|Something There That Wasn't There Before
Author: madeleine68 PM
Olivia hated Alex on first sight, merely on general principle. But then things started to change . . . A/O oneshot. Please review!Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Drama - A. Cabot & O. Benson - Words: 2,007 - Reviews: 15 - Favs: 13 - Follows: 2 - Published: 08-31-10 - Status: Complete - id: 6287573
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: Nothing and no one belongs to me. That's life sometimes.
The first thought that flitted through my mind at the sight of Alex Cabot was that she was another uptight bitch hoping to further her political career. I hated her with a vengeance. No one was like us and no one could understand us. She was here to help herself, not the victims, and not us. She would never understand the true dedication and passion required to succeed at this job. She wouldn't last long.
"How long do you think this one will last?" Elliot asked me in an undertone as she sauntered out of the room, emanating confidence in the way she walked, the way she held her head high, the ramrod straightness of her back.
I appraised her Jimmy Choo heels, her neatly pressed business suit, her beach blonde hair pulled into a tight bun, not one strand out of place. "Three months, tops."
We shook on it and went back to work.
Alex drove me crazy. She would walk into the precinct wearing designer brands and shoes that cost more than what I earned in a week, and she had the nerve to tell us how we didn't know how to do our jobs. We were the ones who cared about these poor women who'd been raped by monsters, not her! It was well enough for her to call her Uncle Bill when she needed a favor, but the only person we had to go to was her, and when she refused to help us, we were up against a brick wall.
But she lasted. And on the third month mark, Elliot triumphantly held out his hand. "My winnings, please."
"I'm broke," I snarled, wanting to kick something, preferably Alex.
"We made a deal," he reminded me.
"Tomorrow," I muttered. "Tomorrow's payday and I'll give you your twenty bucks then."
"I'll hold you to that," he said good-naturedly. "With 10% daily interest."
"Can't you give me a break?"
"It doesn't matter if you plan on holding up your end."
"Fine," I snapped before stomping out of there.
A call of, "Detective Benson?" stopped me and I whirled around, face to face with just the last person I wanted to see right now.
"What?" I barked, not in the mood to deal with Alex Cabot right now.
"I got you the warrant."
"To search Barrera's place."
"We didn't ask you to get that warrant," I growled.
She smiled shyly, and I was momentarily daunted. Shy was not within Alex's repertoire of expressions, and it looked awkward on her face. "I thought you might need it."
What made it even worse was that I knew she was right. We'd actually called her to ask for the warrant, but she hadn't answered, and I was in too foul a mood to leave a message. It was just easier to pretend she was incompetent, even though she clearly wasn't. "Thanks," I said grudgingly.
She smirked, that smug smile that I absolutely despised, and she replied, a touch of amusement in her voice, "Don't mention it."
"Fine," I said sarcastically. "I won't." I turned and started to go, but she stopped me again.
"Elliot told me I earned him twenty bucks."
She was smirking again and I clasped my hands together so I wouldn't be temped to wipe it off her face. "Since you clearly have twenty dollars to spare and I don't, why don't you pay up instead?"
She shrugged. "Why should I? You lost the bet."
"It's your fault I lost."
Amusement played around the corners of her lips. "How so?"
I really didn't feel like answering, so I started to stalk out of there for the third time.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Detective," she called sweetly after me.
"If I live that long," I muttered, curling my hands into fists as I left.
Alex met us at a crime scene one day in Gucci heels and a dress that probably cost more than I earned in an entire year. It was a light blue dress that accentuated her figure, bringing out the blue in her bottomless eyes. Her golden hair hung loosely over her shoulders and I had a nagging feeling that the necklace she wore was more expensive than my entire apartment, I'd never really noticed her breathtaking beauty before – I mean, I had, but I'd never really thought about it. I mean, really thought about it. She was gorgeous.
She noticed me staring and bit her lip, a gesture I'd learned she only did when she was nervous. "So what have we got?"
I couldn't bite back my retort. I wasn't technically angry at her; I was angry at the moisture pooling between my legs at the sight of that tight dress, clinging to her in all the right ways. But she was an easy target. "What does it look like, Counselor?"
She crossed her arms, quirking an eyebrow in amusement. "It looks like a dead body. What more can you tell me?"
"I can't tell you anything until the autopsy is completed."
She sighed. "Is this the work of our serial killer?"
"When we catch him, you can ask, and I'm sure he'll tell you."
Alex rolled her eyes. "Sometimes I wonder why I even talk to you."
"Sometimes I wonder the same thing." I could see the frustration igniting behind those icy baby blues, and it was almost empowering. So I pressed on. "Feel free to go back to whatever guy you left sitting at a five star restaurant. We'll send you the report later."
There it was, that smirk again. "There's no guy."
That stopped me for a moment. "What?"
She leaned toward me so no one else could hear and whispered, "And I'm sure she'll wait."
I mulled her word over again, trying to figure them out. I'm sure she'll wait. My breath hitched. Alex Cabot was perfect. She was also gay.
She found me in the washroom one day, crying over a little girl that we couldn't save. Her father who'd been molesting her had made bail and when he found her, he'd killed her. I'd promised I'd keep her safe, but I couldn't even do that. My words had been empty.
I looked up to find Alex Cabot towering over me, an expression relatively unknown to her face flitting across her features. It took me a moment to place it – uncertainty.
"What's wrong?" she asked gently, kneeling down so we were eye level.
I quickly dried my tears with my sleeve. "Nothing you could ever understand."
I got to my feet. "Go back outside and tell Elliot I'm fine and he should go home to his wife and kids or I'll kick his ass."
She stood up, too. "He left half an hour ago."
I considered that for a moment. With as much venom as I could muster, I asked, "Then what are you doing here?"
She paused, clearly thinking about how to answer. "I know this one hit you hard. I wanted to make sure you were okay."
Her words were so simple and yet so pure that I couldn't even think up a snarky reply. "I'm fine," I said quietly.
"Are you sure?"
I thought for a minute, then nodded, but my hesitation belied my words, and she saw it.
"Do you want some company tonight?"
No, I wanted to say. I wanted to say it more than anything else. I couldn't be dependent or vulnerable. I couldn't need her like this. But like it or not, I needed someone, and she was offering.
"Yes," I said instead.
And her smile made me second guess my original hesitation.
She had a penthouse on Fifth Avenue and it was almost as if stepping into another world. I'd never been somewhere like this before. You're not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy, I told myself with a smile. I vaguely wondered where all this money had come from. A prosecutor's salary was enough to live well on, but not nearly this well.
The apartment was tastefully decorated, but there was nothing personal about it. There wasn't even a photograph on the mantel, not of her family or a girlfriend or even just a friend. Maybe she didn't have any. The thought made me smile again, but then I felt bad. Sure, she was an arrogant, uptight bitch who had a stick up her ass most of the time, but she'd invited me over tonight because she realized that I needed somebody, and I couldn't say anything negative about that.
"Do you want something to drink? We've got wine or I could make cocktails," she offered.
"No, thanks." I didn't feel like drinking tonight. Actually, I did. I wanted it too much, and I knew that if I started, I wouldn't be able to stop. I would not turn out like my mother.
She grabbed herself a bottle of Perrier and sat down beside me on the couch. The silence was awkward, but I made no move to interrupt it. I couldn't think of anything relatively civil to say.
Finally, Alex asked, "Do you want to watch a movie?"
I shrugged. "Sure. What do you have?"
She smiled. "Pay-per-view."
I took full advantage of the 783 channels that Alex had and I didn't. We watched four movies, by which time she was getting antsy, even though I was perfectly happy to sit in front of her television for the rest of the night, enthralled by the mere number of channels she got.
"Let's do something else," suggested Alex.
I shook my head. "No! They've got the new Robin Williams movie on channel 467."
She sighed. "Please, Olivia."
I finally tore my eyes away from the screen. "You don't watch a lot of TV?"
She shook her head.
"Then why do you have 819 channels?"
"Do you just have more money than you know what to do with?"
Alex looked offended for a moment, but then she smiled good-naturedly. "That's right."
"You can give some to me," I suggested.
"I take that to mean you're not going to."
"Right." She smiled indulgently. "Do you want to spend the night?"
I nearly fell off the couch. "Are you propositioning me, Counselor?"
She considered. "Yes, actually. I am. Did it work?"
I thought about it. I had to admit, she was gorgeous. And I might have fantasized about having her in my bed once or twice – okay, more than once or twice. Okay, way more than once or twice.
"No," I finally decided, grabbing my coat. "But you've got my number."
I got the call at three in the morning after a particularly trying case. "Are you asleep?"
I stifled a yawn. "Obviously not."
"Would you like to be insomniac together?"
And off I went to Alex Cabot's house in the middle of the night, hoping against hope that I might get lucky.
The first words out of Alex's mouth when the door closed was, "Will you sleep with me?" There was no preamble – that wasn't her style. She wanted one thing and she wasn't used to people saying no.
I decided to play with her, just a bit. "Nope."
"Liv," she whined. "Please?"
Alex Cabot whining was just about the cutest thing in the entire world. I couldn't suppress my smirk as I leaned toward her. "But I'm just as happy to get in bed and do something else."
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