The Bet (Law Order SVU)

Chapter 7

Saturday morning found Alex standing at her desk in a position similar to the one Olivia had caught her in the night before. The handsome detective had been called out to a scene in the middle of the night, and Alex was taking advantage of her time alone to try and finish the work that Olivia had interrupted the night before. She ran an exhausted hand through her hair and gratefully tore her eyes away from her notes as her cell beeped with an incoming text. Thankful for the distraction, she picked up the phone. A quick glance at the screen showed that the message wasn't from Olivia, as she had expected, but from Abbie Carmichael.

What's the score?

Alex's brow furrowed in disbelief, thinking that there was no way Abbie could have heard about the bet. What score? she typed back hurriedly.

Between you and Benson. Who's winning?

"You gotta be kidding me," Alex muttered. You know about that?

Duh. I know everything.

"Of course," Alex mumbled. Who told you?

Stabler. And Donnelly might have mentioned something about catching you with your pants down... metaphorically speaking.

Alex contemplated smacking her head onto the top of her desk for a moment before she finally replied, Fuck me.

That's what Donnelly told me Liv did, yes.

Alex groaned. She could picture perfectly the smug grin Abbie was undoubtedly sporting after delivering that line. Har, har.

So, who's winning?

Why do you want to know?

Because I got in on the pool Stabler and the boys at the precinct are running.

What? They're betting on us?

Alex, they bet on everything. I think Liz and Petrovsky are in on it too.

Wait, what?

Hey! I'm bored ... wanna meet for coffee?

Alex looked down at the doodles littering her legal pad and figured a break might be just what she needed to jump-start her brain. Um. Sure. Where?

Little shop across the street from the courthouse?

No - too many ADAs.

Heh - that's right. Okay, how about Shenanigans?

Is that even a real place? It sounds like something you made up.

*sigh* Yes, it's real. Google map it and I'll meet you there in forty five.

...

Forty-four minutes later, Alex was sitting by the window at Shenanigans, a rather quirky coffee shop in the middle of Manhattan's shopping district. Valiantly ignoring the loud tourists trying to find their way around, she kept an eye out for Abbie Carmichael, whom she hoped would arrive on time for a change instead of making her wait alone in an unfamiliar establishment. Just as another minute ticked by on her cell phone's display, she saw a familiar, dark-haired woman heading towards her with her trademark swaying hips and dimpled smile. No one could deny that Abbie knew how to make an entrance.

"Howdy," the Federal Prosecutor said, taking a seat across from Alex at the small table and draping the strap of her purse over the back of her chair.

"Right on time," Alex admitted, sounding a little cross. She had been looking for an excuse to complain to her friend.

"Go get your coffee, Cabot, and put some sweetener in there! Lord, I don't know why you're so sour when you've been getting fucked senseless by Benson all week." She shot Alex a wicked grin as the blonde stood up from the table. "What was the score again?"