AN: This is slightly AU in that Rollins still works for APD and Nick is already working at SVU with Liv and the gang, and he's already divorced. However, characters are still pretty much the same.

I've had this idea of a rollaro undercover fanfic for ages (since April) and I just never got around to it because, besides the two of them being undercover, I didn't have a plot. And I do terribly with updating stories if I don't have an idea of where it's going *cough*Save Room*cough*. The good news is, I now have an idea of how many chapters this will be and the general idea of what happens in each chapter. So I have high hopes that this will be updated fairly regularly. Please read, enjoy, and review!

Hush

1. Touchdown

"The weather outside is a balmy 86 degrees with a 70 percent chance of rainfall later this evening. And you don't want to get caught out in the rain without an umbrella," announced the chipper voice over the PA system. "Enjoy your stay here in New York. And from our crew, we thank you for choosing to fly with United Airlines."

As soon as the seatbelt sign turned off, Amanda Rollins stood up along with the overeager crowd. First in her row to take up the aisle, she retrieved her carry-on from the overhead bin. But even in her haste, she still had to wait for everyone in front of her to collect their belongings and file out of the doors. Normally, she didn't have a problem waiting; but she couldn't help but internally chastise the mother of two, who was holding up the line because she couldn't seem to wrangle in her toddlers and their suitcases. Breathing deep, she glanced at the time on her phone. It was two hours after her scheduled arrival all thanks to an engine failure that delayed their flight. And all she really wanted in that moment was an emergency exit out of that suffocating cabin.

Once inside JFK, Amanda coursed through the crowd. Her restless legs navigated and led her to Arrivals, where she dodged an approaching family. They had tears in their eyes as they ran straight in her direction. She got shoved in all the excitement by a woman who promptly apologized, "Lo siento!" Amanda held her hand up as if to tell her it was no big deal, but the woman had already leaped into the arms of a man in military fatigues. The family embraced him, his brown eyes tearing up at the sight of a newborn baby.

Outside the airport, there was a line of yellow cabs waiting for customers. In the back of her mind, she thought it was all so quintessentially New York, but she felt wrong for wasting time and marveling at the spellbinding facets of the city. She watched in awe as a man in a suit effortlessly hailed a cab. He slid into the backseat, cellphone still pressed up against his ear without a break in conversation. Amanda pulled her sunglasses over her eyes and raised an arm up. A taxi pulled up by the curb and she threw her suitcase into the trunk before the driver even had a chance to make it halfway around to help her.

"39th Street and Park Avenue South," she instructed the driver. Once she received word of where she was supposed to go as soon as she arrived in the city, she embedded the address into memory.

He flashed a look at the rearview mirror and arched his brows. "The police station? I was just there last night to bail out my dumbass nephew," he said with a chuckle. She forced a smile, in silent prayer that the cab driver would step on the gas. "They caught him exposing himself at the park… I told them, he's just a kid… Hormones, ya know?"

The drive into Manhattan was hell. Traffic was bumper to bumper and it did no favors for the tight-lipped state of panic she was in. Ever since Amanda found out her sister had been taken, she submerged herself in this ocean of dread – some would have even called it hysteria. She blamed herself for those two months she ignored the loss of contact with Kim. She allowed her personal feelings – her anger, her disappointment, and her sense of betrayal – get in the way of her responsibility to protect her sister.

Kim promised she would get herself clean and stay away from her abusive ex-boyfriend. Amanda should have known, from experience, that Kim wouldn't have kept her word. She left Jeff but she fell right back into drugs. And Amanda was just so tired of picking up the pieces and sweeping up the messes Hurricane Kim left behind.

She knew her sister was an adult who could make her own decisions. But she would always be her little sister, and no one besides Amanda understood how Kim was a victim of the circumstances of their upbringing. She couldn't be held accountable for most of the things she's done. And as much as Amanda would've liked to teach Kim a lesson in exercising autonomy and getting herself out of a bind on her own, being abducted and forced to turn tricks rendered her powerless.

So this was where Amanda stepped in to save her.

With the help of Captain Sam Reynolds, she was able to pull the investigation from the Cold Case Unit and work on it in in the QT. After tireless research, she finally had a strong lead that the girls were being housed close to the Tuckahoe Wood Preserve in Long Island. Her captain warned her that the department didn't want them wasting time on a case that was likely in the NYPD's purview now that the girls were out of state. But he knew both Rollins girls and he understood why this was important to his detective; so he gave her some elbowroom even if it was against the orders of the brass. Amanda did, however, go under Sam's advisement when she sent her discoveries, withholding information about her sister, to the NYPD. But when she told Sam that the NYPD read through the case files and gave her their backing, he eventually relented and took care of the paperwork to have her sent to New York.

In the twenty-four hours since her temporary transfer was filed, Amanda had been a ball of nerves, running on Venti Pikes and Clif Bars. Every day she spent outside the investigation was another day her sister was being sold to men with deep pockets and distinguished reputations.

As she sat in the backseat of the taxi, she impatiently tapped her fingers on her thigh. The undercover assignment couldn't happen soon enough, she thought to herself.

She trusted that the NYPD observed her request to work alongside an experienced officer who completed numerous undercover operations and busted his fair share of sex trafficking rings. She knew she had a lot on the line with this case and she couldn't afford to screw it up by being paired with someone inexperienced and incompetent. She was never more meticulous about details in her life; and that was why she specifically asked the department that she go undercover with none other than Lieutenant Declan Murphy.

The routine commotion of the squad room existed in contrast with Nick Amaro's quiet concentration. He looked over his notes, scribbled hastily in chicken scratch only he could decipher; then, he entered the information into the system. Names, dates, fingerprints, and DNA surrendered to the state to be later used as ammunition. Printing pages of those standard reports and signing off on them had always been the most monotonous and time-consuming part of the job; but he accepted they were par for the course. Begrudgingly, he understood that in order to go out on the street and chase perpetrators, he needed to suck it up and exercise some patience. He just needed to wall off the distractions of the round-the-clock 911 calls, sit his ass down, and type.

"Amaro."

Nick broke through the makeshift bubble of concentration to see Captain Cragen standing at the threshold of his office. "Yeah, Cap?"

"There's something we need to discuss," he announced rather ominously, tilting his head toward the room. "Those DD-5s can wait."

Olivia Benson looked up from her own stack of paperwork and furrowed her brows at her partner. If the captain was telling him to hold off on DD-5s and asking to speak with him privately, then it must have been serious.

Nick's memory jogged back to his most recent case and he combed through his investigative approach, but nothing stuck out. As far as he knew, he hadn't screwed up. Returning the puzzled look to his partner, he shrugged his shoulders and rose from his chair. Olivia tapped her pen on her notebook as her mouth curled up into a little smirk. "You in trouble?" she teased. "Does this mean I'm getting a new partner?"

He rolled his eyes. "Be careful what you wish for, Benson. 'Sides, why'd you want to work with someone else?"

She shook her head with a smile and gestured to the captain's office. "Don't keep the boss waiting."

Upon entering the office, Nick closed the door behind him. The last thing he needed was the rest of the squad piling up at the door to eavesdrop on the probable scolding he'd be receiving for something he wasn't even sure he did. But Cragen didn't even look upset; then again, the man had mastered the art of maintaining a stoic facial expression even when faced with the grisliest of cases. "Take a seat," Cragen gestured toward the chair in front of his desk.

Nick sat down, resisting the impulse to casually slouch forward and appear the slightest bit unprofessional in front of his captain. Even though the man in front of him had already reviewed the gradually growing collection of screw-ups in his jacket.

"I called you in here to ask if you'd be interested in committing yourself to an undercover assignment." He took a folder and opened it, briefly glancing at the heading at the top of the page. "The brass estimates the operation will take two to three months to complete, and you will need to go into deep cover. The objective is to take down a prostitution ring that has presence in Manhattan, but we believe they operate largely from Southampton. And Suffolk County police isn't trained for the provisions of this type of operation."

"Cap, undercover?" Nick asked, his eyes wide in surprise. Not that undercover work was new to him; but since moving from Narcotics to SVU, he hadn't stepped into the shoes of a character for longer than a couple of hours. "I'll have to think about it."

"If you choose to take this assignment, you'll be living in a guesthouse by the beach for the duration of the summer," Cragen said with a smile that he hoped would convince his detective. "I reckon this isn't the kind of living conditions you were used to while working UC."

Nick scratched his temple and shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. It sure beats sleeping on the floor in a crack house."

Cragen pressed his lips together in a tight smile as he interlocked his fingers over his desk. "I have to tell you, this case is time-sensitive. You and your partner would be assuming your roles and moving into the Hamptons by Friday."

"Partner?" Nick asked, pointing his thumb back out toward the squad room. "Why isn't Liv here?"

"The onset of this investigation was in Atlanta. The case was cold for a few years, but it was re-opened a few months ago when several teenage girls from a voluntary group home went missing. APD refuses to do anything about it, but one of their detectives sent her research up here; and the NYPD wants these guys behind bars," Cragen explained. "The detective who's been working this case will be your partner. She'll play your wife."

"My wife?" Nick chuckled. This was a first, even for him.

"Look, Amaro, I know when you transferred to SVU, you asked for no long-term undercover assignments on account of your family. And I don't intend to ignore your request, but I have overheard you talking to Benson about your ex-wife –"

"—And how she's taking my daughter to California this summer?" Nick asked with a wry smile. "Yeah, the courts decide we get shared custody of Zara and what does she do? She signs her up for summer camp… Maria will do anything just to keep me from seeing my kid."

Cragen placed his palms up in an attempt to calm down the hotheaded detective. "I'm sorry about the divorce, Nick. I understand why you're angry," he said with a heavy sigh. "One of the reasons why I'm advising you to take this assignment is because, I think, this will keep you focused on something else. And before you know it, summer's over and Zara will be back in New York with you."

Nick nodded in agreement.

"Also, the brass contacted me earlier today and specifically asked for you. They're aware of your undercover work and they think your experience coupled with your years here in Special Victims will help them close this case." Nick's eyes widened at the revelation that high-ranking members of the NYPD wanted him on this UC bust. At that point, he felt he had no choice but to take the assignment; otherwise, he looked like the chump who couldn't be counted on. "The brass asked me if you're good police and I vouched for you. So, I hope that you strongly consider this offer."

"Yeah…" Nick trailed off, still a little dumbfounded that all his hard work was now being recognized. "Yes – yes, of course. I'll do it."

By the time the cab dropped her off at the 16th precinct in Manhattan, the sky was streaked with shades of red and purple. Storm clouds loomed over in the distance, ready to unleash in the later hours of the evening. Amanda entered the building and headed straight to the elevator, which – she was thankful - was empty. Leaning her head against the wall, she closed her eyes and exhaled deeply, repeating to herself that she was one step closer to finding her sister.

She arrived in the squad room, wheeling her suitcase behind her. A uniformed officer stopped in his tracks and asked if he could be of any assistance. She didn't miss the way he looked her up and down and the way his mouth curled up into a sly smile. "I'm here to meet with Captain Cragen," she told him. The officer looked over his shoulder to see the door closed and the blinds drawn in the captain's office. Another man stood up from his desk and walked over toward them.

"Harrison, I got this," said the man dressed casually in the midst of uniformed police and detectives in suits. He extended his hand out for her to shake. "Detective Fin Tutuola."

"Detective Amanda Rollins, Atlanta PD."

"Atlanta?" Fin cocked his head to the side and arched a brow. "What brings you here?"

"I'm on loan to the NYPD, and I was told I'm supposed to meet with Captain Cragen about an assignment." She looked past his shoulder to the office. "Is he in there?"

"Yeah, but he's in another meeting. Why don't you sit down over here," he said and gestured to the chair beside his desk. "I'm gonna let him know that you're here."

Amanda smiled back at him, feeling a little more at ease that Fin was being nice to her without examining her like some piece of meat. She glanced up to see a man with gray hair study her with curiosity. He smiled and shook his head. "I'm sorry." He reached over and extended his hand for her to shake. "Sergeant John Munch. I'm Detective Tutuola's partner."

She shook his hand and nodded. "Nice to meet you, sarge."

The door to the office opened and Fin came out followed by a brunette woman and two men. Amanda assumed the captain was the last one to file out; he appeared much older and he caught her eye with recognition. He walked toward her and she immediately stood up to offer her hand. "Captain Cragen, it's great to finally meet you."

"Detective Rollins, I've heard a lot about you," he said with a soft smile. "I see you've met Munch and Fin. Don't let these two muddy your notions of the NYPD; they're a deviation from normal."

"Hey," Munch protested. "I'd like to think we are unique."

"Yeah, man, maybe just you," Fin quipped back.

"Anyway," Cragen began to say, pointing at the two other detectives who emerged from his office. "These are detectives Benson and Amaro."

She nodded her head at them before she turned back to Captain Cragen. "Don't get me wrong, it's great meeting all of you but I was told I would also be meeting my partner for this operation. I – I, uh, don't see him here." Amanda looked around the room for a certain Declan Murphy.

"The brass didn't tell you?" Cragen asked; his brows furrowed in confusion.

"Didn't tell me what?"

"They didn't think Lieutenant Murphy was a good fit for this particular deep cover operative. The cover story they have written up is for someone younger. And the department feels that, in the context of this assignment, Murphy playing your husband will not yield results. So we decided to pair you up with someone else."

Amanda opened her mouth to protest when she saw Detective Amaro take a step forward. "Y-you? You're going to be my partner?"

Nick blinked slowly, taken aback by the judgmental attitude of the Atlanta detective.

Cragen sensed the growing tension in the room and moved quickly to pacify it. "Detective Amaro is an excellent second grade detective. He's done a number of successful undercover operations during his time in Narcotics – he took down the MS-13 case," he said, hoping Amanda had heard about the major drug bust that was a big deal in the tri-state area. "And he's worked in SVU for the last three years so he is very much familiar with the nature of sex crimes."

Amanda chewed on her lip and pondered Cragen's endorsement of Nick Amaro. He was a grade higher than her and he had undercover experience, but he was not who she asked for; he was not who she was promised.

Even after Cragen's glowing review, Nick noticed that Amanda, with the sullen expression on her face, still seemed unimpressed. He almost wanted to go back into the office, scratch over his signature, and rescind the contract. The department could go find another guy to play house with the blonde. But, then, his naturally stubborn self just wanted to prove her wrong for underestimating him.

"Now that you're both here, I can brief you on the operation and pass along the instructions from the brass," Cragen said, leading the way into his office. "I'm sure you're both dying to know your cover stories." He smiled, hoping that would melt some of the ice between the two detectives.

Amanda and Nick followed him inside but they crowded at the door, and they ended up blocking each other's paths. She glared at him and he returned it with a pasted smile, stepping aside and sweeping his hand to let her pass. He caught her rolling her eyes and he shook his head. He hung back and threw a look at Olivia, mouthing, 'Save me.'

2 months later

The constant trickle of water on the concrete was the sound that woke her up. Her lids fluttered open to a cloud of white spots. As her pupils adjusted and she blinked the fog from her eyes, she observed the dark and dingy space. Everything was in shades of gray apart from the orange, rusty nails sticking out of blocks of cement. Carefully, she lifted her neck to see a high, exposed ceiling with iron beams running along the length of the room.

A bead of sweat coursed from her forehead down to the bridge of her nose, falling to her cut lip. The salt stung against the open wound, momentarily distracting her from the other cuts and bruises marring her body. She hissed but the noise is caught in her parched throat, just in time to hear the deep rumble of her empty stomach.

The summer air was hot and thick. She was sweating from the heat and lack of ventilation but, just beneath her skin, she felt cold. Her body shivered, which only made the pain in her muscles cry with more intensity. Her head was pounding and it was becoming more and more difficult for her to keep her eyes open.

All she wanted to do was lie down and sleep but she couldn't move in her position. The only reason she was upright was because her hands were over her head, her wrists bound tightly by rope that was chafing and burning her skin. The more she struggled, the more it ate away at the top layers; so she decided to stay still.

Her body quivered again as she felt the chill rush up her spine and strike severely at the nape of her neck. Her head fell forward and her eyes blinked open in shock as she stared down at her naked body. She was filthy with dirt, grime, and dried blood. She stared further down below her waist to see fresh blood dripping down her legs. A whimper escaped her throat and she sobbed, even if it physically pained her.

"Stop crying!"

The voice rattled her and she immediately ceased. Slowly, she lifted her head and saw two figures emerge from the shadows. They were both tall men with broad shoulders and cropped hair. As they moved toward her, the little light that seeped through the cracks in the walls revealed their features. They were familiar. The planes on their face and the set of their eyes – she had seen them before. And one pair of eyes, staring at her like a predator, made her instinctively clench her legs together. The predator's mouth curled up into a wicked smile as he neared her. She turned her head away but he grabbed her by the chin and forced her to look at him.

"We meet again, Amanda Rollins."