Detectives Elliot Stabler and partner, Olivia Benson, detectives for Manhattan’s Special Victim’s Unit, were sitting in their car, winding up a failed surveillance on a suspected human trafficking house. They’d been sitting in their car observing the suspected house for several hours but nothing was happening. A thoroughly bored Stabler shifted his eyes elsewhere and noticed the huge congregation of people.

“I wonder what’s going on over there?” Stabler nudged his partner as he pointed out the fast growing horde down the street from their position.

A half-bored Benson’s gaze followed her partner’s outstretched finger and immediately spotted the fast growing line of people, most of who appeared to be in their late teens and 20s.

“I heard that folk rock sensation Eldon Wilde is in town tonight, so they must be fans lining up and waiting for the concert doors to open.” Benson replied.

Stabler absently nodded, his eyes and mind fixed on the growing horde of young people, who though generally orderly, appeared to be having a great time horsing around. There was something about them that irked him. His eyes twitched and he suddenly felt a surge of unbridled irritation race through his body. He didn’t know where it came from, it just happened, like it usually did.

“My kids love him, my wife admits she does too, but I’ve never understood what everybody sees in him. To me he represents everything that’s wrong with the younger generation. He may be a pretty good musician but I don’t like his lyrics much. They seem to be all wrong and encouraging young people to get out and cause havoc,” the detective grumbled. His eyes kept twitching and he felt the irritation continuing to grow.

Benson turned to her partner. They’d been paired up for so long she could read him like a book and, immediately sensed he was in one of his uglier moods. “Can’t you relax Elliot? They’re just kids having a good time, and despite their antics, they seem pretty well behaved to me.

Stabler, with his rapidly twitching eyes still fastened on the crowd of young people, felt his irritation getting closer to the breaking point. He only grumbled in reply.

“You think so? Take a look at that, will you? He pointed a finger, made shaky and unsteady by his growing anger, at a couple about halfway down the rapidly growing line up.

Elliot was a good detective and an excellent partner but was well known throughout the department for his explosive temper. Benson sensed he was about to erupt like an angry volcano, and moved to diffuse him, or get him the hell out of the area before he lost control.

“Since tonight’s operation appears to be a bust, why don’t we call it a night and try again tomorrow night? She urged Stabler.

“Just look, Olivia and see if you’re seeing what I’m seeing?” Stabler demanded.

Benson, trying to keep her partner calm, obediently followed Stabler’s shaky finger and spotted what she thought, had gotten her partner so agitated. Unconcerned she watched the rambunctious antics of a tall guy with a trim, athletic body and a shorter, petit girl in tight, denim shorts. Her blond hair was tied in a ponytail, and the bottom of her top was tied in a knot, displaying her flat, smooth tummy.

The crowd cheered and clapped as the male took the girl in his arms and flung her around in a wide circle above her head. When he put her back on her feet, he kissed her, making the crowd cheer louder.

Benson noted his partner was now seething with anger. Alarmed, she cautioned him. “Elliot, can you just leave it alone? Monitoring a bunch of kids waiting to get into a concert is not our job. Besides, it looks to me like they’re just having fun.”

‘Not at that age,” Stabler exclaimed as he stared hard at the youthful looking blonde in the pony tail. “How old do you think she is? I’d say at least half the age of the guy handling her as if she was a child. Which means she’s definitely a minor, and would you look at the way the pervert is slobbering all over her? We got a put a stop to this right now.”

“Elliot, calm down. Let’s stop and think this through before we do anything rash,” Olivia cautioned.

“No time. I’ll take the pervert and you grab the girl. Get her out of harm’s and we’ll see about returning to her parents where she should be, instead of being taking advantage of by some horny guy twice her age.”

“Elliot, please...” But Benson was too late. Stabler had already pushed opened the car door and was dashing across the street, his eyes fixed on the obvious pervert and the much too-young girl.

“God damn it,” Elliot,” Benson yelled in frustration and flung the passenger door open. As she took off after her partner at a full run, she stole another glance at the girl, and figured maybe her partner was right. She had to admit it. The girl did look awfully young.

“What’s up with those two? They seeing something we’re missing? Detective Tutuola asked as he watched the detectives race across the street right in front of his car.

“Don’t know,” replied Detective Amanda Rollins.

They both watched in disbelief as Benson and Stabler charged without warning into the crowd of unsuspecting people waiting to get into the concert in the warm summer evening.

Stabler barely slowed down. His eyes never left his target as he roughly pushed aside the people clogging up his way. He made a frantic grab for the pervert while Benson lunged for the girl, intending to tear her out of her assailant’s grasp and hurry her to safety. However, they hadn’t intended on the fierce reaction from the crowd surrounding the couple.

“Help, stop her, somebody’s trying to kidnap Christie,” somebody yelled out a warning. Immediately Benson was swarmed by several girls and guys who pulled her away from the girl and pushed her to the ground. Just as Stabler seized the pervert and yanked him around, he was set upon by other factions of the crowd.

As they tried to subdue the big, out of control detective and keep him away from their friend, someone began yelling. “Hurry, call the cops. We’ll hold them so they can’t escape.”

“Hold on, we are the police,” Tutolola yelled as he waved his badge and waded headlong into the melee, throwing people aside in an attempt to reach Stabler who was still valiantly battling several guys.

“Police, let me through,” Rollins loudly demanded as she wrestled with several people who were preventing her from rescuing Benson.

“What’s going on? Why did that woman try to grab me,” Christie Dowling demanded as Rollins put her in the back of a squad car. The mini riot was over. Benson and Stabler had been finally freed from the enraged crowd and hustled away in one of several squad cars that rushed to their rescue.

“Because she thought you were under age and being molested by that guy,” Rollins, who was sitting in the front seat of the squad car, turned her head to explain to the girl. She smiled reassuringly. “You’re safe now. Just tell me where your parents live or how I can contact them and they can meet you at the police station and take you home, okay?”

“What the hell are you talking about? Christie angrily demanded. “I was doing just fine until that crazy woman attacked me and pulled me away from my husband. What’s with her and the guy that attacked my husband, anyway? They some kind of nut cases or something?”

As Rollins craned her neck to get a closer look at the girl in the back seat, a sinking feeling formed deep in the pit of her stomach. One look at the girl confirmed her worst suspicion. With her petit body and youthful looks, she definitely appeared young, but not even close to being a minor.

What the hell had Stabler and Benson gotten themselves into? Rollins debated what to do next. Since there must have been a good reason why the detectives charged so recklessly into the crowd, she decided to be prudent and take the girl downtown for further questioning. Who knows, perhaps Benson and Stabler knew something about her that she didn’t?

“Since the two people you and your friends fought with are police officers, we have to take you downtown and get this straightened out,” Rollins announced.

“What? No damn way. I’m not going anywhere with you, let me out,” Christie screamed as she fumbled for the door handles only to discover they didn’t exist in the back seats of police cars.

“Calm down. Just come to the police station and let us get this straightened out,” Rollins insisted.

“Why? We didn’t do anything. Peter and I were just waiting in line for the concert when those two nut cases come out of nowhere and attacked us. Why would they do that, eh?”

Rollins craned her neck and eyed the young woman. “Because they thought you were a minor and that the guy was molesting you.”

Christie stared at the detective, dumfounded. “Take a look at me,” she demanded. “I know I may not look my age, but if those detectives think I’m a minor, they need eye glasses, now let me go.”

As Christie turned to watch the last police car pull away with their back seats full of rioters, she turned back to Rollins and demanded. “Where is my husband? Where have they taken him? You realise you’ve completely ruined our second wedding anniversary night?

Rollins shrugged. “Like I said, let’s go downtown so we can get to the bottom of this. You do realize assaulting a policeman and causing a riot is a serious offense?

“But it wasn’t our fault. They attacked us first,” Christie screamed.

Rollins accepted the purse the outraged young lady thrust at her, and pulled out a wallet.

“See, that’s my Id. There’s no bloody way I’m a minor. Look at my driver’s licence. It proves I’m 22, and my employee Id says I work as a cost accountant for Wallace Hayes.”

As Rollins carefully scrutinized the documents, she didn’t like the way things were going. Benson and Stabler better have a damn good reason for what they did, she mumbled.

Tutuola yanked the driver’s door opened, glanced at the sullen girl in the back seat, and asked. “Find out anything about her yet?”

Rollins nodded and handed him the ID. “I don’t know what Benson and Stabler were up to but according to these, she’s definitely not a minor.”

The detective briefly studied the plastic encased documents and turned to stare suspiciously at the girl. “Where did you get this from? They sure look genuine. Who did you steal them from?”

“That’s because they are real and I didn’t steal them from anybody,” an outraged Christie snarled at him.

“Well, just to make sure they are real and you aren’t pulling a fast one on us, we’re taking you downtown. After all, assaulting a police officer, starting a riot, and carrying phoney Id are serious offenses,” Tutuola replied as he pulled away from the curb.

“So you actually think that I did those things, that’s it’s somehow my fault or my husband’s fault, because we refused to go with those nut cases?” Christie demanded.

“Well, since you are your friends did cause a riot, we’re taking you downtown and once we got it figured out, all of you may serious charges,” Rollins replied.

“Fine, while you’re figuring out what to charge us with, I’m going to call my mother. She might be able to help,” an exasperated Christie announced.

Rollins turned to watch her pull a phone out of her purse and remarked. “What good is your mother going to do? I’m sure we can figure this out all by ourselves.

“Because my mother is a lawyer, the best one I know. Her name is Amanda Diaz and she’s got full partnership in a huge firm in the city, so if there’s anybody that can help remedy this situation it’s her.”

Rollins flinched at the familiar name. Amanda Diaz and her firm were not only well-known throughout the city, they were even better known throughout the police force. Their top notch team of legal beagles regularly defended suspects in an out of the courtroom. She hated the idea of getting that law firm involved into what was already beginning to look like a colossal mistake.

Rollins listened to the one sided conversation as Christie animatedly explained her side of the riot to her mother. She had to admit the girl definitely had a good argument because when it came down to the straight facts, Benson and Stabler, caused their own misfortune by rushing indiscriminately into the crowd without even bothering to show their badges.

Upon their arrival at the police station, Rollins opened the rear door of their car and allowed a steaming mad Christie to get out. She and Totuola silently escorted her into the police station and past the fellow concert goers who had earlier come to her rescue. Although they sat in stinky jail cells, they were in a jovial mood and yelled boisterous words of encouragement to her.

Christie waved and smiled in reply. “Don’t worry about anything. My mother’s a lawyer. I called her and she’s on her way here. She’ll get you all of this place.”

“Okay, so where’s Peter,” Christie angrily demanded after the detectives ushered into an interview room and told her they were going to check to make sure her Id was valid.

“Relax, right now he’s in another room being interviewed,” Rollins informed her. “You can’t speak to one another until we’re finished talking to you.”

“Why not? He’s my husband and we’ve done nothing wrong. I already told you it was those stupid detectives fault. Do they actually work here or did they escape from a mental hospital?

Rollins shrugged. “That kind of attitude won’t get you anywhere. Besides, the detectives have to find out about your real relationship with him.”

Christie jumped up and screamed in the Rollin’s face as the implications of her words hit her.

“So you actually think Peter is some kind of pervert? If you hurt him, or touch a single hair on his head I’ll sue your asses off.” She warned.

After Rollins closed the door, she turned to her partner. “I’d say that girl is a little hot under the collar.”

“Can’t be helped, although her Id looks genuine, we have to make sure, and then get to the bottom of this, Tutuola replied.”

Rollins eyed him. “This sure look like one huge mistake to me, so we’d better hope Benson and Stabler have a good reason for trying to take on a whole crowd of people, especially since Amanda Diaz is on her way down here.”

Totuola nodded. “I hear Elliot is back and he’s none the worse for wear, except for a few bruises and a ruined suit. I’ll go talk to him and get his side of the story.”

“It better be a good one, because this is beginning to stink to high heaven and it keeps getting worse by the moment,” Rollins warned as she sat down at her desk.

Detective Totuola had only taken a few steps before the dire implications of Elliot returning to the office hit him like a ton of bricks. Stabler’s infamous temper was often the talk of the office.

“Oh, damn it, don’t tell me he’s been left alone with that suspected pedophile who is most likely only being held in an interrogation room due to a huge misunderstanding,” Tootoola cursed. He rushed down the hallway, stopping only long enough to check to see if an interview room was in use. All were empty except for the last one on the right.

Totuola had found Stabler. The detective, with a couple of bruises on his face and a new shirt, was already hard at work. His shirt sleeves were rolled up and his tie was askew as he aggressively confronted Peter Dowling who was handcuffed to a table. Spittle flew from the detective’s face when he yelled into his suspect’s face. Occasionally he would pound the table with a fist as he threw questions at the young man.

“Come on, admit it. You like little girls, don’t you?” Stabler yelled directly into his suspect’s face. He stopped his relentless attack on his helpless victim and turned his head at the sound of Tutuloa entering the room.

“You’re just in time. I think he’s about to crack and confess to being a pedophile, aren’t you?” Elliot turned and shot the question at the young man and emphasized it by pounding his fist on the table.

“No sir, I’ve already told you. “I’m not like that. Christie and I have been married for two years, and the only little girl I like is our daughter. She’s almost one year old and we were celebrating our second anniversary tonight.” Dowling, although thoroughly intimidated by the detective’s aggressive manner, steadfastly struck to his story because he knew it was true.

“Damn you, you little pervert. Why don’t you just admit you’re a pedophile?” Elliot slammed the table, his face only inches from his suspect’s.

“Because it’s not true, as a matter of face, since Christie is almost a year older than me, you might say I like older woman. Now, since this is gone on long enough and since you refuse to believe anything I say, I’m not saying another word until my mother in law gets here. She’s a damn good lawyer and I’m sure Christie has already called her. Her name is Amanda Diaz.

Stabler went berserk at the statement and the smug look on his suspect’s face. He suddenly felt like he was being mocked. He shook off Tutuola’s desperate attempts to pull him away from Dowling, and totally ignored his pleas to take it easy. Enraged, he swung his fist at the helpless young man, catching him full in the face and knocking him backwards right out of his chair. Since Dowling’s wrist was cuffed to the table, it had nowhere to go, except to try and follow his body which was suddenly, violently catapulted halfway across the room. He emitted a loud, high scream of pain when the bones broke and then went silent. The force of the unsuspecting fist to his face plus the pain of the broken wrist had rendered him unconscious.

Tutuola was momentarily stunned by Stabler’s unwarranted attack on the helpless young man, but then gathered his wits about him. He seized the detective’s arms and forcefully pushed him out of the room.

Elliot appeared totally unconcerned about the unconscious Dowling. “Jesus Christ, my hand,” he moaned as he cradled his bruised fist.

“Forget about your God damn hand. Do you realize what you’ve just done? You nailed that guy when he was cuffed to the table. Man, you’re in deep shit,” Tutuola hissed in anger.

“Call an ambulance, right now,” he ordered a young constable whose disbelieving eyes were shifting from Stabler to the motionless form on the floor.