Make the Bodies Drop [SVU; Elliot/Olivia]
TITLE: Make the Bodies Drop
CHAPTER 16
FANDOM: Law & Order: SVU
PAIRING: Elliot/Olivia
SPOILERS: Season seven, pre-trilogy
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY:
*****
"Carl!" Olivia waved and smiled, the best way to flag down any of the men employed at the Pink Flamingo, and headed toward him with Elliot in tow.
They had gotten the okay from Cragen to reveal themselves to Carl, under the assumption that Carl would sign an agreement not to tell anyone else. Elliot had been less than enthusiastic about it, Cragen not much moreso, but Olivia made a compelling argument. And so the Captain relented.
Carl smiled at them from behind the bar, where he'd been conversing with Tony, and he leaned across the bar to kiss Olivia's cheek. "Liz, Jack, hey."
"Thought you were shuttin' the place down to let the cops investigate," Elliot commented, to which Carl shrugged.
"That would've been great, yeah. But it woulda cost me more to have it shut down and do a quick, possibly fruitless, investigation, than to keep it open and let the boys in blue do a slow investigation."
"Well..." Olivia glimpsed quick at her partner, then looked to Carl. "What if we told you there was a way to do both? A fast investigation while keeping the club open?"
Carl laughed. "Impossible, but I guess I'll hear ya out. What are you suggesting?"
Elliot asked, "Carl, do you have an office backstage or anyplace we can go that's more private?"
This confused the club owner, and he eyed them both suspiciously, but nodded nonetheless, "Yeah sure," and jerked his head toward backstage. "Follow me."
*****
Beyond the private rooms, locker room and dressing room was a small office where Carl handled most of the business. The interior walls were cement, painted over with white which was peeling off in countless places. Several pictures and news articles highlighting the club were taped to the wall, and a corkboard hung just to the right of Carl's computer monitor. Numerous messages were tacked there -- the time of the month bills were due, a vendor contact list, as well as phone numbers for all the dancers, bartenders and bouncers.
On the board and surrounding wallspace were also several Post-Its, in very girly handwriting. A few were time-off requests from various dancers, but most contained little notes like 'I love you always,' 'Call your mom, she says hi,' 'Meeting with the wedding photographer next Tuesday' and 'Hey baby' all in the same handwriting. Olivia swallowed hard at the realization that those were notes from Marissa.
Carl gave them a brief tour of the room (which looked to be more the size of a janitor closet than an office) before gesturing them to sit down. Olivia took a seat first while Elliot closed the door, before he joined her in the other chair across from Carl's desk.
"So! You two were saying?"
The partners again exchanged a glance. "Yeah." Olivia looked up at him while crossing one leg demurely over the other, resituating her skirt in a polite manner. "Carl, I'm afraid we haven't been quite honest with you."
He frowned. "'Bout what?"
"About... our reason for being here," Elliot joined in slowly. He shook his head. "I'm not interested in buying the club."
"What?" Carl looked more than a little miffed at hearing this.
"And I'm not a dancer," Olivia chimed in as she removed her extensions, figuring it best to get all his anger out of the way up front.
And now he looked furious. "What the hell's goin' on here? Why the hell are you here wasting my time if--"
Elliot and Olivia slowly, in unison, drew out their badges, and watched the slow climb of Carl's eyebrows up his forehead.
"What the f--"
"We're detectives," Olivia intoned lowly, "with the Special Victims Unit. We specialize in sexually-based crimes."
Carl just stared between the two of them, the look on his face one of mingling confusion and anger.
Elliot helped him out. "We've been working the case here at the Pink Flamingo. Undercover."
"And you never told me any of this?"
The partners exchanged a look. Elliot turned back to the club owner, speaking slowly and in a level tone as if he were giving a statement to a jury. "Well, Carl, the idea of this particular undercover mission was not to reveal our identities to anyone." He blinked. "Even you."
"Why?"
Elliot drew in a breath. "Well, because it may interfere with our ability to solve the case."
"So why are you telling me now?"
"Honestly?" Olivia raised her eyebrows. "We've hit a dead end. With the limited resources here at the club that we have, we've been unable to find anything conclusive."
"We were hoping you'd be able to give us inside information that we wouldn't have been privy to otherwise."
"I just... I don't get this. You guys come in here, pretend to be a dancer and an investor, and basically just play around in my club until someone gets hurt? Well guess what? Two people got hurt. And one of 'em I don't get back. You really want me to help you with this?"
Elliot looked to his partner and sighed, getting up from his spot and placing his hands on his hips, pacing the tiny enclosed office. Olivia and Carl both glimpsed quick at him, Carl looking more annoyed than Olivia. To Olivia, this was normal behavior from her frustrated partner. Only Carl wasn't exactly a suspect, so losing it at this point and slamming things around was not an option for Elliot, though it was obvious he wanted to.
Olivia spoke lowly, pleadingly, like she did with the victims. "Carl, listen to me. I know that you're still grieving Marissa. You always will be. And I know you're upset that we couldn't get this solved before things escalated to the point that they did. I know you're upset we couldn't save her. And I'm sorry. I wish we could've saved her too." Her voice hardened, just a little, to get his attention once more -- to hammer in what they needed to do. "But keeping us from doing our jobs isn't going to bring her back, Carl, and you know that. If anything it's only going to make the investigation take longer and another dancer is going to get raped or killed. You're the only one that can help us get this solved."
Elliot watched the slow transformation of Carl's expression throughout Olivia's quiet plea. What started as anger ebbed to irritation, then sadness, slight petulance, and then to understanding. Carl was now nodding along in agreement, and Elliot was impressed. He always was -- his partner had a definite way with people, and not just the victims or the kids. With people. She was warm, vivacious, kind, but with a hard edge that helped her when she needed it.
She'd make a great mother, he thought all of a sudden, and banished the thought just as suddenly. "Will you help us, Carl?" he asked, steering his thoughts back to the case and off of his partner.
Carl looked at them both, back and forth, before he drew in a long breath threw his nose, sighing it out the same way. "Yeah, fine," he relented after a moment. "What do you need?"
Elliot and Olivia shared a look before she turned back to the club owner. "Do you keep records of when your employees clock in or out?"
"Yeah, have to."
"How about schedules? Which dancers are working which nights, headlining, etcetera?"
"Yeah..."
Olivia leaned forward with a sudden idea. "What about music?"
Both Carl and Elliot furrowed their brows. "Why?" Elliot asked of his partner, drawing out the question suspiciously.
Olivia ignored him and looked to Carl. "Carl, do you keep track of what you play each night?"
"You mean like for our headliners?"
"That, and just the stuff you normally play."
Carl shrugged both facially and physically. "I dunno, maybe Tony does. I don't really keep track of that kinda stuff. I'll go ask him."
Elliot blocked the door so the club owner couldn't get past. "Whoa whoa, hang on a second. First we've got some business to take care of."
"What kind of business?"
From the inside pocket of his suit, Elliot produced the agreement they'd brought along. "We need you to sign this." He handed it over.
Carl took it and opened the tri-folded packet of paper, looking it over curiously. "What is it?"
Behind him, Olivia told him, "It's an agreement we need you to sign, saying that you won't tell anybody else that we're working here undercover."
"Nobody?"
"Nobody," Elliot repeated, a bit more sternly. "If someone here at the club is committing these crimes and found out we were here, it would seriously compromise the investigation. Understand?"
Carl nodded, "Yeah, definitely," and reached for a pen, scrawling his name. Looking up at Olivia then, he furrowed his brow. "But then what the hell am I supposed to tell him when he asks why I want the music list?"
Olivia shrugged. "Tell him I'm being a diva and want to add some of my favorite songs to the repertoire." She grinned that pearly grin for good measure.
Which snared Carl. As it did so many others who got in its path. Elliot fought the urge to chuckle aloud as Carl responded, "Yeah alright," and headed out the door.
The partners watched him go before Elliot turned to Olivia, sliding his hands across her hips and pulling her close. "Liv, what's goin' on in that mind of yours?"
"I've got this idea..."
"Yeah?" Elliot's brows lifted slightly, and his grin was devilish as he leaned in to kiss her slowly. "It involve me and you blowin' off the rest of the afternoon rolling around between your sheets?"
She laughed and shoved him away from her. "You wish."
"No shit," he laughed back. After a moment, he asked, "So what's this brilliant idea of yours?"
Olivia quirked an eyebrow and bit down on her bottom lip just slightly, dragging her partner by the wrist out of Carl's office.
"You'll see."
TBC
Like what you've read? Why don't you watch or join the community?
{x-posted to eoshippers and olivia_elliot}
CHAPTER 16
FANDOM: Law & Order: SVU
PAIRING: Elliot/Olivia
SPOILERS: Season seven, pre-trilogy
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY:
*****
"Carl!" Olivia waved and smiled, the best way to flag down any of the men employed at the Pink Flamingo, and headed toward him with Elliot in tow.
They had gotten the okay from Cragen to reveal themselves to Carl, under the assumption that Carl would sign an agreement not to tell anyone else. Elliot had been less than enthusiastic about it, Cragen not much moreso, but Olivia made a compelling argument. And so the Captain relented.
Carl smiled at them from behind the bar, where he'd been conversing with Tony, and he leaned across the bar to kiss Olivia's cheek. "Liz, Jack, hey."
"Thought you were shuttin' the place down to let the cops investigate," Elliot commented, to which Carl shrugged.
"That would've been great, yeah. But it woulda cost me more to have it shut down and do a quick, possibly fruitless, investigation, than to keep it open and let the boys in blue do a slow investigation."
"Well..." Olivia glimpsed quick at her partner, then looked to Carl. "What if we told you there was a way to do both? A fast investigation while keeping the club open?"
Carl laughed. "Impossible, but I guess I'll hear ya out. What are you suggesting?"
Elliot asked, "Carl, do you have an office backstage or anyplace we can go that's more private?"
This confused the club owner, and he eyed them both suspiciously, but nodded nonetheless, "Yeah sure," and jerked his head toward backstage. "Follow me."
*****
Beyond the private rooms, locker room and dressing room was a small office where Carl handled most of the business. The interior walls were cement, painted over with white which was peeling off in countless places. Several pictures and news articles highlighting the club were taped to the wall, and a corkboard hung just to the right of Carl's computer monitor. Numerous messages were tacked there -- the time of the month bills were due, a vendor contact list, as well as phone numbers for all the dancers, bartenders and bouncers.
On the board and surrounding wallspace were also several Post-Its, in very girly handwriting. A few were time-off requests from various dancers, but most contained little notes like 'I love you always,' 'Call your mom, she says hi,' 'Meeting with the wedding photographer next Tuesday' and 'Hey baby' all in the same handwriting. Olivia swallowed hard at the realization that those were notes from Marissa.
Carl gave them a brief tour of the room (which looked to be more the size of a janitor closet than an office) before gesturing them to sit down. Olivia took a seat first while Elliot closed the door, before he joined her in the other chair across from Carl's desk.
"So! You two were saying?"
The partners again exchanged a glance. "Yeah." Olivia looked up at him while crossing one leg demurely over the other, resituating her skirt in a polite manner. "Carl, I'm afraid we haven't been quite honest with you."
He frowned. "'Bout what?"
"About... our reason for being here," Elliot joined in slowly. He shook his head. "I'm not interested in buying the club."
"What?" Carl looked more than a little miffed at hearing this.
"And I'm not a dancer," Olivia chimed in as she removed her extensions, figuring it best to get all his anger out of the way up front.
And now he looked furious. "What the hell's goin' on here? Why the hell are you here wasting my time if--"
Elliot and Olivia slowly, in unison, drew out their badges, and watched the slow climb of Carl's eyebrows up his forehead.
"What the f--"
"We're detectives," Olivia intoned lowly, "with the Special Victims Unit. We specialize in sexually-based crimes."
Carl just stared between the two of them, the look on his face one of mingling confusion and anger.
Elliot helped him out. "We've been working the case here at the Pink Flamingo. Undercover."
"And you never told me any of this?"
The partners exchanged a look. Elliot turned back to the club owner, speaking slowly and in a level tone as if he were giving a statement to a jury. "Well, Carl, the idea of this particular undercover mission was not to reveal our identities to anyone." He blinked. "Even you."
"Why?"
Elliot drew in a breath. "Well, because it may interfere with our ability to solve the case."
"So why are you telling me now?"
"Honestly?" Olivia raised her eyebrows. "We've hit a dead end. With the limited resources here at the club that we have, we've been unable to find anything conclusive."
"We were hoping you'd be able to give us inside information that we wouldn't have been privy to otherwise."
"I just... I don't get this. You guys come in here, pretend to be a dancer and an investor, and basically just play around in my club until someone gets hurt? Well guess what? Two people got hurt. And one of 'em I don't get back. You really want me to help you with this?"
Elliot looked to his partner and sighed, getting up from his spot and placing his hands on his hips, pacing the tiny enclosed office. Olivia and Carl both glimpsed quick at him, Carl looking more annoyed than Olivia. To Olivia, this was normal behavior from her frustrated partner. Only Carl wasn't exactly a suspect, so losing it at this point and slamming things around was not an option for Elliot, though it was obvious he wanted to.
Olivia spoke lowly, pleadingly, like she did with the victims. "Carl, listen to me. I know that you're still grieving Marissa. You always will be. And I know you're upset that we couldn't get this solved before things escalated to the point that they did. I know you're upset we couldn't save her. And I'm sorry. I wish we could've saved her too." Her voice hardened, just a little, to get his attention once more -- to hammer in what they needed to do. "But keeping us from doing our jobs isn't going to bring her back, Carl, and you know that. If anything it's only going to make the investigation take longer and another dancer is going to get raped or killed. You're the only one that can help us get this solved."
Elliot watched the slow transformation of Carl's expression throughout Olivia's quiet plea. What started as anger ebbed to irritation, then sadness, slight petulance, and then to understanding. Carl was now nodding along in agreement, and Elliot was impressed. He always was -- his partner had a definite way with people, and not just the victims or the kids. With people. She was warm, vivacious, kind, but with a hard edge that helped her when she needed it.
She'd make a great mother, he thought all of a sudden, and banished the thought just as suddenly. "Will you help us, Carl?" he asked, steering his thoughts back to the case and off of his partner.
Carl looked at them both, back and forth, before he drew in a long breath threw his nose, sighing it out the same way. "Yeah, fine," he relented after a moment. "What do you need?"
Elliot and Olivia shared a look before she turned back to the club owner. "Do you keep records of when your employees clock in or out?"
"Yeah, have to."
"How about schedules? Which dancers are working which nights, headlining, etcetera?"
"Yeah..."
Olivia leaned forward with a sudden idea. "What about music?"
Both Carl and Elliot furrowed their brows. "Why?" Elliot asked of his partner, drawing out the question suspiciously.
Olivia ignored him and looked to Carl. "Carl, do you keep track of what you play each night?"
"You mean like for our headliners?"
"That, and just the stuff you normally play."
Carl shrugged both facially and physically. "I dunno, maybe Tony does. I don't really keep track of that kinda stuff. I'll go ask him."
Elliot blocked the door so the club owner couldn't get past. "Whoa whoa, hang on a second. First we've got some business to take care of."
"What kind of business?"
From the inside pocket of his suit, Elliot produced the agreement they'd brought along. "We need you to sign this." He handed it over.
Carl took it and opened the tri-folded packet of paper, looking it over curiously. "What is it?"
Behind him, Olivia told him, "It's an agreement we need you to sign, saying that you won't tell anybody else that we're working here undercover."
"Nobody?"
"Nobody," Elliot repeated, a bit more sternly. "If someone here at the club is committing these crimes and found out we were here, it would seriously compromise the investigation. Understand?"
Carl nodded, "Yeah, definitely," and reached for a pen, scrawling his name. Looking up at Olivia then, he furrowed his brow. "But then what the hell am I supposed to tell him when he asks why I want the music list?"
Olivia shrugged. "Tell him I'm being a diva and want to add some of my favorite songs to the repertoire." She grinned that pearly grin for good measure.
Which snared Carl. As it did so many others who got in its path. Elliot fought the urge to chuckle aloud as Carl responded, "Yeah alright," and headed out the door.
The partners watched him go before Elliot turned to Olivia, sliding his hands across her hips and pulling her close. "Liv, what's goin' on in that mind of yours?"
"I've got this idea..."
"Yeah?" Elliot's brows lifted slightly, and his grin was devilish as he leaned in to kiss her slowly. "It involve me and you blowin' off the rest of the afternoon rolling around between your sheets?"
She laughed and shoved him away from her. "You wish."
"No shit," he laughed back. After a moment, he asked, "So what's this brilliant idea of yours?"
Olivia quirked an eyebrow and bit down on her bottom lip just slightly, dragging her partner by the wrist out of Carl's office.
"You'll see."
TBC
Like what you've read? Why don't you watch or join the community?
{x-posted to eoshippers and olivia_elliot}