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Cold Fish

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It happened after what probably was his fifth drink. They had been talking. A lot . Laughing. And that was it. Talking.

Cold fish .

He had heard about her and Stabler, the worst of it all was that it wasn’t really something he could compete with, nothing had really happened between them but there was something between them.

“That was Stabler, right?” he asked “They guy you entered the bar with? Elliot Stabler?”

Olivia blinked a few times, shifted on her seat, “Ah, yes, that was him. He’s my partner. A little too protective,” she smiled.

He nodded, took another gulp of his whisky

“What?” there was an edge to her voice, her shoulders had grown tense.

Cold fish.

He might get slapped for this.

He chuckled to himself, which earned a confused smirk from her.

“What? What is it?”

“You’re not going to like it”

“Say it,” an alarm went off in his head, the alcohol made him ignore it. “This guy from Homicide said I never stood a chance with you,” she watched him closely now, “said ‘Nah, Benson is a cold fish. Sex crimes do that to a woman. But I hear she warms up just nicely for Stabler’”

For a passing moment her eyes went wide, she shifted again, “Is that so? And you listen to gossip?”

He shrugged. “Should I? I mean, I saw him with you, interesting eye thingy going on between the two of you”

“He’s married”

“That has never stopped anyone, detective Benson” he smirked.

It’s something on her eyes, he knew it the moment he saw it.

She warms up just nicely for Stabler .

“We’re done here,” she laid twenty bucks on the counter.

He watched her leave, chuckled and downed another gulp.