DISCLAIMER - Law & Order: Special Victims Unit and all characters are property of NBC and Dick Wolf.
A/N - I have no idea where the hell I'm going with this story. Suggestions are welcome.
-Chapter 1-
Olivia stared down into her full glass of wine, the deep purple liquid swirling into pretty patterns. It was about the only thing in her whole life that seemed pretty at the moment.
She had obeyed Murphy's orders when he told her to take some time off, but she chose not to go home to Brian tonight. It was all just too much. He would be too clingy, hovering over her like she was broken. Which she was.
Right now, the only thing spinning in her head were Lewis' last words. This is the last thing you're gonna think about before you die… the last thing you're gonna see.
Cool steel touching her temple.
Click. Every time she pulled the trigger, muscles tense.
Her own heartbeat when she realized she was still alive.
Bang. When the game was finally over.
Sticky red splatter covering her face, filling her nose with the smell of iron.
She was alive. She was alive.
But she still couldn't articulate how this made her feel. How this entire situation with Lewis made her feel. And she certainly wasn't ready to talk about it. And definitely not with Brian.
Maybe I should end it… Olivia thought to herself. But was she thinking of ending her relationship, or her career? She didn't even know anymore.
Olivia sipped on her wine, letting the slight acidic tang sweep over her tongue, savoring the nutty aroma. This was all she could do right now.
Sit. Drink. Think.
As much as she wanted the images to go away, begged them to just leave her alone, she knew it would be a process. So tonight was for drinking.
She looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows in the bar, taking in this beautiful city. Spring in Manhattan was always Olivia's favorite, especially in Soho with the quaint cobble-stone streets and grand architecture. Even though this spring was a little late, it was finally warm enough to just wear a sweater. She silently wondered which season it would be when she finally stopped thinking of Lewis.
Her thoughts were ripped from her own personal nightmare when a woman walked in the door. She was tall, probably Olivia's height, but the black patent leather Louboutins and skinny jeans made her seem statuesque, almost regal.
She suddenly felt self-conscious about her own appearance. She had taken three showers at the precinct and put on clean clothes, but her hair was a mess, she had no makeup on, and she was pretty sure that the stress of the day had been forever etched into her features.
Her gaze traveled upward to the well-tailored blazer, lapis pendant hanging by a thin gold chain, simple diamond studs, and then she lost herself. Hair, lips, eyes. Eyes the color of the ocean during summer, so deep it was almost frightening.
The blonde glanced around the room, looking for a place to sit. But at this hour, on a Saturday night, there was only one bar stool open. And it was next to Olivia.
"Hi. Mind if I sit here?" the blonde asked in a friendly tone.
Suddenly shy, Olivia almost whispered in response. "Of course not." She managed to force a small smile.
The bartender came over and offered a cocktail menu, but the woman didn't even look at it. "What are you drinking?"
Olivia was caught off guard. "Oh… me? Just pinot noir. Marcassin, I think it's called? It's from Sonoma."
"Alright, let's get a bottle then."
"Oh, that's very kind of you, but really it's not necess-"
The blonde was smirking as she interrupted the detective. "It's fine, really. This way we don't have to keep calling the bartender over for drinks. He's pretty swamped. And if we don't finish it, I can always just bring it back to my hotel."
The generosity of this stranger washed over Olivia in a flood of gratitude, every emotion seeming to be hyper-sensitive today. She finally showed her new friend a real smile. "Thank you."
The blonde raised her glass and declared "To New York. My very favorite city." The two women clinked and took equally long pulls of their wine. "Goddamn, it's been a long day," the blonde exhaled as she peeled off her blazer and draped it across the back of her barstool.
Olivia chuckled slightly. "You have no idea." Another sip. There was something about this person, something about the angles of her face and the smokey tone of her voice and the way Olivia felt slightly dizzy when she looked straight at her. She had to ask. "What is your name?"
"Alexandra Cabot. Nice to meet you." Alex extended her hand and the detective took it in her own.
"Olivia Benson. It is very nice to meet you."
xx
"So, Olivia. What's your story?"
"Uh… today isn't really the day for me to tell you that." Olivia cast her eyes down into the swirling liquid again. She took a deep breath, willing the evil thoughts away. "Why don't you tell me about yourself. Are you in the city for business?"
"Pleasure, actually. I live in Boston, but my best friend just got married at The Plaza."
"So why are you out by yourself?"
"Because as of five o'clock this afternoon, she was on a plane headed for Tuscany."
"Ah, of course. So what do you do all the way up in Boston?"
"I'm a lawyer."
Olivia smirked. "You said you're a liar?"
"Very funny, Olivia. You must be a stand-up comedian," Alex retorted.
"I'm just kidding. I actually know many lawyers who are decent people. A few not so decent, but I'm sure you're one of the good guys."
"I am, as a matter of fact. I'm a prosecutor for Boston Special Victims."
Olivia sucked in a gasp and almost choked on her wine. "Wow, small world. I'm a detective for Manhattan Special Victims."
"Huh. Small world indeed, detective."
xx
The wine bottle was finally empty, and it was almost midnight. But Olivia just wasn't ready to go home and deal with her shit life.
"How 'bout another bottle, on me?" she asked the attorney.
"Are you trying to get me liquored up so you can take advantage of me?" Alex teased.
Heat spread through Olivia's body at the suggestion, but she decided to play it off. "I promise I'll be a perfect gentleman."
"Ah man, I wish you hadn't said that," Alex teased again.
Is she… flirting with me? Olivia wondered. She was afraid to admit that yes, she hoped she was.
"I have to be honest about something," Alex stated seriously. Olivia's stomach dropped. "I was watching the news at the hotel before I left, and you were kind of all over it. I'm really sorry about what happened to you."
Olivia wanted to vomit. "Oh. Um- thanks. I don't really want to talk about it."
Alex put her hand on Olivia's thigh. "I know, Olivia. I just wanted to let you know."
Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the hand on her leg, a little too high. Maybe it was the pressure of the day that finally drove her crazy. Or maybe it was just the way Alex said her name, so sincere and so perfect. Olivia leaned in and kissed the blonde.
They both pulled away, suddenly aware of what had just happened. They looked at each other for a moment, silently taking stock of the situation. And then Alex leaned in and kissed Olivia back, hard, moving her hand to the detective's hip and tangling the other in silky brown hair.
Olivia didn't know exactly what she was doing, but she felt an overwhelming sense of calm. A feeling she wasn't sure she'd ever know again.