Disclaimer: All familiar SVU characters belong to Dick Wolf. I'm just having a little fun with them.

Oh, direction is a beautiful, beautiful thing. Thanks for all of your reviews, and I'm glad so many of you are still reading!

Chapter 37

Alex debated whether or not to say anything to Olivia. She was keenly aware that she had just witnessed an extremely private moment, and her place in the situation was questionable. She knew Olivia was hurting, and she wanted desperately to help her, but unless Olivia was truly ready to accept help, she would never benefit from it. She turned from the doorway and slipped back into the house, as quietly as she had arrived without saying a word. When she had retreated into the study, she pulled out her cell phone and flipped through her contact list.

"Hello?" came the friendly voice she had been seeking.

"George, hi. It's Alex," she began.

"Alex! I heard about everything that happened with you and Olivia. Are you two ok?" he asked. Alex had a great deal of respect for George Huang. He had an uncanny ability to get into the mind of just about anyone. He understood motivation, and he could scrutinize actions to pull together an accurate picture of whoever they were looking for. And yet, there was the softer side to him; the one that led cops to trust him with their own demons.

"Physically, yes, we're both fine," Alex answered carefully.

"Something tells me this isn't a social call," George answered. Alex sighed.

"I'm worried about Olivia," she confessed.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"How much do you know?" Alex asked, unsure who knew what details at this point.

"I know that there was a break-in at your apartment, and Olivia was kidnapped. She was rescued as a result of Elliot's most recent undercover mission, but other than that, nothing," he said.

"It's worse than that, George. She was…I don't even know how to describe it," Alex told him.

"Talk to me like a prosecutor, then," George suggested. Alex immediately flipped into lawyer mode, trying to forget that the victim she was describing was Olivia.

"They held her for several weeks. During that time, she was raped and tortured repeatedly, and when she finally escaped, they nearly killed her," Alex spilled out. George took a deep breath.

"She needs help," he said softly. "And so do you."

"Never mind about me, it's her I'm worried about. I'll be fine. But there's more," Alex said. "They targeted us because we're lesbians. The whole point of everything she went through was for them to convince her that she can 'choose' to be straight."

"Let me guess, some sort of absurd Biblical reason?" George speculated. Alex rolled her eyes.

"Of course. Anyway, I was wondering if you'd talk to her. We're out of town for the moment, but we should be heading back to New York in a few days," Alex asked.

"I can try, Alex, but if she's not ready to accept help, then there isn't much I can do for her. I'd also like to talk to you. Whether you know it or not, this tragedy has impacted you," he insisted. Alex bit her bottom lip. He was right. She had been trying so hard to hold herself together, she hadn't realized just how much she needed to talk to someone, too.

"Done. I'll call you when we get back," she said, hanging up the phone at his acknowledgement. She headed back to the porch, where Olivia had composed herself and was laying out her painting to dry.

"Hey," Alex said, plastering on a smile. "I didn't know you painted." Olivia gave a slight chuckle.

"Neither did I. You know, this is really bad," she said, studying the canvas in front of her. "But I kind of like it."

"I think it's wonderful," Alex said. "What's it called?"

"Called?" Olivia asked.

"Sure, every painting needs a title," Alex answered. Olivia studied her work. She thought of all of the words she associated with the colors. Cold. Detached. Abandoned. Then she turned her mind towards the emotions she had felt creating the piece. Sadness. Anger. Helplessness. Fear. And then she had it.

"Drowning in Ice," Olivia said decidedly.

"Wow. That's…deep," Alex commented. Olivia shrugged.

"It's just something I'm playing around with. The painting, I mean," she answered.

"Where did all of this stuff come from?" Alex asked.

"Oh, um, Angela gave it to me. She thought I could use it," Olivia answered. It would have been so easy to lie and say that she had stopped at a craft store and picked up the supplies, but now, more than ever, Olivia wanted to know what Alex's deal with Angela was. It was a mystery, and detectives don't like mysteries they can't solve.

"I wish that woman would just get out of my life," Alex muttered.

"What was that?" Olivia asked.

"Nothing, Olivia. Don't worry about it; it doesn't concern you," Alex warned her.

"If it concerns you, then it concerns me. Please, tell me what happened. Were you two involved in some sort of crime or something?" she asked. She was flipping into her interrogation mode. She was going to get Alex to confess, one way or another.

"No! Would you just drop it? Please?" Alex begged.

"I can't do that. Somehow, she's managed to find a way into our lives, and my gut tells me I can trust her. But then, I know that you don't, and I can't figure out why. Please, Alex, tell me what happened," Olivia said.

"Don't you see? I can't!" Alex cried.

"Yes, you can. You said she ripped your family apart. How did she do that, Alex?" Olivia asked, in that damn soft tone of hers.

"She killed my mom!" Alex cried, tears threatening to escape her eyes.

"Alex, that doesn't make sense. Your mom died in a car accident a few years ago," Olivia said, keeping her voice steady. Alex took a deep breath and lowered herself onto the sofa. Olivia took a seat beside her and placed a hand on the blonde's knee.

"My parents were on their way up here for a long weekend. It was late, and they were minutes away from the house. Out of nowhere a car collided with theirs. My dad walked away with a few cracked ribs and other minor injuries, but Mom…" Alex choked up. "We were finally talking again, you know?" Olivia nodded, and allowed Alex to continue her story. "I gave her hell when I was a teenager, but after I left home to go to college, we started to get along really, really well. And after my dad and I had our falling out, it was Mom who kept the family together. She was the glue that held us all together. Angela was the other driver in that accident. She even had the gall to flat out admit that it was her fault." Olivia pulled Alex into an embrace and stroked her hair.

"I'm so sorry," Olivia whispered.

"I had been trying to write to my father for years. After Mom died, the letter started coming back. I always thought that he was at least reading them, even if he wasn't responding, but after that, I knew he wanted nothing to do with me. It was like I lost both of them that night," Alex said.

"Sweetheart, that was a long time ago, and it probably was an accident," Olivia replied.

"I've tried to forgive her, but every time I look at her, I see Mom, and I think about everything she's missed out on. Angela was the one who drove over the line that night. Why isn't she the one in a pine box instead?" Alex asked.

"I don't know, hon. Sometimes, these things just happen," Olivia said. "They're not fair, and we can't explain them, but they happen." Alex sat up and wiped the tears from her eyes. "But Alex, if she hadn't come by here the other night, we'd probably both be dead." Olivia's words hit Alex like a ton of bricks. Olivia was right. Angela had redeemed herself for the accident, and Alex should forgive her. In her head, Alex understood that, but in her heart, she couldn't bring herself to take that step quite yet. The sun was dipping low on the horizon, and Olivia remembered that they were supposed to have a special dinner.

"Come on," she said to Alex. "Why don't you go splash some water on your face, and we'll get those lobsters cooking?" Alex smiled and headed for the bathroom. While she was gone, Olivia pulled out the lobsters, potatoes, corn, and other ingredients necessary. Her phone vibrated in her pocket.

"Benson," she answered, pinning the phone between her shoulder and cheek.

"Liv, what the hell happened up there?" came the irate voice of Elliot Stabler. Olivia moved her hand to the phone to hold her head upright.

"Elliot, we're fine," she said.

"That's not what I heard. I got a call from the Barnstable Country Sheriff's office about a shooting, and all you can say is you're fine?" he practically screamed.

"Elliot, calm down. There was an altercation, but it's over. Luke's dead," she told him.

"So I heard. Were you also planning to tell me that Alex was shot?" he asked.

"She's fine, El, really. The bullet missed everything major. She's a little sore, but she'll make a full recovery," Olivia answered. "Listen, I was just about to get dinner going, so…"

"Wait, Liv. I'm coming up there," he said.

"Elliot, stop. You don't have to do that. I can take care of myself," Olivia replied.

"I'm not coming up to check on you," he said. "I want to have a look at the crime scene evidence up there, and I want to talk to the experts and possibly have some things sent back down here."

"Elliot, like I said, we're fine, so if you're coming up here on official business, fine, but otherwise, stop worrying," Olivia said, just as Alex appeared in the kitchen, ready to start cooking.

"Who is it?" Alex mouthed.

"Elliot," Olivia mouthed back. Alex rolled her eyes. She could appreciate how Elliot felt like Olivia's protective older brother, but sometimes, he took it too far.

"It is official, Liv. And I want you with me when I talk to them. I need you; I need my partner," he said, finally calming down.

"Ok, fine. Tomorrow," she said.

So, what do you think? Remember to leave a review, either here or on Twitter (BensonFan711)

Yes, still more story. Think you know Angela and Alex's secret? Think you know who Isaiah is? I'll leave you with something Angela keeps telling me:

"All is not as it appears to be."

Cryptic one, isn't she? I'm waiting patiently for her and the others to tell me the rest of the story, so I'll pass it on as I learn more.