APRIL IN PARIS

TITLE: APRIL IN PARIS

FANDOM: Law and Order SVU

PAIRING: Alex Cabot / Olivia Benson

DATE: March 4, 2004 to August 9, 2007

FEEDBACK: Yes, please. Feedback would make a girl very happy!

RATING: Adult. If same-sex relationships bother you, please read something else.

LEGAL STUFF: Non-original characters are used without permission under "Fair Use" doctrine. The author reserves all rights attached to all original aspects of this non-profit work of fiction. Please do not redistribute. Thank you!

SUMMARY FOR STORY: Three days in Paris

SPOILER: Post "Loss". There also might be other bits and pieces from various episodes.

1.

Olivia walked into the living room where Alex had just put down her luggage. “Hey!” She called.

“Yeah…” Alex answered, not bothering to look up, busily checking off a pre-departure to-do list.

“Sweetheart?”

“Yeah.”

“Will you come over here?”

Alex sighed, loud enough for her lover to hear. Reluctantly, she put down her pen, and joined the brunette by the couch. Seeing nothing was amiss, she asked, “Yes? What do you need?”

“Nothing.”

“Olivia?”

“Well,” she picked up the stuffed bear laying on the cushion. “Aren’t you bringing Tinka?”

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

“But…”

“Yes, Liv?”

“I thought you were…”

"No, I wasn’t. Why would I bring a stuffed toy to Paris?"

"Because I brought him all the way from your Mother's?” Olivia complained. “I thought you would want to take him along." She was surprised at her lover’s disinterest. Just the day before, she thought she would have to pry the bear out of Alex's arms. Now the blonde seemed to care less.

Alex stared at Olivia, her expression a cross between bemusement and annoyance. "I hadn't planned on it. My bags are completely packed. There's no room…”

“I can make room in my bags.” The brunette offer helpfully. “In fact, he can just go in the same bag I brought him in.”

“Don’t you think I'm a little old to be dragging a stuffed bear around France?" Alex’s exasperation was apparent in her voice. "Why do you care so much about whether Tinka's going with us?"

Olivia suddenly felt the need to defend herself. It had seemed a given that Alex would want to take her childhood toy with her. Now that she thought about it, the whole idea seemed absurd. The best she could come up with was, "I just thought you might like him to cuddle with." As soon as she said it, she realized how lame that explanation sounded. Why would Alex want a stuffed bear to cuddle with? Her lover wasn't six anymore.

Alex chuckled, clearly amused. "Aren't you going to cuddle with me?"

Olivia immediately reassured her, "Of course, I am. I just thought…" **What? Thought I’d be munificent and prove that I’m not jealous of a stupid bear? Great, just great.** Disgusted with herself, she sighed, harshly. “Oh, never mind. Forget I said anything.”

"C’mere,” Alex smiled and reached out for her lover. “As much as I love my childhood toy, why do I need Tinka when I have you?”

“Well…”

“Weren’t you going to wear the yellow smiley face shirt?”

“Only when we sleep.”

“Well, then it’s settled.” Alex kissed Olivia on the cheek. Then playfully, to show good will, she ruffled her hair. “Silly Tinka Rabbit.”

Olivia wore her lopsided goofy grin. It was good to be first. How could anyone be jealous of a stuffed bear? Damn, she could really be stupid sometimes, especially around her lover. Why was that? She wished she knew.

2.

Now that the bear issue was resolved, Alex returned to the kitchen counter. She picked up where she left off on the two page list of instructions and notes for Liz, making sure she had covered everything - the care and feeding of Oliver, getting the mail, handling phone messages, who to call if there were mechanical problems with the house or her car, and work related items.

After watching Alex for a few minutes, and against her better judgment, Olivia opened her mouth. "Hasn't Liz been here before?"

**What’s wrong with you? Don’t you see I’m trying to get ready and make sure I’m not forgetting last minute details? And that I don’t have time to answer a million unnecessary questions?** The blonde would love to ask. She reined in her temper and replied, "Yes, several times."

"Taking care of Oliver isn't rocket science, is it?" Olivia asked. She was only trying to get Alex to calm down and sit with her on the couch for some last minute necking before they left. Was she wrong? It would be a good way to spend their last few minutes alone together before the long flight. Going over a list of instructions for Liz was such a waste of time.

"I guess not."

“Then what’s the big deal? Feed the cat, dump his box, pick up the mail, check the messages, I’m sure Liz can do all of that in her sleep.”

“Yes, I’m sure you’re right.” Alex humored, wishing Olivia would leave her alone and let her finish with her check list. “Look, Liv, I’ll be done in a few minutes, and then all we have to do is wait for Liz to get there.”

"You've been over the list with her at least twice already, on the phone last night. And I'm sure you'll go over it with her again on the way to the airport."

"I had planned on it, what's your point?"

"We're going to be gone two weeks, Alex, not a year. It's just a vacation. And it's not like she can't reach us. We're going to France, not the Amazon."

"It never hurts to be prepared."

"Sweetheart, Liz isn't stupid; and Oliver is a cat, not a baby"

"I don't know; you certainly treat him like one, especially the way you talk to him.”

“Yeah, well. Hm. That’s different.”

“What are you trying to say, Olivia?"

"You're obsessing. This is supposed to be restful, not stressful."

"You deal with preparation your way, and I'll deal with it mine,” Alex said resolutely, her voice tight. “If I don't do this, I will be stressed. All right?"

Seeing the restrained blue fire in her lover’s eyes, Olivia shook her head and sat, careful not to flop too hard, lest Alex interpret that as a sign of anger. They were both passionate people. Many a fight had been fought over inconsequential things, stupid things, just like this. She had promised not to let them waste any more time fighting; so she conceded, "I guess if that's what it takes."

"I'm so glad I have your approval." Alex’s comment was soft but tinged with sarcasm.

At this point, it might be healthier and smarter to just sit quietly and wait for Liz, Olivia decided. She hoped one day she would just learn to keep her mouth shut from the get-go and let her lover do as she pleased.

That Olivia had given up so easily surprised Alex. She looked at the brunette, slightly puzzled, and unaccustomed to the lack of argument. They had certainly blown up at each other for much less than this, she recalled. Did her lover’s silence mean she was upset with her? Or worse, had she grown mellow because she was beginning to care less and taking things between them for granted? No, that didn’t make sense, not based on how Olivia had acted, jealous over a toy; Alex recognized that as a sign of insecurity and concluded the brunette must care. Then there were the thoughtful things she had done, picking Tinka up from Yonkers and bringing him, for instance… She sighed, feeling stupid, feeling bad.

Hearing her lover’s sigh, Olivia sat up. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing…”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“All right then…” Olivia didn’t really believe in her lover’s claim, but decided not to push.

She was sure the brunette would pursue harder; she normally would. "Are you upset with me?"

"No, Sweetheart. Of course not." Something in Alex’s voice made Olivia stand. She walked to the counter and wrapped her arms around the woman. “Why would you think that?”

The blonde shrugged. “I just want… I want the trip to be perfect.”

Olivia pressed a kiss to her lover’s head, just behind her ear. “I’m sure it will be.”

“If I make sure nothing goes wrong here, then we can be carefree, we won’t have anything to worry about.”

“Right. I’m sure you’ll find something,” the brunette teased. “And if you don’t, I’m sure I will.”

Unable to resist, Alex laughed and elbowed her lover in the gut. “Not nice.”

“I’d like to be nice, real nice,” Olivia whispered, brushing her lips against the shell of the blonde’s ear. Then she pulled away, and cleared her voice. “Are you okay? Is there anything I can do to help?"

3.

Drawing her lover’s arms tighter about herself, the blonde leaned back, and explained. “I hate it when we argue.”

“Me, too. But we didn’t argue, not this time.”

“But we disagreed.”

“But I left you alone.” Olivia insisted gently, “We agreed to disagree.”

“I guess…”

“We have better things to do than fight.”

Alex laughed lightly. “Make love, not war?”

“Man, your lines.”

“No worse than yours.”

Wagging her brows and wearing her signature grin, Olivia teased, “Oh, I don’t know, Alex…”

“You know what they say, Liv.”

“What?”

Blue eyes twinkled with delight. “You lie with dogs…”

“Hey! I don’t have fleas! And I’m singular!”

The blonde tapped her lover on the nose. “We’re being silly.”

“But we found your smile.” Olivia sighed happily, and added with tenderness, “Have I told you how much I need your smile?”

Alex exhaled, quietly. She eased away from her lover’s embrace and picked up the list. Resisting the compulsion to continue reading, she stuck the pieces of paper on the refrigerator door with magnets. Then she returned to Olivia’s side, and taking her hand, she led them away from the kitchen and into the living room.

"It's our first real trip together,” Alex began after they settled on the futon. “I just want everything to go right. I don't want you to hate it. Paris isn't your first choice…”

“You didn’t get to pick either.”

“But it’s my mother’s idea. She planned everything…”

“And I’m grateful. We could never have afforded a trip like this on our own.” **Or at least I couldn’t,** Olivia finished to herself.

“True.”

“But you think that’s beside the point,” the brunette speculated on her lover’s thought.

“I want to make sure it's really special."

“Like I told you, this is my first trip abroad, not counting Canada.”

“Which is why I want this to be special.”

"Sweetheart.” Olivia pulled Alex into a deeper cuddle. She pressed her lips lightly to fair tresses. “Don’t you know by now that anytime I’m with you, it’s special?”

“Liv…”

“I’m serious.” She felt the sharp pang of doubt clouding her lover’s blue eyes. “Whether it’s a walk along the Seine, or trekking through the jungles of the Amazon, I don’t care where we go, or where we are, as long as I’m with you.”

Alex was willing to be convinced. “Rain forests,” she corrected.

Olivia laughed. “Just making sure you’re paying attention. Anyway, you know what they say about April in Paris.”

“What?”

“It’s supposed to be the perfect time and place for lovers.”

“True.” Alex rested her head on Olivia's shoulder and snuggled into her.

**Score one for our team.** The brunette smiled. She was learning the right things to say at the right times. Her lover actually seemed relaxed at the moment, and that was rare. The woman had always been high strung, carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, and getting upset over all the injustices in the system. Suppose Alex’s conviction was one of the qualities that attracted her in the first place. Still… Maybe this vacation would do her good.

“Can I be honest with you?”

The small voice pulled Olivia from her musings. “Of course, Sweetheart. I insist.”

4.

“I’m worried.”

“Not again!”

“I’m serious!” Alex protested. “And this is really important.”

“Okay, I’m sorry.” Olivia offered, sincerely contrite. “Tell me, what’s bothering you.”

“You’ll think it’s stupid.”

“Why don’t you tell me first? Then I’ll decide it’s stu… Ouch!” A pinch to her thigh made her yelp. “Hey!”

“That’s for horses.”

“Boo.”

“Are you listening or not.”

“I am! But I can’t if you damage me.” Olivia rubbed her thigh for emphasis.

“Oh, if I wanted to damage you, it’d be much worse. Trust me.”

“No doubt.”

“We’re stalling, Liv. At least I am.”

**Are we both? I suppose…** On some level, the brunette was nervous. Why, she wasn’t sure. She just hoped whatever it was troubling her lover, she could solve. “Okay, let’s stop stalling. Tell me what’s bothering you.”

Alex sighed, and laced her fingers with Olivia’s, borrowing her strength. “We’ve never traveled together.”

“That’s not true. We went to Jersey. And Upstate. And there was Canada.”

“Yes, but not to France.”

“Yes, and it’s exciting!”

“Two weeks, Liv.”

“Fifteen days and fourteen nights, to be exact.”

“Exactly. Aren’t you worried?”

“About what, Sweetheart? How glorious our days and how even more glorious our nights are gonna be?”

“Well, that, too.”

Any hint of teasing disappeared entirely from Olivia’s face. “Huh?”

“People break up after they traveled together. ‘Cause they discover they simply can’t stand being with the other person for an extended period of time. Haven’t you heard the stories?”

The brunette felt she could exhale again. “That’s what you’re worried about?”

“Yeah? It’s serious!”

“Yes.” Quickly, she kissed away the blonde’s indignation. “But it’s not gonna happen, not to us.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Do you doubt us?”

“No,” Alex replied quickly. “But we’re going to be in Saumur most of the time. We’ll be stuck there. Just us.”

“And?”

“It’s a village. A small village. Tiny. It makes Albany look like a booming metropolis. I’m not even sure it has internet.”

“Yes, a village with a luxury B&B in a castle. A goddamn castle, Alex. Screw internet. Aren’t you excited?”

“Well, I’ve… I’ve been there before…”

“Well, then, you can be my tour guide. It’s perfect.”

“So you’re really not worried? You’re sure we’ll get along?”

“Well.” Olivia stroked her lover’s face, gently, full of tenderness. “Honestly? You know how we are. I can’t guarantee you we won’t fight. But I promise, we’ll survive, and we’ll enjoy the trip, together. And if I have my way…” She said, not intending to be out loud, thinking about the small box burning a hole in her luggage.

Staring down at their joined hands, Alex missed the faraway look in the brunette’s eyes, and interpreted her lover’s light words typically. She bumped her with her elbow. “Stop it! Liz will be here any minute.”

“Stop what?” Olivia laughed, covering her relief. “How do you know what I was thinking?”

“Oh, I know. I know you and your M.O.”

“You do, huh?” Capturing Alex’s other hand, the brunette raised both her arms over her head while leaning down, shifting their bodies, laughing, until she insinuated herself between her lover’s legs. “Tell me what’s my M.O.”

“Just shut up and kiss me, before Liz gets here.”

Happily, Olivia complied, setting aside her own worries for a later time…

5.

“Are you sure you don’t want the window?” Alex asked, standing by their seats.

“Yes, I’m sure you’ll want to look outside.”

“No, I’m going to sleep as soon as we take off.” Alex added with a smile, “This is your first trip over the Atlantic; you might want to check out the view...”

“I’m positive, Alex, I’ve flown before,” Olivia insisted, wanting the conversation to end, and hoping no one could over hear them. “I know how things look from above.”

“Over the ocean?”

“Water is water.” She pressed into her lover, to make room for the latest passing passenger. “I’ll be fine on the aisle.”

“Are you trying to be chivalrous or something taking the aisle? It’s really not necessary.”

Olivia sighed. “Sweetheart, sit down, please. I’m sure they’re going to board the rest of the plane soon.”

“All right. Suit yourself.” Alex shook her head and slid easily into her seat.

The brunette double checked their carryon to make sure their luggage was securely stowed. Almost warily, she sat and buckled herself in.

“You okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Olivia replied, looking directly into her lover’s eye. “Why?”

“I don’t know. You seem a little… tense? Are you nervous about flying? I didn’t think…”

“No, I’m not,” she cut Alex short. “We’ve flown together before. To Canada, remember?”

“Well, yes, but, you just seemed a little out of sorts.”

“Just anxious.” Olivia gave the blonde her cheesiest smile and whispered into her ear. “Can’t wait to get to the hotel, so we can pick up where we left off.” She was pleased when Alex sighed, and pulled her arms tighter around herself, as if to keep her passion at bay. Truth be known, the detective hated flying. She wasn’t afraid of it, just despised the waste of time, and having to occupy herself. If only Star Trek technology were real, and people could ‘beam’ from one place to another…

Sounds of Alex’s deepened breathing broke Olivia’s train of thoughts. **Huh. That was quick.** She looked at her lover’s features, so fair, and held back the temptation to touch, to stroke away the tension in her jaw.

What could be troubling her? The brunette wondered. Job? Life? It had only been a few months since Alex had to leave New York, scarcely half a year. Was that time enough to assimilate into a new identity? Olivia recalled watching her lover put in her colored contacts and then taking them off at the end of the day, as if it were all a part of her routine, like she had been doing it all along. Was that ease just part of the bigger lie? That somehow it was eating her up inside? **It’s got to be, right?**

Or maybe the blonde was stressed out because she wanted this vacation to be perfect? That she was truly worried that they wouldn’t get along? That this trip might spell disaster for their relationship had never occurred to the detective. Up until this morning, she had only thought about how Paris would bring them closer together still; and she had only dreamt of sealing their love and how magical that moment would be. And now? **What if she’s right?**

Gently, she reached over, and carefully spread her sweatshirt around the sleeping woman’s shoulders. For a brief instance, blue eyes opened to acknowledge the loving gesture. When they closed again, the tightness lining her face had dissolved into a light smile.

**Yeah, there’s no way.** Olivia smiled to herself, knowing it would take more than two weeks in a foreign country to rend their bond asunder.

Confident and happy with her conclusion, the detective spent the new few minutes looking around, checking for any suspicious behavior. Finding none, she stretched her legs as far as they would go, to try to reach the seat in front. Exercise, she would justify, should anyone question. Then she placed her elbows on the armrests of her seat, and marveled at how much room she had compared to coach. **Maybe a little too much.** She wrinkled her nose at the space between she and the blonde, and stared at the seat divider. Finally, she placed her hand underneath it and pushed. **Aha! That was easy.**

“Oops.” Olivia froze. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“That’s okay.” Alex finished raising the barrier and relaxed into her seat once more. She took her lover’s hand and laced their fingers in her lap. “Besides, this is much better.”

“Glad you approve.”

“Always wanted to do this,” the blonde sighed, placing her head on the detective’s shoulder. “When we traveled together before.”

“But we couldn’t.”

“No, Liv, we couldn’t.”

Silence loomed over the women. Olivia watched her lover’s fingers moving back and forth her own, and contemplated whether she should say something else. **But what?**

“You know?” Alex spoke, her voice quiet. “I’m glad.”

“Hm?”

She smiled, and lifted her head, just enough to brush a kiss to the detective’s cheek. Leaning back and pulling her lover’s arm around her shoulder, she stared out the window and said, “I’m glad we can now.”

“Even though…” Olivia began, not knowing how to ask her question.

“I don’t think either one of us would’ve willingly asked for a transfer,” Alex provided. “And we’d have to constantly worry about being found out.”

“It’d be stressful.”

“I’m sure at some point living in the closet would get to me.”

“I’m sure…”

“Do you not believe me?”

“I, uh, I don’t know…” Olivia replied truthfully. “I mean, it would get to me, too, but I think we could’ve done it, if we had to.”

“But we don’t have to worry about that now.”

“No, Sweetheart, we don’t,” Olivia accepted, pulling her lover tighter into her embrace.

Alex snuggled closer, as if to provide affirmation. “It’s a good thing.”

“Is it?”

“It is.” The blonde released a gentle breath, and closed her eyes. “Good night.”

“’Night,” Olivia whispered, pressing a kiss to her lover’s head.

“Good morning, passengers…” The pilot’s voice over the intercom signaled their approaching takeoff. By the time the flight attendants appeared to demonstrate the safety procedures, both women were dozing, contented and secure in each others company…

6.

Noises of people moving about filtered into Olivia’s consciousness. Slowly, she opened her eyes. The last thing she remembered was the captain’s greeting as the plane departed from the gate, and Alex bidding her good night. **Alex!**

A moment of panic seized Olivia as she could no longer feel the weight and warmth of her lover’s body. She jerked into total awareness. Then immediately she saw that the blonde had merely pulled away, that she was still soundly sleeping.

The detective watched the gentle rise and fall of her lover’s chest while focusing on her own exhale, and inhale. And exhale. Sometimes, most unexpectedly, she would find herself suffocating, overwhelmed by a sticky sea of dark red, the taste and smell of copper so palpable that she thought it was real. She would forget that the woman sitting beside her was alive, that she didn’t die by gun shot. PTSD, Huang would tell her, had she gone to see him. It was true; she was suffering from a mild form of it, Olivia had to admit.

With another deep inhale, she turned and pulled out the in flight magazine. It was quickly apparent she couldn’t concentrate enough to read, so she simply looked through the pictures. Somehow, dreaming about traveling with her lover helped. It always helped to think ahead, to imagine their lives together when Alex left Witness Protection. How they would decorate their living space, how wonderful it would be go to sleep and wake up in each other’s arms everyday, what they would do for vacation and the exotic places they would go. It was never about where their house would be, or what jobs they would hold, for then reality would intrude. Then she would have to wonder…

“Sweetheart?” She reached out, before she could stop herself. “Sweetheart!”

“Mmm?”

“It is really a good thing?”

“Is what a good thing?” Alex asked, her eyes still closed.

“Things as they are.”

“What things?”

“What we were talking about, earlier, you know, things between us.”

“Liv,” Alex laughed lightly, and searched blindly for the brunette. She bent her arm around her lover’s neck and pulled their heads together; and she pressed their mouths together…

“Wow,” Olivia gasped, when they pulled apart.

Alex licked her lips and smiled.

“What happened to…”

“PDA?”

“Yeah.”

“There are no rules against Jaime and Olivia loving each other,” Alex replied simply. “Not unless we impose them on ourselves.”

“No rules…” Olivia repeated. That didn’t help the detective, not with where her brain was.

“No rules,” the blonde reiterated. “Can I go back to sleep now?” When Olivia didn’t answer, she opened her eyes and searched her lover’s. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Liv…”

Olivia pressed her lips together, not sure how to begin. “Maybe now isn’t the right time to talk about this.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” she sighed. “I’m just not… It’s too premature.”

“Too premature,” Alex tried to read her lover’s face.

“We don’t know what’s gonna happen, tomorrow.”

“We’ll be in Paris tomorrow.”

“What about the day after tomorrow, what about six months, twelve months from now?”

“I see…” Alex inhaled. “I don’t know what’s going to happen either.”

“I don’t know that I like things as they are, on a permanent basis.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I don’t want to see you just once or twice a month.”

7.

Alex felt as if she could exhale again. She smiled. “I don’t want that either, Liv. I’ll miss you too much.”

“You will?” Olivia asked, and earned a whap on her arm.

“Of course.”

“Me, too, miss you, I mean, worse and worse each day,” she whispered, just in case anyone could hear over the roar of the engine.

“Mushy. But appreciated.”

“You mean you don’t?” Olivia teased. Suddenly, it was easier again for the detective to breathe. Rather than dreadful darkness, there was light at the end. “Miss me worse and worse?”

“Each day, each hour, each minute we’re apart.”

“Not seconds?”

“Liv!” Alex laughed. “Now you’re being ridiculous.”

“Sweetheart?”

The reservation in Olivia’s voice made the blonde pause. “Yes?”

“I, uh, I just want you to know…”

“When the day comes, and you can, um, make decisions… I will stand by them.”

“I’d hope so.”

“No, I mean, I will go wherever you decide to be.”

“Liv?”

“I’m serious.”

“Should we be talking about this?” Alex hedged; there were so many unknowns. There were so many things they would have to decide, and none should be done on a plane. “We don’t know what’s going to happen…” She stopped.

“Too premature, like I said.”

“All right, sorry I asked.”

“I’m not.” Olivia snuggled in. “Now I know how much you miss me.” She wrapped her arms around her lover’s waist. “And how you feel about public display.”

Instinctively, Alex trapped the brunette’s hands. “Liv…”

“How do you feel about the mile high?”

“I know you. You won’t.”

“Are you sure?”

She squeezed her lover’s fingers, to stop their light stroking. “Yes, you’re bluffing.”

“Are you calling?”

“Yes, I mean, no. No!”

Olivia laughed, and kissed the blonde’s cheek. “You’re beautiful, when you blush.”

“Shut up.”

“But you are…”

“I mean it,” Alex warned, and took a steadying breath.

“All right, you don’t blush. You’re beautiful though.”

“Thank you.”

“No club membership?”

“No, Liv, And if you don’t stop, I swear, I’ll… I’ll…”

“Empty threats,” the detective teased. “But I’ll stop.”

Before they settle into more respectable sitting arrangements, Olivia stole another kiss, breathing into her lover’s soul, “I love you, Sweetheart.”

“Love you, too, Liv.”

8.

The takeoff was smooth and uneventful; the seat belt sign had been off for a while and the flight attendants delivered their drinks and snacks. Olivia glanced at her slumbering lover, and sighed, and returned to the popular novel she bought at the airport. Two seconds later, she closed the page and stared at the cover.

Angels and Demons. This was the first and last time she picked up any book without reading the synopsis. Fictional thriller or not, the detective did not want to read about the Vatican. Twelve years of catholic school, seventeen counting kindergarten and college, was more than enough religion for anybody. Quickly, before her mind traveled to the past, she slammed shut the mental box, and set it aside. Simultaneously, she shoved the paperback into the seat pocket, with every intention to leaving it there for the cleaning crew or the next passenger.

Restless and bored, she reached for her lover. Momentarily, the blonde opened her eyes. She smiled, and pulled her hand away from Olivia’s to caress her cheek. The detective leaned in to the touch of Alex’s fingers, caught them with her own and placed a kiss in her open palm.

“I love you,” the brunette mouthed. In return, she received a look of unabashed love. Too soon, the beautiful blue eyes fluttered closed. With another deep sigh, Olivia set up the small television and attempted to watch the featured comedy. Before long, she caught herself staring blankly at the screen, and took off the headset.

“But Mommy, you have to look, there’s a big boat in the water,” a little girl pleaded.

“Yes, Dear,” an adult replied.

From the direction of the voices, Olivia knew it had to be the mother and child sitting a few rows behind them. She remembered thinking that the girl had the brightest green eyes and the cutest smile, and if she had a child who looked like that, she would be worried every minute she was out of her sight. Damn occupational hazard, she thought then. Now, her boredom made her latch onto the conversation.

“But Mommy, the boat, it’s huge!”

“Yes, Darling. I’m sure it’s a ship, and not a boat.”

Olivia frowned. Could a person show any less disinterest than this woman? Serena Benson was never that cold, at least not when she was sober. And when she was drunk, sometimes, she would become so overbearingly clingy that the brunette wished the woman would quit smothering her and let go…

“Mommy, please, look? There’s a big ship.”

“Angela, please be quiet.”

“But it must be really big, if I can see it from the plane.”

“Angela,” the woman replied sternly. “Other people are trying to sleep, and Mommy is trying to finish her report.”

“Yes, Mommy, I’m sorry,” the girl replied in a small voice.

“Good. Now why don’t you read the books your daddy bought you?”

“Yes, Mommy.”

Then it was back to the engine noise for Olivia. **What a grouch!** The detective thought to herself; she could imagine the disappointment written all over the child’s face and she wanted to turn around and give the mother a piece of her mind. It wasn’t like they were going anywhere. How much more work could she accomplishment during the few seconds it would have taken her to look out the window?

**But it’s really none of my business,** the brunette chided herself. Besides, what if they got into a verbal altercation? She could just see that happening, and the last thing she wanted to do was draw attention to the two of them. **Especially Alex,** she was convinced.

**It did sound sort of cool though, that the kid could see a ship from this high up,** Olivia decided. **Must be a cruise ship. Or a tanker. Or, maybe even an aircraft carrier…** Before she knew it, she had loosened her seatbelt. As far as she could, the detective leaned towards the window, careful not to disturb her lover.

**Just a little bit more.** She licked her lips and bent further forward…

9.

**Oh, shit.** The detective held her breath and waited for her lover’s next move. Lucky for her, Alex merely stirred and shifted closer to the window. Breathing a silent sigh of relief, Olivia took advantage of the extra room and pressed on, hoping to see the ship that had so captivated the little girl.

**Damn it!** She cursed, still only seeing the sky.

Checking to see how much space she had to maneuver, and to make sure Alex was still asleep, Olivia looked down. Her gaze halted at the valley of soft skin. **Hello!

**Whoa!** Reflexively, she squeezed her eyelids shut. **What’s wrong with you, Benson?** She thought guiltily. **You’re not a teenage boy with your first set of tits!**

No sooner than that thought disappeared, another surfaced. **But why should I stop? It’s not like she’s a stranger. We’re together. And I’ve done more than look.** She smiled, and opened her eyes, allowing them to roam, to caress the creamy flesh. It wasn’t like anyone could see her. Besides, there were no rules, right? They were on vacation, and nobody would care beyond the fact that they were two women in love. **I’m sure Alex won’t mind,** she justified, and moved closer. Unable to stop herself, she lowered her head, hoping to catch the sweet scent that was her lover’s perfume.

“Olivia.”

A deep voice stilled the brunette in mid-inhale. She coughed in her throat.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Alex whispered snappishly.

“Umm… Trying to look out the window?”

“The window is over here.” Alex captured Olivia’s chin and directed to her right. “Not down there. I can’t believe…” The blonde complained in an undertone.

“Well…” Olivia stammered, feeling like an adolescent caught looking at an issue of Playboy. Still, she couldn’t help but look back. When she did, she noticed the pink glow on her lover’s skin. “I got distracted by a better view,” she offered with a sheepish grin.

“I can’t take you anywhere.”

“What d’you mean?”

“You’re a grown woman and a sex crime detective. You can control yourself.”

“Are you saying it’s a crime to look?”

Putting on a dour face, Alex claimed, “It’s harassment.”

“Really. You’re saying my attention is unwelcomed?”

“I’m saying you shouldn’t be doing what you were doing, at least not in public.”

“Nobody saw me. And even if they did, they would’ve just assumed I was looking out the window, which I was,” the detective argued, her voice growing confident.

”Olivia.”

“It’s really not my fault, when you put that kind of temptation in front of me,” the brunette offered in her defense.

“Fine,” Alex said, while closing the top buttons on her shirt and pulling the sweatshirt up once again around her shoulders. “I’ve removed temptation.” She finally let her smile out, beaming sweetly at her lover. “That should help. Yes?”

“That’s not fair, Sweetheart,” the detective whispered her protest loudly. “It was just a little peek.”

“A little peek, Olivia? You were drooling.”

“You’re no fun. You should be flattered.”

“I am. And you need to behave.”

“Why?”

“You just need to.”

“Oh? I need to?” Olivia smirked.

“Behave, now, and when we get to the hotel you can misbehave all you want.”

“All I want?”

Alex sighed, and crossed her arms. “And all I want,” she admitted. “All right?”

“That’s what I wanted to hear.”

“Now will you behave? And let me sleep? You should, too, or jet lag will kill you later.”

“But I’m not sleepy.”

“Then read your book.”

“It’s boring.” Olivia couldn’t keep the whine from her voice.

With a gentle smile, Alex uncrossed her arms, and pulled her lover near. “C’mere,” she coaxed, as she drew the brunette’s head to rest on her shoulder. “Breathe with me.”

“Alex…”

She pressed a soft kiss to dark hair. “Come on, let’s try.”

Releasing a light, inarticulated sound, the detective obliged, closing her eyes and letting her lover’s breathing guide her own…

10.

**Cushy.** The detective sighed, feeling the weight of her limbs settling into the thickly padded seats. **Guess they weren’t kidding about the comforts of home.** Briefly, she opened her eyes, to make sure their seatbelts were fastened over their blankets; then her eyelids dropped again and she let her thoughts drift. Against the roar of the engine, she thought she could hear voices, voices of people she had long forgotten, from a time of her life she had carefully filed away…

Suddenly, she was seventeen again, wandering around and around on Siena campus, looking for something… someone… Who? She couldn’t remember. Then she found Lindsay, yeah, that was the woman’s name. She was blonde, like Alex; and she was politically minded, just like Alex…

It was registration day, and the sociology major was running around all over campus, talking to professors and upperclassmen, trying to figure out what courses to take, and which ones she could test out of... And Lindsay was one of the people she talked to. She was a junior, a poli-sci major, a woman who invited Olivia to join her for a drink later that night. Clearly, she didn’t know Olivia was underage. With her fake ID, no one knew she was just seventeen; besides, she could hold her liquor better than any adult she had met, definitely better than her mom. **Mom…**

Oh, Lindsay, right. Of course Olivia had accepted the invitation. She looked forward to seeing her new friend and getting to know her better, much better. And it was afternoon already. And she hurried back to her dorm room and dropped her heavy backpack full of text books on the floor of her closet. She would put them away later, when she had more time. She did, however, take the minute to pin her class schedule over her desk top. Once done, she grabbed her towels and went down the very long hall, and up and down the winding stairs, to the girls’ shower. She stood under the hot water forever. Then she was back in her room, dressed in what seemed to be her uniform of faded jeans, black tee, and jean jacket. Sitting back, she waited for Lindsay’s call.

Precisely at eight o’clock, her cell phone rang; she flipped open the clam shell cover. “Benson,” she replied automatically.

“Olivia? It’s Lindsay Carpenter, from this morning.”

“Yeah, I didn’t forget.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t. First day of registration is always insane.”

“Yeah, it is. Are we still on?”

“Sure, pick you up in front of your house in half. Okay?”

“Perfect. See you then,” Olivia agreed and put the receiver back in its cradle.

That evening, Lindsay had introduced the brunette to her group of friends. She spent the evening answering and asking questions, interrogating each person until she was satisfied that she knew everything about everyone in the group. All of Lindsay’s friends were politically and socially aware, each had an ambitious plan for the future, and all seemed mature and responsible people, people Serena Benson would approve of.

The semester flew by. For Olivia, school had settled into a drudgery of studying, papers and tests. When she wasn’t burdened with homework, she looked forward to meeting her friends at the Odyssey for drinks. They would discuss whatever the current hot button topic, each expressing their very individual opinions, but always managing to find common ground. Until one night…

The detective was back at Odyssey again. It still looked the same, being the only gay bar within seventeen miles of Siena. The bar was crowded. Still, the gender line was distinctly drawn. The girls were on the right and the boys were on the left. Or maybe it was the other way around, Olivia couldn’t tell. It was too dark. Anyway, a long bar ran the length of one end of the club, the rest of the space was filled with tables surrounding a small dance floor, which was also a raised stage.

“Let’s hear it for Angel,” an announcer called.

The brunette stared at her beer and pretended she couldn’t hear the music. She refused to look at the dancer, determined not to see her face. She was ignoring even Lindsay. Instead, she focused on the monotone roaring. Somehow, she found herself in a smaller space; it was closing in on her. She felt warm. Comfortably warm. And soft. Maybe she was buzzed on beer. How many had she had? For the life of her, she couldn’t remember.

“I have every right to say what I want, when I want, and where I want,” a voice said. She couldn’t recognize the voice, not at first. Then she realized she had heard it before, and she mouthed the words with the speaker.

“These freaks should all be rounded up and put in a cage.

“There’s plenty wrong with your damn lifestyle or you wouldn’t be called fucking queers would you?” The voice bellowed. The loud roaring, the cacophony of music, conversation, and dancing, and everything suddenly stopped. Suddenly, everything was quiet; but not for long.

“If you don’t like it, maybe you should fuckin’ leave,” someone yelled back.

“This is a public bar and I can drink wherever I want.”

“Freedom fries for everyone,” Olivia yelled, hoping to drown out the man’s next sentence. “Or freedom toasts. How’bout it? Freedom toasts!”

“It’s a damn free country,” he said, over her call for snacks. “Just certain things shouldn’t be so free.”

**Shit, shit, shit.** The seventeen year old squeezed her eyes tight. **See no evil, hear no evil,** she chanted to herself. Unfortunately, her prayers were in vain.

One of the groups took special offence to the man’s commentary and approached his table. A tall, muscular blonde leaned over him menacingly. “Why don’t you and your friends take your business some place else,” he suggested.

“Go to hell, fagboy. I’m not afraid of you!”

“What did you say?”

“You’re nothing but a bunch of damn pansies,” he continued his tirade of slurs. “Guys fucking other guys, mincing around like goddamn sissy boys.”

“Jeff,” Olivia tried to warn the stranger. “Shut up. You need to shut up, right now.”

“You shut up, dyke! Yeah, you.” The man turned away from her and towards the muscled blonde again. “Screw you! Everyone’s got to be so damn politically correct these days. God forbid we have an opinion, and even worse if we say something. It might hurt your delicate little feelings. You assholes make me wanna puke. We used to know how to deal with your kind in this country.”

“Our kind?” The blonde drawled, taking a few steps closer, now almost nose to nose with the loud mouth. “What do you mean by that?”

**Shit, shit, shit…** Olivia knew this wasn’t going to end well. People were going to leave, and she was going to be the only witness, without any backup, she just knew. And she would be called to testify and she would make mistakes in her testimony, and Alex would lose the case, and she would never ever forgive her…

“Come on, Jeff, we’re out of here. Come on!” The drunk man’s friends tried to pull him along by the arm. “Just let it go.”

11.

Jeff shook himself free of his friend’s hand, slurring, “I’m talkin’ here. I’m not leaving here just because you’re afraid of some damn faggot. I thought you had more balls than that. Go on, go on without me.”

“Come on, Jeff, leave,” Olivia chimed in under her breath.

“Chicken shit,” he spat, staring right at her. “I’ll find my own way home. I don’t need any of you.”

“You should go and take your friend home while you still can,” one of the other young men behind the blonde said evenly.

“I’m not going anywhere. Blondie here asked me a question. I’m gonna tell him. Get outta here, I don’t need you. I don’t need anybody to whip this fairy’s ass,” Jeff answered drunkenly. “Now where was I? Oh yeah…”

“Yeah, enlighten me, mudfucker.”

“After I’m done kicking the crap out of you, I’ll dump you in the gutter on the side of the road. Right where you belong, I tell you, goddamn, fucking faggots!” Jeff continued to yell, making sure no one missed how he felt.

Then it happened, right before Olivia’s eyes. As if in a blur, Jeff charged the blonde, who evaded the attack. He turned and grabbed the drunk’s head and slammed it against the table. The man yelped, in pain, as fists from everywhere rained on him, as hands with invisible owners held him down. Olivia screamed in silent horror when the men pulled off his pants, and rammed a beer bottle up his ass.

“You like it, huh?” The blonde taunted as he pumped the bottle, his arm muscles bulging and larger than the seventeen year old freshman remembered. “Look at him, boys,” he addressed his friends with a smug smile. “Seems like Jeffy here just needed to find the right man.”

“Hear, hear!” The other patrons roared. “Do him, Danny, show him what he’s missing!” They cheered him on.

“What d’you say, Girlie?” The one they called Danny, the blonde, turned to Olivia and ask. “You wanna see me do him? Wanna see me give him the ride of his life? Like someone did your mom?”

She was too stunned to reply.

Jeff whimpered which Danny took as an invitation. He pulled out the bottle and forced himself on the smaller man.

“You know, Girlie, how many times have you heard his kind tell you, that you’d only need to find the right man? Well, consider this a payback, a favor I’m doing for you,” Danny punctuated each word with a violent thrust. “Yeah? You like this?” He panted. “You pack, Girlie? Maybe you wanna do this yourself?”

Screaming, Olivia heard screaming, and crying, “No, no, no, stop it, don’t.” Jeff in her mother’s voice, pleading, “Stop, don’t hurt my baby, stop. Please, stop, my baby, baby…”

“Shut him up, Alan.” The blonde ordered one of his friends, his voice cutting through the brunette’s confusion. “Give him something to drink, he looks thirsty.” He grunted through clinched teeth.

Another man stepped up. He grabbed a pitcher of beer and pulling the guy’s head back by his hair, he proceeded to pour beer down his throat drowning out the screams, leaving only the roar in Olivia’s head.

She closed her eyes momentarily, to shut out the pounding in her head. When she could see again, the bar was empty, completely, except for her and Lindsay. She grabbed the blonde woman’s arm. “We’ve got to get out of here and call the cops. Come on.

“Snap out of it,” she ordered, when her friend refused to budge.

Then, as if she had no will of her own, no doubt too stunned by the tragedy she had just witnessed, Lindsay followed Olivia.

As soon as they got to her car, however, she seemed to have her senses back and was once again in control. Before Olivia knew it, they were barreling away from the scene.

“Where are we going?” The brunette asked.

“Back to my house.”

“Your house? We should go to the cops.”

“We’ll call from there.”

“But I…”

“You need to come with me. You know, just in case somebody’s following us.”

“What about the guy, Jeff? What about him? He needs help!”

“You can’t do anything to help him now, except get yourself beaten up, or worse. That Danny’s crazy. I’m gonna call the cops and report what happened and they’ll take care of everything,” Lindsay said with an Alex smile, and disappeared.

After several minutes, the blonde came out of a door and informed Olivia, “I called the police and explained everything. Just told them I was a witness and wanted to remain anonymous. They said they would look into it.”

“I think we should go back and check on that guy. He may really be hurt.”

“The cops were headed right over. I’m sure they’ll call an ambulance if the guy needs help.”

“How can you be so complacent?” The brunette demanded.

12

“What do you think you can do for him that the cops can’t?” Lindsay asked. She looked at Olivia with concern written all over her face. “The first thing they’ll do is spend all night grilling you, and hold you as a material witness. They’ll call your Mom. You might even lose your scholarship.” She stopped to let those possibilities sink into the brunette’s brain. “Do you really want that?”

“No, of course not, but…”

“They’ll get the info they need from the bartender and waiters.”

“I suppose…”

“This whole thing really stinks. I’m sure they’re going to use what happened to Loud Mouth as an excuse to shut down the bar.”

“What’s wrong with you, Lindsay? They raped him.”

“Yeah? Didn’t you hear what he said about gays?”

“What he said, Lindsay, were just words; and he was drunk,” Olivia tried to argue. “He didn’t deserve what they did to him. I’ve got to go,” she said, attempting to stand.

With both hands on the brunette’s shoulders, Lindsay forced her to sit. “You’re not really going to the cops, are you?”

“I’ve got to. What if the people at the bar refuse to cooperate? Besides it happened right before my eyes, I should be the one…”

The blonde interrupted, “And what makes you so sure the cops will believe your account more than anyone else’s.”

“Because I’m a customer and I don’t stand to gain or lose anything from telling the truth.”

“Yeah, right,” she snickered. “This is not LA, Olivia, you can’t just pretend to be the caped crusader…”

“But I’m a cop!” The younger woman blurted.

“Can’t you just butt out and let the real police do their job?”

“But I’m,” Olivia started to argue, and then remembered that she was only a student. “All right, I understand if you don’t want to get involved but I have to,” the freshman said evenly.

“So that’s how you’re gonna be.” Lindsay sighed, her voice sounding suddenly like Alex’s. “I should’ve known,” she said, disapproval apparent in her voice.

“What? What d’you mean?”

“Look, Liv, I have an uncle who’s a judge, let me call him. If you’re lucky, he won’t find you guilty.”

“Guilty? Guilty about what? I didn’t rape the guy…”

“I know.” Lindsay/Alex now touched the brunette comfortably on the shoulder. “Just let me make the call, all right? Momma will handle everything. You’ll be all right. Trust me.”

**Momma?** Olivia blinked. **What the…?** She didn’t pursue further, as the constant roar in her ears made it difficult for her to think.

How much time had passed, she didn’t know. It had felt like forever when Lindsay returned, looking like a ghost of Alex, complete with glasses and a suit. If the brunette had noticed the change, or been surprised by it, she didn’t show.

“We’re in luck, my uncle asked we give him time to get dressed and he’ll be by to pick us up. He understood the situation completely. Said he’ll take care of everything.”

“That’s a relief.”

“You want something to drink while we wait, Liv? Coffee or a soda or something?”

“Sure, coffee would be great.”

Two cups of steaming coffee miraculously appeared before the detective. She took hers and sipped.

“This stuff’s really bitter.” She grimaced.

“Sorry, we keep a pot on most of the time, it gets kind of strong. You want something for it? Maybe milk or and sugar?”

“No, that’s okay. Thank you though.” Olivia yawned. “Hm. Excuse me.”

“That’s all right. Drink up,” Alex offered. “It’ll help you stay awake.”

“Thanks, Baby,” she said, and tossed the coffee back. After she returned the cup to the table, she looked up, and saw that Lindsay was herself again. “I’m sorry. I meant…” She tried to complete her thoughts but failed miserably. “What did you put in my coffee?”

“Why, Olivia, what do you mean?”

“Just really sleepy,” the brunette replied, her voice slurring and her vision was blurred. Shaking her head, she attempted to focus, to concentrate, but ended up a heap in the too comfortable sofa chair. “You drugged me… Why, Lindsay? Why?”

13

“Orange juice or water? Would you like juice or water?” Olivia thought she heard, and she tried to raise her hand.

“What would you like, Miss?” The man asked.

Before she could reply, she came to, coughing and spluttering. Her mouth and nose were full of water; she felt as if she were drowning. Struggling desperately to breathe, the brunette fought her way back to some sense of clarity. Trying to wipe her eyes with her hands was no use; they were tied securely behind her back. Shaking her head back and forth, she managed to clear her vision enough to get a badly blurred version of the world around her.

She was lying on a hard packed dirt floor with bits of straw scattered around. From the look of the wooden walls and roof around her she was in an old barn. She shivered, not only because of her wet clothing.

Meanwhile, Lindsay stood over her holding a now empty bucket. Her smirk was aggravating, just like Alex’s could be. “Well, well,” she said, sliding her Robert Marc glasses up the bridge of her nose.

Grunting, Olivia attempted to get up and realized not only were her hands tied, but her feet were as well.

First they drugged her and now she was trussed up like a pig to slaughter. If this was some sort of weird hazing ritual she had had enough. “Lindsay, what the hell is going on? If this is your sick idea of a joke, it’s not funny. Untie me, right now,” the brunette demanded angrily. She struggled with as much strength as she could muster, twisting her hands one way and then the other all to no avail. She was bound.

“Liv, Liv,” the blonde sighed. “Why do you bother? Don’t you know Danny was a Boy Scout? He tied you up good, and you’re not going anywhere.”

“Danny? What do you mean? Let me go damn it!” Olivia demanded in frustration. She never saw the kick coming until she was propelled across the floor. Desperately, the brunette tried to roll away from the next kick, but the shiny black wingtip caught her in the soft section just below her ribs. Her body curling into a ball, she gasped for air and felt as if someone had caved in the entire side of her body. “Alex… Alex…” She whimpered for the only person she could trust in the world.

“Shut up, bitch!” A familiar voice ordered.

“Langan?” The brunette managed to raise her head enough to see the tall defense attorney leering down at her. In her mind though, she knew he was Danny, the rapist from the Odyssey. “Lindsay? Help…” Olivia managed to croak out to her friend. Pain filled her body as the wingtip shoe kicked her once more.

“I said shut up, bitch. Are you deaf, stupid, or both?” He taunted her. “Linds, why don’t you let me get rid of her already and be done with it?”

Before he could pull back his foot to strike Olivia again, Lindsay, now looking strangely like a blonde Casey, interjected, “Stop it, Danny. That’s enough.” Let me think a minute.”

“But Sis…”

**Sis?** Olivia closed her eyes and willed her nightmare to end.

“Nobody at the club is going to say anything about Loud Mouth,” Lindsay / Casey delivered as she paced back and forth, as she would in a courtroom. “Maybe I can convince her not to either. Like it never happened, right, Olivia? Absolutely nothing happened, that’s what you will tell the jury, if you want to live.”

“What’s wrong with you… Lindsay?” She addressed her schoolmate and forced the ADA out of the picture. “This guy,” she refused to look beyond the dress shoes and pinstripe pants, “Is a rapist, and now he wants to commit murder. How many crimes are you going to let him get away with?”

“As many as I need to.”

“How can you say that? How can you cover for him?”

“Because he’s my brother, Olivia,” Lindsay said in Alex’s Aunt Martha’s voice. “He’s blood. Blood, Olivia. Don’t you remember what I told you?”

“Blood doesn’t justify murder!”

“Blood justifies everything!” Martha said resolutely, as if her words were edict from Heaven. “You’d be surprised what people are willing to do for love. Rape. Murder. Anything.”

“No! Never!” Olivia stared at the older woman until she dissolved. “Lindsay!” She ordered, but Alex appeared instead.

“I’m not going to see him go to jail for taking apart that piece of shit. Poor Danny, he’s had to live with bigots all our lives. Self righteous hypocrites. If you want to live in the closet, Liv, that’s your prerogative, but Danny shouldn’t have to…” She reached for her brother and touched him caressingly on his face. “Poor, poor, Dannyboy…” Then she kissed him open-mouthed.

The brunette’s stomach rolled at the scene. “Stop it, stop it, all of you!”

“Stop yourself, Bitch!” Danny stepped forward menacingly.

At least he was himself again, wearing chaps and jeans and boots. Unfortunately, Olivia was also positive he would simply kick her until she was both unrecognizable and very dead.

“Linds, I told you. She ain’t ever gonna cooperate.” He smiled a vicious smile. “Just let me get it over with. I’ll be quick and she won’t suffer much, I promise.”

“I know he’s your brother, Lindsay,” the brunette reasoned with her best hostage negotiation voice. “He needs help. Let me go and I’ll make sure he gets a fair trial. I’ll make sure he gets the help he needs.”

“You’re the one who needs help, Detective,” the upperclassman replied coolly.

Olivia shook her head in disbelief. How could anybody protect someone so ruthless and cold blooded? It was beyond her comprehension. “What about all your talks about working through the system and changing things for the better from within? Didn’t you mean what you said?”

“You’re not going to take him away from me, Liv. I can’t let you do that.”

14.

“Listen to me, Lindsay,” Olivia refused to give up. She had to live, to live so she could grow up and fall in love with Alex. “Alex…” She muttered. **Alex will listen to me,** she decided, and hoping to conjure her lover, to shut out the other blonde. “Alex… Alex?”

“Yes, Liv?”

Against the roaring, Olivia heard the reply. **What’s that noise?** She wondered. **What could possibly be making that noise in a barn? I am in a barn, aren’t I?”

“Liv! Hey!”

She tried to look around, to find the source of the sound, when she felt a hand on her shoulder, a hand too warm, its touch too gentle, to be Lindsay or Danny’s. She looked down to see slender, elegant fingers pushing against her, shaking her. Then white light blinded her eyes. She blinked.

“Finally,” Alex whispered.

“What?” Olivia shook her head, to make sure she was awake, that she was sitting in an airplane and not bound up in dirt. “What’s going on?”

“You were dreaming.”

“I was? Oh, yeah, I was.”

“Juice or water?” The flight attendant walked by.

“Water, please,” Olivia requested, and turned to Alex. “Would you like…?”

“No, thanks, I’m fine.” With amazement, the blonde watched her lover gulp down the first, then a second and a third glass of water, until the man offered to bring her her very own bottle. “Are you okay?” She asked, when Olivia finally leaned back into her seat.

“Yeah, sure, why?”

“Trying to make sure you’d float should the plane fall into the ocean?”

“Very funny, haha.”

“Bad dream?”

There was no point in denying it, the brunette knew. So she nodded and released a long sigh. “Weird dream. And not so good.”

“You know, you’re not allowed to have bad dreams, especially not on vacation.”

“Right, like I can control my dreams.”

“Care to share?”

“Oh, I’m not sure I remember now,” the detective fibbed, taking her lover’s hand and brushing their fingers together to hide her twitchiness. “It was confusing, really.”

“Was I in it?”

“Why?”

“’Cause you were calling my name?” Alex replied, with a small smile, as if indulging her lover’s white lie. “That’s the only reason why I woke you up.”

“I see,”

“Look, you don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to.”

Despite the blonde’s offer, Olivia knew better. “You weren’t there, not really, and I wanted, I needed your help.”

“Really? With what?”

“I don’t know. I can’t remember. But I’m glad you woke me up.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Poor, Baby,” Alex cooed, and brought Olivia’s head to her chest. “Everything’s all right now, it was just a dream. Come, Honey, Momma will make it all better…”

15.

**Momma?** Leering at her lover’s bosom, Olivia wondered out loud, “Momma?” She was going to make some smart aleck comment when she saw the hands embracing her shoulders. They were thin, arthritic hands covered with wrinkles and aged spots. Then she saw the big gold cross dangling over the high collar shirt. “Nonna?” She whispered hesitantly, afraid to look up.

“Oh, bambina…”

“Nonna?” Suddenly, Olivia was four again, the summer Serena Benson got so ill that her grandparents took her in so that her mother could recover. Did she in reality check into a rehab? Was that another attempt to cure her of her sin? The brunette never knew. “Nonna?”

“Just a bad dream, mia cara,” her grandmother cooed. “You awake now; you safe.”

“Nonna?” The little dark-hair girl shivered, and clung on to her grandmother’s warmth. “What did I do?” She asked, remembering another nightmare, “Am I being punished?”

“Cara?”

“Why do you hate me?”

“Shut up!” A man yelled.

Olivia turned towards the voice. Suddenly, she was back in the barn again, hogtied and bruised. “Danny! What d’you do with my nonna?”

“Stop it, Liv,” Alex / Lindsay appeared. “Don’t provoke him.”

“What’s going on?”

“Oh, I’ll tell you what’s going on.” Danny smiled a sickly, slimy Trevor smile. “I’m going to kill you, and cut you into little pieces so no one can find you.”

“Yeah, right.” Absurdly, Olivia found it more annoying than frightening. It was surreal. This boy was talking about killing her as if it were a trip to the movies or the candy store. “Get on with it then.” What difference did it make anyway? Her own grandmother hated her, and they shared more than a drop of blood.

“Let me think, Danny.” The blonde chewed on her glasses and crossed her arms. “We can’t just kill her. How many dead bodies do you think we can hide around here? I can’t keep covering up for you. Somebody’s going to find out eventually. Then what do you expect me to do?”

**How many people has he killed? I’m not the first?** Olivia thought as if she were already dead. **What happened to Jeff? Was that even his name? Was he raped?** Suddenly, her memory grew hazy. **Did they stick him in some shallow hole in the ground?**

Despite Olivia’s best efforts to keep a clear head and not panic, fear began to creep its way into the front of her brain. She fought down the rising bile in her throat and struggled to keep a grip on her sanity. If she panicked now she was lost; the brunette knew she had to hold on as long as she could. There had to be some way out of this; she refused to give up.

“Come with me, Danny.”

“But sis,” again he whined like a child.

“She’s not going anywhere and I need to talk to you,” she said as she began pulling her brother off to the side, to somewhere the brunette could not see.

At first, they argued, Olivia could tell by the tone of their voices. **Good.** The more they argued the better chance she had of surviving. Maybe someone would report her missing. **Maybe Hank would.** She could always count on him to knock on her door to make sure she got back to the dorms all right after partying all night.

**Or maybe he hates me now, too…** A wave of self-pity hit the brunette. **Guess I’m on my own. No surprise there.**

Twisting her wrists and arms, Olivia tried to loosen her bindings and felt them give a little. That gave her hope. The ropes were rubbing her skin raw, but she paid little attention to that as she worked the individual loops looser and looser. Maybe with luck she could get them off before the crazy pair returned. When she heard their footsteps, she stopped struggling and remained still as they approached.

Danny pulled a knife from his pocket and flipped it open to reveal a deadly blade. With purpose, as if to show Olivia how sharp the weapon was, he sliced open his own palm and sucked on the spraying blood. Involuntarily, the brunette closed her eyes and waited for the worst. To her surprise, all he did was to bend down and cut the ropes that bound them together.

She was surprised when he pulled her roughly to her feet. “Don’t give me any trouble, bitch, or I’ll stick you here and now. I don’t care what my sister says. You understand?” He snarled at her.

“I’ll watch her, Danny,” Lindsay said and laughed cruelly. “Go, go get your boyfriend.”

Before Olivia could blink, Danny came back dragging Jeff with him. The young man looked half dead; obviously they had worked him over pretty badly in addition to raping him. Without a word, the blonde pushed his victim at Olivia. She tried not to flinch and used her shoulder to help him stand.

“Bring them along, brother dear.”

They walked out of a door at the side of the barn. In front of Olivia was what appeared to be a huge dog run; and as they drew nearer, she saw her assumption was correct. The snarling and snapping assured the brunette that her worst fears were confirmed. Pulling back, she cringed at the sight of the pack of half starved mongrels grinning at her through the fence.

She didn’t know which was worse, the fear knotting her insides or the disgust and revulsion at the sight of such cruelty. The fear won out before she gained control of her lurching stomach and she heaved. When she looked down, she saw human bones littering the ground, some still had pieces of decomposing muscle and flesh clinging in shreds. Hers and Jeff’s fate was suddenly clear.

**Live, Live,** she told herself, even though she knew her chances of survival were slim. She didn’t want to die, not yet.

“Live, Liv,” she heard her lover’s voice cheering her on, as she took off running.

“Cara, don’t leave that boy, he hurt,” her grandmother scolded disapprovingly, her voice pulling Olivia back, holding her like chains. “Cara?”

“Get away from me!” She screamed and kicked at the sharp teeth sinking into her skin. “Get away from me!” She didn’t want to die, not like this.

“Live,” her lover whispered in her ear as the dogs dragged her to the ground. “Live.”

“I’m trying, Alex, I’m trying,” she cried, shaking her head.

16.

“Liv!”

“Alex…” The brunette mumbled. Then she felt the hand on her shoulder, shaking her. Then she heard the roar of the plane engine, over her lover’s insistent whisper of her name. Almost with a start, she opened her eyes, to see the blonde peering at her intently. “God,” she groaned.

“Finally.”

“Huh? What?” Olivia looked past the expression of concern on Alex’s face, to focus on the interior of the plane, hoping her embarrassment wouldn’t show. Thank goodness it had only been a dream.

“I’ve been trying to wake you.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sorry. But thank you.”

“Bad dream?”

“Yeah,” Olivia admitted quietly.

“Want to talk about it?” Alex asked.

“It was just a dream, Sweetheart.” The brunette tried to pass it off lightly. “It’s really not necessary.”

“You were calling for your mother.”

“Oh, that? Actually, it was my grandmother,” the brunette revealed, not really wanting to, but unable to stop herself. “Part of the dream, I dreamt about my grandmother.”

“Your grandmother?” Alex was surprised. This was the first time Olivia had mentioned the woman. She supposed Serena had parents, she just assumed they died before her lover was born.

“Yes,” Olivia replied, staring down at her hands.

“What was she like?” The blonde followed the brunette’s gaze. “Or do you not want to talk about it?” Her heart skipped when misty brown eyes finally met hers. “Liv?” She spoke softly, as if trying not to scare away the frightened rabbit that was her lover. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Olivia sighed and hung her head. She yearned to fall into her lover’s embrace, and let her hold her world together, like when her mother died. **But the plane’s full of people,** she told herself. **She wouldn’t… We shouldn’t…**

“Liv?”

“It was… it was just a bad dream, Alex. It wasn’t real. None of it was,” she lied, more to herself. Then slender fingers were touching and raising her chin; then they brushed along the curve of her quivering lips. “Sweetheart, don’t. Please.”

Alex was having none of that. Wordlessly, she drew her arm about her lover’s shoulders and pulled her in. When the brunette resisted, she soothed, “It’s all right. Come on.”

“There are people…”

“No rules, remember? Besides, I doubt anyone can see us.”

Perhaps by chance, or by Celine Cabot’s design, the rows directly around them were empty. Alex was right, no one would see them, not unless they hit the call button for service. With a soft sigh, Olivia yielded. She burrowed closer against the pillowing softness.

“Tell me about the dream?”

“I’d rather not.”

Gently laying her hand on her lover’s arm, Alex reminded, “You’ll feel better, I always do after you make me share.”

“That’s different.”

“Is it really?”

The incredulous tone did not miss the detective’s ears, she sighed. “No, not really. But I’m afraid…”

“Of what? It was just a dream.”

“But it wasn’t, not all of it,” Olivia admitted. “And if I told you, you’ll think less of me.”

“Why?”

“You just will.”

“Why don’t you try me?” Alex offered, stroking and spreading comfort across her lover’s back.

The brunette concentrated on the gentle caress, and on the soft swell of the woman’s breasts. Part of her wanted to let go, to release this secret she had kept to herself for so long. “Something happened when I was in college,” she began, with a small voice. “Or rather, I witnessed something back then.”

“All right…”

“I knew it; I knew you’d…”

“Liv,” Alex hushed. “I was just acknowledging what you said; I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“No, I’m sorry,” Olivia apologized. “I shouldn’t be so overly sensitive. It’s just…”

“Yeah?”

“It’s just that… I guess I feel guilty, for not doing something I should’ve done.”

Patiently, Alex waited, silently hoping Olivia would explain the cryptic statement. When the explanation was evidently not forth coming, she prompted, “What happened?”

“When I was a freshman, I was at a bar,” the brunette began, her words tumbling out as the weight of carrying the secret ebb away. “A gay bar. And there was this guy, a drunk babbling bigot, really. He said something nasty about the clientele and he ended up getting raped. Did you see the movie, The Accused?”

“Of course.”

“That’s pretty much what happened to him.”

17.

“You serious? You actually saw… Christ.”

“And I didn’t do a damn thing.”

The guilt in her lover’s voice, she only knew too well. “How old were you?”

“Seventeen, almost eighteen.”

“And you were in a bar?”

“Fake ID.”

Alex shook her head, and laughed lightly. “It’s really not that bad, Liv, to have a fake ID. I did, too.”

“Really?”

“Were you drunk?”

Olivia looked up at her lover. It was the same line of questioning, but this time, for some reason, she didn’t feel as defensive. Maybe the situation was different. Maybe it was the color in the blonde’s voice. “A little. I’d been drinking.”

“So you were underage, and inebriated, and let me guess, there was someone there you wanted to impress?”

“Maybe?”

The small tremble in Olivia’s voice made Alex pause. She cradled the brunette’s cheek in her hand and kissed her head softly. “So what did you do?”

“At first, I was too shocked to do anything.” There was a long awkward moment. “Then I ran,” Olivia finished abruptly.

They could go around and around in circles, trying to make the brunette see for herself that it wasn’t her fault, that she didn’t do anything wrong. “You’re a cop,” Alex said, instead choosing to cut out the superfluous. “You do realize the only people with any fiduciary duty towards the victim were the staff and management.”

Olivia sighed. “I know.”

“And you’ve helped enough people since then.” Alex smiled. “I don’t think you have anymore outstanding karmic debt.”

“I guess…”

“You’ve been lugging this around for so many years?”

Visibly, the brunette stiffened. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not judging.” Winding her fingers in her lover’s hair, Alex explained, “I just don’t understand why you blame yourself for things, things you have no control over, and you beat yourself over it.”

Olivia couldn’t resist the woman’s soft touch. Letting out a deeper breath, and feeling pacified despite herself, “Me neither,” she whispered. “But you do it, too.”

“Yes, you’re right.” Alex laughed her resignation. “I guess we’re meant for each other.”

“Yep. Two peas in a pod.”

The blonde stroked her lover’s skin. **God,** she thought, **What’s going to happen to us? To me?** She nipped the desire for flight and lowered her head to rest against Olivia’s.

The conversation lulled. Then Olivia broke the comfortable silence. “Thank you.”

“Hm?”

“I do feel better.”

“Good.”

“And you’re still here.”

“Where am I going to go?” Alex asked with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “We’re three hundred thousand miles up in the sky.”

“Sweetheart!”

“I’m just teasing, you know that.”

“I know.” With a deep smile, Olivia snuggled closer against her lover’s body. It was good to have no rules, good to not have to worry about who might see and what others might think. “Pieces.”

“What?”

“I think I love you.”

“To pieces?”

“Yeah.”

“Me, too,” Alex whispered, her heart tripping over itself. “Pieces.”

18.

“Merci, Madame.”

“Merci.”

Alex waited for the door to their suite to close, and for her lover to walk down the corridor. “What did you do for my mom?” She asked, while picking up her luggage from the floor, and placing it in the nearest chair. “Rob the Federal Reserve Bank?”

“No, why?”

“Look at this place.” The blonde swept her arm towards the interior.

Olivia followed her lover’s directions and admired the large champagne colored living room and the delicate chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Then she joined the woman on the balcony. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself.” Alex smiled, leaning back, when the brunette came up from behind and surrounded her with her warmth. “So… any idea why my mother went overboard with our trip?”

”She wanted the best for her daughter?” Olivia murmured, taken by the view of the city. For how long had she dreamt of visiting Paris? Now, she was finally here, with the love of her life, in the Capital of Romance. She inhaled deeply the slightly chilled air, feeling light-headed and high on… What? Love for sure. And the possibilities. For the first time, she felt unburdened by her past. She wanted to shout out her joy, so that all of Paris, so that the whole world would hear and know her happiness.

“This is amazing.” Alex pointed forward. “You can see Montmartre from here.”

“Wow.”

“I hope you didn’t mind not staying in the other suite.”

“No, why should I? This one is bigger, and less, um…”

“Like a bordello?”

“Yeah.”

“I wonder what my mom was thinking booking two suites for us. On different floors.”

“I don’t think she expects us to stay in separate rooms, considering…”

“Hush,” Alex turned, and placed a finger over the brunette’s mouth. Briefly, her eyes closed, when soft lips brushed against her skin. Before she melted to the touch, she cleared her throat. “Are you ever going to tell me what you did?”

“Eh, cop and girlfriend’s mom privilege?” Olivia replied with a lopsided smile, watching her lover’s golden lashes flutter against her warming cheeks, aware of the tension growing in the blonde’s body. No rules, she imagined, just how far could she take the idea? Would she be so daring, even if Alex were willing? “Does it really matter what I did?” She asked.

“So it was something official?”

“No, well, not exactly.”

Normally, Alex would respect her mother wishes; that was how she was raised. Somehow, this time, this secrecy troubled her. Maybe it was because it involved her lover. She wanted to know. “Then what exactly?” She asked, taking the brunette by the hand and moving away from the railing.

Allowing Alex to lead her back into the living room, and releasing a pretend sigh of resignation, Olivia explained, choosing her words carefully, “Her friend’s daughter went missing, she wanted to know if there was anything I could do to help.”

“Take it you did?“

The detective nodded, crossing the threshold into their bedroom. “And we found her safe and sound. This looks comfortable.” She pointed to the king size bed. “Can’t wait.”

If the blonde had seen her lover’s wagging brows, she chose to ignore it. Instead, perhaps to put more distance between them, she went into the bathroom, and noted with satisfaction the large walk-in shower and the double sink. “Then why such a big secret?” She pursued, testing the softness of the matching robes on the hangers. “It’s part of your job.”

“I’m sure your mom has her reasons.” Olivia looked into the walk-in closet, and wished that her closet at home were half as big. “I didn’t ask too many questions, just did what I was asked.”

“That’s not like you.”

“She’s your mom.” The brunette replied, her tone teasing. “Do you ask her questions?”

Alex sighed. “Point taken.”

“Oh, my god.”

“What?”

“You have to come see this.”

“What?” Alex repeated; then she stared at the now closed French doors dividing their suite and her own reflection behind the one of the bed. “What the…?”

“I’ll say!”

The smirk tugging at her lover’s lips made the blonde blush. “Liv!”

“You think your mom knows about this?” Olivia rapped her knuckles against the panels of shiny floor to ceiling mirrors.

“I… um…” Rendered speechless, Alex hugged her elbows.

Meanwhile, the detective mind worked aloud. “Upstairs, we have the little red love-nest with two terraces and a view of the Eiffel Tower. And here, a balcony that actually runs along the entire length of the suite… And a wall of mirror,” she restated the fact, and stroked the cold surface for emphasis. “You don’t suppose your mom intended for us to see Paris from the hotel?”

19.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Alex dismissed, refusing to acknowledge the possibility. It was simply illogical. Her mother was not an indulgent person, **Never.** She would never allow something so hedonistic. “I’m sure it was a mistake that we ended up with two reservations. Must be miscommunication.”

“Mistake or miscommunication? Your mom?”

“Or the hotel?” The blonde flushed. “Does it really matter? In the grand scheme of things?”

Olivia smiled, a corner of her lips lifting higher than the other. “Guess not.” Her grin grew when her lover brushed pass her too quickly, and pulled the door handle just a little too forcefully.

In the safety of the living room, Alex turned around, to make sure the brunette had followed her out. “So,” she spoke, glancing down at her watch, “You want to catch breakfast somewhere?”

“Are you hungry?”

“I could eat. Some, anyway.”

“Let’s just wait then.”

“Oh, okay,” Alex readily agreed. Her eyes followed Olivia across the room with interest, her nerves much calmer than she thought possible.

“Here we go,” the brunette said, after she removed the last of the books from her bag and placed them on the coffee table. The delicate arch of her lover’s brow made her falter, in more ways than one. “What?”

“Did you buy every guide book on Paris?”

“I’ve got a couple on the Loire Valley, too.”

“Are you serious?”

“What?”

“I hope you’re not planning on bringing them with us when we go out.”

With a smug smile, Olivia picked up a box of pocket sized cards. “I’ve got these. Walking tours. We could pick places we want to see and follow.”

“What happened to spontaneity?” Alex sighed, smiling. “And you say I plan too much.”

“This is different. We’re in Paris.”

“So?”

“To see everything,” the brunette offered, her face lit with excitement, “We have to be systematic. Don’t sound so ho-hum.”

“I’m not!”

“We’re in Paris.”

“I know!” Her lover’s enthusiasm was catching, Alex had to admit. Suddenly, she felt young again, she felt the newness, and tasted the beginning of adventure. “But do we have to act like tourists?” She asked, laughing lightly, resisting the urge to stick out her tongue.

“We are tourists. Or have you been here so often…”

“Only when I was young. I’m sure things have changed since. Besides, I didn’t do any tourist things, just some of the museums, basically wherever my grandmother took me, and she lived here.” Something in the brunette’s expression made Alex ramble. She caught herself. “You know?”

“Then let’s do it!” Olivia was all smiles again. “Let’s discover Paris!”

“So what are we going to do first?”

“Not what, who.”

Her body tensed instantly. Ignoring the eager plumping of her sex, Alex tucked her hair behind her ear, as if the simple gesture could keep her desire in check and her advancing lover at bay. “Liv.”

“Yes, Baby?”

She could scent the brunette’s perfume, could nearly taste the hint of Listerine from earlier in the morning, when they freshened up at the airport. **It’s all in your head, Cabot,** she decided, ignoring the warmth and comfort and thrill she felt, growing, from deep inside. “You want to explore Paris. We don’t have time,” she said, the tips of her breasts tightening.

“We’ll make time.”

Her lover’s voice against her throat was enough to make the blonde melt. She pulled back, slightly. The intensity in Olivia’s dark eyes became her downfall. “Liv…”

“A quickie,” Olivia whispered hoarsely.

“Liv,” she said again, as if the single syllable a prayer. She didn’t resist when her lover’s palms swept her sides, when her fingers spanned and kneaded her flesh, her powerful body shifting, her lean muscled thighs flexing, pushing a space in through her heart. “Liv… God,” she gasped, and squirmed, and made room for the brunette to press closer, deeper.

“I’ve missed you. It’s been over twenty-four hours.”

Suddenly, her back was against the wall. She shuddered, her hands reaching for Olivia’s face, cradling her cheeks, imprinting her features, dark, wrought with passion. “Liv,” she inhaled the sweetness of her lover’s skin.

“Let me,” Olivia asked, even though she didn’t have to.

Trembling slightly, she welcomed the brunette’s touch. And she clung on as if she were a buoy in a raging sea. And she kissed her, as if she was the air she needed to live.

Breath by breath, stroke by stroke, Alex counted every strong beat of her lover’s pulse as the woman thrust and curled against her, the force of her need soaring, driving through the layers of fabric through the core of her desire.

“I love you,” Olivia plucked her mouth away, just enough to pant.

“Yes!” She closed their distance again, holding fast, squeezing, holding tight. “Liv,” she moaned, her body clenching, swelling, grinding into her lover’s pelvis, her tongue thrashing, plundering the woman’s mouth, drawing them both towards the brink.

**Always,** Olivia made her own promise, as she sunk deeper and deeper, as she pressed their bodies closer and closer together.

Alex could only hang on, her arms her legs surrounding and surrounded.

With a growl, the brunette raised her lover higher. **Fuck, yes, let me, oh god, let me, fuck you,** she chanted wordlessly, sighing, her hips her heart pounding hard, dragging them screaming, throbbing over the edge...

20.

“Ow, my head hurts.”

“Why?” Out of the corner of her eye, Alex watched her lover. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just thinking about what would happen if they ring the eighteen ton bell upstairs.”

“It is really eighteen ton?”

“Well, it takes eight people to ring it.”

“Well.” The blonde shrugged. “I feel sorry for Quasimodo.”

Olivia knew her lover was merely humoring her, still she continued reading. “Did you know they lopped off all the heads of the statues of the kings of Judea and Israel?”

“Who ‘they’?”

“The Revolutionaries.”

“Are you serious?”

“That’s what the book says.”

“God.” The blonde crossed her arms and tossed her hair in frustration. “Can you stop being such a tourist?”

“Look at this place - souvenir shop, people walking around with cameras; and look over there, a whole gaggle of tourists in their little matching polo shirts and caps… The only people here are tourists. Even those nuns,” she pointed towards the small group entering the cathedral. “They’re probably from Eastern Europe.”

Alex sighed. “Instead of reading from the book, you should look at the architecture. Check out the rose window. It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah…” Olivia raised her head, and appeared mesmerized, but only for a moment. “You know what though?”

“What?”

“It’s not as beautiful as you.”

“Liv.” The blonde was ready to walk away. “Now you’re being ludicrous.”

“I’m serious.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Can’t you take a compliment?”

“Sure. I just don’t want to get struck by lightning.”

“What’s wrong with complimenting one of god’s most divine creatures?”

Alex groaned, and grabbed her lover’s hand.

“I’m just full of mush today. I don’t why,” Olivia grinned and followed the blonde up the stairs. “Oh, yes, I do. We’re in Paris, together, you and me.”

“You’re full of something all right,” Alex said, secretly happy to see her usually somber detective so playful. Maybe her mother was right, this trip was an excellent opportunity for them to relax and enjoy each other. **Although I’m sure she didn’t mean it biblically.** The blonde shook her head.

“What’s wrong?”

“Huh?”

“You were wrinkling your brows and shaking your head,” the brunette observed.

Clearly her lover’s nose was not buried as deeply in the guidebook as she pretended, Alex realized. Somehow that knowledge made her heart flutter. “Just thinking about my mom,” she explained. “She’s…”

“She’s wonderful,” Olivia interjected, with a huge smile. “I love her!”

“Yes,” Alex had to laugh. “I’m happy to know that.”

“Ooh, are we going to go see the gargoyles?”

“Yes, and if you’re good, I’ll tell you the stories my grandmother told me.”

Playfully, the brunette batted her eyelashes. “And if I’m really good?”

“I’ll buy you one from the gift shop!”

21.

Along the Seine, the lovers walked, arm in arm. “You got me a gargoyle with a hole in its butt,” OIivia mock complained, pulling the small souvenir from her pocket and looking at it.

“I think that’s called a pencil sharpener.”

“I know that; why a pencil sharpener?”

“So you could put it on your desk? Would you rather that I got you the puffy stickers?”

“No…” The brunette smiled, and slipped the souvenir back into her jacket pocket. “I like my gargoyle, even though I don’t use pencils and it has a hole in the ass.”

“Better than having one in its head,” Alex said. She wanted them to enjoy the architectural splendor of Paris and the beautiful spring day, not being snippy at each other about a damn souvenir. It had not even been two hours since they left the hotel, and already they were goading each other, albeit all smiles. Was her nightmare coming true? That traveling together would bring the worst into the light? Maybe she was just being overly sensitive.

“Look, Sweetheart.” Abruptly the brunette stopped, nearly pulling Alex off her feet.

“What?”

“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” Olivia said with wonder in her voice.

“Uh, Liv, I think those are flowers?”

The detective clicked her tongue and sighed. “They’re so beautiful, and they almost look alive. I don’t think I’ve ever seen flowers so fresh, have you?”

**Hm. Only last week, at the farmers’ market.** Alex thought, and bit her lip.

“Can we check it out?” Olivia asked, pulling her lover towards the stalls.

“Sure, Liv,” Alex replied, mostly to herself.

The brunette had stopped listening, instead immersed in the countless fragrances of the seemingly infinite number of blooms.

An older man approached, smiling, and asked if he could be of help. In response, Olivia pointed to the largest bouquet of mixed blooms. The vendor carefully pulled the bundle from amongst all of the others and wrapped it in plain white paper, accepted the brunette’s payment and bid her good day.

Meanwhile, Alex had moved on to the other side of the market. Absently, she watched a street artist apply paint to canvas, and tried hard not to look back to her lover or wonder what was going on. She turned when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

With a dramatic bow and a gallant flourish of her hand, Olivia presented the bouquet she bought.

“What’s this?” Alex asked, quickly checking to see who might be watching.

“Beautiful flowers for my beautiful lady,” Olivia intoned with her best imitation of an old world accent. She smiled coyly and waited for her lover to take the proffered flowers.

“Stop it being so silly.”

“I thought you like it when I’m a little silly?” Olivia explained, sounding crushed. “You liked my Bugs Bunny voices, at least you used to.”

Seeing the bewildered look on her lover’s face, Alex relented. “I still do,” she said. “And thank you.” She buried her nose in the bouquet and breathed deeply. “They smell wonderful, and they are lovely.”

“I knew you would like them.”

Now the brunette was all smiles, Alex noticed. **Are my emotions so easily manipulated? God, we’re hopeless.** Perhaps a little more forcefully than intended, she thrust the flowers back at her lover. “Turn around,” she ordered, pulling at Olivia’s backpack.

“I got them for you; and what are you…” she started when the bouquet was snatched out of her bewildered hands. “Doing?”

Without a word, Alex set the bundle in the brunette’s bag. She made sure it was safely nestled and secured by a zipper on each side.

“I look stupid with them sticking out like that.”

“I think you look adorable.”

“But they’re your flowers.”

“So?” Alex challenged, with laughter in her eyes.

With a slight smile, the brunette retorted, “Fine, I’ll just throw them out.”

Playing along, Alex pressed her hands to her hips, “You will not. My flowers.”

“Then why aren’t you carrying them?”

“You have to provide delivery service?”

“I look like I have flowers growing out of my head.”

“You look like you’re wearing a crown of flowers.” The blonde offered, her blue eyes sparkling. “Very pretty flowers.”

How could Olivia resist a smile like that? “Lawyers,” she shook her head at herself. “Will I ever learn not to argue with one?”

“I was wondering that myself.” Alex laughed, and grabbed her lover’s hand. “Come on, let’s find the Metro station. I’m starving.”

22.

“How many more stops before we change?”

“Don’t know. Check your map. Or the one overhead.”

With her lover’s encouragement, Olivia pulled out her guidebook on Paris’ Métro system. She traced her fingers along the different colored lines. “Let’s see…” She stopped at the next stop. “Aha!”

Alex straightened in her seat. “Too many if you asked me.”

“My, you’re cranky.”

“Just hungry.”

“I guess I was right getting these.” With a big smile, the brunette pointed to the pink flowers in the bouquet.

“Why?” Alex narrowed her eyes at the bunch. “They look like genitalia?”

“No, ‘cause they’re snap dragons. Like you, snappish.”

“I’m not. Just…”

“Hungry, I know.” Olivia placated and began digging into her bag. “Here, I think I packed some snacks...”

“No eating, see that sign?”

“You think they actually enforce it?” She looked around. “Although I must say, the car is almost spotless.”

“And the station, it looked clean, not gray, like ours.”

“You mean New York? Or…”

“Both.” Alex shrugged. Honestly, she wasn’t thinking about the subway system in a specific city just then, but Olivia’s question made her pause. It had only been a few months since she moved; had she begin to think of Chicago as ‘hers’? Clearly, the brunette considered it a possibility… The underground train stopped just then, providing a reprieve. She let her lover pull her to her feet and followed her out…

“You know,” Olivia began, looking down the darkened tunnel. Seeing no signs of their next train, she turned back to the blonde. “I had the strangest dream earlier.”

“Another one? When?”

“Right after the other one,” Olivia hesitated. “You know.”

“You want to share?”

“Well, to make a long story short…” The detective began. “I dreamt I was having an affair, well, actually, a one night stand, with a married cop.”

“Not Elliot…”

Olivia made a face. “Some guy who doesn’t exist in real life, at least not that I’m aware of.”

“Ah.”

“I found out I was pregnant.”

“What?” Alex asked as the train approached.

“I found out I was pregnant!” Olivia shouted over the noise. She waited for the door to slide closed and the train to start moving before continuing. “Anyway, at first I didn’t tell anyone.”

Since all the seats were taken, Alex leaned against the glass panel by the door, and drew her lover near. “Where was I in this dream?”

“You weren’t there.” The brunette looked down at their linked hands, and began playing with the silver band, centering the claddah motif on the blonde’s finger. “Then I started to show, and I let the squad think I was raped, and I decided to keep the baby like my mom…”

“And they actually believed you? Are you serious? That’s so…”

“Cliché?” Olivia smiled lightly. “It was a dream, Sweetheart. You know how I feel about the matter.”

“Yeah, but I’m still glad your mom kept you.”

The detective met her lover’s eyes and felt only elation. “Actually, me, too,” she whispered into inviting pink lips.

Alex cleared her throat after they pulled apart. “Anyway.” She swallowed, fighting the urge to resume their kiss. “Your dream? Why did you let them think that?”

“I was afraid they’d fire me when they found out the truth. And I was enjoying the sympathetic treatment.”

“How would you get fired? It’s not against departmental policy to have affairs.” **With people who didn’t exist,** the blonde reminded herself. “Or was it with the Captain, or Fin, or…”

“Stop it.” Olivia laughed. “It’s a dream. A dream I have no control over.”

“All right, sorry.”

“The first time, Elliot found me having a glass of wine at the bar. He didn’t say anything. Then he caught me drunk, smoking a cigarette.”

“You don’t smoke. And why were you drinking and smoking? You knew better than that!”

“Again, a dream.” Olivia touched her lover’s hand soothingly. “Do you want to know the end or not? You don’t make a good listener, do you?”

“I’m a problem solver.” Alex smiled at her detective’s teasing. “You know that, and that’s why you’re telling me your dream. So I can help figure out what’s going on in your head, am I wrong?”

“Well, anyway, the wife found out. She wrote some nasty stuff on my locker and Elliot saw it, and realized I’ve been lying to him and he got so mad. He went ballistic.” Olivia cringed and glossed over the violence, thankful that she didn’t remember much of it. “He punched me, in the guts, I think, and I lost the baby.”

“Excuse me?”

“But I let him, ‘cause I was feeling so guilty…” The brunette finished quickly. “That’s it. I woke up. Then we had lunch, or dinner, whatever that meal was.”

“That’s it?” Alex asked, incredulous. She searched her memory and her lover’s face. “You weren’t disturbed by the dream?”

“Well, yes, but not as much as I think I should? Does it make sense?” Olivia tried to explain. “Oh, it’s Sorbonne, our stop.”

23.

“Are you feeling guilty about being here, with me, and not working?” Alex asked, after they had settled into their seat at the restaurant.

“Not really…”

“Are you sure?”

“Okay, maybe a little. I’ve been taking more time off than usual,” Olivia admitted from behind her menu. Quickly, she provided, “But it’s not like Elliot’s there by himself. I really want the time off, to be with you. And I’m not taking more time than regulations allowed. Nowhere near.”

“Oh, boy.”

“What?”

“You may be a born-again heathen.” Alex sighed. “Apparently, you’re still full of guilt.”

“Don’t you feel guilty about taking time off?”

“Nope.” The blonde looked around, to check the dishes on the other patrons’ table. “Do you know what you’re having?”

At present, Olivia’s brain was not on food. She decided on the first thing that seemed appealing, and nodded. “Even when you were… before?”

“Well, it was never fun being on call.” Alex shrugged and with a small smile, she revealed, “I dreaded the phone at night and on the weekends.”

“Really?”

“I believed in my job, Liv, and I was good at it. But I’m not a masochist, and I tried not to let it take over my life.”

“Even though it did,” Olivia mumbled under her breath.

Alex took a sip of water, and said with a wry smile, “There were times I couldn’t wait to get away from you people.”

“Even me?”

“Sometimes, especially you.”

Not expecting that answer from her lover, Olivia look away, to stare down Boulevard St. Michel. “Guess we could’ve gotten off a stop earlier, and saved some walking,” she said, to change the subject.

“Oh, don’t sulk,” Alex sighed, and ran the tip of her fingers along the brunette’s hand. “It’s not what you think.”

“That’s all right,” Olivia replied with downcast eyes. It was illogical for her to feel rejected. Alex was entitled to have time to herself. There were days even the detective didn’t feel like seeing anyone… Just never Alex…

It was inappropriate, but seeing how her lover was reacting, and knowing how much she cared, made Alex beam. “Don’t be goofy.”

“What?”

“I didn’t try to avoid you because of work reasons, especially not early on.”

“Early on?” Olivia echoed, flicking at the corner of the menu with her nails.

Lacing their fingers together, Alex stopped the detective’s twitching. “Yes, when I first started with the squad.”

“Why?”

The blonde lowered her head, her eyes measuring the small distance between their seats. “Let’s just say I was interested in other kinds of debriefing.”

“Really,” Olivia said in a weak voice.

Alex’s cheeks turned to flame.

The detective’s mind churned; the knowledge intoxicating like the sweetest wine. “You were aloof and difficult to deal with all because you had the hots for me?”

“Maybe,” the blonde murmured, the noise of chair dragging along concrete roared in her ears. “Liv,” she said, her voice tensing against the heat of her lover’s palm on her thigh.

Olivia leaned her head next to Alex’s and whispered, as if sharing a secret, “Is that why you’ve been so snippy… all morning?” Her hand seared higher, and she purred, “Hmm?”

“Why?” Alex asked reflexively; her body’s response, however, was clear and convincing. “Shut up.” She colored deeper.

“You want me to do something, to help?”

“Now?”

Like the Cheshire Cat, Olivia grinned. “My, did we find your special kink?”

“No!” Alex pulled away. “Of course not!” She protested, perhaps a little too forcefully.

The waiter appeared just in time to catch the brunette’s laughter.

24.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Something wrong, Baby?”

“Huh?” Alex gazed towards the altar. “Oh, no.” She shrugged, not bothering to hide her lie.

“Come on, tell me.”

“Every time I visited Paris.” The blonde sighed, giving in to her lover’s inquiry. “My mother would bring me here, to listen to the evening concerts.”

“According to the book, they still have them.” Olivia looked around and imagined the acoustical effects. “Must be heavenly. Maybe we could come back?”

“Yeah, sure, if you want.”

“Didn’t you like the performances?”

“Of course.”

“Then why do you look like I just killed your puppy?”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to…” Without finishing her statement, Alex began walking down the aisle.

Olivia peeled her eyes away from the dizzyingly breathtaking kaleidoscope of lights and followed her lover towards the rose window. She stopped next to the blonde and reached for her hand.

Alex allowed the lacing of their fingers. “It’s the apocalypse, you know,” she said flatly.

“Yeah, it’s in here, too,” the brunette pointed to the tourist guide in her bag. “Too bad we don’t have binoculars.”

“We can get some and come back.”

“Is everything okay, Sweetheart?”

“Fine,” Alex insisted. Then she thought better. “My great-grandfather’s funeral service was held here. My mom’s grandfather. He died before I was born, or have I already told you?”

“Wow.” Olivia whispered her awe, thinking about what Celine Cabot had told her. “He must’ve been a remarkable man.”

“He did some work for the government, as a diplomat, and then he helped, during the Resistance.”

“That’s so wonderful, to be a part of that legacy.”

Alex turned towards her lover. “I guess I never thought of it that way,” she said with a quizzical expression on her face.

“If I had a family history like yours, I’d be so proud.”

“Yeah, well,” the blonde smiled uneasily, conscious of Olivia’s past. The open look of wonder on the brunette’s face only added to her embarrassment. “It was a different time back then; and with the war, ordinary people did extraordinary things. I’m sure he put on his pants one leg at a time like everyone else.”

“Sweetheart…”

“Anyway.” The smile turned brilliant again. “We ready to go? I want to see the rest of the complex.”

“You’re not serious about watching a trial, are you?”

“Why? I thought you live for justice.”

Olivia grimaced. “May I remind you we’re on vacation?”

“Yes?” Alex raised an elegant brow.

“Fine. We go watch a damn trial.”

“Just a short one, hopefully. And maybe we can catch the verdict.”

“Lawyers…” The brunette grumbled with a lopsided smile, and led the way out of Sainte-Chapelle.

25.

“Are you sure that’s what you want to do?” Alex asked, resting her elbows on the edge of the busy Pont-Neuf. “We’ll just end up crisscrossing Paris, and missing a lot of the other stuff.”

Olivia eyed the passenger ferries docked below the oldest bridge in the city with undisguised amusement. “Must be full of tourist,” she commented.

“Probably. Do you want to see how we can get tickets? It might be fun going down the Seine.”

“Have you ever?”

“Been on one of those things?”

“Or travel down the Seine.”

“I’ve walked along it.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Olivia said resolutely. Then she added with a smile, “Unless you really want to go on a boat tour.”

“It’s all right,” Alex shrugged. It really didn’t matter to her one way or the other; she just felt like she should offer her lover options. “You still haven’t answered me.”

“About what?”

“Whether you really want to run around Paris. We were so close to the Panthéon…”

“But you didn’t want to see it,” the brunette interjected, then provided eagerly, “Unless you changed your mind.”

“No, I haven’t.” Alex withheld her sigh. “But don’t you want to see it? And all the other buildings? Monuments? Paintings? Museums? We skipped Cluny; don’t you want to see the tapestries? I’m sure they’re in your book.” For every question, she received a shake of the head from her lover. Finally, she gave up. “This is your first time in Paris.”

“Exactly. Everything I see is new and interesting.”

“But we’re missing all the popular sites.”

“So are you,” Olivia reasoned. Turning away from the river view, she leaned against the stone barrier. Then with a soft smile, she touched her lover’s arm, as if to strengthen their connection, or to emphasize her point. “Sweetheart? Can I ask you something?”

“Of course. Anything,” Alex replied, ignoring once more the creeping desire for flight.

“Does it bother you, that I want to visit all the places you’ve been? And the places you want to go?”

“Well, no. But,” the blonde began.

Olivia didn’t let her lover finish, silencing her with a light kiss. “Then be my tour guide.”

Tipping her chin back, Alex chuckled, unsettled by the dark depth of the other woman’s eyes. “That sounded awfully cheesy,” she teased.

“Yep,” the detective replied, without skipping a beat. “That’s me.”

Alex could only shake her head. She loved the woman standing before her, her smiles, how she made her laugh, the many ways she made her feel, even the parts she didn’t understand and that scared her. And the scariest part was that she wanted to drown, to be overwhelmed by Olivia’s enthusiasm, her affection, her passion… Would her lover understand if she told her how she felt? She shivered.

“Cold, Baby?”

That the brunette had noticed, even though it was her job to be observant, made the back of her eyes burn. “Just a little bit,” she stroked her arms, grateful that her voice had not faltered.

“Oh, here,” Olivia said, immediately taking off her backpack. Quickly, she pulled out the sweatshirt she bought from Sorbonne, and watched her lover put it on. “How’s that? Are you warm enough? Do you want mine?”

“I’m fine, I think. Yeah,” Alex decided, warmed by more than the soft pink chenille garment. “Thank you, and thanks again for my shirt,” she pressed a kiss to the brunette’s cheek.

“You’re welcome,” the detective said cheerily and reached for her lover’s hand. She paused, to rub the surface chill from the woman’s palm. “We ready to roll?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. Musée Delacroix, here we come.”

“You do realize I’ve never been there.”

“Yep. We’ll see something new together.” Olivia grinned. “It’s gotta be more interesting than the trial.”

“Uh, you were the one who wanted to stay.” Alex threw her lover an amused look. “Meanwhile, I was ready to go to sleep.”

“Actually, you did.”

“Did not!”

“If you say so.” The brunette put on her most charismatic smile. “Anyway, that’s what I meant, that Delacroix would be more interesting, for you.” Abruptly, she pulled away. Before Alex could react, she whispered, “I’m sure he painted many nudes,” and took off running.

“Olivia Benson, I’m gonna…” The blonde followed, blushing, laughing.

“Gonna what?” Without warning, Olivia stopped. “Whatcha gonna do to me?” She enfolded her lover in her arms. “Now that you’ve got me.”

“Um.” She moved her shoulders, to show her confinement. “I think I’m the one got.”

“And you object, counselor?”

**Do you have to be so charming?** Alex lowered her eyes and bit down on her lip. “I guess not.”

“You guess?”

“No, I don’t object,” she sighed, her mouth parting, to welcome her lover’s kiss…

26.

“That’s interesting.”

Alex followed the other woman’s gaze to the two wooden figures mounted on the pillar. Looking down once more at their silhouette copies on her coffee cup and sugar cube wrapper, she remained silent.

“Wonder if they’ve ever fallen,” Olivia said with a laugh. “It’d make me nervous to sit underneath.”

“They remind me of trophies.”

“Trophies?”

“Game trophies, like in my dad’s hunting lodge.”

“Hm…” Olivia considered the comparison, her eyes settling on the features of the Asian man closest to their table. “I guess, I can see that, the way they’re displayed.” She furrowed her brows. “Or do you mean the exploitation?”

Picking up the white wrapper, Alex began folding the corners together. “Bernard’s father sold silk for a living.”

“Bernard?”

“My great-grandfather.”

“So your great-great-grandfather was a silk importer?”

The excited curiosity in her companion’s voice surprised Alex. She stopped the paper folding briefly, to smile at her lover. “Yes, something like that, or at least that’s what my grandmother Marianne told me.”

“Your mom’s mom?”

Alex nodded. “Before you ask, that’s all I know about Bernard’s father. My great-grandfather was adopted.”

“Really?”

“Really. You seemed surprised…”

“Um,” Olivia paused, embarrassed. “I guess, I don’t know why thought, oh, never mind, sorry, I have no idea…”

“That’s all right, Liv,” Alex reached across the table, to touch her lover’s hand. “Everyone has skeletons in their closets. My family’s no exception,” she said, hoping to reassure.

“I guess, I didn’t mean… I don’t know why I was surprised.” Olivia persisted. “Maybe because usually to be a diplomat…”

“You have to be connected?” Alex provided for her companion. Her smile never wavering, she hoped for the uneasiness to dissipate. “His adoptive father was. Now,” her smile grew, “If you want to know more, ask my mom. I’m sure she’d be thrilled to tell you all about her family.”

“Really? You serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious,” Alex replied, and returned to the scrap of paper.

**Wait, did you just…** Olivia’s brain halted her excitement. **Your mother’s family? Isn’t that yours, too?** Then she remembered what Celine had said about raising her daughter a Cabot. Her eyes searched her lover’s pale face and saw only focus. “Wonder when they’re bringing our food. I’m starved.”

Internally, Alex sighed, relieved to change the subject. “I know,” she agreed. “Here.” She licked her lips, and finished the origami by pulling the wings out. “Make a wish,” she said, and placed her creation on the back of Olivia’s hand.

“A wish?”

“Yes, they say if you make a thousand, your wish will come true.”

“A thousand? That’s crazy.”

“Well, that’s why I only made one.”

“Shouldn’t you make a wish then?”

“It’s my wish, I can assign it to whomever I like,” Alex announced.

The defiant grin on her lover’s face tugged at Olivia’s heart. It was the same smile she had seen day after day, procedure after procedure, when the attorney knew she had the upper hand. “Do I have to tell you what it is?”

“Only if you want to.”

“I wish.” Olivia took a deep breath. “I wish our food would get here soon,” she said, with a light laugh to ease her nervousness. “And I wish…”

“You only get one wish, Liv.”

“Well, then, here.” She quickly unwrapped the sugar that came with her coffee, and pushed the slip of paper across the table. “Make me another.”

“Gee, I don’t know, Liv. On demand?” Alex teased, and tucked her hair behind her ears. “What do you think I am? A wish genie?”

“Well…”

“And here I thought I was your wish come true.” She leaned forward, pushing her breasts against her arms, and noted with satisfaction the automatic lowering of her lover’s gaze.

Blue eyes met hers when Olivia looked up again; the knowing glint made her face flush. “Of course you are. Everything I want, everything I’d ever hoped for. And will want and hope for in the future,” she added deliberately, to appease the lawyer brain. “In perpetuity.”

Alex laughed, her breathing tight. “Look.” She seized upon the approaching waiter. “Our food’s here. Your wish worked.”

“Great! Now make me another crane. So I can make another wish.”

There was something in the woman’s dark orbs; whatever it was made Alex swallow. “I’ll tell you what,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Merci,” she resumed her normal tone to thank the uniformed man.

“What?”

She waited after he had finished placing their food on the table and left. “I’ll show you how to make them. After dinner. Then you can have everything your heart desires, whenever you want.”

Somehow that was more than an offer of origami lesson, Olivia suspected. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

27.

“Did you ever wonder what it’d be like, to live in a foreign country?”

Alex stared into the window of a nearby clothing shop. “Not really.”

“Do you want to go in?” Olivia asked, and when her companion shook her head, she continued, “Never?”

“Maybe when I was younger,” Alex admitted. She pulled her jacket tighter against the evening chill. “But then after my father died, and then after my father’s mother died, both times we came to Europe.”

“To mourn?”

“Or to escape.”

No doubt from idle society gossip or otherwise unwanted intrusion, Olivia speculated. “I guess that could take the charm out of everything.”

“Not everything.” Alex smiled. “I’ve always loved the architecture and the museums. And I didn’t have to study or do homework; that was always a plus.”

Olivia had to laugh. “No doubt.” She stopped when her lover paused before another shop, this time a florist. The dimmed interior told her it was closed. “Sorry about your flowers,” she said regretfully.

“It’s all right.” Alex resumed walking, pulling her companion along. “Did you really expect it to last? We’ve been out all day.”

“Sorry. I guess that was stupid.”

“That’s not what I meant, Liv.”

“S’okay.”

“Olivia.”

“Mmm?” The detective smiled, instinctively aware that she was in trouble with her lover. She followed when the woman ducked under a darkened awning. Quietly, she awaited her doom.

The large puppy dog eyes touched Alex like they always did. “I wasn’t complaining about the flowers, Liv,” she explained softly.

“Yes, but they died.”

“They’re cut flowers, Liv, they were dead when you bought them.”

The quiet smile on her lover’s face only made Olivia more defensive. “You know what I mean.”

“I’m still keeping most of them.”

“Squished, in a book.” An impromptu purchase they made from the street vendor. She knew Alex picked the tome merely for its volume.

“Pressed flowers.”

“Whatever.”

No matter how hard Alex tried to change, patience was never going to be one of her virtues. “Why can’t you accept that the flowers are okay?”

“But they’re not what I intended… and I should’ve thought better…”

“Then I wouldn’t have had the pleasure of seeing flowers in your hair.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I didn’t say it is.” With an audible sigh, Alex retrieved her camera from her messenger bag. She turned it on, and scrolled to the picture she wanted. “Here,” she said, and shoved the point-and-shoot into her lover’s hand.

“Okay?” Olivia squinted at the image. “I look like a dork.”

With another sigh, Alex reached across the space between their bodies and pressed the zoom button. “Look again.”

“What?”

“The flowers, they really do look like a crown.”

“Yes, and I look like such a dork.”

“You’re nothing but beautiful.”

Olivia tore her eyes away from her lover’s. “If you say so.”

“I do. And I know I’m going to have fun putting the flowers in a scrapbook.”

Blinking, Olivia echoed in surprise. “In a scrapbook?”

“When the flowers are dried.” Alex smiled.

“A scrapbook.”

“Yes, for our first trip together. You seem shocked, why?”

“No reason, I just…” Just when she thought she had her lover figured out, she surprised her. “I never thought you’d be the scrapbooking type. Maybe when you were young, but not now.”

“Why? Too sentimental?”

“Maybe?”

“That’s not something I advertise.” Alex confessed. “It’s totally bad for my reputation.”

“True.” Olivia smiled her crooked smile. “Do you have other scrapbooks of us?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

The glimpse of disappointment on her companion’s face, no matter how fleeting it was, was enough for Alex. She slipped her camera back into her bag. With her empty hands, she reached for Olivia’s, and drew her lover’s arms around herself. “You can help me make them.”

In an instant, all of Olivia’s uncertainties and her quarrels disappeared. Mesmerized by her lover’s twinkling blue eyes, and the deep love they conveyed, she breathed, “I can, huh?” And she tightened her hold.

Deeming words unnecessary, Alex closed their distance, mouth to mouth, heart to heart…

28.

Getting up at the crack of dawn and going to the morning market was Alex’s idea. If her lover wanted her to play tour guide then she would make damn sure that she saw as many places as possible. She would not be doing her job if they had spent their second day in Paris in the hotel. **No, not at all,** she thought with resolution and tore off another piece of the fresh baguette. “Good bread,” she commented, her gaze pointed towards the Neo-Classical pavilion.

Olivia remained silent.

Maybe they had gotten too close, too familiar, Alex wondered as her skin prickled. Even without looking up, she knew her companion was staring at her. All too easily, she could imagine her lover’s smile; she could see the expression on the woman’s face. And she could feel the touch of her eyes, lingering, and stripping her bare, inside and out…

She had to seize control of the situation, Alex decided. She simply had to, before… “What?” She half barked.

“What ‘what’?”

“What are you doing?”

“Why, what’s wrong with what I’m doing?” Olivia curled her lips slowly into a smile, clearly convinced of her upper hand. “I can’t look at you?”

“Yes, you can. Just…”

“’Just’?”

“Not like that!”

“Like ‘that’?”

“You know how!” Alex demanded with barely disguised frustration. “And stop repeating what I say!”

“Gimme a kiss.”

“What kind of kiss?”

“Why? What kind do you want?”

“Olivia Benson!”

“Alex Ca…” The detective replied automatically, before checking herself. “All right, fine. I’m sorry.”

To her lover’s darkening features, Alex raised her brows. “Now what are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Olivia said, making a show of digging through her backpack for something. Finally, she retrieved the bottled water, twisted open the cap, and took a long pull.

When the display was over, Alex asked, “Then why are you sulking?”

“’Cause you won’t give me a kiss.”

“Just a kiss.” Just one kiss could be her downfall, she knew. Then again, they were in a wide open public garden. What kind of harm could one little peck do?

“Yes.”

“On the lips.”

“Yes, a kiss on the lips.”

“No molesting,” Alex attempted to negotiate.

“’Molesting’? You didn’t think I was harassing you last night.”

“We were in our hotel room last night.”

“Not the whole time. Remember? We were under the awning when I…”

Suddenly, memory of the night flooded the woman’s senses. She remembered their tender kiss that robbed her breath and transfigured into a hip-rolling fever that filled her body with desperate longing… one that was still simmering under the surface. “Shut up!”

“Then gimme a kiss.”

“Fine,” Alex agreed. Quickly, she pressed a kiss to the corner of her lover’s mouth.

“Hey!”

“What? You got your kiss.”

Leaning forward, Olivia complained, “You call that a kiss?” If she had her way, they would still be in their hotel room, screwing Paris. Being out in one of the many gardens of the city, with a magnificent view of the Eiffel Tower, nevertheless had its charm… especially when coupled with her lover’s fraying restraint. “That was not a kiss. It was a hit-and-run.”

“What?”

“You collided with my lips and you left the scene afterwards.”

“I’m still here.”

“Not your lips. I want them right here.” Olivia touched her fingers to her mouth. “I want a real kiss.”

“I gave you a kiss.”

“I want reparation. Treble damages for your hit-and-run.”

“Treble damages.”

“Yep.” She shouldn’t be so smug; it was wrong. It was sinful to feel the way she did, Olivia knew. Yet, she pushed on. “Are you afraid?”

“Of what?”

“That you might not be able to stop? That you’d want me to ravish you, right here? Under these bushes, where nobody can see? Or maybe over there, behind that huge tree?”

“Olivia Benson, stop,” Alex contested. Then weakly, she gave in, “Please, stop.”

“Pretty please?”

“Yes, pretty please with sugar on top.”

“Mmm… Tempting…”

“Why are you acting like this?”

“Like how?”

“Like… Like… Just stop it.”

“All right, I’m sorry.” Olivia laughed, the tension between them too great even for her to bear. She spread her hands in amity. “Blame it on all the naked statues. You can’t cross the street without seeing one.”

“Naked statues.”

“If I were Pygmalion, I’d make you.”

“Liv! Hush!”

“What? I’m just saying how beautiful you are and how you’re perfect in every way.” She reached for her lover’s hand. “You’re my Galatea, Sweetheart.”

“Oh, Liv…” It was absurd and embarrassing, how easily she melted to her lover’s sentiment, and how warm and fuzzy they made her feel. Still, Alex smiled. “That’s sweet.”

“And if you let me, I’d make you every chance I get.”

“Liv!”

29.

“Franklin D Roosevelt?”

Alex smiled, her eyes sparkling in amusement.

“What?”

As a reply, she tucked her arm through Olivia’s. Purposefully pressing her breast against her lover’s bicep, she pulled her away from the Métro station.

Olivia blinked. Then recovering with a slight jerk, she cleared her throat. “I’m just saying.”

“He was an important historical figure.”

“I know that. It’s just funny.” Olivia said the name again, this time with an exaggerated French accent. “What do you think?”

Shaking her head, more at herself than her lover, Alex sighed. “Liv.”

“Yes, Sweetheart?”

“Nothing. I just…” Whenever the woman smiled like that, Alex find herself lost for words. She cut the sentence short with a tight exhale. “Nothing.”

Olivia studied the subtle changes on her companion’s face. “Tell me.”

“Oh look, there’s the Canadian consulate. Used to be somebody’s house.”

“Wonderful. Great,” Olivia dismissed, refusing to play along, not this time. “Now tell me.”

Realizing she was not going to distract the woman again, Alex gave in. “I… love you.”

“And I love you,” Olivia said with a steady voice, in contrast to her lover’s almost hesitant whisper. Behind that declaration was a question.

“It’s just sometimes,” Alex explained. “The feeling catches me by surprise, and I want to shout it out to the world. Does that make sense?”

“Perfect sense.”

“Sometimes I think I’m going crazy.”

Olivia laughed. “Baby, I think that’s called being in love.”

“I guess.”

“I’m crazy about you.”

“I miss you,” Alex supplied, sounding a bit dazed. “When we’re not together.”

“I miss you even when you’re around.”

“This is madness.”

“Beautiful madness.”

“Do you think…” Alex pinched her lips together, as if to squash the words before they could escape. “How long do you think it’ll last?”

“Long, I hope. For the rest of my life, our lives, I hope.”

They should not be discussing this, not in the middle of the streets of Paris. Yet Alex could stop herself just as much as she could a train wreck. “You’re not scared?”

“Shitless.”

Right then, Alex wanted to tell Olivia how she felt. She wanted to tell her that this was not some teenage crush or hormone driven lust or ambition or otherwise compelled affair. That for the first time in her life, that she could see herself growing old with someone, could see herself fall apart to pieces if said someone were to walk away or disappear. And she was terrified. And suddenly, more than anything else, she wanted the woman to know the truth, about her past, about everything. Surely none of this was something she should burden her lover with. So, instead of expounding, she simply nodded in agreement. When that didn’t seem enough, she whispered, “Me, too.”

“I know.”

That was not a reply Alex anticipated. “You do?”

“Of course. Sometimes you want to run away.” Not allowing her lover any time to rebut, Olivia continued, “Don’t deny it; I’ve seen it in your eyes.”

“You have?”

“And I’m glad you’re still here.”

“You’re not upset?”

“No, like I said, you’re here. That’s the most important thing.” When Alex remained silent, seemingly lost for words, she asked, “Something wrong?”

“No.” There was a short pause. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

“How much I think you’ll like the lilies.”

“Lilies?”

“Monet’s. The museum of modern art has a big collection of them.”

Another one of Alex’s diversions, Olivia realized. If she didn’t know better, she would think her lover was getting worse at them. This time, however, she allowed it. “Take it that’s where we’re going next?”

“Yep. Unless you don’t want to.”

“I do.”

“Good.” Alex smiled, and quickened her pace. Then she turned to her companion, her smile brighter than the morning sun. “I’m glad, Liv.”

“About what?”

“That we’re together.”

30.

“Sorry about the lilies,” Alex said as she stirred her coffee.

Olivia rested her gaze on her lover’s fingers. “It’s all right. This is nice.”

“I don’t know how I thought… Can I have your book? Maybe I can find the museum; maybe I can remember where I saw them…”

Reaching across the table, Olivia stilled her companion’s hand from the compulsive circling that made her head spin. “Alex?”

“Huh?”

“Can you stop for a minute?”

“Stop? Oh, you mean this?” Alex removed the spoon from her drink and rested it on her saucer. “Sorry.”

“Thank you, but I didn’t necessarily mean that.”

“What?”

“I wanted you to stop apologizing about some stupid paintings.”

“I just thought… I can’t believe…”

“Sweetheart.”

“What?”

“Chill, will you?” Olivia sighed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to use that tone with you, it’s just, I don’t understand why you’re apologizing.”

“Because…” Before Alex could explain, her lover hushed.

“It’s not a big deal.”

“But it is,” she insisted, not completely understanding why herself. Her innocent mistake somehow seemed like an irreparable failure. “I wanted you to see the Monets.”

“And we will. Here,” Olivia relented, and pulled out her tour guide. “I’m sure this is it,” she flipped to the section on Trocadéro museums, and pointed to the Musée Marmottan and its descriptions as she read them out loud. “Yes, I’m sure this is it. And we can go there next.”

“Well…” Alex exhaled. “Let’s go there later, in the afternoon. There are other sights in between here and there I’d like to show you.”

With exaggerated cheerfulness, Olivia agreed, “Okay. Now can we focus on lunch?” She made a sweeping gesture towards the Eiffel Tower and the Seine. “Or maybe the beautiful view from here?”

“I was over-reacting, wasn’t I?”

“Maybe just a little.”

“Sorry.”

“Please don’t apologize for caring.” Olivia smiled and held on to her lover’s hand. “Meanwhile, I should be the one apologizing.”

“Why?”

“It’s got to be a big burden that I’m putting on you, asking you to be my tour guide.” Slightly sheepishly, she shrugged her shoulders. “I know you’re already stressed out worrying about us getting along.”

“Well…” Alex looked down at their joined hands, her mouth twisting into a shy smile. “I like being your tour guide. It’s fun.”

“It is.”

“And I like being your first in something.”

**I like being your first in something, too? In what?** “Sweetheart,” Olivia started. Then, unsure of what else to say, she let the sentence hang.

“Liv?”

The uncertainty in the other woman’s voice surprised Olivia. She rushed to reassure. “Me, too, I like that a lot, too.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I can’t wait for other firsts.”

The warm smile had Alex convinced. “Me neither,” she said, and reached for her coffee.

Olivia waited for her lover to sip from her drink; she counted the seconds it took her to put down her cup. “Sweetheart?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I be your first in something, too? One of these days?”

Alex licked her lips and swallowed. “Liv,” she laughed lightly, weaving their fingers together. “You already are, in many things.”

“I am? Like what?”

“You’re the first person I’ve ever…”

“Yeah?”

“You’re the first person I’ve ever kissed in broad day light,” Alex said, her unwavering smile never betraying her trepidation. She leaned across the table, to make good her words.

31.

“Wow.” Olivia blew out a puff of air. “Wow,” she repeated, her voice still retaining its husky tone, her blood burning as she watched her lover resettle into her seat.

Meanwhile, Alex licked her lips and released a happy sigh. “Mm.”

“Wow.”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“I can’t believe,” Olivia began. Then she found herself lost for words. “Wow.”

Alex laughed, pleased with her companion’s reaction. “So how does it feel, being first?”

“Love it, what else? Absolutely digging it.”

“That’s good to know.”

Pushing the dishes aside and taking both her lover’s hands in her own, Olivia leaned forward, her body hating the cold marble table and the space it occupied. “What’s next?”

“What do you mean?”

“This can be addictive.”

“What can?” Alex’s smile was mischievous.

“You know this is crazy,” Olivia said instead.

“You know you haven’t made much sense since our kiss.”

“Let’s skip lunch.”

“What?”

“Let’s get out of here,” Olivia urged, tucking her legs under, and getting ready to stand.

“Why?” Alex asked, even though she knew exactly where her companion was leading. Oh, it was so much fun playing dumb and watching the woman drive herself up the tree. “I thought you wanted food; your stomach was growling earlier.” As if to demonstrate, she took a small nibble from her plate. “And I’m hungry, too.”

“But…” Food could wait; something in that kiss had gotten to her. “I want… more.”

“More?”

“More than a kiss.” To hell with control; they were on vacation, in the City of Dreams. “I want you.” **I want to make you mine in ways no one else had.** Involuntarily, she searched her pockets, patting down the fabric when she found them empty. **Damn it.**

“What are you doing?”

“Huh?” Olivia met her lover’s eyes. Suddenly, she remembered the bottom of her luggage. Suddenly, she realized how ridiculous she must have appeared and how insane her behavior was. “Oh.” She thought quickly. “Just looking for my vitamins. Forgot to take them this morning.”

“Here.” Alex reached inside her messenger bag, and pulled out a bottle. “Take mine,” she offered and watched her companion pop the pill and chase it down with the entire glass of water. “You want this, too?” She pushed her own glass forward.

Shaking her head, Olivia sighed, and leaned back against her chair. “Thank you,” she said, visibly relaxed.

“You’re crazy.”

“You make me that way.”

“Good thing, I hope?”

“Very good thing.”

“Good,” Alex replied, her voice low, and with just a hint of sultriness to tease. Slinking further into her seat, she eased her foot between her lover’s legs, pushing them apart to make room. Slowly, she stroked along her lover’s calf, tracing the lean, well-shaped muscle.

Olivia shivered. “Sweetheart…”

“Want me to stop?”

“No. Please don’t.”

“Good.”

“You’re gonna kill me.”

“I intend to.” Pink lips curled into a smile. “Little deaths.”

“Not here. People can see.” To her disappointment, the gentle caresses ceased. Before she could protest, her companion scooted to her side. The scratch of metal legs against the ground made her shudder. “Sweetheart…” She swallowed when slender fingers slipped under her table napkin.

“Act normal.”

“Baby?”

“Just think: another ‘first’.”

The soft words and even softer touches made her tremble. “Alex…”

“My first,” she whispered, sharing her secret. “In public.”

The smile on the woman face made Olivia weak, it made her quiver. Seduced, completely, by the moment, irresistibly, she lowered her head towards the blonde’s. And uncontainable, she gasped, into the elegant curve of her neck…

32.

“I’m tired,” Olivia complained. “How much more of this do we have to see?”

Alex chuckled; she couldn’t help it. The whine in her lover’s voice had both amused and pleased her. She knew she was seeing a side of the detective that most people didn’t; and that made her happy, happier than any logic allowed. “I thought you wanted to go to the Louvre still.”

“Well… I feel like we should go.”

“Why? Just to see the Mona Lisa?”

“Yeah?” Olivia watched her companion’s lips, and saw the lingering smile. She knew the blonde was teasing her, but she didn’t care. For some odd reason, she felt extraordinarily clingy. **Maybe it was the public sex...** she wondered briefly, but avoided a full blown analysis. Rather than fighting the feeling of attachment, she stepped closer to the woman. “Something wrong with that?” She challenged both herself and her lover.

“No.” From the corner of her eye, Alex studied the brunette’s profile. Her features were soft and relaxed; perhaps not in a conventional way, but she was beautiful. **Maybe that’s part of Mona Lisa’s appeal.** She looped her arm through her lover’s, and felt warmth settle over her shoulders like a comfortable blanket. “We can go to the Louvre to see one painting.”

“I guess it’s kind of a waste, not to see the others.”

“Maybe we can go after we come back from Saumur? There’s so much more to the museum than the Da Vinci.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure we could spend weeks there, but we definitely don’t have time for that.”

“Then we’ll just have to come back another time, when we have weeks.”

“We will?”

“If you want to?”

Whether or not Alex meant it as a commitment promise, Olivia was going to treat it as such. “Okay!” She readily agreed, and pressed a kiss to her lover’s cheek.

Pink smile bloomed. “Glad you’re happy.”

“You make me happy.”

“I’m glad,” Alex sighed. “You, me, too.”

“I’m glad.”

“God, we’re such saps.”

Somehow it didn’t bother the detective to be foolish or sentimental; it never did, when it came to her lover. “Do people title scrapbooks?”

“I don’t know. Why?”

“That’s what our title could be: Saps in Love. And we can put little saplings underneath the words.”

“We?”

“I’m serious about helping.”

“Hm. Stoic, bad-ass, scrap-booking detective.” Alex smiled. “You know you’re handing me blackmail material on a silver platter.”

**What difference would it make, when my life’s already in your hand?** Olivia wanted to say, but that was decidedly too sappy. “That’s okay, I trust you with my life.”

Alex paused. She wasn’t expecting that sentiment; it was welcomed nevertheless. Lord knows she had trusted the detective with her life; she felt like the woman had saved her, many times while they were working together, quite literally. “Me, too,” she offered quietly.

“Good.”

“Good.” Silence settled over them; it was almost alarming, like they have issues they needed to resolve, or things they needed to say to the other, but not quite know how. Hoping to neutralize the sparkling tension, Alex asked, “What kind of sapling?”

“Huh?”

“For the scrapbook cover.”

“Oh. You can be buttercup,” Olivia said, her way of acknowledging to her lover that she had read her childhood journals. “Princess.”

Understanding passed between blue eyes and brown ones. In the end, Alex chose not to dwell on the matter; she didn’t like talking about herself or her past, and she was relieved she didn’t have to. “It’s a flower, I thought. Does it grow on trees?”

“Beats me.” Olivia shrugged. “You wanna be something else then?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm. Let me think…” She chewed on her lower lip. “Got it!”

“Yes?”

“Lemon.”

“You saying I have a pointy head? You’d better not…”

“No, no, no, flowers,” Olivia rushed to reassure. “The flowers are sweet, at least according to the Peter, Paul and Mary song.”

“Peter, Paul and Mary?” Alex laughed.

“My mom listened to them.”

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s okay.” Olivia smiled; and leaning over, she kissed away the solemn thinning of her lover’s lips. “So how’bout it?”

“If I’m a lemon tree, then what are you? Grapefruit?”

“You saying I’m sour?”

“Hm. How’about orange, they’re sweet, and sun-kissed. Get it?” Alex brushed her lover’s cheek lightly. “Sunkist, sun-kissed? Like you?”

Olivia laughed; she took hold of the woman’s hand, and brushed a kiss in the center of her palm. “Next you’re gonna want me to color my hair.”

“Well…”

“I knew it!”

“Maybe not orange-orange.” The scowl on the brunette’s face made Alex grin. “Okay, definitely not. But how’bout highlights? Maybe a caramel glaze? It sounds really yummy.”

“A yummy head?”

“You said it.”

“Huh?” Then she saw the mischievous blue glint and caught the double entendre. “Alex!”

33.

“Hey, where are we going?”

“Over there.”

“But the Eiffel Tower…” Olivia pointed to the structure right in front of them. “I thought we were going…”

“I’ve actually never been up there.”

“Really?”

“Why do you look so surprised?” Alex arched her brows to counter her lover’s. “Have you been to the top of the Statue of Liberty?”

“Well, no.”

“Okay then.”

“Then where are we going?”

“Just follow me.” Alex took her lover’s hand and guided her down the narrow street.

“What’s this?” Olivia asked, surprised when the woman stopped before a short building. The façade was plain, almost austere when compared to the frou frou opulence of the other residences in the area.

“We used to stay here, when it was just my mom and I.” Alex pointed to the roof terrace. “From there, especially at night, the view is beautiful. You can see all sorts of lights reflected in the river, even the outline of the Tower.”

At that moment, the detective was much more interested in the hint of nostalgia in her companion’s gaze. It lingered for a brief instant, and then she blinked. When blue eyes opened once more, they were again as clear as the sky above. “I’ll bet,” she said, in awe with what she was allowed to witness.

“This was my great-grandmother Michelle’s escape, when she was young.”

“Escape? Why?”

Alex shrugged. “From the public eye, I imagine. Before she married Bernard, she was a concert violinist,”

“Right, your mom told me.”

“Well, then.” Alex turned to face her lover. “I guess I don’t need to tell you that part,” she said with an open smile.

“Tell me anyway,” Olivia requested. “I want to hear your story.”

“Really not much of a story.”

“Still.”

With a slight dip of her head, Alex let her lover know she had made up her mind. “When I was younger,” she revealed instead, “I thought about living here.”

“Moving living?”

“Maybe.”

“Here, here?” Olivia looked up at the building.

“Probably. And I would’ve gone to Sorbonne.”

“Why didn’t you?”

If Alex had heard the catch in her lover’s voice, she chose to ignore it. “Thing just didn’t work out that way,” she provided almost emotionlessly, as if it had not been that important. “Aren’t you glad though? Otherwise, we may not have met.”

Olivia sighed. “That’s true,” she said, and offered a toothy grin. “So, are we going up?”

“No.” Blonde head shook. “It’s rented out; besides, it doesn’t belong to my mother. We were just borrowing it.”

“I understand… It’s a shame though.”

“But maybe some day, we can come back…”

“I’d love that, absolutely!”

With one last look, Alex tugged at her lover’s arm. “Let’s go,” she suggested, and began retracing her steps.

“Where to next?”

Alex smiled an impish smile. “You’ll see.”

34.

“Is that…?” Olivia asked as they approached the end of the walkway, referring to the statue facing the Seine.

“Yep. A mini version.”

“How cute.”

“Cute?”

“It is, kind of. You don’t think so?” The brunette walked around the stone pedestal, admiring the green patina on the bronze. “A mini Lady Liberty.”

“When I missed home, I would come here.” Softly and slowly, Alex spoke, as if she were retelling a dream. “She’s supposed to be facing ours, you know?”

Olivia looked up. “Ah...”

“They say James Joyce and Sam Beckett came here a lot.”

Behind the bit of tourist trivia, underneath the woman’s slight smile, Olivia saw an unexpected vulnerability. Was she missing home? Was that why they were here? The brunette wanted to crack a joke, to lighten the air around them, but her brain had chosen that moment to freeze. “That’s interesting,” she only managed.

“They didn’t come together of course,” Alex appended, with a dry laugh.

“Of course,” Olivia echoed. She wanted to wrap her arms around her lover and tell her everything would be all right. **But would it? Really?** What made her think she could play caped crusader and reassure the woman? If she were in the blonde’s place, knowing all the risks involved going up against a Colombian drug cartel, would she have made the same choices? In the name of greater good? She didn’t think so. She was far more selfish for that. “You’re amazing,” she whispered, without meaning to.

“What?” The look on Alex’s face suggested she heard her companion’s sentiment.

“I’m serious. I would never have given up my home, my life, or the people I love…”

“What other choices did I have?”

“You could’ve taken the easy way out, and dropped the case. No one would’ve blamed you for it.”

“But that’s not how my mother raised me.”

“She wouldn’t have faulted you either.”

“It’s moot now,” Alex said. The harsh line of her jaw told her lover she wished to drop the conversation. “I have a life,” she maintained. “A pretty good one, I might add.”

“Yes, you do,” Olivia had to agree. “It’s just sometimes…”

“Liv.”

The detective knew it was both a warning and a request for her to stop, but she couldn’t. “Sometimes I miss you so much.”

“And I miss you.”

“It’s hard to say goodbye… Everytime…” She sobbed, despite herself. “It’s just getting harder and harder.”

“I know.” Alex sighed, and pulled the brunette into a tight embrace. “I feel it, too.”

Desperately, she inhaled her tears. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“I’m a mess.”

“It’s all right, Liv. You care.”

“I do.” Olivia nodded. “More than you know.”

“Don’t be so sure.” Alex smiled, and brushed her lips against her lover’s cheek, tasting salt. She never imagined her detective to be so emotional. Not like this. Somehow, the knowledge made her weak. “Liv,” she whispered.

“Yeah?”

When she dared to meet the brunette’s eyes, she found herself falling. “Liv,” she breathed, seizing her lover’s lips and drawing deeply. She clutched at her shoulders, almost frenziedly, as if trying to fuse their souls, as if needing to show proof that she, too, cared.

Suddenly, Olivia felt alive. She felt the sparks and tingles in every cell. “Alex,” she gasped, her hands finding and clasping the woman’s trim waist. Her mouth showered her with fevered kisses, as if nothing else mattered in the world. She was only vaguely aware, and she blindly followed, when her lover moved to the front of the statue, tugging her along.

And groaning, she turned their bodies. Using the strength of her legs, she trapped her slighter companion against the white stone. At the same time, her palms covered her breasts, her fingers trapping her rock hard nipples. She squeezed roughly, possessively, drinking in and swallowing her lover’s moans.

“God, Liv,” Alex pulled away and whimpered, before her lips were captured once more. This was dangerous, they could be seen, and worse, depending on the law, they could be arrested, she thought fleetingly. Somehow, none of that mattered as she rocked, her insides melting, against her lover’s thigh.

And she gasped, and bit down on her lip, when Olivia pulled away. She shuddered, when large hands lifted her off the ground, when chilled air then hot mouth covered her breast. She almost screamed when strong, confident fingers pushed against the center seam of her pants.

**Come. Baby, come, come,** Olivia silently willed. This was crazy, she knew. But she needed to do it; she simply had to. **Come,** she demanded, as her tongue, her hands worked her lover’s passion. “Let me,” she huffed, even though the blonde wasn’t objecting.

Alex was far from protesting. “Yes,” she encouraged, twisting brunette tresses in her fingers when the pressures increased. “Oh, god,” she moaned when she felt the familiar pulse that began as a tiny ache. And she held her breath, when the pulse grew into a ripple, when the ripple flowered in tempo with the staccato beating of her captor’s heart.

Olivia had sensed her fall, had felt her desire through the thick denim, and it electrified her. Her lover’s pleasure was more than her own, it was a prize, a gift, she concluded, her body following in a rush. “Love you,” she sighed, her legs rigid, bracing against the tide.

When the storm finally passed, slowly, carefully, she lowered her companion to the ground. Gently, she stroked her hair, soft curls sifting through her fingers like liquid gold. Like always, she wished they could stay like this forever.

“Damn,” Alex finally found her voice. “I can’t believe…” She laughed lightly, raising her hand to rub the color from her cheeks.

“I love you,” Olivia repeated, to secure her lover’s faith.

35.

On the wooden park bench the lovers sat, facing the Seine and away from what little foot traffic there was.

“When I read about it,” Olivia whispered, lifting her arm from the back of the bench and pointing lazily to the building across the river. “I thought it was a house.”

“A house?” Alex laughed lightly, her head resting in her lover’s lap.

“Well, they call it Maison de Radio-France. So naturally, I assumed it was a house.”

Blue eyes smiled into brown ones. “Looks more like a concrete drum to me.”

Olivia chuckled. “A drum?”

“It’s curved,” Alex justified, and caught her lover’s fingers in her own. “Watch it.”

“What?”

“You know what.”

“I can’t touch?”

“Not right now. You can later.”

“All right,” Olivia agreed with a long sigh. **One-Mississippi. Two-Mississippi. Three…** She counted until ten. Then she asked, “How’bout now? Can I touch now?”

”Liv!”

“It’s later.”

“God.” Reaching up, she ruffled dark tresses. “You’re such a kid sometimes.”

Taking the woman’s wrist, Olivia pressed her lips to her palm. “And other times?”

Alex pulled away. Then with her hand around the back of her lover’s neck, Alex drew their heads together. Gently, she kissed the brunette’s lips, her tongue slipping in, to touch, to stroke, and then stopping before their breathing grew ragged. “Other times you…” She sighed, and let the sentence dangle.

Olivia had felt her lover’s shiver, just as she felt her own. A rush of sensations and emotions hit her: if she could freeze time, she would do it this instant. She knew, for a fact, this was as close to heaven as she would ever be. Before she could relay her feelings, Alex spoke.

“Should we go to the Moulin Rouge?”

“When?”

“Tonight?”

Setting her own agenda aside, Olivia asked with interest, “Any particular reason?”

“Not really.” Alex shrugged. “Just thought you might like to take in a show.”

“Don’t tell me your mom took you there.”

“Of course not!”

“Do you want to go?” Olivia offered. Struck by her own unexpected lack of jealousy, she added, “We can go see it if you want.”

“Do you?”

“Honestly?” With her lover’s blessing, she provided. “Not really.”

“You have absolutely no interest?”

“Why would I?” When Alex shrugged again, Olivia explained, “They’re show girls.”

“So?”

“Doesn’t it bother you?”

“Not really. They’re getting paid to do a job, in this case, dance, which they do very well. Besides, it’s not like they’re hooking,” Alex said, grabbing her lover’s hand and trapping it against her stomach. “They’ve got nice legs.”

**Is this a test?** Olivia wondered silently. “You’ve got nice legs.”

“Not their boobs.”

“I love your boobs. They’re perfect.”

“You have to say that.”

“No, I don’t.” Now Olivia was certain she was being tested. “All right, I do,” she smiled widely, realizing she had the correct answer. “But even if I didn’t, I still would think your boobs are perfect.”

“Good save,” Alex praised.

“You know I love you.”

“I know. And I love you.”

“I hope you know, Sweetheart, you’re ‘it’, for me,” Olivia said, and held her breath.

With a crooked smile, Alex replied, “You’re ‘it’, for me, too, Liv.” Almost shyly, she reached up, to touch, to tuck her lover’s hair behind her ear. “You have been, from the start.”

“I have?”

Alex nodded, secretly pleased with her lover’s squeak. “As much as I like you in blue, you should breathe.”

Olivia laughed and drew in a big gulp of air just for show. “There. Happy?”

“Happy happy.”

36.

Either by chance or by deliberate design, the lovers found their way back to Michelle’s pied à terre. If it was the latter though, it wasn’t Alex’s doing. **Not consciously.** She pursed her lips and tried to catch her lover’s eye.

“This is really cool,” Olivia said, her gaze traveling between the terrace and the river, as if trying to figure out the exact view visible from above. “That your great-grandmother lived here. I mean, that you know where she lived.”

“I guess.”

“You guess!” Olivia turned and stared at her lover, surprise evident on her face. “I think it’s wonderful, to be able to trace your roots. I can hardly wait.”

“For what?”

“To see the inside of this place. I’m sure it’s awesome,” Olivia went on excited, oblivious to her companion’s unease. “I can’t wait ‘til we come back.”

**Should I tell her now?** Alex wondered to herself. **Sooner or later she’ll find out… Even when the staff didn’t give it away, she’ll find out when Cousin Nicole shows up…**

“We are coming back aren’t we?”

“Thought we covered that already?”

“Yes, I just wanna make sure.”

The wide smile on the brunette’s face had Alex convinced. “Liv?”

“Yeah, Sweetheart?”

“There’s something I haven’t told you...” She began hesitantly.

The blonde had sounded and looked so serious, Olivia became alarmed. “What is it, Baby?” She asked as gentle as possible, intoning her voice carefully so that it did not betray her unsteady nerves. “You can tell me.”

“It’s really not that important,” Alex laughed, a little.

“Whatever you have to say, it’s important, to me.”

“Well… Actually, my great-grandparents had a place in Saumur.”

“Okay? And? Can we see it when we get there?”

“Yes, that’s the plan.”

“That’s great!” Olivia half cheered, her excitement dampened by her concern. “Now what were you going to tell me?”

“That’s it.”

“That’s it?”

“Yes,” Alex promised. “Why?”

“The way you acted.” Olivia looked away, embarrassed by her admission. “I thought you were going to tell me you had a husband somewhere, or something.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“It’s okay.”

Despite the woman’s reassurance, Alex felt guilty. She felt like she should explain, “I was just… I’ve been nervous.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know how you’ll feel…”

“About what?”

“Visiting my great-grandparent’s house… My roots,” she used the brunette’s words.

Olivia’s eyes met her lover’s. There was more than just a hint of sadness dulling the normally brilliant blue. Reaching out, she cupped the pale face with her palm, feeling gratified when Alex leaned into her touch. “I want to know everything about you, including your family.”

“Are you sure? You don’t mind?”

“Of course. Why would I mind?”

Unable to provide reasonable grounds, Alex shrugged. “I don’t know. Just being a worry-wart I guess.”

“Are you afraid it might hurt my feelings?” Olivia asked gently, watching her lover for her reaction. “That I’ll feel bad, since my roots are less than illustrious?”

“It’s not that!” Vehemently, Alex denied. “I don’t think you should ever feel bad about where you come from. It’s not like you had a choice in the matter,” she defended her lover’s background out of habit. “I can’t stand it when you…”

“Shh…” Olivia smiled; even though not too long ago she wouldn’t have, today she did. “I know, Sweetheart, I know. You helped me see that.”

Taking a deep breath, Alex calmed enough to read her lover’s emotion laid bare before her eyes. “Okay.”

“But I have to admit, I am envious.” Silencing pink lips with her fingertips, Olivia continued, “I just wish I knew more about my mom, who she was before she became an alcoholic. I wish I knew my grandparents better, like where they came from, et cetera.”

“I’m sorry you don’t know more… about your roots.”

“Don’t be. It’s not like I have a choice in the matter,” Olivia said with a crooked grin. “But maybe I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

“Why?”

“For borrowing yours and getting excited about things I found out?”

“Liv!” Alex laughed, and took her lover’s hand in her own. Suddenly, she understood. Stripped of her uncertainties, she beamed. “It’ll be my pleasure to share.”

37.

“Are you okay?” Olivia asked, her eyes more on her lover than on the world famous painting before her.

“Yeah, why?”

“You just look… spacey?”

Alex stifled a yawn. “Maybe just a little tired.”

“You wanna go somewhere and sit for a bit?”

**Where?** Alex was tempted. She searched her recent memory. The only stone bench she saw was several rooms away, and it had as much appeal as the steps of Grand Central. She wanted somewhere quiet, preferably secluded.

“Sweetheart?”

“Huh? Oh, yes, that would be nice.” Alex smiled, and took her companion’s hand. “Do you mind?”

Olivia shook her head. **Where are we going?** She wanted to ask, but decided to keep silent and followed her lover down the corridors. As they moved from room to room, she glanced at the pieces of artwork with gilded frames and found herself decidedly blasé towards the whole experience. **Too many museums.** She made up her mind to say something, unless that museum-hopping was what the blonde wanted to do.

Finally, they stopped at a glass door. She blinked at the bright sun reflecting off the lush green shining through.

“Voila!” Alex said, and moved along the white stone walls, until they were near the corner of the courtyard garden.

“Uh…” Olivia’s eyebrow rose as her lover lowered herself to the floor without ceremony. “Should we be doing this?” She couldn’t help but laugh when the woman looked up expectantly and grinned.

“Who’s going to stop us?”

“The guards?”

“We’ll move when they make us.” She waited for Olivia to settle cross-legged against the other side of the corner; she then turned around and placed her head in her lover’s lap.

“You do realize we’re on the floor.”

“Your point?”

“That’s so not like you.”

“It’s not like you either.”

The playful smile on pink lips reminded Olivia of an intentionally ill-behaving child challenging authority. Somehow, she found that incredibly charming, almost bewitching. Then, she noticed the tinge of tension in her lover’s eyes. “Headache, Sweetheart?” She asked.

Without waiting for an answer, nimble fingers settled along her brows and worked the ridges. Alex sighed, in relief, as the pressure ebbed. It was never the heroic things that Olivia did for her job, but the little things that showed her caring, that tied strings around her heart; although the former just gave her more reasons to be starry-eyed.

“Better?”

Alex nodded and sighed again, this time in total contentment.

“This is nice,” Olivia leaned back and commented on her surroundings. “Wish we had a house like this,” she said, not thinking. Then she froze, realizing how the statement sounded.

Without skipping a beat, Alex replied, “You know this used to be a hunting lodge.”

There was laughter in her lover’s voice. It was unsettling. At the same time, Olivia was grateful for the reprieve. “What’s there to hunt, in the middle of Paris? Rats?” She asked, her eyes widened in exaggerated humor.

“If they were anything like the ones we have in the City…”

“True. I’m sure the whole city was some sort of imperial playground and this a place for them to hang out and meet their mistresses.”

“Probably.” Alex shrugged. “Speaking of women…” She whispered, and caught her companion’s hand. Gently, she pressed a kiss to each finger tip that had eased her pain. Then she slipped the last finger between her lips.

Olivia felt the moist warmth surrounding her index finger, her lover’s tongue tugging at her flesh as neatly as she would elsewhere on her body. This was payback for earlier, she knew. But a corner in the open courtyard garden of one of the major museums was not the same as an off-the-beaten-path site that most locals didn’t care and tourists didn’t know about. “Baby,” she whimpered, her breathing hitched. In response, sensuous mouth stopped and let go. At once, she felt the loss and the emptiness.

“Did you not want me to stop?”

She shook her head and swallowed. “But you should… Now what were you saying about women?”

Alex reached up and patted the woman’s cheek. “Are you sure you don’t want to check out the Moulin Rouge?”

“Why?” Olivia tried to read her lover’s expression. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to go, at least to see the wind mill…” She hedged.

“There are other areas of Montmartre I’d like to go.”

The hesitant voice piqued her curiosity. “Oh?”

“You know, the Sacré-Coeur… And the cemetery, maybe we can find Truffaut’s grave…”

Blue eyes were evading hers in a familiar way that made her grin. “And?”

“There are shops…”

“Interesting shops?”

“Maybe?” Alex bit the cushion of her lower lip. It was aggravating how easily her lover saw through her. “Yes, I’m pretty sure you’d think so,” she said and managed to keep the color from her face. “Assuming they really exist. It’s possible that Ling made them up.”

“Just to see your reaction?”

“Something like that.”

“Mmm… How intriguing…” Olivia teased, starting when her lover hopped onto her feet. With a wide-eyed smile, she took the proffered hand and allowed the slender woman to pull her up. “We going now?”

Alex dusted invisible dirt from her clothes. “Nope.” She grabbed her companion’s hand once more. “We’re going to see what some old man with fuzzy eyesight did with his garden at Giverny.”

38.

“Okay, I think I’ve seen enough Impressionists to last a lifetime.”

“You didn’t enjoy the lilies?”

“They were… nice.”

“Nice?” Alex laughed. “That’s all?”

“Right now, the way I feel about museums, I’m being generous.”

“Take it you don’t want to see the others?”

Olivia wasn’t sure if it was disappointment she heard. “What others?”

“There’s the Maison de Balzac, and the Musée du Vin. We can eat there if you want.”

“Hm… I don’t know…” This, Olivia thought, was the perfect time to tell her lover she was re-thinking their itinerary. “Do we really need to learn wine-making?”

“My mom took me there.”

“Oh.” She swallowed a sigh. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt…”

“We don’t really have to go, Liv.” Alex smiled and ruffled her lover’s hair, her way of showing the brunette that she was only playing. Then she added, “Oh, but if you want to hit Mickie D’s, we can do that instead.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“A McDonald’s? Here?” Olivia asked, aghast. The 16th arrondissement with all its “bon chic, bon genre” residents was the last place she expected to see the American fast food chain. **Suppose the tourists need to eat.** She jeered, “What, quarter-pounder with caviar?” That earned her a swat on the arm. “Hey!”

“Don’t be rude.” Straight-faced, Alex provided, “Filet-o-Lapin.”

“Rabbit? Tell me you’re joking.”

“Oh, I don’t know, it sounds pretty tasty to me.”

Suddenly, there it was, the winking grin. Olivia laughed and squeezed her lover’s hand. “Are you making a pass at me?”

“Maybe I am? Or maybe I’m really craving a rabbit sandwich.”

“Alex!”

“Liv!” She mimicked.

“I’m serious,” Olivia said, though she didn’t know what about. “Sweetheart.”

“So you don’t want to go back to the Palais de Chaillot? There are at least four other museums…”

Making sure her tone was raw and husky, Olivia murmured, “Baby.”

“Mmm?”

She had the pleasure of seeing blonde head snap up. “No more museums, not unless they have beds for rent.”

“Aren’t you at least a little bit hungry?” Somehow, Alex found her voice. “For food? We’ve been walking around all day.”

“Finally, you see my point.”

“What? Oh. Too much site-seeing?”

“For the time being, at least.”

“All right.” Alex beamed.

Suddenly, Olivia felt like she had willingly walked into a trap. **But how?**

“So what would you like to eat? Besides me.”

That left her almost speechless. “You pick. You know the city.”

“Then we should go to Angelina’s.” Alex all but cheered. “Their hot chocolate is to die for.”

It was most definitely a trap, Olivia decided. If at all possible, her smile grew wider. “Well then, Madame, lead the way, s’il vous plait.”

With an equally huge smile, Alex replied, full of flourish, “Certainement, Madame.”

39.

“Is that…”

“That’s the Louvre, down there.” Quickly, Alex pointed to their left, then to their right. “The Place de la Concorde’s over there. And the Tuileries Garden is right across the street,” she said, while pulling Olivia away from the Métro station.

“Waitaminute…”

“We can come back, after food.”

With a low laugh, Olivia followed along. Soon, they stopped. “You’ve gotta be kidding,” she gasped at the long line of people waiting. Apparently, they weren’t the only ones heeding the call of the chocolate god.

“It’s okay,” Alex said.

“But I thought you wanted…” Olivia maintained as they move passed their fellow tourists. “To eat here?” She finished with surprise when her lover let go of her arm and approached the maitre d'.

The man flashed a smile. “Follow me, please.” He led them through the crowded room and up the stairs to a corner table. Graciously, he and their waiter pulled out their chairs and helped them settle into their seats. “Please let me know if I may be of further assistance.” He bowed before disappearing.

Without wasting another second, Alex dived into the menu.

“What did you say to him?”

**Definitely didn’t tell him I’m related to Nicole d’Estin,** Alex thought to herself. If she had said that, she knew they would get a table equally quickly, and one in the main salon. But unless she had to, she would prefer not to use her family’s influence. **At least not for chocolate.** She winced internally at her own hypocrisy. “Only that we wanted a table up here. Why?”

“I don’t know… He seemed awfully nice.”

“The service is part of the experience here. So is the décor with the gilded marble and mirrors downstairs.”

“Ah.”

“A lot of people come here to see and be seen.”

“Kinda figured that.”

“Hope you didn’t mind we skipped those parts. I just didn’t want to wait.”

“Don’t blame you.” Olivia smiled and looked around the slightly dark and almost empty room. “Besides, it’s quieter up here. More intimate.” **And I really don’t care to be seen by others,** she told her lover with her eyes.

“Yep.” Cheerfully, Alex agreed. She closed her menu with gusto and licked her lips. “So do you know what you’re getting?”

“What’s good?”

“Hot chocolate. And pastries. Chocolate pastries.”

Olivia checked her watch. “What are we doing for dinner?”

“I don’t know. What do you want to do for dinner?”

“Hm.” Brown eyes lingered around the handful of non-dessert items. “We can just eat here. They have salads and quiches. I think I saw people eating them when we walked by…”

Alex made a face. “You’re going to get a salad? Here?”

“I’m thinking about it. Why?”

“We’re at a restaurant known for its desserts, Liv.”

“I know.” Olivia replied with a cheery smile. “We can have dessert after dinner.”

“Hm.”

The look on the blonde’s face made Olivia ask, “What, Sweetheart?”

“Just thinking about when Ling and I first started college. We were living in the dorms.”

“Yeah?”

“They didn’t feed us over the weekend. So we ate apple pies and Snowballs out of the vending machine.”

Olivia wrinkled her nose. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. We were so sick by Sunday morning…”

“I’ll bet.”

“But you know what the best part was?”

“There was actually a good part?”

“Of course!” Alex tapped her lover’s foot with her own. “We didn’t have our mothers or Edith telling us what we could or couldn’t eat.”

“I see.” Olivia smiled, recalling her own mother’s caution. Serena Benson did care about her daughter. **At least when she was sober.** She shut down the thought and focused on the present. “No salad for you then?”

“Absolutely not!” Alex declared. “But if you get the quiche Lorraine, I might mooch a little,” she added with a quick grin.

“Quiche Lorraine it is.”

“Good choice. And you’ll help me with the chocolate?”

“You sure you wanna share?”

“Hm… You’re right, maybe you should get your own.”

“But different, just in case you want to mooch.”

The indulgent grin on her lover’s face warmed Alex to her core; she beamed. “Perfect.”

In return, Olivia smiled her crooked smile. “I try.”

40.

With half-lidded eyes, Alex stared up at the ceiling and watched the morning sun seeping through the drapes and bouncing off the crystal fixtures of the overhead light. Her hands clutching the fabric of her lover’s shirt, she made an almost startled sound when the gentle kissing stopped. Maybe the woman was finally going to stop driving her out of her mind. “Liv,” she sighed in encouragement, reaching for Olivia’s shoulders, hoping to speed up her lover’s ascent.

“Love you,” the brunette murmured, her arms slipping under pale blue broadcloth, her mouth seeking out willing full ones. Their lips crushed, their breaths rushed together. A grunt broke through her throat when she felt her lover’s legs sliding against her own. And she caught the slender hand snaking between their bodies.

Pulling away, Alex let out a frustrated sound. “Liv!”

Then wordlessly, Olivia captured her lover’s other wrist, and gently, she drew the woman’s arms over her head, holding them outstretched.

This wasn’t the first time Olivia had imprisoned her like this. Maybe the cliché about lawyers and judges wanting to give up control really was true. She loved the feeling of submission, of the weight of her companion’s heavier and more muscular figure pinning her down. And her body reacted accordingly, her thighs lolling open in anticipation.

Holding her lover’s gaze, the brunette pressed her pelvis forward, slightly harder when she met resistant. “God,” she moaned, inching slowly, until their hipbones met. “You’re so… effing tight,” she whispered, not offering any apologies.

Alex arched up, to show her pleasure and need. “Please,” she said when her lover remained motionless. “Liv?”

Quite unexpectedly, Olivia chuckled and shook her head.

“What’s… so funny?”

“Just…” She shook her head again. “Never thought I’d like wearing a strap-on. Not in a million years and not quite this much.” She rocked her hips, for the sheer pleasure of seeing the blonde react. “And I think I envy…”

“Envy?”

“You know.” Olivia flushed. “It’s stupid.”

This time, it was Alex who laughed. “You mean you’re envious of Mr. Vibrator?” She took a wild guess.

Somehow that was not what the brunette expected. “Huh? What?” In response to the question in her lover’s eyes, she explained. “I was just saying I wish I could feel through it, you know? What are you talking about?”

“Never mind.”

“No, wait. Were you telling me about your first time?” The darkening pink cheeks confirmed her speculation. “Mr. Vibrator?” No, that was not what she expected at all.

“Well, Ms., considering I was the one holding it.”

“You… Yourself?”

“Ling and I both did, not together.” Having successfully willed her embarrassment away, Alex offered plainly. “We were in our own room, alone.”

“Really? Why?”

She shrugged. “Just didn’t want to let someone have that kind of power over us, I guess.”

“Ah”

“And there’s the commodity factor. We went to schools with girls who probably sold it to the highest bidder.”

“It.”

“Their virginity.”

“Oh, right,” Olivia said, even though she had previously understood. “That’s… wow. I guess I could see that. Can’t see either of you doing that though.”

“And we made sure we couldn’t.”

“And there’s the burden factor, right?” She threw in her two cents. “I’m sure you’d want to spare the person, whomever it was.”

“Burden?”

“You know, of being your first. Anyone’s for that matter. But maybe burden’s not the right word… Like, cut the strings before they can attach?”

“A burden.”

“Well, the boy knows he was the girl’s first, so he does the right thing and marry her, and they stay together unhappily ever after.” The brunette expounded, “That happened a lot where I grew up. You’d call it Catholic guilt.”

That was definitely not how Alex had anticipated their discussion would go. **Too late to turn back now.** Playing it cool, she said, “That’s stupid.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“But you’d do it. I mean, be the responsible boy.”

“I don’t know… Part of me likes to think that I would. I’d try to work it out, the relationship. I mean, somebody gave you a gift. They had expectations, and it’d be wrong to…”

Alex had had enough; she cut her lover off. “That’s so medieval.”

“I’d like to say ‘honorable’.”

She arched again, sensually, pushing against Olivia, moaning, reminding the brunette of her susceptible state. And hiding the sting she felt, she whispered huskily, “Then why don’t you do the honorable thing now, and stop making me wait?”

With her lover’s encouragement, Olivia shifted her weight. “Like that?” She hummed, to the improved ease of her strokes, to the seductive slick noises they made. She gasped, when full, luscious lips seized hers with bruising force.

And Alex got lost in the sensation of their bodies, their breaths rushing together once more…

41.

“Ow!” Exaggeratedly, Olivia rubbed her head. “What was that for?”

“You know what for, perv!”

“You know I could wave him over.”

“Right.” Alex eyed the smiling gendarme, who was clearly amused by their display. “You’re going to complain to the French police that I hit you with a baguette?”

“A deadly baguette.”

“I’m surprised you could say that straight-faced.” Alex laughed. “And a pervert deserves to be beaten over the head.” She tapped her lover again with her breakfast.

“So maybe you should go over there and beat him.” Olivia tossed her chin at the blue uniformed man patrolling Place Igor Stravinsky, probably to make sure no one sat on the edges of the fountain. “He’s been leering, too.”

“Right.”

“Is it me or do they look wimpy in that preppy sweater and that stupid little cap?”

“They do carry guns.”

“They just look more like Lotharios than cops.”

“Hm.” Alex thumped the brunette again. “Must take one to know one.”

“I’m not a womanizer!” Olivia defended, and then she added, a corner of her lips lifting, “At least not generally.”

“Oh, so you do admit to sometimes being one.”

“I admit to always trying to seduce one woman.”

“Hmph.”

Gently, Olivia removed the baguette from the woman’s hand, and tugged until she shuffled over to stand between her knees. She looked up, against the sun, to catch blue eyes. “Why are you so cranky?”

“I’m not.”

“We could go back to the hotel…”

“Let’s not.”

The swiftness of that reply smarted, but Olivia shook it off and tried again. “We’ve got all those other toys we bought from that interesting little shop… that we haven’t tried.”

“Is that really what you want to do?”

“I want to do whatever that makes my baby happy,” she said sincerely.

It was corny and mushy and nauseatingly sweet, but because Olivia always seemed genuine, it got to Alex every time. She stepped back, and moved to her lover’s side.

Olivia smiled when the woman joined her on the stone bench, and tipped her head when blonde one leaned into her shoulder. “Nice day,” she said good-naturedly.

Her edginess slipping away, Alex nodded, and tore a piece from her bread.

“Thank you.”

The easy way her lover accepted her peace-offering made her sigh. It wasn’t Olivia’s fault. They were having a purely academic discussion as far as the brunette was concerned, she was sure. It wasn’t fair for her to be mad at Olivia for one of the very things she loved about her. “You’re honorable,” she said.

“I try to be.”

“Is a good quality, don’t lose it.”

“Not planning on it,” Olivia replied, wondering where the conversation was leading. When her lover remained silent, she supplied, “Aren’t you going to apologize?”

“For what?”

“Calling me a womanizer?”

“Sorry I called you a womanizer.”

“That doesn’t sound very sincere.” She shrugged and looked inwards. “Although I suppose it was true… There was a time…”

“That’s okay, Liv.” The regret in her lover’s voice made Alex sad. “I’m not judging. It was just a joke, and I’m sorry. And I’m sorry for being cranky.”

Gladly, Olivia let the spotlight go. “Wanna tell me why?”

“It’s just…” This was her chance to tell her lover the truth, Alex thought. But the last thing she wanted was to trap Olivia in their relationship. If God forbid it didn’t work out, she didn’t want her to stay simply because her sense of honor demanded it. “You were leering,” she provided the most obvious reason, one she knew her lover would readily accept.

“And drooling.”

“Exactly, like a cartoon wolf.” Alex accused with a smile. “And we should see Paris, while we can, and not spend our last day in bed.”

“We’re coming back in a week. But I guess you’re right, we should see the sights. And more museums,” OIivia added, making a face.

“Would you rather not?”

“No, no,” Olivia reassured. “I want to.”

“Just because I do?”

“Well, at least one of us gets to do what she wants, if we’re not going back to the hotel. One tourist spot is the same as another for me.”

“You sure?”

“I do expect reward.” Olivia grinned. “For my patience.”

“Hm…” Alex smiled. “I know, we can go shopping, later.”

“Shopping?”

“Paris is a shopper’s paradise, oui?” She pressed a kiss to her lover’s cheek and whispered seductively, “Think pink.”

“Oui, oui!”

42.

The women were approaching the Centre Georges-Pompidou when Alex stopped dead in her tracks and pulled Olivia to the side. “Am I seeing things?” She whispered. “Is she…?”

“Stop Staring.”

“She’s naked! And so is she!” Had they been in Nice, on the beach, Alex would not have been surprised. But they’re in the middle of Paris, in broad day light.

“Just topless, not naked,” Olivia said, as if she had seen it many times before.

“Just topless? Just?”

“They’re probably artists, or something.”

It was possible. There were many young people with purple and green hair and opened sketchbooks sitting on the floor of the square. Maybe these two were performance artists, like street mimes, except topless. “You think?”

Olivia shrugged. “We are in Dykebourg.”

That was definitely not a term Alex was familiar with. “You mean Beaubourg.”

“Let’s go.”

Reluctantly, Alex let her lover pull her towards the multi-colored glass and concrete building.

“You’re acting like you’ve never seen naked women before.”

“I’m… Just surprised, I guess.” Somehow she couldn’t peel her eyes away. “Is she wearing nipple rings?”

Olivia shook her head and sneered. “I’m sure she’s also got a nose ring, a lip ring, and brow ring, and some others we can’t see.”

“Oh, my, look at the other one’s tattoo.” An intricate design that flowed from her chest to her back. “It’s beautiful. God, can you imagine the work that went into it?”

“I can imagine the pain.”

The woman caught Alex looking and smiled. Before she could return the gesture, her lover tugged on her hand.

“Sweetheart, you should stop staring.” Olivia demanded. “They’ll think you’re interested.”

“But, Liv…”

“You’re acting like a tourist, Alex. Let’s go look at the pretty Picassos.”

“Pretty Picassos?” Alex stared at her lover for a long moment. “Pretty. Picassos. You hate Picasso.”

“Fine. Pretty Miros and Chagalls and Matisses and whatnots.” Olivia turned away, and began walking towards the elevator with the blonde in tow.

“What nots?”

“Let’s just go.”

“Liv? You haven’t seen the building.”

“Sure I have. You can’t miss the blue and yellow and green and red pipes all over the place. And we’re going up the escalator hanging out on the side of the building,” Olivia finished in a breath. Then she added, “Now let’s go see your modern art.”

Silently, Alex watched her lover whip the bills out of her wallet and pay the entrance fee. Again, she let the brunette take her hand and entered the second set of escalators. Finally, leaning into her lover’s back, she spoke, “I know what’s going on.”

Visibly, Olivia’s shoulders tensed. She willed them to relax. “What’s going on?”

“You’re jealous.”

“I’m not.” She turned around and added quickly, “Of what? What should I be jealous about?”

Alex smiled sweetly. “Actually, nothing.”

“Huh?”

“I was just gawking at the women like a naïve tourist.” Moving to the left, she began walking up the remaining steps of the escalator.

Olivia followed quickly behind, stopping when her lover did. “Half-naked women,” she reminded, staring out the glass pane at the panoramic view of the City.

“You see them all the time.”

“They’re vics, and sometimes they’re dead, Alex!”

“And sometimes they’re beautiful strippers you interview who I’m sure wouldn’t mind getting a taste of one of New York’s finest.”

“I…”

“You forget, I’ve met them.”

“And you got jealous.”

“And you told me I shouldn’t have, though not in so many words.”

At the reminder, Olivia smiled. “I don’t think I used words at all.”

“Well.” Alex rested her eyes on her lover’s mouth only a breath away. “Unfortunately, I can’t ravish you right here. I don’t think the cops will buy the performance art excuse.”

“You don’t think?”

Smiling and reaching out, she traced her lover’s arched brow with her finger. Then she closed her eyes, and sealed their lips, conveying all her feelings in a kiss…

43.

“They look weird,” Olivia spoke over her café au lait. “Facing the streets like that.”

Alex glanced at the patrons sitting out on the terrace and smiled. “Reminds me of school.”

“Lecture halls. Yeah.”

“You learn a lot people watching, I guess.”

“I guess. They just look weird all sitting like that.”

“I guess.” Alex laughed lightly, and turned her cup around. It was nice sitting with her lover like this. Something about the stark black and white decor and the slick marble floor made the café look un-French. To her, France was old and soft and slow, comfortable in its way. Meanwhile, this place was cold and harsh in its elegance; it reminded her of New York. If she looked only at the hands of the woman sitting across from her, if she closed her eyes and imagined her in her leather jacket, she could believe she was home. She could pretend she was still Alexandra Cabot, ADA in Manhattan… She shook her head. “How’s your café au lait?”

“Good.” Olivia smiled, unaware of her lover’s thoughts. “Now I can say I’ve had real French coffee.”

“Does Elliot know?”

“That I’m here in France with you?”

Alex nodded, and sipped from her tea.

“He wants souvenirs,” Olivia replied. “I figure we could pick up some tee shirts for everyone at the airport or something.”

“We could stop before we get back to the hotel; there are tons of souvenir shops along the Champs-Elysée. Although it would make more sense if we waited until next week.”

“Maybe we can pick up a coupla bottles of wine. Isn’t Rosé d’Anjou one of the area’s traditional specialties?” Olivia added with a self-satisfied smirk. There was a time when wine was just red or white and it was what her mother drank in public, when she tried to hide her alcoholism. Being with Alex changed that. Being with her had changed her in many ways. She was no longer a flawed bastard who tried to do good, to expunge her parents’ sins. Cliché as it may be, through her lover’s eyes, she saw herself as a diamond in the rough. All she needed was some help from a patient gem-cutter who spotted the inner shine and believed in her worth, and Alex had certainly done that.

Deeply, Alex smiled her approval. She knew her lover was trying to impress her. “We could do that. When we get to Saumur. I’m sure the owner won’t mind if we raided the cellar.”

“Whatever works. The guys are not picky.”

“They should consider themselves lucky that you remember to bring them anything?”

“Exactly.”

Alex let her smile linger. “So how are Casey and Serena, and everyone else?”

“If you’re asking how Casey’s doing as our ADA,” Olivia guessed, and took her lover’s hand. “She’s all right. She has heart. But not your delivery.”

“You mean she’s not as cold-blooded?”

The sound of the blonde’s snigger told Olivia more than she needed to know. “She’s greener.”

“She cares more than just social ladders.”

“You did, too.” Olivia held her lover’s gaze. “Everyone saw through that façade of yours, a long time ago. That’s why they still missed you, and they still loved you. But not as much as I do, of course,” she finished with a crooked smile.

“Of course. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Alex gave the larger hand a warm squeeze. “So what’s for dinner?”

“Dinner?” Olivia laughed; she welcomed the change of subject. “I thought we’re having lunch.”

“We are. But it’s never too early to plan.”

“You said something about Georges? When we were back at the Pompidou Center?”

“We could see the city light up from there. It’s beautiful.”

**We could see the city light up from our terrace suite, too. And order room service.** Somehow, at that moment, it didn’t seem appropriate to say that. Instead, she considered her lover’s offer. “Hm…”

“Or we could go somewhere else.”

“How’bout we play it by ear?” Olivia offered. “You know what though? I’m ready for tomorrow, when we can do nothing, just peace and quiet and the two of us in the Loire Valley.”

“You forget the hotel staff.”

“Ah, but not all the museums here.”

“We only saw one museum so far.”

“Yeah, but how many by the end of the day?”

“One? Maybe two?”

“In addition to the last one.”

“Yes, Liv.”

“When are we going shopping?” Olivia let her voice take on a slight whine of impatient anticipation, letting her lover know she wasn’t talking about souvenirs for the boys.

Catching on, Alex smiled a slow smile, and picked up her fork. “Later?”

“How much later?”

Part of the fun was in the waiting; that was what Olivia had always told her. She took a bit of her salad and chewed slowly, swallowed, and finally wiped her lips with her napkin. Only then did she reply, “Why?”

“You’re being mean.”

“And you’re acting like a little kid,” Alex retorted with a raised brow.

Who said there was fairness in love and war? Olivia decided and licked her lips. “A little kid who can’t wait to sample all the candies in the shop and…”

“Liv!”

“And stick her fingers in the cookie jar.”

“Olivia.”

With widened eyes, the brunette asked, “What?”

“Look who’s being mean.”

“Not me, I’m just getting insurance,” she said, her leg brushing against the inside of her lover’s calf. “And I’m looking forward to the pay off.”

It wasn’t fair, the way her body betrayed her, how it reacted so screamingly willingly to her companion’s touch. Olivia knew it, and used it to her advantage. There was no such thing as fairness in love, Alex came to the conclusion. **Suppose there are no losers in our game either, at least I hope…** She closed her eyes and sighed, “Behave.”

44.

“Galerie Fait et Cause?” Olivia read the sign before they entered. She searched her memory for an entry in the guidebook and drew a blank. “Made and cause? That’s a funny name,” she whispered, following her companion through the door.

Alex nodded ‘bon jour’ to the gallery attendant, and grabbed a couple of the current exhibition catalogues. She handed one to her lover and kept one for herself. “It’s founded by an organization back in the 90’s, I think, called Pour Que l’Esprit Vive,” she replied, glancing through the thin literature. “Maybe something in the flier will tell you more,” she said, and looked around the space, to decide where to start first.

As instructed, Olivia began reading, and found herself unable to decipher the French, her focus drawn to the black and white photographs on the red wall. She joined the blonde. “That the spirit shall live?”

“Social documentary. That’s the gist of the work they show. About injustice.”

“Ah…” The detective stared at the haunting images of sea animals in different stages of death and decay. The carnage of oil spills from tankers and the fishing industry. “This is real?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Hm. Interesting,” she commented and walked on ahead. Reaching the center aisle, she found another photographer’s work displayed on top of a glass shelf. “Whoa!” This time they were children, and according to the brochure, victims of the AIDS epidemic in Africa.

Silently, Alex joined her lover, to stare at a catatonic infant held in her mother’s arms. The title consisted only of numerals told the audience how old the girl was when she was raped. Fighting the instinct to walk away, to return to the gorier but less disturbing pictures on the wall, she made herself stay.

“Wow.” Olivia ran her hand along the glass as she moved down the exhibit. She felt uneasy, like she was touching the evidence without gloves, her professional guards almost in place. “This is amazing,” she gasped at the anonymity and numbers.

Alex rested her eyes on the face of the child whose mother died when he was two years three months and five days old. “This is so sad.”

“Hope he doesn’t grow up with the disease.”

She heard the distance in Olivia’s voice, and reached for her hand. The fingers were hesitant at first, as if unaccustomed to her touch. Then abruptly, they clasped hers with such pressure her bones felt as if they were being crushed. “Hopefully,” she said. “Hopefully, the drugs will get to him before it’s too late.”

“Sometimes I wonder what’s more merciful…”

“Yeah,” Alex sighed. “I’m glad I don’t…” She stopped herself and let the sentence hang.

Olivia caught her lover’s down-cast eyes. “You don’t…?”

“I’m glad I don’t see stuff like this everyday,” the blonde admitted. “The cases I handle now, they’re different.”

**Are they really?** Teenage gangs and illegal immigration took their own share of victims. The detective held her tongue. “Different.”

“Sometimes the damage done was minimal.”

“Ah.”

“I saw a retrospective of another photographer’s work at the Whitney.” Softly, Alex began, as they reached the other side of the glass case. “The images, they were about gender, drugs, AIDS, abuse, they were so powerful. I thought if I weren’t a lawyer, that’s what I’d want to do. Actually, at one point, that’s what I wanted to grow up to be.”

“Be a photo journalist?”

“So I could expose the ugliness of our society to the world.”

“Wow,” Olivia said, even though the woman’s aspiration didn’t surprise her. She merely wondered why there were no mentions of it in her journals.

“But the law called.” Alex went on, without traces of regret, “Otherwise, I would’ve had the perfect venue with Destin.”

Olivia nodded. “But you had to follow the stronger calling.”

Ignoring her lover’s statement, Alex continued, “I’m sure Marty or my mom would’ve found ways to help.”

“You’d be famous.”

“Maybe. More likely, I’d try for the Pulitzer Prize or something and be totally crushed when I lost.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Try for the Pulitzer?” Alex laughed.

“You could be a photographer.”

“And work for peanuts?”

“Your mom would help, I’m sure.”

“At my age, Liv?” Alex laughed again. “I think I’m too old to sponge off my mom.”

“It wouldn’t be sponging if your work furthers your mother’s charities and causes. You’d be working for her.”

“No, thanks.”

“Why not?” Olivia asked. When Alex gave her a wilting look, she grinned. “Right. Too much parental scrutiny, pressure, and all the other stuff.”

“That, and I don’t know the first thing about photography. Beyond point-and-shoot.”

“That’s easy, you could take a class.”

“Right.”

“I’m serious. You yourself said you have more time now.” Olivia preempted her lover’s excuse. “Take a weekend class. Isn’t there a photography school or something not too far from your condo?”

“About fifteen, twenty minutes drive. Or I could walk.”

“See? Built in exercise, that’s even better,” Olivia encouraged; her excitement surprised herself. “I think you should look into it.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“If there’s a weekend intro class, I’ll even take it with you,” she promised and watched her lover’s face bloom unbidden into a smile. That was worth more than anything in the world, she decided. “I mean it.”

45.

“What do you think of this?” Alex held up a necklace made of colorful silk flowers and glass beads.

“Okay…”

“You hate it.”

“I just don’t think…” Olivia hedged. “It just doesn’t…” There was really no good way to say what she thought without getting in trouble. “I’m not sure…”

“It’s not really practical, is it?”

“Well,” she hid her relief, grateful for the way out. “Not if you want to wear it around your neck.”

“I guess you’re right,” Alex sighed, and moved to the purse rack. She touched all the materials and tried several of the designs before returning everything to its place.

“Nothing?”

“Not yet.”

“Maybe we could check out Mi Amor,” Olivia offered, playing with a business card for the sister stores she picked up by the cash register. “It’s just down the street.”

“We could do that too,” Alex replied as she fondled the hand-painted and hand-embellished scarves.

“But you want to finish here first,” the detective knew.

“Do you mind?”

“No, Sweetheart, not at all.” Feeling bad, she picked out two pairs of less outrageous dangle earrings and handed them to the cashier.

Alex turned around when the sale closed. “You found something?”

“Yeah, for Maureen and Kathleen.”

“Let’s see.”

Obediently, the brunette delivered the small bag to her lover’s hands.

“Nice.” Alex nodded her approval. “I can never get things like that for Ling, which is too bad.”

“Why not?”

“She’s too uptight. Liz, maybe, but not Ling.”

“Maybe you could get her a tote,” Olivia suggested helpfully. “Everyone needs totes.” She took two off the stand, and presented them to her companion. “Hell, get them both totes. And Casey and Serena, too. And voila! We’ll be done with half the souvenir shopping.” When the woman didn’t reply, she sighed. “I take it that’s a ‘no’?”

“Actually, I think that’s a great idea.” Alex smiled. She supposed her lover had a right to be impatient. They had been in the shop for over an hour and she still hadn’t found anything to buy. “It’s just…”

**Oh, Christ!** Olivia tried hard not to roll her eyes. “Yes, Sweetheart?”

“You’re right, we should check out Mi Amor.”

**Thank god!** Still, she volunteered, “You sure?”

Alex nodded, and led the way out of the shop.

“Merci beaucoup!” The sales woman greeted graciously in English, “Please come again.”

“Thanks for being so patient, by the way,” Alex acknowledged as they walked down rue du Pont Louis-Philippe.

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Sure it is. You think baubles are stupid.”

“Not all baubles.” Olivia smiled. Then, for the first time, she saw the haunted gray tint in her lover’s eyes. “Nice change after all the black and white photos,” she ventured. “Much happier.”

“Yeah.”

“I think the ideas are great and all, but I don’t understand how people can hang art like that at home,” she said, wanting to divert Alex’s attention from the images they saw at Fait et Cause but not quite know how.

“Me neither. I would want something happy and colorful, something that would help me relax at the end of the day.”

“Me, too.” The brunette nodded, and took her lover’s hand. “I’m glad we’re in agreement.” She said meaningfully, “Makes it easier, for future purposes I mean.”

Alex swore her heart was skipping beats. Hoping for clarification, she asked, “Oh?”

“How come you don’t wear the jewelry I gave you for Christmas?” Olivia demanded instead. “I thought you liked them.”

“I do.”

“Then why don’t you…”

“I’m waiting for the ring,” Alex replied.

All of a sudden, Olivia’s feet felt like lead. **Damn it!** Somehow, she stopped her hands from patting down her pockets and managed to find her voice. “I gave you a ring.”

“No, I mean the two and a half month salary one with the honking diamond.”

Brown eyes widened. “From Tiffany’s?” For some reason, that seemed the most logical response.

“From Tiffany’s.”

“Two and a half month of whose salary? A captain’s?”

“Whomever’s.”

“That’ll take forever.”

A small smile graced pink lips. “I’m a patient woman.”

Olivia almost laughed. “I guess I better get busy then. Her heart filled with unreserved jubilation, she hugged her lover’s fingers. As if on silver clouds and golden wings, she felt Amore carry her down the chosen path…

46.

“Bonjour!”

“Bonjour!” Olivia replied automatically. She cleared her throat and lowered her voice so it didn’t sound as high and tight as before. “Pink?”

“Yep,” Alex replied as she looked around the shop that had supplied her under garments for most of her adult life.

“Are you Americans?” The bubbly sales clerk asked. When Olivia stared back in shock, the woman’s smile grew. “Welcome to Fifi’s.”

Alex took charge of the situation and spoke up. “Thank you.”

**Do we have ‘tourists’ tattooed on our foreheads?** Olivia wondered as she moved deeper into the store. To the brunette’s surprise, her lover approached the woman with an extended hand.

“Madame Fifi?”

“Yes, have we met?”

“Only over the telephone,” Alex replied. “My mother sends her regards.”

“And your mother is?”

“Celine O’Bryan,” Alex said. Slightly awkward, she added, “And this is my friend, Olivia.”

“Allo, allo!” The proprietress pulled Olivia down by her neck to place kisses on her cheeks. “Friend of Alex’s. Oops. It’s Jaime, now, right? Your maman told me.” When Olivia stiffened, she whispered disarmingly. “Fifi didn’t ask why, she’s not a nosy personne.”

From a distance, the detective had assumed the woman was their age, maybe just a tad older. Now she saw the lines above the blood red lips and around her heavily made up eyes, and she realized the platinum white hair was natural.

Letting go of Olivia, Madame Fifi clasped the younger blonde in her arms once more. “Mon Dieu! You’re tall, like your grand-papa.”

Alex laughed. “My father…”

“Oh, oui, he was a handsome fellow, your papa, all of us girls swooned when he came speeding up to the house in his little red auto. Mon Dieu! To finally see you! Oh!”

Olivia looked on, her smile still frozen from before. She felt uncomfortable, like she was trapped in an old movie, when the woman embraced her lover, and kissed her on both cheeks, and hugged and kissed her again. **Hello? Does anybody remember me?** She wondered, only briefly. Then she wished she could hold onto this moment, precious because not many people had seen Alex so unguarded, and she was one of the chosen few.

This was a French version of Marty, the brunette evaluated their host and concluded, only more eccentric. Judging by the location and size of her store though, Fifi was also a sharp business woman. Celine Cabot’s choice of friends had amazed the detective. Perhaps, once upon a time, Alex’s mother was just like her schoolmates – unconventional and a little wild. Yes, she could see that. **But what changed her? Marriage to Alexander? Widowhood? Surely it wasn’t just guilt…**

“How long you two here in Paris?”

“We’re leaving for Saumur tomorrow,” Alex replied.

“Mon Destin! Have you been there, Olivia? Non? Oh…” Fifi smiled at the younger blonde. “Have you told her?”

“No. Not yet.”

Madame Fifi’s secretive smile and Alex’s hesitant reply took the detective aback. Before she could ask, the older woman patted her hand.

“Then you’re in for a real surprise. Don’t worry, it’ll be a good one. Fifi doesn’t lie, does she, Jaime?”

“No, she’s one of my mother’s best friends,” Alex replied charmingly, earning an approving wink from the proprietress.

“Now, are you here only to say hello? Or are you buying Fifi’s pretty under-things, too?”

“I was hoping to do both?”

“Bon!” She turned to Olivia. “And you? Did you see what Jaime’s mother got her for Christmas?”

“Er… Yes?” The detective wasn’t sure if it was an appropriate response. “They were very beautiful.”

“Perhaps you would like something similar for yourself?” This time she turned to Alex. “Would she like something similar, Jaime?”

“Maybe? Liv?”

Olivia could tell her lover was trying hard to act normal. “Um. Maybe something less… pink?”

“Ah! Fifi understands. Come, come,” she took both women by their arms and led them towards the back of the store, to the fitting area, stopping when they reached the last door. She took a gleaming gold key off her neck. “This is reserved for special customers,” she explained. “Wait, and Fifi will bring you pretty pink things and you, pretty but less pink things. D’accord? Fifi takes good care of you,” she said, and disappeared, leaving the two younger women to stare at each other…

47.

“Sorry, Liv, I don’t know what’s with the third person,” Alex was the first to whisper.

“Forget that. So this is where you get your day-of-the-week underwear?” Olivia wanted to know instead.

“And the others.”

“All the others?”

“Yes?”

“Wow.”

“Why?” Suddenly, Alex felt necessary to defend her shopping habit. “I like her designs. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

“I didn’t say there was.”

“And I haven’t heard you complain…”

“No, I think they’re beautiful. I’m just sorry I haven’t been more careful with some of them.”

“Shh… Not so loud.”

Olivia peeled the slender hand from her mouth and smirked. “Oh, I think she knows.”

“How could she?”

“Why would she put us both in here?”

“Because we’re friends?”

“And she’s French?” The brunette provided.

“No, actually, she’s American.”

“She is?”

“Her father had a clinic in one of the apartment buildings in my neighborhood.” Alex nodded and continued, “When it was mostly Polish and people die in their doctor’s office, my mom told me. Gives me the creeps every time I walk by, I’ll show you next time you visit.”

“Fifi is Polish American? With a French accent?” Somehow that was important to the detective. “A Wellesley grad, I assume?”

“I’m sure she’s a French citizen now. Maybe she lived here too long.” Alex shrugged. “Why are we talking about her?”

“Because we’re both nervous as hell?”

“Are we? Okay, but why?”

“Because we’re in a private room in a lingerie shop run by one of your mother’s friends, and we’re about to try on frilly Fifi things in front of each other? Naked?”

“Not if we have on Fifi things.”

“We have to get from point A to point B and that’ll require nudity, which might lead to point C,” Olivia offered her logic.

“We’re not animals, we can control ourselves,” Alex said with less conviction than she had hoped. “Why did I bring you here?”

“Because your mother told you to visit her old friend, and you couldn’t say ‘no’ to her?”

“Am I that easy to read?”

“And secretly, you want the thrill of doing it in a dressing room?” Olivia added wickedly. Sometimes, her lover was so easy to tease. **Too easy.** She had the beginning of a leer when a knock on the door made her jump.

“Yes,” Alex called out and opened the door.

“Oh. You’re still dressed. Here,” she handed a pile of hangers to each of them. “Try on. I think you’ll like,” she said and turned to Olivia. “Don’t worry. Fifi is discreet. She had a friend like you once, when she was a school girl.” She winked, and disappeared.

“Okay, she knows,” Alex concluded, calmly now that her ‘friend’ was blushing beet red. She put her garments on the rack, and took a step closer to Olivia. “I guess we shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” she said, and ran her fingers down the front of the woman’s shirt.

“Baby,” the brunette scolded, catching the slender wrist. “What if there are security cameras?”

“Don’t be silly. Maybe in the other fitting rooms, but not here.”

“But, Sweetheart…” Olivia protested, her last syllable ending in a squeak when her lover’s hands palmed her breasts. “It’s too…” Despite her words, she couldn’t fight her body’s reaction. She couldn’t deny the erratic beat of her heart that climbed into an erotic throb between her legs.

“Hm…” Alex bit down on the cushion of her lower lip. “Maybe you’re right,” she said, and let go, but not before pinching the hardened points between her fingers. “So, which one should I try on first?” She turned to the lingerie. “What do you…” Her question died when strong arms grabbed hers and spun her around. Their eyes locked.

A fly zipped open.

The next thing she knew she was kicking her detective’s feet apart like she were the police making an arrest. Before either of them could catch their breaths, she had her lover’s mouth, swallowing her moans. Her palm massaged her slick, bare sex. Her fingers worked back and forth, and in and out.

And back and forth and in and out, she stroked and plunged, until the flutter grew into a pounding pulse that squeezed her hand and seized her heart.

“Fuck,” she whispered, letting go of Olivia’s lips. “Fuck.” Her fingers moved deeper, unable to stop herself. Deeper and deeper, she wanted to reach in, to hold, and to become one with the woman pressed against the dressing room mirror. She stared into her companion’s dark eyes.

”Yes,” Olivia responded to Alex’s unspoken question. What she was asked, she didn’t know, only that she would acquiesce to anything. “Yes,” she sighed, her body blooming and exploding once more to her lover’s touch.

“Love you, Liv…”

Olivia could only gasp.

48.

Olivia felt dizzy, dizzy and high and giddy, as if she had had too much champagne. For some reason, she had been feeling that way since her lover kidded her about the two and a half month salary rock. Then there was the encounter in the dressing room of Madame Fifi’s lingerie shop; it made her head spin. It had robbed the air from her lungs and knocked her off balance. Even after they made their purchases and when Alex’s mother’s old friend gave her a knowing look, she couldn’t stop grinning.

And she was hungry. And she whined about being hungry, even though that needy tone would normally grate on her ears. Now they were on their way to a snack shop, and she could still feel that funny feeling inside her chest and at the pit of her stomach. She wished it would stop but at the same time, she wanted it to last forever. She thought she was drunk.

She knew she was in trouble when Alex smiled at her and all she wanted to do was to fall into her eyes. That, and she wanted to stand in the middle of the streets of Paris and tell her ‘je t’aime, je t’aime beaucoup’, so everyone could hear and would understand. And she would have done it, had she thought the blonde would approve.

“Love you,” she whispered instead, leaning in so her breath grazed her lover’s ear.

“You, too, Liv.” Alex squeezed the larger hand holding hers.

“How much?”

“Hm?”

“How much do you love me?”

“Lots?” Somehow that didn’t seem enough, not after what just happened at Fifi’s, not when her detective was still acting all cute and warm and fuzzy. So she added, “Much more than I thought I could love anyone.”

“For real?”

“Yep.” Alex smiled, slightly embarrassed. She felt like they were teenagers in love, innocent and carefree, with no concerns except for each other and their bodies’ pleasures. And she felt a little bad, as they were two grown women who had seen the worst of human behavior and had responsibilities towards mankind. But they were on vacation, she reminded herself. They had every right to indulge, especially in the Capitol of Romance. “Oh, here’s the City Hall,” she said, pointing to the building ahead, before they ducked into the narrow street behind.

“We’re there?”

“Almost. Still hungry?”

“Starved.”

“We could just go eat, you know?”

“Too early and you’re not hungry. Besides, this place sounds like fun.”

“Good,” Alex stopped in front of a shop. “Since we’re here.”

“The grocery store of the world?” Olivia looked up at the signage and shook her head. The shelves were cramped with colorful food stuff though, she had to admit. “Let’s go,” she pulled the door open and followed her lover in.

The store still looked about the same as it did when she was a child, Alex was glad. She grabbed a basket and bee-lined to the jam department, leaving her companion to explore on her own.

“All right, I stand corrected,” Olivia returned to the blonde’s side. “This place is a maze.”

“Or amazing.” Alex laughed, feeling a little naughty. “So, what do you think of this?” She showed her lover the jams she intended to purchase.

“Yummy.”

“Good, I’m looking forward to raspberry preserves and stuffed rabbit for dessert.”

“Alex!”

“What?”

“That’s…” Olivia was caught between wanting to laugh and swoon. “That’s a really bad pick up line.”

“Well, you know what they say about lying down with dogs.” She reached over and scratched her lover’s collar, intentionally tickling her skin with her nails.

“Whatever.”

Alex smiled at the brunette’s glow and offered reprieve. “So what have you got there?”

“Not sure, kind of like marzipan but not exactly. They have little cut up samples. Here, I brought you one,” Olivia explained, and slipped the small piece of candy into her lover’s mouth. Her breath stilled when pink tongue touched the tips of her finger and thumb. Was it accidental? She didn’t know.

“Halvah.” Alex chewed.

“Huh?”

“Sesame I think.” She swallowed and licked her lips. “Aunt Aileen makes them. Don’t you remember? She brought some to the Christmas dinner.”

“Hm… Can’t say I do. Something about it seemed familiar though; must be it. Anyway, I thought I’d get some,” Olivia said, putting the package in her lover’s basket and taking it from her hand. “Shall we walk down the aisles? Do you mind? Maybe we could pick up snacks for the next two weeks.”

“Sure. I’d like some candied fruits.”

“Alex!”

“Liv.” Blue eyes sparkled teasingly. “I’m talking about real fruit.”

“Oh.”

Her companion’s disappointment came through the single syllable loud and clear. With a husky whisper, Alex suggested, “You need to do something about that dirty mind.”

One side of her smile higher than the other, Olivia asked, “Like what?”

”I don’t know… Surprise me.”

49.

“Why do they always sound like such egotistical whack-jobs?” Olivia muttered as she thumbed through the exhibition catalogue.

“Beats me.” Alex shrugged, feeling blasé as they wandered through the special exhibit of contemporary photographers’ work. “Ready for the next room?”

“Yeah, sure, let’s see what ‘Key to Dreams’ is all about. Orpheus and Greek myth sound interesting. Hopefully, the guy doesn’t butcher it.”

“You know, Liv.” Alex smiled. “You can always go sit somewhere and wait. It shouldn’t take me that long to run through the show.”

“No, no, I’m okay.”

“I’m serious.”

“Me, too, I’m sure it’ll get better.” Olivia hooked her arm through her lover’s. Nothing was going to separate them, not even pretentiously avant-garde conceptual photographs. “The permanent collection actually sounds interesting.”

“Do you even know who those photographers are?”

“I’ve heard of Cartier-Bresson. And Doisneau. The photo he took of the couple kissing was very nice.” Olivia provided with a bright smile. A similar picture of the former ADA holding her briefcase in front of the Manhattan criminal courthouse and bending backwards to receive her kiss had been her fantasy for a long time. “Very romantic.”

“Mm.” Alex nodded in agreement and returned her attention to the photographs on the wall. They stopped before the first digitally created image. Before she could read the title, her lover spoke again.

“Are you going to want to stop by the bookstore?”

“We don’t have to.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Judging by the tone of the brunette’s voice, Alex knew what her preferred answer would be. “I guess not. I still would like to go to Assouline though.”

“Assouline? Another gallery?”

“No, bookstore.”

“Oh.”

“Why?”

“No reason.” Olivia shrugged. “We can go to the bookstore here, too, if you want. It wouldn’t hurt to pick up a few souvenirs,” she decided and caught herself thinking, **A postcard of the place would be nice for our scrapbook.**

“We don’t have to.”

“But we should.” She added with a suddenly excited smile, “You might find some inspiration, for when you take the class.”

‘What class?’ Alex wanted to ask; but she already knew the answer. Why delay the inevitable, at least in this instance? “I’m still thinking about it, Liv.”

“Why do you need to? You wanted to be a photographer.”

“I wanted to be lots of things.”

“Like a judge?” Gently, Olivia ventured.

“Like a judge.”

The harshness in her lover’s voice took the brunette by surprise. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart, I just… I just thought…” Not knowing what her exact motivation was, she let the sentence die.

“Why are you acting like I just killed your puppy, Liv?”

“I don’t know,” she replied, forcing a smile. She genuinely didn’t understand herself.

“You sure?”

“Sure, I’m sure.”

That was too quick a reply, Alex decided, and pulled her lover aside.

“Where are we going?”

“Nowhere, Liv, just didn’t want to block traffic.” Satisfied that they were not in the way of fellow gallery goers, Alex pursued, “Talk to me.”

“What about?”

“Why you want me to take the class so badly.”

“I just thought it would be cool… Especially since it’s something you wanted to do.”

“Okay…”

“And it’s something we could share? I was serious about taking an intro with you.”

“What if they don’t have one on the weekends?”

“Then they don’t.” After a small pause, Olivia continued, “Maybe someone else does.”

“And you would prefer that I find a class that fits both our schedule?”

“Well… Yeah, I guess I would.” The brunette smiled. Why was it so difficult to see her own motives when she could read most perpetrators like open books? “I’d like it to be something that we share. That we learn together. Something enjoyable, and aesthetically pleasing, and potentially fun, that’s ‘ours’, if you know what I mean.”

“I see.” Alex smiled. The decision was not a difficult one to make. “All right.”

“All right?”

“We’ll take the class.”

There was that flutter again in the brunette’s stomach. She nearly squealed, “We will?”

“One thing though.”

“Yes, Baby?”

“You’ll be my Galatea?”

“Gladly.” Olivia beamed, and tugged at her lover’s arm. “Let’s get moving. We need to finish here before the bookstores close.”

Happily, Alex obliged.

50.

At first, Alex felt a tug on her arm. Then it was a low call near her ear. Ignoring Olivia’s continual attempt to try to catch her attention, she smiled and followed their host through the noisy room to their table, pulling the brunette along. Finally, they were seated.

Too busy staring to fret about her lover’s inattention, Olivia whispered, “Did you see…?”

Before the woman could list the celebrities they passed along the way, Alex hushed, “Yes.” She opened her companion’s menu and then her own. “You need to figure out what you want before our waiter comes back.”

“Um. Okay.”

“Liv.”

Olivia heard the warning and snapped her head down. “How d’you do that?” She groused as her eyes scanned the list of La Coupole’s offerings. “You weren’t even looking at me.”

“Didn’t have to. I know you.”

“If you know me so well, what am I getting for dinner?”

“You’re thinking about the mushroom cassoulet, or the green salad so you can have the crème brûlée for dessert. And just to be disagreeable, you’re going to tell me you want the escargots.”

“I hate you,” Olivia said, trying hard to fight off a smile.

“Really. I think I’m getting the oysters.”

“Alex!”

“I feel inspired.”

Olivia knew she shouldn’t ask, but she did anyway. “By what?”

“All the naked paintings on the wall.”

She closed her eyes and tried to calm the funny feeling in her guts. It wasn’t fair. Her lover was playing her, and enjoying it way too much. “You’re cruel.”

“What did you call it earlier? Insurance?”

“Using my own words against me.”

“Yep,” Alex agreed cheerfully, and closed her menu. “Learned from the best.”

“Me?” The question flew out before Olivia could stop it. She cleared the squeak from her throat.

“No, her,” Alex nodded toward the table across from the restaurant. “Of course, you, silly.”

Brown eyes followed and squinted. “Is that…?”

“I think so.”

She wasn’t going to gawk. **Not this time,** Olivia swore and met her lover’s smile. “So what are you really getting?” She asked, folding her hands on the table.

As if by miracle, the waiter appeared to take their order. Efficiently, he wrote down their choices, and excused himself, leaving the woman confident that they would get exactly what they ordered.

“Service seems good,” Olivia commented casually, looking around the Deco styled room with the square light fixtures and green and orange walls. “Not very Montparnasse though, at least not what I would expect.”

“What? No ogling?”

“She’s okay. Before my time, I think.” The brunette smiled, pleased with herself for surprising her lover. “Although she was very elegant and very beautiful in that MTV vampire movie… my first lesbian flick, by the way.”

“Mine, too. Ling and I snuck out to see it. She had the biggest crush on David Bowie.”

“And you?” At the rising blush, Olivia guessed, “Susan Sarandon, huh?”

“Just her character in the movie.”

She let a moment pass, and then observed, “She has short dark hair.”

“Yes, she did. And looked incredibly hot in that white tee shirt.”

Taking a breath, Olivia gathered her courage and reached for her lover’s hand. “Edith showed me your old photos. Your debutant ball and I think Leon’s prom?”

“Yeah, that was Kenneth at our party. Ling went with my cousin, my Uncle Jack’s...” When dark eyes confirmed their understanding, Alex let the statement hang. “Anyway, Kenneth was Marty and Randy’s adopted son.”

“Was?” Olivia asked because normal people would; her lover would not have expected her to know as much as she did.

“He died, trying to save a couple of kids. They fell into the river, and he was their camp counselor.”

“Were you… and them…”

“You’re asking?” At Olivia’s nod, Alex smiled. She did promise her lover she would tell if she wanted to know about her past. “Not Leon, god, no.”

“But Kenneth?”

“Well, he died, before we… got anywhere.”

“I’m sorry,” Olivia said, as it was the right thing to say.

“Yeah, I should be too.”

“You’re not?”

“I am.” Slowly, but without hesitance, Alex continued, “But then I wondered what would’ve happened if he hadn’t… Or if Trevor’s brother…”

“Trevor’s brother?” That was a surprise to the detective. She didn’t even know Langan had a brother, let alone one her lover dated. **Both brothers? Yuck.** She held her tongue.

“He was a man I could’ve married.”

“What happened to him?”

“Desert Storm. Blown to bits.”

“Oh.” Why did they all have to be so heroic? Olivia wanted to be able to hate them; she wished she could. “Somehow I can’t see the Langan’s…”

“They’re not bad people. You shouldn’t hate Trevor because he’s a defense attorney. It’s just a job.” **A job I have now,** her blue eyes spoke her thoughts.

**No, I hate Trevor for more than that.** Olivia said instead, “Whatever. Anyway, do you ever regret…?”

51.

**Regret they died?** Alex didn’t let her lover finish her question. “Regrets are for crickets, my mother would tell you.”

“What?”

“The Aesop story, where the ant worked hard and the cricket played and when winter came, the cricket starved because it didn’t do anything to prepare for the winter?”

Despite her familiarity with the story, Olivia didn’t see right away how it applied. “Okay…”

“The cricket didn’t do the things it needed to do or should’ve done. When you’ve done your best, and made the best decisions under a given set of circumstances, there’s no reason for regret, even if things didn’t turn out exactly the way you wanted.”

The impassioned tone of Alex’s voice and the serious look on her face made Olivia wonder. “So you don’t regret what happened? I mean, having to get a new job and stuff?” She asked, knowing she would not like the answer.

“No.” Alex affirmed, despite her lover’s expression. “Look, Liv,” she explained with a gentle smile. “I don’t hate my new job, I have new friends. Sure I miss my family and friends back home, but it’s not like I’m never going to see them again.”

“But what about… us?”

“We’re closer now than we’ve ever been when we saw each other everyday. And we just spent three days in Paris, the city of lights and romance. If I had stayed, what do you think we’d be doing right now?” She asked, and watched the emotions play on Olivia’s face like an open book.

“Working, probably,” the brunette replied reluctantly. “Considering it’s the middle of the day, and a week day…”

“Not taking a two week vacation.”

“I can’t remember the last time I had a vacation. Well, except for visiting you.”

“That’s my point.” Reflexively, Alex touched the bridge of her nose.

Olivia recognized the gesture. Her lover was seeking the cover of her glasses. **But why? To emphasize her statement? Or to shield herself against what I’m about to say?** She sighed. “I don’t know… to just make the best of what I’ve got? It’s just not that easy for me. I mean, I do it. It’s not like I any have other choice. But it doesn’t always come naturally.” It wasn’t always a breeze to be completely honest with her needs either, but the acceptance and understanding in her lover’s eyes put her at ease.

“You want to know what my mom would say to that?” Alex said with a smile.

The clear blue twinkles convinced Olivia to smile along. “Sure.”

“Life is a rose. Enjoy it before it rots and pricks you.”

“Your mother’s sayings…” She had to laugh. Meanwhile, the server’s approach with their food created the perfect diversion. The intense aroma made her mouth water and reminded her just how hungry she was.

“She’s full of them. Consider yourself warned.”

In companionable silence, the women ate. Their eyes touched and held one another when their hands were occupied. The smile on their faces, the ease in which they took from each other’s plates, all spoke volumes of their connection. It was as if they had shared thousands, even lifetimes of meals together…

When they were finished, the staff returned to clear their plates and took their order for dessert. Olivia looked around the busy place, watching the other patrons interact. Somehow this restaurant, too, reminded her of Manhattan. Was that why they were here? Or maybe it was just happenstance, and they were here simply because it was a popular place for locals and tourists alike.

Another coincidence unsettled the brunette; it had for several months now. She tried to attack it through food. Finally, she pushed aside her decimated crème brûlée and put down her spoon.

“Not good?”

“Very good,” Olivia replied, looking down and avoiding her lover’s intense gaze. “Just full. The cassoulet was a little too rich.”

“Mm. May I?”

“Sure,” she slid the plate across the table, feeling bad she had made a mess of the custard. “Sorry, about the way it looks,” she said even though her lover didn’t seem to mind. Time dragged on as she tried unsuccessfully to distract herself. Finally, she spoke up. “Alex?”

”Hmm?”

“I’m curious… Am I a type?”

“Type?” Her teeth touched the tip of her spoon. It was the wrong shape, so she set it down and waited for Olivia to elucidate.

“You know, dark hair, strong features…”

Alex laughed. “I suppose you are. Like I’m your type of blonde.”

Horrified, Olivia tried to deny, “I don’t think…”

“It’s all right, Liv.” She crossed her arms and leaned against the table. “Maybe I found dark haired people attractive for a reason.”

“Like?”

“Like maybe I’m supposed to find you, or someone like you.”

“I think I like the first one better.” **Yeah,** she definitely did. Somehow the conversation didn’t seem as difficult as Olivia had imagined it to be. The whole explanation was simpler as well, one she could accept and wanted to believe. “Maybe I’ve been looking for you, too, all my life.”

“Mon destin?”

The naughty glint in the blue eyes made Olivia laughed. “Yes. How appropriate.”

“We should probably get going. We have an early train to catch,” Alex said, and searched for their waiter. A hand on her arm made her stop. She arched a brow, expecting her lover to pull away and apologize.

Olivia did neither. Instead, she let her knuckles graze and caress the soft and hardening flesh, and watched the woman flush with pleasure. “Let’s stay, for a little longer.”

“So you can stalk Deneuve?”

After another lingering touch, she let go, and reached for her lover’s trembling, slender hand. As if to keep it warm, she rubbed her palms against it, until Alex regained her composure. Then she shook her head. “She left, a while ago.”

“Then why?”

“So I can sit here, with you,” Olivia said, and willed the world away. “Just you and me.”