Shaken 2/?
Title: Shaken 2/?
Pairing: SVU A/O
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Alex and Olivia are not my characters. I try to do them justice (no pun intended), though.
Spoilers: For this chapter... Fallacy, Guilt, Wrong is Right, and Wrath.
Summary: This story opens immediately after the ending of Fallacy, so it starts out intense. They help each other make sense of the world of SVU, and their roles in it. They inspire, and grapple with grey areas of their lives and jobs.
AN 1: Thank you to ncruuk for beta-ing this story 3 years ago, and to scatterthebones for critiquing the first few chapters recently with such depth. And, I care about your engagement as a reader, so your critique is welcome as you read :)
AN 2: I started working on this story 3 years ago, but then RL got incredibly busy and I wasn't able to write. I will try my best to finish posting it this summer! But beware... if August rolls around and it's not done, there will be huge time gaps between chapters.
Chapter Two
“A glass of the syrah,” Olivia requested after the waitress sat them at a quiet table and asked what they wanted to drink.
“Scotch.” Alex had gathered both wine lists and now handed them back to the waitress, who nodded and went to the bar to place their orders.
“Scotch?” Olivia crossed her legs and raised her eyebrows, leaning against the back of her wooden chair, painted black. She unconsciously strummed her fingers on the table as she studied Alex.
“It’s been a hell of a day.” Alex leaned back against her chair, and crossed her arms. The normally astute lawyer was distressed to the point that she was unaware that Olivia was observing her. Yet her distress would go unnoticed by an untrained eye.
“Yeah,” agreed Olivia. She instinctively knew that the vulnerability and uncertainty Alex had exposed earlier was something the lawyer rarely showed anyone, including herself. It was an ambiguous case, and Alex liked certainty and exactness. Alex had once thought the law was stable and exact, and she had been devoted to its precision. The case she had just tried was gray. Olivia watched as Alex absently studied the white table cloth, then fiddled with the edge of her cloth napkin, and at that point Olivia decided to steer the conversation to simple things. “You know they make their own mixes and sodas here?”
“Really?”
“Yeah, they use fresh fruit for the mixes. In the summer they make great sangrias, really refreshing.”
The waitress arrived with their drinks. Olivia’s gaze softened as she watched Alex uncross her arms to reach for her glass, which she did not drink from but absentmindedly turned around and around. The dimness of the room’s lamp light cast Alex’s scotch a deep amber. The lamp light deepened the color of Olivia’s wine, and the color of Alex’s Ellen Tracy suit, which still befriended the Attorney’s form even as she slouched slightly from wearing the weight of such an emotional day. The softness of light lessened worried expressions and feelings of doubt, all of which had crept onto both women’s faces. The lighting shielded Alex from the full force of shock, soothing her emotions to a level she could handle. Sitting together, Alex and Olivia took a first sip of their drinks as their faces were enhanced by this glow. The shock of the day was quieted enough for them to face that shock.
“Look, Olivia, I really appreciate your intention to cheer me up. But I honestly, just feel awful. I don’t mean to kill the mood, but I just hate that…”
“That we live in a world where Cheryl might die tonight.” There, she said it. And as the words left her mouth, Olivia realized this was the conversation Alex needed. And Olivia needed it too. Few people understood the impact working at SVU could have on even the strongest, most determined and intelligent people.
“Yes.” Alex, who had been continuing to turn her glass around, took another sip.
“Alex, you tried to help her.”
“You mean when I met her to tell her to take the plea?” she laughed sarcastically. “That still sent her to prison. Plus, Morty gave her bad advice! I couldn’t very well stand back and do nothing.”
“A lot of lawyers would have done nothing.”
“Perhaps. I don’t know how they could have lived with themselves, though.”
“That’s why you’re a good lawyer. Alex… things aren’t always black or white.”
“Do you remember when Sam Cavanaugh o.d.ed?”
Olivia nodded, tilting her head curiously. “What made you think of him?” Alex smiled at Olivia’s quizzical look.
“I’m thinking of him because that case was the first time my morality truly contradicted the duties of my job.” She tucked a wisp of fallen hair behind her ear, trying to put something back where it belonged. “And also because my actions led to his fate. I’ve potentially played a part in destroying two lives now." Her tone switched from near resignation to frustrated helplessness. "How do you handle that?”
Olivia didn’t know what to say for long moments, as Alex now twirled the bracelet she wore and did not even attempt to assuage her own heartache. The feeling was palpable, the mainly empty table with its crisp, white tablecloth acted as its’ conduit by yielding space to the flow of heartache, now felt by both women. The waitress checked up on their orders. And suddenly Olivia thought of what to say.
“It does hurt, Alex.”
Alex looked up. “You’ve had to kill people in the line of duty.”
“Like that made it any easier...” Olivia laughed, thinking Alex was trying to qualify experiences that had shaken Olivia to her core. She twirled the stem of her wine glass.
“Liv, I didn’t mean it as a comparison. I just wasn’t realizing that you’ve faced this. Of course you’ve faced this.” Her voice softened as she recognized all that Olivia must understand and deal with. “It’s obvious. God, I’m so out of it tonight…” she said, shaking her head.
“People getting hurt is part of the job,” Olivia continued. “Mistakes get made. Our decisions impact peoples’ entire lives…” Images of past mistakes, hers and others, ran through her mind like a rolodex. “I killed Eric Plummer. He was innocent, but my testimony sent him to prison for rape. His life was hell for 7 years.” She rubbed the back of her neck, unconsciously relieving tension. “He got out and started killing victims I’d helped. He’d told me the gun was empty, when I caught up with him. But he was aiming it at a woman and he was about to pull the trigger, so I shot first. But his gun was empty.” She shivered slightly as she remembered.
“Then why do you do it, when the stakes are so high? When people get hurt?” Memories of Sam Cavanaugh lying in a hospital bed with a feeding tube attached to him, of Cheryl begging to not be taken to prison as guards forcibly led her out of the courtroom while she sat there, peppered Alex’s mind.
Olivia took another sip of wine and considered the question. She placed her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand. There was a dead man with an empty gun, a transsexual who was gang raped, an enormous price for mistakes, and rapists she knew were behind bars now.
“To help victims,” Olivia finally said, meeting Alex’s eyes. It was a simple, clear answer. And Olivia continued. “My mother was raped.” She gazed at her crystal wine glass as light either passed through the glass or was absorbed into the dark wine. “And she had me. She started drinking after the rape, so I know what it’s like for people when they live through that,” she shrugged, self-conscious still at her admission. She dealt with her past simply: by waiting to understand it, and trying to stop it from happening to anyone else. And while she wasn’t embarrassed, she hadn’t finished healing. “I became a cop to interrupt the cycle. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”
“I know that about you,” Alex stated. She had leaned forward to listen as Olivia was talking. Now she stared at Olivia, blue eyes pinning her, but with compassion and truth.
“About my past?” Olivia looked at her questioningly.
Alex looked back. “Yes, that. But I meant that I see your empathy with victims, and how hard you work to interrupt the cycle.” She leaned back in her seat, her gaze relaxing as she continued looking at Olivia and took another sip of her scotch. “And I knew about your past because I read your psych eval from the Morris Commission when I first started at SVU. You told the evaluator about your mother’s rape.”
“Huh…” Olivia mumbled, remembering the betrayal she’d felt by the NYPD when that entire investigation went down. Now, she also felt exposed. Alex had known something extremely personal about her before she'd chosen to reveal that information. “Well, that’s why I’m at SVU.”
Alex nodded, aware of Olivia's momentary awkwardness and not quite sure how to communicate the respect she felt. “I admire your empathy,” she finally said. It was not something she said often.
They were quiet for a long moment.
“I took the job purely to fulfill my political aspirations.” Alex smiled. “That was obviously some time ago.”
“So what changed?” Olivia smiled also.
“Well, I do still have political aspirations.”
“Maybe, but you risk them repeatedly.” Alex laughed at that, and so did Olivia.
“You know, I hate injustice. I always have. I just used to see it more theoretically.” Alex absently chewed her bottom lip and recognized her former logic. “Working at SVU will knock that out of you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, my plan was to help the victims and use SVU as a stepping stone for my political future. Then I tried my first case.” She finished her drink. “Michael Goran… do you remember that kid?” Olivia nodded. “He refused to acknowledge his abuse until he finally broke down, in agony, in court when I questioned him. He had to face nightmares he might not have been ready to face during that trial. Did testifying help him? I don’t know.” She tipped her empty glass to look through the bottom. “In a textbook it’d be no contest identifying who was right and who was wrong and what should be done: Michael was wrong for killing his stepfather, but his stepfather and his stepfather’s friends were wrong for abusing him, making the killing justified. So the kid testifies and the criminals go to jail. End of story, and everything is worked out.”
“No,” Olivia whispered. “That’s not how it works.”
“Right. That’s not how it works at all. And SVU teaches you that real fast. I’m glad he testified. I’m glad we nailed the bastards who hurt him. I just… was surprised by the pain, and the impact, I guess. What text book prepares you for that?” Alex twirled a wisp of her hair.
“Do you want out?” Olivia, who had entered SVU awake to its emotional complexity, asked.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I think the law is the best shot many victims have at justice.”
“You still think that, even after today?”
“I guess that I do. But I also don’t think the law served Cheryl today.”
Both women paused. They placed their glasses towards the edge of their table for the waitress to take as she brought their check.
“You know, our jobs are personal. Cragen helped me and Elliot realize that early on.” Olivia looked at Alex. “It’s the same for you.”
Alex looked at Olivia. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that what happened to Cheryl is personal - for you and for me. It should be if we’re doing our jobs right.”
“I’m still figuring out how to live with that," Alex said as they put on their coats.
“So am I,” Olivia smiled and started to get up. “You ready?”
“Yeah.” Alex put her credit card back in her wallet and they pushed in their chairs to leave.
As they opened the door and stepped into the cool air, the air smelling like the city after it rained, Alex momentarily grasped the sleeve of Olivia’s coat. “Thanks, Liv.”
“Anytime,” Olivia smiled.
Pairing: SVU A/O
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Alex and Olivia are not my characters. I try to do them justice (no pun intended), though.
Spoilers: For this chapter... Fallacy, Guilt, Wrong is Right, and Wrath.
Summary: This story opens immediately after the ending of Fallacy, so it starts out intense. They help each other make sense of the world of SVU, and their roles in it. They inspire, and grapple with grey areas of their lives and jobs.
AN 1: Thank you to ncruuk for beta-ing this story 3 years ago, and to scatterthebones for critiquing the first few chapters recently with such depth. And, I care about your engagement as a reader, so your critique is welcome as you read :)
AN 2: I started working on this story 3 years ago, but then RL got incredibly busy and I wasn't able to write. I will try my best to finish posting it this summer! But beware... if August rolls around and it's not done, there will be huge time gaps between chapters.
Chapter Two
“A glass of the syrah,” Olivia requested after the waitress sat them at a quiet table and asked what they wanted to drink.
“Scotch.” Alex had gathered both wine lists and now handed them back to the waitress, who nodded and went to the bar to place their orders.
“Scotch?” Olivia crossed her legs and raised her eyebrows, leaning against the back of her wooden chair, painted black. She unconsciously strummed her fingers on the table as she studied Alex.
“It’s been a hell of a day.” Alex leaned back against her chair, and crossed her arms. The normally astute lawyer was distressed to the point that she was unaware that Olivia was observing her. Yet her distress would go unnoticed by an untrained eye.
“Yeah,” agreed Olivia. She instinctively knew that the vulnerability and uncertainty Alex had exposed earlier was something the lawyer rarely showed anyone, including herself. It was an ambiguous case, and Alex liked certainty and exactness. Alex had once thought the law was stable and exact, and she had been devoted to its precision. The case she had just tried was gray. Olivia watched as Alex absently studied the white table cloth, then fiddled with the edge of her cloth napkin, and at that point Olivia decided to steer the conversation to simple things. “You know they make their own mixes and sodas here?”
“Really?”
“Yeah, they use fresh fruit for the mixes. In the summer they make great sangrias, really refreshing.”
The waitress arrived with their drinks. Olivia’s gaze softened as she watched Alex uncross her arms to reach for her glass, which she did not drink from but absentmindedly turned around and around. The dimness of the room’s lamp light cast Alex’s scotch a deep amber. The lamp light deepened the color of Olivia’s wine, and the color of Alex’s Ellen Tracy suit, which still befriended the Attorney’s form even as she slouched slightly from wearing the weight of such an emotional day. The softness of light lessened worried expressions and feelings of doubt, all of which had crept onto both women’s faces. The lighting shielded Alex from the full force of shock, soothing her emotions to a level she could handle. Sitting together, Alex and Olivia took a first sip of their drinks as their faces were enhanced by this glow. The shock of the day was quieted enough for them to face that shock.
“Look, Olivia, I really appreciate your intention to cheer me up. But I honestly, just feel awful. I don’t mean to kill the mood, but I just hate that…”
“That we live in a world where Cheryl might die tonight.” There, she said it. And as the words left her mouth, Olivia realized this was the conversation Alex needed. And Olivia needed it too. Few people understood the impact working at SVU could have on even the strongest, most determined and intelligent people.
“Yes.” Alex, who had been continuing to turn her glass around, took another sip.
“Alex, you tried to help her.”
“You mean when I met her to tell her to take the plea?” she laughed sarcastically. “That still sent her to prison. Plus, Morty gave her bad advice! I couldn’t very well stand back and do nothing.”
“A lot of lawyers would have done nothing.”
“Perhaps. I don’t know how they could have lived with themselves, though.”
“That’s why you’re a good lawyer. Alex… things aren’t always black or white.”
“Do you remember when Sam Cavanaugh o.d.ed?”
Olivia nodded, tilting her head curiously. “What made you think of him?” Alex smiled at Olivia’s quizzical look.
“I’m thinking of him because that case was the first time my morality truly contradicted the duties of my job.” She tucked a wisp of fallen hair behind her ear, trying to put something back where it belonged. “And also because my actions led to his fate. I’ve potentially played a part in destroying two lives now." Her tone switched from near resignation to frustrated helplessness. "How do you handle that?”
Olivia didn’t know what to say for long moments, as Alex now twirled the bracelet she wore and did not even attempt to assuage her own heartache. The feeling was palpable, the mainly empty table with its crisp, white tablecloth acted as its’ conduit by yielding space to the flow of heartache, now felt by both women. The waitress checked up on their orders. And suddenly Olivia thought of what to say.
“It does hurt, Alex.”
Alex looked up. “You’ve had to kill people in the line of duty.”
“Like that made it any easier...” Olivia laughed, thinking Alex was trying to qualify experiences that had shaken Olivia to her core. She twirled the stem of her wine glass.
“Liv, I didn’t mean it as a comparison. I just wasn’t realizing that you’ve faced this. Of course you’ve faced this.” Her voice softened as she recognized all that Olivia must understand and deal with. “It’s obvious. God, I’m so out of it tonight…” she said, shaking her head.
“People getting hurt is part of the job,” Olivia continued. “Mistakes get made. Our decisions impact peoples’ entire lives…” Images of past mistakes, hers and others, ran through her mind like a rolodex. “I killed Eric Plummer. He was innocent, but my testimony sent him to prison for rape. His life was hell for 7 years.” She rubbed the back of her neck, unconsciously relieving tension. “He got out and started killing victims I’d helped. He’d told me the gun was empty, when I caught up with him. But he was aiming it at a woman and he was about to pull the trigger, so I shot first. But his gun was empty.” She shivered slightly as she remembered.
“Then why do you do it, when the stakes are so high? When people get hurt?” Memories of Sam Cavanaugh lying in a hospital bed with a feeding tube attached to him, of Cheryl begging to not be taken to prison as guards forcibly led her out of the courtroom while she sat there, peppered Alex’s mind.
Olivia took another sip of wine and considered the question. She placed her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand. There was a dead man with an empty gun, a transsexual who was gang raped, an enormous price for mistakes, and rapists she knew were behind bars now.
“To help victims,” Olivia finally said, meeting Alex’s eyes. It was a simple, clear answer. And Olivia continued. “My mother was raped.” She gazed at her crystal wine glass as light either passed through the glass or was absorbed into the dark wine. “And she had me. She started drinking after the rape, so I know what it’s like for people when they live through that,” she shrugged, self-conscious still at her admission. She dealt with her past simply: by waiting to understand it, and trying to stop it from happening to anyone else. And while she wasn’t embarrassed, she hadn’t finished healing. “I became a cop to interrupt the cycle. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”
“I know that about you,” Alex stated. She had leaned forward to listen as Olivia was talking. Now she stared at Olivia, blue eyes pinning her, but with compassion and truth.
“About my past?” Olivia looked at her questioningly.
Alex looked back. “Yes, that. But I meant that I see your empathy with victims, and how hard you work to interrupt the cycle.” She leaned back in her seat, her gaze relaxing as she continued looking at Olivia and took another sip of her scotch. “And I knew about your past because I read your psych eval from the Morris Commission when I first started at SVU. You told the evaluator about your mother’s rape.”
“Huh…” Olivia mumbled, remembering the betrayal she’d felt by the NYPD when that entire investigation went down. Now, she also felt exposed. Alex had known something extremely personal about her before she'd chosen to reveal that information. “Well, that’s why I’m at SVU.”
Alex nodded, aware of Olivia's momentary awkwardness and not quite sure how to communicate the respect she felt. “I admire your empathy,” she finally said. It was not something she said often.
They were quiet for a long moment.
“I took the job purely to fulfill my political aspirations.” Alex smiled. “That was obviously some time ago.”
“So what changed?” Olivia smiled also.
“Well, I do still have political aspirations.”
“Maybe, but you risk them repeatedly.” Alex laughed at that, and so did Olivia.
“You know, I hate injustice. I always have. I just used to see it more theoretically.” Alex absently chewed her bottom lip and recognized her former logic. “Working at SVU will knock that out of you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, my plan was to help the victims and use SVU as a stepping stone for my political future. Then I tried my first case.” She finished her drink. “Michael Goran… do you remember that kid?” Olivia nodded. “He refused to acknowledge his abuse until he finally broke down, in agony, in court when I questioned him. He had to face nightmares he might not have been ready to face during that trial. Did testifying help him? I don’t know.” She tipped her empty glass to look through the bottom. “In a textbook it’d be no contest identifying who was right and who was wrong and what should be done: Michael was wrong for killing his stepfather, but his stepfather and his stepfather’s friends were wrong for abusing him, making the killing justified. So the kid testifies and the criminals go to jail. End of story, and everything is worked out.”
“No,” Olivia whispered. “That’s not how it works.”
“Right. That’s not how it works at all. And SVU teaches you that real fast. I’m glad he testified. I’m glad we nailed the bastards who hurt him. I just… was surprised by the pain, and the impact, I guess. What text book prepares you for that?” Alex twirled a wisp of her hair.
“Do you want out?” Olivia, who had entered SVU awake to its emotional complexity, asked.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I think the law is the best shot many victims have at justice.”
“You still think that, even after today?”
“I guess that I do. But I also don’t think the law served Cheryl today.”
Both women paused. They placed their glasses towards the edge of their table for the waitress to take as she brought their check.
“You know, our jobs are personal. Cragen helped me and Elliot realize that early on.” Olivia looked at Alex. “It’s the same for you.”
Alex looked at Olivia. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that what happened to Cheryl is personal - for you and for me. It should be if we’re doing our jobs right.”
“I’m still figuring out how to live with that," Alex said as they put on their coats.
“So am I,” Olivia smiled and started to get up. “You ready?”
“Yeah.” Alex put her credit card back in her wallet and they pushed in their chairs to leave.
As they opened the door and stepped into the cool air, the air smelling like the city after it rained, Alex momentarily grasped the sleeve of Olivia’s coat. “Thanks, Liv.”
“Anytime,” Olivia smiled.