Title: Loose Marble
Author: crammit
Fandom: Guiding Light
Rating: M
Pairing: Olivia/Natalia
Summary: With Natalia agreeing to Frank's proposal, Olivia is left to struggle with her growing feelings for Natalia. Will she be able to say something before it's too late?
A/N: Guiding Light and its characters do not belong to me. I'm only borrowing them. But I promise to put them right back where I found them.

Natalia…

Your name runs around my head like a loose marble. Smooth and gently bumping up against different parts of my brain, lingering long enough to register but not long enough to get a hold of.

Bump…the dimple that holds my attention every time you smile.
Bump…your dark eyes bright with excitement as Emma tells us about her day at school.
Bump…the subtle brush of your hands against mine as I help you dry the dishes, both of us pointedly ignoring the blush blooming along our cheeks.
Bump…the clean smell of your skin as you pass me on the stairs.
Bump…remembering the all-too-fleeting feel of your lips against mine during THAT kiss.
Bump…the way I catch you looking at me sometimes, like my eyes hold the answer to some question you're afraid to ask.
Bump…how easy it is to imagine walking over to you and…bump, bump, bump.

Startled, I open my eyes and realize my daydreaming bumps are actually knocks. I look over and catch you peering at me around my bedroom door, a half smile on your face and a basket of folded laundry in your hands.

Pushing the door the rest of the way open, you put the basket down next to the wall and gesture towards my nightstand. For a brief moment, I'm struck with a heart pounding fear that it's my bed that has captured your attention.

You take a few more steps into the room, your dimple flashing in full force. "Emma is almost finished with her bath and wanted me to bring her the book you two were reading last night."

"Book?" I repeat the word like I've never heard it spoken before, the loose marble having knocked itself into the common sense part of my brain.

"Yessss…," you draw the word out as your eyes roam over my face. "Are you okay? You seem a little…something."

"Something?" I say this on a low laugh, all the while wondering at my sudden inability to form a full sentence. I run my fingers over my eyes and attempt to wipe the color off my cheeks. I smile at you and shake my head in apology.

"Sorry, sorry. Just have a lot on my mind, you know? With Phillip and Emma…" I trail off with a shrug of my shoulders. Oh, and I can't stop thinking about the wedding and you and Frank and I swear if I don't kiss you again soon, I'm going to lose it.

You detour on your way to picking up the book and stop to run your hand over my shoulder in a gesture of comfort. "I know you're worried but I promise you, we won't let anything happen to her, okay?" The protectiveness in your voice has transformed your face and the intensity in your eyes is almost too much. I can see the love you have for Emma burning there and with your hand now resting on my forearm, I can see another emotion flickering.

The room suddenly feels too warm and I'm too aware that a half step forward would bring me well within your personal space and a few steps back would bring my bed behind my knees and that thought wouldn't do either one of us any good right now.

I reluctantly step away under the pretense of getting Emma's book for you and ask, "We? As in me, you and Frank?" I temper the emotion in my voice as I say his name with a smile, turning to hand you the book.

For a breathless second, our eyes meet and volumes are spoken despite neither one of us being brave enough to turn the page. "He'll be your husband soon." I walk past you to lean against my dresser and if I notice the brief flash of hurt in your eyes that I've put some distance between us, I ruthlessly ignore it.

You clutch the book to your chest and grace me with an over-bright smile, not making eye contact with me this time. "Y-yes, he will be. He's a good man, Olivia. He won't let anything happen to Emma."

"I know. And, he is a good man." I keep looking at you, willing you to see me. "He loves you and he makes you happy, right?"

You cast your glance from the dresser behind me to my eyes and exhale. "Yes." You smile and in reflex, I smile back but neither one touches our eyes.

And even though we are standing here discussing Frank, your fiancé for Pete's sake, I have to curl my hands into the dresser behind me to keep from striding over to you and running my hands through your hair. To take that soft hair and tangle it up in my fists and finally kiss you the way I've thought about all these months. To kiss you without a point to prove except for the one that says you couldn't possibly want me more than I want you.

My breathing sounds impossibly loud in the quiet of my bedroom and it occurs to me that more than a few seconds have passed without either one of us saying anything. There's something in your eyes and if I can dare to hope for even a minute…I clear my throat of the loose marble which seems to have lodged itself there and push off the dresser.

"Natalia…"

"Natalia, I'm done!" Emma calls out from down the hallway, breaking the tension in the room with an audible whoosh.

"I'll be right there, sweetie." You call out to Emma, still looking at me. You wave the book and gesture vaguely over your shoulder. "Well, I…I'm going to finish getting Emma ready for bed. Did you want to finish reading the book to her?"

Another smile brightens my face, this one genuine at the thought of our nightly ritual. "Sure. Go ahead and tuck her in and I'll join her in a few minutes..."

You turn to go when I feel myself calling out to you. "Natalia?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks for always being there for her. For us." I lift my hand to encompass the laundry and the book you still clutch to your chest.

Dimple. "Always."

I sink onto the edge of my bed with a sigh and wonder how I'm ever going to make it to the wedding.

8 steps. Turn. 8 steps. Turn. Sigh. 8 steps. Turn. 8 steps. Turn.

Two days. Two days since you accepted Frank's proposal. Two days of seeing his goofy smile everywhere I turn in this house. Two days of hearing him gush about how much he loves you and how happy he is going to make you. Two days of smiling like his happiness is my happiness. Two days of watching you to see if your happiness matches his happiness which I've tried to match with my own happiness.

If I have to take any more happiness, they are going to find me in the corner eating my own hair.

"Come on, Olivia." I chastise myself on a long exhale. He's a good guy. I tell myself over and over that he's a good guy. That he's good for you. That you deserve someone that will make you happy. Someone who will make you feel safe and loved. Someone who will take care of you the way you take care of other people. Someone like…

Frank.

What kind of name is Frank, anyway? Frank. If you ask me, it sounds more like a sneeze than a name. Frank! Oh, God bless you.

"Frank!" I hear you call out from the kitchen. I stare pointedly at your sacred statue. The one that's been watching me pace in the living room for the past half-hour. "Ask and ye shall receive, huh? Very funny."

I make my way into the kitchen, trying to time my entrance to miss Frank's greeting.

"Oh hey, Olivia! We didn't hear you come in." Frank smiles his goofy smile at me while you discretely wipe your hand against your mouth.

Clearly I need to work on my timing.

"Hey. So I hear you are joining us for dinner tonight." I end my sentence with a smile for good ol' lovable Frank but my eyes track you as you flutter around the kitchen. I wonder briefly if you are embarrassed by me seeing your kiss with Frank but dismiss the notion as quickly as it comes. You are a grown woman and you are perfectly capable of kissing anyone you'd like. Anyone. Anyone at all. Like me, for instance.

Or not. I watch as Frank leans in to kiss your cheek before sitting at our…the dining room table. I know better than to ask if you need any help and so I slide into my chair, keeping you in my line of sight.

"Where's Emma?"

"She was invited to a sleepover at her best friend Carly's house. Very big girl stuff." You answer Frank before I can and I'm helpless against the wave of love that washes over me. Love…LOVE?

"Wine?" I squeak, dashing to the cabinet before either one of you can answer. I can almost feel the look you two must have just exchanged at my outburst and I count to ten before turning around with the ever-present smile on my face.

"I just thought it might go nice with the meal." Lame, lame, lame.

Frank glances at you briefly and out of the corner of my eye, I can see you shrug your shoulders. "Sure. Sounds great."

"Great then." I give a jaunty thumbs-up and pull three wineglasses down.

I pour wine into the three glasses while you finish setting the table. Everything looks amazing, as usual.

"Everything looks amazing." Frank reaches over to kiss your hand and I have the sudden urge to keep pouring the wine over his head.

"Thanks!" You reward him with a dimpled smile and I down half my wine.

You finally take your seat and start to spread a napkin onto your lap. "Enjoy." This sweetly uttered word is directed at me as the eye contact I've been craving for the past 20 minutes finally comes my way. I down the rest of my wine without looking away from you.

I'm one glass in before the first plate is even passed.

Lucky for me, Frank is a talker and swings from topic to topic, never allowing the kitchen to fall into silence. Unlucky for me, the topics start to swing closer and closer to the upcoming nuptials. I give the appropriate responses and smile when it's expected but he only has a fraction of my attention.

I am enjoying watching you talk throughout dinner. The way your hands gesture to make some point or sweep gracefully up to push a lock of hair off your face. Your beautiful smile, which I foolishly believe, grows a little wider when you find me watching you. The way your lips form the words in your sentences. The way….the way Frank touches you when he makes a point. Or the way he looks to you first before asking me something. These thoughts intrude my study of you and I find myself trying to soothe a scowl with sips of wine.

Over the rim of my glass, I watch Frank and grow more and more agitated.

He's looking at you and touching you freely and…it's too much. I have to look away. Jealous much?

I watch as he rubs his thumb against the back of your hand and I realize I might actually get sick all over this lovely dinner you've made. I almost laugh at the idea but it comes out as little more than a strangled sound.

You look over and see my face. "Hey…you don't look so good. Are you going to be sick?"

You have no idea. I stand with my plate and my wineglass and shake my head, turning my full smile on you to ease the worry I see in your eyes. "I'm fine. Dinner was delicious. I just ate too fast."

"Or drank too fast," Frank whispers to you and I can hear you shush him over the clatter of my dinner plates in the sink.

I turn around to make some wise-ass remark when Frank's beeper chirps from inside his suit jacket.

"Excuse me." Checking the message, I see Frank stand with an apologetic smile already forming. "Sorry ladies, I've got to head back to headquarters."

"A hero's job is never done, is it?" I smirk at Frank but he only has eyes for you as he starts to pull you towards the door.

I can see the reluctance in your body language and I spot you looking at me over his shoulder.

"Go on. Go say good night. I'll start cleaning this up."

"You sure? You can leave it. I can get it when I get back." Frank has stopped near the door and is watching me now with that goofy smile on his face again. His happiness is her happiness is my happiness, right? Something like that.

"Go! Go! I can handle clearing the dinner dishes. Seen you do it enough times, haven't I?" You quirk your eyebrow at that and I grin at you, shooing you towards the door.

"Goodnight, Olivia. I had a great time at dinner."

"So did I. Have a good…night." But he's already out the door with you and I'm left with…dishes.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, take a deep breath and try to ignore the fact that you are standing outside, barely 6 feet away. Kissing Frank goodnight.

"Alright dishes, just you and me then."

A few minutes pass when I hear the door open and shut again. I'm standing at the sink putting the last plate on the pile of dirty dishes when it occurs to me that you haven't moved yet. I look over and you're ogling the empty table, an incredulous smile on your face.

"Oh, stop it!" I scold you but the smile in my voice takes the sting out of it. "I can clean. Sometimes."

"Remind me to mark this night down on the calendar. Emma's never going to believe this." You laugh and poke me in my side as you head over to hang your coat up.

"Cute."

You're still smiling as you walk up next to me, pushing your sleeves up past your elbows. "I'll wash, you dry?"

I nod and swallow against a rapidly drying throat. Skin. That's all I can think. My eyes slide along your forearms and follow your hands as you turn the water on. Maybe three glasses of wine weren't such a good idea. Oh boy. I grab the towel and promise myself I'll try and concentrate on not dropping every dish and cup that you'll be handing me.

As you let the water get warm, you bump me slightly with your hip. "You were kind of quiet at dinner."

"Was I?" I risk a sidelong glance at you but you're still fiddling with the sponge and dish liquid.

"Just…"

"A lot on your mind. I know."

"I didn't think you'd noticed."

"I noticed."

"Oh."

You stop what you're doing and look me right in my eyes. "You know you can always talk to me. I want you to be able to talk to me about…..you know. Whatever you might need to."

I blink slowly, a million thoughts racing through my head. I settle for the safest one. "I know. I…I trust you, Natalia."

You evaluate the answer in my eyes and must find something you like because you incline your head and offer a brief smile. "Good."

You start humming softly as you start to wash the dishes and we settle into a comfortable silence. I enjoy these quiet moments with you and I allow myself to finally relax for the first time that evening. I feel content and happy and…I can't concentrate. I want to, I really do. But…there. There it is. You're doing it again. Brushing your hands along mine as you pass me a cup. Running your fingertips against mine as you hand me a plate. I spare a glance at your face for any indication that you know what you're doing, that you know that you are one dinner plate away from being pushed up against the counter. Your eyes give away nothing and my brain tells my heart to ignore the heat in your cheeks.

But my heart, my treacherous heart plays telephone along my spine until all I hear is how amazing it might be to run my thumb along the edge of your jaw. To take your wet hands and press them against…

I'm ripped from my all too brief fantasy by the sound of your voice. "All done."

I feel a sharp pang of disappointment as I realize we've cleaned and dried everything and you're leaning over to turn the water off. A quick flash of skin winks at me as the back of your shirt rises up and suddenly I find myself spinning away from the sink and walking over to the other side of the table.

I start to straighten the chairs so as not to alarm you but I catch you watching me under your eyelashes as you arrange the chairs on the other side. Finally we are at the same chair and again I am struck by a desire so strong, I have to look down at my hands to make sure I haven't cracked the wood under my grip.

You're not smiling at me now, but just standing and I dimly realize that your breathing is matching mine. It would be so easy. Just lean forward, a slight shifting of our bodies…

You slide your hand over the back of the chair towards mine and the sparkle of your ring sounds as loudly in my head as any alarm. You track my eyes and I can almost hear your sigh. I pat your hand awkwardly and risk the eye contact one more time.

"Dinner was wonderful tonight."

"Thanks. Again."

More silence. The way you're looking at me…it's too much. And yet not enough and I feel like I'm going crazy. Mommy's sick like Daddy, Emma. Won't that go over well?

I have to get away, get some space.

"Well, I'm kind of beat so I think I'm going to turn in now." Coward.

"Goodnight, Natalia." I whisper your name like a secret.

You smile at me and turn your body as I walk past you, inhaling deeply and carrying your scent with me up towards my room.

Halfway up the stairs, I come to a decision.

You haven't really been given a choice, my heart reasons with my head. Did you think you could keep running, my head answers my heart. And it's true.

When I have ever backed down from anything? Standing there in the kitchen with you tonight…I realized something.

I'm not about to start with you.