In All The Right Ways:

A Law & Order: SVU Story

Chapter 1

It was raining that day; not just raining, it was pouring and the childhood chant would not stop passing through Olivia's mind: "It's raining, it's pouring, the old man is snoring…" Every time it would start up again, she would be forced to shake her head to get rid of the annoying, repetitious earworm. To this day she didn't understand the riddle, or why children's rhymes had to be so malicious. Babies falling out of trees, "ashes, ashes we all fall down", men dying in their sleep. Kids were cruel little people. Her head was bent to shield her face from the onslaught of water, her hands stuffed into her jacket pockets, and the hood of her jacket pulled up tight— valiantly failing to keep her messily styled hair dry. The coolness of the February air made the rain sting as it the fraction of skin still showing on her body as she made her way to the station. She kept on reminding herself that she had signed up for this as she made her way up the slick stairs and pulled the wet jacket off her body.

It had been six months since she had started in the Special Victims Unit, and it was hard— harder than she had expected. In a way she had been a victim, she had been through the system herself, and had seen what rape and abuse could do to a person. But it was one thing to see it once or twice and it was something completely different to see it every day— men, women, children, babies, old, young, black, white, gay, straight. She saw it all. And it had only been six months.

It was seven AM and she already wanted a drink.

Olivia stopped outside the squad room and stared at her empty desk, there was still a pile of manila folders stacked haphazardly in the middle of it, looking like it could tumble at any second, and she couldn't help but wonder what would happen if they did. All those cases getting mixed together into a big pile of human waste, sludge and ooze; the worst of humanity tumbling into one giant pustule of a melting pot. Would the squad room implode? Would the world come to an end?

The stack fell and all the papers fluttered innocently to the ground. Nothing happened. John Munch, one of the other detectives, ignorant of the mess, walked through with his nose stuck in a file folder, leaving a muddy footprint on one of the crumbled pages.

"You know," a male voice sounded humorously behind her, "If you stand here and stare at them long enough they might do a trick and clean themselves up."

Olivia turned her head to see her partner, Elliot Stabler, staring at the mess of folders on the floor. He seemed to be in deep thought over the mess while absently sipping his coffee. She could see the faintest hint of a smile playing at his lips and couldn't help cracking a small one herself. She shook her head and started towards her desk, intent on seeing how long she could drag out sorting through the mess and therefore putting off the more serious work that awaited her for the day— an abused and battered twelve year-old girl. Olivia could feel the pit in her stomach growing as she thought about it. The girl needed help, but all Olivia wanted to do was run, run far away and never look back. She could become an accountant- she always had been good at math, or maybe a software engineer. Nothing that involved human services, teaching, medicine, or any other profession that involved working with people that could potentially be beaten or mistreated.

She gathered up the mess and set it in a big lumpy pile on her desk. She was fruitlessly trying to get Munch's shoeprint off one sheet when her glanced up and saw Elliot watching her sipping his coffee.

"What?" She snapped back at him and watched in satisfaction as he leaned back in his chair and raised his hands in surrender.

Olivia bag slithered off her shoulder and onto the floor the minute she entered her apartment. Her shoes were kicked off next and she took one last drag on her cigarette before snuffing it out in a half full coffee cup standing cold on the kitchen counter. She was going to quit next week. Really.

The interview with the girl was tough; dealing with her parents had been damn near impossible. She trudged through her apartment, shredding articles of clothing as she went— as a kid she loved to dress up in the professional clothes: suits, skirts, and button-down shirts. As an adult they were uncomfortable and annoying. The phone started to ring but she ignored it as she changed into her favorite pair of broken-in sweat pants and a ribbed tank top

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear Olivia, happy birthday to you!"

Olivia froze as she pulled a beer out of the fridge when she heard her mother's drunken voice filter through the answering machine. She had gone the whole day without hearing anyone say those words— she had almost made it. Her mother was always drunk on her birthday. She wouldn't have been surprised if her mother had been drunk on her actual day of birth, too. She looked down at the beer clutched in her hand. Some days she wondered if she was truly any better— sitting at home, alone in the dark drinking after a long day at work. No one besides her drunken mother had called her to wish her happy birthday or for any other reason. Walking over to the sink she poured the rest of her beer down the drain and after switching out her comfortable sweats for a tight sweater and fashionably torn jeans headed out into the chilly February evening.

Images swirled through her mind as she walked, silently dodging businessmen and other angry pedestrians on the wide Manhattan sidewalk. Her mind was starting to sink back to her childhood. Yelling, drunken slurs, burning tears sliding down her cheeks as she sat forgotten on the steps of her school, walking home in the cold her fingers frozen because she had lost her gloves, then suddenly 'wham!'. She let out a small moan as she was snapped back into reality by the solid body of the pissed off businessman she had just run into.

"Watch it, lady!" The man snapped as he pushed past her.

"Sorry, " she whispered now talking to the empty space on the sidewalk in front of her before shaking her head and continuing to walk.

She started to look around her, her brain was back from its trip and she was sucked back into reality.

"When did it get dark?" she mumbled to herself as she continued to get her bearings. Glancing to her left she caught sight of an entrance to Columbia University and let out an involuntary groan. She was at least an hour walk away from her apartment now. She contemplated turning around but she was in no mood to go home yet; instead she continued on down the sidewalk, glancing in windows looking for something at least mildly entertaining. The sounds from an overcrowded college bar overwhelmed her senses and she skirted around the crowd spilling over onto the sidewalk. Spotting a coffee shop a couple of doors down from the bar she gave a sigh of relief. Her tingling fingers were telling her it was time to stop and warm up—she hadn't gotten any better at remembering to wear gloves.

Clutching the cardboard coffee cup in her hands she made her way to a table in the back of the café with a clear view of the door. She sat with the back of her chair flat against the back wall and quietly observed her surroundings. Once a cop, always a cop. Leaning her chair back on two legs— another bad habit she had kept from childhood— she took a long pull on her coffee and continued to take in the other patrons of the shop. A couple groups of students sat talking and laughing, their coffee long gone or forgotten. One young man dressed in all black with spiked hair typing furiously on a laptop at a secluded table; four coffee cups littered the table around him. A couple of women sat in over-stuffed chairs and were laughing quietly in their intimate corner and a couple more people sat around lost in their own worlds reading novels and newspapers. Almost done with her scan, Olivia's eyes stopped on one very remarkable blonde woman.

The blonde's head was bent over a very thick textbook and there at least three other extremely thick texts scattered on the table around her. Olivia could see her lips moving and assumed she was muttering about whatever she was studying. She couldn't help but to chuckle as she observed the other woman— midterms. She definitely did not miss those days.

After finishing her scan, Olivia felt her mind drifting back into its own thoughts only to be snapped back into reality by rising voices.

"Oh, come off it Cabot, you know you liked it."

Olivia glanced around to find the owner of the voice and found a young, dark-haired man leaning over the studying blonde.

"Leave me alone Derek, you know I have to take the Bar tomorrow and so do you, so don't think you should be studying instead of bothering me. God knows you need all the help you can get if you want to pass," the blonde replied, clearly not entertained by 'Derek'.

Olivia could see something flash in his eyes and she shot out of her chair when Derek grabbed the young woman's arm and almost yanked her out of the chair.

"Let me go you asshole!" The blonde woman yelped her voice a mixture of anger and surprise.

"Is there a problem here?" Olivia asked warily, tapping Derek 'the asshole' on the shoulder. She stepped back and crossed her arms over the chest in her best "don't mess with me Douche Bag" stance.

Derek glanced over his shoulder and smirked at her, "No, no problem, Miss. Alex and I were just having a discussion."

"Well, it looks to me like Alex isn't enjoying your discussion, so why don't you just head on home, Skippy."

Derek let out a snort and turned his attention back to Alex ignoring Olivia, "Come on Cabot, just one more date. I promise I'll make it worth your while."

From his saccharine tone of voice Olivia had no doubt in her mind what he meant by "worth your while" and she wasn't happy about it, or the fact that he still had a grip on the woman's arm. She was about to step in and snap the guy's wrist when the blonde's laughter caught her off guard.

"Are you serious, you douche. There is never going to be a second date, especially since there wasn't a first date to begin with."

"But Alex," Derek, his voice getting a dangerous tint to it, and Olivia saw Alex's face flinch as Derek's hand tightened on her arm.

"She said she isn't interested," Olivia stepped in. "Now, why don't you be a good little punk and leave."

"Look lady," Derek started, letting go of Alex's arm and turning to face her, straightening up to his full height of over six feet.

"It's detective, Mr.…" Olivia paused waiting for an answer.

"Langan. Derek Langan," he replied cockily.

"Mr. Langan. If you don't want to get arrested for assault I would recommend that you leave Ms. Cabot alone and never come within fifty feet of her again. Sound good?" Olivia could feel the predatory glint in her eye and the curl of her lip as she stated the blatant threat.

Derek huffed and stood for a second, arms folded over his chest seemingly debating his options.

"Yes ma'am," he finally replied reluctantly before making his way to the door.

Olivia let out a small laugh as he skittered towards the door. Rich little punk.

An awkward silence settled over the pair left at the coffee shop.

"So…" Olivia started. "Are you okay, Ms. Cabot?"

Alex, who had been staring intently at the door, was snapped her back into reality by the sound of the soft voice coming from the woman standing next to her.

"Um, what?" Sorry," the dazed response was the only words that managed their way out of her mouth.

"Are you always such an eloquent speaker, Ms. Cabot? Your law professors must be terrified of your debating skills," Olivia teased.

She could visibly see the blonde bristle at the words and she had to struggle to keep the smirk off her face.

"I happen to be a very eloquent speaker Officer Benson, so if you would excuse me, I thank you for your assistance but I have to get back to studying." With pursed lips and a steady glare, Alex popped the top off of her highlighter and bent back over her stack of books.

Olivia could no longer stop the laughter that was bubbling up in her chest and she let out a chuckle as she made her way back over to her abandoned table and coffee. She was just happy she had gotten the other woman's mind off of Derek Langan. When she reached her table she paused, and instead of sitting she plucked up her now lukewarm coffee and turned back to the other table. Plopping herself down in one of the three empty chairs, she raised her cup in silent acknowledgement when the blond glanced up at her over the thick back frames of her glasses. Relaxing back into the chair, Olivia casually sipped her drink. She couldn't explain why, but didn't want to stay away. She didn't want to go back to sitting alone in her dark thoughts.

"Can I help you?" Alex asked after a few minutes of pretending to study.

Olivia looked at the blonde head that was still bent over the book, and slouched down a little more in the chair, throwing her arm over the back. "Nope, I just want to make sure no one else bothers you, Ms. Cabot."

Alex let out a small huff, looked up and bit her lip, as if trying to come up with an appropriate retort. Instead she settled for a small glare and bent her head back over the text. A few minutes and not so subtle glances later, Alex finally gave up, took her glasses off, leaned back in her chair, and dropped her highlighter unceremoniously onto the table.

"You know, you could make sure that 'no one else bother's me' from another table," she replied, arms folded over her chest.

Olivia took the clipped statement as an opening and scooted forward in her seat, propping her elbows on the table, letting the coffee cup swing from her fingertips. "I could… But if I was watching you from over there," she gestured at her abandoned table. "It would be creepy, this way it's charming and chivalrous," she rationalized, an impish grin on her face.

"Do you make a habit of rescuing and then hitting on strangers in coffee shops are am I just special?" Alex was still sitting in the same position, unimpressed.

"Oh, from what I can tell, Ms. Cabot, you are definitely special. But, no, for your information this is not something I usually do. I've just had a very bad day and didn't feel like sitting alone anymore with the freakishly horrible images replaying in my head. So, to be honest I just wanted to talk to you, but I know you have to study and I have run out of coffee so I will take that as my cue to leave."

Alex was taken aback by the brutally honest and haunted look in the other woman's eyes and suddenly couldn't help but feel like she had studied enough. Before she knew what was happening, her hand placed itself gently on the detective's arm successfully stopping her from leaving.

"Thank you, Detective, for the help earlier and for effectively distracting me from studying and from Derek Langan, I greatly appreciate it."

"It was no problem, Ms. Cabot. Thank you for the company even if it was unwilling. And it's Olivia."

"Alex."

"It was nice to meet you, Alex. You should probably get back to studying and make sure to get some sleep, we need some good new ADAs so you need to ace that Bar tomorrow," Olivia's fingers slipped into the pouch that held her badge and she pulled out a business card. "If you ever need anything, you can find me at the 1-6."

"Okay," Alex responded quietly, cradling the small card in the palm of her hand like it was a new prized possession.

"Olivia!" She managed to call as the detective neared the door, "Why was your day so horrible?"

Olivia turned around, still backing her way towards the door and shrugged, "It was my birthday."

With that the brunette turned and pushed her way through the door to the bustling streets of The City.