CHAPTER 6

 

“Fuck!” Faith’s loud comment drew looks from the other patrons in the bar. Sliding out of the booth and tossing some bills on the table, she strode for the door. “Listen, Cam. Get the rest of the kids and make yourselves scarce. Don’t watch from across the street. Try down the block or something. We can’t afford for Lake to spot any more of you.”

 

She stabbed the elevator call button and thought fast.

 

“Faith…” Cam’s voice wavered. “I’m sorry. I…”

 

Ah, hell. Recognizing that tone of self-blame, Faith looked down from the numbers over the elevator door. “Don’t go there, kid. Not your fault.” It was hers. Nicole should never have been on that street alone. Faith clenched her hand around the phone and stepped into the elevator as soon as the doors slid open. “I need to grab Red and then we’ll meet you at the coffee shop. Lake’s on her own until we get this settled.”

 

The phone closed with a sharp snap. Faith bounced impatiently during the ride. It didn’t make sense. Why would Lake arrest Nicole? The younger Slayer hadn’t called to say they were on the move or that anything had happened. She should have been there with Nicole. The Junior Slayer was good, but she didn’t have any training in staking out a target.

 

Striding down the hall, Faith raged inside. This should never have happened. The anger gave her a little extra strength, and the door to the room exploded inward at her shove.

 

Willow gave a short shriek at the abrupt movement.

 

“We got trouble, Red.” Faith didn’t bother explaining what kind. “Grab your gear. We need to meet Cam and the minis.”

 

Her words sent Willow scrambling. The computer returned to its home in her backpack and she looped a fanny pack of magical supplies and holy water around her narrow waist. “Ready,” Willow announced.

 

Glad that Willow hadn’t pestered her with questions she couldn’t answer, Faith hurried back to the elevator. While they waited, she filled Willow in with what she did know.

 

“Arrested?” Willow snorted. “Not likely. There’s no curfew in New York City, and I don’t think Nicole would do anything to draw attention to herself.” She stepped into the elevator, leaving Faith in the hallway.

 

Faith stared after Willow and hoped her chagrin didn’t show. No curfew. No reason for arrest. “Yeah. That’s what I thought, too,” she lied. Joining Willow in the elevator, Faith felt some of the tension in her shoulders disappear at the reassurance. “Cam probably misunderstood or overreacted.” She wryly acknowledged to herself that she had, too. “Ain’t gonna hurt to make sure, though.”

 

A teasing smile crossed Willow’s face. “Sure, Mama Bear. We have to make sure your cubs are safe.”

 

Growling playfully, Faith poked the button for the lobby again. “Watch it, Red. I might forget you’re part of the family and put my claws on you.”

 

She wasn’t prepared for the bright blush that covered Willow’s face.

 

“Willow?” Faith sobered immediately. “I didn’t mean to say something to make you mad.” Or disgusted. Jamming her hands in her pockets, she glared at the slowly lighting numbers over the door. “I…uh…”

 

“Don’t, Faith. I’m not mad,” Willow said softly. “I just…I wasn’t expecting you to say that, that’s all. You don’t talk about family much, and never when I’m around.”

 

Faith was still trying to come up with a response when the door chimed and slid open.

 

“Come on, Mama Bear. Let’s go find out what happened to your favorite cub.” Willow bumped Faith’s hip as they exited the elevator.

 

“Right.” As they walked out of the hotel and Faith signaled the valet, Willow’s phone rang. “What the fuck else can go wrong?” Faith asked plaintively.

 

Willow shrugged and opened her phone. “Hello?”

 

It was too loud with the roar of traffic and the rumble of dozens of conversations on the street for Faith to hear the other end of the conversation. She took out some of her frustration on the valet, slapping a folded five-dollar bill into his hand and then slamming the door as she slid behind the wheel.

 

The phone conversation was still underway as Willow took her own seat and dragged on her seatbelt. “Yes. Yes, I understand. New York is very dangerous.”

 

Faith pulled out and headed toward the station house.

 

“Thank you for calling, Sergeant. I’m on my way.” Willow flipped the phone closed and grimaced. “Looks like Nicole somehow spooked Lake and her boss. He made some lame threats about loitering and told me it wasn’t safe for a girl Nicole’s age to be out alone.”

 

Snorting, Faith stopped at a traffic light. “I bet Nic wanted to toss him out a window for that.” She tapped her fingers on the wheel. “You think they suspect anything? Do we need to call Tweed for backup?”

 

An auburn eyebrow rose. “Faith, why would they connect a fifteen-year old kid with Anshu? Nicole doesn’t look like a Native American and she didn’t go all Slayer on Lake. If she had, I wouldn’t have been told to come pick her up and take her home for a good breakfast.”

 

***

 

“Well, that was amazingly uninformative.” Munch leaned back in his chair until it creaked. “It seems your friend doesn’t like to talk anymore than you do, Nicole. Why is that?”

 

Chelsea watched the two. Munch should be winning this battle of wills. He was, after all, a decorated cop with close to thirty years on the Job. To her discerning eye, however, it looked like a draw. Munch stared piercingly at Nicole while she glowered back, lips pressed into a tight line.

 

“So…Nicole,” Chelsea began in the hopes of breaking the strained silence, “why are you in New York?”

 

It was a completely pointless question, and she wasn’t surprised when Nicole didn’t even glance in her direction.

 

Munch broke first. With a dramatic sigh, he stood and fished a handful of change from his pants pocket. “Here, kid. I’m hungry. If you’ve been wandering the streets all night, I’m sure you are, too. There’s a machine down the hall. Get us a candy bar or something.”

 

The glower slowly faded as Nicole climbed to her feet. She looked back and forth between Munch and Chelsea.

 

“Well, hurry up. Even I could get there and back faster.” Munch pointed a long, narrow finger at the squad room doors.

 

“Be right back,” Nicole muttered before disappearing down the hall.

 

Chelsea regarded Munch thoughtfully. “Kind of risky, letting her go like that.”

 

“Nah.” A familiar smirk graced Munch’s face. “She’ll be back. Nicole knows that friend of hers, Ms. Rosenberg, is on the way. She might be full of teen attitude, but she got very, very upset when I made that call.”

 

He must have seen something Chelsea had missed. Nicole hadn’t stopped glaring and pouting since they’d escorted her in from the street. “I’ll trust your judgment on this, Gramps,” she teased. “While she’s gone, though, what’s the plan…”

 

The doors exploded inward, and Chelsea stopped talking and came to her feet, ready for action.

 

“Morning,” Olivia announced as she swept in.

 

Drooping in relief, Chelsea resumed her seat. “Morning,” she parroted.

 

Olivia sifted through the paperwork on their joined desks while Chelsea and Munch exchanged looks. “Huh. Nothing new. Too bad.” She stretched. “I guess that means a visit to the Widow McLaren. Since you’re here, we need to hit the road. It’s a long trip out to Canarsie even if we beat the Brooklyn traffic. I’ll drive.”

 

It wasn’t what Chelsea wanted to hear. McLaren could wait. After all, the records – and his former wife – said he was dead. Dead men didn’t interest her.

 

“Let’s go, Lake. It’s almost six. I want to be there when Mrs. McLaren comes out to get the morning paper,” Olivia snapped.

 

“Right behind you, Benson.” Giving Munch a frustrated glance, Chelsea retrieved her gun from her desk drawer and holstered it. “Later, Sarge.”

 

***

 

The drive was bad, even with their early start. Chelsea bounced her right leg impatiently as Olivia inched along behind the cab in front of them.

 

“What’s up with you and Munch?” Olivia asked out of nowhere.

 

“Me and Munch?” The echoed phrase made her sound like a perp under interrogation, and Chelsea stifled a groan. “He and I were talking about that kid we picked up outside the station.” Trying to steer the conversation away from anything more relevant, Chelsea said, “Nicole managed to get Munch’s goat. His crusty glare didn’t even break her.”

 

Olivia didn’t bite. “When we left last night, he called you rookie. This morning, though, it felt different. I got the feeling you aren’t just a rookie anymore.” She glanced across the car. “Want to explain that?”

 

“Not really.” Chelsea closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the seat. Olivia wasn’t going to let this go. She was a cop…and Chelsea’s partner. She had a right to expect Chelsea to share information. “It’s personal. Family stuff.”

 

Her mumble didn’t draw the expected response. “Ah. Welcome to the club. I think Munch knows all of our secrets. Mine, El’s. Hell, for all I know Fin’s, too.”

 

Even with her eyes closed, Chelsea felt the weight of Olivia’s look. “Anything I need to know, Lake?”

 

Translated, Chelsea knew that meant: Is your personal life going to get me killed? “I sure as hell hope not, partner.” Even as she said it, Chelsea feared all her hope might not be enough to keep them both alive.

 

CHAPTER 7

 

“Somehow, I’m not reassured by that,” Olivia said dryly. “What the hell happened last night?”

 

Chelsea’s leg bounced even faster at the question. She’d let Munch in on the secret only because he’d caught her researching after hours. She and Olivia were partners, though, a little voice whispered.

 

“Chelsea?” Olivia glanced at her as they sat at yet another red light.

 

The partial truth would have to do for now. Ignoring the voice repeating, “Partner,” and the guilt twisting her stomach, Chelsea sighed. “It’s… it’s a family thing.”

 

The car inched through the intersection. “And that leads to possible death, how?” Olivia wasn’t giving up just yet.

 

“Until the guy showed up on my doorstep last night, I didn’t have any family.” After thirty one years, admitting that hadn’t gotten any easier. Swallowing against the bitter taste in her mouth, Chelsea went on. “Munch’s looking into it for me.”

 

Olivia swore and jammed on the brakes. The car rocked – but they missed hitting the van in front of them. “Why is there always an accident on the West Side Highway and a backup in the tunnel we I have to get to Brooklyn? We won’t make it to McLaren’s place until noon using surface streets.” Horns blared around them for several more minutes and then the line of cars ahead of them began to slowly advance onto the Brooklyn Bridge. “Munch is helping out? Why the hell didn’t you call me?”

 

Before Chelsea could censor the thought, the words popped out. “In the mood you were in when you left? Do I look crazy?” Freezing, she braced for an explosion.

 

Instead, stunned silence filled the car until Olivia chuckled. “Point taken.”

 

Chelsea relaxed into the seat. “Since we seem to be in a sharing mood, you want to tell me what last night was all about?” Now the shoe was on the other foot. Smirking, Chelsea watched Olivia squirm and concentrate intently on the road ahead. “‘Liv?” she probed.

 

“Right before I got suspended, Cragen called me into his office. Told me I needed to take some time. Think over the way I felt about the Job.” Olivia’s voice was wry, and she smiled tightly. “I did. I burned some personal time and tried to decide if the sleepless nights and the nightmares were worth it.”

 

She fell silent, and Chelsea didn’t push. Every cop got to that same crossroad. It was amazing Olivia had taken this long to hit that point, especially considering the types of cases the SVU handled.

 

“Last night, it was like he was telling me the same thing. To step back. That I was losing perspective.” A dark eyebrow quirked as Olivia glanced across the car. “Do you think I was having trouble with my perspective?”

 

“Even I know a trick question when I hear one,” Chelsea answered. Looking away from Olivia, she stared at the fog-shrouded East River below them.

 

The car slowed and sped up in a random pattern for a few minutes. “It wasn’t a trick question, Lake.” Olivia’s voice was back to business. “I was out of line. You’re my partner. The next time it happens, it’s your job to rein me in.”

 

***

 

Faith decided to shut up. Every time she opened her mouth, she said something stupid. She drove in silence for the first few blocks.

 

“You OK over there, Faith? I know I’m normally the one doing all the talking, but you usually grunt or have some comment.” Faith could tell from the overly cheerful tone that Willow was trying to tease her out of her brooding.

 

“Not much to say, Red.” Concentrating on not breaking the speed limit and getting pulled over, Faith avoided saying anything more.

 

A balled-up paper napkin bounced off Faith’s face.

 

“What the fuck?” She turned her head and saw a very serious Willow.

 

“Are you going to tell me why you’re all Quiet Faith or do I have to torture it out of you?” Willow brandished another napkin.

 

Keeping one hand on the steering wheel, Faith held up the other in a show of surrender. “Anything but that, Red. I ain’t going into a cop shop all bruised up in the face. They might think I’m getting abused by my girlfriend or something.”

 

“Huh.” The napkin lowered. “Don’t you think I couldn’t do it.” Willow smirked. “Some Slayer you are. Afraid of a little witch and her big bad napkin.”

 

Faith relaxed slightly at the teasing. “You forget – that ‘little witch’ could turn my ass into a frog with a wiggle of her fingers. And green ain’t my color.”  She slowed to let a pedestrian dash through an upcoming intersection. “We got a plan for getting Nic out of jail?”

 

“She’s not…” Willow started to say, frustration clear in her voice.

 

“I know that, Red,” Faith said softly.  “You know what I mean, though. What are we gonna tell the cops? Neither one of us is related to Nic. You think he ain’t going to ask about why she’s running around the city that time of night?”

 

Out of the corner of her eye, Faith saw Willow rub the back of her neck. “Giles and I worried something like this might happen.”

 

“What?” Now Faith was frustrated. Voice rough with anger, she glared out the windshield. “You thought the juniors might have a problem with the cops so you planned ahead?” Then the anger froze. No. No way. “Or were you thinkin’ I might have the problem?”

 

“No!” Willow denied immediately. “Damn it, Faith. This wasn’t about you!”

 

Fingers aching from gripping the wheel so tightly, Faith asked, “Then what was it about?”

 

“Keeping the juniors safe, Faith.” Willow’s voice was quieter as she continued. “The night before we flew up here, Giles and I talked about contingency plans. It was a risk from the beginning to try shadowing Lake. She’s a cop, and she’s trained to pick up a tail. It wasn’t something I thought we’d really need, though. Lake was supposed to know we were there – and why.”

 

It made sense. Repeating that silently, Faith pried her fingers off the wheel. “Sorry.” It sounded too abrupt and not sincere enough so Faith tried again. “I’m sorry, Red. This ain’t what I signed on for with the Slaying, and I suck at it.”

 

Willow leaned across the car and shook Faith’s shoulder. “You don’t suck at it, Faith. In fact, you’re way better at than I am.”

 

“You keep sayin’ that.” Faith might have continued if the precinct hadn’t loomed half a block down the street. “We’re here. You want to let me in on the plan you and Tweed came up with?”

 

“Faith, you can’t go in with me. This is a police station!” Willow’s voice began to rise.

 

Undoing her seat belt, Faith turned to face Willow. “I ain’t ever gonna forget that, Willow.” She rubbed her right wrist, almost feeling the handcuff tightening around it. “But no way am I leaving Nicole in there without backup.”

 

For a second, she thought Willow would scream. Her mouth opened and closed several times, and her face turned a deep red. Finally, a single index finger snapped up in a clear “give me a minute” gesture.

 

Faith waited, still rubbing away the chill of those phantom cuffs.

 

Willow flipped open her cell phone and stabbed one button. Faith saw her hand shake slightly as she raised the phone to her ear.

 

“Hello?” Was that Angel’s voice on the other end? Faith leaned forward slightly and listened intently.

 

“Don’t talk,” Willow ordered brusquely. “Just listen. I need that paperwork we’ve been working on.”

 

Maybe it wasn’t Angel. Faith thought she heard a deep breath through the phone’s speaker.

 

“Don’t tell me you can’t do it. Not now. I need those papers!” Willow’s voice dropped in volume but not in intensity. “Overnight the originals to the hotel. Email copies to my official address now. You’ve got five minutes.” The phone closed with a sharp click, and Willow shoved open her door. “Let’s get this over with.”

 

“What…” Faith pressed her lips together at the narrow-eyed glare she got. Clearing her throat, she quietly got out of the car as well. “After you, Red.” She tried a friendly smile.

 

There was no answering flash of teeth. Willow turned and stalked toward the steps leading to the main entrance to the Sixteenth Precinct.

 

Faith stood for a second, staring after Willow. Her heart pounded, and she swallowed the sour taste in her mouth. Willow’s comment rang in her mind, “It’s a police station!” Yes, it was. The police station where Nicole was being held and where the same Junior Slayer was more than likely panicking. That thought drove her forward, and Faith sprinted up the steps after Willow.

 

They entered the door side by side.

 

A sea of blue uniforms surrounded them, and Faith’s resolve started to crumble. She froze only a few steps inside the building.

 

“Can I help you?” The deep voice belonged to the grey-haired man behind the high counter to their right.

 

“Um…we’re looking for a Sergeant Munch,” Willow said easily. “I think he said something about Special Victims?”

 

Fighting for every breath, Faith locked her knees. She was not going to pass out in front of Willow and all these cops.

 

“Special Victims is up the stairs. Third floor. Take a left at the top and go all the way to the end of the hall.” Then the man tilted his head. “You need someone to take you up? Your friend doesn’t look too good.”

 

Fuck. Faith straightened. “I’m good.” Her voice was high and thready. “Thanks. Come on, Red. Let’s go get Nic.” She gripped Willow’s hand tightly and steered them to the staircase.

 

She could feel the cop watching their progress.

 

“Faith,” Willow hissed. “Faith! Slow down. My feet aren’t even touching the steps anymore.”

 

Glancing down, Faith realized she’d picked Willow up at some point. “Sorry, Red.” She dropped Willow back to the ground. “Guess I got a little…uh…”

 

“Nervous?” Willow supplied helpfully. “That’s because we’re in a police station.” She looked pointedly at Faith. “Are you going to see reason and go back to the car now? You freaked at the first uniform. How are you going to handle a face to face meeting with a detective?”

 

Suddenly, Faith’s senses sounded an alarm and she went on full alert. Then she recognized the signature of the warning. “Nic’s nearby.” Avoiding Willow’s question, she started trotting up the stairs.

 

Willow had to run to keep up.

 

At the third floor landing, they turned left. A pair of double doors sat at the end of the corridor. “Faith, please…” Willow dug her fingers into Faith’s forearm.

 

“Red.” Turning to look directly at Willow, Faith met the worried green eyes. “I know the risks. Believe me, I know.” Her heart still pounded far too fast; however, Faith wasn’t turning back now. “Anything happens to me, I know you got my back.”

 

Willow’s eyes widened. “You do?” Her voice squeaked. “I mean, I do. Yes.” Her fingers relaxed their grip, stroking Faith’s arm. “I promise; I won’t let them take you back to jail, Faith.”

 

The heat from Willow’s hand felt good. “I believe you.” Faith stepped away and shivered at the loss of contact. “Now, let’s go save Nic from this Munch guy and get the fuck out of here.” She strode down the hallway with quick, firm steps, shoving open the doors to the Special Victims’ office.

 

CHAPTER 8

 

Faith’s confident steps faltered almost immediately once she stepped through the doors. The warren of desks and the other overt signs of law enforcement hit her hard. In seconds, she lost her connection with the Special Victims Unit. Instead, Faith huddled in a rickety chair, cuffed hands dangling between her knees, as Detective Lockley took her statement.

 

Reeling from the vision, Faith stumbled back a step.

 

Only a warm hand on the small of her back kept her from turning completely around and retreating. “Sergeant Munch?” Willow’s smile showed too many teeth. That small sign of Willow’s nerves helped Faith deal with her own.

 

She straightened and moved to the side, letting Willow continue into the squad room. Following slowly, Faith kept her eyes on Nicole. The younger Slayer fiddled restlessly with a partially eaten candy bar and stared at the floor.

 

“…Ms. Lehane.” The sound of her name snapped Faith’s attention back to Willow and the skinny detective. “I’m sorry you had to call us. We’ll definitely keep a closer eye on the players from now on,” Willow was saying.

 

Players? Faith frowned in confusion. What the hell was Willow talking about?

 

The detective must have been watching her. “Is something wrong?” he asked, glancing at her intently,

 

The frown mutated into a scowl, and Faith shoved both hands into her pockets. “Nah. Just wondering how long this’s gonna take. Didn’t get enough sleep, and I’ve got a few things to say to the kid here.” She tried to meet his eyes, tried to smooth her expression.

 

It didn’t appear she’d succeeded. Thin lips twitching into a very small smile, Munch waved at Nicole. “Oh, you can talk. Just don’t take her out of the squad room yet. Ms. Rosenberg here has some paperwork to sign before I can release Nicole.”

 

Faith’s eyes narrowed. That sounded like cop doublespeak. “What paperwork? I thought you told Re-…I mean, Willow that Nic hadn’t done anything wrong.” Her shoulders tightened even more, and Faith’s hands came out of her pockets to grip her belt so hard it doubled under the pressure.

 

“Nicole,” Willow’s voice interrupted the tense exchange between Faith and Sergeant Munch, “why don’t you and Ms. Lehane go over there and talk?” She pointed to a remote corner cluttered with a coffee machine and stacks of Styrofoam cups.

 

Nicole was out of her seat instantly. “Sure, Ms.Rosenberg,” she muttered.

 

Still rattled by Munch’s look, Faith hesitated…until Willow turned Resolve Face her way and pointed imperiously at the corner. “Right. Talk with Nic.” Spinning on her heel, she followed the younger Slayer.

 

Leaning one hip against the table housing the coffee machine, Nicole looked anything but happy about the coming discussion. In her position, Faith would have felt the same way. A deep breath helped alleviate some of the lingering tension. “You wanna tell me what happened?” she asked Nicole softly.

 

Nicole’s eyes welled with tears she blinked frantically to hide. “I was stupid.”

 

Responding to Nicole’s comment (and her tears), Faith took up a position right next to her and bumped Nicole’s hip. “Listen up, kid. I’m the fucking Queen of Stupid. Getting hauled in by the cops? Not even close to some of the shit I’ve done.”

 

A choked giggle escaped from Nicole – closely followed by a loud and watery sniff.

 

“What happened, Nic?” Faith tried again.

 

“I was camped out in a doorway across the street. They must have seen me or someone called to complain about me being there. I don’t know.” Nicole shrugged in confusion. “One minute I’m watching Munch through the window over there and waiting for Lake to come out, and the next I’m staring at a gun pointed at my chest.”

 

They were definitely out of their league. Faith rubbed the back of her neck. “We need a new game plan.” She glanced up and watched Willow talking intently to Munch. “After this, we’re having a bigass Scooby meeting to figure this out. I ain’t letting you newbies get in trouble ‘cause me and Red don’t know what the fuck we’re doing.”

 

Nicole didn’t respond for a second.

 

“You gonna be OK?” Faith probed. She watched the other girl out of the corner of her eye.

 

“I’m good.” Nicole’s words were firm. “Mad at myself. Feeling really stupid, but I’m good.”

 

Faith grinned a little at the comment.

 

An answering grin crossed Nicole’s face. “Thanks for bailing me out.”

 

“Nah. We didn’t have to post bail.” Faith deliberately misunderstood Nicole’s statement. “Red’s just got orders to make sure you’re a good little girl from now on.”

 

“Bitch,” Nicole muttered, her grin growing.

 

Faith snickered. “Took you long enough to figure that out. You must be slow or something.’” Then she sobered. Willow was shaking hands with Munch. “Looks like Fun Time is over, kid. Let’s motor.”

 

Nicole pushed away from the table and headed toward Willow.

 

“Next time you and your girlfriend get in a fight, young lady,” Munch announced, “don’t go rushing off. New York’s a lovely city, but it’s not always safe.”

 

Looking stunned at that, Nicole looked back and forth between Willow and Faith. “Uh…” she mumbled.

 

“I don’t think it will be an issue, Sergeant.” Willow pinned Nicole with a steely glare. “Nicole won’t be going anywhere for a while after this. In fact, I’m thinking all of the girls will be under house arrest until after the tournament.”

 

Faith added the tournament reference to the list of things Willow was damned well going to explain when they got outside. “We good to go?” That’s all she wanted to know. Now that she and Nicole weren’t off in their corner, the reality of where she was hit her again. Bouncing on her toes, Faith fought a visceral urge to run for the door.

 

“Of course. I’m sorry for taking up so much of your morning.” Munch smiled and held his hand out in Faith’s direction. “I hope the rest of your stay in the Big Apple is more enjoyable.”

 

All the air in the room disappeared. In slow motion, Faith watched her hand raise and then clasp Munch’s. “Yeah,” she choked out. “Thanks.”

 

***

 

Chelsea gave Olivia a wry look. “If that had been listed on the job description, I might not have applied for the transfer.”

 

“Ah, poor rookie. Life’s hard.” With a grin, Olivia maneuvered the car off the bridge. “Wow. Only an hour. I thought it would be longer.” Sarcasm dripped from the words as she stepped on the accelerator and whipped around a slower moving car.

 

The old woman behind the wheel gave them a wide-eyed, terrified look as they sped past.

 

As they turned onto Flatbush Avenue and continued to move away from Manhattan, traffic slowly thinned. Chelsea settled back into the passenger seat. God, she was tired. “You think we’re going to get anything out of the widow? Or are we just wasting time and placating Novak with this trip?”

 

Olivia snorted. “The widow’s going to give us nothing but grief.”

 

“Great. You know that. I know that. Is Novak stupid or just covering her political ass?” Chelsea scowled as they entered Grand Army Plaza. “Maybe we should have swung by and picked her up for the trip.”

 

“No way.” Olivia shook her head. “Novak’s a pain but she gets the job done. She’s got a lot of high-powered connections.” She looked across the car and continued seriously. “Play by her rules, Lake. If she likes you, getting warrants when you don’t quite have probable cause is a lot easier.”

 

Chelsea raised a hand in surrender. “My bad.” She yawned. “Sorry. I never really made it to bed last night.”

 

She sensed Olivia’s smirk. “Anything you want to share?”

 

“Not a thing,” Chelsea answered. At least, not until she absolutely had to. Then, just to tease Olivia, she added with a straight face. “Well, OK. I…uh…” Leaning in as if she were sharing a very tawdry piece of information, she stage whispered, “I spent the night with Munch.”

 

Olivia’s shoulder smack wasn’t unexpected. “Bitch,” she complained with a grin. “And here I thought I’d have something to add when the guys asked for details on my new partner.”

 

Eyes idly scanning the landscape of Prospect Park as the car rolled by, Chelsea laughed. “I’m sure you can start a rumor about me and Munch.” She would have continued, but a car caught her attention in the passenger-side mirror. “Fuck!”

 

“What?” Olivia flicked a glance her way and sat a little straighter in the seat.

 

“Black Taurus three cars back. It’s been with us since we left the House.” Chelsea cursed her fatigue. She should have noticed long before now.

 

Not turning her head to look out the back window, Olivia peered intently into the rearview mirror. “I’ve got it. Can you see the plate?”

 

The earlier teasing mood was completely gone now. Both of them were in full cop mode. “No,” Chelsea said in frustration. “He’s too far back.” Hunching down in the seat, she inched forward and squinted into the mirror. “Wait.” The light ahead of them was turning red. “Angle the car like you’re taking a right here. Maybe I can get a partial.”

 

“Got it.” A rhythmic click announced their intention to turn, and Olivia stopped the car with the nose pointing toward Parkside Avenue.

 

The new angle was enough. Grabbing the radio from her belt, Chelsea keyed the mic. “Dispatch, this is Badge 7214. I need a wants and warrants on New York plate Edward Adam Henry 4933.”

 

CHAPTER 9

 

The light changed. Olivia ignored it – and the angry honks from the cars lined up behind her. After a minute, shouts joined the sound of car horns.

 

“Aren’t you going to drive?” Chelsea divided her attention between a very calm looking Olivia and the silent mic in her hand.

 

“Sure.” With a smirk, Olivia glanced through the windshield at the traffic light. The car stayed put, though, and the light changed from green to yellow. It stayed there for a few seconds. Then, as the light signaled red, Olivia jammed her foot on the gas pedal and the car shot through the intersection.

 

Now the blaring horns came from all around them as cars anticipating the green light  from the other directions braked to avoid hitting them.

 

Turning around in the seat, Chelsea saw their followers trapped at the light with the rest of the cars. “You doubling back?” she asked.

 

Olivia reached under the seat between them and retrieved the bubble light. Tossing it onto the top of the car, she took a sharp right onto Woodruff. “I just hope we can catch them. I’m sure they know we spotted them now.”

 

The radio crackled to life as the car flew down the street. “7214, that car was reported stolen this morning. RO is one Robert Johnson. Address 16 West 75^th.”

 

“10-4, Dispatch. 7214 out.” Chelsea hooked the mic to the dash. “Well, that was useful. Of course the car’s stolen.” Hand flat against the roof of the car, she braced for another hard turn. “Why the hell would we have a tail? We’re chasing a dead man!” Unless, she acknowledged with a shiver, the tail had nothing to do with their case.

 

“Don’t ask questions we can’t answer, Rookie. Save them for the guy driving the car.” Cars tried to bail out of their way as Olivia turned onto Parkside and headed back toward Flatbush Avenue.

 

Unfortunately, even with the light and sirens, the tail car had had time to disappear.

 

Completing their next trip down Flatbush at a crawl, Olivia and Chelsea peered into every parking lot. “Damn it!” Chelsea snarled when they couldn’t find the car. “We lost them.”

 

“Yeah.” Olivia was far less concerned by that fact. “I’m betting the 7-1 finds the car abandoned near the subway station.”

 

Chelsea tried to be as philosophical. Staring at her hands fisted on her thighs, she struggled to relax. Deep breathing, closing her eyes…nothing helped. Too much had happened in the last twenty-four hours. Her muscles ached and burned with continued tension.

 

Observant as always, Olivia picked up on that. “This isn’t about our case, is it?” Her head turned and she pinned Chelsea with a glare. “I thought you said your fucked up personal life wasn’t going to get me killed?”

 

“It’s not,” Chelsea answered tersely. Then she slammed a hand into the dash. “At least, I don’t think it will.”

 

Stilted silence filled the car, both of them working on regaining control and dealing with the situation.

 

Staring grimly out of the windshield, Chelsea offered a truce…of sorts. “Look, Liv. The reason I was at the House last night. Munch knows the whole story, and he’s helping me with it. If it looks like that’s the reason for the tail or for anything more than just a long lost relative popping out of nowhere, I’ll bring you up to speed.” It was the best she could do. Chelsea wasn’t ready, despite their status as partners, to give Olivia that much insight into her past.

 

From the flush crawling up Olivia’s face, it wasn’t going to be good enough. “Look, Lake…” Olivia started to say.

 

“That’s all you’re getting.” Jaw clenched, Chelsea regretted – again – transferring from the Brooklyn SVU. At least there she’d worked mostly alone. Cops were always too curious, and they saw too much. Partners…They were just a pain in the ass whenever you needed to keep something private.

 

Olivia was stonily silent for the rest of the drive.

 

Even though it didn’t bode well for their relationship, Chelsea was glad of the respite. Eyes closed, she pretended to nap, mind racing over the events from the last day. She needed to talk to Munch. He’d been planning to call the social worker who’d handled her case. Maybe he’d found something. She needed to run another check on Anshu.

 

The internal to do list went on and on until the car stopped moving and the engine shut off.

 

“Ready for your first glimpse of the Widow McLaren?” Olivia asked quietly.

 

There wasn’t any discernable anger in her voice, and Chelsea looked at her intently.

 

A wry smile indicated an olive branch as Olivia continued. “Make sure you’re ready for anything. As soon as she sees me, I’m betting we hear more than a polite good morning. Gunfire wouldn’t be out of the question.”

 

“Now whose personal life is going to get us killed?” Feeling a little better about their partnership, Chelsea climbed out of the car and made sure her gun was easily accessible. “We have a plan or are we going to let her shoot us?” she asked as they made their way up the front walk.

 

Olivia shrugged. “The plan? Make sure to duck if you see a gun.” With a cheery smile, she knocked on the front door.

 

***

 

Munch’s hand was smooth and dry against Faith’s weapons-callused palm. She noted the information automatically as she tried not to yank her hand away. Her muscles quivered from the strain of resisting her instincts for self preservation.

 

The moment passed without incident, though.

 

Their hands separated and Munch gave her a sardonic smile. “Nice grip.” He wiggled his fingers for a second before winking at Nicole. “Don’t forget to be careful out there, young lady. There won’t always be a handsome and heroic detective sergeant around to protect you.”

 

Even as Faith edged for the door, she had to smile at Munch’s teasing.

 

“Yes, sir. I’ll do that.” Nicole’s polite response sounded extra sincere when she drawled them. She flicked a quick glance between Faith and Munch. “Thanks for the snack, too. I think it might be a while before I see breakfast.” There was enough wry self-mockery in her voice to imply a long talk with Willow was on her schedule.

 

Faith forced herself to nod in agreement with the unspoken comment and took another step toward freedom.

 

That’s when Willow stepped in. She placed her hand firmly on the small of Faith’s back again, rubbing soothingly. “Let’s go, ladies. Nicole’s right. We have a very busy morning ahead of us.” She frowned in Nicole’s direction. “And I’m sure Sergeant Munch has his own work to do.”

 

Munch coughed and covered his mouth with one hand when Nicole slumped and trudged sullenly to the door. “Enjoy the rest of your stay in New York, Ms. Rosenberg.” He turned away and wandered to a paper-strewn desk.

 

With Munch’s eyes no longer on them, Faith relaxed enough to accede to the palm steering her to the doors. She followed Nicole on shaky legs and leaned into Willow’s supportive hand. It felt good and seemed to bolster her flagging strength as they returned to the now busy hallway. Thanks to the increased foot traffic, Faith kept her voice low as she muttered, “Thanks, Red,” before stepping away from Willow.

 

Silence reigned as the trio trotted down the stairs to the lobby. Unlike the first time, Faith was able to harness her nervous energy and avoid doing another Slayer Sprint. Even without the speed, though, she was panting and drenched in sweat by the time they exited the building into the weak winter sunlight.

 

As soon as they reached the car, Faith dug the keys out of her pocket. She needed to sit down. Soon. Her legs were vibrating and she wasn’t sure how long they would continue to hold her up.

 

Nicole had other plans.

 

Before Faith could insert the key into the lock, she felt Nicole’s hand seize her shoulders and spin her around. With a loud thud, she slammed back into the front quarter panel and the keys skittered across the hood onto the pavement.

 

“Are you crazy?” Nicole nearly shouted.

 

Several pedestrians gave them a wide berth and all of them watched the byplay avidly as they went by.

 

Moving in close and pinning Faith to the car, Nicole said with less volume – but no less intensity, “You went into a police station. A police station!”

 

As her adrenaline faded, Faith lost her sense of humor. She glared back at Nicole. “Really? I thought it was the fucking candy store.” Shoving Nicole back a step, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Did you think I was gonna leave you there, Nic? I’m the Head Slayer on this trip. Now, there’s a lot of people that think I ain’t up to the job. Me, included. But even I know you don’t leave one of your own behind.”

 

A jangle distracted her.

 

Faith looked toward the sound and saw Willow scooping the keys off the ground. Seconds later, Willow slid behind the wheel and a dull click announced the rest of the locks releasing.

 

Not budging, Faith waited for Nicole to make her next move.

 

“You know what? You aren’t crazy, Faith.” Nicole sounded very certain and very serious. “I’m not sure what you are – but crazy isn’t it.” Looking suddenly exhausted, she opened the back door and climbed into the car.

 

CHAPTER 10

 

Faith stared at Nicole through the car window. The younger Slayer had her head back and her eyes closed. For an instant, Faith felt the old urges begin to take over. Her hands clenched into fists and rage swept through her. Almost high on the energy and the need for a fight, Faith took a few steps toward the closed rear door. Nicole needed to remember who she was.

 

Her right hand lifted. It touched the door handle.

 

Suddenly, the car engine fired up, shocking Faith out of her anger.

 

Stepping back, she spun away from the car. What the fuck was she thinking? As pedestrians flowed in increasing numbers around her, Faith realized that she wasn’t thinking. That had always been her problem. She’d always specialized in: act, screw up, and then think.

 

The anger began to drain away. Shaking now, from lack of sleep and shame, Faith slowly faced the car a second time. She opened the passenger-side front door and climbed in. “Thought you were gonna leave me behind for a second, Red.” No way did she want either of the other women to know how close to the edge she’d just come. There were enough problems for them all to deal with right now.

 

“Then you shouldn’t pout on the sidewalk.” Willow grinned impishly and pulled out into traffic. Horns blared all around them, and a few drivers showed off their New York hospitality with raised fingers and curses yelled out of open windows.

 

The grin was infectious. Faith’s lips twitched. She fought hard…and lost. “I’m a Slayer, Red,” she said as her dimples made an appearance. “We don’t pout. We scowl.”

 

“Right. That’s why you looked like Nicole kicked your puppy. You were scowling.” Willow stepped on the brakes to avoid running a red light and then turned to face Faith. “I’ll have to write that down. Webster’s must have the definition of ‘scowl’ wrong.”

 

The last of the anger and fear from earlier faded away at the teasing. Settling back and relaxing in the seat, Faith reached out and poked Willow’s shoulder. “I’m gonna have to keep an eye on you, ain’t I? You’re slipping. First there’s this thing with the vamps and Lake, and now you can’t remember what words mean.”

 

They shared a chuckle and then Willow sobered. “As soon as we get back to the hotel, I’ll give Giles a call. I think it’s time we had a real conference call - all of the Council researchers on this project and all of the Juniors here in town, too.”

 

Willow was right. Faith turned her head to look at Nicole.

 

Looking tired but alert, Nicole stared back. “What do you need me to do?” she asked.

 

“Get the minis on the line. Tell ‘em they all need to be at the hotel in an hour.” Faith thought fast. That was going to be far more people than they could squeeze into their room. “Red, that dump of a hotel’s got a conference room, right?”

Willow nodded. “Yes, but I don’t know that we can get one without a reservation. This is New York, not Sunnydale.”

 

“Do whatever ya’ have to. We’re looking at twenty Slayers being in the same place. Unless you want ‘em sitting in each others’ laps and getting crumbs on your side of the bed, we need another room.” Faith stretched out her legs. “I’ll give Tweed a call while you call the hotel.” She smirked. “Don’t think the phone bill’s gonna be small this month.” Nicole was on her phone in the back seat as Faith reached for the one stuffed in her back pocket. Willow already had hers pressed to her ear.

 

***

 

Taking Olivia at her word, Chelsea moved into a defensive stance and rested her hand on the butt of her gun. Muscles tensed, she listened to footfalls inside the house.

 

“Who is it?” a woman’s voice called out.

 

Olivia didn’t say anything. Instead, she smirked at Chelsea and cocked her head at the door.

 

“NYPD, ma’am,” Chelsea called out. She glared at a silently laughing Olivia. “We need to talk to you about your ex-husband.”

 

The door wrenched open. “Are you people deaf or just stupid?” Dressed in a robe and nightgown, Mrs. McLaren glared at them through the screen door. “I have nothing to say to you, and if you come back again, I’ll file harassment charges. Charlie’s been dead for years. If you don’t know whatever it is by now, it ain’t important.”

 

The door slammed so hard the screen door slipped from the latch and bounced against the frame.

 

Fin had been right about the Widow McLaren. She definitely didn’t like the police. Oh, well. Stepping up to the house, Chelsea opened the screen door wide and pounded on the heavy wood door. “Open up, ma’am. There’s been some new information about Mr. McLaren. We need to talk to you.”

 

Her fist swung at empty space as the door unexpectedly ripped open again.

 

Chelsea staggered forward from the momentum. She managed to sidestep Mrs. McLaren and ended up in the shabby entry hall.

 

“Get out of my house!” Mrs. McLaren demanded.

 

“Ma’am…” Chelsea turned slowly to face the other woman, just in case Olivia hadn’t been joking about the shotgun. She relaxed only slightly when the weapon of choice appeared to be a Louisville Slugger and not the barrel of a Remington pump-action.

 

Mrs. McLaren advanced with the bat raised to shoulder level. “I told you people to stay the hell away from me.”

 

“And we told you we might have more questions.” Olivia had followed Chelsea into the house. Standing behind Mrs. McLaren, she watched the older woman closely. “Put the bat down before I have to arrest you for threatening a police officer.”

 

It was a nice try. It didn’t work, though.

 

Inching away from the bat, Chelsea saw Mrs. McLaren’s eyes narrow. “You can’t arrest me. I haven’t hit anyone yet.”

 

Chelsea moved another step away at that “yet.”

 

“Besides, you came into my house uninvited and without a warrant. I’m entitled to defend my home – even from the cops.” The bat lowered, though, and Mrs. McLaren sighed. “Look, what’s it gonna take to get you to leave me alone? I ain’t seen Charlie since two…three years before he died. I don’t know anything.”

 

It was the perfect opening. Praying that she didn’t spook Mrs. McLaren, Chelsea sidled past her. “My partner has an order for your ex-husband’s exhumation, ma’am. If you don’t mind signing it, we’ll be out of your hair.” She smiled as charmingly as she could while Olivia fished the document out of her pocket.

 

The bat dropped further until the head rested on the floor. “Well, I…I suppose I could do that,” Mrs. McLaren said. Holding out her hand, she asked, “You’ll pay to put him back in the ground, though, right? I can’t afford to bury him a second time. Those coffins are expensive.”

 

“The city will pay for it, Mrs. McLaren.” Olivia wiggled the paper a little. “All we need is your signature.”

 

“Fine.” Snatching the form from Olivia’s hand, Mrs. McLaren turned to a battered table and scrounged through the contents of its single drawer until she found a pen. Seconds later, she shoved the document back at Olivia. “I’m holding you to your promise. Don’t come back. I’ve got a friend in the Brooklyn DA’s office, and he said I can sue the city if you harass me.”

 

Olivia took the form and returned it to her pocket. “That’s all we need, Mrs. McLaren.” She backed toward the door with her hands raised.

 

Following quickly, Chelsea fled the house, too.

 

The door slammed behind them, and Olivia pumped a fist. “Yes!” When Chelsea looked at her in confusion, Olivia explained. “When he heard about the exhumation request, Fin bet me two tickets to the Knicks. Half court, fifth row up.”

 

***

 

By the time they walked into the hotel lobby, the conference room had been booked for their use. Faith watched uniformed hotel employees buzzing around the large room, wheeling in steaming carts of food and setting up the teleconference equipment.

 

“Yeah, Tweed. Red’s sitting on the head guy’s shoulder right now, making sure the equipment’s just right. We ain’t got no Juniors, though. Gonna take ‘em a few with all the traffic and shit,” she said into her phone. The connection was bad, and the static made her head hurt.

 

She still managed to pick up his pained sigh. “Yes, I understand that, Faith. However, can you fill me in on what Willow found out about Detective Lake’s past? I’m afraid without that, we have very little to go on and nothing new to report.”

 

“Giles,” Faith was tired enough to drop her usual nickname for him, “you ain’t listening. This meeting ain’t about you telling us what you got. It’s so Red can tell you what she knows and then for all of us to figure out what the fuck we’re gonna do. The plan we got now sucks, and I’m ain’t sending no more minis out to trail Lake again. We got away with one today. They catch another tail, and they ain’t letting her go without a shitload more explanation than we gave ‘em this morning.”

 

A wave caught her attention. “Looks like some of the kids are here.” Faith walked toward Nicole. “I’m gonna let you go while we get everybody sittin’ down.”

 

“Yes. Yes, all right, my dear. I’ll do a little of that myself. I daresay this will be a lengthy meeting,” Giles replied, and the phone went dead in Faith’s hand.

 

Shoving the phone into her back pocket, Faith strode up to Nicole. “How are we doin’ on the rest of the kids?”

 

“Cam and Jessie are here. They hopped a cab from that diner across from the police station. The rest of the gang’s stuck in traffic.” Nicole smirked. “I think I’m going to ask Juanita to teach me Spanish. I want to know what some of those words she used meant.”

 

Faith chuckled. “It ain’t the meaning that’s important, Nic. It’s whether or not you can actually do them.” Scanning the activity in the room again, she realized that most of the employees were gone. “Grab some breakfast before everyone shows up and beats you to it. I gotta check in with Red.” She clapped a hand on Nicole’s shoulder and went back across the room.

 

“We’re ready, Faith,” Willow called out when she saw her approach. “Did you talk to Giles?”

 

“Yeah, he’s having a fit of them vapors about the meeting. You know he hates not being Answer Guy.” Faith sat on a table and planted her boots in a chair. “You need anything from me?”

 

Biting her lip, Willow shook her head. “Not…not really,” she mumbled. From the way she bounced on her toes and avoided Faith’s eyes, though, it was clear she was lying.

 

Faith slid to the floor and walked over to Willow. “Hey,” she said softly. “What’s wrong, Red?”

 

“Nothing.” Willow wrung her hands. “Really, I…”

 

Taking the twitching hands between her own, Faith shook her head. “I ain’t buying it, Red.” She pulled Willow over to a chair and pushed her into it. “Tell me what you need. I wanna help.”

 

Willow bit her lip some more before reaching for her computer bag. “I had this faxed to the hotel. One of the desk clerks brought in a few minutes ago.” She pulled out an envelope stuffed with paper and held it out. “We need to talk about what’s in here…”

 

 

To be continued…

 

Return to Rebelrsr’s SVU Fanfiction