Chapter 1

The Sheridon Hotel's bar gave a warm, low light that flickered at each small, round table. The bar had patrons dressed in suits and dressed from Manhattan's fashion district. Martinis were sipped and Long Island iced tease, and sparkling sodas with lime. Judges were frequent customers, alongside the attractive and wealthy.

Along the bar, around the private seating area, was another warm room with the same dim-lighting and expensive dinning ware. This room contained it's own less haughty bar. Regular people, as they're known only to themselves, chat and relax with cheap booze and laughter that filled both room, as well as hearts. Along the back wall, at a table set for two, a beautiful blonde plays with the candle in the center. She wears thick brown glasses from a fashion advertisement, and a gray suit with a blue silk blouse.

A large, round man on his way to the nicer of the two rooms, turns back quickly.

"miss Cabot?"

The blonde looks up, half-expecting someone else, and then smiles and embraces the large man.

"It's good to see you, Douglas."

"Please, join me and some of my colleagues for a few drinks!"

"I would but I'm meeting a friend myself, " she smiles and winks. The man lets out a bellowing, good-natured laugh. He leans in close to her and whispers.

"She's not for you if she doesn't realize how lucky she is to have you."

Alex cups her hands around his gently, "thank you, Doug."

He grins and returns the wink, "if you change your mind about those drinks, you know where to find me. Don't hesitate."

She slides back into her chair, and the doubts slide back into her mind. What if she doesn't show? Worse, what if she shows and finds all of this disturbing? Worse even than that, what if she shows, finds it disturbing, and shares it with the squad? -worse, shares it with her partner. Although humiliation has always come with the lifestyle, her private life has remained fairly unscathed. At least up until this point.

She checked her watch, how had only a minute passed? And still, her date was already five minutes late. Maybe she'd heard about Alex's few and short-lived work relationships. They were mostly bad ideas.

They had been separated, Alex continued while staring and playing with the candle, those two years where she spent a time everyday thinking about Olivia. No, it wasn't just Olivia she thought about, it was everything she wished her and Olivia could do together. Their first date, traveling, wearing each other's rings, their first kiss. If only it weren't love, then she could ignore her feelings. With love comes pressure; the pressure made even this, a semi-date, totally and tragically frustrating, hoping and praying it'll end before it begins, and wishing it'll end in magic.

Then she caught a glimpse of her by the bar. Suddenly all of the doubts seemed as far away as Mars. She could breathe again, see again, and everything she worried about really didn't matter any more. What mattered most was seeing her, talking with her, listening to her.

Olivia smiled nicely at a man offering to buy her a drink. Her chocolate brown hair stood out over her burgundy wool coat. Her rather masculine boots gave her an edge, and her eyes as always, were deep and wise, as that of a woman of intrigue. She had one boot across the bar bar, and the tabletop tucked under her elbows. She tried flagging down the bartender with no avail. After the third try she gave up and began looking around for Alex in the dark room.

As they made eye contact they couldn't help but smile. Alex's heart began to beat faster, and for a moment she panics because she feels faint. As Olivia walks across the room, a peculiar feeling washes over Olivia. Alex suddenly looks different to her, more beautiful , but it isn't just that. The feeling inside herself seems to be morphing, or perhaps simply making sense. It could be the lighting, or the lack of lunch inside. The feeling pushes blood to her face and cheeks, and her knee's wobble in her remaining strides; she can see herself outside of herself.

Alex stands as Olivia approaches and they embrace without thinking. Olivia pulls away first and peels off her coat to reveal a warm, black v-neck sweater.

"It's warm in here," she says immediately, feeling herself blush again. Alex smiles, and thinks to herself how lucky it is the lighting is poor enough to not show her own blushing cheeks.

"I invited Elliot, I hope that's ok," says Olivia. Alex turns away a moment as the arrow penetrates her heart, then looks back to Olivia with a smaller smile, and a nod. It's quiet and still, and awkward for a moment.

"I know you two don't always get along, " she continues, "but he is good at heart. I know he can be aggressive sometimes, but-"

"You don't have to make excuses for him."

Olivia looks down at her hands, and her lips move like she's going to speak, but she doesn't. Alex realizes she's been too quick, too short.

"I didn't mean anything by it. I'm sorry. I just-"

"Maybe I should call him. Tell him not to come by tonight? "she says with a hint of questioning. Alex finds it a little strange, since Olivia never seems to seek approval.

"I was just hoping it could be you and I tonight."

Just as her words came from her lips and entered Olivia's ears, there was a familiar voice from behind.

"I'm late," Elliot says as he slides a chair to the table and slumps into it.

"Hello, Cabot," he says half-heartedly, and rather into the open air instead of to her directly.

"Alex," she says back to him in a much nicer manner, "how're you?"

"Great," he answers flatly.

"El," Olivia chimes in like a mother. He turns to her with a grin befitting a trouble-maker in his teens.

"You know how I feel about lawyers," he laughs and turns to Alex, "It's ok, I know some of you aren't leeches.

After he removes his cold smile from her, she lets out a quiet sigh and takes a hard swallow. She doesn't notice, though, Olivia watching her subtly. Elliot continues to talk to her, and only her, despite Olivia's attempts to re-establish Alex into the conversation.

Finally Alex gives up, needing a break from Elliot's blatant, and poor behavior. She's hardly audible when she says 'excuse me' and ejects from the situation. Leaving the room she realizes Elliot will try to coerce Olivia to leave with him, and all she can wish for is to lay eyes upon Olivia once more in her black sweater and cool burgundy coat. The idea of turning around and seeing Olivia laughing and joking with Elliot is too painful, and turning to lay eyes upon the woman she's in love with becomes all too impossible. If she can't have her, fine, but she refuses to linger and watch as another fills that role.

Standing in the bathroom in front of a mirror, she stares into her own eyes, though she hardly can see as her thoughts work as a cloud or veil. A warmth fills in around her eyes. A couple blinks produces beads of tears that fall along her cheek and land in the sink. She can feel a flood breaking through her defensive walls, but this isn't the time or place. The flood recedes back into her heart with the promise that it will be released later, at home, in private. Elliot's words are harsh, but they matter little to nothing compared to everything Olivia. This was a night she planned for while they were apart. This was supposed to be the night she confesses to Olivia, confesses her love.

She dabs her eyes and cheeks carefully with a piece of toilet paper, careful not to smear her make up. In her mind she thanks the hotel designer for the dim lighting and then forces her way out of the bathroom- and into the frying pan.

"How nice of you to return," Elliot remarks before she even sits in her chair.

"Off drinking with the judges?" he laughs.

"I don't drink Elliot," she throws back quickly, "and according to last year's Christmas Party, you shouldn't either."

Olivia snorts; Alex smiles and Elliot kicks underneath the table. It's violent, and childish, and brings the gathering to an all-time low. After another awkward silence, Alex searches for Olivia's attention, and smiles when Olivia offers it while trying to conceal her own. It's as if a ray of warm sun light touches every pore of Alex's body.

Elliot squeezes his hand into a fist quite noticeably, and in the two seconds she looks away and looks back, Olivia's expression has changed from light and humorous, to a shade of sadness.

Damn him, Alex thinks, he's a child, but she shouldn't blame herself for his pathetic attitude.

"I'm getting another drink. Olivia, would you like something?"

"I'll go with you," she replies to everyone's surprise.