For all the canon sticklers, I know that New York abolished its statute of limitations on rape in 2006, BUT this story takes place during the original Alex years, so around 2002 or so, before the statute of limitations was lifted.
Alex and I are sitting across from George Cabot and Trevor Langan in the interrogation room. Her face is blank and her back is ramrod straight, but I see the fear behind her mask.
"How are you planning on proving your case, Counselor?" asks Trevor, sounding more amused than put out.
"He lied on the stand," she replies coolly. "That's a federal crime which carries a prison sentence of up to five years."
"How do you know he lied on the stand?"
She pauses, not knowing what to say.
"What did he lie about?"
"Whether or not he sexually abused his daughters."
Trevor shakes his head, a smile quirking his lips upward. "That's a catch 22, Counselor. Mr. Cabot's daughters are over the age of consent and have been for over a decade. Therefore, the statute of limitations from this alleged abuse will have run out. You can't try him for the crime, therefore the presumption of innocence dictates that he never abused any child. You can't prove perjury unless you can prove the abuse, and you clearly can't."
"I know it happened," snaps Alex.
"How do you know?" asks Trevor, still amused.
I watch her for a moment, wondering what her answer will be, or even if she'll deign to answer at all. Trevor is the only person in this room who doesn't know about Alex's tumultuous childhood, but I'm sure she doesn't want to tell him.
She opens and closes her mouth before saying in a quiet, measured tone, "He did it to me."
George leaps up and cries, "I never abused you, Lexi! I loved you!"
Trevor's expression goes from horrified to relieved and he says, "Well, the statute of limitations expired a long time ago, so you can't touch him. It's your word against his."
Now I want to kill them both and contemplate the best way to do it. Usually, Elliot's the one who takes out his frustrations on the perps, but this is Alex. My best friend. And after last week, maybe something more.
Alex sighs. "We're done." She gets up and strides from the room, her posture immaculate as always, the artificial confidence she emanates on a daily basis shining through.
I glare at Trevor and his client for a moment before following her. "Alex!"
She whirls around, her eyes flashing. "Why did you do that, Olivia?"
That stops me in my tracks. "I – I thought that was what you wanted." Then I wince, realizing how stupid that sounds. I don't want to seem like a lovesick puppy, ready to cater to her every whim. But how can she blame me for this?
"I'm not stupid, Detective. I know that you can't prove perjury unless you prove that the witness was lying and knew he was lying. We can't do that and I don't want to. Now we look like fools and we have to cut him loose."
I just stare at her, and then I get it. She was just bluffing to get him to talk. She never wanted her childhood trauma exposed, especially in open court, which is what would have to happen to prove perjury. "I'm sorry," I stammer. It's more to appease her than out of any real remorse, because even though I feel bad about what I did, it's not my fault. I tried to do what I thought was right, what I thought she wanted me to do.
"Too late," she snaps, starting to power walk toward the door. "Do you know how hard that was for me? And you. You didn't say a word."
"I thought you wouldn't want me to," I try to explain, matching my stride to hers. I'm not sure whether I'm defending myself or justifying my actions or just telling her how it was, but it's true. Alex never likes it when she thinks I'm trying to protect her. She says she can take care of herself. Maybe she can and maybe she can't. Maybe she shouldn't have to, but I didn't want to go into Protective Olivia mode and get my head bitten off later.
She stops and turns to face me, glaring at me with the look that sends the most hardened criminals running in the other direction. Slowly and deliberately, she says, "You are going to go back in there and send him home."
I stare at her. "But – don't you want –?"
"Don't you get it? It doesn't matter what I want. We can't hold him, so send him home." Then more quietly, she says, "We can't go through this again."
"Alex, he killed a little girl! And he beat you. And he raped you."
Very purposefully, she says, "Cut. Him. Loose." It isn't a request anymore. It's an order.
"You were just a child. You didn't deserve that. No one does."
Her voice rises again. "I'm not a victim, Olivia, so don't treat me like one! Do you see what I mean now? You're doing exactly what I thought you'd do if you knew, which is why I never told you!"
That stops me for a moment. And then I realize she's right. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry. Just for once in your life, accept that I know what I'm talking about and do as I say. Do you want a lawsuit on your hands?"
I don't. So, almost mechanically, I turn around and walk back to the interrogation room. Through clenched teeth, I growl, "You can go. The charges are dropped."
George Cabot smirks. "Thank you, Detective. And tell my Lexi I love her, okay?"
Before I can stop myself, I have him on the ground and I'm kicking, kicking, kicking. It's almost as if some evil demon has taken over my body and I have no control. I don't even know what I'm doing. I just have to stop him, before he hurts my Alex any further. He will haunt her until he's dead and if this is what I need to do to protect her, then so be it.
"Whoa, Detective!" I feel strong arms pulling me away and I don't even resist. "Police brutality!"
Just as suddenly as I went into it, I snap out of the trance. Shit. I just beat the crap out of a suspect, with his defense attorney looking on. But this isn't just any suspect. This is the man who raped my strong, beautiful Alex Cabot. The woman I love.
"You can go," I repeat, stepping away from him so I don't lunge again and attack him. "But we'll be watching you."
He gets to his feet and brushes himself off. "Tell her I'll be in touch."
I grab onto the table to steady myself. "Get out!"
And he does, throwing me a self-satisfied smile over his shoulder. He's won this round and he knows it.
Duh duh duh! So . . . what now? Review to find out!
