A cold mist escaped her lips as she breathed out. She closed her eyes and paused, her step slowing and halting on the pavement. She didn't flinch as people surged around her, jostling her thin frame side to side with the current. She was a leaf on the wind, the surging unity of the crowd scrubbing her clean and pure.
She broke away. She was something wild and something different; she was someone who could no long blend with society. She had seen too much; she was yanked from the eternal bliss that occupied the minds of the people. She was desensitized. She was cold.
She breathed out, the cloud of air illuminated by the streetlamps. She kept walking until she reached Rockefeller center and looked down onto the skating rink, and the Christmas tree that overlooked it. Kids laughed as they ran around with their balloons and pretzels.
A little girl slammed into her, and Alex looked down, shocked at how much the little girl resembled the one from her last case.
Wait, wait no, she didn't. The little girl looked at Alex, puzzled and ran away.
She was going crazy. She was going crazy with pain and disbelief and loneliness. The cases she worked were barely tolerable, and the girls she picked up were hardly extraordinary. No one would break her shell; hell, no one could break the shell she had built up over herself, except one person.
She longed for her touch, for the feel of her lips, for her hair tangled around her fingers. Alex closed her eyes and leaned on the railing, feeling the cold metal seep through her coat and brush her skin. She wanted to feel her hands brush up her back, up to her shoulders to gently rub her neck and shoulders, her nails digging in ever so slightly.
She so envied the woman Olivia had staked a claim to. Alex looked down at the rink, imagining them there, skating side by side, and holding hands. She tore her eyes away and shook her head. She saw how Olivia looked at that woman every time she stopped by the station. Room mate, yeah right; she had been around long enough to know that ruse.
Her feet were now taking her away from the rink, towards the street, where she raised her hand for a taxi. Her brain was still stuck in her fantasy.
Normally, she lived for days like this, where she spent time building up her case with statements at the station; she could face off; push the rules to their breaking. The puzzles kept her entertained, engaged, thinking. Always she would come in and make up an excuse to see Olivia, talk to her about the case, and try to spend as much time around her. The detective found it overbearing at first, but now welcomed her presence by asking her nonsensical legal questions in return. And whenever Alex blew a gasket trying to get around a legal barrier, Olivia would take her arm playfully and go to coffee with her; in return, whenever Olivia would kick a trashcan across the room in frustration, Alex would drag her to the park and force her to take a walk. It was how they could calm each other down.
They rarely talked about their personal lives; instead they focused on things they had in common: how they got into the field, the people they met, how ridiculous Munch's glasses were… but it seemed that all those combined hours had somehow skipped over one topic: relationships. If one brought it up, the other would stonewall until the topic was forgotten for something else. It was the way things worked.
Today, Olivia had been especially tense. She had been avoiding Alex, brushing roughly past her with files that morning and sitting at her desk, working for a good three hours straight, while Alex was station behind the two-way, pulling together a case. It was slowly killing her, seeing her friend so tense and troubled. Alex softly excused her self from the room behind the two-way and walked out into the station's office.
Olivia spotted her and walked up.
"I thought you were working on the interrogation."
"They're wrapping up right now."
Olivia nodded and leaned onto a desk, shutting her eyes and taking a deep breath.
"Coffee or walk?"
Olivia opened one eye as Alex spoke. "Both. I think I need to tell you something."
"What is it?" The pair of them are walking in Central Park, holding steaming coffees. Olivia stares at her feet, unable to look at her blonde friend.
"I'm uh, kind of seeing someone."
"Oh," Alex's answer is simple and neutral. She looks over at Olivia and accidentally brushes shoulders with her. Olivia doesn't seem to notice. This conversation is uncharted territory in their relationship, and neither one of them knows what to happen or how to act. Olivia clears her throat and takes a breath.
"So this, uh, person that I'm seeing she's, uh…"
"She?" Alex and Olivia both stop walking and stare at each other. Olivia, waiting for a reaction, and Alex, biting her tongue as her suspicions are confirmed.
"Yeah, she's uh, great. Her name's Farah."
"Oh," Alex feigns surprise as Olivia names her roommate. Olivia is too caught up in her thoughts to call out the farce. "She nice," Alex picks her words carefully. Olivia, relieved at Alex's reaction, starts walking again.
"How long have you two been seeing each other?"
"A little over a year now," Olivia shrugs and takes a drink from her coffee.
"She's pretty," Alex nods and raises the cup to her lips. They keep walking, using their coffee as an excuse to keep silent.
"Have you been, uh, seeing anyone?" Olivia breaks the silence with her question.
"Not uh, not seriously, no; just a few dates with a few different people."
This time, Olivia does notice how Alex is speaking and bites her lip as her friend pauses slightly before saying people.
"What kind of people?" she's pushing it. Alex just shrugs.
"People-people; I don't know. Nothing ever really sticks. By the end of the night usually nothing happens and she just goes home."
"She?" Olivia raises her eyebrows for real this time. Alex blushes and turns away to hide it.
"Oh, uh, yeah."
"So you're…?"
"Yeah," both women are silent as they continue walking. They both become preoccupied watching the people flit around that the silence becomes comfortable, almost familiar, and Olivia grabs Alex's hand.
"Oh, uh, sorry," Olivia yanks her hand away before Alex can even think to enjoy the moment. Her face falls and Olivia is too embarrassed to even take note. She tucks her free hand into her jacket pocket swallows in embarrassment.
"Habit; sorry," Olivia says. Alex nods that she's okay, and the two turn and walk back to the station.
It was the day that they both learned something of each other, and the day that the crack in the foundation of Alexandra Cabot began to spread as her heart burst with either love or lust. She couldn't really tell.
It had been a while since the park incident. Alex stands where she usually does on nights like this, coffee in hand, leaning on the railing of the upper plaza and looking down on Rockefeller center. It's touristy, but she doesn't care. It played to the romanticism that always threatened to escape her imagination.
Olivia was supposed to meet her here in a few minutes. She had called, wanting to talk, sounding like she needed to talk, and Alex had to say yes. Barriers between them had been felled like dominoes since they had first spoken in the park, and no matter how hard she tried to prevent it, Alex had crumbled. She had absolutely crumbled into the ground as her foundation gave out, leaving her in a puddle of yearning and confusion. She rests her head on her hands and sighs, jolting upwards as her cell phone rings.
"Liv?" the sound on the other end of the line is muffled. "Liv?" Alex tries again; she pauses as there is fumbling on the other line and Olivia's voice comes through.
"Farah broke up with me," Olivia sounds teary and Alex bites her lip. Olivia is not one to cry; worry, yes, but not cry. Not unless she was very upset.
"Is this what you wanted to talk to me about?" Alex asks softly. Olivia mumbles yes over the phone. "Where are you?" Alex asks. She scans the crowd to spot her friend but can't discern between the surging bodies moving around each other. It was like she was transported back to that moment weeks ago, before she was out to Olivia, and before that little fantasy in her head had even an inkling of possibility.
"I couldn't wait to tell you in person," Olivia's voice over the phone brings Alex back to real life and out of her head. Alex nods, even though she knows Olivia can't see her.
"Where are you?" Olivia sniffles, asking Alex's unanswered question. She herself stands near a pretzel stand, the light from the streetlight casting an unearthly shadow across her cheekbones.
"Over near the Christmas tree," Alex rubs her eyes on the sleeve of her sweater and looks down again to the ice skating rink. She barely registers Olivia's goodbye as she clicks her phone shut.
She no longer sees Farah and Olivia skating hand in hand down below on the ice, and she no longer sees the faces of all the victims everywhere she goes. Maybe as her hope grew, her insanity ebbed away.
"Hey," Olivia's voice is soft as she approaches Alex from behind and places her hands on her shoulders, massaging gently. Alex should be doing the comforting, but the moment is so near to perfect, for a moment, she can't move. She breaks her stupor and turns around, grabbing Olivia's hand. Olivia's eyes are red and puffy, and her hair is slightly disheveled.
It's a fantasy deviated, but Alex squeezes her hand. It's the scene from the walk in the park, except neither of them pulls away; it's as if all of Alex's fantasies and storylines are falling into place. Both of them pause slightly, and Alex ever so slightly pulls Olivia forward. Olivia turns her head and leans in, kissing Alex under the tree. Alex leans into her and smiles, until reality comes crashing down.
Olivia wouldn't kiss her if everything was alright; the desperation of the kiss sends a stone to Alex's stomach and she realizes she's just a rebound. But for now, that is good enough for her.