"Captain, please! You've seen my work in other cases; you know that I can do this!" Jennifer Strait begged, bracing her hands on the police chief's desk. "With Novak leaving, you need me to take her place, don't deny it."

"Miss Strait, you do realize that Diane Novak is leaving for her own safety, rather than personal desire, am I correct?" Cragen assured, returning to a stack of papers to his right.

"I know you recall my history in law enforcement, sir."

"Then why are you begging me to be our new attorney? Stabler's been looking for a new partner, Miss Strait; maybe you're the one that'll do him justice." Realizing what he'd said, he added, "No pun intended."

"Sir, you are infuriating." Jennifer spun on her heel and out of the Precinct, fuming.


On her way to the car, she nearly ran into the one and only Eliot Stabler.

"Jenny, what's new?" he asked, catching her as she almost fell onto the hard pavement.

"Oh, like you don't know, Eliot," she snapped, regaining control of her legs and sprinting the rest of the way to her car.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I don't," he called after her convertible.

I find it funny that we do the real work and attorneys get paid more than we do … he thought, looking back at his bike. This is pathetic. Eliot shook his head and stuffed his hands in his pockets, heading into the precinct.

"Oh, Eliot, you probably saw her on your way in, but Jennifer Strait just tried to apply as our new attorney," were the words that greeted Eliot's ears as he walked through the door. He looked at his chief in confusion, mixed with anxiety. Whoops ...

"And how does this affect me, sir?" he asked, perching himself on the corner of his desk. "Does she have the job?"

"No. I wouldn't let her." At Eliot's shock, Cragen continued, "She's a young girl with a vast future, Stabler; if I let her take on the role of NYPD Attorney ... God, man, her future would be gone."

"What do you mean?"

Dropping his voice so low even Eliot, who was standing right next to him, could barely hear him, he said, "Remember Alex? And now Novak? Eliot, don't tell me you don't believe in omens. You're a good Catholic man and I know that you know what's going on here."

"Sir, excuse my bluntness when I say this, but have you gone mad?" Eliot paused, thinking. This position can't be 'cursed.' This isn't Harry Potter, nor is it a matter of wizardry ... there's evil people out there that want revenge on whoever locked their cohort, or cohorts, up ... how could someone possibly stay here for more than ten years with those circumstances anyway? Seemingly enough, Eliot voiced his thoughts.

"I'm not sure either, Stabler, but this girl, for some reason, believes she could quite possibly work out."

"Well, what did you tell her?" the detective asked, waving to Doctor Huang as he entered the building and turned left to go to the Lab. Cragen regaled Eliot with the conversation with Jennifer Strait, leaving out the part about her being his new partner.

"And?" Eliot prompted. "What happened then? What did she say?"

"She said that I 'know of her successful past in law enforcement ...'" Eliot nodded, and Cragen went on, "... so I suggested she apply to be your new partner instead. Hey, Charlie, get me a cup of coffee, would you?" Noting the now-irate man in front of him, he reconsidered, "Actually, on second thought, I'll come with you."

"Oh no, you won't. I have some things to say to you now that we're on the straight and narrow."

"Careful, Eliot. I am your Captain."

"Captain or not, I do have a say in who my new partner is."

"Yeah, and with her being a beautiful young woman, I think you'd agree that-"

"No, no, no, no. I made that mistake once. I got too close to her and forgot that, as a partner, we work together to put some scumbag behind bars, sir. To save a kid, or give parents reprieve from worrying where their kids are. I tried to save her far too many times and she did the same for me, and we both let the guy slip away. It wouldn't be fair to put Jenny through that."

"You won't think that way when you talk to her. She's probably the most in-tune girl out there. She could do this job, Eliot. She could save the kid, keep you alive, and incapacitate the guy badly enough that he's alive when arrested, but unable to hurt anyone else while you wait for back-up. All at the same time."

"Yeah?" Cragen nodded. "And how do you know that?"

"I was her Captain once."


"Can you believe it?" Jenny asked her mom. She had called her first thing, furious.

"Honey, you have to admit, it's a good job, and well paying."

"I like being a lawyer. You remember why I became a lawyer, don't you? Yeah, that's right, I almost got blown up in my own home after being stalked for two months. You're right; why wouldn't I want to go back to that?"

"Your sarcasm is both unwelcome and unnecessary, Jennifer," her mother scolded wearily. "I understand your fear of that happening again, but you know Detective Stabler, and he would prevent that at all costs."

"I know you think that's helping, mom, but you do realize that he's probably the hottest guy I've seen since college? I don't want that to get in the way of my job."

"Go in first thing tomorrow and tell Cragen you'll take the offer. That you've thought about it and you think it would be a good transition. If I know that Captain, whom I do from when you were under his orders, he'll welcome you with open arms."

"But …"

"Jenny, dear, it'll all work out for the best. Maybe you're just not supposed to be a lawyer right now." After a short pause, she continued softly, "Your father would want you to take this offer. He wants you to live in the moment, and help others. Being a lawyer does that, I know, but only through speaking and persuasion. Use your body to find things out. And use your head."

"Mom, I-"

"Jenny, just do what your mother asks. Please? You're thirty-eight years old; start doing what you're really cut out to do." They said their goodbyes and hung up the phone, leaving Jennifer to think things through.


"Wait, I just don't understand it!" Eliot declared, resting his elbows on his desk and hanging his head.

"Eliot, let me tell you a story." The Captain crossed his legs and swung them up onto his own desk, leaning back in his chair. "When Jennifer was twenty-four years old, she came to me asking for work in the investigation field. I hired her, and for two years, her work went untarnished. Until, of course, her third year here at the Precinct.

"There were two cases in session at that time; one was murder, and the other was rape. Several committed by the same two people. Remember, it was like a serial killer and a sex offender were having a whole big, reminiscent party that year?" Eliot nodded, prompting the Captain to continue. "I assigned the murder case to Jennifer, because she seemed like a strong woman who could take just about anything.

"It took about a month; it wasn't Jennifer's fault, the evidence merely just wasn't there. This didn't have anything to do with you and Olivia; you were working on the rape case.

"About two weeks into the investigation, however, we got a lead that planted in two of our cars were bombs. Supposedly, they would explode at the highest point of speed, right before the driver would press the brake …" The Captain trailed off and Eliot looked at him, his jaw slack.

"And Jennifer picked that lucky vehicle out of the other three?" he asked.

"Yes, Eliot. She smelled the gasoline and tried to open the windows, but the power lines had deteriorated from the flow of gas. The doors wouldn't unlock because they, too, had been cut off from power. She had no way out of the car." By this point, Eliot was shocked the girl was even alive.

"So what happened?" he inquired, waving guiltily to Olivia, who was now seated on the opposite side of the office. She stared back. "The car exploded, I'm assuming?"

"Yep, but Jennifer was smart, and when she heard the KABOOM!, she covered her eyes with one arm, and the back of her head with the other, and launched herself in a rolling tumble out of the car. She escaped with mere burns and scrapes, compared to death."

Eliot blinked.

"And I take it she doesn't want to go back to that?"

"She was amazing, Eliot. Nothing got by her. Nothing. She was one of our best. We need her, you need her."

"I don't need her. If she doesn't want to, she shouldn't have to. She likes being a lawyer; let her take over for Novak."

"Do you know why Novak's leaving?" Eliot shook his head. "There's a price on her head, as the British would say. She's in the same boat as Alex."


The next morning, Jennifer dressed and headed on her way to the Precinct to tell the Captain her decision, though begrudgingly.

"Okay, so you changed your mind?" he asked.

"Yes, sir. I was a detective first and a detective, I suppose, I will stay …"

"Okay. Well, then, I'll introduce you to your new partner, Miss Strait." He gestured to someone behind her and she turned to find herself face to face with Eliot Stabler. He waved and smiled kindly before taking a seat next to her.

"You have got to be kidding me. I would have at least figured you'd pair me up with Benson …" she snapped, sending a glare in Eliot's way. "You can't be serious about this!"

"Ah, but Jenny, I am. I think he'll bring out the best in you, and cause you to work even better than you normally do."

"Sir, I-"

"Jennifer," he stated warningly, staring into her eyes. "Eliot Stabler is your new partner, fair and simple. Good luck, and good day, Miss Strait."

"Fine," Jennifer conceded, rolling her eyes. Eliot stood and followed her to his desk. "Where's my desk?"

"We share a desk."

"This is ridiculous …"

"I'm completely serious. Partners share desks, Jenny."

"Don't call me Jenny."

"Okay … Strait?"

"Detective Strait, thank you very much."

"Ahh; partners share desks, Detective Strait." Jennifer sniffed, but nodded politely all the same.

"Fine then." She plopped down into a seat and looked Eliot up and down. "We need to get to know each other."

"What do you need to know?"

"Quirks, ticks, likes, dislikes, all that stuff."

"I can't stand liars, cheaters, or scumbags who think they can get out of a situation by killing or raping a minor."

"Nor can I, but I dislike arrogant, cocky bastards more."

"And I suppose you mean me in that statement," Eliot stated softly, gazing at her inquisitively. After a long pause, during which Jennifer blushed and squirmed in discomfort, Eliot continued quietly, "Why do you hate me? What did I ever do to you?"

Jennifer had to think. He had always tended to look past her at the Precinct. Given, he had generally been attempting to solve a big case, but a nice smile would have always been appreciated. She didn't hate him. She merely wanted to set the record straight.

"I don't hate you."

"If this is how you show liking someone, I'd hate to see what disliking them would be …"

"Look, I'm sorry for treating you poorly or whatever I've done, but it's not what you think. Besides, why be friends with me when you've got a family back home?"

"Excuse me?"

"I know you're married. You have kids, too. How're they doing?" she snapped.

"They're fine. And what does me being married have to do with us being friends?"

"Ugh. Never mind, Stabler. I've got to go."

"You're not going anywhere, neither of you are," Cragen stated from the counter.

Jennifer jumped around. "What? Why?" she asked.

"We just got a call. There's another rape. Only this time, we can't talk to the girl."

"Why not?"

"No one can seem to find her."


Author's Note: I'm Kat. I love to write. That's enough about me; we need to have a serious discussion about the story. As it states so clearly in the summary at the top of this page, this story contains vulgar language use, sexual references, derogatory statements against races and the female gender, gore, violence, and scenes of a sexual nature. I urge you; turn back now if you cannot handle these elements. If you think you will be able to undergo the literary, emotional influence this story may or may not have on you, it would please me to think you'd stick around at least for the finale.

As you can tell so far, I am a lover of spelling, grammar, literary context, and vocabulary. I have come to realize, through reading several other Fan Fictions, that apparently, Eliot is coincidentally spelled Elliot. As DishNetwork expresses only surnames in their episode summaries, I was not aware of this, and was quite surprised upon discovery. You needn't correct me countless times for the obvious misspelling, though in all technicalities, there are various spellings of the name 'Eliot,' but for the sake of the story and consistency, the spelling shall remain the same. I am sorry for any frustration or irritation that may have developed due to my lack of knowledge, however, and beg my readers' forgiveness.

I have also realized that almost every Fan Fiction author of Law and Order: Special Victims' Unit I have had the pleasure of reading the works of so far is quite the Olivia/Eliot fan. Surprisingly enough, I disagree with them. Eliot, in my opinion, works better as a lone wolf. I am hoping, though, that you will take a risk and open your hearts to Eliot/Jennifer. I am sure I can please some of you with my relationship. Oh, and for those of you expecting smut … this is a story of the following genres: Action, Suspense, Mystery, and slight Romance. This story is not a P-w-P, and will never be considered a P-w-P. The only way my readers will read smut in this story is when a witness is stating what he or she saw, what the victim says the perpetrator did to them, or what the perpetrator brags about. And that isn't smut, it's more or less statements made under oath. And that would be much less than pleasurable.

This story is an attempt to make something as close as possible to the series. It will be gorey, it will be chilling. Humour will be of the driest of natures; it will be evident, and no one will laugh until they have a moment of peace. And that moment of peace will be interrupted promptly by another problem quickly arising.

For the record, I did not create Jennifer Strait. Jennifer Strait created Jennifer Strait. I was staring at my notebook before I started writing this Fan Fiction, and it was beckoning for me to open it and begin something spectacular. I'm not saying this is spectacular, but what I wrote was. I put the pen in my hand and set the tip onto the paper's surface, and within minutes, Jennifer Strait's biography had flowed through the ball-point and onto the page in a flow of ink. (She is also not real, and not under ownership of anyone but myself.) My characters are not created by me; they create themselves through me, through my imagination, and through my pen. The same goes for my stories, in a sense. They are not created by me. They are not written by me. They are written by the stories' characters; the plot is formed through chain-reactions of the characters. If Eliot walks in, Jennifer is obviously going to greet him. However she greets him affects how he reacts to her. However he acts, she will react. For every action, there is a reaction. And that is how a story is born.

Thank you for reading, and I hope you will continue until the end.
Kat