Title: Tricks and Treats

Fandom: L&O: SVU

Pairing: Alex/Olivia, (Abbie/Serena)

Spoilers: No major spoilers

Disclaimer: They belong to Dick Wolf, not me. *sad face*

Dedication: To my Mistress.

Rating: MA+ (Smut and hilarity, no redeeming social value)

AN: Not my best work, I admit, but I decided to give you guys a treat for Halloween before National Novel Writing Month starts at midnight! Magnetic Resistance Universe, even though it reminds me a little more of Exhibitionist...

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Tricks and Treats

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“Oh-liv-i-a,” Alex sighed in exasperation, resting both hands on her hips and shaking her head. “Please tell me that isn't your Halloween costume.”

“What, you don't like it?” The detective pretended to pout, glancing at Alex over the familiar frames of an old pair of glasses. “I thought I'd dress up as you for Halloween.” She was also wearing one of Alex's power suits, which fit her surprisingly well considering the differences in their figure. Alex's briefcases rested on her feet.

“Honey, many people have tried – and failed – to be me, and not just on Halloween. But the glasses do look kind of cute on you.”

Olivia stood up, letting the briefcase drop to the floor and clicking over to her lover in heels. “Can a lawyer get a kiss around here?” she asked, wrapping an arm around Alex's waist and pulling her close. “And no, this isn't my actual Halloween costume. I just wanted to see the look on your face when you saw me all dolled up, wearing your clothes and a pair of your old glasses...”

Obligingly, Alex leaned in to give her lover a soft, sweet peck on the mouth. Then, she removed her spare pair of glasses and ruffled the detective's short hair fondly. “You are a troublemaker.” Spinning Olivia around, she sent her back into their bedroom with a firm swat to her behind. “Get going, Benson, or you're going to be late. Remember to put on your real costume before you head over to Abbie's.”

“Quick, to the Alexmobile! No Defense Attorney will be safe!” Olivia called out over her shoulder, determined to have the last word. Alex just rolled her eyes and picked up her purse, heading out the door without bothering to lock up. She had promised Abbie that she would help decorate the new brownstone that she and Serena had bought for their combined Halloween/Housewarming party.

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“I'm glad I didn't bring extra alcohol,” Alex said, staring suspiciously at the blood-red punch bowl. “Do I want to know what you spiked this stuff with?”

“Prob'ly not, sugar,” Abbie drawled, hooking her thumbs in the belt of her blue jeans and tapping the toe of her leather boot on the ground. “I still say you shoulda dressed up as a Dominatrix, Lexie. That would definitely shock Olivia.”

Alex wrinkled her nose in distaste. She hated it when Abbie called her Lexie, and she also disliked the suggestion. “I don't think so, Abs . I'll keep that outfit in my closet for another occasion.”

Serena shrugged, adjusting the bodice of her saloon girl outfit, which still wasn't sitting right since Abbie had pulled it down earlier. “I figured it was appropriate, since I'll probably be refilling a lot of drinks tonight anyway. You and Olivia should have coordinated costumes, too.”

“Where's the fun in that? This way, we get to surprise each other.”

Alex looked down at her Lady Justice costume, allowing herself a moment of smug pride. The robes had been easy to find, but acquiring a realistic sword and set of metal scales was much more difficult. The final touch was the see-through blindfold around her eyes. She was sure that her costume would surprise and please her detective, especially since she had neglected to wear anything underneath the robes. That will give her easy access later...

“When is tall, dark, and dashing supposed to show up at this shindig, anyhow?” Abbie asked, twirling her spurs with a small clinking sound.

Serena rolled her eyes. “Stop it! Alex, she's been doing that all evening and it's driving me up the wall.”

Abbie was unrepentant. “My flair for annoyance is part of my southern charm.”

“No,” Alex coughed after taking a sip of the surprisingly strong punch. Fortunately, none of the red liquid got on her robes. “I think you come by it naturally. Come on, let me help you hang those cobwebs. Where should I put my sword? – Abbie, don't answer that!”

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Forty-five minutes later, the Carmichael-Southerlyn Halloween party was in full swing. Abbie was on her best behavior (relatively speaking), since several of her former colleagues from the DA's office and a few of her friends from DC were in attendance. Much to everyone's shock, Former EADA and Judge Elizabeth Donnelly made an appearance as the Wicked Witch of the West, complete with green face paint. Alex was impressed.

“You know, your Saloon Girl idea is pretty standard, now that I've seen a couple of other costumes,” she whispered to Serena, who had escaped a gaggle of her fellow ACLU colleagues. Most of them had tried to depict abstract ideas instead of wearing actual costumes. One had tried to come as ‘war', covering his shirt in fake blood and holding a sword and a little plastic gun. Alex took a small amount of pride in the fact that her sword was much more realistic. Another one was trying to protest nuclear weapons by taping pipe cleaners to himself in order to resemble an atomic particle or something – Alex couldn't be sure.

“Yeah, and I don't feel so self-conscious now. Some of the women here are showing way more skin than me.”

Alex wrinkled her nose. “Who are those people?”

Serena let out a long-suffering sigh. “The twenty-something dates brought by certain male members of our esteemed judiciary. Twenty bucks their wives kill them later. Apparently they figured since Abbie's name was on the invitation, no one would care. Of course, any other year, that would have been like bringing the woman a buffet.”

“Maybe that was the point,” Alex pointed out.

Her friend smiled softly to herself behind the bright red makeup that adorned her pouting lips. “Well, I think Abbie will leave them severely disappointed.”

“Did someone call my name?” Serena gasped as hands wrapped around her waist from behind, but relaxed into the familiar line of Abbie's body as she recognized the voice and touch.

“Speak of the devil and she shall appear. Did you see Donnelly's costume?”

“The woman is a riot, I swear. I wish she had been my EADA!”

“No, you don't,” Alex muttered. “I think my poor ass still has marks on it.”

“From Liz? Shoe marks, maybe. Teeth marks or handprints would probably be from Olivia, though.”

Alex chose not to protest the comment because it reminded her of something else. “By the way, Tex, have you seen Olivia? She should have been here half an hour ago.”

“No earthly. Maybe she's already here and you just haven't recognized her yet?” That did sound like something Olivia would do, Alex thought – mingle with the guests until Alex noticed her costume, like some kind of game.

After five minutes of scanning the crowd, Alex had found two overweight, elderly men dressed as prostitutes, an impressive gargoyle (also male) complete with wings, a Candy Bar, Babe Ruth (that one was Casey Novak, who was having a grand time by the punch bowl with a few admiring male lawyers – she had to admit that Casey was definitely the prettiest Babe Ruth she had ever encountered), and – ironically – Waldo, but no Olivia Benson.

Sighing with frustration, Alex adjusted her crown and draped her scales around her neck, freeing one of her hands. She decided to retrieve her purse from Abbie and Serena's room. Maybe Olivia had been delayed and left a message on her cell phone. Slipping away from the party, she hurried up the stairs to the second floor, cursing when she realized that she could not find the light switch. Growling in frustration, she moved her hand around in the dark, groping for the plastic square until her palm hit something soft. Immediately, Alex raised her sword in a defensive posture, but a warm hand gripped her wrist and lowered the tip of the weapon.

“Easy there, sweetheart. What's a pretty dame like you doing all alone in the dark?”

The momentary panic that had set in when she had realized that she was not alone began to fade. Her heart still pounding from the adrenaline spike, Alex dropped the sword and scales onto the carpet as Olivia switched the hallway lights on ‘dim'.

“There you are – oh!” Alex's face broke in a wide grin as she examined the costume her lover had chosen for the first time.

Wearing an open trench coat and fedora, Olivia held an unlit cigar in her free hand. The other still gripped Alex's wrist, and the blonde realized that Olivia could probably feel her hammering pulse. Gentle fingers caressed her face, removing the blindfold and tucking it into the pocket of her coat. With an even clearer view than before, Alex's eyes drifted downwards. They stopped at the noticeable bulge in the detective's gray slacks and widened hungrily.

“Now, Miss... Cabot – right? Strange hallways aren't safe for the likes of you. Why don't you let me escort you somewhere a little more private?” With a soft pull, Olivia brought their bodies together in a light embrace. Alex shuddered.

She pulled back when she felt the outline of the bulge in Olivia's pants pressing against her hip, biting her lower lip and staring up at her lover through long blonde eyelashes. “Oh my,” she said, dragging a teasing finger down the front seam of Olivia's slacks. “You seem to have a problem, Detective. I don't suppose there's anything I can do to help?”

Alex felt Olivia's breath hitch, and her own heart skipped a beat. “What did you have in mind?” Hooking her finger around Olivia's loose tie, she pulled the brunette forward until their lips were almost touching. Holding eye contact, she waited for her lover to make the next move.

Olivia's lips slanted roughly over hers, claiming her mouth in a deep kiss, and the blonde fought back just as eagerly, allowing herself to be twirled and walked backwards down the hall. Olivia's hip bumped into a hallway table, and her shiny new Oxfords stepped on bare toes that Alex's strappy sandals did little to protect, but both women were too far gone to care.

“Well, Mr. Spade,” Alex murmured, trailing a soft line of kisses along Olivia's jaw and up towards her ear, “you're supposed to be a detective, right? Why don't you do some investigating?”

Too aroused to come up with a suitable response, Olivia tugged Alex into the nearest room and trapped her against the closed door, kissing the column of her throat and gripping both wrists with one hand, allowing the other to roam underneath Alex's loose robes. When she discovered that the attorney wasn't wearing anything beneath them, she let out a low purr. Grabbing one of Alex's legs, Olivia settled it around her waist, letting Alex's bare knee cup her hip, pulling her closer...

Alex gasped. The hand holding her wrists against the door, the feel of the toy rubbing against her through the fabric of Olivia's slacks, the warm mouth on her neck, even the feel of the fedora brushing her face as the detective kissed along her collarbone, it was all too much for her body to handle. She tilted her pelvis, trying to find more contact, but Olivia pulled her hips back, not willing to give in just yet. “And here I thought you were a classy sort of broad, Miss Cabot.”

Well, if Olivia was going to be a film noir private eye tonight, that meant she got to be the femme fatale , and she wasn't going to let Olivia have all the fun. With newfound determination, she dropped to her knees, forcing her lover to release her wrists in surprise. Smirking up at her detective, she began unbuttoning Olivia's pants, running her tongue over her lips. “Why detective, wherever did you ever get that idea?”

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“Hey, Abbie, have you seen Alex anywhere?” Casey Novak asked, chewing on a wadded ball of Bubble Yum. She had decided to avoid the punch bowl in favor of the candy that went along with her costume, knowing Abbie's preference for dumping hard liquor in to most drinks she served at parties. “I haven't said hello to her yet.”

Abbie shrugged. “Yep. Last I saw her, she was going upstairs for her cell phone.” She gestured at the stairs leading to the second floor, pausing for a moment to think as ‘Thriller' pumped from the sound system. “Hey, could you do me a favor? I think I saw Olivia down here a minute ago. Could you go find her? I should really stay here and play hostess.”

“Sure. No problem.” With another smack of her gum, the redhead sashayed over to the staircase, bobbing her head to the music and watching someone in a gorilla suit (she hoped it was not one of the judges) attempt to moonwalk, only pausing to strike a Michael Jackson pose.

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“Oh, Christ...” Olivia groaned, hands tangling in soft blonde hair, ignoring the spiked circlet of Alex's crown. If watching her lover use her mouth on the toy wasn't enough to send her heart shooting up into her throat, the fingers that had squeezed underneath her harness to graze wet, excited flesh certainly helped.

“Just Alex,” she teased, curling her fingers and making Olivia's legs buckle. She might have made a joke about coming back from the dead, but Olivia, who was determined to regain her lost ground, pulled away just long enough to hoist Alex back to her feet and flip her around.

“Maybe now you'll be a little more cooperative.” Olivia added a chastising nip to Alex's shoulder for good measure, using her weight to spread both of Alex's legs...

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Casey wandered up the stairs and down the dim hallway, continuing to hum ‘Thriller' under her breath as she tried to figure out which room Alex had put her things in. She wished there was a way to brighten the lights. There was probably another switch somewhere on the wall, but she didn't want to waste time looking for it.

That was when she heard low, eerie moans coming from a closed off room to her left. To her embarrassment, the first thought that ran through her head was: Oh shit, Carmichael and Southerlyn's house is haunted!

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Alex gasped at the firm pressure between her legs, slowly stretching her, making her inner muscles tug with a low, burning ache that just wasn't – quite – satisfied yet... “Liv, d-don't stop...” she panted, her voice low and her breathing ragged. She was far beyond teasing now, and she would have done a tap dance in front of the Supreme Court if Olivia just...

Her soft gasps became high, mewling whimpers as her detective began rocking in and out of her with deep, firm thrusts, letting go of Alex's hands and gripping her waist to bring their bodies even tighter together, creating delicious friction.

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Casey gripped the handle of her bat and hoisted it above her shoulder, putting on a brave scowl as she prepared for her paranormal encounter. “I ain't afraid of no ghost,” she stated loudly, with a lot more confidence than she felt. “Carmichael probably put a tape recorder in there to scare the guests. She'd do something sneaky like that...”

As she approached the last doorway on the left side of the hall, the moans, whimpers, and growls coming from inside seemed to grow louder.

J'ai envie de toi...” Wait – since when did ghosts (even tape-recorded ghosts) speak French? Casey was no expert, but she had watched enough foreign movies to recognize the language. “Tu me rends humide...”

Her heart still pounding double-time against her ribs, she reached for the knob with a pale, shaking hand and peeked inside.

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“Abigail Carmichael, I should tell your mother on you,” Serena said, giving her girlfriend a sharp nudge with her elbow.

Abbie gave the blonde her best ‘Who, me?' expression, but Serena wasn't fooled. “You saw Olivia follow Alex up the stairs, and everyone knows those two screw like rabbits. You deliberately sent Casey up there to embarrass all three of them.”

The dark-haired Texan tried her most charming smile, and Serena finally caved in and started grinning along with her. “Okay, maybe. I had my suspicions Olivia was gonna be in tall cotton once she caught up with blondie, but they were askin' for it.”

Serena snorted. “If you don't mind me using one of those Texan colloquialisms Alex is so fond of, I suspect there's about to be a yellowjacket in the outhouse.”

That sent Abbie into a howling fit of laughter. “That's my girl! I'll make a big-haired Texan housewife outta you yet!”

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“I make you wet, huh? I guess that means you're enjoying this...” Olivia whispered into the shell of Alex's ear, giving her slender hips another firm squeeze before sliding one hand down her lover's abdomen, hissing with pleasure as she felt Alex's inner lips flared open around the silicone shaft.

“Not there. Higher,” Alex begged, her hands helpless to guide and direct since they were braced tight against the wall (they had abandoned the door because Olivia's thrusts inside of her made it rattle on its hinges).

Her pleas were finally answered when Olivia's index finger and thumb closed around her in a soft, rolling pinch. Feeling Alex's body ripple with contractions, she smiled into the skin of her lover's neck.

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Casey's mouth fell open as she stumbled backwards away from the door, holding her hands in front of her face and hunching her shoulders in a defensive position. At least they had still been wearing their costumes. Mostly. Sort of. “Shit, shit, shit...” she muttered between clenched teeth, backing down the hall as fast as she could. “Oh god, they're... they're... Dammit, why am I friends with a bunch of perverted lesbians?”

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“Did you hear that?” Alex asked, more of her hair falling from its messy twist as she whipped her head around to look over her shoulder. Olivia murmured reassurances, kissing the soft skin behind Alex's ear.

“Hear what?”

“That sound...”

“There wasn't any sound, just the party downstairs,” Olivia said in a strained voice, valiantly trying to ignore the pulsing between her own legs as she gave her lover a short break, allowing her to recover.

“I thought I heard – never mind... Oh, sweetie, you didn't have to stop. I'm fine.” She could feel the tightly coiled energy in Olivia's stomach, the tense sheets of muscle pressed into her back, and decided to take pity. “Hmmm... I don't think I'm done with you yet, Detective Benson. Why don't you flip me around, carry me over to that comfy looking guest bed over there, and lie back so I can go for a ride?”

Olivia snorted. “Well, I suppose this is Abbie's house.”

“Damn right. It's about time we got some revenge on he- aaah....”

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Abbie, who had been keeping an eye on the stairs, tickled Serena's shapely, exposed calf with the leather toe of her boot to get her attention. Both of them turned towards the stairs, watching a mortified Casey stumble over the last two steps and wobble dangerously at the bottom.

Serena clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “Abbie, you shouldn't have done that.”

“CARMICHAEL! I'm going to kill you!”

The dark-haired lawyer gave her lover's hand a quick squeeze. “Later, ‘Rena. I think it's time for this cowgirl to ride off into the sunset...” And Abbie was off, dodging a cardboard box of Tic Tacs and the Abominable Snowman as Casey charged after her, brandishing her Maplewood bat with death in her eyes.

Serena groaned, cradling her hand in her forehead and making an important decision. If Abbie ever asked her what she thought about hosting a Christmas party, the answer was definitely going to be ‘not in your wildest dreams'. She didn't want to imagine what kind of trouble she would get up to with the mistletoe.


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