"Wine, Emma?"

"Look at this face. Does this look like a wine face to you?" Emma hopped up on the bar stool and rapped her fingernails against the custom-made mahogany bar. "Captain Morgan gold," she ordered. She turned on the bar stool, long legs ensconced in black pantyhose and strappy heels. 'Renew' was another success in her professional life. But as the neon danced against the new glass walls, she felt empty somehow. It had been almost a month since Mark's death, and she continued to curse his victory over her. He was peaceful, and here she was, edgy and bitchy to most everyone who crossed her path.

The bartender tapped her on the shoulder, and she turned and downed the drink in a fluid motion. The drops of rum teetered on the edge of the glass, and she knocked it against the wood again. "More, please." Behind her, a club version of Vertical Horizon's 'We Are' bounced off the black tile that covered the spot where Alex had been victimized. Emma had wanted to burn the remainder of the building to the ground after what had happened, but money and time had once again gotten the better of her. She wasn't sure she'd ever forgive herself for that decision; it was the least she owed Alex.

The past few weeks hadn't been easy for her unshakeable sister, who had been rocked to her core. She dove into work, shutting everything else out under the guise of needing to regroup. Her voice was laden with exhaustion all the time, her eyes a dismal gray. She carried the weight of Emma's choices on her shoulders, and each time she saw her sister, Emma thought back to the fight they'd had after she'd received the first letter from Mark. You could never understand. What she wouldn't give to take those words back, to take it all back.

Emma rubbed her forehead with manicured nails, watching the crowd, who were completely oblivious to the torrent of guilt and pain writhing through her. She wanted to scream, get them all out of there, get them to realize that with every step they took, she was losing the last grip of life she had in her. She threw back another shot of the rum, and returned it to the bartender without a glance or a wiry word. She needed to breathe; the back room summoned her, and she responded, a moth to the flame of potential calm. She avoided the missteps of liquor board invitees and slammed the door quickly. She leaned against it, sighing heavily. She moved to her desk and pulled out a bottle of pills her psychiatrist had prescribed, swallowing two dry. He said she was depressed; she felt manic and feral, completely out of control. And she hated every minute of it. But what was there to do? She caught a glimpse of herself in the sterling silver mirror hanging on the opposite wall. Every hair was in place, the dress fit perfectly, and that fake perma-smile was just convincing enough. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, returning to the bar and ordering herself a nice, strong rum and Coke.

Her strong hand gripped Emma's shoulder almost too tightly, having sought out the familiar face in a gulf of strangers. "Trying to drown your success?" Olivia asked lightly, her concern hidden transparently behind a sisterly smile of pride.

Emma turned quickly, knocking her elbow into the corner of the bar. "Nah, just wallowing over the fact that my sister is MIA again," she answered deftly, motioning Joey, her new favorite bartender, over to quench Olivia's thirst. "I'm glad you could come, though. Maybe this means I can convince you to mosh one of these days, after all."

"Not a chance, Cabot." Olivia shook her head, declining a drink. "Alex isn't here?"

Emma shook her head. "I left her a couple of voicemail messages, but she never got back to me. Such is life in the big city, I suppose." She motioned to the dance floor. "A little bit better than the last time you saw it, huh?"

Turning, Olivia cast a quick glance across the crowded club. "Looks good," she confirmed, a note of pride lingering in her voice. "You did a great job with it." Without her consent, the detective's eyes slithered to the black-tiled floor, shimmering now under the strobe lights. A shy month ago, that floor had been the seat of unspeakable horror, inflicted upon her partner. Olivia shivered, her gaze wandering back to Emma's strained face; the tiny lines etched across her forehead spoke volumes about all that the three of them had been through, and the guilt she felt that her husband and stepfather had been the cause of it. Responding to the pain Olivia saw, or imagined she saw, the detective murmured over the music, "I'm really proud of you, Em." For everything, was the unspoken addendum.

Emma knew what she said only by the movement of her lips, and she smiled, raising her glass in acknowledgement. "I haven't talked to you in a while," she said after a moment. "How's life?"

"Hectic." Olivia mentally backtracked to the last time she'd spoken to Alex, distracted by her failure to appear at the opening. She knew how important tonight was to Emma, and Alex wouldn't have missed it for anything less important than a major case. "I'm gonna go try Alex's cell, okay? 'Scuse me." She squeezed her way through the crowd toward the door, dialing the number as she stepped out into the warm autumn night. When she got no answer, Olivia tried the office, catching the last secretary on her way home. "Hi, Janice, this is Detective Benson. I have a question about a case," she covered, the familiar lie coming easily. "Is ADA Cabot around?"

"No, Detective, she left early today; about three, I think. You might try her cell. Do you have that number?" Janice asked helpfully.

"Yeah, thanks, I'll do that." Olivia hung up, frustrated. Where was Alex, and why hadn't she come? She was starting to get truly concerned.

The phone vibrated against the wood of the coffee table, and Alex moved her feet to see its faceplate blinking at her. She sighed and sat up, reluctant to move from her exceptionally comfortable position on her couch. Her slender fingers grasped at the end of the phone and dragged it toward her, and her brow furrowed as she saw Olivia's number appear on the Caller ID. She pressed 'talk' quickly and spoke into the phone. "Hey."

"Alex," Olivia sighed in relief. "Where are you? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." Alex ran a hand through her messy hair, squinting at the clock on top of the TV. "Shit, is it nine already?"

Olivia lowered her voice, trying to keep the conversation as private as possible on a busy city street on a Friday night. "Yeah. You missed most of the opening. Are you okay?" she asked again.

"Damn it," Alex swore under her breath, flipping off the TV. "I'm fine. I fell asleep," she confessed, "and lost track of time. Is Emma pissed?"

"No. She's disappointed, though." Olivia couldn't conceal her concern as a weary sigh escaped her. Trying to keep up with the emotional roller coaster that was the Cabot sisters was quite draining. "Do you need a ride? I lifted a car from work."

"No. I can be there in twenty minutes." She stood, stretching languidly. "Will you still be there?"

"I'll wait for you," Olivia promised. "I - I miss you."

Alex smiled, shimmying into her skirt quickly, and dropping the oversized sweatpants she'd changed into, kicking them deftly back in the general vicinity of her bedroom. "I miss you, too," she replied. "I'll see you in a bit."

She arrived promptly, still tired, but hiding it well. Olivia was waiting for her outside the club, and Alex smiled again as she climbed out of the cab. "Hey," she said, eyeing Olivia's snug jeans, concerned and pleased as her heart started to race. "Thanks for waiting."

"Sure." Olivia raked her eyes over Alex, taking in the disheveled clothes and mussed hair. She trusted her girlfriend implicitly, but something was amiss. Stepping close, Olivia rested a protective hand on the small of Alex's back.

"How's the party?" Alex asked as Olivia ushered her towards the club's front door. Alex had to stop a minute and look at the renovated building. The entire front was glass and steel, and offered a direct line of sight into her personal hellhole. She cleared her throat and took a tiny step back, her shoe scraping against the concrete.

"It's..." Olivia trailed off, turning to look at Alex with a determined stare. "You don't have to go in," she reminded the attorney. "Emma would understand completely."

Alex shook her head, and took determined steps to the front door. She threw it open, hit in the face by Robert Miles' 'Fable'. She saw her sister, and reached behind her for Olivia's hand. "Better late than never, right?"

Emma turned slowly on the stool, and offered her sister a smile after a moment. "You look like shit."

"I feel like shit," Alex replied, ordering a glass of wine. "Nice place."

"Shoulda gutted it," Emma slurred, leaning against her bent elbow. "Woulda been nicer as a parking lot."

Alex shook her head. "It's good," she replied. "Very good."

"She's right," Olivia agreed. "It's beautiful." Her arm instinctively went to Alex's waist.

Alex stiffened against the contact, but forced herself to take a deep breath and relax. Emma didn't seem to pick up on her sister's discomfort, and continued sipping her drink. "Where were you?" she asked her sister.

"Home. I crashed as soon as I walked in the door." Alex offered a small apologetic smile. "It's been a long week."

"Alex," Emma started quietly, knowing full well that under normal circumstances, her sister wouldn't have even gone home between work and a function, "are you okay?"

Alex shook her head and finished her wine. "Why does everyone keep asking me that? I'm fine, Emma Katherine. How are you?" The question was not meant as a polite inquiry; instead, its biting tone fed off frustration and disdain.

"Shitty," she repeated, raising her glass. "How are you, Olivia?"

Olivia's reply of "Crappadelic," was cut off by the shrill indicator on her cell phone. "Benson," she answered, head rolling back in frustration. "Where? Yeah, I'll be there." She hung up, and offered an apologetic smile to the sisters. "Duty calls. You did a great job, Em."

Emma smiled again, finishing off her drink. "Thanks."

Olivia grabbed her jacket and squeezed Alex's shoulder. "I'll call you later."

Alex nodded. "Sounds good."

Both sisters watched as Olivia disappeared through the crowd, and it wasn't until she was clear of the club that Emma whistled lowly. "Would you like to explain to me why there's frost on my newly painted floor, Alexandra?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Alex asked, taking another sip of her drink.

"I'm talking about you, the sucky-face twins, who could barely say two words to each other in the ten minutes you were together. That's not like you."

Alex shrugged. "Maybe I just don't feel up to it right now."

Emma shook her head. "You haven't been feeling up to anything much lately, Allie. What's the matter?"

"For the last time, nothing's the matter. Just give it up, all right?"

"Do I need to separate you two?" The gruff voice was teasing, but also concerned. Emma shook her head as she slid off the bar stool, hugging Donald. "Alex is being a party pooper."

"She's mad I didn't have sex with Olivia on the bar," Alex corrected.

"Thanks for that visual, Al," Emma retorted. She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, leaning in closer to Cragen. "Someone added extra bitch flakes to her breakfast today."

"Emma, just shut up," Alex bit back, turning her head away from her sister's hurt gaze. Emma muttered something about going to talk to one of the promoters, and left her seat vacant. Without hesitation, Cragen sat down next to Alex, hooking his foot under her stool and turning him to face her. "What the hell was that?"

Alex sighed, rubbing her temples. "I don't know. It's just been a long week."

"You've said that every week for a month now," Cragen replied. "Cut the BS and talk to me, Cabot."

Alex shrugged. "What do you want me to say? I don't feel like talking much right now, to Emma, or to anybody. You know that."

"Are you seeing that therapist Huang recommended?"

"What business is that of yours?" Alex shook her head, a disbelieving smile on her face.

"Like it or not, Cabot, you are my business." Cragen's tone was uncompromising. "I understand you need time to yourself, time to make sense of everything that's happened to you. But you're shutting yourself completely out of everything, including the three people who love you the most. That can't be helping your current state."

"I really don't want to talk to you about this, especially here," Alex replied after a moment, rising to leave. She stopped as Don's hand curled around her arm gently. She gasped and pulled hurriedly away, and he was struck by the pain and fear in her eyes.

"Then let's go somewhere," he pressed gently. "You know I would never hurt you, and look what you did when I touched you. That's not normal, Alex."

"Suddenly we live in a normal world. How quaint." They shared a silent stare for a moment until she broke down and nodded. "I guess I could use a cup of coffee."

"Good." Cragen helped her into her coat and quickly donned his own. He offered a quick wave to Emma, and ushered Alex into the fall evening. They walked down to the nearest café and he noted the pain in his chest as her dull eyes scanned the menu. She wore her defeat like a colored cloak now. It wasn't the first time she had faced injustice, but it was the first time she had been so thoroughly violated. Alexandra Cabot had always bounced back from heartache – evidenced by her determination after the Cavanaugh case - but now, something was still amiss. Cragen tentatively covered her hand with his, and her eyes met his. "Talk to me, Alex."

She leaned back against the booth, not sure why she was even there; she'd much rather be alone. She had pushed everyone away after the Mark incident; she and Olivia were drifting apart again. Life constantly kicked her while she was down, no matter how hard she fought to get back up. It was becoming harder and harder to find her feet, no matter how much she wanted to brush herself off and begin anew. But now, as she sat and looked at the man who, even after all this time, was still a trusted friend, a part of her pain broke away, and she ached to be held. "What do you want me to say?" she finally asked, adding milk to her coffee.

"Why was Emma ribbing you about Olivia?"

"She thought she sensed a tension, I guess," Alex replied, stressing the word 'thought'.

"Is there tension?"

"Who are you, Dr. Phil?" Alex couldn't contain a chuckle. "You know I haven't been very social with anyone in the past few weeks. If there's tension between me and Olivia, there also must be tension with you and Emma."

"There is." His voice didn't betray the hurt and concern he'd felt since the minute he walked in to her hospital room four long weeks ago; it was a simple statement of fact. "You're so tense, Alex. You're snappy, short and angry. That's not like you."

She looked away, his hurtful words affecting her more than she would have liked. "I think I'm entitled."

"To be affected? Hell yeah. Of course. But how many times did you tell Emma to get over it? Not to let one little incident rock her entire world? That's what you're doing. The further you go in, the less likely it is that you'll come out intact. And you know what happens when you're bitter and angry for a long period of time."

She crinkled her nose. "No. What happens?"

"You end up like me." There was a pause before he smiled, and she smiled briefly in return. "So unless you want to look like me when you're my age, I suggest you let out all the shit now."

Alex licked her lips in thought. "I feel…disconnected," she began, sipping her coffee. "I have no desire to do anything, really, no desire to work any of this out. I'm just tired."

Seeing she was going to need an intense amount of prodding, Cragen offered his hypothesis. "Maybe part of that is you don't want people seeing you as a victim. Separating yourself from people, not working 'this' out with anyone, lets you keep your emotions in control. Working through the stuff you feel could throw that out of balance, make you lose control."

"And I hate that," Alex agreed, "but I don't think it's losing control that I'm so worried about."

"Then what?" Cragen pressed after she stopped speaking.

After an agonizing silence in which Alex stirred her coffee at least a dozen times, she shut her eyes briefly before offering a tiredly determined gaze. "My thoughts, everything I'm feeling…they're very jumbled and disorganized. I can't make heads or tails of them; how can anyone else?"

Cragen brushed his thumb over her knuckles. "Do you remember how many times you tried out opening and closing arguments on me? How you edited after talking it through? You've always been better at gathering your thoughts when you have an audience."

She thought back to her mid-twenties, her ease and familiarity with him flooding her senses. When she didn't speak, Cragen went a step further. "I think that you've convinced yourself that if you talk about this, people will think less of you." As she opened her mouth to object, Cragen cocked his head and raised his eyebrows. "You don't want anyone to see your vulnerability."

Alex busied herself with fixing her newly refilled cup of coffee before she cupped her chin in her hand, pondering Cragen's points. "I just don't know anymore, Don. I feel like I'm going crazy."

"You've always been crazy," he kidded gently, happy when she swatted his hand playfully. "Look, Alex, I don't care who you confide in, or who you talk to about this. I just want you to take care of yourself. Do what you have to do to survive."

"Who can I go to?" Alex asked, feeling lost. "Look at tonight. That's a pretty good example of the damn fine job I've done of pushing everyone away."

"You didn't push me away," Cragen pointed out. "Well, okay, you tried. But I'm still here, aren't I? And so are Olivia and Emma. We just want to help you, in whatever way we can."

"I don't think Olivia wants much to do with me," Alex replied with a sigh.

"I highly doubt that. But that's not the point. What do you want to do? What makes you feel most comfortable?"

"This is pretty good," Alex admitted.

"Then let's start here," Cragen responded easily. As Alex looked into his caring eyes, the part of her pain that was still aching to be held started to feel soothed. She leaned back against the booth and took a deep breath. The words that poured out of her were a litany of discomfort and fear, and they encompassed thirty days of running the gamut of emotions from embarrassment to terror. She bared her soul to him for a good hour and three more cups of coffee. Cragen didn't mind the disorganization of her thoughts, her aphasia as she tried to put her feelings into words; he simply sat across from her, holding her hand. When she was could say no more, he said nothing either, just guided her out of the booth into a strong hug. He kissed the top of her head. "I'm proud of you."

She chuckled against his shoulder and wiped her teary eyes. He leaned back and regarded her. "You want a ride home?"

Alex pondered it for a moment and then shook her head, a halfway enthusiastic smile crossing her drained face at the request that entered her head. "You know, I really don't feel like being alone right now."

"Step one," Cragen encouraged. "Let's grab a pizza, go crash at my place. We could talk some more."

Alex nodded, pulling her coat back on. "That sounds really great." This time, as he ushered her into the night, he ventured his hand on the small of her back. Both of them were pleased when she didn't pull away.

* * *

As Cragen hung her coat on the coat rack, Alex eyed the portable phone. "Can I call Emma?"

He nodded. "Of course. I'll go make some coffee."

Alex shook her head and crinkled her nose. "I'm coffeed out. Got anything else?"

"I'll see what I can find. Call your sister."

Alex picked up the phone as he retreated into the kitchen, and dialed Emma's number. She picked up on the third ring, and from the silence in the background, it was obvious Emma had forgone her tradition of inviting some of the opening guests back to her apartment for a nightcap. "Hey, it's Alex."

"Hi," Emma replied. "What's up?"

"Not much. Listen, Em, I wanted to apologize for earlier. I didn't mean to take my frustration out on you."

"Sure you did. But I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have ragged on you the way I did. I know you're sensitive these days."

"That's the thing, Emma. I didn't even realize just how oversensitive I was. But I'm working on it."

There was a slight pause as Emma smiled. "I'm really glad to hear that, Allie. Admitting it is the first step. And you know I'm here to help in whatever way I can, right?"

Alex nodded, smiling herself. "I know. Thanks, kid."

"No problem. Where are you, anyway?"

"At Don's."

"Ah," Emma nodded in understanding. "He shanghaied you into talking."

"Maybe it's what I needed," Alex pointed out. "Either way, I just wanted to apologize, and let you know that I'm on my way to being okay."

"You have no idea how happy I am to hear that," Emma said sincerely. "Well, you have fun at Donald's, and I'll give you a call sometime this weekend, okay?"

"Will do, baby sister. Thanks."

"No problem. Love you, Allie."

Alex's smile widened. "I love you, too, Emma. Bye." She disconnected, not surprised when she heard Cragen clear his throat and reenter the living room. "Emma sends her love."

Cragen chuckled, handing her a beer. "It's all I had."

"It's fine," Alex replied, settling into his couch. "Hard to believe it's almost November."

"You still got a couple of weeks," Cragen commented, sitting next to her. "What is Emma going to be for Halloween this year?"

Alex laughed, the sound virtually foreign to her ears. "I don't know," she answered, resting her head against the pillows.

"How are you feeling?" Cragen asked after a moment of silence.

"Not much like talking," Alex admitted.

"Okay," Cragen replied immediately, reaching for the remote. "I think there's a hockey game on."

Midway through the second period, Alex's head had dropped from the couch to Cragen's shoulder, and her breath started to even out as she drifted towards sleep. Cragen looked down at her, her worried face once again porcelain in slumber, and kissed the top of her head again. "Sleep well, Alexandra." He started to move away, stopping as she wrapped her hand around his wrist.

"Stay," she whispered, eyes still closed.

"The couch isn't big enough for the both of us," Cragen whispered back, easing her head onto another pillow, and covering her with a blanket. He knelt down beside her, brushing a few stray blonde strands away from her eyes. "I'll be in the next room if you need me. You just sleep."

Alex nestled into the pillows. "Thank you."

"Always." Cragen rose, putting the television on a sleep timer, remembering how she liked to fall asleep to the drone of the set. He paused as he went towards his bedroom, watching her sleep. His heart was full of love for her again, but he pushed those thoughts out, settling for being happy he could help.

* * *

Alex strode into the SVU division the following Monday, her steps once again confident. She had spent a good part of the weekend at Donald's, talking when she felt like it - or when he felt she was holding out on him. She wasn't sure how she felt about him being the one she opened up to; there was a part of her that thought she should have talked to Olivia first. But, as Don had said, Alex needed to follow her own gut and do what she thought would help her most. Before she could talk to Olivia in-depth about her psychological trauma, Alex knew they needed to be on firmer relationship ground. So she gave herself two assignments: get her girlfriend back, and continue her "coffee talk" therapy sessions with Cragen.

Glancing up from his paperwork - of which there seemed to be more with each passing day - Elliot grinned at Alex as she entered the squad room. "Mornin', Alex." Despite the obvious distance between the ADA and his partner, she and the squad had remained on good terms, beyond their professional relationships. "You look like you're feeling better."

"I'm feeling better, thanks." Alex cleared her throat. "Morning, Olivia."

"Hey, Alex." Olivia's mahogany-tinted voice sounded gravelly to her own ears. Clearing her throat, she managed a half-smile. "How's tricks?"

"Good, thanks." Alex motioned to Cragen's office, then looked back at Olivia. "I have to drop off some paperwork with your boss, and then I was going to do a coffee run. Anyone care to join me?"

"No, thanks," Elliot replied with a discreet glance at Olivia. "I've got - uh - paperwork."

Olivia met Elliot's glance and glared at him for a second before turning back to Alex. "Sure," she acquiesced after a pause. "I've gotta talk to you about the Jackson case, anyway."

"Sounds good. Be right back." Alex made her way to Cragen's office, dropping off the file folder without comment. Cragen's amused chuckle followed her back into the bullpen, and she stopped by Olivia's desk. "I'll have her back in ten to help you with that paperwork, Elliot."

"No hurry." Elliot shook his head as they walked out of the squad room. All of a sudden, his brow furrowed in confusion as the detective muttered to himself. "Wait a second. We don't have a Jackson case."

The two women walked in silence down the block to a Starbucks, and as they waited for their orders, Alex turned to Olivia, her heart in her throat. "I wanted to talk to you, if you have a couple of minutes."

"Yeah." Olivia took the offered cups and inclined her head for Alex to pick a table.

Alex sat towards the back of the cafe, removing the lid from her coffee, allowing the steam to warm her face momentarily. "I wanted to apologize for how I've treated you over the past couple of weeks. I...I really didn't know how to deal, and I shut you out in the cold. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Olivia played with the cardboard holder on her cup. "I know you're just trying to get through this."

"'Trying' being the operative word," Alex agreed. "It's a long road back. But I guess you know that."

Nodding, Olivia looked up and met Alex's eyes. Her heart melted, but she managed to stay together, although she wasn't sure how she did it. "According to Emma, Cragen's been pretty helpful."

"Yeah, he has." Alex wasn't sure what to say next; she didn't want Olivia to think she had chosen Cragen over her, but in a way, she had. She took a sip of the strong coffee in the interim. "He's a good friend."

"I'm glad." Olivia sipped at her drink, welcoming the warmth after the crispness of the October day. "I've missed you," she said softly, toying with the rim of her cup.

"I miss you, too," Alex replied, smiling gently. "I just wasn't very good company for a while there."

Her voice a whispery fragment of her usual bravado, Olivia replied, "I always like having you around."

"I was pretty scared to be around you," Alex admitted. "I didn't like feeling like a victim, and I didn't want you seeing me that way." The words that she'd fought so hard to understand came more easily now, although they still cut her to the core.

Reaching out, Olivia laid her hand palm up on the table, hoping Alex would appreciate her gesture of solidarity. "I never saw you as anything other than you, Alex. You're not what happens to you. You are who you are."

Alex extended her hand slightly, brushing her fingertips against Olivia's. "I'm feeling less and less like me. I guess I'm doubting whether or not you want to deal with the changes in me since that day."

Staring her girlfriend down, Olivia shook her head in disbelief. "Do you think I'm that fickle?" she asked quietly. "Just because you were hurt, I wouldn't...God, Alex." She expelled a heavy breath. "Doesn't 'I love you' mean anything any more?"

"I wasn't implying you were anything but sincere," Alex replied quickly, leaning back against her chair, her head once again dizzy from the confusion. "I didn't know how to come to you. I mean, I love you. But that's a scary thing, especially for me - you know how used I am to being alone and working out my problems independently. I guess I felt like my entire world was rocked that day, and every foundation I held steadfast and true was shaken, even if it wasn't. You may not have doubted me, but I sure as hell did." Alex brushed her hair behind her ear. "Am I making any kind of sense, or should I just shut up before our heads explode?"

Laughing softly, Olivia shook her head. "You never make sense, but it's okay. I missed your train-of-thought rambling." Her eyes warmed to the color of hot cocoa. "So does this mean I get to eat real food again? I missed Emma's mashed potatoes like you wouldn't believe."

"Just because you and I were on the outs didn't mean you couldn't get her to cook for you. Right now, you're her favorite sister." Alex relaxed, and her smile was genuine. "I really want us to work. But I'm still having a lot of trouble opening up. That's not your problem, it's mine. Are you sure you want to wait around for my neurotic ass?"

"As long as you keep trying, I'll keep trying," Olivia volunteered. "Emma's really worried, you know."

"I know. I talked to her on Friday, though, explained as best I could, and apologized. I'll talk to her more in-depth later." Alex took another sip of her coffee, watching Olivia's slender fingers toy with her own cup. "Are we okay?"

Olivia tested out a genuine smile of happiness. Still fits. "Yeah," she replied softly. "We're okay."

"Good." Alex squeezed Olivia's hand briefly. "I guess we should get back."

"Probably." The detective's eyes were filled with a hunger she'd been reining in for over a month. "Can I - can we get together tonight?"

Alex pondered the thought for all of thirty milliseconds before nodding. "Emma's making ziti. Maybe we can steal some."

* * *

"Allie!" Emma bellowed, carefully removing the aluminum foil from the top of her ziti pan. "Alexandra!" When her sister didn't reply, Emma left her dish on the counter and raced for the door, pausing briefly enough to open it. She raced back to the kitchen, calling over her shoulder. "Sorry about that, Olivia. I don't know where that God-awful sister of mine is. She was on door duty and then she disappeared."

"She's probably hoarding garlic bread," Olivia replied easily, stepping into the apartment and closing the door. She hung her coat on the rack, inhaling deeply. "Oh, Emma, how I've missed you," she sing-songed. "You, and your little ziti, too." Turning the corner into the kitchen, Olivia wrapped an arm around Emma's waist, hugging her tightly.

Emma giggled, then shooed Olivia away for the moment. "This has to go back in the oven for a couple of minutes. Careful, it's hot." She maneuvered around the kitchen, putting the tray back in the oven. She started searching her cupboards, cursing the new, unfamiliar apartment layout. "You want something to drink?"

"Yeah. You have Merlot?" Olivia asked, peering into a cabinet in search of wine glasses.

Emma pointed to the cabinet next to the refrigerator. "Apparently you and I haven't met. I'm Alexandra 'I only drink red wine' Cabot's sister. Check the cabinet underneath the sink; there should be a new bottle there."

"Thanks." Olivia went in search of the wine, returning with a fresh bottle and the corkscrew. She opened the wine and set it aside to breathe.

"Okay. Let me go find Allie for you. Can you watch the garlic bread, make sure it doesn't burn?" Emma rinsed off her hands, and dried them on her jeans.

"Sure." Olivia peered into the oven, her stomach rumbling loudly at the sight of the bread, crispy and golden.

"Thanks." Emma exited the kitchen and walked the short distance to her bedroom, knocking on the door once before pushing the already ajar door open. She saw her sister, standing, looking at herself in the mirror. Alex was readjusting her black turtleneck and adjusting her low-rise jeans on her hips. "You don't have to seduce her, you know," Emma joked, moving to her closet and finding a nicer sweatshirt than her beat-up Brown University garb.  "She's already in love with you."

Alex turned swiftly, her heart racing as Emma's voice shook her from her reverie. "What?" She shook her head. "I know that. I just want to look halfway decent. I feel grimy."

"You showered an hour ago. Now, unless you found those videotapes that aren't mine, you should be fine." Emma changed quickly and smiled at her sister. "Go on. Olivia's liable to eat the garlic bread if you don't get out there fast."

Alex chuckled, putting on her glasses. "Why am I nervous?"

"Because you're weird," Emma replied. "Go on."

Alex padded barefoot into the kitchen, stopping to watch Olivia lean against the counter, tilting her head back in taking a sip of wine. Alex cleared her throat and entered the kitchen fully. "Hey."

Turning fully, Olivia set her glass on the counter. Her heart raced as she saw the familiar gold-rimmed specs that always set it aflutter. "Nice outfit," she commented with a grin.

Alex shrugged. "I spend most of my evenings in beat up sweatpants and a sweatshirt that saw its best days during the 'Flashdance' era. I felt like looking like a real person tonight." She reached around Olivia and poured herself a glass of wine. "How are you?"

"Better now," Olivia admitted. "It was a pretty bad day, but being here...I feel better."

Alex smiled. "I'm glad to hear that." She took another sip of wine, mulling her thoughts. "So, what's new?"

"Since I talked to you this morning?" Olivia smirked just a little. "Not a whole lot." Her eyes traveled the course of Alex's elegant legs, admiring her snug jeans. Raising her eyes, Olivia met Alex's with a blushing grin.

Alex readjusted the glasses on her face. "Well, I haven't talked much with you lately, so I figured something might have happened in the interim."

A shiver ran up Olivia's spine, making her heart skip a beat. "Nope. Nothing new; just work, work and more work."

The timer on the oven started to buzz, and Alex leaned past Olivia, calling to her sister. "It's making that noise again!" she teased, and Emma's delighted giggle announced her arrival back into the kitchen.

"It tends to do that when the food is finished cooking," Emma explained slowly, pulling the ziti and the garlic bread out of the oven. "Alex, will you set the table for me?"

"Yup." Alex grabbed a few plates and headed into the small enclave where Emma had set up a dining area. She had moved out of her and Mark's old apartment, into a smaller one closer to Alex, and the space difference was affecting all of them.

Emma snuck a piece of the Italian sausage simmering in the pan beside the ziti, offering the Cabot grin at Olivia. "I'm glad you could come over," she said, searching her drawers for a serving spoon.

"How could I not?" Olivia teased, taking the pan of ziti in potholder-covered hands and escorting it to the table. "Alex promised me food," she chuckled, setting the glass casserole dish on a quilted hot plate. "And she also promised me she wouldn't be cooking it."

"Sheesh," Alex replied, folding a napkin under the last fork she'd set down, "you two are a tough crowd. You set fire to your stove once and you never live it down."

"It was a classic moment in Alexandra Cabot history," Emma agreed, bringing the garlic bread in from the kitchen. Alex sat down at the small table, waiting as Emma dished out the food, struck by the realization that for the first time in a month, she was actually relaxing. She raised her wine glass. "To you two, for not running as far away from me as you could get."

Emma raised her own glass with one hand, cutting off a hunk of garlic bread and putting it on Olivia's plate with the other. "To you, for not running anymore."

"Hear, hear," Alex agreed with a grin. "Hey, why does she get that much bread?"

"Because I like her better," Emma replied, sitting down and starting on her pasta.

Laughing softly, Olivia dug into her own dinner, watching Alex with concerned eyes all the while. After a few bites, she leaned back, laying her fork on the rim of her plate. "God, Em, that's incredible."

Emma grinned, refilling their wine glasses. "I'm just glad I have someone else to cook for!"

Alex helped herself to a few generous bites of her own, scooping some of the pasta and sauce onto her slice of garlic bread. Juxtaposing that hedonistic action with a dainty wipe of her mouth and a swirling of the Merlot, Alex matched Olivia's posture, raising her eyebrows as she watched the detective look at her. "Do I have cheese hanging from my chin or something?"

Chuckling, Olivia shook her head. "Nope. Just...soaking it all up."

Alex nodded warily. "Okay then."

Emma chuckled at seeing the two of them together again, and was glad the ice cap on their relationship had begun to melt. "Hey, I got some good news today from Homicide. There's not enough evidence to warrant a murder charge in Mark's death, so they're closing it as self-defense."

Olivia met Emma's eyes with a solemn smile. Raising her wineglass, she toasted, "To justice."

Emma grinned and raised her glass, noting the pause her sister took in doing the same. "I was pretty stoked. Any word from IAB for you?"

"Yeah." Olivia glanced uncomfortably between the sisters. "Uh...they recommended a psych evaluation but no punitive measures. The investigation's been Administratively Closed, which basically means that since there's no one to complain on Mark's behalf and they have no evidence of premeditation on my part, they had to give up."

"All right," Emma enthused, looking to Alex's encouraging nod. "So, I couldn't decide what to do for dessert. I have cannoli and tiramisu. I know Alex wants the latter; what do you want, Liv? I just need to thaw them a little bit."

"Cannoli sounds great, but I don't know if I'll have room," Olivia said, eyeing her empty plate.

"That's why God invented Tupperware," Emma pointed out, clearing their plates. "Al, you still working?"

Alex nodded. "I'm not the great Hoovers you two are."

"I resemble that remark," Emma teased, moving back into the kitchen.

Alex took a few more bites of her dinner and looked at Olivia. "That's good about IAB. I was worried they wouldn't drop it."

"Yeah, they didn't have much to go on." We didn't leave them any evidence to work with, she corrected mentally. "Mark was a sociopath, and he wouldn't have stopped until Emma was dead. We had no choice."

"I'm not disagreeing," Alex said. "It just acts as more impetus for all of us to put this behind us, to start over with a clean slate."

Shrugging slightly, Olivia chose her words carefully. "I don't think we ever have a clean slate, Alex. We just move on and deal with the past as it comes back into view every once in a while." She had no idea how precipitous her words actually were.

Alex nodded, placing her fork on the edge of her plate. "Well, stuff me with breadcrumbs and call me Butterball. I haven't eaten that much in ages."

"I heard that!" Emma exclaimed, coming back into the dining room. "That's my line. Don't I get commission or something?"

"Let me think about that. Uh, no." Alex replied, pushing her chair back and heading towards the kitchen. Emma deftly swiped the plate out of her hands. "New apartment, old rules. You are not allowed in the kitchen unless supervised by three adults, two of whom should have weapons of some kind. So go relax on the couch or something."

"I can clear my own plate, thanks," Alex replied, reaching for the dish.

"Don't make me sic Olivia on you," Emma warned, moving back into the kitchen.

Alex shook her head, looking down at Olivia. "Did she get more annoying in the past month?"

"Yup. I think it's a reaction to the Prozac," Olivia joked, reaching for her refilled wineglass. "Why don't we just do what she says?" she suggested. "It's easier than trying to reason with the child."

Alex shrugged. "Sounds good to me." She walked the short distance to Emma's plush couch, sinking into the leather easily. "It's surprising how, even after spending many nights on different kinds of couches, I don't get sick of them."

"That could be really kinky if I thought about it just right," Olivia chuckled, claiming the seat next to Alex.

It took Alex a moment to understand the reference, but when she did, she giggled, quite amused. "Well, thanks for the great amount of trust in me, Detective Benson. It's really encouraging."

Olivia took another sip of wine, then leaned over and set her glass on the coffee table. "So how've you been?" she asked seriously. "I mean...I know how...it's getting better?" she finished quietly.

"I feel better," Alex answered, pulling her knees underneath her body. "Immediately after the whole thing, I just wanted to curl up and pretend it never happened. That made me pull away from everyone who reminded me of him - including you and Emma. But talking with Don has really helped, especially in that it's made me want the normalcy again. Last week, I wouldn't have been here. But now, I want to be. So yeah, it's getting better."

"Good." Olivia reached out instinctively, running her fingers over the strands of blonde hair brushing Alex's cheek. "I was really starting to worry about you, but I wasn't sure how to get through," the detective admitted. "You seemed like you needed space…"

"I think I convinced myself that I did need that much space," Alex replied, nuzzling Olivia's hand, "and I think that had you pressed, I would have pushed you even further away and done irreparable damage." She shook her head, placing her hand on Olivia's knee. "It's done, though, and I'm bouncing back."

Inhaling deeply, Olivia nodded, her eyes gentle. "You're back," she agreed, hoping she was right in saying that, in so many ways. "You're not as jumpy," the detective noticed, "when I touch you, I mean."

"It still surprises me a bit," Alex replied, leaning further against the couch, "but, as Don said, I know you won't hurt me, so there's no reason to fear the physical contact."

"Never," Olivia said softly, her heart pounding at the simple physical contact she'd missed so much in the few weeks they'd spend without time alone together. "Do you think you're ready to start spending more time with me?"

Alex nodded. "I think so. I mean, I don't know if I can jump right back in; three days hasn't really been enough to completely turn me around. But if you still want to, I would love to."

"Of course I want to." Olivia's tone was gently reproachful. "Didn't we cover this over coffee this morning?"

Alex chuckled, squeezing Olivia's knee. "Forgive me. My short-term memory's not what it used to be."

"That's true," Emma added, bringing in two Tupperware containers and setting one each in front of her sister and Olivia.

"What's true?" Alex teased, and Emma rolled her eyes.

"You know, it's past nine, Alex. Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"I don't go to bed at nine," Alex protested. "Nine-thirty, maybe."

"You mind if I monopolize your sister until bedtime?" Olivia asked Emma, not moving her hand from where it had fallen on Alex's shoulder. "We have a lot to talk about."

Emma shook her head. "Hey, if you want to spend more time with her, that's your poison, not mine." She rose, avoiding Alex's swinging arm, poised to smack her upside the head, and kissed Olivia on the cheek. "I'm going to go sketch in my bedroom, maybe watch a little 'Raymond'. Holler when you're on your way out."

"Okay. Thanks for dinner, Em," Olivia called after her.

"Anytime," Emma replied, shutting the door behind her.

Alex shook her head. "That child is incorrigible."

Olivia grinned. "She's a breath of fresh air and you know it."

"Look at you, encouraging her. Shame on you, Detective Benson, for allowing a nuisance to society to remain on the streets." Alex grinned, readjusting her head on a throw pillow.

"She's not dangerous to anybody but herself." Olivia's grin could've lit Manhattan. Finally, she was back in the place where she'd felt more comfortable than any place in her nearly-forty year history: the Cabot family insanity.

"Yeah, she's all right." Alex glanced to the back of the apartment and Emma's shut door; her childish giggles skittered across the wood floors. Alex turned back to Olivia, eyes lowered in deference to the encroaching fatigue. "So what do we need to talk about?"

Olivia smiled at Alex's exhaustion, running her hand over one of the blonde's soft cheeks. "Nothing specific. I just wanted to get you alone."

Alex chuckled. "You could probably have just told her to beat it, and she would have listened. She only listens to you; have you noticed that?"

"It's a gift. My mother always told me I should work with kids." Olivia scooted closer to Alex, resting her free hand on Alex's hip.

"I could see that. You're very good with them. Especially the annoying thirty-year-old ones." Alex smiled, sitting up partway.

"She only annoys you 'cause she's your sister," Olivia defended Emma. "Other people find her charming and effusive. I mean, those other people are mental patients, but so what?"

Alex's laughter echoed her sister's. "She's a good kid. And she'll always be a kid to me, no matter how old and wrinkly she gets. The beauty of sisterhood, I suppose."

Olivia's grin widened as Alex laughed. "I guess so," she agreed easily. "Hey, Alex?"

"Hm?"

"Would it be okay if I kissed you?" Olivia didn't recognize her own voice.

Alex's shy smile held touches of her appreciation towards Olivia. She nodded, leaning in closer. "I would like that very much."

"Just push me away if you, you know, get scared or anything, okay?" Olivia murmured, lowering her lips slowly to Alex's.

Alex closed the distance between them and kissed Olivia gently. Their mouths fused perfectly together, despite the month of distance between them. They hadn't been together physically since before Mark kidnapped her. The kiss was soft and undemanding, much like Olivia herself, and Alex sat straight up on the couch, cupping Olivia's cheek.

Sliding her arms around Alex's waist, Olivia was careful not to move too fast or press too hard. Her fingers splayed tenderly on Alex's back, holding her gently against the detective.

Alex wrapped her arms around Olivia's neck, running her tongue over Olivia's bottom lip swiftly. Her fingers played with the ends of Olivia's hair, her touch deft and gentle.

Moaning softly against Alex's mouth, Olivia deepened the kiss. "I missed you so much," she said quietly, when they broke for air.

Massaging Olivia's shoulders, Alex offered a slight smile. "I missed you, too," she replied, inching her knee closer to Olivia's so that they rested completely against one another. Part of her wanted to push Olivia down on the couch, driven by an ache to hold and be held, but something still held her back. Instead, she sat knee to knee with the brunette, leaning in and kissing her again.

This time, Olivia let Alex guide their kissing, her hands rubbing the blonde's back in small circles.

They sat, making out like teenagers, on her little sister's couch for a good amount of time; she wasn't quite sure how much. Instead, as Alex pulled away to catch her breath, she felt the flush in her cheeks, and noticed that at some point, her left leg had slung itself over Olivia's right, and her hand laid under Olivia's sweater, resting comfortably on the small of her back. "God," Alex breathed. "I forgot what it was like to kiss you."

"I never forgot," Olivia countered, nestling her lips on the hollow of Alex's throat. "You don't forget a Cabot," she murmured with a grin.

Alex leaned back, eyeing Olivia. She scooted partly away, closing her eyes. "Mark said that," she said, her tone deadened. "He said that the first time you interviewed him, when Emma was missing."

A rush of regret flooded Olivia, and she reached out, resting her hand on Alex's leg. "Oh, God, I'm sorry. I didn't—I thought Emma said that. Honey...Alex..."

Alex got up from the couch, walking around the back. His face slithered into her head, and she shook it violently. Looking down at Olivia, Alex shook her head once more. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm reacting like this." She curled her hands into fists and knocked them together, trying to relieve the PTSD symptoms rushing through her body. She took a few deep breaths, focusing on a picture of herself, Olivia and Emma that hung across the room.

"Alex?" Olivia stood and crossed to Alex, standing a foot behind her. "It's okay." Something deep inside the detective recognized the symptoms of a post-traumatic stress episode from the victims she'd dealt with over the years. "It's just me...just Liv. He's not here." She wouldn't say Mark's name, for fear of sparking a fresh nightmare in Alex's tender psyche. "He's dead. He can't hurt you. Emma and I are here; you're safe."

"I know," Alex answered after a minute, sitting on the arm of the couch. "It just...threw me for a loop. I don't remember much about that day, but what I do remember...it plays like a bad movie over and over again if the suggestion is introduced." She ducked her head, trying to regain her composure. "This is the first time I've reacted like this with people in the same room."

"It's okay," Olivia assured her, crouching down in front of Alex. "You don't have to hide it. I'm sorry, though. I didn't mean to make you remember."

"It's all right. It was an honest mistake." Alex took a few deep breaths and raised her head, setting her shoulders. "Okay. I'm okay."

"You sure?"

Alex nodded. "Yeah." She leaned down and kissed Olivia lightly. "Thanks."

Olivia stood, shrugging. "I didn't do anything," she protested.

"Whatever happened to just saying 'You're welcome'?" Alex chided, rising as well, and lacing her arm around Olivia's waist. "You know I normally don't apologize all that much; you should bask in its glory while it lasts."

"Fine, fine," Olivia allowed herself a smile, holding Alex loosely. "You win; you're welcome." Glancing at the clock in the kitchen, she sighed. "It's getting late. I should probably head home."

"Yeah. Would...would you mind walking me home?" Alex was reaching out as best she could, under the circumstances.

"But you live in the opposite..." Olivia trailed off, recognizing the request for what it was. "Of course," she corrected herself. "Let's just say bye to Em."

"Thanks. Emma Kate!" Alex called towards the back of the apartment, and Emma appeared a minute later, her own glasses on and hair held up by two paint brushes. "You two heading out?"

Alex nodded. "I'm just going to use the facilities, and then we'll get out of your hair."

"At least you won't poke the back of my head like these damn things," Emma replied, pulling out the brushes, and letting her blonde tresses brush against her shoulder. Alex excused herself and went past her into the bedroom. Emma watched her go, and turned to Olivia. "Everything okay?"

"Seems like it," Olivia said with a faint smile in the direction Alex had gone. "I think we're gonna be okay."

"Good." Emma treaded into the living room and hedged slightly before continuing. "Can I say something, Liv?"

Turning her full attention to Emma, Olivia grinned broadly. "When haven't you, child?"

Emma thought hard. "Well, never." Her face became serious before she continued. "My first boyfriend - before He Who Shall Not Be Named - was this guy I met my freshman year of college. Danny was the nicest, sweetest thing, and we had a great time together. Obviously, he wanted those great times to include sex, but after Peter, there was no way Danny could even hold my hand without me jumping a mile. I eventually warmed up to the idea, but it took almost a year. I don't think it'll be that severe with Allie, but it's something to expect and consider. I've been where she is, and I know how she feels. She wants to show you how much she loves you, but that violation will hold her back for a while. I know you know this, but it's part of the sisterly pact that I warn you."

Olivia nodded solemnly. "Thanks," she said sincerely. "I appreciate the information, on both our behalfs." She smiled warmly. "I have no intention of pushing Alex into anything, but that'll give me a tactile reminder in case I start to feel like she's holding back."

"No problem," Emma replied with a smile, hugging Alex as her sister emerged from the bathroom. "Give me a call later in the week, okay?"

Alex nodded. "Yup. Thanks for dinner."

"My pleasure, you know that." Emma walked Alex and Olivia out, hugging the detective. "Good luck," she whispered.

* * *

"Alexandra Cabot?"

Alex turned in the hallway outside Petrovsky's courtroom, facing a tall black man. "Yes?" she asked, trying to place him.

"I'm Joel Walters, ABC-7 news. I wanted to get a comment from you, on the record."

"About?" Alex narrowed her eyes, confused.

"How do you feel about Caroline Cabot-Whitney alleging a lesbian relationship between yourself and Detective Olivia Benson? Additionally, what do you think about the fact she's suing the NYPD, Detective Benson, and your sister, Emma, on behalf of Mark Miller's estate?"

Alex took a step backwards from his tape recorder. "First of all, I have not been informed of any lawsuit, so I can't comment on that. On the second point, Caroline and I haven't seen each other in close to two years, and didn't speak for ten years prior to that. So take anything she alleges with a grain of salt. I'm sorry I can't comment further. Thanks." Alex turned on her heel, striding out, head held high, even as her heart threatened to leap out of her chest. She made her way to the SVU bullpen, searching for Olivia.

"Hey," Olivia said with an easy smile, which faded as soon as she got a good look at Alex's face. "What's wrong? Is it Emma?"

Alex shook her head. "Have you received a summons or a subpoena? Any calls from a reporter?"

"No, why?" Olivia pressed. "What's going on?"

Alex leaned across her desk, lowering her voice. "I just got stopped outside of Petrovsky's courtroom. Apparently, Caroline is suing you and the NYPD on behalf of Mark's estate. Furthermore, she's 'alleging' a romantic relationship between you and me."

Her eyes widened and Olivia had to force herself not to gasp aloud. "How...where'd she come up with this?"

Alex shook her head. "I haven't the faintest idea. Neither Emma nor I have had any contact with her since the sentencing."

Alex turned as Cragen's voice called out to them. "Benson, Cabot. In my office, now."

Alex strode easily to Don's office, and he waited to speak until after Olivia had shut the door carefully behind them. "I just got a call from Olivia's union rep and OPP. Have you heard about Caroline?"

"Bits and pieces. I was accosted outside court this morning. What is it?"

Cragen sighed, running a hand over his bald head. "I don't know, exactly. OPP warned Olivia would be served this afternoon. But from what I understand, Mark gave Caroline power of attorney years ago, before he ever married Emma, and he never changed it. So when Caroline heard of the circumstances surrounding Mark's death, she launched her own inquiry. She's petitioning for wrongful death."

"How would she have known the circumstances?" Alex pressed. "We had him cremated the next day. There was no formal autopsy, no paperwork. We cleaned it up."

"Maybe that triggered her interest. You Cabots always loved mysteries." Cragen shrugged. "I'll try and do as much damage control as I can from here, but you two need to be very, very careful."

Olivia sighed, cursing under her breath. "Cap, listen, if this - us - gets out," she said, gesturing toward Alex with the first verbal admission of their relationship, "I'm not gonna ask any of you to defend me. I got myself into this, an' I'll take the blame for it."

"You most certainly will not," Cragen barked, surprising both himself and Alexandra. "You shot a man who was a threat. We do that every day, without preamble and without punishment. I know as well as you do that he would have killed both of them. Besides, if you go down for this, we all do. I covered it up; I knew damn well that Emma lured him there, and that you protected her. Now I'm protecting you, because I believe what you did was right. Don't argue about defense with me, Benson," he warned. "On the other matter, it's nobody's damn business but your own. And Emma's, because apparently everything's her business." He rubbed the back of his neck - had he picked that up from Alex, or vice versa? "On that front, the police department's like the military. You don't tell, and we can't ask. OPP's gonna cover you on this one; it'd look a hell of a lot worse if they were slapped with a discrimination suit and lost millions to Caroline too."

"I'm not gonna sue them!" Olivia said, her forehead furrowing with frustration. "But I'm sure as hell not letting Elliot and all of you go down for my private life."

"Our private life, thank you very much," Alex replied. "And if you won't sue them, I sure as hell will." She put her hands on her hips and looked between the two cops. "The first thing we have to figure out is where Caroline's getting her information. We sealed those records tighter than juvy files. No details were ever released."

"You're thinking a mole?" Cragen nodded as he pondered the idea. "It could work."

"Who did you talk to about Mark's death, Liv?" Alex brushed her hand against Olivia's in support.

Sliding her hand into Alex's, Olivia couldn't help but admire her spunk. "Huang," she said immediately, "but that's protected by therapist-patient confidentiality. The IAB guy was the only other person."

"Who was the IAB investigator?" Cragen asked immediately.

"Sims," Olivia replied. "He investigated me on the Plummer shooting, too," she added, suspicion clouding her eyes. "I thought he had out it for me then, but he cleared me, so..."

"That one was more cut and dry. My sister didn't call you and tell you she was about to commit premeditated murder." Alex sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Don, can you find out if Sims leaked the transcripts of the hearings somehow?"

Cragen nodded. "I'll do my best."

"We'll know more once you're served," Alex turned fully to Olivia. "'Till then, we're denying?"

"You're the lawyer," Olivia said with a worried expression. "I'm doin' whatever you tell me to for now."

"We have no comment on our personal lives, but no, we are not romantically involved," Alex finally decided, squeezing Olivia's hand discreetly in solidarity. "If Sims did leak the IAB transcripts, Caroline can't do much damage. Stolen, private documents are inadmissible. But she's trying to play the PR game, trying to rattle our cages. We won't let her," Alex said with conviction. "But we do have to be careful. She's not above hiring a photographer or six to try and catch us in the act."

Shaking her head, Olivia's stomach roiled at the idea of lying about who she was - and who she loved. The detective started to protest, but was silenced by matching glares from Cragen and Alex. "All right," she acquiesced unhappily. "But only 'cause I wanna see the look on Caroline's face when you blow her ass outta the water."

Alex chuckled, turning to Cragen. "Don, can you give us a second?"

Cragen paused, but nodded, leaving silently. Alex made sure the blinds to his office were closed before she encompassed Olivia in a hug. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"It's not your fault," Olivia said, holding Alex against her gently. "But listen," she added, leaning back slightly to look her girlfriend in the eye, "when you were in the hospital, I told you I was ready for more of a commitment. That means now, Alex. If it comes down to a choice between my job and you, there's no question in my mind." Her tone left no room for debate. "I'm not letting you flush your career, no matter what happens," the detective finished with a teasing grin. "Someone needs to support Emma in the lifestyle to which she wants to become accustomed, and I can't do it on a cop's salary."

Alex laughed, despite the situation. "It's not coming to that," she vowed. "We keep our jobs, we keep each other. There's no other way." She stepped back, extending her hand. "Deal?"

"If you say so." Olivia shook her hand with a smile.

"I do. Let's get Cragen to work on figuring out if Sims is our mole. I'm gonna go back to my office, see if I can figure out how intricate Caroline's dealings with Mark actually were." Alex opened the door and saw a worried Emma, obviously straight from her doctorate art seminar, covered in paint, with messy hair and a saddle bag. Alex approached her, and saw her sister's eyes were wild. "What's going on, Allie? Some reporter found me at school, started asking questions about Mark and you and Olivia."

"Caroline's up to something," Alex said. "Nothing to worry about."

"I wouldn't be so sure," a slithering voice crept behind them, stopping short. Emma, Alex and Cragen turned to face Caroline Cabot-Whitney. "I need to find Detective Olivia Benson, please."

Emma shook her head. "Over my dead body, Carrie. Step back."

"Very funny.  Is that what you said to Mark before Detective Benson shot him dead?" Caroline pinned her baby sister with a smug gaze. "Produce Detective Benson now, Captain Cragen," the eldest Cabot glared at the one face she recognized, "or I'll add an interference charge to the lawsuit."

Before Cragen could speak, Olivia stepped forward. "I'm Detective Benson." You crazy bitch, she added mentally.

"Detective Benson, as representative of the estate of Mark Miller, I am serving you with notification of a civil lawsuit that has been filed in superior court, indicating you were the cause of the wrongful death of Mr. Miller on August 30th of this year. A member of my staff will be contacting you for your deposition. Consider yourself served." Caroline picked up her attaché and nodded. "Good day."

"Do they say 'consider yourself served' in real life anymore?" Emma called after her sister, who was striding out of the desk area. Emma ran after her, her long legs catching up to and surpassing Caroline easily. Emma stood directly in her path, and the estranged sisters stood nose to nose. "Tell me one more time, Carrie," Emma whispered. "Tell me why you're doing this to my sister."

"Alexandra isn't involved in this," Caroline responded primly, shooting her a bored look.

"I'm not talking about Alex. I'm talking about my other sister. The sister who stood by me, cared for me, held me when I was scared and alone. The one who helped me up when I was down, not the one who kicked me instead. I'm talking about Olivia, who has been a better sister to me than you could ever hope to be. Tell me, Carrie. Why?" Emma's teeth were clenched, and her hands were wrapped around the burlap of her bag.

"It's simple, Emma. It's about justice." Caroline brushed past her, heading out towards the double doors. "Oh, I nearly forgot." She turned back, reaching into her bag again. "Emma Cabot Miller, you are being named as a co-defendant in a civil suit filed in superior court, regarding the wrongful death of Mark Miller on August 30th of this year." She extended her hand, a grin on her face. "Consider yourself served."

"Over my dead body." Alex intercepted the summons, snatching it from Caroline's hand and throwing it to the floor. "Come near her and I'll destroy you."

"Tsk, tsk, ADA Cabot. Threatening a fellow attorney? What will the Ethics Committee think?"

"Screw you, Caroline," Alex seethed, sending her older sister barreling back with a swift crack of her knuckles to Caroline's jaw. As Caroline lay on the floor, cupping her bruised chin, she looked up and saw two very angry Cabot sisters.

"Pour that on your justice and stuff it," Emma said. "Get out."

"Gladly. Where can I file an assault complaint in this precinct?" Caroline stood, watching the detectives watch her.

"Third floor," Cragen replied. "Although, none of us really saw anything."

Caroline chuckled, wincing in pain. "I'm sure." She turned and left, more determined than ever.

The determination was an obvious family trait. Emma turned to Alex, concerned. "How's your hand?"

"Fine," Alex replied, her eyes never wavering from the traitor's back. "Let's get to work."

THE END