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"Please shoot me."
Olivia looked up at the ADA. "And good morning to you, too."
"Don't start," Alex warned. Leaning in, she spoke quietly, "I've already said good morning to you."
"Is that what you were saying? All I could make out was `oh, God, Liv, don't stop.'"
The women exchanged grins.
"So why the death wish?" the detective asked.
"To spare me a fate worse than Ridenour." Alex perched one hip on the edge of Olivia's desk. "Sensitivity Training."
Alex rolled her eyes. "`Sensitivity and Respect for Diversity.'"
"Boy, Liz really fucked you over."
"It's not for me!" the attorney said indignantly. "I'm giving the training."
Olivia cringed. "To us?"
"God, no," Alex replied. "I don't have all day."
"This from `Ms. Just Shut Up and Do Me,'" Olivia said smugly.
"You liked it."
"True," Olivia admitted. "So, why are you stuck with this? Sounds like an HR job."
"The new Collective Bargaining Agreement requires the training to be given by an attorney," Alex said. "Between a third and fourth drink somewhere, Liz somehow came up with the brilliant idea that ADAs should all take turns."
The other detectives wandered into the SVU squad room, acknowledging their assistant district attorney with friendly nods.
"While you're here, Alex, I need to run something by you," Olivia said loudly, gesturing toward the observation area. Alex followed her inside, where Olivia grabbed her and nibbled down her throat. "Let's take the day off."
"Mmm," Alex groaned. "We really shouldn't."
Nimbly unfastening a couple of buttons on Alex's suit jacket, Olivia slid her hand inside and caressed a soft breast. "Sure we should," she said.
"OK." Alex tugged her closer, sliding her hands down Olivia's hips. "As soon as I'm done with Mortenson."
"How long will that be?" Olivia nipped the sensitive area near Alex's collarbone.
"We're scheduled for four hours."
"It might not take that long," Alex reassured her. "Just until Mortenson demonstrates a `sincere understanding of and commitment to diversity.' The Collective Bargaining Agreement requires that he be given a chance to rehabilitate before the Department can suspend him." Glancing at her watch, she refastened her jacket. "I'd better get in there."
The detective jerked a thumb toward SVU's interrogation room. "You're in there?"
Alex shrugged. "Neutral location," she said. "It's in the--
"--Collective Bargaining Agreement," Olivia finished. "Maybe I should read that some time. I didn't know that fucking up might get me some one-on-one with you."
Olivia shuddered. "I'll take the suspension."
With a final peck on the lips, Alex picked up her briefcase and strolled into the interview room. Olivia watched her reach across the conference room table to shake hands with her subject. The detective had a break coming anyway, and she decided to spend it gazing at an attractive blonde.
"Good morning, Detective," Alex said to the beefy specimen seated across the table from her. "I'll try to make this as painless as possible."
"Oh, I'm feeling no pain, Counselor," he replied.
"I will be noting your attendance," Alex continued. "Apart from that, whatever happens in our session is strictly confidential pursuant to the Collective Bargaining Agreement. Nothing will leave this room."
Damn. The declaration pricked at Olivia's conscience, and she reluctantly excused herself with one last wistful glance at the vision on the other side of the glass.
In less than an hour, a door slammed behind her, and Olivia turned excitedly toward the interview room. Finally!
Alex marched purposefully toward her. "That ass!" she hissed.
"Who else?" The attorney shook her head angrily. "Ass."
"You're not sensing a sincere commitment to diversity?" Olivia frowned. So much for a little Friday afternoon spontaneity.
"I'm sensing a sincere commitment to being an ass," Alex replied. "At this rate, four hours will just be the tip of the iceberg. I'm sorry, Olivia. I really was in the mood for--"
Desk sergeant Howard offered a slight wave as he passed by, and Alex leaned in to whisper in her lover's ear.
Oh, God. It had been a while since they did that. Mortenson, you bastard, Olivia thought as Alex's hips sashayed away from her.
It was increasingly difficult to focus on her stack of LUDs, and after a few minutes, Olivia yielded to temptation, slipping into the interview room to watch through the window.
"Why don't you give me an example of `visual conduct' that could constitute sexual harassment under this section?" Alex asked.
Mortenson leered at her. "If I was to stare at your nice tits," he said, lowering his gaze to her breasts, "Would that do it?"
Olivia ground her teeth together. Dick.
With a sigh, Alex continued, "And what might constitute `inappropriate verbal conduct'?"
"If I was to say out loud what I'd like to do to you," the cop replied.
"Detective Mortenson, considering the thickness of your disciplinary file, I would take this procedure a little more seriously," Alex advised him.
"Thick ain't necessarily bad," Mortenson said, laying a palm across his crotch.
That did it. Throwing open the door, Olivia strode into the room. "Sorry I'm late, Miss Cabot," she said, coming to a halt beside Mortenson's chair. "Please continue."
"Uh . . .," Alex said. "Okay . . . ."
"What's she doing here?" Mortenson asked.
"I'm Miss Cabot's training partner," Olivia answered with a smile.
He gave her a once over. "You can train me any time," he said.
"Detective Mortenson, can you give me an example of inappropriate physical conduct?" the ADA asked.
He smirked at her. "You mean like if you were bent over this table, and I came up behind you and--"
Suddenly, Olivia grabbed him by the back of his head and slammed his face against the hard wooden surface.
"What the fuck?" Mortenson exclaimed. "You crazy bitch!"
"What was the question?" Olivia asked, loosening her grip on the officer's hair.
Wide-eyed, Alex replied, "Detective Mortenson was giving me an example of inappropriate physical conduct under Section 4.3."
He snarled, "If I was to grab that tight ass of yours and--"
"Ow!" Mortenson cried, holding his battered nose. He lunged at Olivia, but she expertly kneed him in the groin and shoved him back into his seat.
"What was that example again?" she asked him.
Sucking in his breath as he held both hands to his injured pride, Mortenson glared at her. "If someone was to pat someone on the butt," he muttered finally.
"Or?" Olivia prodded him.
"Or put an arm around her, or that kind of thing."
The attorney moved on to the next paragraph in the personnel handbook. "What are some words that you might say to a larceny victim who is raising her voice to you at your station house?" she asked.
Answering automatically, he said, "Stupid cu--"
Olivia laid a hand on his shoulder.
"Ma'am?" he finished.
Alex nodded her approval.
"And what might you say to a person from Mexico who is asking you why there is no progress on his case?"
"Stupid spi--" Glancing over his shoulder, he said, "Sir?"
Thirty minutes later, Alex hooked her arm through Olivia's as the women strolled out of the station house together.
"We make a good team, Detective," she murmured, leaning into the brunette. "I never realized how sensitive you are . . . ."
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