A/N: I'm inclined to hate it if you are (ie, feedback is appreciated). Manvils for Alex depress the hell out of me.
Rating: T
Spoilers: Conviction, I suppose
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine; I don't get paid for this, etc.
She can't say when exactly she stopped caring. Sometime after being shot and before becoming Bureau Chief. But was it before or after the Connors trial? Before or after Wisconsin, Arizona, Nebraska? Somewhere between Emily, Jessica, and Sarah?
She remembers the tears in Olivia's eyes. How long? And how her heart shattered as the convoy pulled away. Waking up to snow falling on a cold Wisconsin morning and shivering, thinking she could by cryogenically preserved until the warmth of Olivia's body next to her would bring her back to life.
She remembers Olivia's sad eyes hiding behind a smile, asking if she wants to play backgammon, if she's making any friends. Maybe it was then, when she started to hate her just a little bit. For pretending this was all normal, that it didn't mean anything more than Alex being there to testify. That the last year and half hadn't been hell. The claims adjuster—what was his name? Greg? Tim? That was to test her. One last chance, and when Olivia gave her that peculiar smile, Alex looked away.
She remembers running on a treadmill at the gym—outside she's too exposed, too vulnerable—and hating her for that smile, for that unconditional acceptance, for shutting Alex out, literally and figuratively, for never saying I love you, for being wrong when she accused Alex of only caring about her career, for being right when she said there's no reason for you to die for this.
She remembers waking up alone in bed and stretching. Buying the Times and reading the national news first. Telling herself it was normal, the images of Olivia that flashed through her mind when she was drinking coffee or cooking dinner or having sex. After all, they worked together for years.
She didn't doubt that Branch would offer her a job. How could he not, his golden child raised from the dead? She didn't expect it to be Bureau Chief, but hell, if that's what he thought best, who was she to argue? Her ADAs acted like five-year-olds sometimes, but she could handle that.
Drug dealers? We don't cut deals (unless they know someone important). A child killer? Is he old enough to seek the death penalty? A mother faking her child's cancer? Hmm, well, go ahead, we'll have a sympathetic jury.
How have you been, Counselor?
I'm sorry I never…Fine, detective, I've been fine. No racing heart, no dry mouth, no temptation to let her eyes stray from the detective's face.
Would you like to get dinner sometime?
I…no. No, thank you.
Olivia looks like she's been slapped, but is trying not to show it. Alex thinks she should feel guilty, but she really doesn't feel guilt anymore. Or much of anything. Maybe it's not fair, but if there's one thing she's learned, it's that life isn't fair. Fair is getting justice for every victim; fair is having a lover without risking your career; fair is not using someone else to replace the one you love. But life isn't fair. So kill or be killed. Alex knows it's not fair, but if there's one thing she's learned, it's that you screw people over before they do you.
I hear congratulations are in order, Counselor, her voice catching on the word.
Alex nods.
The detective touches her hand gently, examining the ring, refusing to meet Alex's eyes, and Alex feels a ping of longing for what might have been.
Beautiful, Olivia finally says, looking up, and Alex isn't sure if she's talking about the ring or the person wearing it. She blinks, realizes it doesn't matter. The diamond's not so pretty, if you compare it to Olivia's face, and the man who gave it to her not so handsome; and the wedding will be mundane, as all weddings are, really, and she'll go back to her job she doesn't deserve and put kids away for life, because this is what life has handed her. It's not fair, but Olivia will get over it. She has.