title: you, her, i
author: duck
rating: pg
summary: once you break the bubble of personal space you can't ever go back.
author note: i think my muse heard my death threats and felt it would be best to give me this short thing as punishment.
disclaimer: none of the three (mostly) unnamed people involved are mine, so we'll leave it at that.
-----
I can't remember the first time I violated your personal space. It's an unspoken rule at SVU; there's a no-fly zone around everyone. Look, talk, interact, but don't touch. Comfort verbally, but don't touch. Argue loudly, but don't you dare invade the six inch bubble that surrounds me.
The first time I came within yours we were probably arguing, butting heads over a case. We always used to do that. You'd glare and I'd fume and we'd stand there, hopelessly deadlocked until someone else rescued us from our anger. Usually it was her.
I think she was the first one to notice when the anger in our eyes turned to electric attraction. Certainly caught me by surprise, and I know you didn't see it coming. In an instant all the dislike I had for you combusted into something else, something both primal and evolved. I think her jealousy saw it first. You were her lover, I was her partner. Who could blame her?
I can still remember her stepping in between us -- though there was hardly enough room -- and pushing me back. Walking me away from you with her hands on my chest. Oh, love, I'm so sorry. I never meant to do this to you.
You had already come to terms with your jealousy over sharing her with me, even if I only had her for work. You knew I loved her, though you never called me on it until afterwards. Love is such an amazing word to be bandied about as I have in my life. I love my kids, I love my wife, I love my partner, I love you. The first time I kissed you I knew I loved you. Knew it deep down in my gut where that endorphin-driven tug yanks away common sense and morals. The first time you let me kiss her (I don't harbor any illusions about it) I knew I loved her too. Such conflict within me and no place to turn.
I held out six months before my willpower sputtered and died. It crashed on your rocky beach and washed up on her shore. When I came over to your place that night, I realized I never wanted to leave. My life -- with the exception of my children -- could never compare to the joyous abandon I felt when I was with both of you. I loved how afterwards she would wrap her arms around my waist and bury her face in my chest. You'd laugh and I'd reach out and grab you, tickling you in all the right places until you both ganged up on me and held me down. Such warmth, laughter, love. Things I never thought I'd be without after I found my delight in you both.
After you left I found out how wrong I was. You insisted on seeing us. Some part of me leaped at the thought of your stubborn streak. When I realized we could be saying good-bye forever and that I was standing next to my crying partner, who rarely sheds tears, the temporary happiness evaporated in my heart. There was an unspoken "take care of each other" hint in your voice.
And for the most part we have. It hasn't been the same but we still find refuge in each other. It'll never be the same without you around. You, her, I. A complete triangle, somewhat strange, unconventional, and adulterous on my part.
Come back to us, Alex. We miss you.
[end]
addendum for clarity:
she, her=olivia
you=alex
author: duck
rating: pg
summary: once you break the bubble of personal space you can't ever go back.
author note: i think my muse heard my death threats and felt it would be best to give me this short thing as punishment.
disclaimer: none of the three (mostly) unnamed people involved are mine, so we'll leave it at that.
-----
I can't remember the first time I violated your personal space. It's an unspoken rule at SVU; there's a no-fly zone around everyone. Look, talk, interact, but don't touch. Comfort verbally, but don't touch. Argue loudly, but don't you dare invade the six inch bubble that surrounds me.
The first time I came within yours we were probably arguing, butting heads over a case. We always used to do that. You'd glare and I'd fume and we'd stand there, hopelessly deadlocked until someone else rescued us from our anger. Usually it was her.
I think she was the first one to notice when the anger in our eyes turned to electric attraction. Certainly caught me by surprise, and I know you didn't see it coming. In an instant all the dislike I had for you combusted into something else, something both primal and evolved. I think her jealousy saw it first. You were her lover, I was her partner. Who could blame her?
I can still remember her stepping in between us -- though there was hardly enough room -- and pushing me back. Walking me away from you with her hands on my chest. Oh, love, I'm so sorry. I never meant to do this to you.
You had already come to terms with your jealousy over sharing her with me, even if I only had her for work. You knew I loved her, though you never called me on it until afterwards. Love is such an amazing word to be bandied about as I have in my life. I love my kids, I love my wife, I love my partner, I love you. The first time I kissed you I knew I loved you. Knew it deep down in my gut where that endorphin-driven tug yanks away common sense and morals. The first time you let me kiss her (I don't harbor any illusions about it) I knew I loved her too. Such conflict within me and no place to turn.
I held out six months before my willpower sputtered and died. It crashed on your rocky beach and washed up on her shore. When I came over to your place that night, I realized I never wanted to leave. My life -- with the exception of my children -- could never compare to the joyous abandon I felt when I was with both of you. I loved how afterwards she would wrap her arms around my waist and bury her face in my chest. You'd laugh and I'd reach out and grab you, tickling you in all the right places until you both ganged up on me and held me down. Such warmth, laughter, love. Things I never thought I'd be without after I found my delight in you both.
After you left I found out how wrong I was. You insisted on seeing us. Some part of me leaped at the thought of your stubborn streak. When I realized we could be saying good-bye forever and that I was standing next to my crying partner, who rarely sheds tears, the temporary happiness evaporated in my heart. There was an unspoken "take care of each other" hint in your voice.
And for the most part we have. It hasn't been the same but we still find refuge in each other. It'll never be the same without you around. You, her, I. A complete triangle, somewhat strange, unconventional, and adulterous on my part.
Come back to us, Alex. We miss you.
[end]
addendum for clarity:
she, her=olivia
you=alex