The Seven Things I Love About Alex Cabot
Title: The Seven Things I Love About Alex Cabot
Fandom: SVU
Pairing: Alex/Olivia
Rating: M
- The way she can drink like a fish but still appear sober
Elliot and I are out having a drink with Alex after work. I’m on my fourth and Elliot’s on his third and we’re both a little drunk, but Alex has already downed three shots of tequila and she’s just as poised as ever. I’m at the point where I’m saying slightly vulgar things about Elliot’s soon-to-be ex-wife and he’s agreeing (something we only revert to when intoxicated) when Alex takes away the glass in front of me, pushing it out of my reach. “I think that’s enough for you.”
I stare at her, half in annoyance and half in awe. “How do you do that?”
She smiles. “How do I do what?”
“You’ve had three drinks and you act like you haven’t had a drop,” I tell her, too drunk to keep the envy out of my tone.
She laughs. “I hold my alcohol very well, Detective. As you see.”
“But how do you do it?”
Smirking, she replies, “Practice.”
- The way her political aspirations have all but died throughout the years we’ve spent working in SVU
This is probably the third time this week that I’ve asked Alex to bend (or break, depending on your definition) the law to fit my needs, and it’s only Tuesday. She groans. “I used to have a political career.”
“Yeah, well, that went out with yesterday’s garbage, Counselor,” I tell her unsympathetically. “Now could you please do what I asked?”
She rolls her eyes, but she does.
- The way she can reduce the worst monsters in our society to a blubbering mess with just one glance
Alex and I are sitting in an interrogation room with Trevor Langan and his client, a particularly sleazy villain who raped and murdered four little girls. “My client is invoking his right to remain silent,” says Trevor.
“Is he also invoking his right to deafness?” asks Alex dryly.
The client, Jose Rodriguez, squints as if what she’s just said is over his head. Which it probably is. This one’s not too bright.
Alex leans toward him so she’s invading his personal space. “Did those little girls scream while you wrapped your hands around their throats and squeezed? Did it make you feel powerful? Strong?”
Rodriguez is looking increasingly uncomfortable throughout this short soliloquy, and he finally presses his hands over his ears. “I did it, okay?” he bursts out. “Now leave me alone!”
Alex sits back in her chair, folding her arms over her chest with a self-satisfied smirk. She’s won this one and she knows it.
- The gentle way she undresses me during sex, like I’m a delicate china doll
We’re at my apartment after a tough case. She’s gently massaging my back, and maybe it’s the aftereffects of too much alcohol, but my body is yearning for more, more, more! “Alex,” I murmur, made all more brazen by the ingestion of liquid courage. “I want you. So much.”
She flashes me her gorgeous Alex Cabot smile and I suddenly can’t wait another moment. My hands fly to my blouse, but I’m too drunk and too nervous, and my hands are shaking. I can’t quite manage to pull my shirt over my head.
Alex watches me in quiet amusement for a moment before gently taking my hands in hers. “Let me,” she whispers.
I gladly give up the fight and rest my hands at my sides, standing perfectly still while she ever so slowly takes my shirt off, folds it up, and places it gently on my dresser. She runs her hands down my sides, eliciting a shiver.
She moves down to my jeans and slowly pulls them over my legs, again folding it and putting it on my dresser. She traces a finger over my right thigh, then moves back up to unclasp and remove my bra, teasing my nipples to attention.
By now, my body is screaming out for more contact and I moan, “Alex!”
I don’t think I’ll be able to hold out much longer, but she is very focused on the task at hand. By the time she gets down to my panties, which are absolutely drenched, there are tears in her eyes.
When I notice this, I gently remove her hands from my body, confused. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”
She shakes her head and wipes at her tears with the back of her hand. “Nothing.” She manages a small smile. “You’re just so beautiful. And I’m savoring the moment.”
Which makes it even better.
- Her relentless pursuit of justice
We’re sitting in the waiting room of the hospital after the Sam Cavanaugh case. The trial starts tomorrow and Alex thought she needed a reminder of what all this is for. So I’m there with her, for support.
When she sees the boy, lying helpless in the hospital bed, unable to even breathe on his own, she turns to me with a grim smile. “Now I know I did the right thing.”
“Even if it means a month’s suspension and an ass-chewing from Liz?”
She nods, a fire igniting in her clear blue eyes. “Now the son of a bitch will get what he deserves. And that makes it all worth it.”
- Her fifty-cent vocabulary of legalese
She’s running her soft hands over my bare skin, tracing patterns on my back, my thighs. Now she’s just being cruel, pulling her hands away every time I start to get too comfortable. I growl in frustration. “I need you, Alex!”
She laughs. “You need me?”
I nod emphatically.
“Where?”
God, she’s going to make me practically beg for it. “Inside me.”
That’s all she needs because a moment later, she is. Three fingers at once, thrusting inside my wetness as I scream my release.
She rides it out with me, then continues to tease me with her fingertips. “Do you like that, Detective?”
It’s the oddest thing in the world to hear her call me “detective” when we’re in bed together. I just moan in response.
She laughs. “Res ipsa loquitur.”
I push her hands away. “What the hell? I don’t need to hear Latin legal phrases when we’re having sex.”
She smiles. “That’s my answer. The thing speaks for itself.”
- Her bottomless blue eye and the black-framed glasses that cover them
We’re in bed together one night, holding each other, and I think maybe this is the greatest feeling in the entire world. I think Alex is asleep, but then out of the blue she says, “Olivia?”
I jump, but then settle back down. “Yeah?”
“Tell me a secret.”
I shake my head, not particularly understanding why she’s asking me to tell her a secret at three in the morning. “Um, I had my first kiss at the age of five. A boy on the playground was madly in love with me and kept trying to kiss me. He finally succeeded one day and I gave him a black eye.”
She laughs. “Now can I tell you a secret?”
“Sure.”
She turns toward me, grinning like a cat. “My vision is perfect.”