When Anya returned to the table, she was a little surprised that neither of the other detectives asked if everything was all right, but instead dove right into another conversation, inquiring her about her job as a dancer.
Meanwhile in the bathroom, Olivia was cupping cold water in her hands before splashing it on her face. She couldn't tell if she was drunk or if it was more complicated than that. Was she angry, depressed, lonely, or just intoxicated with the notion of being with Anya? The stunt that Anya had pulled in regaining control over her by pressing her against the wall and testing her reflexes and reactions infuriated Olivia, but it also aroused her. In that moment, she had wanted nothing more than to shove Anya back and touch every inch of her skin and smother her with her mouth. John was right about Anya that only pissed Olivia off more.
Olivia cupped another pool of cold water in her hands and sighed into it as it sloshed over her face. She clung to the edge of the sink and looked at herself in the mirror, watching the drops of water drip from her cheeks, nose, eyelashes, and chin. "What are you doing, Olivia?" She asked herself, although she couldn't answer her own question. She turned to the paper towels and took more than she needed and pat her face dry. She ran her fingers through her hair to eradicate any indications of moisture from the tips of her hair. Jesus, I need to get it together. She took in a deep breath and allowed the air to exhale from her lungs quickly as she exited the bathroom to return to the table with her co-workers and…my date? My friend? Who is she to me? Anya.
As Olivia approached the table, Anya's eyes shot up and bore into Olivia's, but they were complimented with a cruel smirk at the shattered woman. Olivia sat back down next to Anya and immediately noticed that the woman's drink was almost empty, which meant she would have to make a decision much quicker than she had originally anticipated. She tried to act as if everything was fine, so she did what she always did: deflected the attention to someone else. In that moment, the only person that didn't seem to know what was going on was Elliot. She asked him about his conversation with Kathy. He told them that she was asking when he'd be home. Everyone understood that it meant that Elliot would be heading home to Queens soon once he had sobered up.
Anya's sipped the last of her vodka and cranberry before pushing the empty glass forward. She sat back and sighed, looked over to Olivia, then back to the detectives across the table. When Olivia didn't say anything, Anya shifted in her seat in an effort to get up. "Well, it was a pleasure to meet you both, but I think I'm going to call it a night." Wait! Olivia thought to herself. I don't really want her to leave.
"Wow, someone is actually going home before you, Stabler." Munch remarked.
Olivia's thoughts bounced back and forth in her mind faster than Forrest Gump could hit a ping pong ball until she noticed that Anya had stepped over the back of the bench to leave. Did she not want her to leave because she was attracted to her or was she just lonely? The last time she was drunk and lonely, she had gone home with a co-worker and that ended up being a huge mistake. She didn't want to make that mistake again. But she also didn't think that this was the case with Anya. She genuinely liked and respected her. And she was gorgeous. Damn, is she gorgeous. All she could think about was the moment they shared in the bathroom, how completely taken she was by the woman and then she remembered their kiss in her car from last Saturday and how thrilling it had been.
Olivia instinctively reached for Anya's hand and grabbed it. "Wait." Olivia pleaded, but quickly regained her composure. Anya turned and looked down at her, raising an eyebrow. "Um, it's still early. You don't really need to leave right now, do you?"
Anya tugged and twirled the ends of one of her sandy locks, reading Olivia's thoughts before looking to the detectives. "No, I guess not."
"Then why don't you stay and have a shot with us?" Anya nodded and Olivia released her hand so that Anya could return to her seat on the bench.
Despite that it was Olivia's idea and she wanted whiskey, she was battered with the idea of vodka at Anya and Munch's insistence and eventually gave into them both. The waitress brought the four shot glasses to the table, not knowing that Elliot wouldn't be joining them. Elliot declined his drink, and passed it to a former co-worker from homicide sitting behind him. Olivia downed hers right away, as Munch was attempting to say something prolific.
John turned his attention to Anya after noticing that Olivia had already taken her shot. "She has no respect for me." Anya laughed a little, but Munch continued in Russian, "Although I understand why you'd pursue her." Anya blushed a little and smirked at the veteran detective.
She and the homicide detective waited for Munch to finish his toasting commentary in English before they drank their shots together. As Munch put the glass to his lips, he looked again to Anya and smiled, "Good luck, my dear."