Chapter 10

"Nice apartment Liv," said Casey. Since she rarely ever got to see anything but Olivia's cop side, she was surprised at the Martha Stewart-esque décor of the apartment. There was a light colored over-stuffed couch that had matching throw pillows. The walls had paintings and artist photography. The coffee table was simple but elegant lightwood, with a candle and etched crystal holder in the center. The dining room table had woven placements with matching napkins and napkin rings. Another thing that surprised the ADA was that the place was very neat considering Olivia's hectic life and long hours; yet something was not quite right. It was like standing in one of the rooms on the cover of 'Good Housekeeping', neat and well decorated, but…impersonal. That was it. No personal photographs, nothing that said Olivia.

"Thanks. It's a place to sleep in between long cases." Olivia reached over and straightened out a placemat that was slightly askew. "You can change in my room; I'll get ready in the bathroom. I want to take a quick shower." Olivia grabbed a matching pair of bra and panties and headed off to the shower.

Casey found that Olivia's bedroom was much the same as the rest of the apartment. The comforter coordinated with the sheets, shams and bed skirt. The laundry hamper and trash can match the color of the room, but again there was nothing personal except an old pink panther stuffed animal encased in a glass box. "Not what you'd expect to find in the bedroom of the tough, ass kicking Detective Benson," she thought.

Deciding to touch up her make-up first, Casey went over to an immaculately clean and organized vanity. The make-up brushes were in a plastic organizer that kept them upright. There was no residue of eye shadow or blush powder on the table even though Olivia had been wearing make-up that day. Again, it looked like a store display.

A deep sense of unease washed over her and she walked over to the dresser. After listening to make sure the shower was still running, she slid the top-drawer open. All the panties were neatly stacked. The bras were next to them stacked in the same color order. Dress socks were separate from athletic socks. T-shirts were organized, plain on one side one's with words next, and then prints. She next went to the closet. There were jeans then slacks by color, then shirts, jackets, dresses by color and length, tennis shoes, flats, heels then boots. Casey had always thought of herself as organized but this was something else.

Casey thought back to the night when she had sat in the bar during the Eldridge case and listened to Olivia tell her about her drunken mother trying to attack her with a broken liquor bottle… when Olivia had told her that she knew what it was like to want to kill your mother. Casey knew then, that the haunted look in Olivia's eyes was not just from the victims' that she saw daily but that there were many more painful stories in the Detective's life. Although it was just speculation, it was only natural to conclude that the effects of Olivia's upbringing had a hand in this obsessive structure of her home.

Casey heard the shower turn off and quickly closed everything back up and went back to getting ready. Shortly afterwards she heard the hairdryer turn on.

When Olivia came back into her bedroom she found Casey sitting on the edge of her bed using a small compact mirror to do her make-up. "Case, why aren't you using the vanity?"

Casey looked up at the other woman her mind racing with images of the horrors of abuse that she had heard about since prosecuting for the SVU. She wondered how many of them Olivia had suffered.

The look on Casey's face reminded Olivia of the time she had stormed into Casey's office ready to bite her head off because she had tried to push a little girl into identifying her rapist. The pained look directed at her made her feel very uncomfortable. "What's wrong?"

"Huh? Oh, I'm sorry; I was just lost in my own little world for a minute. What did you say?" She plastered on a smile hoping to forestall any further questioning.

Olivia was dubious about Casey's explanation, but was fairly sure she didn't want to pursue things any further. "You're wearing a dress? It's cold and it's winter." Casey had on an emerald green dress that went down about mid-thigh with thin straps and a vee neck.

"Well yeah, didn't I say we were going to do a little dancing too? No offense, but I don't want to dance with you all night. So what are you wearing?"

"I was going to wear a pair of jeans…."

"Oh no, I told you, we are getting you away from 'Olivia the cop' attire. Now if I may take a look in your closet I'm sure that we can find something appropriate."

"I don't know Casey."

"Please, I haven't done this since high school."

"Done what since high school?"

"Helped my friends to pick out clothes when we were going out. Didn't you do it too?"

Rather than trying to explain that she really didn't have any friends, period, she gave in, "All right, have at it." She sat down and began to apply her make-up.

Casey immediately opened the side of the closet where the dresses hung. Realizing her mistake she glanced back at Olivia to see if she had noticed. Satisfied that she was safe she began sifting through the clothes. She pulled out a short purple dress with a deep-scooped back and criss-crossed straps. "How about this one?"

"That's not going to work."

"Why not?" she asked, a little hurt. "I've seen you in shorter stuff than this."

"Funny. That was undercover. I still have a pretty significant bruise on my back. I don't think it would go well."

"A bruise on your back? I thought you had a concussion."

"I did. I got knocked off a step stool onto a cement floor. I hit my head, got seven stitches, a concussion and a large bruise on my back."

"Stitches? Where?" She was going to kill Elliot; all he had said was that Olivia was suffering from a concussion.

"In my head, where do you think?"

"Can I see the bruise?" she asked, figuring that Olivia was just trying to be difficult.

"Yeah, I guess." Olivia slid her robe off her shoulders and let it fall to her waist.

"Oh my God. How can you wear a bra? I could barely wear clothes." The edges of the bruise were green with some purple, but the majority was still dark purple to black, "why are you even back at work?"

"Who are you, Cragen? You had the crap kicked out of you and you weren't gone for very long. Go pick out something else."

"My job isn't as physical as yours," she retorted as she thumbed through the closet. "Hey Liv, here's one that still has the tags on it." Casey took it off the hanger and laid it across the bed.

"Uh, I still have that? I thought I took that back to the store."

"Well you obviously didn't. So I guess that's what you are wearing. Hurry up, time's a wasting."

Olivia opened her mouth to protest but couldn't think of a legitimate reason not to wear the outfit. A few minutes later she was dressed in a long straight skirt that sat low on her hips with a high slit up one side and a matching top with ¾ length sleeves that sat wide on her shoulders and only had two gold buckles at breast level to close it.

"Wow, you look great in that." Casey said proudly. "Now I've already called a cab, so get your shoes on so we can go get something to drink."

When Olivia sat down to put her shoes on she saw just how high the slit of this skirt was. She decided to change when Casey called from the living room, "taxi's here, come on Liv."

"Well at least I don't have to see anybody else I know," she sighed grabbing a long leather coat from the closet.

When the cab driver saw the women exit the building he jumped out of the car to open the door for them. "And where can I take you lovely ladies tonight?"

Casey waited until Olivia was sat down inside the cab before quietly giving the driver instructions to take them to O'Malley's. She didn't know why she had agreed to this deception except that Cragen had caught her off guard. One thing she did know was that there was going to be hell to pay and she began to ramble nervously.

Casey had been babbling on for about fifteen minutes when Olivia finally looked around, "Casey where are we going?"

"Uh, I told you we're going out dancing."

"Yes, I know that, but where are we going?"

"Well, um, we just have to make one stop first, and then I thought maybe we'd go to…"

"Where are we stopping and why."

"It's really your fault you know!"

"What is my fault?"

"Cragen called me."

"Casey Novak you tell me exactly what is going on here." Olivia was almost yelling.

"Cragen called and said he was sorry that I wasn't feeling well. You know if you use me to get out of things, you really should let me know so we're on the same page. I said we were just going out to have a little fun. He told me about O'Malley's and said it was very important that you show up for a few minutes."

"Oh my God," Olivia moaned, "You have no idea what you've done. Frank McCabe has got to be the biggest chauvinist that I have ever met. He's the reason that I got knocked off the stepladder. Now I am going to show up dressed like this."

"Liv, I didn't know. Cragen just said that it was important."

"I know and I'm sorry. I should have let you know."

"Here you are ladies," said the cab driver oblivious to the conflict going on, "if you two need anything, anything at all to help your evening along, Sal is your man."

Knowing exactly what he was hinting at, Olivia smiled darkly at him "Well thank you Sal. Just so you know who is asking for you, this is Assistant District Attorney Casey Novak and I'm NYPD Detective, Olivia Benson." Without another word or collecting his fare the cab driver got in his cab and left.

Elliot was the first to see the two women enter. He stood up and waved them to the back half of the bar. Munch, Fin, Cragen, Lyle O'Brien and Dean Mathews sat at one long buddy bar. Frank McCabe and some other unknown people sat nearby. "Nice of you guys to show up," Cragen said accusingly, "ADA Casey Novak this is Lyle O'Brien Captain of the 1-7."

"Nice to meet you Miss Novak."

"Call me Casey please." She slid of her coat and handed it to Munch. Fin started to get a stool for them but Mathews had already gotten another stool and set it next to him.

"Nice outfit counselor, although a little dressy for this crowd, don't you think?" Munch grinned as he held out his hand to receive Olivia's coat, "you gonna leave your coat on all night?" She only glared.

"Yes Olivia why don't you take off you coat and stay a while," Cragen warned.

"Come on Olivia, make nice with the others for a while then we can get out of here," whispered Casey.

Reluctantly Olivia took off her coat and handed it to John.

Elliot had been jockeying chairs when he heard glass breaking and the conversation stop at the table. He turned around to see Mathews with his hand in mid air. It looked like he was holding a bottle of beer but his hand was empty.

Mathews couldn't help himself as his eyes trailed from Olivia's face with her light hair partially covering one eye and smokey make-up to the low cut top, which revealed the top swell of her breasts and past the gold buckles to the triangle of skin exposed down her abdomen to the top of the skirt.

"Wow! I think this one tops the hooker get up," John quipped.

"I think you and Casey now have the full attention of almost every man in this bar," added Fin.

"And some of the women," Elliot laughed.

"I knew I should have brought my gun. And you Ms. Novak…"

"O…O…Olivia, I've got a chair here for you," Mathews finally managed.

Olivia looked down at the floor around the young man. It was covered with broken amber glass and beer.

"Oh, I'm sorry; I'll get that cleaned up." Dean's ears were bright pink.

"Hey don't worry about it kid. I got it." A heavyset man in his late fifties came over with a broom, dustpan and a mop. After he had gotten the mess cleaned up he leaned over to Mathews, "I damn near dropped a full bottle of crown royal when I saw her."

This only made Dean blush harder, "Here you go Olivia." He placed his jacket over the stool just in case any beer had gotten on it."

"My name is Harry, what can I get for you two lovely ladies?"

"I think I'll have a margarita. Liv? I'll buy," Casey offered, hoping to sooth her friend's prickly disposition.

"I'll have the same." Olivia finally sat down, crossing her legs.

"So do you think you can handle another beer there young fella, or do I need to get you a high chair?" Joked the bar tender but he got no reaction.

Dean was now staring at the long expanse of leg revealed by the slit in Olivia's skirt. This got the attention of the others at the table.

"Romeo, what's got your attention now?" asked Harry.

"Yeah, what other surprises could that outfit hold?" wondered Munch. He got up and headed around the table followed by Fin and Elliot. Casey just stared down at table.

Conceding defeat Olivia simply swiveled around in the stool so that they could see.

"You know I'm an old man, I'm not so sure my heart can take this, but let me tell you it's times like these that I love my job. So how 'bout it fella, you want another beer?"

"Dean!" Lyle O'Brien shouted.

"Uh, yeah, sorry, beer, good." Harry waddled off laughing to himself.

"Munch, I'm waiting. I know you have some comment." Olivia crossed her arms in front of her. John just shook his head and went and sat back down.

"Hey Olivia, your next drink is on me, I have never seen Munch speechless." Fin cackled. "Seriously!"

Don and Lyle now had to go see what was going on. Of course, being Captains they tried to be subtle.

"Liv, you weren't planning on coming here, were you?" asked Elliot.

"No El, I assumed Casey and I had other plans," Olivia said, pointedly offering a glare in the ADA's direction.

"Casey, I wouldn't be you right now for anything." Elliot patted her sympathetically on the shoulder.

"Casey's a little pissed at you Elliot so I wouldn't antagonize her," cautioned his partner.

"She is?"

"I am?" echoed Casey, "Oh yeah, I am. How come I got the abridged version of what happened to Olivia? I though we were all a team. Am I not good enough to warrant the time?" Casey was now thoroughly invested in bawling Elliot out with Munch and Fin happily looking on. Even Mathews was watching Elliot try to explain his way out of Casey's wrath.

Olivia sat smugly as her partner squirmed figuring she had gotten all attention off of her and her outfit. That is until she noticed her captain and his friend staring.

Don Cragen had always thought of the Detectives in SVU like children, even Munch. Okay, maybe especially Munch, but tonight he could not deny that he was still a red-blooded male and Olivia looked jaw dropping in that outfit.

That was it. She could deal with the "guys" or these other people she didn't know giving her a hard time, but to see her Captain staring at her like he'd never seen her before was too weird. She nervously turned herself away from his gaze.

"Ladies this round is on the owner." Harry pointed to a man about 50 years old with dark hair and graying temples sitting at the end of the bar, "says that he wouldn't need to remodel if you two would come in more often."

Casey laughed her green eyes sparkling in the dim light of the bar, "Tell him we said thank you."

"Actually he made these himself so he was wondering if you would let him know if you like them."

"Yeah Olivia, maybe you could get our whole night paid for if you flashed him a little skin," smirked Munch, "oh yeah, there isn't much skin left to flash."

"What is the big deal? You guys act like you've never seen me in a dress. Casey's dressed up too and you're not acting like jerks."

"Thanks for the ego boost, Liv."

"Oh Jesus Casey, you know what I mean."

"Ease up Liv," Fin held his hands up defensively, "we're just playing. We have seen you in dresses before but this one really reminds us that you're not just one of the guys."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Come on, Casey doesn't go chasing down dangerous rapists with us every day. If we didn't think of you as one of the guys, we'd be fussing over you all the time, saying shit like, you better wait in the car or that we'll interrogate the suspect."

Olivia contemplated this for a moment before picking up her drink by the green cactus shaped stem and took a large swallow. She felt the liquor hit her stomach and send its burning warmth coursing through her body, "Come on Case, let's go thank Mr. O'Malley for our drinks.

"I haven't seen you in a dress before," Dean's voice cracked, but he was regaining composure. Olivia just looked back over her shoulder and smiled.

"The dead hath arisen," laughed O'Brien.

"Man, you are good Fin," Elliot raised a toast to him.

"We might have been all right if Munch hadn't decided to try his stand up routine again," said Fin as he flipped Munch's hat off his head.

"What? I was just trying to lighten the mood."

"That's always your excuse, you never know when to give it a rest," Elliot argued.

"He did too know when to stop. At lease joking about it was better than standing around with your mouths hanging open," he pouted to himself.

"McCabe!" O'Brien hollered. "Why don't you order up a round of something, everybody's here now."

Frank ran into Casey part way to the bar, "Hey," he had noticed her sitting with his Captain and the others.

"Hi." Casey replied.

"I saw you with that table over there, O'Brien's my captain. You one of the guys' dates or something?"

"No, I came here with Olivia Benson, I'm…"

"Figures, you're the man hating dyke's date," he grumbled.

Casey looked over at Olivia still talking with the owner of the bar. Dyke is not a word she'd associate with the detective, "You must be Frank McCabe. No, I'm not Olivia's date. I'm ADA Casey Novak."

"Hmph, just as bad," he snorted.

"Wow Olivia was right, that McCabe is a real charmer."

"Oh, God what did he do now?" O'Brien was already out of his chair ready to drag McCabe back for an apology.

"Oh its no big deal, he just poured on the charm." She gave him a quick rundown of the conversation.

"Sorry about that, Casey. I'm just glad the Benson didn't hear the conversation. I think Mr. McCabe would be on his way to the hospital."

"Where is Olivia?" Cragen craned his neck around.

"Oh, she's still talking to the owner of the bar. He's giving her a step by step on how to make the perfect margarita."

"I think I need another beer." Mathews hopped up and headed for the bar.

"Got it bad huh?" Cragen asked sympathetically.

"I blame you Don." Lyle shook his head sadly.

"Why?"

"Just because it sounds good." The table erupted in laughter.

"Now that I have finished that fascinating tale, how about I tell you about making the perfect blue margaritas?" suggested the owner. His name was Jackson Williams and he had light brown eyes with a neatly trimmed goatee.

"Blue? Do I want to know?" Olivia didn't fail to notice how he had moved his stool closer to hers and how he leaned in to talk to her rather than talk louder.

"It's Tarantula Tequila, its citrus based and its blue."

"Does it have a hairy spider at the bottom of it?"

"No. No hairy spiders. Harry, a shot of Tarantula for the lady

Olivia eyed the blue liquid suspiciously, "I promise there is no spider at the bottom of the bottle. If there are any little hairs in there they are Harry's."

"Oh that's really appetizing," she laughed before picking up the shot and downing it.

"Impressive, no salt, no lime. How was it?"

Olivia shivered slightly, "Strong, but not bad."

"See I told you," he grinned. "You're sitting with Lyle O'Brien. I know he's a cop, are you?"

"Yes, a detective."

"Yeah really? There are a lot of cops that come in here. What division are you in? Vice? Robbery-Homicide?"

Figuring that Jackson was used to cops she didn't hesitate, "Special Victims Unit."

"Special Victims? You mean Sex Crimes?" Olivia could already see him pull back. The look was all too familiar.

"Yeah, Sex Crimes." She finished the last swallow of her margarita and stood up, "well thank you for the drink and the shot but I better get back to my friends."

"Uh yeah. Nice meeting you."

Dean Mathews had been close enough to see the change in Jackson and then in Olivia. He felt it would be inappropriate to try and say anything at the moment, so he just stepped off into a shadow when she got up to leave. He watched her head off down a small hall to the restrooms before he approached the bar to order.

"There is just something creepy about a woman working around rapists and other perverts all day," he overheard Jackson say to Harry.

"Hey how about another beer and…" he glowered at Jackson, "a margarita."

"You see Olivia it doesn't matter what you do, you still have to be punished for who you are. It will never change," her mind taunted. "You did a good thing for that little girl, who will never even think of you again, and still no one will have you. You are tainted. It is your very definition. Your job only makes it easier for others to see you for what you are - the daughter of a rapist. Your mother was right to do the things she did to you. Too bad she didn't kill you when she first found out about you. Or any of the other times either."

Olivia felt her headache returning with full force; it was time to go home. Besides she had been cold all week and was freezing in this dress. She would just tell them she was still was not feeling well. When she got back to the table, Frank McCabe was just setting down a tray full of tequila shots.

"Benson," McCabe handed her one of the shots. "To all our brothers in blue."

O'Brien smacked him hard on the back, "And our sisters too." His eyes never left Olivia's as he downed the shot. "So Benson you up for a friendly game of pool?"

She wanted to go home but she knew McCabe wanted her to leave too and she was not going to give him the satisfaction, "Sure sounds great. Losers buys the winners drinks?"

"Sure. You play partners?"

"Doesn't matter. Casey, you shoot any pool?"

"Why yes I do." She and her brothers had grown up with a pool table in the house and Casey was the champ, she wasn't going to pass up an opportunity to show up this jackass.

"Delaney you want to shoot some pool?" A man roughly the same build and haircut as McCabe grunted in the affirmative.

Dean put his hand on Olivia's shoulder, "Hey, I got you another drink." Olivia jumped only slightly but it was enough for Elliot to notice.

"Thank you Dean." Feeling the effects of the alcohol already she decided she didn't care what anyone (especially Frank McCabe) thought, so she placed a quick kiss on the side of his cheek. Cragen was sure that the boy's feet lifted off the ground.

"Man Donny, I don't know how you manage this crew. In your last precinct your core detectives were male and your ADAs were male. Now look, you get one of the toughest gigs around. Most people wouldn't touch SVU with a ten-foot pole, but you get one of the best looking ADAs in the system and one of your top detectives is as tough as she is gorgeous. You ever have trouble remembering your um…professional status?"

John who had been eavesdropping on the conversation decided to add his two cents, "I know I would have when she leaned into my car in that hooker outfit. Me, I was stuck in the van."

"I know she did that on purpose," Cragen blushed slightly.

"Somebody mentioned something about that hooker outfit earlier. What was that all about? You guys don't do vice," O'Brien asked.

"We had what looked like a serial killer after gay men so we staked out a party. To 'blend' in a little better, we put John in the van and I sat in a car like I was trying to pick up a pro. Earpieces connected John and me. Fin was a pimp and Olivia was the pro. When she spotted something suspicious she walked over to the car and leaned in and asked if I was lonely before pointing out her suspicions."

"You forgot the best part," Munch interrupted. "This dress was so short that even standing up it barely covered everything. It was lower cut than the one she has on now and she had high-heeled boots that came up to her knees. What I wouldn't have given to be in the car instead of the van."

Lyle glanced over at the pool table where Olivia was getting ready to break, "Get any pictures?"

Cragen broke out laughing. "We did that once. It nearly cost Elliot his life."

"What?" The mention of his name grabbed Stabler's attention.

"We were just talking about the time you took that picture of Benson in her dress," Munch explained.

"Thank God she was partnered with Fin that day or I think I might have 'accidentally' gotten shot that day."

O'Brien clapped Cragen on the back, "You got yourself a pretty good team Don."

"Yours isn't too bad either Lyle."

"Yeah except for my problem child. Frank's a decent cop and he's even learned to work with minorities and alternate lifestyles but strong women just set him off."

"Well that definitely describes Olivia."

"That's game. Guess the first round is on you McCabe," Dean mocked.

"What'll be Liv?" Casey asked.

"Shots? Tequila? Best not to mix the alcohol too much."

"Works for me. Hey and how about a beer for our cheering section," she patted Dean on the shoulder. Frank swore under his breath as he left to get the orders.

"That was a quick game. Did they even get a shot?" Fin observed several-stripped balls still left on the table.

"I think Officer Kyle Layton was a tad distracted or maybe intimidated by these two," Dean explained.

"He is usually pretty good. I don't know of too many people who haven't had their ass kicked by him more that once."

"Okay you're fired as our cheering section," Olivia shook her finger at him.

"What did I do?" He asked genuinely concerned.

"You basically just said that we don't have good enough skills as pool players to win."

"Liv, I don't know about Casey but I've played pool with you, you do okay…"

She interrupted Fin with a wave of her hand, "That was just for fun."

"And this isn't?"

She watched McCabe returning with their 'reward', "Not this time."

"Here are your shots ladies." McCabe handed Olivia and Casey each a double shot glass of liquor, two lime wedges and a saltshaker. They refused the limes and salt, toasted each other and downed the shots.

Shortly into the third game Elliot noticed that quite a few men in the bar had become engrossed in the game. He was pretty sure that it had little to do with the competition and more to do with the two woman and their outfits. Casey with her short dress as she leaned over to take a shot or Olivia's slender hip slung up on the table to get a better angle causing the slit of the skirt to ride a little higher.

"Son of a bitch!" Exclaimed McCabe as Olivia sunk the eight, ending the fourth round of play.

"That's three games to one, I haven't seen Layton loose that many since he transferred to the 1-7." Dean was now sitting with Lyle and Don.

"I don't think I've seen McCabe that mad since he had to work for Anita Van Buren for a week," Laughed O'Brien.

Munch shook his head, "I don't know how she is still standing." Casey had dropped out in the seventh round after downing her fifth double shot of tequila, but Olivia had just won a tenth round.

She swayed noticeably as she downed the drink, "Okay, I'm done."

"One more game," insisted McCabe.

"I said I'm done." She had started back towards the table when he grabbed her by the arm. Cragen wasn't sure who was moving faster, Elliot, Fin or Mathews. He was wrong on all counts; even drunk, Olivia had him face down on the pool table with his hand pinned behind his back. "I don't know exactly what the problem is here, but we played ten games with you, won eight. I think I gave you plenty of opportunity to even things up. And don't think I didn't know what you were doing when you bought double shots for us, and single, if you even drank one, for yourself. So if you don't mind I'd like to go visit for a while."

McCabe could hear the laughter all around him. "You don't think it gave you an unfair advantage dressing like that. I've seen hookers with more coverage."

"Not that it is any of your business how I dress, but Casey and I had other plans tonight when my boss asked that I stop by here and make nice with you for a few minutes beforehand. Now if you can't keep your mind out of your pants long enough to play a game of pool, that's not my fault."

"You bitch!"

"McCabe, I think it's time you went home." O'Brien's voice boomed over the crowd. Frank started to say something. "Now! You brought this all on yourself." Begrudgingly Frank got his coat and left. Kyle Layton and a couple of others that had been sitting at the same table followed shortly after.

"I'm sorry about that Olivia," after watching her teeter a little bit Dean offered her his arm to escort her to the table.

"You have nothing to apologize for."

"But I do," slurred Casey, "I really have to go home." Everyone said their goodbyes to the ADA and Benson along with Mathews waited outside with her until her cab came.

"Hey Liv, you want some coffee?" Elliot started to get up.

"No thanks El, what I'd really like is another margarita." Olivia could read the look in his eyes. "Don't you think you've had enough?" She was also pretty sure that he could read the look in hers, "If I thought I had had enough, I wouldn't have asked for another."

"No problem…Liv." Dean said trying out the nickname her coworkers had been using all night. "I was just going to get another beer."

The evening continued in casual conversations and reminiscences of the 'good old days' of drinking, by the two captains. While Elliot watched nervously as Olivia continued to drink.

As evening came to night the only ones that remained from the two combined precincts were Munch, Fin, Elliot, Olivia and Dean. Munch had been prattling on about one of his many conspiracies for about twenty minutes when Olivia interrupted him, "Hey Munch, do you have a couple of ones on you?"

Confused he pulled out his wallet and held out two one-dollar bills to her. "Why do you need them?"

"Because I am way too drunk to listen to any more conspiracy theories, they're starting to sound believable. So I am going to play some music to hopefully drown you out." She snatched the money and walked away.

"That is one cruel woman," Munch said feigning hurt.

After several minutes of scanning the selections, Olivia finally chose some music. She was going back to the group when she found herself suddenly being grabbed around the waist and pulled down a small hall.

She spun around, "Oh my God Dean! What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to startle you, I just wanted to talk to you," he was still holding her around the waist.

"About what?"

"What are you doing when you leave here?"

"More than likely going home. Why?"

Instead of answering he wrapped his hand in her hair and pulled her in for a kiss. In her drunken state she offered no resistance.

Elliot was just exiting the bathroom when he saw his partner and Mathews in a passionate kiss. He quickly darted back inside as he tried to decide if he should interfere and risk really pissing Olivia off, or let it go knowing she was not thinking clearly.

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute," Olivia finally pulled away, "how old are you?" Elliot sighed in relief.

Dean grinned, "Old enough to get in the bar."

"That does not answer my question." She looked up at him, desire clearly evident in eyes.

"Almost 24."

"I'm old enough to be your mother you know

He traced his finger along her cheek, "That's cliché. Besides my mother doesn't look like this. She never looked like this." He nuzzled her neck before slowly kissing his way along her jaw line.

Her arms involuntarily wrapped themselves around his neck. Here it was, her weakness, drunk and being lavished with attention by someone who knows what she does and doesn't care. Someone who knew nothing about her past and who she was.

"If I follow you home, will you keep me?" He whispered into her ear before recapturing her mouth in another kiss quickly deepening it.

Elliot peeked out the bathroom door just in time to see Dean and Olivia up against a wall.

Olivia slowly began to wake up. She was very surprised to find that for the first time in a week she was warm and comfortable. As her mind began to slowly wake up, she realized why she was warm. There was a naked chest pressed against her naked back. There was also a bare leg draped over her bare legs and an arm snaked tightly around her waist. "Olivia Benson what have you done?" She mentally scolded herself. First thing she needed to do was extract herself from this mans grip and go think. Slowly and carefully she lifted the arm from around her waist but ran into something unexpected; a familiar tattoo on the arm of her sleeping companion. "Elliot?" she gasped.