Same disclaimers apply …

A/N – So I feel like this story is coming to an end, unless anyone can suggest where they think it should be going I think I'm going to wrap things up in the next chapter, or thereabouts. Not the end though – already got a few more things in the pipeline!

Thanks again for all the reviews, and I realise I say that every post and I hope it doesn't sound shallow because it really is great to read all your comments, I'm just sorry I can't reply to them all in person but I am reading and they are spurring me on to a) write this story more, b) write more stories in general and c) put Alex and Olivia in a variety of different situations for potential story writing at the most inopportune moments (i.e. when at work in the middle of a staff meeting …) So yeah, please keep up the reviews they are like food for the writers soul!

Apartment of Olivia Benson

The following evening …

"I can't believe you cook!" Alex giggles, noting that all I'm really doing is throwing mushrooms in the pan, which I'll follow with two juicy steaks that I picked up from the market on my way home. "Anything I can do to help?" She offers sweetly.

"There's some salad in the fridge." I suggest. "Dressing is in the door and there's tomatoes in the bowl on top."

"Mmmnn." She makes yummy noises as the meat hits the pan and an aroma fills the tiny kitchen of my apartment.

She's being cute, avoiding asking me what she really wants to know which is how our meeting with Donnelly and Branch went this afternoon.

Instead she plucks the tomatoes off their vine, chops the flesh and tosses them into the salad, mixing in a little light dressing before placing the salad bowl behind us in the centre of my modest dining table.

This is new for us, hanging out in my apartment doing ordinary things together. Even as 'Alex and Olivia who were just good friends, we often hung out at her apartment rather than mine, just in that the location was better and it afforded more space. Now I'm wondering if I tried to avoid bringing her here, because this space is hugely personal for me and only certain people are granted special entrance.

She grins at me, content to watch from afar as I dazzle her with my limited culinary skills. For some reason someone up there is smiling down on me and this is the third consecutive evening this week I've left work at a reasonable hour. Either that or there's just more incentive to leave, now that there's someone for me to want to go home to.

She comes up behind me, watching over my shoulder with her chin resting in the crook of my neck as I flatten the steaks in the pan. Her hands snake round my waist, moving from my hips to squeeze gently against my stomach and I sigh.

"Smells good."

I don't know if she means me, or the food, I don't care, she nuzzles my neck and inhales and my thighs tremble as my knees threaten to give way.

"Uh huh."

She laughs. "Relax Liv." Soft kisses trace a path down behind my right ear, finishing up at the angle of my jaw. "I'm not gonna start interrogating you until you've fed me, it smells too delicious."

I chuckle. "Lucky for you it's just about ready then."

Her stomach gives a loud grumble, and she releases her lips from my neck, seconds away from making me her appetiser. I'm suddenly relieved to have her here, to feed her and take care of her – she's seemed too fragile of late and the idea that Alex Cabot is happy eating steak and salad in my cobbled together apartment with wobbly chair legs at the dining room table makes me eternally happy and grateful.

"Come on then." I urge her, dishing up the steak and potatoes onto plates. "Take a seat."

She grabs the bottle of Merlot she's opened for us, and two glasses from the top shelf of the cabinet, placing them on the table and pouring generously into both.

"Thanks Liv, this looks great."

She flashes a glowing smile and I can't stop myself from leaning down to kiss her as I pass her plate. She arches up, her fingers tracing my jaw line as she holds me there to drag the kiss on deeper.

"Mmmnn."

She makes that sound, and once again my belly flips and my knees go weak.

I let my fingers linger a little in the hair against the back of her neck. "Eat your steak Alex."

We sit close, across one corner of the table; it's the way she chose to set it up. With a genuine smile she appreciatively takes a bite out of her steak, before kicking off one shoe first then the other, sliding her bare foot across the top of mine, and inching her way up my pant leg.

I grin. "I think your feet might get a little cold Counsellor?"

She smiles, her eyes never leaving the food she's devouring on her plate as she slides her foot up even further. "I'll find a way to keep them warm."

"Detectives."

Liz Donnelly's voice made me shudder, possibly at hearing another blonde ADA use that term in a manner reminiscent of Elliot and I being about to be reamed for something we'd either done, not done or supposedly should have done.

"Please." She continued. "Do come in."

We took our seats across the other side of the desk from Alex's boss Arthur Branch, with Donnelly perched by the window. The room smelled of scotch and cigar smoke and Elliot shot me a knowing glance as we both sat down, he really hates the class division between law … and order.

"I'm sure you both know very well by now why you're here." Branch grizzled, with his trademark smoker's rasp, he got up. "Alexandra broke the rules and now it's my job to clarify whether you two …" He hesitated then, seeming to consider whether or not to insert a derogatory adjective in there to describe us. "Knew about it or not?"

"Easy." Elliot's heckles instantly went up, he can be so damn defiant towards anyone in a position of authority, not that I suppose I'm any better. "We didn't."

Branch shot him a glare of frustration.

"When ADA Cabot contacted you to inform you of the search of the Cavanaugh residence who did she speak to?" Liz asked, knowing full well from her conversation with Alex that that was me.

"Me." I replied calmly, arms crossed around my front.

"And what exactly did she say?" Branch prompted, his tone that of a father trying to prise information from his unwilling, unruly children.

I shrugged, I couldn't help myself. "Can't remember."

Donnelly snorted. "Olivia, I've known you many years, your memory is a hell of a lot better than that!"

I turned back to see her smiling oddly at me. "Fine." I mumbled. "She said we could go ahead and search the Cavanaugh's apartment."

"She didn't say she had a warrant?" Branch asked.

"Not in those words, no."

"But it was implied?" Donnelly suggested. "I mean, you and Alex are friends, right? She wouldn't have to say something word for word, for you to know what was meant by it?"

Elliot and I both shot her a perplexed look. "What's that supposed to mean?" Elliot snapped.

"Just that." Donnelly pressed.

"Yes." I stated warily. "Yes, I suppose from what Alex said I assumed that she had a warrant for the search." I figured since Alex was already out on suspension, some things didn't matter anymore. "But no, she never actually said it."

"What about when you arrived at the residence?" Branch asked, sounding as if he was growing tired by the whole thing. "What happened then?"

Elliot sighed, matching the older man's irritation. "Cabot was standing in the doorway with Linda Cavanaugh, she held the door open for us …" He added pointedly. "Liv asked if there were any restrictions on the search, Alex said no, and we went in."

For a split second a brief memory of that moment washed over me, the sight of Alex – pale and gaunt, leant against the door frame to the outside of the Cavanaugh's apartment. I couldn't help acknowledging to myself that right then I cared less about what we would find inside that apartment and more about helping her.

As we left Branch's office, Donnelly followed us out and called me back. "Detective Benson, may I have a word?"

Elliot shot me a pitying glace. "I'll see you downstairs."

I nodded, steeling a deep breath before following Liz down the opposite coridoor towards her own office.

"Please …" She gestured inside.

I tossed my jacket over the back of a soft leather chair, something about Liz Donnelly being friendly made me a degree beyond uncomfortable.

"How is Alex?" She asked, laying the question open to be interpreted either way.

"I … um … she's fine I suppose." I faltered. "A little bored I think."

"Already?" She suppressed her laughter down to a mild chuckle. "I thought even Alex would last a little bit longer than this!"

I shrugged, not wanting to betray how well I knew just *how* bored Alex was, thereby betraying also how well I now knew Alex.

"Here …" Liz passed me a small stack of files. "I'd be grateful if you could pass these on to her when you see her, just a little light reading to keep her occupied."

"I …" I stumbled again, hating how Liz seemed to be steps ahead of me at every turn. "How do you …?"

I meant to look incredulous as if to suggest that Liz was barking up the wrong tree if she thought I had plans to spend time with Alex during her suspension, the look on her face as I looked up told me it was pointless, turns out we were kidding no one.

"Give her my regards …" Liz added, issuing my dismissal. Her voice softened as I picked up my jacket and made set to walk out the door. "And tell her I hope she's feeling a bit better about things now."

I turned back, but she was already busy with something else, preparing to pick up the phone on her desk and make a call. I've no idea what made me do it, perhaps some curious need to speak to someone who was as inside Alex's head as Elliot was in mine.

"You knew?"

Liz replaced the receiver and looked up. "I suspected that you both had feelings for each other, yes. But …" She added gleefully. "Up until about thirty seconds ago I had no idea that I was right!"

Damnit!

I shrugged. "Well played."

She chuckled as I turned and left. "You're not the only one with interrogation skills Olivia!"

Alex's steak is half eaten and her left foot is halfway up my calf towards my knee, making it difficult to concentrate on anything, especially food.

She makes me laugh so much with her playful little ways, acting all innocent so I'll be lulled into a false sense of security before she goes and turns the tables on me. Ever since she arrived this evening, wrapped her arms around my neck and whispered in my ear that she couldn't take it any longer, she simply had to know what happened with Donnelly and Branch.

These seductive tactics are designed to make me forget that I said I'd make her wait until after I fed her.

"No work Alex, food first."

She wiggles her toes, sliding forth to tickle behind my knee and on instinct my left hand whips down beneath the table, grabbing her ankle firmly and preventing further onslaught.

"Oh. Did I tell you Donnelly knows about us?" I state, my face completely still as I pretend to be eating my food with serious gusto. Alex's cutlery clatters in astonishment down onto her plate.

"What?"

Her foot falls to the floor, mission accomplished, I'll get this food down her even if it kills me.

"Eat your steak Alex."

She frowns at me and luckily I know she's not really mad. "Well played."

I burst out laughing. "Funny, that's exactly what I said to Donnelly."

She folds her knife and fork neatly together and pushes the plate away, eyes focused on me intently. "Alright Detective, spill."

I grin, pushing my chair away from the table as I tap my lap, encouraging her to sit.

This is her favourite place to be, legs astride my lap – leaving her free to cover my body with the warmth of her embrace as she takes full advantage of the easy access it gives her to my mouth, my neck, my chest. All the while she's dominating me as I'm pinned beneath her, powerless to fight even if I wanted to.

She runs her fingers along my temples, capturing my lips in a breathless kiss, kneading them softly with her own as she nips and bites then soothes the sore skin with her tongue, tasting the sweet hint of dinner that still lingers.

"Mmmn." She moans into my mouth, her long tongue flicking against mine. "Dinner was amazing, but I still think you taste better."

My head thuds back against the wall behind, suddenly I'm not sure I'm still in control of this game that I started.

She grabs both my wrists from behind her back and holds them high above my head, loving the way I go limp beneath her, prepared to let her do whatever she wants with me. I've made it no secret that I also love it when she straddles me like this, the feel of her ass in my lap as she grinds slowly against my pelvis, easily obtaining access to anything she wants.

She holds my wrists together with one hand, using the other to work the buttons of my shirt open, only just as far down as my bra.

"So what exactly did Donnelly say?" She asks, placing a distracting line of hot wet kisses along the right side of my jaw.

I long to touch her, run my hands across the soft firm flesh of her ass and cup and squeeze the cheeks, making her moan wildly into my mouth. I know she won't give me what I want until I give her what she wants, but two can play at that game.

I wrestle my wrists free of her grip, hearing her gasp as I swiftly stand, holding her tight against me with my palms planted firmly on her thighs. She instinctively wraps her legs around my waist, nuzzling her face into my neck and inhaling deeply, resuming the wandering trail of kisses along the line of my jaw.

"What did she say Liv …?" She sing-songs in my ear, following her words with her tongue to trail around the sensitive spot behind. "Tell meeeeee …"

We almost make it to the bed, before I stumble slightly and realise that this will be the first time I have her in my bed and I'm allowed to touch her and love her any way that I want, and so the thought derails me, and we crash against the doorframe.

She feels me hesitate and looks up, grasping my face on either side as she runs her tongue across my lower lip, seeking entrance to show my mouth what she has planned for us. She's begging with her eyes, desperate for me to touch her.

"Liv … please?"

I drop her down onto the bed, crawling on top, shedding my shirt as I go. "You still want me to tell you about Donnelly?"

She nods, teasingly rolling her hips against my stomach, her blonde hair fanned out over the bed, she's so beautiful I almost forget I mean for this to drive her crazy.

"Alright …" I agree, sitting up. My eyebrow shoots up, struggling in the same way my lips are from curling into a knowing smile. I lean forward to breathe huskily against her ear. "Every time you come, you get to ask a question."

Her voice drops a couple of octaves. "Liv …"

I grin, grabbing behind her knees as I pull her towards me. "Those are the rules, Alex."

She rolls her bottom lip between her teeth. "I fail to see how there's a negative in there for me?" She mocks, teasingly.

Her bravado makes me growl, even submitting to me she somehow manages to retain an upper hand. I inch myself over her. "You're assuming I'm going to make it easy for you …" I tease, hovering above her as she writhes beneath, knowing any attempt she makes to gain more contact could make me pull away. "I'm not."

She groans. "Liv please."

I undress her slowly, first her sweater and shirt together, my hands pushing up underneath to reveal a milky white expanse of skin – it's soft and yet toned, from all the mornings she spends out pounding the running routes in Central Park.

The mental image of Alex in her tight running pants and sports bra distracts me for a moment, until she lifts her ass to beg for some contact against my middle.

"Liv … baby."

There's a husky need to her voice, she brings her hands down to run through my hair, urging me to hurry up my slow torture of undressing her.

"Liv, you're killing me."

I grasp her hands in my own, placing them over her head and forcing her to lie back and accept what's happening to her. "Patience, or I'll stop and then you'll never get to ask your questions."

She pouts. "This qualifies as torture." She whines, only relenting when I slide her shirt higher, following the path with my tongue, to reveal beautiful breasts encased in a pale blue lace bra.

"Off." I command, and she obliges, her willingness to give in drives me crazy.

"Take me Liv …" She purrs. "You know you want to."

I do want to.

I growl, again, my hands move to her pants and within seconds they join her shirt and sweater on the floor on the other side of the bed. She's beneath me in her underwear, flushed and panting and practically begging me to touch her. I rise up over her, and without giving any of the contact she craves I hold myself over the length of her body, whispering close against her mouth.

"Stay there."

She watches me from the bed, not moving – just as I instructed – but with her head slightly raised so she gets to watch me undress, my eyes never leaving her body until we're both down to our underwear and she starts to writhe.

"God Liv …"

Her voice drips with wanton need, and I almost pass out just from remembering how she feels - hot and wet and wrapped around my fingers, silently begging for more.

My panties, her bra, it all comes off in a hurried frantic mess, joining the rest of the clothes on the bedroom floor. She lifts her hips, meeting my hipbone with hot wet heat as she slides against me, her nails raking over the back of my shoulders.

"Oh … fuck …"

I could watch her come undone like this all day, her lips parted in wordless ecstasy as she waits for me to make my next move, knowing I'll get her there.

I fall against her, feeling the tingling of perspiration on her skin, we fit together so perfectly, the way she feels as she lies beneath me – writhing in pleasurable agony. I take hold of her hands, pinning them above her head as she fights me, raising her head from the bed to capture my bottom lip between her teeth and pull it roughly to her, drawing a growl from somewhere deep down inside.

"Liv …" She pants against my ear. "I don't give a fuck about Donnelly … just fuck me … please … I need you."

Oh God, those words coming out of Alex's mouth, desperate and truly needy, I'm torn between taking her fast or dragging it slow, too overwhelmed to rationally decide.

I keep my hand up above, holding hers firmly in place, peppering her face with featherlight kisses as my other hands snakes a path down her body, coming to rest in the short damp curls at the juncture of her legs. She bucks her hips half-heartedly to meet by hand, the weight of my body preventing her from any real movement but she tries anyway.

"Please …"

I nod, kissing her firmly as my middle finger slips down and around, barely teasing her entrance. "Ok baby."

She moans loudly, writhing up and down as I move south, capturing one nipple in between my teeth and sucking hard as my finger dips partially inside her. She wriggles free of my grasp and moves her hands to grab the headboard.

"More … Liv, please!"

This is different, this need etched on her face, it's powerful and passionate like the fire behind her eyes when we'd fight sometime at work then talk about how we both needed the adrenaline to remind us that we're alive. Right now she's seeking the same release, the raw demanding energy that comes from having held a card in the wrong hand that was played. Me making her come won't change what happened, there's no bringing Sam Cavanaugh back or changing the decisions we acted upon, but maybe I can bring Alex back from wherever she's been hiding in the last few weeks.

I reach her abdomen, and she arches from the bed as I shove my tongue deep inside her belly button, swirling and licking before trailing a path back up her middle to rake my teeth across her nipple, rolling the other one between thumb and forefinger as my other hand does the same against her clit. She cries out wildly, not coming but almost, simply with the sheer force of it.

Her eyes fly open, searching for mine in a moment of rare uncertainty, and as I slide one finger into her, warm and wet and waiting, I creep back up her body to reassure her, eagerly adding another, and then another.

She frowns, taking in the stretch of me inside her. I search her face for something I'm afraid to find.

"Is this ok?"

She nods, slowly rocking her hips against my hand. "Please Liv, harder …"

I go to disappear back down her body again but she asks me to stay. "No … here …" Locking her right hand around the back of my head and pulling my down to kiss her.

Her kiss says everything she can't, that she needs me to take away the guilt she's carrying around, that she's sorry – for all the time we wasted and all the reasons we had for keeping the distance and the walls we built between us. A silent tear rolls down her cheek, and I can taste the saltiness on my tongue as I curl my fingers inside her, watching her stomach muscles clench as the base of my palm rubs against her clit.

"Oh God baby … right there … right there …"

She starts up a chant of my name, over and over like a liberation song or a prayer. I rake my teeth along her bottom lip and she drives her fingernails into the skin on my back, crying out my name as she comes.

Then I watch her fall, first violently – like the crescendo of those symphonies she loves to listen to so much, then softly and gently. A deep, long expanse of shattering and building and coming apart again until she can't fall any further and she's silent and limp in my arms.

Then tears come, and I realise that's okay because she asked me to be the one to break her, knowing that when it happened I'd be right there beside her to hold her close and put her back together again.

TBC

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