Music To Watch Boys To

Chapter 1: You Belong with Me

Monday, October 13, 2014

11 pm

It’s been three whole months since you stepped into the squad room of Manhattan’s Special Victims Unit, and it's been a wild ride. It's almost unbearable on most days but your team reminded you constantly the reason you did this. Every conviction, every confession, every time the victim spoke up and became a survivor; reinstilled your faith.

You look up from your desk as Sergeant Olivia Benson leaves her office. “Are you two planning on sleeping here tonight?” she jokingly asks as she walks past you and your partner, Det. Nick Amaro. “Go home, paperwork can wait,” she says, “Good night.”

You look over at him and almost get lost in his brown eyes, then compose yourself slightly so you don’t seem too obvious. “C’mon, I’ll drive you home.” he says. This has been happening a lot, not that you were complaining. You weren’t purposely trying to be alone with him but you’d be lying if you said you didn't enjoy it.

Your apartment was ten minutes away, but he insisted. Every time you’d talk about random nothings. Sometimes you’d overshare about yourself, your and family and sometimes he’d talk about his life. Then you’d lay awake cringing about what you’d said. Tonight, you thankfully chatted about music.

You raise the volume and blast Taylor Swift. “I should’ve known you listened to her,” he teases.

“She’s a lyrical genius, what else can I say?” you reply smiling.

“Yeah? Try listening to You Belong with Me on repeat for weeks, my daughter is obsessed.”

You laugh and reply, “A lady of taste.” You ramble on, “So she’s releasing a new album named after her birth year which is also my birth year.”

He pulls up to your building, he smiles and you say thanks. When you unlock your door, you head straight to your bathroom since it's late and you have a shift tomorrow. You strip off some of your clothes on your way to the sink. As you’re brushing your teeth, you pause and stare, you feel so pathetic. He’s my coworker and he’s married, not even legally separated. He’s that nice to everyone, I’m nothing special. Stop thinking about him. You want to scream at yourself. You step into the shower and as you lather yourself with soap, you think about him. The way he smells like a man and it makes you want to drown in his scent. The silver ring he still wears on his finger, how you long for its coldness on your skin. His brown eyes, you got lost in them so often. His lips, everywhere on your body. His smile, you bet he’d smile like that whilst gazing up at you. When you get out of the shower you feel dirtier than when you started out.

Tuesday, October 14, 2014

7:45 am

You’re about to snooze the alarm for what feels like the tenth time, and then you open your eyes and glance at the clock. Shit, I’ve got to get dressed. You shower, moisturize, and put on underwear, pants, and a blouse. You apply lip gloss and some light bronzer, blush, and mascara. You are there to work. You remind yourself. Don't look at him unless you have to.

You thank the universe that New York is so fucking cold because you would’ve been a sweaty mess by the time you reached the precinct.

You chided yourself for being late, already dreading the day and the fact that you’ll have to suffer through the precinct’s generic coffee because you didn’t have time to eat breakfast. You put your bag down and just as you take your coat off, you notice a cup of coffee on your desk from the little cart across the street. “Nick, thank you.” you manage to say before burning your tongue on the bittersweet taste.

After the briefing on the Stevenson case, you and Amaro were sent to interview the victim and her parents now that she was out of surgery. Margaret Stevenson: a seventeen, white female, was kidnapped by an unknown assailant sometime after she left school, on her way to her home, twenty-five minutes away. She was beaten, raped, wrapped in only a bed sheet, and left for dead on the subway, twelve hours after she was reported missing. The rape kit was still being processed. Her parents had insisted she was a straight-A student and didn’t have time for a boyfriend. Her friends claimed that if she was seeing someone, they had no clue who he was.

She was awake now and talking to her dads.

“Hi, Det. Amaro, Special Victims, and this is my partner” Nick gestures to you while mentioning your name, “Can we have a moment with Margaret?”

After the parents leave, you take a seat on the chair next to her bed while Nick stands. “Margaret, can you tell me the last thing you remember?” you ask. She hesitates.

Nick notices and says, “Margaret, do you know the person who did this?”

On the verge of tears, she replies, “I don’t want to get into any trouble.”

You gently touch her hand, “Honey, you did nothing wrong. We just wanna catch the person who hurt you.”

She starts crying, “It's the college scout, Dean Michaelis, I’m sorry I didn’t want to ruin my chances of a scholarship.”

“Do you think he’s done this before?” you query as you drive back to the precinct.

“I think so, maybe we’ll find his M.O. in ViCAP. I think he’s escalating.” When you get back to the precinct, you let Liv know everything the vic told you, along with your theory.

“He’s definitely escalating.” she says when similar cases were found, “Do you think the school knows?”

You add, “Possibly, was there any DNA found?”

Liv replies, “Only Los Angelos, Georgia, and Ohio haven’t even tested the rape kits.”

“The rape kit came back with DNA from under her fingernails and semen, all from the same guy.” Odafin ‘Fin’ Tutuola tells us as he puts the phone down.

“I’ll call Barba for a warrant for DNA, Fin and Rollins, go pick this bastard up.” Olivia commands as she dials the office phone number for the Assistant District Attorney, Rafael Barba.

Music To Watch Boys To

Chapter 5: Salvatore

Monday, November 10, 2014

7 am

You’re completely soaked, lying on the hood of his car. He’s hovering over you, his lips on yours. His tie in one of your hands, you want him as close as possible. The other hand is in his hair. He bites your lower lip and you moan. His left hand is under your dress, your only source of warmth as it rains. His other hand grips your waist. His lips move to your neck, then your breast. He stops slightly, out of breath. He holds your face in his right hand and whispers, “Me haces arder de deseo cariño.”

You jolt awake as the alarm goes off. Yet another dream about how differently that night could’ve ended. You remove Chase’s arm from your stomach. He’s so fucking clingy. Why is he here every day? His place is better than this shoebox. I totally get why couples slept in different bedrooms in the past. You shower and get dressed. Chase has been driving you to and from work. He insisted, “I never get to see you otherwise.” Truthfully, it made avoiding Nick and an awkward conversation easier.

Chase pulls up to the precinct just as Nick crosses the street with two cups in a coffee holder. He smiles at you and says good morning, then his eyes notice Chase. You both get out of the car. “Hey, man. I’m Chase, the boyfriend. You must be one of her coworkers.” Wait, did we discuss labels? You might as well go with it.

“Nick Amaro, her partner. Nice to finally meet you.”

You gape at your watch and loudly say, “Would you look at the time? We’ve got to get in there. I’ll see you later.” Unfortunately, you decide to point a finger gun at your boyfriend while saying this.

In the elevator, Nick turns to you and remarks, “Jace seems like a great guy. I don’t know if he’s really your type though.”

His name is Chase and Nick knows that. You don’t dignify whatever this was with a response, you just smile.

Olivia tells the squad there was an anonymous report about domestic abuse in the Upper East Side. “Fin and Rollins, I want you to check it out. Talk to the couple separately, canvass the neighbourhood.” She then turns to you and Nick, “You’re testifying against Michaelis tomorrow. Barba wants to prep you two in court today.”

You return to the squad room after being grilled in court and watching Nick suffer through the same, for almost two hours. Liv, Fin, and Amanda are in Liv’s office discussing something when you and Nick walk in. “Did you have fun?” Amanda teases.

“So much fun, I didn’t want it to end.” You reply.

Fin fills in the blanks, “We got nowhere with the Hastings. Then, they practically kicked us out. They said they’re busy planning a big charity ball and don’t have time for a ‘witch hunt’.”

“We can try to infiltrate their social circle, maybe find out if they know anything.” Rollins suggests.

“These people don’t turn on each other easily. And even if we could pull any gossip out of them, how do we get near without raising alarms?” You add.

“Why don’t we ask your boyfriend?” Nick interjects while staring at you.

You furrow your brows, “Excuse me?”

“He has connections to these people, right? He could get us invites.”

“Through his parents, maybe.”

“Then it wouldn’t hurt to try.” Liv declares. Damn you Amaro.

Everyone returned to their desks after the discussion was over. You ended your call with Chase, “He’s going to talk to his parents and he’ll let me know.”

“Rollins and Fin can’t go undercover to the ball because they’d get recognized. That leaves you and me.” Nick observes. “Do you think his parents would recognize you?”

“I’ve never met them.”

“Really? Huh.” He puts his hand under his chin.

“What?”

“It's just, you’ve known him for a long time.”

“Yeah, but we just started dating.”

“I’m just saying if I liked a girl, I’d want my mother to meet her.”

You tease, “So do you take Cesaria to meet all your dates?”

“You’re not funny.”

You sigh and place a hand over your heart, “You wound me, Nick.”

Saturday, November 15, 2014

9 pm

You and Nick sit in the backseat, watching as guests arrive in their town cars and rented limousines. He’s wearing a three-piece black tuxedo, with a burgundy bow tie. His bow tie matched the colour of your dress, a floor-length, sleeveless dress with a sweetheart neckline.

He pulls out a $1 ring and takes your left hand, “Will you be my fake wife?”

You wipe away an imaginary tear, “I thought you’d never ask.”

While Nick gets you a drink, you are approached by two middle-aged women. “We haven’t seen you here before.” They observe.

“We’re new to Manhattan, just moved from Miami.”

“We?”

You show them your ring briefly, “My fiance and I.”

Before you can watch around for Nick you feel a hand on your lower back, and he whispers in your ears, “Caio, amore.” Oh great, he remembers that I said that. “Here’s your drink babe.”

You introduce him to the women while his hand stays on your back. Your hand hugs his bicep. They leave to continue socializing and you whisper, “We should try to blend in.”

“Do you want to slow dance?” He asks. “So we don’t draw attention to ourselves.”

You feel curious eyes on you as Nick slowly dances you around the room.

He takes your right hand from his shoulder and holds it in his. He asks, “Are you cold?”

“I still haven’t returned your coat.” You realize.

“I know.” He says as he takes off his tuxedo jacket and helps you into it.

“Why didn’t you ask?”

“I have others. Besides, you look better in my clothes than I do.”

You wish he wouldn’t utter things like that. It makes you stupid and hopeful. You pretend to fix his hair, he leans down to kiss you and you let him. A newly engaged couple kissing, no one is going to suspect anything. We’re just kissing to protect our cover. There is nothing unprofessional about this situation at all.

In your peripheral vision, you notice two women who interacted with everyone including the Hastings, head to the bathroom. “I bet those two chatty-cathys know something juicy that we can probably use.”

“What’s your plan? Follow them to the bathroom and hope for the best?” Nick asks.

“Exactly.” You deadpan, as you take his hand and try to subtly follow. Please don’t get caught.