Chapter 4 –

After being escorted (although Olivia would call it pushing) Olivia was left to her own devices in the Precincts bunker room. It wasn't particularly cozy: pale turquoise sheets littered the steel frames, cement bricks – the only canvass of colour; lightly glossed and a perfect aid in reflecting the nauseating florescent lights that hung suspended on thin wires. There wasn't much to look at, no abstract pictures hung, no cheerful trinkets lay atop the solemn side table – hell, there wasn't even an analog clock. The bunker was responsible for one job and one only – to ease the detectives into an uncomfortable, isolated sleep.

Biting her swollen lip, she cursed through a now clenched jaw. Sitting wasn't the easiest thing to do – so how she was expected to lie there was beyond her. Whatever happened to feeling it the next day? She was quite sure 4 hours did not count as the proper time lapsed.

Swallowing her discomfort, she edged her way into the lower bunk – not even attempting to take the higher one. Repeating the mantra, Just lie back, just lie back, Olivia slowly reclined into the flat bunk, making sure not to bump the back of her head on the steel poor excuse for a headboard. Last thing she needed was a matching bumps to parade in front of the Captain.

Once fully laid back, she pried her eyes open and gazed at the frame above her. Quirking her eyebrow, she waited for her eyes to refocus in the dim light, and fought to make out the inscription carelessly etched in the top bunk above her. 'Fin's bunk, stay off' was inscribed – but it was also etched out and had a smaller rebuttal, loosely engraved. 'Munch's bunk now, ha-ha – John'. If it weren't for her compromised situation of pain and close proximity – Olivia would be shaking her head in disbelief at the two.

Olivia thought she would never succumb to sleep; she usually put up a solid fight when it called her into its corner, but this time she was Totally Knocked Out within 10 minutes of lying there. Her sleep wasn't fitful or light; she fell into a deep state and failed to relate to the existing time beyond her unconsciousness.

Alex had not expected Olivia to cave to easily to the suggestion of being her 2 day roommate, in fact – as soon as the proposition had left her lips she steadied herself for a whirlwind of objections. There was always this clueless infatuation that circled the Attorney's frontal lobe of reason. She was as cool and collected as they came, but the dark haired Detective was the fire that escalated her temperature and resistance and left her feeling neutral and bewildered. Olivia was the puzzle she couldn't piece together, so many colors of similarity – but none lining up and that was part of the reason she opted in to watch over Olivia. Partly to recount for her failing to notice the suspect was a threat; bearing down on the Detective – and the other for her own selfish nature of competitiveness.

While in reality the 16th precinct never slept; the action inside inevitably did. Time lapsed through the day and the 2pm rush of the Special Victims Unit passed, and the hustle and bustle became less abundant as the afternoon sunk into the evening, and finally relaxing into its 20th hour.

Throughout the last few hours, Alex had let her gaze flicker toward the Black clock perched on her desk, it was embossed in a graphite texture and the hands were made of stainless steel – showcasing eloquence through and through. However, her gaze didn't wander to it repeatedly for outward appreciation, but mainly to remind her of how many hours – minutes, she had left until she had to retrieve the battered Detective.

Not that Olivia would be open to know she was described as such – she was nothing short of a fearless warrior, but Alex knew there must be more too that then her solid exterior – beneath there was something else and she spent countless hours lost in through trying to discern what.

Alex's hands wove their way underneath the pile of documents and folders, with effort she managed to shuffle the loose leafs into a tight bundle and forced the folder to close, wrapping the bound elastic around to secure the information. Her left arm dangled below her desks top, feeling for her Black leather briefcase that seldom left her side. Making contact with the smooth texture, she lifted it onto her lap and unhinged the zipper, slipping the portfolio into the confines.

Her chair wheeled backwards, and with poise she stood up stiffly, adjusting her blazers hem, and shifting her weight to re adjust her skewed skirt. Never let it be said that Alexandra Cabot look anything but sleek and fashionable.

Slipping her fingers underneath the handle, she lifted the briefcase upward, and managed to shuffle her purse into her open hand, and slip the strap over her shoulder. The Attorney paused at her door, mentally ticking off everything she needed to gather before fetching the Detective. Fetching Liv, she quirked an eyebrow in response to her own musings and what butterfly sensation rode with it.

Throughout the darkness, a sleeping figure continued to thrash around in the sunken bottom bunk, mumbling disagreement and light obscenities. From underneath the perspired Black Tank, a tanned arm threw itself over the bunks rail, dangling on the side as the body continued to wriggle. "Elliot... don't start," a rasping argument escaped the sleeping Detective. "No," another objection pierced the silence.

Alex had entered the room's confines – just catching the last bits of Olivia's one-sided conversation with an illusion of Elliot, she could only assume. Her lips instinctively wound their way into a smirk, even in a dream state Olivia still fought, and I thought 'I' was a workaholic.

"Love? ... What are you crazy, El" An inaudible laugh hiccupped over the pillow that softened Olivia's exclamation, as her cheek rocked on it.

Alex's amusement stifled as her expression fell into concentration. Maybe the rumours were true, Alex wondered. Why else would the words Love and Elliot mingle together into the Brunette's slumber confessions? Her suitcase became very heavy and cumbersome at that moment, as unknown revelations wore heavily on her frail frame. She suddenly felt very awkward eavesdropping on Olivia's bedside confessions. She should really wake her, this wasn't right – it bordered on personal obstruction and she knew better. A part of her wanted to know once and for all if Olivia and Elliot shared more than warm glances – but another part of her didn't want to hear it. Lowering her leather tote and resting it against the doors frame she meandered over to Olivia, in the hopes of waking her up before she said too much.

"If you tell her, Elli..."

The outburst jerked Alex backward, her heels skidded instantly, and her toe perched forward, relenting slightly in the hopes of Olivia furthering her words. Her?

"She's not as cold as you sa..."

Okay, well this is getting a little interesting. Seems Detective Benson may be in a love triangle, wouldn't of pegged you for a drama Queen, Liv. No, Counsellor, this isn't your place. How would you feel if Olivia knew.. – knew what? A voice laughed in bitterness behind her, she waved the inner tormentor off with her hand and settled it on the exposed collarbone of the Detective, urging her to wake.

"Alex," Olivia sputtered out, rocking with the forced motion from the Attorney.

"Yes, Olivia it's me, it's time to go," She cooed, using as little force as possible to rouse the Detective.

"Alex," she repeated.

The blonde's eyebrows knit together, cerulean eyes focused on the lidded ones painted on Olivia's smooth expression. Either she was awake or playing the Attorney for game, or she was still asleep and just became infatuated with the ADA's name. Either one made her uneasy for reasons she would not admit.

"Liv, wake up..." This was the second time she had hovered over Olivia that day, and each time a desire to using other methods of rousing fought their way to her subconscious. It scared her. Alex became slightly irritated with herself and the present situation, with her usual demeanour she leaned backward on her heels; the wooden ends digging into the cheap floor. Clearing her throat she peered down at the Detective, "Olivia Benson, I order you to wake up." It was a voice of authority, and Olivia couldn't back down from a rebuttal. Alex knew that.

Brown eyes snapped open, bearing into the gray before her – focusing uneasily in the eerie darkness. A bright color of yellow caught her vision, and she instantly felt comforted at the warmth of it. Her head tilted over, the slick dew from her perspiration of a fitful sleep lolled downward, running its trail over her collarbone and disappearing under the cotton material of her shirts collar. She swallowed the last bits of sleep, and opened her mouth to question the other occupant in the room, however; she had no time as their presented themselves.

"Good, you're awake. I thought I might have been forced to drag you out myself," she snorted, exhaling shakily, as her eyes diverted from where the droplet had disappeared.

It took Olivia a few moments to rationalize where she was, and who was speaking to her. The day wound itself around her until it unravelled into acknowledgment. Then her dream came flooding back to her and she fought to close her eyes at the embarrassment. Exactly what did Alex hear – and what did she say? Gauging Alex's stoic expression, - nothing. Using her limber arm, she dug her elbow into the cots springs, and angled herself to look over at the Blonde.

"Alex didn't think you'd even be able to find this room, most insomniacs don't know of its existence," she quipped, ever so clever even when just barely entering consciousness.

Alex merely rolled her eyes. They always played the game of banter and personal observations. Whatever little they knew of each other transpired into equivocal barbs of judgement and assumptions."Really, Detective, "she finally was able to make eye contact with Olivia, fighting the urge to bark with assured laughter. "Don't be so cocky to judge, or I may reconsider my invitation and let you sweat out your stay in here instead of my 200 thread count bed."

Instantly after the declaration the Attorney suddenly felt as hot as Olivia looked, and her ears burned at the insinuation. Fighting the question Olivia's lips read she turned away, already intent on leaving the ignited situation. "So gather your stuff and meet me downstairs in the garage. We'll take my car; it's the Black Cadillac in G4. "She bent down to grab her suitcase, casting a glance over at Olivia who eyed her with a look of question. "Can you make it alright?" her voice easing its tone of off handedness, slipping into concern.

The question Olivia was searching for in the Blue eyes became lost; she pushed it away into her minds confines to pull out later as she responded. "Yeah, I'll be fine. " She admitted; already fetching her discarded sweater layer and slipping it uneasily over her tender frame.

"Okay," Alex nodded, tossing her purse carelessly over her shoulder. "See you in a bit."

With that the Attorney left Olivia's presence, leaving the door partially jarred.

Scenes of Olivia's dream churned and marinated her thoughts as she shrugged her jacket on, and steadily made her way to the door

"-Love, what are you crazy El?"Olivia feigned laughter, brushing off his insinuations.

"I think you're more than 'In love' with the idea of her," Elliot, Olivia's partner dictated – noting the stance of defence she took toward the statement.

'Admit it, Liv. You were following those legs right up until they left your vision!" Elliot gaffed, taking satisfaction in the expression his partner wore.

Her mouth opened to rebut, but she closed it, fighting the tears of frustration that bore down on her soft skin. "If you tell her, Elliot,"

"Relax," the male Detective soothed, coming over to cast his hands over his partners defeated shoulders. "I'd never dream of melting the Ice Queen with such hot news," he consoled, fighting the small shard of sadness that pierced his burly insides at the pain his partner wore.

"She's not as cold as you say, Elliot. You just have to get to know her."

"Alex," Elliot mouthed, causing Olivia to look up in confusion at the vocal change from his partner. Her brown eyes met blue – but they weren't the usual steely Blue she had come to memorize. They were a softer Blue – not quite sky but more of a pearl Caribbean sea, washing into a tinge of gray. The bristly chiselled Jaw began to contort and shorten – smoothing out and hiking in pronunciation. Suddenly – Elliot had disappeared and the two hands consoling her and resting on her shoulders were thin and delicate – burning trails of desire at the contact. Her lips quivered as she spoke the question in awe once more,

"Alex?"

Olivia shook the reverie from her mind, casting a glance at the soiled blankets bundled in her previous sleeping quarter. Good thing the dream didn't continue, who knows what other fluids could have engrossed themselves into the beds fabric if it had.