Pairing: Alex/Olivia
Spoilers: None. About as AU as you can get without changing the universe outright.
AN: Warning for BDSM elements. This is based on a dream I had, so if it weirds you out, that's probably why. Wish deals with the public distribution of a private sex tape by a third, uninvolved party without consent. So, basically, a kind of non-physical sexual assault.
...
Wish
...
"Ms. Cabot! Do you –"
"Can we get a statement?"
"Anything at all, Ms. Cabot..."
Bright camera flashes assaulted the District Attorney as soon as she walked onto the stage, and she tried not to squint. The click of her heels was drowned out by the sound of the mob, which continued to shout questions.
"What's your response to the allegations?"
"Ms. Cabot, have you seen the video? Can you confirm..."
"– can you tell us when it was filmed?"
Alex Cabot made an effort to keep her expression placid. She had been on television and in the news many times throughout career, but this was an entirely new experience. Branch pushed her to give several interviews when she returned from Witness Protection for the second time and rejoined the DA's office. She had made a short announcement after her first engagement, another when the plans fell apart, and a third when she became engaged for the second and final time. Her marriage had been far more public than she would have preferred, although she did her best to limit her wife's contact with the press. Olivia joked that she didn't have Alex's photogenic face. Alex always responded that Olivia was gorgeous, but she was afraid of what would happen to an unlucky reporter's face if one of them aroused the brunette's temper. In her metaphorical moments, she likened it to poking a lion with a stick.
Deciding to run for the DA's office a year later had only made things worse. All of interviews blurred together in her memory. Her critics had accused her of being too young, too inexperienced, too headstrong. Alex had taken them all on with a chilling sort of glee. Olivia described it as a bloodbath, but somehow Alex always managed to come out looking clean. There were the usual grumblings about her marriage to another woman and a few claims of impropriety with her old squad at the 1-6 – Sam Cavanaugh's name was brought up more than she would have liked – but Alex brushed those comments away like a wrinkle in one of her perfectly tailored power suits.
She had thought the spotlight on her personal life was finally gone. It was the second year of her term, and the majority of her constituents still supported her. Senators considered her to be a potential ally, a future opponent, or both. The only sound bytes she gave these days were about pending cases.
And then there was this clusterfuck.
For the first time in years, Alex found herself caught flat-footed. There were so many problems that she didn't even know where to begin. Fortunately, she paid people to figure those things out for her. Despite the horde of reporters and photographers crowding around the stage, she held herself with her usual air of dignity and confidence. The District Attorney would not be rushed, and she would speak on her own schedule. She held up a hand in an abrupt, almost aggressive gesture that was far too masculine for someone so slender, but it worked. The barrage of questions faded to a dull rumble with only a few occasional interjections.
"I am prepared to make a statement. Then, I may or may not answer a few reasonable questions." She made sure to stress the word 'reasonable' despite the fact that the press had been anything but over the past forty-eight hours. "My decision will depend entirely on the manner in which you conduct yourselves." The roar grew even quieter, although the sound of clicking cameras continued floating towards her over the heads of the crowd.
"I am sure that the majority of you are familiar with the basic facts surrounding this case. However, if there are any misconceptions," she paused, giving them a threatening look through the square black frames of her glasses, "I am pleased to correct them. On February twenty-eighth, a man named Dilan Herrera met with me. He was, and still is currently being charged with several felonies including assault in the first degree, criminal possession of a controlled substance in the first degree, criminal possession of a weapon in the second degree..."
Realizing that she was losing her audience, Alex decided against listing all of the charges against Herrera. That wasn't what sold magazines, so to speak. Then again, maybe boring the crowd was the way to go if it would get them off her back. She took a deep breath.
"Mr. Herrera claimed to have a sexually explicit video of me from several years ago. After showing me the," she groped for an appropriate word and eventually fell back on, "evidence... on his computer, he demanded that I pay him a lump sum of money and order the Assistant District Attorney prosecuting his case to drop the charges against him. Obviously, I refused." That was putting it politely.
Another wave of questions came at her, and Alex held up her hand again, unable to resist defending herself even with that simple motion. Eventually, the ruckus died down. She tried to keep her expression absolutely unreadable, but Alex felt her knees beginning to shake. She consciously unlocked them so that she wouldn't faint and make even more of a spectacle. "I confiscated his computer immediately and told him that I would not comply with any of his demands."
Everyone knew what happened next. On what was expected to be a quiet news day, the Internet suddenly exploded with messages and video clips. It took less than two hours for the mainstream news media outlets to pick up the story.
"To avoid all allegations of bias, New York County will not be handling any of the charges against Mr. Herrera. He will be tried at the state level. Neither I, nor my office, will be participating except to give testimony. I have freely offered all of my professional and personal financial assets for review at both the state and federal levels so that no accusations of bribery may be leveled against the District Attorney's office or me at a later date. Despite rumors to the contrary, I will not be stepping down from my position as District Attorney of New York County. By severing all ties with the charges against Mr. Herrera, I believe that I have upheld the professional standards of this office to the best of my ability."
Alex let out a relieved breath, trying to loosen the tight, aching knot in the middle of her chest. The blonde lawyer-turned-politician tried to convince herself that the worst of it was over, but she knew it was a lie. Alex hadn't wanted to accept questions from the media at all, but her publicist had insisted. So far, Harry, who was standing behind and to her left, was doing as much as he could to shield Alex from the fallout. He was due for a several-figure raise in the near future. She adjusted her glasses and said, "now, I will answer a few questions." The underlying warning was unmistakable, but the press exploded with excitement and more snapping cameras.
"Ms. Cabot, who was involved in filming the video of you and Olivia Benson?"
Although it was one of at least a hundred, the comment caught Alex's attention. "A tripod," she drawled. A warning shake of her publicist's head did nothing to dissuade her. If she was going to be dragged into this mess, Alex decided, she might as well go down swinging. "Captain Benson is a decorated police officer who has been with the NYPD for over two decades. Please refer to her by her rank, or as my wife. No one else was involved at any point." Realistically, Alex knew that she couldn't protect Olivia from these jackals, but she could damn well try.
That caused several people to ask variations of the same question. "Will she be making a statement?" overlapped with "how does Captain Benson feel about the scandal?"
Alex cleared her throat. "My wife will not be making a statement." But it seemed as though Olivia was the unseen woman of the hour, because the next several questions involved her.
"Did Captain Benson coerce you in to making the video?"
"Did you know that you were being filmed?"
"Ms. Cabot, was it Captain Benson's idea to –"
Alex sighed, settling for the shortest answer possible. "I was not coerced by any means." It was obvious to anyone watching the video that both women knew where the camera was, based on the angle of the shots. Her Detective, as Alex still called Olivia in their playful moments, had edited the video herself. The DVD was kept safely in a shoebox at the top of the closet underneath several pairs of pantyhose, some tissue paper, a pair of Alex's old sunglasses from 1985, and an unused purse. They purposely did not upload it on to any of their computers. Olivia's time in Computer Crimes left her more than a little paranoid, and Alex wholeheartedly agreed with her suggestion. Unfortunately, neither of them had expected their high-rise to be the target of a burglary.
As if they could collectively read Alex's mind, the crowd continued shouting out questions. "How did Mr. Herrera get the video?"
"Did you give him a copy?"
"Was it sold to anyone?"
Alex mentally rolled her eyes. "The video was stolen from our home three weeks ago." The District Attorney was already regretting her decision to keep it in the apartment, but she hadn't wanted to run the risk of a Cabot relative finding it in the dark recesses of the Martha's Vineyard house. "We filed a police report, which I will ask the NYPD to make available to the press." Of course, Alex and Olivia hadn't realized that the video was taken until it was far too late. Their first instinct had been to check the lockbox where Alex kept her most expensive pieces of jewelry and make sure that none of their credit cards, passports, or bank information had been taken (yes and no, respectively. The return of her mother's engagement ring was the only thing about this disaster that Alex was looking forward to. She had planned to give it to Olivia on their tenth anniversary.)
It wasn't entirely new information, but Alex's confirmation that the video was stolen property stirred the excited crowd into a frenzy. "When was the video stolen?"
"Were you in the apartment when the burglar broke in?"
"Did Mr. Herrera –"
"The burglary is still an open investigation, and I am not permitted to comment on it," Alex said.
"Ms. Cabot, how do you feel about the embarrassment and shame you've caused your family?"
The last question was too much. Alex's eyes flashed behind the lenses of her glasses, and for the first time, her mask cracked. Her face tightened with anger and pain, and she came down on the reporter like an angel of fury with a fiery blade in her tongue. "I am not ashamed." Not of Olivia. Never Olivia. "A very personal, vulnerable, loving moment that was only supposed to be shared with my wife was stolen from us and made available to every pervert with a computer and an Internet connection. It hurts. It makes me physically sick..." Her eyes and throat burned as though she was breathing in smoke. "But Dilan Herrera and the paparazzi sensationalizing this story are the ones who should be ashamed. I refuse to let their twisted games violate my marriage."
Even though she had decided to keep her maiden name professionally, in her heart of hearts, New York County District Attorney Alexandra Cabot was really Mrs. Olivia Benson. Her critics decried her as a cold feminist – and if being a feminist meant giving women the opportunity to make their own choices, Alex considered herself one – but she had very traditional ideas about marriage. Although not particularly religious, the idea of marriage as a sacrament and a sacred institution was something that Alex treasured.
The questions continued rolling towards her in endless waves, and Alex shot her publicist an unreadable glance. The fact that she had turned in his direction at all was enough of a signal for Harry, and he stepped forward to take Alex's place. "Ms. Cabot will not be answering any more questions. We hope you will respect her privacy and the privacy of her family in this difficult time."
But Alex was sharp enough to know that there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell of that. Privacy was a thing of the past. It seemed like everyone and their grandmother had watched her bring Olivia to climax with her mouth, followed by a vigorous session with a double-ended "friend" that the detective had come home with one night after tracking down a witness in SoHo.
Making love with Olivia was always different. Sometimes she forced Alex to submit, using her body in ways that might appear rough or callous to an outside observer, but were highly pleasurable for both of them. That part had happened towards the middle of the video. After Olivia took her pleasure from Alex's lips and tongue – and pleasure was clearly being taken if the strength of her rocking hips and her position over Alex's face were any indication – she had thoroughly and completely possessed Alex's body with the strapless dildo, simply rolling her over and forcing the blonde onto her knees when she wasn't satisfied with the depth of her strokes. Alex's release was so intense that she nearly blacked out.
Other times, Olivia was painfully gentle, treating Alex like the most precious thing in the world, a world full of warmth and softness, love and trust. The second time Alex came she was facing the camera, legs spread to reveal her treasures while Olivia clung to her back and trailed lazy but clever fingers through her folds, the detective's strong thighs holding Alex's apart. "I want you to see what I see when I make love to you," she had said. "I want you to know how beautiful you are." And at the time, the experience had helped convince Alex that she was beautiful in Olivia's eyes. She just wished that Olivia's eyes were the only ones that had seen the video, and she especially wished that the audio hadn't picked up the soft, tender things Olivia had whispered in her ear that afternoon. Reassuring murmurs of love and desire weren't meant to be shared with the entire world.
Even though the video was private, Alex had to admit that it was a pretty accurate representation of their sex life; Olivia taking pleasure from her, dominating her, then building her back up with the strength of her love. On the other side of the coin, Alex liked to do the same for Olivia. The fallout from the sex tape was embarrassing, even painful, but she was grateful that the camera had not captured Olivia being vulnerable instead of her. Alex knew that the detective wouldn't have been able to deal with the aftermath as well as she could. Olivia's past, combined with a tough job and a strong but stubborn personality, made it incredibly difficult for her to show any signs of weakness to people she did not trust.
"Get out of here, Alex," Harry murmured as she turned and walked offstage. "And get some rest, you look like shit."
The DA didn't bother responding to her publicist. Instead, she adjusted her glasses, sighed, and headed for the nearest exit, hoping that no one from the press conference was quick enough to catch her on the way to her car. She tried to ignore the two uniformed officers that trailed behind her, but her attempts at faking normalcy were unsuccessful. It didn't help that her ride home was a police cruiser.
"Ms. Cabot," one of the unis said, politely holding open the door so that she could climb in the back. Alex managed to mumble a thank-you, smoothing out the wrinkles in her skirt as she was locked into the back of the squad car. By the time they pulled out of the parking lot, the camera flashes and loud questions had found them again.
'So this is what it feels like,' Alex thought, remembering all of the perps that had been assaulted by the media on the courthouse steps or as they were guided headfirst into a police vehicle. Her only hope was that Olivia wouldn't have to experience this... but she had used up her one impossible wish for this lifetime. She was married to the woman of her dreams. There were no more miracles in store for her, not this time, but the one was enough.