The break room was quiet and peaceful in the early morning. She liked this part of the day, when she could follow some sort of the same pattern as she had before.
She'd come in, find her way to the break room and start the coffee. Elliot would be there by then, checking their messages, his and hers because they wouldn't tackle any of them alone anyways.
She knew how he liked his coffee, and she'd managed to find the perfect balance of dark, bitter coffee and the sweetness of the sugar so that she'd see his smile every morning when he took the first sip. It was the tiniest of happinesses, and she hadn't realized how much she would miss it.
Elliot was gone.
It was a fact, as unequivocal as the rising and falling of sun, but the hole gaping in her heart was just as unchangeable, just as inescapable. She'd never taste his mouth again, never run her fingers along the ridges of his chest, never feel him inside of her again. His wry smirk, the twinkling of his grey blue eyes, and the low timber of his voice had left her alone, searching blindly in the dark for those things which become her points on the compass of their life. Where she travelled now was unmapped, an unexplored wilderness that would eat her up as surely as it would spit her back out again.
Olivia poured her solitary cup of coffee, feeling no sense of fulfillment at the task nor desire to drink it. It felt like every other thing in her life, mundane and useless, a graveyard of memories.
The intensity and the frequency of how often she wished for a state of non-existence should have terrified her. She knew far too well the earmarks of depression, but it was as with as much vehemence that she prayed for release from the heartbreak that she denied ever needing deliverance from any man or romantic entanglement. What she thought was acceptance had come quickly, though in the weeks that followed she'd come to understand that pretending as though the emptiness inside her did not exist was not the same as processing Elliot's sudden departure.
She closed her eyes, swaying in front of the coffee maker as the thick knot of dread she'd pushed down all morning rose. She drew a deep breath through her nose, attempting to stem the startling emotion. She hated crying, hated feeling sorry for herself, hated feeling so dependent upon something, or in this case, someone.
"You beat me to it."
Olivia started, nearly spilling the cup of steaming coffee as the charming, Southern lilt of Amanda Rollins' voice jarred her out of her self pitying thoughts.
Annoyance immediately flooded her veins, and she tossed a strained glance over her shoulder at the other detective as her heart slowed.
She may not have moved on from Elliot's retirement, but life marched on around her. The inner workings of SVU chugged onwards, and she'd had no say in the transfer of Amanda Rollins, a young detective from Atlanta, Georgia, who appeared too wet-behind-the-ears to shine in even the smallest light upon Elliot's legacy.
A replacement? She'd demanded, flying into Cragen's office with tears burning her eyes. I barely got his desk packed up!
He'd taken her distress with a calm, though compassionate expression. He'd apologized, following it with the reiteration of everything she already knew - he decided to leave and we can't change that; we have a precinct to run, victims to attend to…
She'd left, subconsciously determined not accept this intruder, this interloper. Seeing her at his desk every day was almost more than she could take.
"The coffee." Amanda clarified when Olivia didn't answer, jarring her back to the present once more.
"In Atlanta that was always my job, but I think that had more to do with my sex than my joy for the morning."
She scoffed, lounging down into a chair at the table, and Olivia turned her gaze back towards the coffee, her jaw clenched.
Atlanta this, Atlanta that. She thought, sarcastically. If it's that great why don't you go-
"It's kinda nice not being the only one now." Amanda added, and Olivia could hear the hopefulness in her voice.
She wanted some sort of camaraderie, and had Olivia been in a different position, she would've been more than happy to work with another woman in the Special Victims Unit. God knew there were too many insensitive men… but Amanda wasn't just another woman. She was the person sitting where Elliot had always been for the past twelve years.
And so the anger came, as it always did, an unfair, blistering anger which was neither immediately satisfying nor eventually fulfilling. There'd be no universe in which she'd find her behavior towards Amanda acceptable, but she could not stop herself.
"Well, don't get used to it." She finally, replied, lifting her chin. "We all take equal responsibility around here."
Turning away from the coffee maker, she took her coffee with every intention of leaving the room and the frivolous small talk.
"Hey." Amanda caught her, rising from her chair was a frown beginning on her brow. "I didn't mean anything by that. I just meant…"
Her voice trailed away as Olivia continued to stare at her with a stony expression. She knew she shouldn't be so unexplainably cold, but she felt if she opened her mouth something even worse would fall out.
"It's just... it's nice not to be the only woman." Amanda finally finished with a shrug, her sharp blue eyes searching Olivia's for understanding, and it was uncomfortably intense.
Olivia glanced down at the steam and foam swirling in her coffee, avoiding Amanda's gaze as her stomach twinged with guilt.
"It's nice you feel that way." She finally replied, her voice a strained rasp.
Turning away, she kept her chin down and strode from the room before she could feel anymore self disdain.
She could feel Amanda's eyes following her, and she escaped into the squad room. Sinking to her desk chair, she clasped a hand over her forehead which was already pounding.
Jesus, what is your problem? She asked herself, viscously.
She'd known long enough that her and Elliot's relationship would never be anything more than an office affair that she shouldn't be so impacted by his departure. She'd told herself enough times that eventually he would leave that she shouldn't be shocked. She certainly shouldn't be taking it out on a young, clueless detective who was only trying to impress her.
She'd seen the way Amanda gazed at her, wide-eyed and flushed, upon their first shaking hands, and it had caused an inward groan. She was no idol, and at the moment, not even close to a role model. The Olivia Benson that Amanda had expected to work with didn't exist right now, and with creeping self despair, Olivia wondered if she ever had.
xxxxxx
A week later
The DD-5 lying in front of Amanda had been finished for well over an hour, but instead of going home she'd spent the time casting short glances at the desk across from her under the guise of editing the fine details. There were only two of them left here in the squad room, though it might as well have been one from the way the other woman ignored her.
Olivia had been cold towards her since day one, but ever since the arrest of Brian Smith, their exchanges had become even more strained. Olivia had spent the entire case down playing and disregarding Amanda's ideas and leads, even when it was obvious that she had more knowledge and experience with the case. Amanda had thought that bringing her expertise to the table would impress Olivia or at least earn her a little respect, but apparently she'd been wrong.
Now, she wasn't sure why she was wasting her time away on a Friday evening when there were plenty of bars to hop and bets to cast, but she'd remained in her seat, enthralled by their solitary co-existance.
Olivia Benson was an enigma, and the fact that Amanda had read her so wrong through childish, idolizing gazes irked her more than she cared to admit. She had thought that by moving to a more liberal, progressive state such as New York she'd be able to escape the boy's club atmosphere of the police department. Upon hearing she'd be working with a decorated, female officer such as Benson she'd had so much hope for a more positive future in her career, but so far the other detective had given her nothing but patronizing looks and condescending replies. It was almost as if Benson didn't want her here, although Amanda couldn't figure out what exactly she'd done wrong.
Maybe I'm not the most pleasant person. She'd told herself. Maybe I can be too assertive or too eager or too whatever…
But the truth was she actually tried with Benson, so much so that she hardly recognized herself when the other woman walked into the room. Something came over, something inevitable and inescapable, something indescribable, and she'd felt it as soon as they had met. With a flutter of her heart and a twist and turn of her stomach, Olivia had captivated her.
Maybe, it was her tall figure that Amanda imagined was something akin to the Greek goddesses of mythology; or maybe it was the ever shifting, sparkling hazel of her eyes that were dark and mysterious one moment, then wide and golden the next. Maybe it was her smile, or the sound of her voice, or maybe the little lift of her brow when she was annoyed, amused, or sarcastic. Maybe it was just the warmth of her long, olive fingers the first time they shook hands. It was something so sensual and swift that it took her breath away, no matter how Olivia regarded her.
And it was obvious that she didn't want to regard her, at least not in any kind of way that Amanda had imagined she might. She knew that Benson had just lost a partner, and she'd heard whisperings about the man who had stood by Olivia's side for a dozen years, but she hadn't expected such a reaction to her replacement of him. She'd seen detectives get messed up over losing a partner, but, for Christ's sake, the man wasn't dead. Why did she feel like she was intruding upon this squad, or maybe just upon Olivia, when she was simply taking over a job for a retired officer? Every interaction they shared felt like an accusation, and Amanda had only become more aware of it with each passing day.
Lifting an inconspicuous gaze over the top of her computer screen once more, she watched Olivia staring off across the room, her chin propped atop her folded hands. Her thoughtful gaze didn't give away much of what she might be thinking, but considering she'd been in that position for over 15 minutes, Amanda assumed that something was bothering her. If she hadn't felt she might be brushed aside or snapped at, she might have gone over to her. Lord knew she was itching to know what her problem was.
"Can I help you?" Olivia's voice jarred her.
Amanda jumped back in the chair, scrambling to appear busy. Her heart slammed up against her ribs as she realized her own mind had wandered and she'd been caught staring.
"No, no, I'm good." Amanda managed to say, tucking her hair nervously behind her ear to hide her flushing cheeks from Olivia's view. She stared down at the desk, hoping the burn of Olivia's gaze would recede, but when it didn't she glanced up to see her looking back at her, one eyebrow raised.
"You just seemed….troubled." Amanda stuttered.
Olivia pursed her lips and looked away.
"I'm fine. What's keeping you so late?"
Amanda swallowed a curse, and glanced back at the computer screen, searching for some kind of response.
"Finishing my fives."
"You've been done for an hour." Olivia noted, casually, sitting back in the chair and folding her legs. Her suspended leg bounced slowly, and Amanda could feel her gaze searing holes into her forehead again.
"Right." She grimaced, meeting Olivia's eyes. "I guess I just don't have much to go home to. My apartment is still pretty bare."
"So you spend your Friday evenings on the job?" Olivia chuckled, cynically.
"Well, so do you apparently." Amanda snapped, quickly, embarrassed by Olivia's apparent amusement at her life. "You've been sitting there for two hours staring at that desk."
Amanda jabbed her finger towards the empty desk across from Olivia. She immediately regretted the hasty response when not just one, but both of Olivia's perfectly arched brows rose above a surprised and irritated expression.
"Maybe you should spend your Friday evenings somewhere besides in my business." Olivia suggested, her eyes narrowing.
Amanda's jaw slipped open at the sheer rudeness of the other detective and she struggled to come up with a response as Olivia rose from her chair with a concieted flip of her long dark hair.
That's it. She thought, her heart pounding in her ears with pent up frustration.
She was trembling as she jumped up from her own chair, her chest burning.
"Hey."
Olivia paused at her command, her finger poised in the midst of buttoning her jacket.
"What?" Her voice was low and strained.
Amanda hesitated for another second, watching as Olivia knotted the belt of the pea coat.
What is your fucking problem? She wanted scream across the room. What the fuck did I ever do to you?
Olivia tossed her hair over her collar, and glanced back at Amanda, expectantly. Her sparkling, chestnut gaze almost dared her to speak, dared her to just give Olivia a reason, a justification.
Amanda clenched her hands into fists against the edge of the desk and gazed down at her paperwork. She counted her breaths, forced her heart to slow, pushed down every urge to retaliate.
Don't give her the satisfaction. Don't give her the satisfaction. Don't give her the satisfaction.
"Did you have something to say?" Olivia asked at last.
Lifting her eyes, Amanda smiled tightly and shook her head.
"No, Liv." She replied tightly, and sat back down at her desk. "Have a good weekend."
She pinned her eyes on the file in front of her, and waited for Olivia's eyes to stop burning her.
But even when she heard her turn away and her footsteps retreated, she wasn't sure she'd ever escape that fiery gaze or if she even wanted to.
Rejection be damned. She never had known what was good for her or when to stop.