48h

Once again: I don't own anything related to this great show LO:SVU. I just like to mess with the wonderful characters Mr. Wolf has created. Thanks for all the Law and Orders.

A/N: I'm struggling with The Locust, my CI/SVU x-over (or better with Bobby… um, his character…). While I was working on it this one popped up, maybe because Bobby and Elliot appear to be so different. It's short and I don't know exactly where this may be going so your opinions are highly appreciated. RR

1

Seconds… just a few damned seconds!

xxx

He awoke to a wonderful sunny morning. It would be a great Sunday together with Kathy and the kids, including a trip to the Bronx zoo and a barbecue.

Elliot Stabler did not waste a single thought on next Monday and work while he was singing under the shower. He shaved and brushed his teeth, then dressed in jeans and a shirt, without tie. He whistled a simple melody when he came down the stairs and never noticed something strange.

"Kathy, honey, have you seen…?" he began to ask as he turned into the kitchen for breakfast.

She should not find out what he was looking for.

He saw her the moment he entered the room and knew in the same instant that something was terribly wrong. He just had no time to do anything, to ask something, to escape and least of all fight off what was threatening him and his family.

Because in the same second that he saw his wife, someone grabbed his neck from behind, pressing the muzzle of a gun to his head. He froze, his stare locked with Kathy's.

The next second he was pushed to the ground. Neither the hand nor the muzzle left as he hit the floor, landing on his front. More hands grabbed his wrists, jerking the arms behind his back and binding him with rope. Also his ankles were tied.

He was too terrified to even scream. Whatever he might have voiced, it caught in his throat never to come out. His breath was caught, too. It exploded when he tried to breathe again.

Lying on his stomach he could not see Kathy or anyone else, just the stove, the legs of some chairs and the floor.

All he felt were the strange hands on arms and legs, holding him down, the rope and the cold of the tiles. Above all he felt the gun still pressed to his head.

His eyes were wide with shock and he still could hardly breathe.

"Upstairs," someone growled.

Dark brown shoes, together with Kathy's slippers, passed his field of vision as someone dragged her out of the kitchen. He gasped when they left. Still he was trying to just breathe when he heard them walk up the stairs.

Strong hands rolled him on his back. Above him were bright morning light and four strange men in black clothes with black masks. They took hold of his limbs and lifted him from the ground to carry him into the living room.

Elliot heard the scratching sound of a chair pulled into position. He was lifted even higher. Then they lowered him over the chair, someone forcing his arms back as they sat him down, so that his tied up hands came to rest behind the back rest.

One of the men wound another rope around his ankles to tie his feet to the legs of the chair. The same rope was threaded between the legs to the back and tied to his hands.

He groaned when it was pulled tight.

Only now all the hands let go off him.

Elliot could not see anyone. They all were behind him and he could feel their piercing stares in his back. He closed his eyes. The darkness did nothing to comfort him. It was even worse. He scanned the room with darting eyes, not daring to turn his head. Slowly his breathing eased. Everything was silent. No one spoke. Nothing was to be heard from upstairs either.

Finally one of the men circled the chair and stopped right in front of him. For long minutes he just watched the bound man.

When the guy bowed forward Elliot's look fell on the mirrored glasses that hid the man's eyes. He could see his own features, contorted with fear, and that scared him even more as well as it made him angry.

He stared at the black face with this mixture of fear and rage.

The man laughed.

"Hi, Detective Stabler," he purred.