Shadow Of A Dream (1/?)
Title: Shadow Of A Dream
Pairing: Alex/Olivia
Rating: R-ish?
Word Count: 1269
Summary: Alex has a dream
Disclaimer: not mine, sadly
Author´ s Notes: this is my first attempt at writing alex/olivia and also the first fic that is actually longer than a drabble so i really hope you guys like it! oh and unfortunately i don´ t have a beta so all mistakes are mine ;)
Alexandra Cabot spends another night wandering around in her apartment. She has her hair loosely pulled up in a pony tail and wears her favourite pyjama bottoms-those with the little cupcakes all over them-and a grey sweater. Her left arm rests across her stomach. In her right hand she holds a glass of red wine which she is sipping on while she watches the first snowflakes touching the streets of New York. The blonde ADA shivers slightly. She takes another sip of her wine wishing it was hot eggnog and lets her thoughts wander. Last night she had the same dream she already had many times before, the same dream she first had a few months after she started working with the 1-6. It is always the same. It never changes.
:: She always sits in her office, going over some papers, a pen in her right hand, her left one playing with a strand of hair. Then she looks at her watch noticing it´ s already late and she really should be going home but instead of taking her jacket and briefcase, she always puts her pen down and leans back in her chair. Then she flips out of her high heels, wriggles her toes and puts her feet up on her desk. That´ s when she hears footsteps on the floor outside. They always stop in front of her office and then the door opens slowly. A woman steps inside and turns off the light, causing the office to lie in complete darkness only broken by the streetlights outside. She is never able to recognize her face but she is not scared. Instead she feels a swell of excitement floating through her body, making her heart rate speed up, sending shivers down her spine and finally settling in her lower abdomen. The woman standing by the door is almost invisible, just a shadow slowly, oh so slowly, strolling towards her, like a lion towards it´ s prey. Her eyes are fixed on the mysterious intruder and she can´ t help herself thinking that there is something about that walk, something about this barely noticeable sway of hips that she has definitely seen before. She feels her mouth getting dry, takes her feet off the table and sits up straight in her chair, stiff with anticipation. The dark figure moves closer, steps around her desk and stops a few inches in front of her. Now the urge to get closer to that woman gets overwhelming and she can feel her body aching to touch and be touched. But she never gets off her chair because something, some obscure knowledge, as powerful as the desperate need to feel, keeps her exactly where she is. Then, after what feels like an eternity, the woman moves again. She takes another step forward and is now so close that she can smell the faint scent of her shampoo and although she can not name what exactly it smells like, she just knows that it is a familiar scent and it draws her even stronger towards this mysterious woman. Then she forgets all about that scent because suddenly the softest lips brush against hers. The kiss is innocent, almost childlike and it feels like a warm summer breeze, like a whispered promise. When she pulls back slightly, careful not to destroy this magical moment, she opens her eyes to look into those of a stranger who yet feels so temptingly familiar. But just when she is about to finally recognize the woman´ s face, the dream fades away and she awakes, always feeling somewhat empty and alone. ::
The blonde ADA takes another sip of her wine, not at all surprised when she feels wetness pooling between her legs. Oh, what torturously delicious reactions the simple thought of this woman evokes in her body.
When she had this dream the first time she was confused and a little scared, not understanding how she could get so turned on by a complete stranger. She kept on telling herself that it was just a dream, that there was no reason at all to be ashamed or afraid even, but still she was. It took her some more nights with that exact dream and many more nights that she spent sleepless, to finally realize, the woman might not be as much of a stranger, as she thought. Realization hit her a year ago. The feeling that she knew her although she could never make out her face, the way she walked, the familiar scent, suddenly it all made sense.
A small smile plays across the features of Alex Cabot at the memory of how long it took her to realize something so god damn obvious. She takes a last look at the snowflakes and the whitening streets and then turns away from the window. She moves to sit on the couch and wraps a blanket tightly around herself-a useless attempt to feel a little less lonely. Yes, the blonde has a pretty good idea who exactly the “stranger” in her dream is. Unfortunately this knowledge doesn´ t help anything, doesn´ t make anything better. In fact it makes everything just way too complicated to handle and the Alex knows, just knows she can´ t possibly go on like this. So pouring herself another glass of wine she cuddles deeper into her blanket and begins thinking about a way out of the mess that became her life since she realized who exactly the woman, her subconscious so desperately aches for, is. Denial is no longer an option because she tried that for too long and the fact that she spends yet another night thinking, wishing, wondering but still alone, is evidence enough that it is not working all too well. She needs to do something. So she gathers all the courage that the wine, the deprival of sleep and her unfulfilled desires give her, finishes the last of her glass in one gulp and takes a piece of paper and a pen.
The next day she stops by the 16th precinct before hurrying to court and places a small envelope with a single piece of paper in it on a tidy desk.
The shadow of a dream-that´ s what my mother used to call it. It´ s what you remember of the dreams you have in your sleep. It´ s what you can´ t seem to forget about them. It´ s how subconscious and consciousness connect. It´ s what hunts you in your waking hours-the shadow of a dream. You are such a shadow for me. I had this dream about you and now I can´ t seem to get you out of my head. Each and every fight we have makes my heart rate speed up and my tummy all tingly. Every time our eyes meet I have to look away to not drown in yours. I have to deny most of the offers the guys make to join you at the bar just because I don´ t trust myself if I mix alcohol with the presence of you. And you know what? I am done with it. So I´ m telling you now: you´ re the shadow of my dream. You are so big a shadow you are overshadowing my whole life. I can´ t go on like this and I´ m done letting your shadow hunt me. So I am going to turn it all around. I am going to chase your shadow now and I am going to catch you Olivia Benson.
A. C.
Pairing: Alex/Olivia
Rating: R-ish?
Word Count: 1269
Summary: Alex has a dream
Disclaimer: not mine, sadly
Author´ s Notes: this is my first attempt at writing alex/olivia and also the first fic that is actually longer than a drabble so i really hope you guys like it! oh and unfortunately i don´ t have a beta so all mistakes are mine ;)
Alexandra Cabot spends another night wandering around in her apartment. She has her hair loosely pulled up in a pony tail and wears her favourite pyjama bottoms-those with the little cupcakes all over them-and a grey sweater. Her left arm rests across her stomach. In her right hand she holds a glass of red wine which she is sipping on while she watches the first snowflakes touching the streets of New York. The blonde ADA shivers slightly. She takes another sip of her wine wishing it was hot eggnog and lets her thoughts wander. Last night she had the same dream she already had many times before, the same dream she first had a few months after she started working with the 1-6. It is always the same. It never changes.
:: She always sits in her office, going over some papers, a pen in her right hand, her left one playing with a strand of hair. Then she looks at her watch noticing it´ s already late and she really should be going home but instead of taking her jacket and briefcase, she always puts her pen down and leans back in her chair. Then she flips out of her high heels, wriggles her toes and puts her feet up on her desk. That´ s when she hears footsteps on the floor outside. They always stop in front of her office and then the door opens slowly. A woman steps inside and turns off the light, causing the office to lie in complete darkness only broken by the streetlights outside. She is never able to recognize her face but she is not scared. Instead she feels a swell of excitement floating through her body, making her heart rate speed up, sending shivers down her spine and finally settling in her lower abdomen. The woman standing by the door is almost invisible, just a shadow slowly, oh so slowly, strolling towards her, like a lion towards it´ s prey. Her eyes are fixed on the mysterious intruder and she can´ t help herself thinking that there is something about that walk, something about this barely noticeable sway of hips that she has definitely seen before. She feels her mouth getting dry, takes her feet off the table and sits up straight in her chair, stiff with anticipation. The dark figure moves closer, steps around her desk and stops a few inches in front of her. Now the urge to get closer to that woman gets overwhelming and she can feel her body aching to touch and be touched. But she never gets off her chair because something, some obscure knowledge, as powerful as the desperate need to feel, keeps her exactly where she is. Then, after what feels like an eternity, the woman moves again. She takes another step forward and is now so close that she can smell the faint scent of her shampoo and although she can not name what exactly it smells like, she just knows that it is a familiar scent and it draws her even stronger towards this mysterious woman. Then she forgets all about that scent because suddenly the softest lips brush against hers. The kiss is innocent, almost childlike and it feels like a warm summer breeze, like a whispered promise. When she pulls back slightly, careful not to destroy this magical moment, she opens her eyes to look into those of a stranger who yet feels so temptingly familiar. But just when she is about to finally recognize the woman´ s face, the dream fades away and she awakes, always feeling somewhat empty and alone. ::
The blonde ADA takes another sip of her wine, not at all surprised when she feels wetness pooling between her legs. Oh, what torturously delicious reactions the simple thought of this woman evokes in her body.
When she had this dream the first time she was confused and a little scared, not understanding how she could get so turned on by a complete stranger. She kept on telling herself that it was just a dream, that there was no reason at all to be ashamed or afraid even, but still she was. It took her some more nights with that exact dream and many more nights that she spent sleepless, to finally realize, the woman might not be as much of a stranger, as she thought. Realization hit her a year ago. The feeling that she knew her although she could never make out her face, the way she walked, the familiar scent, suddenly it all made sense.
A small smile plays across the features of Alex Cabot at the memory of how long it took her to realize something so god damn obvious. She takes a last look at the snowflakes and the whitening streets and then turns away from the window. She moves to sit on the couch and wraps a blanket tightly around herself-a useless attempt to feel a little less lonely. Yes, the blonde has a pretty good idea who exactly the “stranger” in her dream is. Unfortunately this knowledge doesn´ t help anything, doesn´ t make anything better. In fact it makes everything just way too complicated to handle and the Alex knows, just knows she can´ t possibly go on like this. So pouring herself another glass of wine she cuddles deeper into her blanket and begins thinking about a way out of the mess that became her life since she realized who exactly the woman, her subconscious so desperately aches for, is. Denial is no longer an option because she tried that for too long and the fact that she spends yet another night thinking, wishing, wondering but still alone, is evidence enough that it is not working all too well. She needs to do something. So she gathers all the courage that the wine, the deprival of sleep and her unfulfilled desires give her, finishes the last of her glass in one gulp and takes a piece of paper and a pen.
The next day she stops by the 16th precinct before hurrying to court and places a small envelope with a single piece of paper in it on a tidy desk.
The shadow of a dream-that´ s what my mother used to call it. It´ s what you remember of the dreams you have in your sleep. It´ s what you can´ t seem to forget about them. It´ s how subconscious and consciousness connect. It´ s what hunts you in your waking hours-the shadow of a dream. You are such a shadow for me. I had this dream about you and now I can´ t seem to get you out of my head. Each and every fight we have makes my heart rate speed up and my tummy all tingly. Every time our eyes meet I have to look away to not drown in yours. I have to deny most of the offers the guys make to join you at the bar just because I don´ t trust myself if I mix alcohol with the presence of you. And you know what? I am done with it. So I´ m telling you now: you´ re the shadow of my dream. You are so big a shadow you are overshadowing my whole life. I can´ t go on like this and I´ m done letting your shadow hunt me. So I am going to turn it all around. I am going to chase your shadow now and I am going to catch you Olivia Benson.
A. C.