AN: This is most likely a one-shot, unless I get feedback requesting more! I probably won't be able to resist continuing it/them, since I've become infatuated with the pair. For now, though, I just wanted to write out some Rollisi feels!

She was screaming. Hysterical, glass-shattering shrieks.

For someone so small, Jesse's lung capacity was truly impressive. Amanda Rollins paced the floor of her Long Island City apartment, holding her one year old daughter close against her body in hopes of providing some kind of calm via osmosis. It was only 8 o'clock at night, which Amanda should have been appreciative of - at least this display of enthusiasm wasn't taking place at 3 AM. The pediatrician had assured her that Jesse's behavior was normal. Babies are constantly re-learning their sleep cycle, he told an exhausted Amanda at their last appointment. Unsurprisingly, the medical community's validation didn't make it anymore pleasant to endure. Amanda supposed it didn't really matter: she hadn't been sleeping well long before Jesse's late night performances. Lately she had become too familiar with the details of her bedroom ceiling as her brain worked overtime. There were a lot of things that had happened in her life that could keep her up at night, but lately it was a particular kind of emptiness that haunted her when the badge was off and her apartment was quiet. She hesitated to use the word lonely - God, just thinking it made her cringe - but gradually she had come to terms with the fact that that was exactly what she was. Never one to advertise her vulnerabilities, Amanda had mentioned this feeling to another human being only once before...

Jesse finally exhausted herself, no longer able to fight against her heavy little eyelids. Amanda watched her almost suspiciously in her crib for a moment before walking away and allowing her body to sink heavily into her living room couch. In leggings and an old white t-shirt, she curled her legs up easily beneath her and shut her own eyes. She would savor the temporary peace if the gears in her head would let her. They never did.

It had left her mouth like the worst kind of word vomit, the sort that still leaves one feeling nauseated after the fact. She told herself that her workplace confession was due to feeling particularly emotional after little Theo was abducted by his well-loved nanny, but that wasn't the entire truth.

Carisi.

Carisi had taken one look at her in the squad room that night and had known exactly what she was thinking. No - what she was feeling. It made her skin crawl, but not because she was disgusted. No, she couldn't pinpoint exactly why the hair on her arms stood up when Sonny had so passionately reassured her about her abilities as a mother, but before she could stop herself, she was telling him the emotion she had been fiercely hiding from everyone - especially those she worked with. She had spent so many years crafting a persona of strength and resilience; icy and guarded when necessary. Lately, Amanda felt like that tough exterior was slowly crumbling in Carisi's presence. It made her feel profoundly uncomfortable. So why did she find herself almost seeking those interactions out? Hoping he would toss her little bits of validation or express curiosity about her life outside of SVU? Why -

The knock on her door jerked her out of her reverie. Brow furrowed and barefoot, she hopped up from the couch to hurry to the front of her apartment. Frannie emerged from her bedroom to trot obediently alongside Amanda, tail wagging in anticipation. Hardly thinking like a detective, she pulled open the door without checking the peephole, assuming it was her forgetful neighbor Sarah looking for her spare key. Instead of being greeted by her frazzled, familiar face, Amanda encountered someone entirely different.

"Carisi? What are you doing here?" It came out more accusatory than she intended, but she was caught off guard, seeing her fellow detective standing in her hallway with a pizza box in hand. He was still dressed in his suit from work, hair slicked back and badge on his hip.

"I was in the neighborhood. I know how Jesse has been keeping you up lately, I figured I'd swing by with some dinner," Carisi offered amicably, holding up the pizza as evidence. He smiled warmly at her and she tried to keep eye contact.

Amanda was suddenly intensely self-conscious - and simultaneously relieved that she still had her bra on. Carisi had been to her apartment a number of times but this felt different, almost like he knew he had been on her mind. That was ridiculous, of course, but he often made her feel that way. Not like she was stupid, but like she was a fumbling 16 year old girl instead of a woman with a successful career and a family. Well, okay - a baby.

"I'm starving. Come on in," Amanda exhaled with a smile. That wasn't a lie: she hadn't eaten dinner. She opened the door wider so he could step inside, watching as he shook off his coat and suit jacket and hung them up like he owned the place. Frannie sniffed him but quickly lost interest, probably because his smell was hardly exciting anymore. Amanda padded into the adjacent kitchen to get some plates and offered, "you want some wine? It's cheap, but..." Why did she give a shit if he approved of her Trader Joe's booze? God, she definitely needed a drink.

"Two buck chuck? I'm in," he agreed enthusiastically with a knowing smirk, loosening his tie as he dropped onto her couch and set the pizza on her coffee table. He flipped open the top of the box as he asked, "baby asleep?"

"Yeah... you just missed the fun," Amanda replied dryly as she poured red wine into glasses (just a bit extra in her own). She watched as Carisi adjusted his long limbs to get comfortable. With the glasses and plates in hand, she sunk down next to him - close but not too close. Frannie stretched out by her feet, as if casually chaperoning the interaction.

The two of them doled out pizza slices and chatted about the details of the day, as if they hadn't just spent twelve hours together. Conversation (and wine) flowed easily between them, something that Amanda didn't experience often with others. When she first met Carisi she thought his incessant need to talk was infuriating, but over time she found herself secretly comforted by the fact that he had knack for lightening the mood. When he offered tidbits about his family or his hobbies or his school work, he was so much more human than Nick ever was to her.

Nick.

Nick, who was just as guarded as she was and treated her like she was broken and in need of saving. Her blood boiled just thinking about how it was her cracks and dents and sharp edges that made her attractive to him; he was infatuated with the idea of rescuing her from some ongoing tragedy. What if that was how Carisi saw her? Like she was some disaster in need of guidance? The mere thought made her almost frantic.

Amanda took a large sip of her wine, the alcohol warming her throat and chest reassuringly. "Hey, uh, can I ask you something?" she said, knowing she already had.

"Sure," Carisi replied easily, tossing an unwanted piece of crust into the box and leaning back further into the couch cushions.

Another sip of wine. "You didn't come over here because of... what I said the other day, did you? Because you... feel bad for me or anything?"

Amanda watched Carisi's brow furrow in response. "Rollins, what are you talkin' about?" he responded incredulously. "I -"

"Because you don't need to feel bad for me. My life is great. And I mean, this may shock you, but I feed myself and my kid on a daily basis, you know," Amanda barreled ahead, eyeing him over the rim of her almost-empty wine glass. The little bit of alcohol in her blood was making her brave. She should have had another slice of pizza. "And y'know -"

"Whoa, whoa, Amanda," Carisi interrupted her this time, his voice just a little louder and more firm than before. He shifted, sitting up straighter and setting his glass down on the coffee table. "That's not it at all."

She finished her wine just to have something to do with herself for a second. That was a fairly benign response. Nick would have told her to go fuck herself and slammed a few things; she was always great at riling him up at a moment's notice. It had become a bit of a sick game for her. Now Amanda wondered if she was testing Carisi the way she would test Nick; she could feel her cheeks coloring slightly at the thought.

"Look, in the few years I've been working with you, never once have I ever felt bad for you," Carisi continued firmly, his tone still tinged with annoyed disbelief. "So get a grip, Rollins. Maybe you're just nice to be around."

Nice to be around. Oh, God, there was that 16 year old girl feeling again. She almost wished Jesse would cry so she would have an excuse to get up and get away from Carisi, because he was radiating a kind of warmth that rivaled the one from the wine she had consumed.

Unbeknownst to Carisi, the hair on the back of her arms stood up.