Law and Order: SVU: The Nothing That Usually Happens
"The Nothing That Usually Happens"
law and order: svu, stand-alone
characters: Elliot Stabler, Olivia Benson
pg, not mine
In the misty rain of a very early morning, movement in a battered car parked in the entrance of an alley. Inside, the woman sitting shotgun suddenly turns her head towards the apartment building across the street.
"There."
"What?" The man next to her stirs slightly. Asshole, she thinks. Fell asleep again.
She swats him on the arm, directs his attention up and left while leaning over him to get a better look. "Light. In the window, two floors up. See it?"
He blinks twice before the cobwebs in his eyes clear and he sees over her shoulder what she means. "You think it's our guy?"
She shrugs, her black coat rustling as she settles back down in the passenger seat. "Could be. Don't know." Her voice is quiet in the silence of the car, edged with sleep. Not that she's been sleeping, she thinks with a touch of annoyance. Her partner's been covering that nicely.
"Have a nice nap?" she asks.
"Shut up."
The two watch the window, the only source of light on the street besides the blinking yellow streetlight near the alley. He rubs his eyes briefly and she's tempted to make another sarcastic comment, but she's too damn tired. It's early, early morning. They've been parked there for five fruitless hours waiting, and they ran out of conversation about three and a half hours ago.
The streetlight's glow twinkles in the rain. Olivia gazes through the window and thinks about the guy they're looking for coming out of the apartment. She thinks about him seeing the car. She thinks about chasing him and slipping on the wet pavement and falling on her ass.
She sighs. She knows Elliot would tell her not to worry so much, but he's busy watching the window, attempting to look industrious in penance for his nap. She fiddles resignedly with her seat belt -- the light won't be anything. It hasn't been anything all night.
She looks up and the side of his face is squished up against the glass as he squints up at the window through a pair of small binoculars. "Can't see any movement..." Well, of course not.
She worries a little about being conspicuous. Then again, it's three in the morning, God damn it, and no one sane is out here in front of this rundown, old apartment building.
Except her and her partner, of course, but that happens to be their boss's fault. She makes a mental note to complain. It won't accomplish anything because she's already tried that about thirty times and they end up stuck on surveillance anyway, but what the hell.
God damn it. The guy's not coming out and they're wasting time and what will she tell the family waiting in their too empty house?
Head lowered over her hands, she laces her fingers in and out until she has the sudden mental image of Elliot slipping on the pavement and falling on his ass and she's just tired enough that it makes her laugh.
*
He blinks into the binoculars as she unsuccessfully tries to hide a chuckle. When he looks over, she turns her head away, the shade of a smile still hovering on her lips.
He would push the point, but he figures that the explanation probably isn't going to make any sense anyway, considering how long it's been since she's slept. Open cases are tough on all of them, but she's the only one who'll forget to eat or sleep.
He can tell from the way she's been scanning the street that she's worried about being seen. The car is only halfway into the alley and only halfway hidden, because a pickup truck had been parked back there when they showed up, and Elliot didn't want to ding the guy's fender if he didn't have to.
They had had a brief argument about the relative morality of abusing the property of innocent civilians in the pursuit of justice, which he had won.
So they're stuck being conspicuous. So what. They have guns.
He hears her rummaging in her coat pocket. "You think they gave us the wrong address?"
"I wouldn't be fucking surprised." He slouches back in his seat, tosses the binoculars on the dash. The loud, unexpected rattle makes her blink only once, she's almost out of it.
"Nothing?" she asks.
He shakes his head. "Nah."
"This is a waste of time."
"Yeah," he exhales, "no kidding."
She tips her head against the seat and yawns resignedly, which he wishes she wouldn't do, because yawning has a tendency to ricochet between them and amplify until they both end up asleep, her head on his shoulder while their target takes the back way out.
Always fun to explain to the captain.
The light in the window goes out.
They wait five minutes. Nothing.
She sighs. "Fuck it."
He picks up the radio. "We're coming in."
He starts the car and their headlights cut two streaks of yellow into the mist.
law and order: svu, stand-alone
characters: Elliot Stabler, Olivia Benson
pg, not mine
In the misty rain of a very early morning, movement in a battered car parked in the entrance of an alley. Inside, the woman sitting shotgun suddenly turns her head towards the apartment building across the street.
"There."
"What?" The man next to her stirs slightly. Asshole, she thinks. Fell asleep again.
She swats him on the arm, directs his attention up and left while leaning over him to get a better look. "Light. In the window, two floors up. See it?"
He blinks twice before the cobwebs in his eyes clear and he sees over her shoulder what she means. "You think it's our guy?"
She shrugs, her black coat rustling as she settles back down in the passenger seat. "Could be. Don't know." Her voice is quiet in the silence of the car, edged with sleep. Not that she's been sleeping, she thinks with a touch of annoyance. Her partner's been covering that nicely.
"Have a nice nap?" she asks.
"Shut up."
The two watch the window, the only source of light on the street besides the blinking yellow streetlight near the alley. He rubs his eyes briefly and she's tempted to make another sarcastic comment, but she's too damn tired. It's early, early morning. They've been parked there for five fruitless hours waiting, and they ran out of conversation about three and a half hours ago.
The streetlight's glow twinkles in the rain. Olivia gazes through the window and thinks about the guy they're looking for coming out of the apartment. She thinks about him seeing the car. She thinks about chasing him and slipping on the wet pavement and falling on her ass.
She sighs. She knows Elliot would tell her not to worry so much, but he's busy watching the window, attempting to look industrious in penance for his nap. She fiddles resignedly with her seat belt -- the light won't be anything. It hasn't been anything all night.
She looks up and the side of his face is squished up against the glass as he squints up at the window through a pair of small binoculars. "Can't see any movement..." Well, of course not.
She worries a little about being conspicuous. Then again, it's three in the morning, God damn it, and no one sane is out here in front of this rundown, old apartment building.
Except her and her partner, of course, but that happens to be their boss's fault. She makes a mental note to complain. It won't accomplish anything because she's already tried that about thirty times and they end up stuck on surveillance anyway, but what the hell.
God damn it. The guy's not coming out and they're wasting time and what will she tell the family waiting in their too empty house?
Head lowered over her hands, she laces her fingers in and out until she has the sudden mental image of Elliot slipping on the pavement and falling on his ass and she's just tired enough that it makes her laugh.
*
He blinks into the binoculars as she unsuccessfully tries to hide a chuckle. When he looks over, she turns her head away, the shade of a smile still hovering on her lips.
He would push the point, but he figures that the explanation probably isn't going to make any sense anyway, considering how long it's been since she's slept. Open cases are tough on all of them, but she's the only one who'll forget to eat or sleep.
He can tell from the way she's been scanning the street that she's worried about being seen. The car is only halfway into the alley and only halfway hidden, because a pickup truck had been parked back there when they showed up, and Elliot didn't want to ding the guy's fender if he didn't have to.
They had had a brief argument about the relative morality of abusing the property of innocent civilians in the pursuit of justice, which he had won.
So they're stuck being conspicuous. So what. They have guns.
He hears her rummaging in her coat pocket. "You think they gave us the wrong address?"
"I wouldn't be fucking surprised." He slouches back in his seat, tosses the binoculars on the dash. The loud, unexpected rattle makes her blink only once, she's almost out of it.
"Nothing?" she asks.
He shakes his head. "Nah."
"This is a waste of time."
"Yeah," he exhales, "no kidding."
She tips her head against the seat and yawns resignedly, which he wishes she wouldn't do, because yawning has a tendency to ricochet between them and amplify until they both end up asleep, her head on his shoulder while their target takes the back way out.
Always fun to explain to the captain.
The light in the window goes out.
They wait five minutes. Nothing.
She sighs. "Fuck it."
He picks up the radio. "We're coming in."
He starts the car and their headlights cut two streaks of yellow into the mist.