A/N: Anybody ever seen the very famous picture where Sophia Loren looks at Jayne Mansfield's (Mariska's mom) cleavage with distaste and judgement during a dinner party? You can google it under "Jayne Mansfield-Sophia Loren photo". Anyway, a little homage...
The 1-6 SVU detectives were all seated at the same large round table for dinner, an elaborate feast of insalata, prime rib, baby carrots and roasted potatoes, served with generous amounts of red wine. Olivia sat between Munch and Kathy, the latter taking note of her cleavage every few seconds. She wanted to tell Elliot's wife to knock it off. Silent judgement emanated loudly from the blonde's repeated scrutiny, making Olivia wonder more than once if her nipples were showing.
"Are you going to eat the rest of that?" Munch asked her.
"What?"
"The meat. You left half of it. Are you going to eat it?" he persisted, tapping Olivia's prime rib with his fork. "Can I have it?"
"Uh, sure, John." She'd lost her appetite anyway. From her seat, she couldn't properly see Elliot where the table curved away from her, but his wife inhabited her personal space. She was certain Kathy could hear every time she chewed. "Excuse me, I need to use the Ladies' room," she said.
"Wait, I'll come with you," Kathy called after her. Olivia winced but turned around and smiled at her. "Sure."
"Why do women always go to the bathroom together anyway?" Munch asked.
"So they can talk about us," Fin replied.
"Don't worry, there's not much to talk about," Olivia teased him. A small moment of joviality to disperse the tension coming from Kathy. She had a feeling Kathy wanted to talk. As she passed by Elliot's seat, she caught his eye, and noticed that he looked uncomfortable seeing them headed to the bathroom together. God, he was so handsome, she mused to herself. That tux fitted him to perfection, and his blue eyes seemed more vivid than usual beneath the chandelier lights. She dawdled, letting her gaze linger over him for a moment, the heady effects of too much Pinot Noir and not enough food slowing her down.
"Are you coming, Olivia?"
"Yeah, Kathy, I'm coming. These shoes aren't made for walking fast."
Kathy looked down at Olivia's feet, the perfectly pedicured crimson toes peeking out from thin strappy high heels. "They're not made for winter either," she commented rudely. "Neither's your dress. Aren't you cold? You look cold." Again, the blonde dipped her eyes to Liv's cleavage.
Olivia's eyes widened in surprise but she kept her mouth shut and followed Kathy to the Ladies' room. She avoided conversation by heading directly into a closed stall, and breathed a deep sigh of relief when she was finally alone. First thing she did was make sure her nipples weren't popping out of her dress. Check, they were fine, despite the dress' low neckline. The dress was revealing but after spending two hours trying on over a dozen of them in a row, this was the one she fell in love with. She loved the way it hugged her curves, and draped down elegantly to her feet. Also, the sheer velvety fabric was exquisitely soft and pleasurable to the touch. The material moved with her and made her feel elegant and beautiful, so Kathy could go suck an egg if she had a problem with it. The saleslady at the clothing store had assured her that the dress was perfect for formal evening wear and that she was lucky to have firm enough boobs to carry it off. The comment had made her blush, but she didn't disagree with the woman's assessment. She wondered if Kathy would go away if she stayed in the stall long enough, but no such luck.
"You almost done, Olivia? They'll be coming around with coffee and tea next."
"I'm coming." She stepped out of the stall and washed her hands, aware of Kathy's eyes on her back.
"Are you having fun tonight, Olivia?" Kathy asked as she sidled up to her and touched up her lipstick. The disdain in her voice carried through the false lightness of her tone.
"I suppose," she replied neutrally.
"You've been very quiet all evening," Kathy commented.
"I was chewing."
"But you hardly ate anything."
Olivia slammed her clutch purse on the counter and turned to face Kathy. "What's with the third degree, Kathy?"
Kathy pointed to herself in surprise. "I'm not giving you the third degree, O-liv-i-a. Just trying to make conversation." The blonde turned away and strode out of the bathroom, leaving Liv gaping after her. "What are you playing at, Kathy?" she whispered to herself.
After taking a few moments to compose herself, Liv headed back to her table. Kathy was already seated next to Elliot, her head inclined toward him, whispering in his ear. When she returned to her seat, the blonde ignored her, whereas Elliot stared for a moment too long.
"Good, you're back," Munch said. "We're up next," he told her.
"So soon?" Liv asked, a slight tremble in her voice.
"Wait, where are you guys going?" asked Fin, as Munch began to lead Olivia toward the front of the spacious ballroom.
"You'll see," John said with a grin. "My date and I are going to make special music together."
"John!"
"It's only one date, Olivia. Let me milk it for all it's worth, okay?"
"You're incorrigible," she laughed.
"And you're incomparable," he said, safely within the confines of their strong friendship and working relationship.
The two detectives made their way to the front of the room and waited for the Police Commissioner to introduce them. After giving a brief blurb about their precinct and jobs, he addressed the purpose of their presence on stage. "We all serve the great city of New York together, protecting and guarding it from crime. It's our city. At heart, we're all New Yorkers." He paused as the crowd voiced murmurs of approval. "I think none of us felt it more strongly than after 9/11," he said somberly. "We love our city and for tonight's entertainment, we asked some of our own boys in blue to give a musical rendition about our fine city. Oops, sorry Detective Benson, our people in blue. Officer Amelia Mendez composed the music and lyrics, Detective John Munch plays the piano, and Detective Olivia Benson sings this lovely tribute to New York. Please welcome them warmly."
"She sings?" hissed Kathy. "You didn't tell me she was going to sing," she continued, the reproach in her voice real.
Elliot shrugged. "I didn't know. I guess it's supposed to be a surprise." And surprised he was. He knew Munch dabbled in the piano and saxophone but had no idea that his partner of six years could sing. Truth be told, he was stunned. Even more so when she opened her mouth and began to sing, "Oooooh, New York". At first, she was tentative, holding her microphone awkwardly, too far from her mouth. John accompanied her on the piano, while the song's composer stood next to him with cymbals. Olivia continued singing, gaining more confidence with each line of music, her voice slowly gathering strength and momentum until she hit a powerful crescendo with the line, "concrete jungle where dreams of made of". She jumped back slightly, clearly having startled herself. From then on, she beamed, brightly smiling, and self-assured as she held the microphone close to her lips and leaned into the music, letting its powerful chords swell through her entire body. "Baby, I'm from New York …" and she kept on, a proud New Yorker belting it out robustly, her heart on her sleeve for the city that coursed through her very veins.
The crowd was moved, none more than Elliot, a born New Yorker to the core, accent and all. He'd been one of the first responders during 9/11, and had lost three close friends in the attack. But it was the aftermath that had given him newfound hope in humanity. At the time, his faith in God and people had almost been wiped out along with the Twin Towers. However, witnessing the way his city came together, people supporting each other, the random acts of kindness, and the strong backing of those in blue, had restored his devotion to this great city. His eyes began to well with tears as he remembered the lost friends, Stewart, Rick and Hiroshi. They'd all been at the Academy together, and though they'd been sent to different precincts around the city, they'd stayed in touch, the code of their brotherhood stronger than any friendships with civilians. Losing them had devastated him, and it was Olivia who had supported him during his time of grief and crisis. She too, had lost a couple of friends from the Academy but she'd remained a rock for him despite her own pain. 9/11 had occurred not even two years into their partnership, but the bond they'd forged in their shared sorrow had created a turning point in their friendship, building a bond that went beyond duty, beyond simple affection and beyond family.
He listened attentively to her now, mesmerized by her presence, the way her voice resonated exquisitely through the room and straight into his soul. Goosebumps rose on his arms when she hit a high note. He swallowed hard and wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. She was singing only to him; their eyes connected across the space between them, and the feeling was strong. Nobody else existed in this moment; only Olivia in her silver velvet dress, toned bronze arms gesturing widely, hips swaying in rhythm to the music. His heart was ready to lurch out of his chest as her dark eyes remained connected to his. When she was finished, the room broke into wild applause, and like a tidal wave forming through the crowd, people began to stand, expressing their approval with thunderous clapping.
"Encore!" some shouted.
"Thank you. Thank you all so much. But I'm sorry; I don't have another song," she apologized to her colleagues, overwhelmed by their reaction. She began to shrink behind the piano.
"Come on, you've got to know at least one other song!" somebody shouted.
"You're terrific, babe," another cop yelled enthusiastically. "Amazing!"
"Thank you all for your enthusiasm," the Police Commissioner came to Olivia's rescue. "And thank you Detective Benson for your stirring rendition of this song. It was beautiful."
She blushed and nodded, then began making her way back to her table, legs shaking from adrenaline. Munch came up behind her and they walked together, practically supporting each other. Her gaze was still upon Elliot; she'd connected with him during the song, remembering the trauma of their experience post 9/11. It wasn't something they talked about, but it was always there, tethering their hearts together. The song had brought it all back; the terror, the exhaustion, the loss, and so soon after losing her own mother. Despite it all, they hadn't even taken a break from their jobs because sex crimes hadn't stopped when those planes had hit the World Trade Center. She knew Elliot was having the same thoughts; he had a sombre look on his face, though now it was softened by another expression she'd never seen before.
"Liv," he whispered, as she and Munch sat back down in their assigned seats. His eyes bore into hers, solidifying an intimate connection between them. Neither one of them could blink or tear their gaze from the other. "Liv, you were amazing." His voice was gruff with emotion. Moving on instinct alone, he grasped her elbow, amazed by the silky softness of her golden skin. The air surrounding them crackled with an invisible force.
"Ahem," Munch cleared his throat loudly. Watching Stabler make googly eyes at his date wasn't sitting too well with him. And why was he holding her arm like that? "How was my piano playing?"
"What?" The two detectives looked up at their friend, dazed and dazzled.
"How was my piano playing?" he insisted, a bit more loudly this time.
Elliot blinked, suddenly woken from his trance. "Uh, it was great. Terrific playing, John. Good job."
"Yes, yes", the others at the dinner table added in agreement. Captain Cragen told them both what a wonderful job they'd done with the song, and how proud he was of them. Soon, they were all chatting and laughing together, learning about Olivia's minor in musical theory.
"Where's Kathy?" Liv piped up, only now aware that their table was one person short.
Elliot looked to the chair beside him in surprise. "Uh, I don't know. She must have just gone to the Ladies' Room or something."
"No. She left during the song," Fin informed them.
"No … that's impossible, I would have noticed," Elliot said, a deep flush creeping up his neck.
"You didn't notice," Fin replied flatly.
"Did you see where she went?" Elliot asked, angered by Fin's disapproving tone.
"No idea, man. She just up and left."
Elliot stood up and scanned the room for his wife, but he couldn't see her anywhere.
A/N: A little fluff piece that was supposed to be a one-shot needs at least one more chapter to finish. Hope you all like it. Reviews please!