DISCLAIMER: Well, I thought I owned them, but then my shrink told me I don't, and I was suffering from a severe case of Chronic Bensonitis. Apparently they're not real and the story below only happened in my head. What's all that about?
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

By tigerDE

I always knew I'd fall in love with a lawyer. For a while I thought it might have been Jack McCoy, or Tracey Kibre, or even that woman in white collar with the great body that had featured in more than one sexual fantasy.

Never, in a million years, would I have guessed I'd fall in love with Alexandra Cabot.

Cabot. Even if her family didn't feature heavily in the gossip sections of the papers I'd have known she was old money by the name. She had political aspirations, not caring who she stood on as she made her way to what she thought was rightfully her place at the top.

That quickly ended when she started work at SVU. I know what that place is like; cases where no justice is done, and even when a 'guilty' verdict comes in you feel like you've lost. I watched as her ice cool façade melted, each case slowly eating away at her until her barriers had completely dissolved and I had to turn my head away from the pain in her eyes.

Still, we were never friends. If you'd have told me three years ago that I'd be spending the rest of my life with Alex Cabot I'd never have believed you. And if you'd have told me I'd be buying her flowers and jewellery and other terribly romantic things I'd have got Skoda down in minutes to commit you.

It certainly didn't start out romantically. We were at a party of a mutual friend; not a lawyer party, thank god, but a proper one with loud music and gyrating bodies and alcohol flowing freely. We weren't ridiculously drunk, but we were both well past tipsy, and so when I saw her across the room, wearing a vest top and jeans tight enough to make my mouth water, I decided it would be a very good idea to go over and pull her away from the group of guys she was dancing with. She seemed oblivious to their lecherous looks fixated on her…fantastic…breasts, and I managed to convince myself that I was going to save her, nothing more.

She seemed genuinely pleased to see me, which was surprising considering the arguments we had since she was appointed at SVU. I managed to get her off the dance floor and away from those sleazebags, under the pretext of being able to hear her better, and we started an easy conversation. I was just about to ask her if she wanted a drink when some drunken guy who I vaguely recognised stumbled into us, pushing her onto me.

Her body was pressed against mine, and I began to panic, wondering if she could tell how much I was enjoying it. Until I looked down, and I saw her eyes were fixated on the 'v' of my sweater, her face flushed and her mouth parted ever so slightly. Slowly, her gaze moved up my neck and face until it met mine, and I knew immediately from the look in her eyes what she was going to do next. Her hands were still on my forearms from when she'd grabbed them to steady herself, and unhurriedly she slid them up, caressing my collarbone briefly before pushing her fingers into the hair at the back of my neck and pulling me down so my lips met hers.

She kissed me with the same confidence as she has in everything she does. It was so sure and deliberate, the most erotic kiss I'd ever experienced. Before I knew it I had her backed against a wall, my hands up her top and hers kneading my ass, and I suddenly realised I was one minute away from taking her right there, for all the world to see.

"Come home with me," I breathed, moving back slightly and trying to calm my racing heart. Her eyes searched my face for a moment, then she grabbed my hand and pulled me away, and within five minutes we were making out in the back of a cab like a pair of horny teenagers. It wasn't my fault I couldn't keep my hands off her, and though I was thoroughly embarrassed the next morning I've done it time and time again since.

It was a good job the taxi ride ended when it did because her lips were ghosting over my earlobe and I wasn't sure how much more of that sweet torture I could take. Throwing bills at the driver I practically dragged her up to my apartment – not that she wasn't an active participant, she just wasn't walking fast enough for my liking – and once we were inside she had me pushed up against the door, our tongues battling for dominance. And so began the first night of the hottest sex I've ever had.

The next morning was surprisingly un-awkward, though it got off to a funny start. Considering we hadn't left the party until one in the morning, and collapsed in a sweaty heap of tangled limbs at gone three, it was far too early when Alex's cell went off at half six.

At first I was disorientated, I couldn't work out what had woken me. Then that goddamn phone rang again and Alex scrambled out of bed, cursing as she frantically searched the pile of clothes at the foot of my bed for her cell. Blindly I reached out to the night stand to get my glasses, putting them on just in time to see her take a deep breath to compose herself before putting the phone to her ear.


Her tone of voice was polite and professional, but if you paid attention you could hear a slight hint of anger that let the caller know that it had better be fucking important. She listened for a few seconds, then threw her hands up in exasperation.

"Olivia, I've told you! We haven't got enough for a warrant, and you're ringing me at this time on a Sunday morning to…"

I tried to follow the rest of the conversation, but I just couldn't ignore the fact that she was naked and sexy as hell when pissed. I merely sat back and watched as she paced my bedroom floor, running her hand through her hair in annoyance and punctuating the odd remark with a flail of her arm.

She was certainly the most gorgeous woman to ever see the inside of my bedroom, and the only once since. Her hair was tousled from sleep and our prior activities, and despite the scowl on her face she still had that 'just been fucked' look. My eyes narrowed as I noticed a bite mark on her shoulder where I'd sunk my teeth in as I came, and I began to feel guilty until I remembered her answering moan hadn't been one of pain.

As my cheeks flushed with heat at the memory, I realised Alex had stopped moving, and was stood with her hand on her hip, listening intently. When she spoke she was no longer shouting, though her voice still held the same irritation at being woken up.

"Right, fine, I'll wake up a judge. Uniform will be over with it within the hour."

She ended the call and turned to face me for the first time since leaping out of bed. She blushed when she saw me openly appraising her, and glanced down as if noticing for the first time she didn't have any clothes on.

"Stop looking at me," she snapped, but without malice. I chuckled and threw her a t-shirt from my bedside drawer. As much as I was enjoying the view, I knew I wouldn't feel comfortable ringing a judge when I was naked, especially as I knew Petrovsky was on call.

"And wipe that grin off your face," she ordered as she pulled it over her head. I shrugged and feigned an air of innocence as she picked up the phone again and dialed that dreaded number. Within minutes she'd convinced Petrovsky to sign off on a search warrant and arranged for it to be taken to her detectives somewhere on 49th.

"God, I hate that part of my job," she groaned when she'd finally finished the call.

"I know," I said sympathetically, because I truly did. She looked at me again, and suddenly seemed lost for words. We stared at each other for a few long seconds, then she began to excuse herself.

"I should go…" she started uncomfortably, but trailed off when she saw me lift up the duvet for her and gesture for her to get in. I could see her debating whether she should or not, but then she smiled slightly and crawled back into bed, stopping only to shed my t-shirt again.

I know I sighed happily when her skin touched mine, and I think she did too. She rested her head on my shoulder, one leg insinuating itself between mine. We lay for a few minutes, just delighting in the warmth of each other, her fingers gently tracing small circles on my stomach. I was the one to break the silence.

"Will you have dinner with me sometime?"

There was a moments pause, then we both started laughing at the absurdity of the situation. But once we'd calmed down she gave me her answer, and that night saw us making out in the back of a cab on the way back from a fancy restaurant.

And so we embarked on a whirlwind – and certainly tumultuous – relationship. We were on, then off, then on again, the pressures of our job and her social obligations causing massive arguments, after which we'd swear to never speak again but find ourselves in each others arms two days later. Gradually, the fights became less frequent, and now they're a thing of the past. Sure, the pressures are still there, but we cope with them now. Plus, I'm a sucker for blue eyes, and she's perfected that look, the one that I can't say no to.

We've been together two years, and this last month has seen a huge step forward in our relationship. At this very moment, I am watching Alex wake up for the first time in our new apartment.

"Hey," I whisper in her ear as her eyes flicker open.

"Hmmm," she mumbles as she stretches, and I wonder if she's feeling the same delicious ache in her limbs as me. "Ugh," she groans a few seconds later, flopping back onto the bed. "I'm getting too old for all this."

"Too old for what?"

"Marathon sex. I've strained muscles in places I didn't even know I had." I know what she means, but I'm not going to let her know that. Not yet, anyway.

"Are you saying you didn't enjoy it?" I pretend to be insulted and it works. She lifts her head from my chest and reaches up to give me a kiss.

"You know I did, baby. Didn't my shouts of 'Oh God, Abbie' give you any hints?"

"Well, I am good," I agree immodestly, and she swats me lightly on the shoulder before settling back down onto my chest. She doesn't disagree, however, and my ego does a lap of honour. "So, do you reckon we christened the bed ok, or do we need to go again?"

She laughs out loud at that. "Before I even entertain the thought of further sex, you will have to run out and get me breakfast."

"Me?! Why me?" I'm about to protest, but she turns those irresistible eyes towards me and I reiterate my earlier thought.

Never, in a million years, would I have guessed I'd fall in love with Alexandra Cabot.

But I'm definitely glad I did.

The End

Return to Law & Order Fiction   Return to Law & Order: SVU Fiction

Return to Main Page