DISCLAIMER: Law & Order: Special Victims Unit and all characters are
property of NBC and Dick Wolf.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This was written to answer a challenge on the femslash fluff livejournal community. The challenge was Alex/Olivia, hotel room, string of pearls. Since the string of pearls lacked either a definite or indefinite article I chose to interpret it my way. I like to be different.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Dancing Queen
By Jac H
Olivia dropped her sports holdall onto the floor beside the king-size bed, leaving the wooden rack free for Alex's rather expensive looking overnight case. It was brown canvas and monogrammed. Olivia thought it might be Louis Vuitton but she wasn't quite au fait enough with such things to be able to swear to it. She threw herself onto the bed, tucked her hands behind her head and finally gave in to the laughter that had threatened all day.
The bell-hop who had insisted on accompanying them looked mildly anxious as he reverently laid Alex's case on the rack. A murmur of thanks, a discrete exchange of a presidential portrait and Alex closed the door on his retreating form.
She turned and leaned against the door and grinned at her lover. "You are incorrigible."
"Who? Me? You mean you didn't want to laugh as that poor man cringed awaiting the royal wrath when he explained the 'unfortunate error in our accommodations'.
"That 'inexplicably' we had been booked into the same room and it only had the one bed. And he was 'terribly sorry' but there were no other rooms." Olivia sat up with a grin that matched Alex's.
"You don't think it was an error?" Alex enquired.
"Oh come on Alex. Surely you don't seriously believe..."
Alex interrupted "Not for one minute, love." Alex moved to one of the room's large armchairs and seated herself. "Oh, this is comfy. I love chairs like this." She kicked of her shoes and tucked her legs onto the chair.
"Liz booked the room. Since it was she who arranged for me to attend this conference and she who decided that being accompanied by a detective from Special Victims would be beneficial to 'inter-departmental relations'. And of course it was Liz who suggested that you were the ideal choice and arranged it with Cragen. I doubt any part of this is accidental.
"Not that a conference on 'The Federal Implications of Domestic Abuse Statutes for Law Enforcement Professionals' isn't relevant for both of us. But all the same...."
"So, she knows. Is that going to present any problems for you Alex?"
"I don't think so, Liv. I don't expect Liz will be taking out a full page advert in the New York Times and it's obvious she's comfortable with us." Alex gestured towards the bed to emphasise her point. "I'm more worried about you. I don't want you walking through a door not knowing..."
"Elliot knows and he's happy for me, for us, and as long as he has my back I'm fine. Now, I suggest we shower, being careful to conserve water of course. Then we can see how comfortable this bed is. Then perhaps room service and a quick look at the schedule for tomorrow. Then some more close inspection of the bed..."
Alex grinned, unfolded herself from the chair and stalked towards Olivia. "Well I don't know how much water we're going to be able to conserve by those methods but if we put your suggestions to a vote I think they will be carried nem con." She held out one hand and as Olivia clasped it, drew her to her feet and into a loose embrace.
Measured in gallons consumed the water conservation exercise was a dismal failure.
The two-day convention had been both interesting and enlightening. The evenings, spent together in their room, had been very relaxing, providing a break that neither woman had realised they needed. They'd eaten meals from the room service menu, discussed the day's seminars and unwound with more attempts at water conservation and a great deal of testing of what had proved to be an incredibly cosy bed.
The time had been almost idyllic; until that night.
The conference was winding down with a semi-formal dance. Olivia had, with much grumbling, allowed Alex to pour her into a crimson silk sheath which was both incredibly simple and stunningly expensive and should never be described with a word as commonplace as 'dress'.
It had been the look on Alex's face in the changing room which had persuaded Olivia to stop complaining and allow Alex to treat her. A look that she knew was mirrored on her own when Alex walked out of the hotel bathroom in the outfit that Alex had dubbed "my little black number". Olivia was looking forward to slipping it slowly off. In fact she had almost suggested that they skip the dance and go straight to the slipping. The only thing that stopped her was Alex's enthusiastic "I love dancing."
Two hours into the dance Olivia wished she'd gone with her first instincts. Her feet hurt. She was tired of standing by the wall. Tired of the comments. "Oh you're a police officer; I thought this conference was limited to professionals." And she was very, very tired of watching every sleazy snake in the room hit on her girlfriend.
She wasn't sure what she resented more. The fact that Alex had been invited to dance by every male in the room and had even danced with some of them. Or that she couldn't ask her partner to dance on what, she had realised, was their six-month anniversary.
She was well on her way to working herself into a complete sulk when Alex caught her by the arm.
"Olivia, please if you love me then get me out of here before I kill someone. If I have to dance with one more slimy octopus just because it's political expedient I'll scream. I want to go home with you and scream for a different reason. Please say we can leave."
Olivia's mood reversed at such speed that she was convinced she'd heard a sonic boom. Beaming broadly she stepped between Alex and an approaching octopus. "I'm sorry but Miss Cabot has developed a migraine. I'm afraid we'll have to leave. It was nice meeting you." She turned and shepherded Alex to the elevator.
Closing the door of their room as short while later, Alex signed in relief.
"Why, Detective Benson I do believe you just told a direct lie to a Supreme Court judge."
"I wasn't under oath, counsellor. And I'll plead extreme duress if questioned about it."
Alex cuddled into Olivia and nuzzled her neck. "Extreme duress, detective?"
"Very extreme duress, counsellor. Caused by the fact that it's our anniversary and I want to dance with the woman I love "
"I thought you'd never ask." Alex moved them both into the centre of the room and picked up the remote control. "Let me see... ah... perfect."
"Big band music?"
"Glenn Miller. Dance with me detective?"
Olivia gently kissed Alex's lips, barely touching them, sore feet forgotten as she enfolded Alex in her arms, swaying slowly with the rhythm. "I'd love to counsellor. What is this called?"
"String of Pearls." Replied Alex, happy to be able, finally, to dance with the only person she'd wanted to all night. "It's called String of Pearls."
The End