A/N: Here it is! The sequel to "A Million Pieces"! Hope ya'll like it. It's a good deal longer and (I think) a good deal more intense than its predecessor, but you're the only people that can tell me whether I'm on track. I try to explain as much as I can within this story, but it would probably behoove you to read the first one, if you haven't already. As always, leave a review! Oh, and I'm pretending like "Cold" never happened. It's my world, and I can do that.

Disclaimer: I barely have enough money to buy Season 7 in two weeks. So obviously, I don't own any characters you recognize from the show.

Chapter 1

The night lights of New York City shimmered brightly off the skyscraper windows as he made his way down the relatively empty streets. But he didn't really care. He wasn't interested in sightseeing. He was a man on a mission.

He discreetly turned into an alley across from One Hogan Place and quietly opened a side door leading to a darkened stairwell. Some of the windows across the street were still brightly lit, even at this late hour. Including hers. It was a dangerous job—spying on a member of the Manhattan DA's office. They were generally well-protected by the cops, who, for the most part, considered them their own. But this wasn't the first dangerous job he'd ever had. In fact, this part was easy. All he had to do was watch. And wait until she made a move. Like a game of chess.

Finally he reached the top of the stairs and opened the door to the roof. From here he could see clearly into her office, even without the binoculars he'd brought. But he took them out of his black backpack anyway. In one expert flick of his wrist he brought the window into focus. Her head was bent over a manila folder, her reddish-blonde hair falling softly over her shoulders. He smiled. It was a shame that she'd chosen to associate with the wrong people. She was actually quite pretty.

He sighed and sat down on the ledge in front of him. It would be a long wait.

ADA Casey Novak groaned and let her head whack her desktop hard. Sometimes she just hated her job. She hated the constant pictures of the depravity of mankind. She was more than happy to put those murderers and rapists and child molesters behind bars, but at times she'd wake up in a cold sweat when her job invaded her dreams. She held up another photo of a raped and murdered little boy and grimaced at the blood-covered body. When she started the job, she'd thought she'd get used to it. But she never did. It didn't help that the defendant was barely eighteen years old. So young, and already on trial for his life.

For the twentieth time that day, she allowed her mind to wander to Jack Calhoun, her boyfriend living somewhere in the southern United States. She didn't know where, and she couldn't know where, for her safety as well as his. It had been four months since the FBI agent had entered witness protection for his testimony against a mob hitman. Every day for the last four months, he called her from a different disposable cell phone, just to talk. Though their talks weren't long enough for her, they were better than cutting off all contact with him. Casey couldn't bear the thought of never speaking to him again.

She glanced at her watch. Half past eight. He would be calling soon.

Sure enough, her cell phone chirped at her from the corner of her desk. An unconscious smile crept over her face, as it always did when he called. Casey reached for it and deftly flipped it open. "Novak."

"Well, if it isn't the prettiest ADA in New York and the love of my life."

Casey grinned. "Hey Jack."

"Hey yourself. How are you today?"

"Missing you," she sighed. "I think my day would be much better if I could come home to you."

"I know, honey." Jack's voice took a sympathetic tone. "I wish I could take you in my arms and kiss you and make love to every inch of your glorious body…"

"God, Jack," Casey groaned, feeling a flush creep over her face. "I'm still at the office."

"So I guess it's not a good time for phone sex, huh?" His voice was deep and seductive, and she could just picture the cocky grin he probably had on his face. She had to laugh at the way he could turn her on with just his words.

"Definitely not. I think phone sex on office time would be a great way to get me fired."

"I guess so, but at least if you got fired you could come live with me."

She smiled. "Believe me, babe, there's nothing I would love more. Even hearing you snore all night long would be amazing."

"Hey, I do not snore." Casey smirked at his defensive tone. "What are you still doing at the office anyway? It's late. Go get some sleep."

"I wish I could." She leaned back in her chair. "I'm working on a summation I have to give tomorrow."

"Big case?"

"Yeah. A little boy was raped and murdered in Central Park a couple of months ago. We caught the guy, but the trial's tougher than I thought."

"Wow. No wonder you're tired."

"I'm just ready for it to be over. The guy that did it is just a kid, Jack. Barely eighteen. And it looks like it could go either way. Juries don't like putting kids behind bars for life." Casey sighed.

There was silence on the other end of the line for just a moment. "What's really bugging you, Casey?" Jack finally asked.

"Oh, I don't know." She sighed again. "Sometimes I get so tired of everything I see. All the worst of mankind. Especially this kid. I've prosecuted so many just like him, kids that could've really done something in life. But then they screw it up, and we're left to clean it up."

Jack paused, and she knew he was trying to think of the right words to say. "I know, Case. But you're so good at what you do. What about that serial rapist you convicted last month? People are safe because of you. It sucks, but I know you're doing the right thing with this kid. He shouldn't be free to do it again to another little boy. That kid deserves justice, regardless of his murderer's age. And that's the law."

Casey smiled. Finally, a man that understood her. "Have I ever told you I love you?"

"Yes, but I like to hear it anyway."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"Thank you for the refresher course on why I love my job. Is that part about the little boy deserving justice copyrighted?"

Jack laughed. "You're more than welcome to use it in your closing argument."

"Thank you." Suddenly a soft knock sounded at her door, and Detective Olivia Benson slowly opened it, a questioning look on her face. Recognizing that expression, Casey waved her into the office, and Olivia quietly closed the door behind her. "Hey, Jack? Olivia just got here. I have to go."

"Detective Benson? Tell her I said hi."

Casey grinned. "I will." She turned her body slightly so she was facing away from Olivia. "I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too, Casey. I'll call you tomorrow morning."

"Can't wait. Good night, love."

"Good night, sweetheart."

Casey sighed again and flipped the phone shut. She stared at it for a moment, lost in thought, until Olivia cleared her throat. She jumped and whipped around, startled. "Oh, hey, sorry, Liv. What's up?"

"We, uh, need a search warrant for Lucas Davidson."

"The shrink?" Casey sat down in her chair and pulled out a blue-backed legal document. "What's the evidence?"

"His DNA in the victim. Lab matched it about an hour ago. If we can find evidence in the house and office of the ropes he used to tie her up…"

"We can corroborate the victim's story," Casey finished. She sighed. "Right. I'll get this typed up for you and try to track down a judge."

Olivia smiled. "Thanks, Case. So," she gestured toward the phone, "was that Jack?" Olivia was the only person who knew that Casey was still in a relationship with him.

Casey glanced at her phone and looked back at Olivia. "Yeah. He said to tell you hi."

"So how is he?"

"He's doing great. I think he misses the city and he misses me, but he's doing good. He got a job, working at a travel agency. Not quite the same as undercover FBI work, but he says it's all right."

Olivia gave her a sympathetic look and say down in one of the chairs across from Casey's desk. "I gotta hand it to you, Casey. It takes a lot of patience to do what you're doing."

The younger woman leaned forward and rested her elbows on the desk. "You know when there's something that you want, that you know is going to change your life, and you want it so bad you're willing to wait as long as it takes to get it?"

Olivia nodded once.

"That's how I feel about Jack. I miss him like crazy. I miss being able to curl up next to him in bed and feel his arm tighten around me. But I understand that he wants to stay safe, and he wants to keep me safe, and this is the only way to do that. So we're getting to know each other in a less-than-conventional way? It'll be that much sweeter when it's safe for him to come back." Casey gave her friend a wan smile. "When you truly love someone, you have to think of them before yourself."

The detective shook her head and smiled. Four months ago, she had met Jack Calhoun, when his name was Jack O'Brian and his profession questionable. Though she had had her doubts, she had seen the way he had treated Casey after his true identity had come out. More importantly, she knew Casey loved this guy, and she trusted her judgment. She also knew how hard it was for the young attorney to feel that way about a man, since Casey had opened up to her about her mentally-ill ex-fiancé. And that was why Olivia didn't want to see her colleague—her friend—hurt. "I'm happy for you, Casey. Really I am."

"I know."

"Get that search warrant for us?"

"Yeah, I'm leaving soon. I'll drop it by the station."

Olivia stood. "Great. I'd really love to get this son of a bitch in jail so he can't rape any more of his patients. You're giving your closing tomorrow on the Sanderson case, right?"

Casey groaned. "Don't remind me. I'm still not done."

"I'm sure you'll finish, and you'll blow 'em out of the water." Olivia grinned as she crossed the room and opened the door. "You'll get that warrant?"

"I'm on my way out right now," she replied, emphasizing the statement by stuffing a couple of file folders into her briefcase.

Olivia grinned. "Make it snappy." With that, she shut the door and disappeared into the darkened corridor.

He sat straight up and focused the binoculars. She was crossing the room and reaching for the light switch. Quickly he grabbed his backpack, stuffed the binoculars inside, and dashed toward the exit, punching numbers into his cell phone as he ran. It was time to make his move.

The phone rang once in his ear before a familiar voice answered. "She's leaving the building now," he said into the microphone.

"Good," the deep bass voice replied. "You know your job."

"Yes sir," he confirmed. A click followed by a dial tone sounded in his ear just as he reached the last flight of stairs. He snapped it shut and gracefully jumped down the last few steps. Yes sir, he knew his job. And he was good at it.

Casey stepped off the elevator into the lobby. The night guard waved good night, and she smiled and returned the wave. She shifted her briefcase into her other hand to push open the door and inhaled deeply as she stepped out into the cool night air. Friday night. Guess I'll have to interrupt Judge Terhune's poker night… again, she mused as she walked down the street to where she kept her bicycle locked up. Casey cursed under her breath at the thought of reliving that nightmare.

As she approached her bike, leaning naturally against the brick exterior of her office, the hairs on the back of her neck suddenly stood straight up, and Casey shivered. Probably just the wind, she thought. After all, it was February.

But the thought wasn't comforting. Something wasn't right.

She was so focused on getting out of there that she didn't look down the alley between her office and the neighboring building. She didn't notice the shadowy figure sneaking up on her from the alley. She didn't see the black, unmarked van pull up next to the curb a couple of yards away. And she didn't smell the telltale aroma of the chloroform on the handkerchief the figure carried in his hand.

But Casey did feel the arm wrap around her shoulders as she was dragged into the alley, away from roving eyes on the street. She managed a surprised oof as her attacker's gloved hand came around and roughly clamped the kerchief against her mouth. Casey had never smelled chloroform, but she could figure out what it was easily enough as the alley started spinning. Oh shit, she briefly thought before panic mode took over.

Her elbow jerked back and connected with something solid, and a hot whoosh of air whistled past her ear. But his grip never loosened, and the drug worked fast. In a last-ditch effort before the darkness took over, she reached up behind her and raked her nails across his face. He grunted in pain, but his grip over her mouth was just too strong. Finally, the ever-threatening blackness closed in on her.

He sighed as her body went limp in his arms. It was about time. The bitch had fought harder than he anticipated. He had to admit, she had balls. And incredibly sharp nails, he thought ruefully as his face stung like hell.

He reached down and gathered the unconscious attorney into his strong arms. Two guys jumped out of the van next to the curb and quickly opened the back door. He gently laid her in the back of the van, careful not to bruise her. The Boss would not be happy if she came to him injured more than necessary. The two thugs closed the doors, nodded at him, and quickly sped away. He checked his watch. Nine o'clock. The whole thing had taken less than a minute.

A sticky substance trickled down his cheek, and he quickly wiped it away. He knew it was blood, even without looking. Damn, she had gotten him good. He wiped his cheek and turned to head right into the DA's office. It was a gutsy move, but then, he was a gutsy guy. Risks gave him an adrenaline rush, and there was nothing more risky than waltzing into the DA's office after what he'd just done.

The night guard looked up as he walked into the marble lobby. The old fellow flashed a quick smile at the visitor. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, actually you can. I'm here to see ADA Novak. Is she here?"

"Sorry, sir, but you just missed her. She left about five minutes ago."

"Oh." He feigned disappointment and pulled out the piece of paper from his jacket pocket. "Could you give this to her the next time you see her? Or maybe one of those SVU detectives she works with. They seem like they could help."

The guard's eyes narrowed slightly. Something was off about this guy. He had a thin stream of blood making its way down his cheek from a few scratches. But he took the card anyway. He'd be sure to ask Ms. Novak about it the next time he saw her. "Sure thing."

He smiled. "Thank you." Quickly he turned on his heel and went out into the night air again. Finally, he let a little smile spread across his face. It was going well. Right on time.

"Where the hell is she?" Olivia growled for the third time that night. She glanced quickly at her watch. It was already nine-thirty.

Her partner, Elliot Stabler, bit back an amused grin from his desk as he watched his livid partner pace around the squad room. "Liv, relax. She probably got hung up in traffic."

"At this time of night?" She turned on her heel to resume pacing. "It's been an hour. She should've gotten it by now."

"Maybe it took a while to track down the judge."

"Bull crap, Elliot." Olivia grabbed her coat from the back of her chair. "Let's go to her office."

Elliot opened his mouth to protest, but he changed his mind when he saw the look on his partner's face. Silently grumbling, he shrugged on his jacket and followed her out the door.

As they approached Casey's office, something next to the building caught Olivia's eye. She squinted slightly. "Hey, Elliot." She nudged Elliot and pointed out the window. "Isn't that Casey's bike?"

He risked a glance. "Sure is." He jerked the wheel sharply and did a typical cop's job of parallel parking. "She must be in her office."

"She was on her way out when I left." Olivia opened the door and practically jumped out of the car with Elliot hot on her heels. She yanked open the door, not even bothering to make sure it didn't slam shut on her partner, and strode up to the front desk. "'Scuse me." Her badge flashed in the fluorescent lighting.

The night guard glanced up and smiled. "Detective Benson. What can I do for you?"

"We're looking for ADA Novak. Have you seen her?" Behind her, Elliot dialed Casey's cell phone number and stood off to the side.

He shook his head. "Sorry, Detective, she left about forty-five minutes ago. But since you're here, could you give this to her the next time you see her? Some guy brought it by a little while ago, right after she left." He handed her the slip of paper.

Olivia sighed, frustrated. "Sure thing." She joined Elliot by the door just as he shut his phone and slipped it back into his pocket. "She left about forty-five minutes ago. She should have been at the station by now."

"She's not picking up her phone." Elliot gestured to the paper in her hand. "What's that?"

She glanced down, suddenly remembering it. "I don't know. The guard said some guy brought it by for Casey right after she left."

"Open it."

Olivia did just that. Her eyes widened as they scanned it. No. It can't be. She read it again, just to make sure her eyes weren't playing tricks on her. Oh God.

"What is it?" Elliot asked, suddenly concerned. Olivia's eyes were wide and her mouth hung open in shock. "Liv?" He placed a hand on her shoulder gently.

Wordlessly she handed him the slip of paper. He felt numb as he read it three times, just to make sure.

Bring me Jack Calhoun by 6:00 p.m. Saturday evening. No Calhoun, she dies.

A/N2: So... whatcha think? Let me know if you're interested!