Always Following
by misscam/Camilla Sandman
Disclaimer: Not my characters, just my words.
Author's Note: Spoilers for "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road".
II
Always. That's a dangerous word, Olivia knows. It's easily said and promised, rolling right off the tongue, but the hardest thing to live.
Always going to be friends, Olivia and Sara agreed, but then Sara went to Harvard and Olivia to UCLA.
Always going to be mommy's little girl, Charlie promised, but is already growing up, year by year.
Always going to put their marriage first, Mark vowed, but then everything became secondary to the Mosaic investigation.
Always going to try to save their marriage, Olivia pledged, but then ran out of life rafts.
Always. She's beginning to think that word is haunting her.
Always with Lloyd, Gabriel said. Always.
"Olivia."
She bows her head as she hears his voice, not looking up as she feels him sit down on the bench next to her.
"Lloyd," she says quickly, too quickly and it comes out rushed and not at all relaxed. She exhales slowly, starting over. "Hi Lloyd. Thanks for coming."
He is smiling when she looks up, but a touch sadly.
"You're uncomfortable," he says.
"I've had an uncomfortable meeting," she says, and then she tells him about Gabriel, about Raven River and the experiments, about the text she got, about Gabriel's warning she is going the wrong way.
Lloyd listens, but he is wearing the expression of slight confusion, and she can tell he is struggling to reason it. As she is. They're both used to science, this borders on defying it.
"You believe him?" he asks, squeezing her knee lightly. She wonders just when he started touching her and why it seems so natural she doesn't even notice it anymore.
"I don't know," she says. "He did warn me about an accident that actually happened. He knew a lot about my life. I don't know. I don't know."
Lloyd nods, still watching her intently. He is earnest and present and there, and she knows now why she called him first, rather than Mark. Mark would sit and listen and wonder what it all meant for the Mosaic investigation. Lloyd is sitting here, worrying what it all means for her.
"Gabriel said I was always with you in the futures he saw. He called Harvard a fork in the road," she says quickly, before she regrets voicing it. Lloyd goes very still, his fingers paused in a caress across her skin and his eyes going distant. For a moment, it almost seems like he is imagining all those possibilities.
When he does look at her again, his expression holds so much longing she inhales sharply.
"Olivia," he says, then swallows. "I... I would have l-loved you at Harvard."
'Always,' she thinks. Every time. He would. And she would.
She kisses him roughly even as her back protests the angle and her mind reminds her she asked him to meet her in the park to better avoid exactly this temptation. It doesn't matter. What good is fighting fate when (a larger and larger) part of her wants it to happen?
What good is not kissing Lloyd Simcoe when she'd always want to, anyway?
His breath grows ragged as she tugs on his bottom lip, and the small hairs at the back of his neck are tickling her as she rests a hand there. She shifts slightly as Lloyd's hands settle on her hips, one thumb slipping just below the waistline of her jeans. His knee bumps against hers before she moves one leg across it, ending up almost sitting on his lap.
She hasn't made out in a park for quite a while, and it's making her feel strangely young. She would do it at UCLA with Mark, she remembers.
She probably would have done it at Harvard with Lloyd. Probably. Definitely.
'Lloyd and Olivia, right for all to see, K-I-S-S-I-N-G,' she thinks absurdly.
After a while, Lloyd pulls slightly back, resting his forehead against hers.
"You should tell Mark about Gabriel," he says, just a touch awkwardly. "It might be important for his investigation. Though he might not like the part about..."
"... about who Gabriel claims I'm supposed to be with," she finishes.
"Yeah, that part." Lloyd cracks a faint smile. "I don't think he's very happy working with me. I don't know why he asked me to help."
"I do," she says, staring down at her hands. Her wedding ring is glinting faintly in the sunlight, but it still feels strangely cold on her hand. "Mosaic comes first. Always."
Lloyd takes that in, then kisses her very gently, almost apologetically.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, his lips brushing hers just tangibly.
"It's not your fault."
"Part of it is," he says, lifting a hand to cup her cheek. She can't really argue with that. Part of it is his, part of it is hers, and part of it is Mark's and part of it seems to be possible futures'. Of course, if Gabriel is right, Lloyd didn't come between her and Mark. Mark came between her and Lloyd. Until now.
She doesn't really want to think about what that might mean, so she doesn't.
"I should go," she says, and Lloyd nods, his lips still lingering near hers. She can feel his breath as he exhales, and it takes her a moment to realise they're breathing at the same pace now.
"Call me," he says, half a question, half a dare. "I have to work on the QED, but after... We could have dinner. We could..."
'We could entangle ourselves even further', she thinks. 'We could have dinner, and Dylan could be there and it could be comfortable and almost familiar. We could drink wine after Dylan has gone to bed, and sit on your couch and laugh about something really not that funny.
I could kiss you. Again. Always.'
"Call me," she agrees, pressing her lips against his and keeps kissing him while she gets on her feet, Lloyd getting up with her. They simply stand for just a few heartbeats, his fingers tugging lightly at her scarf, her hands inside his jacket, and she closes her eyes to the strange calm of it.
She keeps her eyes closed when Lloyd steps away, kissing her gently one last time before she can hear his hurried steps away. Only then does she look, watching his hair seem almost golden in the spring sun.
"Lloyd?" she calls after him, and he turns to look at her. "Thanks for..."
She isn't quite sure how to define what she is thanking him for, but he nods anyway,
"Always," he says earnestly.
That's a dangerous word, Olivia knows. It's so easy to want and dream of, that elusive forever, but the hardest thing to keep. Always. Dangerous word.
It still seems to follow her.
FIN