DISCLAIMER: Law & Order: SVU and its characters are the property of Dick Wolf and NBC. No infringement intended.
CHALLENGE: Part of the 'Ground Zero' series and Vampires, Ghosts and Zombies challenge.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author
Ground Zero - New York, 6.19am
Alex sat beneath her desk and refused to move. She was a rational person, she knew people didn't come back from the dead; unless they were her, of course, but that was beside the point. The grey skinned monster in a badly fitting suit had not been her former fiancé. There was just no way it was possible; he might have been dull, but he did have a pulse.
"This is not happening. This is not happening." She'd known getting engaged to some lunkhead could have serious repercussions for her love life, but she'd never realised it would also turn her insane. "He's not a walking corpse. He's not a walking corpse. It's just a metaphor. Just a . . ."
"Alex!" Olivia slammed into the door, the hinges giving way and wood splintering in her wake. "Are you in here?"
"The attack started hours ago, she'd have been in bed," rationalised her companion.
"Have you seen her fiancé," Olivia quipped.
"He's not dead, it's just a metaphor!" Alex screamed, sending Olivia and Lena Petrovsky clasping for their hearts in shock.
"For pity's sake, Alexandra, will you get out from under that desk immediately!"
The choice between zombies, insanity and Petrovsky's wrath was a simple one to make, and Alex quickly scurried out from beneath her wooden shield. "Your Honour."
"Oh, Alex," Olivia swept the blonde into her arms, sweet words of reassurance and adoration tumbling from her lips, until she was rudely shushed by the object of her affection.
"Ixnay on the esbianlay," Alex nodded in Petrovsky's direction, "before I get iredfay."
For a moment Olivia wondered if the strange speech was a sign of impending zombification, but Petrovsky soon elucidated, "She means cut the gay crap in front of the old lady." She snorted. "As if I didn't know the side her bread was buttered the minute she stepped into my courtroom wearing those glasses."
"They're designer frames," Alex fumed.
"Forget about that, we need to get back to the station house; Casey and Elliot should have it locked up tight by now."
"Casey? As in Novak?"
"If you think I'm going anywhere near that little floozy, you are seriously mistaken." Alex promptly dropped to the floor and scrambled back beneath her desk.
Petrovsky found Alex's stash of single malt whiskey and poured herself a healthy dose while she watched the little drama unravel. She'd always thought Alex was a level headed and, dare she say it, sane member of the bar, even if she was prone to trying her luck and getting thrown in a holding cell for contempt. Sitting there, listening to her whine on and on about some other attorney moving in on her territory, while the dead roamed the corridors outside and the death toll rose by the second, was more than enough to make her reconsider that particular judgement.
"I told you, we only work together," Olivia tried for the forth time. "She's seeing this freckly-faced kid from Major Cases."
"You're lying. The world is coming to an end. My fiancé is dead and ambulatory, and you're lying to me!"
"Leave her," Petrovsky instructed. "I'm sure Casey's more than capable of organising the counter attack on her own."
"What?" Alex was on her feet and brandishing a wicked looking hunting knife before the word had finished leaving her lips. "What are we waiting for?"
Lena took another gulp of the whiskey, she had a feeling she was going to need it.
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