Resistance is difficult in the face of temptation. A/O femslash—if it doesn't float your boat, don't put your boat in these waters.
Olivia ducked her head in defeat. Alex remained skeptical, leaning against the table with crossed her arms. The detective sucked in her lower lip, turned disappointed eyes toward the blonde and gave her a lingering once-over twice. Tapping a folder against her palm, she waited for the pink blush to reach the pale cheeks. Olivia advanced slowly as Alex's eyes darted around the busy squad room.
"Benson," she warned.
"Cabot," Olivia whispered with a crooked smile. She slid her hand onto a thin hip and squeezed. Alex noted with some relief that the folder hid this maneuver from curious eyes.
"You do this here?" she asked anxiously.
"It's a low resistance day," Olivia answered.
Alex felt the heat from Olivia's hand move across her hip to her back, then down, then gone. It took a moment to figure out exactly where this was going. "Put down the donut, Olivia."
Olivia hissed and stormed off toward the vending machine.