Title: It Takes Two
Author: Ink Cat
Rated: T
Author's Notes: Wow, look! Another chapter! I'll have you all know that this is the first time that I've actually posted another chapter to an exsisting story. I'll really have to do something about my urge to start stories and not finish or update. Anyway, chapter two is up. Thanks to all of my wonderful reviewers. Special shoutouts go to Caro for being frank about the absolute cliche in the ending and to LS Munch and SVU My Life for advice and support. To the rest of you, I tried to make this ending much less stale than the other one, though I'm pretty sure Alex's line about waltzing will go down a little stickily. Sorry about that.
Disclaimer: I don't own Law and Order SVU. Damn.
Alex's eyes met his, and she began the long walk across the ballroom towards their table. John pretended to be very interested in his untouched champagne flute. One bubble, two bubble, three bubble… He knew that most people were gained a certain measure of discomfort when he made eye contact, but he was the one inwardly cringing now. He really, really hoped that she hadn't caught him inspecting her. That would just be too awkward, even for him.
She was met by waves, compliments, and, from the more reserved table occupants (read: John and Doctor Huang) polite nods and 'good evenings'. Introductions were made to those who weren't acquainted with the Assistant District Attorney. Huang's date (Mae Lin, we had learned) inspected Alex's dress and her silent approval was obvious. It seemed that the somewhat bafflingly seductive woman was an up-and-coming designer herself.
John could tell that Kathy was a little jealous of the elegantly dressed Cabot. He also caught Michael ogling her. He was pretty sure that Alex and Olivia did too, judging bythe carefully schooled blankness of their faces when they spoke to him.
She took a seat next to Mae Lin and the two easily fell into conversation about Mae's fledgling clothing line, Harajuku Kiss; far too bright and funky for the reserved Cabot, but good conversation all the same. Olivia and Michael headed towards the exit (Munch had a feeling that Mikey-boy was about to be kicked to the curb, literally and figuratively). Elliot and Kathy drifted towards the gardens, presumably to spend what little time they did have together alone, for which he couldn't fault them. Mae Ling went to speak with one of the lab technicians about the skirt that she was wearing. "It's far too Laura Ashley for her," she had said before charging off to lend advice to the fashionably challenged. John thought that she was funny, her energy reminiscent of a four year old who had had a few too many jellybeans on Easter.
They passed the time well enough, Huang, Cragen, Cabot, and Munch arguing amicably on the subject of juvenile rehabilitation, until Alex's boss approached them. "Oh, this doesn't bode well for me," she mumbled before turning to face her boss with a false smile.
She headed for them like a hurricane, like a battleship (albeit one decked out in watermelon pink). "Hello, Alex." She nodded, "Detectives. Doctor."
"Liz." Alex allowed, wary.
The men attempted to carry on a conversation, trying not to eavesdrop too much, or to at least not be noticed doing so. "Alex, you do know what the point of these yearly gatherings are, don't you?"
"To force already overworked citizens to put up with each other for yet another evening over hors d'oeuvres and champagne in order to see who cracks first?" she asked with a sickly-sweet smile. Major points for her on that one, thought Munch as he tried to talk with his male colleagues about a recent case while still listening in on the two women's conversation. It was proving rather difficult, and he could tell that the others finding it just as hard from the frequent 'what?'s and 'huh?'s.
"No, though I don't doubt that that's on of the underlying reasons." She fixed Alex with a serious look. "It's a time to show all of the big cheeses that you have a life outside of the job."
"But Liz, I don't-"
Liz cut her off. "I know, and if it were my choice I'd be happy to let you sit here and talk shop, but I'm telling you, colleague to colleague, that it's in your best interest to socialize some."
Alex sighed. "Liz…"
"I know, Alex, you'd rather be at the office doing something 'productive', but this is life, counselor. Get used to it."
Alex watched her walk quickly away. Cragen, Munch and Huang abandoned their conversation. "Ouch," said Cragen, glancing at Liz's retreating back.
"It makes sense, though," Huang said. "People who don't mix outside of their usual group could be perceived to be too work-oriented or possibly even antisocial. This is probably the management's way of weeding out the officers who are most likely to become too focused on their jobs."
Munch rolled his eyes. "Thank you for that assessment, Doctor"
He smiled, taking John's gentle prod gracefully. "Any time, detective."
The orchestra had begun to tune their instruments and people began moving off of the open space obviously meant as a dance floor. The detectives watched from the sidelines as Olivia reentered the room (alone, as Munch had suspected she would) and headed for the bar in the far corner, striking up a conversation with another detective. One thing that I have to give Liv, she sure doesn't waste time, John thought, catching the flirtatious smiles that the two threw each others' way. Elliot and Kathy danced the first song. The assembled SVU members tried not to laugh at the detective's shoddy footwork. He and Kathy sat down near the sidelines, she rubbing her feet and he looking sheepish. Alex caught Liz gesturing at her to dance, but ignored her boss. After a few songs, however, the orchestra began to play Offenbach's Barcarole. Alex glanced at her tablemates.
"I don't suppose any of you gentlemen know how to waltz?"
"Mae Lin wouldn't like it," said Huang with a small smile. He glanced at his date a few tables away. She was informing a young officer that his red tie really wasn't playing well against his ruddy complexion.
Alex's gaze shifted to Cragen, sitting beside Huang. "Don't look at me," he said when he realized that she was, indeed, looking at him. "I'm almost worse than Elliot."
Maybe if I don't say anything she'll assume that I don't… Munch thought. He didn't want to outright lie to Alex. Rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably, he (once again) concentrated on his untouched champagne flute. Such a pretty yellow color…
"John?" Alex asked.
He sighed, but Alex smiled. "Do you want to dance?" she asked, taking his sigh for the 'yes' that it was to her first question.
Did he want to? Hell yes he wanted to, if it would let him get close enough to her to touch her pale cheek, to hear the rustle of her silk gown when she moved. But, of course, playing eager wasn't John's game. "And make a fool of myself in front of the NYPD, FBI, CIA, and God knows who else? No thanks."
"Oh, come on, John. We can go out on the terrace. No one'll see you, though you do run the risk of being photographed by a rogue Government satellite," she finished with a little smile.
He sighed again, but let himself be pulled to his feet. "Lead the way, counselor," he said resignedly, and Alex pulled him off, prompting bemused expressions from the rest of the SVU squad.