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Silly Thanksgiving Thing
"So, Olivia," Alex said casually, making a show of straightening her desk, "do you have any plans for Thanksgiving?"
The detective leaned contentedly against the back of the chair. "Not a one," she said with a smile. "I'm gonna cook something from a box, open a can of cranberry sauce, and watch football." She seemed pleased with the notion. "How about you?"
"Nothing special this year," Alex replied. "My mother's visiting her sister in Utah, so I thought I might, oh, maybe cook something from a box, open a can of cranberry sauce, and watch football."
Watching Olivia closely, her eyes narrowed when the brunette nodded her silent approval.
"I'm lousy in the kitchen, though," she added. "I always end up making too much, and then I have to throw it away."
"Ah," Olivia said.
Alex drummed her fingers on the desk. "I guess if my mother were there, I'd have someone else to eat the other half," she said.
"But she won't be."
"So there won't be anyone to eat half of what I cook."
Alex stared at her. "She's not really into football, anyway," she said.
"That's too bad," Olivia replied. "It's more fun to watch football with someone else."
"Yes, it is." Alex waited. "More fun if, for example, two people are watching together," she said. "In the same room." No response. "A couple of friends, for example. Maybe from work."
Sighing in defeat, Alex watched Olivia reluctantly get to her feet and head back to the squad room. She was still sulking when Donnelly strode into the office a short while later.
"What's with you?" Liz asked.
Alex let loose. "Your groundless theory that Olivia Benson is interested in me," she said. "I just gave her ten openings to suggest that we spend Thursday together, and what did I get? A big, fat--" She thrust a curled finger and thumb toward the other woman.
"You gave her a hint?" Donnelly asked.
"Several hints," Liz said, shaking her head. "You've been working with SVU for, what, two months now?"
"When you want Benson to pin down an eyewitness's statement, what do you say?"
"I say 'Olivia, go pin down the eyewitness's statement,'" Alex replied, not sure where this was going.
"And what do you say when you want her to search a suspect's apartment again?" Liz continued.
"I say, 'Go search the suspect's apartment again.'"
"And so . . . ?"
Oh . . .
The detective picked up on the second ring.
"Olivia, be at my apartment at 11 o'clock Thursday morning," she said. "Bring cranberry sauce and be prepared for possible sex."
Happily, Alex replaced the receiver. By next Thanksgiving, they would know each other better -- much better -- and she wouldn't have to be so direct.
Unless, of course, Olivia liked being ordered around.
She let herself drift into a daydream . . . .
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