Chapter 49: Village
"She loved the clothes."
"Was everything I picked out all right?" Olivia studied Clayton anxiously over her glass. "I tried to follow your instructions about light, loose and comfortable but I wanted her to have something pretty too. For her as well as Ettienne."
"Playing matchmaker?" he teased her, eyes warm.
She smiled. "Guilty. I don't know him that well, but what I have seen of him makes me think she'd like him too, if she'd give him a chance. How is her recovery going?"
"She's actually doing a lot better." And even Doc had been surprised. Since Alex and Dash had talked, her recovery had progressed rapidly. Whatever emotional issues had been cleared up in that conversation had an impact on her physical state as well as her mental state. "The last of the stitches came out yesterday. She's still tender and sore, but some low-grade painkillers are keeping that under control. She's standing and walking for longer periods of time and she's smiling a little more." He grinned. "At Ettienne, mostly. I took pity on him and gave him light duty so he doesn't feel bad about shirking duty to spend time with her."
"Thanks."
"Doc's still a little worried about her weight, she doesn't seem to have much of an appetite but Ettienne and Allie and Shana are bringing in lots of junk food and high calorie stuff, and she's eating that, so I think it's just that she can't stand base food."
"Like you?" Olivia grinned at his surprised expression. "Come on. We had lunch four days ago and breakfast three days ago. And now we're here having dinner. You're obviously looking for a way out of eating base food, or you just really like my company."
Clayton grinned as he speared another bite of steak. "Actually both."
'Here' was the Knickerbocker Bar and Grill in Greenwich Village, a tasteful, slightly upscale place with lovely hardwood, tasteful live music, and the best steak Clayton had ever eaten. When he'd met Olivia coming out of the precinct and offered to take her to dinner (ostensibly to thank her for putting together the suitcase for Alex but also because he wanted to see more of her,) she'd looked at him challengingly for a second, then said, "I had court today, so I'm pretty much dressed for whatever you're up to. Surprise me." And since military off-duty fatigues were accepted virtually everywhere, she hadn't had any clue to where they were going. He'd picked the Knickerbocker because it was his favorite place to eat and he'd wanted to subtly give her a little more information about himself.
From the way she'd smiled when they parked (and he'd opened the door for her) she liked his taste. It wasn't the kind of stiflingly-dignified establishment that General Clancy and most of the guys at Clayton's rank favored; this was the kind of place where a couple of soldiers on leave could sit down, have a good steak and quiet conversation, or if they were looking for a little more life, sitting at the bar nursing a couple of beers and flirting with whoever happened to also be there was always an option. Flint and Lady Jaye loved this place, and after coming here one day Clayton had fallen in love with it too. The wait staff knew him, were familiar with his coming in alone, had looked at him in slight surprise when they saw him come in with a companion but hadn't otherwise commented. He wondered if Olivia had picked up on the surprised looks—
"So you come here often." Yep, she'd caught it. There didn't seem to be much she missed, he reflected as he studied her, waiting for her to continue. "The wait staff knew you; they showed you to this table without hesitation. You obviously hadn't known I'd leave choice of restaurant up to you, so you couldn't have called ahead for a reservation, which means they pretty much save this one for you. But they looked surprised to see me, which means you don't bring women here often, or when you do, it's probably a group of your people with you because this booth is big enough for six."
"I love listening to your mind work," he said dryly as he wiped his fingers on his napkin and took a swallow of his soda.
"Yes, you do, or you wouldn't give me so many opportunities to dissect you," she said with a twinkle in her eye as she pushed the remains of her own steak aside.
"Now I'm the guilty one." He smiled as he pushed his own plate aside, nodded to the waitress who came to take his plate, then faced Olivia again. "You're right, I do come here enough that they know me. But they haven't seen me come in with a female civilian, I'm usually here with Dash and Allie and a couple of the guys. Shana and Snake Eyes don't go out that often—he can be a little self-conscious about his looks and the fact that he can't talk can sometimes be awkward, and Courtney and Wayne prefer something…a little more down-to-earth."
Olivia chuckled. "I take it that means they prefer the dives. I'm guessing they get in a lot more trouble."
Clayton rolled his eyes. "There's a bar down on the Eastside that's owned by a retired buddy of mine. It's in a much rougher neighborhood, and Courtney and Wayne love it there, but they can get a little…enthusiastic. About a month ago he called me up, my direct line, which he hardly ever does, and said, "Your kids are having a wonderful time, come and get them."
Olivia chuckled. "Cleanup duty?"
"Yep. And I docked their pay for the damages, too."
Olivia winced. "Ouch."
At the sound of her voice a guy who'd just been seated at a neighboring table turned around. "Liv? Liv Benson?"
She turned with a smile, but when she saw the dark-haired olive-skinned guy sitting there, she said, "Hello, Nick," and turned back around, coolly ignoring him.
He apparently wasn't going to let that go. "It's been ages since I've seen you! How are you doing?" He got up from his table and stood at theirs, and even from where he stood Clayton could smell alcohol on his breath; apparently his evening was well under way.
"Fine, thank you," she snapped, just short of being rude.
"Well, I can see that, I've been keeping track of you in the news. Doing pretty well for yourself, aren't you?" He leaned over and held a hand out to Clayton. "Nick Ganzner. Olivia and I go way back."
Hmm. I gather she wishes you didn't, Clayton thought, but took the other man's hand briefly anyway. "Clayton Abernathy."
Apparently this guy couldn't take a hint, or he was too drunk to care that neither Olivia nor Clayton was showing any signs of friendliness. He slid into the booth on Olivia's other side, stopping just outside her personal space. Her face was frozen into a coldly impassive mask, but Clayton could see irritation and…was that some uncertainty?—in her eyes. "Nick, I'm having dinner. I'm sure your girlfriend would like to order as well."
"My girlfriend. You're supposed to be my girlfriend." He inched closer.
Jesus, what an asshole. He keeps scooting over like that she's gonna belt him one. Come to think of it, if he keeps this up I'm gonna belt him.
"It's been a very long time since I was your anything, Nick," Olivia snapped, not even trying to be polite anymore. "Just go away."
"You do know what she does for a living?" Nick addressed Clayton, completely ignoring Olivia. "She investigates sex crimes. Like, kids getting raped and stuff. I always wondered if she got her kicks looking at those photos."
Clayton rose from the booth involuntarily. What the hell was this guy thinking, saying that in front of a restaurant full of people? Heads were turning at nearby tables at the commotion.
"Go away, Nick," Olivia hissed, all pretense of politeness gone.
"No. You go. Sick people like you shouldn't be around decent people like us."
Oh, that was enough. Clayton waved a hand to a nearby server, who disappeared and came back moments later with the manager. "Can I help you, sir?" the manager asked Clayton.
"My friend and I are trying to enjoy our dinner. Please see to it that this civilian stops bothering us." His tone on the word 'civilian' made it sound like a swearword.
The manager turned to the asshole. "I'm sorry, sir, but you'll have to leave."
Ganzner stared at the manager, then at Clayton. "Who the hell is he that he can have me thrown out?" he snapped at the manager.
Hawk stepped out of the booth, took a handful of Ganzner's sleeve, and hauled him upright with one hand. "General Clayton Abernathy, United States Army. That's 'General' with two stars, so I advise you to forget you ever knew Olivia Benson's name." He leaned in close to the other man, his eyes hard as steel. "In fact, you might want to forget you even know who she is."
"No. It's all right. I'm leaving." Olivia got up, grabbing her purse, and said quietly, "Please let me know how much the dinner was and I'll pay you back later." And she was gone.
Clayton paused for a moment. Should I wipe the floor with this cretin, or go after Olivia? The manger solved it for him. "I'll take care of him, sir, if you'd like to step out after your friend. Don't worry about the meal; consider it on the house as our apology for this disturbance." Clayton nodded brusquely and hurried out after Olivia.
She was already halfway down the block heading back toward the precinct; he quick-marched until he caught up with her, then fell into step beside her. "You didn't have to leave. He was the one creating the disturbance, not you."
"I'm sorry I embarrassed you." She stopped walking so suddenly that he passed her by a few strides and had to turn.
"Okay. What is it with you and Alex, apologizing for things that aren't your fault?" He kept his tone light. "And how were you embarrassing me? Whoever that asshole was, he was embarrassing himself."
"Nick and I went out a long time ago. I broke it off when he said he wanted to act out the rape case I was investigating."
Involuntarily Clayton's mind flashed back to Alex's medical file. "Oh my God, I'm surprised you didn't arrest him right there."
Her lips quirked in the beginning of a smile. "Last time I checked, being an asshole wasn't an arrestable offense."
"No, but being a pervert is." He shook his head. "How sick was that?" He peered closely at her. "Hey. You don't think for a moment that I actually believed him when he said you got your kicks from your cases, do you?" She didn't answer. "Let me guess; I just ran into the reason why you're still single. And why you hang out with Alex so much."
She sighed. "Yeah." She faced him squarely, hands on her hips. "And now you have a decision to make."
He frowned. "What decision? Your job is your job. Like being a soldier is mine. I guarantee I've seen worse things than you for sheer goriness, but yours is harder. I don't envy you, I don't know how you and Alex do it, and I'm wondering why so many of the guys you've gone out with couldn't see that it takes a very special person to be able to do the job you do. And how they could not support that special person is beyond me."
A slow smile spread across her face. "I've never had anyone put it that way before."
"Then you haven't met the right people."
Her laugh rang out, and he let go the breath he'd been mentally holding. He had the feeling he'd just passed some kind of internal test. "Obviously I haven't met the right person, or I wouldn't still be single," she said. "All you." They backtracked toward the Hummer, parked by the curb.
Her hand was on the door handle when the first shot rang out.
