A/N: Presenting the Real Reason Behind Alex's Bangs. A piece of pure Alex/Olivia fluff. Hope you all enjoy.

Disclaimer: The following is a piece of fanfiction. No money is made off this. There is no copyright infringement intended; all characters, episodes and backgrounds belongs to Dick Wolf and NBC. (Well, Richard is my creation.)

Candlelight On Silver Scissors

The scissors in his hand were silver and gleaming. They opened like rearing jaws, then snap shut again with an ominous click.

Richard Liu of Richard Liu's Hair Salon on West 35th Street regarded his customer's locks with baffled amusement.

"What did you do to your hair, Alex?" Snap, click.

Alex Cabot shook her head with a deathly don't-even-ask glare, refusing to give up the incriminating details. Richard was used to this, and wondered if she needed eye drops. Olivia rolled her eyes, gave Alex's hand a reassuring squeeze, and dove headlong into (most of) the gory details.

Here is the unedited version of events.

They had been having dinner. The main course was chicken in white mushroom sauce with angel-hair pasta. It had been a valiant effort. The chicken was overdone and the pasta was far from al dente, but at least Alex had tried. Having just gotten home after an eight-hour stakeout, Olivia would've eaten anything Alex could throw at her.

So it wasn't a very romantic dinner, but there was an inkling of a romantic mood. Alex had dug out some candles and turned the lights down when it became apparent her chicken was turning black and crispy around the edges.

Anyway, so there were candles with uncovered flames in Alex's vicinity. This should have set alarm bells ringing in Olivia's head, but hell, she was so tired.

During the meal Alex was admiring the way Olivia could throw back her pasta like a linebacker. Candlelight softened the hard angles of the detective's jaw and cheekbones, reflected golden glints in her eyes, and drew alluring, flickering shadows over the vee of Olivia's t-shirt...

Alex coughed and got to her feet. She needed salad. Greens, yes, lettuce would get her mind out of the gutter. Hopefully. She leaned over the table to reach the salad bowl. Her head bent and some stray hairs strayed too near a candle flame.

A few seconds later Olivia scraped back her chair with a wild yell, and fairly tackled Alex against the wall. Alex in turned was absolutely puzzled but she wasn't complaining, either, as the full length of Olivia's body pressed against hers for a single, blissful moment.

A wet napkin slapped against her face. Alex jolted out of a dreamy reverie with a sputtering gasp. She opened her eyes. Olivia's eyes, dark with concern and some panic, stared back into hers. What the hell happened?

"Alex! Are you okay?" God, the woman had a grip like a linebacker, too. Mmm. The thought of what those hands could do to her... Olivia was disconcerted when Alex began to smile.

"Is the napkin your new idea of foreplay, detective?" she murmured, in her sultriest contralto. The move had been a bit unorthodox, yes, but then her girlfriend was always full of surprises.

Olivia blinked in sheer disbelief. "Your hair was on fire, Alex!"

"That has to be the strangest story I've ever heard from you," Richard Liu said, as calmly as a guy can when he is laughing his head off. Alex glowered.

"I place the responsibility of this fiasco solely on your shoulders, Liv," she sulked.

Olivia stopped biting her lips to let her jaw drop. "What!" she cried. "Alex, I didn't do anything!"

"Yes, you did. You were..." the ADA thought back to the memory of Olivia's tongue caressing a fork tine. "You were...eating," Alex accused, feebly.

Olivia raised a sceptical brow. "My eating sets your hair on fire?"

Alex's scowl deepened. She darted a glance at an intensely curious Richard and said, "I'll explain later." Very thoroughly, she decided.

"Well, Alex," Richard jumped in, sensing a break, "there's only one way to fix this bird's nest you now call your hair. I need to cut a bang."

"No!" Alex protested. "I haven't had bangs since I was about twelve!"

"Believe me, I'm not happy either," he returned. "Bangs are completely unsuitable for your bone structure. But they're our best option right now."

Alex had that look on her face, the look that said she was desperately trying to find a loophole, whatever the consequences. Olivia, a practiced Alex-observer (and many other things besides), spotted that look and instantly feared suggestions of wigs and mohawks. She patted Alex's shoulder and said hastily, "They'll grow out in no time."

"I know," Alex admitted. "But...bangs."

"It's a shame," Richard said, cheerfully, as he began to pin up her hair. His scissors jumped and clicked busily.

"Your fault, Liv," a grumpy Alex said, though now there was a resigned smile playing about her lips. The crisis was over, though the effects of the disaster would linger for an unfortunate amount of days.

Olivia leaned in close. There were no candles to get in the way this time, but the spark in her eyes more than made up for it. Deep brown eyes met startled blue ones with a knowing gleam. "My fault? That is debatable," she whispered huskily.

Alex swallowed and shifted in her seat. Richard's scissors nearly sliced off an earlobe.

"Please hurry," she requested, holding Olivia's gaze, and bits of charred blonde hair went flying.