's where the trail runs cold. It's a small ranching and farming community that does a booming tourism business in the summer. During the off-season, it's got a population around two hundred people. But, the kid seems to have disappeared into thin air. It's been a mystery for some of our top agents, and when Don contacted me about his, um, problem with the two of you, I said I'd take you."

"So that's how this works? We piss you off and you farm us out to the feds?" Elliot asks.

"No, Elliot. You both could have killed a suspect. That's why I'm farming you out to the feds. And, Jake was kidnapped in your jurisdiction, Detective."

"And it's not going to be that long, Detective," Dana informs him. "The sooner you help us find Jake, the sooner you get to come home."

"And provided you don't actually kill anyone while you're gone," Captain Cragen pauses and gives us both a pointed look. "Your jobs will still be here when you get back."

Elliot nods, and I can tell he's less than thrilled with the situation, judging by the butane flames in his eyes. "When do we go?" he asks tersely.

"Tonight," Don responds.

"Anything else?" I ask.

"Get packed," Dana says with a soft smile. "I'll brief you on the full case when you get out to Jackson." Elliot glares at her as he stands and heads for the door. I follow him out, my ears perking up at the two of them talking in Don's office.

"Don't worry, Don. This will help."

"I don't know, Dana. You sure this is going to work?"

"Positive. They'll be right as rain in no time."

What the hell? I wonder, wandering back to my desk.

"What happened?" Fin asks.

"We're getting farmed out to the feds," Elliot snaps, perching on the edge of his desk.

"Could be worse," John points out.

Elliot opens his mouth to retort, but I put my hand on his shoulder to stop him. "We know," I say.

"When do you guys leave?"

"Tonight," Elliot says.

"We better get packed," I say, handing Elliot his leather jacket.


"Jesus Christ, Liv. Are you sure the kitchen sink wouldn't fit in one of these bags?" Elliot bitches.

"Okay. Family meeting," I command.

"What?" he asks sulkily.

"Elliot, we can hate this, or we can make due. But I will not listen to you be all," I gesture up and down and around with my hand. "Captain Brooding Intensity for however long we're stuck in the sticks. I'll kill you first."

"Oh yeah?" he snaps. "Get me handcuffed to a table, pull the chair out from under me and kick the crap out of me?" he bites. My mind floods with images of Elliot being handcuffed, and it sure as hell isn't a table he's cuffed to. In any of them.

"If. You're. Lucky." I threaten. He opens his mouth to say something, but wisely closes it again.

"Smart man," I commend him. "Now would you pretty please help me get this stuff out to the Navigator?" I ask with a fake saccharine sweetness in my voice.

"How long are we doing this?" he mutters to my retreating back.


"Sorry," he repeats.

Trust me, buddy, you don't want to be doing this any more than I do. My last wish is to be stuck in closed quarters with you twenty-four hours a day. I think I might die of sexual frustration.


A/N: Short, I know. But were you surprised to see it?! I have some ideas now that Miss Muse is back!! Let me know what you thought! XO, Kinsey