Burnt
"Find a place inside where there's joy, and the joy will burn out the pain." Joseph Campbell
Her feet hit the pavement steadily and she keeps a tight hold of Frannie's lead as she turns the corner onto her street. It takes them seconds to reach her stoop and they race up the stairs. Frannie sits as Amanda retrieves her keys and lets them into the building and they're both panting as they climb the stairs. She hums softly as they reach her door and she unlocks the door while keeping hold of the dog. She ushers them inside and closes the door as Frannie waits patiently to be let off the lead. Amanda bends to release the clasp, pausing when she smells the bacon cooking. Her eyes go wide, her mouth drops in surprise and her stomach rumbles rebelliously.
No, no, no, no.
Amanda is spurred out of her musing when Frannie juts her damp nose at Amanda's forehead and lets out a low groan to remind her to let her go. Amanda releases the clip and stands as Frannie trots to her water bowl which Nick has refilled while they were out for their morning jog. Amanda eyes his back as he stands in front of her stove in just his under shirt and boxers moving his hips to the song playing quietly on the radio; well it is quiet till he starts to sing along. She hates that she finds it oddly endearing and allows herself a moment to watch him before snapping out of it when he bends down to scratch behind Frannie's ear as she starts sniffing around him for food. At least one of them was happy to see him.
He was supposed to be gone when they got back. That was their silent agreement.
She scowls at his back and wonders when this happened. Nick used to come over, they'd have sex and he'd leave. Then he started spending the night, which she allowed because she secretly liked sharing a bed with him, not that she'd ever admit it. He didn't hog the covers or end up on her side of the bed in the morning.
Now it's breakfast.
And it's got to stop.
Nick straightens and spins to face her with an impish grin, gesturing over his shoulder with her spatula apparently choosing to ignore her glare. "I hope you don't mind, I burnt it just like you like it."
"You mean extra crispy," she replies in a neutral voice.
Nick smiles that smug smile with a small head shake and mutters, "Same thing."
Amanda bristles and she moved past him to make Frannie's breakfast. Her kitchen is small as it is and the three of them fill the space as she pours the food into Frannie's bowl. The dog follows her, so does Nick as she puts the food with the water bowl in the corner. Frannie enthusiastically starts chomping on her food before Amanda is able to stand up and brushes past Nick to pour herself a cup of coffee when she notices he's done that too.
"What's wrong? I thought breakfast would be nice-"
"It is nice," Amanda grounds out.
She didn't want nice. She's never had nice. She doesn't feel comfortable with nice. The domesticated scene she walked into is one she neither craved nor understood why other women did. She liked him, she really did, but this was only supposed to be a distraction, a crutch when everything else was dwindling around them. First it was her addiction and his marriage, more recently it was Patton and his father.
"Then what's wrong?"
Amanda whirls round to face him gesturing towards her bedroom and she glowers when she sees he's even made the bed. "When did that become this?"
She was comfortable with that, and she doesn't want this. She doesn't.
Nick's head turns as he follows her arm. He looks confused as to what she's getting at. "What are you talking about?"
He really doesn't understand and she clenches her fist as the urge to smack him surges in her. Nick keeps focused on her face, his confusion turning to concern. And that's the difference.
The other men who joined her in bed would rise to her, argue back. Yes, he has a temper but then she does too. She knows Nick has no problem arguing his point when it comes to a case and she's heard him arguing with Maria on the phone. She knows if she wants to push him, she could, but it would take a lot of goading on her part. The problem is she doesn't want to. Not anymore.
He's a friend.
The first one she's ever taken to her bed that cared about her before he got into it. He's a good, decent guy. Part of her thinks she should want this, want him, especially being a SVU detective, but honestly it scares the hell out of her.
They meet most nights after work for a drink, the exceptions being when he's with his children. Even then sometimes he'll turn up at her door after dropping them back with their moms. She's started to care about his family situation and encouraging him when he was disheartened by it, making concessions for it.
She can't remember when a drink became dinner, or when they started arranging- fuck, fuck, fuck.
"Oh god we're dating!" She exclaims. She hates how whiny she sounds and immediately turns to duck away from him as he steps towards her. His responding chuckle makes her squirm and she's glad she can't see the accompanying grin because she doesn't want to hit him. Or she could and watch him explain the black eye to Olivia.
'I laughed at Rollins because she freaked when I made her breakfast.'
No. That wouldn't work.
His laugh gets bolder, louder and she growls low in her throat. "And you think it's funny, great," she drawls out as she looks to the ceiling in an effort to calm herself.
"'Manda," Nick replies his voice full of affection, bordering on coddling, cajoling. She's heard him use the same tone on Maria when they were trying to sort out their messy marriage. It's different from the way he says it in the middle of the night when they're both sated, half asleep as they collapse onto her mattress.
"No," she shakes her head and shrugs off his hand before he's able to touch her shoulder.
"I really don't see the problem," he sighs, a touch of frustration entering his tone.
"Of course you don't!" Amanda turns to face him only to find him closer than she thought. Neither step back. "Because you've been married, you want this-"
"And you don't," Nick interrupts his eyes flaring. They stare at each, silenced by his declaration.
She does and she doesn't. She hasn't thought about it because it can never go anywhere and that's why she's been happy with it. She was the one who went to him when she got back from the retreat, offered him comfort after his father blew his way through his life.
"You don't want this Nick," she sighs eventually. "And neither do I."
"How do you know when you've never-"
"Stop," she asks, stepping into him she raises her chin defiantly, refusing to let him get lost in his romantic view of the world. Deep down, he needs to keep hold of that ideal even if he knows it's not for everyone, certainly not for her. He expects relationships to be intimate and more than just sex. Good sex, but still just sex.
She doesn't. She doesn't hold it against him because he hasn't done it deliberately, it's just who he is.
"Are you ready to give up your job? Special Victims?" She asks. The realisation dawns in his eyes and he looks away. "Because I'm not."
They've both worked hard to put the emotional year behind them, they can't afford to mess up again. They would both lose everything. They owe it to Olivia and Fin not to burden them with this. For the first time in her career she's considering other people in her decisions and it's something she's still getting used to. They've all stood by her when she hasn't deserved their support and haven't asked for anything in return. She doesn't want to throw that back in their faces. Amanda can't speak for Nick but she feels better than she has in months, years. Her career is getting back on track; Olivia is giving her more to do, trusting her to babysit Carisi. They've reached a silent understanding, one she loathes to admit stems from being victims. Amanda knows Olivia doesn't trust her completely but it's a confidence boost and not one she wants to betray.
"You're right," Nick agrees and moves to the stove where he removes the bacon which is now burnt rather than extra crispy. "I'm not but I don't want to end this either."
"Nick," she shakes her head, admonishing him. He's really not getting the point she's trying to make.
"No, I listened to you, now listen to me," he tells her. "Yes, I've been married and you're right I do want that again someday," he lets that linger for a moment and she looks away, her heart clenching rebelliously. "At the beginning I was happy but it didn't work. Right now, this," he gestures between them. "Is working."
"Exactly," she agrees. And she doesn't want it to end or change.
"And I don't want to stop just because I made you breakfast," Nick adds and laughs when she glares at him again. His laughter subsides and he reaches out a hand to touch her forearm. "I'm sorry," he says with a smile.
"I just don't want you to expect more than I can give."
He stares at her for a long moment and part of her expects him to start gathering his clothes. His response will determine their future or non-future. He expels the breath he's holding and nods tiredly.
"I was hungry, most people are in the morning, and because I was using your kitchen the polite thing to do was to make yours too. I don't see what the big deal this, we've eaten breakfast together before, which is why I know you like burnt bacon."
"Extra crispy," Amanda amends. She's glad he doesn't focus on her words, side stepping it because there is no real future and neither one of them wants to address that yet because they're not ready to give up the small amount of comfort they've found with each other while everything else was falling apart.
"Same thing," Nick mutters, his eyes lightening. "It's just breakfast, I promise."
She stares at him for a minute. It's her natural instinct to question his response, him, and part of her hates being sceptical and looking for ulterior motives in everyone she meets. He really was just doing something sweet and not trying to push her into a commitment. She eyes the works top, he's tidy in the kitchen, tidier than her, and she feels foolish for reacting the way she has. As much as she hates the idea of this arrangement becoming more significant, she doesn't want it to end either. Her stomach rumbles again.
"I'm not cleaning up after you," she tells him as she snags some bacon straight from the pan and crunches it between her teeth.
"Got it," he nods, smiling that boyish grin of his. The one that makes her stomach do a tiny flip.
She's not sure exactly what happened, if she won or he did. Maybe they both did.
Author Note - if you have a few minutes to spare please let me know what you think either with a review or sending me a PM if you're uncomfortable leaving a public comment.