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The dynamic dubstep music of the nightclub roared and pulsed through your bones. Each bass drop pounded at the temples of your skull just as it shook the ground beneath you. Strobes of a vibrant neon lights flashed near-harmoniously, distorting your vision as the huddled masses of sweaty strangers danced so closely together that you couldn't help but feel as if you were being swallowed whole by the rhythm of the night. It was the type of chaos you liked; one you could get lost in. It was unwavering, unrelenting, and altogether thrilling. Had you not been in the middle of a job, you would have easily let yourself be swept away in the commotion.
Bodies bumped into you as you stood in the middle of the dance floor surveying your surroundings. The movements allowed yourself to be somewhat easily hidden amongst the crowd as you searched for your target. Someone elbowed your side, but you hardly registered it. Your eyes swept across the room, hyper-focused, darting from one face to another.
“Do you have eyes on him?” A familiar female voice spoke to you through your concealed earpiece in your right ear. Rollins, who sat anxiously in the unmarked van outside with your lieutenant and a few other armed officers, let out a tense breath when you failed to be the one to answer. You were never much of a talker and, despite having access to the club's security footage, they were still struggling to spot their target in the crowd.
You kept searching, not wanting to draw attention to yourself by appearing to talk to no one. You weren't totally unnoticeable. “Negative on my end,” you heard a second male voice say, “and for the record, I still object to this whole thing.” Carisi sat on a high stool at one of the bars to your left. You gave him a smug grin between the moving bodies. A nondescript virgin drink sat in front of him as he held his cell phone to his ear, pretending to talk to someone of importance. As if they could even hear him over the sound of the music.
Carisi had been against the plan since you proposed it back at the office that morning. His fussing fell on deaf ears, however. Lieutenant Benson opted to agree in your favor. For weeks, Viktor Martin, the son of a wealthy judge, had prowled and hunted around the club scenes of lower Manhattan. Four women were found abandoned in piles of trash in alley ways– half naked, brutally raped, beaten, and mutilated– clinging to what little life he left them with before someone happened upon them and called 911. His last victim, however, was not as fortunate. Winter had arrived only days before her assault, and the unforgiving cold and rapid blood loss resulted in a DoA. Dead on Arrival.
You were the first detective to make it to the scene that time, running several red lights on your motorcycle as you sped to the location downtown. Much like the others, her face was severely gashed and almost unrecognizable; her mangled, delicate limbs were spread haphazardly in the putrid piles of black plastic, beautiful golden blonde hair stained red with dry pools of blood, and her expensive dress torn to pieces. The light snow that layered atop her overnight melted away as the CSU team got to work, leaving her looking almost damp. Rage boiled in your blood. You stood motionless, fists clenched so tightly in the pockets of your leather jacket that your nails might have broken some skin. You could think of nothing else but stomping on the neck of the monster who did this. One of the first responding officers handed you an evidence bag containing her wallet and ID. Her name was Abigail Florés, and you would not forget it.
Carisi gently laid a gloved hand on your left shoulder, but you didn't jump. You couldn't focus on anything else. He had arrived a little after you but decided to give you some space before approaching. Even though he had only seen the profile of your face, he knew that look. “Hey,” there was a softness in his voice that seemed to lull you back to your senses, “you alright?”
You finally blinked, eyes dry from looking for too long, but still you didn't look at him. “Should I be? Viktor did this, Sonny. We could have saved her.” You bit at the bottom of your lip, handed the evidence bag to a passing CSU member, then placed your then free hand on top of his. You hadn't even noticed when he began to rub your cold, bare fingers tenderly with his thumb as you both continued to stare hopelessly at the horror that laid before you. Your shoulders softened unknowingly.
It was the work of a beast so engulfed in his hate and bitterness towards women that the energy of it lingered in the air long after he had gone. The squad had been onto Martin for a while now, but the evidence, according to Stone, was circumstantial at best. While they had plenty of DNA, it matched no one in the system and no judge would grant a warrant for a swab based on victim testimony alone; not when the recipient was related to a fellow member of the bench. There were no eyewitnesses as he made sure to lure the victims to a place where no one would see them. Each had traces of rohypnol in their system as well, so they would have struggled to fight him off or call for help. Any security footage was also virtually useless as Viktor had managed to avoid them by sitting in camera blind spots. All this in addition to the fact that the victims were too scared, hurt, and humiliated to testify left little room for the ADA to maneuver. Stone needed more. Something solid, he said. He wasn't about to arrest the son of an esteemed sitting judge on anything less. An idea occurred to you: there was nothing more solid than catching him in the act. Almost a week after the Florés murder, you would present your plan to the squad.
“Using you as bait,” Carisi contested almost immediately as he crossed his arms and leaned against his desk, “I don't like it. Viktor Martin is a dangerous person.” Deadpan as ever, sipping from the bitter coffee Carisi forced upon you, you offered him only one retort:
“As am I.”
Of that, Carisi had no doubt. He knew little of your time in the service since you weren't exactly keen on sharing the more darker details of your life before SVU with anyone that wasn't Olivia, but you clearly were one hell of a soldier. A weapon to be reckoned with. It was evident in the way that you carried yourself– focused, intense, and a demeanor so calm as to be inscrutable. Indomitable. Truthfully, It scared him sometimes. It scared all of them, actually. He often thought back to the time you immobilized four armed gang members that surrounded you with only a tin lid from a nearby trash can during a neighborhood sweep. You didn't even reach for your gun. You always kept a casual coldness about you, hardened to the world. If fact, it was only in the past couple of years since his arrival— Benson noted one day— that you had you allowed yourself to soften, showing your more vulnerable side through dry, dark humor and the occasional witty remark. Unbeknownst to you, of course. He liked that part of you and did his best to pry it out from your shell whenever he could.
Yet, despite your seemingly immense levels of willpower and stamina, he knew that even you had your limits. No matter how high you had built your walls, he saw the cracks. Better than the others did. You were partners, afterall.
He cared about you.
After the murder of Abigail Florés, you had elected to tail Viktor Martin tirelessly for the past few days to learn his movements, only returning to the SVU barracks for some brief R&R when you were positive he wasn't currently a danger to the public. He asked, nearly begged, Lieu to pull you off the stake-outs, but Benson also knew you a great deal. She knew you were going to keep an eye on him regardless of what she said, so she would rather you did so with her supervisor and approval rather than risk insubordination. You were determined, but you had begun to look unraveled and ragged, eyes bruised from lack of sleep and hair disheveled and slightly knotted. Sonny and Amanda exchanged concerned glances as you paced back and forth in front of the white board on which you had scribbled your battle plan.
"When was the last time you were home? Or got more than 3 hours of sleep?" He had asked.
You waved him off. He was being a mother hen again. You didn't need sleep, you needed this bastard locked away. "Look," you spoke directly to the lieutenant that time, "we know that Viktor scouts out a club at least a week before he attacks in order to learn about their levels of security and the location of their cameras. The past couple of nights that I've tailed him, he's only visited one club: The Blitz. And if he follows his pattern as closely as we think he does, his next victim could be tonight. Yours and Rollins were the only faces he saw during his initial interrogation… but he hasn't seen mine. I know how he thinks. If I can attract his attention and catch him in the act… Lieutenant, I can do this."
Benson didn't need to hear more. "I'll call Stone."
The wolf would pose as a lamb. At midnight, you would find yourself in the middle of the herd.
Your time in the CIA required you to be a Swiss Army Knife of many talents; sharp, adaptive, and multifaceted. You discovered quickly that undercover work was one of your fortes. While you were no means a natural born thespian and preferred to carry out the majority of your operations from the shadows, you learned through experience (and a lot of trial and error) how to play the part if need be. You were a scalpel, finessing your way through any situation to achieve your goal with near perfect precision, as you were trained to do. When you abandoned that life, you found these tools could serve a purpose even outside the military. You found purpose at the NYPD's Special Victims Unit.
Fin, who stood vigilant at the balcony on the second floor overlooking the hunting grounds, interrupted your thoughts. "I've got him. He's coming in through the east entrance."
Drowning out the chaos of the club scene, you breathed in and sharpened yourself.
Viktor Martin, the pompous ass, was a man of no remarkable features and average looks but was fiercely charismatic. He demonstrated as much during his first interrogation with Benson and Rollins. He didn't even ask for a lawyer. He simply talked his way out. A man like him could have easily found a nice woman, settled down, beget 2.5 children, and lived the white picket fence life that so many could only dream of. Instead, he chose to inflict pain and spread misery. He got off on it, and he got off on getting away with it. Martin's silver tongue might have impressed the women he preyed on, but you had seen plenty of monsters. You knew how to spot them.
Takes one to know one, I guess. You thought to yourself, thinking back on the past.
There was a heinous glimmer in his eye as he sauntered to a bar adjacent of the one Carisi sat at. It was the same glimmer you had seen during interrogation; flickering red and shifting with the club lights. He sat in a spot he knew the camera couldn't see him, ordered a drink, and searched the room for prey just as you and your coworkers had searched for him. Unfortunately for Viktor, he was spotted first. It was time to get to work.
"I'm going radio silent," you said into the wire hidden in your dress, looking up once at Fin and then to Carisi, "Wish me luck." You couldn't risk Martin seeing the police-issued earpiece, no matter how well concealed it appeared.
You heard a faint "Hey! Wait! No– " as you took the earpiece out and placed it in your clutch. Carisi felt his heart drop into the ground.
They could hear you, but you couldn't hear them.
Action.
You positioned yourself closer to Viktor in the crowd just enough so he could see you. The black mini dress you wore held tight to your curves and the plunging neckline revealed more skin than you would have liked. It wasn't exactly tactical either, but it was near identical to the type of dresses Abigail and the other girls had worn during his previous attacks. You hoped that the similarity was enough to attract his ire as you feigned confusion, seeming lost and frankly overwhelmed in the swirling club commotion.
It worked. Viktor noticed you almost immediately. You avoided direct eye contact as you made your way slowly to the spot next to him at the bar. Viktor sized you up, and Carisi resisted the urge to throw his phone directly at his head.
"Um… can I get a vodka soda please?" You asked the bartender sheepishly as you ducked your head to look at the phone that you had pulled from your clutch earlier.
Viktor waited until your drink arrived before finally leaning in and making his move. "Not to be rude or anything," he leered and bent his neck to see your face, "but you, uh, seem a little out of place."
Good. You forced a lighthearted laugh. "Ha, is it that obvious?" Still playing with your phone as if to be messaging someone, you turned to face the man you tracked for weeks. You loathed this man, but you had to keep it together. For his victims. For Abigail. A weak smile forced its way across your cheeks.
Pull him in, lead him on, turn him down, make him angry, then let him do the rest. Let him dig his own grave.
Viktor straightened himself, placing both elbows against the bar and turning his body away and towards the dance floor. His eyes, however, remained on you. Carisi turned and looked at the bar ahead of him to avoid drawing any attention to himself. "Any man who'd allow a diamond like you get lost amongst this pile of garbage should be arrested and sent to jail! For life!"
You couldn't hear it, but Benson and Rollins both scoffed. Carisi's eyes rolled so hard, he thought they might fall out of their sockets. The irony was not lost on you, however. You let your smile grow wider as you played along.
"Yeah, well, he might not be my boyfriend much longer after tonight!" You huffed and put your phone away. He needed to know that he had your full attention. Your drink remained untouched. He then introduced himself to you. Not as Viktor, but as Henry. After getting questioned one too many times, he had to cover his tracks better. You shook his hand, also giving a fake name: Ursula.
"Ursula, huh? That's quite a name!"
"My parents wanted me to be unique."
"That you are. Well you don't look like any evil sea witch to me. Though I wouldn't be surprised if you had a little magic of some sort in you..."
He was full of cheesy lines, but his delivery was spot on. Disgusted with yourself, you pushed his shoulder playfully. Flirtatiously. A single touch was enough to open the door.
"Tell you what, Ursula, let's play a game." He put his hand on your shoulder to turn you towards the crowd. They were like fire against your skin and every cell in your body began to scream in unison. Crime scene photos of past victims flashed in your head. You wanted nothing more than to rip his arms from their sockets for what they had done.
After turning you completely, Viktor placed his hand behind your back and used the opportunity to drop a pill into your drink. It was quick and effortless. He clearly had some practice. You might have missed it, but Fin, positioned on the balcony above you, didn't. He alerted the team. Carisi held his breath and prayed you wouldn't accidentally take a sip.
Viktor continued, silver spilling from his lips. "Growing up, I loved Where's Waldo? I never missed him on a single page! Ya know, finding people, It's like my own weird super power. Let's see if we can find your misplaced lover in the club tonight. And if not…"
"And if not?" You echoed him, raising an eyebrow with curious intent. He inadvertently admitted he was a predator.
You felt his hand against your back. It blistered like a hot branding iron on your soul. "If even our magic combined can't find this wretch, I'll see to it personally that you– "
His thumbs caressed your back. Unable to stomach another second of this, you cut him off, regretting it immediately and cursing yourself internally. You needed more time but it was too late. The words were already jumping out of your mouth as your eyes darted to where Carisi sat. "OH! There he is!" You grabbed your drink and ran off without offering Viktor a much as a single goodbye.
According to the victims, the last thing they could remember before their attacks were rejecting his advances. While walking away from him mid-sentence might piss him off, it wasn't quite enough. You cursed at yourself internally for your failure. He wasn't on the hook yet, so you would need to think fast and act quickly. You could still feel his eyes on you. You still had a chance.
Carisi spun to you as you approached and put his phone in his coat pocket. You weren't entirely used to seeing him in casual civies. The light bomber jacket was a nice touch.
"What happened?!" He said at an almost whisper. Viktor couldn't hear you guys, but he could see. He tried to look as pleasantly boyfriend-like as he could. Carisi wasn't part of the plan. "He slipped a roofie in there, by the way."
You said nothing as you put yourself so close to Sonny that you were almost between his knees. Heat rushed to his cheeks. The height of the stool he sat on made it so that you were only slightly taller than him. You placed your drugged drink next to his, stealthily took his virgin drink that looked exactly the same, and chugged it in one go. Viktor had to see you take the drink, so you pivoted a bit as your poured the last bit down your throat. If you couldn't piss him off, he might take your bait for convenience sake alone if he knew you were already drugged. Carisi relaxed a bit knowing you were in no danger for the moment.
You put the drink back while an undercover cop disguised as a bartender took both glasses. "I messed up. It's time for Plan B." You responded frankly.
"You? Messing up? Martin must really get under your skin."
"That's an understatement."
"So," he tapped the bar lightly with his fingers, "what's Plan B?"
A new fire lit up in your belly as a new idea came to mind. You looked softly at Carisi.
I hope you're good at improv.
"Viktor Martin sees himself as an Alpha Male. Your presence threatens that. So, as my newly knighted boyfriend, you have to out-alpha him."
He laughed. "Oh yea, and how am I supposed to do that?"
Viktor's gaze still on your back felt like daggers. Carisi wasn't getting it. You had to move things along.
You took the tapping hand Carisi had settled on the bar and interlocked it with yours. You flipped your hair a bit and slowly moved closer to him. Fully between his legs now, you tried to look as seductive to Viktor as possible.
"Make him jealous, detective."
There was a certain tenderness in your voice that Carisi was not, by any means, accustomed to. And with the way your eyes were looking at him was new as well. There was a rush of confusion as your proximity to him closed in before he finally understood what you were hinting at. Or, at least… what he thought you were hinting at. If he was wrong, you could yell at him later. You cocked your head to the side and bit your lip. You grew impatient. He adjusted his eyes to reflect yours, attempting to meet you on equal ground. The pair of you were supposed to be lovers, after all.
Carisi placed his free hand on the back of your neck and pulled you in, kissing you sweetly but with some force. His lips were softer than you thought. Was he wearing chapstick?
"Oh damn!" Fin laughed in Carisi's earpiece.
In the van, Olivia's eyes shot open. "Well, that wasn't what she proposed back in the den."
"It sure wasn't…" Amanda said, picking her jaw off the floor.
The kiss didn't last very long. As is broke, his hand moved from your neck to the small of your waist. The two of you just sort of stared at one another. His face was still so close to yours. While you both played it off as a loving couple would for your onlooker, a new feeling washed over you. What was it? You were astonished, confused, and delighted. You couldn't stop looking at his lips. For a moment, you had entirely forgotten about Viktor.
"Well?" You forced yourself to speak.
Carisi was apparently lost as well. "Well what?" He couldn't stop smiling.
"What is Viktor Martin doing?"
Carisi landed back on earth. He looked directly at Viktor, who hadn't taken his eyes from you for even a second. His teeth clenched together as he sneered in revulsion. He was snagged on the bait. Viktor took one last swig of his drink, slammed it down on the bar, and walked to the back hallway he had entered from to lie and wait. Carisi mentally praised himself for a job well done then found himself spellbound to your presence yet again.
"He moved to the hallway directly behind you, didn't look too happy though," Carisi was beaming, "I think your plan worked, Doll."
Doll?
"Excellent." You rejoiced.
You acted on instinct a did something you would probably regret later.
You kissed him again.
This time it was slower and softer. Your lips only barely seemed to touch. There was no reason for doing so aside from wanting to understand what feeling came over you the first time. It was purely experimental, you told yourself. The perplexity ate at you. Why were you so transfixed? Especially at a moment like this? Why was his thumb caressing yours suddenly? Why didn't he stop you or push you away? What were you really feeling? Why did you have so many questions?
You wouldn't get answers, not now. Truthfully, they mattered little in the grand scheme of things. It was just a kiss and you did not have the luxury of time to ponder it. You put the feeling in the back of your mind, content to leave it there forever, unnamed. You had a fish on the hook and it was time to reel him in.
His other hand gripped tighter at your waist as you parted. If someone was speaking to him in his ear piece, Carisi did not notice. His eyes searched yours and his face was hard to read. He seemed equal parts flabbergasted and almost angry with the way his eyebrows knitted together. Perhaps he was just contemplating too hard.
You extended him an honest smile, not wanting to go head on with Viktor Martin with your partner disoriented. He gave you one in return. The heightened emotions on both ends seemed to dissipate as you came to a mutual understanding that the moment had passed. Focus returned. Electing to stay silent, you nodded to Carisi and turned on your heel towards the hallway.
Carisi spoke into his mic, "She's entering the hallway with Martin."
"Good work," he could hear Olivia say. "Don't lose sight of them, we don't have eyes on that section. All units stand by near the east exit. Wait for my signal."
Fin left his perch on the balcony. "I'll join Carisi."
There was a lump in Carisi's throat as you walked further and further away.
The hallway was poorly lit, but not entirely dark. It was short and narrow with all sorts of posters and ads stuck to the walls. The red neon exit sign created an ominous red glow, but Viktor was nowhere to be seen. It was then that you noticed the door to the unisex bathroom was slightly ajar. Definitely a trap, but you were ready.
You entered the bathroom casually. Your olfactory senses became suddenly aware of how little it bathroom was serviced. The wallpaper was torn, the checked tile was suffered and dirty, and one of the sinks dipped continuously. There were three stalls total and only one was occupied. You spotted a pair of shoes but it was impossible to tell if they were his. If Viktor wasn't in here with you, then you had missed your chance entirely.
Your heels clacked against the cheap linoleum as you made your way to the dripping sink in the middle to turn the faucet all the way off. Now the only noise that filled the room was the quiet thumping of the club music in the background. You waited a moment, then looked up into the dirty mirror.
In the reflection, the door to the one closed stall creaked open slowly. Viktor Martin's silhouette sauntered menacingly out of the shadows. If he was trying to scare you, he was going to have to do better than that. But you had to keep up the facade. You faked being startled. "Oh, Henry! You scared m– "
Before you could turn around fully, he pounced on you. Viktor grabbed a fist full of your hair and slammed your face against the glass mirror. Your head began to ache as you felt the surface of the glass bend but not break. Years of combat training pounded in your muscles. You wanted to throw him off you, but not yet. His body pressed against you as you made him believe that your were struggling as much as you could muster. He was strong, but you were stronger. You had to be.
"Henry– stop! What are you–"
You face was slammed against the glass again. You put your arms out against the wall to brace for the impact, but it helped very little. The glass shattered and cut into your temple. A headache immediately followed.
"Shut up, bitch!" Viktor foamed at the mouth and grunted. You felt something sharp against your waist in the same spot Carisi had held you so lovingly earlier. "You're just like the rest of them! Beautiful women in short skirts who lead on poor men. Men like me. We're just ants to you while you play God with a magnifying glass!"
Another slam against the glass. You let out a small gasp, but nothing else. Something wet trickled down your face.
"You think you're so much better than the rest of us?! Well, I'll show you," He laughed as he spat, "I'll show you just like I showed the other women."
A confession.
The knife pressed harder into your side as he jerked your head back, forcing you to straighten out. You stared at him in fragmented, shattered pieces of the mirror in front of you. The ghoulish look he gave you was his true face, not the "Henry" character he played. While the sight of your blood didn't make you squirm like it would for most people, (it wasn't your first time seeing it), the way he breathed hard on your neck was enough to make your hairs stand on edge.
"You're making a mistake," you muttered. You held up your hands to show surrender.
"Quiet, Ursula. We're going on a little walk. Scream, and I'll gut you in front of your pretty boyfriend."
You said nothing, but complied with a frigid stare. He remained behind you, knife now pointed to your lower back, and shoved you out the bathroom door with one hand gripping your arm. You held your clutch tight to your person, feeling the outline of the police-issued glock against the thin fabric it was made from. You weren't big on guns, in fact you hated them, but you couldn't deny it brought you comfort in times like these.
Plus you were an excellent shot.
As you exited the bathroom, you couldn't help but look towards where Carisi had been sitting. He was nowhere to be seen. Before you could scan for him, Viktor tightened his grip and dragged you to the exit. Not a single person in the club had seen the two of you leave.
The brisk air of the New York winter night was cold against your skin. You were suddenly more aware of how little the dress you wore covered. The blood on your cheek began to freeze, but least the bleeding had stopped.
Viktor marched you forward a few feet. The exit door slammed behind the two of you. That's when you heard the shuffling in the snow.
"Put down the knife, Martin." Your lieutenant barked.
Viktor spun you around. Before you stood Benson, Rollins, and two other officers. Their guns were angled and ready to fire, though they lowered them slightly when you blocked their line of fire. You kept your face relaxed as not to scare your colleagues, but Rollins still flinched when she saw the blood.
"It's over, Viktor!" She yelled, slightly panicked. She appeared more frightened than you. You appreciated the concern.
He jerked your arm. "I wish I could say that it's nice to see you again, detectives. Are you in on this, Ursula?! Did you lead me on just to trick me?!" The knife was cutting through your dress now. You felt the cold steel against your skin.
Carisi and Fin snuck up behind him.
"You're surrounded, Viktor. There's nowhere to run! Drop the knife and let her go." Olivia pressed forward.
"BACK UP!" His voice cracked as he screamed. Sweat dripped from his brow. "I'll KILL her! I'll swear do i–"
You had heard enough. It was growing late and your headache was growing worse and worse with each word he spat. He was pathetic. You cut him off again as you did earlier, this time with your heel. Using all the might in you could muster, your foot came crashing down and bore its way into his cheap penny loafers. You could feel the bones in his foot fracture, bend, and let out a faint crunching noise. Viktor yelped, completely stunned. You only had a fraction of a second to act. You grabbed his wrist that held the knife to your side and squeeze so tight that you thought it might break. It wasn't until you broke free of his grasp, elbowed him in the ribs, and flipped him over your shoulder that he finally get go of his weapon. All the air left his lungs as his back smashed against the concrete with a satisfying wham ! You pressed the flat part of your high heels tight against his throat and ripped you gun from your clutch, discarding it to the ground. By the time Viktor regained his sense and opened his eyes, you had already turned off the safety and aimed the barrel at his head.
Your peers could do nothing but watch. They all seemed to let out a sigh in unison as they lowered their guns, confident that you had the situation handled.
"Viktor Martin," you said in a low, assertive tone, "you're under arrest for the rape of four women, assaulting a police officer, and the murder of Abigail Florés. You have the right to remain silent…"
The flashing police lights did little to help your headache, but at least the EMTs had given you a blanket while tending to the wound on your forehead. The cuts were not deep enough to warrant stitches, but that didn't stop Carisi from hovering. You tugged the blanket closer to your person.
"Here, lemme get you another blanket." He fussed, looking for one of the EMTs. They were busy looking over Viktor.
You grabbed his coat before he could walk off. "I'm fine, Sonny. Really."
He liked the way you said his name. Though you had said it a thousand times before, tonight it sounded different. He wasn't sure why. He grabbed your hand without thinking. "Will you at least take tomorrow off?"
"You heard the EMT, I'm fine. No concussion, just some cuts and bruises." You didn't object to the hand holding.
"Your mental health is important too."
"I'm the spitting image of perfect mental health."
He laughed. "You were just held at knife point! He smashed your head against a mirror!"
"Eh," you shrugged, "I let him." You gave him a weak smile. He wasn't falling for it, not that you were lying. You truly were fine. Mostly you were tired. And cold. You hadn't noticed the shivering until now.
A quiet moment fell between you two. You watched as his thumbs grazed over your fingers again. Did he always do that?
"You know," Sonny laughed, finally breaking the silence, "it was really smart of you to tell me to kiss you. That really pushed Martin over the edge."
You have him a pointed stare. "I didn't tell you to kiss me."
"Uh, yes you did."
"When?"
"You said to make him jealous!"
"But I never said to kiss me! That was entirely of your own volition." You tucked your arm back into the blanket for warmth, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed as he gaped at you.
"Well… it would make me jealous," He grinned, "I acted on instinct, ya know. For the job." He rubbed the back of his neck.
For some reason, you didn't entirely believe him.
"Wait a second!" he got a sudden burst of energy and put his hands on his hips like he did during an interrogation. "That second kiss, that was entirely you! Viktor had already walked into the hallway at that point." He started wagging his finger at you now. He was always so expressive. "You. Kissed. Me."
He looked as if he had just solved a case. You loved that look. Not missing a beat, you stood up from where you sat on the bumper of the ambulance, only inches from him. You conceded. There was no disputing the facts.
"I guess I did."
Carisi felt frozen solid. He hadn't expected you to just confess so directly. He moved his mouth to say something, but no words came out. He just stared at your lips.
You finally understood what you were feeling earlier. It was all new to you, this feeling of adoration. It was immense and clouded your judgement. Love scared the living hell out of you, as it wasn't something you ever considered achievable for someone such as yourself. It wasn't something you deserved. Besides, you haven't had a "serious" relationship in years. You were trained in a lot of things, but you weren't trained for this . Maybe it was just a stupid crush; maybe you should say something?
"Listen, Sonny, I– "
"Hey lovebirds," Fin interrupted. Sonny jumped back about a foot. You smiled towards Fin. "The Lieutenant is waiting to talk to you when you're done with… whatever this is."
"I-it's nothing. There's nothing!" Carisi stammered, looking back at you and then to Fin as if he just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Nothing is happening." He walked off.
Fin looked at you, but you just shrugged. "You heard the man"
"Uh-huh."
You caught up to Sonny to join him next to Rollins. Fin decided he had enough and went home. Olivia slammed the door of the police car where Viktor Martin sat. She pounded the hood and they drove off with another vehicle behind them as an escort.
"Well," Benson started, resting her hands in her jacket pockets, "he has multiple fractures in his foot, a sprained wrist, a dislocated shoulder, and a bruised ego, but he's fine."
"Then he got off easy," Rollins scoffed. "She could have easily killed him in self defense."
You rolled your eyes. "I have some self control, thank you very much."
"At least we're one step closer to getting justice for his victims." Carisi crossed his arms.
"Yea, well, it's not going to be easy. Now we have to deal with an angry judge. Judge Martin isn't going to be happy when he hears about his son's injuries." Benson looked at you with maternal eyes and spoke your name in a way that was almost berating. "What on earth were you thinking?"
You were too tired to argue, all the sleepless nights suddenly caught up to you at once. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant. I guess I went overboard."
"I meant kissing Carisi." She chuckled to herself. She was proud of you, regardless.
You returned a smile. "I promise it won't happen again."
Carisi put his hand on his heart and staggered, pretending to he wounded. "Hey, I take offense to that! You could do a lot worse than me, alright?"
You me smile didn't fade, but you said nothing.
"Carisi, take her home please." Benson and Rollins started walking past you to their car.
That made you frown. "Wait, I don't get to help process him? I read him his rights, technically this is my collar."
The lieutenant turned, "And technically you're one of his victims." She pointed towards her forehead, reminding you of your injuries. "I think you've done enough for tonight, don't you think? You want to deal with Judge Martin and Stone as well?"
"Can I at least get my things from the office and watch him get sent to booking?" You were defeated.
Benson looked at Carisi. "Make sure she gets her things and goes straight home." There was no more room to negotiate. Both her and Rollins waved as they continued walking away.
You huffed.
"So, 'it won't happen again', huh?"
You gave Sonny another pointed stare. "Maybe if you buy me waffles from the diner on the way to my apartment." You started walking with him towards his car.
He snorted "You want breakfast? Now? It's almost 2 AM."
You wrapped one of your arms around him for warmth. He pulled you in and did the same. Maybe you didn't have to confront your feelings tonight; maybe you could just bask in the moment.
"Shut up and buy me some damn waffles."