Author's Note – I know, I know. I know! It took FOREVERRRRRRRR. But here it is. I started this months ago. Then I got writer's block, then I moved back to my home province (with my partner, in a U-haul, towing her car and our six pets behind). We still haven't found a permanent place to live, but in the meantime, I've been slogging away at this in the background. Please comment, bc Lord knows I've earned it. Lol Thank you, as always, for your kindness and patience.
Dear "Guest" reviewer, this one's for you – read it slowwww bc it'll take a while for another. Lol
Pairing: Cabenson/Rollivia
Rating: Strong M for graphic sexual content
Spoilers: Sunk Cost Fallacy, Lost (S5), Ghost (S6), Scorched Earth, The Undiscovered Country, Chasing Demons
Trigger Warnings: Use of the "C-word"*
Disclaimer: I have no money. Not mine. Man, if they were – they would be so Queer, and so happy.
*See Author's end note
Temporary Insanity
"Interesting, isn't it – the places you find people these days?"
Olivia looked up at Alex Cabot, who was leaning in her office doorway and smirking. "Sometimes downright unimaginable," she replied, without a hint of cynicism.
"Took them long enough to get your name on the door," the blonde remarked, stepping into the room with a sweeping glance at the space she'd known only as Cragen's.
"If Don was here, he'd probably agree with you."
"He was a smart man," Alex nodded. Then: "You asked to have Nick Hunter's charges reduced." She smiled.
Liv couldn't help but snort lightly, amused that Alex's ADA connections still held strong. "Yeah."
The two women held each other's gaze momentarily. Alex took another step toward Liv's desk. "Thank you," she murmured.
"I plead temporary insanity," was Liv's mumbled response.
"All insanity aside – "
"Not aside!" Liv exclaimed, her frustration driving her up from her chair. "Alex – " but Cabot shushed her, waving her hands as she hurried back to shut the office door.
"Liv, please, just – "
"Alexandra, I never would've imagined you turning your back on the law."
"Screw the law!" the blonde spat, "Do you know how long it's been since 'the law' has been written to benefit the victim over the perpetrator?!"
Olivia spread her hands, leaning on them across the desk. "Why now? If it's always been that way? Why wait all these years to become a full-time savior, huh?"
Liv regretted it before it was even completely spoken. She watched as Cabot's eyes clouded, then Liv forcefully squeezed her eyes shut and sighed. "I'm sorry. I just don't . . . understand."
"I didn't expect you to," Alex confessed. "But I did expect your help. And Jules expects it." Alex crossed the room again, skirting the desk in favor of coming right up to Olivia. "Do we have to see eye to eye, for both of us to want what's best for Jules?"
Liv knew there'd be hell to pay for Hunter's stint in Rikers – and worse, now that Stone was reducing the charges. But Alex was right; this was how they had worked together, for years.
Outside the office, the precinct was quiet. Just a skeleton crew was left, manning the desks for the night. If the two women tried, they might have even been able to hear the rustling of paperwork being filed, or squad house coffee perking.
All Olivia heard was her own tense breaths as she raised her dark eyes to Alex's icy ones. "I wish I had known where you were," she whispered.
Alexandra shook her head, close enough for the curtain of her blonde hair to brush Liv's shoulder. "I can't," she replied. It was not an explanation, but all she could offer. She touched one of Olivia's hands gently. "But I missed you."
If Carisi had noticed his Lieutenant's change of breathing, how she had paled at the site of the former ADA when they had found her, he hadn't let on. None of them had ever let on, if they'd known. For years, Alex had been the storm that Olivia kept navigating into. Over and over again, despite being alternately burned or frozen out as the landscape dictated. She turned her head, letting her lips bump into the other woman's as if the kiss were accidental.
Cabot's avidity for chasing a nobler and more intrepid path to justice may have been what first enchanted the then-young detective. Their coming together, over time, had come to mean different things to each of them – and this time would be no different.
Alex pressed into the kiss, murmuring with relief and affinity. She drew her hand up, grazing the line of the brunette's jaw, tipping her face closer. Their tongues touched, parted, took turns remembering their rhythm. Liv let out a shuddering breath, taking off her glasses.
"Lock the door," she breathed. When the tall blonde returned, Olivia coaxed her onto the edge of the desk, standing between her legs. "Did you wear a skirt on purpose?" she asked.
"I wouldn't dare be so audacious," Alex feigned, drawing a real smile from Liv at last.
"Right," Liv replied, dragging warm kisses roughly down her friend's neck. Alex was wearing a powder blue pullover, and Liv thrust her hands beneath it with palpable delight. It had been a hard couple of days, and she was happy that Alex was there.
The former ADA was all smiles, her head thrown back as Olivia brought her nipples to a peak inside her bra. "God," she whined softly, "you're wearing so much clothes."
But not for long. Liv shed her blazer, pulling her shirt from her waistband and unbuttoning the top three buttons. She pushed Alex's legs apart across the end of the desk.
No panties. Of course.
Alexandra's hands plunged into the shirt that had been opened for her, pulling the globes of Liv's breasts into her hungry palms. "Christ, you feel good," she moaned.
Liv silenced her with a kiss, scratching light lines up Alex's inner thighs. When the kiss broke, Alex bent her mouth to Liv's breasts, feeling the fingers on her thighs grip and still. Then they descended all the way under the skirt, rumpling it up onto her waist as Olivia's hands cupped her ass.
With a growl, Liv yanked Alex's waist to the edge of the desk and dropped to her knees. Despite how many times their bodies connected, the first moment was always staggering. The touch of Olivia's warm mouth to Alex's hard clit set fire to the nerves in her own, causing Liv to moan. Alex dropped a hand to the brunette's head, whispering quiet phrases of encouragement.
"I'll mess up your desk," Alex warned, her pelvis quivering under Liv's ministrations.
"I'll take care of it," Liv chuckled. She returned to her feet, two fingers continuing the work her mouth had started. Cabot was slick with want, the rest of her body faintly sheened with sweat. Liv let her head drop to the crook of her lover's shoulder.
"Mmm, Olivia . . ." Alexandra rocked her hips. "God, yes. I – " she tried fumbling with Liv's pants, her hands reaching blindly, desperate for access.
"Give me what I want, first," Liv said, her grin smug.
The sound of Olivia fucking her in the quiet office was brazen, and Olivia's stomach burned with the excitement of it, making her forget for a moment that Alex had devoted herself to a lawless cause. Liv drew back, watching Alex's face change with the onslaught of her orgasm. The statuesque blonde came, trembling on Liv's fingers, alternately groaning, then panting.
Alex hardly hesitated before grabbing Olivia by the waistband of her pants, pulling her in as she worked the button open and got the zipper down. Liv took pleasure in Alex's triumphant smile as her hands took what they wanted. It had been so, so long, and Olivia's body was jubilant at the return of its own desire. Ever to the point, Alex wasted no time fucking Liv hard and fast, eager to level their playing field.
As her own orgasm peaked and then subsided, Liv found herself in Alex's arms, her forehead pressed to her shoulder again. The blonde moved her mouth to the curve of Liv's ear. "Take me to your place," she whispered, "I want wine."
They would go to Olivia's, and yes, there would be wine. The years had brought different backdrops, many bedrooms . . . and offices, full of sleepless nights where they fucked until dawn. Mornings were the same, though: Liv would wake alone, not knowing where Alex's newest crusade would take them – or when they would see each other again, when it was over.
/ / / /
It wasn't the first time that Rollins found herself outside Olivia Benson's apartment, stalled with hesitation.
But somehow this time felt different.
Was it because she had been driven partly by jealousy, rather than simply her concern? Just months ago, she'd gone storming into Liv's apartment to metaphorically knock Cassidy upside the head. It was the closest she had come to saying and doing all the wrong things – until now, maybe. Rollins liked to tell herself that these moments always had altruistic beginnings; it was the follow-through where things got murky.
Forcing herself to shake it off, Amanda sucked in a deep breath and then knocked on the door as gently as she thought would still be heard. After a long moment, there was soft shuffling from inside, then the sound of the lock and chain being opened. Liv's face, when it appeared, was startlingly tired and noticeably anguished. Rollins' cheeks pinked with shame at her preoccupation with her own feelings as she recognized how deep whatever was haunting Liv really went.
"Hey," Amanda spoke softly. "Everything alright?"
Liv said nothing, just caught her bottom lip with her teeth as her eyes welled anew.
"Is it ok if I come in?"
Liv turned from the doorway, back into the apartment, leaving the door ajar for Amanda's entry. The blonde stepped inside and closed the door softly behind her, eyeing Liv's escape back to the couch, where she crumpled into a sniffling mess. There was a glass of red wine next to an open bottle on the coffee table, and tissues scattered haphazardly about.
"I was worried about you," Amanda's voice was nearly a whisper as she dropped onto the couch with Liv.
Bleary-eyed, the older brunette took an unsteady sip of her wine and a deep breath, but lost her nerve on the exhale. Olivia's gaze shifted about her living space, waiting and hoping for the words – or any words – to cut the uneasy silence.
Amanda had already been filled in, on how Alexandra Cabot had been the ADA for SVU for years, but knew that hardly accounted for the changes she'd seen in her Lieutenant over the past week.
What Liv finally said was: "Nearly 20 years, Rollins. That's how long I've been in sex crimes – and I could count on less than one hand the number of times that I've felt ashamed. Ashamed of my rigid, obsessive need to stick to the line. Right down the middle, like a damn tightrope." She gestured with her hand in frustration, angry at her own point. "You know, something that Barba said to me, before he left . . ."
Liv's eyes were unfocused, slow-blinking from the wine. "He said that he learned that the world isn't black and white, from me - that things aren't as easy as 'criminal,' and 'victim.' But I just tried to convince Alex of the opposite! I get so caught up in due process, that I – " Olivia choked on the sob that welled into her throat, putting a hand over her eyes. "I got the victim killed!"
Taking a deep breath, Amanda placed a careful hand on Liv's shoulder. "Liv, you know that's not true. We did what we could to keep Jules safe, just . . . sometimes the deck is stacked against us."
But it's more than that, Olivia thought. She was unnerved seeing Alex again – wanted to impress her somehow, sway her back from Chaotic Good to Lawful. It wasn't the first time she had seen Alex playing Vigilante. Liv knew that was the real home of Alex's heart, but it had been a hard year, and being reminded of past losses had tipped Liv's hand.
"You can't tell me that you think the work Alex is doing is wrong," Liv scoffed.
Rollins shrugged, indifferent. "I don't think it's about the work being right or wrong." Her brow creased thoughtfully. "Maybe what's right and what's wrong can be different for some vics, same as healing can be."
"Then why bother having the law at all?"
Amanda chuckled. "Is it so far-fetched t'think the law can do just as much damage as it does good? I mean, look at the world we're livin' in, Liv."
"Did you want some wine?" Olivia asked abruptly. When the blonde agreed, she got up and brought a second glass from the kitchen. Liv watched as Rollins took her first swallow. "Amanda. Do you . . . I mean, does it seem like," Benson fidgeted, then abandoned the idea. "Never mind."
Amanda swallowed hard, her heart beating faster. The wine warmed in her belly. She wanted Liv to keep talking. "No," she said softly, "tell me."
"Do you think I push people away?"
Rollins swirled her wine, her eyes widening. "Jesus, Liv – is there anyone who does our job who doesn't? How many happily-ever-afters can you remember over 20 years?"
She wasn't entirely wrong; SVU had always been a patchwork of misfits, terminally single or unlucky. Even Cragen hadn't found happiness again until he left SVU behind. Munch, Fin, Cassidy – all single. Her mind roved over ghosts of the 1-6's hall's. "Elliot," Liv blurted finally, blushing at the sound of his name, rusty with disuse on her tongue.
"Your old partner?" Amanda raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah. He was married – 28 years by the time he retired."
"Y'know, just because someone doesn't leave, it doesn't mean they're happy." Amanda didn't know a lot about Stabler and Benson's time together, but she knew enough. In her experience, men married at 17 either didn't stay married or . . . shifted their focus. "I thought you guys weren't close anymore?"
"We're not," Liv mumbled.
"Well, maybe they ended it," Rollins grinned.
"I don't think so."
"Why not?"
"Because – " Because he'd be here, was what she almost said aloud. She cut herself off with a gulp of wine. "Because I know him."
Olivia thought she had known Alex, too. So much had been familiar; the scent of Alex Cabot, and the grim line of her mouth when Liv challenged her. Even when she had met her earlier, asking not to hear the details – all of the motions, the night skyline, the impotence of always having to let Alex go – it was all familiar. Liv had been the body tossed off that holier-than-thou wheel this time, because Alex had always been a champion that refused to be slowed down by the perimeter of Olivia's two hands.
The two women had been colliding for years: an elemental crash of Liv's stringent reliance on real-world Justice, against Alex's unrelenting belief in what was righteous. I could never do what you do, Liv had unhesitatingly reminded her. Both women knew they worked better as a team, but Alex wasn't coming back to Lawful Good. Not this time. And Olivia would never be comfortable vibrating at Chaotic Good's frequency.
"Somethin' else is bothering you," Rollins said.
Liv glanced sidelong at her, this other, younger blonde that could also set her heart racing. Her nineteen years on the force had left battle scars from almost-but-not-quite loves lost. Olivia wanted to tell Amanda the truth – no, the Truth with a capital T truth. About how far off the target her life had landed in the last 10 years, and how close she had come to love that didn't need a painted mask at the end of the day.
I'm not drunk enough for this. Olivia drained her glass again, shaking her head at the idea of trotting out her skeletons. "It's nothing."
"Th'hell it is," Amanda rejected. "What's the matter? You don't trust me?"
"Of course I do!" Liv gave her a sharp look.
"Then talk to me."
"I don't talk to anybody," Liv protested, "it's just not who I am."
"'Cept your shrink."
Forcefully, Olivia put down the wine bottle she had picked up, taking a breath against her anger. "Ok. Ok - you're right, I'm closed off. But like you just said, it comes with the job."
"Why don't you talk to your old partner?" Amanda pushed.
"It's his decision," Liv answered flatly.
"You two sleep together?"
The last person to ask her that same question had been Richard Stabler. It was almost 10 years ago, and he had just been an angry kid. Rollins watched the muscle in Liv's jaw clench and unclench. Then: "No."
"You wanted to." It wasn't a question. She was on a roll, with no intention of stopping.
Liv chuckled nervously, "Remind me not to give you wine from now on."
"Beer makes me grow balls, too," Amanda drawled.
"Yeah," Liv bit out, filling her glass, "I wanted to sleep with him. I . . . loved him." Jesus, Olivia thought, that only took 19 years to say out loud.
Satisfied, Rollins nodded. "Happens a lot. Hell, I should know, better than most."
"He was the only one," Olivia sighed, "the only man that I loved that way. The only partner."
The wine and the younger detective's prodding had succeeded in loosening her stranglehold on twelve years of covert memories. That, and her long night of reuniting with Alex had reminded the SVU Lieutenant that she was still a hot-blooded adult underneath all those layers of self-protection.
Liv stretched out, crossing her legs at the ankle, letting her gaze travel over Amanda more slowly. Six years had passed since she had left Atlanta and started with the SVU in New York. Before Olivia had even become a Sergeant; before she had let go of Elliot, packing away her years with him like so many boxes inside the walls she was building. The young blonde had pissed Liv off simply by being fresh and passionate alongside Liv's crushed, tired years.
As they worked together, however, Olivia refused to let Rollins be pin-balled by the Boys' Club. Liv found herself coming to the young woman's defense, making sure that the male officers took her seriously, despite her frustration. Over time, as Liv realized that Amanda may have snuck in before her walls were fully erected, she tried to tell herself she was imagining it – that maybe she had developed an unhealthy habit of only falling for people that she refused to actually date.
Amanda, for her part, was hardly a fool. She had read Cassidy like a book left open, sensing the lukewarm sentiment from Liv's side of things, and Amanda had politely tiptoed around the friendship between Barba and Olivia. But something clearly had set a fire in her regarding the Hunter case – and Liv's behavior around Alex, and Olivia had a pretty good idea what it was.
"The first time is always rough." Amanda finally broke the silence, her words tinged with her own safeguarded remembrances.
"What was his name?"
Rollins bristled, then countered: "How did Cabot hurt you?"
Liv's eyes widened over the edge of her wine glass. She swallowed hard. "She left. Because of a case. She went into Witness Protection, after she got in too deep on something." Liv looked at her hands. "I didn't see her for two years."
"But she came back eventually."
"She fell in love with someone else while she was gone."
Satisfied, Amanda spoke again after a beat. "Her name was Rebecca. Beck, for short."
A ripple of unfamiliar commiseration went through Olivia. "Tell me," she murmured.
"The South happened," Amanda shrugged. "Beck never felt safe. It was like . . . a high school crush she wanted to grow out of, so she could settle down. After she got married, the force quit lookin' at'er like some bug they'd never seen before."
"Did she quit?"
"Nah, she requested a transfer to a desk job after they punched out a couple'a kids. So, no more partner for me – no more me, for her."
"Was she happy, at least?" Liv asked.
Rollins looked vaguely into the distance. "For a long time I was too messed up to care. Then Patton happened . . . and I was too messed up to care about anything." She cleared her throat. "Then I got the heck outta dodge, and never bothered to try and find out after that."
Olivia gazed at the young blonde, admiring and envying her convoluted freedom. "I'm sorry, Amanda."
Amanda shook her head, her face flushed now with the wine, "Don't be. I've found so much healing here, and friendship. I've grown. I wouldn't'a had that in Atlanta."
Both women were besotted by the wine, which was now gone. The night was quiet, and the dark galvanized their sense of unburdening one another. Liv sat up again, turning her head to look at Amanda, blinking languidly. They were knee-to-knee alongside each other. Their rhythmic breathing was almost too much for Olivia to bear.
"We've worked together almost seven years, Amanda. You've never talked about any of this."
"Yeah, well," the blonde ducked her head, "I don't talk to anyone, either."
"But why now?"
The universe existed in the scant space between them.
"You . . . " Amanda spread her hands, clearing her throat, "you make me feel comfortable. Comfortable in the way that Beck did." Rollins turned her head to meet Olivia's halcyon gaze. "And I was jealous."
Olivia startled. "Jealous? Of?"
"The way that you looked at Cabot."
It was as close as she would come to saying it – and they both knew it. The night was full of revelations, and the next was in the coming together of their lips. The kiss was slow and untidy, with a sense of unhurried curiosity, yet still left them both wired.
Liv had bedded Alex Cabot more times than she could recall during the years, but this feeling roiling through her was a different hunger. This wasn't Olivia giving in to Alex's fire, secretly worshipping the rebellion that Alex chased. No, this was a heaviness in the room, two women who had cut similar paths and were finally out of the woods on equal ground.
Amanda took the lead, deepening the kiss with a warm hand pressed to the side of Liv's neck. Like being invited to play on a sunny Saturday morning after rain all Friday night, Liv felt herself pulled along by the sense of adventure. Every nerve ending was triggered, and the scent of Rollins' skin pulled a deep moan from her throat that she didn't recognize.
More graceful than any predatory animal Olivia could name, the blonde was up and over – straddling Liv on the couch, her body a blanket that grazed all the right places. She'd seen Amanda before, sitting on the tables of the squad interrogation rooms, knees wide, leaning with a confident Butch swagger. Fitted now, between those spread knees, Olivia was nearly dizzy from the rush of blood to her groin. Her hands framed Amanda's sides, which only encouraged her to push her groin harder into Liv's lap.
"Fuck," Liv heard herself bite out hoarsely.
Amanda flashed a smirk that Liv never before had the pleasure of seeing, and leaned her mouth to within a breath of Liv's ear. "God, I'm already so wet," she drawled softly.
She drew back, her gaze levelled at the older woman. Wordlessly, Olivia slid her hands to Rollins' waist, popping the button and lowering the zipper of her jeans. The cup of her palm slid down her pelvis, over the wiry curls of her mons, and her fingers opened into the pool of arousal that had been boasted. It swept the coy look from Amanda's face in a rush, as her eyes flew shut, her mouth opening in an exaggerated 'O'. Liv let her fingers slide and flutter, dipping barely inside, then pulling back to her clit to provoke a response.
There were nuances, here, to learn; no longer a reunion of known landscapes, everything was uncharted. Olivia delighted in the realization that Rollins' Southern accent intensified in arousal. She chuckled with pleasure at the way she squirmed, out of her grip, yet chasing it at the same time.
Refusing to let Liv get too cocky, Amanda unbuttoned and parted her shirt, running light fingers over Liv's indulgent lace bra that cupped breasts often known to distract her during their working hours. Pinching a nipple through the fabric, she leaned in, nibbling a soft line up the brunette's neck.
Olivia found herself thrusting her hips helplessly into the vee of Amanda's spread legs. "'Manda, pleeease," she moaned. How strange: this was almost too much fun, without the stomach-dropping thought of not knowing where her lover would be the next day.
Rollins dismounted with obvious intention, undressing Liv calmly and perfunctorily. The open shirt, then the bra, dark pants, and a delicate scrap of underwear. For her part, she discarded her sweater and her own bra, all the while feeling Liv's eyes regarding each motion almost curiously. Amanda knelt in front of her, pushing Liv's knees wide, then urged her to bring her ass to the couch's edge.
The sensation of Amanda's naked breasts brushing the insides of Liv's knees drew a surprised, "Oh. Ohhh," from Liv's mouth, as goosebumps erupted everywhere.
Amanda took her time then, learning the feel and response of Olivia's most intimate skin. Parting her folds, she was intoxicated by the slick glisten of Liv's desire, punctuated by the hard, proud ridge of her clit. She dipped her mouth like bird to fountain, and suckled it full in, throbbing as she hummed with happiness.
"Jesus!" Liv's voice was deep, trembling. Rollins was as eager to please as she'd been seven years ago, when she first met the woman now splayed beneath her.
Her tongue outlined each jut and line, plunging low to taste the flood that still surged at each exploration. Amanda's nipples were hard with satisfaction as she leaned back, drawing her fingers into her ministrations. She kept her eyes riveted on Liv – each change of her expression and lick of lips as Amanda slid two fingers inside her lover's cunt.
Olivia couldn't recall ever feeling quite so off-kilter, exposed in a way she generally disallowed for herself. Her bottom lip was captured in an assault by her own teeth, frantic to keep from making a noise loud enough to wake Noah. The wine is spinning, she thought. No, no – the room. Both. I – Liv allowed herself to open her eyes, glancing down at the sight of Amanda's tongue flicking her hard clit, accompanied by the sound of her fingers fucking into her.
"Oh my fucking God, Amanda," Liv gasped, as the visual engulfed her in an orgasm that splintered and spasmed through her pelvis. It left her shivering with amazement, and Rollins waited quietly for them both to catch their breath.
"You okay?" she asked finally, sobered somewhat by their intensity. The same concern that had brought her to Olivia's door now stopped her short. Was she fucking up again?
Sitting back up, Liv at last gave a nod, her cheeks still red with pleasure and embarrassment. "I . . . I just – It's not usually like . . . this. For me." She made a small, frustrated sound in the back of her throat. "C'mere," she murmured.
Amanda stood, gently returning to her straddle of the brunette's waist, this time keeping her hands hesitantly still. Olivia cupped Amanda's face and smiled. Their kiss was sweet, and safe. "You're incredible," Liv told her. "Just make sure you are getting what you want."
"What I want?" Rollins echoed, without irony. She reached for Olivia's hand, pushing it down between her legs, where she easily engulfed three of Liv's fingers into her dripping wet pussy. The guttural moan that followed the sink of her hips made Olivia's clit twitch in answer. "I want you. And this." This was followed by another full rise and fall of the blonde's body.
Growing bolder, Liv curled her fingers forward into the G-spot, watching her partner's eyes. Her reward was a whimper, a bow of the head. Wrapping her free arm around her, Liv pulled Amanda forward, finding a nipple with her mouth. A finger drew back, circling her clit, then returned.
"So. Fucking. Full," Amanda panted, dropping her head back to expose the column of her throat.
"Mmm," Liv nodded, "and wet, don't forget."
Amanda sped up her efforts, riding Liv's fingers mercilessly. "I think I'm . . . going to – oh God!" Her hands vise-gripped Olivia's shoulders for leverage, "Fuck, Liv . . . shit, I'm going to," Rollins grunted, "unhh, Olivia, fuck me."
She'd never heard her name sound as erotic, and Liv moaned as quietly as she could. Amanda's body seized with the sudden rush of a G-spot orgasm: it spilled between them, wetting Olivia's thighs. It awed Liv with its power and its fervor. Incredible, she thought.
As she came down, Amanda considered whether to be proud or sheepish. "Liv, I – " but her words were carried off with Olivia's sudden, famished kiss. Amanda found her hand pulled back to Liv's own throbbing clit, and without thought began to fully palm her hand over the soaked, hard point.
Olivia's teeth sank into Rollins' sweat-glistened shoulder as she shuddered against her through her quick second orgasm.
Neither of them really knew how much time had passed by the time they untangled arms and legs; they had breathed, and dozed together for what seemed easily a week of days. Amanda got up once her calves began the tell-tale tingle of going numb, slowly redressing herself, one discarded clothing item at a time. She paused in the motion of buttoning and zipping up her jeans. Exhaling audibly, her head down, the curtain of her layered blonde hair fluttered with the breath.
"You, ah . . . do you love her?" Amanda asked softly.
Olivia paused. The question's reply had never really held the weight that she knew it did then, and it deserved an honest, whole answer.
"Yes," Liv answered gently. "I love her. She's my friend; I've known her for . . . a lotta years."
Rollins continued to put her clothes back on, more hurriedly. Still naked, Olivia stood up and crossed to where Amanda was. She reached out, brushing the edge of her fingers against Amanda's hand. "Hey."
Amanda looked up, her heart pounding, preparing to rip in half.
"Stay," Olivia said, her tone almost shy.
Licking her lips, Rollins averted her gaze. "I – "
Liv cut her off with another kiss, this time pliant, vulnerable. The kiss made a promise that Amanda wanted wildly to believe in. "Look at me," she whispered. "You said you were jealous?"
"Yeah."
"I've never looked at Alex like this."
FIN
/ / / /
*A/EN: When it comes to writing about sex, I love the word Cunt. I do, I love it. However, I often stray from using it, as I know it can come off as harsh, or too X-rated for some readers. That having been said, it's unendingly frustrating how few euphemisms for vagina that exist, which haven't been co-opted by angry males or misogynistic porn-type male writers. On the other hand, I also love the word Quim for vagina – but it's a bit too British and Western readers won't always get it straight off. In this case, I went for it with the former, and personally I think I nailed it. This might be my favorite of my Rolivia pieces so far. If there are words (other than pussy, heat, core, apex, etc.) that you haven't seen and would prefer, please feel free to msg me! Thanks, - M.