And This… Is Alex Cabot
By
Kelsey
Disclaimer: Not mine. Though I might treat her better.
Author's Note: I haven't written SVU in ages, because I loved Alex. But I was watching an SVU music video, and this just came to me. Inspired by "I Hope You Dance," a music vid by Storm, reachable here: reiMackenzie (remove the spaces).
Summary: Three portraits of Alex Cabot as a woman, a lawyer, and a friend.
Rating: PG
SVU Bureau Chief Elizabeth Donnelly:
Her perfume assaults the senses before she even makes it to the doorway. As I understand it, Alexandra comes from a family of extremely successful corporate lawyers, and has mortally wounded her father by entering the thankless field of the district attorney's office. Despite this, her trust fund and her mother's regular gifts keep her living well above the means of a 28-year old ADA.
She rounds the corner and I raise an eyebrow. "Alexandra. What can I do for you?"
Alexandra doesn't bounce, but she does emit whatever emotion she's feeling like a radiator; you just have to know how to read it. Rage, for instance, makes her go icy cold and fear makes her blanker than a pristine slate. Her excitement usually turns into the fiercely strong determination that radiating off of her right now. Alexandra has an Idea.
"Liz, we can take this case to court." The tone is halfway pleading and halfway ordering as she drops a blue file folder on my desk. I open it to see the picture of the victim of a case I've recently ordered her to drop.
"No." Blunt often works best with Alexandra, after all, it is her main method of communication. Extremely socially adept as she is, Alexandra mostly chooses to say what she means, without prevarication.
"But we have a witness that swears he saw Adam Greyson fleeing the scene!"
"And we both know that unless the victim ID's him, that's useless." Something is up with this case. Alex likes to try cases on the razor's edge, but this one is worse than razor's edge.
"Samantha Carlson was drunk and exhausted. Of course she couldn't positively ID him, but she gave a description that fits his, and Greyson was seen fleeing the scene five minutes before she placed the 911 call!" The determination is mixing with anger, and this exhibits by causing her to straighten her spine, fix her eyes on mine, and look down her nose at me. Once aristocracy, always aristocracy. Even if it's only lawyer-aristocracy.
"Alexandra, we are not taking this case to trial."
"Greyson needs to pay!"
"No, Alexandra." She looks about fourteen now, glaring at me. She's abandoned the look down her nose and is resting her weight mostly on her right foot like she wants to stomp the other one. I imagine Alexandra did a lot of foot-stomping as a child.
"But-"
"NO!"
She turns on her heel and disappears out the door, her steps rapid and angry, heels clicking on the linoleum floor that the department is too cheap to replace and thus repairs with endless coats of lacquer.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the star up-and-coming prosecutor of the New York City DA's office.
Judge Lena Petrovsky:
The case facing me is an ordinary one, but the lineup of lawyers on it made me want to groan when I first found it in my docket three days ago. The defense attorney, Alice Binkham, is a highly paid defender whose main tactic is smearing the prosecution. If they put a fingernail out of place, she'll find it, and then harp on it for hours. And the case was SVU, so that meant Alexandra Cabot would be gracing my courtroom with her presence. And if there's anything Ms. Cabot likes less than having 'her' detectives smeared, I don't know what it is.
Ah, well. Better get on with it. Day three won't end until it begins. I rise from my chair and walk into the courtroom, waiting for the appropriate people to say the appropriate things. "-nerable Judge Lena Petrovsky, presiding!"
Right. Let's get started.
And let's not let the judge wake up a little before starting to spew the vitriol, shall we?
"Detective Benson, isn't it true that you tricked my client into giving up his right to a lawyer?"
Olivia Benson is cool as always under the accusation of misconduct. It's only when the defendants start to deny their acts that she gets heated. "Mr. Valentin was read his Miranda rights before we even entered the vehicle at Robinson Park."
"Do you have an witnesses to that? Other than the accompanying officers, I mean."
"No, I believe that Robinson Park was fairly deserted," she replies. "However, there are five sworn statements from the officers that were there."
Binkham is getting nowhere this way, so she begins to press at Olivia's personal life. "Why did you join SVU?"
"Objection!"
"Overruled." Alexandra returns to her seat with a slight frown on her face. There's little harm in this question, and I can't just overrule everything, or I'm being prejudicial. This one is no surprise, and Olivia answers it with aplomb. "Because I wanted to help."
"But you could have helped in say, homicide, or narcotics, couldn't you? Why SVU, Detective?"
Olivia is still calm and answers coolly. "Because sex crimes get less attention."
Ms. Cabot is simmering over in her chair, but waiting for the right moment to object again. She really is a superb lawyer, even if she is more of an idealist than is practical sometimes.
"Wasn't it because your mother was raped?"
"Objection! Irrelevant!" Alexandra's reaction is out of her mouth before Binkham has barely finished her sentence.
"Sustained. Jury will disregard." I wonder where Alice Binkham picked up that juicy tidbit of information?
Olivia steps down from the witness chair moments later, and Alexandra and Binkham try to tear about three different witnesses into pieces. They are both ruthless, though Alexandra at least has some ethics about which questions to ask and which not to. The argument is starting to become snippy remarks at each other, though, and I call them both.
BANG "Counsel will approach the bench," I order.
Alexandra's stride is neat and clipped as she moves tensely to the front of the room, her eyes hard as diamond and cold as ice. Binkham is swaying and smirking a little. "Ladies, this is courtroom, not the sixth grade. If you cannot remain civil, I will declare a mistrial." Binkham smirks a little more. "And I'm sure the DA's office will file the charges again, and you will have to do this all over again." Her smirk fades. "Now-- Ms. Binkham, let's keep the questions within the scope of the case, shall we? And Ms. Cabot…" I trail off, letting her know that I'm warning her in general because I've seen Alexandra Cabot angry, and then I've seen her furious, and I don't want the latter in my courtroom. They both nod curtly, and return to their seats.
Alexandra wins the case, and a cold smile crosses her face as the verdict is read. It makes her look almost inhumanly hard. But an honest little smile touches the sides of her lips as she looks at the victim she's worked so hard for, hugging her family in the back of the courtroom. She gathers her things, drapes her coat over her arm, and walks out in precise, measured steps, heels clicking on the wood.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is both the sharpest wit and most difficult ADA in every New York City Judge's Courtroom.
Detective Olivia Benson:
Cases mostly wrapped up, non-priority interviews scheduled in the morning, and a big one just off the burner and into the fire-- it's time for an SVU celebration. "Elliot!"
He looks up from his paperwork on the desk across the room. "Yeah?"
"Ask Munch and Fin to meet us at O'Malley's in an hour?"
He nods. "Sure. Where are you going?"
"To see if I can get Alex to join us."
Elliot smiles and shakes his head a little. "Good luck."
Alex doesn't usually come with us, but she's been willing to a little more, lately. I'm not sure what it is-- it might be that she finally knows us all well enough, or it might be some kind of personal pact. Alex is stubborn as hell, something that makes her a first-rate prosecutor, but also causes her to do some odd things when she's just too obstinate to give in. Last year, she made a promise to herself to visit the gym every day. Good idea, only Alex doesn't have the time to visit the gym once a week. But she stuck with it, even exhausted, until she came down with pneumonia and the doctor quashed her efforts.
I knock on her door. I know face to face I have a better chance of getting her to go than if I just called, so here I am. "Alex?"
"Come in!" She calls. Good, she doesn't sound incredibly stressed.
I open the door and walk inside. Alex's office is barely large enough to qualify as a closet, but she's proud of it. Paperwork is piled high on every surface available and some that should have been retired ages ago for fear of the entire piles collapsing. I seat myself on the edge of the chair that only barely fits into the room, and wait as Alex finishes reading the end of a brief.
She closes the file and looks up at me. "What can I do for you, Liv?" The tone is somewhere between professional and friendly because she's not sure what I'm here for.
"Come out to O'Malley's with us?" I ask.
She smiles and relaxes, secure in friend-mode. "Decided to celebrate?"
"Yeah. You should come too, you closed the case."
She glances at the paperwork piled on the left side of her desk, then at the high heels she's kicked off under the desk, and then back at me, smiling. "Let's do it."
I grin. "Let's."
Alex looks down at herself. "Just let me change, will you?" I nod, and Alex hangs up the suit coat on a dowel that runs between two walls in the corner of her office. She retrieves a pair of flats from under her desk somewhere, and a winter coat from the same dowel where she hung her suit coat. Lastly, she pulls the pins out of her hair and shakes her head, letting it float around her face. She grins, something that is fairly rare but always guaranteed to light up a room. "All right, I'm ready. Let's go celebrate!"
And this, ladies and gentlemen, is one of the best friends and people that I know.
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