Animal - Ch. 11

[whedonist]

Ch. 11 – What You Don’t Know

Sitting back in the booth Olivia, Alex and I occupy, I observe the other patrons. Most of them look like they’re enjoying their meal; some are talking animatedly to friends, family members or colleagues. A few lone patrons eat and read the paper or play with their phones. The three of us are no different. I picked the two ladies up at Alex’s and we had enough time to stop and get a bite to eat.

So I’ve observed the new couple, or at least I think they’re a new couple, for the past twenty minutes. Wrapping my head around the subtle changes in both of them has been fun. My partner smiles a bit easier and I think this is the first time I’ve heard Alex laugh at something not related to work. I mean she laughs when she knows she has a suspect or their attorney by the short hairs, but it's a different kind of laugh.

She's different now, and not for the worse either.

“So, Elliot,” Olivia asks, “what do you think of the F.B.I. deferring to Buffy as the lead?”

“I think,” Alex starts in, “that it’s not only the two federals that came in. The federal prosecutor seemed keyed up to know more about Detective Summers too.”

I shrug. I haven’t told them about the conversation I overheard the other day. I mean what exactly can I say? ‘Hey, Liv, what do you know about vampires? ‘Cause the leads on the cases think that the perp’s one of the undead.’

That would get me locked up for sure. She’d be forced to go to Huang and Cragen and I’d be put on leave.

As much as I love and trust my partner, that conversation isn't one I’m willing to have. Not right now at least.

Right now, I need to dig a bit more and see if I can find anything on the feebs that have come in.

“I don’t,” I respond and then take a drink of my coffee. “I mean from everything that we’ve learned about them, I think Buffy’s connected to say the least. She has to be.”

Both of them nod their agreement.

I try for a topic change, point a finger between the two of them, and ask, “So, this is the second time I’ve picked you up at Alex’s place, Liv. I’ve also seen you two come in together a few times.” I smirk. “There something you want to tell me?”

Olivia throws a dry, piece of crust at me and says, “Keep it clean, Stabler. Besides…” she falters.

Interesting.

Alex picks up for her, “There isn’t anything to tell you. We’re two consenting adults.” Her arms fold across her chest and she looks at me, daring me to challenge her.

I brush the piece of toast away and decide on what I should do. We all know the unspoken. We all know that because of my religion I might have issues. They’re right. I do.

I don’t understand it, but I don’t understand a lot.

What I do know is that there’s a little light in my partners eyes and Alex seems happy. A small part, the jealous part that is attracted to Olivia and loves her more than I should, gets told to shut up. I know I need to do what any good partner would do. Especially given that Olivia and I are as close as we are.

I turn a set jaw and glower in Alex’s direction. I puff my chest up and point a finger in her direction. “Alex, let me say a few things about this.” A glance at Olivia tells me that she’s worried. “I know my religion doesn’t like this,” I waggle my finger between the two of them, “On some level, I agree.”

Alex’s face shuts down and she puts on the lawyer face. Olivia gapes at me a little.

“I also know when right is right and wrong is wrong. I think the Church is wrong. I don’t get it. I don’t have to get it. Love is what it is and if it’s what you two have, I should condemn that why?”

Relief washes through both of them and I finally grin. I let it hang there a moment before I start back in seriously, “But I swear to God and on the lives of my kids, you hurt my partner, you have to deal with me.”

Both exhale at the same time and Alex gives me the best smirk she has. It worries me just a little. Olivia looks at the table and I track her left arm, figuring that she’s holding on to some part of Alex’s leg.

It takes a few minutes, but Alex looks at Olivia and then me. “Detective Stabler, should I have that in written, formal legal documentation? I can have the paperwork delivered for you to sign this afternoon. I’m sure threatening an officer of the court will look nice in your jacket.”

My face breaks into a grin. “For my partner? Hell yes, you better.”

The tension breaks and we all laugh. Olivia nods in my direction and I give her a wink. She’s more than family. It’s the least I can do.

I go to stand up, slip my jacket back on and say, “Liv, you get to buy breakfast.”

She rolls her eyes then nods. “Why don’t you head on in El,” my partner says. “Alex and I will catch a cab.”

I look between the two of them and shrug. “Alright, I’ll catch up with you two in a few.” I head for the door and look back at my partner and my A.D.A. Alex gives me a wave and I slip on my sunglasses.

I hit the car and take off to the one-six. By the time I sign in and hit the bullpen, Munch and Fin are at their desk bickering. I watch them as I hang my jacket.

You know, I sometimes wonder about them, they argue worse than a married couple with none of the benefits. I shake my head, that’s not right. Munch and Fin in bed together are thoughts I don’t even want to think about thinking about.

I know that Liv and I have been accused of sleeping together. I’m sure there a few cops who think that. I’d be a liar if I didn’t say I hadn’t thought about it too. I mean Olivia’s a great woman.

But, I have Kathy. Which is another set of problems I just…I love my wife. I just can’t be sure that I’m in love with her.

“Hey Stabler,” Fin calls out, coming over with an envelope in his hand.

“Morning you two.” I sit down and flip on my computer screen. I’d bother to log out, but it always seems pointless.

He flops the envelope on my desk and says, “Trish from records brought those by for you. Where’s Liv?”

“She had to finish up a couple loose ends this morning. She’ll be in later.” I pick up the envelope and slit the seal with my finger.

“Cool. Hey, we’re gonna go round up Coopersmith later today, you wanna crack at him?” Fin asks.

“You mean the last of the pervs Gutierrez fingered?” We brought in three men so far. Troy Coopersmith, an investment banker with three kids and doting wife, is the last of the lot.

Fin nods.

“I gotta see what’s going on with the joint case, but hell yes.”

“Cool, if you aren’t here I’ll text you and let you know when we bring him in.” With that he walks back to his desk to finish off some of the paperwork the collars brought his way.

I turn my attention back to the paperwork Trish dropped off. Three, thin manila files and a hand written note slip free.

Elliot,

I couldn’t find a lot. Even with my contact in the State Department. Here’s what I got. Hope it helps.

Trish

The first jacket contains the bare facts of Isabel Cohen, Assistant U.S. Attorney. I read over her educational background and nothing jumps out. When Trish said she couldn’t find much, she meant it. What she essentially brought me is the girl’s resume.

I sigh and open the second. The front page of Special Agent Satsu Takeda stares back at me. Again it’s the basics, a color photo, educational information, job description, residence and contact information.

I look at the schools and pick up Cohen’s folder again. I hold them side by side and see that they both went to the same school. They overlapped for two years at the Holland Institute for Girls in Reading, England. A tingle causes the hair on the back of my neck to stand up and I lay them both down to pick up Amanda Kramer’s. A glance at her school history and I see that she and Satsu graduated together from the Institute, Yale and the F.B.I. academy.

The other thing, the thing that really gets me is that all three are listed as ‘on loan’ by the U.S. government as consultants for The Watchers Council LTD.

Son of a bitch.

---

I shift in the only semi-comfortable chair in the entire damn hospital. On the T.V. the channels flick by as Deb impatiently hits the remote on the side of her bed. I look over at her and smirk. She don’t talk much, but she’s an alright girl.

I know she’s been through hell. Fact is I can’t seem to think of what being locked up for weeks on end being tortured would be like. I don’t ever want to know. But the thing with Detective Morgan that I’ve seen is that she’s definitely a fighter. She’s old school cop.

She mumbles and tries to shift in her bed. The cast on her leg and arm can’t be comfortable. Combine that with the broken ribs and I’m sure even the pain killers that they have her on aren’t helping a whole lot.

“You need anything?” I ask.

She glares in my direction for a minute before those big hazel eyes of hers blink and soften. I offer a sympathetic smile and she sighs.

“I hate hospitals,” she states, like she was telling me my shoes untied.

I snort and laugh. “There ain’t a cop around that loves sittin’ on their ass in a hospital watching bad T.V.”

I get a soft laugh out of her and try to at least take her mind off the situation. “Ya know, when I first got my shield, years ago, I was laid up at Saint Anthony’s for about two weeks. Worst two weeks of my life and that’s including the year I went through my divorce.”

“Oh yeah,” she says. “What happened?”

“Right place, wrong time.” I shrug. I’m trying to decide on whether or not I should tell her the whole story. It’s not long, but it’s not a happy ending at least not for the other people that were involved.

Of course, there’s not a whole lot going on right now that I’m happy about. I’m still a little sore that Cupcake held back on the feebs. And really that ain’t it either.

New York is my home. Or was my home. Now, the way I see it, is that the city don’t belong to the creeps that go bump in the night. It belongs Cupcake, Red and me. My partner staked her claim and no other slayers have been allowed to set up camp. She’s forbidden Princess from setting up an outpost here. Buffy said she’d take care of New York.

I think it’s ‘cause she doesn’t want to have to deal with anyone from that part of her life. I get that. I respect that. It’s why I help when I can, even though I feel like I’m out of my depth when I go patrolling with her.

Then with the feebs, it’s like their encroaching on my territory with my women in it. And I know that sounds… Cupcake would tell me that it’s the guy thing getting in the way. Like when we’re bringing in groceries, I carry the most bags even though I know Buffy can bench press my weight and then some. She says that my penis gets in the way of my thinking.

She’s right sometimes. Sometimes it’s ‘cause I love both her and Red and I wanna help take care of them as much as they take care of me. It’s a funny thing but Buffy fosters this ability to create a loyalty to her that can’t be explained.

Ah well.

I refocus on Debra and I smile at her. Even through the bruises and the cuts, I can tell she’s a gorgeous woman. I sigh, relenting. “You really wanna hear this?”

“Sure, I got nothing else to do.” She tries to smile for me, but the stitches prevent her from doing it effectively. The efforts appreciated.

“It was my third month with my detectives shield. My partner, Joe Tudesco, and I were following up on this embezzlement scheme.” I sit forward in my chair and lean on the bed with my arms folded for support. “So we’re at this bank down in the financial district. Routine questioning of a guy that was implicated. So this guy’s kinda a big shot up on the higher floors. We get shuffled into his office quiet like and he’s sitting at his desk.”

I adjust and see her wince. Carefully, I take my weight off the bed and scoot the chair closer to talk to her. “So we start in and the more questions we ask the more fidgety this cat gets. No big right?” I smile at her.

As a cop, she knows. She rolls her eyes and rasps, “It’s always a big deal. Fuckers can’t stand to lose their money.”

I wink at her. “Exactly. So we question, he answers and then on a hunch I ask about one account that we were working because the numbers didn’t add up. The guy, Louis Stanbaugh, just goes ape shit. He pulls out this little thirty-eight special. Before I even have time to respond he pops Joe in the chest twice and then me. I was told he put the gun to his head afterward.”

I stand and pull out my shirt. Unbuttoning the bottom half, I open it and show her the two scars from the first and only time I’ve been shot. Her good hand reaches out and runs over the scar on the right side of my stomach; the other is half hidden by the waist of my pants.

“Fuck. That had to hurt.” She takes her hand back and looks up at me.

“It didn’t feel good. I was in surgery for a while.” I rebutton my shirt and forgo tucking it back into my pants. I ain’t goin’ anywhere else today. I should have just worn some comfy jeans and sneakers, but old habits die hard and I’m still on the clock.

“What about your partner?” she asks.

My jaw clenches and I shake my head.

“I’m sorry.” She looks away and sighs.

“It’s part of the job.” I give her good hand a squeeze and try to pull away. Her hand clenches mine.

“It is, but it wasn’t supposed to be for Dexter. He’s the only family I have left.” Her eyes well up and I reach in my pants pocket for my handkerchief. I don’t bother passing it on to her. Instead, I dab at her eyes and give her a soft smile.

As delicately as possible, I broach the subject, “Yeah, but Sweetcheeks, your brother ain’t exactly Don Knots, ya know?”

She snorts, laughs and cringes all in one go. Still holding on to my hand, she regains her composure and says, “No he isn’t, and don’t make me laugh it hurts.” Her face screws up a second and then she glares at me. “And what’s with the ‘Sweetcheeks’ bullshit?” I shrug and she rants, “It’s fucking sexist.”

I shrug again, but say, “I guess. I mean I don’t really think of it that way. I can stop if you want.”

“You haven’t even seen my ass, that’s what gets me.” Her eyes twinkle a bit and I know she’s just teasing me.

“Why do you gotta assume that I’m talking about your ass?” I run a knuckle over her unabused cheek and wink. “You got a pretty set of cheeks right here.”

For that she let’s go of my hand and tries to punch me. I back away and hold my hands up. “Hey, assaulting a police officer, I can run you in ya know?”

Her eyes light up. “Would you? I can really use some time out of this damn hospital.”

“Not on your life. You’re stuck until the docs tell me otherwise.” I nod my head firmly and an idea hits. Making a note to check when she’s sleeping, I ask, “Look, Debra I know you know about everything.” I walk over to the bed and sit back down. “The other detectives don’t know. I’m not sure they’re gonna know.”

She looks at me and reaches for my hand. I give it to her as she says, “I figured as much. You know, there are days that I wish I didn’t know. That I didn’t take that call. That Dexter never fucking told me about what he is.”

“I know the feeling,” I admit, “but, it doesn’t change how you felt about him and I get that. Hell, I even get why you kept his…” There’s no delicate way to say this so I just jump right in, “his serial killings to yourself.”

Her head snaps in my direction and she spits, “Do you? Because, Christ, there are some days that I can’t figure it out.”

I shrug and say, “Out of love. And the cop in you. We’ve all been there, everyone on our side of the fence. Dirt bags get off scot-free for murder, abuse, rape and the worst is when they touch kids. We deal with the fact we couldn’t get what was needed to make the arrest or that we just didn’t do our jobs good enough.” I squeeze her hand and force her to look at me. “The truth, Sweetcheeks, is that sociopaths don’t change their spots. But your dad did the best he could with Dexter. And you obviously love him. I’d also bet an arm that in his own fucked up way he loves you too. So, I may not like what he did, but there’s a part of me that respects it.”

She laughs bitterly and says, “You’re fucked up.”

“Maybe,” I say. “Don’t change the facts or what we feel.” I reach and lower the T.V. then hit one of the overhead lights by the bed, darkening the room. It maybe afternoon, but we can try to get her some sleep. “Why don’t you relax? Take a nap. My partner’s on it and you know Buffy. She’s gonna find Dexter.” I wink at her. “She’s also gonna kill the monster that did this to you.”

She gives me a half smile. I’ll take it. I watch as she closes her eyes and keep hold of her hand well after she’s drifted off.

---

“You look beautiful,” Olivia breaths into my neck. I pull her tighter to me as the cab drives north, away from Olivia’s apartment.

Today was such an incredibly long day. First, just to prove that I could, I got into a near shouting match with a defense attorney in the middle of Petrovsky’s court. Then I lost the motion to suppress on the Deheary case. I think the highlight was right after lunch, after I had spilled the coffee on my skirt, when I got a sizable dressing down from Donnelly during jury selection.

If it hadn’t been for Olivia promising me a night out that I wouldn’t forget, I would have gone home, taken four shots of the tequila I brought back from Mexico and called it a night. Instead, I find myself dressed for a modest evening out on the town with my favorite woman in the city.

I suppose it could have ended worse. The only problem is I have no idea where she’s taking me. She said out to dinner. That was all I got out of her. I tried stern, forceful, pushy and superior, but none of them have made her talk.

With her pressed against me in the backseat, wearing dark blue jeans and a fitted button down top, I want to try a different tact. I, myself, opted for a low cut black v-neck sweater and my cashmere scarf with a pair of skinny jeans. When I picked her up, it had made her look twice.

I can use that to my advantage. Slowly, I let a hand trail up her leg, curving in on her thigh. Her breath increases in pressure on my neck and that’s when I whisper, “Where are we going?”

Her hand stops mine from going further and she laughs softly in my ear. “Councelor, I had thought you were above petty attempts of using your looks to garner you privileged information?”

I blush slightly and pull back, looking her in the eyes. I shake my head and smile at her. “It would depend on whom I’m trying to coerce, detective.” I pull her to me and press our lips together.

Her softness impresses me as the kiss deepens, sending heat from the pit of my stomach outward. Her tongue ghosts over my bottom lip and I open up, letting her inside. She somehow manages to reverse our positions as I feel myself being pressed against the vinyl seats of the car.

As we break for air, I notice the car’s stopped moving. I look out the window and see traffic whizzing by. Liv’s head snaps to the front and we both see the driver turned in his seat with a huge grin plastered on his cherub features.

That’s really creepy.

She tenses on top of me and I grab her hand. Looking at me, I shake my head.

“I guess,” she says running a hand through her hair, “we’re here.”

She steps out of the cab and I try to toss a twenty through the payment slot, but he blocks it. “Free ride. You guys ask for cab two-seven-two-five-four-eight if you ever need another ride anywhere.”

I roll my eyes and put the money back in my coat pocket. Pervert. I should have Olivia run him in, but that would spoil this evening. After the hell today has been, only the apocalypse could stop me from enjoying my evening with the city’s finest detective.

She holds the door open to a building with a sign above it that reads, “Tweety’s”. I point up at the sign and raise my eyebrow in question.

She makes a motion with her hand telling me to get inside. I follow the instruction, but am now supremely curious as to what and where we are. Stepping inside the building, I’m hit with soft warmth. The lighting in the place is nice. Not too bright, not too dark, although it does lean towards the dark and mysterious atmosphere the place has. There is a girl checking coats to my left and I step up to the counter, removing the beige cashmere coat and black scarf from around my neck. I take Olivia’s jacket and hand her that as well.

Accepting the ticket, I turn to my date and smile. She returns it in a soft smirk and leads me to a woman standing behind a reservation desk. She’s a small, blonde girl with big green eyes. Her face breaks into a smile when she sees us approaching.

“Two?” she asks in a perky fashion. I think maybe they should cut back on her caffeine intake.

Olivia only nods and I follow her as we are led into the restaurant. As I look around this place, whoever designed the interior did so with couples and intimate diners in mind. It’s all booths and no tables. The booths are a deep cherry red and high to absorb the conversation while keeping out the noise of neighboring tables.

I glance to my right and see a small stage set up for a quartet. Jazz club, I wonder? I know Olivia likes some jazz, but this seems different. The crowd here is a little younger. This is actually somewhere I feel Willow and Buffy would go.

I sit back and enjoy the atmosphere and the company. Liv and I make small talk as the waitress brings us our drinks.

“Alex, I know we decided not to talk about work, but I have a question.”

I laugh. “Well then by all means, one question won’t hurt either of us.”

“Have you had much interaction with that A.U.S.A?” she asks. I figured federal agents coming in would upset her.

To say that our track record working with the federal government was horrific would be putting it mildly.

“Not really,” I answer honestly. “She just wants me to call her if anything major happens. Why?”

Olivia shakes her head. “We haven’t seen much of the F.B.I. agents that came through. I was curious.” She’s about to say something more, but instead, she points to the stage and I turn my head to watch a band take the stage.

All four are young, twenty-something’s. Two girls and two guys grace the stage. One girl takes her place behind a keyboard and what looks like a turntable while the other picks up the guitar. The tallest man of the group settles in behind the drum kit and the other positions himself in front of the microphone.

The server comes by with our drinks and I greedily down the martini, asking for another as soon as the empty glass hits the tabletop. The server shrugs and scurries off to fill the order. Olivia’s eyebrow is raised and I laugh at her shocked expression.

“Liv, it’s been the day from hell. That first drink was to take away some of the stress. I’ll sip the next one.”

“Hello, ladies and gentlemen,” the man in front of the mic says. “We’re River’s End and we’ll be your entertainment for this evening.” His voice is deep and smooth. “We would be most appreciative if all the couples would join us up on the dance floor for our first song of the evening.”

I look at Olivia and figure one dance couldn’t hurt. She shrugs and we follow up a few other couples to the small dance floor in front of the stage. Not wanting to let her get away, I wrap my arms around her waist and pull us together. I’ve waited way too long to be able to do this with her.

She looks at me. Unresisting the request in her eyes, I lean in to kiss her soundly as the drums start a slow beat. The synthesizer kicks in while the guitarist joins in on the fun. The music is soulful, but current. As Olivia’s hands trail down my body, we move to the music. My head rests on her shoulder and we step in time to the music.

She brought me to an R&B club. I’m mildly amused by that fact, but not too surprised. Detective Benson is usually full of surprises.

“Alex,” she whispers into my ear. “I know we haven’t had a serious talk about us. About what I want and what you want.” She spins me around and I pull my head up to look at her. Her eyes shine from the stage lights and the lyrics of the song being sung seem…serendipitous.

“I was hoping it was an unspoken agreement,” I tease.

She nods. “I tried to; I fooled myself with one guy while you were away. I thought I could.”

We move side to side, swaying with the music as we talk. “Didn’t work?”

She shakes her head and I nod. “I understand. More than you know.”

“I want to be clear.” She’s earnest in her intentions for this evening and it’s so endearing.

“You’ve made yourself clear, Olivia.” I offer her a chaste kiss on the lips and then pull back. “I hope I’ve made myself clear over the past month.”

She smirks and then pulls us together. Her lips cover mine. That’s all it takes for me to be lost in her.

I’ve been lost in far worse places. I just hope I’m not found too soon.