Potential; SVU, Darker Reflections; PG13

[morgynleri]

Title: Potential
Co-Author: auberus
Fandom: Law & Order: Special Victims Unit
AU: Darker Reflections
Rating: PG13
Characters: John Munch, Elliot Stabler, Brian Cassidy
Word Count: 2128

Summary: Financier and diamond broker John Munch meets with a hit man to get rid of a problem that he can't otherwise deal with.

Notes: Part of the Darker Reflections AU, in which Fin is a Harlem-based gangster, Huang is a criminal mastermind in Chinatown, and other familiar faces are involved in various criminal activities in New York City.

"When Mr. Stabler arrives, inform me before you let him into the office, Cassidy." Munch hung his coat on the rack next to the door. "I'm not in the mood to have any mistakes today."

Cassidy nodded. "Right boss." He wasn't about to risk losing the only decent job he'd been able to find after the bust for soliciting had ended his police career before it could really get started. "Need any coffee or tea?"

"I'll get my own." Munch waved him off, closing the door to his office behind him, leaving Cassidy to keep an eye on the door.

John Munch's office was a little more upscale than Elliot's usual haunts, and he'd traded in his usual wifebeater for a suit and tie that Olivia had sworn made him look almost respectable.

Munch was one of the only 'legitimate' businessmen with whom Elliot had dealt, and though they'd never met face to face, their interactions had gone smoothly enough that both parties were willing to take the risk of taking their professional relationship to the next level.

The work he'd done had taken him to all sorts of places in the city, but he'd never really expected to find himself walking into an office as ostensibly respectable as this one, on a street where a suit and tie was a way to blend in rather than an invitation to a mugging.

He pushed the door to Munch's office open and stepped inside, scanning the room out of habit.  The lobby's only occupant had the sort of vulnerable good looks that would under other circumstances be an invitation to play, but Elliot restricted himself to a long, deliberate look as the man got up, letting his eyes linger on the broad shoulders and chiseled jaw before offering up a slow, dangerously heated smile.

"Elliot Stabler.  I have an appointment."

Cassidy had gotten up as the man came in, automatically looking him over and assessing what sort of threat he could be. He doubted the suit was something Stabler often wore, or that he was the kind of customer Cassidy normally ushered through to Munch's office.

"Right. Wait here, I'll tell Mr. Munch you're here." He had to concentrate on not letting himself tense as he reached for the phone, punching the line for the inner office. "Mr. Munch, Mr. Stabler is here."

"Good. Show him in."

Cassidy nodded, even though Munch couldn't actually see him, and waved Stabler over as he headed for the doors. "Through here, Mr. Stabler." He pushed one door open, staying next to the open door as he waited for Stabler to go inside.

Elliot stepped through the open door, passing close enough to Munch's assistant that their bodies almost touched.  He smiled at the kid one more time, but refrained from speaking; let his smile speak for him.

Munch's office was decorated with understated elegance, and Elliot was once again glad that he'd allowed Olivia to pick out the suit he wore.  He'd not only have felt out of place, but stood out, drawn attention and been remembered later.

Munch himself was older, slender, and though he was no physical threat, there was something in the man's eyes that spoke of a dangerous intelligence that would be a mistake to cross.  Elliot took a seat without waiting to be invited, and leaned back into the surprisingly comfortable leather.


"John Munch," he said, smirking.  "We meet at last.  I've got to compliment you on your assistant.  Very nice."  He'd put a quick and brutal stop to the jokes about his sexuality early in his career, and now the only ones who made those sort of remarks were the actively suicidal.  Elliot had lost his chance at a Marine Corps career for refusing to hide what he was, and he was tough enough that he could hold his own even in New York's brutal underworld.

"I do try to hire people who will complement the decor." Munch waved Cassidy out, waiting for the door to close before he continued. "You clean up as nicely as our mutual friend said you might. Though I would appreciate if you would save flirting with my assistant until he's off the clock."

He gave Stabler a sardonic smile, leaning back slightly in his chair. Alex had been right when she said the man wouldn't look entirely comfortable in a suit, however well Olivia had chosen his wardrobe. At least he wouldn't have stood out among the well-heeled men and women who worked in and around Munch's building.

"That was just...appreciation," Elliot said, smiling lazily and crossing his legs at the ankles, wishing for his more comfortable jeans and t-shirt.  "I'd offer up the usual pleasantries, but I suspect they'd be a waste of time.  What can I do for you, Mr. Munch?"

"I'm sure it was." Munch shrugged, his smile fading back to his usual neutral expression. "I have someone who's causing a bit of trouble. She's not the sort to be easily detered, and I need a more permanent solution."

From what he'd been able to find, bribing the particular detective who was hassling some of his employees wouldn't be possible, and he was getting tired of the accusations that cost money to fend off.

"Permanent solutions are a specialty of mine," Elliot allowed, dropping the sensual camoflauge and sitting up straight in his chair, letting Munch get a good look at just what he was hiring.  Elliot had been a sniper until the Marine Corps discharged him, and he'd done more than his fair share of killing since then.  None of his bodies had ever been found, either.

"Give me a name and the personal information," he told Munch, "and I'll handle it.  I don't work for free, though.  I assume our mutual friend discussed my fee with you?  A hundred thousand, half up front and half afterwards."

"Cash or other negotiable currency?" He wouldn't dream of using anything that would leave a paper trail, and it wasn't as if he didn't have enough petty cash in his office to take care of the fee.

"Or diamonds.  Your choice," Elliot told him.  "You can leave the second half with our mutual acquaintance to hold until the problem's been taken care of."  Neither cash nor diamonds would leave a trail, and Olivia had gotten where she was by being absolutely trustworthy...for certain people.

Munch nodded, reaching forward to open one of the drawers on his desk, pulling free a small bag that he set on the edge nearest Stabler. "Detective Monique Jeffries. She has a disturbing habit of disrupting business at inconvenient hours of the day. Her address is unlisted, however, I have my sources."

He set a slip of paper on the desk next to the bag of diamonds, with the home address of his troublesome detective, and her usual haunts.

Elliot nodded once, scooping up the diamonds in one hand, then glancing briefly at the proffered slip of paper before handing it back to Munch.

"You can keep that," he said.  He'd a good enough memory to remember what he'd seen, and wasn't about to walk around with something that incriminating in his pocket.  He opened the bag and took a quick look at the contents.  They seemed genuine enough to him, but he'd have to have a jeweler check them to be sure.  He didn't bother mentioning the penalty for cheating him.

Munch tucked the piece of paper back into the top drawer of his desk, for later disposal in flames. He let his lips twitch up in a smug smirk as Stabler checked the contents of the bag. His reputation would be worthless if he didn't keep his word, and provide the best quality services possible for his clientele, both legitimate and otherwise. The diamonds were real, and of good quality, though he doubted Stabler would simply take his word for it, not yet.

"When I hear the job is done, I'll deposit the rest with our mutual friend. I'd say it's a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Stabler, but I'm afraid that would be a sentiment I rarely find is true."

"Wait until I've done the job," Elliot told him, smirking.  "You can tell me then, and mean it."  Killing a cop would present more of a challenge than his usual prey; it would be a change from killing wayward dealers and pimps who thought they should branch out on their own.

For one thing, the police would be far more thorough when investigating the disappearance of one of their own than they ever would for Elliot's usual victims. The detective would also be armed, and trained in the use of her weapon, even if she'd never fired it in anger.

"Does she have any reason to suspect what's coming?" Elliot asked.

If she did, it would add an element of further danger to an already challenging assignment, and he needed to know.

"I've been nothing but politeness and charm." Munch snorted. "If she expects anything like this, she's more competant than her record so far would indicate."

Which was to say, he doubted she would expect this, and he didn't think highly of her intelligence or abilities. Certainly she was a determined detective, and had to possess some competence in order to reach the rank she had, but he didn't think much of most of the people in the NYPD.

Elliot nodded.  He'd halfway intended to join the NYPD before the dishonourable discharge on his record had made it impossible for him to get a job as a security guard, much less as a police officer.  He'd disposed of one of New York's finest twice before, but that wasn't the sort of thing one bragged about at a first meeting.  

"Timeline?" he asked.  He'd prefer to have a few days for observation, but they weren't a necessity.

"Close of business Friday. I like to have things wrapped up before sundown." Not that he was particularly observant, but it did make for a convenient deadline that he could easily write off to the religion with which he was raised.

A day and a half wasn't exactly an ideal timeline, but Elliot knew he could handle it.  He put the velvet bag holding the diamonds into the inner pocket of his coat and nodded politely at Munch before standing up.

"You can consider it done," he promised, then smirked.  "I don't suppose you'd tell me whether or not your assistant is likely to respond to my...appreciation?"

"Ask him yourself, his lunch break's at noon." Munch shrugged, though he was fairly certain it would be entertaining to watch Cassidy's response to Stabler's flirting. If only to see him stutter and get flustered, regardless of if he had any inclination toward anything. "I don't keep track of my employee's sex lives."

"I might do that," Elliot said, then took a step closer to the desk, putting both hands on it and leaning in close to Munch.  "Then again, I might not."  He lowers his voice, catches Munch's eyes with his own.  "He'd be fun, but he's nothing special.  You, on the other hand..."  The smile on his face is pure sex, and he knows it.  "I like a challenge.  In the bedroom as well as on the job."

Munch smirked, raising an eyebrow as he meets Stabler's gaze steadily. "I'm sure you do, Mr. Stabler." Neither invitation nor rejection, keeping his own opinions to himself for now. He wasn't about to commit to anything, even short-term, until after Detective Jeffries was gone. If mostly because he doubted anyone else on the force would be so irritating as she was.

Though once she was gone, and things had settled down again... well, Stabler did at least appear attractive on a physical level. And perhaps then he might have the time and focus to devote to finding out if there was more appeal there than simply that.

"Maybe you should hold onto the other half of the payment," Elliot suggested.  Oh, yes -- John Munch was the real prize in this affair.  The diamonds were rapidly taking second place even to the joy of taking down a cop, and the possibility of getting the man in front of him into his bed, or against a wall...  Elliot straightened up and gave Munch one last smile.  "I'll see you sometime on Friday," he promised.  "Before sundown."

As he made his way through the outer office, the smile he gave Cassidy was almost automatic -- though watching the man blush and shift in his seat was certainly worth the effort.  He had arrangements to make, a police officer to kill, and a potential prize at the end that made a hundred thousand dollars' worth of jewels almost irrelevant.