Work Text:
Olivia is going home after a killer day at work.
After spending all of her working hours desperately trying to get any new leads for a case with Elliot that will most likely get stuck, and endless paperwork on a case with Fin, all she wants to do is get home.
Get home to Alex.
The relationship is not exactly new, but this arrangement of theirs is. They spend the weekdays at Olivia’s, closer to the offices, and weekends at Alex’s, further but cozier.
And it's a secret, of course.
The conflict of interests would be too hard to handle if they were public, so they agree to not bring anything home with them. It's easier this way, and it also spares the stares they would get if they were out as a couple to the whole world. Their environment could be dangerous, so it's best not to risk it.
When Olivia finally gets to her apartment, she opens the door to a disheveled Alex, apron on, and a desperate look on her face.
Olivia tries to conceal her smile, but Alex sees right through it.
“Don't laugh, Liv. This is a disaster. I'm disappointed,” She points at herself. “This is a disappointed face.”
“Well, you didn’t burn anything this time, honey,” Olivia says looking around. “So I don't see why we should be upset.”
Alex fixes her a look, and she holds both her hands up in surrender. “Alright, sorry. What are you trying to do?”
Over the counter, there's flour all over and a dough that looks like garbage can material. Olivia tries to keep her amusement to herself.
With arms akimbo, Alex explains, “I was trying to cook you some dinner.”
“That explains the flour all over your face,” Olivia says, brushing the powder tray over her forehead, and giving her a kiss on the cheek. Alex rolls her eyes. “I dig it.”
She grumbles, “You're a liar.”
Olivia shrugs, “You didn't have to go through all that trouble, baby, but thank you for the effort.”
“I'm sorry,” Alex pouts. Olivia thinks it's adorable how vulnerable her girlfriend can be around her. “I know it's your favorite, and I ruined it.”
“I don't mind,” Olivia says quietly, trying to show Alex without words that what really matters is that she tried.
Alex has her hands on the counter, looking genuinely upset.
“Look at you, all housewife,” Olivia teasingly says, grabbing Alex by her belt loops. “If this was you trying to make a point, color me impressed.”
Alex crosses her arms around Olivia’s shoulders, careful not to get her covered in powder too. “Would you really want a wife as unfit to it as I am?”
Olivia pauses. They never talked about marriage.
They have known each other for years, and the relationship was just a matter of time, but Olivia didn't think Alex was the type of person who would want to get married.
They talked about the future, how they had plans figured out with each other, but a wedding was never mentioned.
She's fine with that, the law wouldn't allow it anyway, but an engagement ring would have the weight of commitment to it nevertheless.
Alex notices the pause, but shrugs, “I'm just saying that if you ever want to propose, I'd say yes. It would be nice to be Mrs. Benson.”
Olivia catches a breath, “Woah, okay. There's a lot to address here, but first: why do I have to propose?”
“You're the one who brought up housewives in the first place.” It's Olivia’s turn to glare at her girlfriend, but she ignores it. “We might never actually get to it by the current law, but I'd like to call you my fiancée.”
Olivia considers a little, but decides to go with it. “You think by the time we get to, say, 2010 we'll be able to do it?”
Alex sighs, “God, by then we'll have five children already.”
Olivia has a shocked expression on her face when she dramatically steps back, “Gosh, who are you and what have you done to my Alex?”
“What?” She actually seems confused. “I think about a future with you. Is that such a crime?”
Olivia looks at her with a crooked smile, “You wanna be my baby mama?”
“Not when you say it like that!” Alex rolls her eyes again.
Olivia giggles, “You really want to beat Elliot's offspring, don't you?”
Alex nods, a smile she can't contain, “What can I say, I'm competitive.”
Olivia cackles, but gets interrupted when her stomach growls loudly. Alex just chuckles, defeated, and rests her forehead on Olivia's shoulder. “Just… go shower. I'll clean it up and order something in.”
“Okay,” Olivia says. “But, hey, you know who could teach you anything if you ever wanted to? Fin. Great cook.”
Alex hums, “Copy that, detective.”
When Olivia gets back, Alex is lying on the couch with a copy of Wuthering Heights in hand. She announces they're having pizza without looking away.
“We're really going with the Italian, huh?”
Alex just hums, and Olivia crawls her way up her body until she's face to face with her book cover, holding her weight up on arms and knees.
Alex just pretends she isn't there until Olivia says something. “Al?”
She lowers the book, “Yes?”
“What flavor did you order?”
Alex grimaces, “Broccoli.”
“You know I love you, right?”
“Yes, I do.” She nods. “That's why I ordered it, to hear you say it.”
Olivia crooks her head, and raises a brow.
Alex gets the message, “I love you too.”
Her girlfriend flexes her arms and lowers herself a little to kiss her, then pauses to say, “That's better.”
She repeats the movement, and Alex giggles, “You know,” A kiss, then she's back at holding herself up on straightened arms. “If the gym was like this,” Another push up and a peck. “You under every push up,” Another kiss. “I'd go there every minute,” One more. “Of every day.”
She holds herself up again, but a giggling Alex just grabs her face, forcing her to lower down again, “Get down here, we're doing some cardio.”
The thrill of kissing Alexandra Cabot never wore off, no matter how many times she did it.
It's soft but fierce, sweet but sexy, and she tastes like paradise and home at the same time.
Heaven is wherever they're together, loving each other for what they are.
It doesn't take long to get heated, and Olivia is half way down Alex’s chest when she gets a call.
She refuses to take it and just keeps going, but the blonde reasons, “It could be Cragen.”
The picture of a man she considers a father figure on her mind's eye while she's trying to have her way with her partner is unpleasant, but she answers it anyway.
She clears her throat, “Benson.”
It is the captain after all.
“Olivia, I need you back here. Bring in the missus.”
Just like that, the call ends, and she sighs, “Think Cap has it figured out.”