An Almost Thing

Rollins/Alex. Early Season 13. Something to try out.

It was late. Alex tried to supress a yawn, with difficultly. It had been a long day, but the invitation for a couple of drinks with the detectives after a day spent fighting in the courtroom had been a welcome one. She rolled her neck around, slowly, feeling the tightness in her shoulders ease. Over the table, Rollins caught her eye, smiled. Alex smiled back. A few days prior, on the Russian Bride case, the two women had spent the evening listening to Cragen's wiretap in a hotel room. They had chatted to pass the time, and Alex had found herself warming to Rollins' quiet, easy sense of humour. They hadn't spoken much since – work, as always, getting in the way – but Alex was enjoying Rollins' company again tonight. It was nice to be out, to talk and joke and relax.

The conversation had turned to embarrassing exes, and Munch had just leaned forward to take the floor.

"A girlfriend of mine – yes, back in the days when I was quite desirable, my friends – took me to a karaoke bar and sang 'You Can Leave Your Hat On' for me in front of a room full of strangers," he said, his delivery, as always, completely deadpan. The others laughed, Fin mimed straightening out a hat with a sultry look on his face.

"Could she sing?" Alex asked, smiling as she imagined a young and red-faced Munch frozen in his chair in a dingy karaoke bar.

"Not in the slightest," replied Munch, finishing his drink.

"An ex once sang to me in the street after we'd just broken up," recounted Rollins, shuddering slightly with the memory. "Most embarrassing incident of my life."

"What did he sing?" asked Amaro, leaning forward.

"She," corrected Rollins, lightly, "sang Gloria Gaynor's 'I Will Survive', at the top of her voice in the middle of one of Atlanta's busiest streets. Awkward because, well, I survived it a whole lot better than she did."

The table laughed, but the pronoun correction hadn't gone unnoticed. Munch and Amaro exchanged a glance, and Amaro's eyebrow flickered slightly. Fin smiled, knowingly. He must have guessed, thought Alex. It wasn't hugely surprising, but Rollin's casual confession was intriguing. As was Olivia's reaction. She baulked, her eyes wide, then reached forward for her drink too quickly. Her fingers knocked the top of the beer bottle, which tipped over onto the table.

"Shit!" cursed Olivia, grabbing some napkins from the dispenser to try to mop up the spill, as Fin jumped up to avoid getting beer on his trousers. "Sorry," she muttered, looking around the table.

"I'll get another round," said Rollins, getting up.

"No, it's ok, I'll get it," said Olivia, but Rollins waved her offer away casually.

"It's my shout anyway. Same again?"

Nods all round. On a whim, Alex stood up. "I'll help you carry them," she said, shifting around the table. She was aware of Olivia's head snapping round to her, but didn't meet her gaze. What was her problem? Thought Alex, irritated, before brushing it off. She was probably imagining things.

"I like to give people a bit of space after coming out," smiled Rollins when they were at the bar. "In case they need to bitch or get over it."

"Do people bitch a lot?" asked Alex, keeping her voice casual.

"Not really. I actually prefer bitching to over-enthusiastic support or surprise. Or the worst is, 'you're never a lesbian! You're too pretty!'"

Alex laughed. Rollins was pretty, but she had a toughness about her that made her more than "just" pretty. Her eyes especially were not "pretty", they were sexy, and right now they were fixed on Alex's with a sly smile dancing around them.

"How about you? Are you out at work, counsellor?"

Her question took Alex completely by surprise. "I… How did you know?" she said, quietly.

"I didn't," grinned Rollins. "I just had a suspicion and wanted to see if I was right."

Alex bowed her head, conceding the point. "I'm not, I mean, I don't date much at all anymore, so it's not really relevant."

Rollins nodded, although Alex wasn't sure what she'd even been trying to say. It seemed that Rollins understood though, and Alex found that she was grateful for that.

"Do you mind me asking…" started Rollins, hesitantly. Both women were leaning against the bar, and Rollins' voice was quiet, so Alex leaned in closer. She smelt nice, thought Alex, the thought abrupt and un-summoned in her head. But she did, her washing powder was fresh, her perfume more sultry. It was a nice combination. Alex found it hard to rouse her brain back to the conversation, found that she had not really noticed the tightness of Rollins' top before. Rollins' voice brought her back to reality. "Do you mind me asking… Did you and Olivia ever have a thing?"

For the second time in the last two minutes, Alex Cabot was stunned to silence for a few moments. A thing. Did she and Olivia ever have a thing.

Memories of many, many almost-things came churning round her head. The night in a hotel room during the Connors case, when they had lain together the entire night, hardly speaking. Some years before that, when they'd both been drunk and Olivia had lent in as if to kiss her, before pulling away suddenly. The night before she'd left for the Congo, the night Olivia had turned up, unannounced, hugged her and kissed her cheek and left without a word said… The heated arguments driven by more than just case-related incidents, the always-there undercurrent, the endless frustration...

"No." replied Alex, finally. "Not really. Almost," she conceded, looking up to find Rollins' sceptical face.

"Ok," said Rollins softly. "I just wanted to know if she'd be mad if I asked you out to dinner."

Before she had a chance to respond, Olivia suddenly came into view, and Alex clammed up.

"What's going on?" asked Olivia, her voice overly casual as she looked from Rollins to Alex.

"Would you rather be a metre taller or a metre shorter?" asked Rollins, quickly.

"What?" Olivia looked taken aback.

"See, I think taller, because you could get stuff from the top shelf really easily, but Alex isn't sure, because if you were shorter you could wear kids' clothes, which are cheaper." Rollins shrugged. "It's a real dilemma." With that, she smiled, and left, carrying the drinks.

Alex tried to supress a grin. Of all the awkward moment escapes she'd ever witnessed, this one was the best purely for the expression on Olivia's face.

"It is a real dilemma Liv," she said, gravely, before walking away.