Author's Note: Here's the second chapter right away :) I hope you all like it as we meet everyone's favorite broadway star turned SVU ADA!

She should just forego the coffee. They had their own machine at the Precinct anyway, and the detectives wouldn't hold it against her. But one thought of that piece of crap machine and the swill it produced was enough to make Ainsley cringe. No, she could handle standing in line for a few minutes at a Starbucks to bring her friends some decent coffee.

She shifted the large box in her arms to pull out her phone. 8am. They shouldn't be too busy yet. After a few more minutes of listening to the orders being made ahead of her and trying to ignore the intense voice speaking rapidly in Spanish behind her, Ainsley reached the counter and smiled. She gave the traditional orders favorited by the detectives at SVU, mentally checking off their names: Olivia, John, Finn, Amanda, Nick, and Captain Cragen. Perfect. She stepped to the side after paying to wait for her drinks.

She allowed herself to lean against the far counter as she shifted her weight from side to side. Glancing out the large windows, she grinned at the gorgeous weather. If every day of the year could be 65 and sunny, she would be one happy camper. She heard her order called out, so she took the carrier and turned toward the entrance.

Suddenly, as she swiped her gaze across the street, she felt as if a bucket of cold water was dumped down her back. No, it couldn't be. She squinted and tried to crane her neck to see over the crowds, but before she could double check what she had seen, a city bus rushed past and the flash from moments ago was gone. She swallowed and shook her head. She was being ridiculous. No one was there. No one was watching her.

She took a firmer grasp on her box of food, clutched her carrier of coffees to her chest, turned, and promptly smashed front first into the man who had been behind her. For a moment the world seemed to slow down around her as she watched what was about to happen, unable to stop it. Five large cups of various coffees proceeded to fly out of their carrier - three of them splashing all down the front of what appeared to be a very expensive three piece suit, complete with stylish tie and coordinating pocket square.

Before she could react, Ainsley's senses were flooded with the scent of fresh coffee and the sounds of the man muttering in Spanish, setting his briefcase down next to her box of treats. She snapped herself from her own mortification and immediately grabbed a towel off the counter, her box of food forgotten on a table nearby.

"Oh my God!" she cried, rushing forward to try desperately wiping the man's suit. "Oh my God; Sir, I am so sorry!" She couldn't stand the idea of meeting his eyes so she decided to keep her face, which must have been beet red, fixated on his suit and the rapidly spreading coffee stain.

He had clearly grabbed a second towel and was patting his suit down as well, obviously trying to move Ainsley away. Oh God, how close was she to his crotch. It was then that Ainsley felt the utmost desire to lay down and die. Someone would have to remove her corpse from the Starbucks, tell the girls at the shop it was closed indefinitely, and notify Olivia to explain, "No, there was no foul play – just the absolute mortification and death of a pathetic twenty something. No, there will be no need to mourn; best forget everything."

Finally, the man in the (now ruined) suit was able to force Ainsley from her crouched position and guide her to a side table where he pushed her into a seat.

"I can't believe I did that…I'm so so sorry." She was looking down at her hands, still unwilling to look up at him.

"It's perfectly fine, I promise. Things happen – even things like spilling coffee on a $1,200 suit." At that, Ainsley whipped her head up in horror. $1,200? As she continued to stare, she noted the small smirk of amusement present on the man's face. Was he kidding? She honestly couldn't tell. Who was this guy?

"I will absolutely pay to have it dry cleaned," she promised, standing up. She didn't like him looming over her, but in this position she was satisfied being only an inch or two shorter than him. She watched as he gave her a once over, clearly trying to decide if she could, in fact, afford to pay for a non-budgeted dry cleaning bill. Ainsley took this opportunity to give him a glance as well.

As she had already noticed, the man was only slightly taller than her with an average build. It was strange though. The way he wore that suit, and damn was that (previously) a great look and the way he carried himself made him seem so much more impressive. He had dark hair and even darker eyes with thick lashes Ainsley only ever noticed on children. He had to have been at least forty, but then again, Ainsley had never been good at determining ages. He was still smirking at her when she realized she had been looking at him far longer than he had been looking at her.

"Sorry, yeah. Dry cleaning…I'm absolutely good for it," Ainsley assured him while handing over the towel she was still clutching to her chest.

"Unnecessary," he replied with a shake of his head. He patted down his suit a few more times before deciding to give up. He took another look at her and raised an eyebrow. "Miss, you might want to sit down. You're looking like you're about to stroke out on me."

He put one hand on her shoulder and gently forced her back into the seat. She ignored his comment and sighed. "You're not burned are you? If you are, I'll cover any medical expenses as well, but please don't have me arrested for assault. It was an accident. The worst accident of my life, but still an accident. And honest, I will take care of the dry cleaning. Please…crap I'm sorry. I must sound like an absolute lunatic – and moron. That too."

Ainsley took a deep breath and released a sigh as the man sat down across from her. "And I said it's not necessary. It's a suit; I've got another at work. No harm, no foul."

Ainsley raised one eyebrow and quirked one side of her mouth. "I'm sorry, you just happen to have second $1200 ensemble waiting for you at work on the off chance some moron destroys the first in a Starbucks?"

He smirked again. "Well it could have been a Panera, and the second is $1,700…I got a raise.

Ainsley released an incredibly undignified snort and covered her eyes with one hand. "Of course, my mistake," she laughed.

"There you go, not such a big deal, right?" he asked while ducking down to see beneath her fingers. She made a face, but shook her head.

"I don't care what you say though, I insist you send me the dry cleaning bill. Otherwise I'll have to search you out and bother you until you give it up. Please?" Ainsley gave him a hopeful look. H raised both eyebrows, but finally nodded.

"If it will bring you some semblance of peace…"

"It will. Here." She could feel the amusement rolling off the man in waves as she dug into her bag for one of her cards. "For Pete's sake –" she muttered. "Here we go."

She handed over her card and shivered when his fingers brushed lightly over her own.

"Ainsley May Reyes – Mariani's Bakery."

"That me. The address and phone number are on the back. Just send me the bill there and I'll pay you back. That okay?"

He gave a vague nod, still looking at the card. She was suddenly very self-conscious. By the man's appearance, he was probably a freaking connoisseur of business cards.

"Uhh, it's not too fancy, but it –"

"What? No, sorry, but," he started, looking up once more. "Forgive me, but you don't exactly look like a Reyes.

Ainsley blushed again. "Oh, uh no. I wouldn't. My stepdad adopted me when I was fourteen and I took his name. So here I am!" His smile turned to another smirk before he nodded and dug into his own jacket pocket.

"Well Ainsley May Reyes, I'll be in touch." He handed her a card, shook her hand once before grabbing his briefcase, and headed out the door.