DISCLAIMER: Law & Order: Special Victims Unit and all characters are property of NBC and Dick Wolf.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

Silly Bored Alex Thing
By Del

Olivia was surprised to see her partner strolling casually into the squad room. "I thought you were supposed to be in court," she said.

"McKell's lawyer took the deal on the courthouse steps," he said. "Must have been intimidated by my profile."

"Your psych profile?"

"Ha ha." He dropped into his chair.

From his desk across the aisle, Munch leaned over. "Let me get this straight," he asked Elliot. "Cabot cleared a whole week of her calendar for this trial?"


"And now it's off?"


Fin groaned. "Oh, hell no. You know what that means."

"What?" Olivia asked.

"It means Cabot going through all her open files to come up with even more shit to add to the megashit we already got," Fin said.

In case that wasn't clear enough, Munch elaborated further. "Cabot on the phone every five minutes," he said. "Cabot in the squad room every ten minutes. Cabot Cabot Cabot."

Olivia's eyes lit up. Cabot Cabot Cabot?

"We got any callouts?" Fin yelled over to the desk sergeant. He had barely finished the question when his phone rang. "Tutuola," he answered. "Yeah . . . We're working on it . . . We've been over that." He rolled his eyes at his partner. "Yeah . . . we tried that. And that."

Glancing at her colleague periodically, Olivia hoped that Alex would ask to talk to her next. Her hopes were dashed, though, when a frustrated Fin hung up with a growl. "See?" he said to Olivia, waving a steno pad with newly added notes at her. "Shit."

Detective Benson stared at her own phone. Ring! she commanded it.

"Five minutes? That's the best you could do?" Munch said crossly to his partner. "Now she'll just--" The complaint was interrupted by the ringing of his desk phone. "John Munch," he spoke into it. "Yes, Counselor, what can I do for you? . . . Not yet . . . She wasn't home yesterday. . . You want it when?" He drew the phone away from his ear and thumped himself on the head with it.

Olivia turned her attention to the open case file on her desk. What did she care if Alex was talking to someone else only a few feet away from her at that very moment? She listened with half an ear, waiting for the call to end and Alex to be freed up, possibly with a question for her.

When her partner's phone rang a few minutes later, Elliot reached for it automatically.

"I wouldn't," Munch warned.

To Olivia's surprise, Elliot hesitated.

"Aren't you going to get that?" she asked. "It could be important."

"Uh . . . yeah." He extended his arm slowly toward the phone. "Stabler. . . . Alex, what's-- . . . I haven't typed it up yet . . . That's not til next week, isn't it? . . . Well, then, can't we--right now? . . ."

Olivia hovered nearby in case Elliot needed to consult her, or perhaps put her on the phone to answer an inquiry from Alex. Guess not, she deduced when he hung up.

She stared at her own phone, but it cursed her with its silence.

After a few minutes, she lifted up the receiver and checked for a dial tone. Yes, there was the familiar buzz. She carefully replaced the handset and resumed her review of a helpful witness statement ("average height, average build, blond or brown hair, or maybe black "), glancing every few seconds toward the annoyingly quiet device.

"Benson!" The captain stormed out of his office. "Go put a stop to this."

Olivia was only half-listening. "Hm?" she said, eying her phone again.

"Cabot likes you," Fin translated. "Go fucking get her to shut up."

"Precisely," Cragen said.

Belatedly, the name caught Olivia's attention. "What?"

"You heard me." Cragen stomped back into his office.

Olivia blinked. "Is he serious?"

Elliot's phone rang again, and he narrowed his eyes at her. "Get over there," he said sternly as he reached for it. "Alex," he said through an artificial smile. "What a pleasant surprise . . . ."

As she took the last few steps down the hall toward Alex's office, Olivia's brain was abuzz.

"There you are," Alex greeted her. "I just tried to reach you down at SVU."

Olivia shut and locked the door behind her.

"What are you doing?"

"I love that suit," Olivia said. "It's sexy as hell."

"Oh," Alex replied. "Well, thank you."

The brunette strode sensuously over to the desk. "No trial today, huh?"

"No . . . ." Alex seemed a little unsure of her friend's behavior.

Olivia leaned in close to her. "Must be frustrating, all that blood pumping, ready for the heat of battle, ready to go all the way," she breathed, "only to have it called off at the last minute."

Alex's eyes widened at the detective's nearness. "A little."

"More than a little, I'm guessing." Olivia punctuated her sentence with a subtle shift of her weight from one leg to the other, bringing her breasts even closer to Alex's face.

"Uh . . . ."

"Have you ever had sex in your office, Alex?"

"Not-" Alex stopped herself mid-sentence.

Olivia smiled. "Not yet?" Suddenly, she swung the blonde's chair around and straddled Alex's thighs. "No time like the present, as they say." She could feel Alex's breath on her throat.

"Olivia, what are you doing?" Alex asked. Her breathing was ragged, Olivia noted.

"Unbuttoning your blouse," she replied. Her fingers quickly did the job. "Caressing your breasts." Silky mounds filled her palms. "Kissing you." She swallowed Alex's moan.

She drew Alex into a standing position.

"Getting these out of the way." Without breaking off the kiss, she slid her fingers into Alex's panty hose and shoved them down her thighs as far as her arms could reach. Alex raised her right leg onto her chair, allowing Olivia to drag the hose the rest of the way, then did the same with the other. Within moments, the unwanted barrier lay in a heap on the ground.

Olivia spun Alex around and pinned her to the wall. "And this," she continued, shoving Alex's skirt up to her waist. "Any questions?"

"No," Alex panted.

"Do you know what I'm going to do now?"


"You don't?"

"Yes." Alex clasped Olivia's hips.

"I thought so," she whispered in Alex's ear. Sinking her teeth into Alex's throat, her right hand slid down Alex's thigh before slipping between her legs . . . .

When the detective zipped up her jeans later, Alex lay sprawled helplessly on the couch. Olivia felt happily roughed up a little herself. A scream in her ear against the wall, a bite to her shoulder blade on the floor, hands mindlessly clutching her hair on the sofa - all in all, a good day.

A great day. She slipped into her shoes. A terrific day.

Her return to SVU was greeted with much fanfare as well. "No calls for two hours," Elliot reported.

"You'll be blessed," Munch praised her.

"Well done, Benson," Cragen said, clapping her on the back.

`Now, see, that's what a good partner does for you," Fin said to Munch. "You say, `Olivia, go fucking get Cabot to shut up,' and she goes and does it."

"You say what?" Olivia asked.

"Go fucking get her to shut up." Fin seemed confused. "What'd you think we said?"

Olivia reddened slightly. "Um . . . that."

"Well, thanks for taking the heat for us," Elliot said.

A few searing images flashed into her brain. "Any time." Tonight, for instance. And tomorrow night, and the night after that . . . .

The End

Return to Law & Order Fiction

Return to Main Page