Title: All That's Left You
Pairing: Olivia/Alex
Summary: When the body of an unidentified woman is discovered, Alex finds herself thrown back into a familiar world. But can anyone really go home again?
Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me etc. etc. They are the creation of Dick Wolf and Co. and I use them without permission for entertainment purposes only. Please don't sue.
Spoilers: If you're aware of events up until the advent of "Conviction", you'll be fine.
Status: On-going
A/N: Yeah, so apologies that this has taken several months to continue. This is only a short update; but it seemed like a natural place to break for now. Day 2 of the case is hopefully coming soon. Once again, I haven't abandoned this story and I do actually have several of the later chapters completed with just the small problem of a gaping hole between this and them. If you're still reading, I hope you enjoy.
All That's Left You
"Long ago, it must be; I have a photograph,
Preserve your memories; they're all that's left you."
Chapter 10
Monday 3rd July 2006, 1-6 Precinct, Special Victims Unit, 8.14pm.
Olivia looked up as she heard the crib doors once again swing open. Since Elliot's cell had rung 20 minutes earlier and he'd slipped discreetly out of the squad room, she'd been staring intently at the open box containing the haphazard collection of documents and evidence bags that currently made up the Julie Ericson case file. That she was yet to read or examine a single item in the time Detective Stabler had been absent was something of which only she was vaguely aware.
As her partner sluggishly made his way across the room, the 3am start to the day clearly taking its toll, the expression she read on his face was not just tiredness but also apprehension. Pushing her hair roughly back from her eyes she couldn't help sigh as she spoke.
"Everything okay?"
Elliot, subconsciously mirrored the other detective's action, his hand sliding through his buzz cut, causing Liv's own uneasiness to grow.
"Um, yeah. I just spoke with Cragen. Munch and Fin tracked down Dr Wilkins. Turns out he does exist – and in mid-town no less."
Liv allowed her brow to furrow in confusion. "That's good, right?"
Elliot attempted a smile which ended up looking, to Olivia, more like a grimace.
"It should be. But the guy wouldn't talk without a warrant so Cragen made some calls and…." He trailed off.
"Out with it, El." The day had been too long for Liv to summon any true exasperation, but it was close enough.
Elliot looked sheepish. The words came out in a rapid mumble but Olivia had little trouble understanding their meaning.
"It turns out Cabot really hasn't lost her touch whilst she's been gone. She worked her charm on Donnelly, who, from how Cragen tells it wasn't particularly impressed, but she signed off on it anyway and…" he paused for breath. "Alex is on her way over with the warrant". He looked quickly at his watch, "now."
If the circumstances had been different, or he had a death wish, the frozen expression on Liv's face would have made Elliot laugh out loud.
Instead he settled for another uncomfortable attempt at a smile waiting for a response, any response, from his partner.
After several moments, this came in the form of metal scraping against linoleum as Liv hurriedly scrambled to her feet.
Stepping forward to save the now precariously balancing chair from toppling over, Elliot attempted to catch his partner's eye as she frantically piled the evidence on the table back into the open box.
"Liv?"
Nothing.
"Olivia!"
As she lifted he head, as if caught off guard, Elliot struggled to hide his reaction to the panicked, almost wild, look on her face.
This time his voice was markedly softer. "Liv."
She paused her movements. Elliot watched as her features relaxed, but the smile on her lips did not meet her eyes and her tone was a fraction too light.
"You know what, El. I think I'm actually going to take your advice for once and head out for the night."
Before Stabler could so much as throw a sceptical glance in her direction, the doors to the crib were again forcefully swinging closed. Watching his partner's hurriedly retreating form, Elliot dropped unceremoniously into the vacant, but still upright, chair. Allowing himself a brief moment of reprieve he sighed, the only remaining audience to his frustration the empty room.
"Well, that went better than last time, I suppose."
xxx
"Hard at work as always, I see, Detective."
His head jerking up, Elliot's eyes blearily attempted to focus on the blonde who had suddenly appeared in front of him. Noting his position, slumped clumsily on a tattered sofa in the corner of the crib, his first thought was to hope that he hadn't been snoring. However, upon his vision clearing, his second thought became unguarded concern for the woman before him. Discounting her acerbic tone, the lines of tension were written clearly across her face; her arms wrapped around herself despite the clinging humidity.
Dragging his body into a seated position, Elliot forced what, once again that day, he hoped was a gentle smile.
"I'm here to protect and serve, Counsellor."
Stifling a yawn, he nodded at the empty chair adjacent to him.
Alex hesitated for a moment, her gaze flicking across the room and back, as if unable to stand the calm scrutiny of the blue eyes trained unflinchingly upon her.
Seeing his former colleague's obvious unease, Elliot raised his eyebrows, waiting patiently but refusing to look away. His persistence was rewarded when the lawyer carefully lowered herself into the proffered seat, finally meeting his eyes with a wry smile; her briefcase clutched on her lap.
"Why is it, Detective, that I feel we should be holding this conversation in one of your interrogation rooms?"
Elliot smiled. "Guilty conscience?"
His expression faded as, at his comment, Alex seemed to sink back into herself. Mentally berating himself, he shuffled forward on the couch, twisting his body so his knees were only inches from his companion's. Gaining no acknowledgement he gingerly reached out, his fingers brushing the lawyer's hand which now gripped the bag so tightly the knuckles were nearly white.
"Alex?"
Taking a slightly shaky breath, the blonde smiled self-consciously, forcing herself to meet her old acquaintance's eyes.
Whilst the smile was a little too tremulous, it was at least genuine, for which Elliot was irrationally grateful.
He paused for a second, his head tilting to the side, clearly considering his next words.
"So, being back from the dead is keeping you too busy these days to return a phone call from a concerned friend?" His tone was light, but his eyes probing.
He waited, again watching as the blonde seemed to visibly steel herself. When no response was forthcoming, he reached over again, this time gently squeezing the hand securing the case. When blue eyes met his, he released his hold, settling back in the couch, hoping that the bureau chief understood the intention of the unprecedented contact. He was quickly relieved to witness the gentle slumping of her shoulders and the slight relaxing of her grip.
Suddenly too exhausted to make any attempt at a cutting reply, and inexplicably thankful for the quiet understanding emanating from the often combative man opposite, Alex allowed herself an unsteady breath.
"I'm okay, Elliot."
This comment elicited a further pause from the detective. After a moment he smirked slightly. However, his voice remained surprisingly gentle.
"I know it's been a few years, Counsellor. But I don't think 'okay' is hiding in the precinct bathroom, looking like you're trying not to pass out, after delivering a warrant to a group of people who are all just happy to have you back where you belong."
Alex felt an unbidden wave of anger swell in her stomach, not, she realised, at Elliot's words, but at the recognition of the tender tone she knew to be reserved for victims and the irreparably damaged. However as her vitriol rose, it somehow escaped her throat as little more than a choked sob.
After a moment of silence, Elliot sighed. Running both hands roughly through his short hair, he pushed himself abruptly to a standing position. Understanding, despite his mounting frustration, that towering over the seated blonde would do no-one any good, he moved to stand behind the couch, leaning heavily on it. His tense posture belied the weary tenor in which his words came out.
"Dammit, Alex. I get that this can't be easy for you and I even kind of get why you have this whole Ice Queen 2.0 thing going on. This whole situation is screwed up, and if I was in your place, I don't know how I'd be handling it right now. But you have to understand that you have people who care about you, who missed you. Who spent almost a year chasing down every lead the Feds threw their way to make sure it was safe for you to finally come home." He stopped, tiredly. "At least have the fucking courtesy to say more than just 'hello' to her."
Elliot waited, letting his eyes drift shut and mentally preparing himself for the cool wrath which experience told him to expect, and on this occasion probably deserve, from the attorney. It took his weary mind several moments to register the silence.
A stab of guilt shooting through him, he opened his eyes to see the blonde unmoving in front of him her eyes closed, her arms gripping the briefcase forcefully to her.
"Shit. Alex. I'm….."
"Please, Elliot, don't."
It was the defeat in the woman's tone, and not the interruption itself, Elliot realised that stopped him in his tracks. For a moment he thought the blonde was going to continue, but instead she seemed to sink even further into herself, her eyes again closing as she took an audible breath.
"Alex."
When she finally looked up at him, Elliot was stunned to see the turbulent emotion in the habitually composed blue eyes. The foreign, almost pleading edge to her voice broke something within him.
"I just… I don't know how to do this."
Afraid to respond, conscious that any further sound or movement may shatter the final remnants of composure of this unnervingly fragile version of the formidable Alexandra Cabot, Elliot stayed silent watching as the blonde's mask slipped visibly back in place.
With an almost appreciative nod, the blonde rose slowly from her seat, slipping a sheet of paper towards him as she stood.
"Here's your warrant, Detective."
Pretending, for both their sakes, not to notice the disconcertingly shaky manner in which the Bureau Chief made her exit, Stabler sank back down into the old couch feeling, much to his dismay, like a clueless and insensitive asshole.
xxx
Monday 3rd July 2006, 10.04pm, Alexandra Cabot's apartment
Alex leant heavily against the cool cream wall of her silent apartment hallway, closing the newly installed front door behind her firmly and absently securing the deadlock and bolts. Slipping off her pumps, she headed into living area, flicking on the lights as she went. Ignoring the steady flash of her answering machine, she removed an open bottle of rich single malt from the antique cabinet next to her, pouring a couple of fingers into a delicate crystal glass before taking a generous sip. As she did so, a photograph fluttered out from the open cupboard, slightly faded and worn around the edges. Welcoming the customary jolt of pain the image of the two smiling women in the picture sent through her chest, she carefully returned the object to its place, closing the door securely.
The glass still in her hand she moved over to the expansive window which the realtor had insisted gave her an enviable view of Manhattan's Upper East Side. Taking another sip of the warming liquid, Alex knew there was a singular view that she was looking for. Only when she spied the familiar sight of a dark department issue Sedan, a familiar silhouette within it, did she settle wearily on the sofa. Pulling a blanket over her the blonde fell into an uneasy sleep.
TBC…