Chapter Five:

"Are you going to eat it, or just stare at it?"

I glance up from my sad-looking donut on its gooey napkin and shake my head at John Munch. He's obviously baiting me, and I try to play along, even though my heart isn't in it. "You wish, pervert. Besides, I'm not a stereotype."

Munch grins at me, completely unrepentant. "I thought you were the token girl?" he asks, taking a large, messy bite of his bavarian cream. I don't dignify him with a response. After what happened this morning, I'm not in the mood to banter. Sometimes, I wonder if I am a stereotype. Not the token girl, but the broken one. The one with the tragic past. The one running away from her demons. There's one of those in every story.

"I thought you were the token girl, Munch," Fin says from across the room. Munch gives a muffled, unintelligible response around his mouthful of donut. I ignore them both, grateful for the reprieve. Maybe Fin senses my mood and is trying to draw Munch's attention off me.

It's been a fairly quiet morning so far, mostly paperwork and phone calls. Despite how busy we are, policework involves a lot of waiting. Waiting for the District Attorney's office, the lab, or any number of other people to do their jobs before we can do ours. Unfortunately, crimes aren't solved in an hour. I'm not sure whether to be grateful for the slow day, or sad because it means I have more time to think. To remember.

Having sex with Alex this morning was a mistake. A big one. It was too raw, too dangerous, and I discovered something frightening about myself. It's surprisingly easy to fuck her, even when I know what she's thinking about. Too easy. The fact that my crisis of conscience didn't hit me until after I finished… I don't want to think about what that says about me. Do my desires really control me that much?

I wish I knew why my father raped my mother. There's never a satisfactory answer to that kind of question, but I want to know anyway. Was he just a sadist? A sociopath? Or was it a slip of control? Neither is excusable, neither erases the evil behind the act of rape, but the second possibility is more frightening to me. I know I'm not a sociopath or a sadist. At least, I don't think I am. I don't want to hurt Alex, physically or emotionally. But if he lost control… If I lost control...

I pick up the stale, sticky donut and toss it into the trash can beside my desk. My stomach is churning, and I'm afraid if I put anything in it, I'll have to run for the bathroom. Munch and Fin are still bickering, and they don't seem to notice me. I swallow hard and stare down at the file in front of me, praying the nausea will pass. It's an old file from a few months ago. One I shouldn't even have out.

Darrell Guan.

I look at his picture, at his face, trying to figure out if I can see any of myself in him. I know better than most that you can't tell if someone's evil just by looking at them, but I have to try. Whether he's evil or not, he's definitely damaged. I remember sitting in Huang's office after the trial, glancing back and forth between his face and the window, unable to hold his eyes for long. I was afraid of what he would see in them. In me.

The question I asked that day still haunts me. It frightens me even more now than it did then. Did Darrell Guan have a choice? Does anyone? Did my father? Do I?

Huang told me I was proof that we had a choice, but after this morning, I'm not sure. Maybe there is some kind of crazy violent gene. Maybe I have it. Maybe I'm even more broken than I thought, and it's only a matter of time before Alex's fantasies turn into some kind of twisted reality.

Alex. Just thinking her name makes my chest ache. I left her alone this morning. Darted out of the shower as soon as she got in, dodging her kiss and catching her cheek instead while I mumbled something about being called in for an emergency. She knew I was lying, and I'll have to deal with that later, too. I hope she's free of her guilt, even if I'm not free of mine, but I know it isn't likely. She's hurting, too, maybe even more than me.

I can't force myself to sit still anymore. I push back my chair and stand up, closing the file and putting it in my desk drawer. Just in case. I tell myself I won't pull it back out and look again, but I know I'm lying. "Hey, Munch, do you know if Huang's in today?" I ask before I can stop myself. I don't want to talk to him, but part of me feels like I have to. I can't go to some departmental shrink who doesn't know me about this. I can't go to Elliot, not after what we've been through together. And I definitely can't go to Alex.

"I think so," Munch says. I notice a few wadded up napkins on the floor surrounding his desk and wonder exactly what he and Fin were up to while I was lost somewhere in my own head. "Why?"

Fin grunts and gives Munch a disapproving glance. "Doesn't matter why. You ain't the one that needs to see him." This time, I'm sure he knows something's wrong. He's trying to give me some cover, and I appreciate it. I give him a small, grateful smile and leave the bull pen before Munch can ask any more probing questions.

I hide out in the bathroom for a few minutes, locking myself in a stall and staring into the toilet just in case I do decide to be sick, but eventually, I wander back out into the hall. Fortunately, there's no sign of Munch, Fin, or the Captain. Elliot's off today, like I'm supposed to be, so I know I won't run into him. I head for Huang's office, walking briskly so that I can't change my mind. I won't tell him everything, but I'll tell him enough.

He calls for me to come in on the first knock. When I step inside, he greets me with a warm smile from behind his desk. His introduction to the squad was a little rocky, since none of us appreciate other people telling us what to do, but the two of us understand each other now. I respect him, and I know he respects us. Our conversation after Guan's trial only helped cement that.

"Olivia? It's nice to see you." Huang is polite, but I know what he's really saying. We aren't sharing any of the same cases. He wants to know what I'm doing in his office.

"You aren't busy, are you, George?"

He shakes his head. "Not too busy for you. Take a seat."

I slump into the chair. I can't decide whether I'm exhausted or wired. All the confusion, all the guilt has me worn down, but fear keeps lighting up in me, making my heart rate pick up speed. "I'm not sure if you know, but I've been seeing someone for a few months now."

Huang's eyebrows raise a little. "Someone?"

"A woman," I confess. He's probably already guessed, and that's one detail I can't leave out of my explanation. At least I can keep Alex's name a secret. No one knows about our relationship yet, even though it's one of the longest I've managed to sustain. Neither of us want to risk our jobs, and the stakes are too high.

"That doesn't seem like the type of thing that would bother you, Olivia." He eyes the leather jacket I'm wearing. "Or something you're trying very hard to hide."

"I don't talk about it or hide it, but that's not what's bothering me. The woman I'm seeing…" I have to choke back Alex's name. "She's amazing. The best relationship I've ever been in. But she…" I don't know what to say. How am I supposed to explain Alex's fantasies? How am I supposed to explain my reaction to them? There's no good way to talk about this kind of thing. "She has sexual fantasies that I don't know how to handle."

Understanding dawns on Huang's face. If he's surprised I'm talking about my sex life with him, or disturbed by the notion, he doesn't show it. He leans forward over the desk and rests his elbows on the edge, clasping his hands in front of him. I almost give a panicked laugh. He looks like such a psychologist. "Fantasies about domination and submission? Or fantasies about pain?"

I stare at my lap and mumble, "Both, I guess. Maybe not the pain so much. I don't know. It's not easy to talk about it with her. I found out by accident." Fortunately, Huang doesn't ask how I found out. I would have had to lie and tell him I stumbled across Alex's porn instead of mentioning the file.

"Have you ever been in that type of relationship before?"

Huang's question confuses me. Why does it matter? "No, I haven't."

"I guess the question you need to ask yourself now is if you want to be."

I want to be. Of course I want to be. At least, I want a relationship with Alex. I'm not sure if the kinky sex that comes along with it is something I would seek out again if we broke up. Probably, but I don't want to think about it. I don't know what else I want, but I do know that I want her. "I want to be." My voice drops even lower. "I just don't know if I should be."

"Why not? I think you're the ideal partner for someone with those desires."

I don't know what I expected Huang to say, but that isn't it. "Me?" I repeat, pointing at myself.

Huang nods. "Yes. You know all about soliciting consent. Your previous experiences as a detective make you careful."

Careful? Was I careful this morning? Looking back, I can't tell whether I was giving Alex what she needed, or taking what I wanted. Maybe both. It's all mixed up in my head. Even though it started out as her fantasy, it doesn't feel that way anymore. Part of me is invested in it. Maybe that's why I'm so afraid of it. "Do you think there's anything a person can't consent to?" Anyone a person shouldn't give consent to? I don't let myself ask the second question.

"Legally, there are things a person can't consent to, but everyone draws their own lines. You need to figure out where yours are. Decide what you want to do, and if you can do it safely. Not just safely for her, but safely for you. I think the answers you find might surprise you."

I almost tell him everything. Almost confess what I've done. But even though he probably already knows, I can't. I'm too confused. Too scared. Too hurt. And underneath all that, part of me is still aroused. I remember the way Alex looked this morning, stripped from the waist down and bent over the table. A shiver runs down the middle of my back.

I stand up and circle the chair. "Thanks, George. I guess I need to think before I do anything else."

"Good idea. But don't think too much," he says before I open the door. "I know you, Olivia Benson. You have a hard time letting certain thoughts go, even when they're wrong." That's when I'm sure he knows exactly what I'm talking about. It's strange how Huang and I can have a conversation about rape and my father without actually mentioning either one.

"Got it." I slip back out into the hallway, unsure whether I feel better or worse after talking to Huang. Mostly, I'm just tired. I wish I had actually gotten a chance to drink some of the coffee at Alex's apartment this morning.

Alex. I have to think of something to say to her when I get home. We don't spend a lot of nights apart anymore. I'm at her place more often than mine. In fact, I don't think I've been back there for the past week. It's lonely without her. If it wasn't for our jobs, I would move in with her. Or, at least, I would have before…

I shake my head. This is just a rough patch. A temporary problem. It's something we can work through. I'm still not sure what I want or what the solution is, but I won't leave her. We're too good together, and I care too much. I don't know where my line is or whether I can trust myself, but as long as Alex wants me, I'll be there.