DISCLAIMER: Law & Order: Special Victims Unit and all characters are property of NBC and Dick Wolf.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Originally written for the femslash_fluff LJ community.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

By kimly


The sharp clack against the linoleum alerted the detective to the eminent arrival of his ADA. Alex strode through the open double doors arriving at her typical position beside Olivia's desk. Availing herself of the empty chair, she sat and crossed her legs.

"I hear you got Handleson. Good work."

"One of Fin's old stoolies coughed up his dealer who in turn rolled," Elliot explained watching Alex glance around the bull pen, knowing who she was looking for. "She's showering in the locker room off the gym in the basement."

"In the middle of the afternoon?"

"There was a scuffle…" He had barely started to explain when Alex cut him off with a wave.

"I'm assuming this 'scuffle' has not resulted in the need for stitches or casts or further medical attention?" She rubbed her temple feeling a headache coming on.

"Nah, nothing so dramatic this time," he continued, remembering the last time 'scuffle' and 'Olivia' had been used in the same sentence to their ADA. Olivia had been the first one to catch up with a fleeing suspect who turned out to have a switch blade, not caring that they were illegal and would tack another 18 months onto the sentence Alex secured for assault on a police office. That scuffle had resulted in too many stitches to count as 'Shit-for-Brains' – the name Elliot heard her call the scumbag – nearly filleted her lower arm. "Although her pants may be a lost cause."

"Where's the defendant now?" Alex asked, figuring to get the official out of the way before seeing to more important matters.

"John and Fin have escorted Mr. Rohypnol to St. Mark's." At her arched eyebrow he continued. "Broken wrists sustained while resisting arrest. Olivia tackled him. Happened when they went down. "

Alex shook her head. "Okay. Call his lawyer or put into Legal Aid for him." She looked to the door. "How long has she been down there?"

Elliot paused in dialing. "About thirty." He shrugged and went back to making the call.

Alex signaled she was leaving her briefcase under Olivia's desk, gave a small wave and wandered in search of her delinquent detective.

The smell definitely signaled gym; stale sweat and mildew. The place was empty as she made her way across some mats to the locker room door on the far wall. Pushing open the door, she expected to hear a shower running, instead she found her detective sitting on a folding chair at the end of the lockers with a scowl on her face.

"Elliot thought you were showering." Alex took a seat on the old wooden bench trying to place her lover's mood.

"I was going to…"

Alex finally noticed the tear in the right knee of Olivia's slacks, the skin beneath bloody. She moved off the bench and stooped before the other woman balancing by placing her hand on the uninjured leg. "Is this more serious than it looks?"

Olivia shook her head and gazed fondly into Alex's eyes. "Just a scrape, I promise." She ran her fingers through the pale hair.

"Liv, what's going on? You're starting to scare me."

"It's so embarrassing for a grown woman, not to mention a cop, to not be able to…"

"Not able to what, sweetheart?" Alex took the hand from her hair and kissed the fingers.

"My socks," Olivia stated in a rather annoyed tone.

For the first time Alex looked at her shoeless feet yet still didn't get the significance. There was no blood. Everything seemed to be intact. Specifically, they were a dark heather gray, cotton if she knew Olivia as well as she thought she did, providing a pleasing contrast between the jet black pants and black loafers. She took a breath to calm her frustration.

"Olivia, help me out here," Alex pleaded.

"I feel like an idiot. I sat down to take off my socks and my back seized up. I can't stand. I can't reach my phone. And I can't take off my own damn socks!"

Alex stood up, relieved at what she finally heard. She bent and kissed Olivia softly, figuring once she got the detective's mind off her supposed failings, she'd call her secretary and have her deliver one of those new heat wrap things the athletes on TV had been touting, then she'd call Elliot to bring around her car. This was one injury to be treated at home.

The End

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