So this is my first fanfiction EVER! I am super excited about this! I'm not quite sure if it's good enough, but I would really appreciate it if you R&R! I will post the 1st chapter, and wait for reviews before posting the rest!
Note: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING!
Also: this takes place somewhere within seasons 11 and 12...
An SVU fanfiction
Sally Anthony was running. Her heart raced as she made her way through the uncommonly busy city she called "home." She stopped on a street corner, and checked her watch.
Where was Rachel?
Sally paced up and down, catching her breath. The morning air chilled her to the bone, but she liked it. She looked back at her watch.
Where was Rachel?
Sally's best friend, and morning-jog buddy was never late. Ever. Well, that is unless her fiancé, Peter, had stopped by the night before…
Sally chuckled. That had to be the reason her friend was late. Rachel and her fiancé probably had a late night last night. A really late night.
Sally decided to surprise her love-struck friend. Rachel's apartment building wasn't too far, so Sally walked in that direction.
"Rach? Hello?" Sally knocked cautiously on apartment 2A's door. She tried the handle, and, much to her surprise, it opened, "Yeah, Rachel, your door is unlocked! Ah, man…" Sally wriggled her noise at the slightly messy living room her friend was oh so proud of, "Really, Rachel…You need a maid, or something…Jesus Christ, is that a lava lamp?" She sneered at the hippy artifact on the coffee table. It was only one of the many items her tomboy friend had come to cherish," It's a good thing Peter has some taste, or else your guys' house would look like a college dorm room! Yo, Rachel, are you even up?" Sally walked over to the bedroom door, and knocked harshly," Come on, Rach! I don't care how amazing the sex was, you DO NOT want fat wedding photos!" She opened the door, expecting to find her friend sound asleep, but was horrified to find this was not the case, "Oh my god!" Sally let out a deathly scream, and raced for the phone in the kitchen.
"9-1-1, what is your emergency?"
Sally stuttered as she glanced back and forth from Rachel and Peter. Rachel was stripped down to her panties and a rope was tied around her neck, strangling the life out of her. Her eyes were cold with death, and her whole body was covered in bruises.
Peter was lying in a pool of blood, with a knife dug deep in his back. The crimson blood had already begun to seep into the carpet of Rachel's bedroom.
"My…m-my friend's b-been m-m-murdered!"
*queue theme song* hehehe
Detective Elliot Stabler lied wide awake in bed. He was alert and full of energy, which was weird for so early in the morning. His physical body was excited and anxious, but his inner self was worn down with thoughts of other things. His family, his kids, Cathy, Eli, Olivia….
He sat up
Why am I thinking of her?
He let out a frustrated sigh
Man, I've got to stop this…
He was beginning to drift back to sleep, but another thought crossed his mind: What exactly did he need to stop?
His mind wandered from his kids, to Olivia, to Cathy, to Eli and then back to Olivia…
He tried to convince himself that his sleep deprivation was the reason he was thinking about…her…
Elliot reached to grab his cell-phone from off the side table.
"Stabler," he whispered into the phone.
It was Cragen, "Hey, sorry to wake you, but we've got another case…" He read off an address and Elliot wrote it down on an old napkin, "Olivia will meet-"
"Yeah, thanks Cap'." Elliot cut him off and ended the call. He let out another sigh.
Another case, another perp, another victim.
"Good morning, Sunshine!" Detective Olivia Benson greeted her partner as he approached the crime scene. She noticed his unusually disheartened expression, "You OK?" She asked, growing concerned.
Elliot nodded mindlessly, "Yeah sure…What have we got?"
Olivia began to fill him in, "Rachel Andrews and Peter Carlton, both mid-thirties. Peter," she pointed to the man lying on the floor, "was Rachel's fiancé, according to her friend, Sally Anthony, who found the bodies."
Elliot looked around the room, absorbing what he saw and heard.
"And how'd the perp get in?" He asked.
"Sally told me that the door was unlocked when she came here this morning at around 5:45. CSU found no sign of forced entry on the door or the four windows into the apartment. So…"
"So they must have known him enough to open the door to him…" Elliot finished Olivia's sentence.
She nodded in return.
They stood gazing at the scene before them. They were used to this: standing in a crime scene, loathing the world they tried so hard to protect. Both Olivia and Elliot felt it their duty to speak for the victims and defend the innocent, while guarding the city against pedophiles and rapists. But with every convicted perp, comes another one, more horrible than the first; with every victim who can sleep at night, there is one more whose nightmares are only the beginning. It never seems to end.
ME. Warner and a new Techie interrupted their concentrated reverie, and began to walk them through the scene.
"The perp went after Peter first; silently from behind. Rachel was next. She must have put up a hell of a fight, because there are defensive wounds up and down her arms," Melinda said.
The techie continued explaining as Warner went to further inspect the victim lying in the bed, "Yeah, he grabbed her, and started punching her. Then he pushed her onto the bed, and pulled off her dress. We found the dress under the bed. Anyway, once he was done…you know…"
"Raping her?" Elliot chimed in.
"Yeah, that…he took this rope to strangle her, and he tied it to the bedpost after she was dead."
"We don't have much forensics, but if you stick around, I'm sure we'll find something…" Warner said, hoping this word of encouragement would brighten the pair's spirits, but a heavy sigh from both detectives proved her endeavor was not a success.
"How are 'New York's finest' this fine morning?" Detective John Munch asked as Elliot and Olivia entered the precinct. He offered each a cup of coffee, and earnestly waited for a reply.
"Crappy," Elliot said, sitting with a discontented groan.
"Glad to hear that…" Munch retorted and stalked off to his desk.
Detective Fin walked up to Elliot's desk, "So, did you find anything at the crime scene?"
Elliot leaned forward in his chair, rubbing his tired eyes, "Not a thing…There were no figure prints in the apartment, no foreign fibers, no hair, no footprints, no debris, and no seamen in Rachel Andrews. Not a single piece of evidence…"
"Nothing?" Fin looked apologetically over to Olivia, hoping Elliot's account was exaggerated.
"Nothing," She answered, confirming his fear.
Elliot walked over to the large computer screen, and pulled up the crime scene photos. Munch returned to the group and looked over the case file along with the others.
"You know what this seems like?" He said, offering his view of things, "It seems to me that Peter is your guy."
Olivia objected, "But Peter was stabbed in the back, there is no way he could have killed himself like that…"
"I didn't say he killed himself. So here's how it plays out: They go out on a date, afterwards they go to her place, he makes a move, she doesn't want to, he rapes her in a fit of rage, and then BOOM! She's got a knife hidden under the pillow. He stumbles off, and the rope wraps tighter around her neck as she tries to escape and it kills her."
Olivia still wasn't buying it, "Munch, this is an engaged couple we are talking about here, not some spring-fling-date-rape. These people were going to spend the rest of their lives together. I have talked to the families; both of the families say Rachel and Peter were the perfect couple. They were going to get married, buy a house, have five kids, and grow old together. I just don't see Peter flying into a so called 'fit of rage.' It doesn't seem right..."
"Well, maybe Munch has a point," Elliot interjected. He walked and stood beside Olivia, gazing at the pictures as he spoke, "I mean, there aren't any signs of a break in, and there isn't a scrape of evidence to prove they were with someone."
"But why would Peter do that?" She asked.
"Well, sometimes when two people decide to get married, tempers flare and arguments arise. Heck, even after the wedding, and the five kids," He let out a muffled chuckle, and turned to face Olivia. She was looking at him intently.
"You speaking from experience?" She asked, holding his gaze.
Elliot had to force himself to break away from her stare. He was not going to allow her to start this conversation now. He needed more time to figure out how he was going to let her know…The last time this happened, he had left guilty about not telling her. But why? She didn't need to know anything about what was going on in his personal life… But then again she was his partner…she had every right to know what was going on…what was going wrong…
He shrugged his shoulders and looked at anything in the room besides her. Munch and Fin were going on and on about Munch's theory, but were interrupted when Cragen walked up to them. He wore a sullen expression and his eyes were down-cast.
"Is something wrong, Cap'?" Fin asked.
Cragen nodded, "We've got another murder; same MO as the other."
Elliot and Olivia looked at each other in defeat. Their killer had struck again.
"Where?" Olivia asked, looking back to her captain.
"Here are the particulars, but I want Fin and Munch to handle this one," he said, handing the note card off to a baffled Munch.
Elliot objected, "But Captain we-"
"No arguing, Stabler. Now you two, go," He waved Munch and Fin away, but remained to speak with Elliot and Olivia, "Elliot I'm suggesting that you take the afternoon off. Go home to the kids, take a nap. I don't want to see your face till tomorrow morning, is that understood? Same goes for you Benson."
"Captain, I'm not going anywhere until we get a lead on this case," Olivia declared.
"Besides, we've only just begun to look in on our own victims. You can't possibly expect us to give up at the start of the game," Elliot added.
Cragen looked at both detectives. He knew they wouldn't leave, but he wanted to be sure they were rested. This case may prove to be tougher than they thought, and he needed them to be prepared.
"Alright, you can stay. But I want you to crash in the crib for a couple hours before Fin and Munch get back. You got that?" He hollered as he walked back to his office.
"Got it!" They both yelled back, and sat at their desks. There was no way in hell they were sleeping out on this.