Disclaimer: This is strictly a work of fiction, written around characters I could never hope to own. They belong to NBC/Dick Wolf and company.
This was not set at any particular point in the SVU storyline but rather illustrates a difference in POV.
Untouchable
Olivia's POV
That was the first word that came to mind when I thought of her. Untouchable. Cool, aloof, guarded, incredibly intelligent, achingly beautiful.... but in the end untouchable.
I watched her from afar and enjoyed igniting her passion for justice, baiting her sense of right and wrong from within the confines of the law. I almost lived to put a flush on those pale cheeks and enjoyed, too much and too often, barbing her calculated wit. I knew she watched me, studied me as I studied her. Each of us caught in a balancing act of sly looks and unfettered observations. I wonder what she saw when she looked at me. I'm too honest not to admit that I know I'm easy on the eyes, but I don't hold a candle to what she has... classic beauty, bred beauty... the kind that comes from a privileged existence, a world filled with black and white and no room for gray.
Her voice captivates me as I find myself back in court for the 5th, or was it 6th, time this week. I try and tell myself that I am just dedicated to seeing my cases through but that line of bullshit is too hard to swallow. I know why I'm here and it is the same reason why I shouldn't be. We work too closely for me to sustain the enamorant, but I can't get her off my mind. She walks as if she owns this court, argues as if she knows she's won and has the jury eating out of her hand in no time. I almost feel sorry for the defense... almost. Another closing argument, another guilty verdict - did I mention her tenacity has more than tripled our conviction rate? I watch her gather her files, speaking soft instruction to the lesser man who occupies the second chair - she almost seems too young to have so many lackeys. My focus shifted to the memory of past interactions makes me miss her next move until she is almost upon me and the next I know I am staring up into an intense blue gaze returning the usual standard greeting "Hi"
Alex's POV
Her startled gaze amuses me, and I find myself smirking at her recovery. One of my best detectives and yet she is clueless as to the tension that surrounds the air we share. Or maybe not. I would never swear to it under oath but at times it seems as though she can't pull her eyes away from mine. Sometimes I will catch her staring at me as though she can cut through my facade and is trying to piece together the real me. And sometimes I catch that spark of unwanted desire in those deep warm brown eyes. And then I convince myself such a spark was imagined because there is no possible way that this woman wants me. I shouldn't want her. If we ever cut through the bullshit and act on what we feel my political aspirations are over.
I know I could count on her discretion, it's my own that I fear. It seems this dam I've built to hold up my pent up need can only take so much and even now, only mere minutes in her presence has caused those fissure cracks to form as my mind races with images and fanatical thoughts involving her and me in compromising unclothed positions in equally compromising places. Take this courtroom for instance. I wonder what the judge would think if I hauled Olivia Benson up from her chair and proceeded to enter into evidence the facts of my desire by stripping her of her civil rights and her form fitting clothes.
The thought sends a smile to my face as I inform the woman in question that today is a day for celebration. I'm on a 7 case winning streak and my conviction rating is loving it - not to mention it makes my bureau chief look outstanding to the higher ups. I respect Liz but damn if that woman isn't infuriating. This range of thought is driven home by the buzz of my phone, of course its Liz and of course I can see another chance at getting to know an Olivia Benson outside of work going swiftly down the tubes. I answer my voice cool and clipped and accept the congratulations - not even bothering to inquire as to how she found out so quickly. Liz has more connections than our fair city's subway system and knows more closet skeletons than the ME. Thankfully she is only calling to congratulate and amazingly enough she has ordered me to take a day off - maybe I will get that chance if the city would be so inclined to not rape, torture or pillage any special victims for the rest of the day. I wish I could be so lucky.
Olivia's POV
Her clipped conversation intrigues me, as does her challenge to join her for celebration. We have celebrated with my squad several times but never alone - is that amusement in her eyes? I feel my own narrow as shapely lips curve upwards in what I can only describe as a cocky smirk - were serious politically driven ADAs allowed to carry one of those? I stand, closing the space between us, verbally agreeing to her proposed celebration and offering for her to lead the way. Wordlessly she complies and I fall into step behind her admiring the view while I can.
Alcohol.
Fuel for what ails the tirelessly driven, overworked, underpaid masses that make this city what it is. Fuel for a celebrating lawyer and a brooding detective, fuel for loose conversation and liquid courage for even looser actions.
I don't find it surprising that we are at another bar - more uptown, more upscale - clearly her choice by the lack of beat cops and copious pitchers of draft beer that line the tables of my usual dives. She is drinking a straight scotch, double or nothing on the rocks - a drink more suited to loss rather than victory. I stick with beer knowing that anything else will cloud my judgment enough to do more than silently appreciate the slender toned body that is pressed so deliciously against my side - the crowdedness of our atmosphere pushing us closer together than we have ever been. One scotch turns into two, two into three - my beer magically withstands this mystical duplication as I determinately refuse to intoxicate myself in her presence as she waxes eloquent her previous wins, giving herself a well earned, I am sure, pat on the back.
Alex's POV
Her silence in this situation is infuriating, almost as much as the way she has nursed one beer whist I have been sucking down scotch like a baby. I thought this was a celebration for crying out loud. I know she feels me, how can she not... we are thigh to thigh, hip to hip in this crowded dive I chose - how dare she remain so calm and aloof with me when we both know that she wants to bury herself in the task of pleasing me. I instruct the bartender to fetch my detective another beer - surprised that I let the term slip. I catch the quirk of one elegant eyebrow and match the look with one of my own, daring her to comment.
I reach over, taking the bottle from her loosened grip and down the remaining contents in one long sure swallow. I fight the urge to make a face as the warm bitter liquid courses down my throat... she has obviously allowed this drink to sit for far too long. I study her unabashed in my alcohol haze. I know I'm teetering on the edge of a total loss of control and the lust pounding through my veins is becoming harder and harder to ignore. One good thing about over consumption - it can be blamed for lots of things... things like an errant hand that serendipitously slips from the bar, landing and staying on a tones denim clad thigh or a heated staring contest ending with my gaze focused on full lips.... I will so blame this on the alcohol.
Olivia's POV
She is drunk! I almost can't believe it even though I have personally witnessed the staggering amount of hard liquor she has poured into her slender frame.... she has obviously been practicing with the higher ups - always an opportunist. I jerk when I feel her hand on my thigh and fight the urge to scoot forward in order to force that warm intrusion closer to a different source of heat. One touch and my heart rate is out of control... one touch - innocent enough - has me soaked and I fight the urge to groan and commit the social faux pas of making a pass at Alexandra fucking Cabot. I take a long drink from the second beer of the evening. It would be so easy to keep drinking and keep her drinking till both of us are past the point of oblivion and I can no longer hold back my longing for her.
I rake my hand through my short hair and stand up, letting that teasing touch fall away to gravity's pull. I peel a couple of bills from my money clip - enough to cover her tab and mine. She tries to stop me but I hold out, this was a celebration right? So it made sense for me to pay. I watch her shrug and toss back the last of her drink as she links arms with me her breath against my ear - low, warm and huskily dangerous.
"Your place or mine detective?"
Jesus, did she just say what I think she did? I'm in shock and before I can reply I feel her fingers intertwining with mine, her firm breasts against my arm - the touch shocking my into further silence. I have to say no to this... though who knows if I will ever get a second bite at the apple this gorgeous woman is throwing me. Am I crazy? No, and I still have to work with this woman when things are said and done with - and I can't be sure that it's not just the scotch talking.
Alex's POV
Maybe I have misread the looks she has given me. I am practically offering myself up on a silver platter and... nothing. The cool night air hits me, cooling my flushed cheeks and knocking a sudden sense of sobriety in me. I shake my head slightly and watch as she hails a cab. God she is beautiful no matter what she is doing and all I can think is that if I am not going to get laid - I at least deserve a proper kiss goodnight.
Olivia's POV
I see the look in her eyes as she leans towards me, eyes warm and dark with desire, closing as she nears and I feel her hands clutching my hips. Regretfully I turn at the last minute feeling the press of lips I have only fantasized about fall against the side of my mouth. I barely stop my tongue from darting out to take a taste. I watch as she pulls back, desire quickly morphing into shock then disbelief and then rage and I feel my head jerked to the side as her strong slender hand slaps me.
I cover my cheek and stare in shock as the DA's ice princess growls, her voice low - dangerous as she calls me a fucking jerk before ducking into the cab I have retrieved for her and peeling off into the brightly lit city.
Alex's POV
How dare she! How dare she turn away from me? How could she... I know I am irresistible and dammit I know she wants me. I find myself slowly smiling as I reconstruct the previous scene in my mind. How horrible that must have looked from john q public's pov... an act of chivalry, a rejected advance followed by a public insult and partial assault. My smile parted slowly as laughter bubbles from my lips. God I am so never going to live this down. I notice the glance from the front seat and fight the urge to flip Mr. Nosey the finger... he is probably thinking he has picked up a complete loon... and right now, that term might be accurate - I cannot believe I allowed myself to be the horny drunk. Forgiveness is a given with Olivia but things are still going to be awkward the next time we meet.
Olivia's POV
I lean my head back slowly, resting my still damp hair against the cool fabric of my couch. What a night! Having worked out some of my tension in the shower I feel only marginally better - but I am still in shock at my ADA's actions. I wanted so badly to have let it happen... but somehow... I respect her too much to subject her to what would probably be a one night stand... hell how much of tonight was her and how much was the liquor. I can't even be sure she likes women much less me... I could have just been the nearest outlet for residual drunken lust... who knows. I am going to beat myself up about this I know.
My mind takes me back to the near miss on the sidewalk, and when I concentrate on it hard enough I can still feel the ghost of her firm lips pressing against my skin. The welcome memory invokes a shuddered jerk combines with the gush of liquid heat that escapes my clenched thighs and I groan in renewed frustration... god if we ever do fuck... I won't last 2 minutes.
This new case is slowly working to drive me insane... no... wait... the cause of my insanity has nothing to do with this case, or any other case. It rests solely on the shoulders of one ADA Cabot. It's been 3 weeks since our little episode - we talked the morning after, conversation was incredibly awkward as the forceful blonde plowed away a variety of apologies that ranged from " sorry for the overconsumption" to "forgive me for slapping you" to " it's just as well you moved you couldn't have handled it anyways."
The last wasn't really an apology but it has stayed with me... just what the hell is she implying... it confuses me to think that this blonde goddess might want me too, the very idea is crazy but ever since then her skirts seem to get shorter, tighter... her blouses seem to be more low-cut or seem to be missing a few buttons. Her heels seem higher and her eyes have taken on this strange twinkle that makes me wonder what she could be thinking. It's enough to drive anyone mad.
Alex's POV
Hmmm.... these past few weeks have been enjoyable to say the least. I do truly regret the way I acted that night but I've gotten my confirmation - she does want me and I have taken the initiative to show her the interest is mutual. It is almost a game I play as soon as I wake up... how to get under detective Bensons skin. So far it seems to be working... I've noticed her eyes travelling up my legs when I wear a skirt that is almost too short to be professional. The quick dart of those clever brown eyes as she struggles to keep them locked on mine and not the tantalizing peep show I have arranged just for her. I have even suffered entire days in 4 inch heels just to fuck with her head... and yet she continues to hold back. For a detective she is either not picking up what I'm putting down or she is stubbornly ignoring it... my ego chooses the latter of course. I have even tried invading her personal space - sitting exclusively on her desk, standing next to her or directly across so that she knows that I am looking. I guess a more direct approach will simply have to do but this time minus the alcohol - I am just going to have to take the plunge and act on my gut instinct instead of the hard evidence... because at this point... my gut is all I have to go on... the rest is simply circumstantial.
I've imagined the different ways this can go down and I've played each one over and over in my head. I know there exists a slim chance she will run away or pull back but in most of my scenarios one of us gets pinned to a wall or a desk and that ending would suit me just fine. She keeps avoiding me and to do this we need to be alone - I've no desire to complicate things by throwing either of our desires out there for the world to see.
Olivia's POV
She is up to something, I'm not sure what but it involves me. Invitations that used to come once in a blue moon now seem daily. Invites to lunches, dinners, movies, coffee... before that near miss I would have agreed to every one of them, just for the chance to be near her. What the hell am I so afraid of? I do want this woman and yet I am running scared at the idea that she might want me too. Maybe there was some truth to her offhanded statement about my inability to handle a kiss from her.
The whole idea seems ludicrous and for a moment the realization that Alexandra Cabot has me running scared is humbling. So what if we kiss... it won't mean anything anyways. So I break tradition and I ask her to meet me for coffee, amused by the enthusiasm in which she accepts my request - as if I've made her day. It's sweet almost... and for a moment I can forget the sexual tension that surrounds us and simply look forward to sharing her intriguing company.
Alex's POV
She sought me out this time, surprising - unexpected and just when I was considering her a lost cause. Coffee is perfect and I am surprised when she chooses the cafe just three blocks from her apartment - maybe I am not the only one with plans and something to say. If I stop over analyzing the situation maybe I can get some of this work done so I don't have to work later than anticipated.
Olivia's POV
It's late. I had to reschedule the time twice already but one advantage of meeting a co-worker is that they can relate and understand the demands of your job and Alex assured me that my responsibilities only allowed her more time to work on and complete her own. But now we are here and the cafe might as well be deserted and I couldn't be having a more enjoyable time. Once the serious facades are dropped we really do share a rather jovial attitude. She entertains me with stories of her time in Harvard law and I in turn tell her of some of the more interesting cases I have caught and the practical jokes we detectives love to play. We drink one cup and then two and before I know it we are being kicked to the curb because they need to close. I look into cobalt eyes, losing myself as I feel as close to her as I do to Elliot. I hesitate for a moment, remembering why it's been so long since we have hung out and remembering my blasé attitude about what could happen, before throwing caution to the wind and invite her back to my place.
Alex's POV
We walk in comfortable silence, side by side, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I wonder what hers might be because mine are nothing worth sharing and it takes a colossal effort to divert my eyes from the body of the woman I long to explore. Perhaps her unattainability is her appeal... all I know is that this night is going as planned and I've done nothing to plan it. Your neighborhood looks rough, but I feel safe when I am with you. Your building isn't new but your apartment has always been well maintained. I discard my long coat surprised when you take it - who said chivalry was dead. I stand, unsure of where I need to go until you tell me to take a seat and I take the one that will put me closest to you.
Olivia's POV
I return, amused to see that you have placed yourself in the middle of my couch. I take a seat next to you, fighting the involuntary shudder as the worn couch's weak cushions give way to our opposing weights, sliding our bodies together - we are thigh to thigh, hip to hip and in the back of my mind I know I am a fool to stop this... and so I don't. I initiate.
Alex's POV
Those dark eyes are too easy to drown in and I can't find my way to the light. I tense when I feel your strong hand on my thigh, your other in my hair and I gasp as you jerk my head back, your mouth hot and insistent against the curved angle of my exposed throat. You tip my head forward enough to taste my lower lip and I moan when you press your lips fully to mine, your smooth tongue gliding right past my parted lips. I was right... you do taste as good as you look... dark, sensual and dangerous. I moan and pull you closer but you back away... a warning in your gaze but I can't hold back. I reach for you again, pulling your body on top, our lips pressing together once again and now we are breast to breast our thighs slipping and sliding upwards to press and grind a more sensitive area then our knees.
Olivia's POV
I've lost all control just as I knew I would if I ever tasted you. I backed away to give you your last chance to escape and you respond by pulling me on top of you. We wasted the past three weeks and I find out your not as untouchable as I thought you were.
A/N – Interesting enough this was all typed out on my cell phone in between crazy meetings and subsequent breaks and lunches. It also was a bit of a personal challenge at writing in the first person – something I rarely do. I could keep going with it – but for now I just posted it to throw it out there.
