DISCLAIMER: Law & Order: Special Victims Unit and all characters are
property of NBC and Dick Wolf.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Other than Anya, I don't own anyone from the L&O universe. This story starts in Season 1, which means pre-Alex. Also, I'm not going to even attempt to translate Russian into English, so if I indicate that the language is Russian, but the typing is in English use your imagination. :-) Feedback is welcome and encouraged.
SPOILERS: Starts in Season 1, after/during Contact. Many other spoilers later.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
A few days later, Elliot and Olivia had successfully tracked down the young girl's attacker and were arresting him at his dive apartment on the Lower East Side. As they had suspected, the perp had been a former client of the attorney's and was recently let out on parole. Elliot was shoving the suspect into a beat cop's car to be taken in for booking when Olivia's phone rang.
"Do you always answer your phone like that?"
It was Anya. Olivia laughed a little and leaned against the driver's side of the car, waiting for Elliot. "Yeah, I guess I do."
"Am I interrupting anything?" She asked.
"No, not really. El and I just made an arrest so we're feeling pretty good right now."
"Well, it's always a little bittersweet, but thanks." To Elliot, "Hey, will you drive?" She asked, but the keys were already in the air heading his way to catch. They hit the ground and Elliot bent down to pick them up. "Nice catch, Stabler." Olivia walked to the other side of the car and got in. Elliot soon followed assuming the driving role and started the car. Returning to the conversation with Anya, "so what's up?"
"I found your card in my jacket from the other night. I don't remember you putting it in the pocket that was slick, Olivia."
"You liked that?" Olivia smiled, proud of her little trick. "I thought you might."
As Elliot drove them back to the precinct, he got caught in traffic and cursed loudly to no one, but loud enough for Anya to have heard. "Who is that cursing up a storm?"
"My partner, Elliot. I told you I was used to unfriendly drivers." Olivia reminded.
"Hey, who are you talking to? I am not an unfriendly driver. That guy just cut us off!" Elliot said in his defense.
"It was a joke, El." Back to Anya, "hey, would you like to come out with us tonight?" Olivia asked, suddenly thinking twice about her invitation. Maybe hanging out with a bunch of detectives in a cop bar wasn't Anya's idea of a good time.
"Yeah, I think I could make it. Where?" Olivia was glad she was willing to come out with them. She also kind of assumed that things wouldn't be so charged between them if they were at a bar with a bunch of drunken cops. Olivia still hadn't really thought things through in her mind about the kiss they had shared last Saturday. She wasn't opposed to the idea; it was just different and needed to be handled with caution. It was clear that Anya was very open about her sexuality with others, but Olivia hoped that she would be patient with her as she was going through a multitude of emotional and physical questions.
Olivia relayed the details and location of the bar to Anya, and then closed the conversation as they arrived at central booking. An officer was escorting in the suspect in the other car. Elliot shut off the car, but locked the doors as Olivia grabbed the handle. "You're not getting out of this car until you tell me who that was."
"Elliot, come on." Olivia said, knowing that they had more important work to do at the moment.
"I just want to know who's coming out with us. It's not that guy from narcotics is it?" He asked.
"What?! No. Give me some credit, I do have some taste." Olivia responded.
"Eh, not so much lately, Liv." Elliot smiled and thought again, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. Olivia pulled up the lock on the door and attempted to open it to escape, but Elliot quickly pushed the automatic lock button again. "Hold on. Hold on. Is it the dancer well, is it?" Elliot looked over at his partner. Olivia kept a stone cold façade.
"Her name is Anya, not 'the dancer.' And yes, I invited her. Is that okay with you?"
"Of course. I just thought you had another date and I needed to know if he required any screening after well, I think you know."
"I don't think you'll have to worry about that, El. You have enough to worry about. I can take care of myself." Even though she said it, she liked that Elliot looked after her sometimes, but she also knew that he would always be protective of her whether she wanted him to be or not. "Now can we go?" Olivia said, lifting the door lock again to get out of the car. The two walked into the building to close out their day.
Anya arrived at the bar an hour late, but after one look at her, Olivia knew she was worth the wait. She was dressed down in athletic-like clothing with her hair in a tight, damp ponytail. The t-shirt she wore was loose, and the neck was cut out so that it was barely held up by her shoulders. She also carried a small duffle bag that had ABT's name and logo on it, which Olivia assumed was her version of a briefcase or in her case, a gun holster. For anyone else, she would have looked sloppy or undone, but on Anya, it looked intentional and the carefree look suited her. Not to mention, even though the clothes weren't tight or revealing in a traditional way, she still exposed quite a bit of skin.
Anya scanned the bar, knowing she was out of place with the amount of stares she was getting from the other officers, but didn't let it phase her. She found Olivia, who was waving her over, and approached the detectives' booth.
As Anya approached, Elliot and Olivia rose from the table to allow Anya to sit in the corner. Olivia sat back down next to her and Elliot moved to the other side to sit with Detective Munch. Detective Jeffries had left only ten minutes prior for a date with someone. Stabler offered to take her bag and placed it in the other corner next to Munch. When she sat down next to Olivia, she indifferently kissed her cheek as a greeting. She smells like roses again. Olivia observed. It must be her shampoo, but whatever it is, it's invigorating.
"Hi, sorry I'm a little late. Rehearsal ran over and I didn't really have time to change. Hope you don't mind." She waved over to a waitress to order a Stoli and cranberry juice.
"Naw, you look fine." Elliot remarked. "This isn't the Rainbow Room."
"You're not kidding." Munch said. In an attempt to make Anya more comfortable among the detectives as well as to try and impress her, he spoke to her in his broken Russian. "Hey, I wanted to thank you for signing that program for my ex. She really liked it."
Anya smiled and replied her native tongue, "Your Russian is not bad, detective. It was nothing to sign that for her." Anya said, smiling. "Although it did take me for a walk down memory lane."
As Munch and Anya talked, Olivia and Elliot exchanged glances, both suspiciously wondering if they were talking about them. "I'm not sure how I feel about this," Elliot commented to Olivia, taking a swig of his beer.
Munch continued in Russian to Anya, "I trust your stroll down memory lane took you to a pleasant position?"
She laughed at his misspeak, but knew what he meant. She avoided his question. "If you or she ever want to go and see a performance, I could set it up for you."
"I may take you up on that." Munch said with a smirk.
Anya laughed, tossing her head back. "Just say the word." She smiled sarcastically. She looked over to Olivia, who was confused and wondering when she and Elliot would be included in the conversation. She returned to English and turned back to John, "it would be my pleasure."
Anya's drink arrived and the detectives discussed their recent closed case with a sense of satisfaction of doing right by their young victim. As the evening wore on, the conversations and drinks flowed at an even pace. Anya was fairly certain that John and Elliot didn't know about her and Olivia's date last Saturday night and she did her best to not let on about anything that might have been going on between her and Olivia. Olivia looked sexy in her perfectly fitted button down camel-colored shirt and brown slacks and despite how much she was struggling not to touch Olivia in some way, she refrained out of respect.
She noticed that Olivia wasn't any more forthcoming in the presence of her co-workers than she was with herself. This surprised her, assuming that the only reason why she was so shielding of herself was to protect others of her job. The fact that she kept her walls up around her partner and fellow detectives told Anya that there was definitely more to Olivia's melancholy than what met the eye. After a few drinks though, Olivia was able to relax more and chime in with commentary at John's musings.
Later in the evening, Anya excused herself from the table to go to the restroom. Moments after she left, Elliot's phone rang. He mentioned to Munch and Olivia that the call was from Kathy and his time with them was probably coming to a close. He rose from the table to take the call outside, leaving John and Olivia at the table alone. Olivia sat quietly, taking swigs of her drink and looking around. John amused himself by watching Olivia who was clearly under pressure and lost in her own thoughts.
"Kind of a noisy and crowded place to bring a date don't you think, Olivia?" He asked, breaking the silence.
Olivia's eyes darted towards Munch's. She stopped mid-drink of her beer, pulled the bottle down from her mouth to the table before gradually swallowing the gulp of liquid. "Excuse me?" She said, shooting him a nasty look.
"I know it's none of my business" John continued.
"You're damn right it's not." Olivia snapped, turning her body towards him.
"I know, I know." John said raising his hands defensively and taking another drink. He ignored Olivia's clear warning and trespassed further. "But, look Liv, I know from personal experience that Russian women get whatever they want, when they want it. And right now, Anya's got her bow stretched and an arrow pointed directly at you." He said pointing at her. Olivia didn't answer, except with threatening glares. "I'm not going to judge you or get into your personal business"
"Too late for that don't you think?" Olivia snarled.
He leaned over the table to speak directly. "If you aren't on the same page as she is, I think you had better just make your own intentions very clear, very soon. That's all." John sat back in the booth.
"Thanks, but I think I've got it under control." Olivia sat back and took another drink from her beer, which was almost empty. Who am I kidding; I have absolutely no control over this situation with Anya. Olivia was fuming mad, assuming that Anya had relayed information about their previous date (is that what that was?) to Detective Munch when the two were speaking in Russian to one another earlier in the evening and Anya was definitely looking over at Olivia like she was sharing some kind of secret with her co-worker. It even made Elliot uncomfortable so she could be certain she wasn't just reading into things too much.
Olivia noticed that she had been meticulously picking away at her beer bottle's label and biting the inside of her lower lip out of pure anger and possibly even embarrassment. She rose from the table without another word to John and aggressively brushed by Elliot as he came back to the table without even looking at him in the eye.
Elliot sat down next to Munch and looked from Olivia to John then spoke to John. "What's with Liv?" He asked.
"I think I might have accidentally lit a fuse." John admitted, but didn't go into it further.
Olivia made her way past the other tables and pressed through a crowd of officers to the bathroom. She shoved the door open with such an amazing force that it made Anya's shoulders jump when she entered. She was applying lipstick in the mirror and two other officers were on their way out when Olivia burst through the door.
"What the fuck did you tell John?" Olivia yelled at the woman. The two officers exchanged glances at one another before hurriedly exiting the room.
My God, this woman has a temper! Anya thought to herself, feeling her own short fuse strike a match at being yelled at in public for no apparent reason. She slowly leaned back from the mirror and snapped the lipstick back into its case before returning it to her purse. She stood straight and crossed her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow at Olivia's attack before speaking. "What are you talking about?"
"Earlier tonight," Olivia continued in a similar tone, but maintaining her distance from the slightly taller woman, "when you were speaking in Russian, what did you tell him about us?"
"Us?" Anya asked confused. "We didn't discuss you at all. He thanked me for signing the program for his ex-wife. That's it. What jumped up your skirt, Olivia?"
Olivia suddenly felt foolish, but her embarrassment was masked by her temper as she refused to relent on Anya. She had to take out her frustration on someone and Anya was the only other person in the room. She let out an exasperated sigh. "Well, regardless, Anya, whatever you think is going to happen between the two of us is not going to happen."
"Going to happen?" Anya interrupted, cocking her head to the side. "You speak in future tense, and yet, things have already happened or have you forgotten?"
"No, I haven't forgotten, but it can't continue." Olivia bit her bottom lip, knowing she was being far more defensive than necessary and was starting to feel bad about it.
"I see." Anya said stepping away from the sink and approaching Olivia to challenge her.
Anya's close proximately to her started to crumble Olivia's determination, and in order to continue to protect herself and her insecurities; she allowed her tipsy tongue to speak unfiltered. "I'm sorry, Anya." She took a step back. "I like you. I like going out with you. And you're " She paused. "You're gorgeous but I'm not gay. I'm just not." Olivia held her hands out and open, pleading for Anya to understand her position. Anya stood and glanced up and down Olivia's body before arriving back at her beautiful brown, but perpetually sad eyes.
"Okay." Anya said unapologetically. She passed Olivia and headed to the door and had her hand on the handle to exit, but instead of leaving, she spun around on her heels. "Let me make sure that I understand this correctly, Olivia." She walked towards the detective cautiously, keeping her eyes locked on her. "You like going out with me." Olivia took a step backwards to avoid being closed in by Anya. Anya took another step closer, "you like me." Olivia took another step back and Anya continued her crusade forward. "You think I'm what did you say? Oh yes, gorgeous, I think is what you said." She sauntered another step into Olivia's space, knowing she wouldn't have anywhere to go soon. "Am I off track yet?" Olivia felt the wall behind her and the ferocity of Anya's eyes burning into her. Olivia could take down a suspect with her bare hands, but she could not even begin to stop Anya. She had been thoroughly sabotaged and felt a sense of panic consume her. "But you're not gay." Anya closed the space between them and put her hand over Olivia's shoulder, leaning against it, and trapping Olivia in the corner of the room. "I hate to break it to you, Olivia, but I just don't see the problem here."
"Anya, please." Olivia whispered, looking up at her.
"Please what? Please touch you? Because that is what you want, isn't it?" Anya's emerald eyes sparkled as she lowered her hand on the wall to touch Olivia's hips. She gripped her hand around Olivia's waist, and then leisurely caressed her thumb over her stomach. "Are you to stand there and tell me that you feel nothing right now, Olivia?" She pressed her own hips against Olivia's. "And what if I lowered my lips to kiss you as you kissed me in my car last week? Would you stop me?" Anya lowered her head and lifted Olivia's chin in an effort to kiss the detective. Olivia's blood coursed through her veins and she knew she would not be able to prevent Anya from controlling her. She wanted this woman, but couldn't explain why when she had never been attracted to women before her.
Anya didn't kiss her. She stepped away from the detective and turned towards the mirror, using her fingers to tame stray ringlets of hair before turning back to Olivia. "I'm going to go out there and finish my drink. I'm leaving it in your hands as to whether I stay for another or not." And with that, Anya exited the room without another word or glance to Olivia.
When Anya returned to the table, she was a little surprised that neither of the other detectives asked if everything was all right, but instead dove right into another conversation, inquiring her about her job as a dancer.
Meanwhile in the bathroom, Olivia was cupping cold water in her hands before splashing it on her face. She couldn't tell if she was drunk or if it was more complicated than that. Was she angry, depressed, lonely, or just intoxicated with the notion of being with Anya? The stunt that Anya had pulled in regaining control over her by pressing her against the wall and testing her reflexes and reactions infuriated Olivia, but it also aroused her. In that moment, she had wanted nothing more than to shove Anya back and touch every inch of her skin and smother her with her mouth. John was right about Anya that only pissed Olivia off more.
Olivia cupped another pool of cold water in her hands and sighed into it as it sloshed over her face. She clung to the edge of the sink and looked at herself in the mirror, watching the drops of water drip from her cheeks, nose, eyelashes, and chin. "What are you doing, Olivia?" She asked herself, although she couldn't answer her own question. She turned to the paper towels and took more than she needed and pat her face dry. She ran her fingers through her hair to eradicate any indications of moisture from the tips of her hair. Jesus, I need to get it together. She took in a deep breath and allowed the air to exhale from her lungs quickly as she exited the bathroom to return to the table with her co-workers and my date? My friend? Who is she to me? Anya.
As Olivia approached the table, Anya's eyes shot up and bore into Olivia's, but they were complimented with a cruel smirk at the shattered woman. Olivia sat back down next to Anya and immediately noticed that the woman's drink was almost empty, which meant she would have to make a decision much quicker than she had originally anticipated. She tried to act as if everything was fine, so she did what she always did: deflected the attention to someone else. In that moment, the only person that didn't seem to know what was going on was Elliot. She asked him about his conversation with Kathy. He told them that she was asking when he'd be home. Everyone understood that it meant that Elliot would be heading home to Queens soon once he had sobered up.
Anya's sipped the last of her vodka and cranberry before pushing the empty glass forward. She sat back and sighed, looked over to Olivia, then back to the detectives across the table. When Olivia didn't say anything, Anya shifted in her seat in an effort to get up. "Well, it was a pleasure to meet you both, but I think I'm going to call it a night." Wait! Olivia thought to herself. I don't really want her to leave.
"Wow, someone is actually going home before you, Stabler." Munch remarked.
Olivia's thoughts bounced back and forth in her mind faster than Forrest Gump could hit a ping pong ball until she noticed that Anya had stepped over the back of the bench to leave. Did she not want her to leave because she was attracted to her or was she just lonely? The last time she was drunk and lonely, she had gone home with a co-worker and that ended up being a huge mistake. She didn't want to make that mistake again. But she also didn't think that this was the case with Anya. She genuinely liked and respected her. And she was gorgeous. Damn, is she gorgeous. All she could think about was the moment they shared in the bathroom, how completely taken she was by the woman and then she remembered their kiss in her car from last Saturday and how thrilling it had been.
Olivia instinctively reached for Anya's hand and grabbed it. "Wait." Olivia pleaded, but quickly regained her composure. Anya turned and looked down at her, raising an eyebrow. "Um, it's still early. You don't really need to leave right now, do you?"
Anya tugged and twirled the ends of one of her sandy locks, reading Olivia's thoughts before looking to the detectives. "No, I guess not."
"Then why don't you stay and have a shot with us?" Anya nodded and Olivia released her hand so that Anya could return to her seat on the bench.
Despite that it was Olivia's idea and she wanted whiskey, she was battered with the idea of vodka at Anya and Munch's insistence and eventually gave into them both. The waitress brought the four shot glasses to the table, not knowing that Elliot wouldn't be joining them. Elliot declined his drink, and passed it to a former co-worker from homicide sitting behind him. Olivia downed hers right away, as Munch was attempting to say something prolific.
John turned his attention to Anya after noticing that Olivia had already taken her shot. "She has no respect for me." Anya laughed a little, but Munch continued in Russian, "Although I understand why you'd pursue her." Anya blushed a little and smirked at the veteran detective.
She and the homicide detective waited for Munch to finish his toasting commentary in English before they drank their shots together. As Munch put the glass to his lips, he looked again to Anya and smiled, "Good luck, my dear."
After only a few minutes, Olivia turned to Anya in the booth and asked her if she wanted another shot. She's trying to get me drunk. Anya thought with a slow blink of her eyes. She leaned over towards Olivia's ear and purred so low that no one could hear her but Olivia, "You don't need to get me drunk to get me to touch you."
As she spoke, she moved her right hand slowly from the table where she was holding a tall glass of water down to Olivia's knee. Anya massaged her knee, moving to the inside and underside of Olivia's leg and gave her a shy smile before returning her attention back to the table to continue the conversation as if nothing was going on. Olivia immediately tensed up, but didn't remove Anya's hand. She's just touching my knee; it's okay. We're just fine. Just talk to Elliot. Ask about the twins. Just ask him something. Say something. It's fine. I'm fine. Oh, shit. Anya's hand moved slowly up her leg and teased the top and inside of her thigh. I should stop this. How can she possibly be having a conversation about politics with Munch right now? I need to stop her. But Olivia didn't and as seconds turned into painful minutes, Olivia was getting warmer and more paranoid. Her mouth was dry and her heart beat harder in her chest. I really should stop this but
Olivia shifted her seat forward and put her elbows on the table. She attempted to join the conversation but had no clue as to what Munch, Stabler, and the unfamiliar homicide detective were talking about. She allowed the space between her legs to increase, and Anya took her cue. She moved closer to the table as well to keep her hand in the dark shadows of the table. She gradually allowed her fingers to move up Olivia's leg before resting between Olivia's thighs. Olivia's physical response was immediate as her hips relaxed onto Anya's hand. Worried that she had crossed the line, Anya removed her hand.
Disappointed in the loss of contact, Olivia slowly took her own hand from the table and found Anya's in her lap and guided her hand back to between her legs. She started this and now she's damn well going to finish. Anya's stomach fluttered with excitement and gave herself a little sneer at Olivia's shameless choice. While she knew Olivia was not aware of her surroundings, Anya tried desperately to keep involved in the conversation about various theories and political debates with the male detectives across from her. She knew that if neither one of them commented, that they would definitely be deemed suspicious and eventually caught.
She was slow and gentle with her fingers, but didn't give Olivia so much as a glance or flash of her eyelashes, knowing they'd crack if she did. She pressed her fingers against her harder and Olivia held in a deep breath and biting her tongue to contain any sounds that would have ordinarily come out of her mouth. The liquor started to take its affect on Olivia and she was worried that the alcohol would make it more difficult to remain quiet and indifferent as Anya touched her. She hoped to God that John and Elliot were not talking to her or about her because she was so far away from the conversation at hand and really didn't want to be brought back. They certainly appeared to be oblivious, especially since Anya continued to talk, but she herself begged to be left out of the conversation. Goddamn, this woman oh god
Anya could feel that Olivia was wet beneath the soft brown fabric of her slacks and it made her bite her lip to contain a moan of her own. She wanted to taste Olivia, but was thoroughly enjoying the game she played with the other woman. She found that her own mouth was parched and she took a drink of water using her other hand. It wasn't the same.
She could feel that Olivia was getting tense and knew she wouldn't be able to keep her composure for much longer, and was a little worried that her co-workers would figure out what was going on under the table. They were detectives after all, but the benefits far outweighed the risks in her mind, so she continued to play. She got a little riskier and pushed her middle finger hard against the area of Olivia's slacks that covered her clit, holding the pressure between her legs, and easing it deeper and deeper against her. With that one movement, Olivia knew she had to stop Anya or they were unquestionably going to get caught and Olivia knew she couldn't bear the embarrassment or the potential of lost respect. She reached over to Anya's right thigh and dug her nails into her flesh through her running pants, but as she did, she got lost in the feeling between her legs and again wasn't sure if she was pleading with her to stop or to continue. Before she was able to bring her hand back to Anya's to stop her, Anya pressed hard against the fabric covering her clit again, stroking her audaciously, which brought out an unexpected yelp of pleasure from Olivia's mouth.
Anya immediately removed her hand as she turned to Olivia with a mock-confused look. All eyes were on Olivia, actually, and all she could do was close her legs, run her fingers through her hair nervously, and search her mind for something to say as an explanation for her completely uncharacteristic outburst. She laughed uneasily, "Sorry, my back. You know, uh, a random spasm from an old injury from working vice." She was a horrible liar and no one was convinced, but they didn't pry.
Except that she wasn't entirely lying. She'd definitely experienced a spasm of some kind, just not in her back. But the spasm had been incomplete and she was not content with being left hanging in the booth of that bar. She looked at her watch. It was late, she decided, even though it wasn't really. "It's late; I think I'm going to go."
"Yeah, I suppose I'm ready to go too." Elliot remarked, knowing he was finally okay to drive back to Queens. Anya retrieved her bag back from Elliot and the four left the bar after paying out their respective tabs.
"You want to split a taxi?" Munch asked Olivia, knowing they were going in a similar direction. Although after he said it, he remembered that Anya probably wanted to escort the detective home and internally cursed his faux pas.
"Um," Olivia stammered, really wanting to split a taxi with the other woman in their party.
"Good idea." Anya chimed in after Olivia couldn't come up with a good reason why they shouldn't. "Elliot, you're going uptown, aren't you?"
"Well, sort of. Queens." He explained. "You need a ride?"
"Oh, I didn't realize you were going to Queens. No, I'd be out of the way for you. I'll take the subway, it's okay." Anya asked.
"Are you sure?" Elliot asked.
"Yes, I'm sure."
"But " Olivia protested. Munch had already hailed a cab and was waiting for her.
"Your taxi's waiting, Olivia." Anya said with a smirk. "Thanks for inviting me out tonight. It was nice to meet your fellow officers." She spoke so unceremoniously that Olivia wasn't sure what was going on. That was her hand between my legs just a second ago, right? What is she doing? She asked herself in total disbelief. Anya shook Munch and Stabler's hands before turning to Olivia. "Give me a call." She opened her mouth seductively and gave Olivia a wink before she spun around to head towards the subway station. Oh my god, she's just going to leave me here. What a fucking tease.
Elliot walked over to Olivia and watched Anya walk away. He gave her an abrupt elbow nudge towards the taxi, breaking Olivia out of her trance. "Finally getting a taste of your own medicine, aren't you?"
Olivia was feeling especially stubborn and scorned after Anya's deliberate teasing at the bar and decided that she wasn't going to call Anya. At least not yet. Her resilience against calling Anya was not without testing; however, and it didn't help that Elliot and John were letting their imaginations run away with them behind her back.
The precinct was in over their heads with a particular case anyway, pulling late nights for three consecutive days, so Olivia had a good excuse for not calling Anya at first. At least, that's what she told herself. Two could play at this game. Although Olivia wasn't entirely convinced that she was the one winning.
Eventually, after plenty of time had passed to silently express Olivia's disapproval at being toyed with, Olivia decided to make the call to Anya to see if she was available to go out this coming Saturday. Anya had far too much control over her and it was time to turn the tables on her. Olivia rose from her desk with her cell phone and walked up the stairs to get a little more privacy. She pulled out Anya's business card from her pocket and punched the numbers into her phone.
After only one ring, Anya answered the phone, "Hello, this is Anya." She was taking a break from rehearsal, but sat on the floor of the studio with a few other dancers, stretching.
"That was a nasty little trick you played with me the other night, Ms. Krilov." Olivia jabbed into the speaker of her phone.
"Excuse me? The other night? That was over a week ago, Ms. Benson." Anya played back.
"It's Detective Benson."
"Oh, I do apologize, detective. How dare I?" Anya used that playfully patronizing tone again. She laughed. " I don't mean to rush you, but I am due back in rehearsal soon so what can I do for you, detective?" She held the phone to her ear as she bent over her legs, pulling back on her feet to loosen the calf and lower thigh muscles.
"I was calling to see what you were doing this Saturday. I ordinarily have a hard time planning ahead for obvious reasons, but I wanted to see if you wanted to set something up tentatively." She was pacing and somewhat babbling so she decided to sit down on the couch and shut up.
"Well, I have rehearsal again, but I should be out by the evening. What did you have in mind?"
"Um, nothing actually. I thought maybe you'd have a suggestion." Olivia said, rubbing the back of her neck in an attempt to settle her nerves.
"Hmm let me think for a second." Anya split her legs apart with one in front and one behind. She pulled her back leg up with her hand, pulling it towards her shoulders and moaned into the stretch while still maintaining the phone on her ear. The soft moan into the phone made Olivia a little curious as to what was happening on the other end of the phone, but she didn't say anything. "Do you like live music?"
"Yeah, almost all kinds." Olivia answered.
"Okay. There's a little jazz and supper club in your neighborhood that I go to every now and then. It's a bit of a hole in the wall, but they always have great music and they welcome a mixed crowd." Anya suggested, changing her stretch to the opposite leg. "Would that interest you?"
"Sure." Olivia shrugged to herself. She really didn't care. She just wanted to see her again.
"Good." Anya said, pleased. She changed her stretch to an upside down butterfly with her elbows and stomach on the ground and her legs in a diamond behind her, laying flat on the floor.
Anya relayed the details of the location to Olivia to which Olivia immediately remembered passing by the location on many occasions, but had never gone in. She heard Cragen calling for her downstairs, then asking Elliot where his partner was. "I have to go."
"So do I." Anya said before saying goodbye to the detective and closing her phone and returning to rehearsal.
Olivia rushed down the stairs and breezed into Cragen's office to see what he had wanted. He handed her a new file to review with Elliot before driving to Lower Manhattan to interview a witness. She took the folder and headed back to her desk, passing pages back and forth with Elliot, and discussing the details of the crime and the description of the witness before heading out the door together.
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