A/N: I loved Norman and Olivia. Their complicated and very adult relationship was phenomenal and I'm not 100% happy with what happened in the end. They deserved so much better so I have my fingers crossed for season 2. In the meantime thank god for fanfiction!
The problem with being a therapist is that everyone believed he was perfect. At one point he strove to convince them otherwise so he spruced up the office, held workplace barbeques, even wore jeans to work and still they looked to him like he had all the answers. They had him on a pedestal and he didn't like the view. The name Godfrey was oppressive to this town. It seemed like no one could forget the old history of the steel mill, so most folks avoided him on principle alone. But over time he adapted, became the 'responsible' Godfrey, took on the stoic persona if only to keep up appearances. Then she had to walk into his life and shatter his mask...
She had awoken something in him, something he spent the last thirteen years trying to understand.
Norman drank his scotch and stared absently at the soft glow of his MacBook. Regular updates on Olivia's activities kept him sane. Sometimes he felt guilty using Shelley this way, the poor kid thought he was paying attention. But Norman wasn't so much listening as he was putting on an act. The more Olivia invaded his mind's eye, the easier it was to uphold the mindless conversation if only to get a glimpse of what was going on in that house.
Norman leaned back and ran his hand over his tired face. He felt his eyelids start to droop as the alcohol began its lullaby. "I know you're fucking her."
The glass shattered onto the floor. Norman bolted upright, breathing heavily before realizing he had dozed off in his office once again, haunted by the words of his brother.
"Let it go, J.R," Norman grumbled to himself as he rolled his stiff shoulders back to life. This chair used to be the epitome of comfort in his younger days, now it just retaliated against years of mistreatment. A smile pricked Norman's lips as he remembered the many christenings this chair stood witness too.
From the moment Olivia walked into his life it seemed like her reason d'etre was to leave her mark on everything he owned. During their frequent sexcapades she was always the one choosing the locations; his office, his car, his own damn bed whenever Marie was out on a business trip. It was pure agony to lie in bed with his wife while trying to forget the way Olivia's hands bunched up the sheets each time he thrust.
Norman stared as the pool of scotch continued to spread across his floor. It resembled blood, only the stench of booze gave it away. Debating whether to move from his post and clean it or to finally man up and call it a night, Norman chose neither. He dug an elbow into what was left of the chair's rough leather and checked his IM.
Nothing. No Shelley, no letters, no phone call, not a word. It was stupid to worry. Olivia could take care of herself and they both knew it. She was just tired and dehydrated, or feeling the side-effects of not taking her anxiety meds properly. Or...maybe it was something else.
Norman massaged his temples and tried to ease the beginnings of a headache. He had to stop over-analyzing everything and make a choice.
When the screen remained blank, he got his answer. Norman closed his laptop, snagged his keys and was out the door before the rational part of his brain ever got a chance to breathe.
o~O~o
Pushing past the staff was easy, no one dared to stand in a Godfrey's way. When J.R was still alive, Norman remembered trying to talk his brother out of getting servants. Then taking on the role of 'good' Godfrey by treating them with simple courtesy every time he came over. But they, like everyone else in this town, just kept their heads down and stayed out of the way.
Norman took the stairs two at a time until he reached the door of her room. He had only been here a grand total of once and that was right after confronting her on Letha's pregnancy. Norman smiled, he never forgot the gentleness of her touch, the way she coaxed him over to her place when he was fighting tears. Such kindness was unexpected from her, which is why he treasured it each time it appeared.
The master bedroom was a no-zone when J.R was alive, Norman made sure of that, but in one moment of weakness she stripped him of even that much courtesy and let him convert grief into blinding sexual energy.
His fist hung in mid-air. What the hell was he doing? For Christ's sakes he had a daughter to worry about, a wife, a...
The excuses died on his tongue when the door slowly creaked open. There she was, the goddess of Hemlock Grove in all her beauty wearing nothing but a satin night gown that left enough to the imagination. Feeling his body respond, Norman fumbled for a reason to be here but none came.
Olivia shot him a disarming smile while leaning against the door invitingly as she took him all in. Who other than Olivia Godfrey to read his mind.
Norman crossed his arms and leaned against the banister, allowing a charged moment to pass between them. But that's not why he was here, this was about her health nothing more. They were done and he meant it.
"Norman, darling," Olivia began, as she stroked the fine wood on the door frame. Norman never thought he could envy an inanimate object. "Making night calls now?"
"I just wanted to see how you were doing." Norman furrowed his brow as he looked for signs of illness. Years of being in her presence allowed him to perfect the look of detached indifference as he looked her over. She seemed fine on the surface, but he wasn't stupid enough to believe that.
"That's sweet of you." Olivia smiled and reached out to his cheek. Every cell in Norman's body screamed for him to back away but he couldn't, not from the most delicate touch in the universe. Her hand always felt like fine velvet against his skin, smooth, soft and surprisingly warm. "But this is certainly not the first time I've had a bit of a spell."
Norman leaned in until his forehead was just inches from her own. "My point exactly."
As her smile grew he felt something in his heart constrict as her thumb caressed his cheek. Norman swallowed the guilt that came from enjoying her touch and gently pushed his way into her bedroom. But he wasn't here for that, this was a professional visit, that's all.
The bedroom bathed in yellow light, even at half past midnight the place was adorned to the nines. The grand chandelier that kept watch over her bed painted the room in a soft yellow glow, enough to lull you to sleep but too distracting to rest the mind. It was a big show of grandiose intentions but it felt right to him at the same time.
When her hands snaked to his collar from behind, Norman calmly stepped away and faced her. He wasn't here to play mind games, for once he was actually concerned. "You didn't answer me the last time. Are you taking your meds?"
She made a show of sighing in frustration and brushed past him seductively. Ordinarily he would have had her in bed by now screaming his name, but he kept his hands in his pockets and followed her to the medicine cabinet in her bathroom.
The marble tile beneath his socks felt cold, but Norman schooled his features and dug his glasses from the inside of his coat. Olivia held the tiny bottle up to him where the label read imipramine pamoate. From its full capacity he could see that she hadn't been taking it for some time, probably since the day he prescribed it.
Norman reached for it but Olivia unscrewed the top and poured the little pills into the toilet bowl. He frowned and took off his glasses, wondering what the hell she was playing at.
When the last pill disappeared in fusion, Olivia stepped forward and slinked her arms beneath his jacket. Norman's heart stopped, nearly bursting from the overload of her contact alone. She was so warm against his chest, so soft, so...feminine. He knew it was stupid to keep standing there but there was nothing his body wanted more.
"Why did you do that?" he asked, feeling his pulse race under her lips.
"So that we can get the bloody hell off that topic," she replied against his skin, her tongue sent a shiver down his spine, "and explore a more favorable one instead."
She wasn't wearing shoes and fit snugly beneath his chin, just the way he loved it. He hated it when she towered over him during the day, not because he was some brute who needed every inch of power and control, but because it opened her up to take the heavy hits. As the most hated and beautiful woman of Hemlock Grove, he knew she saw it as somewhat of her duty to distinguish herself from other women.
She had an image to uphold and as the matriarch of J.R's fortune, getting everyone to literally look up to her was Olivia's way of retaining control. Or at least it was until that first day she met him. Norman smiled when he pinpointed her frustration; he was the only man in the room who saw eye to eye with her. What she didn't know was he was equally mad at how easily the strange creature on his brother's arm stole his breath without asking.
Norman's arms moved of their own volition and came to rest on her lower back, welcoming her to the safety of his embrace. A content sigh escaped her lips and Norman felt a weight lift off his shoulders.
Something about making Olivia happy made him feel strong and weak all at once. There weren't many who made her smile, truly smile. Actually he could probably narrow it down to Roman and Shelley as his two contenders, but even then they elicited her motherly smile. With him, it was that insatiable look followed by pure exhausted bliss.
"Like what?" He said after a long while of just enjoying their embrace. It seemed like forever since he just held her.
Olivia stopped her ministrations and pulled back enough to catch his gaze. He could see the pool of lust building within them, reflecting his own. "Like why you still have so much clothing on?"
Norman huffed back a tired smile and kissed her. Deciding to give guilt a back seat, Norman shrugged his jacket off as Olivia's hands roamed through his hair.
Together they navigated her bedroom blindly, almost tripping over furniture en-route to the bed. She tore at his sweater, momentarily breaking them apart when she managed to get it over his head and fling it behind her.
The silk of her night gown was cool against his palm, providing the perfect contrast with his heated skin. In one swift move his hand was exploring the taught flesh of her thighs, slowly making his way up by committing each curve to memory.
She rubbed long strokes up his bare chest and over his shoulders, demanding more in a way he was only too happy to comply with.
When the back of his knees hit the plush mattress, Norman fell backwards and took her with him. Seemingly enjoying their new position with him below her, Olivia's hands traveled to his belt buckle as she smiled down at him.
For a moment Norman felt helpless against that gaze. How could so much lust translate to love? How could one person simultaneously be dominant and yearning for submission at the same time? The questions swam through his mind as his body decided to take control.
When he sat up abruptly and trapped Olivia's body between his arms and his chest she froze. J.R probably wasn't man enough to stand up to her and take control, it was likely what led to their downfall. You could talk science all day long but compatibility was an art, one that Norman felt he and Olivia perfected after his brother's death.
Still holding her securely in place, he kicked off his pants and made sure she was straddling him before he entered. The first thrust was always his favorite, it's when her mouth formed a circle of ecstasy as she tried not to cry out but did so anyways. It was music to his ears and the song continued as they moved together, occasionally giving into a guttural moan and sigh combo that continued long into the night.
o~O~o
Morning was usually a time for regret, but Norman didn't regret a single thing when the sun's rays lit the face of the sleeping beauty in his arms. Normally he'd be shitting bricks right about now, wondering what excuses to just end it before anyone got hurt. But none of those thoughts mattered to as he watched her sleep.
There was something peaceful about Olivia Godfrey when she slept. Her edge was gone, that seemingly perfect facade was gone too and for a moment he swore he could see the real woman underneath.
She never told him much about her origins, but Norman suspected that she had to grow up fast. One doesn't become this good at manipulation without a degree from the university of hard knocks. But even though he used to feel cheated whenever they were together, that wasn't the case now. Actually it hadn't been for a while. He couldn't pinpoint the exact moment he started feeling like he could trust her with his heart, but it happened and now they were here.
The easy rise and fall of her chest let him know she was in deep sleep, probably her first in ages judging from the tired rings beneath her eyes. Her hand was warm over his heart while her head kept his arm trapped beneath her, yet Norman didn't mind one bit.
Moving a stray lock from her face, he continued to study every part of her sleeping form. He meant to be quick but his hand lingered against her cheek and traced her neck. Being with Olivia was like trying to recover from a heroin addiction but realizing you never really suffered from it.
Her morning smile gave her away before she opened her eyes. Not anxious to return to his tiny office or check the pile of messages from Marie, Norman was content to just lay here and love her.
Norman wrapped the blankets tighter around her naked form but she only slid closer and kissed him good morning.
"We still need to talk," he grumbled against her lips even as he felt himself slipping under her control.
"Surely that can wait a moment longer," Olivia drawled, grasping him where he needed it most. Her cool fingers made him gasp in a mix of pleasure and surprise. But he snagged her wrists and reluctantly pried her hands away, her health came first and he was done skirting around the issue. Olivia looked disappointed and Norman smiled before kissing the palm of her hand like he had done many times to soothe her in the past.
"You weren't just dehydrated were you?" Her eyes dropped to the space between them but Norman wouldn't let her go that easily. He freed his arm and bent it at the elbow to support his head, while his other hand traced patterns on her side. "What happened to you yesterday, Olivia?"
Her hands toyed with the tendrils of his hair. "This sudden curiosity, while endearing, is starting to become bothersome."
She tried to distract him with a kiss but he wasn't about to let it go. These fainting spells of hers weren't normal. There were no triggers, or at least none she'd share with him, and they seemed to come and go with large gaps in between. It defied all theories on anxiety disorder and he lost many nights trying to figure it out.
"I mean it," he said, wanting to sound strong but hearing the betrayal of emotion in his own voice. "Talk to me, Liv. There's a reason you called me instead of your son and I don't think it's just because of us."
He didn't like pushing his clients, but that's because he understood most of them and knew they just needed time. With Olivia Godfrey time seemed to stand still, she was content not to make an inch of progress but continued to see him until he finally drew a line between professional ethics and their relationship. Now, even though she was no longer his client, he was still left with that obsession to figure her out.
Something playful tinged her eyes. He couldn't put a finger on it because he had never seen such a look on her before. One of gratitude and great pity combined.
Norman tried to speak but she flipped onto her stomach and reached out for the tender spot at the base of his ear. The pain was excruciating but he didn't let it show, if this was her way of warning him she'd have to do better than that.
"Sometimes I hear voices," she began, releasing the pressure as she massaged the spot. It served as a perfect reminder of what recklessness really meant.
"What do they say?" Norman prompted against his better judgement. He didn't want to push, but reminded himself that his philosophy on time didn't extend to Olivia.
Her expression morphed into something serious, it was the first time he saw anything close to fear in her eyes and furrowed his brow in confusion. Angry Olivia needed a challenge, playful Olivia needed love, but fearful Olivia? He didn't know how to handle let alone play that card.
"They ask me," she looked down to him with a smile, "why I'm still with someone who can't seem to make up his mind?"
His jaw slackened. This was ridiculous. This woman hadn't told him anything in thirteen years and he suddenly expected her to spill all in one night of concern-fueled passion?
Norman looked around the room and laughed. Apparently he needed to refine his in-bed counselling skills.
She quirked a brow but grinned anyways. "Is it really that amusing of a question, Norman?"
"No, no, no." He shook his head between laughs and kissed her forehead. "And you're right it's your business. I shouldn't be prying."
She raised a brow at his compliance. "Is that so?"
"Yes," he nodded and flipped onto his back with his hands behind his head. "But just because you're not talking, doesn't mean I'll stop losing sleep over it."
She looked down to him with curiosity, seemingly trying to figure out what to make of this confession. He could see it in her eyes. "And why would you do a thing like that?" she asked.
"Because I want to." He said with a chuckle.
She smiled at that one, remembering her early spiel at the door. It was a bunch of garbage, many people did things they didn't want to, but as far as he was concerned, this wasn't one of them. He loved being around her but would deny that confession to hell and back to save face.
"Admirable." She trailed a languid nail down the center of his chest and back. That look on her face should've been outlawed because it just stole his heart all over again. "Perhaps there's something I can do about that sleep problem in return?"
"I suppose it's only fair," he admitted before swiftly flipping her onto her back. Those brown eyes watched him first with a thrill then with delight as he leaned in close and whispered in her ear. "But I want you now," he said, feeling her shudder and grip his head when he tasted the sensitive skin at her throat.
"I love a man that takes what he wants," Olivia said when he finally pulled back. There was nothing to suggest a ruse, no manipulation, for once a clear-eyed Olivia Godfrey stared back at him and that's when it clicked. He loved her.