UMBRELLAS IN BROOKLYN (from “Our Time in Eden”)
Start Date: 07/20/2004
Completion Date: 02/14/2005
Rating: NC17
AN: For those of you unfamiliar with Der Rosenkavalier, it’s a Richard Strauss opera. To make a long story short, the young Octavian leaves his older lover, the Marschallin, for an ingenue, Sophie. Incidentally, Octavian is a trousers role; personally, I love Brigitte Fassbaender’s portrayal. She kinda reminded me of Olivia.
For the last ten minutes, Alex stared across the short space between herself and her partner. Finally, she couldn’t stand it any longer. She had to say something. “Will you stop that?”
Olivia looked up from the little container of fruit. “Stop what?”
“You know what,” she responded, and cleared her throat, tearing her gaze from the drop of juice sliding from the melon down the long fingers.
“Enlighten me, Ms. O’Brien.” The brunette caught the sweet droplet with her tongue, and popped the chunk of fruit into her mouth.
Closing her eyes, Alex took a long, deep breath, then another. Finally, she was ready to handle the situation. Reaching over, she grabbed her partner’s wrist. “You’re eating with your hands.”
“Very observant.”
“You were in the bathroom,” she stated her case.
“So?” Olivia shrugged, and dipped her free hand into the bowl, moving the fruit around.
“Stop it!” The blonde yelped and batted at her partner’s fingers. Lowering her voice into a hushed whisper, she charged, “You didn’t wash your hands.”
“I didn’t use the bathroom. I didn’t even touch the door. In fact, the only thing I touched was…”
“Hush!” Alex warned. “Why are you eating with your hands?” She asked again.
Dark brows quirked. With a slight smile, Olivia replied, “To pay homage to my ancestors.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“My ancestors, I’m honoring them.”
The blonde knew she shouldn’t ask, but she did anyway. “And which one might those be?”
“My Bedouin ancestors,” the brunette answered in all seriousness, and picked up her baguette.
“I didn’t know you have any,” Alex countered slowly, intrigued by the vaguely familiar way her partner was scooping out the center of the bread. “I thought they were French by the way of Morocco…”
“Not that French. An eighth max.” Olivia tipped the crust into her entrée. With the help of her fingers, she filled it with grilled vegetables. “So I’m still honoring my roots,” she explained, then bit into her food.
“Fine.” Alex had to look away. Repositioning her own napkin, she reminded her partner, “Your mother was Italian, don’t forget.”
“Yes, and unlike you, most people eat pizza with their hands.”
“You’re not eating pizza.”
“Well, this is kinda like way bread.”
“It’s a baguette and you’re not from Middle Earth either.”
“What’s your point, Sweetheart?”
Alex could no longer hide her exasperation. “You’re eating with your hands!”
“You said that already.” The brunette said with the same slight smile. “What’s your problem?”
“I know your mother raised you with manners. I’ve seen you used them.”
“When did you become the etiquette police? I’m just enjoying my food.” She licked her fingers thoroughly to demonstrate her point. “Squisito, as my mom would say.”
“Will you stop that?”
“Why don’t you stop worrying about my table manners, and pay attention to your own food. It’s gonna get cold real fast.” Reaching over, she tried to test the temperature.
“Stop it, Olivia!” Alex blocked her partner’s move. “Why are you using your fingers instead of your fork?”
“The better to eat you with, My Love,” she finally replied, and grinned at the blush coloring her wife’s fair skin…
*******
The night was falling when Olivia finally got through packing her luggage for the trip. Stepping out of their bedroom door, she realized the rest of the house was still dark. She was about to call out to her wife, when she reached the landing, and heard the music drifting from below.
The melodic sounds from the piano brought back a flood of memories, as she recalled the first time she discovered Alex could sing and play the piano, that she had stopped because of her grandfather’s death. She set aside the sadness from that occasion, and remembered some of the subsequent times the blonde had sung, the much happier times.
Somehow, somewhere along the way, those occasions ceased, too. The brunette could never understood why. These days, her wife only sang when she was very happy, then, she would do so out of tune. Or when she was truly sad, like now.
“Anywhere you wander, anywhere you go, every day remember how I love you so. In your heart believe what in my heart I know, that forevermore I'll wait for you…”
The soft voice never failed to touch the brunette’s heart. The Michel Legrand melody returned her to that April night in Paris, when she proposed, and asked Alex to marry her for the first time. The immense, indescribable joy she felt when the blonde acquiesced. It was a lifetime ago, yet it felt like only yesterday.
“The clock will tick away the hours one by one. Then the time will come when all the waiting's done,” Alex continued to sing, unaware of her audience. “The time when you return and find me here and run straight to my waiting arms.”
Buried in the tender lyrics was such deep sorrow. Olivia looked down at the photograph she was holding, and felt the sharp pang in her chest. Determined to lift away the sadness, she began her descend.
“If it takes forever I will wait for you, for a thousand summers I will wait for you. Till you're here be-side me, till I'm touching you, and forevermore sharing your love…” Sensing her partner’s approaching presence, the blonde stopped.
“Non je ne pourrai jamais vivre sans toi.” Olivia picked up where her wife left off. “Je ne pourrai pas, ne pars pas, j'en mourrai. Un instant sans toi et je n'existe pas. Mais mon amour ne me quitte pas.“
Sitting down next to the blonde on the piano bench, she continued quietly, almost speaking the words, “Mon amour je t'attendrai toute ma vie. Reste près de moi. Reviens je t'en supplie. J'ai besoin de toi. Je veux vivre pour toi. Oh mon amour ne me quitte pas.” When she finished, she leaned in, and kissed the soft quivering lips gently.
When they broke apart, Alex sighed.
“Hey, guess what I found, while I was packing.”
“Where?” The blonde took the old photograph from her partner’s hand.
“In the book you were reading for me.” Olivia smiled, and brushed her thumbs across her wife’s cheeks. “Maybe you should stop using me as a bookmark.”
“I’ll lose you anyway.”
“Well, that’s not exactly a bad thing. I looked like Olive Oyl in that picture, with the silly bun and the red shirt. I still don’t know what I was thinking.” She tried to fill the silence. Finally, she pulled the trim frame close. “You won’t lose me, Sweetheart.”
“You sure?” Alex questioned in a small voice, burying her head against her partner’s shoulder. “You’ll be gone for so long.”
Somehow, she knew it wasn’t just about her extended trip abroad. “What’s wrong, Sweetheart? Talk to me. Please?”
“Sometimes, sometimes I look in the mirror, and I see the clock ticking away… And I realized I’m not Sophie anymore.”
“Nor am I Octavian, Alex. We’re not living Der Rosenkavalier.”
“You can’t tell me, Liv, that you haven’t noticed the way some of your students look at you.”
“So? I’ve had school girl crushes on my professors. I didn’t act on them. And I’d forget all about them when the semester was over, and usually before then.”
“What if someone who looks like me, the way I did when we first fell in love, came along?”
“But they’re not you.” Lifting her wife’s chin, the brunette placed a reassuring kiss on her lips. “I only want you. Don’t you know that by now? Besides, you’re more beautiful today than yesterday,” she said. That earned her a light chuckle.
“I think we need to get you new glasses.”
“Wasn’t it just last week when someone mistook you for Alexis’ sister?” Olivia mocked a pout. “Meanwhile, I guarantee you, people are gonna think I’m Livvie’s granny soon.”
“Don’t be silly.” Alex laughed lightly, and run her fingers through her partner’s hair. “You just look like you’re graying prematurely. Besides, you could always dye the streak out.”
“You kidding me? If I’m going to be accused of robbing the cradle, I might as well go all out!” She declared, and got a kiss on the nose in return.
“You exaggerate. Anyway, I like the Pepe le Pew look on you.”
“And Pepe’s crazy only about Fifi, remember? My little puddy tat?”
“Oh what? Now you’re Tweety?”
“I thought I was Woodstock. Are you accusing me of having a big head? Huh?” She teased, eliciting a bright giggle. “It’s all your fault you know, that I have a big head. And nobody’s gonna want me since I look so weird, so you’re totally stuck with me. And you’ll have to find me hats…”
“All right, you don’t have to be sillier than me.” Alex quieted her partner with a kiss. “I guess I just want reassurance now and then… that you still find me attractive.”
“I’m not the only one who finds you attractive, Sweetheart,” Olivia revealed. “Actually, you should be very proud of me.”
“Always, Liv.” She kissed the brunette again to seal her words. “Any reason or reasons in particular though?”
“I refrained from killing one of your students.”
“Why? What did he or she do?”
“He was telling his buddies,” Olivia began, then cleared her throated loudly. “How he wouldn’t mind and I quote ‘spending a night between your legs’.”
Fair brows went up in surprise and amusement. “When was this?”
“When he took your class in fall.” Suddenly, she was hesitating. “Um, a couple of weeks after school started.”
“Really? Who? Tell me, Liv.”
“I can’t.”
“Okay… was he in my last class?”
The brunette was adamant. “Can’t tell you that either, Sweetheart.”
So that would mean ‘yes’, Alex decided with a secret smile. Next, she asked, “Why?”
“Information obtained during confession?”
“So…” A change of tactic was in order. “You let him live this long?”
“I had a little talk with him.”
“Oh?”
“First, I agreed with him. Then I told him one of my daughters always introduces me to her friends as Mrs. O’Brien. You should’ve seen his face. He’d make a damn good traffic light.”
“Why won’t you tell me who?”
“’Cuz…”
“’Cuz what?”
“You might decide to grant his little wish. He’s a very handsome boy.”
“You’re goofy.”
“Goofy in love.”
Alex smiled, and kissed her partner.
“So are you going to tell me why you’re still so sad?” Even in the darkness of dusk, Olivia could see. She could sense the ‘disturbance in the force’.
The blonde began playing with her partner’s shirt buttons, twisting them in her fingers. “You’re going to be gone for so long.”
“Come with me.”
“I can’t. The kids, the firm, and what would your agent, your publisher and the people at your schools think?”
“The girls are old enough to take care of themselves. And Edith still cracks her whip every chance she gets,” Olivia tried her argument again. “Meanwhile, Ling will understand, the fort will still be standing when we get back.”
“And the other parties?”
It was the brunette’s turn to sigh. “I still think you should have been my agent.”
“Only fools have themselves as their lawyers and agents.”
Her wife had a point. Still, she complained, “I don’t wanna spend the summer without you.”
“Maybe I can fly over and visit once in a while.” Alex kissed, then tapped her partner gently on the nose. “And remind you that you belong to me.”
“Oh yeah, I do seem to be getting forgetful in my old age.”
“Better not be that forgetful!” This time, Alex thumped it hard.
“Ow. I may forget my own name, but I’ll always remember who has my heart,” Olivia said, and bent forward.
The blonde laughed, and soothed the injured spot with a small peck. “There! All better?”
“Now my lips hurt…”
“You’re so silly, and so full of mush.”
“I thought that’s why,” she breathed in between deepening kisses, “You fell in love with me, in the first place.”
Easing down the wooden lid, Alex repositioned herself to straddle her partner’s lap. “Make love to me.”
“Here?” Olivia smiled, sliding her hands up her wife’s shirt. “You gonna be my piano?”
“God. Your lines.”
“They still work, don’t they?”
She moaned, and shivered to the brunette’s probing touch.
“Tell me, Alex?”
Arching sharply, she exhaled, “You know they do…”
*******
The next morning came to soon. Alex had just settled at her desk when the intercom sounded, and Ling’s voice came through.
“Hey, meet me in the conference room.”
“Why?” She asked, reluctant to leave the sanctuary of her office.
“New client.”
“Can’t you get Greg or something? I really don’t…”
“Greg’s too green.”
“Not that green. He’s not my secretary anymore.”
“Yeah, well.” Ling’s tone was final.
“We just made him junior partner, remember?”
“No can do. It’s gotta be you,” she declared with barely controlled impatience.
“Why?”
“This client, she’s a major pain in the ass, all right? Nobody else wants to deal with her, and I’m freaking busy.”
Putting down her pen, and sighing loudly, Alex acquiesced. “Fine. I’ll be right there.”
*******
“What took you?” The shorter woman demanded immediately.
“I had to hang up the telephone and walk over…” She responded, the weight of the world’s sorrow and tears lay upon her heart. “Where’s the new client?”
“I’m talking to her, Pain in My Ass,” Ling said, and threw down a small binder on the large mahogany table.
“What?”
“Sit down, I don’t have all day, and you’re paying by the hour.” She flipped open the manila folder, and pointed at the post-it arrows. “I need you to sign here, here, and here.”
“Representation agreement?” Alex glanced at the title page, and looked up to intense brown eyes. “For what?”
“The firm is now representing Jaime O’Brien, the photographer. And I took the liberty of negotiating your engagement contract. Well, if you could call it negotiation,” she smiled her wicked toothy smile.
“With whom?”
“Olivia Benson, the crime novel writer. You’ve heard of her, I’m sure. And her people.”
Alex swore the woman’s freckles were jumping to her agitation. Still, she had to know. “What are the terms?”
“Just sign the stuff, and read it on the plane or something. Jesus, Alex. Your damn flight is in less than two hours. You don’t want to be a step behind Olivia’s lecture circuit the whole way, do you?”
“What about…”
“What about this! What about that!” Ling threw up her hands and started pacing. “What kind of best friend neighbor partner lawyer do you think I am?” A string of expletives in Chinese poured from her lips.
“Okay, okay. Keep your muzzle on.” The blonde seized the pen, and signed the papers obediently.
“Now, before I realize how much I need you to run the law firm, and how I dread dealing with your eighty year old drill sergeant,” Ling grabbed the copies for her file, and half shoved Alex out the door. “Get out of here!”
“Thank you!” Alex smiled, and hugged her friend. “I’ll bring you back a chew toy from Prada.”
“Get out, Alex! Out!”
The blonde didn’t need to be told again. In no time, she was on the way to the airport.
*******
“Hi.” The blonde smiled at her seatmate.
“Hello!” The other woman extended her arm. She shook Alex’s hand warmly. “You look familiar. Say, weren’t you in my Feminism and the Legal System class last semester at Sarah Lawrence?”
Flustered by the unexpected line of conversation, she replied, “Yeah, uh, Prof. Benson. Hi. I was only auditing; I didn’t think you’d remember me.”
“Of course I do. How could one forget a beautiful woman such as yourself.” She turned up the blonde’s palm and kissed it.
“Oh, Professor…”
“So tell me, what brings you to this neck of the woods?”
“Uh, I just got this assignment, my first really, as a press photographer for some hot shot writer.”
“You must be really good at what you do then.” She winked suggestively.
“I guess…” Alex blushed, unaccustomed to the brazen public display. “Um, don’t you think we should pay attention to the safety demonstration?” She suggested desperately. “And, can I have my hand back?”
“Of course, my apologies. But I shall miss it, it’s such a lovely hand. So warm and companionable.” Olivia smiled sincerely, and actually behaved herself.
*******
After the pilot turned off the fasten-seat-belt sign, Alex got up to go to the lavatory. She was hoping a few moments of solitude would help her regain her composure. As her partner’s intense staring had kept her off-centered since the beginning of the flight.
“Oh!” She exclaimed, surprised, when somebody’s foot prevented her from shutting the door. Poking her head out, she asked the owner of said offending body-part, “What are you doing?”
“I’m here on behalf of the membership committee.”
“Excuse me?”
“According to our records, your mile high club membership has been inactive for quite some time now.”
“You’re the membership police?”
“Dues auditor and collector.” Quite seriously, the brunette replied, and insinuated herself through the door. She then leaned in closer. “And perhaps you’d like to earn a few extra credits as well. Guarantee easy A in my class, if you know what I mean.”
“Prof. Benson, what would your wife say?”
“Nothing. She knows I have needs.”
“Oh?”
“Trust me, Mrs. Benson is a very understanding woman.”
“You don’t say.”
“Mmhmm…” Moving in boldly, she trapped Alex against the sink. “Besides, I know for a fact she used to spend many enchanting afternoons with a young fella.”
“Oh?” The blonde’s resolve was melting quickly. “A student?”
“Yes, a most prodigious boy. He name was Ben.” Olivia smiled, a picture of charm.
“And you didn’t mind?”
“No. My wife’s a very passionate woman. She has her needs, like I have mine right now.”
“I see…”
“So, what do you say, Ms…”
“O’Brien. Jaime O’Brien.”
She waited expectantly, her dark eyes holding Alex’s captive.
“I, I really don’t know…” She sucked in a deep ragged breath when Olivia brushed her palms sensually across her chest. Her body responded despite herself.
“My, Ms. O’Brien,” the brunette breathed, teasing the erect points between her fingers. “It seems like you could use some special attention.”
Consumed by the growing ache, Alex half whimpered, “What kind of special attention?”
“The very special kind reserved for the most beautiful young coed.”
“Beautiful coed?”
“Yes, especially a particular young blonde buxom coed.”
She whimpered again when the older woman’s hand slid up her skirt and grazed her skin.
“And such a luscious juicy coed at that.”
“God, Prof. Benson…” She moaned to the gentle touch.
“Tell me what you need, My Dear.”
“But I thought it was you who had the needs.”
“Oh, but I do,” she whispered, her breathe tickling her wife’s skin as she drew tiny circles with the tip of her fingers, around and around. “I feel to teach you everything I know.”
Alex could only moan in response.
“And you are such an eager and willing student.” As she glided higher and higher, she continued with her verbal seduction, “So receptive to learning.” She twirled her fingers around, and pushed. “Such a deep well yearning to be filled.”
Throatily, Alex groaned. She tried to capture her partner’s lips, hoping to stifle the noises threatening to bubble up her chest.
Pulling away, Olivia slowed her movements. “You know there’s a price you have to pay to kiss the teacher…”
“Anything, I’ll pay it.” She wanted desperately to keep the rhythm, “Please Liv, don’t do this to me.”
Olivia stopped altogether. “That’s Professor Benson. Don’t take liberties. That’s my privilege.”
“Please Professor. I need more instruction.”
“That’s my special good girl,” she praised, and slipped inside once more.
“Oh, professor, you’re so good.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
“Please, show me more.”
Parting her wife’s full lips with her tongue, Olivia kissed her. Deeply. Passionately. She mimicked the probing caresses with her fingers. Thrusting stronger, deeper. Keeping in time with the blonde’s rhythm.
Then, without warning, she stopped, and withdrew again. Completely.
“Professor, no…” Alex sobbed at the emptiness.
“Shhh… There shall be no talking in my class.”
Dropping her head against her partner’s shoulder, she let out a frustrated groan, and sighed loudly.
Firmly, but gently, Olivia instructed, “Turn around.”
She wanted to protest, but something in the dark brown orbs made her stop.
“I want you to watch yourself, Alex. And see what I see…”
*******
Their eyes met in the mirror.
Deep, loving eyes full of adoration, a depth of tenderness. They watched her as long fingers re-settled deep inside her.
She watched herself, her blue eyes stormy with need, her exposed chest heaving, her cheeks flushed, her teeth biting down on her lower lip. She looked vulnerable, attractive. Undeniably attractive.
She watched as dark head lowered to rest against her shoulder. Now all she could see were her partner’s eyes. She could feel the power of the legs keeping her open, keeping her upright. She marveled in the strength in the hand around her torso, and the gentleness of her reaching touch -- taking, territorial, owning.
She wanted nothing more than to be hers. She was hers.
When the momentum of passion overtook her, she parted her lips, moist, glistening, kiss-bruised lips. Still, she held her gaze steady, unembarrassed by the scene as brown eyes devoured her.
As they reached in, and claimed her. Body and Soul.
Yet, Olivia was the one who whimpered, when she crashed around the penetrating fingers. When she hugged and squeezed them tight, it was her name she heard.
“God, Alex…
“I love you, Alex…”
It was Olivia who murmured her devotion. Her voice caressing, hoarse with desire, pulling her in, keeping her safe… as she descended from her climax.
The gentle thrusting continued, holding her close, teasing the last waves of pleasure from her body.
Slowly, her partner lifted her head. Their gazes still locked. Her dark eyes soft and tender, her half-smile endearing and reassuring. “You are the beautiful love of my life, Alex. Nothing will change that, ever.”