Chapter Six:  Sticks and Stones

 

Olivia threw the door open so forcefully that it rebounded behind her, slamming back into it’s frame with a rattling crash that startled the few people loitering outside of One Hogan Place.  Ignoring their surprised stares, she pushed past them without so much as an ‘excuse me’ as she slammed down the steps to the sidewalk.

 

When she reached the curb, the detective pulled herself to a stop, sucking in deep breaths of cold air that she expelled from her mouth in plumes of white steam.  Turning back, she stared up at the building, her heart aching in her chest as she tried to process what had just happened.

 

How could a situation go from wonderful to crap in so short a time?

 

Part of her, the part that had been kicked in the teeth enough in her life, wanted to say fuck it; to just wash her hands of the whole mess.  But a larger part of her could not ignore the way she had felt when she held Alex in her arms.  The way her self doubts, her fears, hell even the rest of the world, had ceased to exist.  For the first time, sex hadn’t just been sex.  For the first time, she had actually understood what everyone else was talking about.

 

Sighing, she tried to rein in her anger.  She knew Alex was scared, she just couldn’t figure out why or of what.

 

But then she was a detective, right?

 

Her phone rang and Olivia reached into her jacket, pulling it out to tap it against her forehead a few times before finally answering it.

 

“What?”  She barked.

 

“Whoa!  What crawled inside your boxers and died?”

 

She ground her teeth and counted to ten before answering.  “I don’t wear boxers.  What do you want?”

 

“Are you ok?”  She could hear the concern in Elliot’s voice and tried to drag her frustration down a notch.  “What happened?  Did Cabot chew you out or something?”

 

Olivia snorted, a bitter laugh escaping her lips.  “Something like that.”

 

“So I take it we’re not getting the warrant for Tate’s financials?”

 

“No, I got it.  She said it would be there within the hour.  Can you get the ball rolling on that?  I have to stop off at my apartment on the way back.”

 

Elliot laughed lightly.  “You always did have a way with Cabot.  From now on you get to go whenever we need anything.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.  Can you cover for me?”

 

“Sure, but what’s at your apartment?”

 

“My common sense?”  She sighed.  “I just got too close to the curb and a cabbie decided to give me a bath.  I need a shower and some dry clothes.  I’ll be back at the precinct within the hour, okay?”

 

“Yeah, sure.  I’ll see you then partner.”

 

            *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *

 

Olivia stepped out of the shower, using a towel to dry her hair before wrapping it around her torso.  She pulled open her medicine cabinet and dipped her fingers into a jar of gel on the bottom shelf.  Closing the mirror, she leaned in close as she tumbled her brown locks between her fingers, scowling at herself for a moment before stepping back.  When she did, her eyes grew wide as she took in the pale purple bruises scattered across her shoulders.

 

Reaching up, she touched them gently, surprised that she had marked at all; usually her skin coloring hid that sort of thing.  For them to show, Alex’s grip would have to have been intense.

 

Swallowing, she closed her eyes as memories of that afternoon flashed through her mind.  Alex’s hands in her hair, wrapped around her shoulders… digging into her back.  She opened her eyes and stared at herself as she remembered the taste of blood on the blonde’s tongue.  She gently pulled at her lower lip, wincing when she saw the angry red line of the cut that had been reopened when Alex bit her.  She hadn’t felt it at the time; she had been busy feeling too many other things.  But now that she was aware of it, it stung like a bitch and she knew it would drive her crazy. 

 

Not just because of the pain, but because it would make her think about what she had shared with the beautiful young lawyer who now seemed to want nothing to do with her.

 

            *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *

 

“Liv!”  Elliot grinned at his partner as she walked into the observation room.  “Jackpot!”

 

“DNA match?”  She asked in disbelief.

 

“Well, no.”  He shook his head.  “Serra Tate was not the mystery guest in Wainscott’s bed that night.  But this is almost as good.”

 

Olivia glanced through the two way mirror and saw Serra sitting in the same position she had been in earlier.  “Has she been in there this whole time?”

 

“Huh?”  Her partner glanced at the blonde and shrugged.  “I guess so why?”

 

“Because she’s not a perp, Elliot!  She’s just a girl that found herself in a bad situation!”

 

“More than one, apparently.”

 

Olivia arched an eyebrow.  “What do you mean?”

 

He handed her a printout.  “This came over five minutes ago from First Mutual.”

 

She read over the information, a sinking feeling in her stomach when she realized what it was.  “Come on.”

 

Elliot followed her into the room, standing attentively beside Tate this time as Olivia slammed the paper down on the table in front of the startled blonde.

 

“You want to tell me what the fuck that is, Serra?”

 

“Wha…what?”  She leaned forward and glance at the printout, paling slightly.  “I can explain.”

 

“You can explain?”  Olivia rolled her eyes before dropping into a chair.  “Ok, then please explain how a hundred and fifty thousand dollar check from Preston Industries managed to find its way into your bank account a month and a half ago?”

 

Serra stared down at the statement, her mouth opening and closing as though she were trying to think of something to say.

 

“Spill it!”  Olivia ordered.  “Otherwise you’re definitely going to need that lawyer you mentioned earlier!”

 

“Samuel Wainscott.”  She whispered.

 

“What?”

 

She covered her face with her hands. “Samuel Wainscott!  He paid me off.  He gave me that money to leave Sammy.” 

 

Olivia’s forehead furrowed in confusion.  “You’re telling me that Sam Wainscott gave you a hundred and fifty thousand dollars to leave his daughter a month and half ago?  That doesn’t make any sense.”

 

“You think I don’t know that?”  Serra snapped.  “When that asshole he had following me showed up at the bookstore with the check, I thought it was some kind of trick.  I mean, why would he pay me to leave her when I already had?”  She rubbed her temples. “I figured it was just a bribe to keep me away from her; Sammy had been pretty adamant about me coming back when I first left.  Anyway, I was broke… I didn’t work while I was with her and there was no way I was going to make my tuition next year-“

 

“So you took it.”  Olivia’s lip curled in disdain.

 

Serra squared her shoulders and lifted her chin.  “I said I wasn’t a dog, detective, I didn’t say I was a fool!  Look, I know it wasn’t my best moment, but that man made us miserable every chance he got.  He belittled her and harassed me all because he thought that I had corrupted his little girl.  And no matter how many times Sammy told him that she had pursued me, he kept hanging onto the idea that I was the antichrist!  I deserved something for the hell he put us through.”  She shrugged.  “It isn’t like I broke the law.  He offered the money and I took it.  I wasn’t with Sammy anymore so it wasn’t even under false pretenses.”

 

“And that makes it ok?”  Olivia asked softly.

 

Serra stared at her for a long time before replying.  “No.  It doesn’t.  But it made it easier.”

 

The brunette sat back in her chair as she watched the young woman closely.  She knew in her gut that Serra was telling her the truth.  “Alright.” She stood up.  “You’re free to go.”

 

“What?”  Elliot and Serra both barked in disbelief. 

 

“What about the assault?”  Her partner demanded.

 

Olivia locked her eyes with Serra’s.  “I’m not pressing charges at this time.”  She pointed at her.  “But you stay local, and you let those friends of yours know that if we come looking for you and they start playing games, it’s going to land your ass right back behind bars.  Deal?”

 

Tears of relief flooded Serra’s eyes.  “Deal.”  She nodded eagerly.  “Detective?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“That woman I told you about… the one Sammy was involved with.  Who ever she is, she knows more about Sammy’s life over the last few months than I ever could.  She knows all of the dark stuff that I couldn’t stomach.  I have to live with the fact that I walked out on Sammy, probably when she needed me the most.  I couldn’t live knowing that her killer got away with it.  Find her… please.”

 

The detective looked at the young woman compassionately.  “I intend to.”

 

            *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *

 

Saturday 06:11 PM

 

Olivia looked up at the non-descript exterior of 1655 Park West and then down at the clothes she was wearing.  She doubted her skin tight Levi’s, corded Henley and black leather jacket would make much of an impression on the doorman, but if Zoey had been telling her the truth, she had an automatic in.

 

Stepping up to the door, she almost laughed when the uniformed man raised his eyebrows at her in surprise.  His hand came up automatically and he opened his mouth to speak.

 

She didn’t give him the chance; instead she pulled the keychain from her inside coat pocket.  She allowed the ring to slide down her middle finger so that the crystal dangled in the center of her palm, creating a blood red halo as it reflected the light from overhead.

 

His whole countenance changed in an instant, going from slightly disdainful to warmly respectful in a blink of an eye.  Smiling, he opened the door for her as he bowed slightly and said, “Have a pleasant evening, ma’am.”

 

When she got to the penthouse, she was surprised by how empty it was.  Glancing at her watch she realized that it was only a little after six, still pretty early as far as the bar circuit went.  Her eyes quickly scanned through the women present, taking note of everyone and everything.

 

“She’s not here.”

 

The familiar voice made her turn towards the bar where Zoey was polishing glasses, getting ready for the Saturday night rush.  “I know.”  She nodded as she slid onto a stool.  “That’s why I am.”

 

“Ouch!” The bartender grimaced.  “I take it you’re still on the outs with the beautiful Ms. Cabot?”

 

“Not for lack of trying.  I… talked to her this afternoon.”

 

“Talked?”  Zoey gave her a knowing wink.  “So how’d that go?”

 

“Pretty well at first.”  Olivia didn’t understand why she felt comfortable talking to the younger woman, but she was grateful for her presence and her ear.  “Then I got blindsided.”  She sighed.  “Maybe… maybe I’m just barking up the wrong lesbian, you know?  Like you said, she’s got the Big Three.  What have I got?  A tiny apartment, a city wage, and a job that takes up ninety percent of my life…  I mean look at me!  The doorman wasn’t even going to let me in here until I flashed that lucky charm you gave me.”

 

“I know some other thing’s you’ve got.”

 

“What?”

 

Zoey tossed the bar rag on the counter and leaned on her arms.  “You’ve got a killer smile, incredible eyes, and you look pretty damn good in a leather jacket.”  She grinned.  “And since Cabot knew you before you came in here and still planted that kiss on you?  I’d say there’s a whole lot more to you than just the way you look.”

 

Olivia blinked.  “Why would you think that?”

 

“Velvet gets best of high society, Olivia.”  She smirked.  “The lesbian cream that rises to the top.  Cabot’s been coming here for a while; I’ve seen people approach her and I’ve watched her shoot them down.  That woman has sent back enough drinks to stock the bar for a year.  But I have never seen her look at another woman the way she looked at you.  And I have also never seen her cross the bar to talk to anyone.  For her to do that, you would have to be very special indeed.”

 

The detective shrugged, turning to hide the faint blush that crept into her cheeks. 

 

“Sexy and shy!”  Zoey chuckled.  “Something tells me I’m meeting the real Olivia now.”

 

She grinned ruefully and held out her hand.  “Detective Olivia Benson, and yes, this is the real me.  I swear too much, I laugh too loud and I live in jeans and t-shirts six days out of the week.”  She glanced around.  “Guess I’m not what you would consider your regular clientele.”

 

“Ooo a cop!”  Zoey laughed.  “I wish.”  She placed a shot glass on the bar and filled it up with Jack, nudging it towards the detective when she didn’t reach for it immediately.  “Believe it or not, this isn’t exactly what I pictured when I decided to open this place.”

 

“What did you picture?”

 

“Something simple, a little more down to earth; but then my grandmother always said that buildings have souls of their own.  I may own it; I may have designed the layouts, but the spirit… that was always here.”

 

Olivia nodded, then Zoey’s words registered and she looked up in mild shock.  “You…own the building?  The whole building?”

 

She nodded.

 

“Who the hell was your grandmother?”

 

“Ivy Merrin.”

 

“Merrin, Merrin..”  The detective racked her brain trying to make a connection.  “Never heard of her.”

 

Zoey laughed.  “Why would you?  She was a secretary.”  Her eyes sparkled as she realized what the older woman meant.  “Ahhh!  You were trying to find the royalty in my family tree.  Let me save you the trouble, there isn’t any.  My father was a truck driver and my mother was a hair stylist.”

 

Olivia blinked.  “Then how…?”

 

“A royal line has to start somewhere right?”  The bartended refilled her empty glass.  “I was an art major in college.  Ran into some luck when I was bumming around Versailles my first year out.  I found a patron who was very… appreciative of my skills.  She taught me how to paint what would sell, among other things.  I came back from Europe with some serious coin in my pocket and the even more valuable skill of being able to remain friends with my exes.”

 

“I don’t understand.”

 

Zoey sighed.  “Well, when I got back, I met and fell in love with two very successful women.  First it was Natalia, plastic surgeon to New York’s elite, and then it was Francine, the investment banker with a heart. The relationships didn’t last, but the friendships did.  I showed them my business plans and they jumped at a chance to invest.  I own fifty two percent of this place, they split the difference.”

 

Olivia raised her eyebrows.  “Color me impressed!”  She downed the second shot.  “So, what do you do with the rest of the building?”

 

“The first three floors are office space; gay owned businesses mostly.  They get a good deal on rent; I get to do my part for the community and take a tax write off on the shortfall.”  She shrugged.  “The rest of the floors are cut up into studios, lofts and apartments.  Again, there are rent shortfalls but the income from the rest of the building more than makes up for it.”

 

“The rest…?”

 

“Yeah, the penthouse… and the basement.”

 

Olivia blinked.  “What’s in the basement?”

 

Zoey looked at her with a blatantly wicked expression on her face.  “Why… Hell, Detective.”

 

            *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *

 

The elevator opened into a dimly lit hallway. Sconces lined the walls on either side and red bulbs shining up at the ceiling gave the small space a surreal quality.  Olivia could see a staircase curving up out of sight at the other end.  “Where does that go?”  She pointed.

 

“Up to the street.”  Zoey grinned.  “But we’re going this way.”  She led the detective to a large ornate iron door to their left and Olivia had to stifle a laugh when the bartender produced an elaborate skeleton key to slip into the lock.

 

“You’re joking with that key right?”

 

The blonde shrugged.  “Appearances are everything.”  The door swung open into complete darkness and Olivia reached out, placing her hand within an inch of Zoey’s back, using the younger woman’s body heat to follow closely behind her.

 

There was the sound of some kind of switch being thrown and a series of lamps lining the ceiling started to glow dully as they began to heat up.  After a few moments, Olivia was able to see clearly enough to make out the large space around her.

 

It left her speechless.

 

The basement was the same size as the Penthouse, but set up in an entirely different layout and theme.  Where Velvet was all chic and ambience, gauzy curtains and light colors, the basement was decked out in deep blues and purples, the walls were painted black, the mood lighting supplied by the dozens of wrought iron fixtures strategically scattered throughout. 

 

To one side was the main room, which had a bar made of black and gray marble, surrounded by red leather-covered stools and snooker tables with black felt and crimson colored balls.  There was also a dance floor and a small raised stage that looked like it had been well used. 

 

To the other side was a hallway made up of thick midnight blue and black drapes that hung from the ceiling on iron rails.  The same types of drapes had been used to create small private alcoves along each side, complete with either couches or beds; the back wall of each alcove was exposed brick that had been fitted with numerous iron hooks at various heights.

 

“What the hell is this?”  Olivia breathed.

 

“This?” Zoey turned in a half circle, her arms held out.  “This is Suede.”

 

“Suede?”

 

“Like I said before, if Velvet is heaven, then Suede is hell.”  She shrugged.  “This is Natalia’s baby.  Her own private little dungeon.”

 

The detective’s eyes narrowed.  “What goes on down here, Zoey?”

 

The bartender held up her hands.  “Nothing like that, detective!”  She tsked as though she were offended.  “People can bring their own toys.  The can play at bondage and domination, they can spank, tickle, tease… whatever… but NO sex.  If the bouncers catch that going on, the client is eighty-sixed permanently.”

 

Olivia turned in a circle, her mouth opening and closing slowly.  “I don’t even know what to say.  How do you get insurance for this place?”

 

“We have strict safety policies in place.  Anyone who walks down that hallway has to have reservation and a signed waiver and declaration of intent on file.  We keep good records and so far, we’ve never had a problem.”

 

“So… when you said to stick to Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturdays it was because…”

 

“Because the rest of the week Velvet is dark and Suede is open.  We had them both open six days a week at first, until it turned out that a lot of our clientele wanted to use both clubs, but didn’t necessarily want to be seen jumping the gates.  So we gave Suede its own street entrance and didn’t allow traffic between the two anymore.  Except of course, when someone like Alex Cabot needs an out…”  She teased.  When she didn’t get a response she waved her hand in front of the brunette’s face.  “Olivia?”

 

The detective’s demeanor had changed completely.  “I can’t believe she didn’t tell me about this.”

 

“Who?  Alex?”

 

Olivia nodded sullenly.

 

“Look, Liv,” The bartender shook her head.  “Alex didn’t really know about this place.  Suede has a pretty specific crowd and it is by invitation only. The one time I approached her about it I got as far as the word ‘leather’ and the look on her face told me in no uncertain terms that drinks with the girls was all good, but anything else was not an option.  It’s not like Suede is a place to hang out and relax.”  She smirked.  “Well, not that kind of relax…”

 

“This is where Samantha Wainscott came to play, isn’t it Zoey?”

 

“Sammy? Yeah, she spent time here.”  She said cautiously.  “Why?”

 

Olivia felt like slapping herself.  She had been so busy spilling her guts to the younger woman that she had ignored one of the cardinal rules of investigation.

 

The bartender always knows something.

 

“Okay, let’s start over.”  She took a deep breath and pulled out her shield.  “I’m Detective Olivia Benson, and I need to ask you some questions in regards to the death of Samantha Wainscott.”

 

            *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *

 

Olivia sat quietly at the black marble bar, watching Zoey as she downed her fourth shot.  The bartender had called upstairs an hour earlier to tell her bar back, Melissa, to cover for her and then proceeded to crack open a very expensive bottle of tequila.  Olivia had matched her for the first three shots and then stopped, wanting to keep her head at least somewhat clear, even if she wasn’t technically on the clock.

 

“I can’t believe Sammy’s dead.”  Zoey whispered sadly.  “I mean, the girl had issues but she was a good person.”  She gave the detective a hard look.  “You know you could have told me you were investigating her death.  You could have trusted me.”

 

Olivia had the grace to flush slightly.  “I am sorry, Zoey.  But I have to follow standard procedure.  If it makes you feel any better I was going to talk to you about it tonight.  Serra gave us some information about a woman that Sammy was seeing, that she had met her at ‘the bar’. I just assumed the bar was Velvet.”

 

“Sammy never brought anyone to Velvet but Serra.  I know she got approached by a lot of other women…”

 

“This one would have had an affinity for black leather gloves.”

 

Zoey’s eyes met hers quickly and then slid away. 

 

“You know who I’m talking about.”

 

“I don’t know her name.  The only time I ever saw her upstairs was when she was on the hunt.  And her prey was usually Sammy. I know she spent a lot of time down here, but like I said Suede is Natalia’s domain.  What people choose to do is their own business, as long as they don’t try to do it to me.  And I don’t watch.”

 

Olivia nodded slowly.  “But you have records.  If they spent time in one of those alcoves together you would have their signed waivers and both their names on the reservation right?”

 

Zoey nodded slowly.

 

“Well?”  Olivia’s patience was wearing thin.  “Can I see the records?”

 

The bartender sighed.  “Yes… with a court order.”

 

 “What?” The detective’s jaw dropped.

 

“Look, Olivia, I like you, I do.  And if it were just my ass on the line, I would give you the files.  But our clients rely on our discretion and this is a business where all that matters is the client.  I can’t just hand out their private information because you asked me for it.  I won’t fight a court order, but you have to understand why I need you to get one.”

 

“Fine.”  Olivia muttered under her breath.  “You do realize what I have to do to get it right?”

 

The spark returned to Zoey’s eyes for the first time since she learned of Samantha’s death.  “Let me guess… you have to ‘talk’ to Alexandra Cabot again?”  She snickered.  “Is that such a bad thing?”

 

The detective glared at her.

 

“Ooookay!”  She poured them both another shot.  “In that case, I say we stay right here until we figure out a plan to get you back into that woman’s good graces.”

 

Olivia picked up her shot glass and knocked it back.  “I don’t think you have enough tequila for that.”

 

Zoey slapped the shot glasses aside, setting two tumblers in their place on the bar.  “Let’s test that theory, shall we?”

 

            *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *          

 

Oh my god…

 

Olivia groaned loudly as she cracked her eyes open, only to quickly slam them shut again when the light from the open window made her brain feel like it was three sizes too big for her skull.

 

Grabbing a pillow from the other side of the bed, she slammed it down on her face; willing to risk suffocation if it meant blocking out the sun.  After a few moments, the pain receded slightly and she was able to think again.

 

Unfortunately, the first thought that popped into her head was that the pillow on her face smelled like someone else’s hair, which caused her to pull it away quickly, letting the sunlight back in.

 

Sitting up, she rubbed her temples firmly with her fingertips as she looked around the room.

 

Queen sized bed, dresser, end tables, and a door leading to the bathroom… yep, it was a bedroom. 

 

Too bad it wasn’t hers.

 

She pulled the blanket away and looked down at herself.  T-shirt but no bra, briefs but no jeans… Damn, that could mean anything!

 

“Good morning beautiful!”

 

Olivia turned towards the voice to find Zoey standing in the doorway holding a glass.  Her hair was tousled, her body covered by an oversized t-shirt that left far too little to the imagination.  “Shit.”  She grumbled.

 

Zoey laughed.  “Well, aren’t you a little fucking ray of sunshine?” 

 

“Sorry.”  The detective mumbled.  Then she stared at the blonde suspiciously.  “Why the hell do you look so good? You drank more than I did!”

 

She climbed onto the bed next to Olivia and held out the glass.  It was filled with a thick looking sludge that seemed to glow a bright orange-green color.  “I call it The Bitch That Bit Ya.  It’s kind of like ‘the hair o’ the dog’ times ten.”

 

Olivia leaned forward and sniffed the contents of the glass, pulling her head away quickly as her nostrils began to burn.  “What the hell is in that?”

 

Zoey patted her gently on the leg. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.  I suggest plugging your nose, closing your eyes, and downing it in one big gulp.”

 

“I don’t think so…”  She tried to push the glass away from her.

 

“So you want to go see Alex looking like ten pounds of wet dog shit and feeling like a bucket of fuck?”

 

Olivia blinked.  With a sheepish look, she took the offered glass and brought it to her lips.

 

“No, really, close your eyes.”  Zoey smirked. “Otherwise the color will make you dizzy.”

 

The detective did as she was told.  The liquid had the consistency of hot fudge and a flavor she would be eternally grateful that she had no frame of reference for.  She was barely able to hang on to her gag reflex by using every trick she had ever employed at a crime scene. 

 

When she was finally done and fairly certain that the vile concoction wasn’t going to reappear, she handed the glass back to Zoey, arching one eyebrow curiously when the bartender leaned over the side of the bed and dropped it into the trash can.

 

“I’ve never been able to get the smell out of the glass.”  Zoey smirked.

 

“Wonderful.”  She ran her tongue over her teeth.  “How long will it take to get it out of my mouth?”

 

The younger woman smiled, leaning in so close that Olivia could feel her breath against her lips.  “Do you want to find out?”

 

The brunette looked down at the hand still lying casually on her leg, swallowing when long, supple fingers started stroking softly up the inside of her thigh.  “Uh…”  She pulled herself up against the headboard.  “What the hell happened last night?”

 

Zoey followed her, keeping the distance between their bodies to a minimum.  “You mean you don’t remember?”

 

“No… “She grabbed the hand that had jumped up to her belly.  “Zoey!  Look, you’re a nice girl and all, but whatever happened… I-“

 

“Passed out.”  The bartender finished for her, before kissing her sweetly on the lips.

 

“Passed out?”

 

“Yup!”  Zoey grinned.  “We’re in my crash pad, one floor down from Velvet.  I had to have two of the bouncers help me get you up here.  You should have told me you don’t do well with tequila.”

 

“So…  Nothing happened?”

 

“Well, you did spoon me all night.  But I thought that was kind of sweet.”  She laughed at the flush that colored the older woman’s face.  “Other than that, you were a perfect gentleman; which is a good thing, because you’re really not my type.  I like my women a bit less perfect and a lot more needy.”  She patted her on the shoulder.  “Besides, I don’t mess with women in love…”

 

“Whoa!”  Olivia held her hand up to stop the snickering blonde.  “Who said I was in love?”

 

Zoey rolled her eyes. “Like you need to say it, Detective Obvious?  Or would that be…Detective Oblivious?”  She laughed and jumped away when Olivia lunged at her.  “Don’t even try it!  I’m younger and quicker.  Now get dressed.  You have to go see your woman!”

 

 

 

Chapter Seven:  Playing With Fire

Sunday 09:27 AM

 

“One-Six, Tutuola.” 

 

“Hey Fin.”

 

The detective sat back in his chair.  “Yo, Liv.  What’s up?”

 

“Where’s Elliot?  I tried his desk but I got the box.”

 

“He called earlier.  Kathy’s sick so he’s Mr. Moms today.  I told him I’d cover since we’re pretty much just spinning our wheels at this point.”

 

“Maybe not.”  Olivia pulled a couple of bills out of her pocket and handed them to the cabbie as she climbed out of the taxi.  “I’ve got a possible lead on Samantha’s mystery guest the night of her murder.  Apparently she was a regular at a leather bar with this woman every week.  The bar owner has pretty tight records.  They should give us a name.”

 

“Why do I feel like there’s a big ‘but’ coming on?”

 

“Because there always is?  The owner wants a CO for the records.  I’m on my way to Cabot to see if I can get her to work her magic for us.”

 

“On a Sunday?”  He snorted.  “Better hope your shit’s wired tight.”

 

“Always.”  She assured him.  “How’s Morales doing with Samantha’s computer?”

 

“Not too good.  Apparently Little Miss Sunshine used it for her side gig with Preston Charities.  The whole thing’s encrypted so it’s taking him forever to punch his way through.  I’ll stay on top of it though.”

 

“Call me if anything develops?”

 

“You know it.  Later.” 

 

Olivia listened as the line went dead.  She held the phone to her ear for a few more seconds and then snapped it shut, sighing as she looked up at Alex’s building.

 

This was so going to suck.

 

 

            *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *

 

Alex Cabot pulled open the drapes on her penthouse windows, squinting as bright sunlight streamed into her living room.  Carrying her glass of orange juice over to the couch, she dropped into it with a deep sigh.  There had to be some kind of evil force in the universe ensuring that whenever she was sullen, moody, and/or bitchy, the day outside had to be as beautiful as possible, with brilliant blue skies and white fluffy clouds.

 

There was just something so utterly depressing about spending a gorgeous Sunday afternoon alone, not that she wasn’t used to it; but the fact that this one could have been different made it that much harder to bear.  With an ease that was more than slightly disturbing, her mind pieced together an image of Olivia.  The detective had her head back, a look off intense pleasure suffusing her features as her bare chest rose and fell quickly beneath a light coating of sweat.

 

Swallowing heavily, she raised the glass to her lips, grimacing at the acidic taste.  For a moment, she considered adding a shot of vodka, but as usual propriety won out.  Drinking at nine thirty in the morning was not an activity an emotionally stable, upwardly mobile professional indulged in.

 

And that was the driving force in her life, right?  Being upwardly mobile?

 

“What the hell is happening to me?” She mumbled to herself.  It had always been about the job, about proving herself, about getting where she wanted to be without letting anything get in the way.  Her heart was never something that could be safely factored into that equation. 

 

So she left it out, along with everything that came with it.

 

Sure she would see her old college friends with their full and happy lives, their two point four kids and the house in the suburbs.  And late at night, when she was alone and she let herself think about it, she would admit that there was something appealing about the idea, about having someone in her life to share her accomplishments with. 

 

But love was something she had never learned to balance.  That made it dangerous.  Too dangerous.

 

And in the grand scheme of things, what did love really bring to the table anyway?  You couldn’t eat it, it wouldn’t pay the bills and it wouldn’t keep her warm at night.

 

Her breath caught as several images ran through her mind, each of them depicting a different way that Olivia could successfully raise her temperature.

 

Okay, so that was a bad example.

 

She was attempting to recover from her mental slip when the sound of her door buzzer cut through her internal monologue.  “What the hell?”  She couldn’t imagine anyone who would be brave enough to ring her bell before noon on the one day of the week she took for herself.

 

Then again, a good argument was exactly what she needed to burn off some of the tension running through her body.  Barring the alternative of course, which would have been preferable…

 

Alex’s thought’s ground to halt as her front door swung open to reveal Olivia, standing in her entryway with her hands stuffed in her pockets and a sheepish look on her face.

 

For a moment, it was all the ADA could do to keep her hands from tangling into the detective’s short mop of brown hair and using it to tug her gently through the door and into her arms.

 

Sucking in a deep breath, she crossed her arms to hide the fact that her hands were shaking and stared down at the floor.  “What are you doing here, Olivia?”

 

“I need to talk to you.”  The detective stepped inside, pushing the door shut behind her.  When Alex didn’t move, she carefully stepped around her and settled herself against the back of the couch.

 

The blonde shrugged.  “What is there to say?”

 

Olivia rolled her eyes slightly.  “Oh I have plenty to say to you, but right now would probably not be the best time to say it!”  She snapped.  “I’m here about the case.”

 

Alex’s cheeks flamed bright red and she drew the robe she was wearing more tightly around herself, double checking the knot.  She was suddenly all too aware that she was naked beneath it; the fabric teasing her skin, especially where it rubbed against her nipples which had hardened in response to the passion in Olivia’s voice.  “What about it?”

 

“I… We need a court order for Zoey Merrin’s client list.”

 

Alex’s jaw dropped slightly.  “Zoey…?”

 

Olivia nodded.  “Apparently Zoey and her two silent partners have been running a leather club called Suede in Velvet’s basement.  We have good reason to believe that those records will provide the name of the woman Samantha spent her last night with.”

 

“And those reasons are?”

“Two separate witnesses have described an older woman, dark hair, gray-blue eyes, with a penchant for wearing black leather driving gloves.  Forensics found a piece of black leather embedded in the handle of one of the paddles collected at the crime scene.”

 

Alex arched one eyebrow.  “Who are these witnesses?”

 

“Zoey Merrin for one.”

 

“And the other?”

 

Olivia sighed.  “Serra Tate.”

 

The lawyer dropped her head as she laughed.  “Serra Tate?  Who up until now was your prime suspect?”

 

“She was never my prime suspect.”  The detective shook her head.  “She was a person of interest at one point but her alibi is solid.  Our search of her financial records revealed that Samuel Wainscott paid her a hundred and fifty thousand dollars to leave his daughter.  That was the secret she was hiding.”  She was gratified to see the barely hidden shock on the ADA’s face.

 

Alex tried to absorb this new information. “And you think her willingness to be bribed increases her credibility as a witness?”

 

Olivia frowned.  “She had a moment of weakness.  She and Sammy were already separated and she talked herself into believing she deserved some kind of compensation for what she went through.  Not the most upstanding behavior but understandable all things considered.  Regardless, Zoey Merrin is a credible witness and she is willing to help.”

 

“You know the CO won’t hold up.  We’ll never be able to introduce the client records in court based on the evidence you have now.”

 

“I don’t need the records to be admissible.  I just need the name!”

 

Alex studied her for a moment.  “And Zoey won’t fight us on this?”

 

“No.  She just wants the ink.”

 

“All right.”  The blonde shrugged in resignation as she picked up her cell phone and dialed her assistant.  “Rebecca?  I need paper and I need it ASAP.” 

 

Olivia listened with a small smile on her face as the ADA went to work.  Alex was a beautiful woman, but there was something about the power she exuded when she was doing her job that made her nearly irresistible.  Tearing her eyes away, the detective looked out the window.

 

“No, you go to Judge Kramer.  Tell him Alexandra Cabot is calling in that favor. If he plays dumb, tell him you can spell it out for him but the letters you would use will land his son in a very public rehab facility for the next six months and community service for a year.  Got that?  Good, call me back as soon as you have it.”  She snapped her phone shut, absent mindedly slipping it into the pocket of her robe before she met Olivia’s expectant look.  “Rebecca’s good.  She’ll get it.  I’d say an hour at the most.”

 

The detective glanced at her watch, then around the room.  “I should probably head to the precinct then, wait for the CO there-“

 

“Olivia.”

 

Her softly whispered name brought her up short, cutting off her nervous rambling and drawing her gaze to the lawyers face.

 

“I… I owe you an apology.”  The blonde continued her voice quiet.  “What I did… What I said… it must have made you feel-“

 

“Like an easy lay?”

 

Alex laughed sarcastically as she ran her fingers through her hair.  “This is anything but easy for me, Liv.”

 

“Oh and I guess you think it’s a cake walk for me?”

 

“No!”  Alex felt her temper rising.  “If you’d just let me finish what I was going to say-“

 

“Why?”  Olivia cut her off again.  “So you can tell me how it didn’t mean anything?  That it was just sex?  Thanks, but no thanks, Alex.  I already feel shitty enough.”  She turned and headed for the door. 

 

“God damn it, Liv!”  She grabbed the detective by the arm and pulled her back. “It isn’t that…  I don’t…”  Frustrated, the blonde’s voice rose higher.  “I just don’t have room for this in my life right now!”

“Room?”  Olivia’s eyebrows knitted together.  “Room for what?  For this?”  She slid her hand around the back of Alex’s neck, pulling her forward forcefully until their mouths met in a violent clash of lips and teeth.  She felt a brief flash of resistance in the slim body she held against her own, but then it was gone and Alex’s arms were around her back, her thigh between her legs. The blonde growled deep in her chest as her lips parted to allow Olivia’s tongue inside while her hands yanked the leather jacket down off her arms.

 

When the detective felt cool palms slide around her stomach, she trembled violently.  Alarms went off inside her head and she tried to pull back, only to feel her mouth go dry as Alex untied the belt of her robe.  She felt her heart rate increase wildly as unbelievably smooth, pale skin was displayed before her.  When she didn’t move, Alex took her hands and pulled them to her breasts.

 

“Alex…”  A soft groan tore itself from Olivia’s lips as she felt the dusky peaks of the blonde’s breasts grow hard beneath her touch.  Then all of her trepidations melted away as Alex’s fingers swiftly unbuttoned her jeans and slid inside to caress her lower belly.  With a fierce groan, she pressed herself into the lawyer, pushing her backwards towards the dinner table behind them. 

 

It wasn’t ideal, but it would do.

 

Without pausing, Olivia pushed Alex onto her back before shimmying out of her jeans and briefs.  Climbing onto the table, she straddled her hips as Alex unbuttoned her shirt and tossed it aside, followed quickly by her bra.  Completely nude, Olivia lowered herself until the entire length of her torso was pressing against the younger woman’s body, the course hair between their legs tangling sweetly together.  Her lips descended on Alex’s with a hunger that was almost frightening as she dovetailed their legs together, moaning in satisfaction when the blonde brought her knee up, pressing her thigh into the growing wetness between the detectives legs.  She whimpered when the hands caressing her body disappeared, until she realized that Alex was simply pulling them out of her robe, leaving them both completely naked on top of the think silk.  For a moment, she was wondered which was softer, the expensive fabric or the incredible skin pressed against her body, then the blonde’s hands slid down to cup her ass and all rational thought fled.

 

Alex pulled her lips back in a feral grin as Olivia attacked her neck with her teeth.  Her hands tightened on the older woman’s ass, using her grip to pull the strong body more tightly against her, moaning at the wet warmth that slid along the length of her thigh.  “Liv…”  She whispered.  “I need your hands on me… please…”

 

The plea tore through Olivia’s body like a bullet, setting her blood on fire and her pulse racing.   She pulled her hands from where they had been buried in soft blond hair, pulling back slightly so that she could cup the small perfect breasts offered up to her.  Unable to stop herself, she devoured Alex’s lips hungrily.  Never in her life had she felt so out of control, so at the mercy of her emotions.  And more frightening than that, was that she couldn’t have cared less.

 

Alex arched her back as Olivia’s left hand trailed down her stomach.  For a moment, it stopped to play in the dark blond hair between her legs and she whimpered her frustration, earning a soft grunt from the woman on top of her.  When the detective’s fingers finally slipped into the wetness between her thighs, Alex slammed back against the table, her head falling to the side to allow the brunette access to her throat again.

 

Olivia stroked softly at first, enjoying the silky feel of the wet skin her fingers traveled through as her teeth raised angry red marks down Alex’s neck.  When the tips finally traveled over the small bundle of nerves at the top of the blonde’s folds, she felt the body beneath her begin to shake.

 

“Livia…”

 

That one breathless word was all the permission she needed.  With one fluid movement, she slid her hand down and inside, burying her fingers deeply as hot velvet closed around them.  “Jesus…”  She whispered as ripples of pleasure wound through her own body, shocking her.

 

Alex was beyond words.  The fingers within her curved, moving almost roughly against the spot deep inside of her that Olivia seemed to be able to find without error.  Her body writhed uncontrollably, pressing up into the detective, her thigh grinding into sensitive flesh.  The cries of pleasure this earned her were echoed by her own when Olivia took a hardened nipple between her lips, suckling it with her tongue before closing her teeth on it.

 

“Oh, Jesus!”  Alex tangled one hand into the short brown locks, pulling them sharply as she held Olivia’s mouth against her. 

 

The brunette pushed down hard with her hips, the pleasure running through her increasing as the younger woman’s cries resonated in her chest.  She used her own thigh to push herself deeper inside of the blonde, her fingertips pressing against the slick spot that made Alex tremble violently.

 

“Liv…oh my god…”  Alex’s fingers dug into the muscles of Olivia’s back, leaving angry red trails as she slid them down to cup her ass again, her orgasm growing strong within her.  Using all her strength, she pulled the older woman against her, desperately wanting to feel her come at the same time. 

 

Olivia closed her eyes, losing herself in the pleasure building inside of her and the heat of the woman wrapped around her fingers.  When she finally went over the edge, it was amplified by the feeling of Alex’s body tightening beneath her and the blonde’s cries echoing in her ears.

 

“Oh my god, Olivia….!”

 

Their bodies strained against each other for several long moments as both of them were caught in the grip of their release, then they collapsed together in a tangle of sweat covered limbs and panting breaths.

 

“Oh my god, Olivia.”  Alex whispered again, her lips pressed against the hot skin beneath the older woman’s left ear.

 

“While I appreciate the sentiment, you don’t have to start worshipping me quite yet.”  Olivia grinned and flipped over, settling onto her back before pulling the blonde down on top of her. A soft laugh escaped as her spine protested the cool hardness beneath it.  “We’re going to have to try this in a bed sometime.” 

 

Alex felt her chest tighten as a familiar rush of panic filled her. Silently, she untangled herself from the older woman’s embrace and sat up.

 

“Alex?”

 

She could hear the concern in Olivia’s voice but the sound of her own heart pounding in her ears drowned it out.  Grabbing the brunette’s shirt, she slid it on.

 

“Oh you have got to be kidding me!”  The detective jumped up.  She positioned herself between the lawyer’s legs, taking her chin in her hand, forcing her to meet her eyes.  “You can’t keep doing this Alex!  You can’t sleep with me and then shut me out like some trick you picked up at a bar!  I deserve better than that!”

 

The blonde’s eyes filled with tears, her voice a broken whisper.  “I know.”

 

“Then why?”

 

Alex frowned sadly, her shoulders shaking as the older woman took her in her arms.  She wanted to explain, but didn’t even know where to begin.  Sighing, she laid her head on Olivia’s shoulder.  “I guess I’m just a lost cause”

 

Olivia brought her hands up to gently cup the blonde’s face. “If there’s one thing you should know about me by now, it’s that lost causes are a specialty of mine.”  She kissed her gently.  “I won’t give up on you.”

 

Alex looked up at her, and expression of wonder on her face.  “You won’t?”

 

“Never.” She placed a series of soft kisses on her lips before trailing across her cheek to her ear, where she whispered, “I want this.  I want you.  I have for longer than you would believe.  I’ll give you whatever time and space you need to figure it out.”

 

Alex felt her eyes overflow with fresh tears.  Taking a deep breath, she gripped the older woman’s hands tightly and looked directly into her eyes.  “Olivia-“

 

The ringing of her cell phone cut off anything else that she might have said.  Growling in frustration, Alex slid off the table and searched through the clothes on the floor until she found it.   “Cabot!”  She barked.  Her expression and voice softened immediately when she heard her assistant on the other end.  “Rebecca, I’m sorry.  You just caught me in the middle of something.  No, it’s ok.  Did you get a hold of Kramer?  You did?  And?”  She glanced at Olivia, nodding at the questioning look the brunette was throwing at her.  She arched one eyebrow, watching in amusement as the older woman pulled on her briefs, followed by her tight black jeans.  When Olivia sat down on the floor to slide on her boots, it was all Alex could do not to laugh out loud.  There was just something absurd about the normally stoic detective sitting topless on her floor while she tied the laces on a pair of police issue tactical boots. 

 

And something completely alluring about the skin that stretched tautly across her abdomen when she rose.

 

Shaking her head, she brought her attention back to the conversation.  “What? Oh, I need you to take it over to the one-six.  No not Benson.”

 

At the mention of her name, the brunette froze, her bra hanging limply from her fingertips.  Her lips formed a perfect ‘o’ of surprise when Alex reached out and took it from her, tossing it onto the couch.

 

“Detective Benson is going to be occupied for the rest of the day.  I believe Tutuola is catching at the precinct.  All right, Rebecca, thank you.”  She snapped her phone shut, dropping it onto the table before pressing Olivia up against the back of the couch.  Her fingers slid over the brunette’s shoulders, her nails scratching lightly as she dragged them down her arms.  “Do you need to call someone Detective Benson?”  She leaned in, her teeth nibbling on the sensitive patch of skin just below Olivia’s left ear.  “I suggest you do it now, because in ten minutes…”  She kissed her lightly, allowing her tongue to flick into the older woman’s mouth.  “In ten minutes your lips will be otherwise occupied.”

 

Olivia shivered at everything implied by Alex’s honeyed tone.  She grabbed up her cell phone, dialing the precinct’s number quickly.

 

“One-six, Tutuola.”

 

“Hey, Fin…gahhh…”  Olivia’s voice trailed off as the lawyer’s teeth closed on her earlobe.

 

“Liv?  That you?”

 

“Uh…hmmm… yeah.”  She turned her head to the side, moving her ear out of reach only to expose the line of her neck to the blonde’s questing lips.  “Oh…”

 

Fin’s eyebrows knitted together.  He glanced up as his partner wandered back into the precinct with a bag of sandwiches from the corner deli.  Munch raised his chin in question and Fin mouthed the word ‘Olivia’.  “Everything cool, Liv?”

 

“What?  Oh yeah…definitely.”  There was a pause.  “Listen, I need you…  I need you to take care of something…”

 

The detective listened carefully, jotting down notes on his pad as he did so. 

 

Munch watched curiously as his partner’s pen stalled after every couple of words.  When Fin finally hung up the phone, a small smile played at the corners of his mouth.  “What’s up?”

 

“We got a CO coming over from Cabot.  Benson wants us to move on it as soon as it gets here.”

 

John blinked.  “What’s so amusing about that?”

 

“It ain’t what she said,” Fin laughed.  “It’s how she said it.”

 

“And how was that?”

“In a language your old ass wouldn’t even remember!”

 

 

*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *

 

Monday 12:37AM

 

Something was dragging Olivia back from the edges of a particularly pleasant dream. 

 

At first it only registered as a light pressure; something warm and soft being pressed against her lips.  Then she felt the softness begin to move, tracing around her mouth, leaving a trail of wetness behind.  For a brief moment, she was confused, but even through her sleep induced haze, Olivia recognized the scent that went along with that wetness.  It invaded her senses, making her nostrils flair as her lips parted in a soft moan.  She reached out with her tongue, wrapping it around the long, smooth finger that was touching her gently, pulling it into her mouth. 

 

A groan worked its way up from Olivia’s chest as she sucked hard, her arms moving to wrap tightly around the body next to her.  Deep auburn eyes blinked open and the sleepiness in them darkened into something different altogether as they met the crystal blue gaze of her lover.

 

Alex smiled wickedly as she pulled her finger from the brunette’s mouth.  “Good morning.”  Her voice was low and husky. 

 

Olivia closed the space between them, throwing her leg over the blonde’s hip, using it to tug the luscious body tightly against her.  “What was that, counselor?”

 

“Exhibit A.”  Alex whispered, her breathing becoming ragged as the detective’s proximity wreaked the same havoc on her as it had the day before. 

 

“Oh…So you were presenting evidence?”  Olivia raised her eyebrows.  She ran her hand over a taut stomach, loving the way it quivered beneath her fingers. “Am I being accused of a crime?”

 

The blonde nodded, unable to speak as her body arched into the contact.

 

Olivia’s laughter died as soft skin was pressed tightly against the entire length of her body causing a flood of moisture between her legs.  She swallowed.  “Any other evidence you’d like to produce, counselor?”

 

“You’re the detective…“  Alex reached down with one hand, pulling Olivia’s thigh roughly between her own as she growled into her ear. “Find it yourself...”

 

 

*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *          

 

Monday 6:09AM

 

Olivia rolled over onto her back, her hand shooting out to slap at the alarm clock next to the bed, only to feel it come down hard on the table top.  Shaking her stinging fingers, she sat up, realizing that this wasn’t her bed and the alarm clock was actually on the other side. 

 

She looked down at the long form beside her, her heart pounding heavily in her chest as a bright smile graced her lips.

 

Alex was sleeping peacefully on her stomach, all of her back and most of one ass cheek exposed to the cool morning air by covers they had tossed aside the night before.  Blond hair was fanned out across her pillow and she had one hand hidden beneath it while the other lay next to her face.  She looked so incredibly young, so incredibly innocent with all of her intellect hidden away behind eyelids tipped with soft golden lashes that for a moment Olivia actually felt a twinge of guilt twist in her chest.  Then she thought about the things they had been doing together and the twinge moved decidedly lower.

 

Where their first encounter had been fevered; wild with an almost desperate passion, the second had been slow and achingly sweet.  They had spent all of Sunday in bed, with a brief respite to order Chinese food from a little place up the street, managing to make it through the egg rolls before deciding that there were more important things than food. 

 

Closing her eyes, Olivia pictured Alex beneath her as her back arched, the blonde’s long fingers digging into the muscles of her back.  She felt her cheeks flush as a liquid heat coursed through her veins, leaving her trembling and filled with a desire so strong that it took her breath away.

 

Smiling at her own libido, she gently leaned across her sleeping lover and turned off the alarm clock.  As she was moving back to her side of the bed, Alex rolled over beneath her, grabbing her by the shoulders to pull her down into a deep, passionate kiss.

 

The blonde released her several long minutes later, a deliciously wicked smile on her lips.  “Good morning.”

 

Olivia, her head still spinning, could only smile in response.

 

Alex laughed.  “I take it that means you enjoyed last night?”

 

“Last night, yesterday afternoon… yesterday morning…”  The detective lowered her body until she completely covered the younger woman.  “I more than enjoyed it, counselor.  I loved it.”

 

Alex blinked.  She swallowed quickly before giving the brunette another quick kiss.  “We need to get up.”

 

“I know.”  Olivia groaned.  “But I don’t want to.”

 

Alex traced the older woman’s jaw with her fingertips.  “I don’t either.” She whispered.  “Nothing would make me happier than to stay right here with you for… the rest of the day.”  She sighed then shook her head to clear it.  “But, with any luck you have a suspect to interrogate and I’m due in court in ninety minutes.”

 

“You’re right.  I just need one more…”  Olivia closed the space between them and kissed her gently, trying to convey everything that the last twenty four hours had meant to her.  When Alex parted her lips, she slipped her tongue inside and played gently for a moment before tearing herself away.  “Okay!” She dragged herself out of bed.  “Can I use the shower first?  I’m due at the precinct in forty-five minutes.”

 

Alex nodded and watched her walk away, her stomach tightening as she took in the view.  Closing her eyes, she breathed in deeply, reveling in the scent that permeated the room around her.

 

“Oh my god!” 

 

The blonde grinned.  “Something wrong?”

 

“Oh, you did not do this to me!”

 

She rose gracefully, pulling a robe around her body before stepping into the bathroom doorway where she leaned up against the frame, an innocent look plastered on her face.  “Whatever could you mean?”

 

Olivia turned to stare at her accusingly as she pointed to the large red blotch on the side of her neck.  “What is this?”

 

Alex turned, grabbing her glasses off the dresser.  She settled them lightly on the tip of her nose as she leaned in for a closer look.  “I believe that is what occurs when excessive suction is created between lips and skin.”  She looked up at the detective over the top of her frames.

 

Olivia swallowed, feeling moisture flood the juncture between her legs for the third time that morning.  Moving closer, she slid her hands inside Alex’s robe, letting her fingers trail across the smooth skin of her abdomen.  “And how did it get there?”

 

“Well,” The blonde tugged the knot free, allowing the garment to fall open so that she could feel Olivia’s skin pressing tightly against her own.  “In my ‘expert opinion’?  I would have to say that the perpetrator was ordered to put it there.”

 

“Objection, Counselor.  Hearsay.”  She kissed Alex, nibbling lightly on her lower lip.

 

“Overruled.”  She could hear the laughter in the ADA’s voice.  “The witness was an active participant in the aforementioned conversation.”

 

“I maintain that the witness was not in full possession of her mental faculties at the time.”

 

Alex leaned back, her lips quirking adorably as she smirked at Olivia.  “Actually, from the lack of fine motor control and the inability to speak, I would posit that you were the one not in possession of your full mental faculties at the time in question.”

 

“There should be laws against this type of cross examination.”  Olivia’s lips trailed down the blonde’s neck to bite lightly at her pulse point, enjoying the tight strum of excitement that was threading through her body.

 

“Sorry, detective.  Spousal privilege won’t save you until you marry me.”

 

Olivia froze, feeling Alex’s body immediately stiffen with tension as well.  Slowly, she extricated herself.  For a moment, they merely looked at each other.  Then Alex kissed her lightly on the lips.  “Get ready for work.”  She whispered.

 

“Right!”  Olivia nodded more vigorously than she intended to, feeling relief flood though her as the tense moment passed.  Neither of them had given voice to any feelings other than their shared desire.  The detective knew what she felt ran deeper than that.  Just how deep was something she was no where near ready to begin discussing.

 

“Do you have a shirt I can borrow?”

 

Alex’s eyes focused on her chest.  Smirking, she turned and left the bathroom.  She returned a few moments later, the requested garment in hand. 

 

Olivia held it up by its shoulders, rolling her eyes when she realized it was a t-shirt. “I was hoping for something more like a turtleneck.” At least it wasn’t pink.

 

Alex shrugged; the innocent look firmly back on her face.  “Guess they’re all in the wash.”

 

“Right.”  The brunette scowled.  “You know I’ll never live this down.”

 

The ADA took Olivia’s face between her hands, kissing her sweetly before running her fingers over the sore spot just above the detective’s jugular.  “Well, let me see what I can do…”

 

 

            *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *

 

Chapter Eight – The Wolf With The Red Roses

Monday  7:06 AM

 

Elliot looked up as his partner entered the squad room, his eyes immediately going to the pale beige patch that ran along the side of her neck.  He watched her expectantly as she hung up her jacket, got herself a cup of coffee and finally seated herself at her desk. 

 

Olivia felt Elliot watching her and when he didn’t speak she raised her eyebrows at him in exasperation.  “What?”

 

“Problems shaving?”

 

She flushed as the corners of her mouth tugged upwards into a rueful grin.  “Fuck you, Stabler.”

 

“No thanks.”  He smirked.  “I’m a happily married man.”

 

“And if it weren’t for the last word in that statement, you wouldn’t be.”

 

Elliot laughed at the exaggerated leer she shot across the desk at him.  Her complete lack of sexual interest in him had been rough on his ego at first but he had to admit it made them much better partners.  Besides, her being into women gave him so much more to tease her about.  He stood up and walked around his desk, leaning down on hers with one hand.  “So… what’s got you in such a good mood?”

 

“Who says I’m in a good mood?”

 

“Hey, I got a wife.  I know what it looks like when a woman’s gettin’ some.”

 

“How could you?  You were gone before I went to see Kathy this morning.”

 

“Aw!”  Elliot clutched his chest and staggered slightly.  “That was brutal, Liv!  Is that how it’s gonna be today?”

 

She shrugged.  “Hey, you mess with the bull…”

 

Before she knew what was happening, Elliot reached out and snatched the band-aid from her neck.  “And what?  She gets horny?”  He laughed as he held the bandage just out of her reach, staring at the dark red splotch against her normally flawless olive skin.  “I amend my statement.  Forget the razor…you must have tangled with a Hoover!  Look at the size of that thing!”  He snorted as she grabbed the bandage and re-affixed it to her neck.  “Yeah, like that helps!”  He went back to his chair, putting his feet up on the desk as he enjoyed watching her squirm.  “You know, with a bruise like that you could file charges.  How would we write up a lesbian attack?  Assault with batteries?  Would it even be a violation of the ‘penal’ code?”

 

Olivia bit her lip to keep from laughing.  “You’re an idiot.”

 

Elliot snapped his fingers. “I know!” He reached for his phone, picking up the receiver as he pretended to dial.  “Let’s ask Cabot!”

 

Olivia’s grin vanished and Elliot watched in shock as she blushed to the roots of her hair, her eyes sliding away from him to focus on the file that was lying open on her desk.

 

He slowly dropped the receiver back onto its cradle, his eyes growing steadily wider as he stared at her.  “You can’t be serious!”  A very pleasant mental picture formed in the back of his mind, causing his jaw to drop.  “Liv?”

 

“What?”

 

He lowered his voice.  “Cabot??  Are you serious?”

 

With a deep sigh, Olivia nodded.

 

“Oh my god.”  He felt like his brain was going to explode.  “I mean, I know I tease you about her but, outstanding whack off material aside, do you know what you’re getting yourself into?”

 

The brunette scrunched up her face in disgust.  “Okay first off, you’re a pig. Secondly, yes I do.”

 

“Do you?”  He leaned forward, his concern for her written plainly on his face.  “We’re talking about Alexandra Cabot here.  The Ice Maiden?  The woman who told a perp she planned on being the one to answer the Governor’s phone when the call came through to stay his execution?  That woman has political aspirations that don’t exactly gel with the lesbian lifestyle. You really think you know what you’re doing?”

 

Olivia shrugged nonchalantly, trying to hide the depth of emotion she felt for the lawyer.  “It’s not like that, Elliot.”

 

“Not like what, Olivia?”

 

“Why do I have to be a detective involved with an ADA?  Why can’t we just be two people trying each other on for size?  Why does it have to mean everything?  Jeez Stabler, can’t you separate?”

 

His eyebrows rose skeptically.  “Because I know you, Liv.  For god’s sake we breathe the same air every day of the friggin’ week.  I know that look.  And regardless of what this means to Cabot, I know it already means a hell of a lot to you.”

 

She shook her head but didn’t answer.

 

Sighing, her partner ran his hand over his face.  Jesus, could shit get anymore complicated?  “Look, just… tell me you haven’t fallen head over heels for her?  Tell me you’ve been able to hang on to at least a little of that Benson reserve?”

 

Olivia tried to muster a cocky grin but an image of Alex naked and sleep tousled popped into her head and she ended up with something that looked like a cross between extremely satisfied and hopelessly love sick.

 

Elliot groaned and leaned back in his chair.  He studied her for a few moments.  “So this is it huh?  The real deal?”

 

“I dunno….” She shrugged but the soft smile on her face spoke volumes.  “I think so.”

 

“You know,” He smirked.  “If I had a clue that all it would take to settle you down was blonde hair and blue eyes I would have set you up with Kathy’s cousin a long time ago.  Keep it in the family and save us all from Cabot’s wrath when you inevitably piss her off.”

 

Olivia snorted.  “If you had a clue I’d be on the phone with Ripley’s Believe It or Not.”

 

“Har Har.”  Elliot rolled his eyes before locking them with Olivia’s intently.  They stared at each other for a minute, silently conveying everything they would never say to each other.  With a final nod of acceptance, he broke the connection.  “Well, all I have to say is she had better be good to you.  Or her successor will have to pick one hell of a jury.”

 

She gaped at him in mock horror.  “You know, it probably wouldn’t be good for your career to be heard making death threats against your own ADA.”

 

“I’m not making death threats against the ADA.  I’m making death threats against your girlfriend.”  He smiled.  “Jeez Benson, can’t you separate?”

 

Hearing her partner refer to Alex as her girlfriend made Olivia smile brightly.

 

“Christ, you’ve got it bad.”  Elliot snorted.  “Listen Casanova, while you were out getting your wheels greased, the rest of us were working…”

 

“Working?”  She smirked.  “Did that work involve a grilled cheese sandwich and an iron by any chance?”

 

He ignored her.  “Fin and Munch picked up our mystery woman.  DNA already came back a match.”

 

Olivia’s head shot up.  “Who is she?”

 

“Name’s Kate Hansen.  And she’s waiting on us in room one.”

 

*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *

 

Olivia studied the woman across from her silently, taking in the short cropped dark auburn hair, the intelligent gray-blue eyes, and the proud bearing in her posture.   The long, supple fingers of her hands had interlocked as soon as she sat down, going immediately to her lap where they still remained.  Originally those fingers had been hidden beneath black leather gloves, but they had forced her to remove them before leading her into the interrogation room.  She was gorgeous; obviously older and yet ageless in a way that was both disconcerting and blatantly sensual.

 

If Olivia had to guess her age, somewhere between forty and sixty would be as close as she’d be able to get.

 

Kate Hansen was a study in self composure.  She had not asked a single question since Munch and Fin had brought her in the night before.  She had not complained or railed against being kept in the cage overnight.  She had not lost her temper, or even the small smile that had graced her lips since they had brought her to the precinct.

 

And most importantly, she had not asked for a lawyer.

 

Olivia was impressed.  If the woman was guilty of something, she was the coolest criminal she had ever seen and from what she could tell, it wasn’t an act.  A few quiet questions to the officers on cell duty the night before confirmed that Hansen had been a model detainee and that everyone else in the cage had cut a wide swath around her.

 

Even now, the detective could feel the subtle influence Hansen was exerting; waiting them out, offering nothing, making them come to her…so to speak.

 

Olivia glanced at her partner who was standing to one side of the room, looking at the regal women with distaste. 

 

She sighed.  Sometimes Elliot could be so black and white.  “Ms. Hansen,” She began.  “Could you please tell us where you were last Tuesday night until early Wednesday morning?”

 

Sharp eyes focused on her and a small smirk played around that sensual mouth.  “I believe you know where I was, Detective.  Otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”

 

“Humor me.”

 

Hansen sighed.  “If you insist on playing this game then fine, I was with Samantha Wainscott at her apartment from late Sunday night until three thirty Wednesday morning.  Then my driver, Joseph, picked me up and took me home.”

 

“And ‘Joseph’ will confirm that?”  Olivia stared at her intently.

 

The woman’s gaze never wavered.  “Of course.”

 

“What was the nature of your relationship with Samantha Wainscott?”  Elliot growled, tired of the woman’s condescending attitude.

 

Kate Hansen didn’t even bother to look at him.  She kept her eyes locked on Olivia.  “She was mine.”

 

“Your what?”

 

She laughed softly.  “Just mine.”

 

Elliot snorted.  “So, she was your property?”

 

“At times.”

 

“Well, your property is dead, did you know that?”  He snapped.

 

There was a small crinkling around the woman’s eyes, so minute that Elliot didn’t see it.  But Olivia did.

 

Pain.

 

“I am aware of that detective.”  Hansen raised her chin.  “I read it in the newspaper.”

 

“How did you know it was Samantha?”  Olivia asked softly.  “We haven’t released her name.”

 

The steel returned to the older woman’s eyes, almost as if she had caught the gentleness in the detective’s tone and found it offensive.  “It was her neighborhood, Detective Benson.  And when she didn’t return any of my phone calls or emails I made a few well placed inquiries.  I am not without resources.”

 

“I’m surprised you cared enough to check.”  Elliot spat.  “You don’t seem too broken up that she’s dead.”

 

“You don’t know me, Detective Stabler, or my world.  I suggest you withhold your small minded opinions.”

 

He lost it, slamming his hands down on the table as he leaned in close to the woman’s face.  “You’re right!  I don’t have a clue about your sick little world and trust me when I say that I ain’t losing any sleep over it!”

 

“Elliot.” 

 

Olivia’s voice was soft, but commanding and he looked over at her to see her incline her head towards the door.  With a scowl, he pulled away from the table and left the room.

 

Hansen hadn’t even flinched.  Her gaze was still locked tightly on the female detective in front of her.  “And what do you know about my world?”

 

She shrugged slightly.  “Enough to realize that everything comes in shades of gray.”

 

The older woman smiled and nodded slightly.  “I cared for Samantha a great deal, even if we were no longer together.”

 

“Not together?”  Olivia’s brow furrowed.  “Her bed sheets tell us a different story.”

 

Hansen laughed. It was a deep, throaty sound; captivating and altogether charming.  “Come now, detective.  You can’t tell me you’ve never had a last hurrah; a final tryst of passion that takes you both by surprise?  Those last few days we spent together… they were the first in over a month and they were quite accidental.  We ran into each other and fell into bed.  It happens.”

 

The brunette fought back the flush that was trying to crawl up into her cheeks.  She knew perfectly well what the woman was talking about and found it completely disconcerting that Kate Hansen seemed to have no trouble whatsoever getting under her skin.  “So who ended it, and why?”

 

There was another brief look of pain.  “I did; because it wasn’t a safe relationship for either of us anymore.”

 

“Can you explain that please?”

 

Hansen sighed.  It was the first overtly emotional response she had displayed since the questioning began.  “The world I live in… is often misunderstood, detective.”  She met Olivia’s eyes and held them.  “When I first met Samantha she was so new she didn’t even understand it herself.  She needed someone to take her in hand, to teach her her place as a submissive.”

 

“Was that a role she wanted to play?”

 

“Desperately.  But she didn’t even understand the fundamentals of the game.”

 

“Which are?”

 

Hansen’s back straightened and her chin rose slightly, as though she were about to explain something basic to a very naughty child.  “Most people, like your Neanderthal partner, mistake the nature of the roles we play.  They look at it merely as individuals inflicting pain upon each other.  But nothing could be further from the truth.  It isn’t about that at all.  It’s about control; the illusion of who has it, and what you can do with it.  I am a top, a master.  I create a fantasy where my submissive feels safe enough to allow herself to be dominated by me and me alone.  Samantha and I never allowed anyone else into our world.  She was mine and I was hers, when we were together.  And the real truth of my world, Detective Benson, is that the bottom is always the one who is really in control.”

 

Olivia found herself drowning in the woman’s voice.  It was like smoke over gravel; like the voices of the older women from the bars she had frequented in her twenties.  Whispers soaked in whiskey and rough from cigarettes.  It triggered something feral within her and she felt heat bloom within her chest as well as between her legs.  Blinking, she realized that this woman could probably read her the phonebook and get the same response.  “By means of a safe word?”

 

Hansen’s eyes narrowed but she smiled.  “Exactly.”  Her gaze became intense.  “That is the reason so many women who are dominant in their everyday lives enjoy being submissive in bed.  They know that all they have to do is speak that one word and the control shifts back to them.”

 

An image jumped unbidden into Olivia’s mind.  Alex looking down at her, her hair wild around her face, her eyes sparking with heat and desire as she held the detective’s arms immobile above her head; all while whispering ‘Tell me you want it.  Tell me you need it…’. 

 

She swallowed hard.  “Did Samantha use her safe word often?”

 

The older woman looked away for the first time as sadness filled her features.  “She never used it.  Not once in all the months that we were together.  That should have told me something was wrong.  But she just kept asking me for more, to do more, to cause more damage.  A few weeks after she got that bench… that’s when I realized that she and I were not playing in the same world anymore.  Mine was about control.  Hers was about pain.  So I ended it.”  She sighed again.  “It would have ended eventually anyway.  Samantha was in love with someone else.”

 

“Do you know who?”

 

Hansen smirked.  “Yes and so do you.  We’ve done so well together, Detective Benson, please do not begin insulting my intelligence now.  Samantha and I spoke at length about the young Miss Tate.  She loved her and she never hid the fact that she intended to win back her affections.  Giving up me and my world is what it would have taken to do that.  So our split was mutually beneficial.”

 

Olivia pursed her lips.  “Not being the center of her universe… that must have been hard on you.”

 

“Samantha was up front from the beginning.  She told me everything.  Even when she changed her will, it was me she ran to when her father went ballistic.”

 

The detective’s head shot up.  “What did you say?”

 

The older woman looked at her sarcastically.  “I am sure you noticed that Samantha’s father is not exactly the most open minded individual on the planet.  According to her he nearly went into cardiac arrest when she told him she was in love with a woman.  When he found out about her… interests, through a very ill-timed visit on his part, he was very nearly apoplectic.    I can only imagine the extent of his reaction when his little girl informed him that she intended to leave the family fortune to ‘that little dyke’.  In any event, Samantha was inconsolable.  Apparently he said some very harsh things to her.  She would not repeat them but the state of hysteria she was in told me all I needed to know.”

 

Olivia blinked in confusion.  “What about you?  Samuel Wainscott had plenty to say about Serra, but he never mentioned you.”

 

“He didn’t know about me.  The time he walked in on us… Well, let’s just say the view he got wasn’t of my face.” She smiled.  “Plus, Samantha never told him that she and Serra had split up.  She was so sure she could get her back…  She didn’t want her father to get used to Serra not being a part of her life.”

 

Olivia was silent as her mind worked back through all of the information she had just received.  Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the glass behind her.

 

“Excuse me a moment please, Ms. Hansen.”

 

“Actually, my dear,” The older woman smiled charmingly.  “You can call me Kate.”

 

The detective’s eyebrows tried to crawl off her forehead but she merely nodded and left the room, surprised to find Dr. Huang flipping through the case file as he waited for her.  Elliot, Alex and the Captain were also in the room.  To her credit, she simply nodded in Alex’s direction and managed to turn her attention back to the psychiatrist.

 

She smiled.  “About time you got back here!”

 

“Good to see you too, Olivia.”  He closed the file slowly.

 

“So what do you think?”

 

He raised one eyebrow, a small smile on his face.  “What do you think?”

 

Olivia rolled her eyes.  Friggin’ Psychs.  “I don’t think she did it.  Or that she was even involved.”

 

Huang nodded.  “I agree.”

 

“How did you two come to that conclusion?”  Cragen grunted.

 

The psychiatrist inclined his head towards the woman sitting in the other room.  “She is the quintessential ‘top’.  She truly believes in, and abides by, the rules and rituals that her world is wrapped up in.  And while that world does revolve around the concept of control, even more than that, it relies on trust.”

 

“You make it sound almost noble.”  Elliot snorted.

 

Huang nodded.  “In a way it is.  For a relationship to work between two people in the bondage community, it requires that they trust each other implicitly; enough to be one hundred percent honest about what they want and what they are willing to give to get it.  They have to believe that their partner will abide by the limits they have set and honor the safe word established to end the play should it become too much for one of them to bear.  Not only would this type of relationship leave a person completely open and vulnerable to their partner, it opens them up to the possibility of scorn and ridicule should information regarding their proclivities be made public.  What Hansen and Samantha had required an enormous amount of faith, from both of them.  How many so called ‘normal’ relationships would stand up under those same requirements?” 

 

The room was silent.

 

“Kate Hansen simply does not have a motive to kill her.  She gains nothing from her death and according to Warner she even supplied first aid to the victim when their sexual encounters caused physical damage.  It was Sam that wanted to take the games further, to an extent that made even her top nervous.  Add to that the over abundance of artificial lubrication and the tears to the vaginal opening itself and I would say that she wasn’t even getting sexual gratification from the acts anymore.  That isn’t a description of your typical submissive.  It sounds to me like Samantha Wainscott was suffering from a form of masochistic-contrition.

 

“What the hell is that?”  Cragen asked.

 

“It’s the act of initiating masochistic tendencies for the sake of providing emotional release, akin to contrition; generally leading to the relief from some form of guilt.”  He looked at Cragen thoughtfully.  “Much like the propensity for young emotionally unstable girls to cut themselves.  Did Samantha ever engage in that kind of behavior?”

 

The Captain looked stricken.  “She used to show up at police functions with her father.  Sometimes she would have bandages on her arms.  Samuel always explained that she fell off her horse or caught her arms in the rigging on her sailboat.”

 

“And it stopped as she got older?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Huang nodded.  “She outgrew that particular avenue of relief… and began looking for another.”

 

“That may all be true,” Olivia opened the file in his hands and pointed at a picture of the body.  “But you can’t tell me she did that to herself!”

 

“No, of course not; I was merely stating my reasons for believing that Hansen wasn’t involved.”

 

Olivia looked at Cragen. 

 

“Fin called in ten minutes ago.  He confirmed her alibi with her driver, Joseph Ruiz.  He picked her up at Sammy’s apartment at three thirty in the morning and took her straight home where she remained for the rest of the night.  He’ll testify that there wasn’t a drop of blood on her.  Even let Munch take a look through the car.  It’s clean.”

 

Olivia threw her hands up in disgust.  "So we're right back where we started!"

 

"Maybe not."  George looked at her pointedly.  "I have some theories about the condition of her body, if you’re ready to hear them.”

 

"What about her?"  Cragen nodded towards Hansen.

 

“Cut her loose.” Alex spoke up for the first time.  “We don’t have anything to hold her on.”

 

Olivia looked at the ADA curiously, noting the strange tone in her voice.  “Hey El, can you…”

 

He rolled his eyes but nodded.  “Yeah, I’ll take care of it.  She was looking at you like you were a hunk of angel food cake anyway.  If we send you back in there she’s liable to ask you out.”

 

The brunette waited until Captain Cragen had followed Huang into the conference room and then took her lover by the hand, pulling her gently into the next observation room and closing the door behind them.  “Hey… are you ok?”

 

“Hmm?”  Alex chewed on her bottom lip.  “Yeah.”

 

Olivia settled her hands on the blonde’s hips, using them to pull their bodies close together.  “What’s wrong sweetheart?”

 

Alex laughed lightly, resting her arms on the smaller woman’s shoulders as she blushed.  “She was looking at you like you were dessert.”

 

The detective’s jaw dropped slightly.  “You were jealous?”

 

“No!”  She shook her head adamantly.  “Not jealous… exactly.  Cabots do not get jealous.”  Her ears turned even pinker as she mimicked Hansen’s tone right before the detective had left the interrogation room.  “You can call me Kate.”

 

Olivia laughed.  “Riiiight.  You’re not jealous at all.”  She smothered the other woman’s objection with a passionate kiss, invading her mouth with her tongue and nibbling on her bottom lip before finally releasing her.  “That’s ok.  I kind of like you jealous.”  She winked and headed off after Cragen and Huang.

 

Alex watched her go, the happy smile slowly fading from her lips as soon as Olivia was out of sight.

 

 Go To Part V