title: possession

author: duck

rating: pg-13. shocked?

summary: being raped and having to live with it is horrible in and of itself, but having the word "mine" tattooed on your stomach by your rapist is something else entirely.

author note: i think i got more work done on this one's sequel while i was gone, but let's start anyhow. short intro chapter, the rest are much longer i promise.

disclaimer: and so then i looked it up online and i found out that i do not in fact own these characters and that they belong to someone named "dick wolf." chung-chung!

- Special Victims Unit Squad Room -

- Tuesday August 31st 8:33am -

"So what do you think, Fin?"

"It's a definite possibility."

"They do seem touchier than usual."

"Aren't they always like that?"

"Perhaps, but could last night have been The Night?"

"They did stay here and order-in Chinese, but that's not the most romantic of dinners. Unless it's you we're talkin' about John."

"You cut me deep! Maybe they went home and cuddled up on the couch for a nice movie."

"He's not the most romantic of guys. No flowers yet."

"You know, one day they're going to rush in here late and an absolute mess with a healthy blush on their cheeks and it will answer all our questions."

From her desk Olivia could hear the entire exchange. Her ears were slowly losing their reddish hue and she let the wave of relief bubble up at the thought that Munch hadn't yet mentioned the tango incident of the night before. She met Elliot's gaze and they both rolled their eyes.

"Settle your bet, you mean," she said. She and Elliot preferred to ignore the fact that the rest of the unit had gotten in on it and it was a pool of money now that would go to whoever presented the evidence that they were finally together. "Honestly, don't you guys even remember how to whisper discreetly anymore?"

Elliot snorted from across their joined desks. "The word 'discreet' isn't in their vocabulary, Olivia."

"Besides," Munch added. "You imply we were ever discreet in the first place."

"No, Munch, you just forgot what the words 'Mic On' meant," Elliot laughed.

"Ha ha," he pronounced, not amused.

"Excuse me." The good natured bickering stopped as all four turned to find the source of the timid voice. A young woman stood in the door of the squad room, fingering her black hair nervously. "They said this is where I should report a rape."

- Interview Room -

Olivia set down the cup of coffee in front of the other woman and pulled out a chair to join Elliot. She watched her wrap her hands around the styrofoam cup, her shoulders hunched into her body.

"My name is Sheila Connor," she said hesitantly. "I'm twenty-six. I live in a bit of a rough neighborhood, but I've always been able to handle it. Until last night anyway."

Elliot was scribbling notes so Olivia took up the role of questioner. "What happened last night?"

"I was walking home from the subway station around eight when someone grabbed me from behind." She scratched at her hairline absently. "I think he held a cloth over my mouth and I blacked out. When I woke up I was on a bed and he was there. He was just sitting in this chair watching me." She bit her lip. "When he saw that I was awake he got on top of me without saying anything. He..."

"Raped you?" Olivia filled in. Sheila nodded, one tear spilling down her cheek. "Do you think you can remember his face enough to work with a sketch artist?"

"Yes, but that isn't all," Sheila said. "He didn't use a condom, but he knocked me out again. He must have cleaned me up and when I woke up I was in my apartment." Tears had started to run down her face in earnest.

"I know how scary it must be for him to know where you live," Olivia said. "But you can stay at a shelter for a while--"

"I found this," Sheila sobbed as she stood abruptly, yanking the midriff of her t-shirt up.

Clearly printed in two-inch block letters was the word "MINE." Olivia gapped as Elliot leaned closer, his pen abandoned.

"It's starting to scab," he said, the hints of both anger and amazement in his voice. "He *tattooed* you?"

[tbc]