DISCLAIMER - Law & Order: Special Victims Unit and all characters are property of NBC and Dick Wolf.
A/N - This is just a little something that's been in my head for a while. I've read some really great student/teacher stories, but Alex is always the teacher and Olivia is always the student. I figured I'd try and switch up the dynamic, see how it goes. Let me know what you guys think! Enjoy xx (P.S. my computer has been fucking ridic tonight, so I actually had to type this whole thing up twice. I proof read it the first time, but if there are any typos and shit, my apologies. I'll correct them later lol)
-Chapter 1-
Alexandra is just not in the mood. First day of senior year and already, the thought of going back to school is just too much to bear.
The summer had been good but uneventful. Alex spent weekdays working at the upscale Italian bistro her sister-in-law owned, even though, legally, she was too young to serve alcohol. And she would definitely need to work off the extra pasta weight at volleyball practice.
Weekends were spent with her best friend, Arizona, the only person who really understood what it meant to be Alex Cabot. Arizona had grown up in much the same way as Alex, right down the street in fact, on a quiet little cul-de-sac lined with mansions in Beacon Hill. Coming out parties, cotillion balls, and shaking countless hands with the upper echelon of Boston society was just the norm for two girls growing up in the political spotlight. Arizona lived through it all right by Alex's side, detested the whole unfortunate situation, and was just as thankful to escape to Rhode Island for boarding school as Alex. And the weekends during the summer, the weekends, were for drinking. Lots and lots of drinking. Tequila, in particular.
But this school year would be decidedly different. Junior year, Alex had sat through Creative Writing I with the incomparable Ms. Benson. Gorgeous, brilliant, sexy as hell Ms. Benson. It had been a wonderful stroke of luck that Alex and Arizona were placed in the only section of that class that the beautiful brunette taught, taking a break from her usual schedule of AP English Lit, rather than being assigned to old Mr. Mitchell's class. He smelled like corned beef and gym socks and had the tendency to quote Hemingway through an entire class while simultaneously spitting on nearby students. And while the placement should have been awesome, it ended up torturing Alex. She was an excellent writer, creative and otherwise, but Ms. Benson, with her 36 C's (Alex imagined), made it absolutely impossible to concentrate.
This year, Alex and Arizona were in Creative Writing II, automatically assigned to Ms. Benson's class. On top of that, Ms. Benson was now the head volleyball coach. Senior year was officially going to kill Alex.
Bring on the tequila.
xx
Truth be told, Olivia didn't know a damn thing about creative writing. But it looked good on resumes, right? When the previous teacher, Mrs. Johnson, decided to leave teaching and raise her kids as a stay-at-home mom, Olivia jumped at the chance to branch out in her educational pursuits. If she ever wanted to teach at an Ivy League, she had to have the experience to back it up. The Portsmouth Abbey School was the first step, and showing that she was flexible and well-rounded as an educator was the second step.
It had been easy at first. Teach the kids how to write some poetry, read a few selections here and there from Frost and Keats and Poe, hand out assignments. Piece of cake, right? What Olivia hadn't counted on, however, was the tall blonde with legs for days and piercing blue eyes sitting front and center. She usually kept those eyes covered behind glasses, but damn if those glasses weren't sexy as hell. Olivia had to avert her gaze for the majority of 3rd period just so she could get through the hour. And it really didn't help that this girl, this wonderful girl, was one of the most intelligent students she had ever taught. Witty, insightful, sarcastic, well-mannered. Why did she have to be 17? Why did Olivia have to be 25?
First things first: Coffee, check. Reading materials, check. Class roster, check. Volleyball roster, check.
Shit… Olivia thought to herself as she glanced down at the list of girls on her team this year. Alexandra fucking Cabot. How hadn't she known that Alex played volleyball? She went to one of the games last year against a team from Connecticut, just to gauge how well the girls played, and would damn well have remembered seeing her favorite student on the court.
"Damn," Olivia mumbled, "that was around the time she came to school with her ankle wrapped up. She must have missed that game…" she chewed on the cap of her pen and wondered silently how she was going to make it through the school year without being handcuffed.
xx
"So how's everything going, Al? I feel like I don't even know you anymore," the shorter blonde joked as she gently looped her arm through her best friend's. Alex and Arizona shared a lot of the same features: long blonde hair, bright blue eyes, full lips. But the two girls could not look or act more different. While Alex was all sculpted cheekbones and sophisticated grace, Arizona was soft edges and bubbly energy. They were one another's perfect compliment. Yin and yang. Heads and tails. PB&J.
"I know, I know…" Alex trailed off as she ran a hand through messy waves. Practice had just gotten out, and that only meant one thing on a Friday night in Portsmouth: margaritas by the shore. As the girls walked into the liquor store, they gave a small nod to the guy behind the counter, Frankie. He was actually pretty attractive, in that Good Will Hunting wrong-side-of-the-tracks kind of way, and was probably only a few years older than them. And of course, one of the best things about having influential parents is that Frankie at 5 O'Clock Liquor doesn't care that you're not actually 21 years old.
"You know how it is, AZ." Alex had been calling Arizona by her state initials for as long as she could remember. "AP Calc, AP Bio, AP World History, Shakespeare, French IV… the only fun things I have this semester are volleyball and Creative Writing, and that even fucking sucks since I can't concentrate half the time anyway." Alex handed a $50 bill to Frankie and the girls left the liquor store with Patron, Cointreau, and lime juice stowed safely away in their backpacks.
"Yeah dude, how's that going by the way? Any recent developments in the completely inappropriate crush department, or just business as usual?"
"Business as usual unfortunately. Fortunately? I don't even know anymore. I just can't stop thinking about her naked and on top of me!" Alex let out a frustrated sigh and Arizona slapped her ass playfully. "Jesus fucking christ, that's the most action I've gotten in months."
"Ya know Al, sophisticated and cultured as you are," Arizona used airquotes, "you are the biggest scumbag I've ever met in my life."
"Back at ya," she smirked as she laid her gym towel down in the sand.
Arizona took the metal cocktail shaker out of her backpack and started mixing up the ingredients, pouring the liquid into two tervis tumblers. If anyone asked, they were just drinking Gatorade, right? "Hey, Al? Do you think we drink too much?" Arizona asked after taking a long sip from her drink.
"What is too much really, though? When your parents don't mind being away from you for an entire school year, and you're taking a full load of college level courses, and you're closeted lesbians who aren't getting laid? It's all relative," she mused while staring off into the ocean, the sunset and cool breeze helping to calm her racing mind.
"I'll cheers to that, my friend."
xx
Two months into the school year, and Olivia was regretting more than ever her decision to take on the coaching position. It was amazing and rewarding 75% of the time, maybe even more so than teaching. It was such a thrill to be back on the court again, to know that her college days as a superstar setter weren't that far behind her. And helping these wonderful girls excel at their sport was just icing on the cake. The team had won the New England Girls Volleyball Tournament the last three years in a row, and judging by how focused they were in practice as well as games, this year would be no different. Their outside hitter, #22, definitely had a lot to do with it. Truly a force to be reckoned with, Alex continued to impress Olivia more and more each day. But that's where the 25% kicked in.
"Alright girls, nice practice!" Olivia yelled out to her team as they all slapped hands and jogged to the locker room. "I'll see you guys Monday after school. Liz, remind me to help you with your jump shot. And Brit, you better not forget what I said about Physics! Pass that test or you're benched indefinitely!" Olivia walked over to the bleachers to grab a drink of water, not really paying attention, and slammed right into her star player. Blue eyes met brown for a moment and Olivia's heart fluttered.
"Oh, uh- sorry Coach," Alex stammered as her cheeks flushed.
"No worries, Cabot. I really need to watch where I'm walking," Olivia giggled. Did Alex hear that right? She giggled? It was the cutest thing she had seen all week. "Hey by the way," Olivia wondered as she took a drink from her water bottle, "are you planning on playing in college?"
"Oh, well, yeah I guess. But I don't know if I'll be able to handle academics and volleyball at the same time."
"What's to handle? I did both in college, and you're definitely smarter than I am."
Alex let a slight blush creep across her cheeks at the compliment. "Hardly, but thank you, Coach."
"Cabot, when we're not in the classroom and we're not running drills, just call me Olivia, okay?"
"Okay… Olivia." Alex's stomach did somersaults. "But the problem is that I really wanna ago to Harvard. And while I may be more intelligent than most of the dumb shits at this school, I don't really think the course load at Harvard will allow for a lot of free time."
"Fair enough," Olivia said, capping her water bottle. "Have a good weekend, Alexandra," she smiled at the blonde. A hug would be inappropriate, right? Right.
"You too, Olivia," Alex chuckled.
xx
Friday night again. Alex couldn't get her mind off the exchange between her and Ms. Benson all afternoon. It's almost like Ms. Be- Olivia seemed… flirtatious? No, that couldn't be right. There's no way in hell that Olivia, gay or straight, would want to be with me, Alex thought as she put on her mascara.
It wasn't just any Friday night though. Tonight was Alex's 18th birthday, and Arizona would be damned if she let her best friend spend the holy grail of birthdays drinking out of tumblers on a beach in Rhode Island. Arizona didn't tell Alex where they were going, just to throw on some heels, put on some goddamn makeup for a change, and pack an overnight bag.
The girls hopped in Arizona's black Audi R8 convertible and headed toward I-95. "Can you please at least tell me how far this is gonna be, you jackass? I'd really like to get comfy if necessary, and you know how I feel about stilettos in cars."
"Can you just calm down you fucking weirdo? Take off your heels, turn up the music, and relax that pretty head of yours. It's your goddamn birthday and we're in this one for the long haul," Arizona smiled as she opened up the top and let the cool October air whip through blonde tresses.
Alex did as instructed, tossing her Choos into the back seat and cranking up the volume.
The deep beat surrounded them, enveloped them, as they swayed side to side and let the music put them both in a trance.
Be the ocean where I unravel
Be my only, be the water where I'm wading
You're my river running high
Run deep, run wild
I I follow I follow you
Deep deep baby, I follow you
I I follow I follow you
Dark doom honey, I follow you
xx
Olivia was actually, finally, letting loose. Teaching and coaching obviously were very fulfilling, but it was nice to just be out on the town with adults for a change. It had been a long ride, but the vintage Mustang had been good to her on the three hour drive from Portsmouth to Manhattan, and it had been far too long since she had seen her best friend and college roommate. But now that Callie had left Seattle and moved back to New York, a reunion was definitely on the top of the to-do list.
They danced seductively to the music, a good mix of Santigold and Armin van Buuren and Zedd, so comfortable together and always trusting the other. Experimentation in college had taken place, of course, but they both knew they were always destined to be sisters rather than lovers. Olivia really needed a break, so she mimed drink and headed over to the massive marble topped bar, leaving Callie on the dance floor in her own little world.
"Ketel and soda with a lime," Olivia yelled at the bartender. She was silently wondering if this whole club scene was almost too much for her, the loud music and sweaty bodies, the ripe age of 25 not doing her any favors at the moment. She handed the bartender a $10 bill and sipped on her drink for a minute, looking to her right and noticing the most spectacular pair of legs she had ever seen. Sculpted calves and lightly muscled thighs were well on display in a tiny little emerald green dress, thin straps criss-crossing up the back and warm blonde hair cascading over pale shoulders. As the girl went to turn around, Olivia said a silent prayer. Please be pretty please be pretty.
The blonde gestured to the bartender for another drink, and as her head turned, Olivia's breath hitched and she almost choked on her vodka. Glasses off, makeup highlighting every single feature perfectly, and those blue eyes, eyes she always feared she might lose herself in, staring back at her.
They both just stared for a minute. Olivia was in rare form tonight as well, trading her sensible button downs and flats for a black Herve Leger bandage dress and sky-high Louboutins that she had spent a month's salary on. Her hair was tousled into a loose chignon on top of her head, her skin was glowing and bronze, and the entirety of her cleavage was on full display. She almost thought she saw a little string of drool drip from Alex's mouth as the younger woman just kept staring. Olivia had to be the adult, she supposed, and went up to her student to say hello.
"Well well well, I certainly didn't expect to see you here, Alexandra," she smirked. "And Ms. Robbins! What a surprise! You both look gorgeous tonight. But aren't you a little young to be in here? And um… drinking what I'm assuming isn't sprite?"
"Well actually, Ms. Benson," Arizona started, "there is definitely sprite in this drink, I just can't actually taste very much of it." She made a face, chuckled, and slapped Alex on the ass, effectively pulling her friend out of her stupor. "By the way, Ms. Benson, your tits look fantastic in that dress."
"Oh my god, ignore her!" Alex finally burst out, placing a hand over Arizona's mouth. "We actually know the owners so they don't give us a hard time, and the bouncers never card us," Alex told her teacher, trying but failing miserably not to look at the two beautiful mounds under that black dress.
"Oh and Ms. Benson! It's Alex's birthday!" Arizona practically shouted when Alex finally took her hand away. "She's 18! Can you believe it? My little girl is growing up so fast," she gazed mock-adoringly at Alex. Alex just laughed and shook her head.
"Well as long as you two aren't driving, I guess I'll stop being all responsible and just enjoy the fact that you're here," Olivia said to the girls, never taking her eyes off of Alex's. "My best friend is actually here, she's out dancing. See the sexy brunette in the red dress?" she asked, pointing in Callie's direction.
"Holy fucking shit," Arizona gasped. "That's your friend? Is she taking girlfriend applications? Because I have super references."
Olivia giggled, that giggle that made Alex weak in the knees. "Let's go dance, young ones."
xx
After dancing for over an hour, as couples, as a group, and even solo on occasion, Alex and Olivia decided it was time for another break. They found a secluded corner with a plush little wraparound booth and a bottle of champagne on the table.
"Alex, wait, this says it's reserved."
"Yeah, I know," Alex smirked. "It's reserved for me."
"Let me get this straight," Olivia started as she sat down and poured two glasses. "Not only are you allowed in here, allowed to drink no less, but you're also VIP? Whose dick are you sucking?"
Alex burst out in laughter, the unexpected vulgarity catching her off guard. "Well actually, if you must know, I've only done that once before. Andy Ayers in 10th grade. I didn't really care for it much."
"Andy Ayers? You're kidding me. Star of the lacrosse team, Portsmouth Abbey's golden boy?"
"Yep. He came in like 30 seconds and it just wasn't my idea of a good time. Such a waste of a pretty face, really." They both laughed so hard the champagne almost came out of their noses.
"Oh my god, you're just full of surprises, Ms. Cabot."
"Hey now! If we can't use formal titles out of the classroom and off the court, then we sure as hell can't use them when we're drinking champagne in Manhattan. VIP, no less." The two women stared at each other for a while, enjoying both the comfort and the company. "Looks like Arizona is really into your friend," Alex pointed out, motioning to the dance floor and the blonde and brunette, very conspicuously grinding on one another.
"Callie sure does like 'em younger. Arizona is 18 though, right?"
"Indeed. Her birthday was the second day of school."
"Good, so the furry handcuffs she brought just in case will be for good use rather than jail."
"Furry handcuffs, huh? AZ will definitely be into that."
"I'm just glad I'm not the only one trying to get lucky tonight," Olivia said before she drained the last of her champagne, mentally kicking herself in the ass for letting that bomb slip but trying her best to act nonchalant.
"Oh yeah?" Alex teased. "So who's the lucky guy gonna be? There's a cute group over in the corner who've been staring in our direction for the last 20 minutes. They might be a little old for you, but fuck it, we're in New York City."
"That's not really what I had in mind, Alex," Olivia laughed, "but thanks for being my wingman, I think."
"Well okay, then what's your type? I'm sure we can find a decent suitor in this mass of bodies."
"Alex… I really shouldn't be discussing this with you." Olivia tried, so very hard, to get the hell off this topic.
"Oh come on, Liv. Just tell me!" Alex nudged the older woman.
Did she just call me Liv? Ahh, fuck…
"Fine, fine. Jesus, I need another drink for this conversation," Olivia relented, pouring her and Alex the last of the Dom Perignon. "Well, generally I prefer about 5'10", blonde hair and blue eyes for sure. And glasses are always a plus, too. I just think they're sexy, ya know?"
"Wow, 5'10" really? But you're like 5'9" or so, right? Wouldn't you want a guy who's taller?" Alex asked while sipping from her glass.
"Well for a guy, I suppose taller would be good. But…"
"Oh my god, you're not looking for a guy, are you?" Alex asked cautiously with a hint of disbelief in her voice.
"Not so much."
"Well… okay then." Fuck my life, Alex thought to herself. "So 5'10", blonde hair, blue eyes, glasses…" Alex repeated while searching the crowd. After a few seconds her roaming eyes came to a dead stop and she ceased the search, mentally actually dying. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. "Um, Olivia? I don't think you need to search very far for what you're looking for," she blushed, not making eye contact.
"I think you are correct, Alexandra. My perfect girl is sitting right next to me." She looked Alex straight on, daring her to look back. Finally blue eyes locked on brown, emotion and lust and need threatening to consume them both.
"Liv… we can't really… can we?" Olivia had never seen Alex look more vulnerable or more beautiful, so unsure of how this might be possible.
"Al, we're in New York City, as you said. I trust you. I know how much you respect me as your teacher and as your coach, and I know you would never tell a soul. And I know I am completely taking advantage of my position as an authority figure here. But when you walked into my class last year, I was sure I had never seen someone so beautiful. And then I got to know you. You're brilliant, Alexandra. You're so smart and funny and mature. And you're such a talented, dedicated athlete. I've never met anyone so amazing."
"You- you think I'm amazing?" Alex asked, bewildered beyond belief. How could Ms. Benson, perfect Ms. Benson, think she was amazing? She could have her pick of any red-blooded human in the entire United States, and she wanted Alex? She was having trouble making eye contact again.
"Alex, look at me." Olivia gently pulled Alex's chin up so that they were focusing only on each other. "I think you are absolutely perfect." She stared into deep blue pools, and with shaking hands, pulled Alex in closer. Their lips met in a soft, chaste kiss that sent shivers down Alex's spine. She could feel Olivia's hands shaking and grabbed them in her own, steadying the brunette. When they pulled apart, neither woman could find the right words to describe what had just happened. The only thing they could think to do was that. Again.
This time, the kiss was hungry, passionate. Alex opened her mouth and felt Olivia's tongue tangle with her own, light gasps and hands tangling in hair, hands roaming, searching, discovering. Alex's skin was even softer than Olivia had imagined, and as Alex's hands worked their way up from legs to hips to breasts, she thought her head might explode. Alex's fingers stroked lightly against the material of Olivia's dress, finding the hardened nubs that were straining against the fabric, and thank god they were sitting down because Olivia was quite sure she wouldn't be able to walk right now. Alex broke apart from the kiss to whisper huskily in Olivia's ear. "You are so fucking sexy, Liv."
"Fuck, Alex…"
"Do you wanna get out of here?"
"When in Rome, Alexandra."