Title: Fine

Author: themurderedbird

Disclaimer: They all belong to Dick Wolf and NBC, unfortunately.

Rating: MA

A/N: Not my first fic, but my first SVU fic. I write X-Files fic under xraescully but I can't get into that account anymore, so check my stuff out over there if you wanna…..

Summary: I don't really want to give up too much, but, takes place right after "Wrath."

My life had been fine before she walked in. Fine. I had my friends, I had my work. It's true I didn't have a meaningful relationship, nor had I had one that had lasted more than a few dates in god knows how long. But, things were fine. I'd been on the force for about eight years and things were going well for me. Elliot and I took care of each other, the whole squad took care of each other. And then she walked in. She walked into the squad room in all her egotistical self.

I still remember what she was wearing the first time I met her. I resented her. We all did. Maybe not her as much, but her presence. We all thought she was there to micromanage us. We didn't believe she was there to help us. Cops and lawyers don't generally get along, we knew she wasn't going to be any different. I was probably harder on her than the guys were. Not because she was a woman, I knew better than any of them how hard our job was, but because of what I felt for her the second she walked in the door.

I thought if I found reasons to hate her, then I wouldn't want her. I wouldn't look at her and get lost in her beautiful blue eyes. I wouldn't want to touch her skin that looked like it would melt under my touch. I wouldn't want to feel her body against mine and I definitely wouldn't want to feel her lips pressed against mine.

Nothing I did worked. If anything, it made things worse. Every argument we got in made me want her even more. Made me want to press her against the wall and shut her up with my body and my lips. And we argued, a lot. She was stubborn. So was I. We were both hard headed and independent. Hating her wasn't a good strategy.

So, I tried to get along with her. And she made it so so hard. We would get along for a while. A few weeks. Then we'd go back to fighting. During the Plummer case she questioned my judgement, accusing me of being drunk, which only served to piss me off at her even more at her.

So when she showed up at my place the night I shot him, she was the last person I wanted to see. I had already turned Elliot away, what made her think I wanted anything to do with her was beyond me. She knocked on the door, softly at first, as If she were unsure of herself. I told her to leave. She refused, asking me to let her in. I told her to just leave me alone. So she called. When I wouldn't answer, she called again, leaving me a message, demanding I open the door so she could check on me. Then she started knocking louder, and yelling at me through the door. Telling me she'd stay out there all night until I let her in or the neighbors called the cops. I laughed at the thought of the perfect Alexandra Cabot explaining to a street cop why she was banging on my door at 2 am.

I gave in and opened the door. I was drunk. Too drunk for my own good. And that moment was my undoing. She was my undoing. Had I known it at the time, I would have made the same decisions.

I stood in my doorway, bottle of whiskey in one hand, the other holding the door open just enough so she could see me, but not get into the room. "What do you want, Counselor?" I asked with as much disdain as I could muster. I took in her appearance. She had changed into jeans and a sweater, her hair was pulled back and she was wearing this god damn glasses. Her jacket was damp from the rain and her hair was slightly curled from the humidity. Her eyes were soft, they didn't hold their usual coldness.

"I wanted to check on you, make sure you were ok." I remember thinking that had you been concerned earlier maybe you wouldn't be checking on me now. I smirked. You caught the smirk on my face. "What's so funny?"

"Your concern for me. That's funny." I took a long swig of the bottle. "Get out of here Alex, I don't need you here." I tried to push the door shut in your face. You stopped it with your foot. "Alex..." I grabbed the door and pushed it towards you again. "You need to go."

You said nothing. But you pressed your hand against my chest and pushed me backwards. I almost fell over into my living room and you slammed the door behind you. "What the fuck?" I yelled once I caught my balance. "I told you to fucking leave, get out!" I pointed towards the door, yelling.

Instead, you walked around me and picked up the glass I was drinking out of. "How much have you had to drink?"

"Fuck you!" I spat, holding up the bottle in my hand. I drank the last of the bottle and threw it towards you. You were luckily able to dodge the bottle and it hit the wall behind you.

"Real cute, Olivia." You made eye contact with me. Your ice blue eyes burning into mine. I looked away, ashamed of the way I was acting but unable to stop myself. I pushed passed you and made my way to the kitchen. You grabbed my arm and I pulled away from your grip. "Olivia..." you called out to me. "Can you just talk to me?"

"You want to talk to me? Now?" Talk. I was too pissed at you to talk. I reached in the cabinet for another bottle. "What could you possibly want to talk to me about now? I needed you earlier and you shrugged it off. Told me I was drunk. And now here we are. Happy now?" I poured more whiskey into a new glass.

"Fuck you, Olivia!" The look on your face told me the words came out of your mouth before you could stop them. Your face flushed and your hands balled into fists. "You know, I came to check on you, because everyone was worried about you, and you wouldn't answer your phone and you wouldn't answer your door."

I took a long swig of my drink. "So they sent you? Because everyone else was worried about me?" I locked eyes with her.

"I was worried about you, Liv." You refused to break eye contact with me no matter how long I stare you down. I threw back the rest of my drink.

"I don't need your sympathy, Cabot. I'm fine." I slammed the glass down on the counter, surprised it didn't break in my hand. "He's not the first person I've shot. Probably won't be the last." I made an attempt to pour another drink, and before I could unscrew the bottle you pulled it out of my hands. "You my mother now?"

"No, I'm not. But I'm worried about you. You've had enough." You started to pour the whiskey down the sink and I tried to grab it from you. Had I not been drunk, I probably would have been able to get it out of your hands, but I couldn't get my balance. "Look, I'm sorry I accused you of being drunk and you thought I was questioning your judgement, Olivia. I wasn't." You turned back toward me, the bottle half empty in your hands. "I was trying to protect you from what any defense attorney would have thrown at you had you went after him at the time."

"I don't need your excuses, Alex. Just give me my whiskey and get out." I reached for it and you pulled it behind your back. "Please, leave." You shook your head and turned to continue outing out the bottle. I lunged forward to try and grab it again and ended up grabbing your wrist and and falling against you, trapping your arm behind you and pressing you against the counter with my body.

Time seemed to stand still then. I could feel your body tense against mine as you tried to pull your arm free of my grip, but I held on too tight, pulling it tighter behind you. Our lips were inches apart from each other and I could feel your breath catch as our eyes met and my hips slammed against yours. You dropped the bottle in the sink, the noise was deafening. "You should have left when I told you too." I said quietly.

"I'm not leaving until I know you're ok, Liv." Your voice was so quiet I almost didn't hear what you said. The fact that you looked slightly scared started to sober me up. However, I was confused as to what you were actually scared of. I knew it was me, I didn't know if you were scared that I was going to physically hurt you or myself.

"What are you scared of, Alex?" I asked, becoming extremely aware of my hand around your wrist. I placed my other hand on your hip and pulled you closer to me. I could instantly feel your breathing quicken.

"I...I'm not..." I watched your face grow red and your eyes dropped from mine. I was so mad at you. You didn't trust my judgement enough to help me go after Plummer when I asked for your help. You didn't trust me to be alone tonight and here you were questioning me about how much I drank and telling me I've had enough. Clearly I'd had enough. But I didn't need your know it all opinion. I'd had enough, and I couldn't stop the feeling inside me. The burning feeling that was growing inside from being so god damn close to you. So I did the one thing that I thought would make it stop.

I kissed you.

And my world stopped.

And I thought I had died and gone to heaven when you realized what was going on and you began kissing me back.

I had expected you to push me away, to slap me in the face, anything. Except to kiss me back. I pulled away and looked you in the eyes. They had turned a dark blue and had lost some of their anger and turned to lust. I knew there were questions in mine. "What do you need?" Was all you asked me, and that was all the permission I needed from you to continue and take from you what I needed that night.

I was rough with you that night. I didn't take my time. I was selfish and let my demons get the best of me. And you let me. You didn't ask for anything in return. You didn't complain. You gave me everything I asked for and wanted for nothing. You didn't complain about the bruises I left on you the next day or even the day after. It was everything I needed, but nothing I wanted.

It wasn't how I wanted our first time to be. And I told you so. Over and over. But every time I tried to apologize you would stop me. You refused my apologizes and brushed them off. You knew it's what I needed that night, you knew it was more help than what I would get in any shrinks office. And you were right.

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I was nervous when I walked in to that squad room the first time. I knew I wouldn't get a warm welcome. I knew that I had a long fight ahead of me when it came to winning the squads trust. But when I walked in and I laid my eyes on you, my heart skipped a beat and I knew I was in for the fight of my life. I knew that if I wasn't careful, I was going to fall for you hard, and fall for you I did.

We fought, all the time. You were so hard headed. Always wanted to be right, even when you knew that I needed more from you, needed you to do your job as well as I knew you could. You were stubborn. You couldn't admit I was right even when I was. And all any of it did was make me lust after you even more. I would watch you during interrogations and I couldn't concentrate. The way you handled yourself drove me crazy. After every interrogation I wanted to pull you aside and let you have your way with me.

And your eyes. I could get lost in them and never come back. There was so much in them that I wanted to learn, and I never imagined you'd let me in. And your strong hands. And your body. All of you, I wanted all of you and never for a second believed that you would want anything to do with me.

And then Plummer happened. And things got worse. I accused you of being drunk the night you thought you saw him after you left the bar. You thought I was questioning your judgement. I was doing anything but. I was trying to protect you, trying to keep you from prosecution if anything had happened. I was trying to save you. And then you shot him, and I had to talk my way into your apartment.

You were drunk. So drunk. I'd never seen you so drunk. When I finally pushed my way into your apartment, and you continued to tell me where to go and how to get there, I figured you had drank at least a full bottle of whiskey. And not the good stuff either. I knew you were going to feel it the next day. Your tear stained face told me you were going to feel it a lot longer than that.

You threw the bottle at me. You were so angry and at some point it became blurred if it was still me you were angry at or someone or something else. When you grabbed me, you scared me. Not because I thought you would ever physically hurt me. Never did that thought cross my mind, but because I thought that this was the moment I had waited for for so long. But I didn't want this to ruin everything after that night.

I should have left. I knew that.

And then you kissed me.

And i crumbled.

I knew then I couldn't leave you there. Not that night, probably not ever.

So I returned the kiss. And when you stopped and looked at me with questions in those beautiful brown eyes I asked you the only thing I knew you needed that night, "what do you need?"

You used me that night, and I let you. You let my arm go and pulled me away from the sink and slammed me against the wall. Your lips instantly covered mine. And your hands, god your hands. They were all over me and yet it wasn't enough. I grabbed onto to your arm with my left hand and the back of your neck with my right, pulling you farther into me.

You pulled me off the wall and pulled me into the living room and pushed me on to the couch. You crawled on top of me and started pulling my sweater off of me and your lips were on my bare skin. You had me completely naked before I knew what had happened and all I wanted was to feel your naked body on mine. I tried to pull your shirt off of you but you pulled my hands above my head and held them there while you assaulted my body with your mouth.

"Liv," I tried to get your attention. To tell you I wanted your clothes off but you weren't listening. You were off somewhere else. You pulled my legs apart and and knelt between them, running your hand down my stomach. When you reached between my legs, you paused feeling how wet I was, and then without warning, you slammed your fingers in me. My back arched causing your fingers to slide farther into me. I came hard and quick.

You got off of me and took your shirt off. You started walking towards the hallway. You stopped halfway down and turned around to look at me. I just watched you standing there, not sure if you were going to say anything or if you wanted me to leave. Then you took off your pants and raised your eyebrow at me. I took that as my cue to follow you. We didn't make it down the hallway before you were in me again and had me lifted up and pressed against the wall. I wrapped my legs around your waist and my arms around your shoulders.

You buried your face in my neck as you wrapped an arm around my waist holding me up by my hip as you slid your right hand between us finding my center. You stroked me once, then twice, enticing a moan from deep in my throat before sliding two fingers inside me. You paused this time. Only for a second. Long enough for your breath to catch and for me to feel you shudder. And then your teeth sunk into my shoulder as you moved your fingers in me. You held me there for what felt like an eternity, using enough pressure to get me just to the edge, but not enough to push me over. You held me up on that wall until I could feel your arms start to shake and your legs started to give out. You finally pulled me off that wall, but every time I walk by that wall I remember that night.

You carried me to your room. How you had the strength or the balance as drunk as you were, I still don't know, but you did it. I remember thinking I had never been in your room, but now wasn't the time for the grand tour. No sooner had my back hit the mattress, than you were on me, head between my legs. I couldn't think straight. Things were happening so fast and I wanted them to slow down but I couldn't stop you, I wouldn't stop you. Your strong hands were on my hips, pulling me down into your mouth and then they were on my thighs and back on my stomach. It didn't take long for you to make me cum again. And when you looked up at me and smiled that smile of yours, I knew I couldn't come back from this.

"Turn over," you told me, your voice harsh and grainy. I did as I was told, for once in our relationship. I felt you kneel behind me and then I felt your hand come down across my ass. The loud slapping sound that accompanied it made it sound more painful than it felt. But it made a small scream escape my lips. I could practically hear the smile on your face. You ran your hands up my back and across my shoulders before laying your body down over mine and taking my ear in between your teeth. A small moan jerked my hips back into yours.

For a moment I thought you were going to be tender and loving, and you kissed me in such a way that poured those emotions out of you. And then something changed, maybe you remembered the events of the night, or why we were here doing what we were doing, I don't know, but your touch went from soft to hard again. You flipped me over and slid your hands down my body spreading my legs apart. You braced yourself over me with your left arm and slid your right hand between my legs. You stared into my eyes, your dark brown eyes holding mine steady. It was the first time that night you took anything slow.

You took your time. You slid your fingers into me slowly, painfully slow and back into me just as slow. And you kept your eyes on me. I could feel a fire building deep inside of me, my breathing became deeper and faster. I dug my fingers into your back, right into your shoulder blades as I could feel myself tighten around you. You pushed into me harder and I could feel the muscles in your back tighten as my nails dig into your skin and down your back, sure I was drawing blood. Your head pulled back as I scraped my nails and you arched your back in what I could only assume was pleasure as I came around you. As my legs fell to the bed and I relaxed around you, I let my hands fall to your hips and you placed your head in my neck.

We laid there for a few minutes not saying anything, not moving. And then I felt your body start to shake and I knew you were crying. I gently wrapped my arms around your strong shoulders and you sunk into me. I held you and ran my fingers through your hair. I rolled you over onto your side so we were face to face. I ran my hand down your body and slid my hand between your legs, expecting you to stop me, but you didn't. You were so wet and I was afraid you were going to make me stop. You hadn't let me touch you all night and I didn't you would let me.

I was slow and gentle because I thought that's what you needed and you didn't give me any indication otherwise. You held onto me like you might break into pieces. You let me take you to orgasm slowly as I kissed your neck and your face and kissed your tears away. But that was all you would give me that night. You took what you needed from me and you gave me what you could. You let go of what little control you could give up and I was thankful for that. I let you fall asleep next to me, but I didn't sleep that night.

I listened to your soft cries in your sleep. And I held your hand when you reached out for me and I stroked your hair when you would let go. I watched your troubled sleep until you finally fell out of a fitful sleep into something deeper. I got up with the sun that morning, admiring the marks you left on my body. I thought at first that maybe I should be mad about them, the bruises and scratches. But I wasn't. I was happy they were there. I ran my fingers over the bruises on my hips where your fingers had dug into them, over my collarbone where your teeth had been. I smiled.

I admired your naked body sprawled out across the bed, the only part of you that was covered was your ass. Your well-muscled arms were bent under your head and one leg was bent at the knee. I could see the scratches I left on your back, I had drawn blood last night. I ran my fingers lightly across your back. You moved against my touch but didn't wake. I knew you'd be asleep for a while and I knew you'd need it so I left you to sleep.

You'd apologize to me over and over for the way you treated me that night. You felt guilty for the marks you left on me, regardless of how many times I told you I left them on you too. I refused your apologies no matter how hard you tried. I tried to give you what you needed that night. I know it's not what either of us had hoped for when we thought about starting a relationship with each other, but it was something that you needed, and something I wanted to give.

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