He sings Fleetwood Mac songs in the shower and pretends to perform Lindsey Buckingham guitar solos complete with sound effects and air guitar.
Once, when she joined him unexpectedly in the middle of one such solo, his face turned red and he'd choked an excuse before she'd laughed, saying it was endearing, that she had grown up with Rumours and Tusk.
She presses up against him, kisses him chastely. His singing reminds her not everything they do is wrapped up in blood and anger and permanent scars.
"Now..." Running a soapy sponge down his chest, she purrs, "where were you?"
Their kisses have become kisses not of want, but of punishment, the kind that scorch and scar.
When he reaches for her neck, she arches. His lips bruise her collarbone, his teeth blight her jaw.
She draws him to the couch. He has her shirt over her head; his hands are tormenting her breasts: twisting, pinching, kneading. She chokes back a groan, shifting slightly to allow him access to her pants, then the final piece of cotton separating them.
He slides into her slowly, but quickens. When he comes, he pushes deep inside. She's left torn apart and wanting more.
Caroline Cabot puts down her fork. Her grey eyes pierce her sister until Alex is forced to look up. They could be twins except Alex is taller and she has their mother's nose, their father's eyes.
"Tell me about him."
"Who?" She touches the pendant at her throat.
"The guy."
Alex dips her head, blushing. "No." She takes a bite of salad.
"Is that from him?" She's pointing to the pendant.
She swallows a long sip of wine before admitting, smiling softly, "Yes."
"It's beautiful." She leans in. "Now, the real question," Pauses. "How is he in bed?"
Alex grins.
He's never been attracted to cigarette ads or found lighting up especially stimulating until he catches her taking the first drag of a Marlboro Light.
"Counselor," Elliot greets.
She drops the cigarette, puts out the end with the toe of her black pump. Grey ash litters the sidewalk. "Are you all right? I heard about Kendall."
"I'm okay, I guess. I didn't realize you smoked."
"Socially."
"You're alone."
Alex blushes, "You and Olivia were undercover. I went through about half a pack just today."
He places his hand at her lower back and pulls her close, "Let's get a drink."
"What are you doing with Kathy's scarf?" He tugs gently at the purplish cloth hanging around Olivia's neck.
She hands him his cup of coffee. "It was at Alex's apartment. She gave it to me to wear one night." She looks him over. "What was Alex doing with Kathy's scarf?"
"Actually, they must have the same scarf. You know, buy a scarf on the street corner... they're all similar." He touches the tag and hopes his lie isn't too implausible, "Kathy marks the tags on hers and the girls' things so they don't get confused with each other."
Olivia smirks.