I do not own the characters. No profit made off this set of rambles.
Rated T to M.
Clipped
Chapter One:
I walked into the busy squad room earlier than usual today, and stopped at the coffee pot for my morning cup of java, then strode over to my desk like a woman on a mission. And damnit, I was on a mission. I really needed to sit down before I fell down. My crappy leather chair looked like a throne for a queen, I mentally pointed at myself and thought, this queen here. My partner Elliot and I were up most of last night closing a rape/homicide.
I left the squad a mere three hours ago to shower and change before returning for work today. I didn't dawdle at my apartment or sit down for too long for fear I would pass out asleep and not make it in today. I couldn't take the day off because we have to finish up the paperwork so our ADA, the beautiful ball buster, can finish compiling the case against the perpetrator down in our holding cell, who is awaiting her shipment off to Bedford Hills, the prison facility upstate.
"Hey Liv, don't forget about your hair appointment," Elliot Stabler guffawed, watching me as he reminded me oh so delicately. He is always such a man, I wanted to yell at him but refrained. After all, in his pea-sized brain, he was doing me a favor by reminding me. He always laughs when I decide to do something remotely feminine like getting my hair trimmed or my nails filed. I don't know how his wife and daughters put up with him.
I gave him a one finger wave as I kept on walking towards him and my not so empty desk, glaring directly into his dark but smiling eyes. I set down my hot cup of coffee like it's the long lost gold of the Amazon, careful not to spill a drop, then flicked my shoulders to remove my coat.
"Oww, fuck." I whispered as my chin-length hair abruptly caught on the collar of my black trench coat. Stopping my hasty jacket removal, I reached up and yanked my hair away then shook until my jacket slipped off. The sudden pain reminded me why I made the hair appointment in the first place.
It was three weeks ago today and pouring down rain. Elliot and I got called to a scene early in the evening. My hair acted as a sponge for the sliding cold rain and absorbed so much water I wasn't able to ring it out of the strands fast enough. A resulting head cold three days later helped make my final decision to cut my dark hair short. Long hair really isn't suited for police work anyways, people have told me in the past. I always flipped them off in thanks.
First thing my day back after my cold, I promptly made an appointment at one of the most expensive salons in the city, by referral from the Narcotics Lt. whom was the ex of the owner or some such drama. I sadly only cared about the referral and the quick resulting appointment set for eleven this morning.
As I sat at my desk, stretching out in my chair, I looked at Elliot and said, "Ya know Stabler, we can't all just get a buzz cut for beauties sake." I smiled at him as he scowled.
"Liv, you wouldn't know the inside of a salon if you tried to rob one."
"Ahh, sad but true I'm afraid."
Munch looked over, listening to our conversation and remarked, "Yeah Olivia, how did you get that appointment? Stabler told me you got it super fast and at Razor's Slice, which is like mega wealthy ladies place. I'm saying the regular every week French Tip nails type of ladies."
"Yeah, ladies like our new ADA."
"I called in a favor and don't ask." I shrugged then continued, "How would you know what salon our new ADA frequents. Stalking charges hold for boys in blue too Elliot."
Elliot stared at me as I stared right back, curious over his answer. "I read the society pages, okay. I know the name Cabot and all it entails. Leave it at that. From what I've heard, Razor's Slice is upscale and pretty swanky among NYC socialites. Cabot fit's the description that's all I'm saying." He shrugged and broke our staring contest. I remained looking at him for a few seconds before lowering my gaze to the pile of folders adorning my desk.
The wheels in my head began to turn about ADA Cabot. I've told Elliot I found our new ADA extremely attractive and he kept it in confidence, but he needles me over it whenever he can get away with it. And if it's in front of the others, even better. I resisted the urge to kick his shin under her desk.
I sighed, not feeling like conversing with any of the other detectives lurking in the squad room, and sipped my still hot coffee as I signed my name on the stack of DD5's we, as detectives, are required to have filled out and autographed on schedule. I get behind sometimes and have to scramble to keep up, like today. I write as fast as my fingers will go until the stack of ten became a stack of two. I looked at the clock and noticed the time read almost ten. I downed the rest of my coffee, threw on my trench coat and left the squad room to make the trek to the salon.
A mere forty minutes and seven different ways to say stupid drivers, I arrived at Razor's Slice and parked my car in the parking garage down the block, dropping the thirty bucks per hour it cost me with a slight whimper. I walked into the shop and immediately spotted the receptionist, a punked out woman in her mid-twenties adorned in a very slim fitting navy pantsuit. I gave her my name and the confirmation number I was given, then told to have a seat and wait for my stylist to come and get me.
I glanced around the area, taking note of the expensive plants, cushy chairs, and polished glass tables which all silently screamed wealth. I held in my snort of disbelief because the lady next to me was watching me closely, like one watches a mouse crawling across their living room floor. I shrugged and ignored her glare. A few minutes later, a tall man approached me, I stood up to greet him and he introduced himself as frank, my stylist. I followed him back to the cutting area and tried not to gawk at the size of 'his' cutting station, it was huge and adorned with every utensil known to the stylists world.
"Holy shit" I exclaimed as I let Frank tug me over and sit down in the chair. He settled an apron around my shoulders and spun me back for the purpose of washing my hair. He spoke of the gossip around the salon while his long fingers massaged my scalp and cleaned my hair. I pretty much blocked him out except for when my ears sorted out the name Cabot from his ramblings.
I said, "Excuse me, but what did you say about Cabot?"
"I was only commenting on Alex visiting for the third day in row."
Now he had my full attention. "Alexandra Cabot do you mean?" I asked, holding my breath.
"Yes. Don't get me wrong, I adore the woman but I've seen her far too much this week."
"Maybe her hair is just really messy?" I responded with a slight shrug. "I've seen her after court and wow."
The hands moving through my hair stopped, and he asked, "Do you know her?"
"Actually, I'm a Detective with the NYPD and Miss Cabot is our ADA. I don't know her if that's what you are asking."
"Hmm. You said your name was Benson right?" He asked as he rinsed my hair and flipped me back upright for the drying.
"Yes I did."
He made that humming noise again as he combed out my hair. "What is it?" I finally asked not able to stand his mysteriousness.
"Oh Nothing, really." He flicked my hair this way and that, and made a decision. "You said short right?"
"I did." I growled out, irritated with him now.
"I've got just the thing. Hold tight and you'll be stunning in no time."
"Says you. I'm already the envy of all the perpetrators." I sarcastically remarked as he measured my hair and cut with quick precision. He hummed as he worked, obviously no longer wanting to talk with me about the elusive Miss Cabot. Fine, I thought. I'm not really that interested in the stuck up bitch anyways now.
In no time at all, Frank blow dryed and gelled my hair into a sexy mess then gave me the 'what do you think' look. He asked, "Well," in a lilting squeak.
"Great. I love it." I said, staring at my reflection in the two mirrors, not recognizing myself amongst the gorgeous creature staring back at me. Frank really knows what he is doing and is worth the two hundred I will be paying, plus tip of course. Definitely better than a buzz cut, I thought as I glanced from mirror to mirror.
Frank shook off the spare hairs and nodded his approval as I stood up slowly, stiff from being in the chair for almost an hour. I slipped him a nice tip as I gathered my jacket and paid the receptionist. I exited the shop then I paused to dig for my cell phone and hear footsteps behind me on the sidewalk. I remained still and hopefully oblivious to my stalker, but really I'm getting ready to turn and punch the shit out of the person behind me.
"You look good Detective." I heard in a low shout from right behind me. I would recognize that voice anywhere- Alexandra Cabot. I refrained from punching her, and instead wiped my sweaty hands on my pants just in case she wants to do something civilized like shake my hand or something. It just wouldn't be sexy to sweat on my crush while we're clothed. I smiled at the thought then dropped my glee before I turned around.
Taking a deep breath, I turned around. "Ah, ADA Cabot. Thank you. What a surprise to see you here." I said in a soft tone of voice with a hint of surprise and a hint of sarcasm, my face its usual mask of indifference.
Alex deflected my hidden question within a statement as only a true lawyer would and mumbled in a flat tone, "I'm just getting out of the office for a bit." She shuffled from foot to foot in a very unCabot like behavior and then glanced at her shiny and I'm sure expensive watch adorning her right wrist and then asked softly, "May I buy you lunch Detective?"
I thought about saying no but my mouth said, "Yes. Sure. Um…where?"
"I know a place not too far. I don't have court scheduled until tomorrow morning so I'm essentially free until then. May I drive you? Or would you rather meet there?"
I wanted to ride in her car but I wasn't sure if it would be a good idea since I'm essentially on call. Instead I suggested, "Why don't I follow you there and that way if I get called, you won't have to worry about getting me back here to my car."
She hesitated for a moment then said, "Okay. It wouldn't be any trouble though just so you know. I'm parked up in the garage." She pointed over to where my vehicle was parked.
I said, "me too." I started to walk and she walked beside me almost stride for stride.
"Were you just in the salon?" I looked at her.
She almost tripped as we walked but she caught herself and then mumbled, "Err, yes I was…nails, I needed a manicure." She held out her hand to me, nails up to display the beautiful French Tips adorning her hand.
"Beautiful. Frank mentioned seeing you earlier."
"He did?" She looked into my eyes, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.
"He did. Apparently you have visited him a little too frequently this week. Any particular reason Counselor?"
She shook her head no then nodded yes, "I…I well," she trailed off and didn't finish her reply.
I opened my mouth to ask her the question again, but we had reached our vehicles and the opportunity disappeared for the moment. She got in her dark blue Audi and I got in my vehicle. She started up the engine and exited the garage, going slow and allowing me to follow closely. She whipped through traffic like a indy driver and I barely was able to keep up with her. She pulled into the restaurant parking garage, parked and waited for me before exiting her car. She sauntered over to my parked car and leaned against the hood. I locked up my vehicle and smiled at her.
"Miss Cabot, I hope your hungry, because I sure am."
"I bet you're a bottomless pit Detective," Alex winked as she turned and walked to the entrance to the restaurant.
I shouted, "I do so love to eat Counselor." Alex did stop walking. I walked up to stand by her side and glanced into her wide blue eyes. I outstretched my hand and grabbed her elbow, noticing her starting to sway unsteadily.
"Come on." I tugged her with me into the restaurant and over to the hostess station. I now have an idea that maybe Miss Cabot likes me as more than a colleague.
The hostess glanced up at us as we approached the station and said in an loud voice, "Ah, Miss Cabot. Back again?" Alex nodded but didn't speak. I resisted the urge to put my index fingers in my ears and block out the sound. The hostess informed us with a flick of his wrist, "We have a booth for you this way." The hostess grabbed menus and walked away from the station in a blur of white and black. I followed and tugged Alex along.
I kept my hold on her thin elbow as the hostess led us to a corner booth, hidden by plants and out of the way of the general restaurant traffic. I kept hold of Alex while she sat down in her seat with a plop, then released her and I sat down gently, not sure of the recoil of the bench seat cushion. I have sat in booths that bounced me out and on my ass on the floor before, so now I'm overly cautious about that. How embarrassing that would be today. We get settled and the waiter arrives to take our drink order. I order a soft drink sheepishly and Alex ordered a glass of white wine. She glanced at me as she ordered, waiting for me to judge her, but I just lifted my eyebrow and stayed silent.
"How is your day going so far?" I asked, wanting to break the ice after the waiter left. I looked into her blue eyes as I twirled my napkin between my fingers.
"Crap and yours? I noticed you got your hair cut earlier," she ducked her eyes and said, "looks nice on you." She cleared her throat and kept her eyes down.
I watched her face and a pink flush, barely noticeable began to color her cheeks. "So you said. But…um thank you Miss Cabot." I gallantly responded, my mind spinning over her blushing about my new hairstyle.
The waiter brought our drinks out quickly and we ordered our lunch. I chose the roast beef melt and Alex chose a salad with light dressing. I sipped my soda and watched as she sipped her wine. She glanced at me as she swallowed and asked, "What?"
I shrugged, not wanting to explain why I found her perfect lips caressing the edge of her glass fascinating. I twirled my straw nervously and gathered my courage. I took a deep breath and asked, "What did you mean to say earlier when I asked you about why you visited Frank three times in a row?" I took a sip and waited.
I looked into her eyes as they widened in fear then she ducked her head again, hiding her expressive blue eyes from my penetrating gaze. I heard her take a deep breath then she said, "I…well, Frank said you had made an appointment with him, and well, I sort of… talkaboutyouoften…while I'm there."
"You do?" I asked, my jaw dropping slightly in astonishment. Alex talks about me to her stylist?
"I do," Alex whispered and lifted her eyes from the table to meet mine. "I do talk about you…a lot."
Good to know, I thought. "Why do you talk about me?" I asked and in a upper class faux accent continue, " surely, a lady of your status has others to speak of."
In a soft voice Alex responded to my silliness, "Actually I don't." She gazed into my eyes, her beautiful mouth turning down into a frown of sadness. I felt compelled to reach across to touch her and so I did, letting my hand lay on hers on top of the table. I felt her hand tense slightly at the touch but then she relaxed and accepted my supporting touch.
"That's okay Alex. Don't be sad. I'm glad I'm here for you, and you can talk about me with others."
She nodded her head and said, "Work has become my life and your what's interesting to me about work. Besides, I've known Frank forever and we are attached at the hip. In a way, he is my stylist and my best friend; the best free therapist in the city."
"I know what you mean. Elliot is the same way for me. He's more than my partner, he's my best friend. I tell him everything."
"Oh, you do. And what do you tell him Detective? All your deep dark secrets I hope, because Lord knows, I tell Frank about everything going through my head." She picked up her glass and took a healthy sip of her wine, then another, swirling the liquid around her tongue.
I thought I'd respond to her with a quip but instead I bit my lip, enjoying the pain for a minute, and glanced into her eyes as I said in a husky voice, "I told him that I like you."
She coughed out the wine she had just taken a sip of and said softly, "Huh?"
"You asked about what deep secrets I've told Elliot... and I've told him about you, probably as much as you've told Frank about me. We are talking about the same page here, right?" I raised my eyebrow at her.
I asked in a whisper, "I like you and you like me." I made a gesture between us and looked down at our joined hands.
"Yes, same page," she replied also in a whisper, then turned her hand over under mine and grabbed me in a tight clasp. She smiled at me, so wide it reached her eyes as I looked up once again into her now dark blue eyes, the corners crinkling slightly.
The waiter brought our food to the table, distracting us from gazing into each others eyes. I wasn't sure whether I was upset or grateful as my stomach growled loudly, announcing its excitement over the just arrived roast beef melt. I laughed, and Alex laughed along with me, but we still held hands even after the waiter deposited the food and left in a hurry.
"Um, I need my hand to eat," I said, still smiling.
"Yes. I knew that," Alex mumbled and ducked her head sheepishly as she tugged her hand out from under mine. I placed my napkin in my lap, picked up my sandwich and dug in, figuring the faster we eat, the more time we'll have to spend time together elsewhere, away from nosy restaurant patrons. I noticed a few of the waiters and a patron or two glancing over at our joined hands in curiosity and one or two with a looks of disgust.
In between gooey bites of sandwich, I asked, "Would you like to take a walk after we finish? I'd like to talk some more about…things if you don't mind."
"Sure," Alex replied as she stuffed a huge bite of lettuce into her mouth, obviously thinking the same thing I thought earlier about eating fast so we will have more time to spend together without the demands of our jobs getting in the way. As long as Elliot doesn't call me, the horrible timed idiot. He has interrupted me at inopportune times before, and normally, I just laughed over it, but this time, I might actually get mad at him. It's not like he has ESP and knows I'm sitting with Cabot, and having just told her I liked her and she said so in return. As I sat on my seat and gaze at her, I felt like I was in high school again, and just scored a hot date with the head cheerleader. I tapped my foot gently, unable to fully contain my excitement.
We finished the rest of the meal in silence, both chewing quickly. After we both had plowed through our food, the waiter brought over the check and I allowed her to pay since she asked me to lunch this time. And I did feel a little guilty over dropping two hundred bucks for my new shorned hair. She placed a tip on the table and gazed into my eyes as she finished her wine.
"Thank you Alex." I said, making sure to lower my voice to its huskiest register. Others have told me my voice turned them on and I crossed my fingers it also turns on Alex, liking and lusting me aren't quite the same I don't think.
"You're most welcome Detective."
"You know you can call me Liv if you want," I softly said as we stood up from our booth and prepared to exit the restaurant.
"Okay…Liv" She smiled at me as she said my name in a skeptic tone of voice.
"I mean it Alex," I told her, and reached for her hand to grasp it as we stepped out onto the sidewalk and head downtown.
A/N: Let me know if you want another chapter or for me to scrap this piece.